Just A digital diary Entry @welovestromboli - Tumblr Blog

May 24

Saddle Up! || SJY, 18+

Synopsis:Your best friend was back in town after almost 10 years. And fuck did he get hotter than hell.

Pairing: rancher!Jake x baker!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v, unprotected sex (not for you), virginity loss (f), cum eating, corruption kink, fingering, semi public sex (in a car), ab riding, oral (m and f receiving), head pusher jake my beloved, use of blindfold, use of sex toy (vibrator ring), chocolate sauce (dont ask), dom!jake, sub!reader, breast play, me and my romantic endeavours, best friends to lovers, not proofread

A/N: final installment!!! no because i died whilst reading this fic SIM JAEYUN MY HUSBAND GIVE HIM TO ME JEBAL JEBAL. As always, a big kiss to my baby @wichujunseo I hope she enjoys the ab stuff I wrote specifically for her. I had a shit ton of fun doing this and I hope you guys enjoyed it as well! 💝💝mmwah mmwah now go get eaten out by jake

Word Count: 12.7k (yes its longer than jayhoon's and WHAT)

Series Masterlist

The world says love is a sweet thing—cream, honey, sugar, stuff like that.

Never in your life had you heard such absolute bullshit.

And you’d know! You were a baker after all. A baker with no such sweet things in her life other than the pastries she’d line up on her counters everyday, sugar spun into soft peaks and piped into rosettes.

Tying your hair back, you washed your hands, stepping into the kitchen attached to your bakery. The scent of yeast and flour clung to the walls as you struck a match and lit the ovens. Somewhere far off, a lone coyote called against the horizon and you shook your head.

“Those damned things.” You swore under your breath, flour dusting your cheeks and apron. Outside, the sky bled from indigo to bruised violet to pale gold, sunlight crawling over the dunes.

They said it was strange for a woman to own a shop, stranger still for her to run it alone. But you had inherited the place after your father’s debts swallowed everything else, and you had kept it alive with stubbornness and blistered hands. People could whisper all they liked, but hey, they still lined up for your bread and tarts.

You stepped out front as dawn finally broke, unlocking the door and flipping the wooden sign to OPEN. You set about arranging the small wooden tables and chairs, adjusted the lace curtains and laid out the morning’s pastries in neat rows behind the glass.

Tarts glazed in apricot, cinnamon rolls coiled like sleeping cats, honey cakes brushed with syrup that caught the light. You stared at them for a moment, hands resting on the counter.

The world said love was like this, soft, golden and sweet.

Absolute bullshit.

When you were small, you believed it, watching your parents move around each other in the narrow kitchen of your childhood home, your father’s hand on your mother’s waist and her sweet laughter. The way they would lean close, speaking in murmurs you weren’t meant to hear. It seemed like magic.

You remembered thinking that love must be something glowing, something sacred. Something that made people look at each other the way they did.

But you were older now. Old enough to remember the way your father’s eyes began to wander to other distractions, the way your mother’s laugh grew brittle.

Old enough to understand love wasn't magic. Call it heat, call it touch, call it bodies drawn together by something temporary. Call it lust.

Love, you decided, was simply lust dressed up in prettier words. You had never even been kissed, but you had heard enough whispered confessions from women who came into your shop and lingered over tea.

A gust of wind rattled the door, snapping you back to the present. You exhaled slowly and straightened a tray of sugared biscuits, the idea of ‘I am not lonely’ running through your mind, as you shook your head over your low supply of sweet rum

The bell above the door jingled, and you looked up, arranging your face into polite warmth, to greet the customer. More customers trickled in as the sun climbed higher, cowboy hands with dust clinging to their boots, a pair of young boys sent by their mother for rolls, the postman, who always bought two apple tarts and claimed they were for someone else. You calmly wrapped up packages, counted change with the air of a mathematician and offered your smile, your movements extremely precise, as good after good kept getting sold. All was calm as it ought to be, you thought.

“—told you he’d have that stallion down by noon,” A loud voice pierced through the air, as the bell rang again and a cluster of familiar ranchers entered together.

“Don’t know how he does it.” Another replied, as you kept your head down and sliced their usual order of bread, “Gonna put us all out of business, I’m sure.”

“Ten years gone and he comes back like that.” The first voice continued. Your knife slipped slightly, only slightly. You adjusted your grip and kept cutting, sliding the bread into paper and folding the corners more aggressively than usual.

“He stopped by the smithy yesterday,” One of them said. “Needed new horseshoes, spoke real respectful. Not like some.”

“He always was decent,” another one with silver hair said. “even back then.” A low whistle followed and your heart tightened.

“That’ll be six cents, sir.” You lifted your gaze just long enough to offer a polite expression as you handed over the package, taking the coins the man handed over.

You watched them move out of the building as swiftly as they had entered, waiting for them to fully cross the street before slumping against the wall with a heavy sigh. It was finally the late afternoon, which meant rush hour was over and you’d be free for a few hours before closing up.

Ten years gone and he comes back like that.

Your heart tightened again. You didn’t need clarification, there was only one “new rancher” in town. Only one who had left a decade ago and returned broader, steadier and harder around the edges.

It had been three weeks since he’d returned. Ten years gone, and now three weeks back in town—and he still hadn’t stepped foot in your shop.

Sim Jaeyun.

Why did the Gods ever give you Sim Jaeyun?

You tried not to think of his name too often. It felt dangerous somehow, like pressing on a fresh bruise. You thought back to last week, when you’d heard some older women talking about him, joking about how he wasn't married yet, but he’d probably have women lining up for him at his door soon. You had ignored them—old wives talk—but something churned in your stomach.

Women lining up.

Of course they would. You imagined them—fixing their hair, adjusting their skirts, inventing reasons to wander near the edge of town at his ranch. You imagined him tipping his hat politely, offering that small, slow smile of his.

Did he smile differently now? The boy you remembered used to grin wide, boyish and careless. The man you had glimpsed outside the smithy had smiled like he’d seen things. You sighed as you reached for the sweet vanilla extract.

Jaeyun has always been sweet. Too sweet, all elbows and laughter and earnest promises. He used to bring you wildflowers—dry, stubborn little things that somehow survived in the desert. You would stick them in jars on the counter and pretend they were exotic blooms from some distant land.

He had come back taller now, broader to be precise, sun-browned and all sharp edges. You had seen him from a distance on his first day—riding in at the edge of town, hat low over his eyes.

To be short and straight, he had come back looking like a damn five course meal.

His shoulders filled out his shirt in a way that made it pull across his back when he moved. And those gorgeous hands, veins like a network of rivers, visible and pulsing when he adjusted the brim of his hat. Jaeyun had always been handsome even when he was a boy. But god damn was he a hot piece of…something now.

You told yourself you were too busy to seek him out and that he was busy too, setting up the new ranch he’d bought on the edge of town.It was reasonable that he hadn’t come by yet, but something deep in you was kicking up a storm about it.

You couldn't help but remember your childhood, scraped knees, shared canteens, him carrying sacks of flour twice his size just to prove he could help you, sitting on overturned crates in the back stables of his father’s ranch, listening to you talk about anything and everything. You remembered the joy back then.

Back then.

Your hands stilled for half a second before you reached for the icing sugar.

You had been children, and you had loved him in the way children do—carelessly, completely, foolishly, as if the world were small and safe and permanent. Then his father had sold their land, and Jaeyun had left with the promise that he would come back one day.

“I’ll build you a proper place when I come back.” He said before he left, 15 year old hands wiping away your tears. “With windows that look out over fields.” You had laughed at him. Fields in the desert. What a romantic idea. But he had said it like a promise and you believed him.

Somewhere along the lines of 19, you lost your hope. Your parents weren't getting any better and after your brother left, the house felt carnivorous and brittle, and you found yourself standing in a kitchen staring at hands that were capable of more than sitting still, looking pretty and listening to arguments.

The bakery had always been there, a modest place on the corner, owned by an old widow whose children had long since moved north. When she finally agreed to take you on as an apprentice, you knew that it was your chance to escape.

And it wasn't like you were completely useless either. The old woman admitted that you were quite the Picasso when it came to baking and when she passed, there was no question of ownership; your ties with your parents were already cut and dissolved and you needed a source of income, even if it meant sleeping in the bakery for a few months before you could save up enough to buy a house of your own.

The work was comforting too, in the manner that it was predictable—something that at that point you desperately needed in life. And of course the praise you got for your baking gave you the ego boost. So much so that even the travelers passing through made detours after someone mentioned the girl who made desserts that didn’t taste like dust and disappointment.

“Honey! You there?”

Ahh of course. The friends you made were the best part of it all.

“Coming!” You peeled off your apron, dusting your hands and moving out front to see your friend, who owned the bar downtown.

To be honest, you didn't even remember how you two became friends, only that the incident definitely involved a lot of wine and two drunk women passed out on the front porch of the sheriff’s house.The next morning had arrived with the disapproving, but faintly amused expression of the sheriff’s wife.

“You look alive.” She remarked now, eyes swapping over you critically before softening, “Barely.”

She leaned against the counter on her elbows, sunlight framing her figure. There was always something faintly reckless about her smile, as though she knew exactly how far she could push the world before it pushed back.

“I’ve been up since before the sun,” You leaned back against the wall. “Some of us run respectable establishments, you know.”

“I’ll have you know my establishment is very respectable.” She scoffed lightly, though her cheeky smile remained, “The men merely forget that after their third drink.” Her eyes wandered towards the display shelf behind you, inspecting the newer pastries, “You’ve been holding out on me honey.” She pointed towards one of the darker muffins, “That’s a new one isn't it?”

You reached up and pulled it off, twirling it in your hand, “Ran out of rum so I made this one with scotch.” You handed it to her, “Think it needs a quality check?”

She giggled and took it from you with a little curtsey, immediately attacking the soft side with her teeth. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“I’m so glad I convinced you to make these.” She said through a mouthful of muffin, “I love you so much.”

“I’m a woman in love unfortunately.” You laughed, warmth creeping into your chest, “Speaking of which, I’ll need another delivery of sweet rum by tomorrow. I’m nearly out.”

“In love?” She raised a brow, “With who, I wonder?”

“I ask you for a delivery and that’s the first thing you ask?” You sighed, “One day you’ll admit you’re a thorough romantic.”

She laughed with her whole stomach and so did you. You relaxed around her in a way you rarely did with anyone else, the one person who had seen you in all colours—hungover, furious, exhausted, triumphant. Your friend leaned her elbows on the counter and studied you with a look that made you wary.

“What?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Oh, nothing.” She replied far too innocently. “Just wondering how long you plan on pretending you don’t give a hoot.”

“About who?” Your spine stiffened slightly.

“Aha.” She said triumphantly, “I never said it was a who.” She tilted her head, waving the half eaten muffin in front of you, “Jaeyun’s back in town.” Your heart betrayed you immediately, thudding harder against your ribs.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You said with the air of a royal butler, or in other words—not giving a fuck. But of course you weren't going to admit your innermost thoughts to her, about how you imagined the bell ringing.

Imagined looking up and seeing him there, filling the doorway, hat in hand, sun outlining the breadth of his shoulders, those hands resting briefly against the frame before he stepped inside. Would he stop in his path when he saw you? Would he smile that slow smile? Would he say your name the same way he used to? Your throat tightened unexpectedly, as you pressed your palms flat against the counter to ground yourself.

“You do spill a lot when you’re drunk, you know.” Your friend hummed in disbelief, “And you’ve been staring at that door ever since I came in here.”

“I—”

“If he does come in,” She leaned forward, elbows on the counter, “what will you say to him? Because from our last time, I recall you crying about how much you’d love to slap him across the face if he ever came back.” She grinned, “To quote ‘for leaving me alone all these years’.”

“Oh please.” Heat flared in your cheeks, “That was years ago.”

“Six months but alright.” She said, as you shot her a look sharp enough to slice bread but she only looked on, seemingly delighted, “Just to be sure, you’re not heartbroken are you honey?”

You opened your mouth to answer, and then closed it again to ponder on the question for a minute. You weren't heartbroken, not in the romantic sense at least. You just felt…abandoned. Left behind in a town that felt too small and too loud all at once, left to shoulder things you hadn’t been ready for, left with a promise about windows and fields that had slowly begun to feel foolish.

“It's stupid.” You said finally, “He’s probably busy anyways, he doesn't have time to visit.”

“You’re his best frien—”

“Was.” You corrected her, “Was his best friend.” Your gaze flicked to the door once more and then away, “We’re not children anymore, it's not like he’ll still consider me as his best friend.”

“You’re very good at pretending you know.” She replied gently, earning a groan from you.

“I’m not pretending!” You defended, “Cross my heart, if he comes in front me I’ll just say hello and go on my merry wa—”

It was a miracle your heart hadn't given out yet.

The bell above the door jingled, the sound slicing clean through the air and cleaving through you. Both of you turned at once. And for a split second—just a heartbeat—you thought of what would have happened if he never left town.

Would the man filling the doorway in a way that made the bakery feel suddenly small have been yours? Yours to cherish and love? Yours to plant fields in a desert with?

The first thing you noticed was the breadth of him. The boyish angles you remembered had settled into solid lines, his shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt; his sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms marked by sun and work. His jaw was sharper, dust shadowing it faintly as if the desert had etched itself into his golden skin. God was he a hot piece of something.

“Ladies.” Jaeyun tipped his hat and sauntered in, gait still as careless and cocky as back then. Your body reacted before your mind could reason, your breath catching, your heart leaping violently against your ribs.

Love is lust, you thought.

“Well well well.” Your friend drawled lightly, “I’ve been wanting to catch a glimpse of the new rancher in town." She turned towards him with an easy smile, extending a hand, which he shook, “I’m surprised I haven't seen you by my bar yet, Jaeyun.”

“I’d introduce myself, but it seems you already know me.” Jaeyun laughed lightly and for half a second you forgot how to breathe, “I’ve been meaning stop by Miss, new friend of mine sang a lot of praise about your place.”

“New friend?” Your friend glanced at you briefly before turning her interrogating gaze back to him, “Well, Mr. Jaeyun, three weeks in and a friend already. My my, I’m curious.”

“Said his name was Sunghoon.” Jaeyun removed his hat, running a hand briefly through hair that had grown darker with age. “You know him?” His voice was rich and smooth like melted chocolate.

“Oh don’t I.” Your friend said through gritted teeth, “Oh don’t I know that damned cowboy.”

The words barely registered, as you remained rooted behind the counter, your palms tingling, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. He laughed softly at something she said, the sound low and warm and you felt yourself fall deeper into the void you were traversing.

Your gaze traced him without permission. The way he stood, the way his hands rested against the counter when he leaned slightly forward, fingers long and calloused, a faint scar near his wrist you did not recognize, the line of his throat when he tilted his head.

And those eyes.

Those beautiful eyes. Two galaxies you wanted to dive into and rest your little tired heart in. He was no longer the boy you once ran through the wildflowers with. He was unmistakably a man. And here he was. In your bakery. Skillfully avoiding your gaze.

Your friend’s eyes flickered toward you briefly, sharp and knowing. She reached back without looking and squeezed your hand where it rested against the counter, the contact jolting you back into your body.

“I’ll send someone over with that sweet rum, honey.” She said casually, withdrawing her hand. “Well, it was nice meeting you Mr Jaeyun. I’d recommend the lemon tarts for today.” There was mischief in her tone and something gentler beneath it, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go..….thank Sunghoon.”

Before you could protest, she stepped past him, offering a parting remark about expecting to see him at the bar soon. The bell jingled again as she exited, leaving behind a quiet that felt almost tangible.

And then it was just you and him.

He turned fully toward you and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Hi.”

“So…..”“So?”

The air felt tight in your lungs. You became acutely aware of everything at once—the ticking of the cooling oven in the back, the faint hum of wind outside, the scent of citrus and sugar lingering between you.

“Is it really you?” Jaeyun said, running a hand through his hair again. By god, you wanted to slap him across the face.

And then hug him and never let go.

“It is.” Your throat felt tight, as you diverted your gaze to the floorboards.

“You look the same, love.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. Love, how long has it been since you’d heard that beautiful word dance at his lips?

“We both know that’s a lie.” You forced yourself to straighten as though you weren’t acutely aware of every inch of space between you. “I hear you’ve been busy.”

Something flickered behind his eyes as he traced his gaze over you, as if remembering the lines to his favourite poem, something that he’d read long before, whose emotions he’d never forget even if he forgot its words.

“Getting the ranch set up. Took longer than I expected.” His gaze drifted around the bakery. “Nice place you got.”

“Thank you.” You said politely, as if your pulse wasn't stumbling at the moment.

Jaeyun leaned forward, both hands braced against the counter now. The wood creaked faintly under his weight. The movement brought him closer, you could see the faint scar along his jaw.

“Why won’t you look at me, love?” He asked quietly. Your breath hitched. You had been studying the floorboards again, as if they held answers.

Jaeyun’s slender fingers came up carefully, brushing beneath your chin, gripping it with the softest touch just guiding your face upward with a gentleness that felt almost reverent. Slowly and reluctantly, your gaze lifted to his. Your pulse thundered in your ears.

“Hmm, maybe I was wrong.” His eyes held yours with an unwavering intensity, “You do look different.” His fingers smoothed from your chin to cup your cheek in his palm, “You look stronger, love. What happened to that girl I knew all those years ago who’d hide from sheepdogs hm?”

To hear those words felt like stepping into sunlight after years indoors—blinding, warm and overwhelming. Quite akin to feeding a starved angel ambrosia. All they’d do is throw it all up, having accustomed to the feeling of hunger.

“She died when you left her.” You heard yourself say, the sentence slipping out before you could soften it. There it was. A fucking slap to the face. His expression shifted, something heavy clouding behind his eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

“I know.” You did know. You had always known. But knowing wouldn't erase the emptiness, "Couldn't have written me a damn letter, Jaeyun?” Your vision blurred before you could stop it. You hated that your eyes burned, that after all these years of building up your walls, one look from him could destroy them.

“Love I—’

“You don’t get to call me that.” You laughed crudely. You shook your head, stepping back a fraction, breaking the contact. Your hands came up defensively, not against him, but against the swell in your chest. Jaeyun studied you as though searching for something familiar beneath the years.

“You left.” You said, and your voice trembled despite your efforts. “You left and you didn’t write. You didn’t come back. And I kept thinking—” Your breath hitched. “I kept thinking maybe you forgot about me.”

“Love, don't say that.” Jaeyun’s expression changed, hurt, immediate and unguarded. “I could never forget you.”

“Then why did it feel like you did, Jaeyun?” The tears spilled fully now, quiet and hot down your cheeks, “Why did it take you three fucking weeks to come see me?” Your hands trembled, “Do you know what it was like? Watching everyone move on like you were just another boy who left? I didn’t even get to be angry properly because I knew you didn’t have a choice.”

“I was alone,” The words scraped their way out. “Everything was falling apart at home. My brother was gone. My parents were—” You stopped, shaking your head. “And I kept thinking you’d walk back in any day to hand me a stupid flower and tell me a stupid joke.”

Your chest heaved. You wiped your eyes, though they filled up again when you looked at him. Your heart stuttered again, the absolute beauty of him knocking the air from your lungs.

“I needed my best friend,” You whispered, “and you weren't there.” You took a deep shuddering breath in, “So forgive me if I don’t let you call me what you used to all those years ago, Jaeyun.”

The space between you felt unbearable. Yes, you wanted to go to him. Yes you wanted to throw yourself at him and cry your heart out. You wanted to do all that. So what was it that held you back?

Was it the hatred you had for him leaving you? The fear of breaking down the walls that had kept you safe all these years?

Or was it the tiny tug at your heart that wanted him, needed him, to step to you first?

Jaeyun moved then, rounding the counter quietly, boots soft against the floor. The familiar scent of sun and leather and something unmistakably him drifted closer, making your pulse trip. For a split second, you thought he might stop short.

He didn’t, stepping into your space slowly as if giving you enough time to retreat

You didn’t, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, as if this was routine.

His arms came around you with a firmness that stole the breath from your lungs. One arm wrapped high around your shoulders, pulling you fully into him, sliding up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently into your hair. The other anchored at your lower back, spreading warm and solid against you as though afraid you might disappear.

Heat bled through your clothes where his chest pressed against yours. His heart was beating hard; you felt it against your cheek as your forehead tipped forward without permission.

You clutched at the back of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like you were afraid of falling. The material bunched beneath your grip and he tightened his hold in response, pulling you impossibly closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

It was the kind of hug that wasn’t polite and sweet. It was desperate, like a wolf clawing at the sheep it once loved.

Years folded in on themselves, the ache of waiting, the nights you pretended you didn’t care, the empty space beside you where he used to sit—all of it seemed to press into that single embrace.

Your face buried against his chest, breath shaking as it hit the cotton of his shirt. He was warm in a way that steadied the world beneath your feet. His chin rested against the crown of your head like it had always belonged. One of his hands shifted, splaying against your back, fingers flexing slightly as if reassuring himself you were real.

You felt him exhale—slow and heavy—against your hair. Your tears soaked into his shirt, but neither of you moved to pull away. His grip didn’t loosen when your shoulders trembled. If anything, he held you tighter, arms firm and protective, he was bracing against a storm and choosing to stand in it with you.

Your heartstring tugged again.

You hadn’t realized how cold you’d been until you felt warm again.

“I’m sorry.” His voice went to your soul, “I know it won’t do anything, but I am sorry.” His fingers curled gently at the nape of your neck, thumb brushing once against your hairline, “I missed you so much, love.” His forehead brushed yours, as you clung to him harder, “Not a day passed where I didn't think about you.”

You let out a broken laugh that dissolved into another sob. “I was so damn angry,” You confessed. “And I missed you so much it felt stupid, Yeun.”

His arms tightened around you at the sound of that nickname. Yeun, he never knew his own name to sound so melodic.

“I’ll make it up.” Jaeyun said into your hair, “I swear I’ll make up all that time we lost, love.” The words vibrated through his chest into you, breaking something slightly open inside you, “Pinky promise?”

A small, watery laugh escaped you. “You’re so stupid.” You muttered into his chest.

“That I am.” He replied softly.

His hand moved slowly up and down your back in reassurance, softening the ache that had settled in your chest.

Love is lust, you thought.

Were you willing to allow him to make it feel kinder?

______________________

The next few days felt like a fever dream.

Jaeyun came in the next morning. And the morning after that. And the one after that.

Always at different times, as if trying to convince both of you that it wasn’t routine, sometimes just before the lunch rush, leaning casually against the display case while you boxed pastries, sometimes late afternoon, when the sunlight slanted gold and painted him in honeyed light.

Jaeyun slipped back into conversation as if the years were only a misplaced afternoon, cracking his silly little jokes, nudging at you when you got too serious and teasing you about your frazzled hair after attending to a lot of customers at once (“Didn’t know a witch lived in this town.” “There is a knife in my hands Sim Jaeyun.”)

He was a lingering presence at your bakery, sometimes perched on one of the stools near the counter, boot hooked on the rung, sometimes helping carry a flour sack in without asking. Once, you caught him sweeping near the doorway after a group of teenagers tracked dirt across your clean floor.

“You don’t work here,” You muttered.

He shrugged. “Looks like you could use the help.” It was infuriating how good he looked doing simple mundane things.

It was infuriating how much you wanted to jump on him and bite his arms.

As if to push the knife in deeper, customers began to expect him. The sheriff, Jay, asked if he was on payroll. Your friend only smirked every time she walked in and saw him there, like she’d predicted this outcome long ago. By the end of the week, his presence no longer startled you. It settled around you instead like background music.

But perhaps the most terrified person in the entire town was Jaeyun himself.

When the bakery quieted and you were turned away from him—reaching for a jar on the highest shelf or bending slightly over the counter to scribble an order—Jaeyunfound himself forgetting whatever he was about to say.

You had changed. Of course you had.

The girl he used to race through wildflowers with had grown into something softer and sharper all at once. There was confidence in the way you moved now, your laughter slow and warm. And it did something dangerous to him.

The first time he truly noticed it was when you stepped into the sunlight by the window, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears, the late afternoon glow catching along the curve of your cheek. He had meant to make a joke. Instead, his breath had stalled in his chest.

By god, were you gorgeous.

The second time was when you bent over in front of him to pick up something on the floor and Jaeyun had to drag his eyes away from the slightest peek of your ass in your panties when your skirt lifted up.

By god were you so fucking gorgeous.

Of course he had always known you to be pretty, even back then, beautiful in a way that almost felt unfair. Jaeyun often found himself thinking about you at inconvenient times. Out at the ranch, reins loose in his grip, staring across dry land, the image of you looking up at him through your lashes would pop into his mind and he’d have to go inside to take care of his little……problem.

It stole the air from him every single time and sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he would study you with a kind of stunned reverence he didn’t dare let you see. Every curve of your body, every single line and dot that shaped you, every detail that he longed to see up close.

And your legs of course.

What he would do to be suffocated by those legs.

The realization that he was thinking such thoughts about you—his best friend—did something complicated in his chest. Awe, regret, desire all tangled together. There were moments he had to drag his gaze away just to breathe properly again.

But god damn those fucking legs.

One evening, just before closing, you found him leaning against the doorway, sleeves rolled up, forearms (veins, veins, veins) dusted faintly with flour from helping you knead dough.

“You know,” Jaeyun said lightly, “if you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to start expecting benefits.”

You snorted. “You get a free croissant and suddenly you think you’re staff?”

“I think I deserve at least a name tag.”

You wiped your hands on your apron, failing to hide your smile. The sky outside was streaked with deep pinks and purples, when you finally locked the door and flipped the sign to Closed, he was still there, leaning against the fence, hat in hand, hair gently blowing in the wind.

“Where are you rushing off to today?” Jaeyun drawled in that tone that always had butterflies flying in your stomach.

“Nowhere.” You hummed slowly, stepping onto the street, “Just got a bottle of wine at home that’s calling my name.” His gaze lifted to yours, steady but careful as he joined you in walking down the street. “I can share.” You added, as if it were an afterthought.

“I’d like that,” Jaeyun said, grinning his goofy grin.

And that was how you ended up here.

The wine caught the light, deep and red and slow as it filled your glass again, third glass of the evening to be precise. The laughter bubbled up between you, warm and easy, as Jaeyun leaned back against the sofa cushions, his arm stretched out along the backrest, fingers dangling just close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

The glass of wine sat heavy in your hand, the deep crimson liquid swirling as you took a slow sip, letting the tartness linger on your tongue. His stories from the ranch—tales of stubborn horses and endless sunrises—had you both in stitches, the kind of joy that felt like slipping back into an old, comfortable rhythm after all those years apart.

But as the evening deepened, the conversation shifted, meandering from the lighthearted to something more personal. Marriage came up first, Jaeyun mentioning offhand how some of the ranch hands back west had tied the knot, settling down with women who'd followed them into the dust.

“Never seemed like my path thought.” His voice dropped a notch, eyes flicking to yours with a curiosity that made your pulse quicken. “And you, love? Anyone ever catch your eye?”

You did, you idiot.

His hand, which had been resting innocently on his thigh, shifted slightly, the tips of his fingers now brushing the edge of your knee through the thin fabric of your pants. It was accidental—or so it seemed—but the contact sent a spark up your leg. You swallowed, setting your glass down on the coffee table, the clink echoing in the sudden quiet of the room.

“Not really.” Your voice was softer than intended, “But you know ten years is a long time. You must have met some women too.”

Jaeyun's grin faded into something more thoughtful, his gaze drifting to the window where the streetlights cast faint shadows across the floor. He paused, and in that moment, his mind wandered to the women he'd known—fleeting encounters in dusty motels or under starlit skies, bodies pressing close in the heat of the night.

But as he thought of them, their faces blurred, replaced by yours: the way your lips curved when you laughed, the flush creeping up your neck now. He imagined pinning you down, thrusting deep until you gasped his name, writhing beneath him, your melodic moans filling the air. The thought stirred something low in his gut, his cock twitching faintly against the confines of his jeans.

“A few.” Jaeyun said, hand inching just a fraction closer to your thigh. “Nobody that stuck though. Just... passing through, you know?”

He turned the question back, his fingers now fully resting against your leg, a light pressure that made your breath hitch. “You haven’t answered my question though, love. Who's been making your heart race while I was gone, hmm?”

You gasped softly when his hand squeezed your thigh gently, his eyes raking up and down your body. The rancher life had sculpted him into something powerful, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt, veins tracing paths along his forearms as he sipped his wine, his lips faintly stained red.

Snap out of it!

“You think you’re the only one who can make my heart race?” You asked, pressing your arms together. His eyes flickered down for half a second to your cleavage in your tank top, bingo, “Really Yeun?”

“Am I not?” Jaeyun said, running a tongue over his lips, oh fuck him, “Isn’t that why you’re not answering my question, love?”

“Hmm maybe.” You giggled, “I’ll admit it, there’s no one yet.” You sighed and tipped your head back against the headrest, closing your eyes, making sure to curve your body just right so he could see your chest properly, “Never even kissed anybody you know.” The wine had loosened your tongue, “I’ve read about it of course, sex and all that.” The warmth of his touch had emboldened you, “Do you think it feels good, Yeun?”

Jaeyun's eyes darkened with desire as he took in your words, his gaze lingering on the swell of your breasts before snapping back up to meet yours. His hand slid further up your thigh, fingers digging into your soft flesh possessively.

“It feels amazing, love.” He rumbled, his voice a deep, seductive purr. "You have no idea how good it feels." He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, “Tastes juust as sweet as your pastries, if you want a comparison so badly.”

You shivered at his words, pulse pounding in your ears. You'd never been touched like this before, never felt someone’s hands on you with such blatant hunger. It felt intoxicating.

The room went still, save for the soft hum of the clock on the wall. Jaeyun's hand stilled on your leg, his thumb tracing a slow circle that sent shivers racing across your skin. He searched your face, his expression a mix of surprise and something deeper, tender.

“Would you like to, angel?” He murmured voice low and intimate, “Be kissed I mean.”

Your heart pounded, a rush of nerves flooding through you. Your cheeks burned as you met his gaze, was it really a sin to have your best friend be your first? Just two days ago you two were sweetly baking cookies together. And now you were here, your mind screaming at you to get onto that sweet, sweet lap of his.

Lust had never felt so damn euphoric.

Your movements were slow and careful as you moved, propelled by a desperate need to feel his lips on yours. With a sudden burst of courage, you climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Jaeyun's eyes went wide with surprise, then darkened with desire as he took in your position, setting his glass down, but not touching you yet.

“And if I said yes?” You kept your gaze on him, eyes hooded, “What would you do if I said yes, Jaeyun?” His hand slid up to cup your cheek, rough palm gentle against your skin, which then traced down to cup your jaw, thumb tracing your lower lip.

“Then I suppose….” His voice was smooth with unleashed desire, “I’d do this.”

Jaeyun’s lips met yours softly at first, a brush of warmth that made your eyes flutter shut. The kiss deepened slowly, his mouth moving against yours with a deliberate tenderness, tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you parted them, letting him in.

He tasted of wine and sugar, mixed with the faint salt of his skin. Your hands found his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle there as the kiss grew hungrier, his free hand settling on your waist, pulling you nearer.

“Fuck…” He mumbled into the kiss. He tore his mouth away from yours only to blaze a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth scraping delicately over your racing pulse.

“Yeun—ah…” You said, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth at the foreign noises coming from your mouth. Jaeyun only chuckled into the curve of your neck.

“That feel good, love?” He cupped your breast through your top, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, “My pretty angel likes when I touch her like that hmm?”

“Yeunnn” You whined, hips moving against his hard length unconsciously.

“What happened, my sweet angel?” He lifted his head to meet your gaze, “Tell me what you want, love.”

“I–” You found yourself squirming beneath him as his mouth explored your throat, his hands teasing your body with expert touches that had you aching for more, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer, “want you to fuck me.” Your words were barely audible, only spurring Jaeyun on.

“What was that?” He said, hand reaching up to grip the back of your head, "Couldn't hear you, love, say that again.”

“I want you to fuck me!” You whimpered, cheeks burning at his words, “Please?” Jaeyun silenced your pleas with a kiss, lips claiming yours as he jut his hips up. You shuddered at the feeling, so big and hard and hot against you.

"Bedroom," Jaeyun said, his eyes blazing. "Now."

With a jerky nod, you let him guide you off the couch and lead you towards your bedroom, anticipation and arousal building with each step, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that sent your pulse racing anew. The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp, the bed inviting with its rumpled sheets.

Jaeyun turned to you, his hands framing your face again as he kissed you once more, slower this time, savoring. His fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, slipping under to brush the bare skin of your stomach.

You shivered, arching into his touch, and he broke the kiss to murmur against your ear, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don't.” You replied, voice steady despite the tremor in your limbs. Emboldened, you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his chest, tanned and marked with faint scars. Your hands explored him, tracing the ridges of muscle, the warmth of his skin under your palms.

He helped you out of your clothes next, patient and reverent, top discarded, then pants sliding down your legs until you stood in just your underwear. His eyes roamed over you, appreciative and hungry.

“You're so gorgeous, love.” He said simply, stepping closer to kiss your shoulder, then your chest, lips lingering on the swell of your breasts through the fabric.

His mouth found yours in a brief, heated makeout—lips pressing firm, tongue slipping in to taste you, exploring with a gentleness that made your knees weak. It was electric, his stubble grazing your chin as you reached for his jeans, fumbling with the button, and he assisted, kicking them off along with his boxers.

God he looked so perfect thick and hard, curving slightly upward, the head already glistening with precum. You stared, curiosity and desire mixing in your core, an ache building between your thighs.

“Staring are we?” He chuckled, setting you down gently on the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs.

“N-No.” You muttered, acting as if you weren't on the verge of having a heart attack with how hard your heart was beating.

“Calm down, love.” Jaeyun's hands were everywhere and nowhere at once, soft and reverent, “We’ll go slow yeah?” He cupped your face first, kissing you deeper now, slower, his tongue coaxing yours in lazy circles.

“You're beautiful, angel.” He breathed, trailing kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at your collarbone. He was so careful, like you were something precious, “Tell me if it's too much.” But you shook your head, pulling him closer.

His mouth descended, lips closing around one nipple, sucking gently while his tongue flicked over it. You moaned, low and surprised, your back bowing as heat pooled between your legs. Jaeyun laid you back on the bed, hovering over you, his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing you. You felt so vulnerable under his gaze—your books had never said anything about this odd feeling in your chest.

“Need to stretch you out first, yeah?” He settled between your thighs. His hand cupped your pussy, fingers parting your folds gently, and you tensed, unused to the touch. “Relax for me angel. I've got you.” One finger pressed against your entrance, slick with your growing arousal, and he pushed in slowly, “Ever touched yourself like this, love?”

Your fingers were nothing compared to his, you couldn't even answer him, mind already hazy. The stretch was unfamiliar, a burn that quickly melted into pleasure as he curled his finger inside you, stroking that sensitive spot.

“Yeun…oh! Oh godddd that’s…amazing.” The sensation built, waves of heat radiating from your core, your walls clenching around his digit. You writhed beneath him, moans spilling freely, amazed at how your body responded—wet sounds filling the room as he pumped his finger deeper, preparing you.

“Like that?” He added a second finger, scissoring them to open you up, his thumb circling your clit in firm, steady motions, “My pretty angel likes my fingers?”

“Yes—oh, Jaeyun!” The words dissolved into a whimper as he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

“You're so tight, love.” He groaned, watching your face, his free hand stroking your thigh. “Gonna feel incredible around me.” The praise sent shivers through you, and in the heat of the moment you reached down, palming his cock.

“Tch tch.” Jaeyun clicked his tongue, “So impatient.” He worked you steadily, thumb on your clit, building the rhythm until your breaths came in pants, body tensing, “Cum for me first, love.”

When you shattered, it was with a guttural cry, pussy pulsing around his fingers, cum coating his hand in a rush of warmth. He didn't stop, drawing out the waves until you were trembling.

“Yeun Yeun—oh ohhhhh” You whined, already feeling your bones give out. Jaeyun withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, tasting you with a groan.

“So fucking sweet, angel.” He settled between your thighs, hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, then higher, breath hot against your core, “Taste like heaven for me.”

“Ahh—Yeun…” You moaned loud, propping yourself up by the backs of your elbows to see just what he was doing. You caught sight of his drunken eyes between your legs, “Yeun what—oh fuck!”

His tongue pressed, pressed, pressed flat against your pussy, lapping up the remnants of your earlier release. He sucked your clit gently, then delved deeper, tongue fucking into you, exploring every inch. Your hands fisted the sheets, thighs quivering as he ate you out with focused intensity, nose brushing your clit, lips sealed around your folds.

“Jaeyun!” You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue circled your clit, flicking it with teasing licks that sent jolts of ecstasy up your spine, “Yeun oh god—right there right there!”

Your pleas made him moan desperately into your folds, his dick straining, aching to plunge into your tight heat. He added a finger alongside his tongue, pumping it in and out while he sucked harder on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge, but he held back just enough, savoring your begging as your arousal dripped down his chin.

“Oh god, Yeun, please.” Your voice broke, your body was on fire, every nerve lit up, thighs trembling around his head. The pressure built fast in your belly, coiling tight, but it's not enough—you needed more. “Fuck me, please!” You begged, your words tumbling out needy, hips grinding against his face. “Want you in me Yeun please please—ahh fuck fuck!”

Jaeyun lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips shiny with your juices, eyes dark and feral as he stared down at you. Your pussy throbbed from his tongue's relentless assault, clit swollen and sensitive, the ache deep inside you screaming for fulfillment. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug grin curling his lips as he heard your ragged breaths and saw the desperation etched on your face.

“Look at you, love.” He murmured, voice husky and low, “Begging like that……driving me insane angel.” He rose, kissing you deeply so you tasted yourself on his tongue, “Pretty girl wants my cock so bad hmm? What have you been reading while I was gone, sweetheart?”

You didn’t have it in you anymore to answer, instead staring at his cock, long and girthy, veins pulsing along the shaft, the head already leaking pre-cum. He was built like everything else about him, overwhelming and powerful. Jaeyun positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the tip through your slick folds.

“Ah—Yeun…feels so good.” You whispered, a mix of awe and nerves in your voice. Jaeyun smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“We’ll go slow angel.” He promised, reaching down to place both your hands on his shoulders, “Ready?”

At your shy nod, Jaeyun smiled and then pushed in, the head breaching you with an agonizingly slow thrust. It split you open, the stretch intense, bordering on pain as your pussy yielded to his thickness.

God this man was so fucking big.

“Yeun!” You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, but he paused, kissing your forehead and your cheeks.

“Breathe, love. You're doing so well.” Inch by inch, he sank deeper, filling you completely, your walls fluttering around his cock as it bottomed out, stilling to let you adjust, forehead pressed to yours, breaths shared in the intimate space.

The fullness was indescribable—every ridge, every pulse of him inside you. “Yeun—feel so full fuckkk.” You had no idea what you were saying at that point, every single thought just Jaeyun Jaeyun Jaeyun. He groaned, burying his face in your neck, holding still until you adjusted, your hips starting to rock tentatively.

“So tight, angel.” He whispered, “You doing alright?”

“Mmhh…” You sighed, “Feel so good Yeun.” You slowly wrapped your legs around him, nails digging into his back, “Move….please.”

When you urged him on, he began to move—slow thrusts, pulling out almost to the tip before sliding back in, his cock dragging along your inner walls. The friction built pleasure steadily, your amazement turning to bliss as he fucked you softly, hips rolling in a gentle rhythm.

“Feel—hah fuck you’re so tight—-feel good love?” He asked, voice strained, and you nodded, tangling your fingers into his hair. His hands roamed your body, one pinching your nipple, the other gripping your hip, but always tender, like he was savoring every moment.

The pace stayed languid, his thick cock stretching you with each pass, hitting spots that made stars burst behind your eyelids. Sweat beaded on his muscular chest, dripping onto your skin as he leaned down to kiss you, tongues tangling in time with his thrusts. Your climax built gradually, coiling tight in your belly, and you clenched around him, crying out his name.

“Close—Yeun I’m, fuck..…close” You felt him speed up, just a fraction, grinding against your clit.

You shattered first, pussy spasming around his cock, waves of ecstasy crashing over you soaked him with your release. Jaeyun kissed you through it, murmuring your name like a prayer, pace quickening as his own release neared.

He followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled you with hot cum, groaning your name like a prayer.

“Fuck, love……so perfect.” He panted, still buried inside, holding you close as you both caught your breath, the aftershocks trembling through your joined bodies, “You ok sweetheart?”

“More.” You mumbled, eyes half shut but god you wanted to feel that again and again and again, “Want moreee Yeun, please?”

“More?” A breathy chuckle came from him, “You sure, love? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Just fuck me already, Jaeyun."

He didn't hesitate this time. Flipping you onto your stomach, he hiked your hips up, slamming back into your cum-slick pussy with a forceful thrust. The gentleness evaporated, replaced by raw power—his muscular body driving into you hard, cock pounding deep, splitting you wider with each brutal stroke.

“Like that, love?” The bed creaked ominously, headboard thumping against the wall as he fucked you relentlessly, one hand fisting your hair, the other slapping your ass lightly to spur you on.“God, sweet little pussy looovess me so much.”

You moaned into the pillow, the intensity overwhelming, pleasure bordering on too much as his thick shaft battered your cervix. “Yes, Jaeyun...harder! Fuck!”

He obliged, hips snapping faster, balls slapping against your clit, the room filling with the wet sounds of him railing you. Sweat slicked your skin, his muscles flexing with every plunge, and you pushed back, meeting his thrusts, chasing another high. The bed groaned louder, springs protesting, and you felt it—the frame shifting under the force.

With a final, savage push, he drove in deep, and the bed gave way, one leg buckling with a sharp crack. You both tumbled slightly, laughing through gasps as he kept fucking you on the tilted mattress, undeterred.

Jaeyun flipped you to face him, his cock hammered into you, stretching your pussy to its limits, and you came again, screaming his name as your walls milked him. He whined high, pumping another load of cum into you, hot and thick, collapsing as the bed fully surrendered beneath you.

“Oh god.” Jaeyun panted, slowly but surely pulling out of you after a few minutes of hard breathing, “Oh my god I am so sorry.”

“Yeun just—” You said, eyes fluttering close as exhaustion washed over you, “—just shhhh.”

“I broke your be—”

“Shhh.”

In the aftermath, tangled in sheets on the broken bed, he pulled you close, kissing your temple as you surrendered to the warmth of his bed, not giving a fuck about anything other than the sleep that was threatening to overtake you.

“Good night, my angel.”

_____________________

A few days had passed since that unforgettable night in your bedroom, you two had fallen back into the easy rhythm of best friends, but now laced with stolen glances and lingering touches that sent sparks through your skin.

The desert sun beat down relentlessly as you helped him out at the ranch that afternoon, hauling feed buckets under the vast, cloudless sky. You had offered to help mostly to prove—to him and to yourself—that you could exist in his world as easily as he had begun to exist in yours. So you had tied your hair back with a ribbon that was already slipping loose, rolled your sleeves to your elbows, and followed him out.

The land stretched wide and gold around you, wind combing through tall grass in lazy waves. It was quieter than the town, open and airy.

You tried not to stare at the way his shoulders shifted beneath his shirt when he lifted a saddle or how easily he handled the tools laid out near the fence or how his shirt clung to his torso.

He explained something about new horseshoes—how the ground out here had been rougher than expected, how he wanted to make sure the fit was right before taking the horse too far and you were nodding away like you hadn't been watching his hands for the past 30 minutes.

You'd chosen your outfit carefully that morning: a particularly short skirt that barely skimmed your thighs, the fabric light and teasing against your legs. Every time you bent to pick something up, you caught Jaeyun's eyes flicking downward, his jaw tightening. You could tell from the way his gaze darkened, how he adjusted his stance when you brushed past him, why did no one tell you the art of seduction felt so amazing?

And god, you were turned on too, mesmerized by his veiny hands gripping the tools, the cords of muscle standing out as he worked, and those defined abs peeking from under his hem when he stretched. The memory of them under your fingers from that night made your core ache.

The horse—a tall chestnut mare with a white blaze down her nose—snorted softly as he ran a steady palm along her flank. She stamped once, impatient but not wild.

“Well she’s certainly got spirit.” You said lightly, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“Reminds me of someone else I know.” He glanced at you, amused. “You’ll be fine.”

He tightened the girth, checked the stirrups, then swung himself up into the saddle in one smooth, practiced motion. The movement was effortless, and for a brief second you simply stared. From atop the horse, he looked unfairly at home, sun catching in his hair, one hand resting loose on the reins. He leaned down slightly, extending his hand toward you.

“Come on.” Your stomach flipped at the sound of his voice. You stepped closer, boots crunching against dirt. His hand wrapped around yours—warm and calloused and before you could overthink it, he tugged.

You let out a small startled breath as your feet left the ground. The world tilted and then you were lifted, guided up and over, settling onto the saddle in front of him.

Your back pressed against his chest. It was an accident at first, a byproduct of space.

But then he adjusted you gently by the hips, positioning you more securely, and the contact became deliberate.

Close.

Far too close.

You were acutely aware of everything, the heat of him at your back, the solid line of his torso. The steady rise and fall of his breathing that brushed against your shoulder blades. Your hands hovered awkwardly before settling at the front of the saddle.

“Comfortable?” He asked. You nodded, though your voice felt lodged somewhere in your throat. The horse shifted beneath you, muscles coiling with contained energy. Jaeyun’s boots nudged lightly at her sides, and she began to move—slow at first, a careful walk around the paddock.

The rhythm was unfamiliar. Each step rolled through your hips, gentle but undeniable. You felt it everywhere—through your thighs, your spine, the space where his legs bracketed yours. His arm came around you loosely to guide the reins, forearm brushing against your waist, a highly practical thing.

It did absolutely nothing to steady your pulse.

The wind lifted strands of your hair, carrying the scent of leather and grass and him. You could feel the warmth of his chest through your shirt.

“You’re stiff, angel.” He murmured, voice close to your ear. You exhaled, trying to relax your shoulders.

“I’m not used to this.” You said, “More of a baker myself.”

“Of course you are.” Jaeyun chuckled, “I’ve got you.”

Highly simple words and they were making you go insane.

The mare picked up into a slow trot. The change jolted you slightly, and instinctively your fingers tightened on the saddle. The motion was sharper now, bouncing you subtly back against him. He adjusted without hesitation, his hand sliding more securely around your middle. Your breath hitched.

Every small shift brought you into closer contact, his chest against your back, his thigh firm along yours, the brush of his chin briefly grazed your hair when the horse’s stride lifted you both.

You tried to focus on the horizon, on the open sky, on anything but the heat blooming under your skin.

“She’s moving well.” He said, more to himself than to you. You nodded again, though your thoughts were far from horseshoes. The mare startled then, a sudden surge forward when something rustled near the fence.

Why were the gods never on your side?

The trot snapped into something faster, tearing your breath from your lungs as the ground seemed to blur slightly. Your body pitched forward, unprepared for the speed.

Jaeyun’s arm shot firmly across your torso, locking around your waist. In one fluid motion, he pulled you back flush against him, your back colliding with his chest. His other hand tightened on the reins, guiding the horse back under control, but his arm never loosened.

You felt the strength in it, the tension, the protective instinct that had flared without a second thought and you were absolutely dead.

What an extraordinary person you were, you thought, this man had taken your virginity and this was what you were bubbling over.

The mare slowed after a few heartbeats, settling once more into a manageable pace. But he didn’t release you. His forearm remained braced across your middle, palm splayed firmly at your side. You could feel the pressure of each finger through the fabric of your shirt.

Your entire body was pressed to his now—hips aligned, shoulders pinned gently back against him. His chest rose and fell against your spine, slower now, but still charged with the remnants of adrenaline.

“You’re okay.” He said, low and close. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure what ‘okay’ meant in this context, “I think that’s enough for one day.” The arm around you softened slightly but stayed in place, his thumb brushing once against your side.

You became painfully aware of how perfectly you fit there. The world seemed smaller now, narrowed to the space between his heartbeat and yours.

You were fucked.

As the sun began its slow descent, painting the dunes in oranges and golds, you two slowly walked back to his truck, having taken him up on his offer to drop you home. Your legs were a little wobbly from the unfamiliar rhythm of the saddle, and he noticed immediately, offering his arm without comment when the ground dipped unevenly.

Neither of you spoke much, not because there wasn’t anything to say, but because the quiet had become strangely comfortable. You climbed into the passenger seat with a small sigh, leaning your head back against the cushion while Jaeyun slid into the driver’s seat and sat there for a moment, forearms resting on the steering wheel, catching his breath.

You glanced over at him. A strand of hair had fallen across his forehead and there was a flush high on his cheekbones. How very handsome.

“You know,” You said after a moment with a lazy giggle, “I always carry chocolate sauce in my purse.”

Jaeyun blinked. He turned his head slowly toward you, brow creasing in confusion.

“You what?”

You reached into your bag with theatrical seriousness, rummaging around until your fingers wrapped around the small bottle you kept tucked away, holding it up triumphantly. “For emergencies.”

“For emergencies,” Jaeyun repeated, mouth twitching.

“Refreses me.” You nodded sagely, “Kinda like lemonade.”

“I don't think that’s how it works, sweetheart.” He laughed, the sound of a gentle midnight drizzle.

“It absolutely is.” You leaned back in the seat again, dangling the bottle between your fingers. “You never know when you’ll need a little sweetness.”

Jaeyun huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. But then—unfortunately for him—his brain betrayed him.

An image of you arrived immediately, chocolate on your lips, your mouth glistening sweet while you laughed the way you were laughing now.

And suddenly his throat felt dry and his dick felt a bit harder.

“You’d look good like that.”

Great fucking job, Jaeyun.

Silence fell as his words slipped out before he realized they had. Your hand stilled in mid air as he froze. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then your head turned slowly toward him.

“…What?” You asked softly. His eyes widened slightly, like he’d just realized he’d stepped directly into a trap of his own making.

“I’m so sorry—that’s not what I meant, I just—” But the explanation died halfway out with a shuddering breath as he saw the way your eyes traced over him.

There was something in your gaze now that hadn’t been there a second ago, something curious, and maybe hazardous.

“Just what, Yeun?” You said, the sound light, moving your thigh closer to his so your skirt hem brushed his leg, “You think I’d look good with chocolate all over my lips?” His breath hitched, pupils dilating as he glanced at your short skirt again, then up to your breasts straining against your top in the heat, “You think you want to kiss it off my lips, hm?”

The dare hung in the air, your eyes locking on his, his grip on the steering wheel hardened. He swallowed hard, clearly imagining it—your mouth on his skin, the absolute sweetness of you—his sweet angel.

“Love, just—” He murmured, but your hand grazed his thigh and the tension snapped like a taut rope.

“Yeun…” You whispered, your hand on his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under your palm. “Can you lie back for me, please?”

It was safe to say you had zero idea what you were doing—hell the art of seduction just meant getting yourself lost in the haze of your own horniness. But the way Jaeyun’s breaths came a little too quick and the way his dick strained against his pants was driving you bat shit insane.

His eyes burned with desire, fixed on your breasts as they rose and fell with your breaths. He was obsessed with them—the way they bounced slightly when you moved, the soft curves pressing against the fabric.

You climbed onto him without any hesitation, skirt riding up your thighs as you settled onto his lap, giving one experimental shift of your hips. Jaeyun groaned, shifting to recline the driver's seat fully, his back arching against the leather as his shirt pulled up, exposing his chiseled abs, each ridge etched deep.

You ran a tongue over your lips as you clicked open the cap of the bottle, drizzling it slooowlyy over his stomach, watching it pool in the valleys between his abs, trailing down toward his navel. The scent filled the air—rich cocoa mixing with his musky sweat. Jaeyun hissed at the cool touch, his cock twitching visibly in his jeans.

“Angel... that's cold.” But his voice was thick with arousal, his veiny hands gripping the seat edges to steady himself.

Straddling his hips, your short skirt hiked up completely, exposing your panties to the air between you. You leaned down, breasts brushing his chest, and he groaned again, eyes glued to them, one hand reaching up to cup one through your top, thumb rubbing your hardening nipple.

“So fucking perfect.” He muttered, squeezing gently, turned on beyond words by their fullness, the way they filled his palm, “How did I get so lucky hm?” You moaned softly, the sound muffled as you lowered your mouth to his skin.

“Lucky?” Your breath ghosted over his stomach, “Still haven't asked me to be yours, properly Jaeyun.”

Your tongue flicked out, lapping at the chocolate sauce on his lower abs first, the flavor bursting sweet and bitter against the salt of his body. You licked in long strokes, tracing each defined muscle, sucking lightly to clean the sauce from the ridges.

Jaeyun's abs contracted under your mouth, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he fought to stay quiet—the truck's windows were up, but the open desert could carry sounds.

“Shit, love….feels so good.” He whispered hoarsely, his free hand tangling in your hair, guiding you without pushing.

You worked upward, swirling your tongue around, then flattening your tongue broad against his upper abs, licking firmly to savor every inch. The chocolate smeared slightly on your lips, but you didn't care—his skin was hot, tasting of him beneath the sweetness, and you hummed in pleasure, the vibration making him buck his hips.

Your hand slid down, palming his clothed cock through his jeans. It was rock-hard, thick and straining, the outline clear as you rubbed along the length, squeezing the head. He throbbed under your touch, pre-cum likely soaking his boxers, and he bit his lip to stifle a moan, his veiny hand clamping over his mouth for a second.

“Quiet, Yeun.” You teased in a breathy whisper, your own arousal building as you ground your soaked panties against his thigh.

But you were struggling too—the wet sounds of your licking, the slick slide of your palm over his bulge, it all threatened to echo. You licked higher, cleaning the last traces from just below his chest, your breasts pressing fully against him now, nipples draaagging over his skin. He growled low, the hand on your breast kneading harder, pinching your nipple through the fabric until you gasped, your mouth pausing on his abs.

“Can’t get enough of you, angel.” Jaeyun rasped as he watched you, his cock jerking under your stroking hand. You resumed licking, slower now, savoring the way his muscles jumped, the chocolate fully gone but your tongue reluctant to stop. Finally, you sat up, lips shiny, and met his gaze—dark, hungry, tension crackling between you like the desert heat. But instead of pulling away, you shifted forward, positioning your core directly over his abs.

The skirt bunched at your waist as you rocked against him, your panties drenched, clit throbbing as it rubbed over the hard ridges of his stomach.

“Need you so bad Yeun.” You whimpered, hands on his chest for leverage, palming his cock again with one hand, the friction making him hiss. He nodded, abs flexing deliberately under you to increase the pressure, his veiny hands gripping your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh just below your skirt.

“Fucking hell you’re so wet.” His voice came strained, “Use me aaall you want, my angel.”

You started slow, hips rolling in a steady grind, your pussy lips spreading over his skin through the thin barrier of your panties, the chocolate residue making everything slicker. Each forward sliiide dragged your clit along a peak of his abs, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

You bit your lip hard to stay quiet, but soft whimpers escaped, your breasts bouncing with the motion, drawing his eyes like magnets. He was mesmerized, one hand sliding up to push your top higher, exposing them fully—your nipples peaked, begging for attention.

“God, angel, look at you….…” His cock pulsed under your palm as you stroked him faster, unzipping his jeans just enough to rub over the fabric of his boxers, feeling the heat and girth.

The pace quickened, your hips bucking now, riding his abs with desperate thrusts. The ridges provided perfect friction, hitting your clit repeatedly, your arousal soaking through your panties onto his skin, mixing with the faint chocolate stickiness.

“Yeun….feels so good.” You gasped, voice a hushed plea, struggling not to cry out as the pressure built.

“Pussy’s drippin all over me.” He thrust up subtly, abs clenching to grind back against you, his own breaths labored, grunts muffled behind clenched teeth, “My angel’s going to make herself cum?”

Sweat beaded on his torso, making the slide even smoother, and you leaned forward, breasts dangling over his face. He captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, tongue lashing the sensitive bud while his hand palmed the other, rolling it between his fingers.

The dual sensations overwhelmed you—his mouth on your breast, the relentless rub of his abs against your core. You palmed his cock roughly now, fingers tracing the veins along the shaft through the cloth, squeezing the base as it leaked more pre-cum.

The truck filled with the hushed symphony of your bodies—wet grinds, stifled moans, the creak of the seat under his shifting weight. Your thighs trembled, skirt flipped up completely, exposing everything as you rode him faster, clit swollen and pulsing.

“Yeun—hah—gonna cum.” You whispered urgently, nails digging into his shoulders. He released your nipple with a pop, eyes locked on your bouncing breasts, then down to where your pussy dragged over his abs.

“Go on love. Soak me like a good girl.” His words pushed you over, and you shattered, pussy clenching on nothing as waves of pleasure crashed through you, juices flooding out to drench his stomach, your body shaking with the intensity.

You collapsed forward, panting against his neck, still palming his cock in lazy strokes as aftershocks rippled. He held you close, one veiny hand stroking your back, the other cupping your ass under the skirt.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed, voice rough with his own unspent need, but content in the intimacy, “Where the actual hell did you learn that sweetheart?”

“Told you I read a lot.” You kissed his jaw, “Wanna head home?”

“We’ll be doing way more than that, love.”

__________________

Sim Jaeyun was a fucking flirt.

Of course, you had expected it fully when he came into town looking like that. But ever since your three nights of constant lovemaking, you were sure he was only yours. But of course this bastard chatted up the women in town, his easy charm drawing them in like moths.

So what else was a girl supposed to do other than retaliate?

Your bakery buzzed with the usual morning rush, the scent of fresh pastries mingling with the dry desert air filtering through the open door.

You laughed a little too brightly at the compliments from a couple of regular customers who lingered at the counter, their eyes appreciative as they ordered their usuals. It was harmless flirting but you revelled in knowing it stung him; you saw the flicker in his expression, his veiny hands gripping his coffee tightly as he watched from the doorway.

You couldn't wait to get back home.

“Nice show you were putting on, angel.” Jaeyun scooped you up with effortless strength, carrying you straight to the bedroom, the repaired bed waiting like an invitation.

“You started it, Yeun.” His dark eyes bored into yours, as you bit your lip, heat flooding your cheeks—and lower—as you met his gaze, “Can’t blame a girl for trying can you?”

“Oh trust me I can.” He laid you back, his abs brushing your stomach through his shirt, “Let me show you how, yeah?” You felt the familiar ache of desire twist within you, his breath hot as he rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out a small black box, flipping it open to reveal a….peculiar shaped silicone ring. “You wanna know what this is, angel?” You nodded your head a meek no and he chuckled.

“Friend of mine back in the city gave it to me.” He slowly pulled away from you, opening the drawer next to the bed and pulling out your silk scarf, why ever did you tell him where you kept those things, “And we’re going to play a game with it.”

His thick cock strained against his pants as he blindfolded you with the soft scarf. The world went dark, heightening every sensation—the rustle of clothes, the dip of the mattress as he stripped you both bare.

You settled back, heart pounding, the cool sheets contrasting the air on your naked skin. Jaeyun's hands traced your body reverently, starting at your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebbled hard.

“So beautiful, angel.” His voice was thick with arousal, “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers and my cock, and you’re going to guess which is which.” His tone was playful yet commanding, making your pussy clench in anticipation, “Ready to play, love?”

You meekly nodded again as he settled between your legs, the bed creaking under his weight. He slipped the ring onto his index finger, the vibrator hummed to life at a low setting, a deep buzz that vibrated through the air.

You gasped as he pressed the tip of his finger against your entrance, circling your clit teasingly before pushing inside. The vibrations pulsed against your inner walls, intense and unrelenting, stretching you just enough with the girth of his digit. He curled it, rubbing that spot deep within, the buzz amplifying every nerve.

“Which one is it, love?” He asked, voice husky, his free hand palming your breast, pinching the nipple. You arched, blindfold somehow heightening the pleasure.

“F-Finger?” You whimpered, hips bucking instinctively. He chuckled, low and satisfied, thrusting his finger deeper, the ring's vibrations making your toes curl.

“Good girl.” He withdrew slowly, leaving you aching, then positioned himself. His cock, veiny and oh so much larger, nudged your folds, the head parting you before he sank in inch by inch.

The stretch was exquisite, his size splitting you open just like that first time, filling you completely. No vibrations yet, but the raw girth dragged along your walls, hitting every sensitive point, “Which one, sweetheart?”

“Cock—cock oh god Yeun!” You moaned loud, your hands fisting the sheets, “Yeun you’re so big!” The words tumbled out, stroking his ego; you heard his sharp intake of breath, felt him throb inside you.

“Fuck, angel, yeah…..keep—ah—keep talking like that.” He rocked his hips slowly, a gentle fuck that built the tension, his abs flexing against your thighs, “Dirty little angel.”

He pulled out almost fully, then switched—plunging his finger into your soaked pussy. The buzz hit harder this time, higher setting, vibrating wildly as he pumped two fingers now, scissoring them to open you wider.

“Guess.” He demanded, leaning down to suck a mark on your neck, his cock sliding along your thigh. The dual penetration of his fingers plus the relentless thrum had you writhing, clit pulsing untouched.

“Finger—oh hahhhh….” You gasped. He hummed in approval, twisting his wrist to grind the vibrations against your g-spot, your juices coating his hand.

And then back to his cock—he thrust in deep, bottoming out with a groan, your mind leaving you as you felt every ridge, every vein.

“Feel so full Yeun….filling me up so gooood…” You praised him breathlessly, blindfolded eyes imagining his smug grin, the way his muscles tensed.

He fucked you with measured strokes, slow and deep, pulling whimpers from your throat. The alternation continued, a torturous rhythm: finger with the ring buzzing furiously, curling and thrusting until your walls fluttered; then his cock, bare and powerful, pounding in with raw force that made the bedframe groan.

Each switch blurred the lines, your guesses growing desperate—“Cock! No, finger... oh fuck, Jaeyun!”—as pleasure layered upon itself. He amped the vibrator higher during finger turns, the buzz echoing through your core, while his cock thrusts grew harder, chasing your reactions.

The build was relentless, coiling tighter with every alternation. His finger—buzzing deep deep deep, stretching your pussy with twists that made stars burst behind the blindfold. His cock—plunging thick and unyielding, the head battering your cervix in the best way. '

“Yeun, ‘m gonna cum!” You cried, legs wrapping around him. He growled, switching faster now, the game dissolving into pure sensation.

Finally, on a deep cock thrust, combined with his thumb on your clit, you shattered—squirting hard, fluid gushing around his shaft, soaking the sheets as your pussy clenched in waves of ecstasy.

“Fuck, angel, that's it…..squirt for me, pretty baby.” He praised, riding out your orgasm with shallow pumps before pulling out, breathing ragged.

You collapsed, trembling, the blindfold damp with sweat. He removed it gently, his dark eyes soft with affection amid the lust, kissing your forehead. “So beautiful when you let go, angel.”

You lay there, chest heaving, body still humming from the intensity of your release, the sheets beneath you damp and twisted. Jaeyun's warmth pressed against your side, his arm draped possessively over your waist as he nuzzled into your neck, planting soft kisses along your sweat-slicked skin.

The blindfold was now discarded on the nightstand, and the room felt charged with the afterglow, the air thick with the scent of your combined arousal.

“Yeun?”

“Hmm?”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and sated, locked onto yours, a small smile playing on his lips, “Can I ask you something?” He nodded and you took in a breath, “Can you teach me how to suck you off?”

And that was the day Sim Jaeyun lived his last.

You looked so fucking innocent like this, widened eyes asking him so sweetly such a devilish thing. And it was destroying all his remaining brain cells.

He paused, surprise flickering across his features before it melted into a heated grin, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. “You sure, angel?”

“I want to.” You insisted, propping yourself up on one elbow, your free hand trailing down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, “Wanna make you feel good.”

Jaeyun’s breath hitched at your touch, his cock already stirring to life against your thigh, half-hard from the remnants of your shared pleasure. He nodded, shifting to sit up against the headboard, legs spread wide to make room for you.

“Come here.” He said, voice low and encouraging, patting the space between his thighs. “We’ll go slow.”

You crawled forward on your knees, the mattress dipping under your weight, positioning yourself between his legs. His cock lay heavy against his stomach, thickening as you watched, the shaft veined and flushed, the head still glistening from your earlier release.

A bead of precum formed at the tip, and you felt a fresh wave of curiosity and desire pool in your core. Your hands rested on his thighs, fingers digging into the firm muscle as you leaned in closer, inhaling his musky scent—earthy and intoxicating.

“First, use your hands.” Jaeyun instructed gently, reaching down to guide one of yours to his base. His fingers wrapped around yours, showing you how to grip him loosely, stroking upward in a slow, firm pull that made him groan softly, “Feel how hard I am baby? That's exactly what you do to me, my sweet angel.”

You mimicked the motion on your own, hand sliding along his length, marveling at the velvety smoothness over the rigid heat beneath. Precum smeared under your thumb as you circled the head, and Jaeyun's hips jerked slightly, his hand threading into your hair.

“Good girl.” He praised, voice roughening, “Now your mouth—just lick first.” He instructed softly, his cock bobbing heavy before your face, pre-cum beading at the tip.

You leaned in, tongue darting out to lap at the slit, salty and musky, making him hiss. Your lips parted to suckle the crown, tongue flicking the sensitive underside. He threaded fingers through your hair, not pushing yet, just encouraging.

“Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose. Yeah, just like that.” Inch by inch, you slid down, his thickness stretching your mouth, the veins pulsing against your tongue. His cock fully hardened now, standing proud and thick, curving toward your mouth like an invitation.

“Open up, angel.” He murmured, guiding you with a gentle nudge. Your lips stretched around the bulbous head, the fullness pressing against your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked.

Jaeyun moaned, low and deep, his free hand gripping the sheets. “That's it, angel—god, your mouth’s fucking heaven. Bob your head a little for me, thaat’s it.”

You eased down further, inch by inch, your jaw relaxing as you accommodated his girth. Saliva pooled in your mouth, dribbling down his shaft as you sucked and licked, the wet sounds filling the room alongside his ragged breaths.

Your hand twisted at the base, following the rhythm of your mouth, while your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently as he'd shown you earlier in the heat of the moment.

“Look at me.” Jaeyun rasped, and you glanced up through your lashes, seeing the raw hunger in his eyes, the way his chest rose and fell. It spurred you on, making you take him deeper, until the head bumped the back of your throat. You gagged but didn't pull back, breathing through your nose, tears pricking your eyes from the effort.

“Easy, sweetheart.” He soothed, thumb stroking your cheek. “God, you’re a—ah ahh—a fuckin natural.”

The praise sent a thrill through you, your pussy clenching emptily as you worked him, alternating between deep sucks and teasing licks along the frenulum. His hips began to rock subtly, fucking your mouth in shallow thrusts, but he kept control, letting you set the pace. Drool escaped the corners of your lips, slicking your chin and his balls, the messiness only heightening the intimacy.

“Can I... faster?” You pulled off briefly to ask, voice muffled and breathless, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock.

“Fuck yes.” He said, guiding your head back down, “Gonna make me cum down your throat, love.”

You redoubled your efforts, bobbing quicker, hand flying along the slick length you couldn't reach. He pushed your head down, guiding you faster, cock sliding deeper into your throat with each thrust. You relaxed, letting him use your mouth, the wet glucks filling the room as he fucked your face. Tears pricked your eyes from the depth, but the thrill of pleasuring him—seeing his abs clench, hearing his moans—kept you going.

You felt him swell, the telltale pulse against your tongue, and hollowed deeper, urging him on with a hum that vibrated through him.

“Take it, baby—all of me.” He grunted, pace quickening. His veiny hand held you steady, pushing until your nose brushed his pelvis, then pulling back just enough for air before plunging again. You sucked harder, tongue working the underside, hand cupping his sack to massage.

You chose to stay, sealing your lips tight as he thrust once, twice, then erupted. Hot spurts of cum flooded your mouth, thick and bitter-salty, coating your tongue as you swallowed convulsively, some dribbling past your lips despite your efforts.

Jaeyun's hand held you there gently through it, body shuddering, a guttural moan tearing from his throat, as he forced you to gulp it all down. Not that you were complaining though.

When he softened, you released him with a pop, licking your lips clean, a shy but satisfied smile breaking across your face as you looked up. Cum glistened on your chin, and he reached down to wipe it away with his thumb, pushing it back into your mouth for you to suck.

“Did I do good, Yeun?” You murmured. He kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue.

“Perfect.” He breathed, pulling you up into his lap for another kiss. You smiled against his lips as he pulled you into his warm arms, feeling sleep take over you.

Love is lust, as it always had been.

But maybe your Yeun could make both of them feel as sweet as cream.

fin.

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