SUMMARY: When your best friend tells you that you deserve better, and shows you exactly how.
WC: 2.8k words
DISCLAIMERS: smut…. [ minors / ageless blogs dni! ] marijuana usage, intak catching a stray sorry poopie pie, kissing, hickeys, dry humping, finger riding, uhhhh p in v. unprotected Btw (wrap b4 u tap!!!! ok???) and that’s it i think idk im just here for gangnam style
The end credits rolled across the screen in a blur of muted colors, the soft glow from the TV casting long shadows across Jiung's living room. The last remnants of your shared joint had burned out thirty minutes ago, the ashtray on the coffee table holding a thin curl of smoke that dissipated into nothing.
You were nestled against his side, your legs tangled with the warmth of his body, a familiar comfort due to years of friendship.
His fingers had been idly tracing patterns on your thigh for the past few minutes — mindless, absent strokes that you barely registered until the silence stretched. The movie's end left a vacuum, and you shifted, turning your head to look at him.
His face was half-lit by the screen's fading light, his jaw relaxed, eyes half-lidded. "So," You said, your voice a little rough from the quiet, "The girl from the bar. You never told me how it went."
Jiung's thumb paused its circular motion for a beat, then resumed. "Which one?" He snickered. You snorted. "Pig." Your voice mumbled. "I don't know? The one with the red top who you kept eyeing last Saturday."
He nodded as if he was gathering his thoughts. "Ohh... yeah. She was fine. Just… not really my type." He shrugged, the movement shifting your weight against him. "We hooked up, I don’t know it was pretty forgettable."
You hummed, tracing the seam of his sweatshirt with your nail. "Shame."
"What about you?" He asked, his tone light but his eyes catching yours. "How's that guy you've been seeing? Intak, was it?"
Another snort escaped you before you could stop it. "Right. Yeah. He's… boring."
His eyebrows lifted. "Boring? That's not what you said when you first started talking about him."
You let out a long breath, the frustration you'd been carrying for weeks bubbling to the surface. "He's boring in bed, Jiung. Like, painfully boring. I don't think he's aware that there's more than one position. And every time I try to steer things, he just…" You sighed, looking down at your lap and picking at a loose thread on your jean skirt. "I don't know, I just… I haven't had good sex in months. God, I don't remember the last time I came with someone else. It's embarrassing."
Jiung's hand on your thigh stilled again, then his fingers curled slightly, pressing into your skin. "Oh… that's fucked," He said quietly, his voice dropping. "You deserve better than that."
You felt a flush creep up your neck, the intimacy of the conversation settling between you like a weight. His thumb resumed its motion — slower now, more deliberate, pressing in small circles against the inside of your thigh. It was such a habit between you two, this casual touch.
He'd always been tactile: a hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist, fingers brushing yours when you passed something to each other. But tonight, with the room dim and your blood still humming from a comedown, it felt different.
"Better…?” You repeated, your voice barely a whisper. "Like what?"
He didn't answer right away until his eyes found yours, dark and serious. "Someone who actually pays attention. Who knows what he's doing and makes sure your needs come first, every time."
Your breath caught. The air between you thickened. His thumb kept moving — slow, hypnotic circles on your thigh, higher now, practically ghosting where you ached the most.
You could feel the heat radiating off him, the room felt so silent and still that you could practically hear the my de steady thump of his heartbeat . "Jiung?" you said slowly, the words falling out before you could think.
"Hm?"
"Can you kiss me?"
His eyes flared. He didn't ask if you were sure and he sure as hell didn't hesitate because without a second thought, his hand slid from your thigh to your waist, pulling you toward him before his mouth was on yours.
The kiss started soft — his lips brushing yours once, twice, testing, almost shy despite the hunger that possessed his eyes. His other hand came up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head as he kissed you slowly.
You felt his tongue trace the seam of your lips, quietly asking for more, and you parted for him, a quiet sound escaping your throat as he slipped inside.
The kiss deepened by degrees, each pass of his tongue unhurried, as if he had all night. And maybe he did…. Your high was long gone, and you were sobering up, but this still felt like a different kind of float — weightless and suspended in the thick air between you.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breath was warm, uneven. "Do you want to...?" He whispered, thumb stroking your cheek.
You answered by pulling him back in for another kiss.
You shifted, your body moving on instinct, swinging a leg over his lap until you were now straddling him, your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips. His hands dropped to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the growing hardness beneath his jeans, pressing against your core, and a fresh wave of heat flooded through you.
He broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, down the column of your throat, pausing where your pulse fluttered. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss there, tongue flicking over the skin, then sucked gently — a slow, deliberate tug that made your breath hitch. He didn't rush. He moved his mouth lower, kissing the hollow of your collarbone, the swell of your chest above the neckline of your shirt.
Each kiss a promise.
He sucked gently, teeth grazing, and you moaned, your hips rocking forward involuntarily.
"Fuck," He breathed against your skin, his voice rough. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
"Show me," You whispered, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Show me what I deserve."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, lips swollen and slick. "I'll take care of you," He promised, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. "Okay?"
You nodded, and he kissed you again — softer this time, but no less intense. His hands roamed up your sides, slipping under the hem of your shirt, his palms hot against your skin. He pushed the fabric up, and you broke the kiss to let him pull it over your head, tossing it aside.
His eyes raked over you, hungry, appreciative, taking in the black lace of your bra. "Tell me what you want," He muttered, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs grazing the underside of your breasts. "I want to hear you say it."
You swallowed. "I need you to touch me."
He nodded, and without another word his fingers traced the edge of the lace, following the curve of your breast, featherlight. "Can I take this off?"
“Yes.” You answered quickly before he reached behind you, fingers fumbling with the clasp.
It took two tries, his touch uncertain against your skin, before it finally gave way. Soft giggles tumbled from your lips, breaking the tension that had settled between you. He grinned back, a flush creeping up his neck, before your bra fell away.
He didn't move immediately, but he looked at you, bare in the low light, his expression soft and reverent.
You craved to see more of him too, drawn in by something you couldn’t quite name. Your hands slipped beneath the hem of his shirt while you glanced up and searched for his permission. He gave a quiet nod, setting something in your chest before you lifted the fabric and over his head.
Quickly, Jiung leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of your breast, then another, lower, until his mouth closed over your nipple. His tongue circled slowly, deliberately, the wet heat of it making you arch into him. He sucked gently, then harder, teeth grazing, and you gasped, your hips grinding against his lap.
He switched sides, giving the same attention to the other delicate bud, his hand cupping the first, thumb brushing over the stiff peak. All the while, his other hand roamed your back, your waist, your hip — steady, grounding touches that kept you anchored.
Minutes passed like that. The only sounds were moans — yours and his — punctuated by wet kisses and the rustle of fabric. He worked his mouth down your chest, and with each touch, your hips ground against his lap, drawing groans from deep in his throat that matched your own.
"Lift up," He murmured, voice husky.
You raised your hips, and he reached beneath your skirt. The warmth of his hand hit your wet skin, and you shivered. He sat back, taking you in—your thighs spread over his lap as his fingers skimmed over your soaked panties.
"God, you're beautiful," He mumbled, almost to himself.
You gasped as he began teasing you through the fabric, rubbing slow circles that made you whimper, your hips tilting toward his touch.
"So wet for me already," he whispered, his voice thick and rough. "All this from just kissing?"
You couldn't answer — couldn't think, really — as he slid your panties aside and found you with devastating accuracy. His thumb pressed against your clit in slow, deliberate circles, and your head fell back.
The pressure was light, teasing, maddening in its restraint. He kept circling, kept you suspended in that exquisite tension for what felt like an eternity before sliding lower. One finger pressed inside you, just the tip, and then he stilled completely, letting you feel the stretch, the anticipation, the weight of what was coming.
"God, please more," You breathed.
He pushed deeper, inch by inch, until his finger was buried to the knuckle. He curled it gently, searching, and when he found that spongy spot inside you, your whole body jolted.
"There?" He asked, his voice a low whisper.
You nodded frantically. He pumped his finger slowly, watching your face, learning what made you gasp and what made you moan. After a few strokes, he added a second finger, stretching you, filling you. The pace was maddeningly slow — each thrust a deliberate drag against your inner walls, his thumb still working your clit in lazy circles.
"You feel so good," He whispered, his breath warm against your skin as you brought your lips to his. The words came slower now, deliberate, each one spoken like a promise. "Could do this all night. Just watch you fall apart on my fingers." He pulled back just enough to speak the words directly against your mouth.
You were trembling, the pleasure building in slow waves, cresting but not breaking. He kept you right on the edge, his rhythm steady, unhurried. His mouth claimed yours completely once again, his tongue moving in a cadence that mirrored the movement of his fingers, and you gasped into the kiss.
He swallowed your moans, his free hand threading through your hair, anchoring you to him as he deepened further. His tongue tasted you like he was trying to memorize every part of you. You couldn't think or do anything but feel the dual assault of pleasure — the kiss and his hand working in perfect synchronization, building you higher and higher.
When you tried to pull back for air, he followed after you, refusing to break contact, his lips moving to your jaw, your neck, before returning to your mouth with renewed intensity. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pressure, and he groaned against your skin — a sound of pure satisfaction that sent another wave of heat through you.
"Ji—I'm so close—" You said softly.
"Not yet," He whispered.
Before you could protest, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness, a whine escaping before you could stop it.
He lifted you with ease, and you understood immediately — your hands already moving to unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down along with his boxers, and then he was there, his cock springing free, hard and flushed and impossibly thick.
The sight alone made you whimper, heat flooding through you as your mouth went dry. "Oh, what? You like it?" The smugness in his voice was unmistakable.
You rolled your eyes even as your cheeks burned. "Please, shut up."
His low chuckle told you he was thoroughly enjoying your reaction. When you settled back against him, the weight of his cock pressed hot and heavy against your core, already slick and ready. He reached down to guide himself, dragging the tip through your folds with agonizing slowness, coating himself in your wetness.
The friction made you gasp, your hips instinctively seeking more, but he held back — rocking against you instead, letting the head catch at your entrance before sliding away again, building the tension until you trembled.
"Please," You begged, your voice breaking with raw need.
"Hm?" He kissed up your throat, then toward your ear. "Tell me what you need."
"I need you inside me... like now."
He let out a shuddering breath. "That's all I wanted to hear." He pushed in slowly — the head stretching you first, a delicious burn that made you gasp. Then his shaft, inch by inch, filling you so completely you could feel every ridge, vein, and pulse of him.
His eyes locked on yours, watching your face as he sank deeper, and you couldn't look away or do anything but feel the overwhelming fullness of him claiming you.
When you were fully seated, buried to the hilt, he stilled. His forehead pressed against yours, both of you breathing hard, trembling with the effort of restraint. You could feel him throbbing inside you, hot and thick, stretching you in ways that made your toes curl.
"Fuck," He breathed, his voice wrecked. "You feel—God, you're perfect."
He began to move — not fast, but deep. Long, rolling thrusts that dragged against your walls, hitting your spot every time with an aching precision. He set a rhythm that was almost lazy, but each stroke was deliberate, measured, and designed to unravel you completely. His hands roamed your body, cupping your breast, gripping your hip, threading through your hair.
"You feel so good," He said against your lips. "This is what you deserve, pretty girl."
Your nails dug into his back, and he moaned, his pace increasing just slightly. He pulled almost all the way out — the loss making you whimper — then thrust back in, a sharp snap of his hips that made you cry out.
"Yeah? You like that?"
"Mmph—Don’t stop—"
And he didn't. He kept that beat — slow, then a little faster, before slowing again, keeping you suspended in that maddening space between pleasure and desperation.
He talked you through it, his voice low and rough, telling you how perfect you felt, how he'd been wanting this for so long, how he was going to make you come so hard you forgot every boring hookup you'd ever had.
You were close again, the pressure coiling in your belly, your knees sinking deeper into the couch cushions. He shifted, angling his hips, and hit a spot that made you see stars — white-hot pleasure shooting through your entire body.
"Right there! Please—"
"Come on," He praised, his voice a command wrapped in a caress. "Look at me. I want to see your face."
You held his gaze as your orgasm tore through, a wave so intense it stole your breath and blurred your vision. Your body clenched around him, pulsing, pulling him deeper as you shattered completely. A broken cry tore from your lips, unrestrained, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating through your chest.
His own release followed moments later, triggered by the rhythmic squeeze of your walls around him. He buried himself one final time, his hips stuttering as he spilled hot inside you, filling you with pulse after pulse of his release.
His face contorted with pleasure, a guttural moan escaping him as he rode out the waves, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.
When it was over, you collapsed on top of him, your face buried in his neck, your breath warm and uneven. Your bodies were still joined, both of you trembling with aftershocks, skin slick with sweat. After a long moment, he lifted his head, his expression soft, almost shy. "Was that… okay?"
You laughed, a breathless sound, and pulled him in for a slow, lazy kiss. "That," You finally whispered, "Is what I've been missing."
He laughed softly, his hands running up and down your back. "Told you, you deserved better."
You lifted your head to look at him, a lazy smile spreading across your face. "So was that a one-time thing, or…?"
He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, soft and sweet. "As long as you want it," He murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."
💌 mika’s message ok guys just shut up idk i didnt like this one so we’re gonna just act like it was ok so mika can feel better about herself. it was supposed to be in the car but i wasn’t feeling it so whatevs WHATEVS I GOTTA GO WE CANT TALK HEREEE , anyways btw haven’t advertised in a while but
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Their affection and how they deal with your affection
Summary: Being in a relationship comes with many aspects, one of them being affection. He’s giving it to you and you are giving it to him. But how would that look like?
Warnings: Lowkey angst for Jiungs part
Masterlist
Keeho
° A slow and patient lover
° Literally loves to take his time for you and even has ‘Loving Y/N‘ on his daily schedule on his phone. It’s random, but only at the end of the day. Who could blame him, though? He has a job, and he wants to have a life outside his relationship, so he tends to do it when everything and everyone is quieter than the night (which also happens to be at night, lol)
° But with him taking his time, you‘ll never feel unsatisfied. He doesn’t slow down his kisses while they happen, but he has breaks in between them where he just stares at you.
° Loves staring at you, by the way. Never in a creepy way, just appreciating your overall essence and how you simply exist (reminds me of those moments where you kind of get reminded that you live)
° In those times when he's raw and slow with you, he has his hand on your face like constantly. He doesn't need to cuddle or something (he rather much wants to see your face), but having something of you near his skin is still needed.
° He isn't all that big on physical affection, but he never shies away when you insinuate it.
° A hug from you from behind? He is putting his hands on yours. A kiss on the cheek? He's giggling for a short second
° Cuddling with him tends to happen when you two go to bed or are near it. Not that he hates them, he just likes the intimate feeling of it when its quieter
° But one thing Keeho excels at, where his most affection lies, is in his words towards you or about you.
° He loves talking about you to other people! He doesn't even need to be heard or seen by you for him to spread his love for you in the world. There is just something so beautiful about you that even others need to see it.
° That doesn't mean, however, that he never talks about you in front of you. He's even worse with his compliments and notions when you're there. Every single thing you put passion into is suddenly the biggest thing for him. Keeho is composed while you do it, all just to not distract you, but once you're done, he's ringing in your ear with all the compliments he can come up with.
° He's even detailed with his compliments! He goes into depth about your steps and how well thought out they were because of this or that reason while you just sit there completely overwhelmed
His reaction
° Nonchalant suddenly entered the chat, and it's staying until the room contains only you two
° But on a real note, he is not gonna giggle too loud or return the favor to the extreme if other people are around you two. Keeho doesn’t hate the eyes of others staring you two down, he is an idol, for God's sake, but he just doesn’t want people to be too uncomfortable with getting affection from others forced down their throat.
° Internally, however, he’s giggling and twirling around like a little kid. Just imagine a bunch of tiny Keehos jumping all around while the world around them is fuzzy. That’s what goes on inside his head.
° You kissing him makes him smile. You gifting him something makes him drown in compliments. You hugging him makes him relax. But he never goes over the top with showing his gratitude
° In private, though? When it's you two or some close friends? He’s more eager to return the affection
° You kissing him makes him kiss you back while giggling, you gifting him something results in him pepper kissing you, and you hugging him will give you one back
° He loves affection from you. So much that he doesn’t even have a ranking of it. All of it makes him feel special and so loved. No matter if it's small or big, affection is enough.
° But! Big one! When his brain is playing tricks on him and he’s all sad, your kisses are his common ground to gain back sensibility. His wide eyes stare at you with all that love but mainly admiration. He’s too sentimental to think straight, and you telling him to let it flow with your soft and caring kisses just sends him down the path he needs to be on.
Theo
° Does hitting the thigh softly count as affection? For Theo it does. Not only does he hit people when he’s laughing. He’s also softly hitting you to get your attention.
° A small hit on your hand or shoulder is completely normal for him, and you don't seem to mind it that much, so he doesn’t stop.
° He doesn’t hit you as hard as his friends, though, not because he lacks the respect for them but mainly just because. Theo just did it over the course of your relationship without any real thought.
° His affection doesn’t stop there, though. He’d be pretty stupid to stop right at the tip of the iceberg, wouldn’t he?
° Theo adores to tickle you. Not randomly, he hates that himself—but if the situation is right, he will start attacking you out of nowhere. You can sense it from his little neck kisses he uses to tease his actions, but before you can do anything about it, he’s already moving his hands up and down your sensitive body parts
° He leans more on you. You could be talking or working, and he’d lean his head on your shoulder, waiting patiently for you to turn to him and give him a small kiss. It doesn’t matter to him where or when, as long as he gets it. It's bearable to watch you be so observed.
° His favorite places to kiss you would always be the eyes and lips. Yes, eyes. You just need to close them for him to do it but he does it. One time you asked him why he likes doing it, and he admitted how it felt as if he was the closest with you that way. But the eyes are mostly happening if he’s feeling sentimental as fuck or drunk out of his mind. He needs to be in the right headspace to kiss the most beautiful aspect of your physical beauty (in his opinion).
° Lips, on the other hand, are what he kisses the most. Quick ones, slow and deep ones, and all that is in between. He just likes the feeling of your lips and the fact that you two are. Eyes are just for him to be close to you, but lips connect you two.
° Cuddles with you lying on his chest. It gives you two enough space to do your own thing while still observing the other. While he doesn’t mind being the one on your chest, the other way is what you tend to settle into too.
° He can do cuddles everywhere and anytime, but if he’s doing it for a shorter time and he’s aware of it, expect you two to just sit next to each other and lay each other's head on the other.
° He writes you little letters from time to time when he writes down what he loves so much about you and straight-up compliments you for all the things you did that he found impressive.
° But that doesn’t mean that he isn’t screaming compliments down your throat at the moment. He cheers for you, mostly quiet, he hopes for you, and he celebrates with you. Once you succeed at something, he is the first and last person to tell you how well you did. The letters are just more of an insight into his feelings towards your success. In the moment when you’re celebrating, he turns all his attention towards you.
His reaction
° Might not want to admit it, but he has become too acquainted with your affection to live longer periods without it
° There‘s just something about the way you simply do it that makes him feel so knocked out of life
° A kiss from you is one thing, but the rest? That’s where he questions if he ever was truly in love with anyone before you to begin with
° Theo just feels so at home whenever you do stuff for him, especially just because you wanted to
° Give him something you worked on? He’s close to tears
° Hug him because he feels alone and weirded out by himself? He’s actually crying his heart out
° He‘s utterly moved once you two are an item, and he never, never wants to let go of that feeling. It’s like he felt so new yet so familiar in his skin.
° You don‘t just do stuff for him to be nice, you see him. You love him!
Jiung
° Jiung is a quiet firework, something meaningful for the eyes but not loud enough to make you run and hide.
° He loves you the most with his actions. Making your life easier is a massive aspect he tries to achieve as much as possible. Mainly because he doesn’t want unnecessary work done but also because he simply wants you to live the way he thinks you deserve
° He helps around your house, he helps with work if you want him to, and he listens to you every single time you talk to him or around him.
° He talks to you, indulges in your little world inside your head, and lets you exist. May that be with his help or without it
° Jiung loves forehead kisses the most, giving and receiving. For him it just screams ‘I got you‘. There are times when he needs more than that, but usually the forehead kiss is the go-to. Jiung even developed a sixth sense when it comes to detecting whenever you need one.
° Jiung tends to kiss you more often than Keeho, but he’s definitely not the biggest kisser, again, he’s more of an action kind of lover than a touchy one.
° But that does not mean that he hates it! Quite the opposite. He loves the feeling of your touch on his body, but he also has the need to prove himself worthy of it before anything
° Once he gets over his blockade inside his body, he often just ends up with his head on your chest. He doesn’t even need to have something preoccupying him, as he just wants to breathe you in and out.
His reaction
° Affection from you always feels as if he achieved something great to deserve it. Ties back to his issue I talked about before, but also the feeling of being picked and chosen by you is making it feel like it
° Therefore I feel like he necessarily doesn’t have a favorite type of affection, anything is enough for him to feel that way.
° Kisses from you make him smile ear to ear while wanting to get more but always resorting to giving the decision to you.
° Forehead kisses are his way of grounding himself whenever you are around. He can regulate himself, but if you’re near and ready to help? He’s asking for the forehead kisses. But that‘s the only scenario where he asks for them.
° But then again, your affection is left for you to use. He doesn’t want to force you to do anything
° But whenever he gets affection, he’s smiling, he’s telling you sweet words, and he’s allowing himself to feel okay (Jesus, why is this full-blown angst?)
Intak
° Ah, I know you expect me to say that he loves you like a lost puppy, right?
° Well, he does, I think all of them do, but Intak loves you more with words. I think he’s the one who manages to show you the most of his love with straight-up talking to you.
° He yaps to you about his favorite things while also including you in them. He thinks of you doing things he did, he thinks of you and your opinion of certain things he likes
° Which often leads to dates where you guys just do new things or you do more things
° But that doesn’t mean that he isn’t kissing you like a madman at times
° He absolutely loves doing that. And his favorite part must be every part. There is no real answer, so you can expect nothing when he decides to lean in
° Kisses often happened with him. Once a day makes his heart scream in agony, and 10 times a day makes his head hurt, so he tends to end up with over 40 kisses a day if you guys have the time to kiss.
° He just uses kisses as a compensation for the lack of cuddles. He finds cuddles to be the highlight of love, mainly because you can be seen as one essence but also because he loves your body over his. For him not to have that all the time just pains him, so he needs to compensate for it with something near it. And that tends to be kissing.
° Cuddles are always something where you burn a few calories. Not because you move a lot but because HE moves a lot. He cannot stay still for a long while, or else his body feels weird and icky ( get it dude, totally get it) But because he wants to cuddle with you and have that closeness with you, he still drags you with him. It doesn’t even matter to him how you two cuddle. You could be on his chest, he could be on yours, all is fine with him until his body just decides it's time to change.
° Tells you ‘I love you’ even more than he can kiss you. Over text, in between kisses, especially while cuddling, and always through the TikToks he sends you. He isn't ashamed to tell you, if anything, he feels proud to be able to
His reaction
° Kisses from you? Nah, he’s whipped for nose kisses. The sweet appeal wraps him up in a warm blanket filled with euphoria.
° Often just asks you to give him some with his big brown eyes. But you would’ve given him some without him asking, you just like seeing those eyes giving you all those emotions
° Affection overall just makes him look at you with those wide eyes that are so mesmerising
° Feels a boost of confidence whenever you compliment him. He uses your words as a compass to just get comfortable with himself whenever he can't get to it himself
° Seconds after you compliment him, he just jumps at you and hugs you tightly. Not all the time , of course; he is a human who is socially aware, but when the situation is right, he’s lunging at you.
° If he had to choose his favorite type of affection, it always would resort to him admitting it's physical closeness, but I already explained that point.
Soul
° Oh, he likes to include you in stuff
° Like his life is yours and yours is his. Like inclusion of his S/O is his subtle way of showing his love towards them. The overall thought process must’ve been “I like them so much, I want them to be involved everywhere“. Is it a clever way to show affection? Well, if you think about it, it is sweet
° Soul over all likes to touch you to show his affection but his favorite to do must be cheek kisses. The sweet undertone, the innocent behind it just excites him to keep doing that over and over again until you two feel numb from all the skin on skin touch
° Pepper kisses to compensate his massive cuteness aggression and overall disbelief that he is very much an Item with you
° Kisses on the lips do happen, but if they happen, you usually do them. He isn’t hating them, but he adores over way more. Soul, however, does lip kisses at more intimate moments, more vulnerable moments where you two are at your most barest. Sincere talking while being too close to the other, celebrating a important win. That’s all he needs to kiss you on the lips. If he does them, they‘re also deep and slower because of emotions. Emotions guys!
° Cuddling with being tangled up together. He might switch a few times, depending on his mood or your habits but it often ends with you two being a hot mess
° Also cuddles throughout the day! Not all the time, obviously you two need to live a life but when you two have the time, you cuddle on the couch while one plays a game and the other jumps from one social media app to the other (or whatever people like to do on their free time)
° He isn’t shy to throw in a few compliments out of nowhere. His mind is always wondering and when it lands on you, he tends to think of recent things or overall things he noticed. And he never wants to keep those kind words to himself, so he‘ll just blur them out while you two do groceries or even worse, if you two try to fix your washing Maschine.
° Compliments and kind words come pretty often. He is a observer and if he sees you do something he knows you hold up to a high standard, that boy will scream from the top of his lungs how well you did or will do. Not just to ease your mind but also make you smile (he utterly loves your smile)
° Absolutely adores to make you gift himself. I believe he’s a creative person and he mostly lives it out with making you presents. He sees things, thinks how it would look at your place, on you or if you‘d like them and then he just does them, for you!
His reaction
° He giggles, he’s a giggler
° Every time you show him any kind of affection, he’s making weird sounds close to giggling. He’s just getting so overwhelmed with his own urge to show affection that it results in him giggling his mind out.
° His favorite type of kisses from you are always soft lip kisses. I’ve talked about this before, but his favorite mode for kisses will always be soft ones, but soft lip kisses? Yep, a make-out session in coming
° Hugs from you are the thing he wants the most. He just looks at you, tilts his head, and he gets what he wants. He just feels so at home and needs it to complete his day. If he’s away on tour or something and he can't get that hug, he needs your voice for compensation.
° He always varies with what hugs are his favorites, so the way he expresses his current favorite one is through even more weird noises from him
° You often bait him into making these noises because you like the sound of it so much
° And baiting him into doing these noises often happens through showering him with compliments.
Jongseob
° Jongseob is a lover who wants to exist with you. Therefore, he expresses his affection mostly with quality time. Just you two doing your own stuff while still being in the same space
° But that doesn’t mean that he allows silence to grow over you two. Nah, he’s a yapper, so he’s gonna talk while working, while doing nothing, and while looking over your stuff. He finds it beautiful to have such a connection where he is allowed to just be himself, internal and external therefore he yearns for it the most.
° Since he‘s a bit inexperienced, he has the same favorite kisses as you. Once you two are around 1 or 2 years together, he might lean towards lips, but hold your favorite type to a higher standard.
° Manages to detect your mood from your kisses. If you kiss him somewhere where he normally doesn’t get kissed, he knows you're excited to try something new. He returns the energy immediately.
° Make-out sessions happen the most with him. He is a pile of curiosity and impulsive decisions, and once he achieves a make-out session, he uses them to calm him down.
° Which led to different types of make-out sessions. If he’s kissing your lips the most, he’s trying to compensate for his love for you that's almost spilling over. If he’s kissing your entire face, he's trying to calm you down, and if you need to do most of the kisses, it's the opposite. But if you guys kissed all over the face, then you two are close to taking things a step further.
° But he’s only doing those make-out sessions with your consent. One uncertain expression or word and he’s stopping and resorting to holding you or taking care of you.
° Only cuddles you whenever you guys go to bed. Like that‘s his sign that it‘s time to close his eyes. But how you two cuddle is up to you. Everything is fine with him
° Touches you in other ways throughout the day, though. Hand-holding, hair-twirling, hugs—all of it at least once. He likes to touch you but in light ways that make him feel all bittersweet inside.
° Compliments however…yeah, if you guys don‘t know eachother for a long long time he might feel too awkward to say them often at first. He’s too taken back by your presence and all your good attributes to say understandable words so he resorts to showing most of his love through the actions listed before
° But once he feels comfortable enough, the compliments come rushing in. Every single time you do something, he’s on it
His reaction
° Awkward mess. But a cute one as well
° He is not used to such a thing, but he'll get around it after a few months of dating (or a few months of you simply doing it)
° Jongseob has that low, soft laughter whenever you show him any kind of affection. He often times questions himself if he should’ve reacted differently or should’ve been more direct with his love for your affection, so it results in that.
° But you never complain about it. If anything, you love the way he is reacting. Heck, any reaction is fine as long as he gives you one
° If he had to choose any type of affection he loves the most, it'll always be hugging. Cuddling is his melatonin, but hugging is his rareness.
° He loves it, especially when he’s feeling so vulnerable that he becomes straight-up nonverbal. All he needs and gets through the hugs is that reminder that you’re here. You don't even need to carry his baggage of worries on your shoulder, he will never want that for you, but you hugging him makes his brain calmer. He never could figure out why, but he does.
Genre: fluff, Intaks is a bit suggestive / keeho slaps readers ass / not proof read
—
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗Keeho: "Im heading out now!"
You’re halfway to the door, on your way to your nail appointment, when Keeho calls your name.
“Wait—” He steps forward, card pinched between his fingers. “Take this.”
You smile at the cute gesture. “Thanks, bro.”
You reach out to take it from him and— tug.
It doesn’t move.
You tug again, a little harder this time, and only then do you look up. Keeho is still holding onto the card firmly with a confused expression.
“Excuse me?” he says.
You blink at him. “What?”
He glances around the apartment like he’s looking around for an invisible person, one brow lifting slowly. “I don’t know who you’re calling bro,” he says slowly, “but it is definitely not me.”
You scoff, laughing. “Bro, it’s not that serious.”
His eyes go extra wide and you've never seen him so offended in your life.
“Not that serious?” he echoes, genuinely flabbergasted now. He straightens, nodding to himself. “Okay. Well. In that case—” He tugs the card out your hand and slips it right back into his wallet. “There’s absolutely no reason for your bro to be paying for your nails.”
Your laugh bursts out immediately. “Keeho—”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, lips twitching despite himself. “None of my business.”
You drop your things and throw your arms around his waist as you bury your face into his chest. “I’m sorry, baby,” you say, looking up at him now. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He sighs dramatically, but his arms come up around you anyway, settling low on your hips.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, already taking the card back out. “That’s what I thought.”
You feel him slip it into your back pocket and you yelp when his hand comes down to slap your ass firmly.
“And don't call me that again.” he adds quietly.
You grin into his shirt.
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗Theo: The first time you say it, it just slips out accidentally.
“Thanks, bro.”
Theo just laughs, finding it silly and cute. “Bro?” he repeats, amused, shaking his head. “Okay.”
The second time, he grins and nudges your shoulder. The third, he calls you “bro” right back, eyes bright, clearly trying to play along. It’s cute. Harmless.
So you keep doing it.
“Goodnight, bro.”
“Can you grab that for me, bro?”
“Miss you, bro.”
You're on the fifth time that day, and he's starting to not find it silly or cute anymore.
By the tenth, he exhales slowly through his nose and freezes mid-movement. When he turns to face you, his brows are drawn together, mouth twisted like he just tasted something sour.
“Okay,” he says, voice still calm but strained now. “You have to stop.”
You blink, lips twitching. “Stop what?”
“Calling me that.” He gestures vaguely, face scrunching again. “I don’t like it.”
The look of genuine irritation mixed with mild disgust sends you bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Oh my god,” you say, stepping closer. “Your face.”
You reach up to cradle his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.
“I'll try but,” you say, smiling down at him. “You just look really cute when you’re mad, how else am I gonna provoke you?”
“I’m not cute,” he mutters, but he leans into your touch anyway.
You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You are. And I’ll stop.”
He sighs, eyes closing, forehead resting against yours. “…Thank you.”
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗Jiung: You hadn’t seen Jiung all day, so by the time you get to him, you’re practically buzzing with excitement. But you're a little concerned; his texts earlier had been short, his tone just a little off.
The second you see him, you smile and greet him with a hug. “Hey, are you okay?”
He nods quickly. “Yeah. I’m good.”
You know better. Something’s definitely wrong but you also know Jiung. He’ll talk when he’s ready. So you don’t push. You just pull him into your arms later that night, settling into bed with his head tucked against your chest.
Your fingers slide through his hair, slow and soothing. His breathing evens out slowly but he stays quiet for a long time.
Then gently he whispers, “We’re… good, right?”
You pause, confused. “Yeah... of course we are. Why?”
He hesitates, fingers curling lightly into your shirt. “Well… earlier. When we were texting.” He paused, then continued. “You called me bro.”
You blink down at him as you try to hold back a laugh.
“That’s why you’ve been pouty all day?” you ask in disbelief.
He lifts his head just enough to frown. “I’m not pouty.”
You laugh outright this time, cradling his face and peppering his cheeks with kisses. “I’m sorry, baby,” you murmur between them. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It probably just came out wrong over text.”
His shoulders relax, the tension melting right out of him. He nods, eyes soft, cheeks a little pink.
“…Please don’t call me that again.” he says in the tiniest voice.
You smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Okay.”
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗Intak: You're lying beside Intak scrolling lazily on your phone while his hands drift over your body, his lips brushing your shoulder… then your neck.
Oh. He clearly wants something.
“You good, bro?” You say casually without looking up.
He freezes against you.
All at once, his mouth leaves your skin and his body pulls back as if you just burned him.
“…What did you say?” he asks, tone sharp.
You glance over, innocent. “I said, 'you good, bro?'"
His jaw tightens. “Don’t call me that.”
You smirk. “Why?”
“Because,” he says, sitting up straighter, annoyance flashing across his face, “I’m not your bro. I’m your boyfriend.”
You shrug, still scrolling. “It’s not that serious, bro.”
That does it.
He removes himself from you completely, scooting away to the very edge of the bed. His arms are crossed and he's looking anywhere but you.
You burst out laughing. “Intak—”
“Stop laughing,” he snaps, which only makes it worse.
He moves to get up, but you immediately cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him back down. “Nope. Come back.”
He struggles half-heartedly, stubborn as ever. “Let go.”
“No.”
“I said let go.” He whines.
You press your face into his back, laughing into his shirt. “You’re so dramatic.”
He goes still, still refusing to turn around.
“…Take it back,” he mutters.
You grin. “Take what back?”
“Im serious m." he says, still not looking at you. “Take it back.”
You squeeze him tighter. “Okay, okay. I take it back. I'm sorry my love.”
Finally, slowly, he relaxes. He turns just enough to look at you, expression still slightly annoyed.
“…Good,” he says.
He pulls you back against him and mumbles, “Don’t call me that again.”
You smile at exactly how effective the word was.
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗Soul: You've seen the "calling my boyfriend bro" trend in TikTok and decided to give it a try on Soul to see how he'd react.
You’re sitting together, comfortably tangled on the couch, when you casually say it. “Bro can you pass the remote.”
He doesn’t even look up. Just silently passes you in response, thumb still scrolling on his phone.
You blink.
“…Bro,” you say again, clearer this time.
He hums towards you waiting for you to continue.
You pout instantly. “Why aren’t you reacting?”
He finally looks at you, genuinely confused. “Reacting to what?”
You sit up. “I called you bro. Twice.”
He shrugs, expression unreadable. “Am I supposed to be upset?”
“…Yes,” you say flatly.
“Oh.” He thinks for a second. Then, very unconvincingly, he frowns. Pulls his brows together. “I’m upset.”
“That was terrible.” You snort and playfully hit his chest. “Fine. Nonchalant boyfriend.”
You try to pull away from him, dramatic and fake-offended, but he catches you with an arm wrapping around your waist, tugging you right back.
Before you can protest, he’s leaning in, pressing quick kisses to your cheek, your nose, your lips. Over and over. No warning.
“Hey—” you laugh, squirming. “Bro stop!!!”
He pauses just long enough to murmur against your skin, “Don’t call me that.”
Then he kisses you again, slower this time and hey, you're not complaining.
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗Jongseob: You’re sprawled across the floor together, surrounded by half-empty snack bags and locked in a playful back-and-forth that’s gone nowhere.
“That makes zero sense,” you laugh. “Be serious, bro.”
The second the word leaves your mouth, Jongseob stills. Just for a second. Then he laughs too, a little too quickly, and the debate fizzles out not long after. You don’t think much of it.
But over the next two weeks, you start to notice how distant he's being.
He replies slower. Doesn’t sit as close when you hangout. Cancels plans with clearly made up excuses. The comfortability between you dulls into a painful ache and it hurts more than you want to admit.
So you finally corner him one afternoon.
“Did I do something wrong... because you’ve been pulling away.”
He hesitates for a long time, jaw tight, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder. When he finally speaks, his voice is careful.
“I just… I know you don’t feel the same way,” he says. “And I can’t keep pretending I’m okay being just friends.”
Your heart drops. “What makes you think I don’t feel the same way?”
“You called me bro,” he says simply. “That day. I figured… that was your way of friend zoning me.”
You stare at him, then shake your head slowly. “No—oh my god. I’m just really bad at flirting.”
He blinks. “…That was you flirting?”
You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Yes. Bro—” You freeze. “UGH. I did it again.”
He can't help but laugh, soft at first, then brighter, relief spilling out of him as he steps forward and pulls you into a hug. You bury your face in his shoulder, laughing too.
“I like you, Jongseob. A lot.” you mumble.
“I figured,” he says, smiling against your hair. “Please don't call me bro anymore though.”
You don’t argue. You just hold onto him a little tighter.
synopsis: you should be happy you finally managed to secure a job as a full-time producer, but you just can't stop thinking about jiung's pretty, brown eyes.
一 requested by (the one and only) @jiuchip
pairing: idol!jiung x producer!fem!reader, featuring rest of piwon
genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, humor (attempted)
words: 4k
author's note: honestly it turned out much more fluffy than i planned, i guess i just can't resist loser jiung.... i hope i've done your request justice queen 🙏
you’re pretty sure you’ve already managed to jeopardise your job before you even got there.
the sound of hurried footsteps echoes through the empty halls as you run into the fnc entertainment’s building, barely sparing the security at the door a tilt of your head before taking off towards the wing with studio rooms. the coffee you bought on your way here is clutched in your sweaty hand – you’ve never been more grateful for the underpaid and overqualified part-time baristas in that small cafe next to your apartment who somehow always manage to prepare your iced americano in less than a minute.
you signed your contract with fnc a few weeks ago. it’s the first real job in the music industry you’ve ever had, aside from your own stuff and a few gigs here and there. you’re supposed to be meeting their biggest active boy group – “their breakthrough”, as the ceo kindly described them, after you’ve sent them a couple of demos to consider for their upcoming album.
and yet, you’re late.
a drop of sweat runs down your temple when you glance at the lockscreen of your phone – exactly nineteen minutes late.
your fingers drum anxiously against the plastic cup during the unusually long elevator ride to the second floor, the calm music doing little to calm your already shattered nerves. when the door finally opens with a quiet ding after what feels like hours instead of seconds, you make a beeline straight towards room 29B, slamming the door open without even bothering to think of knocking, and throw a murmured apology into the air as you step inside.
six pairs of eyes turn towards you immediately, but you try to ignore the way the hairs at the back of your neck bristle while you drop your belongings onto the desk. you take a long sip of your already watered-down coffee, place the cup down next to your bag, and with a long exhale you finally turn around to face them – almost physically startling at the sight in front of you.
six men stand in a semi-circle across the small studio; each with their hair dyed a different colour, their clothes stylish in a way that’s unusual for a simple meeting and makes you feel terribly underdressed, all of them watching you intently with various levels of surprise and amusement.
and they’re all almost ridiculously attractive, too. so the magazines don’t lie all that much, huh.
“...you alright?” one of them speaks up, clearly trying to conceal the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. his hair is a light shade of blonde, high cheekbones and thin-framed glasses adorning his long face. you recognise him from the bit of research you’ve done on them after joining the company; he was their leader or something, right? what was his name again?
“yeah! yeah, i’m okay, i, uh…” the words come out of your mouth rushed and breathless, the adrenaline still coursing through your system pairing with your bad stamina into a lethal combination. “sorry again for keeping you waiting.”
“don’t worry about it,” says another guy, standing to the right of the previous one. he’s a bit shorter and a bit of a darker blonde than him, his hair almost reaching his shoulders. jongseob, if you remember correctly, rubs his neck sheepishly. “we were a bit late too, actually. we just came a few minutes ago.”
that comment surprisingly manages to ease your nerves a little, tension slowly draining from your shoulders as you all exchange greetings. each of them takes a turn to introduce themselves, returning your polite smiles and bows with their own.
you learn that the first one to speak is in fact the leader – his name’s keeho, and that you were right about jongseob. then there’s soul, the one you recognise from the dance videos you’ve seen on tiktok, theo who looks like he’s been dragged out of bed despite it being past two in the afternoon, intak who, for some reason, has both a baseball cap and a hood on his head indoors… and then there’s jiung.
his rather pale skin glows in the low light, his jaw sharp and angled just right, nose slightly arched, his platinum hair falling slightly into his eyes… and you think your heart does a little somersault when his lips curve into that sweet, gentle smile.
an awkward, heavily uncomfortable huff of air in the likeness of a laugh escapes your lips as you take a big step backwards, your fingers diving deep into the pockets of your jacket as if trying to somehow shield yourself from whatever that feeling you just had was. “so… have you guys listened to the demos?”
#♡
the rest of the meeting goes smoothly. sort of.
the guys liked your demos. after some discussing and figuring out everyone’s expectations for the comeback, two out of the three you have sent were chosen to be included in the album, one of which would be the title track – you patted yourself on the back mentally for that. it turns out that, as talented the group is, they’re also extremely involved in the whole creative process of the preparations, from the main theme of the album through photoshoots to songwriting, which you were pleasantly surprised to learn.
but needless to say, you’d probably enjoy the whole process a lot more if it weren’t for a pair of brown eyes that seemed to be following your every move the entire afternoon.
and if it wasn’t for the fact that no matter how hard you tried not to make contact with them, they seemed to already be pointed your way whenever you glanced over.
and if it wasn’t for the fact that your stupid brain refused to work with the owner of those eyes within your near vicinity, making you trip over your words and causing you to make a fool of yourself in front of everyone in the room.
the lock clicks softly when you shut the studio door closed, leaning your forehead against the cold wood with a sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you finally allow yourself to breathe again.
you’re so losing this job.
#♡
“she seems pretty young, no?” the question leaves keeho’s mouth almost as soon as the six settle into the van that’s supposed to take them back to their dorm. they all knew they would be working with a new producer for this comeback, someone fresh in the company as they heard, but now that they’ve actually met the person that’s been one of the main topics of their conversations for the past few days, keeho’s almost vibrating with the need to gossip.
“she does,” theo hums in acknowledgement from the seat in the back, his gaze glued on the slowly passing buildings as the car starts to move. “she mentioned something about graduating university recently. she must be around our age then.”
jongseob perks up from the front row, his nose already glued to his phone, not sparing the rest a glance as he speaks. “she’s good, though. having two out of three songs accepted on her first try is really impressive.”
a collective of nods and muttered agreements echoes in the car at the youngest’s statement, everyone acknowledging the undeniable talent of the new face.
no one speaks up for the next moment, but the air seems almost thick with something.
“she’s hot,” soul finally dares to say what’s clearly been on each of the men’s minds for the past hours, and the van fills with a chorus of loud groans and laughs; jongseob patting his friend on the back and intak throwing his head back with a relieved ‘thank god somebody said it’.
but among the six horny men, there’s one who’s been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they left the studio, face almost pressed against the glass window as he seemingly tries to evade the conversation – which keeho, ever the keen leader who’s always eerily attuned to his members’ moods, naturally notices.
“ayo, jiung, you good?” the question only makes the said man curl into himself more, but keeho doesn’t let go that easily, and tugs on his shoulder to take a peek at his friend’s face. whatever he sees there turns out to be either extremely shocking or amusing – or both – because he practically jumps in his seat, hands slapping over his mouth as he lets out an incredulous gasp.
“oh my god! no way,” jiung groans internally when all eyes turn to him as a reaction to the older man’s dramatics, and pulls his hood over his head in a futile attempt to escape their irritating, nosy gazes. “he’s blushing!”
the interior of the car turns into something more closely resembling a rugby game than a group of singers on their way home after that, with the guys shoving and slapping each other’s shoulders, each jibe aimed at jiung turning more and more explicit and inappropriate until his face is burning and he starts to wish the ground would just swallow him whole right now to spare him the agony.
jiung races to his room and locks himself inside the moment the group enters the dorm, pressing his back against the door and sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor. no matter how hard he tries, he doesn’t seem to be able to get the image of you out of his head. his cheeks burn at the mere memory of the colour of your eyes, the sweet sound of your voice, and the way you stuttered so endearingly whenever you caught his gaze. or at least he thinks that’s what made you stutter. maybe he just made it all up?
doesn’t matter. it’s not like he’s going to do anything about it anyway.
whatever it is.
#♡
the next time you see p1harmony is for the recording session, five days later. you make sure to come in early this time, sipping on your iced americano as you go through all of the files on your laptop to confirm everything’s ready while waiting for them to arrive.
you didn’t sleep that well tonight. you tossed and turned until late hours, your mind torn between thinking of jiung and his sparkly eyes and charming smile, and worrying about how scandalous the articles would be if anyone ever found out about the liking you’ve taken to him.
but there’s no more time for catastrophising when the six men enter the studio, all of them sending brief greetings and subtle bows your way. you nod towards each of them politely, hyping yourself up internally to act normal when you meet jiung’s gaze this time – but it’s almost as if the world slows down around you when you finally do. everything around you becomes hazy – the rest of the group, the interior of the studio, the soft light of your laptop screen – except for him, and the way he smiles at you so kindly and waves his hand in a way that seems almost shy. god, what have his parents done for the universe to bless their child with this kind of beauty? they must be some kind of doctors, scientists maybe–
you’re startled out of your little moment when someone clears their throat, very loudly and very deliberately. you didn’t even notice when everyone sat down – except for jiung, who looks like he’s come out of a trance too, suddenly breaking eye contact and fiddling with the strap of his bag as he lowers his head to hide the faint blush spreading on his cheeks. yours feel warmer than usual too, and you blink a couple times to bring yourself back to reality.
“okay… yeah, so, uh… who wants to go first?” you ask, pretending not to notice the pointed glances and not-so-sneaky whispers between the other five as you turn your chair back towards the work station.
“i’ll go,” theo offers, already standing up from the couch in the corner of the cramped studio and making his way towards the recording booth. you let out a quiet exhale in relief – you’re pretty sure you’d combust on the spot if it was jiung who went first.
from that moment, thankfully, you’re able to switch to your professional mode; mostly because you have your back turned to you-know-who, allowing you to forget about his existence for at least a while.
on the other side, jiung all but forgets about you. even if he wanted to, intak next to him seems to think it’s the funniest thing in the world to see his older friend all rosy cheeks and sweaty palms, and he alternates between sending him knowing smirks and nudging his shoulder whenever you do something that could be found even remotely attractive. he’s barely able to conceal his laughter with a pretend cough when you strip off your jacket somewhere during keeho’s turn, making jiung suddenly understand the notion of victorian men going crazy over a woman’s ankle when he’s met with the sight of your bare shoulders.
he spends the rest of the members’ turns as quiet as ever. he even ends up taking his own hoodie off because of how much hotter the room suddenly became (ignoring intak’s snicker), wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans every couple of minutes, almost like a nervous tick.
what he doesn’t know is that the worst is yet to come.
because it turns out that his usually work-shy, good-for-nothing members are especially motivated today, and they all squeeze their arrogant asses into the booth before he can even make a move to stand up from his spot on the couch, causing him to end up being the last to record his parts. he can’t even pretend to be surprised when the moment he steps inside, they bolt out the door one by one, muttering the most unconvincing excuses about how they need to feed their cat (which they don’t have) or go to a dance practice (which, again, they don’t have), leaving the two of you alone.
you keep staring at the door for a while in shock, as if expecting them to come back – and gulp audibly when you finally realise it’s not going to happen.
“uh…” you swear you feel a drop of sweat run down your back as you turn back towards the big window separating the booth from the rest of the studio room. the speaker button gives in under your shaky hand when you press it, your gaze landing everywhere but jiung’s face. “...let’s start from the first verse, yeah?”
jiung nods curtly and adjusts his headphones, praying silently that ignoring your presence will be enough to get through the session as quickly and as smoothly as possible.
he fumbles a little at first, the lyrics evaporating from his mind and his voice wavering dangerously close to cracking a few times, but he’s able to recover just in time to record all of his lines within the time limit, and even be semi-satisfied with the result.
jiung meets your gaze for the first time in hours when he steps out of the studio booth after your cue.
“you did a good job,” you say quietly, and he feels his knees almost give out when you give him that smile.
a muttered thanks leaves his lips in response. he doesn’t make a move towards the exit yet, and neither do you – the two of you must have a masochistic side in common, seeing how torturous the silence feels, gazes shying away from each other and hands fidgeting. suddenly jiung’s grateful that everyone left early, because he surely would be teased to death for how much of a coward he’s being. should he just go? he’s probably making you uncomfortable, right? oh god, are you–
“hey, so–”
“so i was–” the two of you speak at the same time.
a beat of silence.
“oh, sorry–”
“i’m sorry, you–”
this time you’re quick to let out laugh awkward enough you know it’s going to haunt you at night, your face burning. “you go first.”
you feel both relieved and sorry when he lets out an even more nervous-sounding, breathy chuckle. “no– i was just–” he huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “i was just wondering if i, uh… if you could, you know… give me your number… maybe? i just– i think i’m gonna have to re-record some of the parts and i–”
the atmosphere after that gets thick enough to cut it with a knife. you don’t even think twice before coughing up an apology, a little too out of your mind at the moment to realize his intentions. “oh– you can just email me! i don’t have a business phone number, so...”
jiung feels his heart drop at that. is that your way of rejecting him? or did it feel like he was rejecting you? maybe he was giving you mixed signals… but he’s asked for your number, how could that be–
“unless… you mean, you know… my number?” his mental spiralling gets cut off when you speak again. his wide eyes land on your face, lingering on the way you’re chewing on your lower lip anxiously – like you’re afraid you said something wrong – but he quickly forces it back up.
he nods, slowly, and swallows heavily. “yeah, that’s– that would be nice, yeah…”
jiung hands you his phone, cursing internally at how his sweaty fingers leave visible marks on the screen. you don’t seem to notice, though – too busy trying not to freak out about the fact that apparently you weren’t the only one feeling that pull – and quickly save your number to his contacts before gathering your belongings haphazardly and hurrying out the door, leaving jiung alone with his racing heart.
#♡
“you’re here,” jiung perks up as soon as your feet cross the threshold of the recording studio.
you smile softly, closing the door behind you and dumping your bag and jacket onto the couch. he looks a little too good for your liking, you think, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed, his hair slightly messy, and his outfit on point, as always. your gaze flicks over him unconsciously, and your eyebrows crease when it lands on the familiar-looking coffee cup right next to him.
“oh, that–” he almost startles when he notices where you’re looking, the effortlessly cool image he was trying to maintain shattering as he fumbles over his words. “you– i noticed you always drinking iced americanos from that cafe down the street, so i just– thought i’d get it… for you.”
your heart skips a beat. you actually forgot to stop by the place in your rush to get to your meeting with jiung on time… god, could he get any better?
“...thanks,” the word comes out quieter and more pathetic than you’d like, but you try to ignore it as you take the cup from his hands, stepping closer to the working space. “so… you said you wanted to re-record some lines?”
jiung nods, pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his pants and opening his notes app. “yeah…” he tilts the screen towards you. “i thought the first chorus and bridge needed some more work.”
both of you get into your positions wordlessly – you at the desk outside the booth and him inside, phone propped on the music stand below the mic to allow him to peek at the lyrics in case he gets nervous again. this time it doesn’t feel as tense as the last time; it’s still awkward, yes, but there’s progress.
you walk him through the lines one by one, offering advice and feedback after each try until you’re both satisfied with the result.
“alright, you can try it one more time to be safe, and i think we’re good,” jiung hums in agreement as you play the music again, bobbing his head to the familiar notes flowing through his headphones. just when he’s about to open his mouth, his gaze lands on a new message notification on the top of his phone screen.
keeho: you hit it yet?
jiung chokes on a half-surprised, half-scandalised gasp when he reads the words, doubling over in a cough attack when his spit ends up going into the wrong pipe. you jump up from your chair immediately, the door bursting open as you rush into the recording booth in worry.
“oh my god, are you okay?” one of your hands pats his back gently, the other one gripping his arm to ground him. your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest as he breathes heavily – partially from the scare and partially from the contact. you can’t help but think that you don’t recall being that close to him before.
he waves his hand dismissively when he finally manages to calm down, the redness slowly fading from his face to give way to its natural shade.
“are you sure?” you press on, tilting your head up slightly to look at him as he straightens back up. to be completely honest, you’re not even convinced if you’re actually still worried, or if you just don’t want to leave now that you’ve seen how long his lashes are and how much prettier his eye colour looks from this close.
when jiung’s breath catches this time, it’s from a completely different reason. he can’t bring himself to look away from the way your lips are slightly parted in concern, and how the dim lights of the studio reflect in your irises, looking almost star-like.
he doesn’t know what possesses him all of a sudden – maybe it’s that text from keeho, but he’d rather die than give him any credit – but he leans in before he can think it through, the warmth of his breath brushing your lips when he halts just close enough for the tip of his nose to touch yours.
“can i kiss you?” he whispers, gaze flicking between your wide eyes and the way your jaw moves when you swallow, then adds more quietly. “...please.”
you can’t move. it’s like you’re frozen in your spot, all of your muscles tensing as sirens go off in your head. this is a very, very bad idea. you work for him, in a way. you need to stop it now, before it goes any further.
your head barely tilts when you nod.
and then his lips brush against yours, and you forget why you even thought you should stop in the first place.
your entire body shivers when his hands cup both of your cheeks before melting into his touch, lips parting in likeness of his when they start to move ever so gently. you pull him closer by tugging on his jacket, swallowing the surprised gasp he lets out into your mouth in response and using the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
”i thought i’d go crazy,” jiung pulls away for just long enough to breathe out, one of his hands moving down from your cheek to slip around your waist as he turns you around, pressing you into the soundproofing foam covering the wall. the world spins around you, everything but the feeling of his lips on yours passing into oblivion.
“me too…” you let out a breathless sigh when his mouth starts to descend your jaw, teeth nipping softly at the delicate skin on the side of your neck as he presses his body closer to yours, the smell of his cologne intoxicating your senses.
it’s only when your eyes flutter open briefly that you see the green light above the door, signalling that you forgot to turn the recording off when you rushed into the booth.
back scratching ・ 피원하모니 gn reader + word count 1.3k genre established relationship, fluff, suggestive? cw not proof-read — more 🥪
an missing piwon :(
KEEHO 윤기호
doesn't happen often, but sometimes he'll come to you with a hand kneading against his shoulder, complaining that his back aches so bad
his set of pajamas sweeps against the floor as he makes his way to you, ("--m'back," he mutters tiredly, brows furrowed, lips in a soft pout, glasses slipping off the tip of his nose). slips off his t-shirt with ease when you make space for him on the bed, settling down on his stomach, cheek pressed against your lap, arms snug around you, or playing with the hem of your clothing
the moment your hand touches him, he completely succumbs to your touch, letting out a low moan from the back of his throat as your hands knead his back muscles carefully. pulls you closer to him as if you aren't close enough, "is this okay?" you'd ask as you reach for his shoulder muscles, and he'd nod and ask you to go lower until you're each a part that aches him and have him breathing through his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut
loves it when you use these moments to use his back as a drawing pad, he names every single one (“--are you writing jongseob? cat? what.”) especially when he makes out the words i love you. but then he goes quiet, reminds himself that his mom used to do this for him when he was younger and thinks of it till tears prick the corner of his eyes and he wipes them off on your clothes. when you push back his hair and ask if he’s okay, he’ll shake his head and press himself further into your stomach, and kiss your knuckles when you turn him over to wipe your tears
THEO 최태양
he's so domestic :( loves when you do it before bed as a way to wind down or to wake him up
theo usually sleeps with his back facing you, one of your arms draped along his abdomen as he snores softly into the pillow, his hair tickling the arm underneath his neck (he hates to admit it but being the little spoon gives him so many butterflies)
when the morning comes around you pull back your limbs and gently graze your fingernails against his skin, tracing every bump and scar and mole
he's still asleep when he grumbles how nice your fingers are, if you try to retract he'll look for your hand, grab it and press it against his lower back (you laugh and he can't help but turn around with hearts in his eyes, places a soft kiss in the furrow of your brow before turning back, “continue please”)
taeyang thinks these are one of the only times he gets to truly have you to himself and he attempts to savour it as best as he can before having to leave for who knows how long
when it's time for bed he prefers to scratch your back, determined to return the favour but the kiss you give him on the tip of his nose makes him retreat a bit. taeyang won't ever admit it but this is his favourite thing to do :(( when you rub the back of his neck gently playing with the tufts of his hair he feels so shy
JIUNG 최지웅
he never really asks for it, but melts every time that you do. jiung comes back from work with sweat sticking to his forehead and bags under his eyes. he doesn’t say much — just that he’s tired and that he’ll take a quick shower before placing a soft kiss against your temple and heading his way
eventually he comes out of the shower with a small towel on his shoulder and glasses on the tip of his nose. he usually prefers to do it for you — scratching your back — but can't help but smile lazily whenever you do it for him
sits hunched in front of the dinner table, poking at and tearing his food apart while you stay beside him, dipping your palm into the collar of his shirt. technically you're not supposed to do this while he's eating, but goodness, who cares, the look he gives with his cheeks full and fighting back a smile tells you everything
on most days, he'll put a hand over his mouth and attempt to tell you about his day, but on others, like today, he'd rather sit in silence with you
jiung finds comfort in the silence with you after a long day, the faint sound of scratching that fills the air makes it all so intimate
INTAK 황인탁
loves them the most out of the six of them, the biggest golden retriever :( pulls his shirt over his head and his hair all wet and messy (after an unreasonably quick shower) and wraps himself against you on the bed, arms in either side if your head, his head on your chest, his entire body weight flat against yours (“—does it hurt?” “no..” “good.”)
chuckles into your chest and leaves a kiss against your jawline and your cheek and your chin and anyway he can reach
intak is too privileged, he's got an amazing partner who gives him back rubs and scratches just for existing
the feeling of your nails softly grazing his skin makes him melt into you, grabs your wrist and tucks your hand under his shirt (when he wears one) or on his bare shoulders. you can practically feel him smiling against you, asking you to look at him and his eyes practically shine underneath the bedside lamp, dimples breaking out when your eyes meet
this is everything he's ever wanted
SOUL ショタ
shota let out a deafening laugh the first time you placed a hand on his bare back. his entire body jolted upward and scared you so bad (he teases you about it whenever he gets the chance). loves getting back scratches; he lets out the softest sighs and groans whenever contact is made
won't ask for it directly but he'll sure as hell let you know (hair pulled in all sorts of directions, Minecraft t shirt on backwards, wearing your shorts…)
shota would find you on the couch flipping through the TV channels lazily and will gladly dump himself onto you with a grunt, you laugh when he squeezes himself into the small space, wiggling and twisting and turning until he makes himself comfortable
peppers the softest set of kisses all over your face before settling his head in the crook of your neck — arms wrapped tight around your waist and legs tangled with each other. that's when you know it's time to get scratching..
can't bite back the biggest content smile that leaves him when you tuck your hand under his shirt, (“you could've just asked…” you mutter softly, and he shakes his head against you) his skin is so soft, and he MELTS
giggles into you when it gets too ticklish, but he enjoys it so much, falls asleep really fast, he's practically drooling on you in the next 10 minutes
JONGSEOB 김종섭
just like intak, jongseob absolutely adores back scratches. he's practically a human cat curling into your side whenever he feels your nails graze the skin on his back. wholeheartedly believes that scratching his back helps him fall asleep better ("--i swear, i've timed it," he'd say, following you around the apartment like a dog with its owner)
never outright asks for it but when it's what he wants when he dims the lights of your shared bedroom, climbing onto bed with nothing but plaid pants and a gorillaz tshirt, and rests his head gently against your shoulder
he feels the back of his shirt hike up slowly and smiles against you, taking note of how warm your hands feel against his bare skin. tangles his legs with yours underneath the covers and hugs your waist so tight, completely refusing to let go. considers this your wind-down time and he tries not to put all his deadweight on you but can't help it
groggily whispers i love you and leaves lazy wet kisses against your shoulder, your collarbone, and does his best to respond to you (low hums and nodding to your words, but his hair brushes against your side and tickles your neck). jongseob lets out a sigh that vibrates through his chest ,and soon enough, he's out like a light
In which the shy boy of campus is actually a god in bed
Wc:~3.3k
Warnings: protected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, handjob, oral m receiving, nipple sucking, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms
University life at Seoul Arts University moved like a current: loud, bright and impossible to ignore if you were anywhere near its center. And you? You were the center. Captain of the dance team, social chair of your department, the girl whose laugh carried across the quad and whose face appeared in half the campus event photos. Your days blurred between morning lectures, afternoon rehearsals where sweat made your skin glow under the studio lights and evenings filled with friends dragging you to cafés or rooftop parties. People knew your name before you knew theirs.
Compliments followed you like shadows: "You’re always so put together", "How do you do everything?" You smiled through it, waving off the praise with practiced grace, but the truth sat heavier than anyone guessed. Behind the curated Instagram stories and effortless charm, you craved something real, someone who saw the version of you that wasn’t performing.
Jiung existed on the opposite end of the spectrum.
He was the kind of student who slipped through campus like a ghost in oversized hoodies and wire-rimmed glasses, earphones permanently nestled in his ears. Music production major, quiet observer, the boy who sat in the back row of every shared lecture and only spoke when directly called upon. His voice was soft, almost hesitant, but when he did contribute, usually about sound design or composition techniques, professors nodded with quiet respect.
Rumors floated around him in fragments: he composed tracks late into the night, had a SoundCloud with a small but loyal following and turned down every invitation to parties with a polite, flustered smile. Most people left him alone. He seemed to prefer it that way.
You’d noticed him before, of course. How could you not? In a crowded Introduction to Multimedia and Music course, his presence stood out precisely because he tried so hard to disappear. The way his fingers tapped rhythms on his notebook when he thought no one was looking. The focused crease between his brows when he listened to sample tracks during lectures. He was cute in an understated way: sharp jawline softened by round cheeks, dark hair that fell into his eyes and a gentle aura that made the chaos of campus feel distant.
The pairing happened on a random Tuesday.
Professor Kim stood at the front of the auditorium, clapping her hands once to get attention. "For your final project, you’ll work in pairs. I’ve already randomized the list, no switching. This is about collaboration across styles." Groans rippled through the room, but you only half-listened, still mentally reviewing your dance choreography for the upcoming festival. Then your name was called alongside his.
You turned in your seat, scanning the back rows until your eyes met his. He was already looking at you, wide-eyed behind his glasses, cheeks tinged pink. He gave a tiny, awkward wave before ducking his head back down to his notes. A few of your friends shot you sympathetic glances "Good luck with the quiet one" but something curious sparked in your chest instead.
After class, you waited for him near the exit. He approached slowly, backpack slung over one shoulder, fiddling with the strap.
"Hi" you said, smiling brightly. "I’m-"
"I know who you are" he interrupted softly, then winced. "Sorry. That sounded weird. I’m Jiung."
The honesty in his tone made you laugh. "Nice to officially meet you, Jiung. Should we exchange numbers? We can figure out a schedule."
He nodded, ears turning red as he pulled out his phone. Your fingers brushed when he handed it over and he startled like he’d touched static. You pretended not to notice, typing your number in with a little heart emoji next to your name, just to be friendly.
The first library session was purely logistical. You met on the third floor in one of the quieter study rooms, the kind with big windows overlooking the courtyard. You arrived with your usual energy, planner open, colorful pens ready. Jiung showed up exactly on time, two coffees in hand: one regular, one with the oat milk caramel you’d mentioned in passing during class.
"You didn’t have to" you said, genuinely touched.
"It’s nothing" he murmured, sliding into the seat across from you. His voice was barely above a whisper, mindful of the surrounding students even in a study room.
You talked project ideas. He listened intently, occasionally pushing his glasses up as he suggested blending your dance performance footage with original ambient tracks he could produce. His ideas were good, thoughtful, layered. When you complimented one, he flushed again and mumbled a thank you, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the table.
That was the first of several library sessions. You kept them brief in your mind as you moved through the following weeks: quick check-ins where concepts took shape, where Jiung’s quiet passion for sound slowly unraveled like thread from a spool. He never dominated the conversation, but his insights lingered long after you left. You found yourself thinking about him between rehearsals, wondering what playlist he was listening to, what made his rare smiles appear.
Campus life continued its whirlwind around you. You performed at a charity showcase, the crowd cheering your name as spotlights followed your every move. Afterward, friends swarmed you with hugs and plans for celebration. But your eyes scanned the audience anyway, half-hoping to spot a familiar hoodie in the back. You didn’t see him. Still, the thought that he might have been there warmed something in you.
Jiung, meanwhile, existed in his own careful rhythm. He watched you sometimes, not in a creepy way, but with the same focused attention he gave to his music. From across the quad, he’d see you surrounded by people, laughing, gesturing animatedly. You looked like sunlight. Untouchable, yet kind. He told himself not to stare, not to read too much into your easy smiles during your project meetings. Girls like you didn’t fall for guys who spent Friday nights layering synths in their tiny dorm room. But he couldn’t help the way his heart stuttered when you leaned closer to look at his laptop screen, your perfume, something light and floral, cutting through the library’s paper-and-coffee smell.
One afternoon, after a productive session where you’d both laughed over a ridiculous sample of cat meows he’d turned into a surprisingly catchy hook, you lingered at the library exit.
"You’re really talented, you know" you told him, sincere. "The way you hear things… it’s special."
Jiung adjusted his backpack, looking anywhere but directly at your face. "I just like making things that feel right. You make everything look easy. Dancing, talking to people… all of it."
The compliment landed softly, unexpectedly. You felt seen in a way that had nothing to do with your popularity. "It’s not always easy" you admitted. "Sometimes it’s exhausting keeping up the energy."
He met your eyes then and for a moment the shy boy vanished. There was understanding there, quiet, steady. "Then it’s okay to rest sometimes. With… project stuff, I mean."
You smiled, the kind that reached your eyes. "Yeah. I like doing project stuff with you."
The days stretched. Project progress became an excuse to spend more time together. You started noticing little things: how he always saved the window seat for you because you liked natural light. The way his voice grew slightly more confident when explaining music theory. How he remembered your favorite study snack after only mentioning it once. In return, you brought him energy drinks when he looked tired from late-night producing, teased him gently about his color-coded notes and defended his ideas fiercely when other classmates dismissed them in group discussions.
Your friends noticed the shift, of course.
"You’re spending a lot of time with hoodie guy" one teased during lunch. "He’s cute, but… quiet."
"He’s not just quiet" you replied, surprising yourself with the defensiveness. "He’s deep. Thoughtful. Different."
They exchanged glances but dropped it. You didn’t mind. The more time you spent around Jiung, the more the noise of your usual world felt distant. With him, conversations flowed easily once you got past his initial reserve. He talked about his love for underground artists, the stories he tried to tell through soundscapes, his dreams of scoring short films someday. You shared pieces of yourself too: how pressure to be "on" all the time left you drained, how dance was your outlet but sometimes felt like another performance.
Falling happened gradually, like a melody building layer by layer.
You caught yourself replaying his soft laugh in your head during rehearsals. Noticed how your steps felt lighter walking to the library knowing he’d be there. Jiung, for his part, started initiating more. He’d send you a short clip of a new beat he’d made inspired by your dance style, captioning it simply: "Thought this might fit." You’d listen on repeat, heart doing strange flips at the care woven into every note.
One evening, after a longer library session that ran past closing, you walked together across campus. Streetlights cast golden halos on the path. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain.
"Thanks for today" you said, bumping his shoulder lightly. "I actually look forward to this project now."
Jiung’s steps faltered for a second before he matched your pace again. "Me too" he whispered. Then, bolder: "I like working with you. A lot."
Your cheeks warmed. You glanced at him sideways, taking in the way the light softened his features, how he bit his lip nervously after speaking. In that moment, the popular girl and the shy boy didn’t feel like opposites. They felt like two people slowly orbiting the same quiet truth.
You wanted to say more. Wanted to reach for his hand or tell him how safe and excited he made you feel. But the words stayed tucked behind your smile. Instead, you walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way, shoulders occasionally brushing, hearts beating in sync with an unspoken rhythm.
The project wrapped up with high praise from Professor Kim. Your combined dance footage and Jiung’s hauntingly beautiful original score earned the highest marks in the class. Celebrations with friends came and went, but your mind kept drifting back to him, the way his eyes had lit up when you hugged him after the presentation, the shy "we did it" he’d murmured against your shoulder.
Two days later, you texted him. My place tonight? Just us. No project pressure. I’ll cook something simple. 🍝
His reply came after a few minutes, as if he’d stared at the screen first. I’d like that. A lot.
You spent the afternoon tidying your small off-campus apartment, heart fluttering more than it had before any performance. When the doorbell rang, you opened it to find Jiung in a soft black sweater and jeans, hair slightly tousled, holding a small bag of your favorite pastries from the café near campus. His cheeks were already faintly pink.
"You look beautiful" he said quietly, stepping inside.
The evening unfolded gently at first. You cooked pasta together, bumping elbows in the tiny kitchen, laughing when sauce splattered his sleeve. Conversation flowed easier now: stories from childhood, favorite songs, dreams that felt too big to share with anyone else. After dinner, you moved to the couch with glasses of wine. A soft playlist hummed in the background, one of his own tracks woven in.
As the night deepened, the space between you shrank. Your knees touched. His hand rested tentatively on your thigh. When you leaned in and kissed him, he responded with that same quiet intensity you’d come to crave. The kiss deepened, slow and exploratory, until you were straddling his lap, fingers threading through his dark hair.
Jiung pulled back slightly, breathing uneven. His glasses had fogged up; he removed them with shaky hands and set them on the coffee table. "I… I’ve never done this before" he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes searched yours, vulnerable and earnest. "Any of it. I don’t want to disappoint you."
Your heart swelled. You cupped his face, thumbs brushing his warm cheeks. "You could never disappoint me, Jiung. We’ll go slow. Just feel with me."
He nodded, swallowing hard and let you lead him to the bedroom.
The lamp cast a warm golden glow across your bed. You kissed him again, standing beside it, hands slipping under his sweater to feel the smooth skin of his torso. He was lean but toned from quiet hours at his desk and occasional late-night walks. Jiung shivered under your touch but mirrored it, hesitantly lifting the hem of your shirt. When you pulled it off, revealing the lace bra beneath, his breath hitched audibly.
"You’re… perfect" he murmured, reverence in every syllable.
Clothes came off piece by piece in a haze of kisses and soft touches. His sweater, your jeans, his shirt, until you were both in underwear. You guided him onto the bed, lying beside him. Jiung’s hands roamed your body with careful wonder: tracing your waist, the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts. Every caress felt worshipful. When he cupped one breast and brushed a thumb over your nipple, you arched into him with a soft moan. He paused, then repeated the motion more deliberately, watching your face like he was memorizing a new melody.
Encouraged, he leaned down and kissed your neck, then lower, lips brushing the sensitive skin of your collarbone. His mouth found your nipple, tentative at first, then surer as your fingers tightened in his hair and you gasped his name. The shy boy was a fast learner. He switched sides, using his tongue and gentle suction until you were squirming, heat pooling between your legs.
"Jiung…" you breathed.
He lifted his head, eyes dark with want. "Tell me what feels good."
You guided his hand lower, past your stomach, until his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. He explored slowly, learning your folds, the slickness there. When he found your clit, circling it experimentally, your hips bucked. He adjusted his touch based on your reactions: lighter, then firmer, finding the perfect rhythm with stunning intuition. Two fingers slid inside you, curling gently and you cried out at how perfectly he hit that spot.
"You’re so wet" he whispered in awe, voice husky. "Is this okay?"
"More than okay" you managed, rocking against his hand. "Don’t stop."
He didn’t. Jiung worked you with patient focus, kissing you deeply while his fingers pumped and his thumb circled your clit. The coil inside you tightened faster than you expected. When you came the first time, it crashed over you in waves, thighs trembling around his hand. He kept touching you through it, gentling his movements until you floated back down, kissing your forehead.
"That was… incredible" you said, still catching your breath. "Your turn."
You peeled his boxers down, freeing his cock. He was hard, flushed and bigger than you’d anticipated: thick and curving slightly upward. Jiung looked embarrassed for a second, but you wrapped your hand around him and stroked slowly, drawing a broken groan from his throat. His hips jerked involuntarily.
You took your time, kissing down his chest, his stomach, until you reached his length. Your tongue traced the vein underneath, then swirled around the head. Jiung’s hand flew to your hair, not pushing, just holding on as if grounding himself.
"Oh god…" he breathed.
You took him into your mouth, sucking gently, hollowing your cheeks. His moans were soft and needy, the most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard. You bobbed your head, taking more of him each time, one hand stroking what you couldn’t fit. Jiung’s thighs tensed, breathing ragged, but he never forced the pace. When you looked up, his eyes were locked on you, filled with adoration and lust.
"I’m close" he warned, voice strained.
You pulled off with a pop, crawling back up to kiss him. "I want you inside me."
Jiung nodded, pupils blown wide. You grabbed a condom from the nightstand, rolling it on him with steady hands. Then you straddled him again, positioning his tip at your entrance. Slowly, you sank down, inch by inch. The stretch was delicious. He filled you perfectly, that slight curve pressing against your front wall.
"Fuck, you feel amazing" you moaned, settling fully.
Jiung’s hands gripped your hips, fingers digging in just enough. "You’re so tight… warm…" He sounded wrecked already.
You started moving, rolling your hips in a slow rhythm. Jiung met you instinctively, thrusting up in perfect sync. His shyness melted away as instinct took over. He sat up slightly, wrapping one arm around your back to pull you closer, mouth latching onto your breast again while the other hand guided your movements. The new angle made you see stars.
Every thrust was deep and deliberate. He watched your face, adjusting speed and depth based on your gasps and whimpers. When you ground down harder, he matched it, snapping his hips up with surprising power. Sweat slicked your skin. The room filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your moans and his quiet, breathy praises "So good… you’re incredible… I can’t believe this is real."
You came again, clenching around him hard. Jiung groaned, holding you through it, but he didn’t stop. He flipped you gently onto your back, hovering above you. The shy boy was gone; in his place was someone utterly attuned to your pleasure.
He pushed back in, setting a steady, deep pace. One of your legs wrapped around his waist, the other hooked over his shoulder, opening you wider. The new position let him hit even deeper. His thrusts grew more confident, rolling his hips in a way that rubbed your clit with every stroke. You clawed at his back, nails leaving light marks as another orgasm built rapidly.
"Jiung...right there...don’t stop..."
He didn’t. He leaned down, kissing you messily, tongue matching the rhythm of his cock. His free hand slipped between you, rubbing your clit in tight circles. The dual sensation pushed you over the edge hard. You cried out, vision whitening, body shaking as the strongest orgasm you’d ever felt ripped through you. It seemed to last forever, wave after wave.
Jiung’s control frayed. His thrusts became erratic, deeper, chasing his own release. "I’m gonna...can I..."
"Come for me" you whispered, clenching around him deliberately.
With a choked moan of your name, he buried himself deep and came, hips stuttering as he pulsed inside the condom. He collapsed half on top of you, face tucked into your neck, breathing hard. You held him close, stroking his damp hair, hearts pounding in unison.
After a long moment, he lifted his head, eyes soft and a little shy again. "Was that… okay? I didn’t hurt you?"
You laughed softly, pulling him in for a slow kiss. "Jiung, that was the best sex I’ve ever had. Hands down. You were incredible. Natural talent, I guess."
His ears turned bright red, but a proud little smile tugged at his lips. "Really?"
"Really." You kissed his nose, then his cheek. "I meant what I said before. You’ve ruined me for anyone else."
He pulled out carefully, disposing of the condom before returning to bed and wrapping you in his arms. You lay tangled together, legs intertwined, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. The afterglow wrapped around you both like a warm blanket.
"I’ve liked you for so long" he admitted quietly, voice vibrating against your skin. "Didn’t think someone like you would ever look at me this way."
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "I see you, Jiung. The real you. And I want all of it."
He kissed you again, slow, sweet, full of promise.
Outside, the city hummed on, but in your apartment, time slowed. You talked in whispers about nothing and everything, shared more kisses and eventually made love once more, slower this time, face to face, savoring every sensation. Jiung’s body learned yours even better the second time, drawing out your pleasure until you were boneless and glowing.
By the time dawn crept through the curtains, you were curled against his chest, his heartbeat a steady lullaby under your ear.
