( 애인 ) 𝒾n which ︵ since you're afraid sex will ruin your relationship, your best friend promises you it'll be just the tip. well, guess what? he's kind of a liar. ⫶ smut mdni 277O dom!enha friends-to-lovers-esque very much strings-attached sex rough/mean sex implied no protection confessions not proofread (oops ><)
⌨️ like&&reblog for a kiss. ── #click4masterlist to see more.
LEE HEESEUNG ── "yes, baby, i swear. c'mon, jus' let me in you."
the thing with heeseung? you've never been good at denying him of what he wants. all it takes is one look, one pout, and you're caving instantly.
you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, hesitant, "hee, please don't... you said it'd be just the tip." thing is, he's your best friend. at least, that's all he's supposed to be—instead, he's lined up between your legs, the leaky tip of his cock tapping against your clit, practically begging to let him fuck you right.
heeseung's fingers brush your slick cunt, and you whimper, bucking your hips slightly up. "i know you want it, doll. lemme make you feel good, yeah?" he leans down, teeth sinking into the skin of your collarbone, making your breath hitch in a whiny moan.
his touch makes you melt. makes your brain short-circuit. makes you forget about any worries you have about ruining what you already have with him. he drags his tongue over the bite marks he's just made, soothing the spot.
he litters soft kisses all over your chest, and just like that, you forget why you ever held off fucking him like this in the first place. "okay," you whisper. "shit—okay."
he looks up quick, like he's not sure if he even heard you right. but there's this grin on his face. it's wide, toothy, and entirely too smug. like he knew you'd end up agreeing. if he wants to rub it in, he doesn't, which you're a little grateful for.
"fuck, baby, thank you. gonna fuck you so well, i swear you won't regret it."
yeah, just like he swore he wouldn't go past the tip. the retort dies on your tongue, because then he's pushing into you, the bed frame creaking in protest with every thrust. he's just so big, and he barely gives you a moment to adjust.
"mm, wait, hee—"
"sorrysorrysorry," he groans, the words falling from his mouth in a single string. "just spent so long dreaming of fucking this pretty pussy."
PARK JONGSEONG ── "y'know, you're not doing a great job at pretending you don't want this."
your face flushes, and you try to duck your head, but jongseong's hovering over your body. with the hand that's not on your bare hip, he pulls your chin back towards him, forcing eye contact.
"seongie," you whine, a tinge of embarrassment in your voice. "you promised we wouldn't go all the way."
"and you're making a mess all over my cock, baby. just give in. you know you want to." he doesn't say it like he's pleading or trying to convince you. he says it like it's a fact, which might be worse.
actually, it is worse.
because he can read your body. he can read the tremble in your voice as you try to hold your ground. the hitch of your breath when his tongue flicks against your nipple.
even now, when he's barely more than an inch into you, he doesn't miss the way you're squeezing him, practically trying to suck him in. and with how wet you are, it'd be so easy to just slip right in.
"i—i don't know," you stammer out, or try to, as he rubs slow circles onto your clit, smearing your messy arousal all over your thighs. you part your lips, like you're about to protest, but all that comes out is a moan.
"but we're friends—" you bite out, your arms around his neck, instinctively pulling him closer.
"so what? we'll be friends that fuck. or more, if that's what you want. that's what i want. we can work out the details later, can't we?"
the word more rings in your ears, and jongseong can hear the gears shifting in your cock-drunk mind.
"hey, hey. don't worry your pretty little head about that right now. just let me take care of you. it'll be the best you'll have."
you nod once, barely interceptable, but he shakes his head. "words, sweetheart. use your words for me, hm?"
you feel heat creep up your neck, but you nod again anyway. "yes, seongie. i... i want you to fuck me."
god, you really don't have to tell him twice.
it's when he finally bottoms out, that he has to stop and go though a roster of formula 1 teams, in order not to cum.
after all, might not have kept his initial promise, but he would be the best fuck of your life.
SIM JAEYUN ── "please, angel. fuckin' hell... you need this as bad as i do, don't lie."
jake's eyes are so innocent, though the intent behind them is anything but. his gaze, set firmly on you, makes heat pool in your stomach, adding to the wet mess on the sheets beneath you.
sure, you and jake had fooled around before. it wasn't rare. if anything, it was a daily occurrence. you'd humped him mindlessly on the couch before, sucked him off in his studio, and let him finger you for hours at a time. but this?
this wasn't the same. actually fucking him felt like crossing a line. like stepping over an already blurry boundary.
but he's adamant. so adamant. he's got his heart dead-set on this, pouting at you with those pretty pink lips, slightly swollen from kissing. as mentioned, however, it's anything but innocent.
he's spent the better part of an hour marking you up, leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your body. your neck, your chest, your thighs. shades of pink and red have bloomed all over your skin, and he's never looked prouder.
"jakey, 's not that i don't wanna," you say, soft and shaky. because of course you want to. it's all you've ever wanted. to feel his cock inside your cunt, for him to fuck like a dog in heat. "it's that i don't wanna mess this up."
"mess what up? us? angel, you could never. no matter what, okay? you seriously can't get rid of me that easy," he assures you, both efficiently and kindly. and in case his words aren't enough to soothe your doubt, he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, quick but lingering.
"really?"
"really. will you let me feel all of you now? hm? let me fuck you the way you deserve?"
"please," you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. that's all it takes for him to ease into you slowly, like he's trying to memorize this moment and keep it with himself forever. the groan that jake lets out at hearing your soft whimpers—it's straight up pornographic.
"this pussy is so much fuckin' better than my fist."
PARK SUNGHOON ── "you're leaking all over my dick, and still... you're going to say you don't want me?"
one thing park sunghoon always found joy in was teasing you. it didn't matter what for.
whether it was pointing out every time you'd stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, or still bringing up that one time from a year ago when you'd accidentally put the cereal in the fridge and the milk in the pantry—he was relentless when he wanted to be.
like now. especially now. just... instead of sidewalks and cereal boxes, it was the way you were a teary, needy mess, and still insisting that you didn't want any more than the tip of his thick cock.
you shake your head, trying to fight back a moan when he pinches your clit. "d—don't be mean, hoonie."
"i'm not being mean, sweets," sunghoon chides, but he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose nonetheless. "if anything, you're the one being mean. you're such a pretty little thing, thighs spread, all dripping for me... and you expect me not to want to fuck you all the way?"
he clicks his tongue, pushing a little further into you. he watches your eyes hit the back of your head, the cutest, breathiest sound leaving your mouth.
"please," you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"please, what? i can't even tell what you're begging for, baby. 'please, hoonie, fuck me?' is that what you're begging for?"
"fuck—yeah," you blurt, before you can even process the words that are leaving your mouth. it seems to surprise him just as much, because his eyes go a little wide, and for someone who's spent the last thirty minutes with sharp, quick responses, he seems a little speechless.
"well, damn, baby. thought we'd be going back and forth a little while longer," he chuckles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "not really complaining, though."
when sunghoon fucks into you, it's so him. harsh and cruel, but with loving intention. the pace he sets is rough, and he really doesn't show you any mercy.
turns out, being a little mean can get you a long way.
KIM SUNOO ── "so insistent on playing this game, huh?"
"sun, it's not... It's not like that," you protest weakly, but the way sunoo's looking at you—like a man who's got the world at his fingertips and knows it—has the rest of your sentence dying on your tongue.
"what is it like, then? you just feel like being a brat?" sunoo's words are sharp, they always are, but never sharper than the feeling of his teeth nipping at your collarbone. he doesn't seem annoyed by the waiting game. a little impatient? well, yes.
not annoyed, though. not frustrated. just... bored. it isn't disinterested-bored. more like give-in-already-so-we-can-cut-to-the-chase-bored. it's different. it's cocky. because he knows you'll end up submitting to him.
the feeling of his tip pressing against the entrance of your wet heat makes you flinch, and it takes everything in you not to beg him to fuck you right then.
"i—i feel," you stutter, "like not losing us over some sex."
sunoo's head snaps up. "some sex?" he asks, almost sounding offended. no, scratch that, he does sound offended. "you're seriously underestimating how good of a fuck i am."
"that's not the point!" if he didn't have your hands pinned together above you, you'd hit him, because he's being so... sunoo. misinterpreting your words on purpose, teasing you, seeing how far he can push you until you snap. and both of you know you're already reaching your breaking point.
he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your chest. his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking and biting, committing your soft whimpers to memory.
"nothing'll happen to us just 'cause we had some earth-shattering sex. i mean it. if anything, you'll just become more obsessed with me," he snickers, dropping a hand between your legs to slip his fingers between your folds.
"fuck you."
"i'm clearly willing."
you're silent for a beat, but the sheer need for him, for wanting to get fucked dumb on his cock, is overwhelmingly loud. "fine," you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. he laughs, condescending, but it just makes you clench.
he pushes into you, and his dick fills you up, makes you feel so good, so full. sunoo's hips snap against yours, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. every thrust makes you cry out, and he drinks up the sweet sound.
"i'll show you some sex," he scoffs.
YANG JUNGWON ── "i know, pretty girl. i know. but you won't regret it."
his words are entirely too convincing. they fall from jungwon's mouth, easy and honey-sweet. there's a soft sheen of sweat on his skin, and the curve of his lashes has you melting into his touch.
"wonnie..." you whisper, soft and uncertain. like there's more you want to say, but can't find the words for.
jungwon just kisses you, his lips slotting against yours. and because he's him, your best friend for ages, you kiss him back. he tastes like strawberries and your coffee that he stole sips from.
he's already more than an inch in anyway, waiting for you to let him in all the way. "you're thinking s'loud," he murmurs, pulling away, a thin line of saliva connecting his mouth to yours. "i can hear you from here. don't overthink it. haven't even fucked you yet, and you're already squeezing around my cock."
his voice dips to a lower register, and he leans down by your ear, his breath hot. "just let yourself have it." the tone jungwon uses makes your face flush, and your heart skips a beat in your chest.
he always looks so gentle about everything, but there's a mocking lilt in his tone right now that makes you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
the movement makes him slip deeper into your cunt, and he groans, "fuck—fuck, princess. give a guy a warning, yeah? gonna make me cum just from that." jungwon's hips stutter as he readjusts, and he shifts his angle, needing more of you.
"sorry," you breathe, looking up at him. his hair is tousled, slightly unkempt from you running your hands through it. "i just... um, i like you. this. us. whatever 'us' is."
"yeah? same here, baby. i care about you too much to ever do anything to jeopardize us." he pauses, tucking hair behind your ear. "do you trust me?"
you don't hesitate. "yeah, wonnie. i do."
"good," he says, his lips meeting your temple. he looks at you, silently acknowledging what he's about to do. when you nod, he bottoms out, pushing himself all the way in. his cock drags against your walls, stretching you out on himself.
"mm—won—" you moan, grasping his arms to steady you.
"shit, you're such a good girl. feels nice, right? didn't i say it would?"
NISHIMURA RIKI ── "screw that promise, baby. to hell with it. this pussy's so perfect, s'begging to get fucked by me."
so far, riki's been true to his word. he's only an inch deep, but you know it's better than anything you've ever had before. he knows that, too—it's what makes him so confident.
"'ki, but you said—"
"angel, i say a whole lotta things. i definitely don't mean them all," he snorts, reaching down to rub your clit with his thumb. it makes your frown melt into an expression of bliss, the kind you only get from pleasure.
it doesn't help that riki's so pretty, and surely it doesn't make any of this easier. because he's the smug kind of pretty. the kind where he's fully aware and doesn't hesitate to use it to his own advantage.
it’s the way he looks at you like he already knows exactly what you’re thinking, and he’s just waiting for you to trip over your words first. it’s not even that he’s trying too hard; it’s just there, in that little tilt of his head or the way he lets a silence stretch out just a second too long.
he knows it gets under your skin. he knows it makes it impossible to actually stay mad at him, which is the worst part. you want to call him out on it, but then he smiles that specific way, and suddenly you’re the one who’s on the defensive.
trembling, you shake your head, though your resolve is wearing away. "friends don't fuck," you say, your tone hush.
"friends don't do whatever this is, either. if you're worrying about crossing some sort of line, i think we're a little far past that point."
you groan, burying your face in your hands. riki always has to go and make everything harder, doesn't he? in response, he just kisses your tit, and then your jaw, before finally pulling your hands into his.
"that doesn't make me feel better," you mumble.
"it wasn't really supposed to. i'm being honest, sweets. we're gonna be fine. we're gonna be okay."
finally, you sigh, "well, okay. i guess—"
you're cut off by his cock abruptly slamming straight into you, without so much as a warning. you cry out, back arching up as you sink your nails into the biceps of his arms.
mid-moan, you gasp, "what the fuck, riki!"
"sorry, fuck, sorry," he grunts, but by the way he isn't slowing down, you don't know if he means it. "ripped the bandaid off, angel."
riki leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy, wet kiss, swallowing the noises you make. with every ram of his hips against yours, you can feel his dick kisses your cervix, the way he throbs inside you, how his pelvis grinds against your clit.
he groans against your lips, "gonna make you cum so good, you'll forget to be mad at me."
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ꕥ NICE N' FULL ⸝⸝⸝ six different scenarios in which the enhypen members breed the fuck out of you !
⚠︎ smut. mdni. breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, p in v, dirty talking, pet names, more warnings listed for each member. total wc 4k. ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list
✷ NIA — not exactly what bae @vampsol asked for bc i went a little au-ish here :p but it's me so what did we expect. shoutout to my goat @karinasbaby for sharing a braincell with me and helping me w the ideas <3
ꕥ LEE HEESEUNG
arranged marriage, it's okay they're starting to be obsessed with each other, slight somno, oral (f. rec), cum eating
If you were to tell anyone Heeseung didn't as much as look you in the eyes about two months ago, they'd never believe you. Not if the way he's clinging to your lower half before he even opens his eyes fully is anything to go by. Still naked in bed, the wet sheets clinging to your bodies the only thing shielding you from the cool dawn air.
Marriages of convenience are rarely easy, especially for spirits as free as Heeseung, and he's made it clear to you how much he'd rather have married anyone else instead. They also come with burdensome expectations of heirs way too soon for his liking. Yet, something about your devotion to him in your most intimate moments despite your general indifference and coldness towards each other, brought the cold and hard as steel man down to his knees, a puddle of mush at your feet ready to fulfill any request.
"Hee," you mutter softly against your pillow as he parts your legs to make space for himself, and Heeseung's heart soars. A month ago it would've been 'Heeseung' or 'husband' with that venomous tone you seemed to only reserve for him, like his spot in your life was only a joke. It's different now, you're tender with him.
"Shh, pretty. Just lay here for me like this." It's still early, and Heeseung can barely see, but he wants the first thing he looks at in the morning to be your pretty hole, raw and sore from all the previous fucking, still gush his seed out. He parts your folds slowly, careful not to hurt you, and watches as his milky cum greets him, pouring out of you. It's a sight for sore eyes, and one he knows he will never get enough of. Even when he'll manage to put a child in you, he knows this is something he won't be able to let go of.
You shift, now more aware of your surroundings, but Hee is quick to keep you still. Your hand underneath your stomach faintly tingles because of its weird position, but it all fades in the background when Heeseung grabs your ass and spreads it, moving lap at where his cum is gushing out of you.
You're still sensitive from the night you spent together, but his touch is feather light and you don't really know if you want him to stop or you want more. He moans at the mixture of your tastes, pushing his tongue deeper inside your cunt like he's trying to clean you, switching so soft kisses on your lips once he's satisfied.
He makes his way up to your face, littering your bottom and spine in kisses and playful nibbles, relishing in the little sounds you make in response. Your front is still pressed to the mattress, and not seeing him almost makes you believe this is not the Heeseung that was shooting you sharp glares throughout the entire wedding ceremony. His touch is warmer, so much more delicate than the way he held your end that first night. His kisses are slow and deliberate, not empty and forced anymore. It's like soul has find its way back into Heeseung's being, after months of being a cold slate. The change started out slowly, but now you're here, and you genuinely feel like you could really love this man. Maybe a part of you does already.
His voice is the same, but the tone makes him sound like a whole different person, the forever present irritation is gone, only a playful tilt to it left as he finally reaches your ear to whisper in it. "Slipped out while sleeping, all of our hard work gone… such a pity." Heeseung aligns his cock to your weeping cunt, rubbing his head a few times along your folds, then carefully pushes in. "We have to do it all over again."
He's gentle, showering you in soft praises, and his thrusts are even slower. You've never known anything other than fucking, but you think this is what lovemaking feels like.
"So good, baby. You'll be such a good mom, you've been so patient with me even when i didn't deserve it. You'll be wonderful," he whispers in your ear, raising goosebumps all over your skin at just how sweet he sounds. "You are wonderful. You're perfect."
What better way to spend your honeymoon trip if not by getting filled over and over again by your dear, newlywed husband?
You can't think of any, but maybe that's also because you can't really think about anything that's not the delicious drag of Jay's cock against your walls. So deep inside you, pushing more even when his balls are already flush to your skin. Like he can't get enough, like he could break any barrier and mold into you as one if he really put his mind to it. He needs more, you both do.
But one thing's for sure, he's giving you his all.
"So fucking good, my wife has the best pussy. So perfect for me," he pants hotly in your ear, his large warm hand cupping your breast and separating it from the frigid glass your front is pushed against. The view from your suite is breathtaking, emphasized by the huge transparent wall, right beside the queen sized bed. At the moment though, you're not really focused on it. Nor is Jay, too busy gawking at your beautiful figure caged between his chest and the glass. He could stare at you forever. "I'm gonna stuff you full, baby. Gonna fuck you so good all trip, there's no way you won't be pregnant by the end."
You believe it, because all he's done ever since you undid your luggage in the middle of the room once you arrived to your destination is pump you full of his cum, all day, all night. And then all over again. Only stopping to get you food. You aren't safe from him when showering, even worse when taking a bath, definitely not when you're lounging around the natural pool close to your suite. It's not his fault you look so good in the bathing suits you packed and the ones he picked out for you. Jay has always had good stamina, but ever since the wedding he's been downright feral.
His thrusts are slow, but intense, like he's trying to drag the pleasure out as long as he can, savoring the way his tip nudges just the right stop that has you mewling in his hold every single time. His breath is warm against your neck and so are his grunts of pleasure, your favorite sound in the whole world.
Jay twists your sensitive and sore nipples between his fingers, only smiling into your neck when you reward him with the cutest mewls he's ever heard in his life. "Fuck, baby. I'm the luckiest man alive. I can't believe you're mine forever."
"You too," you whine in response.
"Yes baby, I'm all yours, forever. I love you much."
"Love you too," you sob, throwing your head back into his shoulder, completely overtaken by the pleasure he's giving you, allowing him more access to lick and suck on your sensitive neck.
"I know, baby. I know. You're doing so good, just a little more. My sweet girl, you'll be such a good mom. Can't wait to make you one. We'll have so many, so many cute kids running around. Doesn't that sound like a dream? Fuck, I can't wait."
The hand still playing with your tits slides down to your stomach, pushing down on it until Jay can feel his own cock thrusting into you. "Right here, you're gonna carry our baby here." He keeps fucking into you slowly, deliberately, so different from the speed of the circles he draws on your clit with the fingers that were soothing your hip just moments before. He drags out his own pleasure, but needs to give you so much more. "Come on my cock baby, milk it dry. We have so much more work to do."
ꕥ SIM JAEYUN
fwb!jake but he has feelings, he's down bad and a little subby in this one, dub-con (for jake), slight blood play (just his lip)
This is a series of mistakes. It's all Jake seems to be doing as of lately.
First of all, he's not even supposed to be in your bed again, the fourth time this week. Not when he finally came to terms with the fact that he has developed a raging crush on you and cannot keep his feelings at bay any longer, even when you two agreed this whole arrangement will only be sex and nothing else.
But he can't help it when you're so fucking addicting. You not liking him back is gonna break his heart, but at least he gets to fuck you, at least he gets a little piece of you, even if it's not exactly the one he wants.
Secondly, he should've refused to fuck you raw for the first time the moment you asked, even if the thought alone had his eyes crossing and rolling all the way to the back of his skull. But he's a weak man, for you especially, and he simply couldn't resist the temptation, not when you looked up at him with your big glossy eyes and with such a cute pout on your lip.
So here he is now, fucking you raw like his life is on the line, trying his hardest not to spill inside you too soon because if he does he might just die from embarrassment.
All he does, all he's ever done, is with the purpose of impressing you. It's like you have him chained up to this invisible leash he didn't even notice you put on him, and now it's too late to take it off. Jake means it when he says he would do anything for you.
His thrusts are shallow and quick, he's fucking you mostly with his tip, and you don't think you've ever seen him so worked up. It makes you feel things you didn't even know you needed. You like the feeling.
"You're so cute like this, Jakey," you giggle into the messy open mouthed kiss he's drowning you in, your fingers ghosting on the muscles of his back while his tremble on your waist. "Fuck me deeper, I want to feel all of you."
Jake's hips still for a second as he bites down on his bottom lip so hard he draws blood, but you don't mind at all. You even lick it clean, sighing dreamily at the iron taste overtaking your senses. Jake's eyes screw shut, and he's so close to cumming his eyes start to water. This is simultaneously the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him, and thinking that this might very well be the last time only makes his eyes wetter.
"I—fuck. I can't. I'll cum too soon."
"That's okay, we can go again," you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and a little piece of Jake's heart breaks. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.
You sense his hesitation and wrap your legs around his hips, pushing them closer to your pelvis so his length fully sheaths inside you. It's so warm and big and throbbing to release his cum in you and there's not a single thing you want more. "Fill me up, Jakey. Claim me," you whisper in his ear. "Why don't you show everyone I belong to you?"
Jake resumes his movements, tentatively at first but steadily building a pace that feels good, his thrusts are deeper now, needier, and even if he were to try to pull out, you'd keep him right there. "I want to. I want you fully, fuck— please be mine," he sobs into the valley of your breasts, voice muffled as he licks and nips at your skin.
"Go on. Make me yours then. Show me how bad you want me."
And he does because fuck, he's weak. He's so fucking weak for you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
ꕥ PARK SUNGHOON
coworker!hoon, secret relationship, semi-public, degradation, jealousy, mentions of marriage
Something about the way Sunghoon's thick eyebrows were furrowed from the second he walked into the job that morning, or how his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth whenever any of your colleagues as much as opened their mouths to say something, should've been your cue to behave for the day.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, he happens to look so damn hot when he's pissed.
And he's so filthy when he's jealous, pushing his buttons becomes your favorite challenge in times like these.
"Eyeing Jake all day like you want to bring him to the back and fuck him, are you not ashamed?" he spits, voice an octave lower than usual and barely slipping through his gritted teeth. "Bending over in front of him, touching him when you know I can see you. Do I have to mark you up for you to fucking behave for once?"
The roughness in his voice makes your eyes wet but your panties wetter, he doesn't bother to undress you, you don't have time for it anyway. You're just a few steps away from the lounge bar where some of your coworkers are surely taking a break right now. Anyone could walk in at any time, and maybe Sunghoon wishes for that to happen.
Instead Sunghoon just flips your skirt up and pushes your panties to the side, immediately rubbing his angry red tip on your folds to coat them in your own juices. He feels so incredibly hard against you, and that's how you know he must've been hiding a boner this entire time. As much as he loves to pretend he doesn't, it's little cues like this that let you know just how much he enjoys putting you back in your place. "Of course you're soaked." He barks a laugh devoid of humor but full of disdain.
"If it's my attention you want," he whispers more softly, and the switch in his attitude sends shivers down your spine, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunghoon, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'll give it to you. I'll give you so much of it you won't ever think about disrespecting me again."
He pushes his girth into you fully in one thrust, his rough fingers finding your clit within seconds, not even giving you enough time to savor the pleasurable sting that comes from his cock stretching you out so nicely. He grabs your jaw in his other hand, his smirk not turned into a snarl. "You'll cum, and you'll cum hard enough to milk all of me. You'll keep cumming around my cock no matter how much it hurts, until I fill you up. Is that clear?"
You would nod if you could, but his grip is too strong, so you do what you can: just stand there as he subjects you to anything his heart desires. He doesn't move his hips, doesn't give you that satisfaction, only rubs his fingers on your tiny bundle of nerves so hard it almost hurts, but you'd never ask him to stop it.
"You'll take all of my cum, until your belly is swollen by how much of it I fuck into you. I'll put a baby in you so no one else will ever mistake you for anything other than mine."
You clench around him, time and time again, just like he wants you to. Sunghoon has you under a spell, and the more he talks, the more he flicks your clit, the less you think about what's rational and what's not. You only know what he tells you, and to you that's the only truth you need to hear.
"I'll put a ring on your finger, make you my pretty little wife. Maybe even make you stop coming in, I'll take care of everything. Yeah, keep milking me like that, baby. Let me make you a mommy."
ꕥ KIM SUNOO
ewb, hate sex, degradation, marking, one singular 'slut', condom comes off!
"You're—mhh, such a bad fuck," you say over your shoulder, wanting to see Sunoo's reaction despite the uncomfortable position. You're lying through your teeth, of course. You know how much saying things like this riles Sunoo up, and the only times you feel anything akin to like towards him is when he's rough with you. It's why despite the mutual hatred that makes up the entirety of your relationship, you two keep finding yourselves skin to skin, tangled in bed sheets. You always thought you needed someone to fuck you like they hate you, turns out, what you really craved was someone to fuck you because they hate you. And the right man for the job is right behind you, thrusting into you like he wants to hurt you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips like it's their right to do so.
"Then why are you here, wetting my cock like no one's fucked you in years?" His moves are relentless, and you have to try your best to not collapse on the bed because of the sheer force behind every stroke. Your legs are shaking, but you hang on a thread just to not give him that satisfaction. Instead, you push him further.
"That guy from—mph, yesterday. He'd—" you gasp as he gives you a harsher thrust, so deep you're sure you can feel it in your guts. The angle he starts fucking you in knocks the air out of your lungs in the best way possible, and even if you're trembling under Sunoo's weight and clawing at the cotton fabric next to you, you refuse to back down. "He'd do a better job."
You don't need to see his face, you hear the smirk in his voice, and it's the kind that sends a shiver down your spine each time. "But you're here." Another sharp thrust. "You don't even remember his name."
"At least he las– lasted while fucking me raw." You feel him halt all movement, and you know this is enough to get what you want from him, but you just can't help it. "You could never."
"You're such a little fox, aren't you?" He speaks calmly, but you can feel the storm brewing under the facade. He drags his fingertips across your spine, barely touching you at all. It's embarrassing how that's enough to have you bend under his touch. He reaches the plush of your ass, grabbing a fistful of it so forcefully you can feel his nails break the skin. He doesn't stop when you complain, doesn't care for your pained moans. "You think you're so smart, but you're just a little slut. You want me to fuck you raw?"
You try to shake your head to deny it, but he knows better.
"Yes you do. Say it." His grip on your ass only gets stronger, and tears line your bottom lashes.
"I do," you whine, finally. "Please."
"Good." Sunoo releases the death grip on your skin, soothing over the red spot with his thumb lightly, like it's not him performing the action. The Sunoo you know has no time for care. "Then take the condom off of me."
Your head snaps back at his words, but he makes no sign of moving. So you do what he says, this once. You reach for this length, then carefully slide the rubber off of it. And right when he thinks you're finally behaving, you squeeze his cock so hard his hips stutter forward and you actually manage to steal a surprised yelp out of him.
Sunoo's reaction is immediate. He grabs both of your hands, uncaring for the way your elbows are uncomfortably bent, and brings your wrists together behind your back. He slides into you again in one swift motion, not giving you even a second to savor the feeling of his bare cock pushing into your heat for the first time. All of your nerves feel on fire, and as he sets a breakneck pace while keeping you down and unable to move.
"Do I have to fuck a baby into you for you to finally behave?" He gasps when you squeeze him in response to his words. "You'd like that yeah? You'd love for the man you hate to get you pregnant? Is that gonna make you shut the fuck up for once? Oh, I bet it will."
ꕥ YANG JUNGWON
fiancé!won, they're obsessed your honor, love on the floor
"You can't wait to get me pregnant, but what will you do when you won't be able to suck on my tits for months, mhh?" You giggle on Jungwon's lap, right in the middle of the empty room.
The new house still smells like new houses usually do, dry and woody, like the windows are never open. There's no furniture yet, but it doesn't stop your heart from pounding in your chest as you look around. Your home.
Jungwon's eyes never leave you though, and when you look back at him and find him smiling at you like you hold the world in your palm, you know you would be happy with every house, no matter the size or appearance, as long as he's the one you share it with.
"What makes you think that's gonna stop me?" Your fiance replies, shaking his head to move the bangs out of his eyes. "I'll even get something more out if it."
"Won!" you exclaim, hiding your face in your hands. Your heart melts a bit when you hear that familiar boyish giggle leave him, light as air, and for once in your life you feel like you've found the right spot in the world.
The warmth you feel spreads further as Jungwon starts caressing your bare thighs, until he's gripping your ass, using it as leverage to push you on his crotch.
You gasp at the feeling, and your hands find their rightful place on his broad shoulders so you can keep yourself steady as he starts to roll your hips against his.
"Won… we shouldn't—"
He shuts you up with a soft peck, resting his forehead against yours. "Why not? It's our place. We worked so hard for it, we should celebrate."
You bite your bottom lip as you think about it, but Won doesn't waste a minute and flips both of you over so you're caged between the floor and his chest. He nibbles on your ear, knowing better than anyone else how weak it makes you when he does that. "I'll make you feel so good, doll." It's like he's put a spell on you because you nod before he even manages to finish his sentence. "Just lay back and let me do all the work."
Your clothes are soon discarded everywhere around you, and your legs are wrapped around his hips as he fucks into you like he never has before. You're both a sweaty mess, panting in each other's mouths, exchanging spit any chance you get.
"Your pussy was made for me, doll. You're sucking me in so well." Jungwon moans against your lips, and you watch enamored as his eyes shut close and his eyebrows furrow, a droplet of sweat running down from his hairline. "Can't wait to take you on every surface of this house. Fuck— just leave it to me, baby. I have so many surprises for you."
"I'm so close, please," you whine, sliding a hand down his back to push his hips into you further. It makes Jungwon's pace faster, more desperate to give you exactly what you need.
"Let go, baby. Come all over my dick— yeah, just like that. You're taking me so fucking well. Such a perfect doll for me." His praise goes straight to your cunt, and you squeeze him impossibly hard as wakes of pleasure rack through your body.
"My perfect angel, you're gonna look so good swollen with our baby. Am gonna give you all of my cum, just a little more. We'll have so many kids running around the house we built. Our home forever," Jungwon babbles in your ear, and you're so fucked out you can even barely make out what he's telling you. You just know you need him to fuck you full, over and over.
His hips never stutter, despite how drenched and slippery everything is by now, a puddle of wetness pooling underneath you on the hard floor, getting bigger and bigger the more Jungwon fucks you, and you suspect the floor won't be the only surface you'll wet that day.
—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ in which they're clingy with (y/n) like they'd perish without
enhypen 8th fem!member x ot7
content(s): fluff, members being clingy and touchy, some of them are whiny, heeseung uses the power of bambi eyes, sulky hoon, jake's lowkey human glue, reader's sweet, jungwon's make me emotional, riki likes to crush reader
type: imagine
⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆
“lee heeseung,” (y/n) huffs after catching sight of him through the slight gap of his door. he’s falling asleep slouched on his gaming chair. walking in, heeseung turns to her with eyes laden with drowsiness, eyelids threatening to close at every second. “you need sleep.”
he shakes his head—well, tries to but ends up swaying left and right. “no…just one more…mission…”
his slurred words and red rimmed eyes as he forces himself to stare onto his screen stress (y/n) out more than she’d expect.
“lee heeseung,” she sighs again and approaches to gently coax the headphones from his head before putting her hand over his eyes to close them.
heeseung grunts in complain—hands reaching for his headpiece but the moment his eyelids are forced shut, an undeniable comfort rests over his dry, overworked corneas and suddenly, he can’t find it in him to fight back.
a small sleepy hum from him is all the affirmation she needs. scoffing in amusement, she shuts down his computer and rolls him towards his bed using the gaming chair.
with a slight push, heeseung falls off his seat and lands on the mattress like a floppy doll, groaning and nuzzling his face into the plushness.
“let me fix you up a bit,” (y/n) huffs as she flips him onto his side and drags him just a little higher so his head rests on his pillow before pulling the covers up to his chest. satisfied, she pats his shoulder and turns. “goodnight, hee—”
she’s stopped by a weak grip on her sleeve and she turns to see heeseung looking up at her.
he’s blinking slow and heavy, like a cat does, before tugging her closer. “my eyes… they hurt.”
“hurt??” her voice laced with concern warms him and his fingers subtly curl tighter. “hold on, let me get the eyedrops then.”
but heeseung shakes his head again, successfully this time, and stares at her face with those breathtaking bambi eyes of his.
hesitant, almost bashful and he gulps. “like earlier, when you closed my eyes… do it again.”
his request shocks (y/n), making her freeze for a moment. but the way he gazes so earnestly even amidst his sleepiness has her caving.
“okay. sure,” she stammers slightly, puzzled but willing and heeseung’s plush lips pull into the softest smile. the mattress dips at his side when she takes a seat and with the hand that heeseung’s still holding onto, she places it on the upper half of his face like a heated eye mask.
the pitch black darkness and gentle warmth instantly cocoon his senses like a fuzzy blanket on a snow day, and he shifts his hand down to instead wrap loosely around her wrist as it to hold it still.
to make sure she stays.
it doesn’t take long for heeseung to fall asleep. almost instant. and when (y/n) sees the heaves of his chest slow, she carefully retracts her arm.
before being stopped by a discontent groan from the sleeping prince and his hands—yes, both now—wrap around her limb and pulls her down.
she gasps and falls into his side clumsily and nearly elbowing him in the face. but the way heeseung instantly burrows into her—relishing in her heat and comforting presence—with arms around her form and nose tickling her nape.
she doesn’t have to heart to wake him up.
after all, he’s not usually known to be the clingy type. the hovering type, maybe. always in the same room, standing beside a member or maybe even an arm around the shoulders. a hug here and there. but not clingy to the point of cuddly.
but maybe the lack of sleep from consecutive nighttime gaming after finally finishing promotions has done something to his brain—making him all loopy and floppy like a deflated balloon.
turning around in his grip, (y/n) smiles at his peaceful sleeping face, unaware and comfy.
besides, it’s been a while since she saw him so relaxed like this.
⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆
maybe spraying (y/n) with his perfume isn’t the best idea.
because now jay can’t help but feel oddly giddy and…content(?) that she’s walking around smelling like him.
another surprised yelp escapes her when he’s back to clinging onto her from behind, arms wrapped around her waist and chest against her spine as he buries his nose into the crook of her neck.
she laughs. “do you like this perfume that much?? spray it on yourself, then!”
jay shakes his head—black hair brushing against her cheek ticklishly—as a grin stretches onto his face. she can feel the motion against her skin. “it’s not that. it’s just, nicer on you for some reason.”
“yeah?” she chirps, though not really a question, and she leisurely walks into the kitchen for a snack.
although reluctant, he loosens his grip and lets his arms drop to his sides when she leaves.
his sharp eyes watch her go before turning around with a purse of his lips.
guess that’s the end of his clinging.
NOT.
because throughout the day, due to the magic of men’s perfume’s durability that challenges even the power of friendship, (y/n)’s walking around still smelling like him.
she’s watching the TV? oh, jay wants to join in too even when he doesn’t know a single character’s name.
she feels sleepy? she doesn’t need to go back to her own home or sleep on the couch! please, take a nap on jay’s bed. he insists!
ordering some food? jay’s there by her side as she scrolls through the online menu because he’s “feeling a little hungry too” even when he’s already eaten a horse with a field of grass on the side.
and (y/n)’s not dense enough to not notice.
but she knows how jay’s not forward enough to ask her directly for it, worried of breaching boundaries. so she does what she does best:
“wanna cuddle with me? i feel a little cold,” she offers, wearing a faux persistent pout.
be completely blunt about it.
now jay’s a rational man. logically, usually, he’d offer to turn up the temperature or give her a blanket. but today? he’d hide away the sun just so their cuddle session’s as long as he can get.
“yeah, sure,” he replies casually but the way he stuffs and fishes out his hands from his pockets before stuffing them again belie him.
he sits awkwardly on the couch when (y/n) shuffles away but the moment she practically drops herself onto him, his arms open wide to catch and they wrap around her protectively as an amused chuckle escapes.
“feel better?” he asks, voice in a charming baritone as he curls himself around her before carefully shifting so they’d end up lying on the couch with her all spooned up.
she nods against his chest and when she shuts her eyes while snuggling against him, jay swears his heart exploded and his jaw clenches—raising his face up with teeth gritted and eyes shut from cuteness aggression.
the scent of his expensive perfume and her own fragrance envelopes him whole and he inhales with contentment. arms tighten around her and legs wrapping with hers as he buries his face into her hair.
⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆
is it a secret that jake’s clingy? no. is it a secret that jake’s clingy with (y/n)? also no. therefore, it should be no secret that his clinginess challenges the laws of physics in which gravity doesn’t pull him towards the earth but towards (y/n) instead, right?
WRONG.
no one knows this.
why? because with the presences of others, this behaviour of his is watered down. he has to appear both cute and cool, reliable and clumsy, the full on golden retriever status.
so his affections are equally distributed between everyone, of course with occasional favourites. but when it’s just him, his members and (y/n) alone behind closed doors?
oh, his most favourite among favourites is so blatantly obvious it’s near painful.
10 minutes into their dorm and jake’s already eyeing her from the couch with a longing pout as she makes herself a drink.
she doesn’t even need to turn to know whose stare it is that’s poking the back of her head. “sim jaeyun.”
“yeah?” he responds, almost giddily and stands before she even beckons. when he’s a step away, his arms are already open to backhug her but is stopped when she spins and stuffs a cubic watermelon into his mouth.
his brows raise, eyes wide and head tilts in confusion as he chews.
“sweet, right?” she asks and he nods.
“it is!”
“great! i should make some more then.”
so she starts cutting up more fruits—moving here and there around the kitchen bar with a loyal tail in case she needs help and a hug.
…okay, hugs. not just one.
and when she’s done, jake still follows her around to offer the healthy delicacy to the others like some unpaid sidekick. and the moment she sits down?
POUNCE.
“finally!” he exclaims, smile ear to ear with pearly whites sparkling, eyes twinkling the same as he nuzzles into her shoulder from the side—arms around her waist and torso hunched to meet her height as they sit side by side on the couch.
“i knew it,” (y/n) mutters in surrender but can’t stop the amused laughter that escapes, making him snuggle closer until she’s leaning into the cushions—giving him full access to her front where he then chooses to lie on top of.
head burrows into the crook of her neck, sharp nose prodding, chest to chest and legs tangled while his bouncing hair tickles her to giggles.
“you’re so soft and warm,” he muffles into her shoulder and she hums in acknowledgment, one hand stroking the back of his head and he sighs with adoration.
and when his little, gleeful giggle begin to slow and quieten, it’s then she knows he’s falling asleep.
she glances down at him whose head is now on her chest, mien a picture of peace with eyes shut and plush lips pouted slightly from how his cheek’s all smooshed against her.
simply adorable.
he’s not even responding to her calling.
so when she moves slightly to slip away from under him, she’s already expecting a smooth escape.
…only to find out that wish is a little too ambitious.
because jake, albeit being previously perfectly unconscious, immediately becomes alert with brows knitting to a furrow, lips whining a small “not yetttt” or a “don’t gooo” while fingers curl around the sides of her shirt like a latching koala. he’ll shake his head side to side in protest and even lift his head up to bat his pretty brown eyes and stick out his bottom lip if need be.
“just five more minutes…?” he bargains, voice slurred with sleep, and (y/n) feels like she’d be cursed if she said no. so she doesn’t.
thus, with a little dopey grin and his fingers interlocking with hers alongside a half-asleep giggly comment on “wow, our hands fit perfectly… hihi,” as he falls back asleep.
…he’s got her right where he wants her.
⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆
one moment led to another. like how a freezing (y/n) led to a worried sunghoon and ended up with her all scooped up in his arms as he holds her close.
he didn’t plan this. at least, he didn’t plan on liking it this much.
but it just felt so right: her all spooned up and warm in his embrace and him getting a free weighted blanket that smells sweet and nuzzles against him like an oversized cat.
what’s not to like?
so ever since then, sunghoon’s been searching up excuses to get her in his arms again.
“hey, you cold?” hoon asks.
“nah, i’m good,” (y/n) replies.
“okay.”
then on another occasion:
“it’s getting pretty chilly, huh?”
“yeah, but nothing too bad.”
“…so you’re not feeling cold?”
“nope.”
“oh.”
then another…
“hey, i’m feeling kinda cold,” hoon starts.
“oh, you want a blanket?”
“nah, it’s fine,” he answers, then, “is there…something else i can use?”
“what, like a jacket? mine won’t fit you though.”
“no! not your jacket.”
“what else then?”
“…nevermind.”
it’s not an exaggeration to say none of his tries worked. so what does he do? sulk about it—not openly, though. quietly…where he just sits at the very end of the couch all alone and silent, or he just skulks around the spaces where (y/n) is and walking away whenever she acknowledges him.
but (y/n)’s not dumb. how can she not notice an 180cm tall man who practically glows in the dark from how fair he is? he’s got the sparkly skin of a killer. so one day, she caves.
she walks into the boys’ dorm, padded jacket on, gloves fuzzy and scarf tight. but when she sees sunghoon sitting in the living room, she’s quick to toss the scarf and gloves into her bag before walking in with an exaggerated shiver.
“wah~ it’s so cold out today! my lips were frozen during the shoot earlier,” she complains loudly and sunghoon’s quick to turn—catching the way she trembles and rubs her ungloved hands together.
his thick brows raise and lips curl upwards just by the slightest before he rushes over.
“didn’t i tell you to always wear gloves and a scarf? look at what’s happened,” he nags, voice low and slightly raised but he can’t hide the slight excitement slipping through from the pitchy fluctuations of his tone.
she bites back a grin. “sorry. i was rushing.”
“and your manager didn’t have any spares?” he shoots back but is already making work of removing her snow-covered jacket and shaking them off.
“come here, let’s get you warm,” he mumbles so quietly she almost doesn’t hear and pulls her to the couch before pulling her into his side. “don’t make this a habit.”
despite his ‘scolding,’ the way he practically melts onto her as arms tighten say otherwise and she subtly shakes her head with an exhale through her nose.
“if you say so.”
⋆˙𐙚 K.SUNOO 𐙚˙⋆
it started off as an accident. sunoo got sick one day, (y/n) came over the dorm to check on him, got carried away in taking care of him and fell asleep with her head on his mattress.
wake up the next day, she’s lying next to him, all huddled up with sunoo clinging onto her. and ever since, he found it easier to sleep with something—or someone—to hold. only her though, because she doesn’t move too much, doesn’t take up all the space.
sadly, she doesn’t live at the dorms. so their cuddle sessions are cut short. sometimes even his vitamins, sleeping aids and midnight movies can’t help—especially when his mind’s too crowded, too loud.
so whenever she comes over, he takes his chance.
“(y/n)!” he chirps instantly once she walks in and she squeals out his name before grabbing his hands and hopping together.
“sun! what are you doing here? i thought you were going to have lunch with jay,” she says and she puts down the bag of snacks on the counter in which sunoo immediately rummages.
“mint choco ice cream! this is why you’re the best!” he gasps, eyes upturning to crescents and smile wide, puffed cheeks glowy. “i didn’t feel like going. felt a bit tired.”
(y/n)’s head perks up instantly and eyes follow as he starts putting away the snacks. “tired?”
he nods with a pout. “couldn’t sleep so well these days.”
her gears spin, thinking of how to help but sunoo beats her to it.
“wanna watch a movie?”
they end up on the couch and as expected, halfway through sunoo has his head resting on her lap, already getting sleepy with her putting clips on his hair. she’s focused on the screen, invested in the plot while he’s already drifting in and out of consciousness, his eyelids heavy.
a soft grunt sounds from him before he flips over to instead face her stomach and nuzzling closer, too sleepy to care and (y/n) jolts slightly.
but when she sees him practically fold into her—knees to his chest, one hand curled under his jaw while the other’s wrapped around her waist loosely and lashes fluttering as he keeps his eyes closed—she can only smile.
gingerly, she undoes the clips in his hair to instead slowly stroke his head and he remembers himself feeling soothed and placated, a smile on his face as he falls asleep.
his fingers twitch to curl on her lower back whenever she so shifts.
⋆˙𐙚 Y.JUNGWON 𐙚˙⋆
jungwon’s strong. more than all those arm wrestling matches might make it look. because his strength isn’t just from the hands, but the arms and the core. his body control is no joke.
which is why he’s made it his hobby to practically just carry (y/n) around whenever he wants. lifting practice he says.
it actually started from her not wanting to practice—opting to instead lay flat on the shiny studio floors or sleepily grumbling whenever she feels the laziness settles in.
but yang jungwon, as leader of enhypen, can’t have that. he’s here for order—but also, fun. so what does he do?
he grabs her hands and hoists her up easily before dragging her to the dance floor—her soles squeaking against the sparkly floor.
and since then, he does it whenever he wants.
“YOI!” he randomly sounds and suddenly, she’s levitating off her apartment’s bar stool and put on her living room couch with jungwon then sinking beside her.
translation: come hang out with me.
on another occasion, he quite literally picks her up, carries her through the corridor and onto the kitchen counter just so he can feed her strawberries with chocolates as he makes them.
then another, he has her head leaning on his broad shoulder when she’s feeling sleepy and his cheek resting on her crown. dimples surface when she starts playing with his fingers on his thigh and his smile broadens more when she slowly stops, showing that she’s fallen asleep.
he doesn’t say it much, but he loves having her around.
she doesn’t even have to do anything.
he finds comfort and peace in her silence, while finding excitement and amusement in her exuberance.
everything about her feels…warm, welcoming.
like home personified.
a soft sigh from her makes him turn to look and he’s quick to stroke her cheek, smiling when she relaxes against him again.
yeah, he’s staying home.
⋆˙𐙚 N.RIKI 𐙚˙⋆
it’s not newfound knowledge that ni-ki has an affinity for things smaller than him. like kittens or cute little trinkets. but the most obvious one, is for people.
whenever children are involved in a shoot or set, he can be seen wearing that sweet, excited boxy smile of his while he crouches to their height—giving high-fives or making casual chatter.
the affection that pours from his eyes is blatant.
and this extends towards (y/n) as well who’s shorter and smaller than him. but because she’s her, there’s a slight difference…
he becomes a big, playful tease.
it’s always whenever she’s doing the most mundane things.
watching TV on the couch? he comes up from behind and ruffles her hair. she’s scrolling on her phone at the kitchen bar? he pops up beside her to tap on her screen and runs when she turns to snap—not without sneaking a pinch to her cheek.
she’s getting her makeup done? suddenly, instead of the soft bristles of a brush, she feels the soft pad of a finger poking and caressing her skin. unsurprisingly, it’s ni-ki who then hops away mischievously while snickering like a cartoon villain.
“cute. you’re just so cute,” he says quietly one day, lips stretched to show his pearly whites as he looks down at the girl who’s glaring up at him.
“i’m stomping on your toes,” she huffs before walking away only to get crushed in his embrace.
“wahh~ i’m scared!” he feigns fear, yet the monotonous lilt in his bass voice fools no one and he swings her around in his arms while she yelps, legs dangling.
“nishimura riki!” she exclaims, eyes crinkling with mirth, but before she can even say anything else, riki runs to the couch with her in hold and she shrieks, ready to be crushed alive.
but riki swiftly slows before landing onto the cushions softly—one knee before the other—and successfully sandwiching her onto the seats.
she lets out a muffled “oof!” and continues to wiggle while ni-ki lies on top of her, but not entirely that she’s carrying all his weight.
a big, boxy smile on his face as he holds her tight against him like an oversized teddy bear, low deep chuckles crawling up his throat and sending vibrations through her bod.
“you’re heavy,” (y/n) comments but can’t help feeling safe being all encased, cheeks all squished and lips puckered from the squeeze and ni-ki lets out an almost pained grunt—eyes shutting tight and head rising backwards before he nuzzles into her hair.
“cute.”
he can’t say too much, though. don’t wanna break character. even when he’s practically smothering her with undoubted affection.
ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙
𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they motivate me, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
AKA━━━━⊱ you ask jay to fuck you hard and he does; while he records for his friends, of course.
pt. i of THRILL [pt. ii | pt. iii | pt, iv]
pairing | jay × reader
genre: smut | wc: 3.7k | content: smut, unprotected sex (p in v; wrap it before you tap it), fingering, brief oral (f receiving), spanking, pussy slapping, rough sex, consensual recording of sex, doggy style, hair pulling, cervix kissing, lowkey cock shaming? (i just be writing anything), squirting, jay cum's on the readers ass, brief use of daddy, mentions of other partners, aftercare mentioned
mcwilla.log: merry christmas..? i've been on a writing kick so this may or may not be my last post until the holidays - we'll see. thank you so much for the love on my last fic, it genuinely warms my heart more than you all know. next fic will either be the ni-ki req or the start of a heeseung miniseries (teehee). likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated; as always, thank you for supporting my work!
The sweat pooled between your back and Jay’s chest would’ve been disgusting in any instance other than this one. With both of your clothes discarded somewhere on the floor and his chest pressed flush against your back, you, quite frankly, didn’t give a flying fuck about anything else.
Jay hovered over you; his arms parallel to your face as he fiddled with his phone on the windowsill. You just sat there, patient as ever and admiring your boyfriend on the camera. You tried to sit still, but, fuck it, you were horny. Goddamn that gorgeous man.
This was almost routine at this point—Jay recording you. He was protective and easily provoked with fits of jealousy, so it was contradictory. Wouldn’t someone so hellbent on making sure everyone knew you were his want to keep your sex life a secret? Well, sure, in a sense. It wasn’t like he was posting these videos for the world—not at all. He was just sending them to his groupchat, obviously.
You couldn’t remember the first time this happened, but for some reason, it didn’t bother you. You weren’t stupid. You noticed Heeseung’s wandering eyes that always landed on your chest, you weren’t oblivious when it came to Sunghoon trying to show off his gym progress, and there was no way Jake wasn’t even a little bit conscious when he’d drape his body over your own at the bar. But the weirdest part? Jay never cared.
Your boyfriend would’ve pulled you possessively close and thrown a mean look over his shoulder had it been anyone other than his friends acting like this. You’d thought about it a lot—what the difference was in response, and you finally came up with your conclusion.
Jay got off on it.
Jay simply loved knowing his friends were so enamored with you that they probably jerked off to your Instagram account. He loved knowing he was the one that got to fuck you—not them; loved knowing that he was the one splitting you open on his cock, he was the one tasting your delicious pussy, he was the one making you cum and cry and beg for more.
And yeah, his friends talked about it. His friends mentioned how hot you were, cornered Jay into giving them details about the sex, everything. Quick comments of, “How tight is she,” and even, “How does she look when she cums—fuck, I bet she sounds so hot.” And you knew, though you pretended you didn’t.
So, when one night of disgustingly passionate sex after a night out with Jake and Heeseung eyefucking you was coming to an end, Jay asked if he could record. You said yes, he pressed the button, and after five minutes of slow, sensual strokes, you came around Jay with a loud cry and soft whimpers to accompany your clenches.
“I’m sending this to the guys,” he said as you two started drifting off.
You just laughed in response and said “Do it, I wanna see what they say.”
And after that night, it became routine. Jay didn’t always record the two of you, maybe once every few months. But the knowledge that the camera was on and his friends would be watching turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Jay liked to rub it in their faces. He liked to say I’m the one who gets to fuck her pussy, not you without actually saying it.
Tonight was different; tonight had a purpose.
“Fuck,” you felt his muscles flex beneath you. You reached up and grabbed Jay’s bicep, a soft moan slipping past your lips; you were getting impatient. “I don’t like the angle, it’s pissing me off.”
Jay grabbed the phone from the windowsill and put it in your hands. He adjusted your arms, making sure your face and chest were visible. The only part of himself on camera was his chest and shoulders, but he got cut off at the neck. Jay pressed a few kisses on your neck, wet and open mouthed, as his hands found themselves on your waist. He stroked your skin, soft and lovingly before giving it a quick squeeze.
“Wanna press record for me, baby?” He murmured into your neck. You nodded, hands shaking as your fingers found the red button on his phone. Jay’s hands splayed themselves over your stomach, the tips of his fingers dangerously close to your pussy. You were wet—so wet—with anticipation that the mere suggestion of Jay touching you made you impossibly wetter.
“They can’t see you,” you breathed out.
Jay chuckled. His fingers found your clit as they rubbed soft circles onto the bud. Your back arched up off his chest and a moan fell from your kiss-swollen lips. “It’s okay—they know who’s fucking you.”
Jay continued touching you, and you just stared into the camera. You made pouty faces and gave it soft winks and smiles as though you were testing out angles for a selfie or admiring your fresh makeup. Every now and again, when Jay would rub your clit just right, your mouth would fall open or your face would twist with pleasure. You’d catch it on the screen, and a soft blush would rest across your cheeks with a shy smile across your lips.
“Tell them what’s happening,” Jay whispered. His fingers picked up the pace; you internally cursed him because you knew he did it on purpose—knew he wanted to hear your voice quiver and shake while you addressed his friends.
“Uhm,” you began, a shy giggle slipping past you as you moaned. “Wha,” you squeezed your eyes shut, “Whad’you want me to tell them?”
“What you told me,” Jay’s voice was low and sensual. You could hear him fine, but the video only picked it up in the distance, although the viewer could hear him clearly. “What you want me to do.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. Right. That. “Oh,” you bite your lip as Jay picks up his pace again before quickly slowing down. His fingers move along your swollen bud slowly now, large circles that make you shake with want. “I told Jay that,” you hesitate a bit, staring at yourself on the screen with big eyes.
Jay comes into view now, hooking his chin over your shoulder. He admires the two of you on screen and a sly smirk paints his sharp features. Jay licks his lips and chuckles before he latches onto your neck. He nips and sucks your skin, making you jump each time he makes contact with a new area. “C’mon, use your words,” he says, “Tell ‘em what you told me—don’t get shy now.”
You swallow thickly before nodding. “I kinda want him to be,” you hesitate again, your voice growing smaller. “Like, rough with me.”
“Like what?”
A whine slips past you as you purse your lips into a pout. Of course, he’s doing this. Jay likes to act all macho when the camera’s on, likes to humiliate you because he knows it’s what his friends get off to.
“Like, slap me a bit, be a lil’ rough—not too much, though! I don’t wanna hurt.”
“Y’know I won’t hurt you, baby.”
You nod again. Your lip is between your teeth once more and you will yourself to keep talking. “Fuck me harder than usual—y’know? I jus’ kinda wonder what it feels like.”
“Yeah,” he’s talking to the camera now, “Figured I’d show you boys what it’s like to throw her around.” A wicked smirk takes over him once more as he removes himself from your neck and focuses on the camera. Jay grabs the phone from you and puts it on the windowsill. He fiddles with it again, obviously unhappy with the angle. Jay clicks his tongue, ultimately deciding it’ll do.
The camera shows more now. It shows your completely naked body and how you’re sitting on the bed, back against Jay’s chest and legs open for them to see you dripping. The angle also shows Jay’s fingers back on your pussy. They rub slow circles on your clit once more, and with your hands free you take the opportunity to grab onto Jay’s biceps. Your eyes are screwed shut, mouth hung open as soft pants slip out. Jay kisses your shoulder once, twice, before he removes his hands and brings them to your waist.
Jay scooches back from you and hooks his arms under your armpits. He hoists you up until you’re sitting on your knees before he places his hand on the small of your back. “Bend over for me,” he commands, and of course, you comply.
You let Jay’s hand guide you down - face first into the sheets. Your cheek is pressed into the cloth when you feel Jay grab your hands. He binds the two with the fingers of just one of his hands while the other lands a sharp smack across your ass. Immediately, you feel the sting from his hand, yet you still moan. The sound surprises you, but not Jay. No, Jay expected you to like it—he knows you too well.
He holds your wrists behind your back and soothes the red print with his hand. Your thighs clench together, and he notices.
“C’mon, don’t hide from me,” he coos. Your pussy oozes arousal and you feel Jay drag his finger up your slit. Your hips move on their own, pushing back towards him for some kind of relief. Jay clicks his tongue, gathering the wetness onto his fingers before pulling away.
He leans towards the camera and spreads his fingers apart. The scene is grotesque; your slick strings together as his fingers spread, wetness visibly dripping down their slender form all for the phone to see. Jay makes eye contact with the camera, smirking while he brings his fingers into his mouth. The man laps at them—starved. He moans and sighs in pleasure, eyes screwed shut as he relishes in your taste.
He pulls away, examining your position. Jay leans forward, licks a thick stripe up your pussy, and lands another sharp slap, this time on your pussy. You twitch and cry out, tears prickling into your eyes.
Jay chuckles before shoving two of his fingers inside of you—rough and unapologetic with no warning. He pumps his digits in and out, in and out, at a brutal pace. There’s no intention of slowing down or showing you any signs of mercy. The squelchy sounds of your pussy are obscene—the sound bouncing off the walls all around the two of you.
“Yeah, look at that—fuck. You’re sucking them in, baby,” Jay leans forward and kisses your pussy, lips attaching to your clit as he suckles the swollen bud. Your whines join the rest of the absurd sounds, putting on a show for the camera.
Jay curls his fingers perfectly, right at the spot he knows drives you mad. You let out a particularly loud moan, and that seemed to be Jay’s cue. He picks up the pace, slamming his fingers in and out of you, abusing the spongy spot inside of your pussy. The palm of his hand smacks against your ass with every thrust, the sound of skin on skin now loud and obscene.
You clench around him, the whines of his name now accompanied with soft pants. Jay knows you’re getting close, and so without a second thought, he pulls his fingers away. Whimpers fall from your lips, tears coming to your eyes once more at the loss of contact.
“Jay,” you cry.
Jay coos at you, sucking his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. He chuckles at you, almost mocking your state. “It’s okay, baby. Ion’ want you to cum too fast.”
You whine again, pushing your ass back in hopes he’ll give you something. Jay responds to your action with a smack, his hand rubbing the red skin as he presses a kiss to it. Jay cups himself through his boxers, palming his erection as he lets out a groan of relief. His cock is already hard and leaking precum, a wet patch on the front of his underwear signaling he can’t wait much longer.
He pulls his cock out, pumping himself as he stares at your position. Your hole clenches around nothing, oozing arousal. Jay screws his eyes shut, mouth hung open as he fucks himself with his hand.
“Oh, fuck,” he hisses when he ceases his motions. Jay scoots closer to you, lining his tip with your hole. You whine at the sudden contact, pushing back against him in hopes of getting him inside you faster. Jay doesn’t think twice before spanking you again, this time not offering any comfort.
“Fuck, you guys are missing out,” he speaks to the camera, his smirk coming back. “Tip’s barely in and she’s already tight as fuck.” Jay pushes into you about two inches before settling. You’re tighter than ever. His chest rises and falls as he tries to steady his breathing, but fuck, you feel so good. It’s all overwhelming, even to him.
Jay settles his hands on your hips, snapping his hips forward as he buries another couple inches into you. You feel so full, and he’s still not even done. That’s what you love about your boyfriend’s dick - he’s so big that even half feels like you’re going to fucking die. He hardly ever uses his whole length, but when he does - it’s heaven.
You begin to rock back onto him, a silent signal that you’re ready for him to start. Jay clicks his tongue before letting out a sigh, “Patience, baby.”
You whine at his words, pouting against the sheets. Jay doesn’t wait long before giving you what you want, however. Quickly, he starts his thrusts. Rough and fast, not letting up. He brings your hips back to meet his thrusts, your whole body limp and pliable under his magnificent hands.
You’re being fucked like a stupid doll. Back and forth, back and forth, it doesn’t stop. The smacks that ring out through the room as your ass bounces off his pelvis are loud, but it only eggs him on. Jay hit the spot that makes you see stars, and you cry out louder than you have tonight.
Your hands find purchase in the sheets around you, desperately trying to anchor your body from the damn near abusing pace Jay has set. Soft breaths are punched out of you with every thrust; Jay’s own grunts and groans are raw and full of need.
Jay slows his movements down when he fists a handful of your hair. He pulls on it and drags your body up; back flush against his chest as you’re pulled onto your knees. You stare at yourself on camera; nose red and raw, eye makeup smudged with tears, drool collecting around the corners of your mouth. Jay keeps his hold on your hair with one hand and grabs your breast with his other, manhandling the mound of flesh.
“Look at them,” he says to you. You nod at him, eyes remaining focused on his phone. “Tell ‘em how you feel.”
Your lips quiver as you try to find your words, but you simply can’t. Your eyes drift down to your pussy visible on the screen - split open on Jay’s cock and dripping in an insane manner. Jay notices, removing his hand from your chest and bringing it to your pussy. He spreads your lips open, showcasing your pretty pussy to his friends.
A possessive smile spreads across his face, “Her pussy looks so good split open like this, huh?” You moan at his touch and words, which just gives him the confidence to keep going. “She wouldn’t look nearly as good on any of you guys, though.”
His fingers find your clit, giving it slow, languid rubs while Jay leans towards your neck. His lips find your sweaty skin, latching on and leaving open mouthed kisses all over. His tongue darts out, licking up a bead of sweat as he enjoys the salty taste.
“She only likes to fuck guys with big dicks, right, babe?”
You let out a laugh of disbelief that quickly morphs into a moan.
“Answer me,” he whispers into your neck.
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Mhm? C’mon, be a big girl and use your words. I know they’re in there, somewhere.”
“Ye,” you’re interrupted by a moan, “yeah - yes.”
Jay smirks. He releases his grip on your hair, letting you crash down onto the mattress beneath him. Jay resumes his pace. His cock is splitting you open—you barely had time to adjust before he set the speed.
His tip hits the right spot; the place that has your eyes rolling back and toes curling, the place that makes you see stars and has you reaching back to your boyfriend for comfort. Jay notices. Jay keeps fucking you like a stupid doll.
Harder.
Faster.
Messier.
Your ass meets his pelvis time and time again. Loud smacks bounce off the walls, the raw sound of skin on skin colliding is obvious to anyone who dares to hear what the two of you are doing. Jay loves it. Jay gets off on it.
You feel his ego growing by the second; every clench of your pussy and twitch of his cock a signal that he’s coming close to letting go. You are too.
You feel the familiar feeling deep inside your gut. The heat is rising; your stomach is suddenly heavy and you’re way too aware of everything happening. You’re aware of every drag of Jay’s cock—aware of every vein caressing your gummy walls.
Your moans increase in volume, Jay’s name spilling out of your lips. The entire scene looks and sounds like some kind of cheap porno performance, and you’d think so too if you weren’t actively living it.
“Fuck, baby,” Jay moans above you. His jaw is slack, eyes screwed shut.
“J,” you can barely finish his name at the pace he’s fucking you. “Jay—I’m gonna,”
“Fuck, me too baby.”
Something inside you snaps at that moment. Immediately, your body goes slack, brain goes numb, vision gets foggy. You cum more intensely than you ever have. Your juices squirt out of you, arousal coating Jay’s cock and thighs and pelvis. He’s simply dripping with you—all for his friends to see on the other end.
Jay doesn’t stop when you cum - he keeps fucking you with that raw, brutal pace he’s had set for the night. A low groan comes from deep within Jay’s chest. He feels your walls clench around him from the overstimulation.
“Shit—you’re so hot. I’m gonna—fuck,”
Jay pulls out of you in one swift motion. He angles himself above your ass, shooting ropes of his milky cum all over your red ass cheeks. Jay continues to pump his cock, milking himself until he’s emptied his entire load onto you.
You sit there, cheek still pressed into the mattress with tears running down your face, panting and desperately trying to catch your breath. You feel Jay press himself against you as he grabs the camera from the windowsill. He flips it, showing your cum-covered ass off to his friends.
“Look at her,” he says, fingers collecting his cum. He briefly shows the wetness of his thighs, laughing as he coos at your fucked out state. Jay presses his palm to your back, pressuring you to lay flat down onto your stomach. You comply, simply because you don’t have enough strength in your entire body to resist your boyfriend.
Jay hovers over you, camera shoved in your face as he shows you off to the audience. He brings his fingers to your lips, beckoning you to open them before he shoves his fingers into your mouth. You lap at them wildly, sucking the cum off his fingers until they’re clean.
Jay just laughs at you, “Yeah, show ‘em how needy you are for daddy’s cum.”
You moan around his fingers, eyes rolling back at his words. You pull off his fingers with a loud pop. Jay grabs your jaw, forcing you to face the camera. A cheeky smile spreads across your face; your tongue poking out with remnants of his cum before you pull it back into your mouth and swallow the rest of it.
You’re a mess—a beautiful fucking mess. Your hair’s all tousled and in your face, sticking to the damp skin adorned with tears and smudged mascara.
“Mm,” you moan, "tastes good, daddy. I wan’ more.”
Jay kisses the top of your head. “How was that, babygirl?”
You nod, nuzzling into Jay’s harsh grip on your jaw. “Good.”
“Don’t tell me—tell them.”
You open your hooded eyes wider, watching yourself on screen. “Sunghoon—it was really good,” you swallow your breaths for a moment, “you wanna join us next time?”
Jay lets out a low whistle, speaking up off camera, “You’re gonna leave Jake and Heeseung out?”
You laugh and bite your lip, “I didn’t say that. Jakey and Heeseung can join, jus’ thought Sunghoon would want to the most.”
Jay clicks the red button, ending the recording before he tosses his phone onto the comforter. He smoothes his hands over your body, a sudden sense of gentleness following his movements. You feel his weight leave the bed and you lay there, waiting for Jay to return.
When he does, he has a bottle of water and a wet washcloth. Jay doesn’t even let you attempt to move, just shushes you as he carefully wipes you down and finds your long-forgotten clothes on the floor.
“Are you okay—for real?”
You nod and giggle at his sudden soft disposition, “Yes, Jay. I’m fine,” you reach out for your boyfriend, “c’mere.”
He accepts your spent invitation, settling directly on top of you as you huff out a dramatic breath and mumble something about him being heavy. Jay just mocks you, reaching for his phone. He spends some time on it, splitting the video into chunks small enough to send to his friends. Jay kisses your head and your cheek and anywhere else accessible to him; he simply refuses to leave you without affection.
Jay sends the clips to his groupchat, one by one until almost the whole encounter is in the hands of Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung. He tosses his phone onto the bed, settling on top of you while he continues peppering you with kisses.
Barely two minutes later, Jay’s phone buzzes—five, six, seven times. It keeps buzzing, but Jay just laughs into your hair.
“Sounds like they like it,” he mumbles into you, “I hope you weren’t lying about letting them join.”
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synopsis: in which your reckless driving leads to you spending your summer babysitting your father’s business partners son.
genre: rich dad au
pairing: chaebol!jay x younger bratty!reader
warnings: 12 year age gap! reader is 23 and jay is 35, lots and lots of tension, bratty!reader, meandom!jay, possessive!jay, bickering, lots of cornering (like a lot), forced submission, spanking ass + pussy, dub-con in some instances, (oral f. rec), fingering, choking, manhandling, binding with belt, rough p in v (unprotected), forced confession of feelings, cum eating, lots of talk about age. i think that’s it ….
wc: 22.4k
a/n: holy fuck balls you guys. this was the longest piece i’ve written and i feel like ive lost my mind. i feel like a changed woman with all this plot and the minimal smut… like what happened. also wtf is a 1000 block limit…? i had to go back and merge paragraphs because tumblr has a limit apparently. so now, it’s just merged together which is so annoying. anyways, this is for those who voted for babysitter jay! stay tuned i plan on putting another pole out for the next fic. thank you for all the love on my fics <33 notes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. enjoy :)))
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
you should've known something like this would happen. when your father instructed you to go to his office to pick up some papers for him, you had a gut feeling that something bad was going to happen.
it was your father's fault, really. if he hadn't called you in the middle of the day, nagging about how you needed to "grow up" and "take responsibility" and "learn a thing or two from your old man," you wouldn't have been so distracted. and if you hadn't been so distracted, you wouldn't have slammed your car straight into the back of someone else's.
a very expensive looking car at that.
your heart was still hammering against your ribs as you sat stiffly on the sidewalk, your car parked haphazardly next to the damaged luxury vehicle you had just rear-ended. you stumbled out of your car, not having the guts to walk up to the car you had absolutely demolished to talk to the owner.
people passing by casted you pitying glances, but none of them could possibly understand the deep, all-consuming regret swirling in your chest.
your father was going to kill you.
worse, the owner of the car was going to kill you.
"you've got to be fucking kidding me."
a deep voice cut through the sound of honking cars and murmuring pedestrians. you squeezed your eyes shut, already dreading the moment you'd have to turn around. but you had no choice, so with a slow inhale, you finally lifted your gaze.
oh fuck my life.
and immediately wanted to crawl into a hole.
"oh, you've really done it this time," you muttered under your breath, swallowing harshly as the man you recognized as jay park, your father's business partner, the ceo of a multimillion-dollar company, and the man whose car you just destroyed—stood in front of you.
looking absolutely livid.
jay was wearing a crisp black suit, but his jacket was slung over his arm, and the top buttons of his white dress shirt were undone. despite the clear annoyance twisting his sharp features, he still managed to look ridiculously handsome. infuriatingly handsome. disregarding your history with the man, you didn't know if you wanted to jump his bones or get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.
his dark eyes flickered from the dent in his car's bumper to where you sat on the sidewalk, one brow raising as realization dawned on him.
"you have got to be kidding me," he repeated, voice laced with disbelief. "of course it's you". his dark eyes narrowed down on your smaller frame, his mouth twisted in a scowl as he ran his hand through his thick black locks in frustration.
you scowled, crossing your arms. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
fuck his forgiveness.
jay let out a sharp laugh, rubbing a hand down his face. "it means i'm not even surprised. reckless, irresponsible, and spoiled? sounds exactly like you."
"let me guess? daddy's going to take care of this for you? typical," he sneers down at you.
your blood boiled, immediately getting up from the sidewalk so you could stalk up to him. "oh, please. don't act like you know me." he scoffed, leaning down slightly so that his face was closer to yours. "i don't need to know you. your reputation does all the talking, brat."
you clenched your jaw at the name.
he wasn't completely wrong, but you'd rather die than admit that.
jay exhaled heavily, moving back up and pulling out his phone. "i'm calling your father."
your eyes widened in panic. "wait! no, you don't have to do that—"
but it was too late. jay was already dialing, his expression unreadable as he brought the phone to his ear.
you felt like you were about to throw up.
you didn't hear the full conversation, but based on the way jay's jaw tightened and the glance he shot you, you could tell it wasn't going well. after a few more exchanges, he hung up, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
"so?" you asked hesitantly, already bracing yourself for the worst. jay crossed his arms, looking far too pleased with himself. "your father and i came to an agreement."
you narrowed your eyes. "what kind of agreement?"
jay smirked. "instead of paying for the damage, you're going to babysit my son as reparation."
you stared at him. blinked. "what?"
he checked his watch, clearly done with the conversation. "i'll send you the details later. don't be late." and just like that, he walked off, leaving you standing by the sidewalk, utterly speechless.
this could not be happening.
babysitting? you?
you groaned, letting your head drop back.
this was going to be a nightmare, and you needed to wake up.
you make your way to your car, your fists clenching as you mentally prepare yourself to talk to your father.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
"this is so unnecessary, dad."
your father scoffs half heartedly, "you made a mistake, this is the least you could do, __."
"why can't we pay for the repairs, this is completely unnecessary!" you exclaim, your perfectly maintained brows shooting up as you cross your arms—staring at your father with a pointed look.
"besides, he could get anyone who's actually good with children to babysit his kid," you add on with a huff.
he sighs, his eyes shutting in temporary defeat, "__," he says with a warning tone. "mr.park is being nice enough to not file a report and get points deducted from your licence and possibly have your permit suspended. the least you could do is babysit his son, it shows that you are remorseful for your actions. the kids well behaved and you only need to be there for a few hours."
you roll your eyes, this was stupid. it's not like he even cared about the car, so what you crashed into it.
"fine, but just this once. this isn't going to be a reoccurring thing, right?" you hiss at the end, looking at your father with resentment when his face changes into one of relief.
"i may have mentioned that you're not taking classes in the summer, and that you're free throughout the week so we'll see..." he trails off, watching your expression morph into one of disbelief.
"are you ser—" you begin only for knocking at the door to interrupt your sentence. you whip your head around harshly, ready to verbally abuse whoever had dared to interrupt you.
"come in."
the door opened slightly, a house maid peering her head between the crack. "mr.__, mr.kim is here," she informs timidly, catching onto the bad energy in the room.
your father smiles, "we'll be right down, thank you teresa."
you scowl at her, her eyes widening for a moment before she scurries off—shutting the door behind her.
"dad i—" he cuts you off, "—__, we will continue this conversation next time. mr.kim is waiting for us downstairs, you know what to do when mr.park contacts you, right?" his eyebrows furrowed as he stares at you with narrowed eyes.
you let out a frustrated sigh, "yes, dad."
"good, be on your best behaviour."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
later that evening, you had sufficiently screamed into your pillow and considered packing your bags to flee the country. you were on the phone with one of your best friends, minho, who attempted to comfort you through your mental break down.
"you don't understand, minho. my life is ending," you wailed softly, pressing your face against your pillow—almost suffocating yourself.
minho rolls his eyes behind the screen, he was lucky you weren't on facetime or you'd have his neck.
"__, you're literally just babysitting for the man. you'll be fine."
"no, minho. you're still not getting it! it's the fact that i have to babysit for that asshole. i swear to god i've had beef with him for the last 4 years. he always has a stick up his ass," you ramble.
"are you sure you have beef with him? sounds one sided to me.." he trails off making you let out a gasp—offended at his words.
"you're supposed to be on my side, dick. whatever, i'll talk to you later. if i'm not dead," you whine dramatically.
minho scoffs, "yeah, yeah. love you, talk soon."
"love you too, bitch. bye."
you hang up the phone, staring mindlessly at your roof as you think about the events of today. jay wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so uptight all the time. he was actually hot. really, hot.
you think back to the times where the two of you interacted, the fake polite nods you sent his ways and the way he tried to hide his dislike for you behind his charming smile whenever there were others around. the way he'd brush up against you whenever he walked by you, or how his voice deepened when he said your name.
you had noticed his gaze slide up and down your frame on multiple occasions, choosing to ignore it but secretly loving the way he looked like he hated you. however, all these moments get pushed aside when you remember all the times he was an absolute dick towards you.
jay had a way of making himself the most infuriating person on the planet—whether he did it on purpose or not. and judging by the smug way his lips always curled whenever he got under your skin, you knew it was always on purpose. he liked seeing you riled up, he liked it when you bit back at him.
the first time you met him, he completely ignored you. it was at some stupid business dinner your father had forced you to attend. while everyone exchanged pleasantries, jay didn't even acknowledge you. not a single glance. not even when you introduced yourself. instead, he sipped his whiskey, eyes trained on anything but you. it wasn't until you had walked past him that he finally said something.
"spoiled little princess, huh?"
you turned back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "what did you just say to me?" this was the first time he had talked to you, and this is what he has to say?
he smirked over the rim of his glass. "nothing."
you scoffed, rolling your eyes in distaste before sauntering away. jay's eyes following every movement of your hips as you slowly get lost in the crowd.
he loved pointing out your mistakes.
when you got a flat tire outside your father's office, jay happened to be walking by. you were already frustrated, struggling with your phone to call for roadside assistance, when his voice rang out behind you.
"let me guess. you don't even know how to change a tire, do you?"
you scoffed, glaring at him. "do you?"
he chuckled, shaking his head. "of course i do. but i don't help people who look at me like they'd rather set me on fire."
he always had a comment about your attitude.
"you pout too much."
you blinked, pausing mid-sip of your drink. "excuse me?"
jay leaned against the bar counter at yet another business event, swirling the ice in his glass as he looked at you with mild amusement. "you pout too much. like a brat who didn't get what she wanted."
you scoffed, setting your glass down with a little too much force. "maybe that's just my face."
he smirked, eyes flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "yeah? then why do you only do it around me?"
it was safe to say that you hated him and overall wanted nothing to do with him or his kid.
you groan into your pillow, "why me," you whine. suddenly, your phone pings.
you received a text from an unknown number.
jay: 9 am sharp. don't be late. i don't tolerate irresponsibility.
you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of your head.
you: don't worry, i wouldn't dare disappoint you, your highness.
his reply came almost immediately.
jay: that's mr. park to you.
you: my deepest apologies, park jongseong.
he didn't respond after that.
dickwad.
you tossed your phone onto your bed, groaning into your hands.
this was going to be a very, very long summer.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
you were not a morning person, and your lack of sleep was not helping. so when your alarm blared at an ungodly hour, your first instinct was to throw your phone across the room and go back to sleep—but you couldn't. because you had a job to do.
a job that you weren't getting compensated for.
or, more accurately, a job you were being forced into doing. it was unpaid labor by your father.
"consider it a way to build character and experience," he had said to you, sipping his coffee without a shred of sympathy or remorse as you gaped at him.
"consider it a way to ruin my life," you had shot back, but it hadn't mattered.
so here you were, running on three hours of sleep and a whole lot of resentment, pulling up to jay park's house—a sleek, modern mansion that screamed wealth. the kind of wealth that made you roll your eyes but also, begrudgingly, admire just a little. the driveway alone could fit at least six cars, and the front door? massive, dark wood, and intimidating as hell.
jay displayed his wealth proudly, whereas your father preferred to keep himself grounded. you get out of the car, your father had insisted that the driver drop you off.
"we don't need you crashing into another one of mr.park's cars," he had said, ushering you out the door.
you rolled your eyes, begrudgingly agreeing, not because you agreed that you were a terrible driver. but because you were tired and didn't have it in you to argue with him and get your way.
"when shall i pick you up ma'am?" your driver asked you.
you think for a second, "i'll inform you when."
you sighed, running a hand through your hair before pressing the doorbell.
within seconds, the door swung open. revealing a rather, dare you say, scandalous looking jongseong.
his typically neatly slicked back hair was frazzled, strands of his dark locks picking onto his forehead. he was wearing a thin white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons of his shirt undone, a thin silver chain adorned on his neck and his exposed collar bone. his plump lips were pulled into a rather lazy smirk in contrast to his typical scowl that you were used to him greeting you with. his sharp gaze flickering over you like he was already unimpressed.
it was entirely unfair how good he looked this early in the morning.
his lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smirk but wasn't exactly friendly either.
"you're late."
your eyes narrowed, glancing at your phone. "it's 9:02."
jay raised a brow. "exactly."
your jaw clenched. two minutes. he was seriously acting like two damn minutes was a crime.
you forced a tight-lipped smile. "where's the kid?"
before jay could respond, a small figure peeked out from behind him—a little boy, no older than five, with round cheeks and big, curious eyes.
jay made a cute kid, you'll give him that. jay placed a hand on his head, his expression softening just slightly. "this is seojun. seojun, this is __. she's going to be taking care of you today."
he steps aside, allowing you into his home. you admire the interior, mouth opening in awe as you take off your shoes.
seojun blinked up at you before stepping forward, arms crossed in a stance far too judgmental for a five-year-old.
"do you know how to make pancakes?"
what happened to 'hello, how are you?'
you hesitated for a moment, looking up at jay in confusion only for him to give you a 'well, do you?' look. "uh... sure?"
seojun narrowed his eyes. "do you actually, or are you lying?" jay let out a soft chuckle, and you immediately shot him a glare.
"i can make pancakes," you insisted, then quickly added, "probably."
seojun sighed like a man three times his age, shaking his head. "we're doomed."
jay patted his son's head, lips twitching. "good luck," he says. he reaches for his trench coat and bag that were set neatly by the door on a cushioned bench.
your eyes widened. "wait, you're leaving?"
"that's usually how work goes."
"you could at least pretend to care about abandoning your child with a stranger."
jay gave you a pointed look. "you crashed into my car. this is me pretending. and i have 911 on speed dial." you opened your mouth to argue but stopped when you felt a tiny hand grip your wrist.
"you're wasting time," seojun said seriously, already pulling you toward the kitchen. "if you burn my breakfast, i'm calling the cops."
jay smirked as you shot him one last glare before getting dragged away by his tiny, opinionated son.
ten minutes later, and you were already regretting everything. you stumbled around the kitchen blindly, allowing the spawn of satan to boss you around.
"that's too much flour."
"are you sure you cracked that egg right?"
"why does the batter look like that?"
"are you even qualified to be in a kitchen?"
you turned slowly to seojun, who was sitting on the counter with his arms crossed, watching your every move with a level of scrutiny that made you nervous. truth be told, you had never made pancakes. you were going off memory of what your housemaids had put into the batter when you asked for pancakes one morning—happening to pay attention to them cooking.
"do you wanna make the pancakes?" you asked, raising a brow—getting tired of his attitude and critiques.
"no," he said simply. "i just don't want to die eating them."
you exhaled sharply. "listen here, you little—"
"language," seojun cut in, and you swore you heard jay's smug influence in that tone.
you were never having kids.
ever.
despite his relentless judgment, you somehow managed to make edible pancakes. you plated them with a dramatic flourish, sliding one in front of seojun before grabbing a plate for yourself. he stared at it for a long moment before finally taking a bite. you held your breath.
"...not bad," he muttered.
you gasped, pressing a hand to your chest dramatically. "was that a compliment?"
he rolled his eyes. "don't get used to it."
little shit.
you smirked, finally digging into your own breakfast, only to be interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.
jay was home. already?
he stepped into the kitchen, shrugging off his coat, his eyes scanning the scene in front of him. the not-burnt pancakes. seojun eating without complaint. and much to his disappointment—you, still alive.
his brow lifted in shock, "huh."
you glared at him, "what?"
jay leaned against the counter, arms crossed, "i figured you'd give up by now."
you scoffed. "sorry to disappoint."
seojun swallowed his bite, glancing between the two of you before shaking his head. "you guys fight too much. i thought adults were mature."
jay smirked. "we don't fight."
you scoffed. "we absolutely do."
"no, you just get mad when i say things that are true."
your eye twitched. "i literally hate you."
"see? fighting," seojun interrupts.
"oh my god."
seojun groaned, dropping his fork. "i liked it better when you were just burning pancakes."
jay chuckled, grabbing a coffee mug from the cabinet. "get used to it, kid."
you narrowed your eyes at him. if you weren't being forced into this, you would have walked out already.
but you were being forced into this.
which meant you had no choice but to deal with jay fucking park.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
babysitting, as you had quickly come to realize, was hell.
seojun was a tiny dictator with far too many opinions for a five-year-old. after breakfast, he interrogated you about your ability to tie shoelaces, your knowledge of dinosaurs, and whether or not you knew how to build a proper lego tower.
you did not, apparently.
"how do you not know how to build legos," he exclaims, his tiny hands waving in the air dramatically as he watches you go through a mental break down.
"well, i'm sorry. i didn't play with legos as a kid, i played with barbie's."
seojun twists his face in disgust, "barbie's? that's for girls."
you look at him with a deadpan expression, "i'm a girl."
"oh."
"what do you even do all day?" he asks, hands on his hips as he watched you struggle to connect two lego pieces. "i exist," you grumbled, scowling at the colorful bricks in front of you. "isn't that enough?"
seojun sighed. "you need better life skills."
"oh, i'm sorry, i didn't realize i was signing up for a performance review."
"i'm just saying," he shrugged, "i expected more from someone who's supposed to be an adult."
this kid.
"i'm only 23," you grumble to yourself. you exhaled sharply, deciding to ignore his judgment as you tried again to build something that wouldn't collapse within seconds.
but then—the sound of the front door opening.
jay was home. again.
you weren't sure why this surprised you. maybe because most ceos didn't have time to just pop in and out of their mansions all day. you begin to wonder, what was the point of having you babysit his son if he wasn't going to fuck off?
seojun perked up at the sound, immediately abandoning you and your lego struggles to run toward the living room. you followed, stopping just before the hallway, eyes landing on jay.
he was pulling off his coat, dressed in a fitted dress shirt and slacks, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms.
his oh so veiny and thick forearms.
not that you were looking.
except you were. damn it.
"why are you back?" you asked, forcing yourself to look anywhere else.
jay glanced at you, expression unreadable. "this is my house." answering you as if you were stupid and unable to comprehend basic knowledge.
"you know what i meant. don't you have stuff to do?" he walked past you, ruffling seojun's hair before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"had a meeting nearby," he said, twisting the cap off. "figured i'd check in."
"to make sure i haven't killed your son yet?"
jay smirked. "basically."
you rolled your eyes. "wow. the trust is overwhelming."
before jay could respond, seojun tugged at his sleeve.
"dad, she sucks at legos."
you gasped, glaring at the boy. "excuse me?"
jay chuckled, taking a sip of his water before glancing at you, "i can't say i'm surprised."
oh, that was it.
"you know what?" you huffed, hands on your hips. "if i suck so much, why don't you do it?"
jay's brow lifted. "you want me to build legos?"
"i want you to prove you're better," you challenged. "unless you're all talk, park."
then, to your absolute horror, he smirked. "fine," he said, setting his water down. "let's play."
oh.
you immediately regretted this.
twenty minutes later, and you had never felt so humiliated in your life.
"how the hell—" you gaped at the fully functional lego castle jay had built. "this is rigged."
jay leaned back, completely smug. "some of us have talent."
you glared. "some of us have jobs that should keep them too busy for this. old man."
seojun, sitting beside his dad, was thrilled.
"you suck at this," he declared.
"okay, you don't have to rub it in," you muttered, feeling sad that the older man had beat you.
jay stood, dusting off his hands. "guess that settles it. you suck, i don't. end of discussion."
you groaned. "i hate you."
jay smirked. "i know."
seojun clapped. "yay! dad wins!"
you slumped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. you were never agreeing to anything ever again. jay checked his watch. "i have another meeting. try not to lose to a five-year-old while i'm gone."
you didn't even have the energy to glare at him. but you did flip him off.
jay just laughed, disappearing out of your sight.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
babysitting seojun had somehow turned into babysitting jay's goddamn ego.
he was infuriating.
it had been a full week since you started watching seojun, and in that time, jay had developed an annoying habit of randomly showing up at home between meetings, offering you nothing but sarcasm, smugness, and unsolicited criticism.
"you can't cook."
"your attention span is worse than my son's."
"what do you actually contribute to society?"
you had held your tongue, barely, choosing to channel your rage into rolling your eyes so hard it was a miracle they hadn't gotten stuck.
but today? oh, today you were done playing nice.
"__, can we please go to the park?"
the boy had asked you nicely and hadn't bullied you all day, so you said yes as a reward. seojun had wanted to go to the park, so you took him. simple. no issues.
until jay called.
"where are you?" his voice came through the speaker, low and sharp.
did the fucker have a tracker on his kid or something?
"out," you answered, watching seojun run toward the swings. a small smile makes its way on your face as you watch him giggle and make himself comfortable on the swing. he waves his hands around, trying to catch your attention.
"push me, noona!" he squeals. you grin, making your way to seojun.
"out where?" you almost forget he was on the phone.
"does it matter?" you roll your eyes with a huff.
"jesus, __." his frustration crackled through the line. "you're with my kid. tell me where you are."
you sighed. "we're at the park five minutes from your house. calm down, dad of the year."
there was a pause."stay there. i'm coming."
he hung up before you could argue.
okay then...
you huffed, shoving your phone into your pocket.
"jay's being dramatic again," you muttered to yourself, giving the little boy a push as he squeals and giggles to himself.
"he does that a lot," seojun said wisely.
even his son agrees.
when jay arrived, he looked pissed. tight jaw. furrowed brows. stiff shoulders. his hair was tousled and his shirt was ruffled slightly as he stalked his way up to you.
hot.
not the point.
"you didn't tell me you were taking him out," he said, crossing his arms. his biceps bulged in his shirt, your mouth watering slightly before seojun's giggles break you out of your trance.
you mentally slap yourself for thirsting over the man. "because it wasn't a big deal," you shot back.
"it is when you're responsible for a five-year-old who isn't yours."
you groaned. "god, you're so controlling."
jay took a step closer. "and you're reckless."
"it's a park, not a battlefield."
"it's about responsibility, __." his voice dropped, tone edged with irritation. "but i wouldn't expect you to understand that."
you froze. "excuse me?"
jay tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "you heard me."
oh, hell no.
you stepped closer, chin lifting defiantly. "what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
his gaze flickered over your face before settling on your eyes. "it means you're a little spoiled brat who doesn't know how to take care of herself let alone another person."
you scoffed. "oh, i'm sorry, are you my father now?"
"god, no," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "i don't have the patience for that. but if i was, trust me, you'd be put in your place a long time ago."
you pause, your mind blanking at his words. "then stop acting like you know me."
jay let out a dry laugh. "oh, i know you just fine."
"bullshit."
his brows raised. "you think i don't see it? the way you pout when things don't go your way? how you expect everything to be handed to you? the way you act like the world owes you something?"
your hands clenched at your sides. "you don't know a damn thing about me."
fuck you. he did know you.
jay leaned in, his breath warm against your face. "i know enough."
your heartbeat spiked. not from anger. not entirely.
because up close, jay was all heat and intensity, his cologne clouding your senses, his voice a slow drag down your spine. your lips parted, a sharp retort on the tip of your tongue—but then he smirked.
that arrogant, knowing smirk.
and just like that, the spell broke.
you shoved him back, ignoring the way his chest was way too solid under your hands. "get over yourself, park." his expression darkens at your touch, the heat of your palms against his chest making his body twitch.
jay barely budged from your shove. but his smirk did fade.
his jaw tensed. his fingers curled into fists.
"watch yourself, __," he murmured, his voice darker than before. "you're playing a dangerous game."
so why did it feel like he wanted you to keep playing?
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
your entire body was on fire.
standing in jay's kitchen, chest heaving, hands curled into fists at your sides, you couldn't decide whether you wanted to slap him or...
no. not that.
for the past eight hours, you had been subjected to jay's controlling and condescending attitude. the constant comments, the smug little smirks, the way he seemed to take way too much pleasure in watching you struggle. you had tried, really tried, to keep your cool.
but now, standing in his sleek, modern kitchen, you were done.
"are you kidding me?" you scoffed, slamming the fridge shut. "you don't even have juice? what kind of psychopath only stocks sparkling water and black coffee?"
you were crashing out over some juice, for fucks sake.
jay barely looked up from his position, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. "a grown man who doesn't drink sugar like a child?"
your eyes narrowed. "oh, fuck off."
his lips twitched. "watch your mouth, princess."
princess. you hated when he called you that. hated the way it sent a pulse of heat through you, how it made your stomach twist and your thighs clench. you turned to glare at him. "why are you even here? don't you have some billionaire meeting to attend?"
he shrugged. "i cleared my schedule."
"why?"
jay's smirk deepened. "because i don't trust you alone in my house."
your jaw dropped. "excuse me? i think i've proved myself trust worthy in the last few weeks."
he pushed off the counter, stepping closer, his gaze lazy and unimpressed. "you're reckless. irresponsible. spoiled."
it was always the same few adjectives that he used to describe you, it was starting to grow old. your nails dug into your palms. "and you're a control freak." he hummed, pretending to consider. "maybe. but at least i don't go around crashing into people's cars and then whining when there are consequences."
oh, fuck him.
your nostrils flared. "it was a tiny scratch!"
jay arched a brow. "a tiny scratch that cost six figures."
you gritted your teeth. "maybe if you didn't drive a car worth more than some people's houses—"
"maybe if you learned how to drive—"
your breath came short, your heart pounding in your ears as you held yourself back from launching yourself onto jay and tackling him to the ground.
"you're so fucking full of yourself," you seethed, eyes locked on his, fury bubbling under your skin. "you walk around like you own the whole damn world." jay smirked, taking another step forward, forcing you to lift your head to keep glaring at him. "maybe because i do." you let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms which, unbeknownst to you, pushed up your chest under your tank top. "god, you're insufferable."
jay swallowed a groan, he held in everything in him whenever you'd show up in your tiny shirts and skirts. giving a clear opportunity for his gaze to wander down your form.
he wondered if you wore those things intentionally— if you’d bend down in front of him with purpose, and genuinely, he was starting to think so. all the times you'd brush up against him when wearing your little skirts — how you'd push up your chest when you'd cross your arms in frustration — it was slowly driving him insane.
his eyes flickered over your posture, his smirk deepening as he watched your chest rise and fall heavily. "and yet, you're still here."
"i didn’t have a choice!" you snapped. "if it were up to me, i wouldn't be within ten miles of you."
he hummed, looking entirely too amused. "funny, considering the way you're looking at me right now."
your jaw clenched as you glared at him, "and how am i looking at you exactly?" jay tilted his head, studying you like he knew your every thought, every single fucking move you made. like he could see right through you— the way your breath came a little quicker, the way your fists weren't just curled in anger but in restraint of jumping his bones.
his voice dropped, soft but teasing. "like you want me."
your stomach flipped violently.
"fuck you," you spat.
his smirk didn't waver. "say the word, princess."
your whole body burned.
you wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face, to shove him away, to yell at him until you couldn’t. but you also wanted to have him bend you over in the kitchen right then and now.
you sucked in a sharp breath, shaking your head. "this is ridiculous." jay took another step forward, erasing the last bit of space between you. his chest nearly brushed yours, his scent clean, musky, and undeniably him—flooding your senses.
thank god, seojun was asleep.
you refused to back down. refused to be the first to move. you maintain eye contact, your eyes flickering to his lips occasionally making your breath stutter.
his voice dropped lower, rough around the edges. "tell me to stop."
you should.
but you didn't.
because deep down, you knew this had been building for years. every heated glance, every sharp-tongued remark, every little touch that lasted a second too long—it had all been leading to this very moment.
you liked pushing him.
you weren't stupid, you knew there was an age gap—and that's what was holding him back.
12 years.
you were 23, and jay was 35.
so what?
it wasn't like he was some old man. if anything, he was in his prime—successful, powerful, hot as fuck. he carried himself like a man who had already conquered the world and wasn't pressed about proving anything to anyone.
except, apparently, to you.
because you made him nervous.
you saw it. the way his jaw clenched whenever you got too close, the way his eyes lingered on your legs when you crossed them or how they glanced down at your chest, the way he gripped his glass just a little tighter whenever you threw some bratty comment his way.
you knew he wanted you.
so why was he still fighting it? you knew the answer before you even asked yourself.
it was the age gap. he thought it was a big deal. he thought it mattered, and that pissed you off.
because to you, it wasn't about age. it was about power.
jay hated that he wanted you. hated that you weren't intimidated by him. hated that you saw right through his self-control. that you saw the way he stiffened when you brushed past him, saw the way his eyes darkened when you tested his patience.
you liked seeing him unravel.
he acted like he was above it, like he was some mature, responsible man who didn't get affected by a girl like you.
but you knew better.
because every time you got too close, every time you laughed at his scolding—you could see his self control break.
jay's fingers brushed against your waist, testing his limits.
your breath stuttered.
his smirk widened, "what's wrong?" he murmured. "cat got your tongue?"
"noona? dad?"
jay immediately pulls back as if your touch suddenly burned him. he looks at you in shock, as if you had made the first move.
little seojun had woken up from his nap, now stumbling into the kitchen half asleep. he immediately makes his way to you when he sees you cornered into the kitchens counters. "noona, i'm hungry," he mumbles before he's reaching his arms out indicating that he wants you to pick him up. you swallow harshly, leaning down to carry him before you shoot jay a sharp glare.
"how'd you sleep, jun?" you ask the boy, rubbing his back as he slowly regains his energy.
jay watches the scene with a heavy heart, seeing you and seojun get along was endearing. he never expected to see his son get close to another woman this way, let alone you—not after his wife.
"good. what were you and dad doing?"
you immediately whip your head around to stare at jay who looked equally as shocked.
"uhm."
"i was just helping, __ with her uh...hair. it got stuck in her necklace," jay fibbed, nervous that his son would catch onto his lies. he mentally curses himself for making his son so smart.
seojun just nods, still half asleep. "__, hair is long. pretty."
you smile down at seojun who has his head leaned against your chest. it was a rare occurrence that the little boy wasn't on your ass and teasing you, so you basked in his innocent silence.
"well, i'll be going now," jay coughs out lamely, turning around and walking out of the kitchen.
you roll your eyes, "what does junnie want to eat?"
"grilled cheese!"
"grilled cheese it is."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
the day had been long and draining, filled with the usual chaos of babysitting seojun.
"noona, you burnt this side."
"the waters too cold, you're going to turn me into a popsicle!"
"it's a shame that you're not improving on your lego skills."
you had spent most of your day absorbed in your own thoughts, determined to keep your distance from jay's constant, prickly presence. you didn't know what was going between the two of you, but the constant teasing and proximity was starting to affect you—and you did not like that. but nothing could have prepared you for the moment when you saw his car pull into the driveway again.
it was late in the afternoon, your mind occupied with tidying up the living room after seojun's afternoon nap when you heard footsteps approaching. you looked up just in time to see jay step through the front door—this time, accompanied by a woman whose presence sent an unfamiliar twist of jealousy and confusion through your chest.
she was striking: tall, elegantly dressed, her dark hair falling perfectly around her shoulders. for a split second, your mind raced with possibilities. was she just a friend? a casual companion? or something more? the answer was not provided—jay made no attempt to introduce her with any clarity. he simply walked past you with a polite nod, the woman silently following at his side—not acknowledging your presence.
the bitter taste of jealousy swarmed you, she was exactly what you'd think jay would go for in a woman. beautiful and sophisticated.
you forced a neutral expression as you went about your tasks, though inside you seethed. you couldn't help but notice the way jay's hand briefly brushed against hers, the soft laughter they exchanged in the hallway, as if they shared an intimacy that you weren't meant to be a part of. every detail stung, and you kept your face impassive, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you riled up.
the rest of the night passed in a haze of quiet tension. seojun remained asleep in his room, unaware of the storm brewing between you and jay. you moved through your duties with mechanical efficiency, silently cursing the timing of his unexpected guest. every time you caught a glimpse of jay glancing in her direction or sharing a private smile, a bitter mixture of jealousy and humiliation washed over you. you had no idea why you felt this way—jay was never yours, and you were only here to babysit his son. yet, every little detail of that moment lingered painfully in your mind.
you wondered if the woman was seojun's mother, they shared a resemblance of some kind. jay had never mentioned seojun's mother before, and you had never asked. all you knew was jay was a single parent and the mother of his child was simply not in the picture.
unable to bear the emotional turmoil, you decided to leave earlier than usual. you slipped out of the house quietly, leaving a brief note on the counter that simply read, "i'm done for today." the cool night air hit your face as you got into the car, your driver picking you up.
the next morning, you arrived at jay's house for your babysitting shift, your mood still dark and distant. as usual, jay greeted you at the door with his characteristic calm, yet something in his eyes held a note of confusion. "good morning, __," he said, his tone neutral. "i'm glad you're here."
oh, are you now?
you gave a curt nod and stepped inside without making eye contact. throughout the day, you kept your responses short and your distance intentional. jay tried several times to spark small talk, commenting on seojun's behavior, asking how your night was—but you offered nothing more than a hum and silent stubborn stares.
by late afternoon, the tension had grown almost unbearable. the usual spark that might have accompanied a playful banter was replaced by a wall of silence that left the air thick. finally, after seojun was settled in his room for a nap, jay approached you in the quiet of the kitchen.
the silence in the room was palpable as you stood there, hands on your hips, glaring at jay. his presence in the room felt overwhelming, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp, never leaving yours. you were getting under his skin, and you could feel it.
the problem was, you liked it.
"you've been so difficult all day," he muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. "what's your problem?"
you crossed your arms, taking an exaggerated step back, trying to assert some space between you and him. the way his eyes followed you made the hairs on your neck stand up, and you hated it. you hated the effect he had on you. you hated how badly you wanted him even though you knew you never could.
"my problem? you're the one being impossible! i didn't sign up for this. i'm not your babysitter," you snapped, fighting the urge to back down. "your son isn't even the issue. it's you."
actually, it's the woman you brought home yesterday.
he raised an eyebrow, a smug smirk forming on his lips. "me? you're the one acting like a spoiled brat. maybe you should learn some patience."
your fingers clenched at your sides. the way he spoke to you, like he was trying to control you, was beyond irritating. you took another step back, but jay didn't move. instead, he shifted, closing the distance between the two of you in one fluid motion, trapping you against the counter. his chest was a mere inch from yours, his presence suffocating. it humoured you that you two always ended up on the same position, jay closing in on you.
"i don't need a bratty attitude right now. i've had a long day, and the last thing i need is you making it worse," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the edge to it sent a shiver down your spine.
"long day? you've been home all day! what's even the point of me being here if you're going to be up my ass," you hiss.
"__, enough," his tone low as he warned you.
your heart raced as you stared up at him. "what are you going to do about it, huh?" you shot back, not wanting to back down. you didn't know what it was about the situation. maybe it was the tension, how he made you feel when he was this close, or maybe it was just that damned smirk on his face.
jay's eyes darkened, a spark of something dangerous in them. "i think you need a reminder of who's in charge here."
your breath hitched, and you could feel the heat building between you, but you refused to give in. you had enough, you didn't need to deal with him. you pushed past him, walking toward the kitchen, only to feel a firm grip on your arm—strong, unyielding.
"don't walk away from me," jay growled, spinning you around to face him. you were so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off of his body.
his grip on your arm was firm and rough, but not rough enough to where it hurt. his knuckles turned white as he tries to hold himself back from pushing you against the nearest wall and have you at his mercy.
you glared up at him, your face flushed from the proximity and the argument, but you knew you weren't going to let him win. "you don't control me, jay," you said, trying to keep the defiance in your voice.
he smirked again, stepping closer so your arm was planted against his chest, forcing you to tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze. the air between you crackled with uncontrollable tension, keeping you on your toes for god knows how long. "you keep acting like this, and i'll make sure you know exactly who's in charge."
your breath caught. something shifted in the way he looked at you—a warning, a promise, a dare. the line between anger and attraction was blurring, and you weren't sure where one ended and the other began.
before you could respond, he stepped forward, backing you against the kitchen counter, again. his hand found the counter beside your hip, trapping you in place. his gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, his jaw tense.
"look at me," he said, voice low, almost a rasp. "if you want to keep pushing my buttons, go ahead. but i'll make sure you regret it."
your heart raced in your chest, your breath shallow, but you kept the same defiant expression. "you think you can scare me, jay?"
he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "i don't need to scare you, __. i just need to show you what happens when you push too far."
you stood there, rooted to the spot — your body trembling under the weight of his words, the unbreakable tension that had emerged between you two. his fingers brushed against your arm, and for a moment, you could feel the undeniable pull. the fight between you was reaching a breaking point, and you didn't know which way it would go.
but for the first time, you weren't sure if you wanted to fight anymore.
the tension was unbearable, and in the silence that followed, jay's hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. your body responded before your mind could—his lips brushed against yours in the smallest of touches, enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. he pulled back just as quickly, a dangerous smirk on his lips. "you're lucky i don't have time for this right now," he muttered, his tone sharp, but there was something else beneath it—a flicker of something more intense. "but don't think for a second this is over."
with that, he stepped back, giving you space to breathe again. you were left standing there, caught between fury and something else you couldn't quite name. your heart was racing, your mind spinning, but you refused to let him see how much he affected you. you turned away, trying to steady your breath, but the tension between you two was getting overbearing. it wasn't over. you both knew that.
but one thing was for sure—you were both playing a dangerous game. and neither of you was ready to stop.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
the kitchen was quiet, the only sound being the slow, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. you leaned your head against your hand, staring off into space and you rethink all of your life decisions.
you had spent more time at jay's home than your own for the last month—not that you minded. as much as you hated to admit, seojun had grown on you. what you hated was how you didn't get to enjoy your summer how you originally wished, with your friends—getting drunk and high, maybe dosing on random shit at some frat party.
minho had been blowing up your phone for the last few weeks, asking, no—begging to hang out.
"__, why have you left me?" he groaned dramatically into your ear when you finally picked up his calls.
you rolled your eyes, "i told you i was going to be trapped, but no, you didn't want to take me seriously."
"i didn't think that you'd have any days off. can you ask for one day off, please? i miss my best friend," he pleas. if you could see him right now, he'd most definitely be flashing puppy dog eyes at you.
you sighed, "fine, i'll try to ask jay. but if he says no and i get scolded, i swear to god.” you'd ask jay if you could have the weekend off when he got back home.
you sat perched on one of the barstools, one knee drawn up, the other foot lazily swinging. your fingers traced the rim of a glass of water you hadn't even taken a sip from. seojun had gone to bed over an hour ago, his tiny body curled up under his blankets, blissfully unaware that his father still wasn't home.
you, on the other hand, were all too aware.
your phone sat face-up on the counter beside you, dark and undisturbed. no messages. no missed calls. nothing.
jay was late. really late.
your brows knitted together in irritation. you weren't sure why you cared so much—it wasn't your problem if he wanted to stay out all night. you weren't his wife, his girlfriend, or even someone he owed an explanation to. you were just the babysitter, forced into the role by your father's guilt. but something about his absence, about the way he hadn't even bothered to check in, made irritation simmer beneath your skin.
your knee bounced impatiently as you stared at the front door, waiting.
then, finally—the sound of keys jingling.
the door swung open, and jay stepped inside, looking unfairly put together for someone who had clearly spent the night out. his dark button-up was slightly unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. his black dress pants hung low on his hips, and his hair—slightly tousled like he'd run his fingers through it. he looked so good it made your stomach twist in frustration.
he barely even looked at you at first. instead, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he kicked off his shoes. it was only when he turned toward the kitchen that his eyes finally met yours.
he slowed to a stop.
you pretended not to notice the way his gaze flickered down, the momentary pause as his eyes dragged over your frame. you were only wearing a thin tank top and an old pair of shorts—the kind you only ever wore to bed, soft and barely covering your thighs. but the way jay's eyes darkened for just a split second, the way his jaw tensed, told you everything you needed to know.
he was flustered.
good.
he covered it quickly, masking whatever flicker of thoughts had just crossed his mind with that insufferable smirk of his.
"you're still up?" he asked, his voice as smooth as ever.
you rolled your eyes, shifting in your seat just enough to make the hem of your shorts ride up slightly. "obviously."
jay's gaze flickered downward again, just for a second. you caught it, and your lips twitched. "what, were you waiting for me?"
you scoffed, tilting your head. "don't flatter yourself. but since i'm responsible for your kid while you're off doing god knows what, yeah, i was expecting you to come home at a reasonable hour." jay exhaled sharply, finally stepping fully into the kitchen. he walked past you to the fridge, and you didn't miss the way his shoulders squared slightly—like he was trying to shake off whatever thoughts had just plagued his mind.
"seojun was fine, wasn't he?" he asked, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting the cap off.
"that's not the point," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. "the least you could do is let me know when you're coming home late. or is common courtesy too much to ask from a man like you?"
"plus, what's this sudden trust coming from? just a week ago you talked about how you had to monitor me because you didn't trust me to take care of seojun." jay let out a low chuckle, taking a slow sip of water before leaning back against the counter.
"jesus, you're dramatic," he muttered, shaking his head. "were you worried about me?" completely ignoring the other things you had said.
you clenched your jaw. "no," you lied smoothly. "i just don't appreciate being left in the dark. i'm not some live-in nanny, jay. if i'm stuck here, i at least deserve to know when you're coming home. look at the time, it's 1am, what time do i even go home?” his tongue ran over his bottom lip as he tilted his head slightly. "you're acting like i abandoned you here with seojun."
"you might as well have."
jay exhaled through his nose, clearly annoyed now. "you really don't let shit go, do you?" you smiled sweetly. "not when it's my time being wasted."
he shook his head, muttering something under his breath. then, after a beat, he glanced back up at you, his gaze sharp and unreadable."or maybe," he said, voice slower, "this isn't about me coming home late at all."
your stomach twisted, but you refused to let your expression falter. jay took a step closer, arms crossing over his chest. "maybe this is about something else." you scoffed. "like what?" his lips twitched like he knew something you didn't. "like the other night," he murmured. your brows furrowed, but he didn't give you time to respond.
"you're mad about the woman i brought home." your body tensed before you could stop it, and that slight reaction was all jay needed to confirm his suspicions. his smirk widened.
"i don't care who you bring home," you said quickly, hoping he wouldn't call you out on how unconvincing you sounded. "mm," jay hummed, unconvinced. "so if i told you that woman was mi-na, my sister, you wouldn't feel stupid for being jealous?"
you blinked. the irritation in your chest fizzled out for a moment, replaced by confusion. "your—your sister?" jay's grin widened. "yeah. my little sister. the one who came to visit for the weekend." your face burned. you had spent the past two days brooding over nothing.
but you refused to let him win.
"whatever," you muttered, crossing your arms again—the action causing your tits to spill out of from the top. "i wasn't jealous." his eyes immediately zero in on your chest, swallowing harshly before he lets out a chuckle—stepping closer. you could feel the warmth of his body now, his scent lingering in the space between you. "yeah?" he murmured, voice dipping. "then why are you blushing?"
"i'm not."
jay reached out, his fingers grazing the hem of your shorts before ghosting over your hip. his touch was barely there, but it made your breath hitch, "you sure?"
your heart pounded. your skin tingled where his fingers had been. but you refused to back down. "you're insufferable," you gritted out. jay smirked, his fingers teasing along your hip before pulling away just as quickly. "and yet, you're still here."
"forced to be here," you mutter under your breath, but jay heard it. your body was on fire, your skin still warm from where he had touched you. but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "i hate you," you muttered, turning away. jay only chuckled, voice rich with amusement. "whatever you say, princess."
you rolled your eyes at him, getting off of the barstool as you make your way to the living room to grab your belongings and change out of your clothes—preparing to go home. "wait. stay the night, it's late," he says coolly, his eyes racking down your frame as you bend down to grab your things.
your shorts had bunched over your ass, your legs on full display to his hungry eyes. jay mentally slaps himself for his gaze, but it continues to linger. you scoff, "and who's fault is that?" jay sighs, his brows furrowing, "quit being a brat. i'll get a room set up for you," and with that he walks away—setting his decision into stone.
as much as you wanted to argue, to remind him that you had your own place to go back to. jay had already walked off, leaving no room for discussion. "asshole," you muttered under your breath, but you still set your bag down on the couch with an annoyed sigh.
jay's house was big—too big for just him and seojun. it had that cold, modern look, with spotless marble floors and sleek furniture, the kind that felt more like a showroom than a home. you doubted he spent much time here outside of work and parenting, and somehow, that made it worse.
you waited a few minutes before deciding to move, begrudgingly heading toward the guest room he'd set up for you. it was next to his, with seojun just down the hall. as you stepped inside, you had to admit—he at least had good taste. the bed was huge, covered in soft gray sheets, and the room smelled faintly of clean linen.
but there was one problem.
the pillows sucked. they were flat and thin, one would think that someone as rich as jay had good quality pillows. with a dramatic huff, you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling before finally giving in to your annoyance. you deserved at least one decent pillow if you were being forced to stay here. without much thought, you swung your legs off the bed and padded down the hall toward jay's room. the door was slightly ajar, and you didn't bother knocking—if he was going to boss you around all night, you had no problem returning the favor.
"hey, do you have—"
you stopped dead in your tracks, mouth suddenly dry.
jay was standing near his dresser, shirtless, his toned back facing you as he ruffled a towel through his damp hair. he must have just taken a shower because his skin still glistened slightly, water droplets trailing down the sharp lines of his shoulders and back. your eyes dipped lower, taking in the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing just enough of the defined v-line that disappeared beneath the waistband. you should've looked away. you should've turned around and walked out like you hadn't just shamelessly checked him out.
but you didn't.
instead, you stood there, gripping the doorframe a little too hard as heat crept up your neck. jay finally noticed your presence, turning slightly to glance over his shoulder. his dark eyes flickered with amusement as he caught the way you quickly averted your gaze.
"something you need?" his voice was deeper, rougher, probably from exhaustion, but it still sent an embarrassing shiver down your spine. you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "i need another pillow." his lips twitched, and you hated the way his smirk made your stomach flip. "you barged into my room for a pillow?"
"it's not my fault the ones in the guest room suck," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. jay turned fully now, walking toward you with that lazy confidence that always managed to get under your skin. you took an instinctive step back, but he reached the doorway before you could fully escape, his tall frame now blocking your path.
"you always this demanding, or do you just save it for me?" he mused, tilting his head slightly as his eyes dragged over your face, down to the curve of your throat, lingering there a second too long. your breath caught, but you refused to let him have the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. "i wouldn't have to demand anything if you had done it right the first time."
jay let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "always got an attitude." you were about to snap back when you noticed his gaze flicker downward, his smirk faltering for just a second. it was quick, barely noticeable, but you caught it—the way his eyes lingered on your tank top. his eyes zeroed in on your chest, you had taken off your bra when you got into the room—your nipples poking out of the thin fabric.
you raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at your lips now. "something wrong?" jay's jaw ticked, and just like that, his expression was back to that unreadable mask. "go to bed, __." you should've listened. you should've taken the damn pillow he handed you and walked out. but the way his voice had dropped an octave, the way his fingers had brushed against yours when he passed it to you, sent a thrill through you that you weren't ready to let go of just yet.
so instead, you lingered.
"why? am i making you nervous?" you teased, tilting your head up at him, watching for any crack in his composure. jay let out a low breath, his hand gripping the doorframe as he leaned in just slightly. "trust me," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "if you were making me nervous, you'd know." the air between you was heavy, thick with something unspoken, something that neither of you were willing to address just yet.
but it was there. and it wasn't going anywhere.
jay finally took a step back, running a hand through his still-damp hair before nodding toward the hall. "go to bed, __." this time, you listened. but as you walked back to your room, pillow in hand, you couldn't ignore the way your skin still burned from his gaze. and from the way he had looked at you, you knew you weren't the only one feeling it.
it was just a matter of time before one of your cracked.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
the sizzle of bacon filled the kitchen as you flipped another pancake onto the growing stack. you had seriously improved on your cooking skills in the last month you had been taking care of seojun. the pancakes were round, crispy and the perfect shade of golden brown.
the morning light streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow over the countertops. you had woken up early, deciding to make seojun's favorite breakfast before he got up.
but, apparently, you weren't the only one awake.
a warm presence appeared behind you, and before you could react, a large hand reached out toward the plate. without looking, you smacked it away. "ow," jay muttered, shaking his hand. "what the hell?"
"it's for seojun." you barely spared him a glance as you poured more pancake batter into the pan. jay let out a low, sleepy sigh, ruffling his already messy hair. his dark strands fell over his forehead, making him look effortlessly good despite just rolling out of bed. dressed in sweatpants and a fitted t-shirt, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a lazy gaze.
curse him for looking so good.
"so i don't get breakfast?" he asked, a small pout gracing his face.
"nope," you said simply, reaching for another egg. he scoffed, pushing off the counter to stand beside you, crowding your space. "wow. what kind of babysitter are you? neglecting the person who actually pays you." you rolled your eyes. "oh, please. you don't pay me."
"you live in my house, eat my food, use my water." his voice was dripping with smugness. "sounds like payment to me." you narrowed your eyes at him. "your house? last i checked, my dad is the reason you even have half your company's assets."
jay just smirked, watching the way your brows furrowed in irritation. he loved getting under your skin. before you could throw another insult his way, you decided to change the subject. "anyway, i wanted to ask if i could have the weekend off. i wanna go out with my friends." jay, who had just taken a sip of his coffee, barely reacted. "fine."
you blinked. that was easy. too easy.
"minho's driving, so i don't have to worry about taking my car, that means no chance for accident. he's a pretty good driver, i actually learned how to drive from him," you added casually, turning back to the stove. jay froze. the silence was thick enough to make you glance over your shoulder. his expression had darkened. his grip on his coffee mug tightened.
"he?"
you frowned. "yeah. minho. my friend." jay set his mug down slowly, the sound of ceramic meeting marble eerily sharp. "no."
you turned fully to face him. "no?"
jay leaned against the counter, his posture too relaxed, too controlled. but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. "you're not going."
your brows shot up. "why not?" jay took another sip of his coffee, completely unfazed. "i need you here."
you scoffed. "for what?"
"seojun likes having you around."
"seojun will be fine for one weekend,” you retorted. jay tilted his head, pretending to think. "hmm. no, i don't think so."
you let out an exasperated laugh. "you literally just said i could go." jay shrugged. "i changed my mind."
"bullshit," you snapped. jay's eyes flickered with something dangerous. "watch your mouth."
you rolled your eyes. "you're just mad because minho is a guy." jay didn't react at first. then, slowly, he placed his coffee cup down and took a step closer to you.
got him.
you refused to back away. "you don't know what you're talking about," he said, voice low, controlled. "don't i?" you shot back, all of sudden feeling smug. "it's not my fault you can't stand the idea of me spending time with another man."
jay's jaw ticked. "this isn't about me." you let out a humorless laugh. "sure it isn't." he stepped even closer, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. the space between you was nonexistent, his body radiating heat.
"you think i care that much?" his voice was nearly a whisper now, but there was an edge to it. "you think i'm losing sleep over who you spend your time with?" you smirked. "seems like it."
you were right.
jay's fingers curled into fists at his sides. you could feel the restrained tension rolling off of him in waves. "you're not going," he said again, this time firmer. you crossed your arms. "and what if i do?"
jay exhaled through his nose, his patience running thin. "you won't," he said simply, his confidence making your skin prickle with irritation. "watch me," you challenged. jay's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk but wasn't amusement either. "you really wanna test me right now?" the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, but you refused to show weakness.
"maybe i do," you whispered. jay's gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest second before he clenched his jaw and stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "fine," he muttered, grabbing his coffee. "do whatever the hell you want."
you frowned. that was... unexpected.
he turned on his heel and walked toward the living room. but then, just as he reached the doorway, he glanced over his shoulder. "but don't come crawling back when you realize no one else can handle you like i do."
and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, heart pounding, fists clenched.
jay cursed at himself for wearing his feels on his sleeve. it felt wrong for him to feel the way he did about you. jay hated thinking about the numbers.
12 years. he was 12 years older than you. it shouldn't have mattered.
right?
jay had spent his whole life doing whatever the hell he wanted, without a single care for what people thought. he made decisions with confidence, stood by them, and never looked back. but with you? you made him hesitate.
you were 23. young, reckless, still figuring out life. and jay? he was 35, a father, a man who had seen and done everything—a man who should have known better. but fuck, he didn't feel old when he was around you.
you were a problem. not because you were immature. no, that wasn't it. you were sharp, stubborn as hell, constantly challenging him, constantly making him feel like he was the one being tested. but that was the problem.
you weren't a little girl with naive ideas about love and life. you were a grown woman, a dangerous woman, who looked at him like he was something worth teasing, something worth playing with.
and he let you. god, he let you.
you tested his patience like no one else. you talked back, you got under his skin, you pushed him to his limit. you walked around his house like you belonged there, like you belonged to him. in those tiny shorts and tight tops, throwing him looks you knew would drive him up the wall.
it wasn't just the way you looked. it was the way you knew. you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and jay hated himself for liking it. because he shouldn't want you.
he shouldn't want you the way he did—shouldn't think about you at night. he shouldn't imagine what it would be like to take what you clearly wanted to give him. he told himself, over and over, that it was just a stupid attraction. that it was nothing more than an itch he could ignore. he had to hold himself back from giving into your temptations every time he had you cornered, telling himself that it was wrong.
but his restraint was starting to fall weak.
but then you'd bite your lip and roll your eyes at him. or you'd throw some snarky remark his way, just to get a reaction. or worse—you'd act like he wasn't a threat at all, like he was just some older guy who didn't intimidate you in the slightest.
it fucking killed him. because the truth was, the age gap only mattered when it worked against him. when it made him hesitate. when it made him question himself.
but when you smiled at him like that—when you pushed his buttons and made him feel like a man, not a father, not a boss, not some guy who should be acting his age.
he didn't give a fuck about the numbers. and he surely didn't give a fuck about some boy who thought he could have you, when you belonged here—with him.
this wasn't over. not by a long shot.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
you had been looking forward to this all week.
a night out. no responsibilities. no bratty five-year-old testing your patience. no jay fucking park. the music was loud, the bass thrumming through your body as you nursed your drink. the club was packed, neon lights flickering against a sea of bodies, and for once, you could finally breathe.
"so," minho drawled, draping an arm over your shoulders, "you gonna tell me why you've been checking your phone like a girl waiting for a text from her sneaky link?" you rolled your eyes, shoving his arm off. "i have not been checking my phone."
minho gave you a knowing look, sipping his beer. "uh-huh. so you're just casually looking down at your bag every five minutes? right." you huffed, taking a sip of your cocktail instead of responding. but then, as if on cue, your phone buzzed again.
you peeked at the screen.
jay (23 missed calls).
you turned the phone face down. minho whistled. "jesus. who the hell is blowing you up like that?"
"no one important," you muttered. minho smirked. "sure. that's why you look like you're about to throw your phone across the club."
"it's just—" you sighed, running a hand through your hair. "it's jay. he thinks he owns my time." minho raised an eyebrow. "the rich, single-dad jay?"
"the asshole jay," you corrected.
"so why don't you answer?"
"because i'm off tonight," you said, exasperated. "and whatever he wants can wait." minho chuckled. "damn. he must be real desperate if he's calling you this much."
you were about to brush it off, but then another buzz. you groaned. "i swear to god, if this man does not—"
but then you read the message.
jay: seojun has a fever. it's bad. he keeps asking for you.
your stomach dropped. "shit," you muttered, grabbing your bag.
"it's not for him," you said quickly. "it's for seojun." minho sighed, grabbing your wrist before you could dart off. "you really think this isn't a setup?"
you hesitated.
minho's voice softened. "look, i don't know this dude. but if he's calling this much, and now suddenly the kid is sick on the one night you're not there? sounds sketchy as hell."
"minho," you sighed. "i don't have time for this." minho raised his hands in surrender. "fine, fine. but if he's lying, you owe me a drink."
"deal." you had practically sprinted out of the club, gotten into a cab, and rushed over in record time.
when you got to jay's house, you were pissed. the second you stepped inside, you knew something was off. the house was dimly lit, silent. too silent. you stormed down the hall toward seojun's room, but before you could even reach for the door the sound of clapping stops you.
slow, deliberate claps echoed behind you. you turned, and there he was. jay park, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, wearing a smirk that made your blood boil. "look who finally decided to show up."
your heart was still racing, the adrenaline from the panic you felt for seojun's health still surging through your veins. but now, it wasn't panic—it was anger. "what the hell is wrong with you?" his voice was low, rough, his grip firm around your wrist as he yanked you away from seojun's room and into his own—slamming the door shut behind you.
your heart pounded, still catching up to everything. rushing out of the party, speeding over here, the sickening worry that had settled in your gut the moment you saw his message about seojun. but now, standing here, looking at him, you soon realized. seojun wasn't sick.
the house was quiet, the lights dim. you peeked past jay, your brows furrowing. "where's seojun?"
"asleep," he said, his tone maddeningly casual. your eyes snapped back to his. "what?" jay didn't let go of your wrist, his grip tightening just slightly as he stepped closer. "he's asleep," he repeated, slower this time, like he was spelling it out for you.
the realization hit, sharp and cold. "you lied to me?" his jaw clenched. "what was i supposed to do, huh?" you yanked your arm back, glaring. "i don't know, maybe not fucking manipulate me?"
jay's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk, but held just enough arrogance to make you want to slap it off his face. "and if i didn't? you would've stayed out all night with him?" you exhaled sharply through your nose, shaking your head. "are you serious?" jay stepped forward, closing the space between you in an instant. your breath caught when your back hit the wall, his body mere inches from yours.
"tell me," he murmured, voice lower now, softer—but no less dangerous. "did he touch you?" your stomach flipped, heat rushing up your spine. "minho is my friend," you gritted out.
jay's hand lifted, fingers brushing against your chin. "did he touch you?" he asks again, his tone threatening. you turned your head away, jaw clenching. "you're insane." his fingers caught your chin, gently but firmly turning your face back to his. "i don't like repeating myself, sweetheart."
the pet name sent something electric through your veins. you hated that it did. "and i don't like being controlled," you shot back, voice sharp.
jay let out a quiet chuckle, dark and humorless. "funny, because you sure came running when i told you to." your face burned. you hated that he was right. his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, almost absentmindedly, like he was testing something. his eyes flickered down for a fraction of a second, then back up. you hated that even now, with how pissed you were, your body still reacted to him. the way he carried himself, the way he looked at you, the way his voice dipped just low enough to make your stomach flip. you shook your head, trying to push past him, but jay grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.
"let me go," you snapped. "or what?" his grip didn't tighten, but he didn't let go either. "you gonna run back to him?"
your brows furrowed. "what?" jay exhaled a short, humorless laugh. "minho," he bit out, like the name itself annoyed him. "you think i don't know where you were? at the club. surrounded by men. men that would eat you alive if you gave them the chance."
you glared. "you don't get to be mad about that." his eyes darkened. "the hell i don't." you tugged your arm back, finally breaking free. "you're not my fucking boyfriend, jay. i don't owe you anything."
his jaw ticked, but he didn't say anything. you scoffed. "god, this is ridiculous. i'm leaving." before you could take another step, jay moved. one second you were standing there, and the next, your back was against the wall, jay towering over you, his hands planted beside your head.
"you're not going anywhere," he murmured. your breath hitched. "you ran the second you thought seojun needed you," he said, voice lower now, rougher. "but what about when i need you, huh?"
your chest tightened. "you—" jay leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours. "you think i don't see it?" your pulse pounded against your skin. "see what?" you respond, almost breathless. his hand lifted, fingers brushing over your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his, "how bad you want me."
your breath stuttered. "you can play your little games all you want, sweetheart," jay murmured. "but we both know where you belong."
"you belong here," he murmured. "not out there, playing games with some guy who doesn't even know what to do with you." your breath hitched. "and you do?" jay didn't answer immediately. he just looked at you—really looked at you. his hand moved, sliding down the side of your neck, fingers grazing over your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath his touch.
then, he leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. "you have no idea."
your breath hitched. he was so close now, his cologne wrapping around you, his body heat pressing into yours. you swallowed hard. "you don't own me, jay."
his jaw ticked. "maybe not." his gaze dropped, trailing down your frame. you were still in your club outfit—tight dress, heels, your skin still warm from the alcohol. his tongue darted out, running over his bottom lip. "but you still came running, didn't you?"
your pulse pounded in your ears, attempting to move out of his hold only for him to pin you down with his hips. "you're not leaving," he murmured, voice dangerously low. you lifted your chin defiantly. "watch me."
jay exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "you're so fucking difficult."
"because i don't let you control me?" you shot back. he tilted his head. "because you pretend you don't like it."
your stomach flipped. jay leaned in, so close his breath ghosted over your cheek. "you want me to let you go?" he asked, his tone deceptively soft.
your throat bobbed. his fingers traced the inside of your wrist, featherlight, sending shivers up your arm. "say the word," he whispered. "say you don't like it when i tell you what to do."
your heart hammered against your ribs. but you didn't say anything.
because you didn't want to lie.
jay smirked. "thought so." his thumb brushed against your jaw, tilting your chin up. your lips were inches apart. you were still angry. furious. but that fury burned into something else, something hotter, something more dangerous. you should leave. you should shove him away.
but you didn't move. neither did he.
and in that moment, you both knew. you weren't going anywhere.
his eyes narrow down to your lips, something switches in his gaze—almost as if he had finally had enough.
"fuck this," he mutters lowkey before he's crashing his lips onto yours. your eyes widen in surprise, feeling his lips mold onto your own as you stand frozen in shock. you feel jay run his hands down your side, situating themselves on your ass as he squeezes your fleshy mounds. you gasp into his mouth, jay seizing the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth.
you moan when you feel jay grip your bare ass, lifting your short dress up to your hips—your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself up against him. "you think you can go see other men while you spend your days with me and my son?" he says against your lips, his grip on you getting rougher as pushes your dress up higher. you groan against him, "minho is my—" you try to explain only for a sharp smack to interrupt you.
he had spanked you.
your mouth drops open in shock, "what the f—" jay's hauling you up, your legs now wrapped around his waist as he pushes you down on his painfully hard cock. "i don't care who he is. you're not to be alone with another man," he says gruffly, dropping you down onto his bed.
you're flat against his soft linen sheets, legs now spread apart roughly by jay who stares down at you with a dark glint in his eyes. you glare up at him, breathless. "you can't tell me what to do." jay scoffs, leaning over you, one hand gripping your thigh as he spreads you open further. "the hell i can't," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "you think you can act like a brat, push me to my limit, and then run off to another man?"
"it's not like that," you argue, voice shaking, but he just smirks, eyes flickering down to where your dress is bunched up around your waist. "doesn't matter," he says, dragging a rough hand up your thigh. "you're mine. do you understand that?" you bite your lip, refusing to answer, which only makes jay angrier. he grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. "say it," he demands. "say you're mine."
you tilt your head defiantly. "make me." jay lets out a dark chuckle, his grip tightening. "oh, you don't want me to do that, sweetheart." he leans in, lips brushing against your ear. "because if i do, you won't be able to walk out of here, much less run to him."
"yeah right," you scoff, taking his threats lightly but your heart still stutters in your chest. his chest heaves up and down erratically, as if he was fighting himself from what he was about to do to you. his expression turning grim at his words yet his eyes sparking up in excitement. he finally had you where he wanted you, and not even god could pull him away.
he reaches to pull off his shirt, your mouth watering when you see his toned abdomen come into sight. jay took pride in his body, eating well and working out consistently to maintain himself throughout his years.
he grabs your hips roughly, a small squeal leaving your mouth when he drags you to the edge of the bed—your core connecting with his crotch. your legs wrap around his waist automatically while he kneels on the bed—looming over you. jay's hand grips your waist firmly as he stares down at you, his jaw tight with frustration. "you really don't listen, do you?"
you smirk up at him, still feeling defiant. "i listen just fine. i just don't take orders from you." his eyes darken at your words, and before you can react, his palm comes down sharply against your thigh. the sharp sting makes you yelp, your body jerking against the bed.
your mouth drops open in shock. "jay, what the—" another smack lands, this time on the curve of your ass, harder. your whole body tenses, the heat from his palm lingering. "you don't take orders from me?" jay scoffs, pushing your legs off of him before he's flipping you over and dragging you up so you're on your hands and knees—arching your back just the way he wants. "then why do you keep acting out just to get my attention?"
"i'm not—ah!" you gasp when another slap lands, harder than before, making your skin burn. jay leans over you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "minho doesn't get to see you like this," he growls, his hand smoothing over the spot he just punished, before giving you another harsh slap.
smack!
smack!
smack!
your fingers clutch at the sheets as you let out a broken whimper. "you belong to me," he murmurs, his voice thick with possession. "and i'm going to make sure you never forget that." he looks down at the sight in front of him, just how he had always wanted you to end up. bent over for him, battling submission as he forces you into it. your behind was a bright red, your panties doing a poor job at hiding your soaked core.
"fuck," jay groans, his palm smoothing over the burning skin of your ass before landing another sharp slap. you jolt, gasping, but his grip on your waist keeps you from moving an inch. "such a fucking brat. but you love this, don't you?" you bite your lip, refusing to answer, but jay sees right through you. his fingers trail up your spine, sending shivers down your back. "you fight me, you push me, but at the end of the day—" he lands another slap, harder this time, making you cry out. "—you always end up right here."
his voice dips lower, rough with something dangerous. something raw. "you don't even realize what you do to me, do you?" he mutters, his lips brushing against your temple as he pulls you up against his chest. his breath is hot against your ear. "watching you play house with me and seojun. cooking breakfast, tucking him into bed, walking around my home like you belong here." his hands tighten on your hips, and you can feel how hard he is, pressing against you with no shame.
his lips graze your jaw. "you love it too, don't you?"
"jay—"
"shh." his grip slides up, fingers curling around your throat—not tight, just enough to remind you who's in control. "you act like you don't, but i see the way you are with him. how soft you get when you think no one's watching. how you look at me when i come home late and you're the first thing i see standing in my kitchen." he chuckles darkly, dragging his lips down your neck. "you play the role so fucking well, baby. the perfect little wife—except you're still a goddamn brat." his confession makes your breath hitch. you can feel it now, how deep this runs for him. how much he's wanted this—wanted you.
"you think i don't see the way you tease me?" jay murmurs against your skin, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "walking around my house in those tiny fucking shorts, looking at me with those defiant little eyes, making me chase after you like some desperate idiot." his hand lands sharp smack on your thigh, and you let out a whimper before you can stop yourself. jay groans, gripping your throat even tighter. "fuck, i love that sound. love every little thing about you."
his words send a thrill through you, heat pooling low in your stomach. "i love this, baby," he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. "love your bratty little mouth. love putting you in your place. love how you fight me just so i can take you apart like this." he kisses the corner of your mouth, his grip firm, unrelenting. "and you love it too, don't you?" your breath is shaky, but you refuse to give in so easily. "i hate you," you whisper, even as your body melts against his. jay chuckles, dark and knowing. "you hate how much you love this."
"you're delusional."
his hands roam lower, his lips finding yours in a heated, possessive kiss. you're drowning in him, in the fire between you. and as much as you want to fight it, you already know—jay park always gets what he wants. and right now, what he wants is you. he grips your arms, a small whine escaping your mouth when he manhandles them behind you. he pushes you back down, "oh, princess. you're going to eat your own words."
you feel something wrap around your wrists, your eyes widening when you realize what he was doing. he had taken off his belt, wrapping the leather material around your arms to stop you from moving around. everything happens so quick, your pushed flat against your back with jay now face to face with your throbbing core. his fingers dug into the plush of your thigh, holding them back from closing. "look at you," he coos softly, looking at giant wet patch on your panties as you squirm in shame.
"fuck you," you spit weakly. he smirks, "we'll get to that, princess. we have all night." you mewl when you feel him lick up your covered slit, his tongue tracing up your cunt as he digs into your thighs. you buck your hips up, jay's laughter making you stop your actions. "so fucking needy. you must be so used to getting what you want, hm? my spoiled bratty princess," he hums.
you huff, "do it." he raises his eyebrows in faux confusion, "do what?"
you rolls your eyes, "take them off and eat my pussy."
his smug expression drops at your bratty words, "seems like you haven't learned anything from earlier." you open your mouth to retort only for a sharp pain between your legs to stop you. you squeal out in surprise, jay landed another strong smack to your centre. "it's okay, by the end of this i'll have you begging and crying. then you'll finally behave yourself."
your body jolts at the sharp sting between your legs, a breathy gasp slipping past your lips before you can stop it. jay tilts his head, watching you with dark amusement, his hands never loosening their grip on your thighs. "there she is," he murmurs, fingers tracing slow, teasing circles along your skin. "i was starting to think you'd never stop running your mouth." your wrists pull against the restraint of his belt, but it's useless—he's tied you up too well. the frustration bubbles in your chest, mixing with the unbearable heat pooling in your stomach.
"you're such an ass," you hiss, glaring up at him. jay only smirks, completely unfazed. "and yet, you're still here. still dripping for me." his fingers ghost over the soaked fabric of your panties, pressing down just enough to make you whimper. you try to twist away from his touch, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but jay isn't having it. he grips your hips firmly, keeping you in place, his strength making it clear that resistance is pointless.
"you keep fighting me like you have a choice," he scoffs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "but we both know how this ends, don't we, princess?" your breathing is ragged, your body betraying you as he drags his lips higher. your skin burns where he touches, and the worst part is—you want more. but you refuse to admit it.
"you're crazy," you bite out, even as your body shudders at his touch. jay chuckles, his breath hot against your core. "am i?" his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down at an agonizing pace. "because from where i'm sitting, you're the one desperate for me." the flimsy fabric landing on the floor as he situates himself right front of your leaking cunt. he pauses, eyes locking onto yours with a wicked glint. "and the best part? you know i'm right."
your lips part, a sharp retort on the tip of your tongue—but before you can say anything, jay moves, leaving you utterly speechless. his tongue comes down to run over your bare slit, moaning at the taste before he's yanking you down by your hips—nose buried into your cunt, you squeak at the sensation, his tongue gliding up at down your clenching hole as his nose nudges your clit with each movement.
"f-fuck, jay," you pant softly, your body writhing as you fight against his belt. jay grins against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds your legs back from completely suffocating him. his tongue moves slowly and skillfully, circling your clit before making its way down to your sopping hole.
he moans at your taste, not afraid of getting messy with his movements. he peers up, watching your head lull back as he begins to lick figure 8s on your clit repeatedly. your thighs tremble, your back arching off the bed as jay's tongue flicks over your swollen clit with torturous precision.
every swipe sends sparks shooting through your veins, your breath coming in ragged gasps. you tug uselessly against the belt binding your wrists, the leather only tightening the more you struggle. you whine at the almost painful sensation of being bound, his leather belt now digging into your wrists—slowly cutting of circulation. jay hums against your soaking cunt, the vibrations making you whimper. his grip on your thighs is ironclad, refusing to let you squirm away—not that you really wanted to.
you gasp when you feel his digits intrude your walls, a load moan escaping you before you could even hold yourself back. "fuck look at you, princess. you're sucking my fingers in so well," he groans, watching your cunt greedily take in his digits as he begins to roughly pound them in.
your mouth stays open in an 'o' shape as you move your hips in hopes of catching more of what he was offering. jay catches on to your movements, clicking his tongue as he looks at you smugly. "so desperate hm, princess? look at you, so fucking filthy." you whine at his words, "go fuck yours—" jay removes his fingers from your sopping cunt and smacks them down on your clit. "—oh fuck!" you sob out.
"you're going to learn to control that mouth, __. and here i was, being so gentle and kind with you. but clearly, bratty girls like you don't deserve such treatment," he tsks while teasingly rubbing your clit in small firm circles with his thumb. you scrounge your mind for an insult to throw at him before his actions take your breath.
literally.
jay moves quickly, suddenly his hand is wrapped around your throat and he's looking over your shaking and twitching body. he moves behind you, letting you lean against his strong chest as he spreads your thighs wide open—hooking his legs with your own, leaving you unable to squirm.
he clamps down his hand firmly between your legs, cupping your cunt as you look up at him dumbfounded.
he gives you no answer, looking down at you with what you could only assume was pure deep dark desire. you moan out in pain, the stretch of his fingers making your eyes rolls back as jay leaves you no time to adjust. his begins to fuck three of his fingers into your cunt, his grip on your throat tightening.
"who knew you took things in you so well, hm? look at you, gushing all over my fingers," he murmurs darkly into your ear. his pace was ruthless, his palm smacking your clit with each thrust. you're a moaning mess, crying out everytime jay pushes into your gummy walls. jay had enough of the noise, moving his hand from your neck to stuff two fingers down your throat—gagging you.
you choke against his digits, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. your makeup was smeared, your mascara running down your cheeks and your lipstick smudged around your mouth—yet jay thought you looked beautiful. he could see tears run down your cheeks and saliva running down his fingers and you struggled to contain yourself. "you close, princess? i can feel you clenching around me," he grins, curling his fingers in you in a 'come here' motion.
"m'close," you try to say only for it to come out as muffled sobs due to his fingers down your throat. he smirks against your skin, "so fucking greedy. come on princess, cum for me. cum all over my fingers," he murmurs in your ear, your eyes rolling back as you feel your body violently convulse at your high. jay looks at you in surprise.
you had squirted.
"holy shit, princess." he removes his fingers from your mouth, finally letting your aching jaw rest—his thumb still rubbing at your clit, helping you ride out your high. "do you know what you just did?" he asks, his hands grabbing at your waist before hes pulling off your dress completely. you lay against him, unable to comprehend anything after you came. when you don't respond he continues, "you just squirted, princess. that's not going to waste."
he moves you away from his chest, letting you lay back against the bed before he's between your parted thighs again. he doesn't give you a chance to recover before his tongue is licking up your slit, his hands gripping the plush of your thighs—holding them back from closing in on his head. "you taste so fucking good," he growls, lifting his head just enough to watch your face twist in painful pleasure. "all that attitude, and here you are, shaking for me like a good little slut." you slowly regain your sense of thought, still hazy from before—but not enough to stop you from acting out.
you bite your lip, glaring down at him through hooded and now swollen eyes. "fuck—you," you pant, but your words lose all their venom when he dips his tongue back inside you, curling just right against that sweet spot that makes your toes curl. jay chuckles darkly, the sound sending another jolt of heat straight to your core. "still talking shit?" he pulls back, smirking at the way your hips chase his mouth. "maybe i should just leave you here, all tied up and desperate. let you think about how badly you need me."
your stomach clenches at the thought, but you force yourself to let out a weak scoff. "like you could walk away." jay's eyes darken, his fingers trailing up to circle your clit, pressing just enough to make you gasp. "try me."
you don't get the chance to respond. in one fluid motion, jay flips you onto your stomach. his weight pins you down, his hard clothed cock pressing into the curve of your ass.
"you don't get to call the shots here," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "not until i say you've earned it." you whine as he grinds against you, the friction maddening. "jay—"
"what?" his hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back. "use your words, princess. tell me what you want." you swallow hard, pride and desire warring inside you. but the way his fingers tighten in your hair, the way his cock pulses against your ass—it's too much.
"i want—fuck—i want you to fuck me," you finally admit, your voice shaking. "i'll fuck you when you stop being a brat and admit it."
you whine, shaking your head in defiance. you had made it this far without admitting your feelings, what's a bit longer?
"say it."
you shake your head furiously, breath shaky as you glare up at him. "no." jay clicks his tongue, his grip on your waist tightening. "wrong answer, princess." you whimper, body trembling, but you still refuse to give in. you won't let him win—not like this. jay leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "you're so fucking stubborn. but you'll say it. we both know you will." your fingers curl into the sheets, your pride the only thing keeping you from giving him what he wants.
"fuck you," you grit out.
jay only laughs, shaking his head. "not until you tell me the truth." you squeeze your eyes shut, refusing to look at him. you can't. not when he's so close, not when his voice drips with that dangerous confidence that makes your heart race. he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "look at me." you do, reluctantly, your body burning under the weight of his stare.
his eyes darken. "you love this. you love me." you inhale sharply. "i—"
"say it," he commands. "say you love me, or you don't get my cock." your pride wars with your need, but jay is relentless. he watches you like he already knows he's won. you try to hold out, but his smirk deepens as he pulls away slightly, putting even more distance between you. your chest rises and falls rapidly. you can't take it anymore.
"i—" you hesitate, jaw clenching. jay waits, patient but smug. you hate him for this. you hate him for making you want him so badly.
"i love you," you finally gasp out, the words falling from your lips like a confession you've been holding in for too long. jay exhales, his smirk turning into something deeper, something real. "that's my girl," he murmurs, pressing a slow, possessive kiss to your lips.
you barely have time to recover before he pulls back, eyes locking onto yours with a dark promise. "now," he breathes, "let me show you just how much i love you too." in one swift motion, he flips you back over, his hands sliding under your thighs to hook your legs over his shoulders. he leans down, his lips brushing yours, so close you can taste yourself on his tongue.
"good girls get what they want," he murmurs, his hands pulling down his boxers. and then he's pushing inside you in one sharp thrust, stretching you, filling you, stealing the breath from your lungs. your back arches off the bed, a broken moan tearing from your throat as jay bottoms out inside you, his grip bruising on your hips. you cry out in pain and pleasure, the stretch of his cock making you dizzy as your walls flutter around him—struggling to adjust.
"mine," he growls, his voice rough with possession. and as he starts to move, hard and deep, you realize—you always have been. the years of back and fourth bickering, dirty glares and snarky comments. all of that, had led to this moment.
jay's hips snap forward, each brutal thrust driving the air from your lungs. his cock is relentless, pistoning into your slick cunt with a rhythm that leaves no inch of you untouched. the slap of skin against skin echoes in the room, mingling with your desperate whimpers as he fucks you into the mattress. your bound hands twist against the belt, the leather biting into your wrists, but the burn only feeds the fire coursing through you. jay's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, his grip possessive, claiming—like he wants to leave bruises. like he wants you to remember this tomorrow when you try to walk away like you always do.
"f-fuck, jay—" his name spills from your lips, ragged and broken, as he drags his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in, the tip hitting that perfect spot deep inside that makes your vision blur. jay feels you clench around him, grunting as he fucks into you—making sure there was no inch of you that he hadn't touched.
one of his hands come down to grab at your tit, pinching your nipple almost painfully when you begin to close your eyes—making you whine. he leans down, his lips brushing yours in a mockery of tenderness. "what, baby? gonna come already?" his voice is rough, dripping with amusement. "you're so fucking tight around me. bet you're close, aren't you?"
you squeeze around him involuntarily, your walls fluttering as pleasure coils tighter in your belly. you don't answer, you can't. he's angling his hips just right, grinding against that swollen spot inside you with every thrust—your orgasm is right there, hovering just out of reach. jay growls, sensing it, and suddenly his thumb is on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that make your whole body jerk.
"come on," he demands, his breath hot against your ear. "cum on my cock like the greedy little spoiled slut you are." you shatter. your back arches off the bed, a scream tearing from your throat as pleasure explodes through you, white-hot and consuming. your cunt clamps down around jay's cock, milking him as waves of ecstasy crash over you. he doesn't stop.
jay fucks you through it, his thrusts turning erratic as he chases his own release. his fingers dig harder into your hips, the pain of your high coursing through you. "gonna fill you up," he snarls, his voice thick with need. "gonna pump you so fucking full of me, you'll drip with it." the filthy promise sends another shiver through you, your oversensitive body trembling beneath his. and then he's burying himself deep, his cock twitching as he spills inside you with a groan, his hips grinding against yours to make sure every last drop is where it belongs.
you pant beneath him, boneless and wrecked, the only sound in the room the ragged pull of your breaths. jay finally pulls out, his cum already leaking from your well-used cunt. he leans down, his lips brushing yours in a slow, filthy kiss. "now," he murmurs, his thumb swiping through the mess between your thighs before pushing it past your lips, "tell me again how you feel about me."
you suck his thumb clean, your eyes locked with his. and this time, you don't bother lying.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
you wake up to the warm morning light slipping past the curtains, painting soft lines across jay's sheets. your body aches, sore in places you didn't even know could ache. your throat dry from the sounds he pulled out of you the night before.
you blink slowly, adjusting to the light. the bed is cold beside you. jay is gone. you groan softly as you shift, the soreness between your thighs making it nearly impossible to move without wincing. "jesus christ," you mutter under your breath, rolling onto your side. your fingers instinctively brush the soft cotton clinging to your skin. it's a plain white t-shirt, oversized and hanging low on your frame. his scent clings to it, to you.
your legs dangle over the side of the bed, and you wince as you slowly stand. every step is careful, every movement a reminder of what he did to you—what you let him do. you spot your phone on the nightstand and grab it with shaky fingers. it lights up immediately.
minho (12 missed calls)
dad (8 messages)
dad (4 missed calls)
you sigh, heart sinking a little. it all comes rushing back—what you left behind last night. the party. the lie. jay's anger. and now... the aftermath. you pull your hair up loosely and make your way downstairs, your bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor. the house is eerily quiet. no tv, no kitchen sounds, no jay.
your heart sinks in your chest. your eyes dart around as you descend down the flight of stairs—no trace of him. the living room is spotless, the kitchen untouched. not even a half-drunk cup of coffee left behind.
your heart skips for a second.
did he leave?
you glance toward the hallway and peek your head into seojun's room. the little boy is still curled up under his blankets, breathing soft and steady. safe. peaceful. you step back out and stand in the middle of the quiet house, unsure of what to do with yourself. "where the hell did you go, jay..." you mutter, fingers tightening around your phone.
your thumb hovers over minho's name, but you can't bring yourself to call him. not yet. not when your body still carries evidence of last night. not when you still smell like jay. the silence around you is loud—too loud. and the way your mind spins with questions only makes it worse.
what did last night mean?
why did he leave you alone like this?
is he even coming back?
you let out a soft sigh and head toward the kitchen, aimlessly grabbing a glass of water just to keep your hands busy. your reflection catches in the oven door—jay's shirt draped over your frame, legs bare, lips still a little swollen. you noticed that your face was clean and bare, jay had taken off your makeup last night.
well, whatever was left of it.
you look like you belong here. but for the first time. you're not sure if that's a good thing.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
the sound of the front door unlocking makes you flinch slightly as you're crouched down in the living room, gathering all of seojun's toys. jay walks in like he didn't flip your world upside down last night.
"hey," he says casually, shrugging off his coat and kicking off his shoes. his voice is easy—too easy. like nothing happened. like he didn't press every button you had until you broke, until you confessed things you'd been biting your tongue about for weeks. "morning," you mutter without looking up, trying to keep your expression neutral as you tug the lid of his toy basket open.
jay steps into the living room, eyes glancing over the scene— the living room now spotless as you sit on the floor with your legs folded awkwardly under you like you hadn't spent the entire night being ruined by the man. the same man who was now acting like your confession wasn't still echoing in his ears. your phone buzzes again beside you on the couch. minho's name flashes across the screen for the sixth time that morning. you finally texted him.
minho: hey u get there ok?
minho: heeelllloooo
minho: istg if ur getting dicked down rn
minho: U SO R
minho: OMGGG
minho: u slut
minho: call me after or ill acc burn ur house down
minho: u so owe me a drink
you: i'll call u later ..
minho: U BETTERR
your dad had also called twice. he was worried, demanding to know where you'd disappeared last night. you told him the lie you'd practiced in your head: i stayed over at minho's. i'm at work now.
jay gives you a glance then, brief and unreadable. "he still asleep?" he asks, nodding toward the stairs. you nod once, "should be up soon."
jay hums. he runs a hand through his hair, moving past you both to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. no acknowledgment. not of your night together. not of your confessions. not even the smallest smirk or sly comment he's usually so quick to throw your way. it stings more than you thought it would.
"so this is just nothing?" you say quietly. you keep your voice low, tense. "you're really going to pretend nothing happened?" jay doesn't turn around. he twists the cap off the bottle, takes a sip. "didn't say that."
"then what are you doing?" you snap, standing. you're still in his clothes—his t-shirt drowning your frame and his sweatpants tied loose around your waist. "you spent all night dragging it out of me. making me say things i wasn't ready to admit, and now what? you ignore me?" jay finally turns, his jaw set, expression unreadable. "what did you expect?" he says flatly. "you think we can just pretend like that shit doesn't complicate everything?"
you blink, stung. "you complicated it. not me. you crossed the boundaries. not me." he takes a step toward you. "you think i didn't feel it too?" he snaps. "you think this is easy for me?"
"you sure act like it is." jay's breathing hard now, his eyes dark as they search your face. "i'm trying not to make things worse. you said what you said, and yeah, i heard you. but i don't know what the hell to do with it yet. it's not like i didn't tell you how i felt."
your throat feels tight, heart racing with hurt and frustration. "then maybe you shouldn't have forced it out of me." he doesn't respond right away. just stares, like he's trying to figure out whether to argue or admit you're right. you glance away, swallowing hard. "i meant what i said," you whisper, "and i hate that i did."
jay steps closer then, enough that you can feel the heat from his body. he's silent, watching you, torn between his own emotions. "...i didn't hate hearing it," he finally says, voice lower, softer. "but i can't pretend i know what to do with it either." you don't say anything, just cross your arms tighter over your chest.
it's quiet for a long moment. then jay murmurs, "but if it means anything... i don't want you with anyone else." your gaze snaps to his. "last night wasn't just sex," he says, voice rough. "and you damn well know it." you swallow around the lump in your throat, arms still crossed tight like it'll protect you from how exposed you feel. like it'll keep your heart from beating too loud.
"so... what now?" you ask, your voice quieter than before. more hesitant. "what are we supposed to do?" jay's eyes drop, his thumb tapping against the water bottle in his hand. he looks like he wants to pace but forces himself to stay still. "i don't know," he admits. "i've been trying to figure that out since last night."
you frown. "what's stopping you?" he exhales sharply. "everything. you're 23, i'm 35. your dad would kill me if he knew what happened last night." he glances up at you. "you were just a kid when i met you."
you flinch at that. "i'm not a kid now." "i know," he says quickly, his jaw clenching. "believe me, i know. last night proved that more than anything." you look away, chewing the inside of your cheek. "you think this is just a phase? that i'll grow out of it?" jay steps closer, his voice low. "no. i think that's what scares me the most."
you meet his gaze again, your heart thudding. "...was it ever just me?" you ask, needing to know, needing to hear it. "or am i just filling a space someone else left behind?" his expression hardens slightly, like the question caught him off guard.
"is this about her?" you push, barely whispering. "seojun's mom?" jay's face shifts, something bitter and tired flashing through his features. he looks away, jaw tight. "she left the second he was born." your eyes widen in shock, "what?"
"she didn't want to be a mom," he says flatly. "we were never in love. it was a mistake. she got pregnant, and i told her i'd raise him. she agreed and walked out of the hospital with a suitcase and a plane ticket." you stare at him, stunned. he's never talked about her. never even hinted.
"so it's just been you," you murmur. he nods. "just me. for the last 5 years." you don't know what to say. you feel your chest ache for him—for the boy upstairs, for the man who's been carrying the weight of parenthood alone, pretending like it never crushed him.
"and then you," he says, voice quieter now. "you crash into my life, literally. and then suddenly you're here, and seojun loves you, and i—" he cuts himself off. you blink. "and you...?"
his eyes lock with yours, expression unreadable as he forces himself to swallow his words, "—and i don't know how to let myself want something that feels like it'll ruin everything." you step forward this time, closing the space between you. "what if it doesn't?" jay looks at you like he wants to believe it. like the hope hurts more than the fear. you reach up slowly, resting your hand against his chest. his heart's pounding under your palm. "you don't have to protect me from this," you whisper. "just... tell me what you want."
he looks at you, his voice hoarse. "i want you." you feel it in the way he says it—like it's been sitting on his tongue for days, weeks, maybe years. like it's the one thing he's been trying not to say. your breath catches. "then why are you acting like last night never happened?"
jay exhales, finally turning away from you—unable to look you in the eye. he runs a hand through his hair and mutters, "because i don't know how to be around you without wanting more." you bite the inside of your cheek, heart pounding. "you think i don't want more too?" his back is still to you, shoulders tense. "you don't understand what more looks like with me. it's not just cute dates and taking seojun to the park. it's complicated. it's messy."
you step toward him, slowly. "i'm not scared of messy." he finally turns around, eyes meeting yours again—and this time, it's all there. the frustration. the want. the guilt. the hunger. "i forced you to say it last night," he says quietly. "i made you admit you loved me just so i could hear it. do you know how fucked up that is?"
your chest tightens. "maybe. but it doesn't make it a lie." jay doesn't say anything. his eyes just search your face like he's trying to make sense of you. the silence stretches, so loud it feels like it might shatter between you when suddenly— "daddy? noona?" a sleepy voice calls from the stairs.
you both snap your heads toward the sound. seojun stands there in his pajamas, hair sticking up in every direction, clutching his stuffed lion. jay's face softens instantly. "hey, buddy."
you blink away the emotions clogging your throat, quickly moving toward the stairs. "come on," you say gently, crouching down to his level. "you want breakfast?"
he nods, rubbing his eyes. "pancakes." you laugh softly. "you always want pancakes."
as you lead him into the kitchen, you feel jay's eyes on you the whole time. there's so much unsaid between you both, but right now, you fall into routine—mixing batter, pouring it onto the hot pan, seojun sitting on the counter watching you with half-lidded eyes. it looked like a scene out of a movie, jay admires your relationship with his son based one the circumstances the two of you had bonded. seojun loves you, and as complicated as his feelings make things—jay loves you too.
jay joins eventually, helping slice fruit, moving around you like muscle memory. and then he brushes past you to grab a plate, and his hand lingers a second too long on your waist. your breath hitches.
you don't look at him. but you feel it.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
the house was finally quiet. seojun had gone down for his nap without a fuss, leaving you sprawled across the couch in jay's living room, phone pressed to your ear.
"okay, wait—start from the beginning," minho's voice crackled through your speaker. "did he take his shirt off or did you rip it off?" you rolled your eyes with a laugh. "neither! i wasn't some feral animal."
"please, you definitely were," he teased. "i know that tone in your voice. you're trying to act like it wasn't the hottest night of your life."
"shut up," you said, biting back a smile. "you're so annoying."
"you moaned his name, didn't you? tell me you did." he then pauses, clearing his throat as he prepares his best girly impression, "oh jay! jay right there." you roll your eyes, letting out a small laugh before glancing down at the little scratch marks on your thighs. "...maybe."
minho gasped like he'd just won the lottery. "i knew it! i need the full play-by-play. what was he like? slow and sensual? aggressive? did he say something like—'you're mine now, princess'?" he deepened his voice dramatically. you snorted. "why are you like this?"
"i live through your drama. and honestly? the hot single-dad boss fantasy? ten out of ten." you rolled your eyes again, but the smile stayed on your face. "you're insane."
"no, i'm just invested. i mean, your dad's going to lose his mind when he finds out you're hooking up with his business partner. this is better than any k-drama." you were mid-laugh when a throat cleared from the doorway.
you froze. you turned your head slowly to find jay standing there—back early from his meeting, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes fixed on you with that unreadable expression he wore when he was annoyed... or worse, jealous. your heart dropped.
"i gotta go," you mumbled into the phone.
"why? what's—" you hung up before minho could finish. jay didn't say anything at first. he walked in slowly, setting his keys on the counter. his gaze stayed on you the entire time."minho, huh?" he said finally, his voice casual—but the edge was there, sharp and unmistakable. you shifted on the couch. "he's just a friend. you know that."
"yeah, i know," he said, but he didn't sound convinced. "didn't realize your 'just a friend' needed all the juicy details about what happens in my bed." you flushed. "you were eavesdropping?"
"i walked into my own house," he said coolly, raising an eyebrow. "and caught you giggling about our sex life." "we weren't giggling,” you murmur, embarrassed. "sure," he said, stepping closer. "so you didn't tell him how good i made you feel? how you squirted all over the bed? how loud you got when i—"
"okay, stop," you cut in, face burning. "you're being jealous over nothing." he tilted his head. "maybe. or maybe i just don't like the idea of some boy thinking he's got a chance with you." you blinked in confusion, "minho doesn't—"
"he does," jay interrupted, stepping even closer. you crossed your arms, not backing down, "and what exactly are we, jay? we haven't talked about last night properly. what we did, what we are. so you suddenly get to be possessive now?" his jaw flexed. "i don't know."
that caught you off guard. "i don't know," he repeated, softer now. "i didn't plan for this to happen. i didn't plan for you. but now you're in my house, you're in my bed, and my son asks for you before he asks for me." you blinked, heart stuttering.
"i think about what this means," he said. "what your dad would say. how he'd probably try to kill me." you cracked a smile. "he would. slowly and painfully." jay didn't smile back, not finding amusement in having to deal with your father, "and what seojun would think... if he knew. if he understood."
your expression sobered. "i don't want to confuse him," jay said quietly. "he's already had to grow up without a real mother. your chest ached.
"so it's always been just me and him," jay continued. "and now... there's you." you looked at him, your voice gentle. "do you want me to be there?" his eyes met yours, something raw in them, "yeah," he said. "i do." your breath hitched.
"but this won't be easy," he said. "not with the age gap. not with your dad. not with the way i feel when some kid like minho calls you and makes you laugh like that." you stepped closer. "i'll deal with my dad, and you know minho is my friend." jay scoffs at the last bit. "and seojun?" you paused, a smile appearing on your face when jay mentions the little twerp, "he loves me."
jay softened, "he does." you looked up at him. "so maybe this can work. maybe we just take it one day at a time." he studied you, then nodded slowly. "one day at a time."
and just like that, you felt the air between you shift—something fragile and uncertain, but also real. jay reaches for your hand, the warmth of his fingers interlocking with your own. you sigh in content. "no more secrets," he said.
you nodded. "no more eavesdropping." he smirked. "we'll see."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
"are you and appa married now?"
the question drops like a bomb in the middle of the warm living room. you freeze where you're kneeling, halfway through tying seojun's tiny sneaker. your eyes snap up to meet his, wide and innocent—but there's something suspiciously knowing behind them. he had a small grin on his face, looking at you mischievously.
smart ass.
"what?" you blink, confused and shocked. "what makes you say that?"
"because appa never lets anyone touch his hair, not even me!" seojun says seriously, eyes narrowed like he's putting the clues together in his tiny head. "but you touched it yesterday and he didn't even yell. and you didn't yell at him either. you said 'thank you' when he brought you water."
"i always say thank you," you mumble, suddenly very interested in the velcro strap you're adjusting. you begin wondering if they make velcro sneakers for adults. "no you don't," he says bluntly. "you fight all the time. but now you smile. and he smiles too. and he puts his hand here when you walk." he pats the small of his back, mimicking jay's subtle touches. "so... are you his wife now?"
you sigh, resting your forehead lightly against his, "no, junnie. i'm not his wife."
"but do you love him?" your heart lurches. you swallow at his bluntness, "you ask a lot of questions for a 5 year old." he shrugs like an old man. "i'm smart. i know things."
you pull back, smiling softly at him, "yeah, you really do." just then, jay walks into the room, ruffling seojun's hair. "ready to go, bud?"
"appa," seojun turns to him seriously. "if she's not your wife yet, you better hurry. i want her to stay. she makes good pancakes." you look at the boy offended, gasping at his words, "so you only want me here for pancakes?" seojun grins in response, squealing when you attack him with tickles on his tummy.
jay glances at you—eyes dark, flickering with something unspoken and then he chuckles, low and affectionate. "working on it, buddy," he murmurs.
you roll your eyes, cheeks burning at his words "liar." jay smirks when he sees your face turn red, "brat."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
jay gave you a quick pep talk before you left his home to finally see your father.
you chew at your lip nervously as you stand in front of your father's study door, your fingers twitching by your sides. he had texted earlier asking where you'd been the night before, and you lied—again. but you're not sure if he believed you this time. not when he knows how close you've gotten with jay. not when he's always been a little too observant for your liking. you take a deep breath, knock once, and step inside.
he looks up from his laptop, brow furrowed. "so. you're alive." you wince. "hi, dad."
he leans back in his chair, arms folding. "i'm guessing you didn't spend the night at minho's like you said." you hesitate. "no."
"then where?" you glance down, then back up. "jay's."
he doesn't respond at first. the silence thickens. "and?" he finally asks, voice tight. "is there something you want to tell me?" you swallow hard, fingers locking together. "we've... gotten close." his eyes narrow slightly at the term, repeating it with distaste, "close."
"i care about him," you admit. "and seojun. it's not just... it's not a fling, dad. i know he's older, and i know he's your business partner, but—"
"23 and 35, sweetheart." his voice is low, clipped. "he has a child. responsibilities. baggage. you really think you're ready for all that?"
"i've already been dealing with it," you fire back, trying to stay calm. "i've been helping take care of seojun for months. i love that kid. and jay... he's—he's good to me. in his own grumpy way." your father scoffs. "grumpy is one word for it." you cross your arms. "you don't get to judge him. you've worked with him for years. you know he's not some asshole." he sighs, rubbing his temples. "i know. i know he's not. he's a good man. he's just... not who i pictured for you."
"me neither," you say quietly. he looks up at you again—less angry now, more tired. "does he make you happy?" you nod. "yeah. even when we fight. especially when we fight." he huffs out a reluctant laugh, knowing that jay at the very least was able to deal with his daughter's attitude, "sounds like you two deserve each other."
"but that doesn't mean that i'm fully okay with this. i need to chat with mr.park as well, about this." you nod at his word, a small laugh escaping you as you watch your father struggle to contain his protectiveness.
a beat of silence passes. "just... be careful," he says finally. "this changes a lot of things."
"i know," you say softly. "but i think it's worth it." he nods once, slowly. "alright." and just like that, a line has been crossed. awkward tension still lingers in the air, but there's something softer now. something almost like acceptance.
you step forward to hug him, and after a beat, his arms wrap around you too. "just don't let him break your heart," he mutters.
you smile. "i'll break his first."
he groans. "god, you're still your mother's child."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
it's been a few weeks since everything changed—since your father reluctantly accepted the relationship, since seojun's wide eyes and perceptive little voice called both you and jay out, and since you finally stopped pretending what was happening between you and jay was just physical. things had shifted. not abruptly, but with slow ease.
the mornings in jay's house were no longer just routine—they had rhythm. you're in the kitchen, barefoot and sleepy, stirring the oatmeal you promised seojun the night before. the little boy's perched on the counter next to you, legs swinging as he munches on an apple slice with a bag of gummy bears wound tightly in his palms—humming some made-up song under his breath.
"you gonna tell your dad i let you have gummy bears before breakfast?" you tease, bumping his knee with your hip. seojun giggles. "hmm... depends. will you make pancakes this weekend?"
"blackmail? wow, you really are his son."
"damn right," jay's voice cuts in from behind, gravelly and amused, his hair still damp from the shower. he's buttoning up his shirt slowly, eyes scanning the scene in front of him like it's his favorite sight in the world. his son and you in his kitchen, soft morning light catching the curve of your cheek, your voice warm and teasing. he lives for this now. these little domestic moments of peace. "don't tell me you're bribing my kid," he mutters, brushing a kiss against your temple as he grabs his coffee.
you roll your eyes, "he's blackmailing me and bribing implies i'm getting something out of it." jay smirks, "you get to wake up in my bed. that's gotta count for something." you shoot him a look, but your cheeks warm anyway. he never misses a chance to fluster you, and he knows exactly how to do it—especially when seojun's around and your only defense is a quiet huff and a shake of your head.
breakfast is chaotic in the way that all good families are. seojun accidentally knocks over his juice, you forget the toast in the oven, jay's tie somehow ends up in the butter dish, and yet... it all works. it's loud and messy and full of laughter.
later, after jay drops seojun off at school, it's just the two of you again. you're curled up on the couch with your laptop, trying to work as the summer was over and you no long had the pleasure of rotting around. you can feel his eyes on you from across the room. he's supposed to be reviewing contracts, but instead, he's watching you—his bratty, stubborn girl who somehow wormed her way into the quiet places of his life and made them glow.
"what?" you ask, not looking up. he shrugs. "nothing. just thinking." you lift a brow, "dangerous."
"about how you were made for this," he adds quietly. "for me. for him. for all of this. even though the beginning of our relationship revolved around constant bickering.” you scoff, half touched, half embarrassed. "so dramatic." but he doesn't deny it. just leans back, arms crossed, eyes soft. "tell me i'm wrong."
you don't. not because you can't, but because for once—you don't want to.
— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!
ˎˊ˗ sypnosis: jay (park jongseong) thinks it’s going to be a quiet birthday night — until you surprise him with everything he didn’t know he needed. from a chaotic celebration with friends to a more intimate kind of attention when the night winds down, what starts as a simple plan turns into something far more personal, where every detail, every touch, and every moment is just for him.
ˎˊ˗ wc: 11.5k
warnings & content: smut (18+), established relationship, needy jay, reader is a tease, jay talks you through it ugh, jay is really sweet, "ruin him" type shi, soft but incredibly filthy, use of baby as an endearment, vulgar language, heavy makeout, dry humping, teasing & denial (mutual), dominant & submissive undertones (mutual), oral sex (m. & f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise kink, body worship, slight consensual power play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, domestic intimacy after sex ➜ mdni ! or do.. it's up to you ♡ enha members are mentioned | purely a work of fiction, nothing here is real
now playing: birthday sex by jeremih | ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| |
♪ el’s bubble: advanced happy birthday to my fine ass man park jongseong 😍 don't really know how to feel about this because i've barely ever written smut but #YOLO 🙂↕️ i hope you enjoy this piece ! likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are deeply appreciated on here ♡ requests are always open if you want to see me write something specific ۫ ׅ
tags: my babe @wonscapes
The sunset bleeds through the glass in slow, honeyed streaks, turning everything gold like the night already knows it belongs to him.
The elevator hums as it rises, smooth and steady, the kind that makes the city feel distant long before you even reach the top. Warm-toned lights reflect against the mirrored walls, catching on the silk of your dress, on the sharp lines of his suit, on the quiet space between you that feels anything but empty.
You stand beside him in that black slip satin dress, the fabric soft, deliberate, almost unfair in the way it falls against your skin. His blazer rests over your shoulders, heavier than it looks, carrying the faint trace of his cologne. He had not hesitated in the lobby. One look at you, and it was already slipping off him, already draped over you like it belonged there.
His hand settles at your waist, familiar, easy. His thumb moves absentmindedly against your side, a quiet habit, something he does without thinking when he is close enough to touch you.
“You didn’t have to come all the way down,” he says, voice low, calm, like he is speaking just for you despite the empty elevator.
You glance up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s your birthday. I can do the bare minimum and pick up my boyfriend.”
A soft huff leaves him, almost a laugh, though he keeps it contained. His fingers press slightly into your waist before relaxing again, like the reaction slipped out before he could stop it. His gaze lingers on you a second longer than necessary, searching, but you keep your expression light, unreadable.
The elevator dings.
The doors slide open to the private foyer, all marble floors and muted lighting, polished to the point that it barely feels lived in. He steps out first this time, one hand slipping into his pocket, the other still holding onto you like letting go is not even an option.
You follow, letting him take the lead.
The walk to the door is short, quiet, almost too quiet. The kind that settles into your bones, smooth and familiar, like every other night the two of you have stepped into this space together. Routine in the way his hand fits around yours, routine in the soft echo of your footsteps against marble, routine in the steady rhythm of his breathing just slightly ahead of you.
Like nothing is waiting on the other side.
You key in the code, fingers steady despite the way your chest tightens just a little.
A soft click.
The door opens.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
It comes out loud, uneven, completely uncoordinated, voices crashing into each other at different timings, some too early, some too late, some louder than necessary. It echoes against the high ceilings, bouncing off glass and stone, filling every inch of the condominium with something alive, chaotic, and warm.
For a split second, he pauses.
It is subtle, almost unnoticeable, the kind of reaction anyone else would miss. But you feel it instantly. The slight stillness in his hand, the faint tension in his fingers where they hold yours, the way his step halts just a fraction before continuing. Surprise flashes across his face, quick and unguarded, something raw that slips through before he has the chance to mask it.
Then it is gone.
The living room is already full.
Heeseung is sprawled across the couch as if he owns it, one arm thrown over the backrest, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm, his grin wide and teasing like he has been waiting all night just to see that exact reaction. Jake stands near the kitchen island, phone already up, recording shamelessly, his laughter spilling out between words as he tries and fails to keep the camera steady.
“Say something, bro,” he calls out, still laughing, clearly enjoying this far too much.
Sunghoon leans against the counter with his arms crossed, posture relaxed, watching everything unfold with a quiet smile, shaking his head like he expected this outcome from the start. Sunoo is practically glowing with excitement, hands clasped together near his chest, bouncing slightly on his feet, eyes flicking between you and Jay like he is waiting for a bigger reaction that never quite comes.
“Take your time, Jay-hyung,” Jungwon calls out, voice cutting cleanly through the noise, playful but knowing, his gaze sharp as it moves between the two of you, lingering just long enough to suggest he has already pieced everything together.
Riki does not even bother hiding it. His grin is immediate, unapologetic. “Hyung, you actually look shocked. That’s insane.”
The room feels alive in a way the condo never does.
Music hums softly somewhere in the background, barely audible beneath the noise. There is the faint smell of food lingering in the air, something warm and savory, mixed with something sweet that sits lighter, like sugar and frosting. A cake rests on the table, slightly off-center, candles already set but unlit, decorations scattered around it in a way that looks rushed but intentional, like everyone had a hand in putting it together.
There are jackets thrown over chairs, half-finished drinks on the counter, small signs of life in a place that is usually too pristine, too untouched.
All of it is for him.
Jay exhales.
It is quiet, almost lost under the noise, something that sounds like a breath leaving him slower than it should, like a laugh he chooses not to fully let out.
His hand shifts in yours, fingers threading through properly this time, fitting between yours with more intention, more weight. Grounding. Certain. Like he is anchoring himself, or maybe anchoring you.
When he steps fully inside, he does not let go.
He does not make a scene, does not react the way they probably expected him to. No wide eyes, no exaggerated surprise, no dramatic words.
Instead, he tilts his head slightly, gaze sweeping across the room, taking everything in with quiet precision. Every face. Every detail. Every effort.
Then he smirks.
Subtle. Controlled. Effortless.
So very Park Jongseong.
“You guys are so, so loud,” he says, tone even, composed, but there is something softer beneath it now, something warmer that lingers in the way his voice drops at the end, something that betrays how much this actually means to him.
A few groans, a few laughs, someone telling him to “react properly,” but he barely acknowledges it.
Because then he looks at you.
Just for a split second.
It is quick, but it lingers all the same, his eyes settling on you like everything else fades just slightly into the background. There is something different there now. Definitely not surprise. Not entirely.
Recognition.
His thumb brushes slowly against your hand, once, deliberate.
“You planned this?” he asks quietly, voice lowered just enough that it is meant only for you.
But the way he is already looking at you, the faint curve at the corner of his lips, the knowing in his eyes, says he figured it out long before the door even opened.
“Of course I did,” you say, soft but certain, tilting your head just slightly as you look up at him, like there was never a version of tonight where you would not.
The corner of his mouth lifts, something quieter than a full smile, but close enough.
And just like that, the room pulls him in.
It happens extremely fast.
“Okay, but can we eat now or are we waiting for a speech,” Jake says from the island, already halfway through something on a plate he definitely was not supposed to touch yet.
“You started already?” Sunoo gasps, scandalized, eyes widening as he walks closer. “We literally just got here.”
“I was hungry,” Jake shrugs, completely unbothered, taking another bite.
“You’re out of your own mind,” Jungwon mutters, though he is already reaching over to steal something off the same plate.
“Hyung is old now, he needs to eat early,” Riki adds from somewhere behind them, grinning, clearly pleased with himself.
Jay scoffs lightly at that, finally letting out something that resembles a real laugh. “You’re talking like you’re not next.”
“Not yet,” Riki shoots back immediately. “I still have plenty of time.”
“Time for what exactly,” Sunghoon cuts in dryly, barely looking up from where he stands. “You’re already annoying.”
Heeseung hums from the couch, watching the entire thing unfold like it is entertainment made specifically for him. “This is why we should’ve recorded his reaction longer. We missed it.”
“I did record it,” Jake insists, waving his phone slightly. “But he didn’t react properly.”
“Yeah, that was so underwhelming,” Sunoo agrees, pointing at Jay. “Do it again.”
Jay shakes his head, amused now, shoulders loosening as he leans back slightly, finally settling into the space like he belongs in the middle of it.
“You guys are ridiculous.”
“Say thank you first,” Jungwon adds, tone teasing but pointed.
There is a pause, brief but there.
Jay glances around at them, at the mess, at the effort, at the noise that fills the condo in a way it never does.
“…thank you,” he says, quieter this time, but real.
A chorus of exaggerated reactions follows immediately, mocking cheers, someone clapping too loudly, someone else telling him that was “so heartfelt” in the most unserious tone possible.
And just like that, he blends in.
Effortless.
He moves through them easily, slipping into conversations, into the rhythm of their teasing, throwing comments back just as quickly as they come at him. There is a looseness to him now, something more relaxed, more open, his usual composure softening at the edges the longer he stands there with them.
He nudges Jake when he tries to take another bite.
He rolls his eyes at Riki but does not hide the smile this time.
Heeseung throws an arm around his shoulder at some point, and he does not shrug it off.
It is loud. It is messy. It is easy.
Yet — every so often, he looks at you.
Not long enough for anyone else to catch. Just quick glances, subtle, almost instinctive. Across the room, in between conversations, in the middle of laughter.
Like he is checking if you are still there.
Like this, somehow, still leads back to you.
You never really stay in one place.
The noise builds around you, layered and constant, laughter folding into overlapping conversations, someone calling out from the kitchen, someone else arguing from the couch like it actually matters. It fills the condo completely, warm and restless, like the space finally feels lived in.
But you move along the edges of it, quiet, deliberate.
You check the food first.
Lifting lids just enough to let the heat breathe, adjusting plates so they do not look crowded or rushed. Every dish laid out is his favorite, not in a way that is obvious, not labeled or pointed out, but intentional in a way only you would notice. The things he reaches for without thinking. The ones he finishes completely. The ones he mentioned once, casually, as if it did not matter.
You remembered anyway.
You nudge one dish closer to the center so it does not get overlooked. Slide another back before it tips too close to the edge. You swap utensils, wipe down a small spill with the corner of a napkin, straighten something that does not really need straightening.
Small things.
Quiet things.
You move to the drinks next, checking levels, making sure there is enough, that no one is left standing awkwardly with empty hands. You pass one to Sunghoon when he looks around for it, hand another to Heeseung mid-sentence without interrupting him. It is seamless, almost practiced, like you have already done this a hundred times.
You drift in and out of conversations without staying long.
A soft laugh here. A short reply there. A nod when someone pulls you in. You never linger enough to become the center of anything, never take the attention away from where it belongs.
From him.
Somewhere between all of that — he starts to notice.
At first, it is nothing.
A brief glance when you pass behind him, your hand brushing lightly against the back of a chair. His voice pauses for half a second before picking back up, like it did not happen.
Then again.
You reach across the table to fix something, the light catching on the satin of your dress, his blazer still resting on your shoulders. His eyes follow the movement without meaning to, lingering just long enough to feel it before he looks away, dragged back into whatever Jake is saying.
Then again.
You laugh softly at something Jungwon says, quick and easy, and his head turns instinctively, like your voice cuts through everything else without trying.
It builds like that.
Quiet. Unnoticed by everyone else, but him.
You bring the cake out last, careful, both hands steady as you carry it to the center of the table. You set it down gently, adjusting it until it sits right. The candles are already placed, the design simple but intentional, nothing flashy, nothing excessive.
His favorite. The one you baked yourself.
Behind it, slightly off to the side, is the other cake, bigger and louder in design, covered in decorations and writing from the boys, colors layered a little messily but full of effort, the kind that makes the room feel even more crowded in the best way possible.
You smooth your hands over the table out of habit, then straighten, brushing your palms against your dress.
That is when you feel it.
His gaze.
Not fleeting. Not distracted. Steady.
When you look up, he is already watching you. Across the room, with everything still happening around him. Riki laughing too loud at something Jake said, Sunghoon telling him to shut up, Jake still holding his phone up like it is part of his arm, Sunoo carefully fixing the position of the decorations on their cake like it matters more than it does.
None of it reaches him. Not right now.
His attention is not entirely on them, but it is on you.
The way he looks at you has shifted.
No teasing. No half-smile meant for the room. No shared joke thrown back at his friends.
Just something quieter. Softer.
His eyes move over you slowly, like he is noticing everything at once. The blazer resting on your shoulders. The faint disarray in your hair from moving around the kitchen. The way your expression is still focused, still checking, still making sure everything is right.
For him.
Something shifts in his face.
The room stays loud, full of movement and sound, but this moment pulls inward, like everything else has been pushed slightly out of focus.
He does not say anything.
He just looks at you.
The room falls back into its rhythm after that moment, noise spilling over again, laughter returning in waves, the two cakes already becoming a topic of debate between Jake and Sunoo.
You drift back toward the kitchen without thinking too much about it.
Just checking things again.
Straightening what has already been straightened.
Making sure nothing is running low, nothing is forgotten.
That is when you feel him behind you.
Not sudden. Not startling.
Just close enough that the air shifts.
“You did all this?” Jay’s voice is low, right near your ear, calm but softer than before.
You glance over your shoulder slightly, already holding back a smile. “No, I hired a lot of professionals.”
A quiet exhale of amusement leaves him.
He steps in beside you anyway, naturally taking the knife from the counter before you can reach for it again. He does not make a big deal out of it, just starts helping, cutting neatly, passing pieces onto plates like he has done it before.
You watch him for a second. “Careful. That one’s yours.”
He looks at you briefly. “I figured.”
There is no pause in the way he moves, but the corner of his mouth lifts slightly.
The two of you work like that for a moment, simple, unspoken, shared in small movements rather than words.
Then he sets the knife down and tilts his head toward the quieter corner of the kitchen.
“Come here,” he says, still low.
You follow him without question.
Just far enough away from the noise that it softens at the edges.
He leans back against the counter, arms loosely crossed now, watching you for a second before speaking again.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says.
Not heavy. Not serious in a way that breaks the mood.
Just honest.
You raise a brow slightly, playful. “So I should’ve let Jake order a cake with your name spelled wrong?”
A quiet laugh slips out of him immediately, unguarded.
“No,” he says, shaking his head once. “That one was necessary.”
A beat.
His gaze settles on you again, softer but still amused.
“But this?” he adds, quieter this time, nodding faintly toward everything you handled. “You didn’t have to.”
You shrug lightly, like it is nothing. “I wanted to.”
That lands differently.
Enough for him to pause for a second before he looks away, exhaling through his nose like he is trying not to smile too much.
“Yeah,” he says finally, voice low again. “I can tell.”
The night does not end all at once.
It slows down first.
Somewhere between laughter turning softer and conversations stretching longer than they need to, the energy starts to loosen at the edges. Plates are emptier now, glasses half-finished, the two cakes already cut into and shared, both versions of the celebration slowly blending into one warm, messy memory.
Jake is the first to lean back on the couch with a satisfied sigh, phone still in his hand but attention fading. “Okay, I’m full. I’m not moving for the next hour.”
Sunoo is still talking about how the decorations “looked better in person than in photos,” while Sunghoon quietly clears a few empty plates without being asked, acting like it is not a habit. Jungwon scrolls through his phone, laughing under his breath at something Riki says, while Riki himself is still speaking like his energy has no limit.
Heeseung checks the time.
“Okay,” he says, voice easy but final in a way that shifts the room. “We should probably start heading out.”
That changes the pace.
Not suddenly, but gently.
Phones get picked up again. Chairs scrape softly. Jackets are gathered. The condo, once overflowing with noise and movement, begins to quiet in layers.
Jay moves with them naturally, not rushing anything, not holding them back, just fitting into the flow of it ending. He thanks them when they tease him again, shakes his head when Riki tries to stretch the moment out longer, listens while Sunoo insists on taking “one last photo.”
The door opens, closes, opens again.
A last round of teasing from Jake at the threshold. Sunghoon’s casual “text when you’re free.” Jungwon’s small wave. Sunoo lingering just a second too long before finally stepping out. Riki calling something from the hallway until Heeseung drags him away with a laugh.
Then the door shuts fully.
The condo exhales.
Silence does not arrive immediately.
It settles in gradually, like the space is remembering itself again. Dimmer now. Quieter. Evidence of the night still scattered everywhere, empty plates on the counter, traces of cake on the table, chairs slightly out of place, the warmth of people still lingering in the air.
The energy has shifted, not gone, just softened into something smaller, something that finally does not need to be shared with anyone else.
The condo feels quieter now, but not empty.
Jay is near the kitchen island when you step out.
His shirt sleeves are slightly rolled now, posture looser than earlier, like the night has finally stopped asking anything of him. He is holding nothing, just standing there in that calm aftermath, gaze unfocused for a second until it finds you.
Then it stops.
Completely.
You had taken off his blazer a long time ago.
Now you are just you.
A black slip satin dress clings softly to your frame, catching the low amber lighting of the condo every time you move, the fabric reflecting in quiet, fluid highlights. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your face in a way that feels unplanned but soft. Your makeup is still intact, carefully done but slightly lived in now, your dewy lips catching the light whenever you speak or breathe.
In your hands is a box.
Not large, but held carefully.
Jay’s gaze drops to it first, then back to you, slower this time.
“Baby, what’s that?” he asks, voice lower, calmer, but clearly more attentive now.
You stop a few steps away from him, adjusting your grip on the box slightly before looking up at him properly.
“It’s not from them,” you say first, glancing briefly toward the living room behind him, where the aftermath of the party still lingers in small, scattered traces. Then you look back at him. “It’s from me.”
His brows lift just slightly.
From you.
You take a breath, like you are deciding how to say it, then your expression softens into something more certain.
“It’s your personal gift box,” you continue. “They’re just stuff I picked out, things I thought you’d like, or things you probably forgot you even wanted.”
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he can stop it.
“You made a whole box?” he asks, like he is testing the words, like he is trying to understand the scale of it.
You nod once.
“Of course I did.”
A beat passes.
Then you step a little closer, careful, like you are still holding something fragile even though it is just a box.
“I didn’t want to just give it to you and leave it there,” you add, softer now. “So I thought… we open it together.”
That makes him pause again.
His eyes flicker over your face, slower this time. Not just the box anymore. Not just the room. You.
“You want to open it together,” he repeats, quieter, like he is making sure he heard you right.
You shrug lightly, but there is something shy in it now, something honest you are not fully hiding anymore.
“It’s your birthday, baby,” you say simply. “I… I want to see your reaction.”
That gets him.
A small exhale leaves him, almost a laugh, but it does not fully become one. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you just enough that the box is now between both of you.
His hand comes up slowly, not taking it, just resting lightly under it to help support the weight.
“Okay,” he says, easy, but there is something softer under it now. “Open it with me then.”
His eyes lift to yours again, steady.
“But if you put something embarrassing in here, I’m blaming you in front of everyone tomorrow.”
A faint smile tugs at your lips, soft and knowing, but you do not answer him right away.
Instead, a quiet giggle slips out, barely contained, like you are trying not to give him the satisfaction of a response too quickly. Your eyes flick up to his for a second, dewy lips curving just slightly as you tighten your hold on the box between you both.
Jay notices immediately.
The smallest shift in his expression, the way his gaze narrows just a little, like he is already suspicious of you.
“You’re not even denying it,” he says, voice lower now, almost amused.
You just shake your head lightly, still smiling, still not saying anything, like words would ruin whatever you are enjoying about this moment.
“Yep,” he continues, tilting his head slightly, “that’s really concerning.”
You finally step closer, enough that the box is fully between your chests now, your fingers brushing his for a second as you adjust your grip. The contact is brief, but it lingers in the air longer than it should.
“Open it,” you say quietly.
He studies you for a second longer, like he is trying to figure out exactly what you are hiding behind that smile.
Then, slowly, he lifts the lid.
The box is carefully arranged.
Not messy. Not rushed. Intentional.
The first thing he sees is perfume, sleek and expensive, something subtle but distinctly him, the kind of scent that lingers without announcing itself. His fingers hover over it for a second before he glances at you.
You only smile a little more.
Under it is a watch.
Classic, refined, the kind he would wear without thinking, but would still catch light every time he moved his hand. Placed neatly in its case, positioned like you had turned it over in your hands more than once before deciding it was the one.
His hand pauses slightly at that, fingertips resting near the edge of the box.
Then he exhales quietly, almost under his breath.
“Wow, you really went all out,” he says.
His voice is quieter now, less teasing, more thoughtful as his fingers hover over the edge of the box, taking in everything piece by piece.
The way everything is arranged like you actually thought about where his eyes would land first.
Then he shifts something gently aside.
A guitar pick.
Another necktie.
Both were placed with the same careful intention as everything else, like each item was chosen in a different moment, but all leading back to him.
His brows knit slightly.
His fingers pause for a second longer than the others.
A price tag hangs slightly awkwardly between the rest of the items, half-hidden, like it does not belong there at all.
He looks at it again.
Then at you.
“Why is this still here?” he asks, quieter now, brows faintly knit.
You blink once, then glance down at the box like you are just noticing it.
“Oh,” you say lightly, almost too casual. “That must’ve slipped in while I was arranging everything.”
His eyes narrow a fraction.
“That does not just slip in,” he says.
You shrug, entirely unbothered, lips curving like you are trying not to laugh.
“Well,” you add, tilting your head, “why don’t you check it properly then?”
That makes him hesitate.
Just a beat.
Like he already suspects he should not, but you are looking at him like it is the most normal request in the world.
Finally, he exhales softly through his nose and reaches in anyway.
Careful.
He pulls the tag out, glances at it once, and goes completely still.
The reaction is instant, subtle, but sharp. His hand stops mid-motion, fingers tightening slightly around the tag before he quickly lowers it again, like it suddenly weighs more than it should.
A breath catches quietly in his throat.
His fingers linger on it for a second too long.
The room feels quieter again, like everything else has slipped further away the moment he actually reads it properly.
“…you’re kidding,” he says under his breath, almost disbelieving, eyes flicking up to you immediately.
You don’t answer right away.
Instead, you shift slightly closer.
He’s still standing, still holding the item, still caught in that pause between understanding and reaction.
So you bend down just a little, bringing yourself closer to his eye level, where he’s looking into the box. The movement is slow, unhurried, deliberate in a way that makes his attention snap back to you instantly.
“Why would I be kidding?” you ask softly.
Your voice is quieter now, no longer competing with anything in the room.
Just him.
His gaze lifts properly now, and it doesn’t leave your face. Not even when you straighten halfway again, still close enough that the space between you feels noticeably smaller than before.
There’s a subtle shift in his expression. It’s as if he’s trying to decide whether you’re being serious or just enjoying watching him react.
You tilt your head slightly, lips curving faintly.
“I told you,” you add, gentler now, almost teasing again, “it’s a personal box.”
A beat.
His grip on the box loosens just slightly.
“Personal,” he repeats, slower this time.
You hum softly in confirmation.
“If you want to take a little peek, I'm wearing the lingerie right now."
The words slip from your lips like a secret invitation, laced with just enough huskiness to make the air between you thicken.
A pause.
Jay's eyes widen a fraction, his breath catching audibly as the implication sinks in.
You watch the way his throat bobs with a hard swallow, the item in his hand forgotten for a split second before he carefully lowers the box back onto the nearby island. His fingers tremble slightly, betraying the storm building inside him.
"Seriously, baby," he mutters, voice rough and low, like gravel underfoot. "You're gonna drive me crazy."
Before you can respond, his hand shoots out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.
The grip is warm, insistent, sending a jolt of heat straight up your arm and pooling low in your stomach.
He tugs you forward, leading you out of the cluttered space and into the living area, where the soft glow of a lamp casts long shadows over the couch. The room feels intimate, enclosed, like it's holding its breath along with you.
Jay sinks onto the couch first, his body sprawling back against the cushions with a controlled urgency that makes your pulse quicken. He pulls you down onto his lap in one fluid motion, your thighs straddling his as you settle against him. His forehead brushes yours for a second, breath warm, like he needs to steady himself before anything else.
The hard line of his erection presses up through his pants, unmistakable and throbbing against the thin fabric of your dress, right where your core aches in response. You shift slightly, grinding just enough to feel him twitch beneath you, a low groan rumbling from his chest.
"God, you're already so hard for me," you murmur against his ear, your breath hot on his skin.
His hands move to the hem of your dress, calloused palms sliding up your thighs, bunching the material higher with deliberate slowness.
The anticipation builds like a slow burn, your skin prickling under his touch as he savors every inch revealed.
He peels the fabric upward, inch by inch, exposing the lace edges of your lingerie — the delicate black straps hugging your hips, the sheer panels teasing the curves of your breasts and the soft mound between your legs.
"Fuck, baby, look at you," Jay rasps, his voice thick with hunger as he pauses to trace a finger along the lace trim. "You're so sexy like this."
The dress whispers over your head and away, leaving you bare save for the intimate pieces that cling to your body like a second skin. Jay's gaze devours you, dark and hungry, raking from the swell of your cleavage down to where the lace dips low over your ass. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs tracing the edges of the fabric, dipping just under to brush your bare skin.
"You're so hot," he breathes, the words punched out like he's been holding them back too long. His voice is wrecked, laced with raw need, and it sends a shiver racing down your spine.
You lean in, your hands framing his face, fingers threading into his hair as your lips crash against his. The kiss starts fierce, mouths fusing in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, his stubble scraping deliciously against your chin. He tastes like mint and faint whiskey, his tongue plunging deep, claiming every inch as you suck on it lightly, drawing a muffled curse from him.
Your bodies press closer, your breasts flattening against his chest through the thin lace, nipples hardening into tight peaks that rub against him with every shift.
Jay's hands roam upward, one cupping the back of your neck to angle you deeper into the kiss, the other sliding down to grip your ass, squeezing the firm flesh and pulling you harder against his bulge.
"Keep moving like that," he growls into your mouth, breaking just enough to speak before capturing your lips again. "You feel so good, baby."
You rock your hips instinctively, feeling the rigid length of his cock strain against you, the friction sparking heat that makes your pussy clench with want. His grip tightens just slightly, not to stop you — just to keep you there, like he doesn’t want you slipping away.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to nip at your lower lip, then dives back in, devouring you like he can't get enough, breath mingling in hot pants as the world narrows to the slide of lips, the grind of bodies, and the promise of more to come.
You pull back slightly, your lips hovering over his, a teasing smile curving your mouth as you feel the insistent throb of his cock against your soaked panties.
"Aw, you're that horny already? That needy?" you whisper, your voice laced with playful mockery, your fingers trailing down his chest to toy with the buttons of his shirt.
His eyes flicker over your face for a second longer than needed, like he’s trying to read you, not just respond.
Then, his eyes flash with a mix of frustration and desire, his hands tightening on your hips to hold you in place. "Well, you started it," he shoots back, his tone rough but edged with amusement. "You already knew what you were doing when you decided to wear that dress for tonight. Teasing me all evening like that — bending over, brushing against me. Don't act so surprised now."
You laugh softly, the sound breathy as you roll your hips again, deliberately dragging your lace-covered cunt along the length of his bulge. The friction sends a jolt through you, your clit pulsing with need, but you keep your movements slow, torturous. "Me? Teasing? I was just being myself," you say innocently, leaning down to nip at his jawline, your teeth grazing the rough stubble there.
His breath hitches, and he bucks up slightly, seeking more pressure, but you lift yourself just enough to deny him.
"Bullshit," he mutters, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tugging lightly to tilt your head back. His lips find your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin. “Still with me, though, right?” he murmurs against your skin, quieter than the rest of him. "That dress hugged every curve, and you knew I'd be staring. Knew I'd want to rip it off you the second we were alone."
You shiver at the pull on your hair, the sting mixing with pleasure as his mouth works over your neck. Your hands push at his shoulders, not to stop him but to create space, your body arching into the sensation.
"Maybe I did," you admit, your voice dropping to a sultry purr. "But can you blame me? Look at you — all tense and worked up. It's fun watching you try to hold back."
Jay growls low in his throat, flipping the script by thrusting his hips up sharply, grinding his cock against your core with enough force to make you gasp. The lace of your panties is drenched now, clinging to your folds, and the ridge of him presses right against your entrance through the barriers.
"Hold back? Baby, I'm about two seconds from bending you over this couch and fucking you senseless," he warns, his free hand slipping between your thighs to cup your folds over the fabric, his fingers rubbing slow circles over your clit.
The touch makes your thighs tremble, heat flooding your veins as you bite your lip to stifle a moan. But you don't give in yet — instead, you capture his wrist, guiding his hand away with a wicked grin. "Not so fast," you tease, shifting to grind down harder, feeling his cock jump in response. "I like seeing you squirm. Bet you're leaking already, aren't you? Soaking through those pants for me."
He curses under his breath, his grip on your hair loosening as he drops his head back against the couch, eyes locked on yours with burning intensity.
"You're killing me," he says, but there's a smirk tugging at his lips. His hand softens where it rests on you, like he’s not entirely complaining. His other hand traces the edge of your bra, dipping under to thumb your nipple, rolling the hard bud until you arch into him. "But two can play this game. Keep grinding on me like that, and I'll make you come without even touching that pretty pussy of yours."
You whimper at the promise in his words, the idea sending a fresh wave of arousal through you, but you hold out, rocking your hips in a deliberate rhythm that has him groaning with every pass.
Your breasts bounce slightly with the motion, the lace scraping against your sensitive skin, and you lean forward to press them against his chest again, letting him feel how your nipples drag over his shirt.
"Admit it," you challenge, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, "you love when I take control like this. Love feeling me tease your cock until you're begging."
Jay's response is to surge up, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue thrusting deep as his hands clamp down on your ass, guiding your movements faster.
The kiss is all teeth and desperation, saliva mixing as you both pant into each other's mouths.
He breaks away first, nipping at your earlobe. "Begging? Never," he lies, his voice strained. "But keep this up, and I'll flip you over and eat that little cunt of yours until you're the one screaming my name."
Your pussy clenches emptily, aching to be filled, but the teasing has you hooked now. You slow your hips to a torturous grind, circling just the tip of his cock with your clit through the fabric.
"Promises, promises," you taunt, trailing kisses down his neck, sucking marks into his skin to match the one on yours.
He retaliates by pinching your nipple sharply, the jolt of pain-pleasure making you cry out softly. His fingers delve lower, slipping under the lace to trace your slick entrance, dipping just the tip inside before pulling away.
"Feel that? You're dripping for me," he murmurs, bringing his fingers to his lips to suck them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. "You taste just as good as I remember, baby. Bet your mouth on my cock would feel even better."
Your breath catches at the suggestion, heat pooling low in your belly, but you shake your head with a sly smile. "Not yet," you say, resuming your grind, faster now, chasing your own building pleasure while denying him release. His cock throbs insistently, the wet spot on his pants growing, and you can feel every vein pulse against you.
Minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity of this back-and-forth — your bodies slick with sweat, breaths ragged, the air thick with the scent of arousal. Jay's hands explore every inch they can reach: kneading your breasts, slapping your ass lightly to make you jolt, fingers circling your clit until you're trembling on the edge, only to stop and make you whine in frustration.
"Please," he finally mutters, the word slipping out unbidden as you hover over him, your folds spreading around the shape of his cock through the clothes. His voice drops quieter than before, like it slipped out without him meaning to. His control is fraying, hips jerking up desperately.
You smile triumphantly, but the need in his voice mirrors your own. The teasing has pushed you both to the brink, your body humming with unspent energy. Slowly, deliberately, you slide off his lap, his hand lingers at your waist for a second before letting go, your knees hitting the soft carpet between his legs as you kneel before him.
Jay watches you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it with steady hands despite the tremble in your fingers. The zipper rasps down, and you tug his pants open, freeing his cock. It springs out, thick and veined, the head flushed dark red and glistening with pre-cum that beads at the slit.
"Fuck, yes," he breathes, his hand coming to rest on your head, fingers threading through your hair without pushing — yet.
You wrap your hand around the base, stroking firmly as you lean in, your tongue flicking out to lap at the tip, tasting the salty essence. He groans deeply, his thighs tensing under your touch. You swirl your tongue around the head, tracing the ridge before taking him into your mouth, lips stretching around his girth as you suck gently.
The flavor of him fills your senses, musky and addictive, as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass. Your free hand cups his balls, rolling them lightly, feeling them draw up tight. Jay's hips twitch, but he holds still, letting you set the pace, his curses spilling out in a litany of praise.
"That's it, suck my cock just like that. You’re doing so good," he rasps, his voice breaking as you hollow your cheeks and hum around him, the vibration making him shudder. His voice softens at the edges, it’s as if he’s more focused on you than anything else. You pull back to lick along the underside, from base to tip, before plunging down again, your throat relaxing to take more of him.
Saliva drips down your chin, mixing with his pre-cum, as you work him with relentless enthusiasm — sucking, licking, and stroking. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding you subtly now, fucking your mouth in shallow thrusts that have you moaning around his length.
Your pussy throbs neglected between your legs, arousal trickling down your thighs, but the power of having him like this, unraveled and vocal, fuels you. You speed up, tongue pressing flat against the vein on the underside, until his breaths come in sharp gasps, his body coiling tight.
Jay's hand fists in your hair, not forcing but anchoring himself as his hips buck shallowly into your mouth.
"Mmgh, baby, fuck, just like that," he moans, the sound raw and broken, vibrating through his chest. His cock pulses on your tongue, swelling thicker as you take him deep, your lips sealed around the base, throat working to swallow him down.
You hum around him, the vibration drawing out another guttural groan."Oh shit, yes, suck it harder," his thighs quivering under your palms. Saliva slicks your chin, dripping onto his balls as you bob faster, one hand twisting at the root while the other massages the heavy sac, feeling it tighten further.
His moans escalate, a string of desperate sounds spilling from his lips: "Fuck, your mouth... so good, baby, don't stop." His abs clench, the muscles rippling under his half-unbuttoned shirt, and you glance up to see his head thrown back, neck corded, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
The first hot spurt hits the back of your throat without warning, his cock jerking as he comes with a strangled cry. Flooding your mouth with thick ropes of come. You swallow greedily, milking him through it, your tongue lapping at the underside to prolong the waves until he's spent, shuddering and panting above you.
Jay slumps back against the couch, chest heaving, but his eyes snap open to lock on yours, dark with lingering hunger. His hand finds your face for a second, thumb brushing your cheek in an attempt to ground himself again. He tugs you up gently by the arms, pulling you into his lap again, his softening cock smearing sticky remnants against your thigh. He holds you there a second longer than necessary before moving, he doesn’t want to break the moment just yet.
"That was... fuck, you're incredible," he murmurs, voice hoarse, before crashing his mouth against yours in a deep, claiming kiss.
His tongue sweeps in, tasting himself on you, the kiss turning sloppy and fervent as his hands roam your back, fingers digging into your skin. You melt into it, your own arousal spiking anew from the intimacy, your soaked panties chafing against your swollen folds.
Without breaking the kiss, Jay stands abruptly, scooping you up in his arms with effortless strength. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, his hands cupping your ass to hold you steady as he carries you toward the bedroom. His grip adjusts slightly, more careful now, treating you like you’re something fragile he doesn’t want to mishandle.
The living room fades behind you, the air shifting to the warmer, softer glow of the muted lights spilling from the doorway.
He kicks the door open lightly, stepping inside where the bed waits with its crisp, clean sheets turned down invitingly, the room bathed in a golden haze from the bedside lamps. The scent of fresh laundry and faint vanilla lingers, a contrast to the musky heat between you.
Jay lowers you onto the edge of the mattress, following you down to kneel between your spread thighs, his body crowding yours. The kiss deepens, slower now, his lips moving with deliberate tenderness — sucking on your bottom lip, tongue tracing the seam before plunging in again. You taste the salt of his release mixed with his natural flavor, and it makes your core clench emptily.
Your fingers find the knot of his neck tie, tugging at it experimentally, feeling the silk slide under your touch. He hums approval into your mouth, breaking the kiss just long enough for you to loosen it fully, pulling the fabric free and tossing it aside. The simple act feels charged, another layer stripped away, leaving him more exposed.
You slow things further, your hands moving to the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one with unhurried care. His skin warms your palms as you push the fabric apart, revealing the broad planes of his chest. You trace the lines of his muscles, feeling him shiver under your exploration, his nipples pebbling as your thumbs brush over them.
"Take your time, baby," he whispers, his breath fanning your face, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you. His eyes don’t leave yours, patient in a way that doesn’t match how rushed he was earlier. His own hands mirror yours, sliding up your sides to the clasp of your bra at the back. With a deft flick, he unhooks it, the lace loosening immediately. He peels the straps down your shoulders, drawing the cups away to bare your breasts fully.
The cool air of the room pebbles your nipples instantly, but Jay's gaze heats them, his stare lingering on the full swells and the tight buds begging for attention.
"So beautiful," he breathes, cupping one in his palm, thumb circling the peak before leaning in to take it into his mouth.
You arch into the wet suction, a soft moan escaping as his tongue flicks and laps, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks straight to your folds. His free hand hooks into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your hips with insistent pulls. You lift your body to help, and he slides them off your legs, the damp fabric whispering against your skin before he flings them across the room, forgotten.
Now fully exposed, your thighs part wider, inviting him closer. Jay's mouth switches to your other breast, sucking harder while his hand kneads the first, rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations build a slow fire in your belly, your hips rocking up to seek friction against his still-clothed form.
He pulls back slightly, lips shiny and swollen, a string of saliva connecting him to your skin.
"I want to taste you next, baby," he says, voice low and promising, but he doesn't move. He pauses for just a second, like he’s making sure you want this too. Then, he captures your mouth again, the kiss languid and exploratory, tongues sliding together as your hands continue undressing him, shoving his shirt off his shoulders to pool on the floor.
You whisper it against his ear, voice rough and quiet, “Please, I miss you so much already, baby.”
That pretty much does it for him.
Slowly, carefully, Jay lowers himself between you, his movements unhurried, deliberate, like he’s giving you time to feel every second of it.
He blew hot air across your folds as one finger slid across your clit once more, resulting to you fisting at his hair. He groaned at your harsh touch.
“Baby,” you gritted through clenched teeth as another set of knuckles brushed against your throbbing lips. “Don’t tease me like that. Please.”
Through tousled, messy hair, he glanced up at you with a knowing grin spreading across his lips. He knew you were at his mercy.
“Oh?” he hummed, “Weren’t we like this earlier? Except that the roles were reversed? I’m just simply giving you a taste of your own medicine.” He pressed a gentle kiss over your concealed clit. “Toying with me until I beg for your touch. It would seem a bit unfair if I just let you off the hook easily, no?”
You moaned as his mouth sucked on your inner thigh. He licked his way up to your burning core. His hollow breath fanned your lips. He lifted his gaze from your core, mouth an inch away from your heating centre. Suddenly, without warning, he dragged a long, frustrating lick across your pussy, hitting each nerve you possess. You cried out as a wave of desire flooded your system.
Jay’s tongue licked at your folds, tasting the wetness between them as he grunted against you, the tip of his nose rubbing your clit. You threw your head back as a string of breathy moans bubbled from your throat. His grasp around your thighs grew firmer by the second.
His tongue stroked gentle licks against your pussy, rubbing and nibbling as your head began to spin in circles. Using two fingers to part your lips, he planted wet, hungry kisses along your centre before he went to suck on your folds, driving your knees together. With his free hand, he gently guided your arms back into place, silently asking you to relax against him. You followed, settling your weight across his back.
He moved over you with a hunger that felt almost desperate, as though you were the only thing he needed in that moment, taking in every sound you made. Jay moaned against your skin as he felt you shiver beneath him.
“God,” you gasped, “More, baby. I need more.”
Jay exhaled sharply, a low grunt slipping out at your pleas. He circled your clit as he slowly drove a finger into your hole, your wet walls aching for his touch. His movements grew slower at first, measured and steady, before gradually becoming more intense, his control slipping as he stayed focused on you, flicking the spot that made you see the whole solar system.
You instinctively tightened your legs around him, your body lifting slightly to meet his closeness. Sweat enveloping your hairline as you watched the man of your dreams devour your cunt, longing to make you come for him.
He moved between you with deliberate focus, building the tension until your breath caught sharply at the sudden shift in pressure. When he looked up at you, his expression was dark with intent, like he was watching every reaction you gave him, pulling you closer to the edge without letting you fall.
“Baby,” you cried out. You could tell immediately he reacted at the name, the change in his composure subtle but unmistakable as he kept his attention on you, not breaking away for even a second.
He groaned against you. The sound sent a vibration straight through your core. His mouth sealed around you tighter, his tongue flicking in fast, perfect pulses that made your legs lock and shake. He pressed one hand down over your stomach now, holding you in place as your whole body started to quake beneath him.
You were so close already.
So fucking close.
“Go ahead,” Jay urged you, his voice was soft but dangerous, matching the way he kept you completely overwhelmed, “come all over my mouth, baby.” His voice softens on the last word, as if it’s meant only for you.
His voice and the sudden shift in his movements unraveled you all at once, pulling a sharp breath from your lips as the tension finally broke.
Your body went taut for a moment before giving in completely, trembling as the sensation washed over you in heavy waves that left you breathless and disoriented. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, steady, like he’s holding you through it, not just watching. Your fingers tightened instinctively, grounding yourself in him as everything blurred at the edges.
He didn’t move away. Just stayed close, steady, letting you fall through it while his presence held you there, calm against your unraveling.Like leaving you would break something he wasn’t even partially ready to lose yet.
When it finally started to ease, your breathing came uneven, your body still sensitive, still catching up to what just happened. He exhaled softly above you, eyes fixed on you like he was making sure you were okay before anything else.
The moment didn’t rush to end. It just lingered, quieter now, heavier in a way that felt almost more intimate than before.
He lingers there, not pulling away just yet, his hand resting lightly as his breathing slows.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes still on you, as if checking every detail of your expression.
You nod slightly, catching your breath. “Yup, I’m okay.”
For a moment, his expression is all warmth as he studies your face, something almost like love lingering there. Then it shifts, subtle but undeniable, his focus deepening again as the quiet between you tightens.
One hand slid up over your side, pausing to trace the line of your ribs. The other came to rest just beneath your breast, his thumb grazing the curve like he was reacquainting himself with every part of you.
“You’re beautiful, I hope you know that,” he murmured, eyes drinking you in like he could never get enough. “Always, but like this…”
His voice trailed off, replaced by a soft kiss — just above your breast. Then lower.
A moan spilled out of you. You gripped at his hair, threading your fingers through the dark strands and tugging instinctively.
“I missed the way you taste, baby,” he murmured against you. “All of you. Every sound. Every reaction.”
You couldn’t speak, still trying to steady your breathing as he drew you back in, his attention relentless in a way that made your body react all over again. Still sensitive from before, you already felt yourself slipping back into him.
Jay lifted his head, just slightly, to meet your eyes.
“You still want me?” he asked.
You nodded, immediately, breath shaky. “I want you so, so bad, baby.”
He kissed your lips, slow, dragging, passionate. Tongues tangling. Teeth clashing. He kissed you like he was addicted to the taste of you, like his world started and ended in your mouth.
Then, at last, he moved.
He shifted between your legs, his body solid and hot over yours. You parted for him easily, welcoming and aching, and he took his time guiding his cock between your folds, dragging the flushed head through your slick heat. Not pressing in yet. Just teasing. Just letting you feel him.
You whimpered, breath catching. “Please, baby…”
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours.
“You’re still so wet,” he whispered. “Still open for me.”
Slowly, he pushed in.
You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as his cock stretched you open again, inch by inch. The stretch burned beautifully, deliciously, making your breath stutter and your nails press crescents into his skin. He moaned softly at the feel of you, tight and warm and twitching around him, and he paused, deep inside, to kiss you again.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, your neck. “I’ll take care of you.”
He began to move.
Each thrust was slow and deep, not rushed. He pulled out just enough to make you feel it, then slid back in, hips settling snug against yours. His cock dragged along your sensitive walls in just the right way — like he knew every inch of you by memory.
You clung to him, barely able to breathe.
Your body was still reeling, still tender, and every grind of his hips made your eyes roll back. You wrapped your legs around him, needing him closer, needing him everywhere.
His hands never stopped touching you, sliding along your hips, your waist, your thighs, tracing lines of heat into your skin. His mouth, gosh, his mouth, kept pressing kisses against your temple, your shoulder, murmuring your name like a vow.
“You feel like heaven,” he whispered. “You always do.”
He thrust in again, slower this time, letting you feel every second of it.
It was unbearable. Perfect.
“I’m not going to stop,” he said, lips brushing your ear. “Not until you come on me. Not until you lose it again.”
Your moan was shattered, desperate, your body already tightening again, but still holding on.
You didn’t realize how tightly your legs were wrapped around him until he pulled back slightly, just enough to reposition. Just enough to press his hands beside your head and look down at you like you were the only thing left in the world.
His hair was damp, falling over his forehead in soft strands. His chest heaved above you, the muscles in his arms flexing with every movement. You could feel the pulse of him deep inside you, slow and steady as he held himself still for a moment. The warmth of him was overwhelming, your body still trembling from that drawn-out, ruined climax. Your skin is slick with sweat, every inch of you sensitive and straining.
You were breathless, your mouth parted, moaning softly without meaning to. One of your arms draped over his back, the other still tangled in his hair, not wanting him to move, not wanting him to stop.
He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours.
“I like this,” he whispered. “Like being on top like this.”
Your breath caught.
His hips rolled into you again, slow and deep, dragging a moan from both your lips. You felt everything. The stretch, the way his cock filled you so fully it bordered on too much, how your still-sensitive walls fluttered and clenched around him without permission.
Jay kissed you once, just the corner of your mouth. “I like seeing your face when I’m inside you. Like this. How pretty you look, falling apart for me. I always want to fuck missionary because of how beautiful your face is.”
“Jay,” you whimpered, the sound raw.
“I know,” he murmured. “I know, baby.”
His next thrust was deeper. Then deeper still. Not fast. Not yet. Just long, dragging movements that made your legs shake and your hands clutch at his back.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, voice nearly gone. “So wet. Still twitching around me. God, baby, fuck.”
He pushed in again, and your nails raked down his spine. You couldn’t help the whine that broke from your lips — your body already climbing again, tighter this time. Hotter. Sharper. Like your core knew it was allowed now and refused to be patient.
Jay groaned, low in his throat, his hips jerking once in response.
“Already?” he teased, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re getting close again, aren’t you?”
You nodded, eyes glassy. “Yes, please.”
Then his hands moved.
He caught your wrists and pressed them gently above your head, holding them in place with just one hand. His fingers wrapped around both your wrists, steady and warm, and the strength in his grip made your breath stutter.
“Stay,” he whispered. “Just let me take care of you.”
You gasped when he thrust again, this time harder, rougher, his pace shifting, faster now, driven by something deeper. The bed creaked beneath you with each motion, and the wet slap of skin against skin filled the room.
“Ah — fuck,” you cried, legs locking tighter around his waist.
He growled softly in your ear, teeth grazing your cheek. “God, baby, you sound so good. That voice, those little cries, I could lose my mind.”
You couldn’t look away from him. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and blown wide with heat, and even as his hips snapped into you with new intensity, there was nothing cruel in the way he moved.
Only devotion.
“I love this,” he said again, panting. “Watching you, feeling you. You’re so fucking tight, baby, I can feel everything.”
You moaned his name, over and over, as your body began to fall apart beneath him. Your legs trembled, your stomach coiled tight. You were so close. It was so much. It was him.
He kissed you through it, kissed you like he couldn’t breathe without your lips. Tongue against tongue, teeth grazing swollen skin, his other hand cradling your cheek even as your bodies slammed together over and over again.
You didn’t even realize you were crying until he kissed the tear off your cheek.
“Baby,” he gasped, “you’re gonna come again, aren’t you? You feel so close, your body’s shaking.”
“Please,” you whispered, broken. “Please, I need… need to—”
“I know,” he breathed. “I’ve got you. Let go. Come for me.”
Your orgasm hit with a force, nearly knocking the breath out of you, and he followed right after, warmth spilling deep inside you, a low groan breaking from him as he held you through it. It tore through you like a wave breaking over open flame — violent, desperate, beautiful. Your back arched, thighs trembling, and your body seized around him as stars burst behind your eyes.
“Fuck—” Jay groaned, voice wrecked. “That’s it. That’s it, baby. Let it out.”
You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
He whispered something, could’ve been your name, maybe, or just “I love you” over and over, kissing your face as your body shook with the aftershocks.
But he didn’t stop.
His hips kept moving, slower now, but steady, fucking you gently through the overstimulation, coaxing the last tremors from your core. You whimpered, clung to him, tears slipping freely down your cheeks as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you again.
He loosened his grip on your wrists and lowered his body fully onto yours, pressing warm kisses into your temple, your cheek, your jaw.
“You’re okay,” he murmured. “You’re doing so good, baby. So good for me.”
You nodded into his shoulder, chest heaving, soft sounds of aftershock whimpers still falling from your lips.
The tension slowly ebbs away, leaving only the quiet hum of the room between you.
He shifts first, easing the moment into something gentler, then settles beside you on the bed instead of over you. The mattress dips under his weight as he exhales, grounding himself beside you like he’s making sure you’re still there, still okay.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
His hand finds yours naturally, fingers threading in with an ease that feels familiar now, like it was always meant to be that way.
Then he exhales, a low, almost disbelieving sound, and lets his head tilt slightly toward you.
A faint, tired smile pulls at his mouth.
“You’re…” he starts, then stops, like the words don’t quite come out the way he intends.
His thumb rubs once over your knuckles, slower now.
“God,” he murmurs under his breath, almost to himself. “You’re really something.”
That makes the air between you soften even more.
He shifts closer, just enough that his shoulder brushes yours, and for a second he just looks at you — not like he’s trying to tease you anymore, not like earlier at all.
Then, quieter, and much more certain this time:
“Thank you, baby,” he says.
A slight pause.
His fingers tighten gently around yours, not possessive now, just steady.
“Seriously,” he adds, voice softer. “For tonight… for you.”
Another breath. A small shake of his head like he still can’t fully process it.
Then, almost like it slips out before he can overthink it:
“You’re the best thing I’ve gotten in a long time.”
The words sit in the air gently, no teasing behind them this time. Just sincerity.
Your chest warms at that, something softer settling in where all the intensity had been moments before.
He leans in slightly, pressing a light kiss to your temple, then your cheek, slow and unhurried, like he’s giving you time to come back to yourself completely.
“Come on,” he murmurs after a moment, voice still low but steady. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”
He stands first, then turns back immediately, offering you his hand without hesitation.
And when you take it, he doesn’t let go.
“Then I’ll tuck you into bed,” he adds, softer this time, like it’s a promise more than a mere suggestion.
The room settles into a softer quiet now, the kind that feels heavier in the best way — like the night is finally letting go of everything it was holding. The lamp on the bedside casts a warm glow over everything, blurring the edges of the night into something gentle.
He adjusts the blanket over you without thinking twice, tugging like it matters more than he’s willing to say.
“Comfortable?” he asks quietly.
You give a small, sleepy nod that barely counts as movement.
He huffs a soft laugh under his breath. “That’s not an answer.”
His thumb brushes absentmindedly against your arm, checking if you’re still there.
“It is,” you mumble, already halfway gone.
“Mm-hm,” he replies, clearly unconvinced, but there’s no real argument in his tone. Just fondness.
You shift slightly closer anyway, like your body makes the decision before your mind does, and he immediately responds, arm slipping more securely around you like it’s an instinct of his.
“Don’t start moving around too much,” he says, voice low and warm. “You were literally seconds away from falling asleep.”
“I wasn’t,” you whisper, even though your eyes are already heavy again.
That earns him a quiet laugh, softer this time, almost affectionate.
“Right,” he says. “You’re wide awake.”
His gaze lingers on you for a second longer than necessary, softer now, like he’s memorizing this version of you.
You crack one eye open at him. “I am, silly.”
He looks down at you for a second, expression unreadable in that way that makes it feel like he’s holding back a smile.
“Okay,” he says. “Then what day is it?”
“…your birthday,” you answer after a pause.
A beat.
His hand tightens just slightly around you, your answer mattering more than it should’ve.
He exhales a small laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Close enough. I’ll take it.”
You make a faint sound of protest, but it doesn’t have any strength behind it.
“You’re mean,” you mumble.
“I’m not mean, baby,” he corrects gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, slower this time. “I just pay attention and I’m a very observant person.”
That makes you fall quiet again, your head pressing more firmly into his chest.
A softer pause settles between you.
Then, quieter, more sincere:
“You’re really warm,” you admit.
He hums softly, his hand shifting just enough to pull you closer without thinking.
“Yeah?” he murmurs. “Good. Stay there then.”
You don’t argue this time.
Your breathing slows gradually, syncing with his before you even realize it, like your body already knows where it belongs.. His hand moves slowly along your back, steady and grounding, like he’s making sure you stay exactly where you are.
“You know,” he says after a while, voice low but playful again, “you can’t sleep through breakfast tomorrow.”
His voice carries a quiet smile, even if you can’t fully hear it anymore.
You let out a tiny, sleepy sigh. “I can try.”
He laughs softly. “Of course you can.”
A pause.
“But you’re not winning that one, I swear.”
You don’t respond, already drifting too far into sleep to care, and he notices immediately.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, softer now, like he doesn’t want to wake you even with his voice. “You’re actually done for.”
His grip on you tightens just slightly, protective, instinctive.
He leans down and presses a slow kiss to your hair, lingering longer this time, like he’s reluctant to even pull away.
“Goodnight,” he says softly.
Then, after a beat, quieter, like a promise meant only for you:
“Don’t go anywhere,” he murmurs, quieter now — it’s less of a request, but more on something actually he needs.
And just like that, you’re asleep in his arms.
He stays awake a little longer, just watching you, thumb brushing slow circles against your back, like he’s memorizing the way you breathe when you’re finally at peace.
jay looks offended, deeply offended, and if they handed out oscars for the most disturbed-looking husband on a random thursday afternoon, he would’ve walked up to that stage with a speech memorized. no hesitation.
he lowers the hammer in his hand, lets it drop onto the half-assembled desk with a dull clunk, and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, smearing a bit of sawdust across his temple.
“i literally married you,” he says, breathless, as he steps near you, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“yeah but people marry people,” you sigh, putting on a faux sad expression, “but do you really love me—”
“darling, i’m literally building you a wooden vanity closet,” he cuts you quick in your sentence, his eyes wide, “and it has been three hours now. i wouldn’t do that for anyone else.”
you press your lips together to keep from laughing. “you look good doing it though.”
his jaw ticks, he knows not to lose his patience, especially when you are all cute and testing it. he still thinks your question is ridiculous, of course he loves you. he loves you way more than the effort he’s putting in the vanity, and it’s not even one percent of what he’d do for you.
“my back hurts.” he sighs yet again
“because you love me?” “because i’m married to you,” he deadpans, rolls his eyes and strawls closer to you.
you pout. it’s exaggerated, a little playful. “so you don’t love me?”
jay huffs, then drops to his knees in front of you with a thud, on the bed. his hands settle on your thighs, sawdust and all, and his fingers press into your skin gently, grounding.
he looks up. his eyes are warm, but serious. intense, even.
“you drive me insane,” he murmurs. “you leave the shower light on. you forget where your charger is every day. you sing off-key when you think i’m not listening.”
you breathe stops, and before you can muster up a sentence, he says again.
“and i love you like i’m sick with it.”
you feel like your stops, with blood rushing up to your cheeks you really don’t know if you can handle this anymore. his thumb brushes over your knee.
“and if you say dumb shit like that again,” he says, voice low, “i might have to marry you again, just to prove a point.”
you open your mouth, ready to sass him back, but he leans in before you can.
his hand finds your waist, warm and rough from hours of sanding wood. his other hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he’s mapping it out. like he missed it all day. like he needed this more than food or rest or sanity.
and then he kisses you. not a soft peck. not a tired brush of lips. it’s full. warm. deliberate.
his mouth slides against yours like he’s finally off the clock, like this is his reward — the only thing that makes the bruised knees and splinters and forgotten lunch worth it.
your fingers twist into his shirt instinctively. his thumb brushes down the side of your neck as his lips move against yours with something a little hungry, a little breathless, but still so stupidly in love.
you pull away for air, lips tingling, chest rising in soft, quick breaths. your fingers are still fisted in his shirt, and he looks up at you like you just knocked the wind out of him — which, to be fair, you did.
jay’s lips are red, a little kiss-swollen, and he’s breathing just as hard.
you blink, lips tingling. “so, i guess, you really do love me?”
“i love you when you talk too much,” he continues against your lips, grinning, “and when you ask dumb questions, like if i still love you.”
you let out a tiny gasp, equal parts amused and overwhelmed, and he pulls you even closer, your forehead pressed to his. your hands rest on his shoulders, thumbs brushing the slope of his neck.
“hey,” you whine softly, but he leans forward again and steals another kiss before you can complain further — short, warm, like a punctuation mark.
“i spend three hours building a closet,” he continues, kisses the corner of your mouth, “you sit here looking like a whole heart attack—” another kiss, this time near your chin, “—and then you ask—” kiss “—me—” kiss “—if i—” kiss “love you?” another kiss.
you laugh into his shoulder, hands slipping up into his hair, heart stopping “i just wanted to hear it.”
his lips curl, lazy and crooked. “you’re so annoying,” he mutters
your breath catches as he rests his forehead against yours, noses brushing, full of love. “god,” he mutters, eyes still closed, “you drive me insane,” he chuckles again like a reminder.
“you like it,” you whisper, a chuckle falling on your lips.
he smiles, just a little. then, without letting go of you, he sinks to the floor.
kneels. infront of you.
his arms wrap around your waist, cheek pressing softly to your thigh. he exhales against the fabric of your shorts, like being close to you settles everything.
you run your fingers through his hair, slow. comforting. he hums under his breath, content and quiet, letting his body relax against your leg.
“this okay?” he sighs, his lips tickling your skin as he grins on it.
you nod, resting your hand on his cheek. “yeah,” you smile. “more than okay.”
his lashes flutter as he closes his eyes again.
and there you sit, a half-finished vanity in the corner, a husband with sawdust on his arms and love in every touch, and a kiss still tingling on your lips like a promise that never gets old.
your heartbeat is still racing a little. his breaths are slower now. calm. heavy.
“i love you,” he says eventually, voice muffled and slept against your thigh.
you smile. bend forward and kiss the top of his head, “i know. i love you more.”
스루 ܃ uploading this from my college library .. chem i hate you 😞 feedbacks are very much appreciated !