I've been dying to read something like a ex husband au jake with smut and tension and obv u'd be great👅
───synopsis: jake as your co-parenting ex husband.
You’re halfway through folding laundry when your phone rings on the couch cushion beside you. The sound blends into the normal afternoon noise. TV in the background, dryer humming, the faint clatter of your neighbor’s kids playing outside. You don’t even look up at first. Probably a spam call, your sister or best friend calling because they are bored.
Then you see the caller ID:
Your heart gives a small kick and you grab the phone fast. “Hello?”
A woman answers politely.
“Hi. This is Haeun from the front office. We need you to come in to discuss an incident involving your son.”
It’s the word incident that grabs your throat.
You straighten instinctively. “Is he hurt?”
“No.” she says immediately, and you feel a tiny peace of air return. “He’s not hurt. But we do need you to come in as soon as possible.”
They never explain more over the phone. You know that. Doesn’t matter, your chest is already tight.
“I’ll be there.” You hang up before she can say anything else.
The laundry sits half-folded on the couch as you shove your feet into shoes, grab your bag, and double-check you have your car keys and phone. You take one deep breath to keep your hands from shaking. You remind yourself, he’s fine. They said he’s fine. But your mind still races with what-ifs the whole drive. The traffic lights seem overly slow, increasing your stress. By the time you pull into the school parking lot, your shoulders ache from how hard you’ve been holding them. You walk quickly through the front doors, trying to look composed even though your heart hasn’t slowed once.
The woman at the front desk gives you a sympathetic smile, knowing already who you are.
“You must be here for Juwon.” she says gently. “You can wait in the office. His teacher will be with you shortly.”
You thank her and sit in one of the small chairs along the wall. They’re clearly meant for parents, but they’re still uncomfortable. You look around the room, noticing each pencil and pen on the desk, the spread out papers, the move outside the window. A kid walks out with a nurse, holding an ice pack to his forehead. Another parent signs a late pick-up slip. It’s all painfully ordinary, which somehow makes your own anxiety feel sharper.
You set your bag beside you, clasp your hands in your lap, and try to breathe normally. You think of your son, of how sensitive he can be, how easily he gets overwhelmed even when he tries so hard to pretend he doesn’t. You hate that you’re not with him yet and that you don’t know exactly what happened.
A few quiet minutes pass and the office door behind you opens. You hear slow footsteps. Someone walks farther into the room and stops just behind your chair. You assume it’s the teacher and half-turn to look…but your body recognizes him before your eyes do.
He stands there for half a second, as if he wasn’t expecting this either. The surprise flickers across his face. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t either. He gives a small, almost polite nod, barely a greeting, and he takes the empty chair two seats away from you. Not next to you but not far from you either.
You keep your eyes forward, pretending to study the faded poster about positive behavior, but your brain is too aware of him, of the sound of him sitting, of the quiet shift of his jacket as he settles, of the warmth of his presence in the room. You hadn’t known the school called him. Of course they did, he’s still his father. He always will be. But you didn’t expect it. You didn’t prepare for this.
The last time you saw Jake was months ago. A quick exchange in a driveway, a handed-over backpack, a reminder about dentist appointments and basketball practise. Two adults doing their best to keep things steady for a kid who deserves steady.
It’s not that you dislike Jake. Your marriage wasn’t a battlefield. It just thinned, stretched. Got too much in a way that became toxic for the both of you. There had been love. A lot of it. There still is, you think sometimes, in the quiet moments you try not to dwell on. But love wasn’t the problem, timing and life was.
One day you both looked at each other and realized you’d become two people who were trying to hold something together instead of living inside it. Separating hurt, but staying would’ve hurt worse. You don’t regret the decision. But seeing him now brings back everything you were trying not to think and feel ever since.
He looks good. The way he sits, a little tense, hands clasped loosely in his lap. Like he’s worried too. Like he’s here because he cares, not out of obligation. For a long time, this used to be the person you leaned on when something was wrong with your child. And now you can’t, you won’t and you shouldn’t. You breathe in slowly, eyes still forward. You don’t let yourself look at him.
The door to the inner office opens, and a woman in her thirties steps out with a clipboard held against her chest.
“Hi.” she says, offering you both a small smile. “Thanks for coming in. Can you follow me?”
You stand first. Jake stands a beat after you, like he’s making sure he doesn’t crowd you. The politeness annoys you more than actual rudeness would have. The teacher leads you into a small meeting room with a round table and three chairs. You take one side. Jake automatically takes the opposite.
The teacher sits, folding her hands.
“So…” she begins gently, “there was an incident today during recess. Your son got into an argument with another student over… well, over a soccer ball. It escalated quickly. He shoved the other child.”
You exhale through your nose. It’s not the worst thing, but it’s still not what you want to hear.
Jake shifts slightly. “Was anyone hurt?”
“The other student fell, but he’s okay. Just startled. We don’t tolerate physical aggression, so we wanted to speak with both of you.”
You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “Has he done anything like this before?”
“No.” the teacher says warmly. “This is unlike him, which is why we want to understand what happened.”
Before you can speak again, Jake cuts in.
“He’s frustrated lately. Probably overwhelmed with some things at home.”
You turn your head slowly.
“Some things?” you repeat, eyebrows raised.
Jake pauses, long enough to let you know he didn’t think the comment through. “I mean, you know. The schedule changes. The… routines.”
You fold your arms. “The routines that you suggested?”
“I suggested a plan. You edited the whole thing.”
The teacher blinks, smiling awkwardly. “Okay so, it sounds like there may have been some miscommunication at home.”
You don’t look away from Jake. “There’s always miscommunication when someone’s late turning in permission slips.”
“Really? We’re doing this right now?” he warns.
The teacher clears her throat loudly. “Why don’t I bring him in so he can explain what happened?”
You and Jake both sit back, inhaling sharply, conversation shoved down into silence. A moment later, your son walks in, head down, feet dragging. Your heart breaks a little at the sight. You soften immediately. He looks at you first, always you, and you reach out your hand without thinking. He slips his small fingers into yours.
“It’s okay.” you whisper. “Just tell us what happened.”
Your son sniffles. “He… he said I cheated. I didn’t. He kept taking the ball and… and I told him to stop, but he didn’t.”
The teacher steps in again, smoothing the tension. “We’re not here to punish. We just want him to learn from this. He’s going to sit out soccer for a couple of days. Nothing too serious.”
Your son nods obediently.
“Thank you.” you say to the teacher. “We’ll talk about it at home.”
She dismisses him with a gentle pat on the back. You take your son’s hand and stand. Jake stands too, but you don’t look at him. You’re too focused on getting your kid out of the room before the shame sinks in deeper.
As soon as the door closes behind you, your son speaks again.
“He kept saying I was cheating. I wasn’t, Mom. I swear.”
“I know.” you say softly, squeezing his hand as you walk down the hallway. “But pushing someone isn’t the answer. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
He nods, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
You walk him all the way to the parking lot, open the back car door, and help him climb in. You buckle him in automatically and stroke his hair once before stepping back. The car door shuts with a soft thud. You exhale slowly, pressing your palm to your forehead for a second.
Jake stops a few feet away, hands in his jacket pockets, shoulders tense.
“We need to talk.” he says quietly.
You look over your shoulder at him, the way he’s looking at you, with concern, confusion, makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.
“I don’t have much time.” you lie.
“You don’t have time to talk about your child? Our child?” he says, toning ‘our’ like you forgot that Juwon is also his son.
“I don’t want people to see us together. Not arguing, not like this.” you sigh.
Jake studies you with an unreadable expression.
“Then come up when you drop off Juwon tonight.” he suggests.
“We have to talk Y/N.” he repeats firmly. “You dont want us to be seen outside, so come over tonight. You cant avoid this for long.”
“Okay…” you sigh and enter your car.
Jake walks to his car and you frustratedly rub your eyes and forehead. You quickly put on a fake mask, smile at your son through the mirror and drive off.
Night arrived faster than you wished it did and you are parked in front of Jake’s house. The porch light is on. You walk up the steps with Juwon’s hand in yours, your knuckles brushing his small backpack. You knock before you can second-guess yourself. The door opens almost immediately. And Jake… Jake looks so damn it good.
His hair is damp, still tousled from a shower, the ends curling slightly at his forehead. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, the simple (slutty) outfit that somehow makes him look better than being dressed up ever did. For a second you forget how to breath.
His eyebrows lift just a little when he sees you standing there. “Hey.”
He tries not to smile, but a tiny, amused spark flashes in his eyes. He definitely noticed your malfunction.
“Come in.” he says gently, stepping aside.
You guide Juwon in, and Jake leans down to ruffle his hair.
“Hey, love. Your toys are in your room.”
This perks your son up immediately. “Can I go play?”
“Sure.” Jake says, nodding toward the hallway.
Juwon scampers off and disappears into his room, the same one he’s had since before the divorce.
You stand there awkwardly, hands clasped in front of you, taking in the familiar house. It didn’t really change, just the aesthetics did. Its more… Jake now.
Jake closes the door behind you and walks past, gesturing toward the couch.
“Sit.” he says softly. “I’ll get us something.”
You hesitate only a second before sitting at the far end of the couch. The cushions dip slightly under you. God, it’s way too familiar.
Jake returns with two glasses of soju, setting one down in front of you. You reach for it, your fingers slightly trembling. He notices, but doesnt say anything. He just flexes his jaw.
“We should talk about today.” he says quietly.
You take a slow sip of soju and nod. But your pulse is already racing, not because of the school meeting, not because of the argument. Because Jake looks good, you’re alone with him.
“Let’s start with Juwon.” he says quietly and shifts slightly toward you, still on his side of the couch, but angled now, giving you his full attention.
“What happened today shouldn’t happen again.” he says, tone firm but not accusing. “Not the fight. Not how we acted in front of him. Or the teacher.”
Your shoulders tense. “I know.”
“We were petty.” he adds.
Your eyes flick up sharply. “Both of us?”
He raises one brow. “You threw the first jab.”
You huff. “Because you said the ‘routines’ were to blame. That’s basically saying it’s my fault.”
“I wasn’t blaming you.” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I was trying to explain he’s been unsettled. He needs consistency.”
You purse your lips. “And you’re saying I don’t give him consistency?”
Jake exhales through his nose, trying to calm his nerves and not react.
“I’m saying that both of us get cocky around each other.”
Your eyebrows pull together. “Cocky?”
“Competitive.” he corrects himself. “Trying to one-up each other. Trying to prove who’s the better parent. He sees that.”
Your stomach twists uncomfortably because he’s not wrong.
“Kids pick up everything.” he goes on. “And he’s sensitive. He always has been.”
You swallow, guilt pricking under your ribs.
“He shouldn’t have to feel like he’s stuck between us.” Jake says quietly.
“No.” you agree, voice barely above a whisper. “He shouldn’t.”
You glance over at the hallway where soft toy sounds drift faintly, your son playing, happy, unaware of the weight in the living room.
You inhale slowly. “He needs you more than he sees you.”
Jake’s eyes flick up, struck by the honesty.
“I’m not trying to say you’re absent.” you add quickly. “I know you’re doing your best. I know you love him. I know your job is demanding. But… he asks for you. A lot.”
“I know.” he admits quietly. “I hear it in his voice when we FaceTime. I know he wants more time.”
“Then take it.” you say, a little too raw. “No one’s stopping you. Least of all me.”
He sits back, studying you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.
“I don’t want to disrupt your routines.” he says. “The life you built with him. The stability you give him.”
You shake your head. “It’s not about routines, Jake. He needs both of us. And we need to stop letting our ego get in the way of that.”
“You’re right.” he says quietly. It’s not often he admits that. “I’ll take him more. I’ll rearrange whatever I have to. I don’t want him feeling like I’m optional.”
“You never were.” you whisper.
He looks down at his bottle, thumb tracing the material, voice low and vulnerable in a way you haven’t heard in a long time.
“I don’t want to fail him.” he murmurs. “Or you. Not again.”
You lift your eyes to his. He lifts his to yours and drop to your lips for half a second, making your heart stop. Right when the tension reaches the point where you’re sure one of you is going to break, soft footsteps pad down the hallway. You both jerk your heads toward the sound. Juwon stands there rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, hair rumpled and voice small.
You’re the first to stand. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Jake sets his bottle down and rises too. He walks beside you through the hallway, the three of you moving like an echo of a life you once had. Juwon crawls into his bed without protest, already halfway asleep. You pull the blanket up to his chin, smoothing his hair back. Jake stands on the other side of the bed, watching with tired, soft eyes. He leans down and presses a kiss to your son’s forehead. You do the same. Then you both straighten, almost in sync.
You reach for the light switch. Jake reaches at the same time. Your fingers brush. His warmth way too comforting. Its been so fucking long since you felt it. Felt him.
You pull your hand away and he flicks off the light. You open the door and you both move to get out, bodies pressing against each other.
“S-sorry.” you quickly get out and press your body on the wall with embarassment. You turn to tell him that you should probably go as he comes out, but you dont. Because he is close. Closer than he meant to be. Closer than you can handle without your breath skipping. Your chests almost brushing, your faces inches apart. His arm half-raised from closing the door, his body blocking yours without meaning to.
He swallows, eyes locked on yours. Neither of you steps back. You dont. So he takes advantage of that and takes over, grabbing your waist and you both instictively crash into each other. His mouth finds yours like he’s been holding back for months, desperately and in a starving way. Thats the only way Jake ever kissed you, or fucked you. His hand slides up your side, jaw tilted to deepen the kiss as though he’s terrified you’ll change your mind. You curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
The kiss breaks for a second, just long enough for oxygen to slip between you and Jake presses his forehead to yours, chest rising and falling too quickly. His breath trembles. You’ve never seen him like this.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he whispers, like a sad puppy, his fingers flexing at your waist like he’s fighting the urge to pull you even harder against him.
You swallow, your lips brushing his. “Jake—”
He shakes his head once, a small, desperate gesture. His thumb drags along your hip, trembling faintly. He’s trying so hard not to lose it, not to cross a line too fast.
“You walk in here, looking like that… breathing like that… talking to me with that soft fucking voice of yours…” he murmurs.
Your lips brush his barely, accidentally and he makes a deep sound in his throat like the last thread of his control snaps.
“You say one word and I swear I’ll devour you. I won’t stop.” he groans softly.
You pull back just enough to look at him, and the expression on his face… God. Its intense. He could really cry on the spot from the way he is holding back.
“Fuck Jake.” you whisper and shake your head, shook from the way he is so goddamn needy.
He grabs your waist and crushes you to him again, kissing you like a man starved. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he groans against your mouth. He lifts you and walks to his bedroom while he attacks your neck with kisses, licks, bites.
Its happening, you thought. You never thought this would happen again after the divorce. It feels wrong. It is wrong. But it feels so right. Jake kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, never breaking the desperate, hungry kiss. He drops you on the bed, the one you used to share before everything fell apart. He breaks the kiss only to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His hands are immediately back on you, sliding under your blouse, fingers splaying across the smooth skin of your back. He pulls you against his bare chest, the heat of him seeping into you, warming you in a way you've desperately missed.
You pull back to remove your own shirt and move further on the bed. He hovers over you, undoing your bra with one hand and immediately attacking your boobs, grabbing and sucking on them. You can feel the hickeys forming. His hand slides under your panties, fingers brushing against your clothed pussy making you jump. He groans at the feel of you, already wet and ready.
He pulls your pants and undies down in one shift motion. Then his fingers are back, stroking you through your folds, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles around it, applying just the right pressure to make your hips buck up against his hand.
"Jake." you gasp, your head falling back against the pillow.
"Yes, fuck, say my name." he growls, his fingers picking up speed. "I want to hear you scream it as I make you come on my fingers. Want the whole fucking neighborhood to know how good im making my ex wife feel.”
“N-no, fuck.” you whimper.
He leans down, his breath hot against your core. "I'm going to devour this sweet cunt until you're begging me to fuck you." he promises darkly and buries his face between your thighs, his mouth latching onto you with a hunger that steals your breath. He licks a broad stripe up your slit, his tongue delving between your folds, tasting your essence. He groans against you, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through your body.
"Fuck, you taste even better than I remember. I could eat this pretty pussy for hours and never get enough." he groans.
He seals his mouth over your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. His hands grip your thighs, pushing them further apart, holding you open for his feast. He eats you like a starving man, desperate and greedy, his tongue plunging in and out of your entrance, fucking you with his mouth.
"Jake, oh god, yes!" you cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you. Your hips grind against his face, riding his tongue, chasing your pleasure.
He growls in response, the sound rumbling through you, making your core clench around his invading tongue. He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips brushing your dripping slit.
"You like that, baby? Like the way I eat this sweet cunt?" he taunts, his thumb rubbing hard circles around your clit. "I could fucking drown in this pussy. Want to drink down every drop of your cum until you're fucking dry."
He dives back in, sucking your clit hard, two fingers plunging deep into your tight channel. He pumps them in and out, curling them just right to hit that spot inside you that makes your vision go white.
"Yes, fuck yes, don't stop!" you whimper, your body tensing, your orgasm cresting.
He feels you tightening around his fingers and doubles his efforts, sucking your clit harder, fucking you deeper, determined to make you come undone. And you do, with a loud cry of his name.
As the aftershocks of your orgasm subside, Jake kisses his way back up your body, his lips trailing over your stomach, between your breasts, up the column of your throat. He hovers over you, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction as he takes in your disheveled state.
“I love seeing you like this. Love knowing I can still make you fall apart.” he says while pulling his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing his thick, throbbing cock. Your gaze drops and your mouth waters in anticipation. He smirks at your expression, knowing exactly what you're thinking.
“Want to wrap those pretty lips around my cock and suck me off like you used to?” he whispers and you instinctively nod, moving to bend over in front of him, facing his member.
Jake takes himself in hand, fisting his length as he brings it closer to your face. "Go on, baby. Worship my cock like you used to. Show me how much you've missed it."
You don't hesitate, leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of his dick. He groans at the contact, his fingers tangling in your hair as you take him deeper into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip, lapping up the salty essence of his arousal before taking him inch by inch into your throat.
"Fuck, yes." he hisses, his grip on your hair tightening as you swallow around him. "Just like that, baby. Take it all like the good little cock slut you are."
You relax your throat, letting him slide in until your nose is pressed against his pelvis and he's fully sheathed in your mouth. You hold him there, swallowing around his thick length, feeling it twitch and pulse against your tongue.
"Goddamn, I forgot how fucking good your mouth feels." he grunts, starting to rock his hips, fucking your face with shallow thrusts.
You start to bob your head in time with his thrusts, taking him deep each time before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. Your hand comes up to fondle his balls, rolling them gently in your palm as you work his shaft with your mouth. He pulls you back by your hair and bends down to kiss your cheek softly.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay? Can you stay quiet for me?” he whispers in your ear while stroking your hair.
“Yes.” you whimper and he looks at you with soft, desperate eyes and strokes your cheek.
You do as he commands, laying back on the bed and spreading your legs wide for him. The cool air against your heated core makes you shiver with anticipation. Jake settles between your thighs, his hard length nestling against your dripping slit. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust and a desperate hunger that makes your heart race.
You feel the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance, already slick and ready from your earlier orgasm. With a slow thrust, he pushes forward, your slick walls stretching to suck him in, making him hiss at the sensation. He stays still for a moment, savoring the feel of your heat enveloping him, your walls fluttering around his shaft. Then he starts to move, pulling out slowly before pushing back in deeply.
You can't help but moan at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as he fills and stretches you so perfectly. He leans down to capture the sound with his mouth, swallowing your pleasure as he starts to move faster, his hips snapping against yours.
"Shh, I need you to stay quiet for me." he reminds you, his voice a low growl against your lips. "Don't want to wake the little one up, do we?"
You shake your head, biting your lip to stifle another moan as he pounds into you, his thick cock hitting that spot inside you with each deep thrust. Your breasts bounce with the force of his movements, and he leans down to catch one in his mouth, sucking hard as he fucks you.
"Fuck, look at these tits." he groans around your nipple, his hand coming up to squeeze the other one roughly.
He releases your nipple with a wet pop, his mouth moving to your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He's lost in a haze of pleasure, consumed by the feel of your body beneath his, around him, squeezing him so perfectly.
You're just as lost, your fingers digging into his back, your nails raking down his skin as you hold on for dear life. Each thrust sends sparks of electricity through your veins, building the tension low in your belly. You can feel another orgasm approaching, your walls starting to flutter and clench around his length.
“F-fuck Im cumming.” you cry out.
“Cum for me pretty, milk my fucking cock.” he moans.
Your orgasm crashes over you, your body trembling beneath his as you come undone. You bite your lip hard to keep from screaming, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of your eyes as you ride out the intense waves of your release. Your walls clamp down around his cock, milking him, trying to pull him deeper.
Jake keeps fucking you through it, drawing out your pleasure until you're a boneless, quivering mess beneath him. Just as the aftershocks start to subside, he pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your fluttering heat with a gush of your combined juices.
Before you can miss the feel of him inside you, he's gripping his shaft, stroking it rapidly as he looms over you. With a strangled groan, he starts to come, thick ropes of his cum erupting from the tip to paint your breasts and stomach. It splatters across your heaving chest, dripping down the valley of your cleavage and pooling in your belly button. He pants, trying to catch his breath. He takes some of his cum from your tits and brings it to your lips, making you lick his finger clean.
Now you’re both lying there, sheets twisted, bodies warm, breathing slowly returning to normal. Jake is on his back beside you, one arm bent over his head, chest rising and falling steadily now. You stare at the ceiling, heart still thudding, thoughts catching up too fast.
For a long moment, neither of you says anything. Then Jake exhales like he’s grounding himself.
“So…that still works.” he says. Not bragging. Not surprised. Just stating a fact.
You let out a short breath through your nose. “Yeah. I noticed.”
You turn your head slightly toward him. “I am.”
“We dont have to overthink this.”
He turns his head then, looking at you properly.
“I’m not walking this back.” he adds. “And I’m not making promises.”
You meet his eyes. “Good. I don’t want either.”
He reaches out then, fingers brushing your arm lightly. He leaves them there. You don’t pull away. He settles back against the pillow, eyes drifting shut for a moment.
“We’ll figure it out.” he says quietly.
You dont exactly know what it is you will figure out, but for the moment you trust this small comfort it brings you. Now you just lie there, breathing in the shared silence, knowing tomorrow will come and that tonight exists exactly as it is, without explanation.
© NEPTUNSX, 2025 / do not copy or repost.
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