iza ❤︎ this one is LONG hello can u tell i enjoyed making this. idk i love nct wish. like yes. u r nct. u r wish. and can this not flop pls all the wish lovers show up NOW
TAGLIST nct wish/master @cosmicalily @stvrhven @fdzvie @fizzandsage13 @keysfg @honghwaluvr @siracoreee @dina-10s-blog @nikiasaurus @kookiesnkim @loverkiiller @kiss4baku @teaxtease @sternhwa @nerdyhyunjin @lezleeferguson-120 click here to be added/removed
includes :: [ nine screenshots ] boyfriend!mark x reader ( typically gender neutral ). mark from the dreamies pov ! i love mark lee. nickname: angel. i always feel like i butcher him in fics tbh . . . i always feel like i butcher ALL of them sfhds smh. i like to think i’m funny. i also like to think u and mark have the most meaningless conversations ever <3 all mistakes are unintentional !
authors note, kind of a req lol ! anyway i hope you enjoy lovelies 💛 it’s . . it’s kinda bad though so.
highlight. "please don't go. please. i'm—" he exhales shakily, and when you turn back to look at him, his eyes are wet. jeong jaehyun, who never cries. jeong jaehyun, who smiles through everything. "i'll do anything. i'll be whoever you need me to be. just—don't walk out that door. i can't watch you leave again. i can't."
pairings. nonidol!jaehyun x fem!reader
genre. angst, non idol fic, college au, smut 18+
tags. angst, college au, communications major jaehyun, non-idol au, second chances, situationship, slow burn, yeaner jaehyun, exes to lovers, miscommunication, trust issues, emotional hurt/comfort, smut with feelings, needy jaehyun, desperate jaehyun, jaehyun begs, crying during intimacy, soft dom jaehyun, making up, hopeful ending, realistic fiction
warnings. desperate sex, begging and pleading, repeated apologies during intimacy, deep kissing, sloppy undressing, body worship, breast worship, praising whispers, fingering, oral sex female receiving, cunnilingus, clit sucking, tongue fucking, penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, size difference, height difference, smaller female reader with taller male, missionary, prone bone, eye contact, hair tugging, gentle aftercare, cuddling, holding tight, yearning desperate male character, no condom (lets pretend she's on bc, i forgot condoms again forgive me)
wordcount. 7k
part 1. | masterlist
it's 8:47 in the morning when your phone buzzes.
you're already awake, sitting cross-legged on your bed with a cup of instant coffee going cold on the nightstand. the screen lights up with his name, and you stare at it for a solid five seconds before flipping the phone face-down.
jaehyun.
you don't pick up. you haven't picked up since sunday.
the call ends. a minute later, a text comes through.
jaehyun: you awake? i'm outside
you don't reply. you don't even open it. the read receipt stays off, and you let your thumb hover over the notification before swiping it away.
outside your apartment building, jeong jaehyun is sitting in his black kia k5, engine idling, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his phone. he's wearing that gray hoodie you used to steal from him back when things were different. back when you still believed him.
he waits.
five minutes pass. then ten.
he checks his phone again. nothing.
he runs a hand through his hair—freshly cut, shorter on the sides, the way you once said you liked—and exhales through his nose. then he pulls up your chat history, scrolling up to see the last time you actually responded to him with more than one word.
you: ok
you: sure
you: thanks for the ride
that was friday. three days ago. before everything shifted again.
he types out another message, thumbs moving slowly like he's weighing every word.
jaehyun: did i do something?
he stares at it. backspaces. types again.
jaehyun: you have class at 9 right? i can drive you
send.
he tosses his phone onto the passenger seat and leans his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. the campus isn't far—fifteen minutes with morning traffic—but he's been coming here every tuesday and thursday for the past three weeks, ever since you let him back in. or at least, let him try.
rewind to a month ago.
september. the semester had just started. you were walking out of the communications building, earbuds in, bag slung over one shoulder, when someone fell into step beside you.
"you're walking fast."
you didn't have to look. you knew that voice.
"what do you want, jaehyun."
"to walk with you."
"i didn't ask."
"i know. i'm offering."
you kept walking, faster now, but his legs were longer and he had no trouble keeping up. he didn't say anything else, just walked beside you all the way to the bus stop, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, that stupid dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth like he was holding back a smile.
when the bus came, he didn't get on. he just stood there on the curb, watching you find a seat.
the next day, he was there again.
and the next.
by the end of the week, you finally cracked.
"what is this, jaehyun? what are you doing?"
he tilted his head, feigning innocence. "i'm walking you to the bus stop. is that a crime?"
"yes. it is. you lost the right to walk me anywhere."
the playfulness in his face flickered, something more serious bleeding through. "i know," he said, quieter. "i'm trying to earn it back."
you didn't believe him. you told yourself you wouldn't. you told yourself that jeong jaehyun was all charm and no follow-through, a communications major who knew exactly how to talk to people because that's what he was good at—talking. saying the right things. flashing those dimples and getting away with everything.
but he was persistent.
he started driving you to campus on days your schedules overlapped. he'd show up with coffee—your order memorized, even though you'd only told him once, months ago, before everything fell apart. he'd buy you lunch from that overpriced sandwich place near the library and leave it on your desk during your afternoon lecture without asking for anything in return.
he was doing all the right things.
and you hated that it was working.
mid-september to early october.
it went like this:
tuesday morning, he picks you up at 8:30 sharp. he's never late. the car smells like his cologne and the vanilla air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. he asks about your assignments, your group projects, the professor who always mispronounces your name. he doesn't talk about himself unless you ask, which you rarely do.
thursday afternoon, he's waiting outside the communications building with two cups of iced tea. "you look tired," he says.
"thanks. that's exactly what every girl wants to hear."
"i didn't say you look bad. i said you look tired. there's a difference."
you roll your eyes, but you take the tea.
saturday, he takes you to a hole-in-the-wall ramen place in hongdae. "you're paying," you remind him.
"obviously."
"and this isn't a date."
"obviously," he repeats, but there's a smirk tugging at his lips, and you hate that it makes your stomach flip.
he tells stupid jokes. like, genuinely stupid ones—dad jokes, knock-knock jokes, puns so bad they physically hurt. he does it on purpose, you know. he wants to see you crack. he wants to see that involuntary twitch of your mouth before you catch yourself and bury the smile under a scowl.
"why did the scarecrow win an award?" he asks one evening, driving you home.
"i'm not doing this."
"because he was outstanding in his field."
you groan, loud and exaggerated. "that's not even funny."
"then why are you smiling."
"i'm not."
"you are. your cheek is doing that thing."
"my cheek doesn't do a thing."
"it does. right here—" he reaches over, finger hovering near your face, and you swat his hand away before he can touch you.
he laughs. dimples on full display. and for a moment—just a moment—you forget why you were supposed to hate him.
but the thing about jeong jaehyun is that he's always been too good at this. too smooth. too effortless.
that's the problem.
you've known him for two years now. you met in intro to mass communication, ended up in the same study group, and somehow fell into something that felt like it could be real. he was charming then, too. flirty. always finding excuses to sit next to you, to borrow your notes, to ask for your opinion on his projects.
for a while, you thought it meant something.
when you walked away, he didn't stop you. didn't chase you. didn't text or call or show up at your door. he just let you go, like it didn't matter. like you didn't matter.
so when he showed up in september, all apologies and coffee runs and dad jokes, you didn't trust it. how could you? jeong jaehyun was a communications major in more ways than one—he knew how to say the right things, how to deliver the right lines, how to make you feel like you were the center of his universe even when you weren't.
you kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
and then saturday happened.
saturday, october 11. minji's dorm room, 9:14 pm.
you're sitting on her floor, back against the bed frame, scrolling through your phone while she rummages through her closet for something to wear to her birthday party next weekend.
"so minseo isn't coming," minji says, tossing a black top onto the bed.
"wait, why?"
"because jaehyun's coming."
your thumb freezes mid-scroll. "what?"
"yeah, i invited him. you guys are talking again, right? i figured it'd be fine."
"no, i mean—why isn't minseo coming just because jaehyun's there?"
minji pauses, turning to look at you. there's a flicker of something on her face—realization, maybe, or regret for bringing it up at all. "oh. you didn't know?"
"didn't know what."
she hesitates. "they had a thing. like, months ago. minseo said it was serious. or at least, she thought it was."
the room feels smaller.
"when," you hear yourself say.
"i don't know exactly. around june? july? she didn't really talk about it until recently. i think she's still kind of hung up on him."
june or july. months ago.
the same months when jaehyun was supposedly realizing he made a mistake with you. the same months when he was allegedly thinking about you, missing you, regretting the way things ended. the same months he later described as "hell" when he was trying to win you back.
apparently, hell looked a lot like getting serious with minseo.
"hey," minji says, reading your face. "i'm sure it's not—i mean, you know jaehyun. he's..."
"yeah," you cut her off, voice flat. "i know jaehyun."
you leave her dorm twenty minutes later. you don't cry. you don't even feel sad, exactly. it's more like a dull, familiar ache—the same one you felt last spring when you realized he wasn't going to come after you. the same one that told you, over and over, that you were never as special to him as he was to you.
of course.
he's jaehyun.
a face like that, a smile like that, a way with words like that. why would he ever settle for one person when he could have whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and call it "just having fun" when things got too real?
you were an idiot for thinking anything had changed.
sunday, october 12. you start ghosting him.
it's subtle at first. you don't answer his good morning text. when he calls, you let it ring. when he sends a follow-up message—you okay?—you leave it on read.
monday passes the same way. he texts three times. calls twice. you ignore them all.
by tuesday morning, he's standing outside your building like clockwork, and you're still in bed, coffee gone cold, phone buzzing against the mattress. the vibration stops, starts again. he's calling.
you don't pick up.
outside, jaehyun checks the time. 8:52. your class is in eight minutes. if you don't leave now, you'll be late.
he calls again. straight to voicemail this time—not because your phone is off, but because you rejected the call.
that's when it hits him. this isn't a busy morning or a dead battery. this is deliberate.
he stares at his phone screen for a long moment. then he opens his chat with minji.
jaehyun: hey, random question. did something happen over the weekend?
three dots appear. disappear. appear again.
minji: uh
minji: i might have mentioned the minseo thing
minji: sorry, i thought she already knew
jaehyun closes his eyes.
minseo.
he presses his forehead against the steering wheel for a solid ten seconds, then straightens up and puts the car in drive. he doesn't speed off dramatically—he's not that kind of person. he just drives, merging into morning traffic, heading toward campus because he doesn't know where else to go.
he's not angry. he's not even defensive. he just feels... stupid.
because here's the thing: minseo was june. early june, right after finals, when he was trying to convince himself that he was fine. that he didn't mess up with you. that there were other girls, better girls, girls who didn't look at him like they expected him to fail.
minseo was nice. minseo was fun. and for about three weeks, jaehyun let himself pretend it could be something more. but it wasn't. it didn't matter how pretty she was or how much she liked him—she wasn't you. every conversation, every date, every kiss, he was thinking about someone else.
he ended it in july. told her he wasn't ready for anything serious. she cried, which made him feel like absolute garbage, and he spent the rest of the summer alone, replaying every mistake he'd ever made with you.
that was the summer that changed him. or at least, he thought it did.
he thought he could come back in september and prove it.
but old reputations die hard, and jeong jaehyun knows exactly what he looks like. the guy who never takes anything seriously. the guy who bounces from girl to girl. the communications major with the dimples and the charm who could sweet-talk his way out of anything.
he knows that's what you see when you look at him.
and right now, sitting in his car in the hanyang university parking lot, he's realizing that he might never be able to change that.
wednesday. thursday. friday.
you keep ghosting. he keeps trying—but quieter now, less persistent. a single text in the morning. a single text at night. no calls. no showing up at your building.
jaehyun: i know you're ignoring me. i'm not going to force you to talk
jaehyun: but when you're ready, i'll explain. about minseo. about everything
jaehyun: i'm not asking you to believe me. just to listen
you read them all. you don't reply.
it's easier this way, you tell yourself. easier to cut him off now than to let him in again and get burned. he's jaehyun. this is what he does. he's probably already moved on to someone else.
(he hasn't.)
(he's been going to class, coming home, and sitting in his studio apartment with the lights off, staring at the ceiling and wondering how he let this happen again.)
saturday, october 18. minji's birthday party.
you almost don't go. but minji is your friend, and you're not going to let jeong jaehyun ruin that. so you put on a decent outfit, fix your hair, and show up at the rooftop bar minji rented out, determined to have a good time.
jaehyun is already there.
you see him the moment you walk in—standing near the railing, talking to someone from your communications seminar. he's wearing a black button-down, sleeves rolled up, hair pushed back. he looks good. annoyingly good. but there's something off about him. his smile doesn't reach his eyes. his dimples are nowhere to be seen.
you look away before he can catch you staring.
you spend the first hour avoiding him. it's not hard—the party is crowded, and you're good at making yourself small. you stick to the edges, nursing a drink, laughing at the right moments, pretending you're fine.
then you step outside to get some air, and he's there.
the rooftop has a smaller balcony section, semi-private, and he's leaning against the railing with his back to the door. his phone is in his hand, but he's not looking at it. he's just standing there, shoulders slightly hunched, like he's carrying something heavy.
you should turn around. you should go back inside.
instead, you clear your throat.
he turns. when he sees you, his whole body tenses—shoulders drawing back, hand tightening around his phone. for a second, neither of you speaks.
"hey," he finally says. his voice is rough, like he hasn't used it in a while.
"hey."
a pause.
"you've been avoiding me," he says. it's not an accusation. just a fact.
"yeah."
"can i ask why? or do you want me to figure it out myself."
you cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. the october air is cold against your skin. "i heard about minseo."
he doesn't flinch. doesn't look surprised. "i figured."
"so?"
"so nothing." he turns to face you fully, and you're struck by how tired he looks. dark circles under his eyes, jaw tight, none of that easy confidence he usually carries. "minseo was a mistake. i was—i don't know. i was trying to get over you. it didn't work."
"wow. that's very romantic. i'm sure she loved hearing that."
"she didn't," he admits. "i ended it badly. i'm not proud of it."
you don't say anything.
"i know how it looks," he continues, voice quieter now. "i know what you think of me. the guy who's always 'just having fun.' the guy who doesn't take anything seriously. and maybe i deserved that reputation. maybe i earned it. but i'm not—" he stops, exhales. "i'm not that guy anymore. or i'm trying not to be. i wouldn't have spent the last month driving you to class and buying you lunch and telling you stupid jokes just for fun. that's not what this was."
"then what was it."
"it was me trying to show you that i changed. because i knew telling you wasn't enough."
you look at him. really look at him. the tension in his shoulders. the uncharacteristic lack of dimples. the way his hand is shaking slightly against the railing.
you want to believe him.
but you've wanted to believe him before.
"jaehyun," you say, and your voice comes out steadier than you feel. "you let me walk away last time. you didn't fight. you didn't chase. you didn't even text. and then you spent the summer with someone else, and you expect me to believe that i'm different?"
he flinches. actually flinches, like the words hit him physically.
"i know," he says. "i know i messed up. i know i keep messing up. but i'm still here. i came back. and i know that doesn't fix anything, but—"
"but what."
"but what do you want me to do." his voice cracks on the last word. "tell me what to do and i'll do it. i'll stop trying if that's what you want. i'll leave you alone. but you have to tell me, because i'm not going to walk away this time unless you ask me to. not again."
the city hums below you. somewhere inside, minji's party continues—music, laughter, the clinking of glasses. out here, it's just the two of you and the cold october wind and the weight of everything unsaid.
you don't answer right away.
and for the first time in two years, jeong jaehyun doesn't try to fill the silence.
he just waits.
it's been two weeks since minji's party.
two weeks of him trying. not in the loud, performative way he used to—showing up unannounced, buying your coffee, filling silences with jokes. quieter this time. more careful.
he took his time, sucking gently, then softer, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt under his tongue. his free hand rested on your ribs, fingers spread wide, the size difference clear in how easily his palm covered so much of you. he switched sides, mouth warm and unhurried, little hums vibrating against your skin when your back arched slightly. “you always feel so good like this,” he murmured, lips brushing the underside of your breast before he kissed lower, open-mouthed and slow.
he texts once a day. not good morning or good night, nothing that expects a response. just small things. a song he thought you'd like. a photo of the campus cat that always sits outside the communications building. once, a voice memo of him attempting to play a song on his guitar, which he's terrible at, and he ends it with a self-deprecating laugh that you replay three times before you catch yourself.
you don't reply. but you don't block him either. you're not sure what that says about you.
on tuesday, you see him in the library. he's at a table near the window, head bent over a textbook, earbuds in. he doesn't notice you. you stand there for maybe fifteen seconds, watching the way his brow furrows when he's concentrating, the way he taps his pen against his lip. then you leave before he can look up.
on thursday, you run into him outside the communications building. literally run into him—you're rushing to your afternoon lecture, not looking where you're going, and suddenly there's a solid chest and familiar hands steadying your shoulders.
"sorry—" you start, then stop. it's him.
"hey." his voice is soft. his hands drop from your shoulders immediately, like he's afraid of holding on too long. "you okay?"
"yeah. fine. late for class."
"right. yeah. go." he steps aside, clearing the path. "i'll—see you around."
he doesn't say anything else. doesn't push. and somehow that's worse than if he had.
friday night, it rains.
you're at a house party in hongdae, a friend of a friend's place, and the whole night you've been restless. the music is too loud. the crowd is too thick. you keep checking your phone even though no one's texting you.
then minji grabs your arm, tipsy and grinning. "jaehyun's here."
your stomach drops. "what?"
"yeah, minho invited him. he's in the kitchen."
you don't go to the kitchen. you stay in the living room, wedged between the couch and a bookshelf, pretending to be interested in a conversation about someone's internship. but then the crowd shifts and there he is, leaning against the kitchen counter, a red cup in his hand, listening to minho talk about something with a polite half-smile on his face.
he looks tired. he always looks tired these days.
his eyes find yours across the room. he doesn't wave. doesn't smile. just holds your gaze for a moment—long enough to make your chest tight—and then looks away.
at 1 AM, people start leaving. you're outside waiting for a taxi, rain coming down in sheets, your thin jacket doing nothing to keep you warm. your phone is at 4%. the taxi app says 25 minute wait.
a car pulls up to the curb. black kia k5.
the window rolls down. "get in."
you hesitate. everything in you says no. everything in you says yes.
"i'm not going to try anything," he says, and his voice is so tired, so genuinely drained, that you believe him. "you're going to freeze out here. just let me drive you home."
you get in.
the drive is silent.
rain hammers the windshield. the wipers squeak rhythmically. jaehyun doesn't turn on music. doesn't try to fill the silence with dumb jokes or easy conversation. his hands are at ten and two, eyes on the road, jaw tight.
when he pulls up to your building, he doesn't turn off the engine. just sits there, waiting.
"thanks for the ride," you mumble, hand on the door handle.
"wait." his voice comes out strained. he clears his throat. "can we talk? not here. not in the car. somewhere. my place is close. five minutes. that's all i'm asking. five minutes, and if you still want to leave after that, i'll drive you back myself and you never have to see me again."
you should say no. you know you should say no.
"fine," you hear yourself say. "five minutes."
his apartment is small.
studio, really. a bed pushed against the far wall, a desk cluttered with textbooks, a guitar case gathering dust in the corner. fairy lights strung above the window—you remember helping him put those up. last year. back when things were simpler.
you stand near the door with your arms crossed. he stands near the kitchen counter. three feet of space between you. it feels like a mile.
"okay," you say. "talk."
he takes a breath. then another.
"i don't know how to do this," he admits. "i've been trying for weeks and i keep getting it wrong and i don't know—i don't know how to prove that i'm serious. that this is serious. that you're not just some—some game to me."
"maybe because you've treated everyone like a game for two years, jaehyun." your voice is sharper than you intended. "maybe because every time i let myself believe you, i find out about another girl. eunji. soyeon. minseo. how many more are there that i don't know about."
"there's no one else." he steps forward. you step back. he stops. "there hasn't been anyone since july. i ended things with minseo because she wasn't you. because no one is you. and i know that sounds like a line, i know that's exactly the kind of thing i would say to get out of trouble, but i swear—"
"swearing doesn't mean anything to you."
"what do you want me to do." his voice rises, cracking at the edges. "do you want me to get on my knees. do you want me to call minseo right now and let you listen. do you want me to—" he breaks off, running both hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. "i don't know what you want from me. you won't tell me. you won't let me in. you just keep shutting me out and i'm trying—i'm trying so hard and it's never enough."
"because you let me walk away." your voice shakes. your eyes sting. you refuse to cry. "last spring. when i found out about eunji. i wanted you to stop me. i wanted you to fight. and you just—stood there. you let me go like it was nothing."
"it wasn't nothing."
"it looked like nothing."
"i know." his voice drops. "i know what i did. i think about it every day. i think about your face when you walked out. i think about how i didn't chase you. i think about what a coward i was. and then i spent the whole summer trying to convince myself i was fine and i wasn't. i wasn't fine. i'm not fine now. i haven't been fine since you left."
he's close now. you don't remember him moving, but he's close. you can see the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, the red rims around his eyes, the way his chest is rising and falling too fast.
"you're so good at this," you whisper.
"good at what."
"talking. saying the right things. making me feel like i'm the only person in the world. it's what you do, jaehyun. it's what you've always done."
"it's not an act." his voice breaks. "it was never an act with you. i know i messed up. i know i gave you every reason not to trust me. but i'm not—" he stops to take a shuddering breath, "i'm not performing. i'm not trying to win. i just—i just want you. that's it. that's all it's ever been."
you shake your head. "i can't do this again."
"do what."
"this." you gesture between you. "the hoping. the waiting. the finding out i was wrong about you. i can't."
"then don't hope." he steps closer. you don't step back. "don't trust me. don't believe a single thing i say. but stay. just—stay. give me a chance to show you. not tell you. show you."
your throat is tight. "jaehyun—"
"i know i'm selfish." his voice is barely above a whisper now. "i know i'm asking for something i don't deserve. but i'm asking anyway. please."
the word hangs in the air. please. jeong jaehyun doesn't say please. jeong jaehyun doesn't beg. he's too proud, too confident, too used to getting what he wants without having to ask.
but he's asking now.
something in you cracks.
"i should go." your voice barely audible. "this was a mistake."
you turn toward the door.
he moves faster than you've ever seen him move.
his hand catches your wrist—not hard, not grabbing—just stops you. gentle. desperate.
"don't." the word comes out strangled. "please don't go. please. i'm—" he exhales shakily, and when you turn back to look at him, his eyes are wet. jeong jaehyun, who never cries. jeong jaehyun, who smiles through everything. "i'll do anything. i'll be whoever you need me to be. just—don't walk out that door. i can't watch you leave again. i can't."
"jaehyun."
"i know." he steps closer, still holding your wrist, thumb pressed against your pulse. "i know i'm too late. i know i should've done this a year ago. i know you don't owe me anything. but i'm begging you. i'm actually begging you."
his other hand comes up, hesitant, hovering near your face like he's afraid to touch you without permission. his fingers are shaking.
"you're the only thing i've ever been sure about," he whispers. "and i ruined it. i know i ruined it. but if there's even a tiny part of you that still—"
he doesn't finish.
he kisses you instead.
it's not smooth. it's not confident. it's desperate and messy and his lips are trembling against yours, one hand still around your wrist, the other finally cradling your jaw like you're something precious. he kisses you like he's drowning and you're air. like he's been waiting months for this and he can't believe it's happening.
"please," he breathes against your mouth. "please, please, please—"
the word becomes a chant, a prayer, broken and breathless between kisses. his forehead presses against yours. his eyes are squeezed shut. a tear slips down his cheek and lands on your collarbone.
"tell me to stop," he says. "tell me you don't want this and i'll stop. i'll stop. i swear i'll stop."
your hands are in his shirt. you don't remember putting them there. his heart is pounding so hard you can feel it through the fabric.
you don't tell him to stop.
the sheets were already warm under your back when jaehyun kissed you again, his hand steady on the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw. his mouth moved slow and deep, the kind of kiss that tasted like the mint from earlier and the faint salt of his skin. he kept murmuring sorry against your lips, the word slipping out between breaths like he couldn’t stop it. “sorry… i just—don’t go yet.” his voice was low, rough at the edges, nothing dramatic, just real and tired.
he tried to pull your shirt up but his fingers caught in the fabric, clumsy from how tightly he was holding on. you lifted your arms and did it yourself, tossing it aside onto the floor where his clothes already lay scattered. the cool air of the room hit your skin for a second before his mouth was on you, warm and immediate. “fuck… so pretty,” he breathed, the words barely above a whisper as he leaned down. his lips closed around one nipple, soft and wet, tongue circling slowly while his hand cupped the other, thumb brushing over it in lazy strokes.
he took his time, sucking gently, then softer, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt under his tongue. his free hand rested on your ribs, fingers spread wide, the size difference clear in how easily his palm covered so much of you. he switched sides, mouth warm and unhurried, little hums vibrating against your skin when your back arched slightly. “you always feel so good like this,” he murmured, lips brushing the underside of your breast before he kissed lower, open-mouthed and slow.
your pants came next. his hand fumbled at the waistband, pushing them down your hips but struggling with the angle on the bed. you raised your hips and helped slide them off along with your underwear, kicking them to the foot of the bed. jaehyun sat back just enough to yank his hoodie over his head in one motion, revealing the lean lines of his chest and stomach, skin already starting to flush. he was taller, broader in the shoulders, and when he leaned back over you the mattress dipped under his weight, making your smaller frame feel even smaller beneath him.
his fingers found you first, two of them sliding through your folds before pressing in carefully. “is this okay?” he asked, voice husky, eyes flicking up to yours. you nodded and told him to shut up, the words coming out breathy. he gave a small nod, lips pressing together, and focused. his fingers curled inside, slow and steady, thumb brushing your clit in gentle circles. the wet sounds were quiet, mixing with his heavy breathing and the low creak of the bed whenever he shifted. he watched your face the whole time, dark eyes steady, breathing through his mouth as he worked you open.
after a minute he slid lower, shoulders settling between your thighs. his mouth replaced his fingers, tongue flat and warm as he licked a slow stripe up your center. he groaned softly at the taste, the vibration traveling through you. he ate you out without rushing, lips closing around your clit and sucking gently, then releasing to lick again, over and over. his hands held your thighs apart, fingers pressing into the soft skin, keeping you spread for him. because of his height, his long arms reached easily, one hand sliding up to rest on your stomach, feeling the way your breathing changed.
you threaded your fingers through his hair, the strands soft and slightly damp with sweat already. he made a low sound when you tugged lightly, tongue pressing firmer, circling then flicking. the room filled with the quiet, wet noises of his mouth on you and the occasional hitch in your breath. he stayed focused, switching between slow licks and gentle suction, building it steadily until your hips started shifting against his face. he didn’t speed up, just kept the same deliberate pace, like he wanted to draw it out as long as possible.
when he finally pulled back, his lips were slick, chin glistening. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and moved up your body, kissing your stomach, then between your breasts, then your mouth again. his cock was hard and heavy against your thigh, the tip already wet. he reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, rubbing the head through your folds a couple times before pressing in.
he went slow, eyes locked on your face the entire time. “fuck,” he breathed as the head slipped inside, the stretch real and full. inch by inch he sank deeper, hips pressing forward until he bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours. a heavy breath left him, chest rising and falling visibly. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, forehead dropping to rest against yours. his hand stayed on the side of your face, thumb stroking your cheek.
you breathing harder, bodies moving together in the quiet of his apartment. he reached between you, fingers circling your clit again, the added stimulation pushing you closer. his thrusts faltered a little when he got near the edge, hips snapping forward with more urgency. “cum with me,” he said against your ear, voice strained. “please.” you clenched around him and he followed right after, burying himself deep with a low, heavy groan. his hips stuttered, pulsing inside you as he came, warmth spreading. he kept moving through it, shallow thrusts to draw it out for both of you, until the tension finally eased. his arms shook slightly as he held himself up, breathing hard against your neck.
he didn’t pull out immediately. instead he stayed buried inside, forehead pressed to yours, both of you catching your breath. his hand stroked your side slowly, gentle now that the intensity had peaked. after a minute he carefully slid out, a soft wince from both of you at the loss. he reached for the towel he’d left on the nightstand earlier, cleaning you first with careful wipes, then himself. nothing was said, just the quiet sounds of fabric and breathing. when he was done he pulled you against his chest, your smaller frame fitting easily into the curve of his taller body. his arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting on your stomach, fingers tracing idle patterns. the sheets were tangled around your legs, damp with sweat. he pressed a lazy kiss to the top of your head, then another to your shoulder, his breathing slowly returning to normal. the fan kept spinning, the streetlight outside casting soft shadows across the room.
his fingers kept moving on your skin, slow and soothing, like he was still trying to keep you close even after everything. the apartment was quiet again, just the two of you tangled together on his bed, bodies warm and spent. he didn’t say anything more about leaving.
for now it was just this—skin against skin, his heartbeat steady under your cheek, the real, messy aftermath of two people who weren’t ready to let go yet. he shifted once, pulling the blanket up over both of you, then settled back, holding you tighter. his leg draped over yours, the height difference making it easy for him to surround you. sleep started to pull at the edges, but he stayed awake a little longer, fingers still tracing your skin, breathing slow and even against your hair. the night stretched on like that, quiet and intimate in his small bedroom, the outside world far away for the moment.
afterward.
the room is quiet except for breathing. the rain has stopped outside. his fairy lights cast soft yellow shadows on the ceiling.
you're on your side. he's behind you, arm draped over your waist, face buried in the back of your neck. he hasn't let go for twenty minutes. his fingers trace absent patterns on your stomach.
"are you awake," he whispers.
"yeah."
"okay." a pause. "i just wanted to check."
silence.
"i meant everything," he says. "before. during. all of it. i meant it."
you don't answer.
"you don't have to say it back," he adds quickly. "you don't have to say anything. i just wanted you to know."
his arm tightens around you. his lips press to the nape of your neck. soft. almost hesitant.
"i'm not going anywhere," he murmurs. "not this time. even if you push me away. even if you tell me to leave. i'm staying. i'm going to keep staying until you believe me."
you turn in his arms. face him. he looks young like this—eyelashes still damp, lips slightly swollen, hair a mess from your fingers. vulnerable in a way he never lets anyone see.
you reach up. trace the line of his jaw with your thumb.
"okay," you say.
his eyes widen. "okay?"
"okay. i'll—try. i'm not promising anything. but i'll try."
the smile that breaks across his face is small. tentative. nothing like his usual grin. but it's real. you can see it in his eyes—the dimple appearing, just barely.
"that's enough," he says. "that's more than enough."
he pulls you closer, tucking your head under his chin. you feel his heartbeat against your cheek. steady. steady.
outside, the city hums. inside, jeong jaehyun holds you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
“damn…” voice dripping with perverted amusement as they watched you with a hungry gaze, wanting to get a piece of you like a gold metal — rare and untouchable.
eyes diverting to you, scanning every piece of your curves as your muscles were commanding to your every move, your body moving to the rhythm — slow, teasing. the subtle light contrasted through the stage as it shines across your body. you look ethereal under the faint glow as your rhythmic movements made it impossible for many to not look your way as people who were sitting on booths from across the room or closer to you tried to get a peek at you while women were grinding against their laps – swiftly and hypnotizing, yet their attention was all on you.
you glowed under the faint shimmer as you danced like a swan — each movement fluid, each flow calculated with elegance as the spotlight choreographed to your rhythm. bills poured from the sky like confetti, men dressed in sophisticated clothing located at the bar examining you from afar, asking the bartenders who you were but they were too busy to give them the slightest bit of information.
the music began to fade in your ears, sending you into a deep void of your own thoughts.
many nights, repetitive nights. every day became exhausting as you got used to the smell of booze, weed, and of course sex.
every man that walked in was either drunk off of drugs or alcohol. always stumbling on their words, couldn’t keep their composure up, bathed in the stench of weed or couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. they always tried to make conversation but you weren’t interested. you’re just here for the money.
the club was pretty packed on most days. being located downtown was one of the perks of why business was booming. everyday was always an experience. missing shoes, socks, jewelry, even panties were scattered along the floor, left to rot like it was its purpose. many women dressed up in short skirts — short enough that it could pass up as a belt, paired with thin layers of fabric that clinged onto the curves of their body that barely covered half of what was meant to be hidden. but you can’t lie, they always looked really good.
as for the men, they were nothing special. all of them always had the same intention every time they came to the club — sex.
their gazes linger for mere seconds at women who were on the dance floor, stealing glances as their bodies would sway to the rhythm of the music while their clothes would betray them as the fabric slowly rode up revealing the curvature of their frames.
as a result, boners were present through their pants like a horny teenager seeing a sexy model dressed up in skimpy clothes through a playboy magazine. they didn’t care if the majority of these women had boyfriends; their minds were drunk off of getting pleasured. many of them trace their eyes in places they shouldn’t be looking while the sounds of catcalling can be heard from a distance as they admire the view in front of them.
and it wouldn’t be a club if you didn’t see make out sessions near the bathroom stalls. the sounds of moaning reverberated through the dim walls while the music was pounding in every part of the club.
to you, this was nothing special. everyday became pretty boring.
until today.
“that was quite the performance I must say.” a voice ringing through your ears. a voice that you recognize. your coworker, mia. the one who smiled everytime she came to work, the one who always supported you on the sidelines, the way her eyes sparkled every time she saw you, the one who you can call your friend.
“well I’m glad it's over with. i’m ready to go home.” you say with an exasperated tone as she offered you a robe. you gently grab it from her grasp as the cold air prickled onto your skin, making you shudder as you accepted her offer.
“aww c'mon, don’t you wanna stay and hang ouutttt..?” she delivers with a whiny tone, her face plastered with a pouty expression as she watches you wrap the robe around your body with ease.
“no, and my shift is almost over. why don’t we hang out another time.” you try to let her down easy as you both walk down the hallway, trying to get to your dressing room.
“ugh fineeee — you promise?” she rolls her eyes as she awaits for an answer, stopping halfway through the hallway.
“promise.” you turned to her and smiled as you agreed. you saw her off as her shift ended way later than yours.
the clacks of your heels bouncing off the walls like thunder on an eerie night. the hallway was dark, stretched like an endless loop — narrow, silent and disguised in the shadows. the only source of light came from the dying lightbulb that was at the far end. though your dressing room wasn’t far from the stage, it felt like it was a mile away from where you were.
the door opens with ease as you gently turn the knob to enter the room.
the loud treble of the music becomes muffled as the door closes shut behind you, only the bass vibrating against the surface.
you grab your backup clothes — shorts and cute black tube top that was draped over the back of your chair. before you start changing into more comfortable attire, you hear a faint knock from the door behind you.
“hey it’s me.” the voice coming from the other side of the door — muted and muffled.
it was your boss. oh god now what? you were already dreading whatever news he was about to give you.
“hm?” you hummed as you opened the door leaving a slight crack between both of you.
“i’ve got a favour to ask of you.” a pleading suggestion visible in his tone. “i know your shift just ended but, i got a request from someone that was called last minute”. he says as he pushes the door gently as he welcomes himself in without hesitation.
“ughh — seriously, you know that my shift just ended.” you said with an aggravated tone. “why can’t you send the other girls to do this?” you shift with your back rested against the door as it clicks shut behind you, barely audible from the muffled music playing in the background. arms crossed, covering the crack of your breasts.
“this person specifically requested you.” his voice, stern and composed. “look –- i know you’re drained out from the performance, but i’ll pay you extra if you agree to do this.”
you give it some thought before you utter a sound. the room filled with silence — thick and unnatural. you wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, but extra cash wouldn’t hurt.
“alright fine. but you owe me for this.” you scoff under your breath. you abandon your stance as you start making your way to your chair as your clothes were left draped over it.
“glad you agree. once you’re done here, go find mia, she’ll fill you in.” he strides over to the door, leaving you with privacy.
you look in the mirror, the tiredness seeping out from your face as you feel pressure from your eyelids trying to fight the grogginess.
“alright, let’s get this over with.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
the scent of booze vivid in the air. it was intoxicating. the midnight sky filtered through the windows, painting the club with a cool tone that stretched throughout the club. the breeze felt hot — suffocating, an eerie stillness that was unreadable, unspoken of.
jaehyun sits at one of the booths, his gaze lingering across the room. spotting puffs of smoke in the air — a foggy mist, surrounding the club with a blurry atmosphere. the club was pretty chill, the steady sounds of chatter and clinking glasses booming through the room. the overhead lights reflecting a starry night radiance over the crowd of people.
glances from women who looked at his direction as he sat at one of the booths, minding his own business. they bit their lips, twirled their hair as it tangled around their fingers, their gazes observing him from top to bottom — with looks that spoke unheavenly scenarios surfacing in their minds.
mumbles of faint whispers heard throughout the room. exotic dancers, whispering about how attractive he was. the club was slightly dimmed, shadows of silhouettes grew larger with each step, the sound of heels clacking — deep and rich, deliberately echoing across the polished floor as it drew closer to him. pretending to drop something on the floor, erotically bending over, in hopes that his eyes would glance at them to be acknowledged or noticed.
he gives them a heart warming smile. dimples that accentuates deep into his skin, eyes crinkled with warmth and joy — pure innocence behind that smile.
it was no use.
he wasn’t interested at all.
now playing: ♫
the lights dim, contrasted with a subtle red tint. all dancers on poles exit from their own stages. the music gradually fades, softly turning up as the next song begins to play. all gazes shifted to the center stage — including his own.
there you were.
your presence captured many, mesmerized by the view in front of them like an angel sent from the heavens. clothed in pendants, clinging as your body moves fluidly like water, rippling as the pendants match to your hypnotic rhythm. your body covered in glitter, gleaming under the moonlit glow, radiating from the lighting as they paint you with a soft moonshine imprinted on your porcelain skin, making you the spotlight.
your hips swayed with the flow of the music. the bass, low and seductive, emerging through the room like smoke. your figure moved with it — slow, calculated and with purpose. fingertips tracing the sides of your body, highlighting the curves little by little. hips rolling slow and flirtatious as the song was playing.
you smiled as people were watching you with precision, observing you as you danced. you put on a smile, trying to seduce the crowd with your charm. until your eyes landed on one.
your eyes immediately latched onto his. your irises burning into his as you continue with your performance. he was cute. his gaze on you felt electric, with a hint of mischief. you feel your heart swell on your chest, pounding at an unsteady pace with overwhelmness – you were losing focus. you lift your gaze off of him, letting the intensity of the moment linger. and you continue on.
jaehyun’s gaze examined every inch of you. craved with desire. he took his time, taking in the view in front of him. the way your outfit hugged you in all the right places: your hips, waist, and chest. did you have a boyfriend? who is the lucky guy that gets to have you in his life everyday? does he know that he is dating a literal fucking angel? fuck.
a waiter appears into his vision, serving drinks as the performance continues. “would you care for one?” he says as he extends the tray to him.
jaehyun nods as he takes the drink from the tray.
before the waiter leaves to serve drinks to other customers. he calls out.
“hey, so who is that on stage?” he says with curiosity, never taking his eyes off of you.
the waiter leans closer to him, bending slightly to give a clear answer.
“oh! that's y/n. one of our best dancers, she’s pretty incredible….” he pauses with a look of admiration i’m guessing she caught your attention as well, i presume?”
“y -yeah….” his eyes focused on you.
“well if you want to get a one on one time, we offer quality time with one of the dancers in our private booths located near the bar.” he points to him in the direction of the booths. “the person in charge will gladly help you for more information. the girl with the ponytail, her name is mia, she’ll help you out.” he says with a smile on his face.
“alright thank you.” he nods as the waiter leaves.
shit. you were gorgeous.
he needed to have you tonight.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
you just wanted to go home. you were tired, grumpy but the universe said no. you stride to the private booth. all eyes, observing you with a devouring stare, focusing on you — only you.
you spot mia in the distance. and she spots you.
“heyyy girl, heard you got held back.”
“yeah….., some guy requested me at the last minute — great timing.” you try to shrug it off, but, inside you’re bothered by it. “boss told me that you know where he is?”
“yeah he should be standing around here somewhere………oh!, right there! he’s the one in the white shirt.” she points it out to you.
you glance at the direction of where she was pointing. he leans against the wall, phone in hand, covering the majority of his face. the illumination faded, casting the room in a soft, intimate moonlight glow, making it hard to see what he looked like but you did not care.
you make your way to his direction, wanting to get this over with. “alright, so you requested me?” you say with an exasperated tone.
he perks up from the sudden voice, he puts his phone away to see who was in front of him. it was you.
he utters a sound, only for it to be cut off by you. “yea-”
“alright, i’m going to assume it’s your first time here so i’ll go over the rules: the session is only an hour, there is no kissing, videotaping, touching and definitely no sex. got it?” you state as you lifted your head up to see if he was listening.
“got it.” he says to you, giving a light hearted smile.
it was the guy from before. only from a quick glance, you’d assume he was decent looking but no. this man was attractive, like really attractive. he was tall, taller than you imagined, his presence was intimidating, making the entire club feel like a blur as you look at him. he had a slim physique; his build was visible through his shirt, abs peeking through like he wasn’t trying to show off — he was just well built. his arms were well toned, his skin looked fair and smooth under the faint lighting, his veins visible as they ran down his forearm. he looked effortlessly pretty. your breath hitches, you doze off, not aware of your surroundings. shit, did the air feel hot or was your body hot? you didn’t know which.
“you okay?” he says with worry, as his face expresses concern.
your voice gets caught in your throat, trying to keep your reaction hidden. “y-yeah just got caught off guard, i mean, you’re…..you’re not exactly what i expected.” you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure but your cheeks are flushed and your body feels hot. you’re about to explode.
he chuckles softly, a sound that sends waves throughout your body. “and what exactly did you expect?” he asks, his eyes sparked with amusement and a smirk that hints something intense.
you hesitate, trying to compose the right words. “i don’t know, someone less captivating…..” you admit, shyness is visible in your voice. “you’re just — different.”
his expression softens, he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His presence, suffocating and overwhelming. “is that so…?” his voice, smooth, velvety and soothing to the ears. “you’re not so bad yourself, I'll admit.” he says as he stares at you with a look so — ravenous. “every curve, every breath, every angle, every step you take…..you’re mesmerizing.”
“oh?” you said with a teasing tone. “did my performance make you lose your words?” you look up at him seductively, your voice barely a whisper. “or perhaps did I make you want to explore places you’re dying to touch..?”
you were so close. a slight move, your lips would be touching.
nothing. no response. the answer he gave was his eyes trailing to your lips and then back on yours. he was so lost in them, couldn’t even form a sentence.
feeling satisfied, you slowly back away, leaving him craving more. you gesture to him to follow you by motioning your finger, turning your back as it faces him.
a chill runs down your spine as you feel him following, putting distance between both of you. you felt nervous, his presence imprinted a daunting feeling that left an itch on your body that you couldn’t get rid of.
scanning you, deliberate and lustful. the dips of your back — smooth like porcelain, the way your hips sway as you walk; the fabric motioned to your every move. you were so gorgeous
eyes lingering lower and lower in places that shouldn’t be looked at. it was shameful.
but he couldn’t wait. not even for a minute.
the booth had a deafening silence. the stillness in the room made the intensity between both of you — hot, dazed and disoriented. the door clicks shut behind him, automatically locking you both inside. you slowly turn up the music, not too loud but subtle.
he sits across from you, legs spread, arms stretched across the couch’s edge as he stares at you like a wolf stalking its prey. a teasing grin tugged on his lips as it sent goosebumps along your body.
his eyes never leave yours as you slowly make your way to him. you feel your heart thudding in your chest. each step felt heavy as you drew closer, the tension increasing inch by inch.
you stand in front of him, your hands gently clutching onto his shoulders, the soft touch of your delicate hands felt like a caress. you ease yourself onto his lap, gyrating your hips along his crotch — slow and enticing. you could feel him getting hard against you, the tip of his cock grazing between the inside of your thighs. a slight gasp leaves your lips as it’s poking between your legs, begging to be inside you.
you gaze at him — slow and seductive as he does the same. eyes shamelessly lingering along your body, absorbing every inch of you. he bites his lower lip as the thought of you pleasing him, makes him go feral.
jaw clenching, hands tightening into fists as the sensation was too much to bear. his head felt lightheaded, the tips of ears — tinted with a delicate blush, biting hard on his bottom lip like it was going to bleed from the pressure. he wanted to touch you so bad, restraining himself as he didn’t want to overstep the rules. but it was torturous.
"fuck…..” he muttered, voice low, dripping with arousal. “you’re so sexy…”
the warmth of your body against his made your stomach tingle with excitement. his gaze alone, made your pussy throb with hunger, awakening every fiber of your being — aching with a need for his touch. your breath hitched as his eyes traced the curves, leaving a trail of need, desperation in his stare. you could feel the dampness growing, a silent plea for the relief only he could provide.
every client you’ve had never made you feel like this before. this man had such an impact on you and he was a complete stranger. you didn’t know his name or anything — he could be a creepy guy with unknown intentions. but you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to touch you, in places that you wouldn’t let others touch.
you regret telling him that he couldn’t touch you. in all honesty, you wanted him to use you. fuck company policy, fuck the rules!
before he could process a thought, before he could process a breath, your hands are placed on both of his cheeks — gentle, firm and kind of nice to this touch. your lips crash against his. it catches his breath; uneven with each inhale he takes. he gasps in between each kiss, hands gently gripping your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss becomes sloppier, rough and demanding.
the world spun around you, feeling dizzy from the sensation. his lips trails light kisses down to your chin, neck and along your collarbone. each peck leaving a tingling feeling, a whisper of desire, an anticipation of what’s more to come.
“you taste so sweet baby…..” he mumbles against your skin, his voice, low and teasing.
your skin was so delicate, the feeling of silk in his hands — soft to the touch. he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly as his mouth grazed your skin. you smelled sweet, a creamy aroma resembling a warm embrace. he bites your skin leaving indented marks along your collarbone. your parted lips, your chest rising up and down and the way your body shudders against his own, sends shivers down your spine as he continues to pleasure you.
his hands clamp around your waist, gripping you firmly as he grinds his hips into you, his hardness drawing a sharp gasp to escape.
the clothes draw a barrier between you two, the tension immensely getting hotter with each passing second. a revelation yearning to be unveiled, waiting to be unraveled.
his hands roam lower until he reaches your shorts. he grabs the hem and slowly pulls them down, revealing your panties. you were soaked, a wet spot formed through the thin fabric.
he peels off your panties — gradually yet effortlessly while his lips are still on yours. your pussy, exposed to the cold air causing you to shudder in response. he pulls away, spitting on his middle finger and ring finger. he gently massages your pussy with circular motions, his fingers dripping with your arousal. “shit baby you’re so wet..” he curses under his breath. you whimper as his fingers gently caress your sensitive parts.
without hesitation, he inserts his fingers deep into your hole, your pussy gripping his fingers so tight. shit, the grip you had on his fingers was practically sucking him in, so deep. curling his fingers, tickling your sensitive spots, pumping in and out of you — the sounds of your pussy and your moans overlapping as it bounces across the room. “f-fuck…..mmmph!” you bite your bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh as you can feel the climax arriving. your hands trembling as you gripped on his shirt for support but your body felt weak to the sensation. he was making you feel so good.
“are you getting close, baby?” his voice, laced with hunger. you nod in response, lost in the pleasure to form a sentence. he smirks at the sight of you, he’s created such a mess of you and it wasn’t even his own dick. how will you take his dick if you couldn’t take his fingers?
he increases his pace, your moans becoming louder. the pressure was too much, your body was trembling against him, you couldn’t control it. “s-shit…i-i”m gonna come!” your eyes clenched shut, voice hoarse.
his fingers were drenched with your cum, glistening as ropes of it coat all over. his lips were coated with your hot slick as he barely brushes his fingers over it. his tongue slowly sticks out, licking his fingers as he savours your flavour.
you try to catch your breath, calming down your chest from heaving. until he flips you over, your ass aligned with his crotch.
“eek!” you shriek at the sudden movement.
you hear the sounds of shuffling as he removes his pants —the sound of him taking off his shirt . his belt clinks against the metal, the sharp sound indicates a realization. he was about to fuck you.
the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, caressing your sweet hole with such ease. he grips your waist with a strong hold, positioning you as he takes one hand and aligns it with your entrance. your cum coating the tip of his dick as he slowly inserts it in.
“mmph..!” you gasp, your eyes widened. “fuuuucckkkk……” he dragged out, slowly pumping in and out of you before the pace started to increase rapidly. the grip he had on you was deadly, nails digging into the meat of your skin as the sounds of your pussy, squelching and sloshing against his dick. “baby y-you’re milking me so good..” the sounds of skin to skin contact started to get louder with each second, his grip on your waist moved to your neck, making his dick plunge deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot. “y-you’re f-ffucking me so g-good..” broken moans escape you with each thrust plunging you so good. his swollen dick was swallowing your gummy walls as your tight cunt was squeezing him so tight. “baby y–you gotta loosen up..” he swallowed thickly.
your hands gripped the fat of the couch for support, trying to form a sentence. “haah — you’re too big —”
his eyes darkened at your words, and his pace was brutal.
your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans pouring from your lips as he thrusted into you at such an animalistic pace.
the sounds of you and him were bouncing all over the walls as you both were lost in the pleasure. your lips formed in a line, trying to suppress your moans but he was fucking you so good.
“s-slow down!” you whined out, his dick abusing the fuck out of your cervix, showing no mercy. mmf — sorry baby i c–can’t— not when i have you like this.”
jaehyun tried to keep his voice down but the way your tight greedy pussy was milking his dick was too addicting. he felt his climax arriving with each thrust he jams into you, his whole body tensing as the feeling of the climax was what he needed. he wanted to fuck you ever since he saw you on the stage and he was not going to waste this opportunity. always got to finish what you started.
“b–baby I’m getting close, m’gonna pull out—” he muttered.
you shook your head, putting your hand on his back to keep him inside. “no, just cum i-inside me.”
he swallowed the lump in his throat. did he hear that right? holy shit. “i-inside…is that —”
“f–fuck, please c–cum inside me.” your voice, broken and hoarse.
score.
jaehyun groaned at the thought. you grabbed onto the couch for dear life as he shoots his cum inside of you, bucket loads of it fill you up to the brim — it felt endless. you ride out your orgasm, feeling every little bit wash over you.
he gently eased off of you slowly, pulling his dick out with care. his seed was overflowing, dripping down along your thighs. your skin felt sticky and hot like honey, sweat beading along your forehead as strands of your hair latched onto your skin. the sweat made your skin glow from the soft lightning. your breathing slowly regained to normal as he plopped himself onto the couch also trying to catch his breath. the tension was still thick in the air, “you know, i never catched your name.” you tried to wear off the awkwardness. “jaehyun.” he stares at you as he catches his breath.
the name rolls on your tongue, “jaehyun.” you say softly. this is definitely not the last time you’re both seeing each other.
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ubedolls' notes ⭑.ᐟ hey guys, wrote another fic idea! sorry it took so long. we're sorry to those who can't see the text that much but we gotta keep it pretty. kept overthinking too much while writing but hope y'all enjoy this!
ㅤ𝜗ৎㅤAND THEN I GO AND SPOIL IT ALL BY SAYING SOMETHIN' STUPID LIKE, "I LOVE YOU"ㅤ.ᐟ
synopsis 💬 ／ㅤyou're sure there's something going on with your best friend, as a test — or perhaps as a tease — you send them a rather riskier ootd than usual.
──ㅤ6dream x f.readerㅤ19 screenshotsㅤsuggestiveㅤpathetic & horny menㅤexplict languageㅤ.ᐟㅤevent masterlist
