#kpop fanfic
writerpeach · a day ago
『Classroom Copulation』
Oh My Girl Arin x m!reader
word count - 4k
thanks to @praeluxius for helping with editing
Read on AFF
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“Choi Yewon, please stay after class.” 
One by one, students grabbed their belongings and cleared out. With bowed heads, they gave farewells as they exited the room until only one student was left. Once a straight A student at the top of the class, Arin’s grades plummeted faster than a stock market crash, for no discernible reason. 
When she leisurely approached your desk, you could tell Arin was unlike the rest of the students in her class, especially with how she dressed. One look at her and you could see about a dozen broken dress codes—her standard-issued uniform top had its lower-half missing, exposing her bare midriff, while the gray pleated skirt seated on her hips was considerably shorter, several inches above the knee. 
“Miss Choi.” 
Arin took each step as if she had all the time in the world and moved like molasses. “It’s so good to see you. Am I in trouble?” 
With folded hands, you looked up at her with hesitation, but the wide smile and cuteness on her face didn’t help ease your concerns.
“Well…that all depends on you.” 
An innocent, doe-eyed look stayed etched on a pretty face while she leaned over your desk enough for you to catch a glimpse of her poorly covered body. You had no qualms about staring.
“You’re not in trouble, Yewon. But I’d like to have a chat about your grades.” 
“My grades?” Arin asked, with a tilt of her head to the right. “Didn’t I pass last week’s exam?”   
“You did, but just barely. One more question wrong and you would have failed, which would put a burden on your already struggling grades.”
“Well, passing is passing, isn’t it?” Arin nonchalantly asked. 
“Miss Choi, you were once my star student, top of the class, and now your grades have slipped every single week. Aren’t you disappointed?” 
Her eyes looked in the distance, with a blank stare on her features. “Not really. What can I say, professor? Things change. People change.” 
You rubbed your temple, blinking several times before speaking up. “Are you saying my class isn’t a priority? I expected more from you.”
“And what do you expect out of me, professor?” Arin asked. 
“For starters, your panties on my desk.” 
“Of course, professor,” she responded, with a shy smile. She reached under her skirt and tugged down a pair of pink panties that she tossed on your desk. 
“All yours.”
The set of lacy panties looked familiar, a skimpy thong that you had taken off her before, with a noticeable damp spot in the center. 
“Anything else you expect, professor?” 
The expectations that you held were a mile high, but only one thing in particular was your focus. “I expect you to be on your knees for me, Yewon.” 
“It would be my pleasure,” Arin said, while she scurried over to the side of your desk and promptly dropped to her knees. With rich anticipation in her eyes, she fondled your crotch before you could even finish getting out of your chair. 
“Give me that cock, professor,” Arin pleaded, as she unwrapped you like a present, zipper undone before your next breath, with your pants and boxers piled down to your ankles soon after. Her eyes widened at the reveal of your member that sprung out, like it was the first time getting to undress you, but the same movements all became muscle memory by this point. Kissing up your bare thighs, Arin wrapped fingers around your stiff cock, and stroked with a firm grip, each pump sending little spikes of pleasure up your spine.
“Hold on, I need to lock the door, Yewon.” 
“No, you need to stay here while I suck your fucking cock.” 
“Someone could walk in at any moment.” 
“Am I supposed to care?” Arin asked, while she planted a deep, wet kiss on the very tip of your swollen cockhead. She stared up at you with those gorgeous eyes, filled with equal parts lust, greed, and an eager need to pleasure you while she stroked your cock, almost waiting for permission. Like always, Arin never waited, wrapped her soft lips around your throbbing shaft, and took your length down her warm throat. In just a handful of strokes, she swallowed up your entire cock, releasing hungry slurps like there was no tomorrow. 
You nearly collapsed from pleasure and put a hand on the back of Arin’s pretty head while she worked her magic. Frantic bobbing started things off, and while her silky lips swallowed your length whole, her wet, talented tongue moved in tandem to create a perfect pair of pleasure.  
Much better than grading papers after school, you took a mental picture of the sight of Arin on her knees, with her erotic gaze held while she sucked you off in your unlocked classroom. 
You almost wished one of your students, or even a faculty member, would barge in to see her sloppy warm mouth doing what it did best. After all, that pretty mouth slobbering on your cock became one of Arin’s signature traits, and mere seconds after her lips sealed around your shaft, the corners of her greedy mouth filled with spit that stained the top of her uniform. Not that she gave a damn what a mess she made. It wouldn’t be unusual for her to leave your classroom or office without having her makeup ruined, her skirt torn, or her panties ripped. 
Maybe it was worth Arin throwing her grades away if this was what you got in return. Every time you met, she made every private oral session feel familiar, yet always mixed it up a bit, trying a new technique, an experiment to find the best way possible to pleasure you. 
Today, it was a little more tongue, just enough to add that little dash of stimulation, and it worked flawlessly. Even as you were hypnotized by the rhythmic nature of her head bobs, Arin never stopped the soft licks against the underside of your cock, and used the same teasing patterns on your sensitive balls. She never left them out and sucked each with equal attention. In fact, Arin gave more attention to your tender sack than spent on studies, but much preferred to swallow your length and massage your balls, than open a dusty old book.
Perhaps you’d alter your curriculum just for her. There was no need for tests when she gave head this good, because a weekly oral exam would fit Arin’s skill set much better, and she’d pass with flying colors. 
“Goddamn, Yewon. You give the best head. You really do. Such a good girl.” 
Stopping like a record scratch, Arin looked up without even wiping the drool from her chin. “No, professor. I’m not.” 
She wasn’t offended, but the mere idea of her being good was laughable. Being on her knees sucking you off before the school day was even over was a prime example of why Arin wasn’t a prime student. Your dick became an addiction to her, one that you enabled on the regular as she kept it down her throat, her hand playing with your balls. Any respite she gave was just to kiss your shaft, lick your length, or compliment how much she loved sucking it. 
For all intents and purposes, you’d consider this an extracurricular activity, and would make sure Arin stayed after hours every day. If anything, you’d end class early just to get extra time with that warm fucking mouth drooling on your shaft. 
But the way she looked at you with a mouth full of cock, those gorgeous eyes that stared in adoration, there was a temptation to grab her head and fuck her face until her makeup was a mess. That temptation clashed with a similar one to tear clothes off from her tight fucking body, one you planned to absolutely feast on. 
So, against your better judgment, you pulled her up to her feet, then lifted her petite body onto your desk, tossing whatever useless paperwork aside so you could place her flat on her back.
“Yewon, I need to fucking devour you,” you said, and Arin giggled in response as you took a seat back in your office chair. With her body ripe for the taking, you lowered your head and kissed her sexy midriff right above her belly button, then licked every inch of pristine skin you could find. Her belly made such a perfect target for your lips, so you marked it with an assortment of kisses and long playful licks that drew a gasp from her lips. 
That would do for now. There would be a time and place to lick her from head to toe. Craving Arin like an expensive cut of meat, you flipped up her short little skirt, then parted her legs like you had dozens of times before, granting access to one of your favorite parts of her body—her luscious, creamy thick thighs. 
You didn’t go into full teasing mode here; a few licks on each of her inner thighs here, a few bites there, because you wanted to get straight down to business, and pulled her a few inches closer, while you licked your lips at what was yours to claim—Arin’s delicious, sweet dripping pussy. 
“You know this outfit isn’t school regulation, Yewon.” 
“Oh? You mean I’m not allowed to dress like a slut for you, professor?” she asked, with a playful smile. After a few teasing licks against Arin’s wet slit, you slid your tongue inside her folds, exploring her like a roadmap. 
“I didn’t say that, but it’s getting harder for me to make excuses to satisfy the other faculty members.” 
“Ah fuck! Maybe I should dress skimpier then. Or maybe I should stop wearing panties, and wear even shorter skirts.” 
You wouldn’t give a damn if Arin showed up to your classes fully naked, but sadly, the other students and staff members might have an issue with that. 
Even with your tongue now inside her, Arin couldn’t help but taunt you, but you already held the advantage, and pressed it while teasing her swollen little clit with soft licks. She couldn’t help but squirm at your touch, escalating her moans while your tongue traced her pink folds.
"It seems like you're no longer interested in my class,” you said, as you went for the killing blow and latched your lips on her clit, slurping harshly away at the sensitive little bud. For several moments, the only response from Arin was a series of elongated moans, as her warm milky thighs squeezed around your head—the perfect place for you to be. 
"Not particularly, but it's mostly not your fault.” Her answer was blunt, but you were grateful for her honesty, even while she was writhing on your desk, helplessly at your mercy. 
“There's only so much I can learn about dead presidents before I'm bored out of my mind. The only thing these days I have an interest in is being the professor’s pretty little fuckdoll.”
If only you could grade her on that, she would be back to being the top student in the class. 
But you were more than content to have her sprawled on your desk, your tongue cleaning her messy folds, the taste of her sweet nectar more satisfying than anything put in your mouth. Her needy clit didn’t stay untouched for long, and you took careful swipes against the hardened nub before you returned to the steady, relentless slurps. 
“Professor, oh my god! You’re driving me so crazy—oh my god, you’re so damn good at eating my pussy.” 
“It helps that you’re so fucking delicious. Does anyone know your professor goes down on you like this? That you’re such a dripping mess every time you see me?” 
“No, of course not, professor. Not that I would care. I’ll let the entire study body watch you pound me.” 
A very tempting offer, but you liked your job, the pay, and the generous benefits. Plus, you enjoyed your meetings with Arin, your little study sessions, and the thrill of getting caught was always a fun part of that. 
For Arin, time felt like it had stalled, as you kept the pressure up, lips sealed shut around her throbbing clit, while you worked your tongue into her warm hole, earning sounds of deep satisfaction from your favorite student’s lips. The squeeze of her heavenly thighs wrapped around your head only intensified, which made you double your efforts, and before you knew it, Arin turned into a whimpering, moaning mess of juices. 
“P-professor! You’re gonna—gonna make me cum!” 
Music to your fucking ears. Soft, but persistent gasps filled the empty classroom, as you kept eye contact with Arin, suckling her clit and lapping up her nectar while her smooth, long legs tossed over your shoulders, thighs threatening to suffocate your face. Not that you would have complained with your face buried in the sweet aroma of her heavenly cunt. 
“Oh god, oh my fucking god! Professor!”
Arin’s voice cracked on the last syllable, hips jerking upwards, body arching off the desk. A loud, desperate moan escaped her mouth as she reached sweet nirvana, and while her fingers dug into your scalp, her quivering thighs took every ounce of breath left in your lungs. Her eyes shut tight just before she came, trembling at your touch, with her messy juices covering your lips that you greedily lapped up as she let out a cry of pure ecstasy. 
You felt her wetness drip down your chin as she let out a contented sigh, and you licked your lips to savor the sweet, tangy nectar while her body kept convulsing, thighs mercifully loosening their grip to allow you to take in air again. As soon as you could breathe properly, you pulled away from her dripping cunt and cleaned up her juices, not letting a single drop go to waste.
Her cheeks grew flushed red, with sweat misted on her forehead as she came down from her high, eyes feeling like lead. Only the sounds of heavy breathing filled the room, but you didn’t give Arin much time to recover.
“Professor, that was—”
You stopped her mid-sentence with a few licks at her sensitive core, then peeled her off the desk and stood her upright. Her legs wobbled as she tried to keep steady, so you moved Arin over to the side of your desk, bending her over as she assumed the position and placed her hands on the wooden surface, still in a cloudy haze from her orgasm. 
“I’m going to fucking ruin you, Yewon.” 
“Please do, professor. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” 
With that said, you lifted her skirt up enough past her slender waist, and stared at her plentiful round ass, equipped with plump and juicy cheeks that made Arin’s delicious backside the definition of perfection. Your fingertips grazed against the soft skin, unable to focus your eyes elsewhere, and you gave one of her buttcheeks a firm smack that made it ripple beautifully, drawing out a new set of moans. 
Arin had such a perfect body, a blessed work of art, that it seemed almost criminal that you were the only one able to see every last inch of it. Regardless, you took pride in being selfish as you stroked yourself, then lined up your throbbing shaft against her inviting heat. Even while your cock kissed her slick folds, you could feel the prominent warmth of her pussy waiting for you, begging for your touch. 
As much as you enjoyed teasing Arin’s entrance, you had no patience for it. You needed to be inside her without delay. So, wasting no more time, you slid into her warmth with a powerful plunge, and let out a gasp at how tight she was. 
You moved slowly at first, rocking your hips, then steadily increased your pace, and pumped into the wet heat that clenched around your cock like a vice. 
When she slammed her hips back, you held on tighter, pumping your entire length into her, then made each movement deeper, much rougher than before. With every stroke, you felt Arin tighten around your shaft, desperately urging you to continue. 
“Fuck me, professor! You feel so good—so big inside me. Don’t be gentle, just pound me!” 
With every thrust you sank yourself even deeper into Arin’s cunt, your cock being squeezed by spasming walls that demanded you wouldn’t leave. You gave into her desires and grabbed a rough handful of hair, pulling her head back. Meanwhile, your other hand reached down and teased her puckered hole, before sliding the entirety of your thumb inside. 
“One of these days, I’ll fuck both your holes at once. And maybe I’ll make you wear a cute little butt plug all day before.” 
She’d love that; you knew she would. You already had proof of how much she loved your cock in both her pussy and her asshole during your so-called office hours. It was necessary to take things to the next level. 
Arin moaned loudly as you fingered her tight asshole with your thumb, making small circles along the rim. “Oh god, professor, please, don’t stop. Please fuck me harder…”
Another wish granted with ease. You loosened the grip on her hair, then spanked her ass hard enough to see the red outline of your hand, which made Arin gasp. One more time, and her breath hitched in her throat when you gave repeated smacks, but she didn’t say a word, and just cried out after every hit. 
Smack after smack, Arin’s pussy tightened around your cock, and she moaned even louder with every addicting sting. The ripe, delicious flesh of her ass rippled while you continued, until the milky skin was bright red and tears ran freely from the corners of her eyes. She could handle more, much more, even with the pain and pleasure that brought a brand new high, but you focused your attention on drilling her cunt instead. You leaned forward and bit into her shoulder, sucking harshly before releasing your teeth, then began pistoning your hips.
“Fuck me, professor! Just like that, fuck my little hole, fuck me, fuck me!” Arin said, a mindless chant of profanity that surely someone outside would hear—either the screams of pleasure made, or the harsh, satisfying smack of your hips against hers. Either way, it didn’t matter. All that did was make good on your promise to ruin Arin, and you did so with your hand wrapped tightly around her throat, a delicate squeeze while you kept pounding her. 
Nobody let you fuck her like Arin did, especially not in the comfort of your classroom. Thankfully, she lived up to expectations, and you hoped she never waned interest in being your fuckdoll, because you could pound her like this until the end of days. 
The only thing missing was the ability to see the orgasmic look in Arin’s wanton eyes. You’d make a mental note to keep a mirror in your drawer so you could both watch her get fucked. 
So, for now, you kept a tight hold on her throat, and watched your cock impale her to the hilt, a series of recurring thrusts so rough you swore you’d break her—not that she would ever mind. 
She never minded anything; not how hard you choked her, or pulled her hair, nor how many times you spanked her ass until it would hurt to sit, and certainly not how rough you pounded her, either in your classroom, the teacher’s lounge bathroom in the early morning before classes started, or your favorite janitor’s closet down right by the principal's office. 
It wasn’t like you were discrete about it, and Arin absolutely didn’t know the meaning of keeping quiet, so you’re pretty sure the entire school knew exactly what you did behind closed doors. And that made it all more exciting. Getting caught was just a game, with boundaries to be tested every week. Hell, you’d both welcome a new set of eyes watching you fuck Arin senseless. 
Even as you were rearranging her guts, you didn’t feel like you were hitting deep enough, or fast enough, but certainly not for lack of trying, given how goddamn drenched she was. Only one way you could fix that, so you lifted her off the desk and pulled her arms behind her back, ramming harshly into her with zero intentions of holding back until her tight body shook with each thrust. 
Her breathy moans evolved into shuddering screams, as you held onto her wrists harder and relentlessly slammed into her again and again, over and over, fueled by the throbbing ache of her wet pussy gripping around you. Sweat profusely dripped off both your bodies, with your hands seizing her arms, Arin begged for more; she pleaded to be taken harder until you would have to carry her out of there. 
“More, professor! More, more, more!” Arin became a broken record, a rally of sobs, a chorus of whimpering moans that turned your animalistic urges into overdrive. The way you fucked her had never been so raw, or utterly uncontrollable, that even as your legs were on fire, you felt no tinge of self-control left. 
“Professor—why isn’t my pussy filled with cum yet?” Arin asked, with strings of spit dripping out down the corners of her lips, her throat almost raw from screaming in pleasure. A very good question, one that would have soon have an answer as you felt the pressure boiling in your core, pounding into her wet, constricting heat so hard that you sent Arin over the edge, not once, but twice, threatening a third climax when she suffocated the life out of your cock. 
You let go of her wrists, then dropped her limp body on to the desk, and returned your grip to her delicious hips. For one final series of thrusts, you used whatever scrap of energy that was left with intentions to ravage her. 
“Please, professor—you know what I need. Fill me, use my warm little hole to cum, let my pussy milk your cock. I need your cum inside me right now, need that hot thick load as deep as it will go. Cum in me, professor.”  
Whatever you had left in the tank was depleted, and now you were a train with no brakes, a car running off the ravine. Every ripple her buttcheeks made, the sweat that dripped down her back, the tight wetness between her thighs that drowned your cock, it set off a meteoric explosion of lust that couldn’t be contained. With a forceful grunt, you made one more powerful slam, and firmly buried inside her warm, welcoming cunt, erupting in violent spasms and twitches, spilling your thick seed into her depths. 
Almost delirious from bliss, you collapsed onto her exhausted body, hips finally faltering, while you tried to catch your breath. Once you could find the strength to move again, you withdrew inch by inch, until your cock that still throbbed exited her sticky folds, unplugging a torrent of hot, creamy semen that leaked out and stained her sweaty, glistening thighs. 
Arin rolled over on her back, then pushed herself off the desk so she could stand face to face for the first time since you had inserted yourself inside her. Eyes still clouded with lust, she grabbed your cock that had yet to soften, and took careful strokes that made sure she hadn’t wasted a drop of your load before she licked her fingers clean.
“Did that live up to your expectations, professor?” she asked with a tired smirk, moving away strands of sweaty hair that had clung to her forehead. 
Looking into her glazed over eyes, you licked several beads of sweat from her neck, the salty taste like an after-dinner treat. “Absolutely, Miss Choi. That’ll bring your grade up at least a few letters. Excellent performance.” 
“Thank you, professor. You can keep those panties, by the way.”  
"I wasn't planning on giving them back. Consider them extra credit.” 
Yewon giggled, and tried to make her disheveled self as presentable as one could after being railed. With every step, your cum dripped down her thighs, and her hip sway was still as unmistakable as ever.
“See you on Monday, professor.” 
Note: Please read my post about tumblr's new label system, and make sure that you've enabled mature content on your dashboard. I've left labels off for this post so that it doesn't get lost, but will be using them for the next fic.
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kpopjust4u · a day ago
Just between you and me.
Post Date: 28th September 2022 Content: Smut - NCT Jeno x Reader  WC: 4.7K TW?: Professor!Jeno/ Student!Reader/ Legal!/ Penetration/ Office sex/ Praise/ Unestablished relationship/ Slight possessiveness/ Creampie Request?: Yes
Masterlist                                    Prompt list
Prompts: 70 - “You drive me crazy” 77 - “My dirty secret” 112 - “What are you doing?”
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On the first day, anxiety keeps you on edge as you attempt to put on your make-up however your hand tremours made it incredibly hard to even make a wing for your eyeliner. It was your first day, you wanted, you needed to make an effort just for yourself. 
“Y/N, are you almost-” your best friend, Elina goes to ask but gets stopped in her tracks when she catches you trying to station yourself, eyeliner pen to your eye, tongue sticking out in concentration.
The second you heard her, you jump and your hand flexes, marking your eyeliner anywhere else other than your eye on your face, looking back into the mirror in shock as you rush to clean it up. “Elina!” you wail, patting at your face with your make-up wipe to carefully rid of the eyeliner that covered your cheek. 
She couldn’t help but burst into laughter, steering her way closer to you as she picks up the eyeliner and lets you finish cleaning your face up before pinching your face to look at her, eyeliner in hand at your eyes as she creates the perfect wings. 
Grateful that she helped, you let out a little thank you, turning back to the mirror as you brush out your hair, catching your best friend smiling stupidly in the reflection, “What? What are you smiling at?” you bite, her expression dropping as she tries to hide it.
“Smiling at what? My bestie being absolutely beautiful? Anyway, who are you trying to impress?” she teases, nudging your shoulder slightly, taking a seat on your bed as she awaits your reply. 
It was impossible to resist rolling your eyes at her comment, shaking your head at it. Like you wanted to impress someone on the first day? You just wanted to make an effort for yourself and she got the wrong idea. 
“I’m not trying to impress anyone, El. I ain’t got time to do so either, I’m going to be neck deep in college work to even worry about boys,” you sigh, wondering where these couple of years will take you, and if you were going to believe that. 
Elina just laughs, leaning over you as she checks you out, looking at you in your turtleneck, plaid skirt and high knee socks with your hair styled in a half-up, half-down look. Not only that, but you were so pressed about your make-up is perfect.
Looking at you through the mirror reflection, she smiles, pinching your cheeks, “I think you’ll end up pulling your professor,” her voice taunted you, the way she emphasised the word ‘professor’. 
“You can’t be serious?” you laughed back, nudging her off of you as you take a stand, straightening up your skirt and pulling up your socks, “But you think I look good though?”.
Elina throws you an ‘OK’ hand sign, pursing her lips before breaking out into laughter and throwing your bag at you, “Come on, we don’t want to be late for our first day now, do we?”. 
The building towers over and surrounds you, the real anxiety set in as you clutch hard onto your notebook, gulping at the sight of the crowds of students filling the grounds. It was impossible to tell if they were also 1st years, but that didn’t matter, the fact that you had no clue how this first year was going to go had your hands shaking nervously.
Making your way through the crowded corridors, you find yourself outside the seminar room that you needed to be in first thing, looking at the sign to check if it correlated with the timetable you had in front of you. 
A small voice calls from behind you, “Are you a first year?”, you turn around to meet a tall guy, whose hair was brightly coloured pink, and he seemed nervous. 
You manage to stifle a little nod, pointing towards the door, “This is Greek Mythology with Mr Lee, isn’t it?” your voice shakes with every word, nerves setting you up for failure on your first day.
“Yeah, in fact I spent my entire year last year in this room and still had to re-sit my first year again, so welcome to the class!” the guy smiles, rocking on his heels as he clutches onto the straps of his backpack, “I’m Jaemin, nice to meet you!”.
“I’m Y/N, so a 1st year all over again huh?” you laugh, softening up to the guy who’s helping you to feel a lot calmer about starting, his small nod in reply as he nervously scratches the back of his head. 
“If you want, sit with me. I’ll help you where I can,” Jaemin smiles, opening the door, and letting you go ahead of him as he rushes to what seemed to be his usual seat, taking a place next to him and setting your stuff down. 
You take a moment to look around the room filled with partially empty seats, your eyes falling onto the empty desk at the front of the class, “So, what’s Mr Lee like?” you abruptly ask, curious as to who’s going to be your professor for the next few years.
“Oh him? No one to worry about, he’s really chill and hard to piss off, but you’ll get on just great if you do your work and actually show up for lectures,” Jaemin replies, pulling out his notebook from his bag as he leans back in his chair.
With that in mind, you feel slightly better about the course that you have chosen, and you couldn’t complain, having Jaemin as your buddy in class will probably be a lot of help, he’s something for sure. 
In your slight daydream about how the year could pan out, you didn’t notice the professor walking in and the room falls silent, “Welcome students,” his voice was deep and slightly raspy, pulling you out of the daydream.
The second you lay eyes on the man at the front of the class, your heart skips a beat. Your professor was tall and blonde with sharp facial features, especially his jaw. Your mouth and eyes widen slightly, now considering how could you possibly focus on the work if your lecturer looked like that.
The man stood barely six feet away from you, smiling at the class with his hands clasped together in front of him, taking a look around the class at his new students, then stopped at you and Jaemin.
“I see you have a new friend, Jaemin? I expect you to behave now?” he jokes, making you flush red at the cheeks as you look at Jaemin who’s got a smirk plastered on his face.
Then you felt the strong, piercing gaze of Jeno on you with a smile on his face that was close enough to be a smirk, “Make sure he actually does his work, will you?” he winks, walking towards the whiteboard and writing his full name on it,
“So, I’m Professor Jeno Lee, but you can call me Jeno. There’s no need for formalities in my class, but you’re welcome to call me whatever you please,” he smiles before reaching for the book in front of him, “So today, we’re going to do a little ice-breaker, so you can get to know each other and we can get along fine. There will be a lot of group work so this should help ease any nerves”. 
Oh great, ice-breaker to start, what could go wrong? To start, during the grouped-up work to break the said ice, you barely participated, finding yourself following Jeno around the classroom, getting nudged by Jaemin constantly to re-focus. 
“Earth to Y/N,” Jaemin giggles, watching your face scrunch up the second you realise it was your turn to talk in the group. “Are you with us?” he continues, leaning in towards you to whisper in your ear, “Or are you crushing on the professor?”.
You could’ve hit him, you should’ve but you keep yourself composed, giving him an evil side-eye before filling in the sheet in front of you and smiling at the others in the group.
“So, I’m Y/N...” you trail on about yourself to the group, completely unaware that your professor was looking at you from across the room, a smirk on his face with his arms crossed in front of his chest, putting his attention back on the class minutes after.
It was amazing how a small moment to talk to others in your class made you feel welcome, and feel like you were going to have a great year. Everyone was so nice to each other, exchanging social media and adding everyone into a group chat for the class.
Not only that, but you were grateful for how close you and Jaemin were getting already, and there wasn’t even anything slightly romantic between you that you respected and loved even more. 
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaemin asks, leading your way down to the food hall, jumping at the sudden shout of your name being called as Elina runs towards you, instantly looking at you with a certain look.
“Of course, see you tomorrow,” you reply with a small smile, waving him off and turning back to your best friend who’s got an eyebrow raised, a smirk plastered on her lips, pointing between you and the guy who’s just walked away from you.
“No, Elina. Don’t get any ideas, he’s my classmate,” you hissed to shut her up before any words come out of that mouth of hers, pulling at her arm as you drag her to grab some food.
“So nothing? You don’t think you’ll be something? Wait... About your professor, tell me about him,” she goes off on a tangent, your eyes shooting wide open once your professor gets mentioned.
Pink flushes on your cheeks as you turned to silence, looking at the array of food displayed in the hall, purposely trying to ignore your best friend who’s trying to get the gossip from you.
But the silence was enough along with your flushed cheeks, a slight squeal escapes her lips as she links her arm with yours, “Is he hot? Is he not? Something’s gotten you flustered over me mentioning him”.
“He’s hot.. trust me, I don’t know how I’m going to get through the year nevermind pass his class,” you giggle in defeat, Elina laughing with you as the look she gave you earlier returns.
“Just sleep with him, plus, if you don’t want your so called class mate, I’ll have him” she giggles, walking ahead of you sassily as you throw your head back, rolling your eyes. 
“He’s not going anywhere near you with a ten foot poll, if I can help it,” you reply, shooting her a serious look as she holds her hand up in defence, smirking with a shrugged shoulder.
In the days to follow, you find yourself becoming the best of friends with Jaemin, finding it hard to be in class without him, and being your class clown when you’re struggling on certain days to cheer you up.
Not only that, but you struggle to concentrate when your professor always walks in looking like he came out of a movie or off a runway, looking extremely clean and fresh in his suits that he pulls off so well. 
Since this, you find yourself starting to impress him and for what? You were the student, he was the professor, it wasn’t like anything was ever going to happen between you. Not in a million years.
Jaemin notices you in another one of your trances over Jeno, laughing as he nudges you, trying to distract you from such, “So, do you think I’d have any chance with your friend? She’s hella cute”.
“Jaemin, I will phyically break your legs before I ever consider letting you near my best friend,” you sharpishly reply, trying to hide a smile, finding it adorable how heads over heels he is for your best friend.
He couldn’t help but act offended, clutching his chest as he dramatically falls back in his seat, “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he whines, bottom lip poking out at you. 
Before you could even reply with a sarcastic comment, Jeno stands tall over the both of you, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking completely unimpressed by your chatting.
Jeno scopes at the lack of notes being written, tutting as he flips between the pages of your books, “So, chatting about getting with her best friend is more interesting than my class is it, Jaemin?” he sassily asks, leaning back as Jaemin struggles to hide a laugh.
“Of course not, Sir,” he replies with a croaky voice, then the attention was brought to you by both of them, “Y/N was going to tell me to focus on my work, weren’t you?”.
At his reach for you to defend him, you nod hesitantly, meeting Jeno’s gaze as you stutter on your words, “Yes- Yes Sir”. Something about calling him sir just felt... weird. Like you wanted to scream it whilst he did some unforgivable things to you. 
Jeno clicks his tongue, a small smirk creeping onto his face as he gently touches your shoulder as he walks past, “Make sure to keep him on track then,” he adds, disappearing behind you to check on the other students.
It could’ve been just an innocent gesture of touching your shoulder, but the skin burned where he touched, rushing to cover yourself with your cardigan, you became flustered and fantasies start to play in your mind.
The class flows by, and your notes cover the page, completely ruining your wanted aesthetic that wished for when it came to writing your notes, but you couldn’t care. At least you had something down besides being obsessed with your professor.
Finding yourself alone in the seminar room, you find the time to text Elina, telling her about the interaction earlier who was completely losing her mind on the receiving end of the texts. 
Laughing at her bold and all capital replies, you set your phone down beside your notebook, finding it the perfect time to add some additional work to the time you had spare. 
Your phone buzzes once again, but this time a text from Jaemin, “You seriously need to keep your panties on in class, you might start to make it obvious that you have the biggest crush on the hottie professor”. 
It was surprising that Jaemin always had the guts to tease you like this but you wouldn’t have it any other way, you were just grateful he wasn’t pining for you, and at this point, he was just as bad of an influence as Elina was when it came to Jeno. 
Speaking of who, his voice makes you jump as he walks back into the room, surprised to see you still situated in your seat after class was dismissed, “What are you doing?” he asked lowly, coffee in hand.
“I- I- Was just doing some work. I’m sorry, I’ll be leaving now,” you apologised, accidentally leaving your phone on as you rush to pack all of your stuff away, Jeno managing to get a glimpse of your texts.
Just as you were about to get up and leave, Jeno picks up your phone, handing it to you as you look up at him stupidly, “Don’t forget this,” he smiles as you take it from his grasp.
That small smile turned into a smirk, watching you struggle to find the motivation to move despite feeling the need to run out of the room as quick as you possibly could so you weren’t in the room alone with him for long.
However, you spent too much time looking at him, knees going weak at being so close to him, his breath gently brushing on your face, the smell of coffee filling your nostrils. 
“I, better go,” the small muster of words manage to leave your mouth as you go to push past him but you’re stopped in your tracks when his hand wraps around your arm, stopping you from moving any further.
A small sigh falls from his lips, “You’re doing well in my class, Y/N. Try not get too distracted by... temptations,” the way he pauses before finishing his sentence, smirking at the word ‘temptations’ made your eyes shoot open, nodding briefly before running off.
He handed you your phone, he was standing next to you with your phone on, he could’ve seen your texts with Jaemin which were still there when you turned your phone on. Your set into panic, finding no escape other than to hide away in your room the second you step foot into your flat.
Ignoring everyone, you locked yourself away from anyone, staying up all night with your mind racing about the whole situation with Jeno. 7 a.m. rolls around and you should’ve slept but you couldn’t even let yourself cave in, getting straight out of bed, covering your dark circles with make-up and picking a revealing outfit unconsciously, like you wanted to get caught under him. 
You didn’t even have to be on campus today, but you dragged yourself in to try and attempt to get some research done for another class, fighting with yourself as you down each cup of coffee that you buy when walking past the Starbucks. 
When nothing was helping, you decided to go on a search for Jaemin, who could be in one of three places and he wasn’t in the food hall as you would’ve seen him with the number of times you went to get refills. 
Where could he possibly be? as you trail down the corridors, slugging yourself along, you creep closer to Jeno’s office, heart racing and suddenly wide awake with so much energy as adrenaline thrives through you, what if he says something?
Just when you thought you were in the clear after successfully walking past his door, his voice calls from behind you, “Y/N, weren’t expecting to see you in today. But I’m glad you are, we need to have a little chat,” he affirms, voice stern as his classic stance takes your breath away when you turn to face him.
“Shit...” you hiss to yourself under your breath, he was the last person that you needed to see today and now he wanted to have a chat? What could it be about? Will you get kicked out of his class? Your nerves were on edge the entire time as you unwillingly enter his room.
The door locks behind you, Jeno strutting to lean on the front of his desk, looking at you in your choice of outfit and fights a smirk, “Don’t you think that’s a little... revealing? Got to be careful about the boys in this school,” he comments as your heart is in your throat.
“I’m sorry- Jen- Sir, it was the first thing I picked up this morning, I was in a rush,” you cough, unable to look at him as your hands become clammy, it was hard to resist looking at him, the glimpse you had of him outside was enough to make your core weep for attention. 
Jeno scoffs lowly, walking towards you to stand tall over you, his aftershave strong but sweet, turning into a lust potion at this point as you felt yourself shut your thighs tightly together, sweating slightly. 
In an attempt to get your mind out of the gutter, you try to string words together, voice breaking and shivering, “What- What did you want to talk about, Sir?”. The smirk that crept onto his face made your heart skip a beat, unable to look away from his face, up close, he was a literal god. 
“You drive me crazy, Y/N. Calling me Sir so innocently like you weren’t being so filthy, thinking about me in class,” he points out that he knew about your fantasies, and you are brought to shock and silenced, “Oh, and leaving your texts open with Jaemin, I seen it”.
At that moment, you wanted the whole ground to swallow you up whole, to rid of your existence, and you knew it, you knew he had read the text. How dare he invade your privacy like that? you wanted to scream at him for doing so but there was a part of you that was tempted by the route this was taking.
Mustering a small reply, you whisper, “So, does this mean I’m expelled from your class?”. Such an innocent question, so innocent and genuine that it made Jeno cackle, shaking his head and putting a hand on your waist, pulling you close to him. 
He stares deeply into your eyes as his tongue brushes against his bottom lip, “That’s a little extreme don’t you think? I have something else in mind if you want to stay in this class,” he whispers in your ear, and you were pretty sure that you were going to collapse at that very sentence. 
“But-” you try to protest, wanting to protect you both from getting caught but a finger is put against your lips, as much as you wanted this to happen, god forbid you to get caught. That’s what you were scared of.
Jeno brushes his lips against yours, smirking as you melt against the softness of his plump lips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck as you’re lifted onto a table, legs wrapping around his waist. 
The kiss suddenly becomes extremely heated from out of nowhere, both of you brought to heavy breathing, trying to keep yourselves calm from tearing off each other’s clothes there and then.
For a moment, Jeno releases from the kiss, smirking as his hands trail the curves and edges of your body whilst biting down hard on his bottom lip, “God knows how many times I’ve been thinking about this since you came into my class”.
His hand finally rest on your thighs, grabbing them with firm grips as you whimper a little, earning a smirk on his lips as he repeats it, watching your face scrunch at his touch. 
“I need you,” you whimper, fighting to pull him closer to your face again to bring him into another kiss, but he holds back, a smirk just plastered on his lips as he watches you become so desperate for him. 
“Oh, I bet you do. It’s been difficuilt for you daydreaming about his moment huh? Daydreaming about having your professor rail you like such a good girl, huh?” his voice teased, deep with a hint of mocking, and you were ready to crumble if he didn’t touch you.
Without even having to think about it, you tighten your legs around his waist, doe eyes looking up at him as a pout form on your lips, “Yes Sir, please Sir,” you whimper quietly to make sure that no one else could hear you. But whether o not you could keep quiet when he fucks you would be another thing.
His brows furrow together, his lips parting as his thumb caresses your bottom lip, pulling it down before crashing his lips against yours once again whilst unbuckling his belt, letting his cock spring free at the perfect height at your core.
The way you bite down on his lip, pulling him closer and using one hand to jerk him off was clear enough that you needed him there and then. His long fingers trailed under your skirt, pulling your underwear to the side as he pulls you as close to him as possible and with a thrust, he was in you fully and making you want to scream on his lips.
His hand supports your back as he trusts merciless into you, making you whimper on his lips as you fought the urge to moan as loud as you’d usually want to, and it was difficult, he was huge and it felt so good caressing the insides of your tight little cunt. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve been needing this, you’re behaving so well, doll,” he grunts into your ear as you whimper whilst biting down on his jacket, the only thing muting your moans that fight to be heard. 
If that was one thing to lose your mind over, the way his thumb caresses over your sensitive clit was almost enough to make you cum right there and then, legs vibrating around him at the multiple stimulations. 
His lips connect to your neck, planting wet and sloppy kisses over the sensitive skin, accidentally marking you a little when he starts to get a little too excited, especially when you pulse around him so much. 
Your lips were also bound to be bruised with how hard you were biting down on them, your mind going completely fuzzy as you hold your breath for so long to hold back the moans.
“You feel as good as you fucking look, I don’t think I could ever get enough of this,” he grunts again, his breath making the skin on your neck tingle, hair strands standing on your skin as you couldn’t help but let out a moan, hoping it wasn’t audible to the crowds outside the office. 
That was if the sound of slamming skin wasn’t enough for them to hear, or the creaking of the table being thrust against. You’d be very surprised if you made it out of his office without everyone looking at you.
But that didn’t matter to you at this moment, your daydreams were coming true as you find yourself coming close to your orgasm, Jeno cooing against your lips, praising you like you were the most perfect thing on the earth. 
“You’re going to be my dirty little secret, then maybe once you graduate, I’ll make you mine officially,” he grunts, slowly becoming possessive of you as he grips you harder with the arm that was around you. 
“Sir- Please- I’m going to-” you stutter through little cries, his thrusts increasing to bring you over the edge, his fingers that toyed with your clit are forced into your mouth to muffle the lewd sounds that come out of you as you come all over his cock. 
Jeno laughs on your neck as he feels you tense around his hard cock inside of you, tightening around him so much that he feels himself coming to his climax as well, needing the release soon.
“Where do you want me to cum, princess?” he asks, his eyes piercing your skin as your face scrunches from the constant penetrations of your sensitive walls, not letting your legs drop from around his waist.
It was lucky enough that you could manage a reply before he made the decision himself, but of course, it was going to be the same as yours, “Fill me up, please Sir,” you cry, his fingers being held in front of your lips as you reply.
Within seconds, his warm strings of release fill you up, panting against you, his forehead resting against yours as his thrusts come to a slow stop. It takes him a moment to pull out, not wanting to leave the warm and wet place, pulling your underwear back over your sore cunt as he kisses you gently, letting you come down from your high. 
Gently letting you down off the table, he brings out a chair to place it in front of his desk, setting you on it as he reaches to open the windows, spraying around the room to mask the scent of sex, laughing as he takes a seat opposite you after unlocking the door.
“Now, I need you to write me this paper,” he announces quite loudly to make sure that no one got the wrong idea, smiling at you as he placed a sheet in front of you for you to “analiyse” in front of him to “confirm” you understood just in case someone walked in. 
However, instead, your head rested on your arms on his desk, his fingers trailing through your hair, playing with it as he lets you collect yourself before letting you leave his office, but not without a firm kiss on your bruised lip first.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he smiles, as you nod at him, kissing his cheek as you adjusted his tie and shirt, tidying yourself up also, “Y/N, I’ll keep my word, I’m going to be waiting for you”. 
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Tags: @scuzmunkie, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @hipster-shiz​. @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007
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songmingisthighs · a day ago
introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii
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ch. xxiii - feel my bones
wooyoung × reader, ??? × reader
in a school filled with the affluent, it would only make sense for birds of a feather to flock. but what if your new status doesn't immediately buy you a way into said flock? what if instead, it bought you sure rejection? to the rich and powerful, having different masks is a must. despite some people knowing your true self and your secrets
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taglist :
@paralumanniluna @rdiamond2727 @miaatiny @baguette-atiny @kpopnightingale @dear-dreamie @potaeto-writes-on-wp @kwanisms @qghosty @charreddonuts @noonaishere @bbymatz @maddiebabyxoxo @kawennote09 @woo-stars @treasure-1117 @starjoongie1117 @cutie-wooyo @linhyyboo12 @kodzukein @dreamlesswonder86 @glitterhongjoong @kitty4hwa @ateezourstars @starlight-channie @jo-hwaberry @yla-aira @hyuckilstan @phenomenalgirl9 @flamingi @tannie13 @gxlden-bxbyy @kirooz @leagreenly @seoulscenarios @purenjuniverse @meowmeowminnie @star1117-archives @ilsedingsx @kkayfan @ckline35 @jaxavance @yoongiigolden @jayeonnature @hwanchaesong @multihoe-net
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hansolmates · 2 days ago
vernon; test drive | 01
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summary; hansol vernon chwe is crying at his doorstep like a taylor swift music video, and you’re for some reason there to help  pairing; hvc / reader (f) genre/warnings; neighbors to friends, friends to lovers!au, slice of life, fluff, angst, tw—cheating, mentions of pregnancy related to cheating, profanity w/c; 1k a/n; im still so oh so very sad over be the sun tour ending. i had such a great time and i miss vern so much, so i decided to write some sad!vern. would love to thank @theluttleprince​ for making this gorgeous banner with these scans. *this will be a very noncommittal drabble series, i know this isn’t the return many were expecting but pls be gentle with me—unedited unplanned and all around chaotic impulses, you know the drill! take care drink water and have a wonderful week! 
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Vernon was (and is) always touted as a good guy. Way out of your league, if you remember college correctly. (To your chagrin, you were sober through most of it.) He was a talented producer in the music program, part of a drama-free fraternity that raised money as fast as they donated, and all-around Good Guy with professors and students alike. 
So when you see him sobbing like he’s the peak of Niagara Falls at the front of his apartment five years later, you can’t imagine what Good Guy Vernon could be going through to feel this way. 
It just so happened that the elevator is under repair tonight, otherwise you would’ve missed him and been in bed with your bowl of black bean noodles. 
The stairs are echoing on his floor, the telltale cries almost making you drop your take-out. You peek out the stairwell and Vernon’s forehead is pressed against the front door, unwilling to move his hand which clutched his keys. Poor guy, he couldn’t make it inside before he could cry in peace. 
He still is way out of your league, and therefore you really don’t feel like you’re equipped enough to approach him. The only reason that you’re living in the same complex is that he posted in your university Facebook group about a great apartment in a quiet part of the city. You never replied to the post, however you probably should’ve thanked him at least. This place was absolutely perfect, both within your budget and a short commute to your job. 
You wave hello to each other on occasion, very slight occasion. Without speaking. 
Palms sweaty, you decide to walk up to him. You really can’t leave him like this, not when he sounds so sad. 
“Vernon,” you say softly. No response. He’s shaking. “Vern,” you’re finally an arm’s length away from him when you say his name one more time. “Hansol Vernon Chwe!” 
You don't mean to exclaim, but you regret it as soon as he flinches. Your heart aches for him, you can see his face is patchy and while his eyes are still brown and beautiful, they're glassy with a never-ending stream of tears. 
He rubs his eyes with his oversized arm sleeve, "Shit, m'sorry. Do we know each other?" 
That question didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. "We went to college together. I attended a few of your mixes, which were always great.” And under your breath you mutter, “I may or may not have pushed Soonyoung in the gym pool sophomore year." 
A mixture of a huff and chuckle escape his lips, "I remember now. His phone was in his pocket." 
You smile. Even if you never did have a conversation in university, it feels good to have left a memory, however minute, in his student career. “So, do you wanna tell me what happened?” 
He sighs, “It’s Yoojung.” 
You blink back, tilting your head. Yoojung was the cute freshman that plopped on the scene the first week of September. It was no surprise that Vernon would be into her all those years ago. She was sassy, sexy, and packed a powerful personality in that petite body. In fact, you couldn’t imagine what could’ve been wrong, because last time you checked social media, they were doing peachy. 
But obviously there is something wrong. With two fingers, you tug apprehensively at his sleeve. It’s the one holding his house keys. “Do you wanna go inside?” 
With a frown, you stare at the seemingly harmless off-white door. If it is girl trouble, you’d imagine that Vernon would be coming home to a lot of painful memories if that were the case. Maybe Yoojung left her clothes or something and he’d start wailing again. 
“How about you come chill in my apartment?” you blurt out, holding out your bag of take-out in hopes he’d be enticed by food. “I have jajangmyeon. We can share.” At the mention of food, his stomach growls in reply. A resounding yes. You bite your lip in an attempt to hide your smile, but it was no use. With a jerk of your head and a light pat on his shoulder, you lead him two more floors up to your room. 
You grimace at how evident it is that your apartment is not ready for guests. The door is only open two centimeters in and you can see your nude bra (not even the sexy kind) hanging from your ironing board. 
Vernon trails behind you, shutting the door. 
“God, what a bad first impression huh?” you chime, stalking up to snatch your bra and throw it in the laundry basket. “Sorry about that, do you want something to drink—”
“Yoojung might be pregnant.” 
You drop your take out, plastic clanging on your coffee table. Vernon is unmoving, shoes on. You take a tentative step towards him, offering him another unseen smile. “Oh? Well, did you guys get tested—”
“I wouldn’t be the father.” Vernon mutters bitterly, bangs falling on his eyes. “We’ve never had sex.” 
Oh. You’re quiet as Vernon finally shucks off his shoes, taking the time to push them neatly against the steps. He even hangs his denim jacket up, along with his bag. If he notices you staring at him, he ignores it. Breaking out of your reverie, you force yourself into your tiny kitchen, making as much noise as possible when taking out the kitchenware. 
“Do you want wine or tea?” you ask. 
“Tea, please. Do you have honey and milk?” 
You smile, picking out a Winnie the Pooh mug from your display case. “You got it.” 
With your water heater on, you busy yourself up. You notice for such a lanky guy, it’s easy for Vernon to appear so small. He’s curled up on your couch, poking at one of your stuffed animals as he settles for turning on your TV. The soft fluffy blanket matches his oversized sweatsuit, one big gray blob stretching over your couch.
Grabbing the bear-shaped honey bottle, you squeeze as much of the syrupy confection as you can into his mug. It looks like he needs it. 
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guanana · 19 hours ago
wants n’ kneads (teaser) ♡ njm x reader 
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— part of the neo therapy collection (18+)
tentative release date: sunday, october 9th
teaser word count: 1.9k+
pairing: masseuse!jaemin x reader
genre: f x m, smut, crack
summary: the stress of the office has caught up to you once again. in fact, it came back so strong your back has given out ten times worse than before.
as if things couldn't get any worse, jeno’s out of town. with your trusty chiropractor missing in action, circumstance leads you to the front door of neo therapy’s late night masseuse.
jaemin's not the friendliest nor the most talkative, so your utter confusion makes complete sense when his fingers find themselves knuckle-deep in your pussy halfway through the massage.
teaser warnings/content: no smut but mc gets naked + the touching gets very suggestive, mean & cold jaemin, black hair nana superiority, features of characters/references to prior to this part, as always poor mc bites off more than she can chew </3
author’s note: back to the grind! our taglist is very much open, and it’d mean the world if you’d be interested in being tagged in this fic along with future installments by both monnie and i :)  those who have already joined will be tagged once the full fic is uploaded
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You’ve never been to a massage parlor before, much less a private practice in of itself. It’s jarring, the single spa table smack dab in the middle of the poorly lit room. Under a different circumstance, you’d laugh at the obvious similarity it has to Jeno’s ‘spinal stabilizer table,’ but you’re still a bit bitter at him for how he spoke to you during your call with him.
Everything else is barely illuminated by the two white candles that rest atop the decorative stands at either side of the bed. The source of the sound of flowing water can be appointed to the office-sized bamboo fountain, plopping up and down with each round. A wall-drilled shelf that carries a whole array of oils, perfume bottles, and house plants alike– Na Jaemin seems to be as put together as he looks. There’s even a well-loved money tree at the corner of the room.
It’s soothing, even the soft yet earthy scent of chrysanthemum from the lit incense puts you somewhat at ease. Yet your less than fruitful introduction to the standoffish man on the other side of the door keeps you from fully relaxing. Was he really Jeno’s ‘best friend?’ Those two couldn’t be any more different than night and day.
Consciously, you will yourself to bring your hands to the top of your collar, undoing the first button of your work blouse. You had hoped to look for relief in stripping yourself of the damned outfit you’ve had on since the sun had risen, but the opposite effect seems to come to play. As the confines of your shirt grows looser with every level gone lower, you realize that the tightness around your neck wasn’t from the blouse, but your own volatility. 
God, this was so last minute. Looking down at your breasts, you had completely run out of the house with your blandest bra. But did that even matter? How much were you even supposed to take off when getting a massage? The guy didn’t even specify, and it’s not like you could ask him anyway– he was unapproachable as all hell, what with that stinky glare of his.
You decide to go with your gut and keep on your camisole that you’ve worn underneath, and shortly your pencil skirt follows with a flick of the buckle and an unzip. Stepping out from the fabric that’s pooled around your feet, you dispose of your signature heels right after. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you feel just a bit self conscious. You aren’t naked, but you feel way too bare for someone you barely know. At least Yangyang had gone out of his way to make you feel welcome in his salon, no matter how overzealous or eager he was. 
Now you were really overthinking things. It’s just business, Jaemin is probably more than used to this by now. 
Tap, tap, tap. 
“Ready?” Jaemin calls from behind the oak wood door, and you’re now scrambling to sloppily fold your clothes and toss them onto the closest elevated surface. 
“Ah, yeah! Hold on just a second!” Flopping under the thin sheet that has been provided on top of the massage table, you topple over face down and dig your face into the hole that’s left for you to breathe out of. Shimmying and securing your bottom to make sure that your ass cheeks wouldn’t be outright in his face, you deem yourself as physically ready as you can for your massage. Mentally though? That was another story. “Okay! You can come in now!”
The screech of the door is blaring as it invades your ears, and the padding of footsteps has you biting your cheek in something akin to apprehension. You can’t see, but in seconds you can feel his presence next to you. He has an unwelcoming and cold aura that is tacit even without looking at him. 
You don’t know what you were expecting. A run down of what entails in this luxury package, maybe? But instead you feel a finger hook against the protective sheet that covers your body, pulling it down just past your shoulders. The unanticipated action makes you jolt slightly, especially when you feel the surface of his knuckle just barely caress the top of your spine.
“I thought you said that you were ready?” Is all he says, and the confusion has you pushing yourself up from the bed and twisting yourself to look at him.
That same bored expression is present on his face, and it kind of bothers you. “I… am?” 
He groans, glaring at you like you’ve failed to follow some basic instructions that even the most simple minded person could. The hand that was at your back earlier travels around your front where you’re bent to face him, and it’s now looping around the spaghetti strap of your undershirt. “You’re still wearing clothes.” He deadpans. Pulling the strap along with his knuckle, he carelessly lets it snap against your skin, causing you to recoil in shock. You’re spared not even a second when he grabs at the sheet to reveal yourself and your modesty to his gaze. “You did get the deluxe package, yes?”
The minimal source of light makes him appear all the more threatening, his eyes shadowed and voided under the black strands that fall just a little over his brows. Absurdly broad shoulders and a thick neck that support a strikingly gorgeous face, quirked to the side with lowered lids. You weren’t able to pinpoint it then, but you can now: Jaemin intimidates the fuck out of you.
“I did.” You confirm.
“Then take the rest of these off,” He huffs, discarding the sheet onto you once again, and you’re flailing against it when it catches against your limbs awkwardly. “You took so long I thought you’d be done by now, but you’ve already cut into five minutes of your session already.”
“Five?” You stammer, completely appalled by how ridiculously picky he’s being. “But you haven’t even started yet!”
“Time is money, and I don’t have a second to waste,” He retorts, tapping his foot impatiently with every beat of inaction you commit to. “Now if you don’t want to cut any further into either of our time and want me to get started, I suggest you do things properly.”
Now he’s just being an asshole. “Fine,” You say, crossing your arms under the hem of your undershirt before ripping it off and tossing it at his shoes pettishly. “Let’s just get this over with. I’d hate to waste your oh so precious time,” The action makes the skin of his cheek hollow, and he’s kicking the article of clothing to the side as if it’s tainted his precious YSL’s. You tut at his blatant rudeness. Pretentious prick. 
The intimidation is replaced with so much fury that you can’t stop yourself from keeping your mouth shut– “Even if I’m the only one who’s actually giving you business tonight. Your schedule was looking quite empty.”
“Excuse me?” He begs your pardon as you turn away from him, missing the way he licks his lips when you turn away to unclasp your bra. 
“Stole a look at your planner when you let me in,” You mutter as the beige piece falls steadily from your shoulders, covering your breasts with your forearm so you don’t flash him a nipple. “Looks like I was your only appointment this whole day? I’m guessing Jeno wanted me to come here to help you keep the lights on.”
“You’re awfully cheeky,” He growls, his growing irritation is more than apparent, and it brings you some satisfaction that you’re able to get a rise out of him. “Service providers like us have slow days, too. I have plenty of clients, so don’t act like a know-it-all.”
“With the ‘service’ you provide,” You say with air quotes, giving his stance a quick once over up and down. “It’s hard to imagine you get any customers at all. Not with this attitude, at least.” 
It seems that the cat’s gotten his tongue when he doesn’t respond, and you take great pride in your small victory. You allow a smirk to take over your features before you go to lay flat down onto the bed. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to warrant such behavior, but maybe that’s why you have three stars on Yelp.” But just as your nipples graze the cool black leather of the surface, a large hand grips at the nape of your neck to stop you. “Wha–”
“What’d I say about keeping conversation to a minimum?” He quirks a brow at you, the thumb of his hand digging deeply into the side of your neck, but instead of pain you feel an odd sense of relief when he draws rough circles into the spot. You involuntarily curl into the touch, a hitch of breath betraying your urge to bite at him. “See? All this talking has kept you from getting what you need.”
Dropping your head onto the cushion lazily, you let both of his hands travel down the expanse of your back. His touch is adhered by the clothed boundary, a benign yet teasing reminder of your blissful ignorance to what’s expected in a massage. Pressure is applied onto the tightest knots of your back, and as they unwind you find that Jaemin is assessing your reactions with every movement. A glide of the bottom of his palm here, a knead of the flat of his knuckles along your shoulder blade there. Lower and lower he travels, and your eyelashes fall over like a curtain coming to a close, sleep threatening to overtaking your senses–
“You forgot one more.” He lilts with a handful of your ass, giving an experimental squeeze that has you instinctively grabbing at his forearm. Your jaw drops at not only the audacity but the strained vein that trails up the bare skin, completely missing him rolling his sleeves on before getting to work on you. 
“What are you talking about?” You splutter, making eye contact where your bottom and his grasp meet, and you’d be a fool to deny that the contact has a bout of heat traveling from where it begins to your ears. 
Completely disregarding your pitiful state, that blank stare now morphed to an amused face that reeks of complacency. Jiggling and palming at the flesh as if to add onto your embarrassment, he answers as if it was clear as day. Sneaking around the white cloth that served to protect you, he tugs at the hem of your panties, specifically at the crotch.
“I told you to take the rest off,” He shakes his head, tugging upward so that it scrunches up against your folds. “You ordered the deluxe package, which requires you to be completely naked. I can’t work with this.”
“But I thought–”
“You want to feel better, right?” He croons, lips puckering into a pout as he watches you squirm against him. “Don’t you?” 
After the horrible week you’ve had, the shit that your supervisor put you through, and now the way Jeno treated you– Jaemin is right. You just want to drown out everything that’s happened and fall into utter relaxation. 
“Let me take these off?” He asks, tracing the curve of your cheek. When you give him a terse nod, you receive your very first smile from him. Though it’s a bit disingenuous, something in your gut telling you that he may or may not have your best intentions in mind. It somehow exhilarates you though, his unpredictability keeping you on your toes for what he’ll do next. 
“That was just a glimpse of the session,” His voice lulls you in like a pied piper when he slides the fabric down your legs, beckoning you to follow him into the deepest depths of pleasure. You grant him room to let it slide past your ankles, and you’re now laid completely bare for him to see. “I guess I can be generous and add an extra few minutes to your session.”
A pleased hum sounds behind you, and you peek over your shoulder to catch his bottom lip caught between his teeth, ogling your now visible folds. It’s as if he wishes to show you that luxury doesn’t need to stop at relief, that there’s something beyond the fixture. He was going to show you pure delight. 
“Let me show you why every second counts.”
97 notes · View notes
rubyreduji · 2 days ago
he was a skater boy - hvc
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title: he was a skater boy pairing: hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader genre: slice of life, slight angst, skater boy!vernon, best friend!vernon, high school!au w.c.: 3.6k summary: your skater boy best friend asks for your help to get with the head of the dance team a/n: reader is in their avril lavigne era. also we are ft this vernon for the first part LOL we lot debut vernon <3
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“CHWE!” At the sound of his name being called, Vernon turns around to see you riding up to him on your skateboard. When you get closer to him you stop your board and walk the rest of the way to meet him. “What did you need from me?”
Earlier today your best friend told you he needed to talk to you later and to meet him at The Place. The Place being the parking lot of the abandoned shopping strip that went out when the new pier was built.
“So as you know you’re my best friend,” he starts.
“Yes…? Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?” You ask deadpanned. Vernon sighs in fake frustration which makes you crack a grin, which makes him crack a grin.
“But seriously dude, you’re my best friend which means I should come to you with shit like this. So like, I kinda…have a crush on someone,” he admits. You try not to laugh at him. You fail. “Hey!”
“Sorry man, that’s just…not what I was expecting. You’re being all dramatic like you’re dying or some shit. So what? You have the hots for someone, why are you telling me? Unless you’re in love with me Nonie~” You tease him and he glares at you before shoving at your shoulder.
“C’mon be serious. I’m telling you because I need help.” 
“Oh? Little Chwe doesn’t have game so he needs Y/N’s superior help?” You smirk at him. He shoves you again.
“I just need some pointers. You date people all the time! Plus you’re friends with this person, so just wingman me,” Vernon says.
“May I remind you that the people I date don’t exactly work out. Besides, you’re a catch man, what do you need me for? Everyone I’m friends with are total losers. Including you.” You punch him in the arm.
“Yeah, yeah, but that’s why I need your help. I mean, how else am I going to get Vanessa to like me.” The name makes your smile drop. You stare at Vernon a little incredulously.
“There’s no fucking way you have a crush on Vanessa Jeffries.”
“I know, okay! But you gotta help me out here man.”
“Hansol.” You give him a pointed look.
“Gross, don’t call me that.” Vernon makes a scrunched up face to display his disgust. “I will literally do anything Y/N.”
“Ness and I aren’t friends anymore, you know this,” you huff annoyed.
Vanessa Jefferies. She lives in the house two doors down from yours and you guys grew up together. Before Vernon was your best friend, it was Vanesssa. That was until you started to get into skateboarding and pop punk music and she started to get into dance and student council.
Once high school hit it was easy for you guys to split apart, especially since her older sister drove her to school and you still had to take the bus (two months into freshman year you just started skateboarding to school). Not that you didn’t try to stay friends, but she was always too busy with new friends or clubs or whatever and at some point you just stopped trying as well. By the end of first semester of freshman year she had a whole new group of friends and a whole new style and even attitude. You on the other hand didn’t change much but that meant that you were still on the outskirts of the school hierarchy.
Then halfway through second semester Vernon moved to California from New York and you guys became fast friends over your shared love of skateboarding and cringey emo phases and it didn’t matter that Vanessa didn’t even look at you in the halls anymore because you had Vernon.
Now in senior year Vanessa is head of the dance squad, student body president, the founder of the conservation club, and on track to be class valedictorian. And you’re still riding to school on your skateboard listening to the same music you have been for four years. You can’t even remember the last time you talked to her, let alone had a conversation.
It’s a whole cliche, you know, and it annoys you to no end, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Vanessa isn’t going to suddenly show up at your doorstep begging to be friends again and you’re not going to change your personality just to fit in with her group of friends. You honestly were planning on spending the rest of high school ignoring her and her band of asshole followers without a second though.
But here’s your best friend asking you to help him score a date with the most popular girl in school and it’s Vernon so as much as you tease him you still have the biggest soft spot for him and can’t say no.
“Please Y/N?” He begs, eyes round and pleading.
You groan out loud and drag a hand down your face. “Fine. But you owe me so badly Chwe.” 
“He wants you to what?”
You groan. “He wants me to help him get with Ness.”
“Ha, good luck with that.” 
You’re laying on Josh’s bed as he sits at his desk working on his homework. Joshua Hong is the only other person you would consider a good friend outside of Vernon. He lives in the house diagonal from yours and he grew up with you and Vanessa. He was never as close to Vanessa as you were though, always being more of your friend than hers. Unlike either of you Joshua keeps a middle of the road popularity with most of his friends being kids from the theatre department.
As much as you love Vernon he’s a “out to have a good time” friend, whereas Joshua is a “talk until three am about your issues” friend.
“You aren’t really thinking about helping him are you? You’ve had the biggest crush on him since he moved to California, there’s no way you can help him get with your ex-best friend.”
“What else can I do Josh? He’s my best friend. I can't just not do anything.”
“I know, I know. Just…don’t hurt yourself, okay?”
“Aww is Joshie worried about me?”
“Nevermind break your own heart bitch.”
You’re about to retort back to Josh when the doorbell rings. His parents aren’t home so you and Joshua both make your way down the stairs. When he opens the door you swear the universe is playing tricks on you.
“Hey Joshua! Oh, hey Y/N.” The girl you were just discussing is standing there on Joshua’s front porch with a smile on her face. “Wow this is actually so fortunate you’re both here! As you know since we’re all seniors this year we have senior projects to do and I was wondering if you guys wanted to do ours together! I’m head of the conversation club and I was thinking of doing a neighborhood clean up and since you guys live here too we could all work on it together.”
Joshua is about to respond but you cut him off by shoving him to the side and taking his place in front of Vanessa. “Hey Ness, it’s been so long! As great as that sounds, Josh and I are already working on our senior projects together. But you know who still needs an idea and loves the planet? My friend Vernon. You should ask him.”
“Vernon,” Vanessa mutters like she’s trying to figure out who he is. “The brunet skater guy right?”
“Yep, that’s him! Chwe’s his last name, you can find him in the phone book. Thanks, bye!” With that you close the front door of the Hong residence and drop your fake smile.
“Y/N! Why did you do that?” Joshua hisses, rubbing his arm where you shoved him.
“Because I’m helping Vernon out! I wouldn’t have said yes anyways. Working with Vanessa to clean up the neighborhood? I’ll pass.”
“You don’t even want him to date Vanessa!” Joshua shouts.
“You’re right! Are you happy?” You snap back, then let out a deep sigh. “He wouldn't like me back anyways Shua, so I’m not going to risk our friendship over a stupid crush. If he wants Vanessa then Vanessa is what he’s going to get. I just want him happy, I’ll be okay.”
At your tone of voice and the use of the nickname Joshua doesn’t say anything more and you’re grateful for that, but you still see the way he can’t wipe the concerned look off his face.
“The skater guy? He’s weird Vanessa.” The grating shrill voice of Polly Brunham fills your ears as you walk past the girl’s bathroom during study hall. “You were already pushing it by asking Y/N L/N to help with your senior project.”
You roll your eyes at this. Of course Vanessa and her friends are gossiping about you and Vernon. This is the exact reason you were hesitant on helping Vernon out in the first place.
“Hey don’t talk about Y/N like that. As for Vernon, I talked to him earlier. He seems nice and really willing to help. He’s kinda cute too,” Vanessa giggles. You frown at this. Vanessa thinks Vernon is cute. Your dorky best friend who is in need of a haircut and only got his braces off a few months ago. 
“You’re joking with me, you have to be!” Another shrill voice. You then hear Vanessa laughing as well. Of course she’s joking.
“I’m just being nice okay. I’m student body president, I can’t just turn people down when they offer their help like that. Y/N seemed really insistent when I asked too, so let's just call it a favor to an old friend.” You roll your eyes before continuing to walk back to study hall.
The next time you see Vernon is at lunch and you’re about to tell him what you overheard in the bathroom but he barely stops at your table to talk to you.
“Y/N! You’re literally the best! Vanessa wants to eat lunch with me and talk about the senior project!”
“Listen Vern, Vanessa isn’t the type of person to-”
“Hey I have to go, but I’ll see you after school okay!” With that he rushes off. You watch him walk up to Vanessa’s table and the two walk into the courtyard. Your eyes land on Vanessa’s friends and the way they start to whisper the second Vernon leaves. 
You’ll tell him later.
You don’t tell him later.
You barely have five seconds alone with him anymore and he always looks so happy when you do talk to him that you don’t want to crush that. Not to mention that Vanessa always looks happy to be around Vernon, and not in the fake way, in the genuine way. 
Before you know it a whole month has passed and it seems that Vernon and Vanessa have become friends. They’re together most of the time which leads you to spending more time with Joshua who keeps sending you pitying looks every time you hang out.
“You have to tell him,” Joshua insists.
“No I don’t.”
“At least tell him to balance his time better! You guys went from seeing each other everyday to barely even speaking. It’s sad.”
“Stay out of it Joshua,” you growl.
“No! You’re killing yourself over here Y/N. Everyday since you told Vanessa to ask Vernon for help on the senior project you’ve been wallowing in this cloud of miserableness and I’m tired of it! Your happiness shouldn’t be sacrificed for Vernon’s,” Joshua tells you. This is what you love and hate about him. He’s also honest with you and tells you the exact thing you need to hear. He’s great at giving advice, it’s just you who’s bad at taking it.
“It’s fine. Things will go back to normal after they finish the senior project. They should be done soon anyways, have you not seen the posters Vanessa has been putting around the neighborhood?”
The neighborhood clean up she and Vernon are planning is set for the Saturday in two weeks. Your mom keeps talking about it and every time she does you either leave the room or put your earbuds in.
“Fine, but if things don’t get better after the clean up then you better do something.”
Vernon has asked you to hang out together today. The text takes you by surprise because you haven't heard for him in a while because he's "been busying planning the clean up". You don't think there can be that much planning going on. He's probably just trailing around Vanessa like the pathetic shadow he's been for the past five weeks.
He asks to meet up at your guys' favorite skate park which makes you forgive him a little bit. Deep down he's still Vernon, your stupid skater best friend who spends too much time trying to stick skills that just ends up with his hands being scraped up.
When you get there he's about to drop into the bowl. The park is fairly empty, but even if it wasn't Vernon is easy to spot with his colorful outfits and his tall figure.
You stop walking so you can stand and watch him do his trick. You can tell what trick he's trying to the second he drops in. It's the same one he's been trying to stick for months now. He picks up speed around the bowl before flying out, catching air, only to fly right back in, speeding up even more. He goes around the bowl before he catches his tail on the lip, riding around the rim.
You stare, anticipating the normal fall he always does when he gets to the final skill, but you watch at he grabs the lip of the bowl and kicks his feet up into the air for a few seconds before bringing them back down, sticking in the landing and riding out of the bowl.
Holy shit.
This is the first time he's ever been able to stick all three skills back to back. You can tell he's hyped off of adrenaline and you make haste to go congratulate him, just as stoked as he is.
That is until Vernon doesn't turn to you. He turns to the girl who's sitting on the bench excitedly clapping.
"Holy shit did you see that!" Vernon calls excited to her.
She giggles. "You're so cool. I would have fell the second I stepped foot on the skateboard."
Of course. Of fucking course.
You laugh to yourself a bit incredulously. Of course he brings Vanesssa here. Why did you expect that you would be able to get just one moment alone with your best friend? Why did you expect him to keep your guys' favorite hobby to just you and him?
You have half the mind to turn around and leave but Vernon finally catches sight of you.
"Y/N! Hey! You would never believe what I just did!"
"I uh saw," you say.
"Oh. Hey Y/N." Vanessa smiles at you.
"...Hey Ness...What are you doing here?"
"I invited her!" Vernon says happily. "She asked me to sat in on one of her dance rehearsals and I said it was only fair if she came with me to the skate park, so here we are."
Vernon...your Vernon...sat in on a dance team rehearsal.
You love Vernon, you want him to be happy, but not if it means this. Not if it means he's dropping his friends and doing things he doesn't enjoy just to be around Vanessa Jeffries.
Honestly if this is what he wants, you're not going to stop him. He can be happy, but you don't have to jeoprodize your happiness as well.
"Yeah, hey uh, I think Josh needed me for something so I have to go. I'll catch you later." You know its a lie but you don't really care. You don't even bother to listen to Vernon's response before you mount your board and skate away.
“Are you and Joshua dating?” You don’t even have a chance to take your earbuds out before Vernon is interrogating you.
“Excuse me?” He hasn’t talked to you properly in weeks (you are not counting the skate park incident) and now he’s demanding you to answer his question like nothing has happened.
“Are you and Joshua Hong dating?”
“That’s fucking disgusting Vernon. Why would I be dating Josh?”
“I don’t know. You’re around him all the time now and you guys look really comfortable.”
“Yeah that’s called fifteen years of friendship. Plus you’re around Vanessa all the time, even when you ask to hang out with me, so I don’t know what you want from me anymore. To sit around alone everyday waiting for you to finally text me back? Yeah right Hansol, you’re out of your mind.” His first name slips out, something that happens when you’re particularly upset with him. “I don’t care whatever crush you have on her, but don’t think I’m stupid enough to just sit around and wait for you. Just leave me be.” With that you grab your things and walk away from him and he’s too stunned to follow.
Your mom forces you to go to the neighborhood clean up. You’re in jeans and a t-shirt as you stand off to the side with Joshua. You glare over at where Vernon and Vanessa are standing, talking to some of the neighbors.
“He’s being an ass,” you say.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and fix things,” Joshua sighs.
“Why should I try when he isn’t?”
“Because things won’t get better if neither of you try!”
The rest of the day sucks. It’s hot as you go around trying to clean up trash and pull weeds. You stick close to Josh the whole time and barely even look at Vernon. You’re considering just leaving at one point but Joshua stops you because his conscience is too nice to leave but he doesn’t want to be left alone.
Finally after too many hours of working everything is done. You’re itching to go home and take a shower but you stop when you see Vernon and Vanessa standing and talking.
“Vanessa, I have something to tell you.”
“Yes Hansol?” You cringe. Vernon hates being called Hansol. It’s even worse since you guys became friends because now he associated it with you being mad at him.
“I like you. I have for a while and doing this project with you really solidified everything. I love being around you and I hope you feel the same way. Will you go on a date with me?”
“Oh Hansol,” you hate the pity in Vanessa’s voice, “I don’t like you like that. You’re a great kid and this project was really fun but you’re just not my type.”
“I’m really sorry.” With that Vanessa turns her back and walks away from Vernon.
You hate the dejected look on Vernon’s face. You hate the way you can see the pain in his eyes as he watches Vanessa leave. When she’s fully out of sight Vernon finally looks away and just happens to meet your eyes.
And just like that weeks of pain and distance don’t exist anymore. You’re walking to Vernon and wrapping him in your arms as he silently cries into your shoulder.
“Hey Vern?”
“What’s up?”
“How would you feel if I wrote a song about Vanessa Jeffries?”
Your boyfriend looks up from his desk top to stare at you. “What?”
You laugh a bit. “You remember senior year?” He nods. “What if I write a song about it? Something like, he was a skater boy, she said see you later boy.”
“That’s awful.”
“No it’s not!” You smack his shoulder. 
Senior year was a distant memory at this point. You and Vernon are now happily dating (even though it didn’t happen until sophomore year of college) and now you guys are both singer-songwriters while Vernon produces music as well.
“And what if Vanessa hears it?”
“Then she’ll know what a fat L she took when she turned you down,” you answer. “But it’s a good thing because now you are dating the coolest person on the planet.”
“I didn’t know I was dating Woozi from Seventeen. How lucky is that.”
“Haha,” you deadpan at your boyfriend’s K-Pop obsession. He just cracks a grin at you. “I’m going to write the best damn song ever and you’re going to see how it blows up. Just wait.”
“Sorry, girl, but you missed out. Well, tough, luck that boy's mine now. We are more than just good friends. This is how the story ends. Too bad that you couldn't see, see the man that boy could be. There is more that meets the eye, I see the soul that is inside.” You sing out. You can feel the sweat running down your forehead as the hot stadium lights shine down on you. “We are in love, haven't you heard, how we rock each other's world~”
Your fingers fly over the strings of your guitar skillfully as you smirk. Of course you proved your boyfriend wrong. You always write bangers. Your eyes flit over to the side of the stage where he’s standing there watching you, a smile playing at his own lips.
You look down into the audience and you swear you catch a familiar face, an almost knowing look plastered on said face.
“I'll be at a studio, singing the song we wrote, about a girl you used to know~” You finish. The audience erupts into applause and you smile and thank them before heading off stage.
“Phenomenal as always,” Vernon tells you the second you meet him.
“I know,” you smirk and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Did you see she was here tonight?”
“Vanessa Jeffries.”
“Holy shit.”
“Tell her hey when you go out,” you tell him. “I mean, she’s the whole reason this song is such a hit.”
“God you’re awful,” Vernon says.
“But you love me.” You lean forward to kiss Vernon. “And my awful song.”
“Yeah, I really do.”
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taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @enhacolor @brxzilianbaby @baldi-2 @moshiyuron @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee
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38 notes · View notes
kwanslvr · a day ago
jealousy | k.th
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genre: jealous tae, fluff, friends to lovers
warnings; none
pairings: taehyung x gn!reader
summary: hes jealous because he is kim taehyung 😭
you had came to hang out with your best friend, taehyung. youve known each other for the last 5 years. you love hanging out with him and his bandmates. it didn't help that you also might have developed a bit of a crush on him over the years.
besides the point, you came to their dorm to hang out with them and taehyung of course. you walked into their dorm house to find jin and jungkook bickering as usual, jhope, taehyung & jimin on the couch playing video games. yoongi was probably napping or writing up some cool lyrics. and namjoon was trying to stop the two from bickering.
no one seemed to notice that you walked in which to you, didn't bother you since majority of them were 'busy'. you sat next hobi putting your legs over his lap. hobi wasn't particularly bothered by your gestures since everytime you hung out with them you'd always cuddle with jhope.
taehyung on the other hand noticed you from the corner of his eye. when you started walking towards him hed thought you'd stop to ruffle his hair, just like how you'd usually do but this time you sat next to jhope and swung your legs over his lap.
this made him stop his game and pout.
"taehyung, why aint you playing ?" jimin said turning to him to see that he was glaring at jhope. jimin looked over and saw you were sat with hobi.
jimin chuckled before throwing a pillow at taehyung.
"are you going to play or you just gonna stare at that couple ?"
taehyung looked over at jimin before standing up and taking your hand.
which took you by surprise. he led you to his bedroom and made you sit on his bed. you looked at him confused.
"is everything okay ?" you asked. taehyung stood there with his arms crossed.
"tae-" before you could continue he opens his mouth to speak.
"i like you"
"i like you so much. i only just realised that i like you, maybe love you at this point" he blurts out. you suddenly burst out laughing. taehyung looks at you with wide eyes. did he say something wrong ?
you stood up off the bed, and lean towards him. he thought you were gonna kiss him but nah. you kissed his cheek and ran out of the room.
you couldn't believe he'd like you back but you hoped that was enough for him to take a hint that you liked him back..
(a/n: thank you so much for your support lately. i feel very loved lmao. again thank you)
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kmultismut · a day ago
"I know just the thing to wake you up."
DK finally came home from his MV shoot. You smiled as you saw his figure walk into the bedroom. You jumped on him and hugged him. He hugged you back and smiled while kissing your temple. "Hey, baby.", he said in the crook of your neck. "Hi, handsome.", you said and kissed him. "How was your day?", you asked as he started to walk towards the bed. "It was good. I'm a bit tired though.", he said as he put you down on the bed and laid on top of you. You fake gasped and said, "I know just the thing to wake you up." He smirked at your words, "Oh yeah?" "Mhm, works every time.", you said and kissed him. "And what might that be?", he smirked as he placed kisses on your collar bone. "This.", you said and lifted your hips up to press harder on his c*ck. He groaned and kissed you. You helped him take his clothes off and he helped you with your as well. He lowered himself to his knees as started licking your clit slowly. While you were distracted with his tongue, he reached for the drawer beside him and pulled out a vibrator. He placed the vibrator on your clit and before you knew it he entered you with his hard member. "Oh f*ck, DK!", you nearly screamed as he suddenly entered you. Your legs started to shake as he started moving his hips. "Shit, baby!", you moaned as he started massaging your breast with his free hand. You took his hand and placed two of his fingers into your mouth to suck on them. "You're so beautiful. So good to me.", he praised you as he removed his fingers from your mouth. He took away the vibrator and started circling your clit with his wet fingers. "Come on, baby. Make those pretty sounds for me." You moaned his name as you came around him. "There it is. Good girl." He continued thrusting into you before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.
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mode-lfy · a day ago
Secret Friend
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Liz x Male reader
"Okay, now. Try to let go of the railing and then walk off. I will catch if you fall down." The nurse said.
Y/n bit his lower lips and arched his eyebrows as he slowly let go of the support railings and slowly walks on his own.
He fell down almost immediately. The nurse and his family members quickly try to help him up. Y/n put up his hand and refused any help from anyone. He held on to the support railings and gradually pulled himself up.
Slowly, he gathered all his strength to pull himself up and stand up. He took a deep breath in and out, and then let go of the support railings. 
He finally was walking on his own!
The nurse congratulated him and clapped. His mother shed tears of joy and hugged him. Y/n smiled and laughed after seeing himself finally standing up.
"Your legs might still be weak since it's not used to walking much often. So make sure to take a rest and walk when you feel like your legs are weak." The doctor said, looking at his reports.
The doctor then thought for awhile and looked at him. "I recommend you continue using the wheelchair until your legs have fully rehabilitated. Meanwhile continue to train your leg muscles. That's all, come back in a month and we will look at your leg's condition."
Y/n and his parents thanked the doctor and they left the hospital.
"To celebrate you finally being able to walk on your own. Me and your mom will go and buy your favourite fried chicken for you!" His father said.
Y/n cheered. As his parents went to buy the friend chicken, he decided to go around the streets slowly. It's been long time since he's been out of the house, he thought.
Y/n held on to his wheelchair and slowly walked around. "Walking had never felt so nice." He smiled, in thoughts. He tried standing up for awhile before feeling his legs straining and sat down on the wheelchair heavily.
Suddenly, his phone received a call. Curious, he decided to answer it, in case it was someone he knew.
As soon as he answered the call, he heard a voice of a girl crying and saying, "Mom!!! I don't think I can continue doing this... I feel like giving up." The girl continued crying for awhile until Y/n said, "I'm sorry but I think you got the wrong number."
There was an awkward silence and then the voice of the girl replied, "I'm sorry." And then the call was hung up.
Y/n was surprised by this happening, the girl seems to be going through a rough time and was looking for some words of comfort or encouragement from her mom.
He then send a text message to that number,
'Hey, it seems like you are going through something difficult right now and needed someone to talk to.'
'Don't give up on whatever you are doing! Persevere and things will go well soon. :)'
He added a smiley face, hoping that it will make him seem friendly. A read sign appeared under the message sent.
Soon, the girl replied.
Unknown: 'Thank you.'
Y/n: 'No problem! I had some problems with walking recently and today I managed to walk without support for the first time today. So if I can do it. You can too!'
Y/n put his phone down into his pocket before lying back on his wheelchair and was happy he had helped to motivate someone.
He was smiling to himself when his parents came back from buying the fried chicken.
"Why are you smiling?" His mom asked.
"Nothing, I just feel happy today." He replied, still smiling. Happy that he had helped to motivate someone else and the fact that he is able to walk on his own today.
At night, he laid on his bed and was watching YouTube when he thought of that same girl. Y/n messaged the number again.
Y/n: 'Hey how are you doing now?'
Unknown: 'I am okay. Thanks for the motivational message that you sent me earlier.'
Y/n: 'No problem. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here.'
Unknown: 'Thank you'
Y/n was happy that he had helped someone, he hoped to go back to school after the holidays ended and hopefully by then, he would be able to walk fully on his own and completely remove any reliance on the wheelchair.
As the days go past, Y/n have returned to school and his legs have recovered fully. He have been talking to the unknown girl too, being friends with her and giving her motivation when she needs it.
One day, he graduated from high school and was extremely happy about it. Talking about it to all his family and the secret friend unknown girl too.
The girl then send a clip of her singing a congratulatory song to him.
Unknown: Happy graduation day! Here is something as a gift for you. Hope it's okay and you like it.
Unknown: Congratulations.mp3
Y/n: Thank you! Let me hear it.
Y/n: Wow! You can sing very well! By any chance.... When you wanted to give up and called me by accident, was it about singing?
Unknown: Yeah...
Y/n: Well... See, you can do it! Not giving up was the right decision! By any chance, are you a trainee or aspiring to be a singer?
Unknown: Well, I'm actually a trainee but Im not telling you any more details.
Y/n: Oh it's ok.
Soon, Y/n entered into a university and started studying. Working part time at a nearby convenience store near his school during the holidays or weekends when he has free time.
A new girl group debut soon and it was IVE. Even during the promotion teasers, he was talking about it to the secret friend.
Unknown: You are excited for IVE to debut?
Y/n: Yeah! I think I like that group already! The members all look so pretty and cute.
Unknown: Ohhh.... Do you like any of them in particular yet?
Y/n: Well... All the members look like nice people.
Unknown: Then what do you think of Liz?
Y/n: She looks cute and is very pretty from what I see in the promotion video.
Unknown: Ahh, for me. I like Liz the most.
Over the next few weeks, Y/n have been keeping up on IVE and even realised that the place where he works at is nearby StarShip Entertainment place.
Y/n: Omg! I discovered that right around the corner of the street of the 7-eleven where I work  at, that's the location of StarShip Entertainment office!!!
Unknown: really?? Maybe now you can get to see some of the IVE members in person.
Y/n: Yes!!! Hopefully... I haven't got a chance yet though.
Unknown: Maybe tomorrow is the day!
The next day, Y/n was working in the convenience store normally at night. When some girls walked in and wearing masks, looking at the items in the store while sometimes taking a peek at Y/n who was the only staff at the time and swiping the floor and arranging the items neatly on the shelves.
The girls brought some items to the counter and Y/n quickly came over to the cashier counter and scan the bar code for the items. As one of the girls was taking out some cash from her wallet, Y/n realised it was...
"Oh my god! Are you guys IVE!?!?" Y/n asked in surprised, mouth wide opened.
"Yes.... We were craving some snacks. So we decided to go come here and buy some." Yujin said as she handed the money to him.
Y/n nodded and started packing the snacks into a bag for them. While he was busy packing, the members all looked at and nudged Liz.
As Y/n handed over the bag of snacks to Yujin, they all turn around to walk over before Y/n called for them.
"Wait!!!" He shouted
They looked back at him, wondering what's wrong.
"Well ugh, can I get an autograph please?" Y/n asked, holding his hands together.
"Sure!" They replied.
Y/n quickly entered the staff room and scrambled for a paper and a marker. He quickly found a bunch of paper and took one along with a marker.
He quickly came out and put the paper down for them to sign. As the members took turns to sign the paper, Y/n's heart was beating fast as he was extremely happy to have met IVE in person and getting their signature.
"Goodbye!" The members waved at him as Y/n waved back happily at them.
Y/n: You wouldn't believe me! I got to see IVE today and asked for their signature!
Unknown: See? I told you that you might get to see them today!
Y/n: You are right! I was so happy to get their signature and meeting them in life!
Unknown: I know!!! You looked so funny when you actually asked if it was IVE and you opened your mouth wide.
Y/n: wait... how did you know?
Unknown: What?
Y/n: Were you there?
Unknown: Well actually, I have a friend in IVE and she told me about the encounter with a guy in the 7-eleven store near their company office. So I'm guessing that's you.
Y/n: Wow! Who's your friend in IVE?
Unknown: (doesn't reply for awhile)
Unknown: Well I'm good friends with Rei and I'm extremely close to Liz!
Y/n: Oh wow! It's cool to be friends with an idol.
Unknown: Well, I guess so.
Next week, after Y/n's exams are over, he was worried that he might not pass one of the exams and ended up failing the subject.
It takes a week for the results to be released and meanwhile at the same time, Y/n was kept worried about it.
Despite the unknown girl trying to talk to him and ask him about his problems, he didn't say about it.
While he was working at night and there were no customers, Y/n felt hungry and decided to take a cup noodle and eat it.
Meanwhile he received a message as he is eating.
Unknown: Hi!
Y/n: hi
Unknown: Are you working now?
Y/n: Yeah
Unknown: well, are you busy now? Maybe you can talk about things that are bothering you.
Y/n: Actually it's just school stuff, I'm just worried about an exam. Don't worry about me.
Unknown: maybe I can help to talk and make you feel better?
Y/n: It's ok... Oh there are customers here. I gotta go now. Bye
Unknown: Bye
Then Y/n puts down his phone and continue eating his noodles slowly while poking at his noodles from time to time.
At the same time, someone is outside looking at him sneakily.
Soon, that person entered the 7-eleven store.
"Welcome to 7-eleven" Y/n greeted the person, bowing down and then continuing to finish his noodles.
While the person looked around at the store, Y/n had finished his noodles and thrown away the packaging at the rubbish bin.
As the person comes to the cashier and makes some purchases for some snacks and chocolate bars.
Y/n scan the bar and takes the money from the person and realised it is Liz!!!
"Oh my god! You are Liz!" Y/n widened his eyes and his mouth was in an small "O" shape.
Liz smiled and giggled at his reaction.
"Yes!" She smiled and greeted him.
As Y/n hands her the receipt, Liz handed him a chocolate snack and asks him if he want to take a photo together.
"Yes! I would love to take a photo!" Y/n excitedly say. Both of them then posed for a selfie together, using his phone and her phone to take one photo each.
"Wow, thanks. I have been unhappy recently. And this really cheered me up." Y/n said after taking the photo.
"I heard someone I know is a good friend of yours?" Y/n asked.
"Huh?" Liz was flustered.
"Oh yes! Uhm her name is Won-Ji." Liz added.
"Oh so that's her name..."
"I tried asking for her name and she didn't want to give at the time." Y/n said.
"Well goodbye then," Liz said.
"Bye!" Y/n waved at her, smiling.
Y/n then look at the chocolate snack that he received.
'Stay happy and smiling :)'
18 notes · View notes
soft4gguk · 2 months ago
just a little... | jjk drabble
Tumblr media
Description: jungkook x reader, best friends to lovers? fwb??
Content: mostly porn, but a little plot :) 18+
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: loads of making out, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, lots of dirty talking, spit kink?, aftercare
Author’s Note: shout out to jungkook and his competitive nature because this was totally based on the fact that he’s been diligently playing in the seom for days now and jumping levels like it’s easy <3 he’s so hot for that x
★ masterlist ★
This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x
just a little…
“Okay, that’s enough.” 
“Jungkook,” you whine, eyes still glued to the screen, fingers not faltering once.
“You’ve been stuck on that level for five minutes now,” he whines back. “I don’t want Namjoon to catch up with me. Or worse – pass me.”
You roll your eyes, indifferent as you focus on the game. “You’re such a child.”
Those two seconds of distraction to voice your snarky remark put him at an advantage, snatching the phone from your grasp as he succeeds and gives a little noise of triumph. You snarl at him in half shock, half annoyance. You can’t believe him, he’s been so serious about this mobile game it’s pretty much taken all of his weekend, sleep and let’s not even mention his bank account. He’d cancelled on you and your friends on Friday night, though you didn’t push him, not a fan of crowded clubs with shitty music yourself. But then he’d cancelled brunch on you for Saturday, and so this is where your Sunday night found you. On a supposed movie night with your best friend, that so far has consisted on eating all the snacks you’d gathered for the scary movie of your choice and trying to beat level 100-and-something of this godforsaken game. 
“Hah, cleared it. God, what took you so long?”
“Asshole, give it to me,” you reach for the phone yet again but he turns his body to you, keeping his phone at a distance. Okay, maybe you do get the obsession with it.
“Come on, it’s my turn! You do one, I do one, remember?” Your voice mocks innocence, giving him a slight pout.
“That’s not gonna work on me this time. This is serious business.” 
“Fine. Let’s tussle then.”
You all but jump him, arms stretched out trying to snatch the phone away from the vice like grip he has on it, fingers reaching out but it’s to no avail because his free arm blocks you from getting too far. You groan and whine, and even try to tickle him, and when all of these deem unsuccessful, you follow your competitive instinct, using your whole body as you try to get closer to him. You don’t necessarily know how it happens, but suddenly you’re wound up on his lap, legs at either side of him as you straddle him, hands reaching upwards as he stretches his arms above his head, phone yet again out of your reach. 
“Give it,” you jump, “to me!” and with one last attempt, his phone is in your possession before you’re landing back on his lap rather abruptly, making him let out a grunt. Before he can even muster strength to fight back, you put a hand in front of his face, raising a brow as you say, “easy. Don’t even dare. I’ll just win one way or the other.”
And he doesn’t fight back. Mostly because as competitive as he is, he likes a clean game, and partially because he’s trying to shut down every nerve of his body you’ve just awoken the moment you fell onto his lap. He simply raises his hands in defeat and this makes you smile, giving a little celebratory dance that his dick very much appreciates. His moral? Not so much. Keep it together, he begs, though he doesn’t know who to address – you, him, or his brain who seems to be rapidly descending south.
“Fuck- whoever made this level must be a sadist.” Your contemplations receive no feedback, the room suddenly quiet after your previous ruckus but you don’t give it much thought, fully focused on the task at hand – literally. 
Jungkook just observes you. He sees the way your face falls into deep concentration, a small frown taking over your features, wrinkling your forehead slightly as your eyes squint. Your eyes dance around the screen as they try to keep up with your fingers. It’s all cute to his eyes, but that’s no ground-breaking news to him, no. He’s well aware you’re cute – matter of fact, he tells you it all the time. You’re cute and smart, and so very pretty and it’s hard for it to go unnoticed, so yeah, he’s aware. What hits him like a glorious epiphany – heavenly choir and all – is that you’re also hot. Your lips are plump and cherry red, like you’ve been kissed for hours, and when your bottom one gets caught between your teeth, he has to close his eyes to try and compose himself and the thousands of inappropriate thoughts that swarm his head. 
You’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake. The girl that sat next to him in the cafeteria on his first day of freshman year when college felt way too intimidating and your kindness seemed fake at first. You liked him even though he was an awkward and quiet kid, and you didn’t stop even when he grew into his confidence and became an obnoxious sophomore, fuck boy title well-worn and all. Now you’re both juniors and you still like him, could very well say you love him, even though he’s seemed to have combined the two – awkward and quiet and at times a fuck boy, shitty at texting back and prone to cancelling plans if he so happens to hyper fixate on silly things like mobile games and decorating islands for the little round characters on his screen. 
So, he urges – no, begs his mind and body to keep it together. I mean, it’s not like you guys haven’t been physically close before. He’s pretty sure your love language is physical touch, and as for him? well, he’s just easy like that, giving in every time, being your designated little spoon and allowing his head to fall to your lap during movie nights, letting your hands run through his hair. It feels nice and warm, but it’s always been friendly. So, you being perched on top of him shouldn’t be sending him into a frenzy, but alas. 
You snap him back into reality, catching him off guard when you’re letting out a big celebratory squeal as you clear the level. Your body engages in said celebration, specifically your hips, right against his crotch, much to Jungkook’s despair – or luck, he doesn’t even know at this point.
 “Fuck,” he says before he can stop himself, hands coming down to hold firmly onto your hips to halt your movements. 
You’re confused at first, finding his eyes with yours and realizing he’s just as puzzled, yet something else lingers in his dark ones. It takes a minute, but then it clicks – he’s not giving much away, gaze still in yours, seemingly clueless as to what just happened but you feel it. You feel it in the air around you that suddenly grows tense, and you most certainly feel it in the way his erection presses against your inner thigh, increasingly noticeable by the second. 
You don’t know what to say, so you go by instinct, and instinct has you giving a subtle roll to your hips, eyes still locked on his so intensely you don’t miss the way his threaten to flutter closed the moment he feels you. His grip on your hips tightens and you do it again, a bit more determined this time, granting you friction as well. You’re wearing leggings, the thin material doing wonders as it molds perfectly against his jeans, and the feeling has you drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the flesh to suppress a moan. 
Jungkook’s brain is static noise and you. The way you look, the way you feel – fuck, you haven’t even touched him yet, hands still glued to his damn phone like you’re not driving him to insanity right now. The soft material of your leggings has him wondering how the soft of your skin would feel in his hands, and he wants to touch you so badly, but he has no idea what the two of you are doing right now. 
You don’t let him ponder on it for too long, because before he can plant the seed of a thought, you’re kissing him.
Phone discarded and long forgotten, you lean into him, hands on his shoulders as you bring your lips to his. It’s soft, a mere peck as if you were testing the waters, something innocent lacing your actions and he melts, letting his pink mouth form a little pout as he kisses you back. You keep it short and sweet, pulling away slightly and letting your lips follow with a bit more hesitancy. Nose still touching his, you let out a giggle. 
“What are you doing,” he asks, lips slightly pouty still, like they’re betraying him.
“Just kissing you a little…” he can feel your minty breath on him when you say this.
He chuckles, but it’s soft. “Is this what we do now?”
He looks up at you, those big eyes of his that are always so starry bright boring into you and the answer is yes,
“This is what we do now.”
“Okay,” it’s a whisper, the word getting lost in the way your lips mold together, soft but passionate now that it’s been decided that you’re doing this – you’re kissing, just a little. 
There’s no argument in the world that could convince Jungkook to pull away from your giving lips, from the way your body draws closer to his, hand draping around his nape as your nails scrape through the soft skin there. His tongue glides across your bottom lip, biting it some before you’re opening up for him, granting him access. Your hips circle slowly, tentatively, as your tongues mimic the movement and he groans against your mouth, pleasure settling into him quick like wildfire, and burning too. 
His hands that had been obediently placed at your hips free themselves from his mental restraint and make their way to your ass, fingers stretching over your cheeks before he’s giving a harsh squeeze, making you mewl. You bring him closer with fervour, kiss him harder, encourage him to touch you further because that’s all that you want. You crave him so vehemently that there’s not an ounce of questioning behind your actions – just need. 
Your hips pick up pace with the aid of his hands on your ass and Jungkook’s cock throbs inside the tight constraint of his jeans, you feel so good – layers and all – and it has him parting from your lips as his head falls to the back of the couch. The moan he lets out is like music to your ears and soon after you’re attaching your lips to the exposed skin at his neck, right above that mole you love so much. You always poke it, a you’re cute most likely following the action because he was, and you liked to let him know, because it only made him cuter. 
What can you say? You’re weak. You’re so weak it clouds your judgement as you lick at the warm skin, puckering your lips before sucking, painting little purple blossoms in his pretty honey skin, all the way to his jaw.  
Your hips don’t lose their pace, growing more impatiently the more your need for him turns physical. The outline of his cock so prominent against your clothed slit, your clit throbs with each movement he guides and it feels so good, but it’s not nearly enough as you grow uncomfortably wet between your legs. 
It’s overwhelming – the way you move on top of him, the way you sound, and fuck, the way you look. So fucked out already and he hasn’t even done half the things he wants to do to you. Eyes glassy and lips ten shades of red and plump like ripe fruit, it’s no wonder that the minute he reconnects his lips with yours, his tummy tightens as the pleasure threatens to tip him over the edge. 
He panics, hands coming to your waist to gently stall your movements and push you away, reluctantly. He has no doubt that another minute of your little dry humping session will have him blowing his load in his pants like a horny teenager. 
“Shit- wait,” he pants, eyes closed but he can feel you pout against his lips, displeased.
“Why?” You kiss down his jaw again, and he subconsciously cocks his head to the side, granting you permission to kiss on top of the hickeys you’d left minutes prior. 
“Felt like I was gonna cum,” he huffs, moaning softly when you run your tongue all the way to his earlobe, letting your teeth play with it gently. 
You giggle and the vibrations against his skin sends shivers down his spine. 
“Yeah? Don’t you wanna?” he can barely pay attention to what you’re asking, teeth nibbling at his most sensitive spots. 
“No- yes. Fuck, yes.”
Another sweet giggle passes your lips and he cusses himself over how not-so-innocently it affects him. “Then let me make you cum.”
He’s never heard you be so crass, had never even discussed topics like the one you two were very much involved in right now – with each other. You’d always kept the tales of your hook ups vague, a simple nod from across the bar to make sure you were both safe and light teasing when the night was followed by hungover brunch and the walk of shame here and there. But now here he had you, dirty talking him. He was about to lose his damn mind. 
“Should we be doing this?” 
“Should we not? Am I making you uncomfortable?” Your question has softness attached to it, and when you look into his eyes, hands massaging his shoulders, he sees his best friend, just genuine and sweet. 
“No. Far from, actually.” His hands travel back to your hips, hands sneaking inside your oversized sweater.
“Hm,” you smile, “then just…,” he kisses you before you can finish your sentence. “Yeah that. Just do that.”
Your kisses grow hotter by the second, charged with need as you allow yourselves to give into it entirely and it’s not much after that Jungkook’s grabbing a hold of your waist and laying you down on the couch. You smile up at him in that way he’d only gotten to see today, seductive and so very enticing he almost misses the way your hands trail down your body before they’re pulling your sweater off of you. Your bra’s a pretty lacy purple that leaves very little to the imagination, a silver bar peeking through the material.
“Oh?” He says, tone playful but you can tell he’s genuinely shocked.
“Do you like it?” You ask, hand cupping your breast and pushing the cup of your bra down to reveal the shiny piece of jewellery.
“Fuck, I love it.”
He kisses down your neck, tongue licking at your collarbones until his lips touch the soft skin of your breasts, sucking, making sure he returns the favour of that little number he’s sure you left all over his neck. Your fingers get lost in his dark hair, tugging at it the moment his mouth closes around your perk nipple, his tongue playing with the piercing, setting your every nerve ending on fire. You hiss, feeling overstimulated already and his mouth travels to your other nipple, kissing gently before he’s letting his lips glide across the supple flesh. You whimper when the silver hoop at the corner of his mouth touches you, the cold sensation surprising you as you choke out a moan. 
“Can I take these off,” he asks as his index finger hooks inside the waistband of your leggings, gliding teasingly over your skin. 
“Please,” it’s a whine, a desperate little sound that has his dick twitching in his pants.
“Fuck- don’t beg, baby.” He pleads, already walking close enough to the edge as it is just for you to quite literally turn into his every wet dream and further throw him off it.
“Don’t call me baby, then.” You tease, hips raising so he can pull the tight material off your legs. 
He smirks, so devastatingly it has you clenching around nothing, a wave of arousal taking over you that there’s no doubt that your underwear is ruined by now. 
“Why’s that? You like it a little too much?” He stands between your legs, lowering his body until his lips are hovering above yours.
“Just a little,” you capture his bottom lip in between yours, letting the softness linger in there.
“Just a little? The same way you were gonna kiss me just a little, hm?” He deepens the kiss, not a single pause as he dives straight in for passion, making you moan against his lips. It’s all that you can feel – his lips on yours, so much so that the gasp that leaves you is one of surprise when his digits find your clothed clit, circling around it deliciously slow. 
“Fuck yes, that feels so good.”
“Wanna eat you out.”
“Just a little?”
“No. A lot actually, want you to cum all over my tongue.”
You moan, arching your back at his filthy words, another please leaving your lips as your nails scrape against his scalp in raw desperation. He’s in between your legs in a matter of seconds, big hands pushing your thighs apart as his hot breath hits your clothed cunt. You circle your hips at his proximity, silently pleading for more. His arm circles around your leg until his hand rests on top of your tummy, pushing into it slightly to keep you still; the pressure feels so good you can feel a new stream of arousal gushing out of you. 
He doesn’t make you wait – he doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to, your scent alone intoxicating him to the point of hunger. He hooks his fingers inside your thong, pushing the flimsy material to the side until you’re revealed to him. His middle finger glides through your slit, parting your folds until your clit comes into view, so pretty and inviting it has his mouth watering at the thought of having a taste of you. 
“Shit, you’re so wet,” he says, teasing your opening as he collects your slick before circling it around your sensitive nub. You whimper at the feeling, eyes closing and fingers running through his soft hair, letting your body tell him how good you feel. 
He gives a tentative lick, letting the thick of his tongue part your folds, licking you clean before his mouth is closing around your clit, making a mess of you all over again. Your lips part in a silent moan, basking in the pleasure his mouth provides. It’s overwhelmingly good, has your mind spiralling as your body asks for more. 
He teases your opening with his tongue, fucking you with it and drinking your juices in – you taste so sweet it has him groaning against your cunt, rutting his hips into the sofa in need of friction. His fingers push past your tight walls, curling at your insides until he’s met with that spot that has your legs instantly shaking. You look down at him, picking up the smile that forms at his face in pride with the way his eyes get all puffy. He looks almost innocent like this, and you’d buy it if it weren’t for the lewd sounds that fill the room as he fucks his fingers into your wet cunt, slurping sounds coming from his lips as he licks and sucks at your clit, finding the perfect rhythm.  
“You taste so good, could eat you out forever,” he breathes against your pussy, the vibrations inching you closer to your high.
“Yeah fuck, don’t stop, Kook. Don’t stop,” it’s a breathless moan, whimpers leaving your mouth as your body grows tense, the tell-tale signs of your orgasm taking over every inch of your body and he begins to read you, not wanting to miss a single detail about the way you’re coming undone for him, because of him. 
His fingers stay inside of you, massaging your spongey wall and giving it their undivided attention. You’re crying out in pleasure, pushing his bangs away from his face as your gaze finds his, your pretty eyes widening in shock the more he throws you over the edge. 
The tip of his tongue circles your clit slowly, so softly it’s barely there, contrasting with the force his fingers are working with inside of you. It feels so good, your focus dancing from one feeling to the other until the coil inside of you breaks and you’re throwing your body back against the couch, letting it all consume you. 
“I’m c-cumming,” it’s a whisper that barely leaves you, body shaking in pleasure, eyes closing as you bite your lip so hard you can taste blood. 
He hums, sending flutters down your tummy at the feel of it, mewling when his tongue doesn’t stop its ministrations, licking you clean, eyes on you as his fingers follow the same fate. 
“Fuck you’re so sweet,” he says, tasting your arousal one last time. 
“You’re good at that, Jesus Christ.”
He chuckles. “I’m good at a lot of things.”
“That so?” He nods, traveling up your body to capture your lips in his yet again. “Show me then.”
He kisses you deeply, lips only parting to allow you to yank his shirt off his body, allowing for you to run your hands all over him. He feels warm to the touch, the hard ridges of his toned body contrasting with the baby soft of his skin. You could touch him all day, feel the way he hisses into your mouth when your thumb grazes his nipple on its way down, tracing down his abs, feeling the way his tummy tenses at your touch in anticipation. You waste no time, eager hands palming at his cock through his jeans. 
“Are you sure?” He looks at you, laughing softly at the string of saliva that connects you two for a second too long. 
“Jungkook, you not fucking me right now could be what ruins our friendship. I need you so bad, I’m so serious.”
He laughs at this, shaking his head; he wants to tell you off for it, but he can’t find it in him. It still shocks him a little how you can be so casual about all of this. Nonetheless, his hands are making quick work of undoing the button of his jeans, letting your nimble fingers push down the zipper. He pushes himself free from the uncomfortable fabric, boxers joining, letting them slide down his legs. He sighs out in pleasure as his hard cock finally breathes.
All you can do is gawk at him – his length, his girth, the pretty vein that runs from base to tip. Jungkook has the prettiest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure to see and it makes your mouth water, pussy clenching at the mere thought of the delicious burn taking him all will set inside of you. 
“You’re so big,” you speak your mind, unabashedly.
“You can take me, baby.”
Fuck yeah you can, and you will. 
His hand reaches out for yours and you take it, letting him help you up from the couch and guide you towards his bedroom. You’ve made this journey a million times, but never has it felt this exciting. The lights in his room are dim, the soft blue and purple hues coming from his gaming set up illuminating it prettily. 
Your bra comes off first, thong following its same fate soon after. You let yourself fall on top of his bed and he chuckles as you make yourself comfortable, being awfully used to the sight of you clogging the middle of the bed and getting cozy against his pillows, only this time you’re naked. Gloriously so, might he add. 
He gets a condom from his bedside table before his knees hits the mattress, making his way to you and settling between your legs as you open them up for him. 
“How do you like it,” he asks, sitting on his haunches as he massages your thighs. 
You look up at him, giggling as his soft touch tickles your skin. “I want you on top.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you kick him lightly with your feet. 
“Missionary, a classic. I like that.”
“Don’t call it that,” you whine, hands coming up to cover your face.
“Why?” He laughs.
“Makes me sound boring.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re far from.”
You give him that smile – your smile, and he melts. His body melts, too, falling on top of yours as he kisses you, the both of you laughing though you can’t tell why. He pulls away, only a little, bringing the little foil square between his teeth and ripping it open. You take it from him and grab a hold of the condom as he makes some distance between your bodies to let you glide it over his throbbing length. Even the slight contact from the act has him growing feral with desire.
“God, I need to fuck you now.”
“Fuck me now, Jungkook, please.”
His tip prods at your opening, the burn almost immediate as your walls stretch for him, face contorting slightly in both pain and pleasure as he pushes in, leaving tender kisses at the corner of your mouth, your cheeks, your temples, as he hisses in pleasure. He tries to pace himself, go as slow as he can as to not hurt you, the feeling of your warm pussy so tightly wrapped around his cock one he can see himself getting addicted to.
“Shit baby, you’re so tight around me,” he says, bottoming out, head falling down the crook of your neck. He stills, kissing at your warm skin, fingers running soothing circles over your hips. 
“You can move… want you to fuck me, Kook.”
He looks into your eyes for any sign of hesitation but all he gets is lust, angling his hips back before he’s thrusting back in – hard. You gasp for air, a breathless moan leaving your lips as he rocks into you at a delicious pace. You feel so full, so supple under whatever spell he put on you when he let you kiss him, just a little. 
And now he’s fucking you, hard and deep, sweaty bangs framing his beautiful face as his eyes fight a battle to stay open, mind too stubborn on not letting pleasure win because he wants to see you. He wants to see what he does to you painted all over your face, laced in every single moan and whimper that leaves your mouth, latched onto every tug at his hair and nip at his skin. He wants it all – he wants you all.
“Shit- you feel so good,” he pants, hands at either side of your head against the mattress, pretty red bitten lips parted in pleasure as the clenching of your walls have his tummy tensing, the vice like grip you have on him addicting, just like all of you. 
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sob, hand coming to push at the headboard to keep your head from hitting against it at the force of his hips. “I could get used to this.”
You voice out his thoughts, and there’s something about how bold you are about it that turns him on beyond means, makes him lose his mind and throw the last bit of rationality out the window. 
“You could- we could,” your pussy clenches around him, legs wrapping around his waist. “Fuck baby please stop doing that or I won’t last long.” 
“I c-can’t. I’m so close, Jungkook.” You cry, glassy eyes looking up at him. 
You see the way his jaw locks, rearing up spit before he’s sitting back a little, letting a glob of saliva fall from his mouth right onto your mound, thumb gliding over your clit easily with the added lubrication. The dirty act sends the slow build-up of your climax into rapid fire, spreading through your body deliciously as he toys with your clit. Seconds after, he’s sending you right over the edge, pulling a second orgasm out of you and all you can do is shake and wail under him, your pussy massaging his cock with every clench of your walls. 
“Nnngh- I’m gonna cum, fuck,” he lets out in between moans, hips stuttering a bit as he spills into the condom, the warm spasms of your walls milking him until he’s left hissing and cringing slightly in overstimulation. 
You both just stay there for a minute, catching your breaths and trying to come back to your bodies. Jungkook smiles at you, pulling out of you a little reluctantly before he’s making his way to the bathroom to discard the condom. 
When he comes back, he’s holding a towel, running it softly between your thighs – it’s wet and warm and feels soothing against your core. You blush a little, smiling at him and thanking him. He simply returns your smile, throwing the towel somewhere on his floor and throwing himself next to you on the bed, head cozying up into his pillows.
“So…,” you start.
“So…,” he mimics.
You both start laughing, unable to stand the tension that threatens to fall upon you, you simply do what you do best – laugh it out. It’s comforting, and feels good knowing that a little exchange of pleasure didn’t totally break your common sense. 
“We just fucked,” you say.
“God, don’t make it sound so crass.”
You laugh at this. “Sorry, kind sir, we just engaged in sexual relations.”
“Much better.” His laugh follows.
“Do you think we’ll do it again?” Your question is sincere, albeit a little awkward. 
“Don’t ask me that right now, I’m pretty sure my dick is still hard.”
You look down at it, wanting to see it for yourself, and surely enough, you’re met with confirmation to his suspicions. 
“Well, I liked it,” you say, plopping back into the pillows, eyes fluttering slowly as sleepiness begins to fall over you. 
“Me too…” he stares at the ceiling, exhaustion settling upon him, too.
“So, if you ever wanna… we can always… just kiss a little.”
Jungkook’s face grows angelic as he falls asleep, a smile on his lips that he’s pretty sure is still there when he wakes you up late into the night, in hopes that you want to kiss him a little, too. 
I hope u enjoyed! if you did, please do let me know <33 also, stream more, left & right and proof!! okay love u loads xx
buy me a coffee here, if u want (っ˘ڡ˘ς)☕️
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yeonjuns-beanie · 3 months ago
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warnings: unprotected sex(i literally write nothing else unless asked otherwise), feral chan, oral(f receiving), breeding kink cuz im gross, slight impreg kink for the same reason, overstimulation, mind breaking (kinda mutal), slapping(once and chan receives it), desperate overall kinda sex, squirting, mention of the title daddy once, few pet names, lots of filth pretty much, reader refers to him as ‘chris’ in speech
summary: schedule has been crazy and chan hasn’t been able to see you as much as he’d like to. it’s starting to get to him. all that changes when he decides to leave practice early and finds you in the dorm parading around in just his t-shirt.
chan x female reader
word count: 6.3k (i got carried away)
Chan was exhausted. For more reasons than one. Schedules were rolling into one another with no real sign of stopping. Practices seemed to last longer than usual, dragging to a point where he could feel every second ticking by. His internal thought was wracked with melodies, lyrics, and rhythms bouncing off the walls of his skull leaving him with no semblance of peace. To complete the myriad of his stress masterpiece, he was missing you. 
It was nearing three weeks of minimal contact with you and he was beginning to feel guilty in addition to everything else he was feeling. Every moment he had a chance to glance at his phone, it would be ripped from him just as quickly—the text that he was typing dying at his fingertips. 
You understood what you were agreeing to when you decided to not only let Chan into your life but to let him in as your partner. You didn’t mind these long stretches of time where you didn’t get to see him. In fact, you almost preferred it. Allowing you to really indulge in the time you got to spend with him with nary an interruption. No matter how many times you reminded him of this, it still ate away at his emotions. Making him feel like this was yet another area in his life where he felt his promises were not being fulfilled, ultimately making him feel less than.
You had flown out to Seoul in an attempt to surprise him and hopefully pick up his spirits, but with all the craziness of upcoming schedules you, unfortunately, came at a time where you didn’t get to see him as often as you thought. You understood though. Not holding it against him. Chan also more than appreciated being able to nestle up to your body when he finally trucked into the dorms early in the morning finding it easier to sleep with you near him. He felt an unspoken comfort with you around that he needed more than he realized.
With a five hour dance practice finally wrapping up, Chan moved in silence. Grabbing his belongings he came to the conclusion that he needed a bit of a break. A moment to decompress from everything. Letting out a sigh he turned back around to the boys informing them of his next moves.
“So…I was going to go to the studio after we were finished here, but I think I need a break honestly. It’s all a little bit too much right now.”
Everyone went a bit silent, feeling the tense energy radiating off of him. Felix took the opportunity to offer a hand recognizing that Chan was in a funk, in a feeble attempt to ask if he was okay.
“You sure you’re good, man? Like you don’t need anything from us?”
Not wanting to pry too much knowing how his emotions could fire up from nowhere, he was trying his best to keep it open ended.
“Yeah. I just prolly need to sleep or something.”
“Okay. If anything we’re here for you. And I’m sure Y/N will be more than willing to help you with anything you need.”
He knew Felix meant well, but it just struck a nerve in him that ultimately made him feel worse. Feeling like even when he was supposed to enjoy spending time with you, you were always snubbed to “taking care” of him when it should’ve been the other way around. Sighing, Chan closed his eyes and nodded.
“Yeah–alright, I’ll see you guys back at the dorm later.”
With quiet goodbyes, Chan left the practice room and walked towards the exit of the JYP building where someone would be waiting to take the boys home when needed. No questions were asked as he looked at the driver silently signaling that he was in need of being taken back to the dorms. The ride back was even more silent. Every self deprecating and stressful thought ran through his mind like a traumatic PowerPoint stuck on a loop. The buildings passing by were just distant figures in his vision no matter how close they actually were.
The car finally came to a stop and Chan lowly thanked the driver before getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of the dorms. He didn’t realize he took the stairs until he was already halfway up to the floor he was supposed to be on. Laughing through his nose he shook his head.
“I can’t even pay attention to where I’m going, my gosh.”
Reaching the floor he was supposed to be on, he opened the door and walked down the hallway to the dorm. Approaching the front door, he could hear music playing inside and a small smile designed his face, wondering what it was you were doing on the other side. Opening the door, he entered and kicked his shoes off immediately. The confines of his shoes adding to his irritation unknowingly. He dropped his bag at the front door as well, not wanting to be bothered with dragging it to his bedroom.
Turning the corner he was acquainted with you in your own little world dancing to the music playing from a speaker that was perched on the island of the kitchen. His smile slowly faded into something a little more lustful when your figure moved from behind the island, showing that you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts and some underwear. He walked up to you and slipped his hands around your torso, his hands connecting over your tummy.
It startled you, to say the least, but only for a quick second before you settled into his touch recognizing it was him.
“Chris! You scared the shit outta me. What are you doing home so early? Where are the rest of the boys?”
Chan just hummed not answering you right away, swaying you against him. You rested your hands on top of his and tried to turn your head to see him resting his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t get the look at him that you wanted, so you tried to move to turn around and look at him, but Chan just held your body tighter and closer to him. 
“Don’t move, I’ll tell you in a second.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling concerned with how his mannerisms were. Before if you could ask if he was okay he inhaled to speak.
“Just…really tired. Schedules and all that and I also kinda feel like a bad boyfriend.”
Hearing that, you just couldn’t stay in the position he was trying so desperately to keep you in. You turned around and cupped his face to bring it up to face your own. As quickly as you turned around, he dropped his head not ready to face you. You moved your head to look at him but he was refusing.
“Chris…where’s all this coming from? How are you being a bad boyfriend?”
He sighed, taking another long silence before he spoke.
“-I’m never around. And, you came to see me and you can’t see me because I’m literally never here. And when you do see me I feel like, you feel like you just have to take care of me and I can’t help but feel like an ass for that.”
“Chris, c’mon. You know I’d never feel that way.”
“See! Like that. I know what you're gonna say next and it just doesn’t make it any better because I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
Dropping your hands you dropped your head as well, having a hunch where you could tell where this was going.
“Chris, I knew what I was getting into from jump when I said yes to being yours. And it’s my fault for not telling you I was gonna come out here. You had so much going on that you didn’t mention it and that’s okay! I’m not upset about any of that let alone upset with you. Stop beating yourself up.”
He stepped away, running his hand through his hair.
“You’re missing the point.”
You furrowed your brow and grabbed your phone off the counter to lower the volume of the music. 
“What point am I missing exactly?”
“That you deserve better than me and I need to do better and you-”
“-Hold on, stop right there because you’re already off track.”
“No! You’re not hearing me Y/N.”
The last thing you expected was for him to get loud. You knew Chan didn’t regulate his emotions as he should, but you didn’t think he would take them out on you. You pressed your lips together and slowly it formed into a frown. You knew he didn’t mean it but nonetheless, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Chan was standing with his hand over his eyes, seemingly even more stressed than when he came in and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. 
“I’m gonna just, give you a moment and let this kinda settle because I know how you can get.”
You turned to walk out of the kitchen and began to walk towards his bedroom to wait for him. But before you could even make it out of the kitchen, Chan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, halting you in your tracks. His breath was heavy like he was trying to calm a panic attack and his eyes were blown.
“Don’t. Don’t walk away right now. Please.”
“Chris, the last thing I want right now is to add to your stress so I think it’s-”
“Y/N!, No it’s not what’s best right now! I need you and you’re trying to walk away from me. What aren’t you getting from that.”
Now you were looking at him as if he was mad. You had never seen him act out in such a way and especially with you. It left you confused and moreover concerned for him. But now you were on track with getting annoyed. He was leaving you with little explanation expecting you to just understand verbatim what he needed without telling you. Any time you tried to speak he cut you off and was actively creating more conflict. 
“Chris. I don’t want us to do this right now.”
You tried to step away again but your body ended up pressed against the counter. Chan’s body pressed so closely into yours it was almost like he was trying to become one with you. His brows furrowed and he dropped his head again, his breathing picking up once more.
“I. Need. You.”
You were unsure of where to step. He was unhinging himself by the second. Leaving you stuck in a hard place on what to do next. He was getting closer to you, pushing himself closer.
“Chris, I don’t know what you need from me unless you tell–why are you hard right now?”
He was almost grinding into you now. His head dipped into your neck again except now there was a different feeling attached to it. He dragged his nose up your neck landing underneath your ear. Biting lightly at your earlobe, his hands moved to your hips gripping at your flesh trying to bring you even closer.
“You smell so good, baby.”
Your breathing began to quicken in response to this change of behavior. Your body reacting a lot more quickly than your brain would allow you to comprehend.
“Wearing just my shirt, what if it wasn’t me that came home early, huh?”
Chan backed up so he could stare at you, trying to read just your expression.
“I-I, you guys have normally been home really late so I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”
“You just wanna show yourself off to them?”
“Nono not at all I just-”
Before you had the chance to explain your case, Chan’s large hands trailed down to your ass, squeezing at the fat. A small moan choked out of you surprised at the action.
“You don’t understand how much I need you, do you?”
Panting, anticipation running through your veins, you looked up into his eyes.
“Why don’t you show me?”
Any control he had left in him, completely dissipated in just five words. Everything that was too hard for him to verbalize no longer had the capacity to stress him out. Your consent finding the perfect way to let him express himself without something to dwell on. His mouth landed on yours, a certain kind of anguish running through the kiss. His hands were all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he could.
You kissed him back with equal intensity. The irritation you previously felt was soon gone as he stopped trying to haphazardly explain his needs to you. He lifted you up onto the counter, placing himself between your legs. Rolling his hips into yours, you could feel his need attempting to break through the cotton of his shorts which sent a heartbeat straight to your core. You could feel him smirk against you as he felt you clench against him, your underwear providing you with little decency to hide. 
“Oh, seems like somebody is a little needy too.”
“Chris, I…”
You didn’t know what came over you but you felt that what you were about to offer would solve what he was feeling at such an overwhelming capacity. You rolled your hips against him, desperate for some type of friction. Looking at him you made sure that he could see the sincerity in your eyes. 
“Use me. Whatever it is that you’re feeling right now, take it out on me. We’ll talk about it later.”
Chan pulled away from you and the Chan you’d become accustomed to made a quick visit, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he couldn’t find any he spoke wanting every form of confirmation.
“Are you sure? Once I let go I don’t think I can hold back.”
You nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to have him ruin you in whatever way he was imagining. 
“I can take it.”
Verifying your words, Chan picked you up and carried you to his room. Laying you on his bed he hovered over you gazing down at your body. 
“You have, no idea what you do to me, do you?”
Licking your lips you found his eyes
“I’m sure you can show me better than you can tell me, baby.”
His sexual appetite was ravenous and it was more than he could handle. Chan felt as if he was gonna bust at his seams and staring at your body in his shirt made him feel all the more manic. He moved his body down toward the foot of the bed and stared up at you from the apex of your legs. Your scent dripping through the fabric of your underwear. 
“Look at you. Already soaking through your panties for me.”
You whined out, slightly embarrassed by his observation. He had barely done anything and yet everything he did made you feel so enticed and bound to him. 
He brought his hands up to the lining of your underwear and slowly dragged them down your legs, letting them hit the floor. He kissed up your legs ending his travels at the fat of your thighs. Sucking small hickies into your tender skin. 
You moaned out, the sensation of the hickey in that area making you clench a little tighter than you had before. Chan chuckled and noticed the way your body was already beginning to squirm under his touch. Bringing his face closer to your heat, he finally licked a fat stripe up your lips. Your walls clenching uncontrollably at the wanted touch. 
Chan moved his tongue in a way that had you on the brink of orgasm faster than you ever had before. He bounced back between sucking lightly on your clit and circling his tongue around it to break up the intensity. He could tell by the way your breathing changed that you were approaching your climax. Wanting to see you fall apart underneath him, he brought his hand up to tease at your entrance. Prodding just the tip of his fingers inside. 
Your hand made way to his curls. Scrunching at his hair in an attempt to ground yourself from your impending euphoria. He moaned against your pussy, the extra stimulation causing you to clench around nothing yet again. Chan’s fingers finally found their way inside your soaking hole and a loud moan escaped your throat. Unable to control the reaction of how it felt.
Chan moved his fingers in a come hither motion, rubbing at that special little spongy spot inside of you. 
“C’mon baby, cum for me. I can feel you’re almost there.”
His fingers began moving a little faster to be in tandem with his tongue. The double stimulation had you soaring over your inhibitions and you came around his fingers. Squeezing around him uncontrollably. It felt so undeniably good. It had been so long since you two had a moment to have this and he was relishing in it. 
Watching you fall apart in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to see it again. On the come down of your high, his tongue began moving around your clit again. 
“Shit, shit, Chris!” 
He lapped at your arousal, your juices coating his chin. 
“C’mon Y/N, baby. One more. For me?” 
Your back arched from the bed, his tongue sending you tunneling into your pleasure. 
“Fuck, Chris, I’m cumming! 
All he did was moan into you, the vibrations sending you into your second orgasm. The overstimulation hitting you a little harder than usual. When Chan lifted his head up, you watched a bead of wetness fall from his chin. 
“I’m going to make you do that, every fuckin time now. So fuckin sexy.”
You were almost too fucked out to comprehend what he was talking about until you felt a coolness stick to your inner thigh. Your eyes widened in horror. Coming to terms that you just squirted on his face. Panting, you finally found the breath to say something.  
“Holy shit. I did not just do that.” 
“Sure did. Kinda wanna see if I can make you do it again.”
Chan smiled as he dragged his finger up your folds, causing your body to jolt at the stimulation of his finger running across your clit. Your body was covered in goosebumps.  Anticipating his next move. Trying to sit up, you wanted to return the favor, but Chan bound your wrists in his hands pinning you back down to the bed. 
“Nuh uh babygirl. As much as I wanna watch your lips wrap around my cock, I won’t make it.” 
Chan crawled back up to you so you could be face to face with him. 
“And as much as I love you in my clothes…I wanna see all of you while I make you mine. Over and over again. 
His hands pawed up your body and removed you from his shirt. His head came down to leave a trail of kisses starting from your stomach and ending their journey at your nipples. Sucking at your supple flesh, he kneaded your other breast in his hand. You moaned out, back arching slightly as you rubbed your head into the pillow beneath you. You felt so small beneath him. His energy was massive and brooding. He was domineering but still, when you looked into his eyes you could see the softness swirling somewhere beneath it all. 
Your hands found their way back into his hair, gripping at his locks as you rolled your hips up into his painfully hard cock. With each roll, you could feel his cock twitching behind the cotton of his pants. 
“Take it off, baby. For me.”
Your hand trailed down to his pants rubbing over the fabric to play with his cock. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he wiggled out of his pants and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. His hands roamed up your sides again, making you feel smaller than you were. He was eating you alive with just his eyes. Devouring you in every way fathomable before even thinking of entering you. 
He kissed you, with a yearning you hadn’t felt from him before. It was rough yet gentle. Giving and taking all in the same breath. He was grabbing at you like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His hands traveled down to your hips and lifted your lower body up just a bit before worming his way in between your legs.
You moved your hand to stroke his cock earning a loud groan to expel from his throat. He hissed as you played with the head, thumbing over his painfully sensitive slit. Taking his hand to wrap around your wrist, he brought your hands up to your head pinning you to the bed again. He took the tip of his cock and rubbed it back and forth between your folds, teasing you. He wanted you to whine out for him. So he could hear that you needed him just as much as he needed you. 
“Chris, please. Don’t tease me like this.” 
He halted his movements, a smirk spreading across his face.
“I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted. Use you, is how I think you put it.”
An airy laugh left him as you whined out against him, trying to get a tiny moment of friction just to satisfy the ache you were feeling. 
“Use me then, don’t tease me. I need you. I need you inside of me. Want you to ruin me.”
Your voice trailed into something softer as you began to hear yourself and felt a little flustered from it all. You were so desperate for him and he didn’t even have to ask. You were feeding his current ego sending even more blood rushing to his cock. 
“Didn’t even have to ask you to beg. You need me that bad?”
“Yes! Yes, I need you that bad. Please, please stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”
He chuckled. Almost sinister.
“You want me to fuck you, yeah?”
Pushing his tip into your entrance, your breathing picked up and squeezed around him. 
“Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna squeeze me out clenching that hard.”
“Please, Chris. It’s been so long.”
Your eyes were pleading. Your body was suddenly hyper aware of how long it had been since you two had been intimate with each other. Your neediness was becoming unbearable. You needed him and he was having too much fun making you squirm. You tried to push yourself onto him further, which prompted Chan to grab your hips and keep you still. 
“Don’t even try it.”
Before you got the chance to respond, Chan sheathed himself fully inside you. The thickness of his cock filling you up deliciously. It had been so long since he was inside you, it feel like he got bigger. His cock was so hard and was filling you up so well. 
“Fuck, you feel so much bigger, baby. Fill me up so well.”
Chan’s head dropped into your neck, rolling his cock in and out of you agonizingly slow. You could feel each ridge of his dick and his groans were so close to your ear that your body just shivered and clenched around me. 
“Chris, fuck. Please move faster. I can’t take this.”
His eyes blew wide as he looked down at you. An animalistic gaze glossing over his pupils. His breath, heavy and his hands squeezing at your body. 
“Want me to move faster, huh? Want me to fuck you dumb is that what you want?”
“Fuck, yes! Please. Please use me however you want fuck. I just need you to m~ah!
Thus began the beating of your precious little cunt at his mercy. He was drilling into you and he brought his hands under your lower back angling your body to hit every spot possible. His pace was erratic and his skin was beginning to become sticky. His tip barreling at your cervix with each thrust, your back was arched so far away from the bed.
Moans were in tandem with each other, being the only real communication now. Bring your body to become friendly with the bed beneath you again, your hands planted themselves into Chan’s back dragging down his skin, needed something to cling on to keep you grounded. 
It felt so good and with the inconsistency of his thrusts, you could tell he was getting close. 
“Fuck, Y/N. Cum with me. I need you to cum with me.” 
You squeezed around him, his words bringing you closer to your peak than you thought.
“'m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine~fuck!”
He picked up the speed and within a blink, you felt his warm seed spread inside of you. You convulsed around him, the feeling of his cum inside of you sending you over your edge. 
“Fuckin shit Y/N. Fuck that felt so good.”
He was panting and so were you, but you needed more. You brought yourself up to your elbows and then moved yourself up enough to be able to turn the both of you over so that you were on top now. His eyes became a little wide, trying to understand what it was you were doing. 
“Y/N, baby you gotta give me a little bit o-”
You cut him off as you sank down on his cock, beginning to overstimulate him.
“I need more of you, Chris. I need so much of you, fuck!”
 You rode him like you never had before. You were beyond desperate, chasing your fourth release of the night. His cock was hitting all new angles and made you feel even more full than you did moments prior. You were overstimulating him and his moans were doing nothing but stirring you on. As you bounced on him, the mixture of both of your arousals was dripping down his cock and pooling near his pelvis. 
His moans were getting louder and louder, letting you know that he was getting close. For a moment you felt the power roles shift. And for just that moment you wanted to relish in it. Running your hand down his chest, you ran over his nipple before bringing your hand up to rest on his collarbone deciding your next move. 
“Aww, look at you being taken care of. Bet you like this don’t you?”
Chan looked up and groaned at you, not really indulging in what you were saying as the mind fucked atmosphere shared between the two of you was beginning to cloud his mind. You don’t know where it came from, but as quick as the idea came, it went. You brought your hand back into the air, only to have it land across his cheek the sound sending shock waves to your previous confidence. 
“I asked you a question.”
Chan smiled with his tongue in his cheek, amused by your little number. 
“You think you’re cute don’t you?”
Submissive nature found its way back into you, the demeanor Chan was radiating sent you back to its familiar nature. 
“I asked you a question Y/N…what’s the matter?” You panicked internally, knowing you just fucked up royally and that you were about to get your ass handed to you. His hands grabbed at the fat of your thighs, crippling any dominance that was lingering in you. His eyes were near black, his pupils dilated so far that the color of his iris was something only your memory could provide. 
“You’re brave, I’ll give you that. And I won’t lie, I liked it. But I think you need a bit of a reminder of who’s in charge.”
 In an instant, Chan had taken your body and flipped you on your hands and knees. He was rougher than he had been all night. Carnality his only motive. He grabbed your hips again to position you how he wanted. He was stalking behind you and every breath he took landed back on your neck, sending shivers down your skin. Impatient and anxious of what he was planning next. 
His large hand trailed down your back until he laced it in your hair gripping at the root to control your body to his liking. You moved with him, finding yourself being pressed against his chest. Chan rested his chin on your shoulder and nibbled at your earlobe, the sensation causing you to push back into him and feel his cock standing on edge again. 
“I’m going to fuck you now in a way that will ruin you for anybody else. Understand?”
Not putting any faith in your voice, you nodded as best you could with Chan’s grip on your hair.
“Yes, yes I understand.”
You pushed your hips down again trying to feel something. Surprisingly Chan reciprocated, thrusting his cock between your thighs, slightly grazing in between your folds. You whined out needing him to be inside of you again.
“Chris, please fuck me.”
“Okay princess, but only because you said please.”
His tone was condescending and it sent a new kind of excitement rushing to your core. Chan let go of his tight grip on your hair and let you fall forward back onto the bed. He lined himself up with your entrance not wasting any time with teasing which you were silently thanking him for.
He always filled you up so nicely. No matter how many times you had him, the feeling of him sliding in and bottoming out always felt as good as the first time. You were too gone to care about how you sounded, your moans overpowering his as he fully slipped himself into you. 
The pace he was setting was unrelenting and feral. Pounding himself so that your cunt would mold perfectly to the shape of him. His hand found itself in your hair again but instead of pulling you up he was smushing your face into the sheets beneath you. 
“Who’s pussy is this, huh?”
You whimpered and squeezed around him, not prepared for him to start talking. Displeased with your silence he asked again, punctuating each word with a thrust that was harder than the last. 
“Answer. Me. Who’s. Pussy. Is. This?”
You screamed out, the stimulation becoming almost too much. 
“Fuck! It’s yours! It’s your pussy, Chris.”
Tears were beginning to well in your eyes and fall across your nose, melting into the bed sheets. Without warning, Chan pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. The lack of his cock inside of you pulled whines out of you. Your tears fell a little more rapidly as you were so close to another orgasm and it was just stolen from you. Chan moved the hair from your face and stared down at you. He reentered you and your back arched, any stimulation bringing you so close to your edge. An arrogant smile decorated his mouth as he saw your tear stains and wet lashes. 
“Aww, is it too much for your little pussy, baby? Need me to stop?”
“Nonono. N-need your c-cock. Please, daddy. Please.”
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me”
A rigid pace attacked your flowery cunt, overstimulating you immediately. Chan’s thumb found your delicate clit and started to rub soft circles. You moaned out loudly, your throat feeling hoarse from all the damage you were inflicting on it. You grabbed at the sheets, Chan’s back, anything you could to keep you on the bed. It was too much. It felt too good. 
“Look at my pretty baby. Can’t even take all of me anymore. Crying all over my cock. Gonna cum soon baby?”
You nodded and whimpered out a small yes trying to focus on every sensation that was ripping through you at this moment.
“Where do you want me, baby?”
You opened your eyes, staring at him showing how desperate you really were.
“I-inside. Inside me.”
Chan groaned out and picked up the pace of his thrusts. The thought of him cumming inside of you always bringing him right to the precipice of ecstasy. 
“Yeah, want me to fill you up till you can’t take any more of me? Till I’m spilling out of you.”
You clenched around him so hard you were almost pushing him out of you. His words amplified everything you were feeling.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
Chan was beginning to feel the mind fog of sex again and he was saying anything that came to mind. Unlocking doors for you that you didn’t even know existed.
“Want me to fill you up and make you a fuckin mommy, huh?”
Your eyes blew wide before they rolled back immersing you completely in the pleasure you were feeling. 
“Chris, fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna cum again! Fill me up again. Wanna feel all of you~ah!”
“Fuck Y/N. Take it. Take it all.”
Chan’s hand came up to your throat pressing on the pressure points just enough to bring you to the brink of your arousal. With one more roll of his thumb, you were squeezing and gushing around him. 
“Fucking shit! Chris!”
His name became a mantra. Something that reminded you that this was real and not a dream. You were really being demolished like this by him. Both of your moans echoed off the walls of his bedroom, making a cacophony of sounds for anyone on the outside to catch. Chan’s thrusts almost transformed into scoops as he blew his seed inside your velvet walls one last time. Making sure that none of it had the chance to escape.
With nothing but heavy breathing and sweat being shared between you two, Chan’s body collapsed onto yours, his head nestling into your neck. Finding the strength to get off of you, he pulled out of you as well. Looking down at your swollen pussy, his cum was leaking out a bit, to which he took two of his fingers to push it back inside of you.
Your body jerked. Completely overstimulated. You shuddered and squeezed around his fingers before he took them out completely.
An airy chuckle followed his words as he laid down next to you. Popping back up as he had a thought.
“Wait, lemme go grab something.”
You were too fucked out to respond and honestly were still trying to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, a small smile spreading across your face. Your eyes opened again when you felt Chan’s hand on your leg trying to move them to open a bit more. You saw he had a warm, wet cloth in his hand and opened your legs the rest of the way so he could clean you up. You grimaced at the feeling, still sensitive from all the damage just bestowed on you.
Chan looked up as he heard a small hiss come from you, a small frown starting to take shape on his own face. Finishing the preliminary cleanup, he tossed the rag towards the hamper in his room and he laid back next to you.
“Was I too much? I’m so sorry if it was”
You slowly turned your head, trying to silently let Chan know to not start rambling. You spoke before he could again, in hopes to calm his worries before more could arise. 
“Chris, if it was ever too much I would’ve told you. Think that was the best sex we’ve had in a long time.”
“Really? You’re okay?”
“Look, if that’s what being stressed does to you, by all means, use me whenever because god damn. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before.”
“Okay, as long as you’re okay then I’m alright.”
You turned over to face him and draw shapes onto his chest. 
“Don’t get me wrong, I love how we normally are. But that here and there…” 
You trailed off, whistling to end your sentence instead of using words. Chan smiled lightly, moving his hand down to find yours and lace your fingers with his.
“And what was that about making me a mommy?” It was so easy to tease him now, seeing that Chan was starting to relax. Instantly his ears went red and he tried to cover his face.
“Gosh, don’t repeat it back to me.” 
“You’re the one that said it!” 
You both laughed letting the topic fade into the air not wanting to push much further.
“I mean, one day I’d like to.”
You smiled as you looked up at him.
“That would be nice. Not now obviously, but sometime in the future.”
Silence fell over you. You knew he was holding back verbally about how he was feeling and you wanted to make sure that he was alright in full. You squeezed his hand to grab his focus.
“You ready to talk about everything? Or are you still on edge about it?”
He sighed, knowing that there was no way you were gonna let him get away without speaking about his feelings. Even when he thought he could, you always found a way to pull it out of him. 
“Yeah…yeah, I guess I should talk about it.”
You thought for a moment.
“Why don’t we run a bath and you can tell me everything while we’re in there. We’ll clean up and have a therapy session all in one.”
You pointed at your head as if you just discovered the most mind-blowing idea. Chan chuckled as he nodded along. 
“Sounds like a good idea.”
You both got up from the bed and began to gather what you would need after getting out the bath. Before you even choose a set of clothes to put on you heard a voice echo through the dorm that you recognized as Changbin’s.
“Whenever you guys are done fucking, we’re thinking of going to get dinner.”
You both looked at each other, horror and embarrassment filling your faces. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You closed it and then opened it again, finding your words.
“I hope they didn’t hear all that.”
Chan raised his hands in defeat.
“Let’s just not think or ask about it.”
a/n: hope whoever comes across this enjoys it. i had fun writing it! as always requests or asks are currently open :)
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venusiangguk · 4 months ago
the art of yearning- pt 1 | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst
>>word count: 15.7k 
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, taekook heart to heart, a lot of self-directed negative thoughts from nari’s father </3, jaykay being a dumb man 😕, jaykay needing everything spelled out for him 🙄, tae to the rescue <3, hobi for comedic relief bc jfc 😭 the YEARNING, guilty jerk sesh lets goooo, lots of memories n fantasies <3, omg slight hinting at jk’s subby era!!, 1 finish followed by many regrets n thoughts ~~
>>notes: part 1 of 2 <3 this part is the post-fight happenings from jk’s pov! i split it up bc as we can see it’s already quite long 🥲 pls dont be mad at me <3 i hope u guys are able to understand jk’s reasoning n thought process a lil more after this !! 
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: jungkook wants you as much as he misses you.
It’s a bit colder than the last time he was here. The air a bit chillier, the wind a little sharper. It’s admittedly been a while. A month, maybe a touch less. Jeongguk hasn’t really been keeping track. 
 Circumstances, like the weather, differ from the last time he was here as well. 
 It shouldn’t still feel like it’s as big of a deal as it does. It shouldn’t still be pressing so heavy on him, and it definitely shouldn’t cross his mind as often as it does when he deliberately does his best not to think about it. About you.
 You said you would think about things, but Jeongguk never said the same. So he truly does not understand why he just cannot keep you out of his head.
 When it’s his week with Nari, it’s not as bad– the thought of you isn’t so nonstop. Her terrible two’s, which really aren’t that terrible, keep him busy. 
 Constantly trying to keep up with her, or running around his home trying to find that damn narwhal that she always seems to misplace, even though he feels like she always has it in her tiny hands. She’s taken it with her everywhere since you got it for her. And there you are again. On his mind, clouding his thoughts. 
 Constantly redoing her pigtails that she yanks out. It’s a new, maybe slightly terrible, habit that she’s picked up. And they’re still always lopsided despite the numerous times you tried to show him how to make them symmetrical. You said something about tugging gently on the tiny sprouts until they were where he wanted them so– There he goes.
 Constantly closing and reclosing the baby gate she’s learned to open in the gym whenever he tries to clear his head by getting a workout in. Exercising does help a small amount when he’s not interrupted by his daughter. And when he doesn’t think about how the smudged handprints on the mirror got there. The ones that he has still yet to clean. Those instances are a bit gross but they aren’t exactly his fault. He doesn’t actively think about you then;  he’s reminded.
 A lot of things seem to remind him of you. 
 Work also keeps him occupied for the most part. Until it doesn’t. 
 Visions of you on your front, against his desk, with your hands cuffed behind your back, interrupt him during his video conferences. The metal part of his chair has scratches on it from where the same cuffs rubbed against it, metal on metal, as he struggled against their hold with you on top of him– his suits get caught on the ridges, the material getting snagged on the raised, uneven metal. Just like you get caught on the ridges of his brain, the memory of you getting snagged on his conscience.
 Jeongguk feels so guilty when he lets his mind wander to you like that.
 But that’s not even the worst of it. It’s even harder when Nari is at Dasom’s. 
 That’s when it really hits him– how intertwined you had become in his life. 
 You’re not there anymore, but you’re still everywhere. 
 You’re in the kitchen when he wakes up to make his morning coffee. In his shirt with sleepy eyes and a hopeless smile on your face as you laugh embarrassed. Telling him in your slightly scratchy morning voice that you had wanted to surprise him with his americano, but you couldn’t figure out the ‘fancy, high-tech’ coffee machine. 
 He can’t even remember how many times he showed you how to work it. You were able to figure out the blender eventually, but the Jura he splurged on seemed to have been a lost cause.
 You’re in his closet when he picks out his clothes; you’re picking out some of his to wear as your own, too. You’re in the articles of clothing you left behind, still taking up space in his dresser just as much as you’re still taking up space in his mind. 
 You’re on the couch with him when he settles down after work, fidgeting because you were never able to sit still for very long. Going back and forth between having your feet tucked underneath you, and outstretched on the recliner. Between having your head in your hand, and in his lap. 
 Jeongguk will say that he’s able to get through a series, a movie, a documentary– much faster, and he’s able to remember the premise a lot better now that he doesn’t have you constantly asking him questions about the plot. Questions you would have found the answer to eventually if you would have just watched. An annoying, yet cute and endearing tendency of yours that he misses more than he thought he would and more than he probably should.
 You’re in the garden too. In the flowers, the colors of the petals match the color of your nails that week. You’re in the grass, resting atop a blanket, head pillowed on your arms, just watching him as he tends to the weeds. You’re in the sun that beats down on his back because it feels warm, exactly like you did.
 A brisk breeze blows Jeongguk out of his thoughts and back to the present. He’s met with the familiar door in front of him. He’s apprehensive as he brings his hand up to knock.
 It opens before he even gets a chance to rap his knuckles against the wood, and he’s face to face with an overly excited, loud person.
 “Hello, my good…” Hoseok’s bright smile drops and his brows pinch in confusion, “singular bitch?” His tone is puzzled as he looks at Jeongguk and then over his shoulder like he’s searching for someone. “Where’s __?”
 Jeongguk sighs quietly, knowing that the questions were inevitably going to come. He RSVP’d you coming with him to Friendsgiving a bit prematurely, even before he asked you, just figuring it would be a given that you would agree and want to join. You were supposed to go with him and–
 He feels a teeny, tiny hand squeeze at his pinky, trying to get his attention. Nari’s eyes are big and round as she looks up at him. Her orange, leaf-shaped hair bow is about to fall out as she babbles a mostly decipherable version of your name, and Jeongguk’s heart chips a little in his chest. Her speech is getting better every day, even if she still babbles in broken phrases. Even if a lot of her words are still hard to pick up on and talking is her last resort. After you left, your name became one of the few words she could say clearly.
 He gives her a gentle, sad smile and shakes his head softly. “Not today, boba.”
 Nari seems mostly unbothered, used to that answer by now, her attention going to the rings on her dad’s fingers. She doesn’t ask about you as much anymore. Only when she’s reminded of you, like just now when Hoseok said your name or that time Jeongguk caved and looked through his photos with her tucked into his side while he thought she was preoccupied with her show on the tv. Maybe you’re starting to fade away in her little baby brain.
 Jeongguk’s attention goes back to his friend, who is standing with a tense smile on his face. “Thanks for that,” he says with a pointed look, walking through the threshold with full hands. 
 Hoseok throws his palms up. “Well how was I supposed to know you and __,” he mouths your name silently, “broke up? You don’t ever even reply to the groupchat anymore.”
 “That is because I have the groupchat muted. Also, we didn’t break up. We were never together,” Jeongguk says matter-of-factly, plucking the bow from Nari’s hair and trying to fix it and put it back in with one hand. He taps the little, lop-sided sprout and says, “Go on, say ‘hi’ to Uncle Hobi.”
 Nari smiles, the tulle bottom of her poofy dress bouncing, her teeny mary janes clicking with each step as she toddles over to her uncle. She extends her pudgy arms, one of her hands holding her narwhal.
 Hoseok crouches, picking up the baby. “Oh my goodness! Look at all those 2-year-old teeth!” His eyes drop to the plush she’s holding by the horn, “And what is th-” 
 Jeongguk interrupts him, shaking his head and making a loud, scolding, AH sound. And when their eyes meet, Hoseok’s are wide and confused, and Jeongguk’s are trying to convey ‘do not’.
 “Okay!” Hoseok carries on swiftly, the same stiff smile still on his face, “Let’s get Daddy to drop off that pie he’s holding, and then you can go see all your cousins and aunties and other less important uncles, hmm?” he coos to Nari, turning to walk towards Namjoon’s kitchen.
 “Jes!” she spouts, nodding in a rather professional manner like the plan is exactly perfect and like they should get right to business. She points towards where she knows the kitchen is with 3 of her baby fingers.
 Jeongguk follows suit smiling softly at his daughter while he simultaneously readies himself to face the onslaught of questions. The ones about where you are, what happened, and who did what. Whose fault it is. If he’s reached out;  if you have. If he regrets it; if he misses you. The sooner he gets that over with, the sooner he can have a glass of wine. Or two.
 Hoseok has other plans, sitting Nari’s butt on the marble countertop, next to the pie that Jeongguk sets down. When Jeongguk looks at him ready to take their leave, Hoseok is looking at the dessert.
 “What the hell is that, JK?”
 Jeongguk’s mouth drops open, before he sniffs, offended. “I made it from scratch and I worked very hard on it and you’re very rude.” He glances at the pie that’s under scrutiny, and will admit (to himself) that it’s not particularly… pretty. But it’s still edible. Probably.
 His friend makes a disgusted face that he doesn’t even try to hide. “Why didn’t you just buy one like we normally do?”
 The whole group rotates what they bring every year, and yes, everyone aside from Yoongi and Taehyung’s wife all provided a store-bought pie when it was their turn. Jeongguk shrugs.
  “You can grill. You can’t bake. You know this,” Hoseok reminds.
 When Jeongguk just stays quiet, Hoseok groans, rolling his eyes. Nari mimes him like a little parrot, her groan tinted with laughter like she thinks she’s the funniest thing in the world. Jeongguk agrees.
 “Don’t tell me–” Hoseok starts.
 “I just didn’t want to go to the grocery store,” Jeongguk interrupts, his voice huffy, even though he tries to sound nonchalant. Like it was completely normal for him to avoid the grocery store he’s been going to regularly for years.
 “Jeongguk,” the elder gripes, “what the fuck is going on?”
 Hoseok whispers the swear word as if that will prevent Nari from hearing it when she’s sat right in front of him and Jeongguk scowls, grabbing his toddler. He’s turning to walk away and talking over his shoulder. “She can still hear it even if you whisper it.”
 Quick footsteps catch up to Jeongguk before they fall into step with him. “Have you just been eating takeaway for–” Hoseok pauses, “however long it’s been? Don’t you care about your spawn’s health?”
 “Don’t call her that and of course, I haven’t,” Jeongguk replies, disgruntled. “I’ve been getting groceries delivered… Yoongi left us some food a couple of times too.”
 “Thank god for Yoongi,” Hoseok says with a roll of his eyes. “Have you been getting them from that place with the ridiculous delivery fee?”
 Jeongguk stays silent once again, adjusting Nari on his hip. Only a couple more feet until they reach the backyard and he can be free from Hoseok’s pestering. 
 “You know just because you have a lot of money and can spend it on stupid things, doesn’t mean you should,” Hoseok says in a rather bored tone before adding, “Also you could have literally gotten a pie delivered.” 
 Jeongguk pauses when they reach the sliding glass door, turning to look at the other. “First of all I tried, they’ve been sold out since Tuesday. Second of all, can we please just drop it? At least for right now?” he asks, a bit quieter. “I’ll tell you later, I just–” He tapers off at the end, his lips pursing.
 Hoseok softens, as he reads Jeongguk. He notes how tired he looks, his eyes dark underneath. The kind of sad twinge the younger’s voice has taken. How his shoulders sag a bit like something’s been weighing him down. And then Hoseok simply gives a nod and a small, slightly apologetic smile. 
 His hand comes to Jeongguk’s shoulder and he squeezes a few times, hoping the gesture comes off reassuring. “You know I’m just messing with you. And that I only ask because I care. Tell us when you want.”
 It’s then that Jeongguk’s reminded why they all have been friends for so long, and why he’s so grateful for them. 
 Although he’s had the groupchat muted, he’s glanced at it. He saw everyone still including him in the conversations even though he never replied. 
 Saw the individual texts from them too. 
 Jimin’s telling him that Solmi misses Nari and that they should have a playdate. Volunteering to host said playdate, to watch the girls for a little while, to let Jeongguk have a break if he needs it. 
 The ‘just checking in on you’ texts from Joon. Simple yet heartfelt messages that were a little too soft to read without his eyes stinging. 
 The offers from Jin and Hoseok to be his workout partners– the ones given despite the fact that everyone knows the older two have done their best to avoid joining Jeongguk at the gym since he picked up his relatively new and exceedingly intense boxing workouts. 
 Yoongi’s straightforward messages. Merely short notes; just quiet reminders that told Jeongguk a lot more than to remember to bring in the food Yoongi left by the door, to be quick so the bugs don’t get to it. I’ll take care of you, but remember to take care of yourself too.
 Taehyung’s ‘wyd’ texts, followed by a game invite on the Xbox that Jeongguk’s been playing more often than he’d liked to admit. He never pushed when Jeongguk declined, even though he could see him online.
 Hoseok opens the sliding glass door for them, and everyone’s heads turn to look. And it would be funny, the way that everyone’s smiles turn a little confused. If said smiles didn’t precede inquiries.
 “Where’s __?” 
 Jeongguk loves his friends, but it’s going to be a long night.
 The fancy outdoor patio lamps on Namjoon’s deck double as heaters and keep Jeongguk from shivering in the late autumn air as he sips that glass of wine he promised himself. A red that’s a hint more bitter than what he usually likes, but it seems fitting. 
 Maybe he’s a bit dramatic. And maybe he’s wallowing. 
 But he blames it on the alcohol. Doesn’t acknowledge that he’s been down, off, for a while. About a month, maybe a touch less.
 He moves his gaze from the red he’s absently swirling in his glass to the house, peering in from the outside. Sees all the kids playing in the living room, some of the adults on the couch by the fire, some in the kitchen still picking at the leftovers that Namjoon’s fiancée is trying to put away. That’s a recent development that came as no surprise, and Jeongguk’s happy for Namjoon and Hyesoo, but he wishes he could be happier. 
 One of Taehyung’s twins has Nari on their back, her hands gripping tightly in the floppy mop of hair on the boy's head. Jeongguk smiles softly to himself when he sees her mouth open and her eyes turn into tiny, little half-moons as she laughs. He closes his own briefly, tries to hear her baby giggles in his head. When he opens them again, his view is cut off by the twins’ dad.
 The bottle in Taehyung’s hand is full and the same kind that’s in the glass Jeongguk’s been nursing. He's holding another for himself as well. He stays quiet for a while as he stands behind the seat across from Jeongguk.
 “We’re gonna pull names for Secret Santa soon,” Taehyung eventually states.
 Jeongguk inhales deeply before blowing out like he’s readying himself to be around the rest of the gang again. His breath makes the few out-of-place strands of hair that have fallen across his forehead flutter, his hairstyle now messy from his hands running through it one too many times. Then he nods. “Alright. Should probably head inside then.”
 Taehyung mirrors his nod with a contemplative look. “Or we could just chat for a while. Make the kids practice patience for once.”
 “We could,” Jeongguk agrees easily, a barely-there grin on his lips. Maybe because he doesn’t want to go inside. Maybe because he knows his friend will quote-unquote, make him talk about what happened. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think talking through everything would help alleviate some of the ache.
 The older boy looks like he gets himself comfortable, taking a seat and pulling the cork from the bottle. He tops off Jeongguk’s glass and while he’s filling his own he says, “Why’d you end things with her?”
 Jeongguk falters briefly, the wine glass pausing right before it reaches his lips. “You don’t know it was me that cut it off.”
 He gets a shrug in response. “I suppose. But if we’re going off track records, it’s you that has a bad one.” Taehyung snickers when Jeongguk scowls at him.
 Jeongguk clicks his tongue as he takes another, bigger sip. “Fair, I guess…” he amends, but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he just sighs. “I don’t know. She’s too young. Or maybe I’m too old. Maybe the places that we’re at in life are just too different.” He doesn’t say it, but he thinks that he may be too far ahead and that he’s not sure if you would have been able to catch up because that’s just the way that time works. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.”
 “Did she somehow get younger since the barbeque? Because it didn’t seem like it bothered you then?” Taehyung asks with a chuckle before adding, “Also, 7 years isn’t even that big of an age difference. I think the thing that might make you feel like it’s a bigger deal than it is, is the fact that there is such a drastic difference in your careers… ” 
 He ponders quietly for a second before he decides to tack on, “Which is okay, you’re allowed to be cautious about that kind of stuff. If I made as much as you, I would too,” Taehyung puts a humble hand to his chest, a soft laugh falling from his lips. The hand he raises is modest because he does very well for himself, right on par with Jeongguk and they both know it. “But I also hope you know that it’s normal for her to not know what she wants to do at her age. Not everyone is like you and Dasom were.”
 The way Jeongguk’s cheeks turn to a faint hue of pink at the mention of the barbeque is an involuntary reaction, and he presses his eyes shut to try and fight off the wave of embarrassment. But little snapshot memories of you play against his lids like a montage– you in the water talking with Jin’s wife, at the edge of the pool with aioli on your bottom lip. In the chair next to him with Nari sleeping in your lap, in the bathroom with flushed cheeks, and him between legs. In his hands, in his arms, in his heart. 
 He revels in it, lets himself miss you for just a moment. 
 “___ met her by the way. Dasom, I mean. That was the– catalyst? The thing that got the ball rolling, I guess?” Jeongguk states softly, like he’s not sure if he chose the right words. He’s trying for an air of nonchalance, his eyes flicking downcast as his tattooed fingers toy with the stem of his glass. 
 “And that never really bothered me surprisingly. Like her job…” he adds with a half-hearted shrug. “But you’re right. It’s okay that she doesn’t know what she wants to do career-wise yet…” He watches a droplet of condensation run down the curve of the glass until it drops, the moisture making the wood of the table a few shades darker.
 “But that was just another factor. The not knowing that came with her being so much younger. I think she thought that she knew what she wanted. Thought that she wanted to be with me.” He shrugs again, a small, slightly sad smile on his face. 
 “I’m not sure she knew what being with a divorced father would actually entail, or that she would have still wanted it if she did. I couldn’t let her trap herself, no matter how much I wanted her to stay. It would have just led to resentment and regret. And I wouldn’t have been able to handle her hating me.” He glances at Taehyung briefly before he looks away. “We just had a wake-up call, I guess. A bit of a reality check.” 
 Taehyung winces sympathetically. “I can see how your current girlfriend meeting your baby mama could make things a smidge tense, and cause you to really think things over, maybe take a break… But enough for you to completely end things?”
 Jeongguk doesn’t bother correcting Taehyung. Just shakes his head. “It was always going to…” He pauses, thinks to himself quietly. End doesn’t feel like the right word because you and him never really began. “Stop…” he settles on saying. “If it wasn’t Nari’s mom, it would have been something else, you know? The wake-up call would have come eventually. And sooner is better than later.”
 “Wait back up…” Taehyung’s eyes roam like he’s trying to make sense of what Jeongguk is saying and his previous statement is just now registering. “But she said she wanted to be with you?” he clarifies.
 Jeongguk nods, takes a sip of wine.
 “And you wanted to be with her?”
 Jeongguk gives another, more stilted nod. “I mean, yeah…? But like I said, it just wouldn’t have worked –for a number of reasons– and we had a wake-up call.”
 “Okay,” Taehyung shuts his eyes and shakes his head along with his hands, trying to shush his friend. “Forget about this alleged wake-up call and your reasons for like two seconds,” he says.
 Jeongguk sits quietly across from him.
 “So you’re telling me she blatantly said she wanted to be with you–” He places one hand on the table, palm up before continuing. “–and that you wanted to be with her–” He places his other hand on top of his first, interlocking his fingers as if he’s putting two and two together. “–but you ended things, basically made her decision for her–” He jerks his hands apart dramatically, with an explosive gesture. “–because you think she doesn’t know what she wants?”
 A brief lull in the conversation ensues. 
 “Among other things,” Jeongguk quips eventually with pinched brows. He feels a bit small like he’s being scolded.
 Taehyung’s head tilts back, and he takes a deep breath before speaking in a very parent-esque tone like he’s trying to explain something to a child. “Jeongguk, you cannot do that. You have got to let people make their own decisions.”
 Jeongguk does not appreciate the intonation and he shows as much by narrowing his eyes. 
 “So ___ met your ex, who probably manipulated the situation to her liking,” Jeongguk opens his mouth to defend the mother of his child –it’s a habit at this point– but Taehyung cuts him off with a raised hand and a roll of his eyes. “The woman literally twists and manhandles situations for a living, please save your ‘Dasom’s not a bad person, she’s not a bad mom’ lecture.” 
 Taehyung’s known Dasom for a long time and while he’s never really been her biggest fan, even he will acknowledge that part of her, the part that’s calculating and crafty with words, is a skill just as much as it’s a flaw. It always instilled an unsettled, almost disturbed, awe in him when he caught glimpses of how she was able to spin things to get her way and gain control over situations. It made her an incredible lawyer; it allowed her to excel in her field and advance her career incredibly fast. 
 And he’s well aware that Dasom has a right, to some extent as Nari’s mother, to question who Jeongguk brings around their daughter. But he also knows she can be dramatic, calculative, and quite cruel at times. He doesn’t doubt that seeing someone new in her old home with her ex-husband put her on the defensive… Made her lash out, blow things out of proportion, and use that skill of hers to put thoughts into Jeongguk’s head, and potentially yours too, to attain the upper hand again. 
 In all honesty, when Taehyung looks at it from an unbiased, objective point of view… He’s not sure he can even blame Jeongguk’s ex. Even if he is harsh for the simple fact that he’s Jeongguk’s best friend and does think that Dasom likely exaggerated the points of whatever she said– it’s not hard to gather that the entire situation was shit all around, and everyone involved was caught off guard. 
 The natural tension that comes with unexpected and unfamiliar situations probably caused everyone to act in ways they typically wouldn’t. Words harsher, actions meaner, outcomes more drastic. The damage done to all parties by all parties was most likely unintentional, albeit extreme. 
 But he says what he says, and promptly carries on with his point. “So she met your lawyer ex, and you told her she doesn’t know what she wants…” Taehyung finishes as if he’s keeping a mental tab of everything that went wrong. “And then ___ just… left?”
 “It was slightly more intense and painful and complicated than that,” Jeongguk replies in a defensive tone, “but essentially I guess? I mean I told her I wasn’t going to let her stay so what else was she going to do? I didn’t really give her much of a choice.”
 Taehyung’s face falls, and he chooses to ignore how easily the words fall from Jeongguk’s lips; almost like they don’t fully register.  “Please tell me you didn’t actually say that to her. That you ‘wouldn’t let her stay’.” 
 Jeongguk stays silent once more, a miffed expression overtaking his features this time.
 “Jesus, Gguk.” Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose, looks like he’s in actual pain because of Jeongguk’s actions. “Have you talked to her since?” 
 The younger one deflates, his irritation transitions quickly and smoothly to dejection. “Kinda. She left in the middle of the night really upset… like crying. And we– she was probably tired… Then add the stress of Dasom showing up–” 
 He winces to himself, remembering the state you were in. He wasn’t much better off, but still, he feels bad because– “I knew all of that and I still let her leave. Obviously? Right? Because I was the one that told her to go?” He looks confused, like he’s trying to make sense of his past actions and what he was feeling at that moment because it doesn't quite make sense now. 
 “Anyway, I got really worried and I impulsively texted her, asking if she made it home safe…” After a tense pause, he tacks on: “She didn’t reply.” Like it’s an afterthought.
 “And neither would I if someone said the things you said to her, to me,” Taehyung says with a flat stare.
 “Who’s side are you on?” The questioned reply sounds whiny, maybe slightly begging.
 “Yours!” Taehyung exclaims, “We are all Team Jeongguk except Jeongguk.”
 The notes of the conversation have been a bit melancholic for obvious reasons, but it’s more or less remained easy to manage. However, as Jeongguk holds Taehyung’s stare for a few long moments he feels a wonted, recognizable ache begin to stop up his voice. He looks away with a shake of his head. “You don’t get it. You don’t know everything that happened, or how it felt to get rid of her when she was–”
 Cutting himself off is a consequence of the lump in his throat. That familiar, ordinarily tender ache growing until he can’t get around it anymore. 
 “Then tell me,” Taehyung stresses, adding a pleading edge to his words. “Explain to me what happened, describe how it felt to cut her out. When she was what? Spell it out for me,” he requests. 
 Sure he wants to know, but he’s mainly trying to keep Jeongguk talking. Trying to get him to work through the false narratives he has in his head for why he ended things with you, while he explains them to him.
 Jeongguk’s brooding; ruminating as he tries to sort his thoughts. Surface level– they're easy, simple questions when he thinks about them easily and simply. When he contemplates them in superficial ways. 
 What happened? He cut you out.  
 How did it feel to cut you out? It hurt. 
 What were you to him that made it hurt when he cut you out? The basic, most elementary explanation would be that you were someone he cared about and someone he wanted to keep. 
 It's simple enough to explain, easy enough to understand when he describes it superficially.
 But when he digs deeper, thoroughly reflects– it’s not as easy. It’s quite the contrary. 
 Because with depth comes intricacies that are so weighted and hold so much gravity that it makes them too difficult and complex to explain. They are too personal and intimate and special to describe to someone who just isn’t privy. 
 Jeongguk couldn’t even figure it out. Even he wasn’t able to grasp, couldn’t comprehend, wasn’t able to figure out a way to make you and him simple; him and you easy enough to just work. 
 And if he couldn’t understand it– he’s not convinced he’ll be able to break it down and simplify it enough to elucidate it to someone who doesn’t know you as he did, someone who didn’t get to experience you the way he got to. 
 Because it’s all so much bigger than ‘cutting’ and ‘hurting’ and ‘caring’ and ‘wanting’.
 Jeongguk gives Taehyung the plainest, most straightforward explanation that he can muster. “It hurt to cut her out because I cared about her and I wanted her. But I had to.”
 “If you wanted her, why didn’t you let yourself have her?” Taehyung asks, his voice inquisitively puzzled and laced with empathetic pity.  “Why did you have to?” 
 “It was never supposed to be serious,” Jeongguk snaps, his voice vexed and short, like he’s irritated that he has to explain because it should be obvious. “We were never supposed to get as involved or like– as invested as we did. That wasn’t part of the plan–”
 Taehyung retaliates and makes his voice sharp to match. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeongguk. Was the divorce not enough for you to realize that plans don’t mean shit? Was that not enough for you to see that even literal years of planning won’t keep something from falling apart?”
 The shift in the atmosphere could be felt even as he was still speaking. Now that he’s done and it's quiet, the tension is palpable and Taehyung knows he’s so incredibly close to overstepping. He can tell Jeongguk is trying to keep himself calm. The younger has his hands curled into tight fists and he does that tick– the one where he subtly jerks his head to the side, jutting his jaw out firmly. But still, Taehyung continues, although he treads a bit more carefully this time. 
 His voice is quiet and he’s talking at a slower pace than normal like he’s trying to ease Jeongguk into his next point. “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan?”
 It’s not a laugh; the sound that leaves his lips can’t be classified as that– but Jeongguk barks out something. Maybe a scoff? A cackle? Taehyung can’t be sure, but it's an irate, sarcastic, scary thing that lets him know that Jeongguk is fuming, just shy of being absolutely done with him and his shit.
 “Tae, I promise you that if you do not think before you open your fucking mouth again–”
 Taehyung winces and raises his hands in both surrender and defense like he’s trying to placate Jeongguk while also trying to protect himself. “Please– just let me finish?”
 Jeongguk says nothing– the lividity coloring his features is telling enough. And Taehyung should probably do the same: Say nothing and heed the verbal and gestural warnings. Should probably read the room. 
 Naturally, he does not. Instead, choosing to tentatively continue.
 “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan? No. It wasn’t. But!” Taehyung rushes the words out, using the conjunction as a way to let Jeongguk know that he still has more to say and a chance to redeem himself.
  “But– it also didn’t ruin anything. Something happening that isn’t part of the original plan, doesn’t automatically mean the new outcome is going to end up bad.” Taehyung watches Jeongguk’s scowl intensify, but he also sees how his clenched fists lose some of the tension, the veins and tendons becoming more subtle under his tattooed skin. 
 “You ended up with the best thing that’s ever happened to you because things didn’t go according to plan,” Taehyung reiterates, his voice soft, yet stern. 
 There’s a decent lull in the flow of the conversation; enough time for Jeongguk to speak up. Taehyung decides to continue when he doesn’t. 
 “Make all the plans you want, Jeongguk. But you will never be able to plan for everything. It’s impossible because there’s no way for you to know what’s going to happen.” He gives him another chance to say something, but Jeongguk’s lips are pressed in a stubborn line and his jaw is clenched. 
 Taehyung begins again, “You can make all the plans you want but most, if not all, of them, aren’t going to go the way you thought they would or the way you thought you wanted. They’re going to deviate in some way or another because you were planning for something uncertain and constantly changing.”
 “There’s a chance that some of the outcomes will be bad, and that they will hurt so fucking bad. It could end up being the worst thing that ever happens to you. And I get being scared of that. I get why you want to plan, and why you have this ‘one or the other/all or nothing/black and white' mindset. I know it feels safer and like you have more control,” Taehyung sympathizes. 
 “But you have to acknowledge that there’s also a chance that an unplanned outcome can be better than an intended one. It could be the best thing that ever happens to you. It could be a ‘Nari’ outcome.” Taehyung tries for an encouraging smile. “___ might be one of those ‘plans’ that don’t go the way you mean for it to but end up resulting in something better. But you won’t ever know if you don’t let go of some of that control and just let things happen.”
 The sentiment Jeongguk is left with is a bruising, taxing one. It’s making his throat tight and swallowing Taehyung’s notions, a chore. He’s blinking back heavy, angry tears, because he knows that what his friend is saying makes sense. He also knows that it doesn’t really change much of anything because he already let you go.
 “I know that I can’t control everything and that I can’t predict every single outcome,” Jeongguk starts, “But I have to think about things long-term. If I can prevent certain things from occurring, or even encourage some, by planning… Then I have to at least make an effort to. For Nari’s sake.”
 “Well obviously you think long-term about the big picture,” Taehyung agrees. He’s a father too, after all. “But you have to be willing to compromise and adapt along the way. It doesn’t have to be completely all or nothing or as extreme as you think it does. You can change your mind as things happen. Choices aren’t contracts. You can have a change of heart and you can change the quote-unquote, plan.”
 Jeongguk feels his stomach drop at the last part of Taehyung’s statement, feels a little sick actually– so he bypasses it completely, acts like he doesn’t hear it. Instead, he says, “I didn’t do that with ___. Looking back, it feels like I didn’t think about anything long term when I was with her.”
 Taehyung looks at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
 “It was like everything was only as big as her. I only thought ahead when I was thinking about the next time I would see her. I stopped planning and being responsible and I started overlooking what should have been important and–” Jeongguk’s mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s trying to find the words but he ends up just shaking his head, his voice quiet when he goes with, “It was like I wanted her so badly that I got consumed by her because everything felt so good and I was so happy… I didn’t think about anything else. Didn’t think about Nari, I didn’t think about __… I didn’t even think about my future self.”
 Jeongguk’s elbows find their place on the table and he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, before scrubbing his hands down his face, tired and defeated looking when he glances up again. “I forgot that I had priorities like–  I have a baby, a tiny person that is directly dependent on me for everything. I– I can’t just do that.” 
 “Also, I was being so selfish the whole time,” he transitions in an almost panicky tone. He’s rambling, ranting perhaps, with a self-directed, humorless laugh, “And it was so easy to be that way and get lost in her because of how she was. She was so good, Tae. Like carefree, and sweet, and so giving. She made everything so–” 
 His words get cut short. Caught on his heart that’s ballooning; swelling so big in his chest. Filling his pleural cavity with this contrite guilt that’s so sharp it cuts through his brain fog and he becomes so miserably aware of the fact that maybe it was so easy for him to be so selfish –so thoughtless– with you was due to you being so ready and so willing to give him everything– without asking for anything in return. 
 He didn’t have to give to get –and he didn’t mean to, he didn’t do it consciously– but he ended up just taking and taking and taking. 
 The epiphanic dawning makes it sound raw, almost choked when he gets out, “–just so much better and easier.”
 “Gguk–” Taehyung tries.
 “God I was so fucking selfish– like so careless with her,” he repeats. Sounds kind of shocked, surprised with himself. “Like– I knew I had no intention of keeping her. Even if I ended up wanting to, I knew. I always knew I wouldn’t let myself have her like that. And still,” He stresses the word and squeezes his eyes shut and just barely shakes his head, “I still intertwined our lives together so seamlessly and I still–” 
 The atmosphere is heavy and there’s an air of disappointment cloaking Jeongguk’s thoughts and admissions. It’s undeniable that the chagrin is self-directed; displeased with himself not only because of how irresponsible he feels he was –with you and his daughter– but also because of how he’s let the whole situation deplete him. How he let himself get so fixated that he’s only just now recognizing, or maybe admitting, his faults. How he allowed the situation to evolve into something so much bigger and heavier than it should have; exhausting him. 
 Taehyung, who finishes off his glass of wine during the pregnant pause, looks across the table and holds Jeongguk’s gaze for a fleeting moment before he’s shrugging. His tone is listless, lackadaisical as he says, “I don’t think you were being selfish. You said it yourself: You were happy with her. She was happy with you.”
 Jeongguk sits there, flabbergasted and at a loss for words. It feels like he’s falling apart, maybe close to dying even– yet across from him his best friend looks almost bored? Maybe not bored, but stoically calm? Aloof? 
 And Jeongguk knows he’s being sensitive and dramatic and he knows it’s not Taehyung that’s becoming hyperconscious of his past mistakes, but aloof isn’t exactly the reaction he expected after more or less having a breakdown. Jeongguk takes a moment, gathers himself just to become confused again when he catches up to Taehyung’s words. 
 He asks his friend if he means what he said about not thinking that Jeongguk was selfish. Can’t fathom how Taehyung couldn’t see the selfishness of his actions, how he can find him blameless in the situation; when he, himself feels his self-interest was blatant.
 “Based on what you told me, I think you portrayed a lot of…” The older one pauses, eyes looking skyward like he’s searching for the right word. It kind of seems like he’s settling, trying to soften the blow, when he says “...unbecoming qualities.” 
 His shoulders slump at Taehyung’s words, but Jeongguk now deems that he doesn’t need to know how his friend can find him blameless because his friend simply doesn’t. 
 Not that Jeongguk can blame him. 
 “But I don’t think selfishness was one of them because I don't think it’s selfish to prioritize happiness,” he states. “It’s the universal pursuit– everyone wants it…” He squints at Jeongguk, his expression mildly captious. “If anything I think you were more selfish when you ended things.”
 A soft, unbelieving scoff leaves Jeongguk's lips before he can stop it. He recovers by shaking his head. His fingers extend, and he waves his hands around a little like he’s frustrated. “I ended it for her. So she could be free–”
 “So you wanted her to be ‘free’,” Taehyung wiggles his fingers, air-quoting. “but not the kind of ‘free’ where she’s ‘free’ to make her own decisions?”
 “I–” Jeongguk’s mouth snaps shut. He flounders a little before he gives up and settles into a malcontent frown.
 “Do you see what I’m getting at?” Taehyung asks, his tone slightly parental again. Sounds mostly patient, if not, just edging on short.
 Jeongguk’s reply is headstrong silence.
 “You completely snubbed her and overlooked what she wanted to do what you wanted because you thought it was selfless and the right thing–”
 “I didn’t want to–”
 “But you must have?” Taehyung says, his palms open and gesturing in front of him like the proof is plain to see, like it’s right there on the empty table between them. He’s tried to stay patient, keep that calm tolerance. But he’s just over how dreadfully dense his friend is being. His tone is no longer just edging on short– Taehyung’s past that. It’s almost malicious and instigative when he snaps, “Because if you didn’t want to, Jeongguk, then why did you do it?” 
 Jeongguk’s nostrils flare slightly as he tries to not lash out as he counters, “I already told you–”
 “Yeah, you told me a whole bunch of bullshit excuses for not trying.”
 An offended, indignant gasp is the only comeback Jeongguk can give before Taehyung is ranting again, talking over him.
 “Okay,” His gestures go from exasperated to pacifying as he bares his palms to Jeongguk, almost like he’s surrendering. He’s not, of course, but he’ll admit that was a bit harsh. “As I said earlier, I get it. Like yeah. I get being hesitant, I get being scared. I get you feeling guilty for the way that things played out. Those are all totally valid feelings; ways to… act?” 
 Taehyung thinks, then grins when he comes up with a better word. “Those are all valid ways to behave in this situation.” He nods to himself as if he’s his audience and he’s encouraging himself because he’s giving the best speech known to man. 
 “But some emotions and behaviors are not valid in this situation. Entitlement, for one. It’s my opinion that you must have been emoting this quite generously considering how you were acting like it was your right to disregard her. Her feelings, her choices, her wants,” Taehyung points to a finger every time he lists something of yours that Jeongguk overlooked, and Jeongguk shirks in on himself a little more each time. In his head, he sniffs, turns his nose up at Taehyung’s opinion.
 “Self-righteousness. You know a lot. You may even know more, and better than her about certain things, but not all things. You don’t know everything. Jeongguk does not know what __ wants. Jeongguk does not know what is best for ___. Jeongguk may have an opinion on it, but only ___ knows that. What you think is right, isn’t always what is right. Consider what you were coming off as. As a pretentious, arrogant, self-righteous ass. And for what?”
 When Jeongguk parts his lips to speak, to at least try and defend himself, because jesus fucking christ, Taehyung interrupts him. 
 “For nothing. You’re not the standard.”
 Jeongguk purses his lips and allows himself to be talked over, once again, as he shifts feebly in his seat. Wonders when Taehyung's vocabulary became so extensive and mean.  
 “You’re allowed to feel scared, but you’re not allowed to behave like a pussy about it–”
 “I resent that–”
 “–as you should,” Taehyung says without missing a beat, smoothly transitioning back to what he was saying. “You’re being a coward, Gguk. Like point-blank. Taking the easy way out and pushing her away because you’re too afraid to take a risk. Because you don’t have the courage to choose her and try.” His expression is sad, dressed with muted disappointment, maybe a glimmer of pity. “And I guarantee that when you chose easy instead of choosing her– it hurt her. She’s the one you were trying to take care of, but she’s the one you ended up hurting. And you hurt yourself.”
 Taehyung can see how much self-inflicted pain Jeongguk brought on himself when he hurt you. He’s sure it hurt him in the moment too, but retrospectively, it’s written so transparently on Jeongguk’s face. Brows are pinched, mouth slightly parted, shallow exhales puffing out like Taehyung’s words knocked the wind out of him and he’s trying to catch his breath again.
 He shakes his head helplessly, whispers, “I didn’t mean to.”
 “I know you didn’t, and I think she probably knows that too,” Taehyung consoles. 
 He considers leaving it at that, not wanting to come off more lecture-y than he already has. Feels a little bad about being so hard on the younger, too. But he also feels like Jeongguk has so thoroughly convinced himself that he did the right thing. That Jeongguk has done such a good job of gaslighting himself, that he daftly believes ending things with you was for the best. That ending wasn’t just the only conclusion, but it was an unavoidable conclusion. 
 Taehyung wonders if maybe Jeongguk is the one that needs things broken down and spelled out for him to get that he could have done things differently. That if he made alternate choices, there could have been an alternate ending where he didn’t break his own heart. 
 “Jeongguk, you’re a such great dad to Nari. She’s never going to doubt how much you care or how important she is to you because loving her is the thing you're best at,” Taehyung waits just a second before he adds in a gentle voice, “But you’re not just a really great dad, and you’re allowed to prioritize and love other things… other people.”
 Jeongguk starts to shake his head, an argument on the tip of his tongue. Ready to tell Taehyung that of course he’s allowed to love other things and other people. He knows this.
 That wasn’t the issue with you. He knew that with time the desire he had for you likely would have blossomed into something more. If he chose to– he probably could have loved you. Could have kept you for himself, selfishly, just as he wanted to. He could have indulged in you, could have let himself be smothered in everything that came with you. He could have loved you eagerly, and he knows he could have loved you so perfectly. 
 With time, probably.
 If he was just a touch more greedy than he is, he might have allowed himself.
 The issue with you was that he got so immersed in and preoccupied with you that he lost sight of everything else. Let himself get distracted and act in ways that, as a father, he just couldn’t. So while he could have allowed himself to love you, he couldn’t allow himself to become irresponsible. He tells Taehyung as much. 
 “Gguk, that’s just what happens when you find something new to care about. It’s exciting and it feels good,” Taehyung explains gently, “You fuck up and end up making a few mistakes because you’re a little caught up and preoccupied. Your priorities get skewed because there’s something else that’s becoming important to you too, and you haven’t learned how to manage it.” 
 “And yeah, you might get selfish and a little consumed. Immersed. But that’s normal, not irresponsible, and you have to cut yourself some slack while you figure out how to make time for it and work it into your life.”
 There’s a glassiness gleaming in Jeongguk’s eyes, heavy tears welling until there’s just too many. The drops trek freely despite his efforts to keep them in, his cheeks sticky and salty, his nose runny and red, and his shoulders shaking as he attempts to stay collected. 
 It’s quiet and he stutters a little as he gets out, “I-it didn’t feel like this with D–” A deep, guilty shame makes it hard to get her name out.
 Jeongguk doesn’t even try to finish, persisting with, “I’m just s-scared I’m gonna fuck up again, like I did w-” A watery, frustrated groan cuts him off and he puts his hands over his face when he can’t finish his sentence again because of his cries. Like I did with Dasom. Like I’ve already done, and am still doing with you. 
 “Gguk,” Taehyung laughs, trying to lighten the mood, “There’s an adjustment period and it’ll take a bit of trial and error, but you’ll find a new balance.”
 “___ can be important to you at the same time that Nari is important to you at the same time that Dasom is important to you at the same time that you’re important to you. Caring about one thing doesn’t mean that you suddenly begin caring about another thing less. You just care about them in different ways.”
 Jeongguk is trying to compose himself, keeps taking those deep, slightly hiccupy, self-soothing breaths. Holding them in, before blowing them out harshly. Taehyung knows Jeongguk’s almost at his breaking point but he only has a bit left to say.
 “Maybe ___ didn’t know all of the stuff that comes with being with someone who has a kid, and an ex, and a past. Maybe she didn’t fully know what she wanted because of that. But you know what you should have done instead of pushing her away?” he asks gently, “You should have explained it to her. Told her the bad and the good. Because of course, it’s a lot; it’s really, really tough. But it’s also so rewarding, and a privilege.”
 Jeongguk is growing weepier with each passing minute, but he gives a sorry, sapped nod just to show Taehyung he’s listening. 
 “After explaining it to her, you should have given her time to think about it, weigh the pros and cons. You should have waited for her to make her own choice. Then you should have considered what would’ve been best for both of you, what would make you both happiest. From there, you should have decided on the next step together. And then you should have tried.”
 His leg is bouncing under the table and he twists one of the few rings on his fingers. He’s trying to keep his composure but the more Taehyung explains things to him, the more regretfully obtuse Jeongguk feels. 
 Because he very well might be all the things Taehyung said he was– but he is a good version of them. He swears it. And he knows it doesn’t really make sense; that it’s almost impossible to be a good type of entitled and self-righteous. That it’s not believable that his cowardly and pusillanimous actions came from a good place. But to him– they did. He knows what his intentions were, and he knows that they were so pure. That he did what he did because he cared about you. 
 Admitting he was scared, acknowledging that the fear he felt was pure cowardice, is the least he can do. 
 But in his defense, he just didn’t want to learn what it was to have you, just to end up losing you. He didn’t want to discover how it felt to be loved by you, only for that feeling to get replaced with your resentment. He didn’t want to wholly understand the bliss of you being with him when you were there and present, only to forget it once he came to understand the ache of you leaving; when you were gone. 
 Now, however, he sees that he fucked up. Can see how narrow-minded he was. How his actions, no matter the intent, didn’t come across the way he wanted. That the outcome didn’t go as he planned. 
 He’s able to recognize that if a plan can stray and an outcome can change– there can be infinite endings. Good ones, bad ones. Realizes that if pain is possible, so is bliss. Understands that sadness and happiness go hand in hand and that if there’s a chance for one, there’s a chance for the other. 
 It’s kind of black and white, all or nothing, one or the other in its own way. In a way that Jeongguk hasn’t fully grasped yet, but in a way that he wants to try and learn.
 The consequences of his actions and mistakes can be felt physically. It’s a visceral ache, an apologetic longing, an emptiness within him– and it seems like it never goes away. Like there’s this void inside of him that can’t be filled. Like an essential piece of him is lost and has gone missing, leaving a hollow vacancy behind his ribs until he finds it again. 
 He knows it’s melodramatic; that things end between people that care about each other, that they get over it, and that they move on. It happens all the time. Every single day. He knows– because he cared about Dasom, wanted her– and still, he watched his marriage fall apart right in front of him. 
 Jeongguk’s never compared you to her or her to you, and he doesn’t start now. But, he does liken the want; tries to differentiate between the way he wanted her and the way he wants you. 
 Because it’s the same feeling. Want. 
 But it’s distressing; so confusing because he can’t wrap his head around the same fucking feeling not feeling the fucking same. 
 It almost instills an anxious uncertainty within him; causes him to question himself a little because he believed he had a good understanding of what it is to want, of how it feels to desire. An understanding of what comes with all the feelings that are akin, too.​​ What it feels like to lust after, to crave, to yearn for, to long for, to wish for.
 But apparently, he doesn’t.
 Maybe never did.
 Because it seems that the only thing he’s sure of now, when it comes to want, is that wanting Dasom didn’t feel like wanting you does. With you –the want, the desire, the yearning– it’s so different.
 Come to think of it, Jeongguk wouldn’t be surprised if that novel distinction played a part in his hesitance; that it had something to do with why he pushed you away, why he chose to never let himself have you. 
 Somehow, you turned feelings he thought he truly understood into feelings that had a sense of ambiguity to them. Feelings that he was suddenly so unaccustomed to that they seemed almost alien –in that anxiety-riddled self-doubting way– because it felt like he had no experience with them, had no idea how to even begin to approach the different that was you. 
 Taehyung told him he was being a coward. And Jeongguk admitted that yes; he was being a coward. Internally confessed that he was scared to lose you. But as things are falling into place, finally clicking for him, he thinks that the cowardice might have also stemmed from a fear of having you because he didn’t know how to. 
 Because while you were fresh and exciting –making Jeongguk so brash and so eager– that newness subsequently made you so unlike what he was comfortable with and sure about –simultaneously making Jeongguk so reluctant and so scared. 
 Only because different is new and it’s strange and it can seem alienating. Different is simply unfamiliar and anything unfamiliar is always a little, maybe a lot scary. Naturally intimidating and unnerving. 
 He comes to the conclusion that it’s not a comparison. The want. It can’t be, really, because he has nothing to compare it to. He’s never known an appetency as unique as the one he has for you. 
 The varying wants he’s come across during his life and relationships can’t be compared, but they can be different. And they so clearly are, that Jeongguk’s inability to make sense of it is almost embarrassing. His friend telling him that it’s possible for him to care about things in different ways comes to the forefront of his mind. 
 “You can… want things… differently?” 
 Jeongguk feels stupid, so thickheaded because he’s asking for assurance and clarification about concepts that are supposed to be common sense. He wonders when he let his way of thinking get so off-kilter and how many preventable fuck-ups he’s made because of it.
 “Obviously and most definitely.”
 The sheer amount of thinking he’s had to do, and the inordinate number of thoughts he’s had to comb through are taunting him with a headache. Dull pounding edging at his psyche; his mental and emotional capacity almost running on empty. Yet, he’s not sure he could shut his mind off even if he wanted to. 
 He’s on the cusp of it. So close to putting the pieces together. On the brink of figuring out the riddle of you and him that seemed cruelly unsolvable; like a sick joke with no punchline.
 Jeongguk knows that he wanted Dasom. He knows what they had was good, fulfilling, and comfortable in its own way. But in that same breath, he knows that while it may have been good, it was never blissful; that it may have been fulfilling, but it never made him feel full; that even though it may have been comfortable, it never felt warm. He doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it either. He doesn’t want it anymore; hasn’t for what seems like ages.
 When it came to wanting you– Jeongguk didn’t know until he learned. 
 Of course, he knew that what you had was good. What he didn’t know was the extent of how good. Only when he determined that it was so good that it was sublime and unlike any mirth he’d known before, to a degree that he’d never felt before– only then did he learn that what he had with you was bliss. 
 He knew it was fulfilling. That being with you gave him what he needed. Scratched the itch, fed the hunger, served the purpose that a ‘fun and casual’ fling was meant to. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so abundantly and satisfyingly rewarding; until he learned that the fulfillment could reach excess; that he could become so full of you that he was overflowing. 
 He knew it was comfortable– what you had with him. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so serenely content, dreamily domestic– that it could make the comfort become something he could physically feel. Not until he learned that you were the embodiment of comfort; that when he touched you, what he was looking for became tangible. That when he touched you, he was touching the warmth that lived inside of you. 
 He didn’t know humans could be homes until he learned that sensations could be envied. 
 He didn’t know he would regret it; didn’t know he would miss you so much. He didn’t know that the different, unfamiliar, scary want would turn into this habitual, heartsick, delicate yearning.
 Jeongguk didn’t know anything until he learned.
 And he’s learned that he wants to try.
 A rough, choked sound sputters from his throat when he feels a few heavy thumps on his back.
 “There, there,” a voice consoles lazily.
 Jeongguk promptly breaking down and melting into a puddle of tears after admitting he fucked up and wants to try and get you back is enough for a tipsy Taehyung to move from his place across the table to the unoccupied one to the right of the younger. 
 He’s able to peer inside now, his back no longer to the house, and he sees Jimin. He looks a little worried, a wrinkle between his brows as his eyes flit between Taehyung and Jeongguk, who’s got his head down as he cries into his folded arms atop the table. 
 He shoos Jimin, and now Yoongi with a knocked out Solmi on his hip, away with a dismissive flick of his wrist, giving them a look that says: I’ve got this.
 With fingers digging into the sides of Jeongguk’s neck, in a supposed to be soothing way, Taehyung asks, “So what’s the plan, Gguk? Whatcha gonna do to get her back?”
 Another weeping sob is the response he gets.
 He nods to himself. “Right.”
 It’s quiet for a small blip of time before Jeongguk whines, “She never answered my text. She could be dead for all I know, like she could have gotten into a crash or something and it would be all my fault and–”
 “Have you seriously not looked her up to check on her?”
 “–she doesn’t have Facebook– and I would just have to live with that. And I would deserve to live with it. The guilt–”
 “Of course, she doesn’t have Facebook. She’s not ancient,” Taehyung explains with a roll of his eyes as he pulls out his phone from his pocket, “She probably uses Instagram or something. How do you spell her name?”
 Jeongguk’s perked up, his red eyes and splotchy face now curiously peeking over Taehyung’s arm. He quietly spells your name out loud and watches as the letters appear one by one in the search bar. A few profiles get tapped through before Jeongguk’s small, sharp inhale lets Taehyung know he found the right one. He willingly hands over the mobile.
 The account is public, but Jeongguk’s not sure if that’s better or worse as he takes in what your feed consists of. There’s an assortment of things; pictures of yourself, some with your roommates, a few scenery ones to break up the monotony. One or two of the small succulent he gave you.
 There are also some of him. Of Nari.
 He finds his thumb moving on its own, tapping on a photo of tiny hands with tiny painted nails.
 “Don’t accidentally double-tap; that likes the pic and we’re using Iseul’s account.”
 Jeongguk chuckles. “Why do you let your 8-year-olds have phones and social media?” he asks, turning to look at Taehyung, who is still looking at your account. “What happened to playing outside and reading books?”
 “Times are changing Ggukkie,” Taehyung muses, “Landlines hardly exist and I want to be sure that they can reach me, you know? Besides, it has parental controls… If you look at Iseul and Haneul’s followed accounts, it’s all just video game stuff and anime shit…” It’s quiet for just a second before he adds, “They could probably give you some cheat codes and tips since you’ve been spending so much fucking time on the PlayStation lately.”
 Jeongguk’s bony elbow digs into Taehyung’s bony ribs.
 After a small wince, Taehyung asks, “That’s Nari?”
 It’s phrased like a question, but to them, it’s obvious that it’s her. But to anyone else, they would have no clue that the baby is his daughter. The photo was taken from a higher-up angle; besides the baby’s little manicured hands, it’s just her baby-soft, wispy hair pinned back by a teeny pink barrette, and the chub of her rosy cheek visible. He thinks he recalls the day you took it. 
 You had just shown up at his place. No invite, no scheduled plans. 
 When he opened his door, he saw you standing there with your too-small hands holding a too-full make-up bag, and a too-big smile on your too-pleased face declaring that it was the perfect day for a Spa Day. 
 You were determined, and you left little room to argue. He didn’t, of course. But he wouldn’t have either. Not when you were right there on his doorstep, practically buzzing with how excited you had been. You were almost giddy; just so happy and eager to spend time with not only him but also his baby.  
 Jeongguk remembers sneaking little glances at the both of you while he dutifully cut the cucumbers you had asked him to. You were sat on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, and Nari was on the couch in front of you. She had her chunky, stout legs dangling off the edge and her round, little toes right in your face. 
 Bubble Guppies was on the television, so Nari was occupied and mostly still as you painted her nails a bright shade of corally pink. Messing up only once or twice. Just when the baby giggled and clapped her pudgy hands and when she squealed and kicked her plump feet. 
 By the time Nari was put down for the night and tucked snug as a little bug in her bed, you and she were twinning; your salon-done acrylics repainted in the same polish. He remembers clearly because he helped you with your weaker hand. 
 Also because somehow, he ended up matching as well. Funnily enough, you had managed to get him to agree to a single finger of his being painted as well. The pinky on his left hand. 
 Persuasion might have been a talent of yours. Your charmed kisses convinced him, as well as your rapt, eager touches. The conniving sweet-nothings you recited into his ear, were compelling, too. 
 Yeah, maybe you were persuasive. Or maybe Jeongguk was just easy. Always too weak for you. 
 His heart yanks in his chest at the memory and he forces himself to pause the mental replay before it stops being pure and starts being indecent. 
 Jeongguk’s eyes flicker down to the caption.
 spa day 💁‍♀️💅🏻👶🏻🐛👨🏻‍🍼
 He feels the slight shake of Taehyung’s body when he chuckles next to him, and the corners of his own lips turn up too as he opens the comments.
 flickthebinna: did u have a baby? 
ocstagram: not yet… 🤨🤰
flickthebinna: ?
 Heat crawls beneath his skin and his cheeks flush pink and Jeongguk can’t stop the clumsy, confusedly pleased laugh he lets out as he clicks back to your feed. 
 Despite the next picture he taps on being bleary, it’s evident that you’re in a car and that there is a palm resting on your thigh. 
 The car belongs to him, the familiar interior lights of his Mercedes glowing purple in the photo, the luxury logo on the steering wheel too well-known to be mistaken regardless of the quality– or lack thereof. So naturally, the hand on your leg belongs to him, as well. But like the photo of Nari, no one would know who’s hands are on you or who’s the owner of the car you’re in. Except for the person themself. Even the tattoos on his knuckles are indecipherable due to the poor resolution. The picture looks like it may have been taken on accident or while you were moving– grainy and pixelated and motion-blurred. 
 It’s captioned with a simple, eloquent: SKRRRR
 “What does that mean?” Jeongguk mumbles aloud, moving to the comments again.
 Taehyung hums next to him. “An onomatopoeia for the sound a car makes, I think.”
 He grunts in acknowledgment as he reads.
 jadedjade: that is a sugar daddy car if i ever seen one 🕵️‍♀️🧐
ocstagram: he’s not my sugar daddy 🙄🤚
ocstagram: he’s my best friend 😌👍
flickthebinna: ok but can he fight 
 Jeongguk finds himself smiling again, but this time it’s a little sad too. It was posted just a couple of months ago. Reminds him that regardless of how drawn out it feels like it’s been, in reality, you haven’t actually been away from him for that long at all. Makes him recall how quickly something good can go bad.
 The cellphone gets plucked from his hands by Taehyung, who’s sensed the change in ambiance. “I think that is enough checking in for tonight,” he says.
 Jeongguk doesn’t put up much of a fight, instead sighing and looking towards Namjoon’s place again. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but inside he sees it’s been long enough for the group to wind down. Almost everyone gathered in the living room, something playing on the tv. Probably one of the many Christmas movies that get played far too soon after Turkey Day. Hoseok’s got Nari on his lap, and one of the twins tucked into his other side.
 “I’m surprised Nari’s still awake,” he muses.
 “You know she’s fighting it, trying to hang with the big kids.”
 “Gonna be very grouchy in the morning,” Jeongguk groans. The annoyance is feigned though, and the smile in his voice gives him away.
 Taehyung laughs lightly for a moment before he’s yawning, his words jumbled and rolled together he tries to get out, “I’ll pull your Secret Santa name; let me take her for the night.”
 Jeongguk is an expert at understanding hard-to-decipher words, so he knows what was said and is quick to say no.
 “C’mon,” Taehyung presses, “Just for tonight. She’ll be fine, and you could use some time by yourself.”
 “I have time by myself every other week.” 
 It’s quiet for a couple of beats before Jeongguk is saying, “The answer is still no, but why do you think I could use some alone time?” 
 With shoulders brushing his ears, Taehyung shrugs. “You just worked through a lot of tough stuff. The alone time could be a good opportunity to sort through everything.”
 Jeongguk hums. 
 “You could start thinking about what you’re going to do about ___. What the first step is, what you’re gonna say.” 
 Taehyung takes a second to look at Jeongguk’s profile. It’s quick, and the latter attempts to keep his face neutral, but the tense way the corners of his lips pull down isn’t missed.  Jeongguk can’t mask the hesitant unease, and Taehyung has enough social awareness to pick up on it and know that it probably means that Jeongguk might not be ready for that just yet.
 “Or… Or you could… cry yourself to sleep?” he tries. He thinks for a split second before he decides to run with it. “I know you’ve like– been crying, but if you were alone? You could really let go, you know? Wouldn’t have to hold back like you’ve been trying to.”
 Taehyung is met with an expression that is not only unconvinced but also unamused. 
 He is nothing if not resilient, though. “Or you could even jerk off to that video you have of the both of you! You could moan, Gguk. Loud.”
 “Oh– I don’t– the video um, I haven’t–” Jeongguk sputters, trying to deny the use of said video. His hands waving to and fro a bit, hectic. An uncomfortable tinge to his features.
 It’s true, though. He doesn’t use it. Hasn’t even once since the fight. He figures he might as well delete the video. It makes sense, especially if he doesn’t watch it. Figures it should have already been deleted. That would have been the right thing to do. Figures he’s only human, too.
 “I did not ask, and I do not want to know. Nor do I care,” Taehyung interrupts, “Just think about it, though. A loud, lewd, lascivious, lecherous jer–”
 Almost like he forgets his momentary embarrassment, Jeongguk’s expression veers straight from uncomfortable to unbelievably judgemental. If the look on his face could speak, it would be telling Taehyung that he is stupid. “I can literally jerk off –loudly– 2 weeks out of the month. Are you daft?”  
 “Intelligence is subjective,” Taehyung’s bony fingers flick outward dismissively, “But my insistence is not! C’mon, don’t be selfish,” he pouts for emphasis, “If I take Nari tonight, I can use her to get the boys to sleep early. Can pull the old ‘baby’s bedtime is everyone’s bedtime’ card.” 
 Jeongguk presses his lips firmly together, fighting a smile, but they quirk up at the corners in spite of himself. “You’re a bad dad.”
 Taehyung grins back, mischievous. He makes his voice stern and comically parental. “ ‘We all have to sleep when the baby sleeps. We don’t want to wake her up and ruin her dreams, do we?’ ”
 They laugh softly together before it naturally dies off, the atmosphere back to being more or less mellow and light. 
 “I know you, Gguk,” Taehyung starts, “And I know that you don’t need a break. But I also know that a break wouldn’t hurt. Might even do you some good. Sneak away now while she’s occupied,” he encourages, “You know she’ll cry if you say bye.”
 Jeongguk frowns as he feels himself giving in. Admitting that he is tired. Considering that it might be nice to be able to go home and head straight to bed without the time-consuming dad routine. He loves it, of course, and he’ll miss doing it– but after the night he’s had? He feels a little bad but tries to soften the guilt by thinking about what Taehyung said. The thing about him being important to himself, too. 
 He looks back to the house again, eyes scanning till they land on his baby. She’s slumped, clearly tired and he thinks she may be asleep already but then Nari yawns, a tiny balled-up fist coming up to rub at her eye.
 Jeongguk smiles, soft and wistful. Before his brows are furrowing and he’s turning back to his friend with an appalled, accusatory glare. Taehyung’s previous heartfelt advice coming to mind reminds him of something else his friend said. Something less heartfelt.
  “Wait– the video? How did you–?”
The feel of his bedding brushing against his skin makes him shiver. Causes frissons– excited little chills blooming all across his body. He kicks, trying to maneuver the sheet down and down until it’s off of him. Repeats the actions once more but with his briefs, now. Down and down until they’re off of him and he’s bare.
 Jeongguk’s home is quiet. A little cold. 
 This time, it’s the brisk, air-conditioned draft in his bedroom that creates those chills. The bumps are small, just barely raised. Could only be seen by someone who looked at him closely enough; felt by someone who touched him aptly enough. 
 His exhales are stuttered and sharp as his body trembles; the constant tremor is faint, almost imperceptible, and caused by the lust simmering just under his skin. His lashes kiss the highs of his cheeks as he blinks his eyes shut; a worthless attempt at grounding himself. His lips grow damp as the pink of his tongue darts over them quickly; something he naturally does when he gets worked up like this.
 His thoughts are running rampant as he thinks about all the unintentional things he’s doing, all of the visceral reactions he’s having. About those bumps on his skin. 
 Jeongguk thinks about how the restless waver of his breathing and the overwhelmed fluttering of his lashes and the antsy way he’s licking over his lips and the minute, barely-there texturing of his skin– how all of those things are just little ways that what’s inside of him is coming out; how it’s becoming. 
 It shows how intense and how keen the arousal stirring within him truly is. So charged and carnal that it’s emerging as actions that are eager and visible; as reactions that are hot and tangible. So real it can be seen; touched.  
 Going straight home and straight to bed– that was Jeongguk’s intention. He swears it; swears he was just so tired. Swears that he almost bypassed doing his skincare and brushing his teeth completely in favor of succumbing to tiredness. Swears was so truly drained from the night and from how much he ended up missing you, thinking about you. And from how, at some point during the night, missing and thinking meshed until they blurred into exhaustion. 
 Sleep was supposed to have been instantaneous. As soon as he laid down in his too-big, too-empty bed inside of his quiet, cold home– he was supposed to have been down for the count. 
 But his home is as lonely as it is quiet.
And lonely people do lonely things.
They think lonely thoughts that are actually just memories of times when they weren’t lonely at all.
Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever felt lonely with you.
And he wants you as much as he misses you.
His fingers shake with it as he finally wraps a hand around himself. Cock laying flat on his tummy, heavy and hot. It’s dark in his room, but he’s flushed probably. Leaking definitely. 
 The tip of his tongue swipes over his lips again before he nibbles on the inside, contemplative as he rubs his index finger on the wet head, teasing. Pulls the plump of his bottom lip between his teeth completely; makes a conscious effort to stay aware enough to not gnaw them raw. But in the back of his head, he knows it’s for naught. When he wakes up tomorrow it will be with red bitten lips and a guilty conscience. 
 Hell, Jeongguk’s guilty now.
 Everything about him depicts it. 
 His mannerisms are already cloaked in shame and it’s only just started.
 From the way he turns his face into his shoulder when he finally completes that first, full stroke. Foreskin dragging when his hand goes from tip to base. The soft thump of the outside of his fist hitting his lower belly sounds so loud– vulgar in the hushed space. 
 To the way he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that small white spots begin to come and go in the dark– as if he thinks he might be able to block out all of the sordid things he’s imagining if he tries hard enough.
 Twisting on the upstroke has him rolling his lips between his teeth before he ends up parting his mouth and voicing the softest, most sweet-sounding sighs. The lilting breaths are pretty and whiny even to Jeongguk’s own ears and he feels himself grow warm with a flush. 
 When the tip of his cock spits out a few heavy drops of precum so soon, he gets almost flustered. His demure, wanton sighs quickly shift to meek, bashful whimpers.
 Because it’s embarrassing. Just how fast the mere thought of you gets him going; so hot and so bothered. 
 The pace of his palm is fast, pumping up and down the length of his cock. Instinctually chasing that high as slick clicking noises get louder, audibly mixing with his moans, the rustling of his movements. The first hint of that telltale heat flickers in his lower belly faster than he expects and faster than he hopes. 
 He doesn’t want it to end already. Reasons that if he’s going to give in to this again –into getting off with nothing but the thought of you to finish him, into stomaching the consequential regret that comes after he cums– he wants it to at least be worth it. Wants to milk it and make the pleasure last as long as possible. 
 So he clings to his last bit of self-indulgent resolve. Takes his hand off and moves it away. 
 Precum’s just pouring from the slit when his cock snaps back to his tensed belly; leaking enough that the pink head makes a lewd slap when it hits his skin. He’s hard enough that the tip rests just below his belly button. 
 Jeongguk lays still for a few, letting the needy ache in his gut settle as he puffs out soft pants. Trails his nails lazily over his skin; a gesture that taunts him as much as it gets him ready. Warming him up for his own touch again.
 He’s sifting through his memories of you when he gives in and allows himself just a few small squeezes over his length. His grip tight and pulsing. Not quite edging, but… playing. Indulging maybe; sating moreso. 
 Trying to take the edge off just enough to prolong the pleasure and drag it out as he thinks back to the time he got you off with just his hand in your panties, his fingers toying with your clit. 
 It was sleepy and slow, soft in the way that morning playtime always was with you. Him returning the favor; taking care of you after you took care of him. 
 Started with him quietly reminding you of how good you made him feel the night before. Him sweetly kissing praise into your still-warm-with-sleep skin. Finished with you rocking into his touch until you came quietly for him. You remembering to thank him after, your words whispered sweetly in an airy, far-away tone.
 Jeongguk begins to stroke gently then. Just lightly touching with only his fingertips as he thinks some more. Until he ends up lingering on the first time he had you. 
 The memory prompts another shame-riddled rush to surge through him. He recalls how he braced himself on the newly-decorated wall behind him when you pressed your hand against him, his hips rutting and grinding into your small palm. How the wall supported him while he finished so quickly, too quickly. How it held him up while he came, making such a mess in his pants. 
 Recalls how you had to brace yourself on the same wall when he got down on his knees for you and tasted your cunt for the first of many times, his lips sucking and his tongue licking. How the wall supported you, just like it did him, while you squirmed so impatiently, so greedily. How it held you up while you came, just like it did him, making such a mess of him all over again
 The paint on the wall behind you had barely had enough time to dry. Was wet still on the opposite side of the room. 
 The opposite side of his daughter’s room. 
 God, it’s sick. So perverse and deviant and just wrong, but there’s something to say about how badly he must have wanted you. How terribly he must have needed you to take you like that, in that setting. 
 Then Jeongguk’s letting go. Letting his thick, engorged length drop to his abdomen.
 The heavy way his cock flops back down when he eases the tension in his hold– it doesn’t really hurt… it’s not exactly painful when it thumps against his tensed tummy again. It feels more like a muted, dull pang in his cock. Almost pleasant? It feels good if anything– but the general sensation reminds him of a time he ached. A time when his cock actually did hurt. 
 It’s the time he had you at his work, against his desk. After you had him in his office chair. 
 Jeongguk can’t stop his cock from kicking and twitching when shivers run down his body– it’s a natural reaction, mostly. Kind of like how his hands going up to tweak his nipples is mostly a natural reaction, too.
 You had asked him before– if there had ever been a time when he was too worked up, if he’d ever felt so good that it became too good, if you could be the one to make him that way. It was an offhand, spur-of-the-moment comment; he figured it was just dirty talk. Nothing more than racy words spoken to turn an already heated phone call into one that was even hotter. 
 So he went along with it and told you that no, he hadn’t ever been too worked up or felt too good. Humored you and promised that yes, the first one to ever make him feel so good that it was too good, too much, could be you.
 Then the phone call ended, and he hung up, and he pretty much forgot about it
 Until now, that is. 
 Something’s got him stuck on that conversation and something’s got him linking it back to that time in his office. 
 He wonders if maybe that wasn’t just you ‘getting back at him’ for the work party because you were ‘mad at him’. Wonders if making him ask permission, getting him to beg, riding him till he came, not stopping even after he did… was really you trying to live out the phone call. 
 Was that the first time he felt so good that it was too much? That it hurt?
 But as soon as he entertains the possibility, he has second thoughts. Reconsiders and thinks about how that might have been nothing. Yeah it was too much, and it hurt, but he has no clue what you meant by wanting to ‘take care of him’ or ‘have your way with him’. That time in his office could have just been the beginning, just you going easy on him, barely anything.  
 A soft moan he can’t hold back colors the air.
 What would have happened if he hadn’t been able to break those cuffs and get the upper hand back?
 Would you have kept going? Was that your intention all along? Did he ruin your plan when he got his hand around your neck? What would it have felt like if you had just kept going and going and–
 Jeongguk must have subconsciously moved his hand from toying with his nipples back to stroking his cock because he doesn’t remember choosing to do so. But he doesn’t correct himself and he doesn’t stop either because he’s jerking his cock fast– just as fast as his heart is pounding and it feels so nice. So fucking nice that he thinks it’s gonna make him cum.
 And he wants to cum, but he knows he wants it to last more.
 So he tries to keep himself together with a tight squeeze at the base of his cock before he pulls his hand away. His cock throbs, jumps slightly before pulling tight to his belly.  
 He’s worked up so he’s squirming a little and taking deep breaths that come out a little shaky. His hands are shaky too when he brings them above his head to tug at the pillow underneath him just to keep them off of his body.
 Would it have just kept hurting? If you had kept going? Would it have just kept getting worse until it became too much? Or would it have started to feel good again? Even better maybe? 
 Jeongguk’s fingers dig into the down of the pillow, and he turns his head into his arm trying to muffle his whine. His hips pull down, dipping into the mattress before slowly rolling into the air, into nothing. The breaths he pants against his bicep are hot, and when he sinks his teeth into the meat of it he does it hard enough for it to hurt just a hint.
 Because fuck– he doesn’t think he’s ever been this affected. 
 Sure he’s been horny, worked up, turned on. Whatever. 
 But bucking into nothing? Whining like he’s in heat? Trembling and leaking and entertaining things that had never even crossed his mind before? 
 No, he’s never lost himself in lust enough for that to happen.
 It seems there’s a first time for everything, however. 
 And maybe that’s what it is. Having a first with you. Trying something new for the first time, learning new ways to please, and make each other feel good. You being his only experience, and him being yours. Knowing each other in ways that nobody else does. 
 There’s a newfound urgency to the way he makes a move for his cock again. A flawed clumsiness to the way his fingers stumble when they get caught on his sticky skin due to his haste. An almost inexperienced awkwardness to the way he fumbles when can’t seem to get a good grip on himself due to his eagerness. 
 Because the way his heart starts pounding faster in his chest, and the way he has to grip at the base of his cock and keep himself in check again is so telling and oh, he’s so sure that’s what’s got him like this. Sweaty and wanton, antsy in his too-big, empty bed with one hand pumping his dribbling cock, and the other reaching between his legs to palm at his balls, his fingers reaching down farther to press and rub against his taint. 
 Yeah, he was worked up before; his memories of you enough to get him hard and panting. But they weren’t enough to shake that guilt. 
 When he started to wonder, though? When he got curious enough to flirt with the idea of you being the first one to make him feel so good, that it was too good, till it was too much? When he began to fantasize about it? That’s when he got shameless. 
 As soon as he cums, so will the guilt. That’s a given and he’s well aware. But right now, the want is making him feel almost feverish, depraved and he’s touching himself with hands that are so greedy, so self-serving. Unblushingly selfish for his pleasure as he imagines it’s you touching him.  
 “Ah– nngghhh, fuck–” he gasps, but it’s soft. His voice breathy and faint.
 In his head, you’re being a little mean. Your hand on his cock is loose, teasing, and lazy. Giving him just enough to feel like he needs to cum, but not enough to make him cum. 
 “It’s okay,” you tell him, “you can use me, make yourself cum…”
 It sounds sweet because it’s you, but even that is laced with something snide. It’s almost mocking. And his head is spinning because it mirrors so many of the times he’s had you, but it’s so different because right now, in his head, you’re the one that’s deciding, controlling. Telling him when its okay to cum, how to cum, letting him cum. 
 His fist is loose, just like yours is in his head, and he fucks up into it, his foreskin dragging with every push and pull. The fingers of his other hand are still toying with his hole, grazing the cinched muscle every time his hips rock into his hand, but he’s trying to mimic the way he thinks you would play with him; his touch deliberately gentle, a little curious. 
 When he’s just rocking his hips, the rhythmic brushing over his taint and his hole is teasing. But when he starts to get eager and needy and begins fucking his hand faster, the sensation is almost constant– feels so good paired with his thrusts, his thoughts.
 And Jeongguk’s gonna fucking cum. So close after all the teasing and edging and playing with himself that he’s done– its inevitable, now. His balls pulled tight and his cock rock hard in his hand. Wet and drippy and swollen and so sensitive.  
 His body is so tense that he’s shaking, his sweaty chest flushed and heaving stuttery inhales as he works for it. 
 “Oh my god– please–” Jeongguk pleads softly with himself, his body. You. His voice is laced with a desperation he’s never heard before. 
 The burst of precum that shoots from the head is enough to know that he’s there, that he couldn’t stop it now, even if he wanted to. He feels that pull in his lower belly, and his cock fattens up even more, gets even harder and Jeongguk knows its flushed such an angry shade of pink. And fuck it’s such a steady build-up. When he thinks it feels good it just gets better. 
 “Yes, yeah–” he pants.
 Jeongguk’s mouth parts in a small ‘o’, and his brows knit together and his eyes are squeezed shut so tight and if he concentrates he can picture you– can visualize your tiny hand wrapped around him bringing him closer and closer. Can imagine how focused you are as you go between looking at his face and his cock. Can almost hear your voice in his ear when you tell him that he was so good, that he can cum.
 He’s able to get out a choked, “Cumming, I’m cumming–” before finishes. His body convulses, curling in on himself a little more each time his cock jerks, shooting hot, thick stripes of white up his abs. His orgasm gives him that spacey high, makes him almost lightheaded from how satisfying it is. 
 But lately, getting off is nothing if not a routine. 
 Jeongguk feels a very specific and familiar type of heaviness as he pats around to find his briefs, does a half-assed job of cleaning himself up with them. Then he moves to the other side of his bed where the sheets are cooler and not damp with sweat. Cuts the routine short with a dry-swallowed sleeping pill. 
hey... long time no see... am i right... anyway yeah im probably knocked out w a sleeping pill too right about neow bc i am sooo scared about posting this :)) gah v nervewracking i must say... ik it was a bit wordy but i just rly wanted to explain why jk did what he did n his thought process for it n yeah </3 hoping to have part 2 (oc pov/reconciliation <3) out in the next couple weeks, am like halfway done w it....  anyway i rly hope u liked it!! pls pls pls like, reblog, comment, send an ask if u did~~ eager to know what u guys thought n would love to hear from u okayyy bye! 
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idyllic-ghost · 2 months ago
just ask; wonwoo x fem!reader
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request: hi, is it possible for you to write a wonwoo smut? pairing fem reader and gamer boyfriend wonwoo? ofc fine if not, but ty if u do! <3
synopsis: you're not very good at asking for things, especially not of the sexual kind. but maybe you can be driven to a point where you simply have to ask.
a/n: hiiii this took super long to write bc i got a mini-writers-block in the middle of it. i'm sorry if it feels super awkward at some points.
cw: unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), begging, praise, use of pet names
genre: smut, established relationship
word count: 4.2k
.⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆☂˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
Wonwoo wasn't a neglective boyfriend. In fact, he spent a lot of his attention on you. He enjoyed spending time with you, doting on you, buying you gifts, and doing anything else you would love for your boyfriend to do. But Wonwoo also has other interests, like any ordinary human person. That isn't your problem, per se. You liked that he had other hobbies, that you could be two individuals who weren't constantly dependent on one another... but right now, you felt a bit dependent on him.
No, Wonwoo wasn't a neglective boyfriend, but right now, he was neglecting you - even if it was unintentional. While you were withering away on the bed, he was in your shared office where he had put up his gaming set-up. You loved that he played with his friends, and it was good that he interacted with people - is what you kept repeating in your head while you tried to suppress that static feeling rippling up in your lower stomach. You were immensely horny because of an event this morning, which Wonwoo had somehow completely forgotten about.
Your eyes had fluttered open to see him sleeping beside you. His bare, broad chest was on display for you, as the covers were only dragged up to the middle of his torse. There was only one thought in your brain as you reached out your hand to touch him. In his tired, still half-asleep state, he brought you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck.
"Good morning, love.", his voice was raspy, it made you feel dizzy.
Your fingers went to the nape of his neck, from where they then traveled to his hair. A content sigh escaped your lips as Wonwoo placed soft kisses all over your neck.
"Is my baby feeling a bit needy today?", he laughed lazily as you tried to press yourself closer to him.
"Mhm...", you hummed, "You looked so good, so, how could I resist?"
He looked up at you, squinting ever so slightly because he still hadn't gotten his glasses from the nightstand, and gave you a tired smile. It was his thanks for the compliment.
"I'm sorry, love, I really have to leave as soon as possible.", he shifted around in bed before he sat up.
Before you could start whining and complaining, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. You watched him put on his glasses and walk over to the dresser to find some clothes for the day.
"I promise that I'll give you some extra attention when I get home tonight, okay?", he said when he saw your disappointed expression.
"I'll keep you to that.", you said and went back to sleep.
You hadn't kept him to it. He came home, the two of you ate dinner together, and you said you wanted to go to bed. He just kissed your cheek and said goodnight. It left you confused and somewhat irritated, but he couldn't exactly read your mind, so how could you blame him. You had trouble with telling him what you wanted. It felt embarrassing to admit having needs for some reason. While it was something that you both had actively worked on, you hadn't ever initiated something on your own. He always had to encourage you to tell him what it was you needed. It was fun, but you still felt embarrassed to ask for something so out of the blue.
Which is why you were walking back and forth in front of the office door. Blue light streamed out of the crack in the door, and you could hear Wonwoo talking into his headset. His voice was low and raspy, just like this morning, and it definitely didn't help your state of mind. Your fingers gripped at the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was Wonwoo's shirt. One that you had stolen from his wardrobe earlier this evening. You had wanted to be bold, so you were only wearing a pair of black, lacy panties underneath - which you knew were his favorite of yours - but now you were regretting it a bit. Maybe it was a dumb idea, and you should just go to bed. But you wouldn't be able to sleep much if you went to bed now anyway.
"Baby? Is that you?", you heard Wonwoo call out for you.
You peeked your head through the door after opening it ever so slightly. His eyes met yours. He looked tired, but he was still smiling warmly at you.
"Thought I heard someone outside...", he muttered and motioned for you to come in, "You can sit with me if you can't sleep."
Usually, it was precisely what you needed - but not right now. You didn't say a word. Instead, you just went to sit by your desk. Wonwoo turned his gaming chair around to look at you, looking a bit confused. As if it were the most obvious thing ever, he patted his lap to signal for you to sit there instead. Your office chair was safe. There you could wriggle around uncomfortably as you watched Wonwoo tap away at his keyboard. He would never know that you were struggling if you sat in your chair, but of course, he didn't want you to sit there. Whenever you had trouble sleeping, you would come into the office and sit on his lap. It was your routine, and Wonwoo didn't break routines. Hesitantly, you made your way over to him.
"I don't want to interrupt your game...", you mumbled as an excuse.
"You're not.", he said casually, "We're in the waiting lobby right now, and I turned the mic off. I'm just going to play one more round and then I can take you to bed."
His hands were on your waist, pulling you in closer and urging you to sit down on his lap. You knew he loved to have you sit there while he played since he had frequently called you his little blanket. Right now you weren't his little blanket, you were just his incredibly horny girlfriend, and you just wanted him to see that without any questions asked.
"Come on, baby.", he interrupted your racing thoughts, "I really don't mind, okay?"
Of course, he would worry about you feeling like you were being clingy. For someone so good at reading people, he really couldn't read you at all. Or maybe he could, and this was all some sort of game. You couldn't think much longer because he pulled you closer and made you sit down. Usually, you would sit with both your legs across his, but now he managed to sit you down in a straddling position. Wonwoo was going to be the death of you.
"There you go, sweetheart.", he muttered as he turned his attention back to the game, "I'm turning the mic back on, okay?"
You hummed because that's all you could manage to do. Wonwoo was so close, yet so far away, from where you needed him most. Instinctively, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. After turning on his mic, his hands traveled back to your waist to keep you steady while he adjusted himself in the chair.
"Sorry about that, I just had to take care of something.", he said to his friends.
As he adjusted himself, his crotch just barely brushed against your core. You let out a whimper and pushed yourself deeper into the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide it.
"Ugh, don't tell me-", you heard a disgusted voice through his headset followed by many people laughing.
"Wait one more second...", Wonwoo sighed and turned off his headset again.
He gently peeled your head away from him so that he could look at you. Your face was bright red, and it only got worse when you met his eyes.
"Are you okay?", he asked with a knowing smile.
"I'm fine.", you squeaked out.
"Are you sure, baby?", his smile became smugger, "You don't need me to take care of you?"
One of his hands went from your waist to the hem of your shirt to creep up under it. You sighed at his touch, trying to put your head back into the crook of his neck. Wonwoo only pushed you back to keep you looking at him.
"I know you need something...", he sucked in a sharp breath as he took a look at the panties you were wearing, "And you're very clever, but that's not going to fly with me, sweetheart. You know you have to tell me if you want something."
"... could you turn off the game?", you asked.
"Of course, baby.", he turned his mic back on, "Hey, I have to go... I'm sure you can win the next round without me, right?"
Many complaints were heard through the headset, but Wonwoo only chuckled and started turning everything off. Inside, he was burning up, but he was trying to keep calm in front of you. He wanted you to feel comfortable asking for things, and if he constantly took control, you wouldn't get to practice that. Now you were looking like you were about to explode, and while Wonwoo didn't like that you couldn't ask for things, he definitely enjoyed teasing you about it.
"Turned everything off for you, love.", he hummed, "Can you tell me what you want now?"
"I want...", you trailed off and started to play with the neckline of his shirt, to keep yourself distracted.
The room was dark now, the only light coming from outside the office. It acted as a reminder that you hadn't turned off the lights in the bedroom.
"Do you want to go to bed with me?", he asked with faux innocence printed all over his face, "Want me to hold you until you fall asleep, hm?"
Any other day, this would've sounded like a complete dream. Right now, he was just a little bit off the mark.
"Not exactly...", you cleared your throat, "But I do want to go to the bedroom."
"Then let's go."
Wonwoo lifted you up. You let out a yelp and quickly wrapped your arms around his neck to stay stable. He walked through the apartment, and when he got to the bedroom, he put you down on the bed. Wonwoo already knew what you wanted, so it wasn't weird of him to turn off the lights and pull his shirt over his head.
"Can you tell me now, princess?", he asked sweetly as he tossed his shirt to the side.
You were sitting at the edge of the bed, your feet touching the floor. Wonwoo crouched down in front of you, settling himself between your legs and leaning his cheek to the inside of your thigh. He was waiting.
"Well, it's about this morning...", you mumbled, "You promised that you would..."
"Sorry, honey, I can't hear you.", he planted a quick kiss on your thigh, "Please speak up for me."
"You kind of... left me hanging this morning.", you said as your face turned bright red, "And I tried to just... fix it by myself, but-"
An exasperated sigh escaped your throat and you covered your warm face with your hands. You could hear Wonwoo snickering, and you wanted to shut him up.
"I want you.", you said and put your hands back down, "And you said that you would when you got home, but you didn't."
"I'm sorry, love.", he said with a heartwarming smile, "Just use your words, and I'll do whatever you ask of me now."
Whatever you ask. That was a big promise.
"Could you kiss me, then?", you smiled at him.
He was very close to starting laughing at you. Out of everything you could've asked for, you wanted a kiss. But it was progress, and he couldn't deny you anything when he had promised to do whatever you asked. So he stood back up, gently pushing you to lie down with your back on the mattress, and took off his glasses. When Wonwoo's lips met yours, you couldn't help but let out a content hum. He was soft and careful, and you wanted just a little more. Your arms wrapped around his neck again to bring him in closer. One of his hands was on your waist, while the other one cupped your face.
"I want more.", you murmured against his lips once you got the courage.
"Yeah?", he placed another kiss on the corner of your mouth.
"Mhm...", you hummed as he pressed more kisses down your neck and collarbone area, "Could you... I want you to eat me out."
Wonwoo almost choked on nothing, you had never been quite this forward... but he definitely enjoyed it.
"Anything for you, my love.", he grinned and placed a peck on your lips before traveling south down your body.
Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth as his pointer finger slipped under the band of your panties. Wonwoo was back in the position he was in before, crouched in front of you. His finger left the hem of your underwear as he let his thumb graze your clothed core.
"My poor baby...", he cooed as he felt the wet patch on the fabric, "You really got yourself worked up."
"I tried to tell you...", you twitched under him as his thumb accidentally grazed your clit.
Wonwoo's pointer finger was back under the hem of your lingerie, but this time it was to slide them down your legs. A few kisses were placed against inside your thighs while Wonwoo was spreading them apart before you felt him blowing cool air on your pussy.
"Wonwoo...", you whined and wiggled your hips.
"I know, I know, baby...", he said.
When you first felt his tongue on you, a whimper fell out of your mouth, and you instinctively tried to close your legs again. With gentle yet demanding hands, Wonwoo pulled them back apart.
"I have barely done anything, sweetheart.", he chuckled almost devilishly, "Stop squirming for me, okay?"
You only nodded because that's all you could muster. As Wonwoo laid his tongue flat against you, your mouth fell open in a silent plea. He kept his ministrations at a steady pace, making you fall into a rhythm of grinding on his tongue. To stop you from moving, Wonwoo put his arm over your hips so that he could start sucking on your clit, pushing your shirt up ever so slightly in the process. Your hands went from gripping the sheets to holding onto Wonwoo's hair, trying to get him closer.
"It feels so good...", you whined in between soft gasps.
It felt like you were flying as if your back was no longer touching the soft sheets on the bed. The static you had previously felt in your stomach started becoming clearer, turning into a coil that was about to snap. You tried to move again, but Wonwoo was holding you in place. Suddenly, he pulled away and replaced his tongue with his fingers, not letting your climax slip away from you.
"Baby, please...", your voice went hoarse as you whispered out the words in a prayer, "... need your tongue..."
"Beg for it.", he pressed a few kisses to your thighs.
For the first time in a while, you looked at him. The lower half of his face was covered in your juices, his pupils completely blown out, and his hair a complete wreck from your relentless pulling. There was a familiar look in his eyes, he wanted to make a mess of you.
"Please...", you whimpered as he kept rubbing his fingers on your clit.
"I'll need a little more than that, sweetheart...", he started slowing down the pace of his fingers.
"No, no, no...", you whined, "Please don't slow down... I want you to make me cum, please make me cum."
"Such a good girl.", he praised.
And so his lips were back on your clit. The fingers that had previously rubbed at your clit, now covered in your slick, were starting to prod at your hole. As he pushed inside, you let out a loud moan, slapping your hand over your mouth as a reaction. Wonwoo didn't have the time to tell you to make as much noise as you wanted to, as he was all too focused on getting you to reach your orgasm. It was overwhelming, he was everywhere, and all you could feel was him and that damn coil in the pit of your stomach. You pulled on his hair again, and he groaned against you in response, the vibrations of his voice sending you over the edge. As you spasmed and wriggled around, he held you down and let you ride out your orgasm over his face. After you had calmed down, he placed a few kisses along your hips, trailing them up your body and pushing up your shirt in the process.
"Thank you...", you mumbled out in your delirious state.
"You did so well for me, sweetheart.", he murmured against your skin, "Help me get this off, yeah?"
With Wonwoo's hand supporting your back, you sat up and pulled off the shirt. When you had thrown it to the side he laid you back down. His kisses didn't stop, his soft lips soothing you as your breath got back to its original rhythm.
"Let's get you comfortable.", he said, mostly to himself, as he helped you shuffle up the bed to lay your head against the pillows.
You took his face in your hands and brought him in for a kiss. He smiled against your lips, pulling away just a few seconds later. When you looked up at him, you saw the most beautiful piece of art your eyes had ever had the pleasure to witness. With much effort, you leaned up and placed many pecks all across his face in between giggles. Wonwoo's eyes were shut tight, as he let out a breathy laugh at your behavior.
"Do you want to go to bed?", he asked when you laid back down, "I don't mind if you're too tired to keep going, you know."
You shook your head and gave him a small smile. Everything about this moment made it seem like you were floating on a cloud; the fluffy sheets, the warm feeling in your chest, the high that you were still coming down from, et cetera.
"Words, darling.", he chuckled and put his face in the crook of your neck.
"I want you.", you said as you drew small patterns on his back, "And I want to keep going."
Wonwoo hummed, confirming that he had heard you, and placed some kisses on your neck and collar bone area. The two of you laid there for a while, relishing in each other's touch and scent. There was no rush to get it over with.
"Talk to me, love.", he said and leaned on his elbows that encapsulated your head, "What do you want me to do?"
"I just want you inside of me...", you whispered out, and when he reached for the bedside table, you added, "No condom."
He raised his brows at you, looking for any sort of hesitation in your eyes. There was none.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm on birth control... I started it a few weeks ago, I just forgot to tell you", you assured him, "I want to feel you cum inside me."
"Since when did you become such a dirty girl?", he chuckled and pressed a few more kisses to your jawline, "I don't mind, of course... but keeping secrets from me... that deserves a punishment."
His voice was gentle, his touch even more gentle. It almost felt like a feather lightly tickling your skin as he ran the back of his fingers up and down the skin of your stomach. There was a tightening sensation in your chest as you watched him litter your chest with kisses. Treating you like treasure was Wonwoo's favorite pastime, which is why he loved taking it slow with you. Sometimes he would be rough and mean, but right now he only wanted to make love to you.
"What kind of punishment?", you asked with a satisfied sigh.
He paused and looked at you, slightly confused because he had completely forgotten that he had ever mentioned a punishment. Drunk off of your body, and the aphrodisiac feeling he got from the thought of getting to cum inside you, made his short-term memory foggy.
"Right...", he cleared his throat and you laughed.
"Did you already forget?", you asked between giggles.
"I guess you're too distracting.", he chuckled, "Let's forget about punishment, I just want to feel you."
"Sounds good to me.", you hummed.
Your lips met in a beautiful dance, not fighting for power or dominance but instead completely balanced and loving. Without breaking the kiss, Wonwoo tried to take off his sweatpants and underwear. Teeth were clashing as you smiled into the kiss. Eventually, he pulled away from you to rip his unruly clothing off.
"There.", he breathed out, "Come here, love."
Crawling over to him, you reconnected your lips before falling back with your back on the bed. His lips moved from your lips to your jaw and down your neck - where he started sucking small purple love bites.
"Wonwoo...", you let out a frustrated breath.
"Just let me take my time, sweetheart.", he pleaded.
"You said I'd get anything I wanted as long as I asked.", you said, "... I want you to fuck me already, baby."
His ears didn't deceive him, you had used his words against him. Being an honest man meant that he couldn't back down on his promise, and Wonwoo was an honest man. And as he pushed himself inside you, you felt so satisfyingly full. An utmost sinful prayer of his name left your lips as he started moving. Over and over again you found yourself in a new realm of heaven. Moans slipped past your lips, which he silenced with a kiss. His hands were on either side of your head, holding himself up as he thrusted in a slow yet delicious rhythm. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you. When he pulled away from your lips he gave you a drunken smile, a way of saying how good he was feeling without the usage of any words.
"Wait, let me just...", he trailed off as he grabbed a pillow.
A whine escaped your lips as he pulled out. What could possibly be so important that he would interrupt this? But as he put the pillow under your hips and pushed back inside you, you knew why he had wanted to do it.
"Feel better?", he asked breathlessly as he started a slightly faster pace.
"That's... very good...", you soughed, "Thank you..."
A few chaste kisses were placed on your shoulder as he continued bringing you to paradise. You hadn't felt this good in a while, and suddenly you were eternally grateful that you finally managed to tell him what you wanted.
"I'm almost there, baby...", he gritted through his teeth, "... want you to cum with me."
At a loss for words, you only nodded. His hand voyaged between your bodies to rub your clit, and you gasped at the new sensation. The coil in your stomach was about to snap for a second time, and you could tell by Wonwoo's sudden erratic thrusts that he was close as well. Feeling his warm seed spilled inside you as he came with a moan of your name sent you over the edge. His body fell on top of yours, and the two of you stayed there for a moment. Your hand gently rubbed his bare back, feeling the soft skin under your fingertips soothing you almost as much as him.
"I love you.", he muttered.
"I love you too.", you said with a small giggle, "You made me feel so good, honey."
"Yeah?", he turned his head to look at you.
"So good.", you reassured him.
He placed a kiss on your cheek in response before he pulled out of you. Quiet groans could be heard through the room as the two of you moved around. Even if he had been very gentle, it almost felt like you were more tired than when he was rough. With sleepy eyes, you looked up at him and lifted your arms to him.
"Carry me, please.", you said.
"You can't walk?", he furrowed his eyebrows in concern, "Did I do something wrong?"
"No... you said you would do whatever I asked.", you grinned at him.
He scoffed, but nevertheless, he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom. You took a shower together, rinsing off your sweaty bodies with cold water. When you got out, he helped dry you up with a fluffy towel and you returned the favor by drying his hair.
"You did very well.", he murmured suddenly, "With asking."
"Well, you kind of made me.", you chuckled and cupped his face in your hands.
"You still did well.", Wonwoo kissed the palm of your hand and grinned, "It was super sexy."
You chortled at his comment and pulled your hands away from his face. He grabbed your waist and pulled you into his chest, where he had easier access to kiss your face. Even with your wriggling and whining, you couldn't escape his strong grip on you, and you could absolutely not escape his tickling pecks... a good thing that you didn't really actually mind.
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borahaerhy · a month ago
Hi! So I saw that requests are open! I was wondering if you could make a one shot where Jungkook is your best friend and he had a crush on you and you have a crush on him but he gets jealous at a party because he sees you talking to Taehyung who is giving you advice on how to confess to Jungkook and you kiss Taehyung on the cheek as a friend and Jungkook sees this and drags you off in a drunken rampage and starts kissing you and one thing leads to another? (Kink Warnings: Edging, dirty talk, spanking, punishments, a bit of degrading?)
Mine - jjk
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Genre: SMUT, little fluff at the end
Warnings: Major dom/sub themes, Dom!jk, Edging, dirty talk, spanking, punishments, degrading, praise, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, possessive JK, Implied intoxication, pet names, v fluffy ending
Word count: 2.5K
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“Looks like Jungkook’s having fun,” Taehyung leaned against the wall next to you, drink in hand as he looked over to the drunk man you had been staring at for most of the night. “Any reason you’re over here and not over there?”  
“I chickened out again,” you sighed, taking a sip of the drink in your hand. Taehyung clicked his tongue, shaking his head lightly as he too took a sip.  
“Y/n, he’s literally the most oblivious man on the planet. And apparently, he’s not the only one,” You waved at him dismissively as you turned away from Jungkook to look at Tae, who already had an eyebrow cocked knowingly as he looked at you.  
“I’ve heard your theories, and frankly, I don’t believe them.”  
“Y/n, I’m telling you, that man will not shut the fuck up about you; especially while drunk,” You rolled your eyes.  
“He’s drunk right now, and he’s not talking about anything other than a game of pool,” You took another sip of your drink, crossing your unoccupied hand around your center. Taehyung shrugged as he looked over at where Jungkook had been playing.  
With a smirk on his face, Taehyung nodded his head in the direction of your drunk mutual friend. “He might not be talking about you, but since you turned away from him, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you for more than a few seconds,” You quickly whip your head around, your eyes meeting Jungkook's for a millisecond before he looks back down at the table.  
“All you have to do is walk up to him, ask him to come with you somewhere more private, and tell him how you feel.” You bit your lip as you turned back to look at Taehyung, then back to Jungkook again, still skeptical. “Or just lay one on him, I’m sure he won’t mind either way,”  
Something you hadn’t noticed, however, was how close you and Taehyung were standing to one another. 
Naturally, if you wanted to hear each other at a party of this size, you’d have to stand pretty close to one another; but Jungkook wasn't thinking about what made sense.
He was thinking about how Taehyung had that dumb smirk plastered across his face as he casually stood so close to you. The anger in him only grew as he watched you so easily talking to him; or how Taehyung would touch your arm, or how you’d laugh at something he said.  
And the worst part was that Taehyung knew.  
Taehyung knew that Jungkook had been waiting so patiently for you; had been wanting and waiting for you for 3 years to realize that he wasn’t just your best friend, but also the perfect guy for you. Taehyung knew that you were his, that you belonged to Jungkook; but for some reason, he decided that he should talk to you, touch you as if he hadn’t heard Jungkook talk about you a million times before.  
And you just let him.  
The last straw came in the form of your lips on his cheek, your hand resting on his shoulder and his on your waist to keep you steady as you kissed him.  
That’s it.  
Jungkook handed his pool stick to someone nearby, he wasn’t even sure who it was if he was honest, and made a b-line over to you.  
“Oh, Jungkook, I was just about to-” Jungkook cut you off, not really caring about what you had to say as he grabbed ahold of your wrist and dragged you away.  
Taehyung smiled as he watched you get dragged off. He, of course, knew exactly what he was doing. He knew neither of you would ever just confess to the other, so he did a little meddling. He took another drink from his cup before he kicked away from the wall and moved over to take Jungkook’s spot in his game.  
You were dragged into an empty room and the door was slammed behind you. Jungkook turned away from the door and toward you, looking at you as he locked the door, his eyes raking down your body with hooded lids as you stood almost speechless, confused at his sudden change in demeanor.  
“Jungkook, what-” 
“Shut up,” His voice was low as he stepped toward you, pressing his lips to yours hungrily. His hands pulled your hips roughly into his, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as your heart beat loudly in your chest. “You’re such a fucking slut,” He mumbled against you, grabbing your hair and pulling your head to the side to give him access to your neck. “Think you can just keep me in your back pocket while you fuck around with my friends, huh?”  
At this point you were genuinely confused, but even as his words confused you they turned you on as his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin at the base of your neck.  
“Tae’s just a friend, Gguk – fuck,” A deep throaty chuckle escaped his throat as he continued to move his hips against yours.  
“My friend, who just happened to be standing so close to you he could smell your perfume; don’t argue,” As if sensing your need to defend yourself, Jungkook’s hand wrapped around your throat as he moved away from your neck, looking you intensely in the eye as he urged you not to speak.  
You stood still, one hand on his chest and the other on his bicep as he licked his lips, eyes scanning you intently as his hand gently squeezed the sides of your neck. “God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” He kissed you again, still hungrily and desperate, but more gentle than last time.  
His hand leaves your neck and wraps around your waist, pulling you in against him as tightly as possible as he moved you back toward the bed. You fell back onto the bed, your arms propping you up as Jungkook stood above you.  
You looked up at him, lips between your teeth and eyes wide as Jungkook bent down in front of you, hands quick to undo your jeans and pull them down your legs. As soon as your jeans were discarded, Jungkook’s strong hands were on your waist, pulling further up onto the mattress and flipping you to lay on your stomach.  
“You’ve been very bad, Y/n,” Jungkook was on top of you, knees on either side of your hips and arms propping him to hover over you, his breath hitting your ear as he whispered his delicious sentences to you. “I think you need a punishment.”  
His hand firmly slapped your ass, quickly leaving a red print of his hand as you yelped at the sudden impact. He smirked at your reaction, his dick growing harder as he looked down at your reddening ass. He slowly moved down, bringing your hands down with him, pinning them to your back with one hand as he leaned back on your thighs – just below your ass.  
“Why don’t we do one for every year you made me wait, hmm? Go easy on you since you’re being an obedient little slut for me,” You could feel your arousal practically dripping out of you, your panties no doubt drenched as you nodded you head, not wanting to speak out of turn. “Keep count for me, love.”  
He barely got his sentence out before his hand roughly met your ass. The full force of his strength struck your right ass cheek, a bit sooner and more aggressively than you had anticipated; you practically screamed out “One!”  
Jungkook smirked again, chewing on his lip ring as his grip around your wrists got tighter as he had to hold himself back from grinding his hips into your ass. Another slap landed on your other cheek, slightly lighter than the first one, but still hard enough to take your breath away.  
“Two!” You almost forgot you were supposed to count, but quickly rectified your mistake before Jungkook could punish you further for it. Unable to hold himself back any further, Jungkook wasted no time in landing his final slap on your ass, the hardest of them all. He let out a quiet grunt as you called out the final number.  
He released your hands as his hands moved up your shirt, unhooking your bra and sliding his hands to cup your breasts as his hips ground roughly into your tender ass. His lips came in contact with the hot skin of your back as he lifted your shirt up higher and higher until he fully removed both your shirt and bra, leaving you almost completely bare in front of him.  
“Fuck, you’re so hot, Y/n” He flipped you over before he began trailing wet kissed down your sternum as his hands explored your body, skin burning with desire as his hands handled you so delicately compared to moments before.  
He pulled your underwear away from you and threw them to the ground, along with his shirt, before he came back down to meet you, his mouth roughly sucking in your clit as he pulled you by your hips to meet his face better. You moaned out loudly, one hand coming up to your mouth as the other roughly gripped onto the bedspread.  
“Don’t muffle yourself,” His low and demanding voice sending shivers down your spine as he slid a finger into your dripping cunt. “I wanna hear you moan, baby.” 
“But what if-” Another finger was added to the first and roughly thrust into you as he used his other hand to slap your thigh, gripping it tightly as you looked deeply into his dark eyes.  
“Don’t argue,” His eyes warned you not to disobey as his mouth went back down to entertaining your sensitive nub. Out of instinct, you moved your hand back up to your mouth, but quickly moved it down to the bed, gripping the bedding with both hands.  
His skilled tongue and hands moved against you rhythmically; every thrust of his fingers hitting your g-spot perfectly, every stroke of his tongue leaving you gasping for more. Your loud moans filled the room, Jungkook’s movements getting faster and more desperate with every little sound that fell from your perfect lips.  
One of your hands moved to Jungkook’s hair, pulling on the soft strands as your walls clenched tightly around his quick fingers.  
“J-Jungkook, I’m gonna-” You moaned loudly, unable to finish your own thought as the pleasure building up was becoming too much.  
“Gonna cum?” He hummed against you, speeding up his movements before removing himself from you completely, standing up off the bed as you groaned loudly from the lack of friction. He quickly rid himself of his pants and underwear, his hard long cock finally springing free, his hands immediately moving down to give himself some much-needed friction as he pulled a condom out of his wallet before throwing it back down on the pile of clothes.  
The sight of Jungkook stroking himself made you really desperate, needing to feel a release that he wasn’t giving you as he stood over you, staring down at your body with desire written all over him. Your right hand started to move down to your center, but Jungkook was fast to climb back over you, pinning your hands above your head .  
“Don’t touch yourself unless I tell you to,” His words were low and demanding as you felt the tip of his dick prod at your entrance. You bite your lip as you stop yourself from wiggling your hips against him. “Understand?” You quickly nod your head, at this point completely willing to go along with whatever he wants just to get your release.  
Your hips disobey your wishes and move against him, his tip slipping along your folds thanks to how wet you are. One of his hands moves down to your hip, pinning you down as he furrows his eyebrow, his mouth hanging slightly open as he sucks in a big gulp of air.  
“You’re such a needy little slut, huh? Just want me to slam my cock into you, make you cum all over me, hmm?” His hips were moving slowly, his tip dragging across your sensitive clit as he spoke, his eyes rolled back into his head.  
“Yes, please just fuck me,” Jungkook pulled himself off of you, leaning back on his feet as he unwraps the condom, his eyes meeting yours as he slides the condom onto himself.  
“Turn around,” You quickly shuffle, turning around and sticking your ass up, giving him a nice view of the mess he’s left. Seconds later he’s entering you, his large size stretching you out as you both let out streams of moans. “Fuck, baby, you’re fucking perfect,” His hips slowly pull out before snapping back into you, your pretty little sounds encouraging him to fuck into you harder.  
“To think I could’ve been fucking you like this all this time,” You were a mess under him, face smashed into the pillows you were gripping onto as he sped up his movements with every rough thrust into your aching cunt. “Could’ve claimed this pussy a long time ago, but you were too busy giving it to everyone but me,” His thrusts got rougher as his fingers dug into your hips, bruises already beginning to form as he pressed harder.  
“This is my pussy now, all fucking mine,” He moaned out loudly as he slapped your still red ass right over the already prominent handprint. You moaned loudly as you tried to keep your orgasm from consuming you, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to last much longer with how he was talking to you.  
“Gguk, mm gonna-” Your words barely discernable as he pounded into you ruthlessly.  
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fat cock,” He reached around you and started rubbing your clit furiously, begging you to cum for him. You practically screamed out as you came, knuckles white as you gripped the pillows around you harder than you thought possible as he moved even faster into your pulsing cunt, seeking his own high.  
“Fuck, that’s so good baby, you’re so fucking good for me,” He landed one final slap to your less tender cheek as he emptied himself into the condom, moaning loudly, his movements slowing dramatically as he rode out his high.  
He collapsed next to you, pulling you into his heaving chest as he relaxed down into the bed. Tangled in each other's embrace, you both tried to regain your breath as you let it fully set in what just happened.  
Jungkook’s hand moved under your chin, bringing your face up to meet his in a soft and gentle kiss; the kind of kiss he’d wanted to be the first one you shared together. His lips moved softly against yours as he savored the way you tasted, never wanting to move from this spot with you. 
“You did so good, baby,” You blushed and looked down, suddenly very shy in front of the man you’ve had a crush on for ages. He lifted your chin up again, bringing your eyes back up to meet his before he left a soft kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,”  
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mercurygguk · 24 days ago
head over skates | jjk
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— summary; jungkook doesn’t get jealous but here you are, bringing out new sides of him.
pairing; ice hockey player!jungkook x f. reader
rating; PG-13
word count; 802
warnings/content; swearing, ice. hockey. player jungkook 😩
a/n; in honor of today being my bday, here’s a hockey player jungkook drabble based on a reel i saw on Instagram as per request of @kookingtae 🫶🏼🥹 enjoy!
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Jeon Jungkook is not a jealous person.
He has always been the one everyone was jealous of – good-looking, perfect grades, talented ice hockey player, always hooking up with the prettiest girls on campus. He has it all and everyone is always jealous of him. No one has ever caused Jeon Jungkook to be the jealous one.
Or overprotective, for that matter.
But lately a certain girl has been making him act on his feelings rather than his common sense. What it is about you, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he hates when he sees other guys look at you as if you’re free to take.
Jungkook has been walking around campus, holding your hand for a month already and yet some guys are stupid enough to make a move or flirt with you as if Jungkook isn’t the one to kiss you goodnight and hold you tight at the end of the day.
Jealousy usually never rules him but ever since he entered the arena and noticed you on the bleachers, sitting next to that one guy from your psychology class, he’s been focusing on that more than warming up for the game of tonight.
The voice of his coach pulls him back to present time, Jungkook’s widened eyes tearing themselves from you and that guy to his coach, stern eyes staring at him. His coach doesn’t have to say a word for Jungkook to understand what he’s telling him – get your head out of your ass and get ready for the game.
From your seat on the bleachers, you’re watching Jungkook. There’s a small smile on your face as you watch him skate over the ice, gracefully and without difficulty – the talent oozing off him without him doing much. The smoothness of his moves causes the talent to shine out of him, the number #10 on the back of his jersey looking weirdly attractive on him.
It’s just a number, stop acting like this, ____.
“Ugh, boys look so good in hockey gear,” your friend groans softly from beside you, causing you to chuckle.
It’s almost as if she just read your mind and decided to speak up about it.
However, you let her words drift off into the air. You focus back on Jungkook and his teammates as your friend keeps talking about hot hockey players. A loud intro melody starts playing over the speakers, tuning out your friend’s rambling. You look up, eyes focusing on the screen.
It’s your first hockey game ever since you started college; the sport itself never caught your interest beforehand but lately a certain boy has been changing your interests and hockey quickly became one of your biggest interests since he’s the team captain and (probably) also because he looks good in his hockey gear.
You watch with a grin as the camera focuses on different couples in the arena. Some of them turn shy and awkward as soon as they realize they’re on the big screen. Others find it funny and give each other kisses that makes your grin widen and your heart tingle in all sorts of ways. However, your grin soon falters the tiniest bit when you see yourself on the big screen alongside Minhyuk from your psychology class.
Minhyuk is smirking at you and shrugging when you turn to face him, his expression saying the sentence ‘oh, would you look at that – what a coincidence!’ As much as you find the kiss-cam entertaining and funny, you didn’t exactly plan on being a part of it.
Especially not with someone like Minhyuk.
However, before you can protest, he’s leaning closer. Just as he’s about to connect his lips with yours in a kiss there’s a loud noise, startling the two of you. It causes Minhyuk to move away just enough for you to breathe normally again, a sigh of relief leaving you as you glance in the direction of the loud noise of something banging against the glass to the bleacher seats.
You spot a pair of darkened, glaring brown eyes staring at Minhyuk with so much fury his head would blow up if possible. You watch your classmate gulp nervously as Jungkook mouths words that aren’t to be mistaken.
“Back. the. fuck. off.”
Your friend lets out a quiet squeal as Jungkook glances at you before turning his back to the bleachers, skating away to gather his team together. You sit frozen in place, not sure what to do or say as you watch the number on Jungkook’s back move further and further away, the look of anger on his face when he told Minhyuk to back off burned into your brain and staying there for the rest of the game.
Tonight is going to be interesting.
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guanana · 4 months ago
step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! ♡ ljn x reader (18+)
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genre: smut, jeno x reader, f x m, crack
word count: 12.2k+
summary: after years of sitting hunched over at an office desk and squinting your eyes at an overly saturated computer screen, your back finally gives out on you and decides it needs a break. 
good thing your friendly neighborhood chiropractor dr. lee is here to save the day! small issue though— he’s really fucking hot and he’s got a way with his hands.
smut warnings: dom!jeno, mild dubcon (please do not read if you are uncomfortable with this), penetrative sex, manhandling, choking, strength kink, oral (f receiving), minimal rimming (f receiving), fingering, squirting, subspace, degradation, mild spanking, body worship
other warnings: will more than likely contain anatomical and medical inaccuracies (please spare me)
masterlist | next
────── 〔✿〕──────
When you were younger, all of the adults told you that your twenties would be some of the best years of your life. Relaying tales of being able to stay out past the curfew your parents had set for you. To indulge in certain luxuries that weren’t accessible to you when you were younger– the finest of alcohol, gambling, and more. Old enough for the freedom that comes with adulthood, yet young enough for the rose colored glasses that’ll register one of your fondest memories. 
Not you though. 
Scrolling through your social media, you grumble to yourself bitterly as you deliberately swipe past a post of your old colleagues from school having a night out at the bar. Lined up along the stools and leaned up against one another, bright smiles and puckered lips showing off just how much fun they’re having. Envious of their fitted dresses and the heels that you’ve been admiring from far away at your local outlet. 
You really couldn’t blame them, though. They’ve invited you out many times. To no avail, they’re always met with rejection. The same exact excuses every single time: 
“I’ve got OT today.”
“I have a project due tonight, I need to get this done.”
“I’m too tired. You guys go on without me.”
It’s not that you wanted to be such a stick in the mud. You just happened to work at an office that sucks the soul out of your being. It’s no wonder that the invites have become extremely scarce throughout the years, but that didn’t stop you from being petty and refusing to leave a like on their posts.
“Like hell I will,” You spit back.
“Like hell I will,” You spit back.
“Like hell I will,” You spit back.
Haechan pouts at that, his eyebrows furrowing childishly at your attitude. “What’s got you so moody today? I just wanna spend some time with my favorite coworker.” Planting his hands on top of each of your shoulders, soothing not so gentle circles into the flesh. Digging his forefingers into the crook of your collarbone, inflicting minor pain. He whistles at how stiff the knots are. “Jesus, you’re tight.”
“Could you stop being annoying for like, two minutes please?” You retreat from his touches with a feigned scoff, refusing to let him in on the fact that the makeshift massage hurt like actual hell. Shooting shocks and aches all along from the bottom of your spine to the top, wondering why you’re strained. You’d be a fool to think you could evade Haechan’s observant gaze however. As he jabs a pointer finger right to the center of your back, you shoot up from your hunched over position with an obnoxious squeal. “Ah– fucking hell, Haechan!”
Maneuvering your rolling chair to give him your deadliest glare, you’re confused when you’re met with a concerned face. “Do you have back problems?”
The sudden question startles you. Craning your neck and giving it an experimental crack. You realize you've never put much thought into it. Writing it off as a minor inconvenience at most. Too caught up with the rest of life to be concerned with your physical health, you pushed any aches to the back burner of your mind. “I don’t think so?”
Another jab comes your way, this time directly at your trapezius. Squealing like a mouse in pain once again, you earn a few curious stares from your peers. “Ow!” You smack his wrist away. “What the hell is wrong with you!?"
“It’s because you’re always slumped over at that damn desk!” Haechan argues with a tone that’s similar to a naggy mother’s. “You need to get checked out before it gets any worse.”
“I’m fine,” You swivel your chair away from him and back towards your desk, wanting to end this interaction as soon as possible. “Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”
Ever the overly concerned friend, Haechan goes against your wishes. Reaching into his pocket for his wallet before filing through the several business cards he has stowed away. You hear an innocuous ‘aha!’ from behind you, turning back curiously only to be met with a small cut of paper. Wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously, urging you to take it from him.
Taking the card with caution, you barely skim through the simplistic font before Haechan speaks up again. “This guy is top notch. He’ll put you back into shape like it’s nothing.”
“Dr. Lee Jeno, D.C..” You mumble to yourself. Looking up at Haechan’s cat-like expression with your own unamused stare, fingers already up in air quotes. “Step on a crack, Dr. Lee will put you back on track?” You mock with disdain before grimacing at Haechan. “You can’t be serious right now.”
“I’m definitely being one hundred percent serious,” Haechan replies. “Come on, give it a try! His rates are great before insurance. Who knows how much cheaper it would be with our health plan.” 
You’ve watched plenty of chiropractor videos on Youtube before. Fond of the ASMR and the funny reactions. They've kept you entertained more times than you’d like to admit. That didn't stop your irrational fear of having your neck snapped so far back you wake up to find yourself in front of the pearly gates though.
“Don’t you know chiropractors are quack doctors? I mean— look at this Patrick Bateman ass business card. This guy could kill me!” You counter pathetically. 
“Hey, don’t speak on my boy like that,” He points an accusing finger at you. “I’ve gone to him plenty of times, and I’m still alive!”
“That’s because you’re a freak of nature,” You sigh at his persistence, too many factors to consider before even thinking about calling this man. “I don’t know…” But when you stretch out and a crack evades both your ears, that same sharp tinge traveling up your back, you’ve got no choice but to give in. Deflating under Haechan’s narrowed eyes, you admit defeat. “Okay, fine.”
“‘Atta girl,” He cheers. “I swear that you won’t regret it. Dr. Lee’s great at what he does.” “I hope you’re right, because if he snaps my neck and I die— I’m haunting your punk ass.” 
“Being haunted by you doesn’t sound that bad honestly. But when have I ever lied to you?” He winks. “Oh, and make sure to tell him that I referred you.”
Deciding that he’s bothered you enough, Haechan bids you goodbye with a wave. When you’re left by yourself you examine the card much more thoroughly. Despite the extremely corny slogan, you admire the minimalistic design. Flipping it to the other side to get more of his information, taking a mental note to search up his reviews later.
Dr. Lee seems to check all of the marks. Almost five stars on Google Reviews, most of them being very thorough and positive. A variety of patients from the eldery, to athletes, and even to those who have suffered severe injuries. Many claim that he’s got the ‘magic touch’ and that he treats his patients with the utmost care. That and he has the credentials to boot, graduating at the top of his class.
Swiping through the photos to get a feel for what his office looks like, it seems he occupies a space at a local complex. It’s neat and tidy, a clear degree and certification plated right there for all to see. Seems like he doesn’t have any photos of himself however, his profile picture being the default silhouette. 
Admittedly you find yourself pacing back and forth, your phone resting on top of your coffee table. You’d like to blame it on mild phone anxiety, but you’ve got nothing to blame but your skepticism. Mentally battling with yourself to just give Dr. Lee a call and set the damn appointment.
Well, if he’s got Haechan’s approval (you’re not sure how valid that is), you guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. You seldom ever ‘treated yourself,’ so why not throw a couple of bucks on something that’ll actually do you some good? 
Bracing yourself, you swipe your phone off of the table dramatically before dialing the number displayed on the card. Slapping the device onto your ear while the rings reverberate around your virtually silent room. Swaying nervously as two rings, three, then four pass without an answer. Wondering if you’re in over your head and should quit while you're still ahead, looking back at the screen and hovering your thumb over the hang up button.
Until somebody eventually picks up. A voice that is gentle yet booming with bass, delicate yet boyish in the same manner. “Hello? You’ve reached Neo Therapy Practitioners, this is Jisung speaking!”
Fumbling your phone like a hot potato, you tuck your phone in the nook of your shoulder. Grabbing a pen and notepad before plopping back down onto your couch. “Yeah, hi, yes!” You splutter. “I was wondering if I could set up an appointment with Dr. Lee?”
“Oh, for adjustment? Sure!” You hear some rustling before the man on the line continues. “Let me just get some of your info before I transfer you over to him. He’ll go into more depth with you than me.”
After providing Jisung with the necessary information, he sends you to Dr. Lee’s extension. An annoying jingle that brings you some peace. Still just a bit wary of setting up your meeting with Dr. Lee, your concerns only growing when the song comes to an abrupt stop.
Now, you may not have a face to pair with whoever is on the other side of the line, but nothing could have prepared you for the intense timbre that's on the other line.
"Hello?” The deep and sultry voice greets you, and when you take a few too seconds too long to return it, he tries again. “This is Dr. Lee. Are you there?”
Straightening your back out like you’re already in the room with him, it takes a lot of energy to double down without embarrassing yourself. “Yes! I’m here.”
A chuckle is offered in response, and you find yourself biting your index finger at how much of a baritone his voice has. Unlike Jisung who had an innocent tinge to his tone, Dr. Lee’s voice made it clear that he was a man of experience. A bravado that couldn't be missed even without physically seeing him.
“Glad to hear it.” You practically hear the smile in his voice. “So, Jisung told me you were looking to be adjusted?” When you hum in response, there’s a pause before he continues. “Sounds good. Typically with your first appointment it’ll consist of a consultation followed by your first adjustment. Does that sound okay?”
“Mhm, that's fine.”
“Perfect.” He beams, going over some more basic information that you jot down on your notepad. “Would you be free to come in tomorrow at let’s say… nine a.m? I actually had a cancellation and it gives us more than enough time before my next patient.”
When you check your wall calendar to confirm you have nothing going on in the morning, you let him know that you’re good to go. Everything goes swimmingly from there.
Dr. Lee instructs you to wear a casual set of clothes, to have your insurance and identification ready, and to just relax. 
“I’ll print out a brief page of everything we discussed today, and I’ll hand over the rest of the information to Jisung to input into our system.” Dr. Lee finalizes. “I look forward to meeting you tomorrow. I'll see you then?”
“Absolutely,” You reply. “Bright and early. I’ll see you, Dr. Lee.”
With a click, the call ends. Stretching out and hearing the pops of your spine sing like a choir, you're thankful that such a nuisance will be put to a stop soon. You feel much more at ease than before you had called, and you hope that the same holds true for when you see him tomorrow.
Turns out that it didn’t hold true. Not one fucking bit. Maybe you can still make a run for it, the main lobby merely a hallway from his office. 
It had gone easily enough. Meeting his secretary Jisung at the front desk with an enthusiastic greeting. He was young, probably using this as a part time job, most definitely not taking it seriously since you caught him playing Minecraft on a separate gaming laptop. Slamming the screen shut in a fit of embarrassment, he apologizes hurriedly before you reassure him that he’s okay, laughing at his silliness.
Handing him the required materials, he sends you to the back with a small smile. “First door to the left. He should be ready for you.”
With a nod you follow his instructions. That same confidence that you had carried from the night before crumbling to dust the moment you turned down the handle of the door. Swallowing a thick wad that’s formed at the center of your throat when you take in the sight of the man who’s setting up his equipment.
Haechan be damned, this guy was going to kill you. Not in the way you had first feared though. 
Dr. Lee was a sight sent straight from the Greek Gods themselves. Aphrodite taking special care and concocting whatever the fuck he was made out of with a few shots too many of favoritism. Muscular legs that are restrained by black jeans that travel up a lean waist that part into obnoxiously broad shoulders. Proportions unbelievably perfect with an even more beautiful face to boot, that sharp jawline and beauty mark that is saved for those who are the cream of the crop.
If you were attracted to merely a voice via a phone call, the real thing has you absolutely folding.
Unfortunately for you, you were too slow in backing out. Dr. Lee had finished adjusting the height of the bed at the center of the room, presumably sensing your presence before twisting his entire body to find you at the door frame. Upon meeting you for the first time, his face twists into one of the most welcoming expressions ever. 
Oh yeah, you were doomed.
Taking large strides towards you, he extends his hand for you to take. “Nice to be able to meet you in person.” He says, eyes forming into sweet crescents upon your accepting shake. His large hand wraps around yours completely. Gaze trailing from where you’re connected to his pronounced forearms. Sleeves rolled up high enough to ogle the veins that lace around.
Said button up did him no favors either. Accentuating each taut muscle, his biceps begging to be freed from its constraints. The button just below his collarbone fighting for dear life lest he makes the wrong move and it pops off. Calling your name, he brings you out of your daze. Shaking your head to bring you back to reality, scolding yourself inwardly for being such a prude. “N-nice to meet you too, Dr. Lee.”
He blows a few black strands away from his forehead, snorting at your apprehensiveness. “Please save the formalities. Just call me Jeno.” He squeezes your hand in reassurance. Separating from you in exchange for extending his arm towards the bed with black leather cushions that are framed by fine bamboo. “Make yourself comfy, yeah?”
Following you closely before dragging a rolling chair to sit across from you in, he sits casually with his legs spread out and his chest leaning against the back support of the chair. Reaching for his clipboard and whistling a tune as he skims through some documents. “Alright, it seems like we have some minor back pain?” He licks at his thumb to make flipping through the pages easier. Pushing the glasses that slip down his nose, attentive to every detail. “Care to tell me about it?”
“WelI, I think I started to feel some aches as early as three years ago when I started at my office, but it was a nuisance at worst,” You explain. Jeno validates you by nodding along, jotting out your words into short notes on his clipboard. Holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger, he urges you to continue. “But it's gotten worse recently. It's more of a shooting pain now.”
“I see.” He affirms, tapping the pen against his bottom lip. “A lot of my patients that are in the office tend to be victims of misalignment, I’m sure your case is no different.” 
“I hope so,” You stifle a nervous laugh, halfheartedly relaying your worst fears in a joking manner. “Would hate to find out I have scoliosis this late into life and then have to get surgery for it.”
“Oh, please,” Jeno snorts at you with a feigned offense, tossing the clipboard back to his desk. “I notice your posture is a bit off, but it’s nowhere near so bad that it would require surgery. Plus–,” He cuts himself off when he rises from his office chair, circling behind you to plant his hands on your shoulders. The sudden closeness has your breath hitching, tensing up even further when he parts your hair to get a better look at the back of your neck. Feeling rather than seeing that his chest is probably no more than a few centimeters away from your back. A ghost of a breath against your ear, realizing that he’s much closer than you thought. “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll put you right back into shape.”
“Y-yeah…” You have to remind yourself that he is a certified professional. For that reason, you conclude that he is most definitely just being friendly– at least you try to tell yourself as you feel heat travel up your neck beneath his thumbs that trace over the top of your back. Wanting to slap yourself for getting nervous over him doing his job.
“Let’s take a look, yeah?” Those same thumbs trail down your back, the fitted workout shirt you decided to wear today making it easier for Jeno to get a proper visual of your spine, humming in fascination when he digs into the flesh. A slight jolt causing you to wince under his hold, squeaking feebly at the discomfort. You hope you’re hallucinating when you hear a breathy chuckle leave his throat. “Sorry, did that hurt?” He muses.
“No–! Okay, maybe a little,” You stutter out. “It was just a bit of a shock.”
A noise that’s akin to a lion on the prowl stirs in his chest, making his way back up to the vertebrae that’s on that rests right below your neck. Digging into the flesh once again, this time earning a hiss from you. Biting your lip when the same pain that you had experienced from Haechan resurfaces. “Looks like you do have some misalignment. Does this hurt?” He asks before exerting more force into the spot.
“Fuck–,” You curse, covering your mouth in embarrassment at your lack of professionalism. “Sorry, yeah. That hurt a lot.”
You’re starting to think that this alleged ‘doctor’ is having a little bit too much fun inflicting pain on you. Under the guise that he’s just examining what issues you have, you grow more skeptical with each chuckle. Just when you’re about to retreat from his overbearing touches, he retreats first. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea on what you’ve got going on.” 
“You think?” You deadpan, not sure if you’re finding relief in your suspicions dominating your obvious attraction.
“Well, I know, rather.” He shrugs before walking back over to his desk, pulling out a model of a spine. Traveling back to you to point at one of the uppermost vertebrae. “Your thoracic is misaligned towards the top, specifically your T1– which is responsible for lots of important things like your shoulders, arms, the like.”
“So what does all of that mean?” 
“Luckily, it’s not bad at all. I think a few sessions would be just fine,” He answers, discarding the spine model. “I’ll give you a sheet with a bunch of stretches that’ll prevent further injury. ‘Till then,'' That same smile encapsulates his features, tilting his head playfully. “Ready for your first adjustment?”
He raises his eyebrows when you give him a gobsmacked face, as if you haven’t already signed a waiver and a bunch of other non-disclosure agreements that specify that you are in fact going to be realigned.
 “Oh, we’re doing that now now.”
“Yeah, now now.” He mocks you halfheartedly. Hands now coming to your front and pushing you down gently, swallowing when you get the best look of his face that you’ve gotten in the short time you’ve been in this office.  “Lay back for me, okay?” He instructs softly, leaving you to grab his chair once again. 
You do as he says, coming down with control only to realize you’ve fallen into his hands rather than onto the cushion. A horrible realization dawns when you recall the Youtube video that you had watched before going to sleep. Oh shit, he was going to crack your neck.
“Relax for me, just let your head fall back. Don’t tense." He praises you when you follow with no objections. Taking your trust with gratitude, he coos at you when your eyelids flutter shut. “That’s it…” 
“Are you gonna do the thing?” You open one eye curiously. 
“What, the thing where I readjust your neck?” Noticing that your expression is scrunched in fear, he realizes that you’re still a bit on edge. He knows that earning his patients’ full trust is all part of the job. It came easy to some, but harder for others. Good thing he was a patient man. “I understand if you’re scared, but just know that I haven’t killed anyone.”
“Oh, that totally makes me feel better–”
“Just how did you score such high reviews on the Internet?” You chide him. “My life is literally in your hands right now.”
“I think those reviews were properly earned because of my dazzling charisma. Is that not enough to put you at ease?” He soothes light circles into the back of your neck, earning a purr of satisfaction from you.  
“You mean your pretty privilege?” You drawl, immediately regretting not being able to bite back your sharp tongue. 
"So you think I'm pretty?" He questions.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you amp up the theatrics by clamping your mouth shut. Motioning a metaphoric zipper from one end to the other and breaking off the tab.
Jeno decides he’s poked enough fun at you despite wanting to provoke more funny reactions. “Alright, now that you’re relaxed– I just want you to focus on your breathing.” He watches you inhale and exhale, chest pumping up and down with every breath. Gnawing at his cheek when he realizes that your shirt is just a bit low cut, your cleavage visible from where he’s sat behind you. “Mhm, good girl.”
The pet name quickly demolishes any relaxation you’ve achieved in the span of two seconds, but before you can properly address it, Jeno twists your neck. Squawking out a ‘oh my god!’ when a pronounced crack invades the room. Eyes practically bulging out of their sockets when Jeno brings you back to place, patting your cheek and letting out an exuberant laugh. 
“You did it!” He claps for you. 
“Holy fucking shit,” You gasp, unable to care about coming off as presentable to him. Sitting up quickly to wrap your hands around yourself. Unable to describe the sensation that just occurred, something in between satisfaction and utter shock. “I’m alive!”
“You are,” He says, bottom lip tucked between his teeth when you rejoice. His patients showing instant results and giving positive reactions would always be his favorite part of the job. “How do you feel?”
You take a few seconds to think, shaking your body a little and craning your neck side to side. “I feel a little lighter? There was a second where my head was just.. blank. Like there was nothing at all. I think I liked it.” 
When his lips quirk up into a smirk, you fold into yourself bashfully. Wondering if you’re coming off too casual with someone you had just met. Only now remembering that you had a very nice set of arms and hands over what you’d consider an intimate part of the body. Aside from Haechan who you couldn’t really chase away (no matter how many times you’ve cursed at him), you’ve never been too fond of physical touch. But when you catch the veins that have become even more prominent after exuding his efforts on you, you can’t help the fantasies that plague your mind.
Jeno was capable of twisting your neck like it was nothing. You wonder how easily he could lift you. Or how long he could last with you in his arms. Or how long he–
“Ready for the other side?” He pipes in. 
Maybe you shouldn’t  lust over your chiropractor when you’re in the same room as him. 
Falling back into him once again, he waits for your body to go slack. Counting off when you’ve reached a state of peace, he reiterates the action but in the opposite direction. That same rush breaking through your toughest nerves. Sighing out in relief, unconsciously arching your back when a tingle travels down your spine. Completely unaware of the way Jeno ogles the outline of your body in such fitted clothing.
“Still doing okay?” He hums, unconsciously trailing a hand through your hair. You ease into his touch with a sappy smile. The blissful pleasure similar to the buzz that comes with a good wine, your body is heavy but your mind is light.
“Doing just fine, Doctor…” You whisper out, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. A stark contrast from the top half to the latter of his palm, such a soft touch despite the surface being riddled with calluses. He felt just like how he looks– a bit rugged but just as gentle. Lee Jeno was an oxymoron personified, and you fear for your well being as the rest of this session goes. 
“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name?” He reprimands you, a bit of a growl laced in his words. 
“Right,” You breathe out, painfully perceptive to his thumb that grazes against your bottom lip. Catching his hand with your own, lacing your fingers around the crook of his. “It felt amazing, Jeno.”
Jeno has had plenty of patients stretching near and far– many trying to pull moves on him. That isn’t to say he hasn’t found a few attractive people in his time in the office. But he knows better to engage in any sort of scandals that could bring any bad light to his reputation as a well renowned chiropractor. It was also natural for his patients to become a little lost in their heads after living with that pain for so long.
But when you don such a lost and dazed expression, Jeno realizes he might be in just a little bit of trouble.
Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on like normal. That proves to be difficult when he has to put you in quite a few compromising positions. Having to hug your body close when he lifts you up, plenty of cracks to show just how long you’ve deprived yourself of such basic luxuries. Using his strength to realign your spine in increments while you lay on your stomach.
He’s not a stranger to the grunts and groans of relief from the rest of his patients. Yet with each and every adjustment came a new sound. A stuttered gasp, an elongated groan, a screech in almost painful bliss– he wonders if you like being hurt. And when he has you laid on your side with his hand on the small of your back, an almost pornographic moan has him reeling in delight. Almost wanting to keep you for longer than he originally planned– to shut the blinds and lock the door, trying to remember if he still has that ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign that he has tucked away in his desk somewhere.
But again, he knows better. When he finishes off with popping your shoulders into place, he cranks his own neck. Taking extra care of you, treating you with the same sincerity as a flower in a field. He hadn’t realized that your time is minutes from cutting into his next patient. Sighing defeatedly, he has to cut it now. 
“Hey, sleepyhead,” He pinches your nose when you refuse to wake up. Much too lost in your own wonderland, the irrational fear of a chiropractor snapping your neck too far dissipates into thin air. Every part of your body feels as light as a feather. Jeno grabs your forearm, the lack of resistance resembling that of a limp noodle, causing him to snort at your stubbornness to get out of his office. He thinks it wouldn’t be so bad if you were to stay a little longer.
“C’mon, wake up!” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to lift you onto your feet. Lifting you with little to no effort, like you weigh nothing. Strong arms surround you firmly, yet you feel a sense of security.  “Did I do that well?”
“Oh god,” You loll your head onto your shoulder, giving yourself a good stretch. It amazes you when you reach out high and not a single ache or crack follows. “I haven’t been this relaxed in years.”
Jeno’s sure he could make you feel even better if you’d let him, but it’s better to leave it at what you pay him for. “Glad to hear it,” His hands instinctively seek purchase on your shoulders, comfort being a second nature. Urging you towards the door, he doesn’t miss the pout that you don when you wobble like you’ve just learned to walk. “When will I see you again?”
You still have that half lidded gaze from being snapped like a twig, but it seems that you’ve come back to earth. “When’s your next available appointment?” You lean against the doorframe. 
He checks his calendar on his phone for any openings, he relays the options for you. “I’ve got an opening for Saturday next week, same time. Would you be interested?”
“Sign me up.” You answer. “I’ll see you then, Doc–” He’s grimacing at you before you can get the rest of the word in. Still not used to the informality, you huff before turning to take your leave. “I’ll see you next week, Jeno.”
“That’s what I like to hear. It was nice having you today.” He grins, waving you off before closing the door. When he hears Jisung bidding you goodbye and the chime of the bell to confirm that you’ve left the vicinity, he immediately rips his glasses off. Brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing at the prominent bridge of his nose.
He saw the way that you were ogling him when you had first entered. It was nothing new– the ladies young and old alike couldn’t get enough of him, and he definitely wasn’t oblivious to any of their advances. But when he thinks about all the ways he could bend and twist you over the furniture of his office, how he would be the reason you couldn’t walk, he comes to the realization– you were going to be a problem.
Saturday takes much too long to roll around, and fortunately for you Jeno contacts you no more than three days later for a cancellation. Your second appointment passed with flying colors. Jeno praises you for following the stretching regimen that he had provided you with, noting that your stiffness has already depleted exponentially. Chiropractic adjustment quickly becomes one of your favorite appointments of the week. Coming in with a smile on your face and stepping out and like a million bucks.
The same can’t be said for Jeno, however. While he’s sure that the attraction is mutual, you seem to be sending him mixed signals. Unsure if those moans are practiced or if he really evoked them from using his pure strength. Hell, he’s found himself hitting the gym even more than he already does, getting giddy when you take note of his progress.
“Have you been working out?”
“A little.” He smirks. “Why? Has it been paying off?”
“A little.” You mimic him with a subtle lick of your lips, giving his bicep an experimental squeeze. Jaw dropping at how hard the surface is. The muscle jumps when he unconsciously flexes beneath your touch.
That’s not all though. He’s noticed that you’ve gotten a bit too comfy in the time that you two have spent together. Your first visit you donned a plain workout tee paired with a baggy pair of sweats. But throughout your visits, t-shirts turn into tank tops, sweats turn into leggings, leggings turn into biker shorts– tops seeming to expose more and more of your stomach until he can see the lower curvature of your breasts.
“Oh, I forgot to mention it,” You say when Jeno pulls at your ankles, a pronounced ‘pop!’ successfully sounding around him. “Haechan was the one who recommended you to me.”
“Lee Haechan?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, the visual of the coconut headed brunette plagues his mind. Grimacing at how overbearing he can be. “Yeah, I know him.”
“I’m really glad he did,” You hum, that same damned expression that has been haunting him every night for the past few weeks. “You make me feel so good, Jeno.”
“You really need to be careful with what you say,” He tuts, appalled that such euphemisms fail to register. His voice lowering down to a low whisper, muttering under his breath. “I’m a guy, you know.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Lay on your tummy for me, now.”
Maybe it was the confidence that came with getting better posture. Maybe it was the fact that you were becoming more flexible after he suggested you should join the free yoga classes that your community has online. Whatever it was, it was becoming even more of a problem for not just him, but those around you too.
“You are an addict.” Haechan glares at you. “You’re a crack addict. You’re addicted to crack!”
Embarrassment floods your being when your coworkers take a peek at the commotion. Haechan’s choice of words certainly does not do your image any favors. You cover your face with a manila folder from your desk, not wanting to give any attention to your nuisance of a coworker. He wasn’t having it though, ripping away the barricade and getting close in on your face. 
“Wanna know how I know you’re a crack addict?” He corners you.
Diverting your attention from your project, you swivel your chair in his direction to entertain his antics. “Oh, pray tell Haechan. Tell me how you know that I’m addicted to getting adjustments.”
Pulling out his phone, he presents you with a photo of a package that was addressed to his home. Raising an unamused eyebrow, your question remains unanswered. “What does that have to do with anything?” 
“It’s a free roomba that I won from a raffle,” Haechan starts. “Dr. Lee’s quarter-yearly raffle to be exact.”
“Every appointment that someone I’ve referred to him has, is another entry to the raffle. And in the three weeks–” He holds out three fingers. “That you’ve been seeing Dr. Lee, guess how many entries I’ve scored.”
You’re not exactly fond of the direction this is going in, growing a bit nervous as you’ve lost track of the many times you’ve swiped your card along the pin pad that stays with Jisung at the front desk. “How many…?”
Bringing a hand to his mouth, he obnoxiously coughs to clear his throat. “Sweetheart, you have seen him ten times in three weeks.”
“You’re lying.” You gasp.
Tapping on an email from Jeno himself, he flips the screen towards your face. The evidence in all its glory specifying how many entries he’s been given. “Read it and weep, babe.” He squats down to your height in your chair, whispering into your ear mischievously. “So, tell me the truth– is he actually realigning your spine? Or is he blowing your back out instead?”
“Haechan!” You slap at him harshly, growing flustered at such an accusation. You think you’ve done a good job at being discreet about your desire for Jeno, able to keep yourself at bay every night when your vibrator clears your dirty mind for you. “We have not fucked.” You cross your arms to emphasize your point. 
“Yet.” That childish grin grows. “Keep visiting him like that and it’s bound to end up like some cheesy porno.”
“We aren’t gonna fuck,” You shut him down. “That’s so unprofessional.” “Suit yourself.” Haechan shrugs, turning on his feet to leave you alone once again. Tending to give you a mental whiplash and leaving you to clean up the mess yourself. “I’m just saying– it’s actually been kind of hard to get an appointment with him lately. Much less multiple times in the same week.”
“It’s probably just because I’m a new patient and require more adjustment.” “Maybe so, but I’d look into that if I were you,” He bids you off with a wink. Greeting another female coworker who passed him by, returning his gesture with a wistful smile. The interaction causes your eye to twitch. You’re sorry for that poor girl– she has no idea how insufferable that man is. Turning back to you with a smug expression to gloat. “Thanks for the free roomba by the way!”
His last words have you pondering, unfortunately. Jeno does spend a great deal of time on you, and his rates are definitely generous enough for multiple visits to be feasible. Maybe there is something there. 
But it’s been a really long time since you’ve been physically intimate with anyone. You’re a bit jaded in your judgment, often pinning most people’s flirting and undivided attention as mere kindness. The prospect of being able to have Jeno actually want you as much as you think about him stirs something in your stomach, annoyingly girlish butterflies fluttering around like you’re in high school again.
Who knows? It wouldn’t hurt to try and push the limits a little. What’s the worst that could happen? 
You might’ve jumped the gun. Wearing the smallest and tightest skirt in your closet with no safety shorts underneath probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Regretting your decision and clamping your legs shut, when Jeno gives you a once over upon your arrival.
His expression was unreadable when you met at his desk. Jaw clenched unbearably tight, a hypocritical action as he’s advised you to refrain doing that on multiple occasions. Claiming that it was a main factor in the migraines you’ve vented to him about. 
“So,” He speaks first, his voice gruff when he tries to cut the tension. “It seems like your thoracic alignment has improved greatly in the past few weeks.” You nod, grateful despite the awkwardness of the situation. “I feel much better thanks to you."
“I’m glad that I was able to help,” He replies, the sentiment still there despite coming off aloof. Was there a vein popping out of his neck? “Anyways, I was thinking after this appointment, we could limit visits to maybe… Once a month?”
Haechan might’ve been onto something when he said that you were addicted. Itching to get cracked almost every other day of the week, thriving off of that high that’s akin to walking on clouds. To go cold turkey and only experience such a luxury once a week almost feels devastating.
You’re hesitant, but you have enough pride to not be so desperate as to object. “We can do that, I guess.” You deflate into the leather chair, feeling oddly petulant for your age. 
Hopefully Jeno doesn’t catch your dismissiveness. You assume so at least when he carries on like normal. Gesturing towards the drop bed as per usual, you follow him helplessly like a pied piper. Pulling your skirt down when it hikes up with every other step, you’re inwardly chastising yourself for being so dumb. Of course this would make him feel awkward. You were basically setting yourself up for the easiest wardrobe malfunction ever– the worst part being that it was completely deliberate. 
“You know the drill,” He says when you stand idle. Hesitant to do so, knowing that he’s going to get an all access view to the racy panties you wore today. When you take too long you feel anxious at how he hollows his cheeks, his tongue poking out impatiently at your lack of initiative. “What’s wrong?” 
People were usually one or the other: book-smart or street-smart. Not Lee Jeno, though. If the doctorate that hung loud and proud behind him wasn’t proof enough, he was also much too intuitive and introspective for his good. The emotional intelligence that most people lack was evident with every conversation the two of you shared during your visits. You knew better than to think he’d be oblivious to such a drastic change in your wardrobe, every outfit prior paling in comparison to the stunt you’ve pulled today.
And if the way he’s vented about the other patients he’s had that have made a pass at him was any indication that he hated unsolicited advances– you’ve basically set yourself for not just rejection, but a strained relationship with someone whose company you’ve grown to enjoy too. 
On second thought, limiting visits to once a month would be ideal. Hopefully he’ll forget about it and the two of you can act like nothing happened.
You can tell his patience wears thinner when he crosses his arms across his chest, hip leaned against the top of the bed. Chelsea boot clad foot tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm. Left with no other choice than to suck it up and embarrass yourself, you lift each leg over the bed as slowly as possible, hands clutching at the hem as you lay back with your stomach taut with fear.
At this point, it’s like clockwork. Your head falling back into those large palms without fail. Jeno is always tucking the stray hairs that obstruct your features behind your ear, glad that you always kept your eyes closed whenever he’s this near. 
“You’re tense.” Jeno mumbles.
You apologize and try to relax as much as possible. Relinquishing the tension in your neck so you’re weightless against him. Such pathetic attempts are futile however, Jeno tsk’ing at your lack of comprehension to his instructions. 
“Your shoulders,” His fingers slide down the expanse of your neck to the span of the offending body part. The smooth glide eliciting a ticklish tingle that now has every inch of you clenching, especially between your thighs. Snatching your shaky hands that are gripping onto your skirt for dear life with each of his own, forcing them to your side. “Let go.”
The strength that he exuded against your resistance was terrifying. Your heart pounding against your chest erratically, fighting your hardest to shoo away the thought of him taking you right where you lay. 
Now that there’s nothing that stands in Jeno’s way, he carries on. Fighting a battle of his own, anything he looks at causing a problem downstairs. Look too high and he’s met with your twitching thighs. Look too low and the top of your chest is free residence. And trail even lower, your eyes are shut tight. Bottom lip caught between your teeth nervously, you almost look dumb. No, you do– but he thinks it’s so cute.
So cute and free for the taking. The height of his rolling chair leaves the top of your head right between his legs, close to his growing crotch. He thinks about how he could just unzip right now and sneak his cock right between those gorgeous lips. They’re a different shade than usual, and he loves how it looks on you. Was that another part of this little ploy of yours? 
Twisting your neck from side to side, the cacophonous snaps are accompanied by that sweet gasp. Inhaling a sharp bout of air when his grip on your neck is harsher than usual, fingertips digging into you even deeper than before. “Does it hurt…?” He croons, unable to control the grin that forms when he grazes down your forearms.
“A… a little,” You’re squeamish at the flicks of fire that his touch leaves behind, prickles of pleasure going off like bombs in a land mine. 
“Oh, poor baby,” He fakes sympathy, now roaming freely around your entire being, save for the spots you need him the most. “It’s because you don’t listen to me. I told you to let go.”
“I do listen to you.” You weakly protest, upset with yourself for displeasing him. A need to satisfy when you look up at him fondly, proving yourself that you can follow what he says.
“I don’t think you do,” He retorts coldly, returning a bleak expression that’s unlike the warm Jeno you’ve grown familiar with in the past few weeks. “I can tell you’ve been neglecting yourself. Have you still been stretching? You’re so… stiff. Do I have to loosen you up? Maybe we do need to keep seeing each other.” 
Such crude words stir unspeakable feelings in your lower half, now squirming against him when you try to flee from his hold. “Jeno, I–”
He doesn’t allow you to finish whatever senseless gibberish you had to say. Squishing your cheeks shut, his chest now flush against your back. Prominent nose now at the nape of your neck. Inhaling profusely, the mixture of your perfume and shampoo has him grunting in a sensory overload. 
“Just be quiet,” He spits. 
A single finger trails from where his lips are located at your nape, all the way down your spine. Admiring his work like an artist who has just created their magnum opus based off of their muse. Every vertebrae perfectly aligned, your back smooth beneath his touch. It was a lie– you took great care of yourself, everything from your posture to your confidence improving vastly. But while he had good intentions, you walking in with that skimpy outfit utterly destroyed his original plan of keeping your relationship strictly professional.
While he was able to build you to his flawless image, it gives him a surge of power to know that he can just as easily break you. 
He wants to. 
“Lay on your stomach.” He demands. A complete contrast to the kind guidance he typically provides, not helping his own case when he slides his arms under your abdomen. Flipping you over when you take too long to do as he says. Gasping at how quickly he tosses you, remorseless when you yelp out in surprise. 
His grip immediately seeks purchase on your back, maniacal when he continues the appointment like usual. The cold air conditioning hitting the crease of your bottom. Your eyes widen when you realize that your skirt has rode high enough for your ass to be exposed to Jeno’s wandering gaze. Wrists are immediately slapped away with a stinging pain when you try to protect your modesty. “No!” You scream.
“What did I say?” He pinches the inside of your thigh, taunting you for more of that sweet cry when he hurts you more. “See? You really don’t listen. I’ve warned you so many times, and look where that’s gotten you. Can’t you just be a good girl for me?”
“I already am!” You talk back, squealing when he smacks your exposed ass. “Fuck– Jeno!”
“I don’t think you are,” He scoffs, kneading the flesh that’s already forming a bruise from the slap. “Good girls don’t walk around with their asses out like little sluts.”
This mental flashbang of such a cruel Jeno paired with unrelenting caresses has a bout of wetness seeping from your core. Back arching pathetically when the aftershock travels to your clit. Biting your cheek when he laughs at your compromised position. Having to pull himself away from his desires for just a moment, remembering that you were here to be adjusted.
“See how bad you are for me? You made me forget what I was supposed to be doing.” His cadence now completely riddled with saccharine. “Let me take care of you, baby.”
Jeno has taken the words out your mouth. Physically incapable of forming a complete sentence, still in too much shock. Hands coming up to the top of your back, carrying on his adjustments much more harshly. One crack after another, that same air that fills your brain that you thrive off of. Moaning out in pleasure at the relief he provides. Both an angel and a devil with his hands.
“See?” He bends over, pulling your blouse down from your back to expose your shoulder blade. Laving his tongue against you before nipping at the crook of your jaw. Kissing whatever skin that your blouse will reveal. “If this is how obscenely you act when I’m just doing my job, I wonder how much louder you get when I do what I want.”
“What do you want?” You gasp out when he hikes your shirt up, now traveling down only to come back up, licking a fat stripe from the bottom all the way back up. Your hands grip into the sides of the drop bed, nails scratching crescents into the faux black leather. 
“Don’t be dense,” He grunts out while ripping your blouse over your head. Disposing of the material carelessly, meeting the fine slope of your back with an insatiable lust. The clasp of your lacy bra resembles a ribbon on top of a Christmas present. He unclasps it, eager to unwrap his gift. So close to achieving perfection, he loses himself to his desires. Mounting himself above you, a confined cock that feels massive now grinding between your thighs. He enjoys the struggle when you pathetically try to kick and squirm. “You know what I want.”
You do, and you know that you want it just as badly. Both day and night dreams of Jeno ravaging you with his brute strength. Marking you as his and bending you to close to impossible positions. Drooling at the thought of being fucked on every corner of his office loud enough to break the interior of the soundproof walls.
When you fall slack beneath him, he proceeds to strip you of your skirt. Still appalled by how lecherous you could be. The fall from grace as the friendly office lady to the woman he’s wanted to fuck senseless becoming a bane to his existence. 
“Please, Jeno…” You beg of him. Wanting him to do something, anything to satiate this new ache. Compared to the back pains you’ve experienced in the past, Jeno’s inflicted a new problem for you. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” He coos.
“H-hurts,” You sniffle, unable to cope with not being full of him. “I need you to fix it.”
“Hm, what hurts?”
A full set of teeth form into the most devilish grin when you reach behind you, taking his hand into yours and guiding it to your sopping pussy, urging him to feel around the seat of the destroyed fabric. Panties now ruined to the point it sticks into your folds, thighs twitching wantonly. It was degrading. To be close to completely naked under a fully clothed man, yet you couldn’t help but love it. “Here… hurts here.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?” 
“I need you, Jeno,” You practically sob. “Need you to fix it.”
As practitioner and patient, he had sworn long ago to provide his clientele with the best service. That applies now more than ever. Your wish was his command, and he plans on delivering on that tenfold. 
Climbing down your body, he stops past your ankles. Gripping at your panties and sliding them down your legs, growling at your glistening lips that shine bright under the white ceiling lights. Finding your ass once again and parting them for good measure, groaning when your cheeks jiggle back into position upon letting them go. “Gorgeous, beautiful body,” He praises you, fingers immediately darting towards your folds to give them an experimental flick, reeling at how easily you flinch under him. “And so fucking sensitive, too.”
Pushing up at your thighs, he has you in a downward dog, knees planted firmly on the drop bed and your back bent for him. Jeno’s hand sneaks around your belly and down your lower region, index and middle slotting around your clit. 
“Ahh–,” You gasp out loud, clasping a hand over your mouth at the attention to your most sensitive nerve. Wetting the tips of his fingers between your folds, traveling back instantly to caress circles into the nub. Lips coming down to the base of your back once again, already knowing many of your erogenous zones through the subtle fondling from your past visits. “Feels good.”
“Yeah?” He hums, pecking smooches down your ass. A one track mind to inhale your heady scent for himself.
“So good, fuck–!” Toppling over when he brings that same fat tongue to the center of your core, coated in spit when he shakes his head from side to side. Eating you out from the back with a vice, his two fingers still unrelenting against your clit. Pushing at your button and the tip of his appendage fighting to break past the barrier, succeeding with only little resistance. Eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel him against your walls, shameless slurping as your wetness trickles down his throat. “Oh my fucking god.”
“Tastes so good, baby.” He rasps, breaking away for a moment of breath. Replacing his tongue with the fingers that were attacking your clit. Wrapping his other arm around your thigh to keep you from falling off, entertained at how you pathetically try to support yourself by planting your head into your forearms. Tummy sucking in and gasping for breath when he finds your g-spot with embarrassing ease. Almost as if your body was made for him to navigate.
“So spoiled,” He shakes his head at your incessant moaning, not surprised that he was right on the money to think you’d be such a whiny bitch. “Pretty girl acts like a slut to get fucked and she gets what she wants. You’re lucky this cunt makes up for it.”
When you turn to look behind you, you’re met with a gaze devoid of anything but a need to fuck and claim, locked onto your pussy like it was the only thing he knew in this world. His lips slick with your juices, hair a brazen mess that poked in several directions– the epitome of sex. Your desires personified into a single being.
Catching the way you ogle him, he snickers at your dumbfounded face. Amping up the intensity of his finger fucking, his palm slapping against your core with every meeting of the hilt to your entrance. Fucked out gazes lock onto one another, and he needs to make it known that you don’t hold a candle to him. Opening his mouth to make a show of lolling his tongue out, coming back to get a taste of your puckered rim.
“Wait, Jeno, not there!” You claw at his hair, grappling harshly against his scalp. The burn causes him to wince, features scrunching yet remaining adamant on tasting every part of your body. Pinning you down at your back, you’re now unable to fight him when your chest falls completely flat. Your other arm rendered useless as it’s your anchor to keep you from completely toppling over. Despite your protests, the circles that he draws with his pink muscle has you singing contradictory praises.
That knot at the core of your abdomen constricts, losing autonomy over your body and granting Jeno complete control. Features twisting to euphoria when he reaches lengths further with his fingers than past partners have with their own cocks. And when he’s able to break past the barrier of your tightest barrier of your upper hole and he flicks at the spongy wall inside, your vision goes white.
A broken cry crashes along the four walls, droplets of sticky wetness decorating Jeno from the bridge of his nose to the top of his collarbones. Immediately breaking away from you to focus on fingering you until you’ve given him all of your cum. Jaw dropped wide open as he tries to catch every bout of squirt. Nails scratching at his scalp and lacing into the strands for stability, the pain only aiding in the ache of his restrained cock. The stuffing of the leather now seeping out from how deeply you’ve scratched against it, its wood frame misaligned with the weight that Jeno had planted on top of you. 
Your body is limp when your orgasm subsides, aftershocks still causing you to jolt when Jeno gives your pussy a light slap. 
“Best orgasm of your life, huh?” He gloats, cleaning off the remaining stickiness on his face with the back of his hand. Bringing his wrist that’s adorned by a Rolex up to his knuckles. Your essence now etched into every one of his senses. You lay almost lifeless and without a response. A pathetic sight that causes Jeno to scowl, offended that you could even think that he was done with you. 
Still trying to catch your breath, you hear a ghost of a whisper, metal clanking and clothes rustling. When you muster up the energy, you catch Jeno in your peripheral. Unbuttoning his black dress shirt and unbuckling his belt, the brand name material slipping from his clutches. The metal of the buckle clanking against the floor, his exposed collarbones shining with perspiration and your cum.
He circles around the bed to meet you, looking down at you with a snide smile when you realize that he’s now shirtless. It was true, he really did have visuals sculpted by the Gods. Broad shoulders on top of a pronounced chest, slimming down to a lean waist. 
 Slowly unzipping his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. Finally revealing his cock in all of its glory, monstrous in size. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever encountered. Slapping against his stomach and his precum covered tip meeting his bellybutton. It’s almost terrifying, there’s no way you could ever take him.
As if he’s read your mind, he cups your face sweetly like he’s done plenty of times before– yet it holds more of a threatening aura than any positive reinforcements. “Don’t be scared. I’ll make sure it fits.” He murmurs, loving how you instinctually take his thumb into your mouth.
When he leaves your wet cavern, he grabs at the base of his cock and places it just below your lips. “Spit.” He instructs, leaving no room for objection.
Dropping a thick glob of saliva, he immediately bobs it up and down to coat it along his length. A significant amount of precum aiding him even further in lubrication. The mix of fluids riddling the room with the pungent smell of sex. You’re both inebriated off of the prospect of what’s about to occur next.
Biceps are angled deliciously when he bends down to wrap his arms around your waist, flipping you back onto your back. A shadow of your sweet doctor fading in when he climbs on top of you once again, despite how beautifully he glows. You two nod at each other when he lines himself up with your core, thankful for the pool that has formed between your thighs. 
“Breathe for me, alright?” He says. It takes a great deal to control himself, wanting nothing more than to plunge into you in one go. Regardless, he controls his urges. His tip enters you slowly, the both of you gasping in unison at the newfound pleasure. Weeks of mixed signals now coming to fruition with every inch he goes deeper. “God, you’re fucking tight.”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jeno was so thick that it felt like he was splitting you in half, parting your walls and filling up every crevice inside. Each inch gives you a sense of fulfillment when you earn his praises. Showering you with compliments, affirming how good you’re making him feel and how wet you are.
“That’s my good little slut,” Jeno groans into your hair. Delivering a quick kiss to your ear before licking up the shell, hoping it distracts you from the strain. He stills after bottoming out, merely rutting around in place of fucking you mercilessly. Taking a moment to relish in the way your pussy encapsulates his cock, coating him with your sticky arousal to the point it leaks out.
Pain quickly fades into blissful pleasure. Cupping his jaw to urge him to look at you, you feel your chest burn at his handsome face. His ruined hair still looks perfect when it falls over his forehead messily, lips red and swollen from all he’s done to you. “I’m okay now, you can move.” You confirm, and the shift in his demeanor lets you know that you don’t have to tell him twice.
He starts with a few experimental thrusts, watching you closely and seeing what spots make you tick. Noting that you like when he puts power into his thrusts. Gripping the frame of the cushion your head rests on, he lifts himself to pull out until it’s only the tip that connects you. Granting you maybe a second of peace before immediately plunging back down, causing you to screech out in euphoria. 
From there, everything is fair game. Bodies slapping against one another when he grips your ankles and spreads them apart. Fucking you with purpose, everything from his hairline to his abs are covered in sweat. The shine makes his skin glow gold, every taut muscle accentuated by the perspiration. 
While your pussy is a delight and has him throwing his head back, he still has so many fantasies that he wants to fulfill. Releasing your ankles, your legs plop down weakly. Pulling out of you and leaving you empty, causing you to shriek at the loss. Scrambling to sit up when he stands up, trying to grab at his cock to lead him back inside. “No, no, no–!”
Nothing could have prepared you for when he lifts you up from the bed with nothing more than a grunt, delivering another stinging slap when you scream at him. Slapping at his shoulders to let you down even if your body betrays you by wrapping your legs around his waist. Traveling only a few paces, he slams you against the nearest wall. Framed photos and contents in bookshelves shaking, gasping out when he realigns his cock with your entrance.
When he dons a blank expression, as if wondering what to do next, you furrow your eyebrows together. Pussy still empty and in need of being filled, you whine. “Jeno, hurry, please.”
He doesn’t thrust up into you however, instead he plants you down onto his cock. Using his pure arm strength to lift you up and down like a fuckdoll. His forearms blazing with bulging veins. Your back is burning as it scrapes against the wall deliciously. Amazed at such fortitude, you continue to cry out when he hits that spot inside you with precision each time. A babbling mess when your chests collide and he licks up the salty tears that you’ve shed, laughing into your ear mischievously.
“I hope you know that nobody will ever be able to fuck you like this,” He laughs out, grip on your ass spreading the cheeks apart to accentuate his point. “No matter who you find in the future– they’ll never be as good as me. You know that right, baby?” 
You bob your head to agree with whatever you caught from his sentence, stroking his ego just the way he likes. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t formulate your own thoughts at this point. Much like the slight high you experience whenever Jeno had adjusted you before, your head light and empty– you now feel it at its utmost potential. Unable to control your body when a trail of spit leaks out of the corner of your chin.
Jeno stares at you fondly, arms growing just a tad tired. He transfers the effort into his legs, planting his weight into his calves to stabilize you. Allowing for one of your legs to fall to go even deeper, your other thigh still folded in. Holding your head with his hand, he knows you’ve floated into another state of being, your pussy unconsciously clasping around him every time he angles just right.
“What a dumb, pretty baby,” He practically sings, utterly in awe at how fucked out he’s gotten you. Licking off the drool from your lip with the intent to clean you up nicely. Dropping your leg that’s hiked up, he lifts you once again. Now leading you to his desk, letting you down only to bend you over. “Let’s finish together, okay?”
Moaning out something that sounded like a yes, he takes what he can get when he reenters you for the third time. Eyes fluttering shut when you surround him once again. “Think this pussy might be the death of me.” He grunts.
“Your cock is soo good,” You mewl, your breasts cool against the mahogany of his desk. Seeking sanctuary by grabbing onto whatever trinkets or paperweights that litter the surface. The back of your thighs aching from trying to keep up with Jeno’s relentless pace. “So, so, big.”
“Yeah?” He lifts a sweat dripped brow, pistoning his hips with generosity. Taking care of his patient will always be his top priority. Fingers meeting your clit one last time, swiping at it with ease from how wet it is. “Cum for me now, baby. You earned it. Did so well for me.”
Clenching his thighs, he fucks into you one last time. Pushing into your body with his own so forcefully that you ride up the desk. One last cry to the empty vicinity, nothing registers except for Jeno. His scent, how he feels, those hands that have gotten you into so much trouble– he really fucked you so good. So good that all you know at the moment is his name. Your orgasm washing over you, pussy clenching impossibly tightly he roars. More squirt shooting out of you, a sticky mess falling onto the carpet floor of his office.
In a few more self indulgent thrusts of his own, Jeno pulls out completely. Pumping himself no more than two times before his cum flies out. Bobbing up and down to get out every last drop of creamy white, painting your beautiful back with his liquid. Harsh gasps are paired with your patternless pants, the both of you were spent.
Jeno decides to utilize the last of his energy for good. Lifting you up once again and walking towards the comfortable loveseat that rests in the corner of the room. The sticky fluids aren't much of a problem while you catch your breaths. He wraps his arms around to hold you in his lap, your head resting against his chest. Rubbing circles into your neck and whispering sweet praises, waiting patiently for you to come back to earth.
“You okay?” He asks when your eyelids flutter up slowly, that shine back in your face to let him know that you’ve recovered. “Lost you there for a little bit.” He teases, pinching at your cheek playfully.
“Oh, shut up.” You pitifully try to push him away, much to no avail. Flashing you a charming grin that rivals the sun itself. “I knew that chiropractors were quacks.”
“Not my fault you’re hot as fuck.”
“I said ‘shut uup’,” You whine, dropping your head into his shoulder to give yourself more time to recuperate. “Let me rest. I think you’ve somehow caused more damage to my back than heal it.”
It’s obvious that you’re overexaggerating, but Jeno can’t help but accept the backhanded compliment with pride. Admiring the relaxed smile you try to hide from him, he pats your hair that’s sticking up back down.
“Guess we’ll just have to keep seeing each other then.” He replies, falling into a slumber himself.
“We’re okay right?” You tilt your head curiously, now fully rested and cleaned up. Jeno having to rush the both of you to the staff only bathroom when Jisung left for break, a few scanty touches here and there. 
Hands lodged into his pockets, Jeno is even more handsome with the afterglow of sex. You hope you’re at least a fraction as presentable as he is. “If you’re okay, I’d say we’re just peachy. However–”
“Oh god.” You dread the worst case scenario of being blacklisted and having to find another chiropractor.
“Will you let me finish?” He glowers at you, making you shut up immediately. Now that you know that Lee Jeno is not to be messed with. “Anyways,” He continues. “I think you deserve a treat for being so good.”
Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he presents you with a business card. A complete contrast to the simplicity of Jeno’s, a completely black square with red accents. Before you get a chance to read what’s written, he speaks again. “That’s my colleague here at the complex. He’s actually right across the hall.”
Now given the opportunity, you find that Jeno has referred you to a nail bar. “And what is this treat you’re offering?”
“Well, if you’re ever interested in getting a manicure or pedicure, you’ll want to go to him. He’s the best in town. Nobody does nail art like him,” He chuckles. “Let me know if you’re interested. I’ll ask him to give you a discount.”
If there’s anything you’ve learned from these past few weeks, it’s that investing in yourself a little goes a long way. Spending too much time worried about necessities that require minimal maintenance, you’ve forgotten to indulge yourself along the way. Looking down at your nail beds whose cuticles you’ve failed to tend to, you take Jeno’s offer into consideration.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” You give him your warmest smile. “Can I ask you something though?”
“Go for it.”
“Haechan told me it’s been hard to schedule with you recently, but I’ve been seeing you pretty often.” You try to phrase it as humbly as possible, not wanting to come off as arrogant. “Is there a reason for that?” 
“I mean, you did need more adjustment than my other patients who have been long time regulars. But I guess I got a little ahead of myself.” He boxes his nose, and for the first time ever you think you’ve caught Dr. Lee Jeno’s cool exterior slipping. “You have a really nice ass.”
“Thanks.” You deadpan. “You have nice arms– and legs, and a really nice… nevermind.”
Shaking his head at you, he walks you out when you take your leave. Bidding you adieu with a friendly pat, the both of you thankful that the heated sex hasn’t obstructed your relationship as patient and doctor at all.
You reach high into the sky, feeling like you’re at your absolute best. Wondering what else you can do to improve your state of being. Thinking back to the business card that you had pocketed, you locate the other door adjacent to Jeno’s. Much to his description, there is a sign that indicates that there is very much a beauty salon on the other side of that door.
Shrugging to yourself, you decide you’ll sleep on his offer. Making your way to the front desk to find Jisung eating away at his meal. You realize you’ve already grown fond of how this business is run. 
“Come back and see us!” Jisung waves at you, to which you return with equal enthusiasm. “Hope to see you again soon!”
You realize it’s inevitable when you exit the front lobby and step out into the parking lot. The large Neo Therapy Practitioners sign standing proud at the awning above you, the new business card taking up space in your purse–
You’ll be seeing them alright.
end (☺) -> next
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author’s note: if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it. 
i really want to thank panty nonnie who i’ve been in contact with through dms and have grown very close with in the past month. they’ve been an absolute angel and i couldn’t have gotten over my writer’s block without them. so, if you’re reading this (again hehe) just know that you’re the best and am more than grateful for all you’ve done for me. <3
5K notes · View notes
yutasthetic · 24 days ago
The Athlete
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: footballer!Hoshi x journalist!reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞:  fluff, slight angst, smut, sports au, strangers to lovers au, slow burn-ish
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, throat grabbing, slight choking,  oral (m and f receiving), (semi-rough face fucking) fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, missionary, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, mentions of parental death, bit of a tear jerker
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6.2k
𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are assigned to do an interview with Kwon Soonyoung, the trailblazing athlete everyone calls Hoshi. But as you spend more time with him, you start to see there are more layers to him than football. 
𝐀𝐍: A massive thank you to @wordycerty for reading this for me and reassuring me about this. This is the longest fic I have written. Also thank you to @playmetheclassics​ for reading over a bit of this as well. Appreciate you guys ❤
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“Mr. Kwon is ready to see you now.” You get up from your seat, stretching a little before following the little woman named Helen in front of you. She leads you down a massive hallway full of sports memorabilia, making small conversation along the way. This isn’t your first time here; the enormous stadium was built five years ago with enough money to feed the homeless for ten years. Sometimes you are here to watch a football game, but you are mostly here on business. 
You are a journalist working for the country's most prominent television broadcasting company at the top of your field. You’ve met many celebrities in your area, some of whom you have become close to. Unfortunately, you have also met some not-so-nice ones, but fortunately, in your line of work, you don’t have to deal with them unless they come to you via their company. You love your job, and today you will interview the hot shot athlete from The Tigers, Kwon Soonyoung, known nationwide as Hoshi.  
“He is finishing up a photo shoot, so he will be all yours soon,” Helen announces, opening a wide door. “You can just sit in here until he comes.” ‘I thought you said he was ready to see me,’ you think to yourself, annoyed that you have to wait longer. It’s not like you have anything else to do, but you value being professional and, most importantly, not wasting your time. She leads you to the main room where the photoshoot is happening, with Hoshi standing in front of the photographer. 
If you didn’t have quick reflexes, you would’ve run into Helen, knocking her on her face. He poses for the camera, wearing a gray crop top sweater, showing his firm abs. His black basketball shorts fit his hips perfectly, and the tiny veins on his lower stomach lead you to thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of. This is your first time seeing him this close in person, and he is every bit as hot as everyone says he is. You thank Helen as you set your things on a glass table, carefully taking out your recorder and setting your questions aside for when he is finished. “Alright, buddy. We are done,” the photographer announces, shutting off his camera. “Finally, I’m ready to get some grub,” Hoshi exclaims loudly, rubbing his stomach. You make eye contact, with Hoshi winking at you and returning it with small heads up. You are used to guys, and sometimes women hitting on you. He will have to do better than that. “Hi there,” you rise out of your seat. “I’m—” “I know who you are,” his tone is smooth like silk. “You’re the pretty lady who gets to talk sports with us.” You shake hands, reaching for your chair before Hoshi unexpectedly grabs you. His hands are soft, and his nails are clipped and clean, the results of a very good manicurist. “Sorry darling, but I’m hungry,” he explains. “I ordered some lunch for us in the conference room. I hope that's okay.” You blink, slowly removing your hand and clearing your throat. You aren’t opposed to eating a little early, and it is not like you haven’t worked and eaten at the same time before. “Sure,” you nod. “I could use a bite, anyway.” You gather your things, and he leads you across the hall, a room set up with sandwiches from a popular local deli. The food there is your favorite, and your stomach rumbles as soon as you sit down. “Well, this is quite the setup,” you observe, pulling out your tape recorder. “I hope I am making a good first impression,” he winks at you. “Maybe you are,” you flirt back. You cross your legs, your skirt rising slightly, showing off your smooth legs. Hoshi’s checking you out, and you smirk, used to the attention that you get when interviewing athletes. You know you are gorgeous, your best feature being your warm eyes. You use that to your advantage, making people feel comfortable as they tell you about themselves. You finish setting up and take a small sandwich, biting into it and feeling instant gratification. Next, Hoshi pulls a chair in front of you with his own food, taking a bite of a pickle. “You look content,” he remarks playfully. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw the food,” you confess. Your face heats up, and you regain composure, wiping your mouth with a napkin before turning on your recorder. You can feel his eyes on you, your skin tingles, and you feel warm, like you are basking in the sun. Hoshi is not the first person you have interviewed you found attractive, but you always make it a point to be professional at all times. It gets messy in the world of sports journalism, and after seeing what your peers have gone through, you want no parts of it. No matter how cute he is. “So,” you clear your throat. “We are here at the championship game finally. How do you feel?” “I’m pumped,” Hoshi perks up. “This has been a long time coming.” “I watched your game, where you ran the game-winning touchdown. What was going through your mind when the clock hit zero and you were at the goalpost?” He slouches back in his seat, his hand laid over his right leg. “I thought, ‘it’s about damn time,’” he remarks. “I want to lead the team to victory once more.” You see the passion behind those brown eyes, and you feel his conviction in his voice. You have seen him play before, and you can feel he is one of the best wide receivers in the nation. The way he eyes the field and manages to outmaneuver the cornerbacks, you deduce that he is an intelligent player. “I know everyone asks similar questions, so I want to ask you something different.” You pause to take a sip of water. “What inspires you to get out there on the field?” He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifts in his seat, a falter of sadness reflected on his face. It catches you a bit off guard, not expecting to see this side of him so early. “My dad,” he says. “My dad died before I was drafted, and I want to do this for him.” You offer a small, kind smile, feeling his pain from your own experience. You lost your dad in a car accident the day you were hired by the company. He was your only parent growing up and your biggest supporter. That was a few years ago, and that pain feels fresh every day. “We can take a break, if you want,” you offer, turning off the tape recorder. “I know how it feels to lose a dad, and I understand if you need a moment.” Your eyes meet each other, understanding the shared feeling of losing a parent said without words. He shakes his head, takes a sip of water, and sits up straighter in his seat. “Nah, it’s okay,” his voice is gruff. “This isn't really the time for the feels right now.” You nod, turning back on the recorder and returning to your questions. 
“What is the first thing you will do when you win the championship?” “Ask you out on a date.” You snort, not expecting that to be his answer. But you have to give it to this guy; he is bold. “I’m serious,” he asserts. “When we win, I will find you on that field and ask you out on that date.” “You’re awfully forward,” you muse. “You barely know me.” “You’re right,” Hoshi responds. “I hardly know you. But I like what I see. I know what you do, and you do it well. You’ve been on my radar for a while now.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words. Then, you ask him more questions about his family life and sports records when Helen comes in, telling him it's time to go into the locker room. You check your timer, noting that you had been talking to him for forty minutes and time flew by fast. “I appreciate your candor, Hoshi,” you say, gathering your things. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk with me.” “Of course,” Hoshi declares. “Don’t forget, I am going to ask you out on that date in a couple of weeks.” You shake your head, not bothering to hide the grin on your face. “Okay,” you chuckle. “We’ll see.”
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You stare at your computer screen, tapping your pen nervously as you read every comment on your article about Hoshi. Most of them are positive, a tremendous relief to you because you worked on it to help your readers see another of him. Of course, there were a few troll comments here and there, but you never let those get to you. Some people just want to be seen, and you’d like to think you have tough skin. You have to, in this industry anyway. 
It’s been a week in a half since you saw Hoshi; the interaction is still fresh on your mind, leaving an everlasting impression on you. As everyone says, he is charming and witty, but seeing it firsthand hits differently. In addition, he has a southern charm that makes you smile, reminding you of your upbringing in the South. You shouldn’t think about him this much; you barely know the guy. ‘Get it together,’ you are lost in your thoughts. ‘Just because you haven’t had sex in a while doesn’t mean you should bounce on the first person giving you attention.’ 
“Great job on the article.” You yelp in surprise, not noticing that your boss Gail Kim is beside you. “You scared me,” you titter, clutching your chest. “But thank you.” “So,” Gail pulls up a seat next to you. “Danielle will not be able to interview the winning football team this Sunday. She has covid.” “Oh, my god. Is she okay?” You pause before realizing that was a stupid question. “Wait, of course, she’s not. What the hell is wrong with me? How is she feeling?” “She’s… okay, I guess,” she mutters. “But you know the quarantine period is five days, which overlaps into the game.”
There is a slight pause, then it dawns on you. “Am I going to be interviewing the team?” “Yes,” Gail reveals. “I need you to step in her place.” Interviewing at any big event is the highlight of anyone’s career, let alone the championship. You’ve been on the red carpet at the Oscars, the Grammys, and any other prestigious event, but this has been your dream. One more thing to knock off your bucket list. “Yeah, I can do it,” you say eagerly. “Great. I knew I could count on you.” Gail gets up from her seat. “Get your questions ready, and I want them in my inbox by 5 pm tomorrow.” “Yes, ma'am,” you joke, playfully giving a salute. You look at the time, noticing it is after five and time for you to go. You shut down your computer and lamp, gathering your purse before almost bumping into a man holding a bouquet of flowers. “Hi, I think this is for you,” he says, handing the flowers. “Thank you?” your voice trails off as he walks away. Your fingers trail over your favorite flowers, the prettiest roses and Shasta daisies you have ever seen. They smell fresh, as if they were picked from a garden, wrapped nice and tight in pink foil paper. You are aware of your coworkers staring at your gift and your good friend Gina marveling at the flowers. 
“Is it Valentine's day already?” she quips. “Who’s the lucky person?”
“I don’t know,” you smell the flowers. “I should thank them, though.”
A small white card is snugged in the middle of the bouquet, and you pull it out, reading what’s displayed in beautiful penmanship. Just a little idea of what our date is going to be like. -H “Wait, who’s H?” Gina questions. “That’s not who I think it is—” “Shh,” you cut off. “Walk with me.” You both beeline it to the elevators, feeling relieved when you step in and no one joins you. Your heart is beating out of your chest, your adrenaline pumping like you are keeping a horrible secret. “So, listen,” you begin. “You know how I had that interview with Hoshi?” Gina nods, pressing the parking level button. “I remember.” “Well, he was flirting with me heavily and then basically promised to ask me out on a date at the game.” Gina’s eyes widen, and you try to surprise your grin, failing miserably as you press your lips together. “So, are you gonna go out with him?” “I-I don’t know,” you stammer. “He’s direct, and he’s cute… but I am so into work right now. I finally got where I dreamed of being, and I don't want anyone thinking it's because I got with some hot football player.” “Oh please. Fuck these people!” Gina exclaims. “You got here because of your merit and hard work. Plus, it's been a while, and you need to get laid, my friend.”
The elevator doors open at the worse time, with two men on the other side with curious eyes. You excuse yourself quietly, speed walking to your car to hide from further embarrassment. “Jesus, Gina,” you mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispers loudly. “How the hell was I supposed to know there were people at the other end?!” You shake your head, turning your keys into your car. You know she meant well, and you aren’t really mad at her. Just embarrassed that two random men know about your sex life or lack thereof. 
“So, are you gonna call him?” Gina probes. “Are you gonna thank him for the flowers?”
“Mm, I should,” you mutter. “Let me get on that.” Gina nods, and you say your goodbyes, getting in your car and driving out of the parking center. Then, you send a voice message to your contact at the Tigers organization, asking for his number to “verify something” you wrote in your article. His number is in your inbox a few minutes later, ready to be called. Deep down, you are starting to feel giddy, like a young girl with a school crush on a popular boy. It’s not the first time you’ve received flowers from anyone, especially shown who’s shown interest in you. But something about him is bold and different… maybe you’ve watched too many clips of this man. “Hey siri, call xxx-xxx-xxxx.” The phone rings twice before he picks up. “Hi there, beautiful,” his voice comes through smooth as silk. “Hi,” you click your tongue. “So uh, I got your flowers. How did you know what to get?” “It’s just like I told you; I’ve had my eye on you for a while, and I pay attention.” “Uh huh,” you hum. “Well, I want to thank you for them. They are very nice.” “Anytime, gorgeous,” he replies. “I gotta go, game stuff. But I’ll see you on Sunday?” “Yeah, you will.” You end the call as you pull up to your condo. You aren’t willing to break your rules yet, and you see nothing wrong with getting to know him. It can’t hurt to go on one date with him, right?
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“There are two minutes and forty-eight seconds left in the fourth quarter, with the Tigers trailing behind by five points. The coach has called for a timeout.”
You nod at your cameraman, Jeff, pinning your mic together on your shirt before grabbing your mic and leaving the press box. The short walk to the field is buzzing with personnel and other reporters fixing up their hair or going over last-minute questions before the celebration begins. You bite your lip, the outcome of the game leaving a fit of nervous bubbles in your stomach as you watch the field. You want the Tigers to win, not just because Hoshi is the team's star wide receiver, though that is a plus. You and Hoshi have been texting since he sent flowers to your job, mainly flirting and getting to know him through his funny innuendos. So far, you’ve learned he is a mama’s boy, has a big heart, and loves tigers. You can tell he is a good person and cares about the people around him. It’s not like you daydream or wish for the impossible, but you hope he asks you on that date tonight. “Seventeen seconds left on the clock, Choi throws a fifty-yard pass to Hoshi… MY GOD! HOSHI CATCHES THE BALL AND MAKES THE TOUCHDOWN! TIGERS HAVE WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME!”
The crowd erupts in thunderous applause, confetti falling from the stadium's roof, and fans from all over jumping and shrieking with joy. Hoshi is raised in celebration, holding the football in his hand, screaming victory with tears in his eyes. The other reporters rush out to interview the teams, but you know better, not wanting to get mixed in with the crowd of personnel, family, and friends on the field. You wait until the coaches have shaken hands and the crowd disperses a bit before walking onto the field. The stage is already set up, with the organization's commissioner standing on the podium, trophy in hand. Making your way to the stage, you review your questions in your head one last time before the team arrives. “We will be ready in thirty seconds,” the cameraman tells you. You nod, turning around and bumping squarely into someone’s chest, your face red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m such a clutz—” “It’s okay, darlin’,” that familiar buttery voice responds. “You look really pretty.”
Hoshi is gazing at you, his short blonde hair messy from his helmet, his good looks more evident than before. You can’t help beam at him; unbeknownst to you, you are falling for his charm. “Thank you,” you grinned, moving in front of him. Your body slightly rubs against his, the tension small but noticeable enough to set your insides on fire. This is a bad time to be horny, and Hoshi doesn’t make things any better. “So that date—” The theme song comes on, cutting him off, and you move in front of the camera. You introduce Commissioner Han to the crowd, listening to talk about the game and listing off the players' achievements. “And this year’s MVP goes to… Hoshi!” The cheers shake the podium, Hoshi moves up to the front to accept the MVP trophy. You two make eye content, a wide smile spread on his face. You stand next to him, mic in hand, watching the wave of emotions seen on his face. “What is going through your mind right now?” He doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes filled with tears as he breaks down and sobs. He didn’t have to answer the question for you to understand how he felt. This is supposed to be the happiest moment of his life, but the one person who wanted to see him succeed the most isn’t there. You know that feeling all too well. “Dad,” he catches his breath. “I hope you are proud of me. I did it.” Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion; his teammates hugged him, giving him words of encouragement that lifted his spirits. It brought you back to when you found out your dad died right after you were hired for this dream job. He always rooted for you and was your best friend, your only family. Losing him was a cross you never thought you would have to bear, and if you are being honest with yourself, it's something you can never get over. The mood makes you sentimental, and a single tear falls down your cheek. Not wanting to be noticed, you wipe it away quickly. You wait for him to regain his composure before he finishes the interview, the atmosphere full of love and admiration for Hoshi. You couldn’t have been more proud. “Any last words?” 
There is another pause, a twinkle in his eye. “Yes. Will you go on that date with me?” You cock your eyebrow, trying to surprise your smirk. His teammates scream in loud cheer, the crowd telling you to say yes. You admit you were caught off guard, the date not even on your mind after seeing him cry. But Hoshi got you good, and you can’t say you aren’t impressed. You nod, not bothering to hide your smile anymore. “Yes, I’ll go on that date with you.”
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The next few weeks were hectic, the championship high still going strong in the city. You were assigned other projects, and Hoshi was busy celebrating his win with his team. His “proposal” of a date on national tv put you more in the public eye, with people all over wanting to know about your relationship. Your boss loved it, asking you every other day about him and mentioning the buzz the department was getting. Gina was specifically entertained, teasing you every chance she got. “So, where’s your star player?” Gina taunts you, sitting on your desk.
“I… don’t know,” your voice trails off, turning around to face her. “Why, what's up?” “Mmmm, do you think he has a single teammate looking for a good time?” “Jesus, Gina,” you snort. “How am I supposed to know? I haven’t even gone on a date with the man yet.” “Speaking of that, when is that happening?” Gina probes. “I mean, it's been a few weeks since he’s asked.” “Your guess is as good as mine,” you muse. “We’ve been talking a lot, so maybe he has something planned.” Gina returns to her desk, and you finish working on your projects. It’s been a welcoming distraction from being anxious about your date whenever that happens. It’s not like you and Hoshi haven’t talked since then. You talk every day, either via text or video chatting. He greets you good morning and makes an effort to make sure he is the last person you say good night to. You have a lot in common in your shared interests in travel and childhood stories about your dads. Talking with him is comfortable; his positive energy is a small light in your hectic life that you greatly appreciate.
He gets more handsome every time you see him, and you finally see what everyone is raving about. He’s a small-town boy with a big heart, always talking about how much he loves his mom and how much he provides for her. It made you wish you had a family like that, someone you could rave about and show a lot of love to. It also doesn’t help that he’s a looker; your favorite part of him is his dimples. The way they randomly appear when he’s talking always sends you into a tailspin, but you’d never tell him that, of course. A few hours pass, and you check the time, realizing it is time to go. You finished most of your research and decided to do the rest at home, wanting to be in the rush hour traffic. You have a three-day weekend, and you plan to enjoy yourself by all means. You sit up to gather your things, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Hoshi calling you, your heart skipping a few beats. “Hi,” you answer quickly. “Hey, beautiful. Are you done for the day?” “I might be,” you toy with the string on your purse. “Why, what's up?”
“Okay, I’m coming right up!” “What—” He hung up before you could fully react, butterflies quickly filling your stomach. You check yourself on your camera, doing a once-over just before the elevator opens. He strides in, wearing a black bomber jacket, fitted jeans, sneakers, and a white shirt with a single gold chain. He is holding the prettiest bundles of white roses, presenting them to you as you walk toward him. “H-Hi there,” you stutter. “I wasn’t expecting you here.” “I know, I know,” Hoshi responds, pulling you into a hug. “We never planned that date, and I figured why not now? So I worked it out with your boss and freed your schedule up for me.” “Oh, did you now?” You turn around and look towards Gail’s office, who is standing at the door, a smirk on her face. 
“Well, are you ready?”
You beam at him, pushing the strap of your purse over your shoulder. The butterflies are still there, and your heart is beating a million thumps per second, but at this moment, you are ecstatic. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m ready.” He suddenly picks you up, carrying you out of the office while your coworkers cheer you on. Feeling incredibly shy, you hide in his jacket until you reach the elevators. Once you’re in and you hear the doors close, you peak and look at him, meeting his dark brown eyes. “You are something else,” you giggle. “Do you plan on carrying me all the way to the car?” “I didn’t plan to,” he confirms. “But now I will.” You roar with laughter as the elevator stops, Hoshi keeping his promise and carrying you to his black Jeep. You hold on to him tightly, admitting to yourself that you don’t want to let go. He senses your earnestness, opening the door while holding onto you with one arm. His strength turns you on, your mind wondering if he would use that same strength in the bedroom. You know he has a nice body, and you’ve imagined him being on top of you with your legs open, pounding you until you came over and over. It’s gotten you through some nights you felt needy, your trusty dildo doing the trick until you can have the real thing. “Do you like steak?” You blurt out as he sits in the car. 
“Yeah, why?” “I make a mean steak and potatoes, and if you don’t mind swinging by the market, I can cook for you,” you offer. Hoshi shuts your door and goes to the driver’s seat, turning on his engine. “Making me dinner already?” He playfully rubs his stomach. “I might just have to marry you, woman.”
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The crackling sound of oil and the smell of steak fill up your condo quickly. Two wine glasses on the counter, filled halfway with red cabernet, one of them stained with your lipstick. You made due on your promise, making steak and mashing up your potatoes to serve with your meal. Your grilled asparagus was already finished, set to the side to cool off. Hoshi watches you with curiosity, and you don’t mind it, as you pride yourself on being a good cook. Since your dad passed, you haven’t offered to cook for anyone, and you feel a bit rusty, second-guessing yourself on a simple recipe. “Are you okay?” Hoshi chuckles. “Your hands are shaking.”
“Uh, yeah,” you fib, grabbing the salt. “It’s just been a while since I’ve cooked for anyone.”
You add your milk and butter to the potatoes, mixing them with garlic, salt, and pepper until they are fluffy to your liking. You feel Hoshi move around you, turning over your steaks in your pan. Every time he gets close to you, you tense up, your inner goddess begging you to give in. It doesn’t help that he is so stinking cute with a nice body. You are in deep trouble. “I’m not a good cook. Terrible actually,” he says. “But I know how to make a steak.”
“Oh, what would I do without you?” You tease. “Well, let’s hope we never find out.”
The steaks are finished several minutes later, and you make the plates, sitting them at the table while he waits. You hold your breath while you watch him take his first bite, sitting on pins and needles as you hope he likes it. 
“Damn, woman,” he swallows. “You know how to throw down.”
Feeling proud, you dig into your own food, discussing your day and upcoming projects. Then, he talks about an upcoming family trip to the mountains, where he owns a huge cabin. You think about the time your dad took you to one for Christmas, waking up to snow falling from the sky and holiday music playing throughout the place. It was one of the happiest moments of your life, and you would give anything to relive that again. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Hoshi asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 
“Oh yeah,” you get up quickly with your empty plate. “I’m fine. I am just gonna get some more wine.”
You wash your plate at the sink, taking a moment to get together before running right into Hoshi, getting barbecue sauce on his shirt.
“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I am so sorry. Let me clean that for you.”
Before he could protest, you already have a detergent stain remover in your hands, scrubbing the sauce off vigorously. Yet, you can still see the stain there, and in the spur of the moment, you do the unthinkable. 
“Take your shirt off.”
“What?” Hoshi says nervously, playfully clutching his shirt.
“Come on,” you chuckle. “I am going to throw it in the washer.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. Take off your shirt, or I will do it for you.”
He cocks an eyebrow, a devious smirk on his face, and you gulp, realizing what you got yourself into. He closes the space between you two, the tension building like a balloon ready to pop. 
“So do it. Take it off.”
Your fingers flirt seductively with the hem of his shirt, pulling it off slowly. You didn’t hear the shirt fall to the floor; you were too distracted by the sexy man in front of you. He licks his lips, and you bite yours, allowing his arms to wrap around your waist. Your face is inches away from his, your insides clawing at you, begging you to take him. 
“You're dangerous,” you murmur. “Am I?” 
“Yeah. I like it, though.”
He leans in and kisses you; it feels magnificent like fireworks lit up in the sky. Your heart is pounding, and your breathing is heavy as you drink him in, walking backward towards your bedroom. Both your clothes come off in a blur, your naked bodies pressed against each other, engulfed in a flame of passion and sensuality that had been brimming for so long. “You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispers as his lips trail down your neck. Your skin tingles as if you are finally being awakened by his touch, your hands clinging to his hair as he reaches your breasts. His tongue swirls seductively around your hardened mounds, his warm hands cupping your ass and giving it a nice squeeze. Your center is dripping for him as if he read your mind, his fingers slowly trickling to your tight hole. “Already wet for me, baby?” He teases, his thumb rubbing your clit softly. “Y-yes,” you murmur, jolts of electricity spreading between your legs. He licks each nipple, sucking on them until they are nice and ripe, then makes his way down between your legs. Finally, he stands up, his hand pumping his cock as he licks his lips in fascination at your pretty pussy. You knew he had a nice body since you saw a peak at the photo shoot, but seeing him naked, sexy, and rock hard because of you sends you into an internal spiral. “I gotta taste you.”
He licks his lips again, getting on his knees and pulling you closer to him. Then, without any warning, his tongue attacks your nectar, slurping happily as your body radiates from pleasure.  Your hand clutches onto your breast, pinching yourself as he dives into your sweet heat, ravishing you like a starved man. Your legs tremble as he slips his delicate fingers inside you, instantly making you crave his cock. “Hoshi, please,” you moan softly, lifting your head up, so you watch him. “Make me cum.”
Without delay, he laps his tongue against your clit, your moans turning into screams, and then whimpers as his fingers pump into you faster. He growls as he dives further into your cunt, the pressure building deep inside you as you feel it coming. He goes deeper into your dripping sex, his tongue flattening your clit, sending you over the edge as you finally cum in his mouth. Your hands grip his hair tightly as you ride his face, screaming beautiful profanities as your body goes through this incredible high. Finally, his fingers slip out of you slowly, and you take his hand, sucking your juices off each of his fingers. “F-fuck,” you breathe heavily. “I don’t think I’ve ever come like that.”
“Well, look forward to more of those, sweetheart,” he murmurs, standing up.
His hand is pumping his cock vigorously, beads of precum dripping out of him and making your lips water. Instinctively, you kneel in front of him, taking his cock and sucking on his head. His legs shudder, and he lets out a low howl, an evil grin on your face as he does not know what he’s gotten into. You love sucking dick when it’s the right person. 
“It’s your turn to be taken care of, baby.”
You shove his thick cock into your mouth, sucking him gleefully and savoring his taste. You wrap your fingers around his base, giving it a tight squeeze before running down his shaft, your slobbering mouth sucking his balls, your tongue swirling around in a way that makes him shift his stance. You return to his length, letting him hit the back of your throat as he fucks your face roughly. Tears roll down your face at his roughness, but you don’t mind it; your clit throbs at the thought of this soon filling your tight cunt. 
He cocks his head back, clearly enjoying the divine feeling of your warm mouth. His hand has a tight grip on your hair, his strokes slowly before pulling himself out of your mouth, pulling you up to your feet, and kissing you deeply. He lays you back on the bed, marveling over your naked body before climbing over you, parting your legs with his knee. You hold your breath, watching him slowly sink into you, filling you up until you take him whole. “Are you okay?”
Hoshi kisses you as he strokes you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. The moans between you two are synced together, his hips bucking as his thrusts are faster and deeper. The hard-smacking noise of bodies colliding together echoed in your bedroom. He grunts with each thrust, his hands grabbing your throat and, with your nod of approval, giving it a slight squeeze. 
“Fuck,” you mew, biting your lip. “Just like that, please.”
You are soaked for him, the squishiness of your tight core heard with each pound into you. The tighter he squeezed, the more aroused you became, your walls clenching around him. It had been a while since you had good dick, and this was very much worth the wait. He suddenly releases his hand from your throat, pulling you into sloppy kiss, deep pants against your skin as he fucks you senselessly. 
“I’m so close,” he putters, looking into your eyes. 
You were about to reach your peak, the coil threatening to snap below as he lifted your legs over his shoulder. Your hand finds your clit, rubbing it hard until you scream his name, your orgasm crashing down on you like an avalanche. Hoshi looks amazed, watching your legs shake because of him, his release soon after on your stomach. Your heart is beating fast, barely catching your breath as you collapse on the bed, eyes wide at the ceiling.
“You are sensational,” he whispers, leaving sweet kisses on your face. 
You can’t help but giggle, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling with him tightly. You had every intention of getting up to shower and clean up the mess you made from cooking, but instead, you fell into a deep sleep in his arms. You don’t feel him get up or hear him go into your bathroom, take his shower, and then clean you delicately. You are sound asleep as he cleans up your kitchen and makes sure your cats are fed. But you do feel him get back into the bed with you, and kiss you on your forehead.
“Hey,” you mumble. 
“I was just straightening up the mess we made. Go back to sleep, love.”
You did exactly that, falling into a deep sleep and waking up at sunrise, still in his arms. You ended up spending your three-day weekend with him, staying in and ordering take-out, watching movies, having meaningful talks about each other’s lives, and fucking each other whenever you wanted. You had each other wrapped in each other’s fingers, a twin flame you never thought you had in this world. You looked into his eyes and felt something, a hope of what your lives could be together if you let him in. 
“You aren’t going to ghost me, are you?” The weekend is over, and you are at the door, kissing Hoshi goodbye. “Not if you come over with snacks, Hoshi,” you joke, playfully pushing him out the door. “I think we are past nicknames now,” he leaves you with one last kiss. “Call me Soonyoung.”
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