⊹ ࣪ ˖ WHAT THEY’RE OBSESSED WITH ⊹ ࣪ ˖
a/n: ass, thigh or tits - what are the jjk men obsessed with? (ꈍᴗꈍ)
He worships them like they’re divine. Mouth slow and reverent, tongue tracing lazy circles before sucking hard enough to make you gasp. He cups them while fucking you from behind, groaning every time they bounce with his thrusts. “Perfect,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like they were made just for him to hold.
He’s shameless about it. Smacks, grabs, bites—he’s obsessed. Will absolutely rest his hand on your ass in public, pretend it’s casual. “How do you expect me to behave when this is right here?” he teases, grinding against you like he’s trying to make a point. Spoiler: he is.
He loves dragging his fingers up the inside of your thighs, slow and teasing, just to hear you beg. Will bury his face there like it’s the only place he wants to exist. “Such soft thighs… spread them for me again, sweetheart.” You’ll never win against that deep, coaxing voice and that wicked smirk.
This man is feral about them. He’ll bury his face between them, grip one in each hand like he’s claiming territory. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he grunts, tongue flicking over your nipple before biting down just enough to make you arch. Doesn’t care if you’re in bed or up against a wall—he’s getting his mouth on them.
He’s quiet about it, but the way his gaze lingers when you wear a short skirt says it all. Loves pulling you into his lap and running his hands along your thighs while pretending to still focus on the case files. “Don’t tempt me,” he warns—and then gives in anyway, lips pressing hot kisses all the way up.
He’s a menace. Will pretend he’s “helping you up” just to sneak a squeeze. Loves bending you over anything—desk, car hood, you name it—so he can watch your ass bounce with every thrust. “Look at that,” he groans, palm smacking down again. “You’re made for this.”
He’s absolutely obsessed. Doesn’t just grab—he owns. Forces you to ride him so he can grip your hips and watch your ass slap against his thighs. “That’s it, pet,” he growls. “Move like you’re mine.” And if you ever talk back? A sharp slap and a rougher thrust, until all you can do is cry his name.
