story summary - Are the ENHYPEN members clingy, or clung to?
pairings - ENHYPEN ot7 x reader
contains - pure fluff, enhypen ot7, clinginess, cuddling, kissing
notes - Yes I included Heeseung ENHYPEN is 7
Heeseung ▪︎ Clung to
• He loves it
• He loves when you two are laying down and you roll in next to him
• His favorite is when you're walking and you hold his arm
• You know that vid where the boys are playing basketball and he starts acting weird after getting the high five... you clinging to him got him acting like THAT
Jay ▪︎ Clung to
• He also enjoys it but not if it's hot (he is not tyrna overheat 😭)
• Places his jaw on your head
• His favorite is when you're watching a movie and your face is buried in the crook of his neck
• He also isn't a big fan of pda, don't get me wrong he'll definitely show you affection in public, but he's not gonna be all over you and won't like if you're all over him
• Hands on your waist>>>
Jake ▪︎ Clingy
• This one is obvious
• He LOVES clinging to you specifically when you sleep
• His favorite though is when you're cooking, he likes to come up behind you and hold you
• Follows you around the house
• 100% also clingy in public he doesn't gaf
• If you EVER try to pull away he's going to pout and give you sad Boba eyes :(
Sunghoon ▪︎ Clung to
• Like Heeseung in the sense that you clinging to him boosts his ego
• His favorite is when you cling to his biceps
• He also likes being flattered
• But don't be mistaken he also loves appreciating & flattering YOU
Sunoo ▪︎ Mix
• HEAR ME OUT OK
• I can totally see him letting you cuddle into him during movies and him enjoying it, but I also see him wanting to be pampered every now and then
• His favorite is when he gets home from practice and hugs you, sometimes he wraps his arms around your shoulders but sometimes his head is resting on your shoulder
• Loves playing with your hair, vise versa
Jungwon ▪︎ Clingy
• Very clingy but not as much as Jake
• Clingy in the sense that you two are attached to the hip
• His favorite is when you're in public holding hands and you start swinging them
• Holds you from behind when sleeping
• Loves cheek kisses
Niki ▪︎ Clung to
• But he doesn't love the idea of always cuddling or being together all the time
• He'll let you be clingy for a while and he'll like it, but he has his boundaries
• His favorite is when you're sitting next to each other and he can non-chalantly drape an arm over your chair
• Also loves when you need help reaching something (it makes his ego grow)
Loving Jungkook during tour season is mostly just watching him light up on stage for thousands of people, then call you afterward from a hotel room because somehow you're still his favorite part of the day.
WARNINGS ◦ gguk cat dad agenda i know you weren't expecting this ◦ bam mention ◦ jungkook is drunk and in love ◦ fluff life ◦ domestic slice of life bc this is what i live for ◦ temporary long distance ◦ lil bit boring if you ask me but anyways.
2,644 ━━━━━ drabble jeongguk x reader
۶ৎ 𝓜 , i wish i had more patience to properly develop the vibe created here in this drabble but i'm lwk too tired to even edit it. NEways enjoy our domestic gguk agenda!
━━━━━ read on ao3
You should have gone to bed almost an hour ago.
The rational part of your brain knew that.
Tomorrow was a workday. A real one. Not the kind where you answered emails from bed or spent the afternoon catching up on paperwork. Actual patients. Actual sessions. Actual responsibilities. The kind of day that required you to be awake enough to pretend you had your life together while helping other people sort through theirs.
Instead, you were curled into the far corner of Jeongguk's sectional couch wearing one of his oversized black hoodies, your laptop balanced on your thighs while you finished writing progress notes from the week. The television murmured quietly in the background, some reality show neither of you were actually paying attention to, while rain tapped softly against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Seoul.
Curled against your side was the reason you hadn't moved in nearly forty minutes.
The cat was asleep.
Completely asleep.
One paw stretched over your stomach. Tiny pink nose buried into the blanket covering your legs. Dead weight in the most inconvenient way possible.
The little traitor hadn't left your side since dinner. Which was ironic considering Jeongguk had spent the first three months after the adoption acting like the cat was personally responsible for every inconvenience in his life.
"Bam was here first."
"She's staring at me weird."
"Why is she always in my spot?"
"I don't think she likes me."
Now? Now the same man called twice a day asking for cat updates. You had received three separate requests for photos since breakfast. The latest one had arrived thirty minutes ago.
How's my daughter?
Not Bam. The cat.
Your phone buzzed, the familiar ringtone immediately pulling your attention away from the half-finished sentence on your laptop screen.
A video call from Jeongguk lit up your screen.
A smile tugged at your mouth before you could stop it. You didn't even hesitate before accepting, already knowing exactly why he was calling. He always called after shows when he could, especially on nights when the adrenaline was still running through him and sleep felt impossible.
The moment the camera connected, however, you immediately regretted answering.
"Jesus Christ."
Jeongguk's face filled the entire screen, far too close to the camera and somehow managing to look both exhausted and wildly energized at the same time. His hair was a complete mess, falling into his eyes in uneven waves. His cheeks were noticeably flushed, and there was a familiar glassiness to his gaze that told you everything you needed to know before he even opened his mouth.
He had been drinking.
A lot.
The unmistakable expression of a man who had spent the evening celebrating with six other singers and the tour staff after the final show in the city.
The noise behind him only confirmed it. You could hear shouting somewhere off-camera, followed by a burst of laughter loud enough to distort through the speaker. Someone yelled something in Korean that you couldn't quite make out, and a second later what sounded suspiciously like Taehyung attempting to sing drifted through the chaos.
It sounded terrible.
Which meant it was probably Taehyung.
"Oh, fuck you," Jeongguk replied immediately, a grin stretching across his face so wide it nearly pushed his eyes shut. Even through the screen you could tell he'd been drinking. His cheeks were flushed, his hair was a complete mess, and there was a looseness to him that only appeared when he was exhausted, happy, and at least a little bit intoxicated. "That's the first thing you say?"
"It is."
"It shouldn't be, I missed you."
"You are hammered, Gguk."
"I'm not hammered."
"You look like you just got discharged from the military again."
His laugh exploded through the speaker, loud and sudden enough that the cat sleeping against your side twitched in protest. One tiny ear flicked before settling again.
"Baby," he whined dramatically, dragging the word out. "That's so mean. I miss you." He said it once again.
For a moment neither of you said anything as you simply looked at him through the screen while he looked back at you smiling softly, there were voices overlapping and someone shouting across the room but his attention remained fixed entirely on you.
You watched his eyes drift lower, taking in the familiar sight of his living room behind you. The couch. The blanket. The corner lamp. The television playing quietly in the background. It wasn't anything special. Just home.
Then his gaze landed on the cat sleeping against your side.
Immediately, his entire face softened.
"Oh my God. Baby."
A laugh escaped your nose.
"She's sleeping." You told him.
"I know." His smile somehow widened.
The camera shifted slightly as he settled deeper into his chair, resting his cheek against one fist while staring at the screen. The expression on his face was ridiculous. Completely gone. Absolutely smitten.
With the cat.
The same cat he'd spent months pretending to dislike.
"She looks so small."
"She is small."
"Mm." Jeongguk nodded immediately, still staring at the screen with the kind of concentration people usually reserved for life-changing revelations. "So tiny. Look at her."
You angled the phone downward slightly despite the fact that he could already see her perfectly fine.
The sight made Jeongguk audibly gasp.
"Aigo."
You rolled your eyes.
"Aigooooo—"
The sound came out softer this time, stretched into a drunken coo that made absolutely no sense to anyone except him. His entire face had transformed.
The idol who had spent the evening performing in front of thousands of screaming fans was gone. In his place sat a slightly drunk twenty-something man in a hotel room making baby noises at a sleeping cat through FaceTime.
"Aigoo, uri agi."
"She's not even listening to you."
"She is."
"She's unconscious."
"No, she's hearing me."
The confidence in his voice almost made you laugh. "Aigoo, look at that face." He tilted his own head as if trying to get a better angle. "Ya. Ya. Why is she sleeping like that? She's melting."
You glanced down. Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong. At some point the cat had somehow managed to flatten herself into an impossible shape, all limbs loose and heavy against the blanket.
Jeongguk let out another distressed noise. You pressed your lips together.
The cat had somehow migrated upward during the call. At some point while the two of you had been talking, she'd abandoned your stomach entirely and stretched herself across your chest instead, her tiny body draped over you like she paid rent. One paw was tucked beneath her chin, the other dangling lazily against the front of the hoodie. Completely boneless. Completely comfortable. Completely asleep.
The movement only seemed to worsen Jeongguk's condition. His eyes widened.
"No." He suddenly said.
"What?"
"No way."
"What now?"
"Look where she is."
You looked down, then immediately regretted it. The cat was, in fact, sprawled directly across your chest. "She's comfortable." You giggled at seeing the feline's face.
"That's my spot." The words came out so fast you almost choked, a laugh escaped before you could stop it.
Across the screen, Jeongguk looked deeply offended.
"No, seriously." For several seconds he simply stared at the screen with the most betrayed expression imaginable before letting his head fall backward against the hotel headboard.
The movement exposed the column of his throat. His hair fell away from his forehead, the flush in his cheeks had deepened.
Drunk.
Definitely drunk.
His attention had drifted back to you, not the cat this time.
Actually you.
His gaze lingered for a moment before softening. "I really miss you." The teasing disappeared so naturally you almost missed it.
You smiled. "I miss you too."
"No, like..." He rubbed one hand over his face before laughing quietly at himself. "I really miss you."
You watched him shift higher against the pillows, adjusting his phone. The hotel room lighting cast everything in a warm amber glow. His shirt collar hung loose. His eyes looked heavy now.
"I miss being home." His voice had dropped lower. Softer. "I miss the couch."
"You miss your couch?"
"I miss my couch with you on it." You rolled your eyes affectionately, watching him gaze at his phone screen like he was staring into your soul.
For a moment, you simply looked at him. Really looked at him. Past the flushed cheeks and the alcohol-softened smile. Past the messy hair falling into his eyes and the ridiculous complaints about the cat stealing his spot. There was something different about him tonight. Lighter. Happier. The kind of happiness that settled deep beneath the skin and made someone glow from the inside out.
Your smile softened.
"You know..." You adjusted the blanket slightly beneath the sleeping cat, watching his attention immediately return to you. "You're doing such a good job."
Jeongguk blinked, the reaction was instant. Almost shy. "What?"
"You are." Your voice came quieter now, sincere enough that he stopped smiling for a second just to listen. "I've been watching everything."
His eyes visibly brightened. "You have?"
"Of course I have."
A small laugh escaped him. You continued before he could interrupt.
"I can tell how happy you are up there." Your gaze drifted over his face. "And I know you've missed this."
The words landed exactly where you intended them to, you watched it happen. The way his expression softened. The way his shoulders relaxed. The way something almost boyish appeared behind his eyes.
His grin slowly spread across his face. "You think so?" The question came out embarrassingly hopeful, like a little kid asking whether you'd liked the drawing they worked on all afternoon.
Your chest immediately melted. "I know so."
His eyes practically sparkled, a quiet giggle escaped him before he ducked his head for a second, suddenly unable to hide how pleased he looked.
Jeongguk rubbed the back of his neck, that shy, boyish expression lingering as he shifted against the pillows. “You really watched the videos?” he asked softly, his voice dropping with a vulnerable edge that made your heart twist. There was no bravado in it, just pure, hopeful curiosity from a man who poured every ounce of himself into his performances.
You nodded, smiling gently while adjusting the blanket over the sleeping cat. “Of course I did, Gguk. Every single one I could find. You were incredible out there."
His cheeks flushed deeper, but not just from the alcohol this time. He looked down for a moment, biting his lip as a soft, pleased laugh slipped out. The compliment seemed to melt him completely, turning your confident idol boyfriend into someone sweetly bashful.
Jeongguk rubbed at his cheek with the back of his hand, glancing back up at the screen with that shy little smile still playing on his lips. “You always know what to say to me,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, the kind of tone he only used when the rest of the world felt far away. He shifted on the hotel bed, propping the phone against a pillow so he could see both you and the cat better. “Look at her… she’s so peaceful on your chest. My two favorite girls.”
You glanced down at the sleeping cat, its tiny body rising and falling steadily against the oversized hoodie. “She’s been glued to me all night. I think she misses you too, even if she won’t admit it.” A soft chuckle escaped you as you gently stroked her back. “She keeps taking your spot, though. Like she knows you’re not here to claim it.”
He let out a quiet, fond groan, eyes softening even more as he watched the two of you. “I miss that spot. I miss your boobs."
"Freak," you murmured before he laughed out loud.
The laugh that came out of him was immediate. Loud. Completely unashamed. His head tipped back against the headboard and for a second he looked exactly his age instead of the global superstar millions of people saw on stage every night. Just Jeongguk. Drunk. Sleepy. Missing home, missing you.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched you reach down to scratch beneath the cat's chin. The little traitor immediately pushed her face into your hand without even opening her eyes. The movement made something soften visibly in his expression.
For a few moments, neither of you said much. There wasn't really anything left to say. The conversation had already drifted through a dozen different subjects, from the concert to the cat to his very serious concerns regarding the theft of his designated spot on your chest. Now the call had settled into something quieter. More comfortable.
Jeongguk rested his cheek against the pillow behind him, looking at the screen with heavy eyes. The alcohol had finally started losing the fight against exhaustion. The excitement was still there—you could see it every time he smiled—but it sat lower now, softened around the edges by a long day and an even longer night.
"You should sleep," you murmured eventually, watching him struggle through a yawn he clearly hadn't intended to let you see.
Immediately, he shook his head. The denial would've been more convincing if his eyes hadn't watered from the effort.
"You're literally falling asleep."
"'M not. I'm talking to you."
"You can talk to me tomorrow."
Jeongguk frowned at the suggestion, his gaze drifting back toward the cat before returning to your face. The expression lasted only a second before something small and fond replaced it. The kind of look that always appeared when he was tired enough to stop pretending he wasn't sentimental.
For a while, neither of you said anything. There was no need to. The television continued playing quietly somewhere behind you, the rain tapping steadily against the windows while the cat slept through the entire conversation without moving so much as a whisker. On the screen, Jeongguk simply watched. Not in the distracted way people usually watched each other during calls, multitasking and half-listening, but with a sort of quiet attentiveness that always surfaced when he was away for too long. His eyes drifted from your face to the cat, then toward the familiar living room behind you before eventually returning to you again, as if he was mentally cataloguing every detail he was missing.
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Not enough to be called a grin. Just enough to soften his features. The alcohol had taken the sharp edges off him hours ago, leaving behind something gentler. Something boyish. He looked comfortable for the first time all evening, settled into the hotel pillows with his hair falling into his eyes and his cheeks still pink from too many celebratory drinks. It struck you suddenly that this was probably the calmest moment he'd had all day.
Your gaze lingered on him for a second longer. The warm lighting of the hotel room. The rumpled sheets. The exhaustion settling deeper into his features every minute. Thousands of miles away and somehow still occupying the entire couch with his presence alone.
Slowly, almost absentmindedly, his eyes began to close.
You bit back a smile.
There was something oddly comforting about seeing him like this. Not performing. Not rehearsing. Not running between schedules. Just tired, happy and safe. The version of Jeongguk that only really existed behind closed doors, when there was nobody around expecting anything from him.
Eventually his gaze found you again, heavy-lidded and warm, and for a moment he simply looked content. The kind of contentment that came from ending a good day and finding home waiting on the other side of a phone screen. Outside, the rain continued falling. Inside, the cat slept peacefully against your chest. And somewhere between the quiet apartment in Seoul and a hotel room halfway across the world, the distance didn't feel quite so large anymore.
author's note — he just texted me saying he missed me guys #trust this is canon.
heeseung is obsessed with the idea of marking you, he loves making you straddle his lap while he takes his time kissing your neck, especially when you squirm when he sucks at the sensitive spot near your ear.
he’ll travel down your neck to your collarbone, leaving tender, soft kisses before gently sucking on the spot leaving it red and sore. to soothe the pain, he’ll flatten his tongue and lick it over.
he’ll reach your chest, teasing your aching nipple by leaving soft marks right next to it. his free hand sliding up your sides when he finally takes one nipple into his mouth.
not long after, his mouth will find its way back to your neck. leaving another reddish-purple mark at the bottom before crashing his lips onto yours, his tired tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.
you can’t help but grind at his growing hardness, your moans being muffled by his own mouth. his hand on the back of your neck pushing you impossibly closer. when he finally lets go of your mouth with a strand of saliva connecting you two, he’ll gently kiss all the fresh marks he left down your chest.
his soft fingers rub over the mark, his lips leaving one last kiss at the base of your throat before tenderly kissing your forehead, ‘good job baby’.
♡ park jongseong is the composed, untouchable idol everyone admires. but on his anonymous f1 fan account, he’s raw, dramatic, and emotionally honest for the first time. when his online rival (you) turns out to be the media student he constantly bickers with in real life, the line between his two worlds collapses — forcing him to confront that the person who knows him best might be the one he’s been pushing away.
☆ genres: idol x media student | anonymous online friendship to lovers | rivals to lovers | hidden identity | emotional vulnerability | formula 1 obsession | slow burn yearning | hurt/comfort
☆ playlist: blind - enhypen | too sweet - hozier | ferrari - the neighbourhood | 505 - arctic monkeys | polaroid love - enhypen | slow dancing in the dark - joji | apocalypse - cigarettes after sex
It was 3:12 a.m. when Red Bull threw away another potential win.
You were sprawled on your bed, phone glowing in the dark, furiously typing into your private F1 Twitter account.
yourusername_sotuff
if i see one more person defend red bull’s strategy decisions tonight i’m becoming a terrorist.
The reply came almost instantly from one of the biggest anonymous F1 accounts on the platform — @smoooothoperatorrr.
smoooothoperatorrrr
you simply don’t understand the art of calculated chaos. max was robbed again.
You snorted and immediately fired back. The argument lasted three hours — paragraphs upon paragraphs about tire management, team orders, Max Verstappen’s sheer talent being wasted by questionable strategy, and why Red Bull’s radio messages sounded like emotional manipulation. By the end, you were laughing at 6 a.m., adrenaline high from the banter.
@smoooothoperatorrr followed you afterward.
You followed back.
Neither of you knew it then, but this single interaction would unravel both your lives.
The next morning, you were on an ENHYPEN media assignment — filming behind-the-scenes content for a variety show. Jay was in the corner reviewing lyrics, looking as composed and untouchable as always.
You’d worked with him before. The dynamic was always the same: dry sarcasm from him, competitive teasing from you. He acted like nothing fazed him. You called him emotionally unavailable every chance you got.
During a break, you muttered under your breath about Red Bull’s latest strategy disaster and how Max Verstappen deserved better.
Jay’s head snapped up so fast he nearly dropped his coffee.
He stared at you.
You raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said, voice perfectly even. But his fingers tightened around the cup.
Across the room, you didn’t notice the way his pulse raced.
Because @smoooothoperatorrr had just realized the person he’d stayed up until sunrise arguing with about Max’s radio messages and tire compounds… was you.
And you had no idea the emotionally repressed idol you loved to bicker with was the same dramatic, ride-or-die Red Bull (and especially Max Verstappen) fan who wrote entire essays about “the art of calculated chaos” at 4 a.m.
The secret account had just collided with real life.
But Jay didn't plan to stop talking to you.
-----
The arguments became a habit faster than either of you expected.
@smoooothoperatorrr quickly became your most consistent online rival. Every race weekend turned into a battlefield of witty roasts, passionate defenses of strategy, and long threads analyzing driver psychology. He was dramatic, sarcastic, and strangely addictive to argue with.
smoooothoperatorrr
max was carrying the whole team again and you people still blame him for strategy. be serious.
yourusername_sotuff
maybe if red bull stopped treating him like a robot he wouldn’t have to carry so hard.
smoooothoperatorrr
bold words from someone who clearly doesn’t understand the art of suffering for the greater good.
You spent hours typing paragraphs back and forth at 4 a.m., laughing alone in your dorm while Jay — in his own dorm across campus — smiled at his phone like an idiot, heart racing every time your username appeared.
He told himself it was just fun. Just racing banter.
He was lying.
In real life, your paths crossed constantly.
As a media student assigned to various idol schedules, you ended up on several ENHYPEN shoots. Jay was always there — composed, professional, and annoyingly good at pretending he barely noticed you.
During one behind-the-scenes filming day, you were adjusting lighting when Jay walked past. He stopped, gave you that signature cool, slightly arrogant look, and said:
“Still causing chaos wherever you go?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Still pretending you’re emotionally unavailable?”
He smirked, but there was something sharper in his eyes now — like he was seeing you differently after all those late-night arguments online.
The bickering continued in person, but it felt different now. Charged. Like every sarcastic comment carried a secret layer only the two of you (unknowingly) understood.
One Thursday night, after a particularly chaotic race, your phone buzzed with a voice note from @smoooothoperatorrr.
You played it while lying in bed.
The voice was slightly distorted, but warm and passionate: “I can’t believe they did that to Max again. I’m actually losing my mind. If you’re awake… call me. I need to rant properly.”
Your heart skipped.
You called.
The voice on the other end was low, slightly raspy from staying up late. You argued for nearly an hour — about strategy, driver pressure, the emotional weight of being Max Verstappen. The conversation slowly drifted from racing into deeper territory.
“You ever feel like you’re performing all the time?” the anonymous voice asked quietly. “Like everyone expects you to be this perfect version and if you slip even once… they’ll stop caring?”
You answered honestly.
And for the first time, Jay — hiding behind the anonymous account — felt truly seen.
He stayed on the call long after the race talk ended, voice softening as he told you things he’d never told anyone.
“I don’t know why I feel safe talking to you,” he admitted near the end. “But I do.”
You fell asleep on the call with him.
The next morning, Jay woke up with his phone still warm against his ear and a stupid smile on his face.
He was falling.
Hard.
Meanwhile, in real life, the tension between you and Jay grew stranger.
During a group interview shoot, Jay kept glancing at you while you worked. When another staff member flirted lightly with you, Jay’s jaw tightened. He interrupted smoothly, voice cool but edged:
“She’s busy. Focus on the schedule.”
You shot him a confused look. He just shrugged, ears slightly pink.
Later that day, @smoooothoperatorrr sent you a message:
smoooothoperatorrrr
had a weird day. felt like someone was watching me too closely. anyway, what did you think about quali?
You didn’t know the “someone” was you.
The lines were starting to blur.
And neither of you had any idea how close you already were.
-----
The voice calls became the highlight of race weekends.
What started as post-race rants quickly evolved into something deeper. You and @smoooothoperatorrr would stay on the phone for hours — analyzing strategy, arguing about driver psychology, then drifting into conversations about life, pressure, and the strange loneliness that came with caring too much about something public.
His voice was low, slightly raspy from staying up late, and strangely comforting. He never showed his face. Never gave personal details. But he was honest in a way that felt rare.
One night after a chaotic sprint race, he called you at 2 a.m.
“I shouldn’t be this invested,” he admitted, voice tired but warm. “It’s just cars going fast in circles. But when Max fights like that and still gets screwed over… it hits different.”
You laughed softly. “You sound like you’ve been personally betrayed.”
He chuckled — a low, melodic sound that made your stomach flip. “Maybe I have. I just want him to win. He deserves it.”
He started sending you voice notes during his overseas schedules. Sleepy airport pictures (no face obviously) with captions like “this terminal feels like quali in the rain.” Photos of rainy streets captioned “this looks like spa weather.” Little updates that made you feel like you were part of his life even when he was thousands of miles away.
Meanwhile, in real life, your interactions with Jay remained… complicated.
During a filming day for ENHYPEN content, you were assigned to help with some interview segments. Jay was in his usual composed, slightly aloof mode — answering questions with perfect politeness. But when you accidentally dropped a piece of equipment, he was the first to help you pick it up.
His fingers brushed yours.
For a second, his mask slipped. His eyes met yours with an intensity that felt too familiar.
“You okay?” he asked, voice lower than usual.
You nodded, heart racing for reasons you couldn’t explain.
Later that same day, @smoooothoperaorrrr sent you a voice note: had another weird day on set. kept thinking about someone who drops things when they’re nervous. made me smile though.
You stared at the message.
The coincidences were starting to pile up.
One particularly rainy qualifying night, you were on a call with him when something shifted.
You were both ranting about a controversial penalty when he suddenly went quiet.
“You know,” he said softly, “talking to you feels like the only time I don’t have to be ‘on.’ I can just… be dramatic and emotional and you don’t judge me for it.”
Your heart clenched.
“I like when you’re dramatic,” you replied honestly. “It makes me feel less alone in caring this much about cars going in circles.”
He laughed — that warm, genuine laugh that was becoming your favorite sound.
“I think I’m getting addicted to this,” he admitted quietly. “To you.”
The line went silent for a heartbeat.
Then he quickly added, “As a racing friend. Obviously.”
But you both knew it wasn’t just about racing anymore.
-----
The Singapore Grand Prix weekend was a chaotic race — rain, crashes, controversial strategy calls. You and @smoooothoperatorrr had been on a voice call for nearly four hours, ranting, laughing, and spiraling together as the race unfolded.
At 2:47 a.m., after Max crossed the line in a dramatic P2, the adrenaline was still high.
“I can’t believe that overtake on lap 47,” you said, voice hoarse from hours of talking. “My heart is still racing.”
There was a pause on his end. Then his voice came through low and rough:
“Mine too. But not just because of the race.”
The air shifted.
You both went quiet.
Then quietly you said, “I know. I figured it out days ago.”
"Figured out what?"
You didn't answer. He knew the answer.
You both lay in silence for the next few minutes. Then Jay spoke again:
“I'm so scared you’ll hate me if you find out,” he whispered.
"Find out what?"
He didn't answer. You knew the answer.
But neither of you were ready to approach it.
-----
The weeks after that conversation that pretty much confirmed your suspicions were a strange, intoxicating mix of awkwardness and magnetic pull.
In real life, Jay was still the composed, slightly arrogant idol who traded sarcastic barbs with you during schedules. But now every interaction carried double meaning. Every dry comment felt like a continuation of your late-night voice note arguments. Every lingering glance felt like the way he’d looked at you when he was buried inside you, whispering how much he needed you.
He became clingier.
Not obviously. Jay was too controlled for that. But the signs were there.
He started showing up early to shoots just to sit near you. He’d casually steal the seat beside you during group meetings. During lunch breaks, he’d bring you coffee without being asked, fingers brushing yours a second too long when handing it over.
One afternoon during a filming break, another staff member — a friendly PD named Minho — started chatting with you about F1. He was genuinely knowledgeable and enthusiastic, leaning in as he talked about Max Verstappen's latest qualifying lap.
You laughed at something he said.
Across the room, Jay’s jaw tightened.
He walked over smoothly, sliding an arm around your shoulders in a way that looked casual to everyone else but felt possessive to you.
“Break’s almost over,” he said, voice cool but edged. His fingers pressed lightly into your shoulder. “You should rest while you can.”
Minho got the hint and excused himself politely.
The second he was gone, Jay leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
“I don’t like when other people make you laugh like that,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. “Especially when they talk about my driver.”
You turned to look at him, amused. "Jealous much?”
His ears turned pink. He didn’t deny it.
Instead, he pulled you into a quiet corner during the next break and kissed you like he’d been dying to all day — deep, hungry, one hand cupping your jaw while the other gripped your waist. When he pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes were dark.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Online and offline. Don’t forget that.”
He took a risk to say that last part.
The overlap became impossible to ignore.
During a late-night voice call, still pretending to be anonymous, Jay’s voice came through low and sleepy:
“I had a long day on set. This girl I work with… she keeps arguing with me about strategy like she knows more than I do. It’s annoying. But also kind of hot.”
You bit your lip to stop from laughing. Both of you guys knew exactly who you were.
“Sounds like she might be right,” you teased.
He groaned. “Don’t side with her. She’s infuriating.”
-----
Jealousy hit its peak during a big group schedule.
A popular motorsport influencer was visiting the set for a collaboration. He was charismatic, knowledgeable about F1, and clearly interested in you — complimenting your work, asking for your opinion on races, leaning in a little too close while showing you something on his phone.
Jay watched from across the room, expression calm but eyes sharp.
Later, in the van back to the dorms, he was unusually quiet. The second you were alone in the parking lot, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck.
“I didn’t like him talking to you,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “He doesn’t know you like I do.”
His hands slid under your shirt, possessive but needy.
“Can I have you?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Right now. Please.”
You ended up in the backseat of his car, windows fogged up, rain starting to fall outside.
Jay was intense — hands gripping your thighs, mouth marking your neck and chest as he thrust deep and desperate. He switched positions multiple times, needing to feel you in every way possible.
“You’re mine,” he gasped against your skin, voice breaking with emotion. “Only mine. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” you moaned, nails digging into his back. “Only yours, Jay.”
He came hard with a broken groan of your name, holding you so tightly it almost hurt. Afterward, he cleaned you up with gentle hands, then pulled you into his lap, refusing to let go.
“I know I’m being too much,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “But, I'm scared I’ll lose you.”
You cupped his face, kissing him softly.
“You won’t,” you promised.
He laughed — a warm, relieved sound — and held you closer.
The secret was becoming harder to keep.
But for the first time, Jay wasn’t sure he wanted to keep it anymore.
Online, @smoooothoperatorrr had become softer. More vulnerable. He sent voice notes at odd hours, voice low and raspy: had a long day. felt like everyone wanted something from me. talking to you is the only time i don’t feel like i have to perform.
You replied honestly, and the conversations grew deeper. He started sharing small pieces of himself — the pressure of being an idol, the fear of not being enough, the way he sometimes felt lonely even when surrounded by people.
You couldn't believe you were falling for the same person twice.
-----
Slowly you were both approaching the reveal. More specifically, it happened during the Japanese Grand Prix weekend.
It was a rain-delayed session. You were on a call with @smoooothoperatorrr to rant about strategy.
Then you heard it.
A familiar voice — not distorted, not hidden. "I swear their strategy's just getting worse."
Then he realized. The next thing you heard was Jay’s real voice again, clear and slightly panicked:
“Shit—.”
The call dropped.
Your heart stopped.
You stared at your phone, mind racing. The voice was unmistakable. The slight accent, the low timbre, the way he cursed under his breath.
It was him. I meant you already knew, but now you'd have to approach what the both of you were avoiding.
The next day on set, the air between you and Jay was electric.
He avoided looking at you directly, but you caught him stealing glances when he thought you weren’t watching. During a break, he cornered you in a quiet hallway, pressing you gently against the wall.
“You know, don’t you?” he whispered, voice rough.
You nodded, heart pounding.
Jay let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against yours.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he admitted. “I liked having one place where I didn’t have to be perfect. Where I could just… be dramatic and emotional and you still liked me. It was more comfortable being somewhat anonymous.”
His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.
“But it doesn't change the fact that it's you,” he continued, voice breaking slightly. “It’s always been you. The girl who argues with me about tire compounds at 4 a.m. and the girl who calls me emotionally unavailable during shoots. I fell for both versions. I just didn’t know they were the same person.”
You kissed him then — deep, emotional, full of months of hidden longing. Jay kissed you back like he was terrified this moment would disappear, hands sliding into your hair as he pressed you harder against the wall.
When you pulled back, both of you breathing heavily, Jay rested his forehead against yours again.
“I’m scared,” he whispered. “I’m scared that now I've admitted to everything, you’ll see how messy I really am and leave.”
You cupped his face, looking into his eyes.
“I already know the messy parts,” you said softly. “And I’m still here.”
Jay’s eyes shimmered. He kissed you again, slower this time, pouring every unspoken fear and every ounce of love into it.
The secret was out.
But instead of ending the story, it felt like the real, problematic beginning.
For three full days, Jay disappeared from the anonymous account.
No posts.
No voice notes.
No late-night arguments about strategy or tire compounds.
@smoooothoperatorrr went completely dark.
You panicked more than you expected to. The account had become a strange comfort — a place where you could be honest, dramatic, and emotionally open without the pressure of real-life expectations. Losing it felt like losing a friend.
Meanwhile, in real life, Jay became a ghost.
He was polite during schedules — composed, professional, the perfect idol. But he avoided your eyes. He stopped lingering after shoots. He no longer brought you coffee or stole glances when he thought you weren’t looking.
The tension was unbearable.
On the fourth night, you couldn’t take it anymore.
You showed up at the ENHYPEN dorm building after midnight, heart pounding, and texted him:
you
we need to talk. I’m outside.
Ten minutes later, Jay appeared at the side entrance, wearing a black hoodie pulled low over his eyes. He looked exhausted — dark circles, tense shoulders, the golden boy mask nowhere to be found.
He didn’t say anything. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, leading you to a quiet practice room on the lower floor.
The second the door closed, the dam broke.
“Why did you disappear?” you asked, voice shaking. “After everything we talked about… after all those nights where you told me things… after i told you i liked both versions of you... you just vanished.”
Jay ran a hand through his hair, pacing.
“Because I’m terrified,” he admitted, voice raw. “I built that account so I could be honest without consequences. So I could feel things without everyone expecting me to be perfect Park Jongseong. And then I found out the person I was falling for online… was the same girl who calls me emotionally unavailable in real life.”
He stopped pacing and looked at you, eyes glassy.
“I was scared that once you knew it was me, you’d realize the online version was the real one. The dramatic, anxious, messy one who stays up until 4 a.m. writing paragraphs about Max Verstappen. And that you’d prefer the version of me that’s easy to argue with but hard to love.”
His voice cracked.
“I didn’t want to lose you in both worlds.”
The confession hung heavy in the air.
You stepped forward and took his hands.
“I don’t want the perfect idol,” you said softly. “I want the boy who argues with me about strategy at 4 a.m. The one who sends voice notes when he’s overwhelmed. The one who notices everything but thinks no one notices him.”
Jay smiled — small, real, and full of relief.
The secret account was no longer needed.
Because the person he trusted most with his vulnerable heart was finally holding it in real life.
“I love you,” he said suddenly, the words spilling out desperate and raw. “I’ve been falling for you for months and I’m so fucking scared that now you know everything, you’ll leave.”
He stepped closer, eyes glassy and intense.
“So tell me,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Tell me if this means something to you. Because I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t destroy me every time I see you and can’t touch you like I want to.”
The confession hung heavy in the air.
You closed the distance again and kissed him.
It was messy. Desperate. Full of months of hidden tension, late-night voice notes, and unspoken feelings finally given permission to exist. Jay groaned against your mouth, hands framing your face as he kissed you like he was terrified this was the last time.
The kiss quickly turned heated. Jay backed you against the mirrored wall, hands sliding under your shirt, gripping your waist like he needed to feel you were real. Clothes were shed in a frantic blur — his hoodie, your shirt, pants pushed down just enough.
“Can I have you?” he breathed against your neck, voice wrecked. “Please. I need you right now.”
You nodded.
He lifted you against the mirror, thrusting inside you in one deep stroke. Both of you moaned loudly at the feeling. Jay fucked you hard and desperate, hips snapping with months of pent-up emotion, one hand gripping your thigh, the other braced beside your head on the glass.
“Fuck— you feel perfect,” he gasped, forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you. All of you.”
You switched later, pushing him down onto the floor and riding him slow and deep while he looked up at you with glassy, adoring eyes. His hands gripped your hips tightly, but his touch was reverent.
“I love you,” he choked out, voice breaking as pleasure built. “I love you so much it hurts. Don’t leave me. Please don’t ever leave me.”
You came together, clinging desperately as waves of pleasure crashed over you both. Jay held you tightly afterward, refusing to let go, face buried in your neck as quiet tears slipped down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry I hid,” he whispered. “I was scared the real me wouldn’t be enough.”
You kissed his temple, stroking his back gently.
Jay let out a shaky, relieved breath to your touch and held you closer.
The secret was gone and the love — raw, messy, and real — was finally free.
-----
The weeks after the confession were a beautiful, chaotic mess.
Jay no longer had the anonymous account to hide behind, so he had to learn how to be honest in real life. It wasn’t easy. The polished, emotionally guarded idol had spent years perfecting distance. Now he was trying to let someone in completely.
But he tried.
He started small.
During schedules, he’d find quiet moments to pull you aside — not for stolen kisses (though those still happened), but for real conversations. After a long filming day, he’d sit with you in the van, head on your shoulder, voice low as he admitted when he felt overwhelmed.
“I was scared today,” he whispered during one late-night drive. “The choreographer kept correcting me. I felt like I was failing everyone.”
You squeezed his hand. “You’re not failing. You’re human.”
He looked at you with soft, grateful eyes and kissed your knuckles.
The public side was trickier.
Jay became proudly possessive in a way that made fans and staff raise eyebrows. He’d casually drape an arm around your shoulders during group photos, pull you closer when other idols or staff got too friendly, and send you private texts during lives that made you blush.
One night after a concert, he found you backstage and immediately wrapped himself around you, face buried in your neck.
“Too many people touching you today,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “I don’t like sharing.”
You laughed softly and ran your fingers through his damp hair. “You’re such a menace.”
“Your menace,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.
The dates were a mix of chaotic and sweet.
Late-night drives after concerts — windows down, music loud, his hand on your thigh as he sang along dramatically just to make you laugh.
Quiet studio nights — him falling asleep on the couch while you worked, then waking up to pull you into his lap for slow, sleepy kisses that turned heated.
Coffee runs at 2 a.m. — him showing up with your favorite order, eyes tired but smile bright, sitting with you while you edited content and ranting about racing strategy like it was therapy.
The relationship wasn’t perfect.
Jay still had moments of insecurity. He’d get quiet when schedules got overwhelming. He’d overthink small things. But now he told you instead of disappearing.
One night, after a bad day, he showed up at your door with puffy eyes.
“I felt like I wasn’t enough today,” he admitted, letting you pull him inside. “The company kept saying I needed to smile more. Perform better. Be more.”
You held him tightly.
“You’re already more than enough,” you whispered. “Exactly as you are.”
He cried in your arms that night — not from sadness, but from relief.
And when the tears stopped, he made love to you slow and deep, whispering how much he loved you with every thrust, every kiss, every touch.
The anonymous account was officially retired.
Jay deleted it one quiet night, sitting beside you in bed.
“I don’t need it anymore,” he said softly, leaning his head on your shoulder. “I have you. The real version is better than any secret.”
You kissed his temple.
And in that moment, the boy who once hid behind an anonymous username finally felt free to be seen — completely, messily, beautifully — by the person who loved every part of him.
pairing: jay really loved your lipstick that it drives him insane.
warnings: kissing, flirting, making out, dom!jay, dom!reader, moaning, nipple kissing - sucking and biting, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), clit rubbing.
!it’s my first ever smut, please be nice😩
Jay notices things.
That’s the problem.
He notices everything.
The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re nervous.
The way you always steal the strawberries from his desserts.
The way your eyes disappear when you laugh too hard.
And unfortunately for him…
He notices your lipstick, too.
Today it’s a cherry red one.
Yesterday it was a soft pink one.
Last week it was a color so close to your natural lips that he spent twenty minutes trying to figure out why you looked different.
It’s ridiculous.
He’s aware of that.
But every time you smile at him across the room, he’s suddenly incapable of remembering what he was doing.
“You’re staring again.”
Your voice pulls him back to reality.
Jay blinks.
You’re standing in front of him now, arms crossed, trying -and failing- not to smile.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
A laugh escapes your lips.
And for a second…
All he can think about is how that lipstick would probably leave a mark if he kissed you.
He leans closer and places a hand on your neck with such gentleness that it sends shivers down your spine, then slowly moves it behind your head, pulling you close.
"This lipstick looks great on you, you know that?"
He confesses, looking into your eyes.
"Do you like it?"
You reply, aware of the effect it has on him.
"Mmh mmh"
He leans closer to your lips,
caressing your cheeks with both his hands.
He kisses you slowly at first,
which intensifies when you run a hand over his chest.
The gesture drives him crazy,
and, breaking away from the kiss,
he remains a few inches from your lips.
"You're so gorgeous, that’s dangerous."
"Dangerous why?"
You say with a grin and tilting your head slightly to feign innocence.
"Because I wouldn't leave you for even a second"
He says as his hands end up on your back, massaging up and down.
"You can do whatever you want."
That sentence makes him pause for a second.
Then with the most mischievous look in the world, he kisses you again.
He steps back, and he touches the edge of the couch, sitting down.
You're on top of him now, still with your lips on his.
You start kissing his neck, leaving lipstick marks, and he can't help but moan.
"Have you really become that weak for my lipstick?"
You say while leaving kisses on his soft skin.
He takes your chin with one hand, when you finally look at him, his hand slowly slides from your neck to your chest, resting it on your hip.
"Yes, because whatever you're wearing looks divine on you, you're perfect."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"You're so sweet, I almost feel guilty for thinking I could drive you crazy for a while,"
You tell him with a pout, caressing his cheek with the back of your hand.
He removes your hand from his cheek.
"Don't worry, I give you permission, make me yours."
You smile at him and in an instant you're kissing him with a hunger you've never felt before.
You break away from the kiss and move further and further down, from his neck to his chest.
In two seconds, you unbutton the shirt he was wearing, until it's completely off.
You leave a trail of hot kisses all over his chest, reaching his stomach.
You look up at him for a second and notice he was about to explode, but he made you continue.
When he sees you're looking at him, he raises his hand and grabs a lock of your hair.
"You're so sexy when you want to dominate me, and with that red lipstick..."
"And I'm just getting started"
You reply, and you return to kissing him from where you left off.
You move back with kisses until you reach his neck, sitting on his hips again.
You move closer to his face, but without kissing him, you take off your top, leaving you in your bra.
He watches your every move intently with eyes like those of a puppy desperately begging for food.
He looks at your chest and then up at your eyes, his gaze a mixture of admiration and desire.
He kisses your neck without saying anything, sucking the skin and biting just enough to make you moan.
"You smell amazing"
He says as he continues kissing your neck, moving down to your shoulder.
You don't respond immediately, you're busy enjoying the kisses he's leaving you.
And damn, he’s so good at kissing you like this, that for a second your vision blurs in pleasure.
He knows every one of your sweet spots, and when he wants to drive you a little wild, he knows just what to pull.
"Jay..."
You say, panting and tightening your hand in his hair, pulling him closer to you.
"Yes, honey?"
He says without leaving your skin.
"I want more."
He pulls away from you and, without saying anything, he lays you down on the couch.
He leans on top of you, holding onto his forearms near your shoulders.
He looks at you intensely, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen onto your forehead.
"You need me, princess?"
"Yes, please!"
You grab his neck and kiss him with an intensity that you can already feel his hardness under you.
You start laughing into the kiss.
He notices it and, without saying anything
he reaches a hand down your back and unhooks your bra, exposing your breasts. He looks at you as if he’s asking for your permission to touch you.
"Can I?"
He asks in a soft, calm voice that makes you smile.
You nod without answering.
When you give him permission, he moves closer to the middle of your breast and leaves kisses right there.
His lips are so warm, making you arch your back and gasp softly.
Then he moves closer to your right breast, first gently brushing it with his nose.
Then when he reaches your nipple, he kisses it.
Then he starts sucking it and lightly biting it.
You, surprised, let out a louder moan and jump a little because you weren't expecting it.
"Sorry, love, but they're so beautiful I can't resist"
He says without looking you in the eyes, and continues sucking your nipple.
With his other hand, he takes your other breast and plays with it.
You keep moaning, he knows how much you like it when he plays with your breasts.
So he keeps sucking both your nipples and your skin, leaving little hickeys on them.
He slowly pulls away from your breast and looks at the hickeys he's left.
"So sexy"
He then looks at you with a mischievous grin.
"You're so sexy, you know that?"
You lift your head from the pillow and sit back against the back of the couch.
"You are, look at you, covered in my kisses and lipstick marks"
You say, running a finger over his chest.
"Oh, I hadn't noticed, it feels like I've become your canvas."
You let out a laugh, rising slightly to sit on top of him.
"Now it's my turn"
You say, and he looks at you with wide eyes, but you can tell he's been waiting for nothing else.
You wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him intently.
"Shall we get straight to the point, mmh?"
You say, tilting your head to give him a single kiss on the neck.
"Go ahead, love"
He says, holding his breath for a second. You stand up and begin unbuttoning your shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear.
He looks you up and down with his mouth open.
You move closer to him and place a hand on his v-line, very close to the hem of his pants.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just want you so bad"
You unbutton his pants too, and he helps you pull them off along with his boxers.
Now you're both naked, but before doing anything, you ask him.
"We'd better get on the bed, what do you think? We'll be more comfortable that way."
He doesn't respond, just looks at you and follows you like a puppy.
You get to the bedroom, and he immediately lies down, waiting just for you to get on top of him.
You sit on top of him, between his legs and knees, looking into his eyes. You gently grab his dick and begin to move your hand up and down, leaving Jay in a sweet mess full of moaning.
Then you get on your knees and lower your head until you reach his cock.
First you lick the tip, then his length. You look at him and see how his head is leaning back while rolling his eyes in the pleasure you're causing him.
Then you put it in your mouth and suck it, making his legs tremble slightly.
"Okay, that's enough before I cum right away"
He says to you, with a broken voice.
So you get up and lie down next to him.
"Okay then, I'm all yours, Jay."
He looks at you with a mischievous half-smile and positions himself between your legs, slowly parting them.
He runs a finger between your entrance.
"You're already so wet for me."
At his touch, you moan and tilt your head back.
"And so sensitive too"
He tells you before moving his dick closer. to your entrance.
He enters your vagina slowly, as if he’s afraid of hurting you.
But then, seeing how much pleasure he's making you feel, he starts to go faster with stronger thrusts.
While he's inside you, he approaches your lips and kisses you, and you both moan into the kiss.
You pull away slightly.
"Don't stop, oh god-, it feels so good"
You say, moaning more and more.
He lets out an amused sound.
"You too, baby, you're so tight, and your pussy feels so good around my dick."
He raises a hand and places his thumb on your clit, making circular motions.
His touch makes you see stars, and you grab the sheets and squeeze them tightly, arching your back.
"Jay I think I'm about to come"
You say, intertwining your arms around his back and digging your nails into it. Making him grunts.
"I think I'm about to come too, baby."
He continues to thrust into you harder and harder.
You both come at the same time, filling the room with your moans.
He collapses on top of you, breathing quickly, trying to catch his breath.
You both are lying down there, breathing heavily, entwined together.
When he looks at you.
"Look what your lipstick did. If it always ends up like this, you should wear it more often"
He says before giving you a sweet kiss on the lips and intertwining your hands with his.
jay loves to spoil you, even if you don't want him to
pairing: jay x reader || wc: 1.2k || cw: fluff!! established relationship, kissing, use of petnames, comfort(?), very lightly suggestive || warnings: none! || a/n: all thanks to this request!! oh jay </3
you and jay have been together for almost two years now, and one thing has never changed: your inability to accept gifts without feeling massive guilt.
it’s a sunny saturday afternoon when the issue comes up again.
you’re walking through the luxury department store because jay needed new shoes for an upcoming schedule. at least, that’s what you thought. somehow you’ve ended up in the jewelry section, and jay is staring at a delicate gold necklace with a small diamond pendant that costs more than your monthly rent.
“don’t even think about it,” you say immediately, grabbing his arm.
jay turns to you with that signature raised eyebrow. “why not? it would look perfect on you.”
“because it’s too expensive,” you whisper, glancing around like someone might overhear. “jay, that’s literally insane money for a necklace. i don’t need it.”
he sighs, the same sigh he always gives when you start this. “baby.”
“no. girl, no,” you insist, tugging his sleeve. “i already feel bad when you buy me coffee. this is way too much.”
jay looks at the necklace again, then back at you. without another word, he flags down the sales associate and says calmly, “we’ll take this one. and can you wrap it nicely?”
your eyes widen. “park jongseong.”
he just smirks and pulls out his card like it’s nothing. when the associate walks away, he wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you against his chest.
“you’re cute when you’re mad at me for spoiling you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“i’m serious,” you mumble into his shirt, cheeks burning. “i don’t want you wasting money on me.”
jay pulls back slightly so he can look at you. his expression softens, but there’s still that stubborn glint in his eyes. “it’s not wasting money if it’s for you.”
later that evening, you’re both on the couch watching a movie when a notification pops up on your phone. it’s a delivery update.
“jay… why is there a package coming tomorrow from that fancy skincare brand i mentioned once?”
he doesn’t even look guilty. “because you said your skin’s been dry lately.”
you groan and hide your face in a pillow. “i was just complaining! i was going to buy the small version myself!”
“the set is better,” he says simply, pulling the pillow away so he can see your face. “and before you say anything, no, it’s not a waste. you take care of me all the time. let me take care of you too.”
you peek up at him, lips pouty. “you already do enough.”
jay leans in and kisses the pout away. “never enough.”
the biggest fight happens two weeks later.
it’s your birthday, and jay has planned an entire weekend getaway. you only found out because he accidentally left the confirmation email open on his laptop. when you confront him, you’re standing in the kitchen with your arms crossed, trying not to cry from a mix of love and guilt.
“jay, a private villa? for two nights? that’s crazy expensive. we could’ve just gone to a nice dinner or something—”
“we can still do dinner,” he says, leaning against the counter, completely unfazed. “but i want to take you away. just us. no schedules, no members, no stress.”
you feel your chest tighten. “i don’t want you spending all that money because of me. it makes me feel bad, like i’m taking advantage—”
jay walks over and cups your face gently, thumbs brushing your cheeks.
“hey. look at me.”
you meet his eyes, blinking back tears.
“you are not taking advantage of me,” he says firmly. “you never ask for anything. ever. you always tell me not to buy you things. you get embarrassed when i pay for dinner. you even tried to split the bill on our first date, remember?”
you nod, embarrassed.
“so let me do this,” he continues, voice softer. “i work hard so i can spend it on the person i love. it doesn’t feel good when you act like my money is a burden. i want to spoil you. i like spoiling you. it makes me happy.”
you bite your lip. “but… it’s too much.”
jay smiles, that gentle, patient smile that always melts you. “it’s not too much. you deserve the world, baby. and i’m lucky enough to be able to give you pieces of it.”
he pulls you into his arms and holds you tight, rubbing your back slowly.
“please let me take you on this trip,” he whispers into your hair. “let me show you off. let me wake up next to you with ocean views and order you breakfast in bed. let me do this without you feeling guilty.”
you stay quiet for a long moment, face buried in his chest. then you mumble, “you’re really annoying when you’re right.”
jay laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest. “i know. but you love me anyway.”
“unfortunately,” you tease, squeezing him tighter.
the weekend at the villa is perfect.
jay keeps catching you staring at the beautiful scenery, the huge bathtub, the massive bed, and every single time he says, “stop calculating how much it costs in your head.”
you try to argue when he orders the most expensive bottle of wine for dinner, but he just raises his hand in that sassy way (the same one he uses with the members) and says, “babygirl stop.”
you end up laughing so hard you almost choke on your pasta.
on the last night, you’re both sitting on the private terrace under string lights. jay pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your waist, one hand resting protectively over your stomach even though there’s nothing there yet.
“thank you,” you whisper, playing with the necklace he bought you that’s now resting beautifully against your collarbones. “for everything. i’m… still learning how to accept it. but i’m trying.”
jay kisses your shoulder softly. “that’s all i ask. just let me love you the way i want to. money is just money. you’re priceless.”
you turn in his lap to face him, cupping his face with both hands. “i love you so much it scares me sometimes.”
“good,” he smirks, but his eyes are warm. “because i’m never going to stop spoiling you. get used to it.”
you groan playfully but lean in to kiss him anyway — slow, sweet, full of gratitude and love. jay kisses you back like you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world.
when you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.
“happy birthday, my love.”
“best birthday ever,” you admit softly. “even if you spent way too much.”
jay chuckles and pinches your side. “there you go again.”
you laugh and hide your face in his neck. “sorry. habit.”
“it’s okay,” he murmurs, holding you closer. “we’ve got time. i’ll keep reminding you until you believe you deserve every single thing i give you.”
and as the waves crash softly in the distance, you think maybe — just maybe — you can start believing him.
because with jay, love isn’t just words.
it’s him ignoring your protests.
it’s him rolling his eyes with a fond smile when you say “don’t waste money on me.”
it’s him whispering “too bad, i’m spoiling you anyway” right before he kisses you stupid.
• synopsis ৎ You and Jungwon have been in a long-distance relationship for four months. You connect via video call every night, but this time is different.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYang jungwon x fem! reader
⠀ ⠀ ⠀CONTENTS — Explicit smut, edging, prolonged denial of orgasm, oral sex (cunnilingus), rough sex, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, creampie, vulgar and possessive language, intense desire, sexual desperation
⠀ ⠀ ⠀NOTE — I saw that you really liked the first part, I hope you like this one too. (If you have any ideas or suggestions for stories, you could help me by telling me, since I can't think of anything to write.)
Two weeks had passed since that video call.
Two weeks in which the routine remained exactly the same: good morning messages, random photos throughout the day, and the obligatory video call before bed. But something had changed. Since that night, the calls felt more intense, more desperate. It was no longer enough just to touch and come. Now they both stayed longer afterward, speaking in hushed tones, missing each other more intensely, almost as if it physically hurt.
You missed him terribly. And you knew he missed you just as much. That desperation was consuming them both.
You had finished working on your computer. You leaned back in your chair with a long sigh, feeling your back grateful for the rest. You closed your eyes for a moment, but your mind wouldn't stop. The exhaustion from work was building up in your shoulders, but there was something stronger than physical tiredness.
A desperation that went deeper.
You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together. You missed Jungwon in a way you could no longer ignore. You missed his hands, how he held you tightly yet gently. You missed his mouth tracing your neck, his warm breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. You missed his fingers inside you, moving exactly the way you liked, and most of all, you missed his husky moans as he neared his climax.
Just thinking about it sent a familiar warmth through your legs.
You glanced down at your phone. It was only 1:20 pm.
There were still hours until the video call that evening. Hours in which you would have to keep pretending you could focus on other things, when in reality you could only think about him. About his soft voice telling you what to do, about the way he looked at you through the camera, about how he bit his lip when he saw you touching yourself.
You sighed and got up from the chair, walking to the bed. You lay down on your back and stared at the ceiling. Your body felt sensitive, restless. Even the touch of the sheet against your legs bothered you.
Two weeks had passed since the last time you'd touched each other via video call, but it felt like two months. Each day was harder. "I miss you" wasn't enough anymore. You wanted to feel him. Really feel him. His hands, his weight on top of you, his mouth silencing your moans.
You looked at your phone again, as if just wishing hard enough would make his message appear. Nothing.
Only… eleven more hours to hear his voice.
You bit your lip in frustration and closed your eyes, trying not to think about how your body ached from missing him so much. But it was impossible. Your mind was already replaying his last words from that night, his husky voice whispering your name as he came.
You let out a shaky breath and squeezed your thighs together again.
"Jungwon… hurry up," you murmured to yourself, almost pleadingly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝜗ৎ
The rest of the day dragged on.
You tried to distract yourself with everything you could: you cleaned your room, made some food, answered some pending messages, and even tried watching a show. But nothing worked. Every time your mind quieted down, it returned to him. To Jungwon. To his hands. To his voice.
By 6 pm, you were already restless. You showered with lukewarm water, but even the touch of the water against your skin made you more sensitive. You put on a loose t-shirt that belonged to your boyfriend and some simple panties, without pants, because any extra fabric bothered you.
You threw yourself back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't just desire anymore. It was need. You needed to hear his voice saying dirty things to you. You needed to see him looking at you with those dark eyes as he told you how to touch yourself. You needed to come thinking about him.
You looked at the clock for the umpteenth time.
11:45 pm.
You sighed in frustration. It was only fifteen minutes until the time they usually went online. Your heart was already racing just thinking about it. You adjusted yourself in bed, leaned back against the headboard, and put your phone down, trying to calm yourself.
The minutes dragged on.
At 12:05 a.m., you couldn't take it anymore and picked up your phone. You opened your chat with Jungwon and texted him: "Can we move up the time of our call today? I miss you."
He didn't reply. At 12:20 a.m., you sent him another message: "Baby?"
Nothing. Not even a read receipt.
You started to get nervous. Jungwon was never this late. He always let you know if he was going to finish late at practice or if he had a meeting. You dialed for the video call.
One ring…
Two rings…
Three rings…
He didn't answer.
You felt a knot in your stomach. You called again.
Nothing. Ten more minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. It was almost 1 a.m. and you still hadn't heard back. Your mind started racing, imagining a thousand bad things: that he was sick, that he'd had a problem at work, that he was too tired… or worse.
You sat on the bed, hugging your knees. The excitement from a little while ago had mingled with worry. The silence in your room felt heavy.
Just as you were about to send him another message, your phone vibrated loudly.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Incoming video call - Jungwon
You answered almost without thinking. The screen lit up. Jungwon appeared, but the image was dark. There was only streetlight. He was walking. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood up and his mask pulled down.
"Hey, my love…" he said softly, almost whispering.
"Jungwon, what's up? I've been calling you! You had me worried,” you replied, your voice clearly shaken.
He chuckled softly but continued walking without saying much. The camera moved slightly with his steps. “Sorry to worry you… there was a last-minute change of plans.”
You frowned, confused. “Change of plans? Where are you?”
Jungwon raised the camera slightly. Behind him, you could see the familiar streets of your neighborhood. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the corner of your street.
He stopped right in front of your house. He looked directly at the camera with a nervous but confident smile.
“Get out… I’m outside.”
You froze, staring at the screen. For a few seconds, your brain couldn't process what you'd just heard. You blinked, confused, and looked back at the image. Jungwon was still there, standing in front of your house, his hood up, wearing that nervous smile he could barely hide.
"What…?" you whispered, your heart pounding so hard it almost hurt. "Jungwon… are you really outside?"
"Come down," he repeated more softly, almost pleadingly. "I've been traveling for over 14 hours to get here. Please don't make me wait any longer."
You didn't need to hear anything else. You threw your phone on the bed and jumped up so fast you almost felt dizzy. You ran down the stairs barefoot, your breath ragged and your legs trembling. Your heart was pounding in your throat. When you reached the front door, you opened it without hesitating. And there he was.
Jungwon looked up as soon as he saw you. For a moment, neither of you moved. You just stared at each other. Two weeks of pent-up desire, nights of touching each other through screens, of missing each other until it hurt… all of it was there, between you, heavy in the air.
“Jungwon…” your voice came out almost broken.
He didn’t say anything. He took a step forward, entered your house, and closed the door behind him with his foot. As soon as the door clicked, he grabbed your waist with both hands and pushed you against the hallway wall. It wasn’t gentle. His mouth crashed against yours desperately, almost hungrily. A moan escaped you as you felt him for real after so long. His lips were hot, demanding, and his tongue slipped in without asking permission. He kissed you as if he wanted to reclaim every lost second.
“I missed you so much…” he murmured against your lips, barely breaking the kiss. You have no idea, fuck…
His hands slid down your waist, grabbing your ass through your shirt and pulling you against his body. You could feel him hard against your stomach. Jungwon let out a low growl and kissed you again, deeper, dirtier.
You pulled away just enough to breathe and looked into his eyes. His pupils were completely dilated.
"I thought you were going to go crazy for video calls…" you whispered, your voice trembling.
Jungwon let out a dark laugh and rested his forehead against yours.
"I was close," he confessed, breathing against your mouth. "But I don't want to see you through a screen anymore. Tonight I want to feel you for real."
He slid a hand between your legs and touched you through your panties. You moaned as you felt his fingers. "You're soaking wet…" he growled against your neck, biting gently. "Is all this because of me?"
You nodded, biting your lip. Jungwon smiled against your skin and lifted you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
"I hope you're ready," he whispered huskily in your ear. "Because I plan to fuck you until you can't walk tomorrow."
Jungwon didn't wait for your answer. He climbed the stairs slowly but deliberately. His breath was heavy against your neck, and you could feel the heat of his body through your clothes. Each step he took made his erection rub against you, constantly arousing you. He kept kissing you: your mouth, your jaw, your neck. He gently bit you and then ran his tongue over the area, sending shivers down your spine. You clung tighter to his shoulders, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst.
When he entered your room, he closed the door behind him. The dim light from the lamp cast soft shadows on the walls. He gently lowered you onto the bed, his eyes searching your body with a mixture of desire and something deeper, as if he still couldn't quite believe he was actually there. He slowly removed his sweatshirt and t-shirt, revealing his toned torso. Your gaze traveled down his abdomen, following the line of his waist and the way his pants accentuated his hardness.
Jungwon climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over you, supporting his weight on his forearms. The air between you was thick, heavy. He lowered his head and kissed you. It was a deep, desperate, and needy kiss. His lips moved against yours with purpose, savoring you as if he wanted to make up for lost time.
His hands roamed over your body over your shirt: your waist, your ribs, the curve of your breasts. He removed the garment, slowly pulling the fabric up, kissing every bit of exposed skin. When you were only in your panties, he took his time looking at you. His breathing became heavier.
He lowered his head and kissed your neck, then moved down to your breasts. He kissed them with devotion, sucking and licking your nipples until they were hard and incredibly sensitive. A soft moan escaped you.
He continued down. He kissed your stomach and paused at the edge of your panties. He slowly pulled them off, sliding them down your legs as he gazed intently at you.
"I've been fantasizing about doing this for four months," he murmured huskily. "And I'm going to make sure you enjoy it so much you'll be begging me to fuck you."
He spread your legs wider with his hands, placing them on his shoulders, and gazed at your exposed pussy for a few seconds. His first lick was slow, hot, and wide, tracing your entire entrance until he reached your clit. You let out a long, trembling sigh. He repeated the movement several times, savoring you calmly, enjoying every drop of your wetness.
Little by little, he focused more on your clit, circling it with his tongue in slow but firm circles. Each time his hot, flat tongue passed over that spot, a shiver ran through your entire body.
"Jungwon…" you moaned softly, running your fingers through his hair.
He slowly inserted a finger inside you, moving it with a steady rhythm while his mouth continued working. He added a second finger and curled them upward, touching that exact spot that made you see stars. He constantly changed the rhythm: sucking softly, licking quickly, sucking harder. He didn't give you a chance to get used to it.
Your legs trembled around his head. The orgasm was building, slow but powerful. Jungwon seemed to know exactly when you were close, because every time you felt you were about to explode, he slowed down or changed his technique, prolonging the delicious torture.
"Please…" you begged, your voice trembling, tugging at his hair.
His fingers moved faster, fucking you while he sucked your clit hard. You were so close… so dangerously close…
Jungwon abruptly pulled his fingers out and moved up your body. His mouth glistened, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were completely dark. You felt his hard, hot cock brush against your wet entrance.
He settled between your legs, resting his forehead against yours. He rubbed the thick head against your swollen clit several times, sliding it between your wet lips. He looked you straight in the eyes and, in a husky voice, said,
"I can't take it anymore."
With a firm, abrupt movement, he pushed forward and entered you in one deep thrust.
A muffled moan escaped you as you felt him open you completely. Jungwon let out a low growl and began fucking you with hard, deep thrusts from the very first moment. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't slow. Every time he pulled almost all the way out, he thrust back in forcefully, hitting the very back of you with a wet, obscene sound.
He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, slamming them against the mattress. His hips slammed against yours mercilessly. He lowered his head and bit your neck, then licked the area and bit again. His thrusts were intense, but little by little they became more tortuous: he would pull out almost to the tip and then slowly plunge back in, pressing hard against your most sensitive spot.
"So tight…" he whispered against your ear.
He had you completely open beneath him. He changed positions several times: on your knees, on your side, pressed against your back. Each time, he kept you on the edge for long minutes, fucking you deep and slow, stopping just as you were about to come, forcing you to feel every inch of him while your body trembled with frustration and pleasure.
Tears were already soaking the sheets. Your pussy throbbed desperately around his cock.
Jungwon turned you onto your back again, slowly spread your legs, and settled between them. He rubbed his cock against your swollen clit before entering you again, inch by inch, until he was completely buried inside you. He stayed still for a few seconds, looking into your eyes.
And then, finally, he stopped holding back.
His thrusts became faster, stronger, and more urgent. He fucked you with all the pent-up desire, slamming his hips against yours with a brutal rhythm. One of his hands slid down to your clitoris and rubbed it with quick, precise movements.
The orgasm hit you with overwhelming intensity. Your body tensed, arching against him as you came so hard you let out a long, broken moan. Your pussy contracted violently around his cock, throbbing and gushing. The waves of pleasure kept coming.
Jungwon groaned your name and came inside you, filling you with hot jets as he continued to move slowly, prolonging both of your pleasure.
He collapsed on top of you gently, still inside, breathing heavily against your neck. He kissed your forehead, lips, and collarbone with soft, tired kisses. He held you tightly against his chest, slowly stroking your back as you both tried to catch your breath. His cock still throbbed inside you, sending little spasms of residual pleasure through your body.
Several minutes passed in silence, only the sound of their breathing filling the room. He collapsed on top of you gently, still inside you, his breath ragged against your neck. He kissed your forehead, lips, and collarbone with soft, weary kisses. He held you tightly against his chest, slowly stroking your back as you both tried to catch your breath. His cock still throbbed inside you, sending little spasms of lingering pleasure through your body.
Several minutes passed in silence, only the sound of their breathing filling the room. Jungwon gently withdrew from you and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. He kissed your hair and whispered near your ear:
"I missed you so much… you have no idea how much."
All you could do was sigh, still trembling, and run your fingers along his chest.
"Don't ever leave me again…" you murmured weakly.
Jungwon chuckled softly and pulled you closer.
"I'm not going anywhere tonight."
Not even twenty minutes had passed when you felt his cock hardening against your thigh again. He easily turned you onto your side and lifted one of your legs. Before entering you, he slowly kissed your neck and murmured against your skin:
"I want to feel you again…"
He entered you from behind, slower this time, but deep. He embraced you completely, one hand possessively squeezing your breast and the other sliding down to your still-sensitive clitoris. This second round was more intense and controlled. He fucked you with long, deep thrusts, almost pulling out only to plunge back in completely, making you feel every inch of his thickness.
His fingers moved in slow, precise circles over your clitoris, bringing you to the edge again and again. Each time your breathing quickened and your pussy began to clench tightly around him, he stopped completely, remaining still inside you, forcing you to feel him throbbing inside you as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck.
"Jungwon… please…" you begged between ragged moans, moving your hips desperately.
"Shh… not yet," he whispered against your ear, his voice husky. I want it to last longer.
He kept you like that for a long time, fucking you slowly and deeply, torturing you with that delicious denial. He slightly changed the angle and began to move a little faster, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with each thrust. His fingers sped up on your clit, but just when you felt like you were going to explode, he slowed down again.
You were trembling uncontrollably, tears of pleasure streaming down your face. Your whole body was sensitive, overstimulated, and desperate to be released.
Jungwon gently bit your shoulder and finally picked up the pace, fucking you harder while his fingers continued to move.
"Now… come for me," he growled against your skin.
The orgasm hit you even harder than the last. Your body jerked violently against his as you came with a long, broken moan, your pussy squeezing him tightly, pulsing and gushing around his cock. Jungwon followed you shortly after, coming inside you with a husky groan, filling you even more as he pressed you against his chest.
They stayed like that for a long time, connected, breathing together. Jungwon kissed the nape of your neck and your back gently, his hands roaming your sides as if he couldn't stop touching you.
The night was barely beginning, and you knew that before the sun rose he would make you his at least one more time. Because after so much time apart, no round seemed enough to quell the hunger they both felt.
Jungwon pulled you closer to his body and murmured in your ear, his voice hoarse and tired:
"Again… I can't stop."
You just sighed, trembling, letting his hands explore you again.
Summary: It is one of those days when you and Seungcheol are both working from home. Notoriously, no work gets done on days like this one.
Word count: 6.6k
Genres/warnings: smut, pwp (plot? what plot?); non-idol au, loser!nerd!perv!seungcheol, established relationship, honestly i can stop at pwp, cheol is a simp and we're not surprised; lmk if i skipped anything important
Smut warnings: Minors DNI, thicc dicc!cheol, implied size difference, dirty talk (of course), slow piv sex, unprotected (this is how we roll here; but please be safe irl), creampie, they continue being horndogs, reader takes charge, light hints of pet play; oral (f rec), face sitting, some brief hand job (m. rec), orgasm denial/control, edging, kinda ruined orgasm, cheol is down bad as always, he's sweetly pathetic, reader is on the phone with her manager when cheol fucks her (oops, don't do it irl kids); see anything i missed? please lmk
A/N: everyone say thank you, seungcheol for that live he held. it gave me the idea of writing a full scene of what i only mentioned briefly in the main fic, though the action here takes place after the main story. as always, enjoy your read and i’ll be happy to see your feedback in any form you’re comfortable with: comments, asks or reblogs. and i will see you in my next fic ᙏ̤̫
You can read it separately but I would recommend reading all of it for the full experience of this couple :)
If you see any mistakes: I try to proofread but English isn’t my first language, proceed at your own discretion.
Masterlist. | PART 1
Seungcheol is forty-seven minutes deep into this video call and he has absorbed precisely none of it. His manager's voice comes through the headset like a monotone hum. He can swear this woman's voice is designed to sandpaper the edges of his sanity. On screen, a grid of eight faces, all feigning attention, and his own small rectangle in the corner shows a man who hasn't blinked in thirty seconds because he's too busy tracking a silhouette moving past the doorway.
That's you. Just a flicker of movement—bare legs, the hem of an oversized t-shirt he knows is his, the soft grey one you stole three months ago and never gave back—and his concentration detonates. His cock twitches against his thigh, a slow, traitorous swell that has nothing to do with whatever the hell his manager is droning on about.
Seungcheol leans back in his chair, the springs groaning under his weight, and tilts his head just enough to catch a sliver of the kitchen through the gap in the doorframe. You're at the counter now, back to him, reaching to open the microwave. The t-shirt stretches, outlining the curve of your butt. Suddenly, the fabric rides up as you tiptoe to grab something from the cupboard above and the very bottom of your ass peeks out, bare and soft-looking, and he has to swallow a sound that would get him fired.
"—and moving forward, I think we need to restructure our code reviews which are taking two days on average," his manager drones, and Seungcheol wants to scream. Fuck them code reviews. He's going to lose his mind. He's going to combust in this ergonomic chair and they'll find him as nothing but a pile of ash and a half-hard dick.
His fingers drum against the armrest. He risks another glance. You're bent over now, rummaging in the fridge, and the t-shirt has ridden up so high he can see the crease where your thigh meets your ass. Seungcheol knows exactly how that crease tastes. He knows the sound you make when he presses his tongue flat against it and drags upward. He knows the way you shudder, the way your hand fists in his hair, the way you always whisper his name in a mix of a curse and a prayer.
Fuck. His cock is fully hard now, a rigid line trapped in his sweatpants and boxer briefs in a way that's becoming painful. He shifts in his seat, trying to find relief, and accidentally knocks his knee against the underside of his desk with a dull thud that makes his microphone—that he forgot to mute—spike.
"You okay there, Seungcheol?" His manager's voice cuts through, and for one horrifying second his heart stops. But he quickly realises that it's just the noise that drew her attention. Just the thud.
"Yeah, fine," he says, and his voice comes out strained, a little too tight. "Just—hit my knee on the table."
He mutes himself. Lets out a breath that shakes. Rubs his palm over his face and tries to think about spreadsheets. Deadlines. Anything except you currently being in the kitchen or the way you looked this morning when you rolled out of bed, hair a disaster, his t-shirt swallowing you, and kissed him on the forehead before padding to the bathroom. Domestic shit. Soft, sweet, married-couple shit that still makes his chest ache even now, months in, even after everything.
It's worse now. That's the thing. He thought it would level out—the insatiable, clawing need that's been devouring him since that first drunk night on the couch. He thought once the novelty wore off, once you'd had each other in every conceivable position on every conceivable surface, the fever would break and you'd settle into something manageable. Normal.
It didn't.
It got so much worse.
Last Friday, for instance. You both worked from home. By his generous estimate, you managed three hours of actual productivity between you. The rest of the day dissolved into a blur of skin and sweat and the obscene, wet sound of his cock sliding into you over and over. He bent you over your desk during what was supposed to be a fifteen-minute coffee break and didn't pull out for forty-five. You sucked him off under his desk during a monthly team call on Google Meet, his teeth sinking into his fist and leaving marks just to keep from moaning into an unmuted mic, his eyes watering with restraint of not rolling back into his skull. Seungcheol fucked you against the hallway wall on the way to the bathroom, one hand clamped over your mouth, your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails carving trenches into his shoulders through his shirt. By the end of the day you couldn't walk straight. Neither could he. You ordered pizza and ate it cross-legged on the floor of your living room, half-naked, feeding each other slices and communicating with humms and grunts because forming full thoughts and voicing them felt like mission impossible. And then he got hard again just from watching you lick grease off your thumb, and you let him lay you back on the soft carpet and fill you up again, until you were both too wrecked to move.
So yeah. It didn't level out. It metastasised.
And now it's Tuesday, and he's been on this call for almost an hour, and you are a room away, in the kitchen, heating up leftovers, and his entire body is humming with want. He can smell you from here. He swears he can—that faint, familiar scent of your body wash and underneath it, the warm scent of your skin that makes his mouth water and his brain go syrupy and stupid.
"—so if everyone could have their reports in by Thursday," his manager is saying, finally, mercifully, "that would be great. Any questions? No? Great. Thanks, everyone."
The call ends. Seungcheol doesn't even say goodbye. He yanks the headset off, tosses it onto his desk, and is out of the bedroom before his chair stops spinning.
You hear him coming. He's not particularly secretive about his arrival—the heavy, purposeful tread of a man who spends too much time at the gym and hasn't learned to move quietly in a shared apartment. But you don't turn around. You're standing at the counter, reaching for the microwave handle, when his arms wrap around you from behind and his body folds over yours like a collapsing star.
He's so big. That's the first thing you register, the same thing you register every time—the sheer, enveloping mass of him. His chest presses against your back, solid and warm through the thin fabric of your—his—t-shirt. His arms circle your waist, thick and possessive, and his face buries into the crook of your neck with a sound that can only be described as a whimper.
"You're done?" you ask, not bothering to hide the amusement in your voice.
"Finally," he mumbles against your skin. His lips move as he speaks, brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you have to suppress a shiver. "Thought she was never going to shut up. I was losing my mind."
"Yeah, I could hear her from here. That voice is something else. Like a sadistic lullaby."
Seungcheol huffs a laugh, his breath warm and damp against your throat. "It's not funny. I was suffering."
"Poor baby." You tilt your head, giving him more access without thinking, your body responding to his proximity the way it always does—on instinct, on autopilot, like your nerve endings have been rewired to recognise him as a primary need. Purely Pavlovian response. "My heart bleeds for you and your very important corporate meeting."
"Don't be mean." He pouts. You can't see his face but you know he's pouting—you can hear it in the way his voice goes soft and petulant, the way his lower lip juts out. "I missed you."
"I was literally a wall away."
"That's a wall too far."
The microwave beeps. You reach for it again, but Seungcheol's hand catches yours first. His fingers slide between yours, locking them together, and he pulls your hand back down, pressing it flat against the counter top. His other hand slips under the hem of your shirt and settles on your lower belly, palm warm and broad and possessive.
"Food can wait," he murmurs.
You open your mouth to argue, to tease him about being a needy, insufferable menace, but then his palm presses down. Just a little. Just enough to apply pressure, to make you aware of the heat pooling low in your abdomen, of the way your body responds to him on a level that has nothing to do with conscious thought. An involuntary sound escapes your throat—small, breathy, embarrassing—and you feel your pussy clench around nothing.
"That's what I thought," he says, and there's a smile in his voice now, satisfied and soft and infuriating.
His lips find the junction of your neck and shoulder. He kisses you there, slow and open-mouthed, and then his teeth graze your skin and you stop breathing for a second.
"Cheol."
"Mm?"
"You're doing that thing."
"What thing?" He does it again—a gentle scrape of teeth, followed by the wet, soothing press of his tongue—and your knees go weak.
"That thing where you—where you turn me into—" You can't finish the sentence. His lips have found a new spot, just above your collarbone, and he's sucking a bruise into existence with the kind of focused intensity he usually reserves for boss fights in Elden Ring. Your brain fills with static. Your hands grip the edge of the counter. "—into a—fuck."
"Into a what?" He pulls back just long enough to speak, his voice low and rough and dripping with false innocence. "Use your words, baby."
"I hate you."
"No you don't." Kiss. Bite. Suck. "You love it. You love when I make you all dumb and shaky. When I take my time and turn you into a little mess before I've even touched you properly." Another kiss, this one pressed to the shell of your ear. "I know you're clenching even without touching you, baby. You think I'm not aware? Oh, I am. I know your body better than I know my own at this point."
You think of saying something sharp, to cut through the haze and reassert some semblance of control. But Seungcheol is right. He does know your body. He's spent months mapping every inch of it with his hands and his mouth and his cock, learning every spot that makes you gasp, every rhythm that makes you fall apart. And right now, with his palm still pressing on your lower belly and his lips trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, the only thing your brain can produce is a stream of increasingly pathetic sounds.
You think, distantly, about the irony of it. Months ago you called him a loser to your friend. You rolled your eyes at his compression shirts and his anime figures and his inability to talk to women. And now here you are, melting into a puddle of need because he's kissing your neck and breathing on you. Your friends have noticed, of course. Because you can't exactly hide it. You walk into every brunch, every cafe meetup, wearing the unmistakable glow of a woman who's getting thoroughly, regularly, devastatingly fucked. Loud and proud as they say.
Seungcheol's fingers have trailed lower while you were lost in thought. They're resting on the waistband of your underwear now, tracing the elastic edge with a maddening lightness that makes your hips twitch.
"Mmm, bet you're so wet already," he murmurs, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the smug, reverent delight. "I haven't even done anything and you're soaking through your panties, aren't you? What am I going to do with you?"
"I don't know," you manage, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathy. "Maybe actually fuck me instead of just talking about it?"
"Impatient." He nips at your earlobe. "I like it."
His fingers dip lower, pressing against you through the damp cotton of your underwear and finding his theory to be true. The pressure is light, teasing, nowhere near enough, and you can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing again, desperate for more, desperate for anything. Behind you, pressed against the curve of your ass, his cock is a hard, insistent weight. He's been half-hard since the call started—you could guess from the way he was squirming in his chair, the way his eyes kept cutting toward the kitchen—but now he's fully erect, thick and hot even through the layers of his sweatpants and your t-shirt that barely covers your ass anymore. He rocks against you, a slow, deliberate grind, and the friction makes you both groan.
"Thought about this the whole call," he says, his voice dropping into that lower register that makes your stomach flip. "Thought about bending you over this counter. Thought about pulling these little panties to the side and sliding into you while you're still trying to heat up your stupid breakfast leftovers. Thought about filling you up so full you'd be leaking me all afternoon while you sit in your meetings pretending to be a professional."
"That's—" You swallow, hard. "That's what you were thinking about? During a work call?"
"Every second." Seungcheol grinds against you again, and this time you can feel the full length of him, the girth that still makes your mouth water even after all these months. "Couldn't focus. Couldn't think about anything except your tight little cunt and how bad I need to be inside it. How bad I need to use it."
He says that and lets out a shameful pathetic mewl.
The word "use" and the desperate sound that escapes him land in your chest and detonate. You know what he's doing—he's working you up, talking filth the way he knows you like, the way that makes you weak and pliant and ready to let him do anything. And normally you would let him. Normally you would let him spin you around, bend you over, and fuck you stupid right here against the kitchen counter, and you would come apart on his cock and thank him for it afterwards.
But thanks to his little pathetic display you're feeling something else. Something sharper. Seungcheol spent an hour squirming in his chair thinking about using you? Fine. But you spent that same hour catching glimpses of him in his stupid soft flannel shirt, his hair messy, his brows furrowed, his plush lips wrapped around his water bottle, and you've been simmering with your own kind of want. And maybe it's the oncoming ovulation hormones, or maybe it's the way he whimpered when he first wrapped his arms around you and mewled just now, but something in you decides that today, you're not going to be the one who gets reduced to a mindless, begging mess.
Today, that's going to be him.
His fingers have slipped under the waistband of your panties now, tracing through your slick folds with a slow, exploratory pressure that makes your breath hitch. He's about to push inside—you can feel the tension in his wrist, the way his breathing has gone ragged against your neck—when you reach around with your free hand and squeeze his cock through his sweatpants.
Hard.
Seungcheol makes a sound you've never heard before. A choked, strangled yelp that's half surprise and half something else entirely. His whole body jerks against you, his hips bucking into your grip, and his fingers freeze where they are.
"What—" he starts, but you squeeze again, and the word dissolves into a whimper.
"Here's what's going to happen, baby," you say, and your voice comes out breathless but somewhat steady. "You're going to take your hand out of my panties. You're going to get on your knees. And you're going to do exactly what I tell you. Got it, hmm?"
Seungcheol doesn't answer immediately. His chest is heaving against your back, his cock throbbing in your grip, and you can feel the war happening inside him—the instinct to take over, to reclaim control, wrestling with the part of him that loves this, the part that goes soft and eager and desperate when you turn the tables.
"Got it?" you repeat, and you twist your wrist just enough to make him gasp.
"Yeah," he breathes, voice going a little higher than usual. "Yeah, okay. Got it."
"Good boy."
The words hit him like a physical blow. You feel the full-body shudder that runs through him, the way his cock kicks against your palm, the way his breathing goes even more ragged and uneven. He pulls his hand out of your panties slowly, reluctantly, and you release your grip on him just long enough for him to step back.
"Strip," you say as soon as you turn around to see him.
He does. He pulls his t-shirt over his head first, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the thick shoulders and defined pecs, the trail of dark hair that runs down his stomach and disappears into the waistband of his sweats. Then his pants go, pushed down over his hips, and his boxers with them, until he's standing naked in the middle of the kitchen with his cock jutting up toward his belly, flushed dark at the tip and already leaking.
You take a moment to look at Seungcheol. It never gets old—the sheer size of him, the thickness, the way his cock curves just slightly, so pretty. The way it twitches under your gaze like it's begging for attention—and you bet it is. The way his balls hang heavy and full, a reminder that he hasn't come since yesterday morning, which in his case means he's already backed up and desperate and so, so easy to break.
"You're so pretty," you murmur, and you mean it. "Look at you. Standing there dripping for me. Such a desperate pathetic mess already and I haven't even touched you."
His cock gives you an eager reaction, twitching and bobbing up and down at your words, and you smile at how it throbs, almost like it's whining and jumping for you to touch it. Seungcheol's ears go red. That very deep, mortified flush that you've been watching since the very first night, except now it makes your chest ache with something tender and possessive instead of irritated. "Baby—"
"On your knees," you order softly, lips stretched in the sweetest of smiles.
He drops so fast you hear his knees hit the tile. You wince, breaking character just for a moment, worried, but Seungcheol doesn't seem to care at all, he is looking up at you with those big brown eyes, pupils blown wide, lips parted, and he is so fucking wreckable in this very moment that it makes your pussy clench and you don't even notice as you slip back into the little play the two of you are orchestrating.
"Please," he whispers, and he doesn't even know what he's asking for. He just knows he needs something, anything, as long as it is from you.
"Please what?" you hum, watching his eyes turn even shinier than before. He's so pretty like this it is unfair. Not for the first time he's giving you aggression urges.
"Please let me taste you. Need to put my mouth on you. I've been thinking about it all morning—thinking about how you taste, how soft and warm you feel on my tongue—please, baby? I need it—"
"Shh." You step forward, close enough that he can smell you again—his nostrils visibly flare when he silently inhales you—and you can feel his exhale ghost against your thighs. "I know. I know you've been a desperate little puppy all morning, couldn't even pay attention to your stupid meeting because you were too busy thinking about my pussy. Isn't that right?"
He nods, frantic, his hands twitching at his sides like he's physically restraining himself from grabbing you. You wouldn't mind if he did, to be fair. "Yes. Yes, that's right. Couldn't—couldn't think about anything else. Just you. Just your sweet pussy. Just how bad I wanted to be inside it." He whimpers and squirms on his knees, and his cock twitches again at the image growing vivid in his head.
"And instead you're on your knees." You reach down, thread your fingers through his hair, and tug—not hard enough to hurt, only to tilt his head back and make him look at you. "Because you're not in charge right now. I am. And I decide when you get to touch me. I decide when you get to cum. Understood?"
"Understood." His voice is wrecked already, and you haven't even started.
"Good." You release his hair and hop up onto the edge of the counter, spreading your legs. "Now be a good boy and get to work."
You pat your thigh and Seungcheol doesn't need to be told twice. His hands find your thighs, tugging your underwear off with urgent impatience before spreading you wider to make room, and then his mouth is on you and the world dissolves into sensation for both of you.
Seungcheol eats pussy like he's been starving for years and you're the first meal he's been served. His tongue is broad and wet and relentless, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit with a pressure that makes your hips immediately buck against his face. He genuinely moans when he tastes you, like the flavour of your arousal is the best thing he's ever experienced—and the vibration against your clit sends a shockwave up your spine, makes your soles tingle and toes curl.
"Fuck," you breathe, one hand bracing against the counter, the other fisting in his hair. "That's it. That's—right there—"
He stays there. His tongue circles your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, and then his lips close around it and he sucks, and your vision whites out for a second, an involuntary squeal leaving your mouth.
"Oh my god—" you pant, voice getting strained and high-pitched with pleasure.
He hums against you, pleased, and the vibration makes you jolt again. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks, holding you open for him, and his tongue keeps working you in a rhythm that's devastatingly precise. He knows exactly what you like. Of course he does. He's spent months learning your body like a language, and now he's fluent.
But you're not going to let him make you come just yet. You tug on his hair, pulling him back, and he looks up at you with his face slick and shining, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes hazy and half-lidded with want.
"Why'd you stop me?" he whines. "I wasn't done. You taste so good, baby, please let me finish—"
"Because I want to sit on your face."
His eyes go wide. Then darken. His cock, which has been bobbing neglected against his stomach, twitches and throbs visibly, a fresh bead of precum welling at the tip.
"Fuck," he whispers. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I want that. Please."
"Get on the floor then."
He lies down on the kitchen tiles without a shred of dignity, his cock standing up like a flagpole, his chest heaving. You slide off the counter and stand over him for a moment, looking down at the picture he makes—this big, muscular man, sprawled on the cold floor, looking up at you like you're the sun and the moon and every star in the sky, his cock leaking all over his own stomach.
"You're so pathetic," you tell him, and you mean it as the highest compliment.
"I know," he breathes. "I'm your pathetic little puppy. Now please—please sit on my face. I need your cunt on my tongue. Need you to smother me with your sweet pussy, baby."
Gosh, you both are so fucking nasty for each other, you chuckle and lower yourself down, kneeling carefully over his head. The first contact of his tongue against your pussy makes you both groan—him from the taste, you from the sensation of his mouth working you open while you settle your full weight onto him. Your thighs bracket his head, and his hands come up to grip your ass, guiding you, pulling you down harder, to sit your entire weight on him.
You let Seungcheol work for a while. Let his tongue fuck into you, let his lips close around your clit, let him moan and whimper against your flesh while you rock your hips in slow, lazy circles. But you have other plans for him, so you twist just enough to reach back, your hand finding his cock where it's standing rigid and neglected.
The sound he makes when you wrap your fingers around him is muffled by your pussy, and you feel the desperate, broken groan that vibrates through your entire body. You stroke him slowly, from base to tip, your thumb swiping over the slick, swollen head to collect the precum that's been pooling there just to massage his frenulum and make the man twitch and jerk his hips uncontrollably, losing all pace of his oral ministrations.
"Look at you," you murmur, looking down at him. "So hard for me. So wet. You're dripping all over yourself. Such a pretty mess, hmm."
He can't answer. His mouth is full of your cunt, his tongue buried inside you, and all he can do is whine and buck his hips into your grip, either encouraging or just sensitive.
"Is this what you wanted? When you were sitting in your meeting with your cock all hard and aching? You wanted to be on your back on the kitchen floor, being used like a toy?"
Seungcheol nods frantically, his nose bumping against your clit, and the sensation makes you gasp.
"That's what I thought. You're nothing but a dumb mutt when I get my hands on you. What a sight, huh? A big, strong man reduced to a whimpering mess on the floor. Your friends have no idea, do they? Do they think you're this alpha male now? That you're the cool guy of the group after you bagged me, hmm?” You apply more weight onto his face and Seungcheol groans against you, soft tongue licking deeper into your heat, coaxing a moan out of you. "Should we let them know that you actually love getting on your knees for me? Love being a good puppy for me?"
You twist your wrist on the upstroke, and his hips stutter, his cock pulsing in your grip. He's close. You can feel it in the way his thighs are tensing, the way his breathing has gone ragged and uneven, and the way his tongue has lost its rhythm against your pussy because he can't concentrate on anything except the pleasure you're wringing out of him.
"Are you going to come?" You ask sweetly. "Are you going to spill all over yourself and make a mess like a good little slut?"
He tries to nod again, but you're already pulling your hand away.
"Too bad," you say, and his desperate, wounded keen is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "You don't get to cum until I say so. And I haven't said so."
"Please," he gasps, his mouth finally free of your pussy because you've lifted your hips just enough to look down at him. His face is a mess—lips swollen, cheeks flushed, chin slick with your arousal. "Please, baby, I need to cum. I've been thinking about it all day. I can't—"
"Oh, but you can." You climb off him, and he whines at the loss of contact, his hands reaching for you instinctively. "Get up. Bend me over the counter."
Seungcheol scrambles to his feet so fast he nearly slips and you snicker, telling him to be careful. His cock is an angry red, throbbing visibly, a steady stream of precum dripping from the tip on every twitch. He looks ruined already, and you haven't even let him inside you yet.
You turn around and brace yourself against the counter, arching your back, presenting yourself to him. You're soaked—your thighs are glistening, your pussy is swollen and dripping with a mix of your juices and his spit, and you know exactly what he's seeing right now.
"Now you can fuck me," you tell him. "Slow. Exactly the way I want it. And you're not going to come. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he breathes, steps closer behind you. "Yes, I understand. I'll be good. I'll be so good for you."
He lines himself up. You feel the blunt, thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and even though you're wet and open and ready, the stretch is still overwhelming. Seungcheol pushes in slowly, inch by inch, spreading your walls, filing the empty space that begged to be filled, and you both groan in unison as he fills you.
"Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're always so tight. How are you still so tight?"
"Shut up and move."
He pulls out almost all the way, making you feel the way his veined shaft drags against your sensitive walls, and then pushes back in. Seungcheol fucks you exactly the way you told him to—slow, deep, each thrust deliberate and measured. His hands are gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and you can hear the effort it's taking him to hold back, the way his breathing is coming in ragged gasps, the way he's trembling against you.
"You feel so good," he babbles again. "You feel so fucking good, baby, I can't—I don't know how much longer I can—"
"You can last as long as I tell you to last." But your voice is shaking now too. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting that spot inside you with every slow, grinding thrust, and you're getting close yourself. "Don't you dare cum without permission. Don't you fucking dare."
"I won't. I won't, I promise, just—please, can I go faster? Please?"
"No. Keep it slow. I want to feel every inch of you."
He whimpers, but he does what he's told. His thrusts stay slow and deep, his cock dragging against your walls, and you can feel the orgasm building in your core, coiling tighter and tighter—
Your phone rings.
Your intuition immediately screams at you that it must be someone from work.
"Fuck," you hiss in half frustration, half panic. "Fuck, Cheol, stop, I have—have to take this—"
You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens. "No," he whines. "No, baby, please, I'm so close, don't stop me—"
Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel bad for the man, he sounds so ruined.
"I'm not asking." You pull yourself off his cock with a wet, obscene sound, and Seungcheol makes a noise like you've stabbed him. His cock bobs in the air, angry and neglected, throbbing and jumping with denied orgasm. A thick strand of your combined fluids connects him to your pussy for a brief moment before it snaps. He whines out a sob.
"You ruined it," Seungcheol breathes, and he sounds genuinely devastated. "You ruined my orgasm. Baby, why? I was right there—"
"Stay here," you order, already grabbing your phone from the kitchen table where it was resting forgotten all this time. "Don't move."
You answer the call as you walk toward your room, your voice switching to a semblance of something professional and pleasant even though your thighs are still wet and your pussy is still aching and empty. "Hey, yeah, sorry, just give me one second—"
You don't get your one second. Because Seungcheol, your sweet, pathetic, desperate boyfriend, has followed you despite what you told him to do.
You feel him before you see him—his body pressing up behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his cock sliding between your thighs, still slick with your arousal. You're standing in front of your desk, phone pressed to your ear, and he's already bending you forward, already lining himself up.
"No," you mouth silently, turning your head to glare at him. "Don't you dare."
Seungcheol meets your eyes. His are dark and wild and desperate, and there's something almost feral in his expression. He doesn't stop. He pushes inside you in one smooth, harsh thrust that jolts your entire body, and the sensation of intrusion is so sudden and overwhelming that you have to bite down on your own hand to keep from crying out. This leaves you with no support, which means you pretty much topple over, suddenly pressed into your desk with Seungcheol's hand that was applying pressure between your shoulder blades.
"—and so I was wondering if you could take a look at this document before the meeting this afternoon," your team lead is saying in your ear, her voice cheerful and oblivious. "I know it's last minute, but I think there might be an error on page five."
"Of course," you manage, and your voice comes out surprisingly steady considering the fact that your boyfriend is currently buried balls-deep inside you, his hips already starting to move. "I can—I can do that. No problem."
Seungcheol fucks into you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel how close he still is from before, how desperate. One of his hands slides up and down your back, pressing you down onto the desk before you can even think of lifting your upper body into an upright position, and the other grips your hip hard enough to anchor you in place.
"Great, thanks," your team lead says. "Also, I wanted to ask about the client presentation next week. Have you had a chance to—"
He chooses that moment to thrust particularly deep, his cock hitting your cervix, and a tiny, strangled sound escapes your throat before you can stop it.
"You okay?" your team lead asks.
"Yes," you say, and your voice is definitely too high. "Yes, sorry, I just—stubbed my toe. On the desk. It's fine."
Seungcheol leans down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing your free ear. "Little liar," he whispers, so quiet only you can hear. "What will your boss do if she finds out you're getting fucked during your working hours?” He can't help a chuckle that escapes him when he comes up with his next question. "Hmm, does it make you a slut for fucking me and getting paid while doing so? Technically…" he trails off and your pussy clenches traitorously as soon as your brain registers what he just said.
You want to kill him. You want to kill him and then marry him and then kill him again.
"—and if you could send me the updated slides by end of day, that would be perfect," your team lead is saying.
"End of day," you repeat, barely processing the words. Seungcheol has picked up his pace, just slightly, and the sound of his cock sliding into your wet, messy pussy is so loud in the quiet room that you're sure your team lead can hear it if the line stays silent for a moment too long. "Yes. Slides. I'll—I'll send them."
"Are you sure you're okay? You sound a little off."
"I'm fine. I'm great. Just—writing it down."
Seungcheol muffles a laugh against your shoulder. His hand leaves your hip and snakes around to your front, finding your clit with devastating accuracy. Your whole body jolts.
"That's the spot, isn't it?" he breathes in your ear. "That's the spot that makes you stupid. You're going to come on my cock while you're on the phone, aren't you? You're going to soak me and she's going to hear it."
You shake your head frantically, but you can't speak. Your team lead is still talking, something about deadlines and team meetings, and you're nodding along and making vague sounds of agreement while your boyfriend rubs circles on your clit and fucks into you with deep, punishing strokes. You're trying so hard not to start panting or moaning, and your brainpower continues to slip from your grasp.
"I'm going to fill you up," he whispers. "I'm going to pump you so full of cum it'll be dripping out of you for the rest of the day. And you're going to sit in your meetings and feel it leaking into your panties, and you're going to think about me. About this. About how I ruined you while you were trying to be professional."
"Okay," you say into the phone, and you have no idea what you're agreeing to. "Okay, sounds good. I have to—I have to go now, I'll send those slides."
"No rush," your team lead says. "Talk later!"
You hang up with confused fingers, missing the red button on the screen a couple of taps before you finally manage to end the call. The phone clatters onto the desk.
And then you let yourself fall apart.
"Cheol—" It comes out as a loud sob, half fury and half desperate, overwhelming need. "You—you fucking—I can't believe you—"
"You loved it." He's not even trying to hide the smugness in his voice, but it's undercut by the way his hips are stuttering, the way his rhythm is falling apart. "You loved every second of it. I could feel you getting wetter and clenching around me when she asked if you were okay."
"I'm going to kill you—after—after I come—"
"Yeah?" He presses harder on your clit, circles it with the perfect pressure that he knows you enjoy, and the orgasm that's been building since the kitchen finally, finally explodes. "Then come for me. Now, baby. Let me feel it."
You shatter with a mewl. It rips through you like a thunderclap, your whole body seizing up, your pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic, pulsing waves. You scream—you can't help it, the sound tears out of you raw and unguarded after long minutes of trying to suppress it all—and Seungcheol groans and buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside you in hot, copious pulses.
He keeps thrusting through it, fucking his cum deeper into you, and you can feel it flooding you, filling you, leaking out around his cock in a white obscene ring and dripping down your thighs. He doesn't stop until he's completely spent, and then he collapses over you, his weight pressing you into the desk, his breath hot and ragged against the back of your neck.
For a long moment the room is silent. The only sounds are your mingled breathing and the faint, distant hum of the fridge in the kitchen.
Then: "You're a menace," you whisper, swallowing thickly and heaving a sigh.
He laughs, breathless and giddy and a little bit wrecked. "Yeah. But you're the same. And you love me."
You don't argue. You can't. Not when his cock is still inside you, still half-hard, still plugging you full of his cum. Not when you can already feel it starting to drip out despite his best efforts. Not when your legs are shaking so badly you're not sure you can stand if you try.
"Next time," you manage, "I'm locking you to a piece of furniture before I take a work call."
"Hmm, I think next time," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade, "you'll let me do it again. Because you're just as depraved as I am."
You hate that he's right. You hate it even more that you don't hate it at all.
*.(๓•͙ ˕ •͙๓).* Please like + reblog + comment if you enjoyed your time reading this! This means a lot and motivates me to continue posting.
黑穗病 ─── "I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight." after months of fantasizing about your best friend, he finally teaches you what real sex with him feels like.
ⳇ 𝓟 airing ╸ bff!jay x needy!f!reader
ⳇ w/c: 12.5k
㰙꯭ؚۣۙۗ㰛꯭ؚؔ 𝓦arnings: MDNI, overstimulation, unprotected sex, edging, mild ass play, rough sex, fingering, oral sex (f!rec), orgasm denial, hair holding, creampie, tipsy sex, lmk if moree
𝓡ina's note: firstofall, want to apologize bcuz i think theres a repeated part bcuz tumblr froze on me, n even though ive read it twice i cant find it and im going crazy... second... i wasn't quite sure how to write Jay's personality, n im taking a little longer with Sunoo's, so in between ig i'll do a smau asked for n if u want to request something, go ahead, headcanons or smau for u«3 reblog or life if uliked ittt
总清单之家 check my ::⠀ ⠀، ⠀ ── 𝓜asterlist 𝓗ome
You had been in love with Jay Park since the second year of high school.
It started as something quieter than a crush — a slow, warm pull every time he leaned over your desk to show you a riff on his phone, or when he'd wait for you after class with one earbud dangling, offering the other so you could listen to the same song.
He was always cool, a little sharp with his humor, but never cruel.
He remembered the small things: how you liked your coffee, the way you fiddled with your sleeves when you were nervous, the fact that you secretly wanted to learn guitar even though you were convinced your fingers were too clumsy.
Two months had passed since graduation, and the two of you had slipped into this strange new version of adulthood.
No more uniforms, no more bells dictating your day. just late nights, cheap takeout, and the growing tension that neither of you had named.
You told yourself it was just a silly, accumulation of caring over the years.
But lately it had become something heavier. needier.
Because it wasn't just his smile or the way he looked at you like he could read every thought behind your eyes.
It was the guitar lessons.
Every few nights you ended up in his room — that warm, low-lit sanctuary at the back of his aparment.
Soft golden lighting, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with wood polish and whatever bottle of wine he'd opened that evening.
He'd sit behind you on the bed or on that worn leather stool, chest brushing your back as he guided your fingers along the fretboard.
His voice would drop low when he corrected your posture, breath warm against your ear.
And every single time, you left that room wet, aching, and painfully aware of how badly you wanted more than just his hands on yours.
Tonight, that ache felt louder than usual.
The restaurant was still buzzing when you all stepped outside.
The four of you had taken over a corner table for nearly three hours — pasta plates half-empty, bottles of soju and beer scattered like evidence.
Heeseung had been the calm anchor as always, laughing deeply at Jake's ridiculous stories about his latest failed attempt at cooking.
Jake, true to form, had been loud and playful, teasing you about how red your cheeks got after your third glass.
"Alright, i'm tapping out" Heeseung said, stretching his arms above his head. he grinned at you and Jay. "you two heading back too?"
Jake slung an arm around your shoulders for a second, giving you a quick squeeze. "don't let Jay bore you to death with more guitar talk."
You laughed, the sound a little loose from the alcohol. "too late. i think i'm officially addicted."
Jay stood a step behind you, hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, watching the exchange with that trademark half-smirk.
He hadn't drunk much — maybe one beer the whole night. he never did when he knew he'd be the one making sure everyone got home safe.
"Get home safe, hyung" Jay told Heeseung, bumping fists. "Jake, stop burning your kitchen down."
Jake flipped him off playfully as he and Heeseung headed toward the main road to catch a cab. you waved until they disappeared around the corner, the streetlights catching their silhouettes.
And then it was just you and Jay.
It was barely past 9 PM, but the city had already slipped into that quieter, darker version of itself.
The restaurant sat on a side street lined with closed shops and a few scattered people hurrying home.
Neon signs flickered softly in the distance. your cheeks felt warm, the alcohol humming pleasantly in your veins, making everything feel a little softer around the edges.
Jay glanced at you, dark eyes scanning your face.
"You good?" he asked, voice low and steady. "you look a little flushed."
"I'm fine" you answered, maybe a touch too quickly.
You smiled up at him, feeling bolder than usual. "just… warm. and i don't really want to go home yet. my brothers are probably screaming at some video game right now. your place is quieter."
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. that familiar mix of amusement and something unreadable.
"You sure? i can drop you off. you drank more than usual tonight."
You stepped a little closer, the alcohol loosening your usual shyness. "i'm sure. i'd rather be with you."
The words came out softer than you meant them to, almost flirty. Jay's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than normal before he nodded.
"Alright. let's go."
The walk to his place wasn't long.
Jay kept pace beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed every few steps. he didn't say much, but he was always like that — comfortable in silence.
Every once in a while he'd glance over to make sure you were steady on your feet.
When you finally reached his apartment, you stepped into his room, the familiar warmth settled over you like a blanket.
The lighting was exactly how he liked it: soft, gold tones from the tall floor lamp in the corner.
His acoustic guitar rested on its stand beside the electric one. a half-finished bottle of red wine sat on the low wooden table next to two clean glasses.
The small leather couch had a couple of blankets thrown over it, and the walls held photos — some of the group, some of just the two of you from random outings over the years.
It smelled like him: wood, faint cologne, and that subtle hint of wine that always seemed to linger here.
Jay shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair.
"Sit" he said, nodding toward the couch. "i'll get you some water first. you're going to thank me tomorrow."
You dropped onto the couch, watching him move around the room with that effortless confidence.
Even after years of friendship, you never got tired of looking at him. the sharp line of his jaw, the way his black hair fell across his forehead, the casual way his shirt stretched across his shoulders.
He came back with a glass of cold water and handed it to you before pouring himself a small amount of wine.
"You're really not that drunk, are you?" you asked, teasing lightly as you sipped the water.
Jay chuckled, settling beside you on the couch. not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat of his body.
"I'm sober enough to know you're tipsy" he replied, voice smooth. "and sober enough to know you get chatty when you are."
You laughed softly, pulling your legs up onto the couch.
The alcohol made your thoughts swirl — memories of all those guitar lessons mixing with the deeper, filthier ones you tried to push down.
You'd been in love with him for years.
But lately, the need had grown teeth.
It wasn't just romantic anymore.
You wanted him.
Wanted his hands on you for reasons that had nothing to do with chord positions. wanted to know what his mouth felt like. wanted to taste him.
To have his cock in your mouth, heavy and warm, to hear the way his voice would break if you took him deep.
Not anyone else's. just Jay's.
Those thoughts had been getting louder since the lessons started two months ago.
Every time his fingers covered yours on the strings, every time his chest pressed against your back and he murmured instructions against your ear… you left his room throbbing, panties ruined, fingers slipping between your legs the second you got home.
And now here you were again, in his room, a little drunk, heart racing.
"Now you're quiet" Jay observed, tilting his head. his dark eyes studied you carefully. "what's going on in that head of yours?"
You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
"Just… thinking about how long we've been friends" you said, keeping your voice light. "feels weird sometimes. like we're actual adults now."
Jay hummed in agreement, taking a slow sip of wine. "yeah. but some things don't change." he glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "you still suck at guitar."
You gasped dramatically, shoving his shoulder. he laughed — that low, rich sound you loved — and caught your wrist gently before you could pull away.
"See? still easy to mess with."
His thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, just once. the touch sent electricity straight down your spine. you didn't pull away.
The air between you felt thicker than usual. the golden lighting cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more unfairly handsome. you could smell his cologne again, warm and familiar.
"Jay…" you started, not even sure what you wanted to say.
He raised an eyebrow, still holding your wrist loosely.
"Yeah?"
You swallowed. the need you’d been carrying for years — the filthy, aching want — sat heavy on your tongue. but you weren't brave enough yet.
Instead, you just smiled, shy but warm, and leaned your head against his shoulder like you'd done a hundred times before.
"I'm glad you're my best friend" you whispered.
Jay was quiet for a moment. then his hand shifted, resting lightly on your knee.
"Me too" he murmured.
But his fingers stayed there, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and neither of you moved to change the subject.
The night was still young, and the tension that had been building for years felt dangerously close to spilling over.
The water helped a little, but the alcohol still buzzed warmly through your system, making your limbs feel loose and your thoughts dangerously unguarded.
You watched Jay move across the room with that effortless grace he always had. he reached for one of his guitars, and your breath caught.
He picked up the acoustic — his prized custom-made gibson Vesper.
The instrument looked beautiful under the soft café-gold lighting: dark wood with elegant black binding, sleek and modern with a vampire-inspired design he'd once explained to you in detail.
It was his baby, the one he played when he wanted something intimate and warm-toned.
"I've been working on a new melody" he said casually, settling on the stool across from the couch. his long fingers wrapped around the neck of the Vesper like it was an extension of himself. "want to hear it?"
You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "yeah… show me."
He strummed a few soft chords first, then launched into the short piece. just five or six seconds of a smooth, melancholic melody that shifted into something warmer, almost seductive in its simplicity.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, lips parted just a fraction as he focused. the way his fingers moved — precise, confident, pressing and sliding along the frets — made heat pool low in your stomach.
God, you didn't even know if you actually cared about learning guitar anymore.
Was it the music? or was it just him?
The way his forearms flexed, the focused set of his jaw, the way the warm light caught on his sharp cheekbones and made his dark hair look softer.
You wanted him so badly it embarrassed you sometimes.
Especially tonight, with the alcohol making your skin feel too hot and your inhibitions paper-thin.
In your head, the thoughts were already spiraling: kneeling between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, tasting him, hearing that low voice of his break while you sucked him deep. not just any dick. his.
Jay finished the short melody and looked up, smirking when he saw your expression.
"Not bad, right?" he asked.
"It was beautiful" you said honestly, your voice a little breathy. "i love how it sounds on the Vesper."
He stood and walked over, offering you the guitar. "you know the basics now. let's try teaching you your first real short melody. nothing too crazy."
You took the Vesper carefully, the wood warm from his hands.
On the outside, you looked focused and innocent, adjusting the strap and sitting up straighter.
"Posture." Jay reminded you.
He moved behind you on the couch, one leg on either side of your body so he could reach around. his chest pressed lightly against your back as he corrected the angle of the guitar on your lap.
One hand settled on your shoulder to straighten your back, the other sliding down to adjust your left hand on the fretboard.
His touch was warm. deliberate.
You bit your lip hard without thinking, a quiet little sound escaping as his fingers covered yours, guiding them into position. the alcohol made it impossible to hide your reaction — your cheeks burned, your thighs pressed together instinctively.
Jay paused. you could feel him smirk against the side of your head.
"Easy there" he murmured, voice low and teasing near your ear. "don't break my strings with that death grip. or is the Vesper too much for you tonight?"
You let out a shaky laugh. "shut up. i'm trying."
He didn't move away immediately. his fingers stayed over yours a second longer than necessary, then he pulled back just enough to watch but remained close.
"Go ahead. start with the first four chords i showed you last time. slow."
You tried.
Your fingers felt clumsier than usual from the drinks, but you managed to hit the notes — not fluid, not pretty, but recognizable. better than a total beginner.
The Vesper's rich tone filled the room even with your imperfect playing.
Jay hummed approvingly. "not terrible. you're improving."
Then, out of nowhere, he dropped the bomb.
"So… how was that blind date with Sunghoon a week ago?"
Your fingers slipped. a horrible, discordant twang rang out from the guitar. you winced.
"Why are you asking about that?" you said quickly, glancing over your shoulder at him.
Jay shrugged, leaning back against the couch but still watching you closely. his expression was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "just curious. Jake mentioned Sunghoon told him you two… hooked up."
The room felt suddenly warmer. you stared down at the guitar, fingers frozen on the strings.
It was true.
You'd gone on that blind date desperate to convince yourself that your insane attraction to Jay was just horniness. just lack of sex.
Sunghoon was good-looking, you'd slept with him after a couple of drinks. the sex had been… fine. mechanically okay.
But it left you emptier than before. because all you could think about during and after was Jay. how you wished it was Jay's hands, Jay's mouth.
It had only made your filthy fantasies about your best friend worse.
You tried to play it off, strumming a few awkward notes that sounded completely off-key. "Jake needs to mind his own business. why is he such a gossip?"
Jay chuckled, that low, amused sound that always sent shivers down your spine. he reached over and gently corrected your finger placement again, his touch lingering.
"Because he's Jake. and you're avoiding the question."
You huffed, the alcohol making you bolder even as embarrassment burned your face. "it happened, okay? it was… whatever. not life-changing."
Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by how flustered you were getting. "not life-changing? damn. poor Sunghoon. but ifeel like details are missing."
You shot him a look, trying to sound defensive. "i've grown up, you know. i'm not that irresponsible girl from high school who told you every dirty detail about her first time in graphic, disgusting detail anymore."
Jay laughed outright at that, leaning closer again. his breath brushed your neck.
"Oh yeah? because i remember that conversation very clearly. you did not hold back. 'it felt like a sad hot dog in a hallway' was the line that still lives rent-free in my head."
You groaned, covering your face with one hand while still awkwardly holding the guitar with the other. "i was drunk and stupid! and like… seventeen."
"You're still a little drunk tonight" he pointed out, voice teasing but softer. "and still oversharing, apparently."
The conversation hung between you, heavy with years of history. you tried to play again, but your notes kept clashing — messy, out of rhythm, completely unfocused.
Jay didn't stop you. he just watched, eyes dark and thoughtful under the warm lighting.
You sighed. "it was just an escape, Jay. i thought maybe if i… did something, it would quiet my head. but it didn't. it was okay, but… it wasn't..." you trailed off, not brave enough to finish that sentence.
It wasn't you.
Jay was quiet for a long moment. his hand came to rest on your lower back, a casual but intimate touch as he leaned in to adjust your right hand strumming position.
"You're thinking too hard" he said eventually, voice low. "that's why it sounds like the guitar is in pain."
You laughed despite yourself, the sound shaky.
Being this close to him, drunk, with his hands on you and your mind full of filthy thoughts about sucking him off right here in this room… it was torture.
The lesson continued like that for a while longer.
Jay guided you through the simple melody, patient even when your playing fell apart. every correction involved him touching you — fingers on yours, hand on your waist to fix posture, knee brushing your thigh.
Each touch sent sparks through your body.
At one point you shifted on the couch, and your thigh pressed firmly against his. you didn't move away. neither did he.
"You're really warm" he commented after a while, almost absentmindedly. "still feeling the drinks?"
"Yeah" you admitted, biting your lip again as his fingers guided yours into a new chord. "everything feels… a lot right now."
Jay hummed. his voice dropped lower. "i can tell."
The air in the room felt thicker.
And as Jay leaned in once more to correct your hand, his lips accidentally brushing the shell of your ear as he murmured instructions, you wondered how much longer you could keep pretending this was just about learning guitar.
The warmth of his breath sent a shiver racing down your spine. you froze, fingers stiffening on the frets of the Vesper.
The rich, dark wood of the guitar felt heavier in your lap now, like it knew the real reason your heart was hammering.
"I… i think i can't keep playing right now" you admitted, voice softer than you intended. the alcohol made your words feel thick on your tongue. "i'd love to, though. your Vesper sounds so beautiful. it's honestly such a pretty guitar. the tone is just… perfect."
Jay pulled back slightly, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. that sound — God, that sound — always did dangerous things to you.
He reached around you to gently take the guitar from your hands, his fingers brushing over yours one last time.
"Yeah? she's my favorite for a reason" he said, standing up with the instrument.
He walked over to the stand and carefully placed the custom Gibson Vesper back in its spot, adjusting it with the same care he always showed his things.
You watched him move, the soft golden lighting casting gentle shadows along his shoulders and arms.
The room felt smaller now. cozier. the faint scent of wine still lingered in the air, mixing with his cologne and the wood polish from his guitars.
He turned back to you, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. "it's getting late anyway. past eleven already. you're pretty drunk, and i'm not letting you go home like this. you can just stay over. saves time, and your brothers are probably still up causing chaos."
You let out a bright, tipsy laugh, the kind that came out a little too loud because of the alcohol. "yeah? okay. i'd like that. a lot, actually."
Jay's smirk deepened, but there was something softer behind it. "didn't even think twice, huh?"
"Nope" you said, popping the 'p' playfully.
He walked over to the built-in closet near the back of the room and pulled out clothes. two oversized t-shirts — one black, one dark gray — and a pair of soft black pajama shorts.
He held them out to you.
'Here. you can wear these. that dress looks cute but it's not exactly sleep-friendly. too cold in here at night if you're not covered up properly."
You stood up, a little unsteady, and took the clothes from him.
Your fingers brushed his, and you felt that familiar spark again. "thanks, Jay."
Before he could say anything else, you grabbed the bundle and slipped behind the heavy cream-colored curtain that separated the small changing corner from the rest of the room.
It was something he'd put up after one too many late-night study sessions when you'd crash here.
You heard him laugh quietly on the other side.
"Drunk you is way shyer than sober you" he teased, voice warm with amusement. "usually you just strip down in front of me like i'm not even here. claiming 'we're best friends, it doesn't matter.' but the second alcohol hits… curtain time."
You fumbled with the zipper of your dress, cheeks burning. "shut up. i'm being responsible."
"Responsible" he echoed, clearly not buying it. you could hear him moving around, already changing too. "sure."
"I am!" you called back, laughing as you pulled his t-shirt over your head. it smelled like him — clean laundry, faint cologne, and that comforting warmth that always made your stomach flip.
The shorts were a little loose on your hips, but they were soft and comfortable. "i've grown up. i'm not that chaotic high school girl anymore."
You stepped out from behind the curtain, adjusting the hem of the oversized shirt. and then you stopped dead.
Jay was in the middle of pulling his own shirt on.
He already had the gray pajama shorts on, hanging low on his hips, but his torso was still bare. the warm lighting highlighted every line of muscle on his chest and abdomen — the result of casual gym sessions.
His skin looked smooth, shoulders broad, that sharp V-line disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.
You let out a soft, involuntary exhale, almost a gasp. your heart skipped hard.
Jay noticed immediately. he tugged the shirt down quickly, but not before you got a full view.
His eyebrow arched, that signature smirk returning.
"Damn. you really are wasted tonight" he said, voice low and teasing as he stepped closer. "if you want, i can tie you up so you can control yourself better. keep those wandering eyes in check."
Your brain short-circuited for a second.
Yes. God, yes. tie me up. use me. anything.
The filthy thought flashed through your mind so fast it made you dizzy. but on the outside, you just let out a nervous laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly.
"Stop it" you mumbled, still smiling. "i'm fine. perfectly fine. just… surprised you're changing in the middle of the room, that's all."
He chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "this is my room. and you've seen me shirtless plenty of times. at the beach last summer, remember? or when we went swimming at Sunoo's parents' pool?"
"That was different" you muttered, walking over to the couch and dropping down onto it, pulling one of the soft blankets over your legs.
Your face felt hot. the alcohol wasn't helping you hide anything.
Jay followed, sitting on the other end of the couch but turning toward you. the room felt even more intimate now — just the two of you in comfortable clothes, the golden lights dimmed slightly, the faint sound of the city outside barely audible.
"So" he said after a moment, grabbing the half-empty bottle of water and taking a sip before offering it to you. "you really didn't enjoy it with Sunghoon?"
You groaned, covering your face with both hands. "we're back to this?"
"I'm curious" he said simply. "you're my best friend. if some guy didn't treat you right or couldn't make it good for you, i need to know. i'll kick his ass if necessary."
You peeked at him through your fingers. he looked genuinely relaxed, but there was that focused intensity in his eyes again — the same one he got when he was trying to read you.
"It wasn't bad" you said slowly, lowering your hands. "he was… nice. polite. good-looking, obviously. but it just felt… mechanical. like we were both going through the motions. i thought maybe sleeping with someone would help clear my head about certain things, but it only made it worse."
Jay tilted his head. "worse how?"
You shrugged, tracing patterns on the blanket with your finger.
Your mind was still swirling with images you couldn't say out loud —his low groans filling this exact room.
"Just… confirmed some stuff" you said vaguely. "that i'm probably not built for casual stuff. my brain gets too loud."
Jay was quiet for a beat. then he shifted closer, stretching his arm along the back of the couch until his fingers lightly brushed your shoulder again.
"You've always been like that" he murmured. "even back in high school. you overthink everything. except when you're telling me way too many details about your personal life."
You laughed, the sound breathy. "i was young and stupid. and you were the only person i trusted enough to say that stuff to."
"Still am?" he asked, voice quieter now.
You met his eyes. the tension between you felt alive, humming under the surface. "yeah. still you."
The silence stretched comfortably. Jay eventually stood up. he grabbed another blanket and tossed it over you before settling back down — closer this time, so your legs were almost touching.
"Remember when we first became friends?" he asked suddenly, staring at the ceiling. "you used to sit there during lunch, pretending you weren't listening to me play. i thought you were cute. shy, but cute."
Your heart fluttered. "i had the biggest crush on you for like… two years before i even admitted it to myself."
Jay turned his head to look at you, surprise flickering across his face for a split second before that cool mask returned. "Yeah?"
"Yeah" you whispered, the alcohol making you honest. "but you were always so… you. cool. talented. out of reach. so i settled for being your best friend instead."
He didn't answer right away. instead, he reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch lingered.
"You're not out of reach to me" he said softly.
The words hung heavy in the air. your body felt warm all over — from the drinks, from his proximity, from years of wanting.
You turned onto your side to face him better, the blanket slipping down slightly.
"Jay… can i ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Have you ever… thought about me like that? more than just a friend?"
He was quiet for a long moment, dark eyes studying your face. then he gave you that half-smirk again, the one that made your knees weak.
"I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight."
You laughed, but there was nervous excitement bubbling inside you. "coward."
"Maybe" he said, chuckling. "or maybe i'm just responsible. one of us has to be when the other is this tipsy."
You spent the next hour talking like that — about old memories, stupid fights you had in high school, the group chats with Heeseung and Jake that always got chaotic, how weird it felt to be actual adults now.
Eventually, you both were in bed under thin blankets.
Jay's voice was low and soothing. every once in a while his hand would brush your arm, casual touches that felt anything but.
At some point you shifted, and your head ended up resting against his chest.
He didn't push you away. instead, his arm came around you, holding you loosely.
"You're warm" you mumbled sleepily, the alcohol finally catching up to you fully.
"So are you" he replied, voice barely above a whisper.
Your mind kept drifting back to filthy places even as sleep pulled at you — imagining sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts, tasting his skin, hearing him say your name in that deep tone.
But for now, you let yourself enjoy the closeness. the safety.
Jay's fingers traced slow patterns on your back through the t-shirt.
"Get some sleep" he murmured against the top of your head. "we'll talk more in the morning. when you're sober."
You nodded, eyes already closing.
But even as you drifted off, safe in his arms in the soft golden light of his room, you knew one thing for certain:
Pretending was getting harder and harder.
You lay there for what felt like forever, curled against his side under the soft blanket, but sleep refused to come.
The alcohol had loosened your body, but your mind was wide awake, buzzing with years of suppressed feelings and the heavy warmth of Jay's arm draped loosely around you.
Every small shift of his body, every steady breath he took, made your skin prickle with awareness.
Jay wasn't sleeping either. you knew him too well — he never could fully relax until he knew you were safe and asleep. it was one of those quiet protective habits he'd had since high school.
With a soft sigh, you sat up slowly, the oversized t-shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder. you stayed close, your thigh still pressed against his.
Jay shifted beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. his dark hair was slightly messy, and his eyes scanned your face with that familiar sharpness.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly.
You shook your head. "too many thoughts."
He hummed in understanding but didn't push. for a moment, comfortable silence settled between you again. then you spoke, the alcohol still giving you just enough courage.
"You know… i doubt Jake would've randomly told you about Sunghoon unless you asked him first." you turned your head to look at him directly. "so why the curiosity, Jay?"
Jay let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling for a second. when he looked back at you, his expression was calm but serious.
"Because you're my best friend" he said simply. "it's my job to look out for you. to make sure no dickhead hurts you, gets your hopes up, or leaves you feeling like shit afterward. i've been doing that since we were in secondary school. nothing's changed."
You fell quiet, processing his words.
The weight of them sat heavy in your chest. his protection had always felt safe… but lately it felt like something more. something that made your stomach twist in confusing, needy ways.
Jay noticed your silence. he tilted his head slightly. "why are you thinking about all of this right now? you know i worry about you. that's not new."
You bit your lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "i guess… i've been wondering lately if i've ever mistaken your protection for something else. like… possessiveness."
Jay stared at you for a beat, then let out a low, genuine laugh — the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
He sat up fully now, swinging his legs so he was facing you directly. the movement brought him much closer, your knees nearly touching, his presence suddenly filling your space.
"Possessiveness?" he repeated, still chuckling in disbelief. "you're way too drunk to be throwing words like that around."
You met his gaze, your heart beating faster. "i'm drunk, but i'm sober enough to notice that you're the one acting weird tonight."
Jay laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head. "me? weird?"
He leaned in a little, voice dropping. "you're the one whose breathing keeps changing every time i get close. the one who keeps pressing your thighs together when my hand brushes your arm or when i fix your posture during lessons. you think i don't notice?"
Your mouth went dry. heat flooded your cheeks.
He was right — painfully right. you'd been doing exactly that for the past two months during every guitar session. and tonight, with the alcohol stripping away your filters, it was impossible to hide.
You stayed silent for a long moment, just looking at him. then you put on that fake-innocent expression you knew he could see right through — wide eyes, slight tilt of your head.
"If you know all of that… why don't you do anything about it?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. Jay's smirk faded into something more intense, more focused. his dark eyes searched yours carefully.
"Because i'd never do anything you haven't asked for" he said, voice low and steady. "not with you. never."
Your face grew hotter. you could feel the blush spreading down your neck.
The tension in the room thickened, wrapping around both of you. you were hyper-aware of everything: the way his bare arm looked under the golden light, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the laundry detergent on the t-shirt he was wearing, how close his mouth was if you just leaned forward a few inches.
You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "and if i did ask… would you give it to me?"
Jay didn't answer with words right away.
Instead, he reached out slowly, his fingers gently brushing your hair away from your face before tucking it carefully behind your ear.
The touch was light, but it sent electricity racing across your skin. His hand lingered there for a second, thumb grazing your cheekbone.
Then he nodded. once. slow and deliberate.
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
The simple gesture and that quiet confirmation made your stomach flip violently.
In your mind, the thoughts rushed in unfiltered — filthy, desperate images of his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, finally giving in to what you'd wanted for years. but you stayed still, letting the tension stretch.
Jay's eyes stayed locked on yours, calm but burning with something deeper. he didn't move closer or pull away. he just waited, giving you the space to decide what came next.
"You're really going to make me say it out loud, huh?" you murmured, a nervous little smile tugging at your lips.
He smirked again, that trademark Jay confidence returning. "i'm not assuming anything with you. i've known you too long. if this is what you want, you're going to have to be clear."
You let out a shaky breath, shifting slightly on the bed.
Your thigh pressed more firmly against his. neither of you moved away.
"I've wanted this for so long" you admitted quietly, the alcohol and years of repression loosening your tongue.
"Not just tonight. since we were in high school. every time you taught me guitar… every time we'd end up here talking until 3 a.m.… it's been driving me crazy."
Jay listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable but his body language open.
He moved one hand on the bed near your leg, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You hid it well" he said eventually, voice rougher than before. "most of the time."
"Guess i'm not hiding it anymore."
He chuckled softly. "No. you're really not."
Another stretch of heavy silence. your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second before flicking back up. Jay noticed, of course.
He always noticed.
"You're nervous" he observed, not teasing this time. just stating it. "your pulse is going crazy right here." his fingers lightly touched the side of your neck, feeling your heartbeat.
You didn't deny it. instead, you leaned into his touch just slightly.
"I'm nervous because it's you" you whispered. "because if we do this… it changes everything."
Jay's thumb brushed slowly along your jaw. "it doesn't have to. not unless we want it to."
His words were careful, responsible — so typically Jay.
Even now, when the air between you crackled with years of built-up desire, he was still thinking about protecting what you had. it only made you want him more.
You stayed like that for a while longer, talking in low voices.
Every small movement — your fingers brushing his arm — felt loaded.
The tension was thick enough to taste. your body ached with it, a deep, warm need that had been growing for years, sharpened by every guitar lesson, every late-night conversation, every moment you'd spent pretending.
But still, you didn't cross the line. not yet.
The silence between you stretched, thick and electric. your heart hammered so hard you were sure he could hear it.
The soft lighting in Jay's room wrapped around both of you like a secret, making every small movement feel heavier than it should.
You shifted closer on the bed, moving until you were on your knees beside him.
Jay was leaning back against the pillows in a way that left space — deliberate space. if you wanted to climb on him, kiss him, do anything… he wouldn't pull away. his dark eyes followed you calmly, patient as always.
"You don't have to feel any pressure" he said quietly, voice low and steady. "even Heeseung and Jake noticed. they've been telling me for weeks how obviously into me you are. i couldn't exactly deny feeling it too… but i didn't want to make things weird between us."
His honesty hit you hard. you leaned in slowly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a second. his skin was warm under your lips.
"I don't want things to get uncomfortable either" you whispered against his cheek. "if we do this… if something happens… i promise i can pretend it never did. until we figure out how we really feel. no pressure on you either.”
Jay nodded once, then shifted back until he was leaning against the headboard of his bed.
The blankets were rumpled around you both.
You hesitated only a moment longer before swinging one leg over his lap and settling yourself straddling him.
The oversized t-shirt you wore rode up your thighs slightly as you sat down. Jay's hands came up naturally to rest on your waist — steady, supportive, but respectful.
His fingers didn't wander lower. he simply held you there, giving you balance without pushing for more.
For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. you were both breathing a little heavier. your hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under the thin fabric of his shirt.
You traced small, nervous circles with your fingertips, exploring the firm muscle you'd stared at so many times during those guitar lessons.
Jay watched you closely, that cool, observant expression still on his face even now.
"You've been thinking about this for a long time, haven't you?" he murmured.
You nodded, biting your lip. your hands slid slowly up his chest to his shoulders, then back down again, feeling the warmth of him through the shirt. "yeah… especially during those lessons. every time you sat behind me… every time your hands were on mine…"
You leaned forward and kissed his other cheek, then the corner of his jaw. your fingers kept moving, sliding over his collarbones, down his arms, learning the shape of him like you'd wanted to for years.
Jay's grip on your waist tightened just slightly — not enough to control, just enough to show he was affected.
"You have no idea how hard it's been keeping my hands where they belong during those lessons" he said, voice dropping lower, a little rougher around the edges.
"Sitting that close to you, feeling you react every time i touch your fingers… knowing you're getting wet just from that. it's been driving me fucking crazy too."
Your breath hitched at his words. the slight dirty edge to them — so rare from him — sent heat rushing through your whole body. you pressed your palms flat against his chest again, feeling how his breathing had changed.
"I want you to teach me what good sex feels like, Jay" you finally whispered, the words spilling out shy but honest.
Your face burned as you said it, but you didn't look away.
Jay's eyes darkened, but he still held himself back. his thumbs brushed slow, soothing circles on your waist over the t-shirt.
"You're sure?" he asked, even now checking. "we can stop anytime. this doesn't change anything if you don't want it to."
"I'm sure" you breathed.
You leaned in and finally kissed him properly.
The first kiss was soft — tentative, testing.
His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle against yours. then you tilted your head a little more, deepening it, and Jay responded with a low hum that vibrated through his chest.
One of his hands stayed firmly on your waist while the other came up to cup the back of your neck, not pulling, just supporting.
You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring it. your hands grew bolder, sliding under the hem of his shirt to touch bare skin.
You traced the lines of his abs, feeling the way his stomach tensed under your fingertips. Jay let out a quiet breath against your mouth when your nails grazed lightly over his skin.
"Fuck..." he muttered between kisses, voice husky. "you've been holding back a lot, haven't you? all those times you sat in this room acting innocent while your mind was somewhere filthy…"
You smiled shyly against his lips, still that mix of timid and needy. "Maybe."
Your hands kept exploring — running up his back, feeling the muscle there, then back to his chest.
You could feel how hard his heart was beating. you shifted slightly in his lap, not grinding, just adjusting closer, and Jay's fingers flexed on your waist.
He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours carefully. when you pulled back for air, he rested his forehead against yours.
"You're shaking" he observed quietly, always noticing everything. "still nervous?"
"A little" you admitted, your fingers still tracing patterns on his chest under his shirt. "but i want this. i've wanted it for so long."
Jay's hand slid up your back in a slow, comforting stroke. "then we take it slow. i'm not rushing anything with you."
His voice dropped again, that slight dirty tone returning. "even if i've thought about bending you over that guitar stool more times than i should admit."
Your face flushed hot. you kissed him again to hide your embarrassment, hands cupping his face now.
The kiss grew heavier, more urgent, but Jay kept control — never letting his hands move lower than your waist, never pushing your hips down against him.
You broke the kiss and pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in as your fingers continued their slow exploration of his torso.
You could feel him getting hard beneath you, but he made no move to do anything about it.
"Tell me what you've thought about" you whispered against his skin, shy but curious.
Jay let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "you really want to hear that right now?"
You nodded, kissing his neck softly.
He exhaled slowly. "a lot of nights after you left these lessons… i thought about how pretty you look when you're concentrated. how your breathing changes when i get close. thought about what sounds you'd make if i finally touched you properly instead of pretending it was just about guitar chords."
Your thighs squeezed instinctively around his hips. Jay noticed but didn't comment on it, just kept talking in that low, controlled voice.
"I've wondered how you'd taste" he added, almost casually. "how you'd look sitting on my lap like this, trying so hard to stay quiet because your brothers might hear if we were at your house."
You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening on his shoulders.
The tension was almost unbearable now — heavy, aching, delicious. you kissed him again, deeper, your body pressing closer against his chest while your hands roamed freely under his shirt.
Jay kissed you back with the same measured intensity, one hand still steady on your waist, the other gently threading through your hair. he was hard beneath you, you could feel it clearly, but he remained the same Jay — cool-headed, teasing even now.
"You're going to kill me if you keep touching me like that" he murmured against your lips, a hint of a smirk in his voice. "those hands have been driving me insane for months."
You smiled, a little breathless, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "good. because you've been doing the same to me every single lesson."
The two of you stayed like that for a long time — kissing slowly, touching carefully, talking in low voices between heated moments.
The world outside felt far away. years of friendship and hidden desire were finally cracking open, but still slowly, still safely.
Jay pulled back after one particularly long kiss, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.
"Still okay?" he asked, eyes searching yours.
You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again.
Neither of you were ready to stop yet. the night was young, the tension was perfect, and for the first time, you weren't pretending anymore.
You kept kissing him, deeper now, with a hunger that surprised even you. despite the innocent, pure look on your face — wide eyes, flushed cheeks — any shyness had melted away under the heat of the alcohol and years of built-up need.
Your hands moved with purpose, sliding down Jay's chest, over his stomach, until you boldly palmed the obvious bulge straining against his gray pajama shorts.
Jay let out a sharp breath against your mouth, then another low sigh as your fingers rubbed him slowly through the fabric. je was hard, thick, and warm under your touch. you didn't hesitate, stroking him with more confidence, feeling him twitch under your palm.
"Fuck…" he muttered between kisses, his voice rougher.
He finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies.
There you were — straddling him, hand shamelessly rubbing his erection right beneath where you sat. his dark eyes darkened further.
"You're not playing around tonight, huh?" he said, voice low and slightly amused, but clearly affected.
You leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear, your voice needy and breathless. "i need you so bad right now, Jay… please. i want you to fuck me."
Jay let out a short, surprised laugh, the sound husky. "then take all your clothes off" he said, half-joking, half-challenging, that signature teasing tone still there even now.
But you were too far gone.
Without hesitation, you sat back on his thighs and pulled the oversized t-shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. then you lifted your hips and slid the pajama shorts down your legs, kicking them aside until you were left in just your panties.
Your skin felt hot under his gaze.
Jay cursed under his breath — a low, impressed "shit…" — as his eyes raked over your body. his hands stayed respectful on your waist for a moment longer before he helped steady you.
"Come here" he murmured, pulling you back onto his lap properly.
The kissing resumed, hotter this time.
Your hand returned to stroking him through his shorts while his mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck.
He sucked lightly on your skin, not enough to leave marks yet, but enough to make you whimper softly.
You ground against his bulge slowly, feeling the friction through the thin layers separating you. Jay's breathing grew heavier, his hands finally sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.
"You've been hiding this body from me during all those lessons?" he said against your neck, voice low and a little dirty. "sitting there acting all innocent while i was trying not to think about how you'd look like this… straddling me, touching my cock like you own it."
You moaned softly at his words, your hand squeezing him firmer. "i thought about it every time."
Jay kissed you hard again, then shifted both of you. he moved you off his lap gently and stood up, quickly pulling his own shirt off and dropping his shorts.
His cock sprang free — hard, flushed, and bigger than you'd imagined in your filthiest thoughts. he was smooth, well-kept, the head already glistening.
He sat back down against the headboard and pulled you back on top, but this time he guided you into a different position.
He turned you so you were facing away from him, your back to his chest, straddling his lap in reverse.
"Like this" he said quietly, voice steady but thick with want. "i want to feel you."
His hands settled on your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself.
He didn't enter you yet — instead, he pulled your panties to the side and slid his cock between your folds, letting you grind along his length. the heat of him against your wet pussy made you gasp.
You leaned back against his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while his other hand reached down to rub slow circles on your clit.
His mouth was right by your ear, breathing warm against it.
"Slow" he reminded you, always in some control. "we've got all night."
You rocked your hips, sliding along his cock, coating him with how wet you were.
Jay groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your back. he kept rubbing your clit with practiced fingers, occasionally squeezing your breast with his free hand, rolling your nipple gently.
"Feel how hard you made me?" he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "all those guitar lessons… you sitting between my legs, biting your lip every time i touched you. i wanted to pull you back against me just like this."
You moaned, moving faster against him. Jay adjusted his grip, lifting you slightly before finally guiding the head of his cock to your entrance.
"Ready?" he asked, checking one last time.
"Yes" you breathed.
He lowered you slowly onto him, inch by inch.
The stretch was perfect — full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.
When he bottomed out, both of you let out shaky breaths. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, his arm tight around your waist, the other hand still between your legs rubbing your clit.
Then he started moving.
He thrust up into you in a steady rhythm, deep and controlled.
You braced your hands on his thighs, leaning forward slightly as you rode him in reverse, matching his pace.
The position let him hit deep with every roll of his hips, his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you.
Jay's breathing was ragged now, but his voice stayed low near your ear. "that's it… just like that. you feel so fucking good."
His hand on your clit never stopped, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
The other hand gripped your hip, guiding you down onto him harder.
The sound of skin meeting skin filled the warm room, mixed with your soft moans and his occasional low groans.
You leaned further forward, hands on his knees for leverage, bouncing on his cock while he thrust up to meet you. Jay cursed again, the view from behind clearly affecting him.
"Look at you" he said, voice strained but still teasing. "taking me so well after wanting it for years…"
The pleasure built fast — the angle, his fingers on your clit, the deep thrusts.
Your thighs started trembling. Jay noticed, as always, and wrapped his arm tighter around you, holding you close as he fucked you through it.
Your back arching against his chest, a broken moan leaving your lips. Jay kept moving, slower now, drawing it out, murmuring quiet praise against your neck.
He didn't stop completely. after you caught your breath, he guided you to lean all the way forward, chest almost to the bed, still connected.
He sat up straighter behind you, hands on your hips as he thrust deeper, faster, chasing his own release.
The position was intense — you face down, ass up, Jay behind you thrusting with controlled power. his hands roamed your back, occasionally gripping your hair lightly to pull you back against him.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight" he groaned.
You pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. Jay's pace grew more urgent, but he never lost that cool edge — always making sure you were okay, his hands soothing even as he fucked you harder.
You kept moving on him, rolling your hips in a slow, needy rhythm as you rode Jay in reverse.
Your back was pressed against his chest, his cock buried deep inside you with every downward motion.
The stretch felt incredible, and the position let you feel every inch of him. your hands gripped his thighs for balance while his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, the other hand still teasing your clit with slow, deliberate circles.
But Jay had other plans.
His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly but not harshly.
With a low murmur against your ear — "let me take over for a bit" — he guided you forward. you leaned down, hands bracing on the bed as he smoothly shifted your body off his lap and onto all fours. the transition was fluid, his cock slipping out for just a second before he positioned himself behind you.
Your hips stayed high, ass up, while your chest and face pressed down into the mattress.
The soft sheets muffled your heavy breathing as Jay knelt behind you.
He reached forward, gathering both of your arms gently but decisively, pulling them behind your lower back. he held your wrists together with one hand, limiting your movement without being overly restrictive.
His grip was secure, controlling, but still careful — classic Jay.
"Fuck… Jay…" you moaned loudly, the sound shameless and needy.
Your voice echoed in the warm room, much louder than you'd ever been with anyone else. "it feels so deep like this…"
He rubbed the head of his cock along your soaked folds for a moment, teasing, before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust.
You cried out, face buried in the mattress as your ass stayed arched high for him.
Jay started moving — deep and fast, but not brutal.
Each thrust was powerful and controlled, hitting that perfect spot inside you with precision. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, steady and rhythmic.
"Shit, listen to you" he said, voice low and slightly amused even now.
"You're so loud tonight. all those years pretending to be shy during our lessons… and now you're moaning like this with your face in my bed."
You whimpered loudly in response, unable to hold back. "i can't help it… you're so deep— ahh!" another loud moan tore from your throat as he thrust particularly deep, holding it there for a second before resuming his pace.
Jay kept your wrists pinned at your lower back with one hand while his other hand reached up and gathered your hair.
He didn't yank it — he simply held it firmly, using it as leverage to keep your head down against the mattress while he fucked you. the gentle tug on your scalp sent sparks through your body.
"That's it" he murmured, breathing heavier but still composed. "keep that ass up for me. you feel incredible like this… so wet. been thinking about this view for months every time you left my room."
Your moans grew louder, unrestrained. every deep thrust pushed a new sound out of you — high-pitched whimpers mixed with desperate gasps and full moans.
Your hips pushed back against him instinctively, meeting his rhythm as much as his grip on your wrists allowed.
"Jay— oh god, right there— fuck" you cried out, voice breaking. Your face stayed pressed into the sheets, cheek turned to the side, eyes half-closed in pleasure.
He leaned forward slightly, chest closer to your back, changing the angle just enough to make you see stars.
His thrusts never faltered — consistent, deep, fast enough to make your thighs shake but never rough enough to cross into discomfort.
"You're squeezing me so tight" he groaned near your ear, voice rough but still that familiar Jay tone — teasing underneath the lust. "all that tension from the guitar lessons finally coming out, huh?… you were this wet thinking about me fucking you like this?"
"Yes— fuck" you moaned loudly, almost sobbing into the mattress.
Your body rocked forward with each thrust, but Jay's hold on your wrists and hair kept you exactly where he wanted you. "i need more… please don't stop—"
He didn't.
He kept the pace steady, fucking you thoroughly.
Minutes passed like this — long, drawn-out, filthy minutes filled with the wet sounds of your bodies connecting and your increasingly loud moans. Jay would occasionally slow down to grind deep inside you, letting you feel every inch, before picking up speed again.
After a while, he released your wrists but only to adjust your position further.
He gently pushed your upper body fully down onto the bed, guiding you into a prone-bone angle — your hips still tilted up, legs slightly spread, chest and face pressed flat against the mattress.
He moved with you, covering your back with his chest as he slid back inside.
This new position felt even deeper. Jay's weight pressed you into the bed as he thrust down into you, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other braced beside your head for support.
"Still good?" he asked between thrusts, voice low and caring even as he fucked you harder. "tell me if it's too much."
"It's— ah... it's perfect— Jay, fuck" your voice was loud and broken, moans spilling out continuously now.
The mattress muffled some of them, but not enough. you were loud, needy, completely lost in the sensation.
Jay let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan as you clenched around him. "you're going to wake up the whole house if you keep moaning like that. not that i mind… i like hearing how much you need this."
He kept the rhythm deep and fast, hips snapping against your ass with controlled power.
The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot with every stroke. his hand in your hair kept you grounded, his lips occasionally brushing your shoulder or the back of your neck as he fucked you.
"You're doing so well" he murmured, voice husky against your ear. "my best friend moaning my name while i fuck her exactly how she needs."
"Jay— please…" you whined loudly, pushing your hips back as much as the position allowed. your hands gripped the sheets tightly, body trembling from the sustained pleasure.
He kept going, deep, fast, relentless but never rough.
Always observant — adjusting when your moans pitched higher, slowing for a few strokes when your thighs shook too much, then building the pace again.
Jay kept his steady, deep rhythm, fucking you thoroughly from behind while you stayed pressed into the mattress. your loud moans continued filling the room without filter — raw, needy, and unrestrained.
But he wasn't done changing things up.
He slowed his thrusts gradually, then pulled out carefully.
Before you could protest the sudden emptiness, he flipped you onto your back with strong but gentle hands.
You barely had time to catch your breath before he was between your legs again, spreading them wide and settling on top of you.
This time, though, he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half.
Your hips lifted off the bed as he leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours. the new angle made everything feel impossibly deeper.
"Jay— fuck—" you moaned loudly as he pushed back inside you in one smooth motion.
Your voice cracked with pleasure, eyes fluttering. "it's so deep like this… i can feel everything—"
He braced his hands on either side of your head, his dark eyes locked on your face as he started moving again. deep, fast strokes that made your breasts bounce with every thrust.
Your legs trembled over his shoulders, ankles near his ears.
Jay's expression stayed focused — that cool, controlled look mixed with clear desire.
He wasn't being rough, but the way he drove into you was relentless, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
"Look at me" he said, voice low and a little strained. "want to see your face while i fuck you."
You tried, but another loud moan tore from your throat as he ground deep inside you, rolling his hips in a way that made your toes curl. "ah— Jay, right there— don't stop—"
Your hands flew up to grip his arms, nails digging into his biceps as he held you folded beneath him.
The position left you completely exposed, hips tilted up, taking every inch of his cock with each thrust.
You were so loud now — moaning, whimpering, gasping his name repeatedly.
The sounds bounced off the walls of his warm-lit room.
Jay leaned down further, almost bending you in half, and kissed you messily.
His tongue slid against yours as he kept thrusting, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. when he pulled back, his breathing was heavier.
"You're so fucking loud tonight" he murmured against your lips, a hint of that teasing smirk appearing even now.
"I can't— ah, it feels too good—" you cried out, head falling back against the pillows.
Your face was flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. every deep thrust pushed a new moan out of you. "Jay… Jay, please— it's so much—”
He kept the pace fast and deep, hips snapping forward with controlled power.
The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot on every stroke. one of his hands moved down to rub your clit again, adding another layer of overwhelming sensation.
You were a mess beneath him — legs over his shoulders, body folded, moaning shamelessly loud with every movement.
Your hands roamed his back, scratching lightly down his skin as pleasure built higher and higher.
"Fuck, you feel perfect" Jay groaned, voice rough but still composed.
He kissed your neck, sucking lightly as he continued thrusting. "been wanting to have you like this for so long. all spread out, taking me so well… moaning my name like you can't get enough."
"I can't— i really can't—" you sobbed-moaned, voice breaking. your hips tried to move to meet his thrusts, but the position left you mostly at his mercy. "it's so deep, Jay… i'm so close already—"
He immediately slowed his pace just enough to keep you on the edge without pushing you over, drawing out the moment. His thrusts became long, deliberate strokes — pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep and grinding against you.
"Not yet" he said softly, almost teasing. "we're not done."
He changed the angle slightly, pressing your thighs further back as he leaned over you.
The new depth made you cry out even louder, your voice echoing in the room. Jay's hand stayed on your clit, rubbing slow circles while he fucked you with those deep, fast strokes.
Sweat glistened on both your bodies under the soft brown-gold lighting. Jay's hair fell messily over his forehead as he watched your face, always observant, always checking your reactions.
"Every time I hit this spot right here—" he thrust deep and ground against you to emphasize, making you moan loudly again. "—you get even wetter. you really did want this bad, didn't you?"
"Yes— god, yes— i've wanted you for years—" you gasped, voice loud and broken.
Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as another wave of pleasure washed over you, keeping you right on the edge.
Jay kept going, deep and fast, but always controlled. he would lean down to kiss you messily every so often, swallowing some of your loud moans before pulling back to watch you again.
His hand never left your clit, building the tension higher without letting it break.
After a while, he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept them spread wide. he stayed on top, chest pressed to yours in a more classic missionary, but still deep and intense.
His hips rolled against yours in a steady rhythm, grinding deep with every thrust.
"Still okay?" he asked between strokes, always the caring one even now.
"So okay— fuck, Jay, it feels amazing—" you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
The room filled with the sounds of your loud, needy moans, his low groans, and the wet rhythm of your bodies moving together.
Jay kept the pace deep and fast, drawing it out, making the pleasure last as long as possible.
He kissed your neck, your jaw, your lips — mixing tenderness with the raw intensity of how he was fucking you.
His hand occasionally slid up to hold one of your wrists above your head, not pinning hard, just keeping you in place while he drove into you.
"You sound so pretty when you're this loud" he whispered against your ear, voice rough. "moaning for your best friend like this… after all this time."
Your response was another loud, broken moan as he hit that perfect angle again.
The tension kept building, higher and higher, but Jay expertly kept you both teetering right on the edge — not letting either of you fall over just yet.
You were right on the edge.
Your body was shaking underneath Jay, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked you deep and steady. your moans had become desperate, broken cries that filled the entire room.
"Jay— i'm so close— please, i'm gonna cum—" you gasped loudly, your voice cracking with need. your nails dug into his back as the pressure built unbearably tight inside you.
But Jay suddenly slowed down, then stopped moving completely, buried to the hilt inside you. he held perfectly still, breathing heavily against your neck.
"Not yet" he murmured, voice low and composed, that teasing control still fully intact. "you're not cumming yet."
You let out a loud, frustrated whine, trying to roll your hips up desperately, but he pinned you down with his weight, refusing to give you the last bit of friction you needed.
"Jay… please…" you begged, voice needy and loud. "i was so close—"
He kissed the corner of your mouth softly, then slowly pulled out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness.
Your pussy throbbed painfully, slick and desperate.
Jay moved down your body with deliberate calmness. he spread your legs wide, settling between them on his stomach.
His dark eyes looked up at your flushed, innocent-looking face as he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you open for him.
"Since you're being so loud and impatient" he said, voice husky but still teasing, "i'm going to taste you instead. but you still don't get to cum until i say so."
Before you could respond, Jay leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your soaked folds.
You moaned loudly, back arching off the bed at the sudden intense pleasure.
"Fuck— Jay—"
He took his time, exploring you with his mouth like he had all night. his tongue moved in slow, broad strokes from your entrance up to your clit, savoring how wet you were.
Then he circled your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to keep you right on the edge without pushing you over.
You were loud — extremely loud. your moans echoed shamelessly in his warm-lit room as he ate you out.
"Oh my god— Jay… that feels so good—" you cried out, one hand flying down to grip his hair. your hips tried to buck against his face, but his strong arms kept your thighs firmly pinned down, controlling your movements.
Jay hummed against your pussy, the vibration making you whimper even louder.
He alternated between long, slow licks and focused sucking on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you. his technique was precise and confident — typical Jay, even in this.
"You taste even better than i imagined" he murmured against your wet skin, voice slightly muffled. "all those guitar lessons… and i had no idea how sweet this pretty pussy was."
You moaned brokenly, head thrown back against the pillows. "Jay— please— i need to cum so bad— i can't take it—"
He ignored your begging and continued devouring you.
His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit for a few seconds, then slowed down again, edging you mercilessly.
Every time your thighs started trembling harder and your moans pitched higher, he would pull back slightly, kissing your inner thighs or blowing cool air on your sensitive folds until the orgasm threat faded just enough.
You were a complete mess — loud, desperate, and dripping.
"Ah! Jay— your tongue feels too good—" you sobbed, voice hoarse from how much you'd been moaning. your free hand gripped the sheets tightly beside you, knuckles turning white.
Jay slid two fingers inside you slowly while his mouth focused on your clit, curling them upward to press against that sensitive spot. the combination made you cry out even louder, almost screaming his name.
"Jay— fuck— i'm so close again— please let me cum this time—"
But he pulled his fingers out and slowed his tongue once more, denying you for the third time.
You let out a loud, frustrated whimper, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes.
"Not yet" he repeated calmly, kissing your clit softly. "i want you shaking for me first."
He buried his face deeper between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue flicked rapidly.
The wet, obscene sounds of him eating you out mixed with your loud, broken moans. he kept you spread wide, completely exposed, as he worked you over with expert patience.
Minutes passed like this — long, torturous minutes of Jay's mouth on your pussy.
He would bring you right to the brink with fast, focused licks and suction, then slow down to lazy, broad strokes that kept the pleasure simmering without exploding.
Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head.
"You're dripping all over my chin" he murmured, voice low and slightly dirty. "such a messy girl tonight. and still trying so hard to be quiet when we both know you can't."
"I'm not— i can't be quiet— Jay, please—" you moaned, almost incoherently now.
He slid his fingers back inside you, fucking you slowly with them while his tongue circled your clit.
The dual sensation had you seeing stars, right on the edge once again.
Your voice was getting hoarser, your moans desperate, needy sobs as he continued edging you with his mouth for what felt like forever.
Jay between your spread legs, focused and in control, while you writhed and moaned loudly beneath his skilled tongue.
He was clearly enjoying himself, occasionally humming in satisfaction against your pussy or glancing up to watch your innocent face contort with overwhelming pleasure.
"You're doing so well holding it for me" he praised softly between licks. "just a little longer…"
Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, but Jay kept you right there — teetering, desperate, and completely at his mercy.
Now you were shaking uncontrollably, your thighs trembling around Jay's head as he continued working you with his tongue.
Jay sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue rapidly while his two fingers curled deep inside you, pressing firmly against that sensitive spot.
His dark eyes flicked up to watch your face as he pushed you over.
"Jay— fuck— i'm cumming—!" you cried out loudly, voice breaking into a high-pitched moan that echoed through the room.
The orgasm crashed over you hard.
Your back arched violently off the bed, hips jerking against his face as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body.
You moaned shamelessly loud, almost screaming his name as your pussy clenched around his fingers and flooded his tongue.
But Jay didn't stop.
He kept his mouth on you through the entire orgasm, licking and sucking gently but consistently, drawing it out and immediately pushing you toward another peak.
"Jay— oh my god, it's too much... i just came— ah" you wailed, one hand gripping his hair tightly while the other twisted in the sheets. your legs shook uncontrollably around his shoulders.
He hummed against your pussy, the vibration sending aftershocks through you.
"I know" he murmured, voice low and slightly smug against your wet folds. "but you sound too pretty when you're falling apart. i'm not done with you yet."
He continued eating you out with focused determination — slow, broad licks mixed with quick flicks on your oversensitive clit.
His fingers kept moving inside you, curling and thrusting steadily. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your dripping pussy filled the room alongside your loud, hoarse moans.
After several long minutes of this delicious torture, Jay finally pulled his mouth away, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.
He looked up at your flushed, wrecked face with that signature cool smirk.
"On your stomach again." he said quietly, voice rough with want.
You barely had the strength to move, but he helped you, flipping you onto your belly with strong, careful hands.
He pulled your hips up so you were in doggy again — ass high, chest and face pressed down into the mattress, exactly how he liked you.
Jay knelt behind you and rubbed his hard cock along your soaked folds before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust. you moaned into the sheets as he filled you again.
"Jay— nggh—"
He started fucking you again with those perfect deep and fast strokes, his hips snapping against your ass.
One hand gripped your hip firmly while the other slid up your back. Then you felt it — his thumb circling your tight rim teasingly before slowly pressing inside.
The dual sensation — his thick cock stretching your pussy while his thumb gently worked inside your ass — was overwhelming.
"Shit... Jay" your body trembled as he pushed his thumb deeper, moving it in slow, careful thrusts in time with his cock.
"Relax for me" he murmured, voice low and steady even as he fucked you harder. "just a little. i've got you."
He kept the pace deep and rhythmic, cock driving into your pussy while his thumb gently fucked your ass.
The feeling was intense but not painful — just enough stretch and fullness to make your loud moans turn even more desperate.
You were a wreck — face down, ass up, moaning shamelessly loud with every thrust. Jay's free hand reached around to rub your clit again, pushing you toward another orgasm while he continued the double stimulation.
"Listen to how loud you are" he said, voice husky with arousal but still teasing. "you love this, don't you?"
"Yes... ngf... fuck yes, i love it—" you cried out, pushing back against him desperately. "don't stop... please."
Jay kept going, deep and controlled.
His cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot with every thrust while his thumb moved gently inside you, stretching you just enough to heighten everything.
The room was filled with the wet sounds of sex, skin slapping skin, and your continuous loud moans.
He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he fucked you, his mouth close to your ear.
"You're squeezing me so fucking tight" he groaned softly. "both holes. such a greedy girl tonight."
You could only moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure.
Jay's rhythm never faltered — deep, fast strokes in your pussy, steady movements of his thumb in your ass, and his fingers still working your clit.
He kept you right on the edge of another orgasm, drawing it out just like before.
After several long, intense minutes, he pulled his thumb out carefully and focused entirely on fucking you deep from behind, both hands gripping your hips as he drove into you with powerful, controlled thrusts.
Jay leaned down again, kissing the back of your neck as he continued fucking you thoroughly.
"You're doing so well" he said quietly, voice warm despite how hard he was driving into you. "taking me so deep… being so loud for me. my perfect girl."
He kept the pace going, switching between deep grinding and faster thrusts, always keeping you full and stimulated.
He gripped your hips tighter and drove into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked, sensitive pussy with wet, obscene sounds.
"Jay, fuck... it's too much—" you cried out, voice breaking as he hit that perfect spot over and over.
He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back, and wrapped one arm around your waist to hold you in place. his other hand slid up to grip your shoulder, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust.
"You can take it" he murmured against your ear, voice rough and low. "you've been waiting years for this. take it like a good girl for me."
Then he shifted again, pushing your upper body fully down while keeping your hips raised.
The weight of him on top of you again, the way his cock drove so deep at this angle, had you moaning loudly into the sheets, almost sobbing with overstimulation and pleasure.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of him fucking you thoroughly, Jay's breathing became more ragged. his thrusts grew faster, more desperate.
This was exactly how he needed it.
He fucked you harder, hips snapping against your ass with urgent, almost frantic strokes.
His cock drove deep inside you with every thrust, the angle letting him hit as deep as possible. his breathing was heavy and labored against the back of your neck.
"Fuck— i'm close—" he groaned, voice strained for the first time that night. "you feel too good… i can't hold it anymore."
You moaned loudly in response, pushing your ass back against him as much as you could. "cum inside me, i want to feel you—"
That seemed to break the last bit of his control.
Jay's thrusts became erratic and desperate. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other gripping the sheets beside your head.
His hips slammed against you faster, chasing his release with raw need.
"Shit— fuck" he growled, voice breaking as the pleasure overtook him.
With a deep, guttural groan that vibrated against your skin, Jay buried himself as deep as possible inside you and came hard.
His cock pulsed strongly, releasing thick, warm spurts of cum deep into your pussy.
His hips stuttered and jerked against your ass as he rode out the intense orgasm, grinding deep to push every drop inside you.
He kept thrusting weakly through his climax, desperate and almost whimpering against your neck as the pleasure overwhelmed him.
His body trembled on top of yours, muscles tense, breathing ragged and hot against your skin.
He stayed pressed against you, hips twitching, making sure you took every single drop.
The desperation in his movements — the way he held you so tightly, the broken groans, the way he couldn't stop moving even after he started cumming — was raw and intense. years of tension finally snapping in that exact moment.
He stayed inside you for a long time afterward, breathing heavily, body still covering yours completely as the last aftershocks ran through him.
His cock continued to twitch inside your cum-filled pussy, making you whimper softly at the overstimulation.
The room was quiet now except for both of your heavy breathing. Jay's warm, sweaty body remained pressed against your back, his face hidden in your neck as he tried to catch his breath.
No words yet.
Just the heavy, satisfied silence and the feeling of him still deep inside you, having cum exactly where he needed to — deep, desperate, and completely lost in the moment.
The room felt quieter than it had all night.
You stayed there — face down, body spent and trembling — trying to process the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.
The pleasure was still echoing through your limbs, but something deeper was settling in. something terrifying and warm at the same time.
Jay finally let out a long, shaky breath.
He pressed a slow, almost hesitant kiss to the back of your shoulder before carefully pulling out of you.
The loss of him made you whimper softly. you felt empty.
Exposed. raw.
He rolled off you and lay on his side, facing you.
For a few seconds, he just looked at you — dark eyes searching your face with that familiar intensity. his hair was messy, lips slightly swollen, skin glistening with sweat under the soft brown-gold lighting.
He looked beautiful. and suddenly, painfully real.
You turned your head to face him, cheek still pressed against the bed.
Your heart was doing something complicated in your chest.
"Jay…" you whispered, voice hoarse from how loudly you'd been moaning.
He reached out and gently brushed damp strands of hair away from your face. his touch was careful now, almost reverent.
"Yeah?" he answered quietly. his voice was lower than usual, a little rough.
You didn't know what to say. there were too many things at once.
I just slept with my best friend.
I let him cum inside me.
I've been in love with you for years and now i'm scared.
Instead of speaking, you shifted closer and tucked yourself against his chest.
Jay didn't hesitate — he wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you in.
One hand rubbed slow circles on your bare back while the other rested at the nape of your neck.
The silence stretched again, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was heavy.
"I…" you started, then stopped.
Your fingers traced small patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly begin to calm. "i don't know what to say right now."
Jay let out a soft breath that was almost a chuckle. "me neither."
He tilted his head down to look at you.
His expression was calm on the surface, but you knew him too well. there was something vulnerable behind his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked. the question was simple, but the way he asked it — gentle, serious — made your chest tighten.
You nodded against him. "yeah. just… a lot."
He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, voice low. "i know. for me too."
You pulled back slightly so you could see his face better. "did you… want this? like, really want it? or did i just—"
Jay cut you off by pressing his forehead against yours.
"I wanted it" he said firmly. "i've wanted it for longer than i probably should admit. but i never let myself think about it too much because… you're you. my best friend. the one person i didn't want to risk losing."
Your eyes stung a little.
You swallowed hard.
"I've been in love with you since second year" you confessed in a whisper. the words felt scary to say out loud, but after everything that had just happened, they also felt necessary.
"Not just… wanting you. loving you. for years. and tonight i just… i couldn't pretend anymore."
Jay's hand stilled on your back for a second. then he pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin.
"I figured" he murmured. "i'm not blind. the way you looked at me during those guitar lessons… how you'd get quiet sometimes. i noticed. i just didn't know if acting on it would fuck everything up."
You let out a shaky laugh. "and now?"
He was quiet for a long time. his fingers resumed their slow movement on your back.
"Now i don't know" he admitted honestly. "but i don't regret it. not even a little." he paused. "do you?"
You shook your head quickly. "no. God, no. it felt… right. even if it was intense. even if i was so loud i probably woke up your neighbors."
Jay chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest.
The familiar teasing tone returned just a bit. "you were really loud. i didn't know you had that in you."
You hid your face in his neck, embarrassed but smiling. "shut up. you were the one edging me for like an hour."
He laughed again, but it faded into something softer. his arms tightened around you.
"I just… i needed to know you really wanted it" he said quietly. "all of it. not just because you were drunk or horny. i needed to hear you fall apart for me."
You stayed silent, absorbing his words.
The vulnerability in his voice was rare. Jay was always the cool one, the one who had everything under control. hearing him admit that he'd been holding back too made something warm bloom in your chest.
"I've never felt like that with anyone else" you whispered. "not even close. it wasn't just sex, Jay. it was you."
He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding that breath for a long time.
"Yeah" he said finally. "same here."
The two of you stayed tangled together like that for a while.
You traced a finger along his collarbone. "are you scared?" you asked softly.
Jay was quiet for a few seconds.
"A little" he admitted. "i don't want to lose what we have. the friendship. the late nights. the stupid arguments about music. you're important to me. really fucking important."
You nodded, throat tight. "me too. but… i also don't think i can go back to pretending i don't feel this way."
He tilted your chin up gently so you were looking at him. his dark eyes were serious, but there was warmth there too.
"Then we don't pretend" he said. "we figure it out. slowly. no pressure. you're still my best friend first. everything else… we'll see."
You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they were different. not sad. just overwhelmed.
Jay noticed immediately. he wiped the corner of your eye with his thumb.
"Hey" he said softly, that teasing smirk returning just a fraction. "don't cry on me now. i just made you cum so hard you almost forgot your own name. this is supposed to be a victory lap."
You laughed wetly and shoved his chest lightly. "you're such an asshole."
"Your asshole" he corrected, smirking.
The joke helped. it reminded you that even after everything, he was still Jay.
Your Jay.
You snuggled closer again, legs tangling with his. His hand resumed rubbing your back, soothing and steady.
The emotional weight of the night settled over both of you — the relief, the fear, the hope, the deep affection that had always been there underneath the tension.
It wasn't simple. it wasn't clean. but it was real.
Jay held you tighter, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.
"Get some sleep" he murmured eventually, voice soft. "we'll talk more in the morning. when your brain isn't fried from all the orgasms i gave you."
You smiled against his skin. "cocky."
"Accurate" he replied.
Even in the emotional aftermath, the teasing remained. it felt safe. familiar.
As your eyes grew heavier, wrapped in his arms in the warm glow of his room, you realized something important:
Whatever happened next — whether this became something more or complicated everything — you didn't regret a single second.
And from the way Jay's fingers kept tracing gentle patterns on your skin long after you thought he'd fallen asleep, you suspected he didn't either.
summary. jungkook gets irritated, says something he doesn’t mean, and spends the next twenty minutes pretending he doesn’t care that you’re upset. unfortunately for him, he’s physically incapable of staying away from you for too long.
pairing. boyfriend!jungkook x fem!reader
content / warnings. arguing, fluff/comfort, pouty jk, lots of touching, soft domestic vibes, clingy jungkook agenda, no toxic behavior, no y/n, one forehead kiss that changes lives
w.c. 2.9k
a/n: GUYS I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO FORMAT IMAGESSSS anyways please enjoy and show this fic some lovee
“You’re not even listening to me.”
“I am listening.”
“No, Jungkook, you’re nodding and saying ‘mhm’ every five seconds.”
Another distracted “mhm” left him immediately after.
You stared at him in disbelief.
He sat cross-legged on the couch with his laptop balanced against one thigh, brows furrowed in concentration while editing something for work. The glow from the screen reflected against his face softly, highlighting the small pout sitting naturally on his lips.
Pretty.
Annoyingly pretty considering he was irritating you right now.
“See?” you snapped. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
That finally got his attention.
Jungkook blinked up at you slowly before pushing his headphones down around his neck.
“What?”
Your mouth fell open.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I literally asked what happened.”
“Because you haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said for the past ten minutes!”
He frowned immediately.
“I heard you.”
“Okay then,” you crossed your arms, “what was I talking about?”
Silence.
Jungkook’s eyes darted briefly away from yours.
“…your friend?”
You laughed once.
Not happily.
“Oh my god.”
“Baby—”
“No, it’s fine.”
That phrase again.
The one that never actually meant fine.
Jungkook sighed quietly, shutting his laptop halfway. “I’m working.”
“And I know that,” you replied frustratedly. “But you could at least pretend to care while I’m talking to you.”
“I do care.”
“Then act like it.”
The apartment went quiet after that.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
Your tea sat forgotten on the coffee table.
Jungkook rubbed tiredly at his eyes before leaning back against the couch cushions.
Normally he would’ve reached for you already.
Normally the second your tone changed, his hands would find your waist automatically, pulling you between his legs until you softened.
Not this time.
“I’ve had the worst day,” he muttered, irritation slipping into his voice finally. “Can we not fight right now?”
Your frustration cracked immediately into hurt.
“I wasn’t trying to fight with you.”
“Well, it feels like it.”
The words came out sharper than he intended.
You could tell instantly by the way his expression changed afterwards.
But instead of apologizing, Jungkook only sighed again and dragged a hand through his hair tiredly.
And somehow that made it worse.
Because it felt dismissive.
Like your feelings were just another thing exhausting him tonight.
You grabbed your phone from beside you quickly before standing up from the couch.
“Forget it.”
Jungkook looked up immediately. “Where are you going?”
“To the bedroom.”
“Why?”
You blinked at him.
“Seriously?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like I committed a crime because I’m tired.”
Your chest tightened.
“I’m acting like my boyfriend ignored me all night.”
“I’m sitting right here.”
“Physically, yes.”
Wrong answer.
Jungkook’s expression hardened instantly, frustration flashing properly across his face now.
“You know what?” he muttered, pushing his laptop aside fully. “I don’t understand why everything has to become a whole thing.”
Your eyebrows lifted.
“A whole thing?”
“Yeah.” He stood up now too, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I said I’m tired. I’ve been working since this morning. I just wanted one quiet night.”
The implication stung immediately.
“Oh,” you laughed softly. “So talking to me is exhausting now?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.”
Jungkook groaned quietly in frustration, turning away for a second before looking back at you again.
“You’re twisting my words.”
“And you’re being mean.”
That stopped him.
Only for a second.
But still.
His expression faltered slightly before irritation covered it again.
“I’m not being mean.”
“You kinda are.”
Silence stretched between you both after that.
Heavy.
Not screaming-match heavy.
Not relationship-ending heavy.
Just sad.
The kind of argument built from exhaustion and misunderstandings and two people loving each other while communicating terribly for twenty minutes straight.
You suddenly felt stupid for bringing anything up at all.
Jungkook looked tired.
You looked emotional.
Everything felt annoying now.
So instead of continuing the conversation, you shook your head once and stepped around the coffee table.
“Whatever,” you mumbled. “I’m gonna shower.”
You made it exactly three steps.
“Fine.”
The word came from behind you instantly.
Cold.
Short.
Irritated.
Your shoulders dropped.
You waited a second longer than necessary before continuing toward the hallway anyway.
One step.
Two.
Then—
“Seriously?”
You stopped walking again, annoyance flaring instantly.
“What now?”
Jungkook stood beside the couch with crossed arms now, watching you with a frustrated expression.
“You’re seriously just gonna walk away?”
You stared at him.
“You literally said fine.”
“Yeah because you keep doing this thing where you leave in the middle of conversations.”
“Because you’re being annoying!”
“And you’re dramatic!”
A shocked laugh escaped you immediately.
“Me?”
“Yes, you!”
“You started this!”
“No, you started this when you got mad over literally nothing.”
Your mouth fell open.
“Nothing?”
Jungkook ran both hands through his hair aggressively before exhaling hard through his nose.
“Okay, no, see— now I’m getting irritated again.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again.”
“You were already irritated!”
“I know!”
The silence afterwards almost felt ridiculous.
Both of you breathing hard.
Both annoyed.
Both stubborn.
Then suddenly Jungkook looked away first with a muttered curse under his breath.
Your anger softened immediately at the sight.
Because he looked less angry now and more… frustrated with himself.
His shoulders slumped slightly.
One hand rubbed across his mouth tiredly before falling back to his side.
You knew that look.
Jungkook got overwhelmed easily when emotions stacked too fast. Not angry-overwhelmed. Just mentally full. Like his thoughts all tangled together until he stopped knowing how to say things properly.
Still, you stayed quiet.
Letting him figure it out.
A few seconds passed before he finally sighed.
Then quietly—
“Come here.”
Your heart betrayed you instantly.
You hated how fast it melted whenever he said that.
Not demanding.
Not cold anymore.
Just soft and tired and very very Jungkook.
You looked at him carefully. “You’re still annoyed.”
“I know.”
“That wasn’t an apology.”
“I know.”
“Jungkook.”
Another sigh left him before he uncrossed his arms finally and held one hand out toward you instead.
Large hands.
Pretty veins.
Silver rings catching warm apartment light.
“Baby,” he muttered quietly. “Please come here before I say something stupid again.”
God.
That did it.
You crossed the room trying not to look too affected by him, but the second you got close enough, Jungkook grabbed your waist immediately and pulled you against his chest with enough force to make you stumble into him.
“There,” he murmured.
Like he could breathe again now.
Your hands instinctively landed against his chest to steady yourself while his arms wrapped tightly around your middle.
Warm.
Always warm.
“You’re clingy,” you mumbled weakly.
“Mhm.”
“And irritating.”
“Mhm.”
“And kinda mean.”
At that, his grip tightened slightly.
“Okay,” he admitted against your hair. “Maybe a little mean.”
“A little?”
He huffed out a tiny laugh finally.
“You were annoying me.”
You pulled back enough to stare at him incredulously.
“Oh my god?”
“What?” he asked defensively, though the corners of his mouth twitched slightly now. “You were.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“But you still came here.”
Unfortunately true.
Jungkook noticed your expression softening and instantly took advantage of it, nosing gently against your temple before hiding his face against your shoulder dramatically.
“I hate arguing with you,” he muttered.
“You literally started half of it.”
“I know.”
“You were in the wrong.”
Another quiet pause.
Then reluctantly—
“I know.”
Victory.
You tried not to smile too hard at finally hearing him admit it.
Jungkook noticed anyway.
“You’re feeling smug right now.”
“Because I won.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Your eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”
He finally looked at you properly again, expression softer now than it had been all night.
“You heard me.”
The tension between you dissolved completely after that.
Jungkook’s hands slid underneath the hem of your hoodie absentmindedly, warm palms flattening against your waist while he swayed both of you gently side to side.
Comfort habit.
One he did constantly without realizing.
“You hurt my feelings,” you admitted quietly after a minute.
His face dropped immediately.
Instant guilt.
“I know,” he whispered.
There it is.
Your Jungkook.
Not prideful enough to avoid accountability.
Not toxic.
Just a boy who got irritated and said things badly sometimes.
His thumbs rubbed slowly against your skin.
“I wasn’t trying to ignore you earlier,” he said softly. “My brain was just somewhere else.”
“You could’ve told me that.”
“Yeah.”
“You made me feel annoying.”
That one visibly hurt him.
His brows furrowed instantly before he leaned down slightly so your foreheads touched.
“You’re never annoying to me.”
Your chest squeezed painfully.
Even now, after arguing, his voice still sounded full of affection.
Like loving you came naturally even during ugly moments.
“I just get quiet when I’m stressed,” he admitted.
“I know.”
“And then you get upset because I get quiet.”
“Because I miss you.”
Something in his expression softened completely after that.
God.
He looked at you like you’d said something devastating.
Without another word, Jungkook lifted one hand to cup your cheek gently before kissing your forehead slowly.
One kiss.
Soft enough to feel like an apology.
“You have me,” he murmured quietly afterwards.
The sincerity in his voice made your eyes sting a little.
Even after arguments, he always came back to this.
To touch.
To closeness.
To you.
Like no amount of irritation could overpower his instinct to love you gently.
“You’re still sleeping in the bed tonight?” he asked after a moment.
You stared at him.
“Obviously?”
“Okay good.” He exhaled dramatically. “Because I was already planning how to convince you.”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
Jungkook smiled instantly at the sound, dimples appearing properly now.
summary | Accompanying Jungkook on tour has felt like living in a dream. Stolen moments between cities, trying to make a relationship work in the middle of chaos. But when your period is late, the dream starts spiralling into panic as you try to find out if you’re right without raising suspicion, and contemplate how you are going to break the news to your very famous, busy boyfriend…
pairing | idol!jungkook x f!reader
word count | 1.8k
elements | fluff; anxiety; hurt/comfort; soft; pregnancy scare; a little suggestive; soft Jungkook; established relationship
author's note | Thank you to Anon for this Ask. I hope you’ll enjoy this short one. As ever, please excuse any errors I may have overlooked.
• 𓂃𝜗𝜚 bts masterlist ( ❛ p a r t • o n e ❜ ) | ( ❛ p a r t • t w o ❜ )
• 𓂃𝜗𝜚 jungkook masterlists ( ❛ p a r t • o n e ❜ ) | ( ❛ p a r t • t w o ❜ )
You sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at your calendar app for what had to be the millionth time that day.
Five days late.
You lock your phone and toss it beside you. Perhaps it was nothing. It probably was nothing. You'd been flying across continents for weeks, crossing into different time zones, eating different foods with hardly any sleep amidst the stress and constant movement. People got late periods from that, right?
You steal a glance at Jungkook who is on the floor, leaning against the hotel couch and scrolling through his phone with a huge grin plastered on his face. Sweetly oblivious to the way in which you could suddenly turn his whole world upside down. You swallow hard, your throat tightening as your heart lurched into the pit of your stomach.
"Baby?"
You look up at the word, as if for a second Jungkook had read your mind or possessed some type of oracle-like talent. Baby. Not what you needed right now. Certainly not what he needed in the middle of a world tour.
Jungkook is staring at you now, his own phone abandoned in his lap.
"Hm?"
"You've been so quiet," he says softly. “Is everything okay?”
"I'm just tired,” you reply, a little too quickly.
He narrows his eyes immediately, lie detector activated. He knows you too well, too attuned to your every pattern, and your every response. Dating Jungkook meant learning very quickly that he paid attention and noticed everything. Every tiny micro-expression, every shift in your voice, and every weird mood.
"You said that earlier."
"I am tired earlier, too,” you insist, but you know already it’s futile.
He snorts. "That doesn't even make sense."
You force a smile, but he doesn’t look convinced. The truth weighs heavy in your chest, and guilt floods you as you avert your eyes. You hadn't told him because there was something too real about saying something like this out loud. Like you might tempt fate, or worse yet, somehow be asking the universe for something unknowingly that it might deliver.
Pregnant.
The word itself made your stomach twist, and your feet feel like lead. You loved Jungkook, loved him more than anything −but this was his tour, his career, and everything he'd waited and worked so hard for. Even if he never blamed you, what if you blamed yourself? What if things changed? What if−?
"Hey." Jungkook’s voice cut through your thoughts.
You blink, forcing your attention back to him. He's moved from the couch and crouches in front of you now, hands resting on your knees. "Where did you go, baby? Talk to me."
You stare at him. God, he’s the best boyfriend you could ask for. So intuitive, so kind and considerate, so undeserving of having his life messed up. You feel horrible.
"I'm okay."
"You keep saying that." He reaches up and strokes your cheek, before tilting your face upwards with the crook of his finger gently. “−But you're avoiding me."
Your eyes widen. "I am not."
"You've gone to get coffee like, three times today,” he tells you, his eyes searching yours intently.
"I like coffee." Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own.
"You hate coffee."
It’s true, you do.
The word had just slipped out, and it would have been far too ridiculous to backtrack and change it to tea or ice cream or something else. You had also hoped he was too distracted going over some dance steps with Hoseok to really dwell on one word.
You should have known better.
"You also volunteered to go buy snacks,” he perseveres. “−And then shampoo.”
Why did he have the memory of an elephant when it came to things like this?
"Then wasn’t it tissues?" he continues, “Even though we’re in a hotel and have tissue coming out of our ears.”
“I don’t like the brand,” you state shakily. “It’s not soft enough.”
"Oh, baby,” Jungkook coos gently.
It’s too much, and the tenderness in his voice breaks you.
You groan and drop your face into your hands. Jungkook laughs quietly, but it fades almost immediately. "Is something wrong?" he asks, his tone so patient that you were assured he would have waited a hundred full moons for your answer. “You can tell me, I’m here.”
You feel your throat tighten. "Nothing’s wrong."
"We both know that isn’t true,” he states softly. “Please, just tell me. Are you going to finish with me?"
You look at him bewildered. His face had completely changed now. There is no hint of the earlier teasing, no playful smile or naughty grin. Just worry and concern. You hated that your eyes suddenly burned, tears building a wall behind your eyes that threatened to crash down the moment you look back into his dark, wide eyes so full of love for you.
"Oh no," Jungkook says immediately.
He reaches for your hands, clasping them within his big, strong ones so tightly. "No, no, my darling, please no. Why are you crying?"
"I'm not−," you begin.
But you absolutely are. Fat tears brim in your eyes and spill over your cheeks helplessly.
"Oh my God,” you chuckle weakly through your tears. “I’m so sorry.”
"Don't apologize,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hands reassuringly, one hand stretching up to wipe at your wet cheek. "Tell me, baby −please. Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay?"
You stare at him for a beat, wondering whether this might be the last time he knows any peace for a while before you let your arrow loose into him. You take a deep breath, knowing you had to tell him, it was too big to keep to yourself. He deserved to know.
"I’m late,” you blurt out.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Late?”
You nod. “My period. It’s late.”
He’s silent for a few seconds, letting the information process. But he doesn’t say anything and you wish you hadn’t said anything now. Immediately you look away, pulling back your hands.
“I know it sounds stupid, but−.”
"No, it doesn't,” Jungkook tells you, finally having found his voice. “You should have told me earlier. You’ve been carrying this alone while I’ve just been−.” He sighs heavily. “I wish you’d told me.”
"I know I'm probably overthinking because we've been traveling and everything but I just−.” You stop, voice trembling as you bite the bullet. “What if I'm pregnant?"
The room goes deathly quiet, and you can’t even dare to look at him the moment the words spill from your lips. What if he looks worried, or maybe even upset? It would destroy you.
"I just keep thinking maybe it'd ruin things," you confess in a hushed whisper. "That it would get in the way and−.”
"What?" His abrupt tone sounds almost offended and your head snaps up to find him staring at you. "Get in the way of what?"
"The tour your career −everything."
Jungkook moves closer, brow creased as he reaches up to cup your face with careful hands. “Hey, look at me.” You do what he asks, your heart hammering in your chest. "If you were pregnant, I wouldn't suddenly stop loving you. I hope you know that."
Tears threaten again, your lips begin to tremble, and your fingers dig into your palms.
"You wouldn't be ruining my life,” he says with certainty. “Why would you think such a thing?”
"I thought−.”
"No,” he interjects firmly, his handsome face looking up at you. “You can never be someone that ruins things for me.”
His words make you cry harder.
“No baby,” he says, panicking immediately. “No more crying. I can’t bear to see you cry.”
You summon a smile between sobs, but Jungkook still looks deeply betrayed. "I thought I was saying something sweet!" he protests.
Hours later, after a nervous pharmacy trip and a very long, very anxious wait in the hotel room, you stare at the strip resting on the bathroom counter. Checking and double checking the instructions.
Negative.
Nobody moves a muscle as you both simultaneously stare at the test as if to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you.
And then, at the same time, you both let out a huge sigh of relief.
You look at one another and both of you start laughing so hard that it leads to tears as you double over together.
Jungkook collapses dramatically against the bathroom wall. "I aged ten years."
"You did not."
"I did."
"You absolutely did not."
He stands and wraps his arms around you immediately, pulling you against his chest. You melt into him, the whole world suddenly feeling lighter, and tomorrow not seeming so bleak anymore.
Jungkook places a kiss at the top of your head. "It's probably because of all the traveling," he says softly. "Definitely stressful."
You hum softly against him. "Yeah."
"You really freaked out, huh?" Jungkook says.
"A lot."
He leans back slowly with the cheekiest grin appearing. "So−"
You narrow your eyes. "So?"
His smile gets bigger. "So, this is good news."
"Oh, no,” you say. You already know that face.
"Oh yes."
"Jungkook."
He smirks shamelessly. "This means we can practice a lot."
“Not until we can be more careful,” you say. “This was a warning.”
“Oh come on, baby,” he pouts, ensnaring your waist and bringing you in. “You know how good we are.”
"You are unbelievable!" you chide, playfully smacking his chest.
But he’s so strong, and you love the way you feel in his arms.
“Hmm, unbelievable huh?’ he murmurs, head dipping, his mouth close to your ear.
You shiver as that delicious pleasure that he always invokes in you starts up again. “Koo−,” you protest weakly.
“Let me show you how unbelievable I can be,” Jungkook whispers. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
You open your mouth to say something, but you’re too late. His lips close in, covering yours and already, you’re lost in the kiss. You moan, conceding defeat, and feel him smile victoriously against your mouth.
You succumb entirely, relieved and grateful to have a weight off your mind. For now, you were just happy to concentrate on Jungkook.
your boyfriend can’t sleep well, so you decide to surprise him
pairing: sunghoon x reader || wc: 2.6k || cw: all fluff and cutesy! established relationship, mentions of exhaustion and nightmares, kissing, use of petnames, mentions of showering together (non-sexual!) || warnings: none! || a/n: based on this lovely request <3 i looove this hoonie so much
sunghoon sits on the edge of the hotel bed in a foreign city, the lights of tokyo bleeding through the half-closed curtains. his body feels heavy, like every step on stage earlier drained something vital out of him.
the tour has been nonstop for weeks now, and tonight his throat scratches with the beginning of a cold while his head throbs in rhythm with the distant city noise.
he misses his home.
he misses you.
he lies back against the pillows but sleep refuses to come. again. the same nightmare from last night flickers behind his eyes every time he closes them — blurry images of forgetting choreography, of the crowd turning silent, of reaching for your hand only for you to fade away.
he turns to his side, hugging a pillow that smells nothing like you, and sighs. practice today was rough. his moves felt stiff, his focus scattered. the members noticed but said nothing, giving him space he doesn’t really want.
his phone lights up on the nightstand. it’s a message from you, sent hours ago because of the time difference. thinking about you. hope the show went amazing today. love you so much.
he stares at the words until they blur. his chest tightens. god, he needs to hear your voice.
he dials before he can talk himself out of it. the phone rings once, twice, and then your sleepy voice answers.
“sunghoon? baby, are you okay?”
he tries to speak but his throat closes up. the exhaustion, the loneliness, the pressure — everything crashes down at once. a quiet sob slips out, then another. soon he’s crying properly, shoulders shaking as he presses the phone closer to his ear.
“i… i miss you,” he whispers, voice cracking. “so much it hurts. i can’t sleep. can’t even practice right. everything feels wrong without you here.”
you’re instantly awake on the other end. he can hear you shifting, probably sitting up in bed back home. your voice turns soft and soothing, the way it always does when you comfort him.
“oh hoonie… i’m right here. tell me what’s going on. breathe with me, okay?”
he tries. he really does. you talk him through it — reminding him how proud you are, how the fans love him, how this tour is temporary and soon he’ll be back in your arms. you tell him silly stories about your day, about the cat you saw on your walk that looked like him when he pouts. for a few minutes it helps. his breathing evens out and the tears slow.
but then another wave hits. the nightmare flashes again. the emptiness in his chest feels too big.
“it’s not enough,” he admits quietly, ashamed. “i know you’re trying and i love you for it but… i feel so lost right now. my body hurts. my mind won’t stop. i keep dreaming you’re gone and i wake up reaching for you and you’re not there.”
you stay silent for a second, then speak with even more tenderness. “i wish i could hold you right now. i’d play with your hair until you fell asleep. i’d make you that tea you like and kiss your forehead until the bad thoughts leave. you’re doing so well, sunghoon. even on hard days you’re still my strong, beautiful boy.”
the praise makes fresh tears spill. he curls up smaller on the bed, phone tucked between his ear and the pillow. you stay on the call for over an hour, voice never wavering even as sleep tugs at you. you sing softly — one of the songs he wrote for you — and it almost lulls him. almost.
eventually his sobs turn to quiet sniffles. you whisper goodnight promises, telling him to try and rest, that tomorrow will be softer. when the call ends, the hotel room feels even emptier. sunghoon stares at the ceiling, phone still clutched in his hand, missing you worse than before.
the next day is worse. rehearsals drag. his voice cracks during vocal warmups and he keeps missing counts in the choreography. the choreographer pulls him aside gently, suggesting he rest, but sunghoon shakes his head. he pushes through, sweat mixing with frustrated tears he refuses to let fall. back at the hotel he skips dinner with the members, claiming he’s tired. in reality he just wants to lie in the dark and think about you.
night falls again and the cycle repeats. another nightmare — this time he’s lost in an endless airport, announcements calling your name but you never appear. he wakes up gasping, heart racing, skin clammy. it’s 3am local time. he knows it’s late for you but he calls anyway.
you pick up on the second ring, voice thick with sleep but full of concern. “sunghoon?”
“i had another nightmare,” he chokes out immediately. tears are already falling. “i can’t do this anymore. i feel sick and empty and i just… i need you.”
you comfort him again, stronger this time. you tell him stories from when you first met, how his shy smile made your heart flip. you describe in detail what you would do if you were there — wrapping him in your favorite blanket, cuddling until he feels safe, tracing patterns on his back. your voice is a lifeline, warm and steady, but he can hear the worry underneath it. no matter how much you say, the distance feels like an ocean.
“i love you,” you repeat for the tenth time. “this tour is hard but you’re not alone. i’m with you even from here.”
he nods even though you can’t see, wiping his face. “i know. i’m sorry for calling so much. i’m being a burden.”
“you are never a burden,” you say firmly. “cry if you need to. i’m here.”
the call lasts even longer this time. nearly two hours of you holding space for his tears and exhaustion. when he finally hangs up, a small spark of determination lights in his chest. he loves you too much to keep dragging you through his pain from so far away.
the following morning he moves through schedules like a ghost. another show, another flawless performance on the outside while inside he feels like he’s crumbling. during the encore he looks out at the sea of lightsticks and forces a smile, but his mind is on you. on how your eyes light up when he comes home. on how your laugh fills every empty corner of his life.
back in the hotel after the show, he showers and collapses on the bed. he doesn’t call this time. instead he texts you goodnight messages, heart emojis and promises that he’s trying. but inside the ache grows.
you, meanwhile, are pacing your apartment. the last few calls have left you restless. hearing sunghoon cry, hearing the exhaustion in his voice, it breaks something in you. you’ve tried everything you can from this distance — words, songs, memories — but it’s not enough. he needs more. he needs you.
you sit at your desk and open your laptop. your hands shake a little as you check flight schedules. the tour dates, the cities, the time zones. there it is — a flight leaving in two days that would get you to him. your heart races. you have enough savings. you can take the time off work. you’ve already quietly arranged things in your mind.
you don’t tell him. this has to be a surprise. something tangible to break through the fog he’s in. you imagine his face when you show up at his hotel door, how his tired eyes would widen, how he’d pull you into his arms and finally breathe easy.
packing is quiet and careful. you fold his favorite hoodie of yours, the one he always steals, and tuck in small gifts — his favorite snacks from home, a new pair of warm socks, printed photos of the two of you. every item feels like a promise. you’ll hold him through the nightmares. you’ll rub his back until he falls asleep. you’ll be there when he wakes up.
as you zip the suitcase, a soft smile settles on your face. the distance has been too long, the pain too heavy. soon you’ll close that gap. you check the flight confirmation one more time, heart full of love and nervous excitement.
you’re going to him.
sunghoon wakes up the next morning with puffy eyes and a heavier heart than usual. the hotel room feels sterile, the sheets too crisp, the air too cold without your warmth beside him. he drags himself through soundcheck, his body moving on autopilot while his mind replays your voice from the calls. you sounded so worried last night. he hates making you feel that way. during a short break he leans against the stage wall, scrolling through old photos of you two — your smile buried in his neck during a winter date, your hands covering his eyes as a surprise birthday cake appears. it makes the ache sharper.
the members try to cheer him up. jake slaps his back lightly and says something about powering through, but sunghoon only nods weakly. he performs that night with everything he has left, pouring the loneliness into the choreography, letting the bright lights blur his vision. the fans scream his name and it helps for those few hours, but the second he steps off stage the exhaustion crashes back down. another night of fighting sleep awaits.
meanwhile you sit on the plane, heart hammering the entire flight. the hours stretch endlessly as you clutch the armrest, imagining his tired face, his soft cries through the phone. you replay his voice in your head and it fuels you. when the plane finally lands you feel a rush of nervous energy. you text a vague hope you're resting well tonight so he doesn’t suspect anything, then grab your suitcase and head straight to the hotel where the team is staying. you had messaged their manager earlier in secret, explaining the situation, and he kindly arranged a keycard for you after confirming with the staff.
the elevator ride up feels eternal. your hands shake as you stand in front of his door. it’s late — past midnight — and you know he’s probably trying and failing to sleep again. you take a deep breath, slide the keycard, and push the door open quietly.
the room is dark except for the faint city glow through the curtains. sunghoon lies curled up on the bed, back facing the door, shoulders tense even in sleep. his breathing is uneven. you set your suitcase down gently and slip off your shoes, heart swelling at the sight of him looking so small and drained.
you approach the bed slowly and slide under the covers behind him. your arm wraps around his waist, pulling yourself flush against his back. he stirs immediately, body tensing.
“what—” he starts, voice hoarse and confused.
“shh, it’s me,” you whisper against his neck, pressing a soft kiss there. “i’m here, hoonie.”
sunghoon flips around so fast he almost knocks you off the bed. his eyes widen in the dim light, disbelief written all over his face. for a second he just stares, like you might vanish if he blinks. then his face crumples and he pulls you into his chest so tightly you can barely breathe.
“you’re… you’re really here?” his voice breaks on the words. tears soak into your shirt instantly as he buries his face in your hair. his whole body trembles against yours. “how? when? i thought i was dreaming again.”
you rub slow circles on his back, feeling the tension start to melt under your touch. “i couldn’t stand hearing you like that anymore. i booked the flight right after our last call. surprise.”
he lets out a shaky laugh mixed with a sob, hands roaming your back like he needs to confirm you’re solid and real. “you flew all the way here for me… i don’t deserve you.”
“you deserve everything,” you murmur, kissing his forehead, then his damp cheeks, then his lips softly. he tastes like salt from the tears and the faint mint of his toothpaste. the kiss deepens slowly, full of longing and relief, his fingers threading through your hair as if afraid you’ll disappear.
you spend the next hour just holding each other. sunghoon clings to you like a lifeline, head on your chest while you play with his hair exactly the way he loves. you whisper all the comforts you couldn’t give him over the phone — how proud you are, how strong he is even when it feels impossible, how much you missed his scent and his little pout when he’s tired. his breathing finally evens out, the nightmares staying away for the first time in days because your heartbeat anchors him.
“i love you,” he mumbles sleepily against your skin, already drifting off. “more than anything.”
“i love you too. sleep now. i’ve got you.”
the next morning sunghoon wakes up first. he watches you sleep for a long time, tracing your features with gentle fingers, a soft smile on his face that hasn’t appeared in weeks. when you stir he peppers your face with kisses until you giggle.
“best surprise ever,” he says, voice still raspy from sleep and crying. he looks better already — eyes less shadowed, shoulders more relaxed.
you make him stay in bed while you order room service — warm soup for his throat, his favorite fruits, and steaming tea. you feed him bites between soft conversations, making him laugh with stories from home. he eats more than he has in days, leaning into your side the entire time.
later you join him at the venue. the members light up when they see you, teasing sunghoon about how whipped he is, but their relief is obvious. during rehearsals you sit in the corner and watch him. knowing you’re there seems to unlock something — his moves become sharper, his voice steadier. every few minutes he glances over at you with that bright, lovesick smile that makes your heart flutter.
during a break he pulls you into an empty dressing room and kisses you like he’s making up for all the lost time. slow and deep at first, then playful as he lifts you onto the counter, nose brushing yours.
“you make everything feel easy again,” he admits between kisses. “i was falling apart without you.”
“you were never falling apart,” you reply, cupping his face. “you were just carrying too much alone. now we share the weight.”
that night’s concert is one of his best on the entire tour. you watch from the side stage, heart bursting with pride as he shines under the lights. during the slower songs he looks straight toward where you stand, singing with new emotion. the fans sense the shift in energy and the cheers grow louder.
after the show he finds you immediately backstage, still sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. he picks you up and spins you around, laughing freely for the first time in weeks.
back at the hotel the two of you take a long shower together. not rushed or heated — just tender. you wash his hair while he hums happily, eyes closed in bliss. afterward you tuck him into bed and crawl in beside him, legs tangled, his head resting on your chest again.
“no nightmares tonight?” you ask softly, fingers drawing patterns on his scalp.
he shakes his head, pressing closer. “none when you’re here. you chase them all away.”
you stay with him for the rest of that tour leg. every morning you wake up wrapped in each other. you attend practices and make sure he eats properly and rests between schedules. you leave little notes in his bag — you’re my favorite person or can’t wait to cuddle later — and he finds them during the day, sending you hearts and shy selfies in return.
on off days you explore the city together hand in hand. he buys you matching keychains and insists on taking couple photos even when he’s tired.
at night he falls asleep easily now, whispering love confessions until his voice fades. the hard times still come in waves — another tough rehearsal, another wave of homesickness — but now he turns to you instead of suffering alone. you hold him through the moments when tears return, kissing them away until he smiles again.
one quiet evening in another hotel room, city lights twinkling outside, sunghoon pulls you onto his lap on the couch. his arms circle your waist as he looks at you with those deep, sincere eyes.
“i was really struggling,” he says softly. “the nightmares, the pressure, missing you… it felt endless. but you came. you always come when i need you most. i don’t know what i did to deserve someone who loves me like this.”
you lean forward and rest your forehead against his. “you deserve the world, sunghoon. and i’m going to keep reminding you every single day.”
he kisses you then — slow, grateful, full of all the emotions he couldn’t express over the phone. the kiss turns into lazy cuddles that stretch into hours of quiet conversation and gentle touches. outside the tour continues with its chaos and demands, but inside these moments, it’s just the two of you. safe. warm. together.
and sunghoon thinks, as he falls asleep with your heartbeat steady under his ear, that this kind of love is what carries — and will carry — him through anything.
Omg sorry for requesting sm but I just love your writing and have sm ideas. So basically I had a enhypen x reader idea maybe Jay?? I feel like he fits this. But basically the reader isn’t super well off or anything and obviously Jay is so he’s like buying her stuff and while she likes it she kinda feels uncomfy because she doesn’t want him to resent the fact that he’s always spoiling her and her to seem like a gold digger. And basically she feels bad because she can’t afford to buy him really fancy stuff that he normally gets. So for some occasion she like saved up and bought him something but it still isn’t like designer or anything and when she gives it to him she says smth like “sorry it’s not like the good stuff you normally get” or smth along the lines and he stops her and reassures her that she’s perfect and doesn’t have to buy him expensive things. Basically just kinda fluffy hurt/comfort.
Jay x reader
Dating Park Jongseong meant you got spoiled constantly.
Not in an annoying way.
Jay never flaunted it.
He just noticed things.
Offhand comments you made weeks ago turned into packages arriving at your apartment.
“Oh, your headphones are breaking?”
Next thing you knew, he casually placed a brand new pair in your lap.
“You looked at this jacket for too long.”
“How do you even know that?”
“You held it for ten minutes.”
“But I put it back.”
“And now you don’t have to.”
It should’ve felt sweet.
And it did.
Mostly.
But sometimes, an uncomfortable ache settled in your chest afterward.
Because Jay grew up differently than you.
To him, buying expensive gifts was natural.
Easy.
Meanwhile, you still checked prices before ordering food.
You still hesitated before buying yourself small things.
No matter how many times Jay reassured you, part of you worried.
Worried he’d realize he was always giving more.
Worried other people thought you were with him for money.
Worried he’d resent you someday.
Especially since you couldn’t give him the same things in return.
It hit hardest around special occasions.
Like his birthday.
You spent weeks figuring out what to get him.
It felt ridiculous because what do you buy for someone who could already buy himself almost anything?
Every idea felt silly.
Too cheap.
Too plain.
Not enough.
Eventually, after overthinking it nearly to death, you settled on something simple.
A silver bracelet.
Not designer.
Not overly expensive.
But when you saw it, it reminded you of him immediately.
Clean.
Pretty.
Something he could wear often.
You saved up for it quietly for weeks.
Skipping takeout.
Passing on little things for yourself.
Now, sitting in Jay’s studio apartment with the small gift bag in your lap, you felt sick with nerves.
“You’re acting suspicious,” Jay said from the couch.
“I’m literally sitting here.”
“Exactly. Too quietly.”
You rolled your eyes weakly and handed him the bag.
“Happy birthday.”
His expression softened instantly.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
Still, your stomach twisted anxiously while he opened it.
Jay carefully pulled the bracelet from the box.
Then he just stared at it for a second.
“It reminded me of you,” you said nervously. “But um—sorry it’s not really like… the expensive stuff you normally get.”
As soon as you said that, Jay looked up sharply.
Your face burned.
Why did you say that?
“I just mean—obviously it’s not designer or anything and I know you probably already own better bracelets—”
“Hey.”
His voice softened immediately.
You stopped talking.
Jay set the bracelet down carefully and moved closer to you on the couch.
“Why are you apologizing?”
You looked down at your hands.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
Your throat tightened embarrassingly fast.
Because the truth sounded pathetic out loud.
“You always buy me nice things,” you admitted quietly. “And I can’t do the same for you.”
Jay frowned instantly.
“That’s what this is about?”
You shrugged helplessly.
“I just don’t want you to think I expect things from you all the time.” Your voice got quieter. “Or that I’m using you.”
The hurt on his face appeared immediately.
Not angry hurt.
Just genuinely sad that you thought that.
He reached for your hands carefully.
“Baby,” he murmured softly, “look at me.”
You did reluctantly.
Jay’s thumb brushed across your knuckles.
“Do you know why I buy you things?”
You shook your head slightly.
“Because I love seeing you happy.” He smiled softly. “That’s it.”
“But still—”
“No, listen to me first.”
His grip tightened slightly, warm and grounding.
“I don’t care about how expensive something is when it comes from you.”
Your eyes stung immediately.
Jay picked up the bracelet again carefully.
“You saved up for this, didn’t you?”
You looked away.
That answered the question enough.
His entire expression melted after that.
“God,” he whispered, almost to himself.
“What?”
“You’re so worried about deserving things all the time.”
The gentleness in his voice nearly broke you.
“You deserve nice things too, you know.”
You laughed weakly. “Not usually the kind of nice things you buy.”
“So?”
He looked genuinely confused.
“You think I care if my bracelet is designer?”
“Well… you like expensive stuff.”
“I like you.”
That shut you up immediately.
Jay smiled a little at your expression before carefully fastening the bracelet around his wrist.
It fit perfectly.
“There,” he said proudly, admiring it like it was the most valuable thing he owned.
Your chest hurt.
“You don’t have to pretend to love it.”
He blinked.
Then he actually looked offended.
“Pretend?”
You stared at him uncertainly.
Jay immediately held his wrist toward you.
“Look at it. It’s pretty.”
You snorted through the emotion building in your throat.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re overthinking again.”
Maybe you were.
But it was hard not to when someone like Jay existed so easily in a world that felt slightly out of reach to you.
Like he belonged in luxury while you were just borrowing space there.
Jay seemed to notice that thought cross your face immediately.
He always did.
“You wanna know something?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“The stuff you buy me usually means more.”
You blinked. “What?”
“When rich people buy each other gifts, half the time it’s just because they can.” His fingers intertwined with yours lazily. “But you think about things. You save up. You pay attention.”
Your eyes drifted toward the bracelet on his wrist again.
“You picked something that reminded you of me,” he continued softly. “That matters more to me than a logo.”
Your throat tightened painfully.
“You really mean that?”
Jay leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead.
“I would wear a ten-dollar ring from you like it was priceless,” he murmured.
That nearly made you cry.
Instead, you hid your face against his shoulder with a groan.
“You make me emotional.”
“Good.”
“You’re supposed to let me be dramatic.”
“I am.” He laughed quietly, wrapping an arm around you. “But you’re not allowed to apologize for loving me in the ways you can afford.”
Hearing that made something heavy in your chest finally soften a little.
pairing: sub!jay x reader || wc: 1.6k || cw: smut! established relationship, kissing, making out, anal fingering (m. rec), pegging, unprotected sex, teasing, use of petnames, mentions of alcohol, strong language, swearing || warnings: +18 content, mdni || a/n: don’t mind the title i was feeling silly
here’s the thing about four years together: you think you know someone inside out, every sound they make, every face they pull when they’re turned on, every way they like to be touched.
then one random tuesday night you’re both a little tipsy on cheap red wine and jay looks over at you from the couch, cheeks pink, and says, “so… what if you fucked me instead?”
he tries to sound casual. he fails spectacularly.
you almost choke on your wine. “are you serious?”
he shrugs, but his ears are scarlet. “just once. i'm curious about it and… i thought it might be… funny? hot? maybe both?” he rubs the back of his neck, the way he does when he’s pretending not to care too much. “only if you want to, tho.”
you’ve been the one on your knees for him for four years. he’s the one who pins your wrists, who growls filthy things in your ear until you’re shaking, who always, always takes care of you after. the idea of flipping that makes your stomach do a slow, delicious flip.
“yeah,” you hear yourself say, voice smaller than you meant. “i want to.”
so you order the stuff online together, giggling like teenagers at the product names ('purple people pleaser' makes you laugh the most), and when the box finally arrives you both stare at it on the kitchen counter for a full minute before jay rips it open like it’s christmas.
now it’s saturday night. the lights are low, just the string lights above the bed you both picked out two apartments ago. there’s lube on the nightstand, the new harness laid out like it’s some kind of ceremonial offering.
jay is in nothing but black boxer briefs, standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed like he’s trying to look cool and failing because he keeps shifting his weight.
“you look like you’re about to defuse a bomb,” you say.
“i feel like i’m about to defuse a bomb,” he mutters. then he catches your eye and the corner of his mouth twitches. “or like i’m about to get railed by my extremely hot girlfriend who’s wearing that thing like she was born for it.”
you glance down. the harness is simple black leather, the dildo a soft purple silicone thing that looked way less intimidating on the website. now it’s bobbing slightly with every nervous breath you take.
you feel… powerful. ridiculous. both, if that's possible.
“come here,” you say, trying for the low, commanding tone he always uses on you.
it comes out squeaky.
jay snorts so hard he has to cover his mouth. “oh my god. babe. that was adorable.”
“shut up,” you whine, face burning. “i’m trying to be dominant!”
“you’re doing great, sweetheart,” he says, stepping closer, hands sliding to your hips. he’s still laughing, but it’s soft, fond. “terrifying. truly. i’m quaking.”
you shove at his chest. “lie down, you menace.”
he flops onto the bed dramatically, arms spread like he’s making a snow angel. “yes ma’am. ravish me.”
you crawl over him, knees bracketing his hips, and suddenly the laughter fades into something warmer, hotter. his eyes go soft looking up at you. you can feel how hard he already is through his briefs, pressing against the base of the dildo.
“are you still okay with this?” you ask quietly.
he nods, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “yeah, more than okay. just… go slow, yeah? and if we laugh, we laugh. no big deal.”
you lean down and kiss him, slow and deep, the way he taught you years ago when you were still shy about using tongue. he sighs into your mouth, hands sliding down to grip your ass over the harness straps. you rock experimentally, the base nudges your clit and you both gasp.
“fuck,” he breathes. “that’s… that’s gonna be evil for you, huh?”
“a little bit,” you admit, grinning against his lips. “but i’m very selfless.”
“oh, my hero.” he laughs.
you kiss down his neck, his chest, taking your time because you can. usually he’s the one mapping you out like he’s memorizing every inch. tonight you get to bite gently at his collarbone and watch him arch, get to mouth over a nipple and feel him jerk beneath you.
his breath hitches when you tug his briefs down; his cock springs free, flushed and leaking.
“look at you,” you murmur, wrapping your fingers around him just to watch his eyes flutter. “already such a mess for me.”
he laughs breathlessly. “you’re getting cocky.”
“i’m allowed to do it,” you stroke him slow, thumb swiping over the head. “i have a dick now.”
he wheezes. “please never say that again.”
you both dissolve into giggles, foreheads pressed together. when the laughter fades, he cups your face and kisses you soft.
“i love you,” he says, serious suddenly. “so fucking much. whatever happens, okay?”
your chest aches with it. “i love you more.”
you reach for the lube, warming it between your fingers like he always does for you. he spreads his thighs without being asked, knees bent, and the trust in that makes you want to cry a little. you circle his hole gently, watching his face.
“tell me if it’s too much.”
“i will,” he promises. “but i won’t need to.”
one finger slips in easier than you expected. he exhales shakily, pushing back against your hand.
“good?” you ask.
“yeah. feels weird but good. keep going.”
you work him open slow, the way he’s done to you a hundred times. every time you crook your finger and he moans, you feel it in your own body. by the time you’re three fingers deep he’s rocking against your hand, cock dripping onto his stomach, whispering your name like a prayer.
“please,” he says finally, voice wrecked. “i need you. come on, baby, i'm ready.”
you pull your fingers out carefully and he whines at the loss. you slick the dildo generously — better too much than not enough, you both agreed — and line up. the head nudges against him and you both freeze.
“still ready?” you whisper.
he nods, reaching down to guide your hips. “slow.”
you push in.
the noise he makes is unholy. his head falls back, throat exposed, fingers digging into your thighs.
you go inch by inch, watching his face for any sign of pain. there’s none; just overwhelmed pleasure, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut.
when you’re fully seated, you both just breathe for a minute.
“holy fuck,” he rasps. “you’re inside me.”
“i am,” you say, a little awed. you lean down to kiss him, careful not to move yet. “are you okay?”
“so okay. move, please. i need you to move, baby.”
you pull back slow and thrust in again, gentle. his back arches off the bed.
“fuck, yes, like that—”
the angle is awkward at first. you have to shift your knees, find a rhythm. but then you do, and suddenly everything is perfect.
every thrust drags the base against your clit and sends sparks up your spine. jay is moaning underneath you, legs wrapped around your waist, taking you so beautifully you could cry.
“you’re so good,” you tell him, voice shaking. “taking me so well, jay. look at you.”
he makes a broken sound. “don’t— fuck— don’t say that, baby, i’ll come too fast—”
“that’s okay,” you soothe, picking up the pace just a little. “you can come whenever you want. you’re so pretty like this.”
“jesus christ,” he laughs breathlessly. “who taught you dirty talk?”
“you did, asshole.”
he pulls you down into a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue. you can feel him trembling, thighs shaking around you. when you reach between you to stroke his cock he shouts into your mouth.
“close,” he pants. “baby, i’m—”
“come for me, jongie,” you whisper against his lips. “wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”
that does it. he comes with a choked cry, spilling over your fist and his stomach, body clenching tight around the dildo. the pressure on your clit tips you over too. you bury your face in his neck and come with a sob, hips stuttering.
you stay like that, wrapped up in each other, breathing hard. eventually you ease out carefully and he winces.
“are you okay? too sore?” you ask, worried.
“a little bit. but it was so worth it.” he kisses your temple. “ten out of ten. would let you fuck me again.”
you laugh wetly, hiding your face in his chest. “i was so scared i’d be terrible at it.”
“you were perfect,” he says firmly. “you are perfect. and also ridiculous. and also the love of my life.”
you trace hearts on his skin with your finger. “i love you so much it hurts.”
he hums, holding you tighter. “same. i think we earned a bath and like, three pizzas.”
“and cuddling,” you add.
“obviously cuddling. but… i’m the little spoon tonight.”
you grin into his shoulder. “deal.”
later, in the warm water, he leans back against your chest and you wrap your arms around him, kissing the top of his head. the harness is tossed somewhere on the bedroom floor, forgotten. all that matters is the way he melts into you.
“so,” he says sleepily, “pegging: yay or nay?”
you nip his ear. “yay. no doubt.”
he smiles, slow and sated. “cool. just checking.”
you hold him until the water cools, whispering i love yous into his skin.
you've been together for four years, and somehow you fall for him a little more every time.
tonight proved it: you’d switch roles a thousand times over.
especially if it meant getting to love him like this.
in which jungkook's sleepless night leads to an intimate shower with his girlfriend, where tender washing and lovemaking takes place.
pairing — dom!jungkook x sub!femreader
genre — established relationship, slice of life, domestic vibes, slight angst, smut, fluff
warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, mentions of insomnia, mental health struggles, emotional conflict and vulnerability, smoking as a coping mechanism, hurt and comfort, love confessions, tattoo descriptions, intimate washing, late night sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), eating out, face riding, tongue fucking, clit stimulation, cum eating, breast play, nipple play, making out, hickies/marking, mentions of bruising, rough sex, hair fisting and pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), cock palming, fist fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, sex from behind against the shower wall, creampie, loving aftercare, they love each other so muchh
wc — 5.1k
a/n — this one is requested by darling @cuntygguk !! <3
masterlist
jungkook felt restless, proof of the grip of insomnia that won't leave him.
the clock on the nightstand read 2:50 am.
the room was quiet except for the occasional noises of the city outside.
jungkook laid beside you, his body taut with too much energy, eyes were fixed on the ceiling above.
his hair messily clung to his forehead, damp with slight sweat and he breathed shakily.
each exhale felt exhausting from the sleeplessness he was facing.
night after night.
he was facing this.
you were curled up beside him, body comfy inside the warm blanket. the small light highlighted your features, the pink flush on your cheeks.
the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed.
deep in sleep.
jungkook's eyes softened, landing on you, heart swelling with all the adoration he had for you.
you were his light in the darkness.
the only person who made the world feel bearable for him.
his deep love for you scared him sometimes—he loved the way your laughter comforted him in his worst days, your touch and your entire presence made it worth it for him.
you saw him for who he was truly, flaws and all and you still chose to stay.
you were his only girl.
forever.
and he didn’t have the heart to wake you up now that you slept so peacefully beside him, looking so cozy.
he would do anything to protect your sleep.
never wanting to wake you.
you always had a way of trying to help him, soothing him in your own ways—making chamomile tea with honey exactly how he liked and trying to make the bed softer for him to sleep in.
anything for him to get sleep.
you would also wrap your arms around him at night, your warmth helping him, whispering words of comfort to him.
late night talks about nothing and everything.
you’d tried everything.
but his insomnia was stubbornly there, always clawing at him no matter how much you tried.
it rarely let go.
jungkook hated the idea of pulling you into this sleeplessness of his, of stealing the rest you deserved.
so he struggled alone.
he always did, trying to shield you from his problems.
with a quiet sigh, he slid out of bed.
he moved carefully, not wanting to disturb the stillness of your sleep.
he slowly walked to the nightstand table, broad shoulders hunched slightly with tiredness.
he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the dresser, fingers trembling faintly as he pulled one out.
smoking was very rare for him.
he only went for it at night when the insomnia was too deep, his chest feeling heavy.
he stepped onto the small balcony.
the city beneath him felt distant, almost unreal.
he lit the cigarette using a lighter before he inhaled deeply, smoke burning his throat as he exhaled.
the nicotine did little to quiet his mind.
but it gave his hands something to do, a momentary distraction from all his thoughts.
back inside, he paced the room.
he stopped by the bed soon, eyes drawn to you.
like a magnet.
he could watch you sleep for hours, memorize every detail of yours.
your chest rising and falling, a rhythm that grounded him.
even now.
a piece of hair fell on your face and he resisted the urge to reach out, tuck it behind your ear.
you were so damn beautiful.
so perfect in your vulnerability.
and his chest felt tight, aching with a love that bordered on pain.
he wanted to crawl back into the bed, wrap himself around you and to let your warmth chase away all the demons he was facing.
but he knew it wouldn’t help.
not tonight.
instead he decided to shower, hoping the water might help his racing mind.
he moved to the bathroom, the door clicking behind him.
he stripped off his sweatpants, since he was shirtless already.
his eyes falling on his reflection in the mirror, his body sculpted by several tattoos, eyes falling on his most favorite one—a tattoo with your initials hidden in it.
a secret only he knew.
all his tattoos told stories of his struggles, his passion and his love for you.
the shower turned on and the water fell like rainfall from the showerhead.
jungkook stepped under the spray, water streaming down his body and all his hard muscles.
he tilted his head back, a sigh escaping his mouth, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead.
sharpening his features.
the warm water helped in loosening the tension in his shoulders but his chest still felt tight.
something that wouldn’t go away.
back in the bedroom, the muffled sound of the shower stirred you from sleep.
your eyes fluttered open, half lidded.
immediately noticing jungkook’s absence even before you saw that he was gone.
whenever his warm large frame wasn’t around you.
you just knew.
like your body had a mind of its own.
the bed felt emptier without jungkook's presence, the sheets cool beside you.
where his body should have been.
a pang of worry hit you, heart aching at the thought of him facing insomnia once again.
you sat up.
the sound of the shower confirmed where he was and the realization that he hadn’t woken you.
hadn’t reached for you.
made your throat tighten with sadness
you slid out of bed, bare feet hitting the floor.
you approached the bathroom, the door was ajar and you pushed it open, immediately being greeted by the steamy air.
the mirror was fogged with the condensation.
jungkook stood under the shower, back to you, water cascading over his shoulders.
the sight of him infront of you.
his naked beauty stole your breath.
the bare body you have seen and touched countless times in your relationship, yet he always makes your heart flutter.
tall, strong.
yet so exposed—your heart hurting, a furrow in your eyebrows from pain.
“kookie…”
you breathe.
barely audible over the water.
he turned, dark eyes widening slightly.
a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his face.
“baby, what are you doing up?”
his voice rough with exhaustion but also with tenderness.
reserved for you only.
“you should be sleeping.” he said.
“i heard the shower.”
you step inside the bathroom.
“why didn’t you wake me? you’re struggling again aren’t you?”
he looked away, jaw clenching tightly as he ran a hand through his wet hair.
“i didn’t wanna bother you,” he admitted.
“you were sleeping so peacefully and i... i... hate dragging you into this.”
his eyes meeting yours, filled with emotions and vulnerability.
“i can handle it baby, you know i always do.”
your heart broke at his words.
at the way he tried to hide his pain just to protect you.
you stepped closer.
“you’re not a burden, jungkook.”
you said, voice steady, eyes searching his.
“you never are. i wanna be there for you just like you're always there for me.”
“it hurts me when you shut me out.” you croaked.
he reached for you, wet hand brushing your cheek, leaving a trail of wetness on your skin and your eyes closed at his touch.
“i’m sorry, sweet girl.”
his voice breaking slightly.
“i just… i don’t want you to see me like this… so fucking troubled. you deserve better than that, hm?”
“you’re not a trouble.”
you said fiercely, stepping closer but still away from the water.
“you’re human and it’s okay to not be okay all the time, koo… and please don’t say that. i love every part of you no matter what.”
his gaze softened.
“you’re too good to me.” he murmured.
his thumb brushing over your lower lip, jaw clenched tight.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve you but i thank god every day that you’re mine.”
your heart swelled, tears welling in your eyes as you reached for him, fingers brushing his wet chest.
“let me take care of you tonight… please.”
he nodded, eyes intense on you and you didn’t hesitate.
you pulled off the t-shirt you were wearing, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.
your body bare beneath it.
jungkook's breath hitched, nostrils flaring, dark eyes roaming all over you, taking in the curve of your hips.
your soft full breasts and the way your nipples hardened under his stare.
you blushed softly under his gaze, not used to being so confident and direct, so you looked away, biting your lower lip.
the steam surrounded you as well as you stepped in the shower.
water soaking you now and your hair clings to you.
“can i wash you?” you ask, softly.
reaching for the shampoo bottle. the vanilla scent filled the air as you poured it into your hands.
he didn’t protest.
his eyes locking on yours, never losing eye contact, like they can read all of your secrets.
a mix of gratitude and desire in them.
you reached up, standing on your tiptoes, fingers running through his wet hair, massaging the shampoo there with slow gentle movements.
he was so tall, his frame towering over you, making it harder for you to reach him.
he sank to his knees for you, a gasp leaving you.
the sight of him kneeling before you, his head tilted, eyes half closed in relaxation, sent a rush of warmth through you.
your heart raced but your fingers continued working, massaging his scalp and the soap ran over his shoulders, down his muscled back.
his face was in level with your hips, eyes falling to the space between your thighs.
your pussy was wet—not just from the water but from his intense stare.
and the intimacy of the moment.
his hands rested on your thighs, thumb brushing the sensitive skin and a shiver ran down your spine.
“fuck,” he hums.
“you’re so fucking beautiful. look at this pussy right here, so wet and pretty for me.”
he says, huskily.
your cheeks flush, lips parting at his lewd words, your thighs squeezed together instinctively wanting to take his gaze away, but it stayed locked there.
“koo…” you whimper.
your hands shook as you tried to focus on rinsing the shampoo from his hair.
“you’re supposed to be relaxing.”
“i am.” he said.
his lips curling into a smirk, hands slid higher, thumbs brushing closer to your swollen folds.
“but how am i supposed to relax when you are standing here looking like this, pretty girl?”
“this pussy—it’s all mine, isn’t it, hmmm?” he asks
“yes”
a whine leaves your mouth, struggling to focus on washing away the soap suds from his hair.
“all yours.”
he groans, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, fingers almost bruising your skin.
“i wanna bury my face in you, taste you until you’re screaming my name... god, you’re killing me.”
you giggled softly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, heart pounding as you reached for the conditioner next, pouring it into your hands.
you worked it through his hair, detangling it with care as you applied gentle scratches to his scalp with your nails because you knew he always liked it.
he sighed, gulping, shoulders relaxing under your ministrations.
“feels so good, baby,” he mutters.
“you always know how to take care of me.”
“you deserve it.” you huff.
voice thickening with emotion.
he looked up at you, hands cupping your ass, making you let out a small squeak.
a warm, deep chuckle vibrated from his chest.
“i don't know how i got so lucky... i'd be lost without you.” his voice breaks.
your heart swells, a tear slipping down your cheeks, unknowingly and you lean down to kiss his forehead.
“i’m not going anywhere.” you whisper.
finalizing it.
he remains quiet after that, letting you focus on him.
you finished rinsing the conditioner, leaving his hair shiny and soft.
“my turn.” he rasps.
his voice authoritative and commanding and the sudden shift in his demeanor sends a thrill through you.
he gets back to his feet.
reached for the body wash, pouring it into his hands, a scent he loves on you so much.
a floral smell that clings to your body.
he starts at your shoulders, calloused hands gliding over your skin and you lean onto him.
he washed your arms with concentration, fingers tracing each and every curve.
he moved to your back, hands cupping your waist as his thumb pressed gently into the knots of tension he found there.
“oh, mhmm.”
your head falls back, breasts heaving with your pants.
“you’re so tense, princess,” he murmurs.
lust and care in his voice
“gonna make you feel good.”
you sighed, arching into him, resting your head against his chest.
his hands and the water soothing you in too many ways.
his hands trailed upward, slowing as they reached your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples.
you gasped, body arching into his touch as you clutched his shoulder.
he didn’t stop.
he circles them, teasing them, the soap making his fingers glide easily.
and the sensation of his calloused, slick fingers from the body wash felt too much.
and your nipples felt overly sensitive, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.
“hahh… koo.” you called out.
“mm fuck, look at these tits,” he growls.
“you’re squirming already and i’ve barely started.”
a rumble vibrates from his chest against you, making your clit pulse at the same time with your heartbeat.
“jungkook…” you whimpered.
your nails digging into his skin, trying to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensation.
“it’s too much.”
a pout on your lips.
“too much?” he teased.
his lips brushed your earlobe, fingers continuing their slow, torturous circles.
“you’re such a good girl… letting me play with your tits.”
“look at how hard they are, always begging for more huh?” he grumbles
you moaned, water falling over both of you as he continued to wash your body.
his hands were slow, taking his time worshipping your body.
as if memorizing every inch of you.
he washes your hips, hold strong and possessive as he also applied subtle massages whenever he wanted.
he then moved to your hips, fingers kneading the muscles, the soap making his movements easier.
almost obscene in a way that even the innocent touches cause wetness to pool in your cunt.
he knelt, face inches away from your core once again.
you felt your breath catch as he looks up at you, eyes wild with hunger.
“spread your legs for me, baby.”
his deep, gravelly voice make your thighs tremble.
“let me see that little pussy.” he hums.
you obeyed, breaths shaky, parting your thighs.
his hands slid up your inner thighs and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation.
“goddamn, you're so wet.” he grunts.
fingers brushing closer to your folds.
teasing but not touching
not yet.
“not just from the water, are you? you're dripping for me... aren't you pretty girl?”
“yes.” you gasp.
hands bracing against the shower wall for support, your voice needy and choked.
he groans, eyes fixed on your quivering heat, his hands gripping your thighs as he leaned forward, breath hot against you.
your clit pulsing as his breath hits it, making your hips buck.
he parted your folds using his thumbs, tongue darting out, licking a slow stripe through your folds, collecting your arousal and you let out a startled cry.
hips rocking into his mouth.
“so good i could eat this pussy all night baby”
his voice muffled against you as he went on with his torturing motions, tongue flicking at your clit.
his hands kept your thighs spread to give him better access.
not letting you any space to move anywhere.
completely submitting to him.
no escape from his delicious torture.
the heat of his mouth, the warmth of the water and the slickness of the soap—it was too much.
sensory overload.
you tremble, letting out uncontrollable noises.
he grabbed one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder, supporting your weight since your legs were getting weak.
and it gave him the upper hand to control you better.
“jungkook, oh my god.” you moaned.
your hands tangling in his wet hair, pulling him closer.
“don’t stop. pease. please.”
you begged, mindless.
“never.” he exclaims.
the vibration has you letting out a shaky cry, his lips closing around your clit, sucking it hard and you pulled his hair.
your hips thrusting on his mouth, almost riding his tongue.
“come for me, baby… let me feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
the pressure built quickly and the coil tightened in your belly so fast, tears glistened in your eyes.
“ahh gosh, koo!”
your moans echoed in the small shower.
“jungkook i'm gonna—oh fuck, i’m coming.”
your body shuddering as orgasm crashed through you so suddenly you almost fell over.
jungkook held you upright as he licked you through it, drawing out the pleasure until you were panting and mumbling.
you pushed his head away, gasping, covering your mouth trying to control yourself.
he stood, lips glistening with your arousal and some dripping on his chin.
the sight of you so wrecked turned him on like crazy.
he snarls, pulling you into him in a rough hungry kiss, tongue tangling with yours as you taste yourself, making you mewl on his mouth.
“i love you so much, my baby… you have no idea.” he whispers.
against your lips.
hands cupping your ass and you clutched onto his chest, heart thudding.
“love you too, kookie.”
lips swollen from his kiss.
as you still struggle to get back from your orgasm.
“continue taking care of me…” he rasps.
a lazy grin on his lips as he so obviously takes enjoyment from teasing you.
making you wait.
you flush and a scoff leaves you.
him knowing that you won't ever resist or deny taking care of him even if you're aching.
you reached for the body wash he used on you a few moments ago, pouring some on his body.
beginning to wash him in return.
your hands slide over his chest, tracing all of his tattoos, lingering on the ink as your fingers traced the patterns.
a habit of yours from countless nights before.
he exhales, satisfied, loving your hands on his body.
there was a small design on his chest your initials hidden there.
a secret he’d shown you one night.
his voice soft and loving as he confessed it was for you.
“you’re inked in my body forever.”
he’d said then.
the memory still makes your heart swell.
your hands move lower, washing his abs, taking advantage of the moment and groping him and touching his skin.
you can tell his enjoyment by the way his muscles flex underneath your touch, the deep rumbles from his chest.
a grunt leaving his lips as you get near his hips.
when you reached for his cock, he was already hard and heavy.
your soap coated hand wrapping around his thick bulge, fingers barely meeting from his sheer size
“baby.” he hisses.
hips bucking into your hand.
the soap and water makes your touch smooth and you begin to stroke him slowly, thumb circling the tip.
your eyes stay focused on his and his intense dark bedroom eyes make your pussy clench, despite the hard orgasm you faced moments ago.
his nostrils flared, jaw clenching and you knew he was holding back for your sake.
letting you take things at your own pace.
a rare moment.
you lean in, pressing loving kisses on his chest, lips brushing over his tattoos.
“mmm, you’re so hard, kookie…”
“shit, princess.”
his hands grip your hips tight, thrusting into your hand.
“you keep talking like that and i’m gonna lose it.”
“good.” you breathe.
smiling shyly against his skin as you continue to stroke him, the other hand helping wash away the soap suds from his body.
taking care of every inch of him.
his hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts again, weighing them in his hands as he kisses you again.
desperate and hurried.
“i need to be inside you,”
he rushes out.
“now.”
“then take me.” you whispered.
all your restraint faded, bottom lip quivering in want as you looked at him with teary eyes.
he didn’t hesitate.
he spun you around in a fast motion, pinning you against the shower wall.
his rough manhandling knocking the breath out of you.
your breasts press on the wet tiles, nipples brushing against them, making you ache with a mix of pain and pleasure.
but he keeps you pressed there, not letting you move.
the water still falls over you both like rain, making the moment more sensual and comforting for both of you.
he grips your hips, tilting them to position himself behind you.
“you want this cock, hm?”
voice rough with need as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds.
teasing but not entering.
making you pant and clutch the wall tightly.
“want me to fuck this cunt until you’re coming?”
“yes, pleaseee.”
your body trembling with anticipation.
his eyes fixed on how your earlier release still leaks out of your slit.
the sight so naughty and obscene and he was running out of patience.
“i need you so bad.”
you begged, voice pitched.
he doesn’t make you wait longer.
he enters into you in one smooth thrust, cock stretching you and filling you so completely.
it felt like he reached your stomach in one go, the position allowing him to go deeper.
leaving you in a very vulnerable and exposed position.
“oh gosh… gahhh.” you cry out.
he doesn’t give you a moment to adjust as he begins to move, hips rolling.
almost like he was taking his frustrations out on you.
you loved it when he was like this, rough and taking what he needs.
like an unrestrained animal.
ready to devour you.
“koo! nghh, you’re so big—ohh gosh.”
“you’re so tight and warm around me… you love this fat cock, don’t you?”
he asked, voice gruff, hips moving faster.
“mhmm?” he grits out.
when you don’t answer and you know he doesn’t like it when you remain quiet, not voicing your answers.
but the pleasure was too much, you couldn’t keep track of everything.
“yes. yes.” you whined.
head falling forward as he thrusts harder and faster.
the sound of skin slapping against skin mixes with the sound of the water falling.
creating a lewd music.
your own cries and his grunts mixing with it.
each of his thrusts hitting that spot inside you again and again.
“right there! there—”
a sob leaves you.
“right there? you like it there baby?”
he hums out a deep chuckle.
his voice almost predatory and dark, hips going in the same rhythm, hitting that exact spot like the expert he was.
and you were a squirming mess on the wall, clawing at the tiles.
your mouth remain parted.
drool trickling down your mouth.
you were seeing stars at this point.
“you’re mine.”
he says huskily, a moan leaving him when you clench on his cock.
“my only girl… my everything, gonna make you come so hard… mmm.”
he was trying to prove a point, almost like he wanted to reward you for always being there for him.
taking such good care of him.
“jungkook. jungkook. jungkook”
you were only capable of chanting his name.
each of his thrusts sends your body sliding on the wall due to the wetness.
his hands holding your hips, the constant brush of the tiles on your nipple.
was causing a dual stimulation
and it was too much all at once.
“ohs” and “ahs” left your mouth at each of his thrusts.
“i’m gonna come ahh—”
a broken sob leaves you, struggling to hold onto the wall, nails scratching it.
needing something to hold onto.
he reached around, never giving you a break.
his fingers find your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts.
“come on,” he hisses.
“let me feel this pussy squeeze my cock… come for me.”
his hands fisting your hair, pulling you back to meet his brutal thrusts.
your orgasm came crashing over you and you let out a loud scream that ended in a sob.
“ohh, kookie!” you cried.
your walls clenching around him as painful pleasure ripped through you.
your moans fill the shower, raw and desperate as he fucked you through it.
your throat aching from all the noises.
he breathes shakily, thrusts faltering, chasing his own release and you can feel each of his throbs inside you.
your pussy clenching on him repetitively, overstimulating both of you in the process until you both were letting out broken moans.
“gonna fill you, sweetheart.” he grits out.
“hnnn, do it, please. jungkook, come inside me.”
you gasp, trembling, whimpers spilling out of your mouth.
he thrusts one last time, deep and hard and then he comes, his release hot and intense.
he spurts inside you and groans your name.
you feel the warmth of his release, he reaches such deep parts of you and you groan.
body still pressed against the wall as he holds you close.
you both pant, tangled together.
after a few moments he pulls out slowly, making you gasp at the emptiness.
both your arousal mixed together leaks out of your pussy.
your legs no longer supporting your weight, completely defeated.
he turns you around to face him, picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist.
supporting your weight.
he kisses you this time gently with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.
his tongue exploring your mouth, coaxing small whimpers from you.
he pulls back, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily.
he holds you close to him, your arms encircling him as he buries his head on your neck, leaving small open mouthed kisses.
his lips sucking gently at first then harder, leaving marks.
claiming you as his.
in every way.
your voice tremble, running your fingers through his wet hair as he faces you, your lips brushing his.
both of you breathing the same air.
“you know i’m always here for you… right koo?”
he leans down, pressing a delicate kiss on your shoulder, lips lingering, sucking another hickey there.
you can feel his shoulders shake from the weight of his emotions, from hearing your words and you clutch him to you tighter.
you place soft kisses beneath his ear.
each kiss a mark of his love.
his need for you.
“i don’t deserve you,” he says.
voice strained.
“but i'll spend every day trying to be worthy of you.”
you sign, nuzzling onto him, bodies were still warm from the water, the steam around you both.
“you’re more than enough, koo,” you coo.
“always, you’re my home.”
he was your safe place.
you both eventually step out of the shower, movements slow and intimate.
he helps you dry off, wrapping a towel around you.
he helps himself by wrapping one around his waist.
you tell him to wait in bed.
he protests as he wants you in his arms, but your request makes him let you go.
reluctantly.
you go to the kitchen and make his favorite chamomile tea, a drink that's his favorite.
you know it comforts him.
and you don’t forget to add honey to it.
back in the bedroom, you hand him the mug, fingers brushing against his.
his heart full with how much you cherish him, he pulls you in his arms.
wanting you close to him as he sips on it slowly.
his eyes never leaving you.
the love and gratefulness in them were so intense, your chest pained.
he guides you closer to him until his head rests on your bare breasts.
an act that always comforted him.
he loved to do it.
he would tell you to get naked and he would rest on your chest like that.
it wasn’t always sexual, just a loving act you both shared.
you ran your fingers through his damp hair, a contented hum leaving him.
the faint brushes of his hair on your taut nipples still send tremors through you, but you focus on him.
hoping and praying he can finally get some sleep.
he deserves it.
the room was quiet now and you soon felt his body relax against yours.
the tension of the night finally easing.
the sex, love, your presence—it was enough to quiet the restlessness in him.
his breathing slowed, arms wrapped around you, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.
you buried your face in his hair, breathing the fresh smell of the shampoo.
he soon drifted off from your tender touches.
his face peaceful at last.
his lips slightly parting, a sign that he was in deep sleep and was actually resting.
the usual frown on his face when he cannot sleep was gone.
now replaced with restfulness.
his breath warm against your skin and your eyes traced all the details of his handsome features—his lips, the curve of his jaw, the small scar on his cheekbone.
your thumb brushing over the tiny mole beneath his lips.
you adored it so much.
he looks so much younger in sleep.
the weight of the world finally lifted off his shoulders.
tears filling your eyes, finding happiness from the sight of your man finally resting.
you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“sleep well, baby…”
you ran your fingers through his hair, warmth and joy in your chest from seeing him like this.
it's warm and quiet in your shared room with heeseung, the only sound being the soft hum of the fan overhead and heeseung's steady breathing beside you. snoring away without a care in the world, unbothered by the fact that you've been trying and failing to fall asleep for almost an hour.
falling asleep in heeseung's arms was always bittersweet, he smelled good and he loved to hold you close - but every shift of his body against yours reminded you just how close the two of you were. and how intoxicating feeling his bare skin against yours really was. every sleepy sigh, every time his chest pressed against your skin, arms tightened around your waist - had a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
heeseung basically slept on top of you, like he can never fully leave you alone, even when unconscious. and tonight it was unbearable. your eyes following the twirl of the fan above your heads for another minute before you're finally turning toward him. frustrated and restless as your fingers push the soft strands of hair back on his forehead.
"hee," you whisper. met with more snores. he looks so pretty sound asleep beside you, it was almost unfair. all the sharpness in his features seem to disappear the second he's unconscious. no sight of his teasing smirk, no cocky tilt of his head. just long dark hair falling messily across his forehead and pretty lips pursed in the cutest of pouts.
his lashes rest against the tops of his flushed cheeks, the bridge of his nose shiny from your moisturizer he couldn't keep himself from stealing. his fingers twitch every now and then in his sleep, pulling your body against his without even realizing it. you can't seem to tear your gaze with him, not embarrassed to admit how badly you wanted him even now.
if not more. this version of him feels rare. quiet. defenseless. the same boy who spends all day running his mouth and simultaneously making you laugh is suddenly just still. heeseung shifts in his sleep, letting out the softest of sighs and that's enough to have you teetering over the edge.
you're moving before you can talk yourself out of it, carefully wiggling out of his grasp and swinging a leg over his hips. you shift until you're sat comfortably on his lap, sticky panties pressed against the crotch of his pajama pants as your nipples pebble against his chest. "hee," you try again, whinier this time - head tilting up until you're able to press a line of soft kisses against his skin.
your hips move as if they've got a mind of their own, soft moans falling from your lips as you chase a pace that'll satiate the ache between your legs. you press down harder, teeth grazing his clammy skin as your fingers tangle in his soft hair. he shifts beneath you, cock growing hard without him even realizing why and the sudden press of it has your hips stuttering.
that wakes him up. a quiet groan leaves him immediately, brows puling together as he blinks slowly into the darkness - confused with the new weight pinning him against the mattress. "...baby?" he mumbles, voice deep and rough from sleep. his eyes focus on the sight of you on top of him, hips rolling slowly against his with your face buried in his neck.
his senses come to life one by one, a low curse falling from his lips when he can fully feel how wet you are through your panties. "oh, fuck." he says through a chuckle, hand sliding down the arch of your back before settling on your hip, gently guiding the movement of them. "look at you go," he says almost awestruck, watching the desperate roll of your hips as you trail a wet line of kisses from his neck to his chest.
"don't," you warn, head lifting to scowl down at him. yet there isn't much bite in your words. not while you were holding back the whimpers that threatened to spill. "what's the matter?" he says softly, head tilting to the side as his eyes trace over your features, obvious amusement riddling his. "isn't this what you wanted, babe? attention. you couldn't even let me sleep..." he feigns annoyance, hips lifting to meet every last one of your hurried grinds while his hand sneaks beneath the lace of your panties.
his brows shoot up slightly when his fingers find your wet slit. "fuck," he mumbles. "since when were you this needy, baby?" you're scoffing, dark eyes rolling yet your hips don't miss a beat. "don't call me needy," you whine, the soft chuckle he lets out vibrating against your chest.
heeseung leans down to press a lazy kiss to your forehead, trailing his lips down the side of your face while his fingers toy mindlessly with your clit. "you're making a mess all over me, baby. what else am i supposed to call you?" his teeth graze your skin gently, teasing you before he's biting down fully - earning a surprised yelp from you which he meets with another laugh.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ JAY ♡
sunlight bleeds through the curtains. too bright. too early. the night had came and went and you still haven't moved from jay's bed since you were sneaking into his room hours ago. you had told yourself that it would be quick, just enough to get it out of your system and you'd be back in your own bed before the clubs were closing. that was six hours ago.
"shit," you're jerking up right in his bed, hair a mess, heart racing as you pat around the sheets in search of your phone. the time displayed on your screen in big mocking font: 08:43. there were three missed texts from your roommate, rightfully wondering where the hell you were.
yuna babe <3
lol where'd u disappear to? | 00:34
u better not be with hyunjin!!!! | 00:59
u alive lol? | 02:41
you feel the way your heart sinks. "fuck," you sigh, guilt settling in your chest as your eyes shift to where jay lays beside you. he's fast asleep beside you without a care in the world, sprawled on his back with the blanket tangled with his legs, boxers riding dangerously low, chest completely bare. he has one arm tucked behind his head, lips parted slightly in his sleep.
and annoyingly, you can't ignore how good he looks. too good. you sit there staring for a second too long, taking in his pretty soft features while trying to figure out how you manage to keep ending up here. trying to wrap your mind around the timeline of when you became this girl, accepting the bare minimum because at least it was something. even though you knew jay couldn't care less.
he shifts slightly in his sleep, brows pinching together for a second before relaxing again. the movement of his legs is kicking the blanket lower and your eyes follow the movement, catching sight of the bulge that presses against the fabric of his underwear. your entire body tightens. "oh my god," you're muttering quietly to yourself.
you should leave. you absolutely should leave. yuna was known for popping in on him after her morning run. she could be here any minute. this was so bad. but despite knowing all that, you can't keep yourself from kneeling beside him on the mattress. hands moving on their own accord, catching the waistband of his boxers. you're tugging slowly, carefully - eyes following the way his cock springs free from the fabric.
and the way your mouth waters is every bit of embarrassing. still you don't let that get in your way, teeth cutting into your lip as your hand wraps around the base of his cock, head leaning down to press a faint kiss to the tip of it.
jay reacts immediately, even asleep. his cock jumps in your grasp, a low sound leaving his lips - somewhere between a groan and a sign. "...mmh," his hand lifts instinctively, tangling in your soft curls as his eyes blink open. they flutter at the sight of you, tongue dragging along his length. "fuck, baby." he mumbles sleepily, grip tightening in your hair. "you're still here?" he had grown used to you sneaking out before the sun was even up. "yuna's gonna be here any minute..." his words trail off, the groan he lets out stealing the rest of the sentence.
you're nodding distractedly, hand working against his balls while you suck kisses into his skin. "i know," jay's letting out a soft laugh, hips lifting slightly in hopes you'd take more of him into your mouth, though his words don't match his actions.
"so why do you have my dick in your mouth instead of leaving?" you hate the way the words sting and you don't miss the smug smirk that sits on his lips. you press another kiss against his skin anyway, opening up your mouth a bit wider as your lower your head. his cock is heavy against your tongue and you're sucking softly, grinning at the curse he lets slip.
you watch the way his eyes flutter, head hitting against the wall behind his bed as he bites back a groan. "fuck, i love your mouth." he sighs, hips rutting up to meet the bob of your head. his hand tightens instinctively in your hair before he's lifting his head to get a good look at you between his legs. dark gaze somewhere between exhausted and completely gone for you.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ JAKE ♡
jake wakes up feeling needy. the type of needy that has his entire body aching, cock throbbing as he reaches for your before he's even fully conscious. your sleeping body fits so nicely against his chest and you melt into his grasp as if it were instinct. it's freezing in your shared room, but the blanket covering your body feels hot against his skin. yet, he refuses to put any space between your bodies, he's letting out a soft huff as his arms tighten around your waist.
your body shifts in his grasp. just slightly, but enough. a sleepy sigh falling from your lips as you press back against him without even realizing what you're doing. he's hissing, catching his lower lip between his teeth to keep from moaning out. "fuck..." he's whispering into the dark.
his eyes stay trained on the back of your head, already deciding that he's lost this battle with himself. you're so warm against him, his shirt swallowing your frame yet your hard nipples still press against the fabric. he can make out the outline of your ass perfectly and he's not hesitating with lifting his hips to meet the swell of flesh. you look so pretty. long lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted slightly - completely unaware of what you're doing to him right now.
jake's careful with the way he lowers his hand, fingers grasping the hem of your shirt and slowly lifting it over your ass. you don't even shift and his eyes are zeroing in on your lack of panties. "oh my god..." he sighs, reaching lower to squeeze at the flesh. and he feels the way his cock jumps against his boxers.
you're humming sleepily, pushing back into his touch as he palms at your ass. his free hand slips into his boxers, carefully pulling his cock from it's confines - groaning softly as his hand wraps around the thickness. "baby..." he whispers softly against your shoulder, his cock resting against your ass.
he doesn't hesitate with rutting his hips up, hand holding his cock steady against your ass. a shudder runs down his spine, eyes fluttering as he grinding himself against you. a sleepy smile tugging at his mouth despite himself. wet kisses press lazily against your bare shoulder, lips lingering while his hips roll against yours.
"wake up for me," he murmurs into your skin, teeth nipping at the kisses he's left behind. you're letting out the tiniest noise, still half asleep - but jake nearly melts at the sound. so embarrassingly gone for you. his thrusts are rough and thoughtless, body shifting until his cock is falling between your cheeks.
his heavy cock slides from your ass to your wet pussy, soft lips wrapping around him. he curses, eyes fluttering as he fucks against you - the tip of his cock hitting against your clit. that's what finally wakes you, a breathy moan falling from your lips as you shift. "...jake?" your voice comes out wrecked with sleep. he's chuckling softly, in slight disbelief of himself - but not enough to stop.
"mmh," he's planting another kiss to your shoulder, hips angling so his cock is dragging against your clit perfectly. "oh my god," you're gasping, legs spreading wider for him. "you woke me up," you complain but it doesn't hold much weight paired with your moan. jake's letting out a soft laugh against your skin, completely unashamed.
"i missed you," he confesses, a hand sneaking up the front of your shirt to take your nipples between his fingers. "you were literally holding me," you giggle, hips moving back to meet his thrusts.
his cock throbs between your legs, threatening to slip past your wanting hole. his thrusts are needy and untimed, the way your pussy drips against him making it easier for him to fuck against you. "wasn't enough," he groans, the honestly in his voice is enough to make your stomach flip.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SUNGHOON ♡
sunghoon wakes up with a frown. not a real one, just that sleepy, mildly annoyed expression he'd always get when something was interrupting his sleep. most nights its you shifting around beside him every five seconds struggling to get comfortable. tonight, although it's still you - it's something entirely different.
you tried and fail to fall asleep at least fifteen times tonight, but as the hours ticked by you couldn't seem to ignore the ache between your legs. and how hot your boyfriend looked sound asleep wasn't helping either. his sweats riding low on his hips, showing off that carefully worked on v-line, abs on fully display and the fading hickeys you left on his chest on full display.
you wanted him. badly. but he was tired, exhausted even. six rounds would do that to a person. but you couldn't seem to keep your hands to yourself no matter how much you knew he hated being woken up. it started as absentminded strokes against his chest, fingers dipping lower to trace the indents of his stomach. it was close to innocent at one point, until your eyes were landing on the crotch of his sweats and your mind was being flooded with images from hours before.
you're reaching past the waistband before you can think twice about it, hand wrapping around his cock and stroking softly. you feel him harden against your palm, soft groans falling from his lips at your touch. his eyes are fluttering slightly, hips shifting as his gaze finds you. "what are you doing?" he says through a chuckle.
a grin spreads across your features, head tilting to the side to look up at him. "...nothing," something between a laugh and a whimper falls from his lips, his hips lifting to meet the steady pump of your hand. "liar," he sighs, head lulling to the side. he felt like his body was on fire, shaking off the last bits of sleep as pleasure takes over instead.
he's reaching a hand forward to tangle in your hair, "you didn't get enough earlier?" he teases, smiling softly down at you. you're shaking your head quickly, hand moving over his length - your thumb rubbing against his tip whenever you can reach it. he catches the way your thighs press together, hips rolling slowly to create some type of friction. the movements are subtle, but unfortunately sunghoon notices everything.
especially when it comes to you.
his sleepy smile widens slightly, fingers tightening in your hair before tugging your head up toward him. "that desperate, huh?" he glares, jutting his lips out to point at the slow roll of your hips. you glare weakly at him, but your hand never stops moving against him. "don't make fun of me," you pout.
"i'm not," he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep. "i'm enjoying myself." his hips lift again on instinct, breath catching quietly as your thumb drags over him just right. his eyes squeeze shut for a second before reopening slower than before, gaze heavy when it settles on you. and his cock twitches in your palm, shocked at how hot you were.
the thin strap of your night gown falling lazily off of your shoulder, pretty nipples peaking against the fabric. the lace presses gently against your soft skin, skirt of your dress all bunched up to reveal the tops of your thighs. and it doesn't help that he can still taste your arousal on his lilps.
suddenly he's no longer sleepy, his need to tease you melting into something warmer. something hungrier. and you barely have a second to react before his hands are reaching for your waist, that familiar look in his eyes as he tugs you body up. "c'mere." he mumbles, guiding you over him until you're straddling his lap properly.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SUNOO ♡
sunoo is impossible to wake up. you've learned that the hard way. you've tried everything in the months that the two of you been together. shaking his shoulder? nothing. calling his name? barely a twitch. screaming fire as loud as you can? that'd earn you a tired groan as he rolled onto his side.
so your hopes are low when your pressing close against him, face nuzzled in the crook of his neck as your thigh hooks over his hip. he's so warm underneath you, chest raising and falling slowly as he slept. you almost feel bad for how hard you're trying to wake him, grinding slowly against his thigh as soft moans slip against his ear. he shifts slightly and that has your heart jumping.
"sunoo," you sigh, pressing down harder against him and moaning a bit louder this time. and to your surprise, his entire body jolts slightly beneath you. "oh my god," he mumbles instantly, still half asleep but the throb between his legs is unmistakeable.
you hide your face against his shoulder, embarrassed now that he's woken up. sunoo blinks slowly into the dark, completely confused at first. but his hands settle on your waist out of habit, brain still trying to process why you're practically in his lap at three in the morning. then you're moving against his leg again and realization settles in.
a sleepy smile spreads across his face immediately. "no way," he whispers, voice wrecked with sleep. "you woke me up because you're horny?" it's hard to mask the disbelief in his tone.
"sunoo," you groan, which he's meeting with the softest laugh. "that's crazy," he murmurs, clearly too pleased by the fact. "you couldn't even sleep?" you shake your head against him, teeth nibbling at his lower lip as your hips roll needily. sunoo's expression melts instantly. he loves seeing you like this. loves knowing you were laying here awake, needy enough to wake him up for help.
you're giggling softly despite the ache that spreads throughout your body. "you're so annoying." he's shrugging, "and you're obsessed with me," the smugness in his tone has you reaching down to pinch his arm, weakly. "ow," he pouts, hands gentle on your waist as his thumbs rub slow circles beneath your shirt while he looks at you with sleepy affection. he's setting his hand on the top of your head, pushing your hair back from your forehead.
"you're so cute right now," he says softly.
your pout matches his. "i'm literally struggling." you groan into his shoulder again, hips rolling for emphasis. sunoo is immediately wrapping both arms around you tighter, "that's the cute part," he laughs, burying his face against your neck with a sleepy sigh. his hands drop slightly until he's able to reach your hips, using his grip to guide your movements. the warmth of your pussy against his thigh pulling a soft moan from his lips.
"mmh. there she is," he mumbles and you're whining out, head tilting to the side. "you're enjoying this too much," you say through a soft gasp, the soft press of his lips against your skin sending a warmth through your body. he laughs and it's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. sucking a trail of wet kisses up your neck until he's able to brush his lips against your ear, whispering. "you woke me up by rubbing your pussy against me, baby. what did you think was going to happen?"
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ JUNGWON ♡
it all felt so real. your hands on him. your voice. the way you look at him. how good tasted against his tongue. your lips on his skin. he could feel himself fucking into you, the familiar stretch of your pussy around his cock had precum spilling into you. it felt so real, until reality started to seep in. just as your fingers knit into his hair, lips finding his neck - his eyes are shooting open and he's back in his room.
you're fast asleep beside him, rather than withering and whining below him. one of his hoodies covers your warm body, back pressed against his chest and your legs tangled with his. your hair is a mess, makeup smudged but you still look so pretty. and you smell so good. sweet and warm and all his.
everything about you is so intoxicating that it completely ruins his ability to think rationally right now. especially with how hard he was, cock straining against his shorts. his eyes squeeze shut, trying to calm himself as you shift closer in your sleep - ass pressed firmly against his length. it doesn't work.
a quiet breath falls from his lips, hand sliding over your waist to hold your body tight against his. he can't keep his mind from replaying images of his dream. paired with what he actually knows you look like when he's buried inside of you, it makes falling back asleep nearly impossible. he's fully awake now.
awake and aware of every little detail of you. of how dangerous you were even while asleep. your hair is spread messily across the pillow, skin warm against his greedy hands, lashes long and deerlike. you look so peaceful it almost irritates him, like you have no idea what you do to him. what you're doing now.
his eyes drag slowly over your face, the tiny crease between your brows from sleeping on your side. the way your nose scrunches faintly every few breaths. your lips. plump and pink and prettiest wrapped around his cock. fuck. jungwon swallows thickly, dick seeming to grow harder at the thought.
his hand tightens on your hip, pulling you back more firmly against him without even thinking about it. the tip of his cock nudges against the curve of your ass through the fabric of your clothes and you're letting out a soft sigh in your sleep from the feeling. that nearly kills him. jungwon muffles his grunt by burying his face into the back of your neck, breathing you in and it makes his head feel fuzzy.
"you're actually evil..." he murmurs quietly against your skin.
and in that moment he's deciding enough is enough. he's gentle when shaking you, soft hand on your shoulder as he presses even softer kisses to your back and shoulder. you stir immediately, face twitching as you shift beneath him. "won?" you mumble, eyes squinting while you turn to face him.
jungwon's leaning down to press his lips to yours, hand reaching down to tug at the hem of your shorts. "need you," he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to get a good look at your face. "take these off," you can't help the laugh that breaks through, your fingers easily knitting themselves in his hair.
"you woke me up for that?"
if he feels even the slightest bit embarrassed he doesn't show it, just nods his head simply as he works on tugging your shorts down your legs. "you were all over me in my dream," he mumbles quietly, grinning to himself when you wiggle your hips - allowing your shorts to slip down. "i woke up and needed you all over me for real," his head dips to the side, pressing a line of soft kisses against your skin.
you're giggling at his lame explanation, tilting your head to the side to give his lips more room to roam around your neck. your legs spread easily for him, back arching when the tip of his cock meets your entrance. "well," you sigh, angling your hips in a way that makes it easy for him to slip right in. "let's make your dreams come true then."
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ RIKI ♡ (…burn out loser couple)
riki didn't believe in patience. or overthinking. so when he wakes up wanting you, he doesn't hesitate to act on it. the desperate need hits him all at once the second he opens his eyes and sees you laying beside him in his bed like you belonged there. like you owned it.
your sweater had ridden up sometime through the night, exposing the curve of your waist and the soft skin of your thigh beneath the blanket. you're so warm, that's the first thing he noticed when he was first laying beside you. riki's stare lingers fora second too long, because fuck, you look unreal like this.
sweet lips set in the cutest pout, just begging to be kissed. by him. cute little button nose smushed against his pillow. and he couldn't seem to get over the way you smell. it's a sweet mixture of his cologne and your signature rose scent. it was enough to drive him mad.
"you're kidding," he's muttering under his breath, eyes landing on the bruise just below the collar of your sweatshirt. he reaches out slowly, pushing your shirt out of the way to reveal the hickeys he's successfully sucked into your skin. marking you, claiming you. and that's exactly when he's deciding that he needed you.
instead of trying to go back to sleep like a normal person, he's pulling the blanket up slightly and sliding down the bed until he's able to fit himself between your legs. you don't even stir at first, still sleeping peacefully while he hooks your thighs over his shoulders taking his time with breathing you in.
strong hands squeeze your legs absentmindedly before he's leaning forward, pressing a string of lazy kisses against the damp fabric covering your pussy. his tongue brushes against your folds, darkening the already wet lace. that's what finally gets a reaction out of you. a soft breath falling from your lips as your body twitches slightly beneath him.
the grin that spreads across riki's features is immediate. "rise and shine," he murmurs against your skin, another soft kiss pressed into your panties as his eyes lift to look up at you. your eyes are barely open, confusion written all over your features as you stare down at him. "riki?" he's mouthing at your clothed pussy, only able to muster out a distracted, "mmh?" the sound vibrates against you.
you groan, the sound a mixture of fatigue and pleasure. riki doesn't care which and judging from the way your hips lift to meet his mouth, you don't either. "what time is it?" you're sighing, hand searching for your phone on the bed.
"no idea," riki's words are muffled against you, hands reaching up to hook into the sides of your panties - carefully tugging them down your legs. "i'm horny," he says it like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world. and you're letting out a shocked giggle. "and that's my problem?" he ignores the bite in your tone, mouth closing around your clit as his tongue laps against it.
you're gasping, hand shooting down to hold his face to you. "you're lucky i like you," you mumble, hips rolling to match the strokes of his tongue. riki is peeking up, the corner of his mouth lifting into a teasing grin. "you love me," he challenges daring you to tell him otherwise.
you don't because you can't and that's good enough for him. you feel his grin against your thigh as he dips his head back down and you're linking your ankles behind his back, caging him between your legs.
