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juniefruit · 12 days

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☆ Blow The Whistle ☆

☆ Lifeguard! Felix x fem! reader (18+)

☆ Summary: The summer heat has you desperate to cool off in an unconventional way...

☆ Warnings: smut, one night day stand, semi public sex, not proofread, MDNI

☆ Word count: 2.3 k

Australian summers are brutal. That’s why you and your closest friends have found refuge at the water park for the day. There’s a slight breeze once in a while which makes the heat bearable without being submerged in water constantly. You’ve set up camp on a few beach chairs with tote bags filled with snacks, towels, and ample amounts of sunscreen. You look like the textbook example of relaxation; oversize cat-eye sunglasses, a cute cover-up draped over your shoulders and laying back on the chair.

What broke your relaxation was the shrill shriek of a whistle from a lifeguard. You move your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to peer at the cause of the loud interruption. He blows into the whistle again. Why can’t some kids just follow the rules?

To your surprise, at the other side of the pool, was one of the cutest lifeguards you’ve had the pleasure of seeing. His eyes were obstructed by reflective sunglasses, but they were framed by freckles that blessed his tanned honey skin. Bleach-blonde, sun-kissed hair that was slightly wavy and fluffed. You got the feeling that if he wasn’t forced to wear a shirt for this job, he’d be topless; the tank top he wore had the sides cut so wide that you could start to see his broad pecs and defined abs. Snug board shorts showcased his toned thighs that were splayed out against the white wooden chair. You didn’t even realize you were staring, eyes glazed over, until he turned towards you and sent a shy wave. You snapped out of it and waved back, which seemed to satisfy him since he smirked and went back to scanning the pool for troublemakers on top of his chair.

A splash of water and a mess of wet hair emerged right at the edge of the pool.

“Y/n, will you join your besties in the pool already?” One of your friends asked, arms folded against the edge of the pool. “There’s this group of cute guys we’re talking to-” She exclaims, pointing behind her.

“They’re all yours, because I,” You gesture to the lifeguard. “Have my sights on him. Also, I need to go refill my water bottle. So don’t mind if I do-” You stand up from your seat.

“Right… water refill… let me know how it goes!” She splashes water at you teasingly before wading back to her group. Was it a coincidence that you had to pass the lifeguard to get to the water fountain? Most likely. Now’s your chance, you thought. As you approached him, he noticed you and turned his head. He tried hiding his grin but failed. “Hey,” you greeted him, leaning an arm against the large wooden chair, painted white. He rested his forearms atop the armrests and had his legs crossed.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth.

He’s only said one word and you’re already addicted. “Great day out, isn’t it?” He asks, and you realise you could listen to him forever.

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose.” He perked up at your response.

“Oh? And why do you only suppose?” He inquires.

“Well, in a perfect world, all these kids would follow the rules so you can retire blowing into that annoying whistle.” He laughs at your confession. “In a perfect world, I’d be in the break room eating lunch. Yet here we are.” His accent was like the final straw as his baritone voice left his plump lips. “I’m Felix.” He reaches out a hand.

“I’m y/n.” You shake his hand. He’s gentle yet firm, and slides his hand back to the armrest as if he didn’t want to let go. He clears his voice.

“I- um, I like your outfit. It suits you well, y/n”. He admits bashfully. You blush at his confession. Was he trying to flirt?

“Ah, thanks Felix, if you think so.” You reply.

“I do think so.” He says, in a spur of confidence. You squirm internally. You couldn’t handle much more of this- tension. It’s not every day that he stumbles upon someone like you- someone who he could barely keep his composure around. He was suddenly aware of every fiber in his body, wondering if his hair looked good or if there was sunscreen still smeared on his face.

“Well,” you sigh. “I should probably go. This bottle won’t refill itself.” You shake the empty water bottle in your hand.

“Y/n, wait!” He exclaims, startling you a bit. His cheeks were tinted pink with a blush.

“Um, my break should be in… five minutes. The break room has an ice dispenser, I can let you in? So you don’t have to use the lukewarm fountain water.” He checks the watch on his wrist and he sounds a little nervous at his proposal.

“Oh- um, sure! I’ll wait by my chair, then.” Taken aback, you tried not to sound too excited at the thought of spending time with Felix, alone. Feeling giddy, you shuffle back to your beach chair, which now feels miles away as you feel his eyes trailing after you. Safe to say you counted down every second until Felix’s replacement swapped him out. He does little to stop the grin creeping up on his face as he approaches you, taking his time.

“Shall we?” He proposes, the timbre of his voice delectable. You nod with a smirk.You try your best to gracefully stand from your position, but unfortunately, beach chairs were not designed with that in mind. There was tension in the air between you as he led you through the pathways inbetween pools and slides. The death grip on your water bottle was turning into a cramp in your hand, but there wasn’t much available to soothe your nerves. The only sound was the squeak of flip flops as you walked adjacent to eachother. Felix spoke up suddenly. “It’s right up here.” he gestures. You hum in reply. When you approach the ‘Employees Only’ door, Felix punches in the passcode while you wait behind him. His tank top was slightly billowing against his toned back in the breeze. The door unlocked and Felix grabbed the handle, subsequently holding it open for you.

“Oh! Thanks,” You exclaimed before He graced you with a small smile and a nod. A rush of cool air smacks you in the face as the heavy door closes behind both of you. You turn to see Felix standing behind you, leaning against the closed door, effortlessly charming. His hazelnut eyes were lidded with a glint of desire.

“We have the room all to ourselves, you know.” He says. Your breath hitches at what he seems to be suggesting. So, you step closer. You can see his chest moving with every breath he takes.. You brought your right hand up to grasp at the whistle and cord hanging around his neck.The damned whistle was calling out for you to just tug it so his puffy lips can finally meet yours. His eyes were inviting you closer as they pierced your own. When you were so close you could feel his shallow breath on your lips, he closed the gap. Subsequently, you tugged slightly at the cord which earned you a soft groan. His lips weresoft but not too moist, like he had just applied chapstick. He dragged his body closer to you and placed the palms of his hands gingerly at your hips, partially covered by your swimsuit. He pulls his face away, just barely in order to speak.

“Tell me you want this- or I'll let go and we can forget it happened.” His voice is airy and his stare hasn’t left yours ever since he pulled away. It was electrifying. Granted, you don’t get this opportunity often- or at all. Maybe that was why you found it so thrilling.

“I want this- want you.” Both of your hands moved to the junction between his neck and collarbones. Your eyes communicated a silent plea; one that Felix would never forgive himself for if he ignored. With a smirk, he dove back in. His freckled cheeks grazed your cheekbones with how deep he kissed you. His blonde hair fell forward as he tilted his head. At the same time, his thumbs were making little circles against your hips, gliding over your swimsuit before digging in to hook them underneath and into the supple flesh. You whined against his lips, and counteracted by sliding your hands down his exposed sides. You could feel every ripple of muscle, and his stomach tensed when you pased right at his lower waist. As an excuse to pull yourself even closer, you reached behind Felix and locked the door.

“Come here,” He growled against your lips, and led you to the wide armchair across the small room, with a little table adjacent to it where you set down your water bottle with haste. You grinded against eachother until the fabric felt unbearable. His hands move to your lower back to spin you around, so he can sit against the chair and pull you into his lap, facing eachother. You sat atop his toned thighs, the fabric of the chair adding much needed comfort. He pulled your face back onto his as your tongues intertwined. As he was licking into your mouth with vigor, your hands roamed eachother’s tense bodies. You felt like you were floating when he pulled your cover up off of your shoulders as it fell onto his feet.

“My turn,” You spoke, slowly and sdeuctively. Your hands grabbed at the hem of his tank top to pull it over his head, his whistle hitting his chest. The wide planes of his chest and shoulders glistened in the fluorescent light. You ran your hands down his chest as he loosed a sigh onto your lips. Meanwhile, his hands inched towards the apex of your thighs, still covered by your swimsuit, but no doubt messy with your arousal.

“Hmm, I did this to you, yeah?” The pads of his right hand caress your folds through the fabric. A wanton moan escapes you. You smirk when you look down to see the tent in his shorts, desperately trying to press against you.

“I can say the same for you,” You counter. The palm of your hand ghosts over his hardness before pressing down slowly. He whines impatiently.

“I can unzip these, yeah?” You ask.

“Anything you want, just hurry up.” He squirms under you. You huff at his impatience, and undo his shorts with one hand, shoving his underwear down too. His length is weeping at the tip, swollen and dusty pink. Shuffling as close as you can, Felix pulls the lowest part of your swimsuit to the side with nimble fingers. You shiver as they brush against your folds in the heat of the moment. Grabbing him gently at the base, you align him with your hole, aching with need to quench that empty feeling. He slides against you with ease, the tip catching against your entrance before you sink lower, relieving the muscles in your thighs. His breathing is deep and controlled; His warm brown eyes were full of adoration and eagerness, focused on your lower half. His hands were glued to your hips, periodically squeezing and kneading the flesh.

“So pretty, hah…” He sighs, catching his breath as you reach the hilt. You tilt your head forward to press featherlight kisses to his freckled cheeks before landing on his bottom lip, catching it between your teeth to suck on. His cock throbs with pleasure, overwhelmed yet aching for more. Felix’s hips buck up from their own accord, catching you by surprise, sparks of electricity coursing up your body. His hands helped to guide you up and down his length, coated in slick.

The loud hum of the A/C muffles the mixtures of sounds you’re producing. Every upwards thrust releases a breathy moan as you shiver with pleasure. Your nails scratch against Felix’s shoulders which causes a grunt to topple from his lips, reddened from fervent licks and kisses. Every time your hips hit against his, Felix’s grunts and groans increase in pitch until he’s whining and whimpering with that saccharine low timbre. His sounds add to the build up of your release, as the upwards movements of his thrusts falter as pleasure takes over.

“You’re close, yeah? Please tell me you’re close…” He whines. You gasp as the feeling of your climax climbs higher and higher, you can almost taste it. The head of his cock nudges that sensitive spot against your plush inside, consequently making you clench around him.

“Felix-!” You gasp. “So close, oh my god, Felix! Fuck-”. Your body squirms with delight as Felix wraps his forearms around your lower back, your hands splayed out against his shoulder blades.

“Cumm-ing Y/n-! shit- I’m cumming-” His voice is strained as the final thread snaps. You feel like you’re floating as waves and waves of pleasure fall through you, eyes closed as your chin rests against the firm muscle between Felix’s neck and shoulder. The air is filled with twin gasps for air as you both come back to reality. The palms of his hands make soothing circles against your sides as you slide out with a deep breath, wincing.

“Was that okay?” He asks, switching back to his shy demeanor. You sigh with content.

“That was… definitely more than okay.” That seems to soothe his nerves.

“I definitely need water now…” You say. He spins you around so he’s leaned up against your back.

“Mmh, Sure thing.” He grumbles. He leaves a chaste kiss against the nape of your neck, in hopes that you’ll return his feelings.

“Come to the park again tomorrow, yeah?” You nod in response.

A dense thud against the door has you both jumping out of your skin and scrambling to your feet.

“Oi Felix! You good bro?”

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juniefruit · 22 days

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STAHP IM BLUSHING

☆ My Dear ☆

☆ Tags: Han Jisung x fem reader, friends to lovers

☆ Summary: In which you’re both head over heels for eachother. Who wouldv’e known that such a simple word has Jisung wrapped around your finger…

☆ Warnings: Eventual smut, petnames, this shit nasty, MDNI!!!!!

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

It’s just a simple habit you picked up; how and where exactly… you can’t pinpoint. Calling people ‘dear’ as a mannerism, even for mundane things here and there. It’s almost subconsious: “thank you, dear.” or “would you pass me that cup, dear?” Just a passive way to be polite, right? Jisung knows you can’t help it. For a few years now, Jisung has been your ride or die. He’s always just a text or phone call away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually a genie with how fast he always shows up at your side. You laugh together, you vent and rant together, nothing could sever your bond. Some might think you're too close to eachother to be just friends. You wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Jisung was everything you needed in a best friend. Goofy yet responsible; respectful yet lighthearted. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine a life with him that’s past the boundaries of friendship. It doesn’t help that he’s the most attractive man you’ve had the pleasure of getting to know in your life. Because of your closeness, it’s also hard for Jisung. He would love nothing more than to hug you just because, cuddle up on the couch, and press passionate kisses to your pretty lips. And yet, the feelings go unspoken for fear of losing eachother.

There is one thing that Jisung wouldn’t tell anyone, not even if he was hooked up to a lie detector. Every time you call him dear, his mind spins. His heart races and he needs to manually control his breathing. Such a simple pet name, and yet his mind wanders. Would you call him that, when your thighs are splayed over his, and your fingers thread through his hair? When your breaths are laboured, and you can barely think straight? He would obey your every command. He would beg and plead under you, hands gripping the flesh of your hips in desperation. He would do anything to hear you call him that one more time. And another. And another, until you’re both climaxing with arms wrapped around eachother and necks covered in marks. That’s what he thinks about when he’s alone in his room, zoned out at his desk. Or in his bed. Or on the way to your apartment, which just so happens to be the reality. Great timing.

With spring just around the corner, you could practically feel that gloomy winter feeling melting like snow out of your body. The sun rays of the late afternoon dance through the windows of your living room and land on the hardwood floor. The city can be heard disatntly below. You sit comfortably on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, desperately trying to regain focus on your book. Your mind betrays you, once again pining over Jisung. Oh, how it would feel to finally call him yours. To show him every part of you. To lose yourself in complete adoration for him. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, because you know he would do the same for you. Like that one time he was having trouble recording a verse just right. He stormed into your apartment, silently seething. No questions asked, you sat him down on the couch before preparing tea. When you returned, you stretched out your arms to invite him in. And he did just that. He couldn’t stay annoyed for long when he had the most beautiful girl comforting him. With a long sigh, he ranted. And you listened. You gave him your full attention. For that, he is forever grateful. A few days later, your boss decided to be extra stingy. You knew the deadline was quickly approaching, you knew there was still a lot to do. And yet he still felt the need to shove it in your face. The entire trip to Jisung’s apartment, stressed tears were bordering on your waterline. The knocks on the door with surprising force were Jisung’s first suspicion that something was up. When he opened it, his heart shattered. Who could have possibly done this to his pretty girl? He ushered you in with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Opting for the floor, you sat, pulling your knees in tight.

“Please tell me, pretty girl, what happened?” He sat on his knees in front of you, leaning in. Silence from your end. The palm of his hand rubbed against the curve of your shoulder underneath your work clothes.

“Talk to me, Dear. So I can make it better. Why don’t you take a deep breath, hm?” Maybe your mannerisms were rubbing off on him. That didn’t mean they affected him any less. Still curled up with your head down, you talked. Like he asked. Because you couldn’t deny him for long. The rest is history.

The steady knocks at your door pull you out of your thoughts as you slam the book shut and place it on the coffee table. Your feet pad across the floor to unlock the door. You know it’s Jisung. He had texted you earlier, saying he’s on his way. For no specific reason other than he knew you were both at home anyway, enjoying the day off. When you open the door, You’re dazed every time. You can never get used to the sight that beholds you. Jisung, in a hoodie and jean jacket, black jeans hugging his toned thighs. His dark hair was in its natural curly state, a few stray strands falling forward above his eyes. You would want nothing more than to reach out a hand and sweep it to the side. That would make things weird, certainly. His small silver hoop earrings dangle as he looks up.

“Hey,” He says, with a content sigh and a subtle grin.

“Hi, Sungie! Come in-” You say, side stepping to give him room to enter. He’s unlacing his shoes while you walk to the kitchen.

“Want something to drink? I can make some tea?”

“Whatever you want, y/n. You make it, I'll drink it.” He says as he’s hanging up his jacket. You chuckle.

“Alright, Dear.”

The water in the kettle makes a bubbling sound off to the side. You’re occupied with preparing the tea bags when you sense Jisung’s presence behind you. It takes everything in you not to yelp in surprise when you feel a hand slide against your waist. Jisung reaches past you and grabs a glass from the cabinet. His presence is warm and comforting. If you leaned back just a bit, you’d be pressed right up against him. You freeze, but he continues his gentle gestures. The hand that isn’t still settled against the lower part of your waist sets the glass down. He grazes his hand over yours, takes the tea bag between his lithe fingers, and places it in the cup. When he speaks, it’s sensually close to your ear.

“You’re always so good to me… you make me tea, you comfort me when I’ve had a bad day, you even got me an entire cheesecake for my birthday. How could I ever repay you?” His voice is low and soothing.

“Being my best friend is more than enough, Dear.” You say with a considerate tone. You turn your head to face him, which was a grave mistake on your part. Now you’re nose to nose, wide-eyed and staring into his round, kind eyes. It takes a few seconds for him to muster up the courage before speaking.

“What if I didn’t want to be best friends anymore?” His voice was now serious.

“Uh, what?” This can’t be. Did you do something wrong? Before your brain short circuits, Jisung continues.

“I- Um, shit. I meant, what if you were my girlfriend instead?” That sounded better in his head, clearly. “I just- I think about you like, every day. When I’m at the studio with the guys. Or when I’m literally doing nothing. I don’t know what to do with myself-” You cut him off, not by saying anything, but by leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Enough with the rambling.

“Jisung, dear, what if I didn’t want to be your best friend anymore either?” And with that, He grins so wide his eyes crinkle. He takes his arm off the counter to grab the other side of your waist, turning you completely towards him; eyes still locked.

“Then you better tell me if you don’t want this, too.” He’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours before you can think of something to even say. Now realizing how useless your hands feel, you bring them up to rest on his shoulders. With newfound courage, you kiss back. You can practically feel the energy radiating from where he subtly moves his plush lips against yours. Not totally sure what to do, you mimic his own movement, which he seems contempt with because he releases a low groan and gently exhales through his nose. The scent of his cherry chapstick invades your nose. It’s certainly doing its job; his lips are softer than the finest silk. Truly, you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and where he’s touching you.

The alarm of the kettle snaps you back into the space of your apartment. You hum into his mouth when he doesn’t immediately let go. Jisung lets out a low whine, and tightens his arms around you. The feeling is dangerous. Reluctantly, you pull away from his lips with a loud smack.

“Sungie Dear, the water-”

“I finally get to kiss you, and you’re giving the kettle priority over me?” He says, teasingly. He pouts, puffing his cheeks out.

“Let me at least turn it off-” You wiggle and squirm in his hold. When he feels you create that friction, he finally realizes that he should have tried to keep his composure a little more. Especially since you’ve been calling him by that saccharine nickname ever since he stepped through the door. Luckily, the material of his jeans was thick enough that he felt confident you didn’t notice anything. As if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each, he pulled them away; not without dragging them across your hips first. He huffs out a ‘fine’ before following you to the other side of the kitchen. Like an obedient puppy, he tracks behind as you carry the kettle to the two cups on the counter. You pour them both. Not even a second goes by after you set the kettle down and Jisung has his arms wrapped around your middle and head resting on your shoulder from behind. You chuckle.

“There. Happy now?” You inquire.

“Very.” One of his arms travels up your upper body. He takes his time, applying pressure to every dip and curve of your side. When he reaches your neck, he brushes your hair behind your ear and to the back. Goosebumps make their way up your arms. Not because it’s cold. On the contrary, you’re burning up. Surely your cheeks are bright red and your eyes can’t focus on anything in front of you. When Jisung leans his head in to whisper in your ear, he also slightly pushes his middle into yours, craving more physical touch.

“Tell me, pretty girl, is this okay? I’ve been thinking about you for so long, I would hate to rush things.”

“It’s okay. I promise.” You can barely get the words out when you feel his body against yours, even with clothes. If you’re feeling this stimulated now, How will you even be able to breathe when you go farther than this? The verdict is, you’ll find out when you get there.

“What, am I making you nervous?” He teases. You can feel his breath on your neck when he talks.

“I mean- yeah, but not in- not in a bad way. I- please, just do something.” You whine softly at the end.

“Say the magic word, pretty girl.” His lips are so close tto the nape of your neck now that you can feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Please, Dear.” Never in your life had you felt him so eager like this. His plush lips molded against the nape of your neck under your ear. His arms shifted and tightened against your midriff when he heard you breath out a heavy sigh. His tongue darted out to run over his lips and, in the process, ran over the soft skin of your neck. At that, you let out the tiniest whine. Jisung heard it and ran with it. Licking and sucking against your neck with fervor as your hands glided over his own. With one last languid suck into the sensitive new mark, he flipped you around and gently pushed you further into the counter. You looked utterly divine; out of breath and waiting for the next move. Jisung passionately gave you one last kiss. His lips were wet from his earlier escapade, and his tongue darted out for a kitten lick against your own lips. He swears he’s never felt or tasted anything better. Your head is spinning when you gently part your lips to deepen the kiss. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you feel his core slowly move against your own. It was experimental. You do the same motion back. Jisung gasps against your mouth.

“Um, shit, I- I’m sorry, I definitely took this too far. Was that okay, baby?” He’s trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. You stare into his worried eyes.

“More than okay. Now, it seems like I’m the one waiting.” You exclaim with a push of your hips against his. His face scrunches from the stimulation.

“Come to the couch with me.” He pulls you off of the kitchen counter and guides you through the living room with arms still wrapped around you. You take your own hands and press the pads of your fingers into the back of his neck where his hair curls. You gently tug, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan. You fall back onto the couch. Jisung leans over you, silver earrings twinkling in the golden rays from the last sunlight of the day. Oh yeah, it’s golden hour. As Jisung places his arms on either side of your shoulders, the ethereal orange light makes him look like a fallen angel. He can say the same for you. Your hair is a bit tussled, and you’re looking up at him with doe eyes that he’s never even had the power to imagine. When he comes closer, he sensually slots his hips against yours and grinds. One of his legs rests on the couch for stability as you lay under him. Your fingers are still tangled in his hair when he runs his palms down your arms and to your middle. His hands slide under your sweatshirt to caress the soft skin there. You let out a wanton moan at the contact. His hips do not relent. Your hands slide down from his hair, scratching along his clothed back, and hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. He gasps and whines.

“It’s a bit hot in here, don’t you think?” He asks teasingly from his position above you.

“Why dont you take this off then, my Dear?” You pull on the hem of his hoodie.

“Yeah, of course Baby. Anything.” His words are breathy and he can barely think straight. The way the word shapes your lips and leaves your mouth in the softest, most sensual tone has his braincells running laps. He mimics your movements and runs his own hands down to the belt of your jeans before raising them and throwing his hoodie over his head and somewhere off to the side. His wide shoulders accent the planes of his chest, perfectly toned. His eyes look down at your chest.

“Can I take this off, Baby?” He asks, gathering the material of your sweatshirt in one hand. His hips are still connected to yours but halt their movements. You can feel him through his jeans, that’s how high strung he is. You nod your head with a hum as he grapples with the material. Your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans. Your eyes are heavy with desire.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my Dear?”

He moans and his eyes roll back. “Yes… hah…”

You unbutton his jeans to feel his member through his boxers. Jisung’s tongue is licking into yours until he begins to leave open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, and laving over your collar bone.

“So gorgeous Baby…mmmmmh” He groans into your skin. You crane your neck to give him space, while leaving kisses on his own. The silver earring dangles against your nose. You shimmy your own pants off, finally becoming too unbearable. You both moan at the new level of closeness and the pressure of your nether regions against one another. Jisung’s moans grow higher in pitch and frequency the longer your hand rubs over him.

“Ah, ah Baby, stop before I cum like this…” his eyebrows knit together. You let out a hum.

“Let’s take these off then, my Dear.” You shimmy your hands under his boxers in order to pull them down with his jeans at the same time. Once they’re down at his ankles, he pulls them off the rest of the way. His swollen cock stands and pearls of glistening precum gather at the tip. He jolts when you swipe a finger over the head to gather it, before impatiently tugging your jeans and underwear down in one go. They plop down onto the floor. Your hearts beat rapidly in tandem with anticipation. Jisung tears his eyes away from your chest to look you in the eyes.

“You’re sure this is okay, yeah?” He exhales.

“Yeah. Now come here.” He keens at the command. Your knees raise up to lock in around his waist, his sensitive cock between you two. His hands grip the sides of your waist for stability, and his thumbs rub soothing motions into your heated skin. He adjusts his hips so his tip drags over your clit before finding your entrance between your folds. He would have prepped you with his nimble fingers had it not been for your joined impatience. So, to make up for it, his tongue drags down and over your right nipple, licking stripes up and down. Your back arches at the stimulation. Jisung slowly pushes his cock in, until his head pushes past the throbbing ring of muscle only to be met with your velvet walls enveloping every inch. His thighs quiver, and his hands make grabby motions against your waist.

“Ah, hahh, so good Baby, all nice and so wet…” You mewl and whine. Your brain is going into overdrive with the way jisung’s chest moves as he takes deep breaths in. The way his dark hair falls across his face and just barely covering his eyes. When he gives an experimental grind with his length inside, you both let out breathy groans. Your arms circlearound to grasp at his shoulder blades, and your nails subtly scratch. He shudders and moves his hips deeper. Every thrust is accentuated with a huff hrom his plump, kiss-swollen lips. Your scratches on his back make him pick up the speed of his thrusts, until he gets an idea. He leans even closer and slides his arms around your back.

“I have an idea… hmmmh, flip over for me, Baby.” You both rotate until you’re now sitting on top of him. Your thighs are pressed on top of his and honestly, the sight is heavenly. Jisung won’t admit how long he’s wanted to see you like this. He knows he won’t last long like this, not when he’s already so stimulated. Inbetween bounces, you’re mumbling praises that make Jisung ascend. Little whispers of “so good, my Dear” and “right- right there, Dear…” It gets harder and harder for him to control the speed of his thrusts when he’s so close now that he can taste it. Every time he pushes back in, your walls tighten around him. There’s a little puddle of your combined slick at the base of his cock aiding in the rush to cum. Every time you sink down all the way to his base, your clit hits against his lower tummy that is also thrusting up to meet you halfway. His hands are gripping at your upper thigh with a force that might leave fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow, but right now, nothing feels better. One of his hands drags down to press his pointer and middle finger into your clit to rub tight circles. Your release builds and builds in waves until you’re crashing down with him, hunching over and biting into the nape of his neck. Whiny moans and groans fill the living room as Jisung goes taut with his orgasm.

“Ha-ah ohhhh Baby, I’m- ughh cumming-!”

His breathing is heavy and he’s pulling you so close that there is no point on your upper bodies that aren’t in contact. It takes a solid few minutes to control breathing and regain sense of where you are. Your poor couch. Jisung exhales with a smug grin and lidded eyes, looking up at you. His hands are drawing little circles into your waist.

“Sit here Baby, let me go get some things to clean up..” he says before pulling you off to sit limp against the couch. He comes back with a soft damp washcloth, and water.

“Oh… thank you, my Dear.” You say as you take the water with both of your hands.

“You’ll have to cut that out unless you want round two…” Jisung warns with a tilt of his head. Two cups of tea sit long forgotten on the kitchen island, cool enough that they can be used for iced tea instead.

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juniefruit · 1 month

Text

☆ Artist Hyunjin Part Two ☆

☆ AHHHH skz anniversary!!! wishing the boys the best!

☆ Originally written as bestie/roommate, but it's up to your interpretation!

☆ Warnings: None

☆ Word Count: 1,000

Hyunjin is an artist. In every sense. He can see the beauty in all things, big or small. He can observe something that might seem mundane, but he always finds a way to reveal its true beauty.

There’s one shelf in his room dedicated to all of his old sketchbooks. Each and every page is filled to the brim with sketches, sticky notes, and pencil smudges. His room has fairy lights adorning the ceiling and dried flowers preserved and on display. An easel sits in the corner. It’s cozy and warm. His desk, oh my. At least a few miscellaneous cups filled with pencils of all shades and colors, markers, and paintbrushes are always in the corner. Really, he tries his best to keep it organized, but when an idea strikes, and he’s frantically trying to get everything on paper, it becomes the least of his worries.

You do sometimes scold him, especially when you find a paint stain on your sweater. You don’t know how it got there, but it’s most definitely Hyunjin’s doing. Sometimes, you’ll be chilling on the couch together when suddenly his eyes light up, he straightens his posture, and speed walks to his bedroom/studio. “Hyunie, what??” “I finally got it! I need to write this down before I forget!” You chuckle, following him to his room.

One of Hyunjin's bigger art pieces is on display in the living room. It’s an abstract piece that looks great against the beige wall. Hyunjin was reluctant to hang it up, but you insisted. “It’s embarrassing, y/nie!” He whined. “What’s embarrassing about it? This is amazing! And I'm hanging it up if you won’t.” You huff.

It’s very rare that Hyunjin asks you to be his real-time model for a painting. The reason is he doesn’t want to trouble you and have you sit, sometimes for hours, while he works. Instead, he loves to secretly keep pictures of you in his ‘inspiration’ folder on his phone. At this point though, he can sketch you in his sleep. Pages upon pages in his sketchbook are filled with your portrait from all angles. You’re his muse. His inspiration. His hand has memorized how to sketch all the curves and angles of your face and body. Sometimes he’ll be buried nose deep in his sketchbook, and the only sound you can hear is the gentle scratch of the pencil against the paper. You’ll ask what he’s drawing, but he would never admit what it actually is. Once in a while he’ll look up at you and smile, as you sit across from him on the couch. You look ethereal in the afternoon sun, he thinks. Maybe one day he’ll gather the courage to gift you a portrait, or show you a sketch. He knows deep down you would love it. But his nerves are like a blockade. Every artist knows how troubling it can be to show your art to the world. It’s like showing a part of yourself, your soul.

Today was friday, an end to a stressful and high-strung week. To destress, you told Hyunjin to put on a casual outfit. You simply said you’re ‘going out’. He decided upon cafe-brown corduroy pants, a sweater vest and a white blouse under it. The top half of his hair was pinned back with a claw clip. You were taking him to the art supply store. It wasn’t that far, just a few subway stops. He didn’t have a clue until you arrived. His eyes lit up when you told him to pick something out. Like a kid in a candy store, he was snaking through the aisles, his hair bouncing when he walked. As Hyunjin was at the back of one of the store aisles, he had a moment to think. He decided that he’d draw you with the materials he bought. And then show you. He could feel the nerves creeping up his spine just at the thought. But he was set. When you checked out, he chose a few sketching materials like a specialized pencil and eraser. The second you stepped out of the store, he hugged you so tight your face turned pink.

He won’t admit he stayed up all night, long after he assured you that he’s actually going to sleep. He’s dialed in, leaning over his desk. A sheet of drawing paper, about the size of a laptop, sits on the wooden paint-stained surace. His eyes squint behind his glasses as he studies each and every stroke of his pencil. Once in a while he even bites the end of the pencil in his right hand as he concentrates. The eyes of your portrait stare up at him with grace and innocence, like a sunny spring day. It was maybe around 5 AM before he finally deemed it good enough and headed to bed. The next day, after you both got back from work/school, he met you in the living room, with his hands behind his back. “I um- I made you something, as a thank you… for the art supplies and, uh- for being in my life.” he extends his hands to show you the portrait of yourself as his face flushes with shyness. “Wow, Hyunie! This- it’s so beautiful! Thank you!” You take the sheet of paper gingerly with both hands. You set it on the coffee table before facing Hyunjin. “Really, you didn’t have to do that. And I’m glad you’re in my life, too. Um-” You look back at the portrait. “How did you make me look so good?” Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat. His hand reaches to rub at the back of his neck with a shy smile. “It’s just you, y/n. I thought that you’d appreciate seeing how beautiful you are in my eyes.” He admits. You hum, totally at a loss for words. “Well, you were right.” You say with sincerity. Looking back up at him, you say, “Speaking of eyes, are those dark circles?”

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