PLEASE More Nsfw Links 🤭🤭🤭

bigger picture. 

PAIRING... ceo!sunghoon x model!reader | GENRE... childhood friends to lovers!, romance, fluff, humor | WC... 1.3k | lots of bickering, loosely based off love next door (2024)

you breathe in the fresh air with a pleased expression. this was home. it’s been years since you’ve visited, always overseas doing work. your schedule was constantly packed with shoots and campaigns taking up most of your time (and life), essentially never giving you rest time to come back. 

you finally did it. 

maybe your mom would kill you—but that was a later problem. 

especially since you hadn’t told her of your return. 

your suitcase clatters on the rough pavement while you drag it along. your eyes wander around the street you grew up on. strangely enough, it was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. 

you stop at a building, feeling the sense of nostalgia wash over you. wasn’t this the old community pool? the one you used to visit all the time with-

you squint as you look closer to the construction sign posted on the door. 

under construction: contact park industries for more information. 

you frown. they were turning this place into something else? what a shame. you two practically grew up at this musty pool. 

“i wonder who decided to renovate this area-“

a confused calling of your name stops you in your tracks. it was a deep voice, yet a familiar one nevertheless. 

slowly, you turn in your tracks. your mouth drops open. 

“park sunghoon?! what are you doing here?”

last you heard, he was getting his masters. he looks quite, you swallow, polished in that perfectly styled suit and gelled hair of his. 

he pushes up his glasses by the nose bridge, eyes glinting as he studies you. “this is my building.”

your eyes bulge momentarily, “this is your building?! wha-wait. you own park industries?”your finger points accusatorially at him. 

“as bright as ever,” he notes while narrowing his eyes at you. you scoff immediately, crossing your arms. 

“as snooty as ever,” you snarkily reply back. you instinctively raise a fist at him while he shrinks back. perhaps the situation finally hits the both of you, as silence falls and he clears his throat. 

“you… you’re back.” he glances at your suitcase and then at you. “my mother never mentioned anything about you coming home.”

you internally cringe, pretending to scratch the back of your head. you laugh albeit awkwardly. 

“oh, really? that is weird. i just, uh-“

the sound of familiar voices approaching cause your stomach to drop. you could recognize the sound of your parents’ voices anywhere. of course, in this small neighborhood, you had to bump into them right now. 

you were screwed.

frantically, you eyes scan the area. aha—you were a genius. you fly towards an empty, large box near the entrance to sunghoon’s building. you can only hope it was used for furniture and not trash. 

“what are you-“

you glance up at him and his perplexed expression. “please. just this once.”

and with that, you flip it over and fly under the box to hide. thank goodness it didn’t smell weird. you hear muffled voices of delight as your families spot sunghoon. 

“oh, it’s been so long! are you working on this building?”

you hear him chuckle and roll your eyes. what a sucker for parents. if only they knew his true personality. 

“yes, auntie. i came to check on the construction progress.” 

you hear your mom laugh. your heart pangs as you realize you haven’t heard that sound in forever. 

“oh, you must be so busy as the ceo. we won’t bother you anymore but you have to come soon for dinner!”

“but uh,” your dad sounds confused, “who’s suitcase is this?”

you curse. 

“what was that?”

sunghoon quickly laughs, harshly kicking the box you were under as you hiss. “oh, don’t worry about that! it’s my luggage—you know, i have to start moving into the office here soon. i thought i would get a head start-mhm. you know-“

you were starting to sweat crouching in this box. but sunghoon was moving his office back home, you note. interesting. 

thankfully, your parents leave sunghoon at that and you finally try to lift the box. you grunt, pushing up but to no avail. 

“sunghoon,” you grit your teeth, “if you don’t get off the box in the next minute i will actually kill you when i get out.” 

finally, you’re able to push the box off you with a huff and a glare. 

“i think you should be thanking me.”

one of his perfect eyebrows raises up at you and you want to smack him. unfortunately, he was right though. you sigh, still sitting on the floor. 

sunghoon sighs. “you should really tell your family, you know? they barely see you as is. 

you bite your lip. of course he knew. you had grown up with each other for twenty years. 

“i don’t know why you’re suddenly back, but they deserve to know.”

“alright, alright,” you stand up while dusting yourself off, “i get it mister ceo.”

he makes an offended noise. with a sigh, you grab your suitcase and begin unzipping it. 

“what now?” he doesn’t sound surprised. sunghoon was immune to your antics. 

you take out jacket after jacket, even forcing him to hold some for you. “you know,” you start casually while putting on coats in the dead middle of summer, “safety precautions.”

“so this is the country’s top model, huh?”

you cough, “well…”

“what?” 

you look away, avoiding eye contact. “it’s just a break, for now….”

“who knows? your fiancé?” he shoves his hands in his pockets, studying the floor with an unreadable expression. you eye him warily. 

“yeah, right. i broke it off. it was all for show, anyway. you know the media eats it up.”

sunghoon suddenly glances at you with genuine concern reflected in his eyes. you don’t like it.

“so, you’re saying you broke off your engagement and quit your job?“

“temporarily!” you yell, irritated. he was getting on your nerves again. 

“you should go find your family.” 

“stop telling me what to do, hoon.”

you say it so nonchalantly but it never fails to make him shiver. especially since it’s been so long since he last heard you say that. 

it’s been so long since he’s last seen you, really. when your modeling career took off and you left to travel the world, he thought he’d never see you again. all he knew was your photoshoots online and news from the media. especially when your relationship with a top actor was announced, he didn’t expect an invitation to your wedding. 

certainly he didn’t expect to see you here, right now, standing in front of him. just like back when you two first met all those years ago. 

“what?” you call out, breaking him out of his trance. “you wanna fight? you know you’ll lose.”

sunghoon sighs, checking his shiny watch. “unlike you, most people have jobs. i’m a bit busy, so…”

you roll your eyes again, “as if.” 

and with that, you jump him. literally. 

despite the (saddening) height difference, one of your arms is tightly locked around his neck as he splutters. 

“this is what you get for keeping me in that box. i was dying in there you little piece of-!”

just barely, sunghoon manages to use his strength to pull away. he gasps and coughs as you tap your foot with a rather intimidating stare.

you two make eye contact for a good minute or so, before you turn with a humph to grab your suitcase and continue on. 

“this isn’t over, hoon.”

“why me?” he mutters under his breath before making his way to his building slash future office. 

what neither of you two realize is the unconscious smiles plastered on both of your faces. 

a/n ▸ aghhshdhesn ngl posting three days in a row was so weird i can’t keep up 💀ne ways did i write this with the intention of making a part two? that’s up to you to decide :)

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

@hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @who-tf-soddhi

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy

@ashtxrie @isoobie @mireyaaaaaaaaa @choppedballoondetective

send a message to be added to the taglist!

why is my doctor flirting with me

---

LEE HEESEUNG FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted

since my fic recs are super popular on my nct blog, I decided to start on this blog! fics with less words and less plot/more smut are near the bottom of the list.

i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

let's collab [ camboy!heeseung x camgirl!reader] s

lee heeseung - the brother's best friend trope, part two [ brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

only if you say yes [ enemies to fwb au ] s,f,a

traces of you. [ loser!heeseung x tutor!reader ] s,f,a

cherry [ pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f,a

you plus me [ ex-friend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

tides of regret [ ex bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

coffee & cream [ virgin!heeseung x virgin fem!reader ] s,f,a

falling alone [ lieutenant!heeseung x therapist housewife!reader, strained marriage au ] s,f,a

player rank: platinum [ simp gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, sister's bf au ] s,a

only if you say yes (please say yes) [ enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

two's a company [ incompatible friend!heeseung x fem!reader, forced proximity au] s

i offer you my everything [ basketball captain!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f

m.o.r.e. - my only ruined escape [husband's!friend x fem!reader, toxic marriage au ] s,f,a

not if it's you, part two [ nerd!heeseung x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f,a

racing, beating [ illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader, arranged marriaged au ] s

one hundred and one [ little brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,a

how to get back at your ex [ ex!heeseung x fem!reader, coworkers au ] s,f,a

what you need [ boyfriend's friend!heeseung x fem!reader, roommates au ] s,a

you make me [ stranger!heeseung x insomniac!reader ] suggestive

wrong doings [ stepdad!heeseung x stepdaughter!reader ] s,a

cross the line [ childhood best friends to lovers ] s,f

prince charming's mismatch [ prince!heeseung x princess!reader ] suggestive

pool party [ brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader, pool party au ] s,f,a

saint matthew's academy [toxic rich!heeseung x innocent!reader, private school au ] s,f,a

playground crush [ neighbor!heeseung x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s

as long as you'll let me [ virgin!heeseung x badgirl!reader ] s

i hate you [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f

the space between [ rich basketball player!reader x flowershop owner!reader ] s,f,a

give it time [ inexperienced!heeseung x jake's sister!reader ] s

conflict of interest [ pool cleaner!heeseung x rich fem!reader ] s

heavenly [ established relationship, stuck inside due to storm au ] s

“just sit on my lap, it’ll be fine” [ gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, no nut november au ] s

two moons [ plug!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

want [ boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader, first time au ] s

tethered [ emo!heeseung x fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers au ] s,a

mine or yours? [ stepbrother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

helping hand [ bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

let me show you [ experienced friend!heeseung x inexperienced fem!reader ] s,f

the girl from the bar [ bartender!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f

easy access [ ex!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,a

a sucker for the taste [ experienced husband!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f

apple cider [ roommate!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

something new [ established relationship au ] s

taste [ munch!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

90 days of pleasure [ enemies to lovers ] s,f,a

teddy bear pajamas [ heeseung x jay's sister!reader ] s

surprise [ established relationship au ] s

plushies and headsets [ bestfriend!heeseung x petite!reader ] s

addicted [roommate!heeseung x tutor!reader ] s

wet [ water gun fight au ] s

road trip [ friend!heeseung x fem!reader, smut in car w friends ] s

diet pepsi [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s

the love game [ gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, established relationship ] s,f

wet dreams [ roommate!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

attention [ gamer boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

tasty [ bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

breaking free [ stoner!heeseung x fem!reader ] suggestive,f,a

forced roommates or forced to be lovers? [ popular pervy!gamer heeseung x popular cheerleader!reader ] s,f

homecoming [ idol!heeseung x fem!reader, established relationship ] s

Written

Pairing: Aomine Daiki x Reader

Warning(s): Cursing

Soulmate AU

Part 1 of ???

Authors Note: Once again, I am a simp.

"What... the fuck?" It was a whisper. Breathed like a soft prayer and not the distressed exclamation that it was.

"What the fuck?" You said with a bit more gusto, hands pressing into cheeks. The warmth flooding your body was making you almost nauseous.

You could see your thoughts starting to loop around the athletes body in your handwriting, uniquely light against his complexion. 'Why is he so pretty?' and 'For fucks sake.' being the first two you registered. And then your brain just... exploded.

'I bet his hair is so soft.'

'Do not think about how pretty his eyes are.'

'Since when do high schoolers have arms like that-- fuck!'

"Oh my God, Y/N." The panic and embarassment you were feeling must have been radiating, because Aida snorted out a laugh next to you as you hid your face in your hands.

"If I don't look at him it'll stop, right?" You asked desperately, and the tension from the match was momentarily broken as she cackled.

"I don't think that's how it works." You groaned at her teasing.

"Oi!" Your head jerked up, a screech building in your throat to see Aomine giving you an annoyed look from across the court.

"Can you relax? This is stupid distracting." He gestured vaguely to himself, apparently unbothered as the game carried on around him. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but drag your gaze up and down his form, biting your lower lip.

'It sure fucking is.' He looked down as the words scrawled out on his forearm, barking out a sound that resembled laughter and clearly fighting off a smirk as he rolled his eyes.

"Sorry!" You called out, a little hoarse and he scoffed.

》 Part Two

crush (l. hs)

creep—> pairing. heeseung x female reader

genre. friends older brother AU, explicit smutty smut: filth, the smallest pinch of fluff, M/F

warnings. profanity, alcohol consumption, mild slut shaming, mean dom Heeseung, getting caught, jealousy, choking, oral, breeding, possessiveness, rough unprotected sex. minors DNI.

wc. 5000 now playing. Crush/Jennifer Paige

“surprised you didn’t end up stealing Heeseung’s boxers to keep as some prized treasure.”

“dude seriously? I don’t have a thing for your brother.”

“oh I know. this lifelong crush you’ve had turned into an infatuation years ago.”

conversation with your friend repeated throughout your thoughts for the rest of the week. picking out a new fragrance while asking yourself if Heeseung preferred fruity or floral. prepping cute outfits to wear in case he happens to be home when you head over to study. testing out new hairstyles, maybe he likes how your hair looks up better.

it’s not like everything you do depends on his reaction. it’s just a crush.

at least, you try to convince yourself that it’s just a crush. the problem is Heeseung seems to have forgotten you even exist.

none of the bait you throw out catches your prey. he hasn’t spoken to you once, let alone looked your way; even when you stand right before him he stays adamant in the most inconspicuous of ways to not meet your desperate gaze.

how you went from a silent playful game of chase with suggestive gestures— even just in passing, to nothing at all had really turned your brain upside down.

it shouldn’t bother you, he’s just some guy, some guy who gave you the best orgasm you fear no one will ever be able to top. some guy who’s made you act foolish, purposely dropping your keys before heading back home when you spotted Heeseung sitting on the couch playing video games. even the sad effort of wiggling your ass— intentionally exposed as you took time to pat around for your keys wasn’t enough.

you shouldn’t care, but maybe you do, because whether you admit it or not, you want him. you only want him.

because you have a crush on Heeseung.

Heeseung’s home now, not that it matters. not that you matter to him.

his face never turns to see who’s sat in the living room with his sister, he has to know it’s you. he has to know it’s always you these days; becoming a regular guest ever since he caught you. maybe he had a point— you’re a creep.

“you’re coming to the party this Friday, right?” thoughts disintegrate when your friend snaps her fingers in your face with an annoyed look. “are you even listening to me? I hate when you zone out like that.”

“sorry..” you mumble, quickly sitting up straight in act of pretending you could care less about Heeseung’s presence. not fast enough for his sister to not notice, glancing over her shoulder and rolling her eyes when she spots him by the door.

“as I was saying, Heeseung’s throwing a little get together.” 

it’s hard enough to hide your sudden interest in what she’s saying, twitching at the corners of your lips to control a possible squeal from passing, you nod with lack of care for her to continue.

“you’re coming right? all the guys will be there.”

“sure, what’s the occasion?”

“it’s nothing really,” she scoffs under her breath, ducking her chin with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “he’s trying to impress some girl he’s been obsessed with.”

the jump your throat gives only seems to amuse her even more, twirling the straw in her cup deviously as she goes on. “I guess it’s her last summer here before she heads off to University across the world somewhere. he’s doing the most to swoon her.”

“she’s older than him?” you can’t fight the urge to ask, too curious to learn more. since when does Lee Heeseung get a crush?! why would he even give you the time of day if he had his mind on someone else. 

“yeah, her names Mia, really pretty. out of his league if you ask me.”

Mia. really pretty. older. full of confidence you clearly lack. she glides along the backyard deck like some type of ethereal goddess beckoning suitors to her call at a glance alone.

of course Heeseung likes her, of course he wants to impress her, of course he’s been ignoring you. 

that’s really all you can think of huddled between your group of friends, hiding the lower half of your face behind a red solo cup filled with tepid water as you do your best to control your emotions from flying off the handles. 

no amount of cute outfits and pretty new hairstyles would impress him, you’d always just be his younger sister's friend who gazed at him like you’d give up your world for his attention, because maybe you would.

“what are you even wearing?” one of your friends interrupts your thoughts, giving you the up and down with a snarky smirk.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“your ass is nearly hanging out,” she notes, wagging a pointer finger over your figure. “someone’s trying to get laid tonight.”

“that shouldn’t be too hard.” Heeseung’s sister approaches sporting an uncomfortable wide smile. “Sunghoon’s been cracking jokes that you’re an underwear thief.”

“what?!” you gape, nearly spilling and tossing your cup. 

“sorry!” she waves in the direction where her brother’s friends stand near each other. their heads thrown back letting out obnoxious loud laughter pointing, the tallest amongst them pointing toward you.

“that’s her! pervert little creep that stole Heeseung’s boxers!” Sunghoon exclaims for everyone around to hear. all eyes fall on you, including ones you haven’t felt on yourself in weeks. 

Heeseung stands by Mia, leaning back on his forearms against the fence lining the deck. the pose giving him a laid back cocky aura as if he could care less about how attractive the girl next to him looks.

the girl next to him who also happens to now have noticed you, squinting fiercely as she takes you in. tightening up her hold on the half empty bottle in her clutches, she tilts her head, turning back to face Heeseung. lips moving slowly in a rigid impassive manner. 

the annoyance prickling through her expression only amuses him, smirking before he flicks her chin to make her giggle. the entire act is absolutely sickening to watch, churning your stomach full of water in a nausea inducing way.

“I need a drink.” you blurt, charging toward where a keg sits between 2 set up tables full of energy drinks, shots and various half empty bottles of clear alcohol. 

one problem, you realize— fiddling with the keg in front of you; you don’t drink.

“need help with that, princess?”

his husky vocals tickle the shell of your ear before you can let out a gasped breath, weighty palms settle on your hips, firm chest brushing against your back. “you’re kind of creating a line of people now.”

a look over your shoulder displays 3 people standing in irritation, 1 tapping their foot waving an empty cup at you. 

Jay nudges your lower half, tapping the tip of his nose against the column of your throat. “don’t know how to use that thing, do you?”

“is it that obvious?”

“cute.” Jay huffs out a laugh, maneuvering you to his side. “you have to disengage the tap like this baby.”

he goes on explaining, showing off his bare biceps with extra flex as he turns the tap clockwise. “nice and snug, like that.”

Jay nods, instructing you to tip your cup. “look at how fast you’re learning. see you want to tilt it just right, too much foam is never good.”

“thanks..” 

the beer tastes foul splashing on your tongue regardless of the amount of foam, not even your handsome bartender could help that. 

“don’t like the taste, huh?” Jay smirks, nudging your side. “didn’t think you drank?”

“I don’t.” you confirm, covering your mouth to spit back into your cup. “I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy this.”

“maybe beer’s not your vibe.” he looks over the table, snapping his fingers as he lands on a bottle of blue raspberry vodka. “someone as sweet as you needs something just as sugary.”

“why do you know so much about this?” you wonder, mostly admiring how strong his side profile looks as he concentrates on decorating the rims on two shot glasses with crystalized sugar. 

“you think I could afford to look this good if I didn’t have a bus boy gig on the side?” he grins, filling the two small glasses with a much too bright blue liquid. “I’m trying to get bumped up to a bartender position, better tips.”

turning to face you, he lifts up a slice of lime cut into a triangle. “so don’t forget to tip. I’ll go first.”

with a wink, Jay sets the lime between your lips softly laughing at the surprise crossing your eyes with confusion. dabbing a line of salt on your collarbone, he lifts a shot glass motioning ‘this is how you do it.’

“lick it” he leans in, the waft of freshly washed skin dosed in musky cologne hitting your senses. a wet glide from his tongue drags across your decollate, lapping up the small chunks of salt. “slam it.” 

his throat bobs, strong neck on display as he tosses his head back to swallow down the blue that already has your gut on fire in anticipation, worsening when your pseudo bar tender’s eyes clenched shut from the burn passing down his throat. “and suck it.”

Jay’s mouth crashes against yours with more force than he planned, too excited to shove the lime away and nip at your lips in hopes to snag a kiss. he does exactly that, pushing the slice away with the tip of his tongue in favor of sucking on your lower lip. strong grip returning to your hips to knead at as he pushes closer to your response, parting open for him to explore inside and find your tongue. blue raspberry mixed with bitterness lands in a mix of saliva, battling together for more of a taste.

“what the fuck are you doing?”

Heeseung shoves at Jay’s shoulder, breaking the two of you apart with a sharp scowl drowning his typically pretty features in anger. 

“what? you said you didn’t care!” Jay glowers in return, tossing his friends touch away. “you have Mia to worry about, don’t you?”

Heeseung’s pupils expand faster than he can speak, twitching between his finger tips to control himself from balling up his fist and sending Jay down to the ground. “she’s my sister’s friend, I told you, don’t.”

“she can speak for herself.” Jay nods, tugging you closer to his side by your waist. “am I bothering you, princess?”

Heeseung’s jaw tightens at the nickname, turning to look away to quill raged annoyance racing up his chest. 

he has someone else to worry about.. he likes someone else, someone who’s nothing like you.

“you’re not bothering me..”

“did you hear that Heeseung?” Jay asks, more cocky now with his brow cocked. the other shaking his head before storming off without another word. “don’t think about it.”

Jay does good on distracting you, asking if you got the step by step process or if he should demonstrate one more time. 

“I think I got it, I’m just going to run to the restroom really quick.” you let him know, signaling to give you a minute before spinning to head inside of the house. 

ice cold water rivers down your front, suctioning the material of your flimsy party dress to your flesh. trickles falling down to your feet landing between your toes, drenching through the front of your underwear.

“oh my God!” Mia stands before you, cup in hand near empty as her other lifts to cover her mouth in shock. “my mistake!”

she laughs, dumping the rest of the cup's contents above your head. the chill passing by suddenly much more cold, setting a shiver up your spine. “I’m sure you could find a pair of boxers to dry yourself off with, slut.”

she grins proudly, throwing the plastic solo cup at your feet before turning around, retreating to her group of giggling friends mocking you like a group of children.

Heeseung’s sister rushes over to cover your front, stammering out an apology while directing you into the house quickly. “you can clean off in my room, grab whatever you want to change into from my closet.”

she pushes for you to head up the stairs, mumbling about throwing your clothes in the dryer before you leave. “I’m gonna go find out who told Sunghoon about the dare, and ruin their night!”

she storms off on a mission, leaving you to sulk your way up to her bedroom. a necessity to sit down on the edge of her bed to not get anything wet as you sigh and hang your head. 

this night had been too much already, from Heeseung flirting with Mia, to Jay flirting with you, to Sunghoon turning your fond memory into a joke. had Heeseung been the one to share what happened with his friends? would he seriously gossip like that?

“and now my hair’s ruined.” forcing yourself to stand, you take in your soaked appearance. the damage is a lot less worse than you expected, just a smidge of teary eyeliner trailing down your cheek, easy to wipe off. stripping off your dress by rolling the wet fabric down your body, you wonder why you even bothered. 

it’s not as if Heeseung showed any interest in you after he got what he wanted, as far as he’s concerned you fell off the face of the earth to be long forgotten. 

clearly you were just a quick fuck. 

silently you nod to yourself, dabbing off your cooled skin with a towel. panties clinging to your center uncomfortably wet in a way you hadn’t expected tonight. contemplating the thought of going commando for the next couple of hours while your clothes dry off, you could always wash whatever you borrowed later.

the door creaks open right as you decide to forego your panties, snapping your attention to Heeseung’s face poking in as if he hadn’t expected to catch you like this.

“oh..” he stalks inside regardless, shrugging while clicking the door shut. “nothing I haven’t seen.”

“get out!” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes, crossing his arms leaning back against his sister’s closet door. “you’ve been pining for my attention all night, now you have it and you want me to leave? why? because I’m not Jay?”

“I haven’t been trying to get your attention.” you correct, moreso lie. pressing the towel to your chest to conceal some of your skin, too exposed under his heaty gaze.

“you don’t even like him like that.” he says, turning up his chin arrogantly. 

“like what?”  

Heeseung’s tongue pokes out, dragging along the seam of his lips. “the way you like me.”

a scoff flies out of your mouth before you realize, taking your turn to roll your eyes. “I don’t like you in any type of way.”

Hesseung doesn’t miss his chance to invade your space, capturing your jaw with one hand to make your neck crack, forcing your gaze to focus on his. “because you haven’t been coming around almost everyday for your bullshit crafting sessions suddenly? bending over in front of me in the tiniest piece of fabric barely covering your ass pathetic excuse for a skirt? staring at me while drool spills out of your mouth like some horny puppy?”

your hands circle his wrist, struggling under the grip he keeps secured on you. “never did any of that you fucking pervert.”

Heeseung lets out just a hint of a laugh, licking his bottom lip before he leans closer, long neck bending into meet you eye level. “what type of idiot do you take me for? you think I’ve already forgotten how you cried and begged on my cock?”

“I didn’t beg.” you spit out, lying through your teeth. a lick of excitement curls through your chest, surging its way through your veins to the tips of your fingers. an unfortunate uncontrollable reaction to the close proximity of his pink saliva coated lips hovering just above yours.

“do you need the reminder?” his cheek lifts to one side, pulling off the signature shit-eating smirk you’ve obsessed over through sleepless nights with a pillow lodged between your thighs. his thumb inches up to your pout, pressing down the center of your lower lip with a rough dig. “I can show you, but the way you chant my name like a prayer sounds much prettier.”

“Heeseung..” 

“that’s it..” he smiles, softly, chest rising and falling to contain a sigh. the syrupy sweet whiny way you let out each syllable of his name playing over and over like a broken record each time he finds himself with a fist wrapped around his cock. even resorting to bury his face into one of his pillowcases still lingering with traces of your shampoo.

“Heeseung..” you repeat, laving at his thumb. a low moan escaping your throat from the taste alone, not because it’s good, but because it’s him; the object of your every desire toying with you the way you need.

“you say my name like you want me. like you only want me.” his thumb presses in, releasing the towel free of your grip to land at your feet. inching in closer until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his sister’s bed. the reminder shooting your eyes open, shaking your head.

“shh shh, everyone's partying.” he reassures, sliding messy bits of your hair behind your ear while lowering you to lay back. “don’t think about anyone else, it’s just us.”

Heeseung roams your exposed figure, sucking in a deep breath observing your chest rise and fall faster the longer he feels over your thighs. curious hands trail upward to squeeze and pull at your hips, digging his fingers into your waist. “I gave you what you wanted and you’re still so pathetically desperate, spreading your thighs open begging me to give you more.”

“Heeseung..”

his eyelashes flutter, fanning the tops of his cheeks as he tips his neck back. palming down your sides to loop the strings of your underwear through his fingers. “you know what to say, good girls don’t need to be told twice.”

“please?” you ask, agonizingly so, defeated without even trying. plotting and planning for weeks the different scenarios that could land you under his menacing hands once again. 

Heeseung knows you’ve been putting in work to get his attention. nearly snapping when he saw you bent over badly pretending to search for something on the floor. the perfect position to fuck you right there, push your face into the ground and claim you as if you belong to him, because in his mind, you do.

he tsks, tongue clicking loudly against the backs of his teeth, spreading your thighs apart to watch your cunt pulsate. the thin material covered in your arousal doing a poor job of concealing anything. tracing a pathway up your inner thighs, he grips at the tender flesh surrounding your underwear. pulling and kneading you to make your hole open and close under the material. a loud pop of wetness emitting with each movement, sending his neck side to side as he admires.

“you get wet like this for anyone else?” Heeseung rasps, throat already betraying him. having to swallow down a wad of saliva to calm himself.

“only you.” you confess, too pent up to force a lie anymore.

“I know.” he muses, biting his lower lip to wash away the smirk threatening to pull at his lips. tugging the seat of your underwear to the side, he kisses the backs of his teeth, pushing a finger between your slit. “I know you’ve been waiting, prancing around all dolled up wishing I’d fuck you again.”

each word sinks your chest deeper into the bed, worrying your eyebrows together as you nod. hips canting upward for more, only for his other hand to splay across your stomach and push you back down. “stay like this, you don’t deserve it after what you just pulled.”

“I’m sorry..I..didn’t..” whimpers break your speech, trembling as he slots between your thighs sinking two fingers inside of you. pushing them apart to stretch you open, unable to contain a hiss from how tight you wrap around his digits.

“yes you did.” he corrects, biting on his lip to stop himself from cracking. “you can speak for yourself, can’t you? you know what you did.”

a hushed curse melts under your tongue, squirming when he shoves another finger in. frantically shaking your head with a sob, letting a shattered denying whimpered out. 

“it wasn’t enough last time. you need to learn your lesson.” 

Heeseung moves swiftly, knees hitting the ground to latch his mouth on your clit. the three digits inside of you setting a drilling speed bowing your back up into an arch. the furl hitting you intensely, snapping your spine up into a perfect curve. 

“fuck!” each roll of his tongue against your clit charges through your nerves. fingers dripping in your arousal, pushing out filthy lewd sounds the harder and faster he mercilessly pumps them. gushes of wetness pour freely, dribbling down the the inside of his forearm.

Heeseung doesn’t relent, licking fat strips between your folds, noisy as he slurps up the mess of slick coating your outer lips. his fingers curling inside of you, pushing your climax to hit faster with lips pursed together on your clit. 

“taste so good for me.” he vibrates against your bundle of nerves. the tips of his fingers pressing hard against a spot deep inside of you pushing the heels of your feet to dig into the bed, shouting between gritted teeth.

“I’m—I’m!” words die in your throat, the palm flattened on your stomach reaching up to grab your breasts, ripping the cups of your bra down to watch your chest bounce as you shake through an orgasm. white hot heat burns at your retinas, clenching your eyes shut with a whine when Heeseung continues to lap and press at your sensitive clit, his digits releasing with a wet pop. leisurely dragging the mess of your release across your inner thighs.

“so fucking nasty.” he says, trailing his tongue up to paint saliva on top of the wetness covering you. “only I should get to see you like this.”

teeth nip at your inner thighs, grabbing onto your ruined underwear to throw aside. clothes fly off his body, stroking himself a few times to full hardness, returning a desperate ache to pulsate between your legs.

Heeseung mounts you immediately, dick twitching in his palm the more time he spends staring at your pilant figure. helplessly gazing up at him looming over you. knocking your knees apart to set himself between you, the tip of his cock prods at your entrance. one hand secured at the base to not fuck fully into you. “so pretty for me.”

“Hee..” your voice trembles, whining even so. unable to stop yourself from groveling. a sad thirsty puppy with your tongue hung loose, needy pants blowing out. the image of your already fucked out face shooting pangs of heat through Heeseung’s chest, pushing the tip in more to watch your entrance struggle around his size. 

“I know.” he finally pushes in more, catching a gasped breath halfway. velvety walls trap him, wet, hot and so so wet, the sensation pushing a groan from the back of his throat. “so fucking good, feel so good for me.”

Heeseung buries into the hilt, cutting off a choked moan expelled from your chest. his cock stretching you open exactly as you remembered, replayed nightly. shuffling closer, his hips roll against you, placing a hand on your throat to keep you in place. dragging out slowly to slam back in, growing addicted to the way you spasm around him. 

he sets a gruelling pace right off, thrust after thrust pounding into your pilant body, pushing your mind to drift further and further away. “this is what happens when you forget who you belong to.”

his breath grows long-winded, pistoning with vigor. the clap of your skin meeting resounding throughout the bedroom making it easy to forget he never locked the door.

“Heeseung?”

a voice coming from outside interrupts your moment, stilling the both of you. the hand on your throat loosening momentarily as he listens, setting a finger on your lips.

“shh shhh..” Heeseung’s eyes go wide, glancing at the door as footsteps echo down the hall. whines lost in his palm, quickly covering his fingers in tears that won’t stop from streaming down your face. he stiffens, slowing to a soft pace by only grinding into you. “you have to be quiet baby.”

another call of his name passes, louder the closer they approach. the familiar noise of doors opening and shutting after each. the anticipation of getting caught only adding more thrill, sending waves of excitement to your core, clamping around the size roughly jerking inside of you.

“fuck..” Heeseung grits, slapping his palm over your mouth with more force when you let out a weakened moan. footsteps clearly change direction, pushing the door open to unveil Mia’s face dropping.

“Heeseung?” she splutters at first, jaw dropped where she stands. the palm on your throat returning to grip you tightly and force you to look at her. 

“look who it is baby.” his thrusts return to a brutal snap, aiming hard and rapid again. releasing your locked lips to hoist one of your legs onto his shoulder for the viewer the get a good look. “what was that she called you earlier? a slut?”

Heeseung mocks you, slapping your thigh when you barely respond. choking under his hold growing tighter, constricting your air flow even more. “my slut, my pretty little slut.”

gurgled sobs emit between the ruthless pace he’s fallen into, meeting Mia’s gaze for less than a second before she huffs angrily, spinning on her foot with her middle finger stretched out. mumbling something about what a ‘fucking asshole’ Heeseung is.

“I’ll never let her talk to you like that again.” he stutters between pressing a sloppy pattern of kisses against your forehead. pecks littering down your down to your lips, softly pressing together.

it’s too much, trapped under his weight, stirring your mind to uselessness. the only thing able to pass through your muddled thoughts is the need to cum. to feel his warmth deep inside of you.

“d-don’t pull out, please—please, wanna feel you.” through chattering teeth you plea, scrabbling to grab onto his shoulders. too crushed in the folded position he’s kept you in to breathe properly, let alone speak up. endless amounts of whimpers and cries pouring the more he buries inside of you. licking at his upper lip with a nod.

“beg for it, why should I give it to you baby?” Heeseung’s mockery has you clamping around his size, rolling your eyes back with ragged breaths pulled from your chest. 

“go-good..good for you, pretty for you..” your voice continues to waver, coherency completely evading you with each pointed thrust. words blubbering out without logical sense, overheated and numb down to your toes that still manage to curl up.

“sosososo pretty.” he lets out, mostly to himself. struck by the way your eyelashes have clumped together with tears, lips stung as if bees have attacked your sinful mouth. drool leaking it’s way down to your chest, strings of saliva endlessly pouring out with each obscene call of his name. 

ruined, ruined and destroyed to only crave his cock. he’d make sure of it, make sure you never look for anyone else. make sure no one can satisfy your holes the way he can. 

Heeseung tugs himself out to just the tip, leveraging his weight onto the pits of your knees to keep your ass angled up. the tip of his cock swollen red, decorating your abused hole prettily while he throbs against your opening. “you want it?”

“please—please!” 

“so cute.” he coos, grunting as he pushes back in taking his time just to feel you suck around each inch of his thick size. filling you to the brim to feel every bit of him making shape in your hole. a loud moaned gasp rips from your lips when he jerks inside you, pushing balls deep. “you’re mine. you’re only mine.”

thrusting resumes to a fast pace, gripping moans out of your throat despite how scratchy and dry it feels. Heeseung feels the need to make you watch, groping your legs up to push your body in half. spread open to completely able to see where your pussy pulls on his shaft. milking him to cum as you pulsate and clench around him.

“want me to fill your pretty pussy up? hmm?” he emphasizes, hips slapping against your ass. cock dipping in and out of your angrily, only able to dumbly nod your head.

“H-hee…Heeseung—Heeseung..”

the shattered prayer of his name drips from your tongue, throwing your head back with one last cry. pussy squeezing impossibly tight forcing him to stop for a second to catch his breath. the sweat between your bodies secreting rapidly, a fresh scent of body wash filling your head with everything Heeseung. 

“that’s my good girl.” he says roughly, near his breaking point. further caging you to the bed as he presses closer, left with no choice but to take it. “fill you up like you need, anything for you.”

his thrusts grow erratic, sending your oversensitivity into overdrive, turned into a brainless babbling mess. the view of your pussy taking it, in spite of how much it hurts, combined with you mouthing his name sends him over the edge. coming to a still point with twitching lips, shooting hot white strings to the last drop. shallowly fucking the last few spurts until you squirm, throwing your head side to side with a wail.

allowing your legs to come down, he keeps you held open. mesmerized by the gush of cum that won’t stay inside of you. too much for your tiny cunt to handle, gripping onto the base of his length to shove it back in.

“a-ahh..” you hiss, too fatigued for more. “Hee..”

seeming satisfied, he massages your hips, mindful as he moves off to flop by your side. the drain finally hitting him, a numbing throb beating at his lower back from the exertion used.

“Heeseung..” you sigh, landing your head flat on the bed. pondering if you should be worrying about getting dressed before his sister asks herself why you’ve been taking so long.

“hmm?” he murmurs, half-asleep after fucking the life out of you. how he hadn’t managed to absorb your energy in the process seems unfathomable.

“why’d you ignore me?” you can’t help but ask. “are you going to keep acting like that?”

it’s Heeseung’s turn to let out a winded sigh, licking at the roof of his mouth to coat his dry tongue. “you’re my sister's friend, I don’t want to ruin your friendship if we end up.. if I fuck things up..”

while his logic makes sense, the only thought running a course around your brain has you shooting up to sit and poke at his abdomen. “you like me!”

Heeseung grunts, throwing an arm across his eyes, unable to hide the smile taking over his lips. “maybe.”

“ignoring a girl because you like her is soooo childish.” you jeer, pinching his side.

Heeseung adjusts his arms behind his head to look at you, a more serious expression taking over his face. “it’s not everyday that the girl you’ve had a crush on since the summer before high school hides in your closet on a mission to steal your boxers.”

“I can explai— wait, what?? what did you just say??” 

Heeseung mimics pulling a zipper shut across his lips, shrugging as he quickly sits up to grab his discarded clothing; having the same concern of getting caught again.

“Heeseung! you come back here and confess your love to me right now!”

love story? | hyung line.

synopsis: enhypen’s hyung line as different types of romance tropes! pairing: hyung line x gn!reader (separate) genre/warnings: (heeseung: heeseung being annoying, a bit of sunghoon slander) / (jay: he threatens to give away his cooking to jake n heeseung, premature wrinkling) / (jake: ruined picnics, jake being too cute to handle) / (sunghoon: mentions of blood + bruises, cursing, sunghoon + you being two little silly geese) word count: 2.7k (hoon’s is so long i got carried away LMAO) a/n: first post yay !!! hope everyone enjoys <3 (ps. i am a firm believer in jongseong’s love language being acts of service !! come discuss enha love languages w me ;))) )

lee heeseung ⁂ academic rivals to lovers

lee heeseung is infuriating. the slight upturn of his lips into that smirk you always see before he inevitably corrects you, the mischievous glint in his eyes as he twirls his pencil with the tips of his fingers, the subtle twitch of his nose after you brush him off that tells you he’ll be back to bother you later. all of it makes your blood boil, but today has proven one, equally frustrating thing: even if the gods do exist, they don’t seem to care about you.

Seguir leyendo

how does this app work ive only been reading the same stuff for like a month now

---

MORE THAN PRETEND 愛｡ fake relationship

𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───tired of playing pretend, they want to make it official with you

𝑜𝑓 ܃ fake bf!enhypen x f!r 2739 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons fluff fake dating au ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 skinship kissing jealousy suggestive? ｡｡｡ ／ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 )

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა wow this could've been better, i rushed a lil TT but hope you guys enjoy ^^ !

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung’s always been the cool, nonchalant type—someone who can laugh off pretty much anything with that easygoing smirk of his. so, when one of your guy friends throws a casual arm around your shoulders during a group hangout, you expect heeseung to ignore it or joke in to the gossip, at least that's what he should do since you're not his real girlfriend. instead, he goes silent, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watches the interaction with a clenched jaw.

the shift is subtle, but you know him too well. he doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the wall, but the way his gaze follows your every move is unnerving.

“you good?” you ask, stepping closer after the gathering got over, and tugging lightly on his sleeve. his eyes snap to yours, and for a second, something almost dangerous flickers behind them before he masks it with a tight-lipped smile.

“yeah, i'm good.” his voice is flat, the usual playful tone gone. “didn't know you two were that close.”

you arch an eyebrow, tilting your head. “what, jealous?” you tease, hoping to break the tension, cracking him a smile.

heeseung lets out a humourless chuckle, his gaze sliding back to where your friend was standing. “of him? please.” the words are dismissive, but there’s a sharp edge underneath. heeseung finally pushes off the wall and closes the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours as he dips his head down, his hand slowly caressing your upper hand. “but just so you know,” he murmurs lowly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that only you can hear, “i’m your boyfriend, even if it’s fake. he doesn’t get to touch you like that.”

before you can respond, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. the way he holds you is different—no teasing, no joking, just a raw, simmering intensity that makes your heart race.

PARK JONGSEONG

calm and collected are two adjectives that can define jay the best, a total gentleman— a perfect choice to play your fake boyfriend, the best fake plus one for your uncle's wedding. but tonight, at the party, you see his mask slip. it’s subtle at first—the way his eyes harden when he spots you talking to some random guy by the drinks table, swiftly turning his head away. he doesn't think much of it until the guy leans in closer, saying something that makes you laugh.

that’s when jay moves. he’s at your side in an instant, so swift you down even realise his imposing presence as he slides an arm around your shoulders. “hey,” he says, his voice light but his grip firm. “who’s your new friend?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanour. “oh, uh—a family friend,” you answer, a tight lipped smile, but jay’s gaze doesn’t leave the guy’s face.

“right.” his smile is strained, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of friendliness. the guy glances between you and jay, looking a bit uncomfortable before mumbling an excuse and walking away.

as soon as he’s gone, jay pulls you closer, his hand slipping down to your waist, fingers digging in ever so slightly, your back hitting his chest. “next time,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath travelling softly down to your neck, “just tell him you have a boyfriend—me.” his voice is low and intense, vibrating through you.

your heart skips a beat. “jay, it’s not—”

“real? yeah, i know,” he cuts you off, turning you to face him. his dark eyes bore into yours, darting across your face real quick, resring on your lips. “but i don’t care. i don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you,” he leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours, “even if this is just pretend… you’re mine.”

SIM JAEYUN

the party is loud, laughter and music filling the air as you stand awkwardly by the punch table, watching jake from a distance. he’s talking to someone, a girl with long hair and a smile that lights up her face. his ex. you bite your lips, feeling a dull ache in your chest. it's silly—you’re not even really dating, but seeing him so at ease with her, leaning in to listen, his familiar grin in place, makes your heart clench, makes you feel it was you making his heart flutter instead.

they look like a perfect couple. a real couple, with real feelings for each other.

you turn away, trying to shake off the pang of insecurity by getting out of this place. but before you can slip out of sight, a familiar voice stops you.

“hey, what’s with the long face?”

you glance up, startled to find jake standing right in front of you, concern etched in his features. “n-nothing,” you mumble, forcing a smile. “just —felt out of place, i guess.”

jake’s gaze softens as if he can see right through your flimsy excuse. he steps closer, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a worry line that you hadn’t realised had formed. he leans in ever so close, “is it because of her?” he asks softly, nodding back toward his ex. when you don’t respond, he leans in, his eyes locking with yours. “you know she’s just the past, right?”

“but you looked so happy, jake! and we're not even—” “i’m only yours, you hear me?” he whispers fiercely, his fingers tightening around your waist, pulling you into him. “fake or not, you’re the one i want to be with.” his voice is low, almost pleading. “i’m not going anywhere.”

warmth blooms in your chest, melting away the doubts. and when he kisses your forehead gently, it’s like the final seal on his promise.

PARK SUNGHOON

the elevator doors slide shut, leaving just you and sunghoon in the small, enclosed space. his shoulders brush against yours, a stark reminder of how close you’re standing. you glance up at him nervously, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. why does he look so annoyed? he hasn’t said a word since you two left the event.

you press the button for your floor, stealing another look at him. he’s staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, but you can tell something’s different today. his jaw is clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, tension radiating from him.

it hits you then—he saw you talking to that guy earlier. your colleague from work, who’s been too friendly lately.

the elevator jolts slightly as it begins its ascent, and the silence stretches. you clear your throat, shifting nervously, taking a quick glance at his side profile, “sunghoon, about earlier—”

“does he always touch you like that?” his voice is low, cold even, cutting through the still air like a blade, face away from yours, looking straight ahead.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “what?”

he turns to you, stepping closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “your ‘friend’ at the office,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing, leaning his head down as he loosens his tie. “he seemed too comfortable.”

you feel a flicker of heat rising in your chest—he’s jealous. But why? “sunghoon, it’s not—”

“i don’t care what you think it is.” his hand reaches out, gripping the side of the elevator wall beside your head, caging you in. his breath hitches as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “we might be pretending, but i don’t like it when anyone else looks at you that way. you’re mine.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. your heart pounds as you try to process the sudden shift in his demeanour, the unspoken intensity in his eyes, the impossibly fast heartbeat of yours.

“we’re not real, remember?” you manage to whisper, though your body betrays you, leaning into the space between you two.

“then tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. his fingers brush lightly against your waist, the touch sending shivers down your spine. “why does it hurt so much seeing another guy looking at you?”

you stare at him, mouth dry, as his eyes drop to your lips.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore,” he whispers, “please..” a desperate plea from his lips as his hands control itself to not pull you in, but you don't wait, and close the gap between your lips. and he pulls you closer, bodies clashing against each other as the kiss escalates. he smirks into the kiss, you're his for real now.

KIM SUNOO

it’s pouring rain, and you’re soaked to the bone, standing under a bus stop shelter that does little to keep you dry. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your umbrella, shivering as the cold wind cuts through your drenched clothes. just when you think your day can’t get any worse, a familiar car pulls up beside the curb, headlights cutting through the downpour.

the passenger window rolls down, and there he is—kim sunoo, your ‘fake’ boyfriend, his brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and concern. “get in before you freeze,” he calls out, voice muffled by the sound of the rain.

you don’t need to be told twice. you scramble into the car, teeth chattering as you tug the door shut behind you. the warmth of the heater engulfs you instantly, and sunoo’s jacket is shoved into your hands before you can even register what’s happening. “you’re going to catch a cold,” he scolds, his voice laced with worry as he glances at your shivering form, “why didn't you call me?”

you blink up at him, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “i … i didn’t want to bother you.”

sunoo sighs, leaning closer until you can see every droplet of rain clinging to his hair, every crease in his usually cheerful face. “idiot,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with something you can’t quite name. “you’re never a bother to me.”

your heart skips as he reaches out, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers. his hand lingers, thumb tracing your chilled cheek softly.

for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he reaches over, wiping a raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so gentle it makes your heart skip. “do you know how worried i was? pretend or not, i don’t want to see you like this,” he murmurs, his hand lingering near your face.

before you can respond, he leans over and tucks the jacket around your shoulders, pulling you close until you’re huddled against his chest and neck. “you’re mine to worry about,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then one on the bridge of your nose.

in that moment, under the sound of rain and the warmth of his embrace, it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.

YANG JUNGWON

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. the plan was rather simple—show up together at the dinner, play the perfect couple in front of his friends, and go home as usual. but then the storm hit, trapping you at his apartment afterward, the rain pouring down outside in heavy sheets, drenching the city.

jungwon sits beside you on the couch, the dim glow of the lamp casting shadows across his sharp features, and you force yourself to look away. his jacket is discarded on the floor, sleeves rolled up as he runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated by the turn of events. he looks too handsome right now.

it’s quiet, too quiet, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows.

“looks like you’re stuck here,” he says, leaning back casually, but there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore. you tug the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stay calm, but the warmth of the apartment and the intimacy of the moment is starting to make you nervous.

“i'll crash on the couch,” you mutter awkwardly, avoiding his gaze, but jungwon’s eyes are on you, piercing, like he’s studying every inch of your face. he doesn’t say anything at first, but then he moves closer, his knee brushing against yours, you shiver.

“you don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver through you. his hand rests lightly on your knee, but it’s enough to make your heart race. “you can take the bed.”

before you can respond, jungwon cups your chin gently, turning your face toward his. his touch is soft but firm, like he’s been holding back for too long. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, as his as well.

“we don’t have to pretend all the time, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something real, “it's getting so hard for me…”

your heart skips a beat, and suddenly the fake relationship feels far too real. “jungwon, what are you saying?” you ask, your voice trembling as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, hands falling down to your waist to pull you closer.

“i'm saying,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, “that i want to kiss you, but in a real boyfriend way, and love you too while at that.”

the rain continues to fall outside, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart as his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotions, before it quickly melts to an intense one. he pulls away slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, “stay with me tonight… for real.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you never expected to find yourself in a fake relationship with riki, of all people—the energetic, mischievous older brother of your best friend. when he overheard you venting about your annoying ex constantly showing up at your favourite hangouts, he had put up a sly smirk and volunteered to be your fake boyfriend.

“think of it as a win-win. i get to mess with people’s heads, and you get a human shield. plus,” he had said, winking playfully, “it’ll be fun.”

you should’ve known that riki’s idea of ‘fun’ involved way more than you’d bargained for.

tonight, at your favourite late-night café, you spot your ex walking in, scanning the crowd. you freeze, heart thudding. before you can react, riki slides his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. his scent—a mix of citrus and something else uniquely him—makes your pulse spike. it’s only for show, you remind yourself. except … he’s suddenly so convincing.

“hey, baby, you okay?” riki’s voice is loud enough to catch your ex’s attention, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. he leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your ear. “you’re all tense.”

you fight the shiver that runs down your spine. “stop playing around,” you mutter, but he just smirks.

“i’m not playing,” he murmurs back, eyes twinkling. his gaze flicks toward your ex, who’s now glaring at you both, and riki’s grip tightens around you possessively. “i told you i’m the best at this.”

the next thing you know, riki’s turning you slightly in his arms, cupping your cheek in a way that looks so natural it makes your heart skip. the café lights catch on the gleam in his eyes—intense, focused. your ex is staring daggers at him now, but riki pays him no mind. instead, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, his face hovering inches from yours.

“relax, would you?” he murmurs, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. there’s something almost… protective in the way he’s watching you.

“riki —” you start, but he cuts you off by leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me handle this.”

before you can process his words, he pulls you flush against him, his eyes never leaving your ex’s face. then, with a cocky grin, he dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

you freeze, heart pounding. when he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, unreadable. “there,” he says softly, still holding you close. “you’re mine now. got it?” and from the look on his face, you’re not entirely sure he’s pretending anymore.

© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission / div cr plutism

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels CLICK ME

MILF HUNT! ― P.JS

Jay, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own.  You.  Or the one where Jay was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab milf!reader  

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

CONTENT―  age gap: reader is 29 and jay is 22, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy jay (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and jay really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! jay just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet 

!WARNINGS! ―  age gap, jay is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits 

NOTE ― this was supposed to be a toxic jay fic but it turned into this instead because i love him so bad…………. NOT PROOF READ, mind the typos. i'm insane for him.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big dick jay, masturbation, small instance of dubious consent, tit obsessed jay, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish, pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s jay doing stuff to you, this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and jay fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of high school. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 

 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a down payment on her own first house. 

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things. 

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Jay, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Jay, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Jay, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Jay actually is. 

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 

Jay. 

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Park Jongseong.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Jongseong?” 

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Jay more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 

Jay doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boy-toys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Jay has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 

Until you. 

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only ten back then, but he’s a man now. 

Twenty two and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Jay is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom. 

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft lul of your voice when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. 

 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single? 

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 

The point is– Jay wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 

“Well, actually,” Jay offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Jongseong.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Jay tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 

 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Jay is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Jay, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Jongseong and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Jay sees it. 

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Jay is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 

You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Jay ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Jongseong. And for the fence too.” 

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?” 

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Jay is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back home so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 

Fuck, if only you knew. 

And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Jay isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Jay than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called, even happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Jay shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Jongseong,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, lipgloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 

“It’s no problem.” Jay relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Jay little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 

He’s truly pathetic for you. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Jay’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-screams “Shit, fuck–”

Jay looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 

You’ve been with a man. 

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 

Jay fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Jay tries to ask nonchalantly. 

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 

Jay watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Jay says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his façade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Jongseong–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 

“Only because you make it weird.” Jay rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline. ”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Jongseong. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 

Jay sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Jongseo–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Jay is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Jongseong. You can’t. 

You really, really, can’t. 

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 

You’re shocked. 

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Jay shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 

“Jongseong, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 

And truthfully, Jay has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 

“God, Jay.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Jongseong at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Jay.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right. 

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Jay has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Jay smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Jongseong.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Jongseong, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Jay.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 

Why not?

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was ten years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Jay.” You finally corrected her again. 

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Jay back. 

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, and instead crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 

You hold your breath when she runs to Jay, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Jay. In fact, the only time she ever did was when she had a bad day at daycare and had a tummy ache. 

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Jay like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching the back of your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Jay did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Jay does a better job at it than you do. 

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Jay’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 

You do see it. 

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Jay’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Jay knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Jay, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Jay as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Jay does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Jay has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Jay has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance? 

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 

Some nights, Jay does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 

“Dad said I can stay up late!” 

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your coat, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Jay, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Jay has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Jay gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 

Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Jay reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Jay is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Jongseong.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Jay gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Jay knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 

Right now will be the first time Jay enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

 It’s all Jay. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Jay swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“J–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate. 

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 

“Jongseong–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In  his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Jay. He wants to take care of you? 

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need. You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Jay asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jay–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Jay thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

 Finally. 

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh. 

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 

“Say something.” Jay whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 

But you’re not. 

You do like it raw.

“Jay–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 

You repeatedly shake your head. 

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything. 

And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 

Jay though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 

 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Jay than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, heavy, needy. 

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 

Jay doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it the way he does. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 

“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all to happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 

“Mama–” Jay soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 

“Yes, daddy!” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 

“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 

Jay is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Jay never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Jay mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Jay’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 

Jay glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 

That’s fair. 

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.” 

You really, really, want to believe him.

So, you do. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ please remember to like and reblog! feedback would be lovely too, of course ; 3 ; i'm not below begging.

彡 compromise. - p.sh

requested for 1k au event!

SUMMARY ! being roomates with the biggest (and hottest) slacker on campus was difficult to say the least. plates left on the counter, clothes from him and the girl’s he brings over left in the living room, the list goes on. one day after you’ve had enough of his uncleanliness, sunghoon offers you to be his girlfriend in exchange for a tidy, mess-free apartment. totally not worth it.. right?

PAIRING ! roommate!sunghoon x f!reader

WC ! 2.1k

GENRE ! roomates au, fake dating, fluff (?) and lots of banter

WARNINGS ! slight suggestive, making out, sunghoon being a bit too confident for his own good

a/n: woohooo first fic for the event done! thank you for requesting anon! <3

if you go into the living room and find another one of park sunghoon’s socks on your couch, you might just explode.

you take a deep breath in, and out. the moment of truth. you slam open the door to your sunghoon-proof bedroom, taking quick paces towards the living room and—

there it is.

a sad, lonely sock without it’s matching pair laid on your couch. you knew it.

park sunghoon. one of the most sought after guys on campus, yet it was only his first year of college.

meanwhile, it was your fourth. so how you became roommates with him? one, tragic answer: you were broke and desperate for someone to split rent with.

sunghoon wasn’t a bad person. he did little things like pick up your forgotten mail, or turn on your coffee machine while you got ready in the bathroom. though, you'd still say he ranked number one on your list of the worst roommates you’ve ever had.

he was lazy, irresponsible, and oh so messy. 80% of the time, while you were busy being productive and studying, he was busy tackling people with a ball under his arm or in the middle of coaxing some girl to come home with him after partying all night (which didn’t take much effort on his part considering that face of his).

now, you weren’t a hater. sunghoon got into this university with his talent for football alone—so props to him for.. catching balls. honestly, if he wasn’t the way he was, you’d probably fall for his handsome charms yourself. but when his annoying, mosquito-like presence decided to intervene with the peaceful sanctuary that was once your neat and homely apartment, all wrath was destined to come out of you at some point.

for a while, you were nice enough to clean up after the younger boy, making pathetic excuses for him in your head in an effort to be a kind, forgiving roomate.

but after a month of dealing with his unwashed plates left on the counter, clothes scattered around the living room from not only him, but also the girls he brings over, and all in all his untidiness everyday, you’ve finally snapped.

this feeling of undeniable rage may partially be because of how stressed you are from all the new assignments and lack of coffee, but you’ve never felt more ready for confrontation by the time you’ve reached sunghoon’s bedroom door.

you offer two passive aggressive knocks, not even waiting for a reply before yanking the door open. “look sunghoon— we have to talk.”

nobody.

you take a few cautious steps inside his disarrayed bedroom, nose wrinkling at the sight of a mountain of clothes near his bed despite a closet being a few steps over. there’s random magazines and papers scattered across the floor, along with an unkempt stash of trinkets thrown on top of his drawer. you glance at his closet, half opened and containing only about two jackets actually hung up on racks.

“woah, never thought i’d find the campus nun snooping around my bedroom.” you whip your head around to find a shirtless sunghoon staring down at you, toothbrush perkily sticking out of his mouth. his muscled biceps flex as he crosses his arms, raising a curious brow at the sock pinched between your nails.

your eyes bulge at the sight of his bare, sculpted torso, turning around with a tint of red rushing to your ears. “just because i don’t spend every night getting wasted doesn’t make me a nun, nor was i snooping,” you spit defensively.

sunghoon chuckles, padding across his room to pick up a random top off his shirt mountain. “says the girl who just covered her eyes like she’s never seen a shirtless guy before.” he smirks, glancing down at your childish bear printed pajamas. “i mean— not that i think you have.”

you spin back around, huffing in relief now that he was dressed and pointing to the sock in your hand. “shut up, i’m only here to listen to your amazing explanation on why i keep finding socks and other assortments of your clothing all over the living— hey! don’t walk away when i’m talking to you!”

you frustratedly discard the sock somewhere on his bed, following your roommate back out to where he’s now rummaging through the kitchen pantry, toothbrush long forgotten on the sink’s rim. you take another deep breath, trying to stay calm. “sunghoon,” you begin.

“yeah, pretty girl?” your eye twitches in disbelief, hating the way butterflies flutter through your stomach from the nickname he’s always called you.

“i told you, don’t fucking call me that. now listen here,” you try to look stern, but sunghoon personally thinks you look adorable. “i’ve been dealing with your bullshit all month without a single complaint,” you rant, watching as he pulls out a box of cinnamon toast crunch. “do you ever wonder how all those plates and bowls you leave in the sink magically disappear? yeah, well, that was me slaving my ass away like your personal housemaid!”

sunghoon is completely unphased by your vent, too busy pouring his cereal into an empty bowl with a shrug. “nobody told you to clean those for me.”

moments like these made you question how you’ve dealt with the boy for a whole month.

“if i don’t, they begin piling up into a jenga tower,” you fire back with a scoff, “similar to the wonderful sorting technique used in your bedroom.”

unbelievably, the boy giggles at that, taking a seat at the counter with his late night snack. “y’know, you’re pretty funny when you’re not locked up in your room all day.” your jaw tightens, snatching the milk away right as your roomate reaches out for it. he looks at you as if you just committed a crime, lips turning into a defeated (but adorable) pout. “hey, i’m trying to have cereal here.”

“sunghoon,” you snarl once more, holding the carton above his head like a parent would with a child’s toy.

“what?” he whines.

“if you don’t start doing shit around here, i’m kicking you out.”

instead of a dramatic gasp or begs for mercy and forgiveness like you’d hoped for, he snickers, pouncing up like a cat and snatching the milk back outof your grip. “yeah, right. as if you could afford this apartment by yourself.”

silence (besides the sound of sunghoon chewing his cinnamon toast crunch).

out of the corner of his eye, sunghoon sees your face drop in utter defeat. you look close to the verge of tears, knuckles turning white by your sides. yes, he may be a jerk sometimes, but he wasn’t that evil. his eyes softened slightly, letting out a thoughtful sigh as he munched on his spoonful of cereal.

suddenly, a lightbulb appears atop his head, smirking brilliantly. “okay, being the handsome genius i am, i’ve come up with an offer— a compromise, you could say.”

you didn’t know your roommate that well considering it’s only been a month since you’ve met, but you were confident that any ideas his pea-sized brain came up with weren’t going to be very good ones in your favor. you offer him a raise of your brow, gesturing for him to continue.

dropping his silver spoon back into the bowl, sunghoon rests his elbows up on the counter. “in exchange for ‘doing shit around here’, you have to be my girlfriend.”

you choke on your saliva, giving him a dumbfounded expression. “what!?”

“hear me out!” he quickly defends, “my parents are planning to set me up with this weird, artsy church girl, and i just can’t allow that to happen for my reputation sake. you’re my only hope, pretty.”

“first of all, you were basically calling me a nerd a few minutes ago, so i don’t see how i’d be any better than her. and what exactly would i have to do as your fake girlfriend— if i metaphorically took you up on this deal?”

sunghoon ignores the first half of your statement with no explanation. “well, probably have dinner with my family every once in a while, hold my hand, kiss me-“

you stumble slightly. “woah, woah- what?! why would we kiss in front of your parents?” you inquire stressfully, the thought of kissing sunghoon making your heart beat much faster than it should.

though honestly, this compromise sounded like a win-win in your book. finally, no more socks found on the couch or plate mountains in your sink, and getting to fake date park sunghoon along the way? you make sure not to give in just yet, as you don’t need the boy’s ego skyrocketing any higher than it was, but you were feeling pretty great.

“to prove we’re serious, duh.” sunghoon rolls his eyes at your question, suddenly turning in the barstool to face you. “c’mon, let’s practise now.”

huh? wait, practise what?

does he mean—

you step away from the counter nervously, only to be pulled back by sunghoon’s grip on your wrist. he has a barely noticeable, smug smirk on his face at your sudden nervousness, grasping your hand tightly in his bigger one. “hey, i never said yes to the deal yet,” you gulp.

taking a leap of faith, sunghoon leans further in, his pointy nose touching yours. his breath tickles your lips, and you hate the way his closeness affects you. now you understand why no girl on campus could resist him; it was impossible.

“why not, pretty girl? are you scared of having to kiss me? is that why you don’t want to say yes?” he teases, reaching his free hand up to softly run a thumb along your plush lips. for some reason, you don’t move away from his surprisingly gentle touch.

“n-no. i’m not scared of you, sunghoon.”

his smirk deepens in pure amusement. “then kiss me,” he encourages, calmly waiting for you to make the first move.

you take one last look at him. his slightly disheveled hair, the moles scattered perfectly along his features even more delicate up close. down to his curved nose, rubbing against the tip of yours affectionately. and lastly, his enchanting pink lips, just begging to be kissed by you.

so you do. before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing park sunghoon. the boy you were just scolding for his constant messes. the boy who was known and loved by your whole college, his reputation lying at the highest amongst everyone’s standards.

but it didn’t matter, in that moment, he was just sunghoon, your lazy, ridiculously hot roommate.

sunghoon finally frees your wrist, allowing you to reach up and rest your arms around his shoulders. to no surprise, he’s definitely the best kiss you’ve ever had, full of experience and confidence. the taste of cinnamon toast crunch runs through your senses, only furthering as he runs a tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

feeling playful, you refuse, making sunghoon grunt in annoyance. he pulls away for a second to glare at you. “that’s how you wanna be, huh? let me show you who’s in charge around here, then.”

before you can ponder on what that meant, his lips are back on yours more fierce than ever, standing up from his seat to force you right against the counter.

as you try to get comfortable in the new position, he harshly pinches your side. in a moment of surprise at his attack, you gasp, lips parting and giving sunghoon the perfect opportunity to force his tongue right into your mouth and explore every crevice of you.

it’s hard to keep up with sunghoon, he was much too intense for you. so you gently push him away, catching your breath hastily. when you finally look up at him, his lips are swollen, slightly wet and chapped.

it seems he understands that you want to stop here, so he moves back, giving you some space. “i.. i came here to scold you about your socks. how did this happen?” you ask to mostly yourself.

“my charms are irresistible.” sunghoon lets out a laugh, walking backwards towards his bedroom. “so, starting tomorrow you’re my girlfriend, okay pretty girl?”

still trying to calm your racing heart, you offer a small, defeated glance to your roommate. “yeah, whatever, pretty boy.” he smiles brightly at his newly earned nickname, turning around before closing his bedroom door for the night.

with a sigh, you glance back around only to find sunghoon’s half eaten bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, soggy and abandoned on the counter.

this deal wasn’t going to change anything, was it?

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always appreciated and motivating!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr