summary: you join your crush and your friends to go the club one night. you were unsure at first, but you deserve this night, since you've been studying so hard. the night goes better than expected.
pairing: f reader x jungkook
warnings: alcohol, finger!ng, some spanking, oral (f receiving), penetrat!on, cussing, mature language, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), overstimmulation, multiple orgasms, jungkook is allegedly a fuckboy, dancing in the club
word count: 3.5k
You threw your backpack onto the couch in your living room. As you're taking off your headphones and coat, you see your phone screen light up.
1 message from Kookie:
"hey you're up for tonight, right?"
Some of your friends had decided to go to the club tonight, and they insisted you come along with them. Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and of course... Jungkook was going to be there. You'd had a crush on Kookie for the longest time. But you'd never tell him that, though. He's known to be a charmer. He flirts with all the girls, and he's kind of a fuckboy, at least you've heard. But he's a good friend to have around? So you don't mind being with him, as friends, at least.
You take your phone into your hand and wonder if you should really go to the club tonight. With the guys too? Would it be alright? Jungkook's probably going to start chatting up other girls, and do you really want to witness that? Ugh, but you really could use the weekend to take a break from all the studying you'd been doing for your finals.
You reply to his text," Yeah, I'm coming." You weren't going just for Jungkook. This is also for yourself, of course. You needed that break, it was gonna be fine.
1 message from Kookie:
"k, i'll pick you up at 8."
What? Why would he come pick you up? You could just uber. You text him back, "It's all good, I'll uber."
1 message from Kookie:
"jimin's gonna come with me so, we'll pass by your place anyway, no need to waste your money babe"
You read his reply. Babe?. You cringed at the text message. It did unleash some of the butterflies in your stomach, though. Whatever You had to make lunch and you wanted to take a nap, honestly. You were exhausted from your morning classes. You send you a simple "Alright" to jungkook.
-
You woke up from your nap. Stretching and yawning you get our of bed. You look over to the alarm clock on your bedside. It was 7:01 pm. You had to get ready for tonight. You thought about what you wanted to wear for tonight. It was the club, anything would be fine really.
You hop into the shower and of course, you were gonna do your whole routine for tonight. You weren't trying to impress anyone, but what's wrong in feeling your baddest? You put on music on your speaker and start showering. You use your favourite scented body wash and you shave your arms and legs.
-
You get out of the shower and wrap yourself in a soft towel. You start drying your hair. You hear your apartment door being opened and shut. Who the hell just came into your apartment? You put down your hairbrush and tighten your towel. You slowly open the door and peak outside. You see black boots, black pants, and as you open the door further, you see jungkook sitting at your desk. He was in a black leather jacket. He looked so good, and so effortless.
Still slightly behind the bathroom door, you yell, "What the hell are you doing in my apartment, Jungkook!?" You ask shocked. A little startled by you yelling suddenly, he got up from your chair.
"Well you weren't replying or picking up my calls," he said holding up his phone, "and your front door was unlocked too. Are you ready yet?"
You saw on his phone that it was 7:56pm. "You're still 4 minutes early, so no, I'm not ready yet."
"You look pretty ready to me," he slyly said with a slight smile on his beautiful face. His bunny smile was so cute. You clutch your towel tighter. "Well, I'm gonna need you to leave my room, I have to get dressed!"
"What are you gonna wear?" He asked, curiously.
"What kind of question is that?"
"Is it this one?," He said as he picked up the black dress from your bed. It was a black satin dress with a pretty bare back except a few designs. It was a little short, too. He held up the dress in front of you.
"Yes...?" You said.
"Oooh, not gonna lie, it's pretty hot." He said chuckling. "Never imagined you'd be wearing something like this." Ugh, this idiot. You grab a pillow off your bed and chuck it at him.
"Leave my bedroom, you creep," you say as you threw the pillow at him. He drops the dress back on your bed and puts his hands up in surrender.
"Okay, okay! I'm going, gosh... so mean," he says as he walks out of your bedroom door. He leaves your bedroom and waits just by the front door. He uses his phone as he waits for you leaning on a table. You close your bedroom door and start getting dressed. You didn't exactly have a lot of time to do your hair now. You quickly do your makeup and decide to just leave your hair down. You apply your lipgloss and smack your lips together. You put on the satin fabric. It hugged your body and it honestly, accentuated your curves.
You put on your favourite perfume and grabbed your small purse. You inspected yourself in the full mirror in front of you. You looked good. Even you had to admit, this wasn't a dress you would normally wear. It stopped at your thighs and the neckline was a little bit low. But it looked stunning on you.
"Y/N, are you ready yet~!?" You hear Jungkook saying from outside your door.
"Yeah, just a sec!" You quickly reply, fixing your hair quickly in the mirror. You put your heels on and open your bedroom door. Jungkook is right in front of you. You almost bump into him as you go to walk out. You're looking straight at his chest in front of you.
"Aw, look at you," he says as his eyes examine you from top to bottom. "Jimin's waiting in the car, c'mon."
-
"What took you both so long, gosh!" Jimin says frustrated, putting his phone down onto his lap.
"It didn't even take that long," Jungkook says, opening the car door for you.
"Sorry Jimin, I was running a bit late," you tell Jimin as you get into the car. Jimin looks at you, jaw dropping on the floor.
"You're excused, Y/N, you look so good," he says as Jungkook get's into the drivers seat. "Awe thanks," You say to Jimin. You buckle your seatbelt up, blushing a little bit. Jungkook clears his throat, more like scoffing, cocking up an eyebrow. You look to Jungkook, and the both of you lock eyes, and he gives you a slight smirk. You quickly look away. Jungkook starts the car and begins to drive.
Jimin starts playing music from his phone. 'Lost in the fire' starts playing in the car. Jimin starts singing to the lyrics of the song. You join in. Both of you are vibing to the catchy music.
-
You join Jungkook and the rest of the guys at bar counter. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Yoongi all greet you, telling you how great you look. Jungkook leans back and sips on his drink. Jimin comes over with two cups in his hand, he hands you a glass. You thank him for the drink and start sipping on it.
You were all a couple drinks in at this point. You felt a little bit hot and buzzed. You were still with Jungkook and Jimin and the others were on the dance floor.
"This is my favourite song, c'mon dance with me Y/N," Jimin says. You put down your drink, and look over at him, a little bit surprised. You weren't much of a dancer. You hesitate. "Uhh, I don't think I can-," you say to Jimin. You look over at Jungkook, and he tilts his head, almost giving you permission to dance with Jimin. "Yeah, you should go dance Y/N," he says, backing up Jimin's plead. You're still a little bit reluctant but you finally decide to go. You were here to have fun.
"Alright then," you let Jimin hold your hand and guide you to the dance floor. 'Filter' is playing throughout the club. The neon lights pour over throughout the club. The both of you find an open spot on the spot. Jimin holds onto your waist with your back facing his. You were still a little bit tense.
"It's alright, don't be shy. Just let loose, Y/N," he says, gliding one of his hands to your hand and your fingers entangling together. He begins moving his hips and soon you're also moving to his beat. You sing along to the music, and turn around to Jimin. The both of you dancing close, and singing along. His hands guiding your hips. Your hands are in the air, vibing to the music, and letting loose.
But your hands are brought down. Someone's hands entangling yours. They bring your hands to your side. You feel someone else's hips behind you, also moving with the same rhythm as yours. You glance at Jimin, and Jimin looks behind you, smirking to whoever's behind you.
"Hey Y/N," you knew this voice all too well. It was Jungkook. He was the last person you expected. You thought he'd be in the bathroom somewhere with some girl. His hands still holding yours and his lips meeting your ear. He lightly bites your ear and trails his tongue and lips down the side of your neck. His hands let go of your hand and they rest on your thighs, playing with the hem of your already short dress. He caresses your thighs.
Jungkook's hips grind against your ass. At this point, another girl comes to take Jimin away. "Have fun Y/N," he says smirking and leaving you with Jungkook. You watch Jimin disappear into the crowd with this random girl.
"Shit, why are you so tense, baby?" Jungkook whispers. Him talking so close to your neck sends shivers down your spine. He had never been so bold before. He'd already had many drinks. But you kind of loved this new side of him.
"I'm not! What are you talking about, hmph," you say back, trying to not seem phased by his frisky actions. You didn't want him to think he was getting to you. Confidently, dancing on him, even pushing yourself more onto him. You face him, putting an arm around his neck. His grip on your waist tightens and he brings you closer.
You feel a hard bulge near your stomach. Oh my god. It was his bulge. You almost fell over. He was hard. One of his hands snakes its way to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Fuck. You look up at the man in front of you. "Fuck, it's not my fault that you look so good," Jungkook says looking down at your lips.
"Please, you probably say that to all the girls who are willing to listen to your words," you say to him, chuckling, trying to not seem flustered.
"Huhh~ No I don't!" He scoffs. His words are elongated and dragged out. He leans closer to your neck. He plants kisses and sucks on the same spot of your neck, making sure to leave a mark for the next morning. "You know, I've liked you for so long," he says still buried in your neck. "But you're so busy all the time with your classes, I don't even think you have time for me," he says chuckling against your skin.
The bites on your neck make you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Ah-," a small moan escapes your mouth. The sound only turning Jungkook on more. Your voice was so sweet to him. He breaks away from your neck and he looks into your eyes. Your face is so red. "Wait, I didn't-," before you could finish your sentene, his lips crash onto yours. His hands gripping onto your face.
You could taste the tequila from his lips. The kiss was intoxicating. You didn't realize how much you were craving his lips on yours. Soft moans escape both of your lips into the kiss. The feeling of euphoria taking over the both of you. You glide your hand down his chest and onto the waist of his black jeans, toying with the belt. You let your hand explore further, you could feel his cock through his jeans. You rub his length through the hard denim. Deep groans escape his lips. His hand lifts up your dress up slightly to feel your plump skin. He lightly slaps your ass.
"I wish you weren't wearing any panties right now, damn. I'd fuck you right here, on the dance floor if I could," Jungkook breathes out. "Let me fuck you Y/N, I need to have you," he says, almost begging you. His hand find its way to your clothed entrance. You were so wet. He rubs you through your panties and it makes you feel all sorts of feelings. You wanted him more than ever right now.
"I want you so bad right now," you finally say. His lips crashing back onto yours, and his hands grip your ass tightly.
"I've never seen you like this, Y/N, I love it," Jungkook says as he holds your hand and guides you to the bathroom. As soon as you both enter the bathroom, Jungkook has you pinned against the counter. His lips attack your neck. You tilt your neck to give him more access. His hands work to lift up your dress. As far as you knew, you two were the only ones in the bathroom, but you didn't really care at this point. Jungkook's touch was so potent. It was addictive. The way his hands and his cold rings caressed your skin made you obsessed.
His long, slender fingers move to the hem of your panties. He pulls the thin, lace fabric to the side. His rings send shivers down your back. His lips graze yours, and his eyes lock with yours, as if asking you permission to go further.
"Touch me already Kookie~," you finally say. You needed to feel him, right now. You didn't want him to stop at all. The feeling of ecstasy beginning to wash over you. His thumb presses onto your clit and he begins to rub you. The sensitive spot causing you let our soft moans.
"You're so wet baby, ah," his fingers encircling your clit. He's making you feel so good. The sensation makes it difficult to catch your breath as his fingers continue to work your pussy. You can't stand it, you're already so wet. You want him so bad.
"Fuck me already, please Jungkook," you say between your soft moans.
"Don't worry, I will. I wanna take my time with you Y/N," Jungkook says. His fingers play with your wet slits, and soon he inserts his finger into your wet cunt. Soon, he inserts another digit. He begins moving his thin fingers in and out. He pumps his fingers faster, and the rings make you feel even better. The curves of the metal against your walls. Your arousal coating his fingers. The sight of his finger tattoos even wet with arousal turns you on so much. He fastens his pace. The sensations cause you to moan in pleasure. You're arching your back from the feeling. He's going so fast.
"F-Fuck Jungkook! I'm gonna cum," you whine as your as hands grip his back. Your arms make their way around his neck, so you don't end up falling over. Your long nails digging into his still clothed back.
"Then cum for me, Y/N," he says looking at your desperate face. The strands of his hair are stuck to his forehead from the sweat. Your walls tightening around him. His fingers getting coated in wetness. You reach your orgasm and your eyes roll back in bliss. Your mouth lets out a string of curses. He kisses your shoulders and you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. You press your lips together from all the stimulation.
Kook brings his fingers to his lips. Licking your juices off them.
"You taste so fucking good, I wanna eat you out, fuck," he says as he picks you up from your waist and sets you down on the counter. His hands quickly move your legs apart and he starts kissing your dripping cunt. You run your fingers through his beautiful hair, pulling, you want more of him. His tongue flicking over your clit. You had just cum once, this was going to send you over the edge. You could here the perverted sounds echo in the bathroom, even over the loud music outside. The wet noises that came from him slurping up your arousal and fucking you with his tongue. His hands gripping onto your thighs for dear life. Your grinded on his face. The sinful sounds start escaping your soul. You moaned his name over and over again as he ate your desperate pussy, like he'd been starving for days.
"You're a very dirty girl, you know Y/N?," he rhetorically asks before burying his face back into your heat.
"Look who's talking~," you snarkily say back at him. He wasn't one to talk since he was the one who was hard in the first place, hmph. As he continued, you felt another knot in your stomach. You rode out your second orgasm, on Jungkook's handsome face.
He comes up, kissing your lips. "Taste yourself, aren't you delicious," he says before he kisses you. You could taste yourself on his lips. The salty wetness was smothered over his pink lips. Jungkook began undoing his belt. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips. He flips you around and you're leaning against the sink. You could see yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, your hair moved to the side, and the sleeves of your dress hanging onto your arms.
Jungkook rubs your ass and begins to stroke his already hard dick. He teases your sensitive entrance with his cock. His cock was wet, and throbbing. He wanted you so bad. He grinded against your wet folds, but not giving you the satisfaction of feeling him inside you.
You were getting frustrated. Your bucked your hips back, and met his eyes in the mirror. "Come on Kookie~," you teased him while moving your ass back at him.
"So eager?"
"Of course," you reply slyly.
You finally feel his cock slam into your opening. The sudden movement causing you to jerk forward. His huge cock filled you up so well. He begins fucking you, bottoming into you everytime. "Oh my god! Fuck, you're so big-," you exclaim. The sound of skin slapping together echoed along with Jungkook's moans. His deep moans turned you on so much. Jungkook pulls you back towards him. Your back facing him, and you could look at your reflection in the mirror.
You looked like a total slut right now. Jungkook thrusting hard into you from behind, and his hand curled around your neck. He whispered all sorts of obscenities into your ear. His dick is slamming into your cunt, sending you over the edge.
"You feel so good-," you manage to say between your moans and groans. You couldn't think of anything right now, except Jungkook's cock deep in you. That was the only thing on your mind. You could barely string your words together. Your ass and his hips coming together rhythmically. You could feel that you were close again. The wet sounds filled the air.
"Fuck. I'm gonna cum, babe," Jungkook said between his thrusts. "Beg for it, sweeheart" he ordered you.
"Cum. In. Me. Jungkook. Please-," you begged between his slow but deep thrusts. He groaned louder, his thrusts began getting messier. He was reaching his climax. He pressed himself deeper into you. His hands held your waist so tight, as if he was afraid you'd disappear from his sights.
"I love you so much Y/N," he says as he reaches his orgasm. The thick, hot liquid poured into your insides, and your gripped onto the edge of the sink counter.
"I love you too Kookie," you reciprocate back.
He let his head fall into your shoulder and he breaths heavily. He plants kisses on your shoulders. He lets out a long sigh, and hugs you from the back. His hands wrap around you and he kisses your cheek. He made you feel pure bliss. His hands reach for your hand, and you feel your hand being intertwined with his.
"Stay with me tonight, Kookie," you say sweetly to him. And he seems to share the same feelings that you feel.
"Anything for you, sweetheart," he says, giving you a peck on your lips.
~
this took me so long to write, but i love how it turned out. jk is so cute in this <33 i really hope ya'll enjoyed this. requests are open ^^
summary: desperate to see if a man devoted to god will unravel, you test his faith with your sweet, deceptive innocence—seducing fr. jeon until his devotion no longer belongs to god…but to you.
warnings: priest jungkook x sinful reader, explicit sexual content, forbidden relationship, candle wax play, rosary choking, edging, clit rubbing, filthy sexual desires, spitting, degradation, mock sympathy, pussy eating, condescending dirty talk, blow job, cum eating, usage of whore & slut, praising, cum eating, m. masturbation, manipulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
Temptation, they said, was the devil's favorite weapon…subtle, patient, and often disguised as something beautiful.
Your beauty was the kind that invited sin. Like a priceless painting in a museum, admired by many but forbidden to touch, existing only to test the restraint of those who stood before it.
Yet despite the effect you seemed to have on everyone else, Fr. Jeon remained frustratingly untouched by it all. Men had always looked twice, their attention lingering long enough to make their interest known. But his eyes never lingered on you. They would meet yours for a fleeting moment before moving on, calm and unwavering, carrying the same gentle warmth they offered every soul that walked through the church doors.
Pathetic.
Wearing a long white virginal skirt, a matching conservative blouse, and your hair falling neatly down your waist, you grabbed your purse before heading downstairs to meet Sana.
“Glad you finally wore something decent,” Sana commented with a sheepish smile when she saw you stepping out of your house.
You pouted, looking down at the modest skirt fluttering around your ankles. “My cute dresses are decent too, you know.”
You weren’t a very religious person, but when your friend Sana told you she wanted to join the church choir, you were more than happy to come with her.
Between the two of you, she was the religious one—always carrying a small pocket bible in her purse, always reminding you to watch your words and actions because God was watching.
A lot of your friends were confused about how the two of you became so close. You were playful, rebellious, and bratty—more of a bad influence beside someone so polite and devout. But despite your mischievous nature, you were very sweet, friendly and charming. At university, you were one of the popular students, with plenty of friends and a reputation as a social butterfly.
When you first met Sana, you hadn’t expected the two of you to get along. She was a new student, still adjusting to the unfamiliar environment and trying to find her place among the other students. Being the friendly social butterfly that you were, you became the first person to approach her.
Your personalities couldn’t have been more different. Sana was calm, reserved, and quiet, while you were bold, bright, and loud.
Despite being complete opposites, the two of you grew unexpectedly close. You liked Sana because she was a breath of fresh air. Her calmness grounded the chaos within you, while your playfulness brought balance and excitement to her peaceful life.
Ever since you became best friends, you often accompanied her to church. Although you looked somewhat out of place trailing behind her while she helped with various church duties, volunteer work, and parish activities...you still enjoyed spending time with her.
You liked how she always listened to your rants and endless rambles. Following her around while she busied herself carrying boxes and helping wherever she could, your kitten heels clicked softly against the church’s marbled floors, and the longest dress you could find in your closet swayed gently with every step. As unusual as it felt to be dressed so modestly, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed these moments with Sana.
Your usual style of dressing didn’t exactly align with the church’s dress code… you had to trade your short skirts, midriff-baring tops, tight dresses, and cute spaghetti-strap tops for something more... demure.
At first, you tried to argue against it, but Sana quickly reminded you that those clothes weren’t appropriate for church. And of course, you had no choice but to listen unless you wanted another lecture about being a poor instrument of the Lord.
“Since when did you become a singer?” you teased as the two of you entered the church alongside a few parishioners and choir members.
Sana was dressed similarly to you, wearing a long skirt paired with a flowy long-sleeved blouse. In her right hand, she carried a small booklet filled with choir songs.
She pouted. “I can sing a bit, you know.” she opened the booklet and flipped through its pages. “As long as I’m serving the Lord, then no voice shall sound bad.”
You chuckled, already accustomed to her holy little remarks.
“If you say so,” you sang back playfully, following her up to the choir loft. You offered a polite smile to the other choir members, who were already busy practicing.
Since you weren’t actually there to join the choir, you let Sana focus on rehearsal while you wandered around the church on your own. Normally, you would have spent the entire time chatting her ear off, rambling about anything and everything, but today you let her concentrate.
A few parishioners were arranging fresh flowers around the framed images of saints, while others carefully dusted and polished the statues lining the church walls. The distant voices of the choir drifted through the air, blending with the soft murmur of prayers and quiet conversations, creating a peaceful atmosphere that settled gently around you.
When Sana first invited you to come with her to church, you had agreed out of nothing more than curiosity. You traded your usual weekend night outs for sunday mass, wanting to see the world through her eyes and understand why this place, with its quiet prayers and solemn rituals, meant so much to her.
The church offered a kind of quiet that rarely existed in your everyday life. Away from crowded parties, endless conversations, and the glittering chaos of your social circle, there was something unexpectedly comforting about this place. It gave you a chance to slow down, to breathe, and to simply exist without needing to be the loudest person in the room.
“Good morning, Fr. Jeon.” a few choir members and parishioners greeted.
You turned around absentmindedly, your head tilting curiously when you saw a priest entering through one of the church's side doors. Dressed in a long black cassock, he offered everyone a warm smile and a slight bow as he stepped inside.
A new priest?
“Are you here for the charity blessing, Fr. Jeon?” someone asked.
The woman approached him and received a gentle pat on the head in return.
He smiled. “Yes, I stopped by to gather a few materials for the blessing.”
Your head tilted slightly as you watched him, finding yourself taking an unconscious step forward.
A handsome fucking priest.
For the past few months that you'd been spending time at the church with Sana, this was the first time you'd seen him, and unfortunately for your soul, he was ridiculously attractive.
You found yourself shamelessly staring, almost in awe as he greeted everyone with effortless kindness.
He bowed politely, acknowledged each person with a warm smile, and listened attentively whenever someone spoke to him. It should've been a crime for a priest to be that good-looking.
Sinful.
The long black cassock he wore looked attractively sinful wrapped around someone so impossibly holy, the stark contrast only making him harder to ignore. His sharp jawline became more pronounced whenever he turned to greet someone with a kind smile, and a pair of thin-framed glasses rested neatly on his nose, lending him an air of quiet intelligence that did absolutely nothing to help your situation. His eyes were dark and warm behind the lenses, attentive whenever he listened to someone speak, and his jet-black hair was styled neatly, though a few stubborn strands had fallen across his forehead.
Everything about him looked composed, dignified, and entirely inappropriate for the thoughts currently running through your head.
You almost let out a dramatic gasp when Fr. Jeon finally waved his goodbye and turned to leave. A curse nearly slipped from your lips as you watched him make his way toward the church doors.
Everyone else had managed to greet him and earn one of his warm smiles, some even receiving a fond pat on the head. Meanwhile, you had spent the entire time standing near the altar, staring at him like an absolute creep, too mesmerized by his existence.
Internally rolling your eyes at yourself and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, you watched him disappear through the church doors. And then, because apparently your dignity had already left the building before he did, you immediately made your way back to Sana, who was still busy practicing her choir lines.
“So...” you began, trailing behind Sana as she walked around with her booklet, quietly memorizing her choir pieces.
“Is Fr. Jeon a real priest?”
Sana lowered the booklet and stared at you, her brows knitting together as she caught the suspicious wiggle of your eyebrows.
“Huh?”
“I mean...” you hesitated. “Is he a real priest or, like… an intern priest?”
The moment the words left your mouth, you realized how stupid they sounded.
Was there even such a thing as a priest internship?
Sana blinked. Then she burst out laughing. “He's a real priest, Y/N. What do you mean, intern priest?”
Your cheeks immediately warmed. You looked away while she continued laughing, lifting the booklet back up as you followed after her.
You pouted. “Well... he looks young.” And hot. “And I've never seen him before. Every time I've attended mass with you, he wasn't the presider.”
You tried to think back to the past few months but came up empty. No handsome priests. Because if there had been one, you definitely would've remembered.
In fact, you were pretty sure you would've started sitting in the front row.
“Yeah, because he only got appointed recently,” Sana answered, her attention back on the booklet. “A few months ago, I think.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, almost groaning when you haven’t met him before he got appointed.
What the fuck, Y/N. Are you seriously eyeing a priest?
Absolutely not. That was...unholy!
For the following weeks, you found yourself clinging to Sana more than usual.
At first, you convinced yourself it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Going to church with her wasn't exactly new.
You just weren't nearly as consistent as she was.
There were plenty of sundays you skipped altogether, choosing late nights with your friends over early mornings in church. Besides, you figured there would always be another mass to attend, while convincing Sana to show up at one of your parties was practically impossible.
That was why you never attended as regularly as she did.
Lately, however, the situation seemed to have reversed. Now, you were the one volunteering to come.
Party invitations sat unanswered in your messages. Night outs were declined without hesitation. Instead, you found yourself asking Sana about choir practice, church activities, and whether she planned on volunteering for any upcoming events.
It was becoming a little concerning.
Wearing one of your now-usual long skirts and a modest blouse approved by church standards, you applied an extra layer of lip gloss in front of your mirror. Excitement bubbled inside you as you remembered what Sana had told you earlier that week—a charity event was coming up, and the church needed volunteers to help organize donations.
There had been plenty of charity events before, many of which you had skipped. Sana would usually spend the entire day helping sort donations and assisting the parishioners, leaving little time for the two of you to actually spend together. As much as you enjoyed tagging along with her, wandering around the church by yourself for hours wasn't exactly appealing.
This time, however, you were genuinely excited to come.
It wasn't as though you couldn't visit the church on your own. Nobody would stop you if you decided to drop by one afternoon.
The problem was that it would be… strange.
Ever since you started coming to church, it had always been because of Sana. Everyone knew you as her friend, not as someone particularly devoted to the church.
If you suddenly started showing up by yourself every weekend, people would notice. You weren't exactly known for your devotion.
Especially when the answer involved a certain priest.
It was already strange enough that you were beginning to resemble a devoted Christian.
False piety.
When you arrived at the church, your heartbeat picked up immediately. Volunteers moved in and out of the building carrying boxes and supplies, conversations blending into a lively hum that filled the grounds.
“You can help with the boxes, Y/N. I'll just talk to the choir members,” Sana said with a smile.
You nodded a little too eagerly, grateful she didn’t question your sudden burst of interest in coming with her to church. It helped that you had accompanied her before—enough for it to not feel completely out of the blue.
“Okay! I'll help with the boxes!” you smiled brightly.
The moment Sana wandered off to join the other choir members, you immediately began looking around for ways to help.
“Let me carry those,” you offered with a bright smile, reaching for a volunteer struggling with a stack of old toy boxes meant for donation.
The woman thanked you and asked if you could bring them outside, where a small truck was parked to collect everything.
You happily agreed.
“I hope he comes today,” you muttered under your breath as you carried the boxes toward the truck, your eyes drifting toward the church entrance every few seconds.
According to Sana, Fr. Jeon frequently stopped by to check on donation drives, visit the parish office, or help coordinate volunteer work.
You had already carried nine boxes, then… ten. With every trip back and forth, you found yourself slowly losing hope that Fr. Jeon would show up at all. You were starting to regret wearing your cutest pink skirt today, and the growing disappointment was beginning to settle in alongside your irritation.
Just as you were about to accept that all your effort had been wasted, Fr. Jeon finally appeared, walking into the church hall.
Your eyes widened.
“Fuck—” you immediately winced, biting your lip the moment the word escaped. Mentally apologizing for cursing inside the church.
With a fresh box of donations balanced in your arms, you hurried toward the entrance, trying your best to look useful, helpful and responsible. Like the kind of person who volunteered here regularly and wasn't secretly waiting for your handsome priest to show up.
Your heart hammered against your ribs when he finally glanced in your direction.
“Good day,” he greeted with a smile and a polite nod, raising his right hand to gently pat your head.
Your cheeks immediately flushed, almost dropping the boxes when he touched you.
He patted my head!
Today, he was dressed in a fitted black long-sleeved shirt tucked neatly into black slacks, a simple brown cross necklace resting against his chest. His jet-black hair was styled neatly away from his face, exposing a heart-shaped forehead that made him look unfairly handsome. He wore his usual pair of glasses, the thin frames resting on the bridge of his nose and softening the sharpness of his features. Behind the lenses, his round eyes looked steady and attentive, always observant, as if he noticed everything without ever needing to say so.
Goodness gracious.
Your gaze drifted lower, almost shamelessly staring…only to pause on his right hand.
You frowned slightly, you wanted to take a longer look, but his sleeves hid the rest of his arms from view, making it impossible to tell how far they extended.
Was that a tattoo?
For some reason, that discovery stunned you more than it should have. Priests and tattoos weren't exactly a combination you'd ever imagined together.
You were so distracted staring at his hand that you didn't realize he had already walked past you and moved on to greet the other volunteers.
You didn't even greet him back! Oh God.
Panic immediately settled in your chest. Adjusting your grip on the donation box, you hurried after him, determined to salvage the interaction somehow. You just needed a reason to talk to him.
A simple religious question, maybe?
Unfortunately, your brain had chosen this exact moment to stop working.
You couldn't exactly walk up to him and ask if priests were allowed to have tattoos. Nor could you suddenly start quoting bible verses when the majority of your religious knowledge came from Sana lecturing you every other week.
You wanted to sound natural and virginal.
The problem was that you had absolutely no idea how to start a holy conversation without sounding fake about it, like you were trying too hard to be someone you weren’t.
When you saw him entering the church office, you frowned and stomped your foot against the floor in irritation.
Pity.
You were a bit disappointed when his gaze didn’t even linger on you. You were used to boys in college always noticing you…showing their interest, getting swayed by your pretty face and charming personality. But here, inside the church, you were nothing more than another kind volunteer in his eyes—someone he greeted with the same calm respect he gave everyone else.
Importunate.
At this point, it had become a routine. You would come to church with Sana after school, grateful she had joined the choir because it gave you an excuse to be there almost every day instead of only on weekends.
While she attended rehearsals, you spent your afternoons helping with volunteer work and assisting the parishioners...all while discreetly searching the church grounds for your future boyfriend.
You even started dressing for it—slipping into the most “virginal” outfits your closet could offer in hopes of blending in. Long skirts, conservative blouses, dresses that covered everything they possibly could. It was almost laughable how much effort you put into looking like the perfect church girl, when a few months ago you would’ve rather died than be seen in half of these outfits.
The worst part was that it wasn't even guaranteed to work.
There were days when your timing simply didn't align. You would arrive at the church only to hear that Fr. Jeon had already stopped by earlier, or spend the afternoon helping around the parish before finding out he had come and gone while you were busy elsewhere. Sometimes you would leave just before he arrived, missing him by mere minutes.
You would come home without seeing even a glimpse of him, staring at your ceiling later that night and wondering why you felt so deflated over someone you barely knew.
Then there were the good days—when your schedules happened to align and you finally saw him. Your eyes would immediately light up the moment you spotted him across the church grounds, your smile growing brighter despite your attempts to act normal, your cheeks burning whenever he greeted you with that gentle smile and absentminded pat on the head.
Transgression.
At first, seeing him had been enough. Now, however, you found yourself expecting more. Not much...just a conversation that lasted longer than a few seconds. Something beyond charity drives, donation boxes, retreats, and volunteer work.
But Fr. Jeon was frustratingly...polite.
He greeted everyone with the same kindness, smiled at everyone with the same warmth, and spoke to everyone with the same respectful attentiveness. Whenever you managed to stand near him long enough for a conversation, he would ask about the charity, the donations, the volunteers, or whatever church event happened to be coming up next.
The discussion always remained firmly within the boundaries of church matters, and before you knew it, he would excuse himself to continue helping elsewhere.
You couldn't even ask him anything personal. Every question that came to mind sounded ridiculous the moment you imagined saying it out loud. Are those tattoos real? How old are you? Why are you so handsome for a priest?
None of them exactly sounded appropriate for church conversation.
So you remained stuck in this strange little cycle of yours, coming to church almost everyday with hopes far bigger than the interactions you actually received. And despite how ridiculous it felt, despite how much you scolded yourself for it, the highlight of your day was still that brief smile and the weight of his hand resting atop your head for a few seconds.
Shameful.
A shame that you had never actually talked to him.
Not beyond a few good afternoons exchanged in passing and the occasional greeting whenever your paths crossed around the church.
You didn't want to be too bold, afraid that he would notice your embarrassingly obvious attempts to get his attention. As someone who wasn't particularly religious, you found yourself in an absurd predicament.
Should you start reading the bible? Memorize a few scriptures? Learn enough about church teachings to hold an intelligent conversation with him?
The fact that you were even considering studying scripture just to impress a priest made you question every life decision that had led you to this point.
You wanted his eyes to linger on you. Wanted him to look at you a little longer than everyone else. Wanted to feel special in some way. But every time your gaze met his, he would simply smile and move on, his attention never staying in one place for too long.
Sometimes you wondered if the only thing capable of holding his complete devotion was God himself.
Which was unfortunate for you. Because you were used to being noticed.
You were pretty, and you knew it. Attention had always come easily to you, yet the one man whose attention you wanted most remained completely out of reach.
A man who was distant, unattainable, and forbidden in every possible sense of the word.
Standing in front of your mirror that afternoon, you smoothed down your floral dress and examined your reflection one last time. The modest dress fell neatly against your figure, paired with white kitten heels that made you look far more innocent than you actually were. You dabbed a little extra blush onto your cheeks before adding a touch more glitter to your eyelids, your excitement growing as you remembered what Sana had told you earlier that week.
Fr. Jeon would be presiding over today's mass.
It would be the first mass of his that you would be attending, and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, unable to stop smiling, you realized your excitement felt dangerously close to the kind of anticipation one would have before a date.
Sana had noticed that you were coming with her far more often nowadays, but being as naive and obedient as she was, she only took it as a good sign. In her eyes, your heart was simply getting closer to God, closer to faith, closer to something pure and meaningful.
Closer to Fr. Jeon, rather.
“You look excited,” she said with a soft smile, her eyes twinkling when you mentioned wanting to sit in the front row. The thought only made her happier, convinced that your devotion was finally deepening in the way she had always hoped for you.
Oh, you were devoted.
“Excited for the Mass, you know,” you replied with a small giggle, clasping your hands together as if to sell the image. “Wonder what bible chapter will be discussed today.”
Of course you were gonna listen, be a good little church girl and have your eyes and attention to him.
Your eyes were practically shining when you stepped into the church, making a beeline for the front row without hesitation. You sat down shamelessly, smoothing your skirt as if you had done this every sunday of your life.
Sana only smiled at your eagerness, completely oblivious to the fact that your decision had nothing to do with spiritual focus and everything to do with proximity. Sitting at the front felt less like devotion and more like VIP seating for the sole purpose of seeing Fr. Jeon up close.
When the bell finally rang, the entire church rose to its feet. Your heart kicked up immediately as the sacristans entered in procession, one of them carrying a smoking thurible that swung gently with each step. And right at the center of it all was him.
Your future boyfriend.
Your lips parted slightly, eyes widening as Fr. Jeon walked slowly down the nave with calm, deliberate steps. His hands were clasped together in front of him in prayer, and he wore the full liturgical vestments—a long white linen robe beneath a green chasuble, a thin stole draped over his shoulders, and a cincture tied neatly at his waist. The fabric moved softly as he walked, making him look almost unreal under the church lights, like something out of a painting you weren’t supposed to stare at for too long.
He greeted people with gentle smiles along the way, bowing his head politely, even pausing to pat a few children on the head as he passed the pews.
By the time he reached the altar, your attention was fully locked in.
Disingenuous.
You nodded a little too eagerly when responses were required, your voice coming out brighter than necessary during the choir parts, as if enthusiasm alone could prove your devotion. Every time he spoke, your focus sharpened, hanging onto his words a little too intently, even when you were supposed to be blending in with the rest of the congregation.
He was wearing his usual pair of glasses, slowly turning the pages of the bible with precise, practiced movements. His voice was steady and clear as he read, each word delivered with a calm authority that made it clear this role suited him completely. There was nothing rushed about him, nothing uncertain.. only a quiet certainty in the way he stood at the altar, as if it had always belonged to him.
By now, you had started mirroring him without even realizing it. Whenever he closed his eyes to say the prayers, you would close yours too, hands folded a little tighter than necessary, breathing in sync with the rhythm of the mass.
You were fucking crazy.
When it was time for the holy communion, you stood up almost too quickly, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as you joined the line forming in the aisle. Each step forward felt heavier than it should have, not because of the sacrament itself, but because of who was waiting near the altar.
“Are you alright?” Sana commented quietly when she noticed your flushed expression after the bell rang.
You let out a small, awkward laugh and instinctively smoothed down your long hair, trying to compose yourself. “Just thinking about my prayers,” you said lightly, as if that explanation made any sense at all.
She gasped, like you were really serious about your prayers, when all you could think about was—
He’s gonna feed me the host!
You were almost sweating as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the moment inch closer with every step in the line. Sana’s voice was still beside you, something about God always listening and having faith in his timing, but her words barely registered anymore. Your mind was elsewhere entirely, stuck on the growing realization that you were seconds away from facing him directly.
Preparing your hands in a prayer position, your brain almost short-circuited when you finally faced him, his right tatted hand holding the host up for you.
“The Body of Christ,” he said in a soft tone, almost detached in its reverence.
You wanted him to recognize you—the obedient good girl who always volunteered at the church. But fuck, he was too absorbed in God and the communion.
Your lips parted. “Amen…”
When he finally fed you the host, you almost choked when you felt the slight, accidental brush of his index finger against your lips as he withdrew his hand. You were left completely flustered, while he remained composed and focused on the ritual, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you.
To you, it felt intimate.
To him, it was simply the Eucharist…a sacred duty, a practiced motion repeated countless times.
When you returned to your seat and lowered yourself to kneel again, you pressed your hands together a little too tightly. In your head, you immediately apologized to God for every impure thought, questionable intention, and shameless moment you had done.
Then, without even a full second of self-reflection, you proceeded to ask if he could somehow let you be a little closer to Fr. Jeon.
Your priorities were clearly a work in progress.
“Sana, are you gonna visit the church this week?” you asked with a small smile, falling into your usual habit of checking with her.
For the past few weeks, your afternoons and weekends had quietly reshaped themselves around her schedule.
It had become something strangely comforting… helping wherever you could, spending hours in a place that once felt unfamiliar but was now slowly turning into routine.
But of course, you couldn’t deny that recently, there was another reason woven into it too.
“Nope,” Sana replied as she hugged her books closer to her chest. “I have to study this week. Finals are coming up, and I still have a chemistry exam to review for before vacation starts.”
You groaned softly and walked beside her as the two of you left the campus. “Then why don’t we just stop by for a bit? To pray for good grades?” you suggested, lifting a brow as if it was the most logical solution in the world.
Please. Please. Please agree with me.
Sana pouted, clearly considering it for a moment, and your heart almost stopped in anticipation. Then she shook her head slowly, and your excitement deflated instantly.
“You’re right,” she said gently, “but it’s a long test, Y/N. I need to review all week. God would understand.”
She smiled softly and slipped her arm through yours. “Let’s just pray at home and do the rosary before reviewing.”
You forced a small smile, though your shoulders sagged slightly at the realization. It wasn’t just a missed church visit—it was a missed chance, even if you kept telling yourself it wasn’t supposed to be about that.
Sure, you would probably still see Fr. Jeon at sunday mass. He was the new presider in the city now, after all.
But it still wasn’t the same.
You almost groaned when you found yourself at the church that saturday morning. You were wearing a cream-colored dress, kitten heels, and a rosary necklace you had recently bought for the sole purpose of impressing Fr. Jeon. You had no idea whether he would even notice it, but in your mind, it felt like the kind of thing a good church girl would wear.
Preposterous.
Sashaying your way inside, you took in the usual parishioners and volunteers already busy arranging boxes for the charity drive.
You bit your lip. This was your first time visiting the church without Sana. Still, as you walked in, you were relieved when a few volunteers recognized you.
Thank God and all the saints.
You smiled and bent down to help with the boxes, already familiar with the routine—carrying them to the truck, sorting old clothes and toys, or helping with the lists.
If any of your uni friends saw you here alone, they would be completely confused. Without Sana, your sudden appearance at church would make absolutely no sense.
“Good day, Fr. Jeon.” someone greeted, and your ears immediately perked up. You turned just in time to see him entering the church halls in his usual black long sleeves and slacks.
You were only on your third box today! He was early!
Your lips curled into a small, excited smile as you instinctively stepped closer, box still in hand, already anticipating the familiar greeting and gentle pat on the head.
“Good day,” he said as expected, offering a polite nod before his hand lifted to pat your head.
Your eyelashes fluttered.
But instead of letting him move on to greet the others…for the first time in the past few weeks, you actually gathered the courage to stop him.
“Uh, Fr. Jeon?” you called softly just as he was about to turn away.
He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Yes, sweetheart?”
Jesus– God in heaven.
Your cheeks instantly reddened at the nickname, fingers tightening around the box. Still, you forced yourself to breathe, and finally blurted out the question you had been rehearsing all night.
“Just wondering if you have any c-chapter recommendations? I’m currently reading the bible and I don’t know where to start,” you said shyly.
There was a brief flicker of pleasant surprise on his face, quietly impressed that you were asking about the bible in the first place. It wasn't often that someone approached him with genuine curiosity about scripture.
He was about to answer when, suddenly…his attention shifted.
His gaze drifted downward, landing on the rosary hanging around your neck—the small cross resting between your breasts.
His lips pursed. “Sweetheart…rosaries are not meant to be worn as necklaces,” he chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on the rosary before looking back at you.
Your eyes widened. “I-It’s not…?” you asked, your ears and neck already heating in embarrassment.
Fuck. You didn’t know that!
Fr. Jeon exhaled gently. “It’s a prayer tool,” he explained, his tone patient and calm. “Meant to be held in the hands… used in prayer, not displayed like jewelry.”
You blinked. “I-I didn’t know,” you admitted quickly, almost defensively. “I just really… like rosaries.”
Deception.
Fr. Jeon sighed softly, then lifted a hand to gently pat your head. “It’s okay…if you want, you can still wear rosary bracelets.” he offered you a small, reassuring smile.
You almost melted at his kindness. “R-Right, that would be better,” you said shyly, barely keeping yourself together.
He chuckled softly at your reaction, adjusting his glasses before finally returning to your original question. “If you’re reading the bible,” he added at last, “start with the gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.”
You nodded quickly, smiling up at him as he returned a warm, genuine smile of his own.
“Noted, Fr. Jeon.” you smiled, unconsciously stepping a little closer. “...Uhm, d-do you have a bible in your office, Father?” you asked shyly, doing your best to sound innocent and academically curious.
The moment the question left your mouth, you almost mentally slapped yourself.
Of course he has a bible in his office!
You opened your mouth, ready to rephrase the question, to save yourself from the embarrassment of sounding so foolish—but Fr. Jeon answered before you could.
“I do have a few bible collections in my office…would you like to see them?” Fr. Jeon offered, gesturing gently toward the church office.
You dropped the boxes. “Oh, my-”
Your plan actually worked!
Your eyes widened in horror. Mortified, you immediately bent down to pick them up, only to find Fr. Jeon already reaching for them.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he chuckled softly, lifting the boxes with ease as if they weighed nothing. “Let me carry these.”
“S-Sorry, it was kinda heavy,” you reasoned out, your neck already turning red. You still couldn’t believe you were actually having a full conversation with him.
And now he was even taking you to his office!
The Lord had truly answered your prayers.
With a polite smile, Fr. Jeon handed the boxes to the truck before gesturing for you to follow him toward the office.
“I can let you borrow a few scriptures if you’d like. I have the new version of the bible—would you want that?” Fr. Jeon asked as he reached into his pocket for his office keys.
You nodded immediately, hands clasping together behind your back. “Uh, yeah. That would be heavenly!”
Heavenly? For Christ’s sake, Y/N.
Fr. Jeon only smiled at that, unlocking and opening the office door as if he were letting you step into a space you had no right to be so excited about.
Pious.
You had done your research last night—it had been difficult since he was such a private person, but you had managed to learn a few things.
Fr. Jeon had been ordained only six months ago and was now officially assigned as the priest of your city’s parish, something you were embarrassingly looking forward to.
He was twenty-eight. He had studied arts before eventually pursuing theology. There were only a handful of photos of him online…mostly seminarian group pictures, a few formal ones where he wasn’t wearing his usual cassock, though he was always in long sleeves.
You had even found one rare image where he had rolled his sleeve slightly during a group photo, revealing part of a tattoo on his arm beneath a white long-sleeve shirt and a cross necklace.
“Fuck… he’s hiding all that under his sleeves?” you had muttered to yourself last night, squinting at the screen and trying to find more…only to realize there was barely anything else. No social media, no casual photos, nothing.
“Take a seat here. I’ll get the books for you,” Fr. Jeon said now, smiling as he gestured toward the small couch in front of his desk.
You nodded and sat down obediently, trying very hard to look like a good parish girl.
His office was quiet and orderly in a way that immediately made you straighten your posture. The walls were lined with wooden bookshelves filled with thick religious texts, bible editions, theological commentaries, and neatly stacked parish documents. A simple desk sat against one side, organized and uncluttered, with a few folders, a pen holder, and a small lamp.
In the center of the room, mounted on the wall above the desk, hung a large crucifix—christ on the cross—watching over everything in silent stillness. The soft light from the window fell across it gently, making the entire room feel even more solemn, almost sacred.
Yet your thoughts were nowhere near sacred. You were here to attempt a very dangerous, carnal sin.
Seduction.
Masked in your perfect good-girl appearance, wondering if you could crack that unshakable composure he wore so effortlessly—if you could make his calm, holy restraint finally slip.
You slowly stood up from the couch while his back remained turned, focused on his bible scriptures. Your head tilted slightly as you tried to make it look as innocent as possible…to enter his space without revealing your true, sinful intentions.
“Fr. Jeon,” you called softly, standing too close behind him.
You needed to converse, to interact with him, to get him interested—to show him how much you adored God as much as he did.
“Hmm?” He didn’t glance at you, still focused on the scriptures.
You pouted, slowly taking a peek at what he was doing. “I was wondering if I could just read the bible here instead of borrowing it….” you attempted softly. “That way, if there’s something I don’t understand… I can ask you about it right away.” you said in a sweet, suggestive tone.
Fr. Jeon glanced at you, subtly stepping back when he realized you were right behind him, your vanilla scent brushing his senses.
He paused for a moment, looking into your hopeful eyes.
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, a small smile appearing on his face. “That's actually a good idea. Understanding scripture is easier when you can discuss it with someone. If I'm here, feel free to ask me anything you're confused about.”
Providence.
You smiled brightly, feeling your relationship with him finally take another step forward.
“That would be great! Thank you, Fr. Jeon,” you said, tilting your head and giving him one of your most charming smiles.
It was absurd.
After your finals, you were granted a two-month semestral break, and instead of using that time to party, travel with friends, or go on night outs, you had spent nearly all of it at the church.
Sana, unfortunately, never questioned your growing interest. She was too kind to question your faith.
Over the next few weeks, your afternoons were spent in the parish office, reading scripture, flipping through commentaries, and waiting for the familiar sound of the office door opening.
During those weeks, you managed to have a few small talks with him whenever he stopped by. You learned that he visited the church every day…sometimes to pray, sometimes to help with ongoing charity work, hear confessions, or simply check on the church office before moving on to his next responsibility.
Hearing about his schedule made you quietly adjust your own, ensuring you arrived at the office around 3 p.m.—the time he usually came in to check mails and paperwork at his office.
Today, you were wearing a baby blue dress that flowed nicely around your ankles, trimmed with delicate lace at the hem. Your hair was tied in a half ponytail with a blue ribbon, your makeup subtle, and your kitten heels matching the softness of your outfit.
Sana didn’t come with you every day anymore—she had other “holy” activities outside the church, like charity visits, helping at retreat houses, touring other churches, and even climbing mountains to visit shrines and statues.
You had politely declined most of those invitations, telling her you found comfort in staying within your church’s city.
Disingenuous.
The rhythm between you had become almost routine. You would come to the office in the afternoons, sit down with a bible, and quietly read while asking him occasional questions whenever something didn’t make sense.
Fr. Jeon would remain at his desk, either going through papers or reading his own scripture in silence. The room would stay mostly quiet, filled with the soft turning of pages and the steady presence of his focus, as if the world outside didn’t quite reach either of you in that space.
Sometimes you would try to steer the conversation a little further, testing small openings beyond scripture, but it always naturally circled back to the same things—bible passages, God, charity work, church matters… anything within that same unspoken boundary of the holy.
Yet, that alone felt like a privilege—being allowed into the quiet rhythm of his office, as if you belonged there too.
“Good day, Fr. Jeon. I brought some snacks for you,” you said with a smile as you entered the church’s office.
As usual, he was sitting at his desk, wearing his framed glasses while reading some papers.
You walked toward him and held up a small box of cookies you had gladly baked. “I made these…kind of like a thank-you gift for letting me stay here in the office,” you said proudly.
During your free time, you had spent the entire afternoon baking cookies for Fr. Jeon, thinking it would be a nice thank-you gift for him. At first, you had even wanted to decorate them with cute frosting faces of Jesus, convinced it would make you look extra devoted in his eyes.
Unfortunately, after staring at your frosting bag for ten minutes, you realized it might look a little too....performative.
So, with great reluctance, you abandoned your tiny Jesus-face cookie idea and settled for regular chocolate chip cookies instead.
The result sat neatly inside the box you now held out to him, carefully packed and decorated with far more effort than necessary.
Fr. Jeon looked at the cookies, his head tilting slightly when he noticed the box was covered in heart stickers. A soft smile formed on his lips, quietly touched by your kindness.
“That’s very kind of you, sweetheart.” he said softly, taking the box before looking up at you from his swivel chair. “Thank you, Y/N.”
Your cheeks flushed, making you feel like a schoolgirl finally noticed by your crush.
“No worries, Fr. Jeon… besides, I really like reading the bible here! it feels comforting,” you said, leaning in slightly as if to emphasize your point. “And thank you… you really help me understand it better when I get confused,” you added softly, fluttering your lashes at him.
He blinked slowly, clearly caught off guard by your sweet smile and the way you leaned in, his usual composure faltering for a brief moment as he paused.
“No...no problem sweetheart.” he said with a small smile. “I’m… glad you find comfort here. God will always find a way to comfort our souls.”
You smiled sheepishly and sat down on the small couch in front of his desk. “Hmm, I know…I always pray whenever I’m overwhelmed, somehow talking to God really helps me.” you said thoughtfully, even if you had only learned those kinds of phrases from Sana.
Fr. Jeon nodded quietly, he didn’t expect you to be this devoted.
You were very pure, kind, and charming. He had always noticed you volunteering at the church with your friend Sana—you would help with the boxes, sit around during her choir sessions, sometimes simply sit in the pew as if the presence of the church alone was enough for you.
It wasn’t hard to notice you. You were pretty and graceful, always smiling at everyone, carrying a soft, composed presence whenever he saw you at the church in your long skirts and modest blouses—like a quiet image of devotion itself.
Despite that, his eyes never lingered.
Always composed, always measured…because anything longer than a passing glance felt like something he shouldn’t allow himself.
Ever since you asked him about the bible that day, he had been quietly amazed. Nowadays, very few people showed genuine interest in scripture, let alone someone your age.
Seeing your devotion—or what he believed was devotion…filled him with a warmth he hadn't expected. It was rare to meet someone so eager to learn more about God.
What he didn't realize was that your sweet, holy little plan had been working all along.
And what you didn't realize was that your sweetness, your smiles, your carefully built innocence—had been working from the very beginning.
You were so focused on the fact that his eyes never lingered, so convinced that he remained untouched by your presence, that you failed to see the subtle effect you had already left behind.
“What do you do during your free time, Fr. Jeon?” you asked casually one friday afternoon, trying your best to sound merely curious rather than interested.
You had spent weeks keeping your questions safely within the boundaries of scripture. Careful not to reveal how badly you wanted to know the man behind the collar.
So you kept your tone light and innocent, as though it were nothing more than a harmless question that had happened to cross your mind.
Fr. Jeon's head tilted slightly. He was sitting across from you at the small coffee table inside his office, a bible resting in his hands just like yours.
“I visit charities,” he answered lightly. “I usually stay there for a while and spend time with the children.” a fond smile crossed his face at the memory.
Your lips parted. Oh! still religious.
“How about you, sweetheart?” Fr. Jeon asked.
You quickly searched for a suitably holy answer. “Umm, I-I sometimes climb mountains to visit shrines and blessed statues,” you said, biting your lip as you recalled one of Sana's favorite religious activities.
Fr. Jeon nodded thoughtfully, visibly impressed…his expression softening as if genuinely moved that you spent your free time in service of the Lord.
“What a good girl you are,” he said softly.
His eyes lifted to meet yours for a brief moment—just long enough to make your heart stumble…before he looked away first, a small smile forming on his lips that he quickly hid as he lowered his gaze back to the bible.
Your lips parted slightly, warmth rushing to your cheeks at the compliment.
Good girl. Oh to be called his good girl.
Even though Sana had been busy lately with her other holy activities, you didn't mind attending mass alone. In fact, you were more than happy sitting in the front row.
Your eyes would sparkle whenever Fr. Jeon spoke, your heart thumping whenever his gaze swept across the congregation and briefly met yours.
It always felt like a small victory, as though he was finally acknowledging you, finally noticing you.
“The Body of Christ.” Fr. Jeon held up the host.
“Amen,” you replied softly.
Unlike before, however, his gaze briefly lowered to meet yours. It lasted only a moment, accompanied by a small smile, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Enthralled.
Little by little, the distance between you seemed to shrink. The walls around him no longer felt quite as impenetrable as they once had.
Overtime, you had finally managed to crack through the edges of his usual reserve. What started as strictly scripture and charity talk had slowly, almost imperceptibly, begun to shift into something more personal.
You learned how he first became interested in the priesthood, how his mother had served in the church, and how deeply devoted his family was to their faith. You even found the courage to ask about his tattoos, discovering they came from his love for art long before he pursued theology.
In return, you had shared little pieces of yourself as well—your hobbies, your favorite things, your likes and dislikes. Of course, you were careful to sprinkle in a little extra holiness whenever you could, always eager to impress him and maintain the image he seemed to have of you.
Fr. Jeon enjoyed your presence. It was refreshing to converse with someone who seemed to share the same interest and devotion that he held so dearly.
As the weeks passed, he found himself quietly looking forward to your visits, anticipating the familiar sound of your voice drifting into his office each afternoon. After all, you had always been naturally playful and talkative, and somehow… your constant babbling had become a welcome part of his routine.
It had been a month since you started spending your afternoons in his office. Upon entering, you found him sitting at the coffee table instead of his desk. Scattered across the table were several small boxes in different colors.
Curious, you stepped inside, your usual box of homemade cookies in hand—the same kind you brought him every week.
“What’s that, Fr. Jeon?” you asked, taking a seat across from him and placing the cookies on the table.
Fr. Jeon looked up and smiled. “When's your birthday, sweetheart?”
You blinked, a question that was out of the blue—like you were on a date, and he was casually getting to know you.
Your cheeks immediately flushed, you told him your birth date, unable to hide the slight confusion in your voice.
Fr. Jeon nodded thoughtfully before reaching for one of the small boxes on the table.
There were twelve of them in total, each a different color. Pink, purple, green, blue, yellow, and several others.
“This would be your birthstone color then,” he said with a fond smile, handing you the box that matched your birth month.
Confused, you picked up the box and slowly opened it.
A small rosary bracelet rested inside.
Your heart began thumping so loudly you could hear it in your ears as you remembered the conversation from weeks ago…when he had gently corrected you and told you that rosaries weren't meant to be worn as necklaces.
“T-This is for me?” you asked, eyes wide and sparkling.
Fr. Jeon smiled softly. “Yes, sweetheart. I didn't know your birthday, so I bought all twelve colors,” he admitted with a small chuckle, glancing at the remaining boxes on the table.
It was such a simple gift, yet your heart fluttered stupidly in your chest. Somehow, this meant more than the flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, and expensive jewelry your admirers had given you before.
Before you could stop yourself, you rose from your seat and threw your arms around him.
Fr. Jeon froze in surprise, his eyes widened as you suddenly closed the distance between you. The force of the hug nearly made him lose his balance in the chair as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
“Thank you, Fr. Jeon...so sweet of you.” you murmured, overwhelmed with happiness.
He gulped harshly. It had been a long time since he had been touched by a woman.
Not accidentally in a crowded place. Not a polite handshake after mass. Not a brief greeting exchanged out of courtesy.
A long time.
His heart raced against his ribs as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Your hot breath fanned softly against his collar, carrying the familiar scent of vanilla that had become impossible for him not to recognize. The closeness was overwhelming in a way he hadn't expected, making him painfully aware of how little physical affection existed in his life.
His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before gripping the edge of the table instead. Every instinct told him to return the gesture, to place a comforting hand against your back and reassure you, but he remained still, forcing himself to hold onto his composure.
“You're welcome, sweetheart.” Fr. Jeon rasped, his voice coming out rougher than usual.
When you finally pulled away, you smiled brightly and sat back down in your chair, immediately slipping the bracelet onto your wrist.
Meanwhile, he remained frozen for a moment, trying to swallow away the lingering awareness of your closeness. The warmth of your embrace, your breath against his collar, the brief press of your breasts against him.
The hug had been innocent, sweet and harmless.
Which only made it worse.
Because he had no reason to be affected by it at all. He found himself quietly unsettled by the fact that he had needed to restrain himself in a moment that should have been nothing more than simple gratitude.
Temptation.
The next day, you proudly wore the rosary bracelet he had given you. You had even chosen a dress that matched its color, complete with a ribbon in your hair to tie everything together.
When you entered his office, you found Fr. Jeon standing by the bookshelves, a scripture in one hand. His glasses rested low on his nose as he read through a passage.
Immediately, you raised your wrist and showed off the bracelet. “Look,” you said with a grin.
Fr. Jeon glanced down, you were already twirling in place, eager to show him how the bracelet matched your dress.
Pretty.
The thought came so naturally that he frowned at himself.
“Good day, Y/N.” he replied, forcing his attention away from the observation.
You smiled brightly and wriggled your wrist. “I matched the bracelet with my dress and ribbon, see?”
Turning in a small circle again, you proudly showed off the entire outfit.
Fr. Jeon watched for a brief moment before lowering his gaze. Lately, he had become far too aware of things he shouldn't be noticing.
How pretty you looked whenever you walked into his office, how your face lit up whenever you talked to him, how easily your excitement filled the room.
Even your long dresses—soft fabric falling gently to your ankles, lace details tracing along the edges…began to feel distracting in a way he could not fully explain or justify.
Turning innocent things into distractions. The modesty that should have protected his thoughts was beginning to have the opposite effect, making him painfully aware of the woman hidden beneath layers of fabric and lace.
Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had allowed himself to be this close to a woman. Years spent in seminaries, rectories, church offices, and ministry had made him accustomed to a life of distance and discipline. He had grown comfortable in it.
Until you.
“Glad you like it, sweetheart,” he said at last, forcing a small smile before returning his attention to the scripture in his hands.
It was easier to focus on the page than on the way you were still standing there, smiling at him as if he had just given you the greatest gift in the world.
You giggled and stepped a little closer. “You know, I didn’t remove the bracelet yet… I’m planning on wearing it forever.”
Fr. Jeon raised a brow at that, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“Really?” he asked, unable to hide the delightfulness in his voice.
“Yes! I didn’t even remove it when I took a bath,” you giggled, smiling at him with pure adoration.
His brows furrowed slightly at what you had just said, but before he could stop himself, a faint flush crept across his cheeks.
Test of faith.
His mind betrayed him for a brief second, wandering toward the image of you showering while still wearing the bracelet he had given you, carefully keeping it on even then. The thought was so sudden and inappropriate that he immediately felt ashamed.
He gulped harshly, disappointed in himself. He would have to repent later and ask the Lord for forgiveness for allowing such a crude thought to cross his mind.
Fr. Jeon could not entertain that desire. It was forbidden, a temptation that needed to be buried and forgotten before it could take root.
Yet despite the turmoil quietly unfolding inside him, he weakly reached over and gently patted your head.
His heart immediately thumped against his ribs when your eyes lifted to meet his, shining with unmistakable adoration at the simple gesture.
You beamed at him...letting out a small, delighted giggle that softened the moment even further.
Craving.
The past few weeks had been exhausting. As the city's new presider, he had been buried beneath paperwork and responsibilities. The church had also been flooded with parishioners seeking confession, and the lines seemed to grow longer with each passing day.
Hundreds of voices had passed through the confessional since then, each carrying their own sins, burdens, and regrets. Most of them faded from memory the moment absolution was given.
Yours hadn't.
Fr. Jeon leaned back in his chair and stared at the crucifix hanging on the office wall. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room.
He had spent years strengthening his faith, disciplining his mind, and dedicating himself entirely to the Lord. Yet lately, all it took was a sweet smile, an innocent touch, or the sound of your voice to shake that discipline.
Closing his eyes, he lowered his head.
"Lord, forgive me," he murmured quietly.
A threat to his devotion.
-
“Ouch, fuck,” you groaned, pulling the tray of cookies out of the oven.
You were baking a fresh batch for Fr. Jeon today, trying out a larger baking tray than usual so you could make more cookies at once. Unfortunately, the experiment immediately backfired.
As you bent down to take the tray out, the hot metal edge accidentally brushed against your inner thigh. You winced, pouting as you watched your skin slowly turn red.
“This looks so bad,” you murmured, setting the tray of cookies down on the counter.
Luckily, you had been wearing long skirts these days.
Prepping the boxes of cookies you had baked, you decided to wear a purple long lacey skirt paired with a cute ruffled top. Your hair was styled into low pigtail braids, each tied with a ribbon at the ends. Holding the box carefully, you frowned slightly when you felt the bandage rubbing against your swollen skin.
“Good day, Fr. Jeon, I got you cookies!” you beamed.
You noticed he had become even busier after being appointed as the city’s official presider, though you didn’t realize he had been deliberately drowning himself in paperwork—anything to keep his thoughts from drifting where they shouldn’t.
“Good day, Y/N,” he replied, glancing up for only a brief moment to return your smile before his attention went back to the documents in front of him.
You frowned slightly and placed the box of cookies on the table in front of him. “Got you a different flavor! It’s red velvet this time,” you said, pointing at the box with a small, proud smile.
Fr. Jeon glanced at them, warmth flickering in his chest before he quickly pushed it down.
“Thank you, Y/N… that’s very kind of you,” he said gently, his tone careful, as though he was trying to place distance even while accepting your kindness.
You pouted almost immediately. The response felt far too brief for someone who had spent the morning baking for him.
Wanting his attention back on you, you shifted your weight and played with the ends of your braid, searching for something that would pull his focus away from the paperwork on his desk.
“You know… I even got burned earlier because I used a bigger tray and it hit me,” you said with a small chuckle, watching him carefully for a reaction. “But it’s fine, I’m just worried it might leave a mark,” you added with a light giggle, unable to hide the hopeful note in your voice as you waited for him to look at you again.
That got his attention immediately.
His brows furrowed as he looked up from the papers, concern breaking through the careful distance he had been trying to maintain. His eyes instinctively moved to your hands, searching for any sign of injury.
“Where is it? Let me see,” Fr. Jeon said, the concern in his voice unmistakable. His gaze lingered on your fingers and wrists, unable to find the burn he was looking for.
You had to fight the smile threatening to appear.
Slowly, you made your way around the table until you were standing beside him. From his swivel chair, he tilted his head back to follow your movement, his attention still fixed on your hands.
“It’s not there, Fr. Jeon…” you said softly. “Here...”
A small giggle escaped you as you gently lifted the hem of your long skirt.
His eyes widened instantly, panic flashing across his face before he could hide it. Before you could lift your skirt any higher, his hand shot forward on instinct, wrapping around your wrist to stop you.
“W-What are you doing?” he asked, nearly choking on the words.
The reaction was immediate, almost alarmed, as though the sight of you standing there with your hands on your skirt had caught him completely off guard. His grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm enough to halt your movement, his composure visibly rattled.
“I burned my thighs, Fr. Jeon… see?” you said innocently, lifting the fabric just enough to reveal the bandage wrapped beneath.
His lips parted at the sight, momentarily stunned.
The bandage sat against your soft thighs, the realization of how close he was to something so private making his mind go blank for a second.
He had never seen so much of you like this before—not this close, not this exposed in such an unguarded, unexpected way.
Your thighs looked so soft, pink and smooth… faintly marked by the redness around the bandage, drawing attention to how tightly you had wrapped it.
“It hurts a little,” you pouted, pointing at it.
His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, his gaze immediately faltering. Behind his glasses…his pupils were dilated, his ears and neck flushing red. His hands gripped the sides of his swivel chair tightly, as though grounding himself in place.
“Y-You wrapped it wrong,” he managed to say at last, his voice strained. He cleared his throat and forced his attention elsewhere, brows furrowing as he tried to recover his composure.
You tilted your head. “I did?” you looked down, trying to check your bandage when he suddenly stood up.
“I-I have a first aid kit in my cabinet. Sit in my swivel chair...I-I’ll wrap it for you,” he said quickly, already turning away from you as if creating distance would steady him. Without waiting for another reaction, he walked toward the cabinet near the bookshelves.
You bit your lip. “Okay…”
You obediently sat down in his swivel chair, a small, satisfied feeling flickering in your chest when you noticed how concerned…and slightly flustered—he seemed.
When he returned, he was holding a small first aid kit. Your breath caught slightly when he suddenly knelt in front of you.
“L-Lift your skirt, please.” he said, his tone firm but strained, his brows drawn together as he deliberately avoided looking too directly while waiting for you to comply.
Your heart stammered, green thoughts flowing inside your filthy brain.
With shaky, anticipatory hands, you lifted your skirt up to your inner thighs, purposefully raising it a little higher than necessary.
When he looked at your exposed thighs, his breath hitched. He tried to remain as calm as possible, forcing himself to focus. Slowly, he reached for the bandage, almost flinching when he felt the softness of your skin beneath the rough pad of his fingers.
“It’s too tight,” he said breathily, his hands trembling as he unwrapped the bandage from your thigh.
“Is it?” you said softly, watching the way his lips were slightly parted, his expression focused and controlled.
When the burn was finally exposed, his brows furrowed. “You should be more careful, Y/N.” he said quietly.
He took a small tube of ointment from the kit, applying a bit to his index finger before carefully spreading it over the burn.
You winced slightly at the contact, while his attention remained fixed and steady as he worked.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice lower than usual as he briefly checked your reaction before focusing back on the injury.
You bit your lip. “J-Just a little bit.”
He sighed harshly at that, gently rubbing the ointment in with steady movements, though you could see beads of sweat slowly forming on his forehead.
“Just a little more,” he murmured almost under his breath, applying another layer of ointment. His control was thinner now, each movement more deliberate than the last, as if he was carefully holding himself together.
When he took the new bandage, he wrapped it carefully around your burn with precise, practiced hands. Once he was done, he immediately adjusted your skirt, smoothing it down with controlled efficiency…perhaps a little too quickly, as though creating distance from the moment itself.
When he stood up, you could see it more clearly now: the restraint in his posture, the tension in his jaw, the way his composure wasn’t as effortless as before. He looked like he was actively holding himself back from something, grounding himself before it showed too much.
“Thank you,” you said warmly, smiling up at him.
He looked down at you, tilting his head slightly at how innocent you appeared with your ribbons and braids.
Forbidden.
That night, Fr. Jeon fell into the forbidden temptation he had been trying so hard to resist.
It was ten o’clock, yet he remained inside the church office, refusing to leave the premises until his mind and soul were free of guilt.
Frustrated, he buried himself in scripture, but his thoughts kept drifting back to your soft, beautiful thighs and the rosary bracelet on your wrist that had stirred such sinful thoughts within him.
“Forgive me,” he muttered under his breath, his tattooed hand sliding down his slacks to palm his hardening cock.
His lips parted. It had been a very long time since he had touched himself...he had almost forgotten how good it felt. With a shaky breath, he slowly stroked his growing erection, murmuring apologies and curses beneath his breath.
He nearly rolled his eyes back at the sensation. It felt far too good. His cock hardened with alarming ease at the mere thought of you.
Lust.
With trembling hands, he slowly pulled his cock free from his slacks. It was thick and pulsing, a bead of precum already forming at the swollen tip.
When his tattooed hand squeezed the base, more fluid gathered at the head, coating his throbbing shaft.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered under his breath, a groan escaping him as he rediscovered how good it felt to touch himself after so long.
It was sinful. Dirty.
He was still inside the church office, dressed in his usual black clerical shirt with its roman collar. Scripture lay open on his desk, and his glasses had begun to fog from the heat of his breath.
It had been years. He could no longer remember the last time he had touched a woman, nor the last time he had thought of one this way. When he devoted himself to the Lord, he had promised never to indulge in such acts again.
The longer he had restrained himself, the better it felt to finally release that tension after so many years. His cock almost ached. Thick and veiny, it twitched whenever he rolled the foreskin down.
“God, help me.” Fr. Jeon moaned shamelessly, jerking himself in slow, deliberate strokes, determined to savor every second of it.
He gathered spit in his mouth and let it trickle down his aching shaft. The added lubrication drew a groan from him. He bit down hard on his lip as the realization struck him once more—how good this felt, how much he had missed touching himself.
His thoughts drifted to you.
He imagined your sweet confession about still wearing the rosary bracelet he had given you... even while bathing. The thought lingered longer than it should have, unfurling in his mind as he pictured your small, delicate hands gliding a bar of soap across your soft skin. The rosary would brush against your chest with every movement, the beads shifting and sliding as you washed your nipples.
And then his thoughts wandered further, painting one image after another—your inner thighs, the way the beads might accidentally graze your soft skin as you shower. Each vision arrived unbidden, more vivid than the last, and far more difficult to suppress.
A sacred desire.
He was leaking more and more with every thought of you. The only sound echoing through the office was the wet rhythm of his hand jerking along his hard leaking cock.
Curious, he gathered a bead of precum between his thumb and index finger and brought it to his lips. The taste was salty, thick, and strangely addicting.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, collecting more of it only to taste himself again.
Your forbidden thighs.
The softness of them. The way he had been close enough to imagine burying himself in their warmth. The way they flushed pink beneath his touch. The way they looked so plump and beautiful, tempting thoughts he should never have entertained.
He imagined pressing kisses along your legs, lingering there as though each touch were an act of devotion. He imagined how soft your pussy would feel beneath his lips, how he would part your folds just to stare at your glistening cunt, worshipping it with the reverence of a prayer.
Fr. Jeon was close to climaxing, using memories of your past interactions to fuel his sinful fantasies. His hand was slick with saliva and precum, his thighs tensing as he struggled to hold himself back. He tried to edge himself, to prolong the moment, because the sensation felt far too good after so many years of restraint.
Your body. Even beneath your long dresses and modest blouses, he could tell you were beautiful.
It shamed him that it had been one of the first things he noticed when he saw you wearing that rosary. The way your chest filled out your modest clothing. The way your waist appeared so delicate beneath layers of fabric. The way he found himself wondering what was hidden beneath all that lace and decency.
It was a sin he was terrified to acknowledge. A sin he was terrified to put into words.
But you were beautiful, kind, gentle, and devoted in your faith.
He wanted to fuck you.
When the shameful thought finally broke free from the restraints he had placed upon it, he came hard, his release staining the dark fabric of his slacks.
A deep groan tore from his throat as he continued to stroke himself, milking every last wave of pleasure from his body. His thumb brushed along the underside of his cock, chasing the lingering sensitivity.
“Fuck, I’m still hard,” he muttered, biting his lower lip as he glanced down at himself.
It was understandable.
After years of abstinence, it wasn't surprising that his body responded so eagerly. The restraint he had maintained for so long seemed to have shattered all at once.
Yearning.
All night, instead of losing himself in scripture, he gave in to temptation. His hand jerked shamelessly over his cock as his thoughts returned to you again and again. To every forbidden desire he had tried to suppress. To every impulse he had buried beneath prayer, discipline, and devotion.
Hours passed unnoticed.
He had so much pent-up desire, so much neglected hunger, that he remained awake until dawn, caught in an endless cycle of pleasure in jerking his insatiable cock. The office grew quiet around him while the darkness slowly gave way to morning light, yet his thoughts never strayed far from your face, your kindness, and the feelings he had spent so long denying.
And the fantasies that filled his mind were so sinful that he feared they had carried him beyond forgiveness.
“This should do it,” you giggled to yourself, wrapping the bandage poorly on purpose so he would have an excuse to fix it for you again.
Your box of cookies was already prepared, resting neatly on your lap while you held a bible in your hands and waited for Fr. Jeon.
Unfortunately, hours passed with nothing but the sound of turning pages accompanying you. You flipped through scripture after scripture, occasionally glancing toward the door, expecting him to appear at any moment.
Yet he never came.
Confused, you eventually stepped out of the office to look for him yourself. Perhaps he was outside helping with the donations or speaking with parishioners, as he often did. But after wandering around the church grounds and checking every place you could think of, you still couldn't find him anywhere.
“Where is he?” you pouted to yourself, a disappointed sigh slipping past your lips as you made your way back to his office.
By the time you returned, the warm glow of sunset had already begun spilling through the stained-glass windows.
Realizing he wasn't coming, you reluctantly decided to leave the cookies behind along with a small handwritten note. The thought alone made your chest feel strangely heavy.
“I miss him already,” you murmured, frowning at your own words.
It wasn't as if you could simply call or text him. Despite spending weeks at the church, Fr. Jeon had never given you his number, and you had never found the courage to ask for it. Perhaps it was because you preferred seeing him in person.
The idea of receiving his answers through a text message whenever you had questions about scripture felt disappointing somehow. You liked sitting across from him, listening to his voice as he patiently explained things to you. You liked the little smiles he gave you, the way his attention never seemed rushed, and the comfort that came with simply being around him.
That day left you unusually sad. It was the first time you hadn't seen him at all. Even when he was busy, he always managed to stop by, if only for a minute. No matter how much work he had, he never missed the opportunity to check on you.
Avoidance.
You came back today...hopeful that you would finally see him again and finally ask where he had been yesterday, you were instead met with confusion when he didn’t appear again. You pouted when you noticed the box of cookies you had left behind was still untouched, exactly where you had placed it.
“That’s odd, he can’t miss a bible reading,” you murmured to yourself, already accustomed to his usual routine. He always visited the church at a certain time to pray quietly and read scripture before continuing his day, and you had grown used to waiting for him during those moments.
But days passed, and he was still nowhere to be seen.
The cookies you had prepared for him began to lose their freshness, and the papers he usually kept neatly on his desk started to gather dust. A strange sense of unease settled in your chest as you tried to understand what had changed.
You asked around the church, speaking to parishioners and volunteers, hoping someone might have seen him or could explain where he had gone. But what you learned nearly broke your heart.
He was still coming to the church every day. He just arrived earlier now.
You had always known his schedule well—he used to visit his office around three in the afternoon, which was why you were always there waiting at that time. You never thought he would suddenly change it without warning.
“T-Thank you,” you managed to say, forcing a small smile when one of the parishioners finally informed you that he had been seeing Fr. Jeon every morning. You were lucky this particular parishioner stayed at the church throughout the day, otherwise you might never have learned the truth.
Still, the information left you disappointed and strangely hurt.
The fact that he was visiting every day but never acknowledged your cookies. The fact that he never even left a note to explain. The fact that you had been waiting for him all this time, dressed in your usual modest dresses, as if your presence alone meant anything to him.
Tears slowly began to gather in your eyes for reasons you couldn’t fully understand. It felt almost like being rejected without a single word, like a quiet heartbreak you hadn’t been prepared for. It seemed as though he was suddenly avoiding you.
“What did I do?” you pouted softly to yourself, walking home with slumped shoulders as you tried to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks.
On the way, your thoughts turned over your last interaction with him. Had you been too bold? Had he noticed something in you that you thought you had hidden well? Had he finally realized that your devotion wasn’t as pure as it appeared?
The more you thought about it, the more desperate you became to see him again. And instead of wanting to reveal your true ill intentions, you found yourself wishing the opposite—that he would see how devoted you were, how deeply you admired him, how willingly you would sacrifice your dignity just to remain close to him.
Restraint.
You didn’t know that he had been avoiding you all along, because your sick plan had finally taken effect, his careful restraint crumbling like a rock under pressure.
Fr. Jeon couldn’t bring himself to face you. Even the slightest eye contact felt like it would burn through his skin, your presence alone eating away at whatever remained of his guilt until there was nothing left but discomfort and temptation.
Desperate.
You woke up early that day, preparing yourself carefully so you could see him. The constant overthinking had become unbearable, and you were convinced that seeing him would finally calm your thoughts.
Slowly, you walked through the church halls, your kitten heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Your wandering gaze passed over parishioners and silent figures lost in prayer, the morning air gentle and warm as it settled over your chaotic mind. The scent of the church—fresh flowers and holy water—was oddly soothing as you moved deeper inside.
But as you went further in, you nearly lost your balance when you noticed his office door slightly ajar.
Your heart began to pound in anticipation as you carefully approached. And when you finally looked inside, your eyes widened.
There he was.
In his usual black clerical long-sleeved shirt and roman collar, Fr. Jeon stood looking down at the box of cookies you had left a week ago.
Your heart sank at the realization that he must have seen the box of cookies days ago—and still chose to ignore it.
Taking a steadying breath, you stepped inside and gently closed the door behind you, locking it without hesitation.
“Fr. Jeon,” you said softly.
He looked up immediately, his eyes widening as though he had seen something he shouldn’t have. For a brief moment, he looked almost like he had seen a ghost. His entire body stiffened, tension tightening in his posture as he forced himself upright.
“What are you doing here?” His tone came out sharper than intended, almost accusatory, as he tried to regain control of himself by straightening his clerical collar and adjusting the bridge of his glasses.
You frowned at the reaction, slowly taking a step closer. Something in your chest cracked when you noticed how his expression shifted with each movement you made—his brows tightening, his gaze dropping as if he couldn’t bear to hold it steady on you for too long.
“You didn’t get the cookies I got you,” you said with a small pout, glancing between the box and him as if the answer should have been obvious.
Fr. Jeon bit his lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment, as though needing time to steady himself.
“I was… busy,” he said, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard. He almost stepped back when you moved closer.
You tilted your head at him. “Am I taking too much of your time, Father?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a sad little pout.
Patience.
Fr. Jeon exhaled slowly and heavily, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as if trying to ground himself. Your presence alone seemed to shut down every carefully built wall he had been maintaining.
He looked down at your sad pout, and something in him nearly cracked at the sight of your sadness. For a moment, his composure faltered as fantasies surged back in, uninvited and overwhelming.
For the past few days, he had been deliberately avoiding you. He had started arriving at the church earlier, knowing you always came in the afternoon, carefully timing his routines so he would not run into you. He avoided his office as well, because every corner of it reminded him of you.
But this morning, he had come in anyway.
And the first thing he saw was the box of cookies you had left behind… along with a small note that said you missed him.
Desire.
For the past few nights, he had been jerking his cock non-stop. Ever since that first time, he couldn’t shake the feeling, couldn’t resist the urge to return to it again and again—groaning your name under his breath like a sacred prayer.
“No, sweetheart… I’m just—”
“I’m sorry… I just really like it here, and I love talking to you,” you said in a soft tone, stepping closer until he could smell your vanilla perfume, your pleading eyes pulling him deeper into your orbit.
Fr. Jeon swallowed harshly, his pulse quickening at how sweet and beautiful you looked for him.
“Sweetheart—”
“Would you like me to leave?” you asked quietly, biting your lower lip.
His eyes dropped to your lips. His hands curled into fists, every passing second testing his hard-earned faith and devotion.
But no...he would rather endure the torment alone, rather than risk touching your beautiful, tempting soul.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you much of my time right now. I’ve been really busy—” Fr. Jeon said with finality.
Suddenly, you rose onto your tiptoes to meet his height and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“It’s okay, Father… I understand,” you whispered, your lips lingering dangerously close to his.
Succumbed.
Before you could pull away, his hands slid to your waist, steadying you—holding you in place more firmly than expected. You were about to look at him in confusion when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours.
Your eyes widened, your body nearly falling backward, but he held you firmly in place. His kiss was harsh and desperate—like a man starved, and you were the only water in a burning desert.
His tongue forced its way into your mouth, and the sound of his low groan sent shivers down your spine.
His brows were furrowed tightly, every bit of pent-up frustration spilling into the kiss. It was rough, consuming—his control slipping as he pulled you deeper into it, saliva beginning to spill messily between your mouths from how intensely he claimed your lips.
When he finally pulled away, his pupils were blown wide. His lips were red and swollen, his chin damp with both of your saliva.
He released your waist almost instantly, as though you had burned him.
Swallowing hard, he stared down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
Oh God. What had he done?
“W-What—” you stammered, bewildered, still in shock at how easily Fr. Jeon—a priest with such a good reputation….had fallen into your lips like a man undone by weakness and lust.
Surrendered.
When you saw him step back, his brows furrowing as if he had just realized what he had done, you immediately grabbed his arms.
“I—I’m sorry, this is blasphemous, I—”
You pulled him back and kissed him again, softer this time. “I like you, Fr. Jeon. Please don’t avoid me,” you almost pleaded, tugging him down so you could reach his lips again.
His eyes widened. He shook his head immediately. “Y/N, n-no… this is wrong,” he blurted weakly, trying to grab your wrists as you pulled him closer.
Hearing those words from your mouth struck something deep in him, shaking his resolve. He couldn’t fall for you, he couldn’t kiss you, he couldn’t touch you...he couldn’t even think about you.
The only solution was to stay away—to pretend none of this had ever happened.
You shook your head. “Please, I want you so badly… there’s nothing wrong with this,” you insisted, trying to kiss him again, but he turned away. His eyes were heavy-lidded, weakened, the air in the office suddenly suffocating.
“You make me happy, Fr. Jeon… please,” you pleaded.
He shook his head firmly. “I am a priest, Y/N. This is forbidden,” he said weakly, his voice low and rough—like every word cost him something, like it was painful to say.
“But...why did you kiss me?” you pleaded.
Fr. Jeon groaned under his breath, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“Do you like me too, Fr. Jeon?” you pushed further, stepping closer, watching how much it seemed to strain him.
“Y/N, this is wrong—”
Your lips parted. “You...you like me,” you concluded when he didn’t deny it.
A small smile formed on your lips at the confirmation. Suddenly, the past few weeks made sense—the distance, the avoidance, the restraint. Everything clicked into place.
When he weakly let go of your wrists, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, as if he had finally surrendered to you. His lips parted, his eyes clouded and hazy.
“Since when, Father?” you whispered, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He shut his eyes tightly. The feeling of your hands on him was already enough to send him spiraling. His lack of physical affection was becoming obvious in the way his body reacted—his restraint slipping under something as simple as your soft, shallow touch.
“The first time I saw you at the church,” he whispered so low you almost didn’t catch it, as though even admitting it was a sin.
You gasped, your eyes widening at the revelation that he had noticed you from the very beginning.
“I-I thought… you didn’t recognize me. Y-You were always so busy and—”
“I did,” he cut in softly, his voice rough. “But it’s impure of me to stare at such beauty. I cannot do that.”
His gaze dropped to your lips again, weak and conflicted.
You gasped, a fond grin forming on your beautiful face. “Indeed, that’s very impure of you…Father,” you giggled.
Fr. Jeon groaned, attempting to step back again, but this time you pulled him closer and kissed him without hesitation. When you tried to part his lips with yours, you felt him shake his head, his hands gripping your waist to hold you back.
“N-No… we can’t—”
“Shh... it’s okay, Father… we’ll keep this a secret,” you whispered like a little devil in disguise, your pouty lips brushing against his again. “No one will know…”
Fr. Jeon groaned, your words sending shivers down his spine. The tension between restraint and desire tightened further.
“No, sweetheart, this is wrong… we should—”
“Please, Father…I’m already so wet.” you mumbled softly, looking at him with pleading eyes.
His eyes widened. It had been a long time since he had heard such crude words—especially coming from a pretty mouth like yours.
“T-That’s—” he stammered, his composure slipping further under the weight of you.
“Unholy?” you giggled, taking his right hand and guiding it beneath your long skirt.
His lips parted when his fingers brushed against the wet fabric of your underwear. His cheeks and ears burned red at the realization of how aroused you were.
You bit your lip, rising onto your tiptoes to whisper against his ear.
“No one will know.” you dragged your tongue along the shell of it, smiling when you heard him let out a soft, broken sound.
Blasphemous.
His lips grazed your inner thighs as his once devout, God-bound gaze now fixed on your bare, wet pussy. He knelt before you like you were some immaculate saint.
“Y-You’re so beautiful,” he said breathlessly, his fingers parting your folds and gently pulling back your hood to expose your sensitive clit.
You gasped loudly when he spat onto your center, his soft lips immediately wrapping around your clit, sucking in both his saliva and your wetness.
“Oh, God,” you moaned.
Fr. Jeon looked almost sacred between your thighs. Your skirt was bunched at your waist just enough for him to fully indulge in your pussy, while his black clerical shirt began to stain from how much you were dripping onto him. His glasses had grown slightly fogged from the heat of his breath against your body and the warmth between your legs.
He ate your pussy like a starving man, unable to get enough. His tongue pushed inside your tight cunt in search of more, drawing more juices from you, while the obscene sounds of his mouth filled the room. His throat worked with every swallow, adam’s apple bobbing as he greedily took in every drop you gave him.
“You taste so good,” he mumbled between your thighs, the vibration of his voice sending pleasure straight to your core.
You bit your lip, giggling softly while trying to keep your balance—you were leaning against his desk.
“Do you like how wet it is?” you asked, looking down at him as if amused by how much he was enjoying himself.
Fr. Jeon nodded against your cunt. “So wet and pretty,” he mumbled, sucking your clit until his cheeks hollowed, his dimples showing each time he latched on harder.
The way he ate you out was wet and messy, continuously spitting as his lips stayed locked around your clit. You gasped when he pinched your folds together, trying to eat your entire pussy into his warm mouth.
Every time you squirmed, he tightened his grip on your thighs, groaning under his breath as if he wanted to drown himself in you completely.
Whenever he pulled back to breathe, he took a moment to stare at your swollen, messy cunt—admiring it like something sacred, something almost holy in its beauty. He whispered how ethereal it was before spitting on it again and diving back in hungrily.
“H-How come you’re so good at that?” you moaned, looking down at his mouth as he remained relentless, your juices dripping down his chin.
Fr. Jeon looked up at you, adjusting the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I’ve fantasized about this,” he said with a smile. “I imagine devouring your cunt while I jerk off my cock.”
He pressed a light kiss to the top of your clit before burying his face against you again.
Your eyes rolled back at the confession, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Hmm... really? That’s ungodly, Father.”
Fr. Jeon only groaned, pressing his face deeper until you were certain he could barely breathe. “I’m only willing to surrender myself to you.”
You gasped. The way he said it felt so wrong, so forbidden, and your pussy throbbed at the thought of him willingly committing such sinful acts, of him literally being on his knees for you.
When he felt your wetness growing, he lifted his head slightly to look at your cunt. Using his index and middle finger, he spread you open, watching as more of your milky-white juices gathered.
Fr. Jeon groaned, swallowing hard at the sight of how wet and horny you had become.
“You like that, sweetheart?”
He gathered your juices, the pads of his fingers sliding down your slit and making you flinch. Your breath caught when you watched him scoop your cum onto his fingers and bring them to his mouth, tasting your sweetness. "You got so much wetter."
“Fr. Jeon, oh my—”
He continued gathering the excess wetness, scooping up your cum until he was satisfied that you were no longer dripping. His brows furrowed as he sucked the collected juices from his fingers, unwilling to let any of it go to waste.
When he finally gathered the last drop, you frowned as he rose to his feet.
For a moment, you thought he was done. Then he brought his fingers, coated with your cum, up to your mouth.
“Open up, sweetheart.” he whispered, his gaze lowering to your lips, swollen from how hard you had been biting them.
You slowly opened your mouth, moaning when he slid his fingers inside so you could taste your own juices mixed with traces of his saliva.
“You taste like sin, don’t you?” he said softly, his fingers twirling inside your mouth, nearly making you gag.
You sucked on his fingers, your cheeks hollowing eagerly as you looked up at him with expectant eyes. “Mhm. I want to taste how pure you are, then,” you said softly, sucking his fingers the way you imagined sucking his cock.
His cock twitched inside his slacks, precum already gathering at the swollen tip.
He immediately shook his head. “Want to make you cum first, sweetheart.”
Before you could protest, he was already kneeling again, his tongue out as he buried his face between your thighs as though his life depended on it. His nose brushed against your swollen clit while his tongue alternated between slow, deliberate licks and eager suction, determined to draw every reaction from you.
The moment he sensed you were getting close, he pushed his tongue deeper, determined to suck every drop. You were about to push him away from the sudden wave of oversensitivity, but his grip on you tightened.
"I wanna swallow it, please."
You bit down hard on your lip, whispering curses beneath your breath as your body tensed. Your pussy pulsed uncontrollably, heat rushing through you as release overtook your senses.
He groaned at the way your body responded to him, your pussy throbbing vigorously against his tongue.
“I-I want to pleasure you too,” you almost cried.
He didn't stop eating you, even after you came he was sucking your pussy again. He had already made you cum several times just by eating you out. Even after your fifth orgasm, he still hadn’t stopped—still devouring you, drawing out every last drop before spitting it back down onto your slit, pulling your folds apart just to watch it drip, then catching it again with his tongue as if he couldn’t get enough.
You were already overstimulated, your thighs burning from his tight grip, but every time you looked down at him, another wave of arousal surged through you. His brows were furrowed, his eyes closed, almost as if he were praying.
“Please, I want to eat your pussy more.” he mumbled, looking up at you through his glasses, his tongue teasing slow circles around your very swollen clit.
It had been hours. His knees were already red from kneeling, and your back ached from leaning against his desk, yet he still had the stamina to continue, again and again. His cheeks and chin were slick from your cum.
You could see his slacks straining…his arousal obvious beneath the fabric—but he remained focused, almost pleading when you tried to push him away, his mouth still following your spent pussy as if he couldn’t let go.
“Please… one more, sweetheart,” he begged, his thumb soothing along your inner thighs.
When you shyly nodded, he parted your legs further, scooping up what remained of your release as it dripped down. His face pressed in close, his nose brushing against you as he worked, the carpet below you already damp with a mixture of saliva and your arousal.
Unholy.
The once-simple afternoon bible sessions had turned into something far more profane.
The moment you arrived at his office and locked the door behind you, his hands were immediately around you. He would drop to his knees, pushing your panties aside so he could press his face against your wet slit, sniffing your cunt before his tongue slipped out to taste your wetness.
“Hmm… do you like my pussy, Fr. Jeon?” you whispered, fingers tangling in his hair as he indulged you.
He groaned against you, burying his face deeper. “Like it so much.”
He was always so desperate—needy, almost whiny. It was obvious how deeply his years of abstinence had affected him, how long he had denied himself even the thought of such intimacy.
Every touch carried the weight of that restraint, as though all those years of self-denial had finally found an outlet. The way he ate your pussy for hours without stopping, the way he would suck your breasts until they turned swollen and red.
Every time you tried to touch him, he would pin your hands down instead. You had never really touched him yet—he always insisted on giving first, on worshipping you instead. He would say that pleasing you was enough,that eating your cum was enough for him, that devoting himself to your body was what satisfied him most.
“Shh, sweetheart… please be quiet.” he pleaded, his middle and index finger pushing inside your cunt, knuckles deep while massaging your spongy spot.
You were certain his fingers were already wrinkled from how long he had been fingering you, your nipples swollen and sensitive from how harshly he had been sucking them while rubbing your clit.
You bit your lip, tears almost forming in your eyes from how good it felt. “S-sorry, it’s just so good,” you mumbled incoherently.
Fr. Jeon groaned. “Yeah?” He spat down where his fingers met your pussy. “Hear that, sweetheart? You’re so wet for me.” he muttered, biting your nipple harshly while his fingers continued going in and out of your wet cunt, the sounds echoing inside the church office.
You were always a whining mess. Even if he hadn’t fucked you yet, your body was constantly left exhausted from how intensely he made you cum repeatedly. Your legs were always wobbly and shaking after each round, and you would always come home with new hickeys and bruises left by his harsh mouth.
He had the stamina to go on for hours and hours, until the entire afternoon was filled with nothing but wet sounds and your filthy moans echoing through his office.
You wanted to return the pleasure so badly, but every time he begged you to eat your pussy, your knees would go weak. You always gave him what he wanted, opening your legs and spreading your cunt for him.
It was one afternoon when you decided that you wanted to please him.
He was busy sucking on your nipples when you noticed how hard he was beneath his slacks. Your eyes rolling back when you saw him almost humping the air.
With a determined groan, you gently pushed him away from you. Your nipples were already pink and swollen.
“Let me taste you,” you pleaded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before trailing down his jaw.
He protested again, trying to guide you back against the couch.
“Sweetheart—”
“Please, Father.” you begged. “You always make me cum so good. I think I’d cum even harder if I got to taste your cock.”
You couldn’t deny that he always left you more than satisfied, constantly pushing you to the edge of overstimulation. Every time it happened, you could see just how hard his cock was. Sometimes, you would even catch the subtle movements of his hips while he was buried between your thighs, completely consumed by pleasuring you.
Fr. Jeon licked his lower lip, as though contemplating whether he could truly accept the idea of you being on your knees for him. It felt like too much to bear, as if he wasn’t ready for it yet. Shamefully, he was certain he would cum the moment your lips touched his tip.
But seeing you like this—begging, your lips drawn into a sweet pout—made his resolve weaken. His eyes fluttered shut helplessly as you eagerly knelt in front of him.
“Sweetheart,” he rasped, swallowing hard.
You looked up at him before slowly leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against the bulge beneath his slacks.
A harsh groan escaped him. His cock throbbed beneath the fabric, and that simple, innocent kiss was almost enough to make him stumble.
When you pulled down his zipper, you gasped audibly at the sight of his black boxers, already soaked with a large patch of wetness from his precum.
“You’re leaking, Father,” you said with a pout, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
He sucked in a breath, his hands curling into fists as he struggled to compose himself. You looked beautiful and completely undignified at the same time, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to resist.
Slowly, you tugged down his boxers...just enough to tuck his balls and free his hard cock.
Your eyes widened.
He was huge and pretty, twitching on his own and curving upward. Thick veins ran along his shaft, and his swollen pink tip glistened with precum.
You licked your lower lip, unable to hide your anticipation at the sight of him. Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss to the wet tip.
A strained whimper escaped him.
His hands immediately grabbed the sides of his clerical shirt, as though physically restraining himself from losing control over something as simple as your lips touching him.
“Look at me when I suck you, Fr. Jeon.” you said, raising a brow when you noticed him avoiding eye contact.
He bit his lower lip, trying to look down at you.
You gasped when his cock twitched the moment you made eye contact.
With a teasing look, you slowly sucked his mushroom tip while keeping your eyes on him, fluttering your lashes as you took him into your warm mouth.
He groaned harshly. He was about to close his eyes, but you shook your head immediately.
“Eyes on me, please.”
“Oh, God,” he whimpered, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes as you eagerly sucked his leaking tip.
You swirled your tongue along the underside of his cock, his eyes rolling back every time you repeated the motion. When you finally pulled away, you spat on the tip, your fingers immediately spreading your saliva and his precum along the shaft, leaving him even wetter and messier.
“Does it feel good?” you asked before taking his tip into your mouth again, trying to take him deeper until his mushroom head brushed the back of your throat. The upward curve of his cock dragged against the roof of your mouth, drawing another whimper from him.
“Y-You look like a slut,” he blurted out through a moan, his jaw repeatedly tensing, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was fisting his shirt.
You looked up at him and nodded obediently...like a good girl seeking praise.
He bit his lower lip. “My pretty slut.”
Fr. Jeon was trying so hard not to come. He wanted to savor the feeling of your tight mouth around him for as long as possible, wanted to hold on to it, to prolong it, but you were simply too much..too pretty, too warm. Every time you took him deeper, his resolve weakened a little more.
Your eyes were already beginning to redden, your throat struggling to accommodate his thickness. Drool slipped messily down your chin, and the wet, obscene sounds coming from your mouth only pushed him closer to the edge. Each swallow, each desperate attempt to take more of him, made his chest tighten with pleasure, his restraint slipping further and further away.
Whenever you pulled back to catch your breath, you would stroke his cock quickly with your hands and spit messily onto his tip.
Before the saliva could slide down his length, you would take him back into your mouth, licking along his shaft and tracing the prominent veins with your tongue before returning to the swollen underside of his head with soft, teasing kitten licks.
Using your free hand, you reached up to cup his balls gently, applying just enough pressure to make him whimper. The movement only made it harder for him to hold himself together, especially as you continued gagging on his cock like a good little slut.
The moment you noticed him clutching his shirt again, you immediately grabbed his hand.
“Use my mouth, Father,” you whispered, guiding his hand to your hair, silently urging him to take control.
Fr. Jeon groaned and shook his head, but your eagerness never wavered. You paused, waiting patiently for him, your eyes fixed on his face.
The moment you placed your hands obediently behind your back, he nearly cursed the Lord himself.
He weakly dragged a hand through your hair, gathering it away from your face before pulling you a little closer. His jaw tightened as he looked down at you, every ounce of restraint tested by the sight of your quiet obedience.
Grabbing your hair with both hands, he guided your face toward him before finally rolling his hips, slowly thrusting into your waiting mouth.
“God, you really are a slut,” he moaned, his composure unraveling a little more with every passing second.
Whenever he pulled back, you would twirl your tongue around the underside of his crown, earning a shaky whimper from him. Then, he would push you down forcefully onto his cock, your nose hitting his pubic hair as he lost whatever restraint he had left.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he whimpered.
Your mouth was already growing tired, but you remained determined, refusing to pull away. Tears gathered in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks as you struggled to keep up with him, yet you stayed exactly where he wanted you.
When he saw the tears in your eyes, he almost stopped.
But you eagerly took him deeper, deliberately pushing forward until your face was pressed flush against his pubic hair. Your mouth struggled to accommodate his thickness, soft gargling sounds escaping despite your efforts to suppress them, yet you took everything he gave you.
“God, fuck.” his eyes rolled back as he released hot, thick cum into your mouth.
He was about to push you away when your hands tightened around the backs of his thighs, holding him firmly in place...determined not to let a single drop of his cum go to waste.
“Sweetheart,” he said weakly.
When you finally pulled away- his cock slipping from your lips, you stuck out your tongue to show him his thick, milky cum. Your lashes fluttered as you held his gaze for a moment, letting him take in the sight before you swallowed.
Delirious.
“The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Fr. Jeon stood before the congregation, one hand resting lightly against the pulpit as he prepared to proclaim the gospel.
“A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew.”
“Glory to You, O Lord,” you whispered under your breath, your sparkling eyes lifted up toward him.
You were in your usual favorite spot—in the front row, like his favorite little church girl—your hair tied with a white ribbon, a long modest dress hiding the sinful image beneath.
Every time he spoke, his eyes never lingered on you. He looked over the crowd like a devoted priest, delivering his words slowly, with quiet passion. And whenever he did happen to find you in the congregation, he would only glance past you, as if you were anyone else.
You smirked inwardly. Who would’ve known that this same priest was literally begging on his knees to eat your pussy inside the church office?
When Holy Communion came, you made sure to open the first few buttons of your dress, revealing the rosary necklace you were wearing—the small cross resting between the plush curve of your cleavage.
“The Body of… Christ,” Fr. Jeon said slowly, his eyes drifting down to the rosary wrapped around your neck, the cross sitting dangerously above your breasts.
“Amen,” you said softly, parting your lips for him.
You almost smiled in quiet victory when you saw his jaw tighten—his composure slowly, subtly fracturing beneath the weight of your sacrilegious act.
When he placed the host on your tongue, you leaned in just slightly too far, letting your tongue brush against his thumb in a fleeting, deliberate touch. So small it could be denied. So intentional it could not be mistaken.
A soft hum escaped you as you pulled back, watching the shift in him—the way his body stilled, the way his breath caught. You were already turning away when his voice followed you, low and controlled.
“Meet me after this.”
You looked up at him, briefly thrown, but his gaze had already returned to the ritual at hand, as if nothing had happened.
Delight curled through you at the sight of him unraveling so carefully in public, holding himself together by force alone while you watched the cracks form in real time.
And when you returned to your seat, you could still feel it—the difference. His voice had deepened into something sharper, more distant. His posture stiffened as he finished the mass, each word now measured, restrained, as though he were forcing himself back into place one line at a time.
Wicked.
Sitting properly on the couch in his office, you waited patiently for Fr. Jeon. It was the first time you would see each other up close after mass, and the thought alone made a soft, bubbling excitement bloom in your chest.
You even brought a small box of cookies for him, carefully balanced in your lap, as if sweetness alone could disguise the anticipation curling beneath your ribs.
When the office door finally opened, you looked up at once and smiled.
He stood there still in his liturgical vestments. Over his white alb, he wore a flowing chasuble that draped heavily over his shoulders, embroidered gold catching the afternoon light that spilled through the glass windows like something almost sacred in itself. A white stole rested beneath it all, marking him clearly as the celebrant of the mass, a figure meant to be untouchable.
He looked absolutely breathtaking—so holy, so distant, so unreachable.
And yet, you already had him like a servant—willing, obedient, on his knees for you.
When he walked toward you, his expression was serious and unyielding. You stood up quickly, excitement lifting you, holding out your small gift for him.
“Good afternoon, Fr. Jeon. I got you cooki—”
The cookies slipped from your hands as he suddenly closed the distance, his hand wrapping around your throat. The rosary beads pressed sharply into your skin.
“I told you...that rosaries are not meant to be worn around your neck, didn’t I?” he said in a mocking tone, his voice low and controlled. His eyes looked darker behind his glasses.
His liturgical vestments suddenly felt overwhelming in this close space, no longer distant or ceremonial, but imposing, almost suffocating, as if you were only now realizing the weight of him in this proximity.
You gasped as his fingers tightened slightly around your throat, not enough to hurt—just enough to demand an answer.
“Y-You did, Father.”
“Mhm. I did,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Didn’t I?”
A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the shift in him—how his composure had snapped so suddenly, as if the thin thread of his restraint, stretched in the presence of the Lord, had finally given way.
Dominance.
You gasped when he kissed you hard, cutting off your breath in an instant. His other hand bunched up the long skirts of your dress, hot palms slipping beneath the fabric to cup your warm pussy.
“You’re so impure,” he chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing over your clothed clit.
A soft moan escaped you as you tried to wriggle in his hold, but his grip at your throat kept you firmly in place.
“Sit on my desk and spread your legs,” he commanded, releasing you all at once—both your throat and your pussy.
With shaky legs, you moved toward his desk, climbing onto it and bunching your long skirt up around your waist before slowly spreading your legs wide for him.
Fr. Jeon walked toward you, his gaze fixed on the sight of you—so openly willing for him. The rosary cross rested between your breasts like a sin made visible, the white ribbons in your hair now looking almost tainted, your dress bunched up enough to expose your wet cunt to him.
His fingers closed around the rosary you were wearing. Your breath hitched as he slowly pulled it, forcing your neck to tilt forward with the motion.
“You’re such a whore, wearing this around me,” he said in a condescending tone, drawing you closer until he pressed a shallow kiss to your lips.
“I-Isn’t it pretty?” you asked weakly, still trying to tease him.
He let out a humorless chuckle. Without another word, he reached for the scripture on his desk. “I’ll show you what’s pretty.”
You gasped as he pulled the rosary again, forcing you forward while his other hand held the bible. “Open your mouth.”
Confused, you slowly obeyed, your eyes widening when he suddenly placed the book between your teeth.
“Hold still and bite the scripture,” he commanded sharply before spreading your legs wider.
You bit down hard on the book as he suddenly slapped your cunt.
“Mhmp!” you whimpered, eyes watering from the intensity of it.
Fr. Jeon raised a brow. He lifted his hand, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, his gaze locked on you as he slowly dragged his tongue over them. You bit down harder on the book when he used his saliva-coated fingers to slap your cunt again.
“Shh, quiet, sweetheart… there are other people outside- praying,” he said mockingly, tugging lightly on the rosary around your neck.
You bit down harder when he slapped your cunt again, pulling harshly on the rosary around your neck whenever your whimpers escaped.
“Poor baby… you want me to finger you?” he cooed, slapping your cunt once more. Your panties were already soaked, your arousal building from the relentless stimulation.
You eagerly nodded, drool spilling past your lips and onto the scripture beneath you. Your neck was beginning to ache and swell each time he tugged on the beads.
“Do you deserve it?” he asked, twirling the rosary between his fingers, playing with it slowly.
A tear slipped down your cheek when he slapped your cunt again. Your thighs tried to wriggle on the table, but he only pulled harder on the rosary in response.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m finally going to give you what you want,” he said, letting go of you.
Your eyes almost rolled back when you saw him kneel.
You drooled messily against the book when he flipped your panties aside, three of his fingers immediately slipping inside you to stretch your cunt.
“So tight, sweetheart,” he chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your clit while his fingers continued to thrust inside you.
Each time his fingers pulled back, a fresh gush of wetness spilled out, revealing just how needy and aroused you were.
Looking down, you saw how godly he looked—kneeling so close to your pussy, lips parted as he watched his fingers disappear in and out of your tight hole.
“Mhmph,” you whimpered, his fingers knuckles deep inside you, brushing against your spongy spot and leaving you wriggly and tingly.
“You’re so soaked, sweetheart. It’s so hard to rub you properly like this… so, so wet.”
When he saw how restless you were getting, he suddenly removed his fingers. You were about to frown when he stood up, your eyes widening as he began removing his chasuble and slacks.
“This is what you wanted, right?” he taunted, finally revealing his hard cock.
It was already thick and hard, twitching on its own before he even touched it. Prominent veins pulsed along the girth, and his mushroom tip looked swollen and flushed. Using his fingers, he squeezed the plump head, drawing out more precum before spreading it along the shaft. He slowly rolled the foreskin down, his gaze fixed on your helpless body.
“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he said breathily, jerking his hard cock in his hand…his eyes were heavy-lidded, lips slightly parted.
You nodded eagerly, tears spilling down your cheeks from anticipation. Your pussy pulsed hard, leaking more of your arousal down onto the table beneath you.
He chuckled, gripping both of your thighs and spreading them wider for him. “Hold your skirt up, sweetheart,” he murmured, as your long skirt kept drifting down while he positioned you.
With weak hands, you slowly bunched your skirt up. Your jaw was already aching from biting down on the book, but you were determined to be a good girl for him, biting down harder as your eyes turned red and your cheeks flushed, warm and swollen.
When he positioned his mushroom tip against your slit, you almost dropped the book. The feeling of his wet cock against your folds sent a sharp jolt through you.
“Gonna fuck you now, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
Your teeth nearly ached from how hard you bit down when he suddenly pushed inside you. Your tight walls immediately sucked him in. You watched his lips part in shock, his eyes rolling back for a moment—before he could even thrust, you felt him spilling inside you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he cursed under his breath, trembling as he suddenly came so hard inside you, his lips parting at how good your pussy felt.
You were so warm and tight that he was already convulsing. His grip on your waist tightened so hard it was almost painful. You were shocked—you hadn’t expected him to cum that quickly, but then again, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. The pent-up frustration was overwhelming, and the moment he felt you, he was already shaking.
When you saw him trembling, you slowly removed the book from your lips. Your jaw ached, but you still managed to give him a small, weak smile.
“Mhm, am I tight, Fr. Jeon?” you whispered weakly, feeling him twitch inside you, filling you with so much cum that it had you feeling completely full.
"T-Too tight." he groaned.
His arms were growing weaker, still trying to push his cum deeper and deeper into your cunt. His cock was already overstimulated and softening, but he still wanted his cum buried deep inside you, some of it already dripping down your thighs.
He groaned, pushing his cock deeper until he was finally hard again. You could feel his mushroom tip swell once more, your pussy stretching around his thickening girth.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded as he looked down at you. He had come so hard he had nearly forgotten about the book he made you bite down on, his rational thoughts slipping away completely, leaving only the heat and the feeling of you.
You bit your lip, opening your legs wider. “Yeah? Do you miss having such a warm pussy around your cock?”
His lips parted...his right hand returned to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat.
“What a dirty mouth you have,” he whispered breathily, like he was only just remembering why he was fucking you so hard in the first place.
He squeezed your throat, earning a loud whimper from you.
Before you could coo at him, he was already flipping you over, bending you against his desk. He immediately grabbed the book, shoving it forcefully into your mouth.
“You think I’m done, huh?” he taunted, kneeling down behind you.
You groaned, biting down on the scripture again, whimpering loudly when you felt him spreading your wet pussy from behind.
“Push my cum out for me,” he said, opening your folds and waiting for you to push it out.
You contracted your pussy, and a gush of his milky white cum spilled from your used hole. Before it could even drip onto the floor, his tongue was already there, scooping it up and swallowing everything until no trace was left.
When he stood up, you were left a trembling mess. Your eyes widened as he pulled on the rosary necklace, the beads wrapping around your throat like a collar. He used it as leverage before pushing his cock back inside you.
“Shh… bite down on the scripture. Let it silence your impurity,” he murmured behind you, thrusting deeper and harder until your body was nearly bouncing against the table from the force of it.
You wanted to moan so badly. The way his mushroom tip kept brushing against your g-spot felt so overwhelming. When he angled his hips in slow circular motions, your weak lips finally dropped the book, and you gasped as it hit the floor with a dull thud.
The moment he felt you slipping out of control, he stopped—only for you to immediately reach for the book. Before you could even grab it, he flipped you onto your back again.
“Fucking whore, can’t follow simple instructions while my cock’s deep inside you, huh?” he taunted, ripping the buttons of your dress just enough to expose your breasts.
“I-I’m sorry, I—”
You shrieked loudly when he suddenly slapped your nipples, the area turning immediately pink.
“Stay there,” he commanded.
You went still at once, your weak eyes following his movements as he reached into the bottom cabinet of his desk.
When he stood up again, he was holding a candle and a box of matches. “Hold this, sweetheart.”
He usually used those candles during scripture readings, letting the flame illuminate the pages.
You held it for him as instructed, watching as he struck a match and lit it, the small flame flickering to life before he set the match aside.
You turned slightly, glancing toward the window. There was still daylight outside—enough to see clearly. Before you could ask what he needed it for, he took the candle from your hand.
“Fr. Jeon, w-what are you—”
Your eyes widened when he tilted the candle downward, the wax threatening to drip onto your breasts. You gasped sharply when it finally landed on your nipple.
“Does it feel good?” he whispered, lowering the candle toward the other bud.
When the hot wax fell onto your other nipple, you moaned loudly, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as pain and pleasure collided.
It was hot and shocking—yet, for some reason, the sting felt addictive, almost intoxicating.
“Y-Yes, Father.” you bit your lower lip hard, watching as the candle was now directed toward your inner thighs.
He raised a brow, your nipples already covered in white wax. “Yeah? Does this get you wet?”
Before you could answer, he was already pouring hot wax onto your left inner thigh. The pain there was sharper, more intense—like the skin was far more delicate and sensitive. When you instinctively tried to close your legs, he held them open, spreading you wider as he moved the candle to drip more wax onto your right inner thigh.
“Oh, God,” you moaned loudly, the hot wax dripping dangerously close to your wet pussy.
You were already trembling. The mix of heat and pain felt overwhelming yet addictive, tears falling uncontrollably down your cheeks.
Fr. Jeon chuckled at you. “What a pretty little pain slut… I’m supposed to punish you with this, but you’re dripping like a whore.”
He grabbed your cheeks, raising the candle up toward your face. “Make a wish,” he whispered.
You looked up at him with weak eyes, your nipples and inner thighs still burning and oversensitive from the wax. With a faint, shaky smile, you told him your wish.
“Fuck me like a slut, Fr. Jeon." you said breathily.
He growled harshly, stepping back a little to admire his work on your body, how the wax was covering your skin like a sin, how your pussy was so swollen and red, yet your hole was still eagerly twitching to be used.
He tilted his head. “You want that, sweetheart?” he said sweetly, his tone contradicting what he had just done to you.
You nodded eagerly. "Please, use my body like a whore, cum inside me until I’m dripping full of your cum, abuse my tight little pussy until I’m all loose and gaping, release all your forbidden frustrations and destroy my dignity.”
Fallen.
You couldn’t count the number of times you came around his cock that night—his cock thrusting so hard and deep inside you that you could feel how stretched your pussy was.
Every time you tried to fight him, he would push your body down onto the desk, threatening to silence you with scripture whenever you tried to break free from his hold.
When you thought he was done, he would maneuver your body again, spreading your legs wide so he could fuck you hard. His cross necklace would dangle in your face with every thrust. Whenever you moaned too loudly, he would punish you by dripping hot wax onto your inner thighs.
He would always condescendingly praise you, telling you what a poor little girl you were, letting him use you for his own sick pleasure.
"God, you'd let me use you whenever I want wouldn't you? Letting me fuck this tight pussy inside the church, like a good little christian." he would whisper.
It was so lewd when he asked you to touch yourself using the hand that wore his birthstone bracelet, urging you to part your lips for him, watching how the beads would brush over your clit every time you fucked your fingers inside your used, swollen hole.
"That's right...stretch your pussy, sweetheart. I want you nice and gaping when I fuck you again."
Then he would pull your body up, forcing you to bounce on his cock while pressing the beads deeper into your throat. He held both of your cheeks with his free hand so he could continually spit into your parted mouth, watching it drip messily down your chin like a cheap filthy whore. "I love how sinful and dirty you are...so perfect for me."
Capitulated.
You never forgot him, after that night he vanished like a wind.
When you heard that he had suddenly been appointed to another city, it felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet. Overnight, he was simply gone. The weekly sunday mass was no longer presided over by him, and no matter how many people you asked, nobody seemed to have a clear answer as to why.
All you heard were rumors.
Some said he wanted to experience ministry in a different city. Others claimed he had become so busy that he was constantly traveling between churches, handling responsibilities in several places at once. Every explanation sounded vague, rehearsed, and unsatisfying.
You wanted to believe them. But you couldn't.
For months, you carried that bitterness inside you. A part of you convinced yourself that he had simply left. That perhaps everything you shared had meant far less to him than it had to you. The thought hurt more than you cared to admit, especially because, between the two of you, you had been the dishonest one. You had been the one who approached him with hidden intentions, who slowly seduced him, who carefully led him into your snare while pretending to be an innocent church girl.
Yet somewhere along the way, things had changed.
For all your lies, for all your schemes and carefully crafted devotion, you couldn't deny what had happened to your own heart. You had fallen in love with his kindness. Not because he was a priest. Not because he was forbidden. Not because winning his attention felt like a challenge.
But because it was him.
It was the way he remembered small details about you. The way he listened whenever you spoke. The way he always treated people with patience and warmth. Somewhere between the scripture lessons, the afternoon conversations, and the countless boxes of cookies, your feelings had become real.
Then, one afternoon, a letter arrived.
Your hands trembled as you opened it, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread. As your eyes moved across the page, tears immediately gathered in them.
All this time, you had believed he left because he wanted to.
The truth was far worse.
Someone had noticed. Someone had seen the way he treated you differently from everyone else—the way his gaze lingered a little too long, the way his voice softened whenever he spoke to you, the way he always seemed to make time for you no matter how busy he was. And eventually, they had discovered what happened behind the closed doors of the church office.
Tears slipped down your cheeks as you continued reading, your vision blurring with every line. For the first time since he disappeared, you finally understood why he had left.
The moment the parish discovered what had happened, he immediately apologized—to the church, to his superiors, and most of all, to the Lord. He had even offered his resignation, believing he was no longer worthy of his position.
But they refused. The parish forgave him.
They told him he was too kind, too devoted, too valuable to lose over a mistake. Instead of removing him from the priesthood, they gave him a chance to start over in a different city, far away from the rumors and whispers. They told him that what happened was a test of faith. A temptation. That God would always be stronger in his heart than any earthly attachment.
You were the temptation they spoke about.
You never wrote back, you never tried contacting him again. Because if he had truly wanted you, he would have resigned. He would have walked away from the collar, from the church, from the life he had chosen long before you entered it.
He would have chosen you.
Instead, when forced to decide between you and God, he surrendered himself to God. And that answer was enough.
With a deep breath, you entered the confession booth. You wanted to confess your sins, you wanted to move on.
It had been two years, and somehow you were still holding on to him.
Whenever Sana mentioned his name, your eyes would sting with unshed tears. Whenever you heard stories about him…how successful he had become, how respected he was as a priest now…an ache would settle deep inside your chest.
You could no longer step inside a church without thinking about him.
The stained-glass windows, the scent of incense, the quiet hum of prayer before mass. Every sacred thing had become tangled with the memory of him, until devotion and desire were no longer things you could separate.
So, with a heavy heart, you finally decided to let him go.
Sitting inside the confessional that afternoon, your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you gathered the courage to speak.
A thin wooden partition stood between you, a barrier meant to separate priest from sinner, confession from judgment, devotion from temptation.
“Bless me, Father…. for I have sinned.” you said softly, behind the confession grille.
Your voice…soft and unforgettable, echoed through the small confessional booth.
The familiar scent of vanilla wrapped around him like a memory he had spent years trying to forget.
Synopsis: Just a usual night with your long term fuck buddy, there’s nothing more to it right?
Cw: Teasing, “dry humping”, fingering, penetration, self gratification, spanking, orgasm play, P-Eating.
Song & Atmosphere: your choice.
a/n: Bored, and decided to write a smutty blip, taste the mf rainbow I guess!!!
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You and Jungkook were driving in his car, on your way back to his place after some drinks at a bar.
You had been a bit tipsy now, which meant your mouth had been more slicker than usual. You had been being too blunt, a little rude, and fussing with Jungkook more than ever.
Usually Jungkook would often let you have it, shut you up in other ways rather than telling you to quit.
But today you were being more cutthroat, the reasoning being you wanted nothing more to do with Jungkook but to cut things off, your avoidant attachment style being at it’s obvious peak.
But lately Jungkook has been fed up with your actions as he’s grown to care more about you, he would usually let you have at it, but things had started to bother him more.
You wouldn’t text him back, he’d get mad.
You’d ignore his messages, he’d get mad.
You would take days to respond, he’d get mad.
Posting while still havent purposely responded to him, he’d get mad.
It was things like this that would drive him into a fit of rage now, when it never did before, all cause he had grown to want more from you.
Your self sabotaging ways were more deliberate, more hurtful, he couldn’t stand it. And because you had also grown to care more, you were only pulling away out of fear.
He had been listening to you go on and on, your words now becoming blurred as you went on insulting him, and throwing shots after shots.
“Would you shut the fuck up already,” he finally let out, tired of hearing your disrespectful words, dragging things on like always when you had a little too much to drink.
“You’re not the one who’s driving, I’m driving, so just let me do that,” he continued on to let out.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” You let out, somewhat surprised at his Choice of words as your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, your tone serious as always.
“You, you don’t talk to me for weeks and think you can just talk to me any kind of way and I’ll take it?”
“Well if you weren’t driving like a dumbass, I wouldn’t have to!!!”
Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, “WHAT THE FUCK, YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US JUST NOW!!!” You screamed as Jungkook had put the car into park on some random street.
He unbuckled your seatbelt, his demeanor was now more serious than ever. A state you never quite saw him in before, you didn’t know what to think of such.
He put your seat back, your dress rising up as he did so, “Take off your underwear and touch yourself,” Jungkook demanded.
You laughed, “You’re joking”.
His eyes bore into yours, not a single trace of ‘joking’ being on his face as he looked into your eyes. You realized he was serious now, and your body deflated at so.
“Jungkook, what if you get pulled over?” You questioned, the riskiness of it all scaring you as much as his demeanor was, the atmosphere of the car now changing.
“Just a second ago you said I was driving too slow, do what I’m telling you”.
“Look, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean t—”
“Don’t apologize just yet, do what I said,” he cut you off.
“Okay,” you whispered softly, pulling down your underwear.
You were a bit scared about the suddenness of it all, and how serious he had become, but that fear went away once you realized he had put the seat down for you to be more comfortable to do something as perverted as he demanded.
Jungkook had started the car back up now, “We still have a bit of a drive, so if you cum before we get to the house I’ll spank you”.
You let out a laugh, “Right, and I’ll just jump out of the car right now”.
He looked down at you with a straight face, your smile dropping, “You can’t be serious Kook”.
“I haven’t made a single joke since we got in the car”.
Your eyes trailed elsewhere as you nodded your head at him.
You began to trace light circles on your clit, your breathing becoming less and less soft with each trace of your fingers.
Jungkook only looked forward as he heard you do so, the sounds similar to whenever he would tease you himself, the memories of so flooding his mind
“I want you to add two fingers now,” Jungkook told you after some time.
“What?!” You lifted up slightly, his request a little too intense for the position you were in right now.
“Add two fingers”.
You threw your head back angrily, doing as you were told. Jungkook took a look over at the sight, seeing your fingers go in smoothly, you were practically dripping already, he watched intensely as they were swallowed.
Not understanding your need to talk back, but so obviously liking what was taking place in the moment.
You started off slow, trying to mimic the very motion Jungkook would whenever he’d touch you. You had now been trying to hold back moans, which would come out as whimpers, only becoming louder as you persisted.
You arched your back ever so slightly as you continued on, holding back as much as you could.
Your whimpers had been like music to Jungkook’s ears as they filled up the car, each whimper making him on edge, and each squelch of your pussy wanting him to touch you himself.
“Stop holding back,” Jungkook told as the car came to a stop, the light now being red, “And go faster,” Jungkook put a hand over yours as he increased the speed of your movements, and changing it to a motion that was rather better than yours.
You let out a loud moan, his actions cause you to close your legs shut.
He still went on, “Open your legs”.
“Kook, you’ll make me cu—”.
“Don’t make me repeat myself”.
“But you know it’s going to b—”
“Should I do it myself?” He cut you off once more, you shook your head no, slowly opening your legs, you knew if he got his fingers inside you himself, you’d surely finish.
The car started moving again, and so did Jungkook’s hand, your fingers staying still as you watched him suck you off his fingers, somehow making contact with the mess you made once he removed his hand.
“Am I interrupting you?” He asked, his voice filled with condensation.
You took a deep breath before you went on with his demands, as you went on with the other ones from before.
Your soft moans made Jungkook more needy for you, it had been a while since you guys got together, and surely enough; touching himself to the thought of you wasn’t quite the same as having you.
As you quickened up your pace, your moans remained soft, nothing over the top, but less than quiet in itself. It felt good, but it wasn’t quite the way you liked it.
As if someone heard the way you were feeling, the car came to another stop.
Jungkook looked over at you, a smile softly spreading on his face he did so, “oh baby,” he chuckled a little, “Move your hand”.
A soft exhale leaving your mouth as you did so, he took ahold of your hand and put your fingers inside of his mouth. You watched him intensely as he did so, sucking at your fingers as his tongue traced them both as he let out a soft groan from the taste, sending your fingers a bit of a vibration.
The warmth of his mouth made you more turned on than you already were, the wetness, and the feeling of his tongue bringing you pleasure as he did this action.
He looked forward, and stepped on the gas, removing your fingers from his mouth and placing it to the side.
Surely enough entering his own two fingers inside of you instead, causing you to jump up, a much more louder moan to leave your month, surprise and pleasure filling all throughout your body.
“KOOK!!!”
His fingers were thicker, longer, and rather much more bigger than a yours alone. They stretched you out more, and reached that spot you couldn’t quite always reach, each pump of his fingers making you wetter.
Not only could he feel you become wetter, he could hear you too. The sounds of your moans increasing furthermore, he loved the sound of it.
He added in another finger, now going faster than before, as if it helped increase the speed. Your took ahold of his arms, squeezing at it tightly as you squirmed in his seat, your juices slithering down your pussy, and on to the seats.
He had a look of focus, purposely trying to get you to that point.
That’s when he took his fingers out, and began to vigorously rub at your clit with the tip of his fingers, you arched your back in, now letting out a large squeal as you began to squirm even more.
“KOOK!!! YOU HAVE TO STO—”
“Tell me you’re sorry”.
You continued on moaning, not responding to him, watching the way he touched you, and how fast he had been going.
“PLEASE, PLEASE, YOU CAN’T!!!”
“Tell me how sorry you are”.
“PLEASE, I’M SORRY, I’M SO—” your words cut shot from the sensation that came, your eyes rolling back as you arched, twitched, and even kicked your legs in a little.
The feeling of an orgasm taking completely over, feeling the amount of cum that had been coming out, but it didn’t stop there, because Jungkook continued on.
The car continued driving, and so did he, never changing his pace as he rapidly rubbed at your clit, wishing he could stop the car and lick the cum off of you.
You felt another build up as the car came to that one familiar turn, the sound of Jungkook’s garage could be heard opening over the loud sounds of your squeals and moans.
That same feeling you got the first time happening a second time as he drove inside, closing the garage whilst removing his hand from your clit at last.
Your chest heaved up and down heavily, and you twitched ever so slightly, watching Jungkook get out of his side of the car and come to yours.
He opened the door, and pulled you up and out of the car after pulling your dress down, shutting the door behind him as he carried you in a bridal position.
You were still trying to catch your breath, the cold air had hit your legs, but you were still filled with warmth. You laid your head against Jungkook’s chest as he carried you up to his room, his touch only gentle and caring.
Your eyes were fluttering once you got to the room, your mind completely blank, Jungkook gave you a soft kiss to your forehead. You weren’t sure if he was going to give you a bath, or put in you bed to sleep. Which he did put in bed, just not in the way you were expecting.
“Take everything off, and if there’s a bra under your dress, take that off too, you understand?”
“What?”
“Don’t play coy, do what I said”.
You only nodded your head, a bit irritated now, but still obeying what was said.
“When your done, I want your stomach to be facing my lap over on that couch okay?” He pointed to the couch that was in the corner.
His room was rather modern, some decorations here and there, but not much. Most of all, it was huge. You guys had had sex all throughout this room, the couch often being for doggy, or deep-legs-over-the-head missionary. It had been a while since you’d been here, recent feelings being the reason why.
“Okay.”
He walked over to the couch and sat, watching you do as you were told for the umpteenth time.
He began to unbutton the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Do you want me to use a belt, or my hands?” He asked as he rolled up his sleeves.
You were now about to take your bra off when you turned around and rolled your eyes, “Obviously your hands you dumbass,” you spat out, your attitude had now been catching back up to you.
He raised his eyebrows at you, a look of “Oh, so you’re still going?” Written all over his face.
He now chuckled, “It was ten at first, but you just upped it to twenty”.
You did a quiet sigh, dropping your bra to the ground.
Jungkook patted his hand to his leg, “Come here now”.
You walked over to him, about to follow the instructions that were given not too long ago, “No, just sit first”.
So you sat on his lap, the wetness of your recent mess had soaked the cloth of his pants. His knee slightly giving you pleasure, the warmth of your pussy only made Jungkook more needy for you, having to hold in how he so urgently wanted to be inside of you.
“Do you understand why I have to do this?” He questioned, tracing his fingers softly upon your arm.
You nodded your head, something you had been doing quite frequently during his time of dominance. You almost wanted to laugh, but was too scared of what was to come, deep down wanting to in order to see what would happen.
“Tell me why”.
“I was being disrespectful,” you let out lowly.
“Yeah? And what else”.
“I finished before we got home”.
Jungkook’s heart fluttered at your words, “we got home”, he wanted to hear you say it again.
“What was that?”
“I came before we got home”.
He was biting back a smile at your words, wanting to hear you say it over and over again, you guys weren’t together, but knowing you as long as he has, he of course has imagined a lot of things before.
“I can’t hear you,” he said sternly.
“I ended up cumming before we got home,” you said at last, wanting to stop repeating yourself, but unable to say it.
“That’s it doll,” he assured softly.
Jungkook cupped your face, and pulled you into a gentle kiss. It started off slow, deep, and passionate, rather like whenever he was inside of you, reminders of such making you wet.
“Now come,” he whispered softly in between one more kiss, he had missed your lips ever so dearly.
You followed suite of bending over, the air hitting your exposed pussy once you were.
“You’re going to count for me okay?” He placed a gentle kiss to your backside as he rubbed circles on your ass.
You nodded your head, an immediate smack to the ass.
You had barely just nodded your head before he had did so heavily did so, causing your cheek to sting ever so slightly.
“One”.
Another hit came, this time your other check, and almost just as hard as the other hit.
“Two”.
His hit only becoming less and less gentle as they went on, somehow bringing you pain and pleasure.
“Five”.
He made sure to always rub a circle in place before hitting that exact spot, trying to soothe you before placing another hit.
“Eight”.
It had only gotten worse when he began to trick you, rubbing one cheek, but hitting the other, that’s when the tears decided to come.
“Thirteen”.
“Don’t cry doll, it’ll be over soon,” a few pecks to your backside.
With each hit you had to clench your pussy, being teary eyed yet turned on was a new feeling, you didn’t quite understand the feeling.
“Seventeen”.
The last one stung the most, each hit almost felt like a story, or maybe words he was trying to say but couldn’t?
“Twenty”.
“That’s my girl, you did so good,” Jungkook soothes your skin, his fingers catching a feel of your new wetness.
“Huh,” you heard him, his tone puzzled. That’s when you felt yourself being spread open, the shock of it all wavering over you.
“Wait,” you pleaded, looking back, “I wasn’t trying to—”
A soft moan escaping your mouth as a singular finger of his entered inside of you. He twisted a little before moving his singular finger in circle, somehow making you let out soft moans.
If you had a dollar for the amount of times you were cut off in just today, you’d probably have twenty bucks or so, which isn’t a lot… but it’s more than it should be.
“Wow, even after all that, I certainly thought you’d be tired, but you’re a dirty little thing aren’t you,” he slightly snickered.
He removed his singular finger, “Sit up and tell me if you taste what I get to taste all the time”.
You sat up, now somewhat kneeling beside him on the couch, you look at his raised hand.
“Don’t be shy doll,” his voice now a bit husky for whatever reason.
Jungkook had never seen you in such a state, the sex you guys often had was always happening in splurges of horniness, it was never anything too intense up until today.
Of course he would hold back on going overboard, or things he didn’t think you’d be okay with doing, but today was different in many aspects, he was surprising himself.
You gently took ahold of his non-tattooed hand, gently placed his finger in your mouth, and you began to bob your head back and forth whilst swirling your tongue, looking him in his eye as you did so.
He only stared intently as you did so, a soft smile appearing on his face, “It’s cute that you’re trying to mimic something you often times never do”.
Removing his fingers, a string of saliva trailed onto his fingers as you did so. He observed it carefully before putting his own fingers in his mouth, “You always tell me not to,” you let out as he did so.
“Because I find much more pleasure in giving rather than receiving,” his focus now on your breast while saying this.
You rolled your eyes, “yeah yeah, I know, you say it all the time”.
He then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you on to his leg, you were now straddling him, and be had one leg in between yours. He moved it a little, causing you to squirm from the feeling of your bare pussy rubbing on to him.
“Wait kook, be still a little,” you told him, trying to sit up and adjust but he immediately pulled you down.
“Does that feel weird?” He questioned softly,looking into your eyes.
“Just a little yeah,” you informed.
“How about this?” He put both hands on your waist and began to gently rock you back and forth, slow and steady.
The feeling was different, not like how it was with clothes on, it actually seemed more perverted this way, to which you somehow enjoyed. The fabric of his pants rubbing against your bare clit seemed almost similar to riding a pillow, but firmer, and actually a person.
Your breathing became a bit heavier, “Feels…fine,” you understated.
“Yeah?” His voice low and hoarse, picking up his speed just a bit, “And this?” He began to now bounce his leg up and down, now obtaining a persistent speed of moving your hips in circles for you.
The feeling of your bare, wet, and warm pussy was sending him into a spiral. Your soft whimpers turning into moans as he went on with this act of his.
“C’mon, talk to me,” he began to leave trails of kisses across your chest, still maintaining his actions.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do anything more for today,” you tried suggest, your eyes fluttering as your body became more filled with pleasure. The pressure of his leg wasn’t the only thing making you feel good, you could feel the clear sensation of his rock hard dick.
“Why don’t you give it a try yeah?” He groaned lightly, very bluntly ignoring your sorry excuse of a request.
You guys had now been at an even closer proximity as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, and began to further hump his leg.
“You’re so wet,” Jungkook groaned softly into your ear, he wrapped his arms around your waist, the both of you going into a fit of moans, groans, and whimpers.
Jungkook tried to hold his in, wanting to hear all of you, and every second of you.
“I want you to be inside of me already,” you moaned out, reaching his ear clearly as you grabbed at his hair on the back of his head, as your face rested against his cheek.
“Be patient doll,” he breathed out, panting heavily as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, the both of you moaning louder into one another’s mouth as Jungkook started to help you move again.
“Fuck,” you let out harshly, spit trailing down your cheek from how sloppy it was, but you didn’t mind.
Jungkook took this opportunity to take his free hand, and use his thumb to start rubbing at your bud the most that he could as you continued on riding him.
You threw your head back, obviously coming to your high, resulting in Jungkook increasing his speed.
“WAIT!!!” You cried out, scared to make a mess on him.
“Cum as much as you want,” were the only words you could hear last before your body began to spasm, and a senseless amount of cum began to pour out.
Jungkook took the opportunity to pinch at your nipples, the sudden sensation adding to your pleasure as your body had been sent into something that was truly beyond your control.
Once you finally had came back, your chest was heaving up and down. Panting heavily from your recent climax
“That was—,” you panted, about to say more once it came to you and you caught your breath before Jungkook abruptly lifted you up by the waist. You began to look around, “Kook, wait” you breathed out as you seen he was making way to the bed.
It was something he liked to do quite often, as he was unable to in the car, his movements at the very moment felt rushed, as if he was somewhat in a hurry.
He placed you laying down on the bed, immediately dropped to his knees, and proceeded to grab you by both your thighs and inch you closer to him, closer to his mouth.
“I’M SENSITIVE RIGHT NOW WAIT!!!”
Were the words you cried out before Jungkook began to hungrily suck at your clit, and lick the remainders of your cum off of you, sometimes even inserting his tongue inside of you, just to see how your walls felt like on his tongue, to taste every inch of you.
By this point Jungkook had been hugging your legs, his arms fully wrapped together as he held them still, it was the moment you squeezed them around his head by mistake that he took the opportunity. Devouring you endlessly as you shook beneath him, your loud moans bringing him enjoyment as much as the taste of you did.
Once he lifted his head up, he unwrapped his arms from one another, the hold he had against you now loose.
Just like before, you had been panting heavily. The overstimulation of it all had left you melting, but you had also just been edged without realizing it.
Jungkook began to place kisses on you, from your thigh, your stomach, and your legs, he placed his lips all over while you caught your breath.
Something he would often do on these kinds of occasions, loving every part of you.
Once he became close near your entrance again, and completely back on his knees, that’s when he spoke, “I want you to look me in the eyes this time,” he requested.
You only nodded your head.
That’s when he began again, his eyes never leaving yours as he did so.
He started off by tracing his tongue straight down your slick folds, and then proceeded to slowly go in circles, often times sucking at your bud from time to time as he did so.
You began to get that same feeling once more before he stopped, as your moans became uncontrollable you put the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to remain eye contact still.
Jungkook only quickened the movement of his tongue as you did so, his motions deliberate and thought out.
This made you throw your head back, that eye contact that you both once held had now been broken, making Jungkook give you a rough slap to the side of your ass, you quickly looked back up at him understanding what it meant.
As your hand found its way back, Jungkook reached for your hand, motioning you to give it to him, wanting to hold it as much as he could with the position he had been in.
This action only brought you closer to your climax, as your breathing became heavier, and your moans became louder, Jungkook only worked faster.
You’d think his jaw would have locked by now by how fast he was moving, and how dedicated he had been, resisting using his fingers to overstimulate some, wanting the work to all be from his mouth and mouth itself.
Surely enough things went white, and as you struggled to hold still Jungkook held you down firmly, hugging your legs once more as he had done previously to keep you still.
You had been completely worn as he cleaned you up, happy to taste more of you than before as you had finished directly on his tongue, your soft tired whimpers being let out as he did so.
Your breathing now somewhat normal as he rose to his knees, “Don’t get tired on me just yet doll,” Jungkook announced as he began to unbuckle his pants. His face was glistening wet from your juices, it made you want to laugh just a little from the sight.
Jungkook on the other hand, had been holding things in as much as he could, just for this exact moment, you see… he was a bit of a masochist. Yes he liked to give pleasure more than receiving such, which was partially for the simple fact that it felt like torture to wait for his turn, he loved the build up of it all.
Not touching himself while he touched you, or letting himself receive much pleasure. Having you rub against him through his clothes had been torture enough, he felt as though he would explode whilst he was on his knees for you, wanting to just be inside you already.
But he always patiently waited nonetheless, just lovingly pleasing you as he tormented himself.
You quickly sat up as you seen what he had been doing, Jungkook always pleasing you made you awfully excited when it came to doing the same for him. Ultimately, you both just wanted to please each other, but Jungkook was always pretty firm when it came to you not doing much work, never wanting you to lift much of a finger, always telling you that just your consent to being there was enough for him.
“Lay back down,” he unzipped his pants.
“Shhh, I wanna see,” you beamed happily.
“Well you’re not touching, so don’t get any ideas,” Jungkook spoke sternly.
“Gosh, why are you being so serious today,” you sighed, ignoring his words.
The moment his dick flung out you reached your hand out to touch him, immediately receiving a light slap to the hand.
“What did I say?”
“You act like I’m going to full on start sucking you off, just let me touch you first at least,” you groaned.
“Why don’t you help me get inside you then hm?”
You rolled your eyes and pulled him in closer to you by his belt loop, looking up at him from the bed, “You know that’s not what I mean,” you complained, “Please,” you persisted.
It’s not like Jungkook didn’t want you to, he would have loved you to touch him, but he genuinely didn’t receive a huge pleasure from such. When you guys would have sex, it wasn’t only the feeling of being inside you that made him feel good, but the combination of your walls against him and hearing you moan from each stroke is what drove him to his edge, often times only finishing whenever he got you to.
It was a weird thing he didn’t often know how to explain but he deemed it useless receiving any forms of pleasure alone from you if you weren’t being pleasured yourself.
“You know I can’t if I’m not hearing you, pleasing you, or teasing you, it’s a no”.
“Why don’t we just do what we did last time?” You tried to convince.
“You mean when you were on top of me, and yelled after I put my thumb in your butt?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“It felt weird!!!”
“You never mind whenever we do it from the back?” Jungkook squinted his eyes in confusion.
“That’s different Kook!!!” You tried to explain to him, although it really wasn’t much different, you just never noticed too much up until that moment while you were focusing on trailing circles around his tip with your tongue.
After being embarrassed from overreacting you just decided to make something up, not wanting to discuss any of it at all.
“Lay down, and stop being fussy,” Jungkook finally said, not being up for a debate any further.
You scooted back on the bed, moving closer to the headboard now, rather than the edge. Not without a bit of an attitude that is, but you weren’t completely mad as you watched Jungkook completely undress himself. His inked body had now been fully revealed once he took off his shirt, finally dropping his pants and Calvin Kleins all at once.
You both had now been full naked, you didn’t like it too much when you were the only one, you figured that’s why you felt extra exposed at certain times despite him seeing everything already.
You weren’t new to the length Jungkook had on him, but each time you seen it you still had feelings of surprise.
“What movie do you want to watch after this?” Jungkook suddenly asked.
“Really Kook? We’re already discussing aftercare treatments?” You raised your hands in confusion.
He shrugged with a smile.
Crossing your arms and looking away, “Chronicle,” you simply stated.
“That’s my girl,” Jungkook chuckled a bit, now inching near you.
He started off by kissing the top of your foot, inching to your ankle, up to your calves, then your knee, and so forth.
Whenever you thought back to your feelings, you always think of moments like this, how he always took his time, never in a rush or a hurry, and how he always seemed like he loved every part of you.
Always sad when you convinced yourself otherwise.
Your breath hitched once his lips reached your inner thigh, which he took note of, smiling ever so slightly after the fact.
Once he got to your hips, then your stomach, his kisses became more longing, and he seemed as if he was desperate for you, and without you knowing it, he was.
He then took you by your thighs, and gently pulled you to be laying down, instead of sitting up. He then continued on to press a kiss in between your breasts, your collarbone and shoulders, then up to your chin and jawline, and finally your lips.
He was rather gentle as before, he usually was, and it always felt refreshing when he would be one way but somehow kiss you as if he’s trying his hardest not to hurt you.
Relaxing into him more, you wrapped both your arms around him, pulling him in closer to you as you both proceeded to dance with your tongues.
Soft groans echoing from the both of you as you did this, it was beautifully intimate. His chest pressed against yours, you felt as if you could feel his heart beating against yours, and that they were both in sync.
Jungkook gently took ahold of your right breast, and began to gently massage them with one hand, twisting and pulling at your nipple gently, successfully hearing you moan into his mouth like he wanted.
Pulling away to catch his breath he smiled at you, his eyes searched yours as he did so. You gave him a smile back in return, right before he went down to teasing your nipples and softly playing with your boobs, feeling as if he hadn’t given them enough love, mentally telling them sorry as he began to kiss and such. Your heavy breathing signaling he had been forgiven during this imaginary conversation, giving them a kiss goodbye before shifting his focus.
Jungkook rose up, and finally had his attention back down at your opening again. You watched him intently with your legs raised up slightly, but widely opened for him.
He took his dick and gave your pussy a few light slaps, watching you tense up a bit with each slap.
“Don’t tease me,” you whined.
He smiled and looked up at you, “Be patient,” looking back down at the other part of you.
You had still been wetter than ever, if not more. He began to slide his dick in between your folds, when you started to let out your usual soft whimpers that typically built up to loud moans, he began to groan a bit.
The feeling of you and hearing you bringing him satisfaction, he continued this motion for a bit of time, not wanting to rush into things, and savor them.
You being impatient, suddenly sat up a bit and grabbed his member.
“Wait, you have to be pat—,”
“FUCK,” Jungkook moaned out as you moaned along with him, the feeling of him being inside you sending you both waves of chill.
“Ngh,” he groaned as you pushed him in deeper with his legs.
His eyes reached yours with a pleasurable look, “It’s my first time being able to interrupt you now,” you smiled a little, feeling somewhat awarded to do what he’d been doing all day finally to him, which was interrupting you.
“Still disrespectful as ever I see,” Jungkook’s face dropped, making you send a look of confusion.
That’s when it happened, a deep hard thrust.
“WAIT!!!” You moaned out loudly.
Thrust.
“Now I should wait after you’ve been doing whatever you want and keeping at it?”
Another thrust.
Despite him sliding into you so easily, Jungkook had been stretching you out with each deep long thrust. Moving his hips in a circle once he had been fully inside you, causing you to arch your back in from the pleasure.
“Now you have no words?”
Thrust.
He started things off slow as always, building you up, just so he could ruin you down. Each thrust felt better than before, you could feel him twitching inside you, happy that he was enjoying the feeling of you, and why would he not?
You were swallowing him whole, and had been clenching at him with each thrust, this combined with your brutal moans from his brutal thrusts made him want to cum inside you then and there.
“Tell me you’re sorry”.
Thrust.
You choked on a moan, desperate to find your ways as your eyes were being rolled back, “I’m, I’m sorry,” you moaned out.
Thrust.
“You’re what?” He demanded something more pathetic of you.
“I’m sor—,” his deep thrusts became faster now, “rrr,” a pattern with each one to say the least, “rrry,” you finally finished saying such, moaning it out completely.
Jungkook was furrowing his eyebrows, biting at his lip to stop the groans he had from pouring out, seeing you in such a state had caused him to feel immense pleasure as he felt you twitch around him.
His dick about to explode in any minute now.
Jungkook leaned down, and began to kiss you, it was remarkably sloppy, you both moaned in one another’s mouth as he continued on thrusting inside of you.
Your tightly wrapped your legs and arms around him, this made Jungkook let out a loud moan, pulling away from the kiss from how intense the feeling was.
“I missed you,” he whispered, not just saying it from being knee deep inside you, but because he meant it.
“I missed you,” he replied, reciprocating that same feeling.
As you both reached your high, you shared a deeper intimate kiss, hugging him tighter as you did so. As you finished before him, your head thrown back while your eyes rolled, Jungkook hit a few more deep slow strokes before doing the same, going back to that same slow rhythm.
You both laid there panting heavily after finishing, sharing a soft laugh together as you both tried to catch your breath.
“I’ll start the shower, then we can start the movie?” He asked you softly before placing popcorn kisses all over your face.
You laughed out of breath, “yes”.
a/n: okay guys, let me know if this shit is buns or not, after my three hour work went left I had to rewrite a lot, and it all had to come back to me for most of the beginning so it’s probably lacking a lot in the beginning.
Shit took me days to write, after rewriting the entire beginning again. It felt like the worse thing ever, and my computer is gone rn, so I won’t be writing for a while, wrote ts on my phone and I feel like I could be hit by lightening by now. I don’t even wanna add ts to the master list cause it’ll just be SOOOO MUCH WORK ON MOBILE. GAHHHHH. I’ll do it in the morning or something.
Hope you guys enjoyed, first time writing smut on here, and for any girl on guy in a while so idk if it’s all that good. JUST LMK GUYS PLEASE, I ACTUALLY NEED TO KNOW IF THE CLIHS WAS BLISS DURING THIS FAWK (im joking). Anyways, bye bye now :)))).
i'm working on a pretty spicy smut rn (yes, another jk smut I'M SORRY HAHAH) but i have a pretty big exam on the 7th, so i'll probably be able to finish it after my exam at night.
BUT OH MY GOD, i also wanna thank everyone for reading my previous two works 🥺 i really wasn't expecting my fics to get that much attention, im really grateful. i really hope you liked it ^^ i can't wait to write more for everyone <33
if you'd liked to be tagged, just let me know and i'll make sure to tag you ^^
⛓️summary: After hooking up with the hot nerdy boy in your coding class over the weekend, you’ll use any excuse to keep his hands on your body all week long.
⛓️word count: 3k
⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, mention of getting wasted at parties, one instance of slut-shaming, oc makes an ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol, no explicit smut in this drabble
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: this takes place a few days after p&p jjk & oc start talking to give us a glimpse of what their new dynamic is like in & out of class✨ btw despite what oc says about earl grey, i personally love it;;
After a weekend of sex, coding, kitten shenanigans, and more sex, you wake up to a beautiful boy with equally beautiful tattoos nagging you to “get the fuck up” for the “hundredth time” because “class starts in twenty minutes” and “attendance is worth 25% of your grade.” It somehow slipped your mind that it’s already Monday. Can he really blame you after fucking you silly several hours ago?
You tug at the collar of his hoodie and pull him on top of you. Still very much naked beneath the sheets, you suggest, “Or we can just skip class and extend our weekend? I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”
“Nice try, but no.” Jungkook offers you a hand and pulls you into an upright sitting position. The sheets slide down your chest, and you catch the boy staring a little too long.
“And you expect me to walk into class without a bra?” It’s not your fault you rushed over to his place last night in nothing but a baby tee and leggings. Why bother throwing on a bra when you know it’s gonna be torn off your body the second you step into his room?
“I mean, I’m not against it.” His eyes are still locked onto your chest. At least he’s a guy who appreciates art when he sees it. When he’s finally done, he digs through his closet and throws one of his grey hoodies into your arms. “But this will keep you warmer.”
You sniff the hoodie. It’s clean but still has the very scent you’ve familiarized yourself with a lot this weekend—blossoms and bergamot. It smells delicious.
With a sigh, you hop out of the bed and collect your pieces of clothing from every corner of the room. Your thong somehow wound up slung over his computer screen, but better there than on the floor.
Once you’re dressed in your day-old clothes, you slip into the boy’s hoodie and drown in his scent. The warmth that engulfs you makes you want to adopt his comfy casual style. At least on school days. Maybe you wouldn’t dread going to class so much if you could just sit there and be all cozy like that.
You’d still prefer to stay home and fuck him, though.
“You know what, I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden,” you lie. “Maybe you should stay home too so we don’t spread any germs to our beloved classmates.”
“Maybe you should just go to class like a good girl, and maybe you’ll be rewarded afterward,” he throws back at you. The way you perk up is almost embarrassing. But you’ve definitely got a thing for being praised and rewarded for good behavior. Especially if the prize is something pleasurable. So yeah, you suppose you’ll endure class for a few hours so that you can have some more fun later on.
“Fine.” You wrap your pinky around his to solidify the deal. He gives you a look but doesn’t pull his finger away. “But just know that you’re a nerd for never skipping class.”
“And how do you know I never skip class?” He raises his brow with intrigue.
“We’ve been in at least three or four other comp sci classes together, and I’ve never seen you miss a day.”
“Oh, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me all this time?” He’s totally calling you out. But he isn’t wrong. As quiet as Jungkook is in class, it’s hard not to notice someone who’s so incredibly smart. Doesn’t hurt that you’ve always thought he was kinda cute too.
“I guess you could say that,” you admit. What you won’t admit, however, is the fact that you’d wanted to talk to him back then but didn’t know how to initiate a conversation. You might be considered popular, but you sure as hell don’t know how to talk to people unless they strike up the conversation first. And Jeon Jungkook clearly didn’t have any intentions of being the initiator.
Thank god for that partner project that started it all.
Just before the two of you can get out the door, a tiny mew stops you in your tracks. The kitten looks up at Jungkook and cries again.
“You have to stay home, little one,” he says, holding a hand up for her to sit and stay. Like the naughty demon child she is, she ignores everything he says and climbs up his leg and into his arms. You can hear her purring as soon as she rests her chin on her dad’s shoulder like an actual baby. It’s so tempting to take a million pictures of the glorious cat dad moment and set one as your phone wallpaper, but you’d definitely run out of storage. Good to know you have some form of restraint when it comes to your infatuation.
After ten heartwarming seconds, he sets the kitten down in her pink bed and gives her a new tiger toy that was special ordered from some fancy cat shop on the other side of the country.
“Stay,” he tells her again before rising out of his squat. When she does as she’s told, he adds, “Good kitten.”
Oh, how you wish he was saying that to you right now.
“Your daddy really spoils you, you know that?” you giggle, waving bye to the kitty. A second later, you’re overcome by the urge to latch around Jungkook’s arm as you both head to his car. “When are you going to spoil me like that?”
He doesn’t give you a specific answer, but you’ll gladly accept the way he shrugs with the faintest hint of a smile. The two of you haven’t been talking all that long, and yet, he seems to be tolerating your antics well. At the very least, he must like you a tiny bit.
On the car ride over, you feel like you’re forgetting something. And then the boy’s stomach rumbles. Neither of you has eaten anything since the impromptu fast food run last night.
“Ooh, we should stop by the cute little bakery near campus before class,” you suggest, totally not trying to avoid class for the thousandth time today. “I heard they have really good muffins.”
“We’re gonna be late if we make any detours.” He catches a glimpse of your pout as he makes a right turn. “We can go after.”
Your pout quickly becomes a smile because he keeps sweetening the deal. You’re very much looking forward to the promised pastries and sex after class along with anything else he might throw in.
When you get to class, the usual gal crowd is hanging around your desk. Except someone else is there sitting in your seat. It’s Big Tim. Great. You love confrontation first thing in the morning.
Before approaching the seat thief, you watch him throw a cocky ass smile at Jungkook who straight up ignores it as he takes his seat next door. You would’ve appreciated a little help, but there’s nothing from Big Tim you can’t handle. Besides, the two of you agreed to keep the whole hookup thing lowkey and out of the mouths of your gossiping classmates. Otherwise Jungkook would probably end up hearing a wacky rumor-fied version of it from his tattoo artist.
“Hi?” you say to the guy in your seat. You’ll play nice for now.
“Oh hi Y/N, we were just talking about you.” Big Tim gives you a much kinder smile than the one he threw at Jungkook—a byproduct of being popular, you suppose.
“About what?” You’re genuinely confused.
“There’s a party at my place this weekend, and I’m hoping you’ll be there.” This is the first time he’s personally invited you anywhere. Is it a coincidence that he’s doing it in front of an audience?
“Thanks for the invite, but I’m all partied out for a while,” you respond as honestly and gracefully as possible. You have no interest in hanging out with Big Tim, but parties aren’t completely off the table forever. It might be fun to bring Jungkook to one eventually, even though he claims he’s uninterested in getting wasted with people he couldn’t care less about. “Can I have my seat back now?”
Big Tim laughs it off like you weren’t being serious. “Aww, don’t be like that. It’s just gonna be a small thing with you, me, and a few others. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
You and him? You almost gag. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. And what’s up with him dismissing your gentle rejection? If he didn’t want to be rejected in front of everyone, he shouldn’t have hyped it up in the first place. Now it just feels like he’s pressuring you into going along with it because he knows you’re too soft to make him look bad in front of others. Unfortunately for him, that’s not going to happen.
“I’m seeing someone—a single father, actually—and I’ve been helping him with his kid. So I don’t have time for your party.” The single father part is a bit of a stretch, but you kind of like the sound of it. He’s your local hot cat dilf after all.
The girls’ jaws all drop at the same time. Big Tim’s smile also drops a bit, but he continues to shrug it off. “Helping a dad with his kid? Anything for a good dicking, I guess.”
Okay, buddy.
You tried to stay courteous about the whole situation, and this is what you get in return. He can say whatever he wants to make himself feel better about himself, but it’s also sad to see not a single one of the other girls step in and call him out on his bullshit. You’re sick of it.
“Are you done? Can you leave now?” You look Big Tim straight in the eyes, although you’re hoping the girls take a hint to leave as well.
They don’t. Because they’re too invested in how Big Tim will respond as he opens his big mouth once more.
“She said leave,” Jungkook snaps out of nowhere. If you had to guess, he was trying to catch up on sleep after that long night with you, and now he’s cranky and mad that Big Tim can’t just shut up and take the L.
Big Tim and the girls collectively turn their heads toward the grumpy boy who cuts the conversation off with a death glare to each and every one of them. As expected, Jungkook is the only person who’d ever take your side on anything. And that’s why he’s the only one who matters to you these days.
At long last, the crowd disperses and everyone goes back to their seats. Just in time for class to begin.
As soon as class ends, you stretch your arms out, slip past all the girls who want the deets on this mysterious dilf you’re seeing, and meet back up with said dilf outside the building.
“Bakery time?” You’re smiling awfully bright despite the shitshow that went down before class. But that’s the effect Jeon Jungkook seems to have on you. You’ll take a bad day every once in a while if he’s there to make it a little better.
“Don’t bakeries usually close early?” he asks in a calm voice as if that isn’t the most devastating thing someone has said to you all day. You hadn’t thought about that.
In a panic, you pull out your phone to check the time and google the bakery’s business hours. Before you can get your answer, the boy chuckles, “It’s open. I already checked. You’re just fun to fuck with.”
You’d fight him for messing with you like that, but you’re too distracted by that chuckle. It’s a rare occurrence that you’ll treasure forever. Who knew he had such a charming laugh? And how lucky are you to be the one to hear it?
“By the way, thanks for earlier,” you say as you hop into his car. “I was about to throw hands at Tim.”
“I thought his name was Jim.” The boy looks so confused. You love it. “But yeah, you should’ve thrown hands for all that shit he said.”
“He wasn’t wrong about the good dicking though,” you hum. You can’t even remember the last time sex was this good.
“Definitely not wrong about that,” Jungkook agrees with a big fat smirk on his face.
When the two of you arrive at the bakery, you’re delighted to see that they haven’t sold out of the famous poppy seed muffins you’ve been eyeing on Yelp. You try to get Jungkook on board with the muffin agenda, but he opts for a buttery croissant—another solid pick. You’ll definitely be stealing a bite out of that flaky pastry of his.
“Which drink are you getting?” you ask, eyeing the drink menu like it’s a map of Disneyland. Everything looks so fucking good that you don’t know where to start.
“A London fog.” You have no idea what that is, but it sounds boring. “It’s earl grey,” he clarifies upon seeing the ignorance in your eyes.
“Isn’t that what old people drink?” you snicker. “You’re a nerd and a senior citizen?”
“Well what are you getting? A hot chocolate, right? Because that’s what babies drink,” he teases back. Now that you think about it, he calls you Baby an awful lot in bed. If the two of you were dating, you wonder if you could get him to call you that all the time. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
You do end up getting the hot chocolate while Jungkook gets his elderly drink. As the barista is ringing the order up at the register, a cute sign catches your attention at the other end of the counter because there’s a cat on it. You wander over to it and pick up one of the baggies with fresh baked cat treats in it. What a coincidence.
“Hey Jungkook, look. Let’s get this for Lucy, too.” Excited by your last-minute find, you scurry back to the register where the boy is already slipping his wallet back into his butt pocket. Fine, if he wants to pay for your breakfast, then you’re paying for the kitty treats.
After you pay and secure all your food, the two of you return to Jungkook’s place. The first thing you do is seek out the kitten who’s busy taking a nap on the boy’s bed instead of in her own.
She blinks at you with heavy eyelids and twitches her nose toward the bag in your hand.
“Good morning, little cutie,” you grin. “I brought you some special treats.”
Her big ears immediately shoot up as she starts pawing at the bag. She’s so fucking cute you could cry.
“You have to ask your daddy if it’s okay to eat one now.” You continue to use your baby voice before turning to the daddy in question standing behind you.
“Just one.” The stern dad voice comes out. “And make sure you break it in half. She’s small, you know.”
“Yes, daddy.” By now, the word slips so naturally off your tongue. You meant for it to be sarcastic this time, but you’re also very aware of what it does to him and his body.
He watches quietly as you break the treat into bits and hold it in your palm for the kitten to gobble up. She meows, optimistic for more special treats, but you stick to the plan and give her more pets and cuddles instead.
“Your daddy is so mean, huh. He doesn’t want you eating any more yummy treats,” you blabber into the kitten’s ear. She makes a whiny sound in agreement.
“Hey, what are you two conspiring about over there?” Jungkook frowns.
“Oh nothing.” You’re about to shoo him away but notice his lock screen flashing on in his hand. It looks like a pic of you and the kitten conspiring together. “Wait, what’s that on your phone?”
“Oh nothing,” he mocks you before changing the subject. “Drink your hot chocolate already. It’s getting cold.”
You take a sip of it as you devour the muffin. Your drink is basically cold chocolate milk at this point, but at least it still tastes amazing. The muffin slaps too.
“Taste,” you say as you offer up your half-eaten muffin to the boy. He takes a bite like a good boyfriend would—except he’s not actually your boyfriend.
“It’s good,” he shrugs as he goes back to the flaky pastry. “The croissant’s better though.”
“Let me taste.” You grab hold of the boy’s chin and taste the butter on his lips. He kisses back with long, tender motions that leave you wanting far more than just a casual makeout session. There’s no doubt in your mind that he tastes better than both the muffin and croissant combined. You pull back for just a second to say, “Hey, wasn’t I promised sex after class?”
“Do the homework first. It’s easy.” Of course Jeon Jungkook has his priorities straight, and of course you listen because you’re craving more of his praise. At least he’s a good influence on you. “And I never said sex specifically, by the way. Is that what you were thinking about in that dirty little head of yours?”
He’s 100% right. Your horny mind just believes whatever it wants to believe. Right now, it's telling you the boy wants it just as much as you do. He’s just better at hiding it.
“It was heavily implied though,” you huff as you take your laptop out and start on a boring coding exercise on his bed. “The sex better be really good!” And that’s a threat.
“When has it not been?” Jungkook shoots you an arrogant look. Good point. And apparently he’s already finished with the assignment because he shuts his computer off and turns his attention to your screen. He sits his ass right behind you, slips his hands up into the hoodie you’re wearing, and whispers into your ear, “Now hurry up and finish. I’m waiting.”
summary: your boyfriend, kook, comes home from work. tired and frustrated. later, he fucks you till you can no longer think for yourself <33 you love it when he has his way with you. most of it is just smut, lol.
pairing: reader x jungkook [ living together ]
warnings: dom kook, sub reader, spanking, oral (both receiving and giving, penetrat!on, cussing, mature language, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl ya'll), overstimmulation, jk kinda has a god complex??, calls you a slut and stuff, but also he's super nice about it, big d!ck jk LOLLL
word count: 2.1k
you saw his car pull into the driveway of your shared home. the black mercedes came to a hault and kook opened the driver's side door. he stepped out of the vehicle. you loved that he had to usually dress quite formal for work. today, he wore a navy blue button-up shirt with a black suit jacket and black slacks. the jacket was no longer on him though. he held his bag and jacket in one hand and shut the car door with force, eager to finally confront you.
you had been teasing him while he was at work. jungkook wasn't particularly against it either. he liked it, though he'd never admit it. you may have sent him a photo or two with the new lingerie set he bought you last week. you wanted to wait for a special occasion, but you were getting too impatient.
eagerly, you went to go open the door for him. it was a routine for you. whenever he'd come home from work, you'd take his stuff from him and put them to the side, and then he'd freshen up for the evening. you opened the door for the love of your life. as soon as you saw him you could feel your heart flutter a little bit. his hair was messy, some strands framing his forehead in the most drop-dead gorgeous way. the first button on his shirt was undone and his tie was loosened. oh, you could stare at him forever.
"ugh, it's so nice to see your pretty face again," he said in relief as he kissed your cheek. the butterflies were back.
you stopped gawking at the man in front of you, and he came in. he took off his shoes, and you took his bag and coat for him.
isn't he gonna talk about the pictures?
you closed the door to the closet, and soon enough, you felt a pair of hands around your waist. his touch glided across your body, snake-like. he would move his hands all over your body. you felt his warm breath near your right ear.
"you sure are really quiet for someone who was sending me nudes. that too, while i was at work?," he whispered against your neck. his voice sent vibrations down your back. your breath hitched. "what if someone else had seen those texts? did that occur to you, or were you turned on by that?"
he turned you around. his eyes were so dark but you could see the glint of the dim lighting. his eyes poured over you as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you. his hands snaked up your arms. he took you in for all of your worth. he could get high of the sight of the beautiful girl in front of him. you could feel your body tense up as he held you, even though he held you with the upmost care and softness.
he leaned in. his lips grazed your lips. but he didn't kiss you. you leaned in, desperate to get your kiss after such a long day. he chuckles, "aww, look at you. you're so cute." the cute shit he said, made you flustered. his hands held your waist and he pulled you closer. his lips attacked yours. he let out a soft moan, as your tongues moved against each other. he held your face, dominating the kiss, desperate to have that control over you. his kisses trailed from your lips to your cheek, to the side of your neck, and to your collar bone. you put your arms around his neck, holding onto, so you wouldn't fall over due to all the pleasure. he sucked and bit at the same spot. he knew you loved it when he did this. the light marks and redness it left behind. it was like him telling you, that you belonged to him, and only him. his hands trailed down, and squeezed your ass and played with the hem of your light knit sweater.
he guided you to the couch in the living room, which wasn't too far. both of you only broke the kiss to breath. he sat down on the couch along with you in his lap. he finally broke the kiss. "fuck y/n," and his hands reached down to take off your sweater, you guided his hands. as soon as that sweater was off, he started kissing your chest. "you make me crazy," he said against your chest as he took your nipple into his mouth and bit lightly. you were so sensitive. your hands found their way to his beautiful dark hair, "ahh, fuck, kook..." you moaned out. he licked and nibbled at your tits. one of his hands around your waist and the other groping and playing with your breast.
"on your knees, baby," he finally said. he helped you off his lap and onto your knees in front of him. he started undoing his belt. you couldn't help but still be shocked at his hard length. you wanted him so bad. you held and rubbed him through his pants. "i want you so bad, kook," you said lightly looking up at him with your sweet eyes. this was enough to send him over the edge.
you helped him take off his pants, and threw them next to you onto the floor. "fuck, are you in heat or something?" he said with a slight chuckle, as he ran his hand through your hair. you licked the tip of his length. the salty liquid coating your tongue. "mm, or maybe it's just you," you replied while stroking his length slowly. jungkook leaned his head back and moaned in pleasure. "ahh, shit y/n, keep going." you obliged and continued to stroke his hard length, also licking up his length. you took him in your mouth. he was so big for you, honestly. but i mean... who's complaining? as you sucked, he slowly thrusted his hips forward, trying to further abuse your little mouth. he tucked your hair behind the ear.
"come here," he held your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss. he quickly began taking off your denim shorts. you could feel the cold metal of his rings on your soft thighs. soon, you were turned on your back and he hovered above you. he played with your folds as he continued kissing you. "fuck, you're so wet, i can't wait to taste you," he said as his slender fingers played with your wet folds. he rubbed his thumb over your clit. it felt so good. you moaned in bliss. you felt like you were in heaven. kook broke the kiss. looking at your face. you looked beautiful under him, all desperate and ready to be fucked. both of your eyes filled with lust and hunger.
he trailed kisses down your stomach and reached your cunt. he inserted one of his fingers into you. "mm, kook, more..." you said, desperate for more of him. you thrusted your hips forward for more pleasure. then you felt his tongue on your slits. his lips pressed against your clit as he inserted another digit into your desperate cunt. you could hear the wet sounds as he worked on your sensitive cunt. your back arched in ecstasy. his tongue slurping like he was quenching his thirst. he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. you were close. "fuck jungkook, please, i'm-," your speech was broken because of your moans.
as soon as you said that, his tongue and fingers left your wet cunt. "ngh, why'd you stop?" you complained. you were so close but he took your climax away from you. so close.
"well, because i wanted to, baby," his smile mocked you, "you made me suffer at work today, it's only fair right?" his hand crawled up your neck and held your face firmly. "i was so frustrated, sweetheart. do you know how awkward it is to have your cock throbbing while you're in a work meeting?"
he firmly held your waist and turned you onto your stomach. he pulled you closer to his hard length. god, you wanted him inside you so bad. you whimpered from the hot sensation. he firmly pressed you down from the back of your neck. your ass raised up. smack, he slapped your ass, you're sure it left a handprint. "fuck, you're so pretty like this," he said as he trailed his hand from the naval of your neck to the bottom of your back. he took your hands into his. holding them behind your back. "aren't you gonna say thank you? what a cute little slut, huh." another slap on your ass. it stung your cheek. he rubbed your ass and waited for your reply. tears beginning to well up in your eyes.
"ah! fuck, thank you, sir!," you replied and sniffed. your eyes threatened you with tears. he scoffed and kissed the red mark on your ass. he leaned against you, his hard length gliding against your slit. you ached to have him. he groaned, "fuuuck- y/n, you're such a adorable whore, i love it." your arousal coated his dick. and he pumped himself against your opening. he finally let his length enter you. quickly, bottoming in you. "oh! my god.." he groaned as his body weight was against your back. his grip on your wrists got even tighter. it burned. he sank into your cunt. he slid almost completely out and it isn't too long before he slams back into your aching cunt. the force almost sending you forward.
"holy... god," you moaned against the couch with your face on it. your voice muffled against the throw pillow and your eyes rolling back. his dick reached your core. it felt so good. you felt full and complete. his grip loosed and he leaned down kissing your back. "that's right.. i'm your god." he bit the skin on your back, leaving even more marks on your soft skin. he continued thrusting. each thrust violated your throbbing cunt. it was getting to much for you. you were too sensitive for this right now. your hands reached for his hips trying to push to get some distance. you tried to move away.
you attempted to catch your breath, "fuck, kook, you're so-," you said laying there, but before you could finish your sentence, you felt your arms being held behind you again. he pulled you back onto his hard cock. once again thrusting into your wet pussy. your walls closing in on him. "don't you fucking dare, push me away like that." he pulled your body back against his, his hand holding onto your neck. your back and his chest touching each other. you moaned out of the pleasure and pain, at the same time. he smacked your ass again. you winced at the sudden stinging sensation.
"fuck, y/n, i'm close-" he growled into your ear. his groans and moans overpowering your senses. "please... jungkook," you whined through your moans. you were close too, again. "please, cum in me, let's cum together~," you pleaded. you wanted this so bad. you were on the pill, so it didn't matter. the warm liquid filling you up, felt so good.
"anything for you, sweetheart," his grip around your neck got tighter as he moaned against your neck. "ugh, y/n, fuck you're so hot." he exclaimed as he filled you up. as he came into you, his grip on your neck loosened and you were finally able to catch your breath.
he buried his lips and face into the nape of your neck. your back and his chest were now pressed together, with a thin slick layer of sweat between the two of you. he collapsed onto you, as a result you also fell onto the bed, under him. you both breathed heavily in unison. "mm, kook, get off me~," you whined being under his full body weight. "no~," he cooed back. he held your hand and cuddled you. he rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, "hey, y/n, i'm sorry, was i a bit too rough," he asked. he looked into your eyes with the most genuine happiness and care for you. you chuckled, and put your hand on his cheek, "no, i really liked it actually, you should do that more often, hehe," you giggled back at him. he leaned in to caress your lips with his. you pulled away. "kook...i think we should go take a shower, together." you could see the surprised but eager look at his face. his cute bunny teeth smile plastered on his face, "i think that too," he said.
~
this was my first ever oneshot, i really hope it turned out good lol. thank you for reading ya'll! x
