you say it's not love (baby, which emotion is this?)
@twelveohfour
jin-centric fic writer. mdni.
please read all warnings before reading/interacting! all of the work i post is mine. please do not repost or claim as yours!
what do u think seokjins fav petnames would be? me thinks he'd be calling his partner jagiya cz like thats common duh but i actually cldnt really vision him liking baby as a petname, however that has changed since the release of loser and him saying 'one more time baby' more than once at the rsj ep tour lol. i also feel like he would probably give his partner a name after his fav game characters or specifically maple story characters. i mean he said in a fansign that he wants to be called charmander by his partner, whether it was a joke or not. so maybe this isnt really a stretch. he loves getting called princess so i wonder if he would actually use this term on his female partners (cause its his!).
i mean biblically, canonically accurate would probably be jagi/jagiya, yeobo, right? since honey is about the same thing, so maybe honey, sweetheart, things along those lines? i can see babe or baby too, but not baby girl. maybe my love but i'm undecided, less convinced about my dear tho. i also don't really see stuff like sweetie, doll or angel for him, although EYE myself am partial to that last one so i write it into fics anyway bc yes i try to keep things within the realm of possibility, but i won't lie and say i don't at least partly write what i like to read LMFAOOO. don't even know what other pet names there are tbh we may have gotten them all down 😭
your second point about him calling partners by his fav characters really reminded me of this fic i read where he wanted reader to dress up as princess peach during sex, it's queued to my fic rec blog so it'll be posted in a few days 😭 since he was a big mario stan i think princess would work regardless of him also liking the title for himself, you can't convince me he didn't have even a tiny crush on peach or daisy. also i think even if not specifically a pet name like honey/baby/whatever else, he'd love to use a nickname/shortened form/play on his partner's name just bc he's so affectionate, like how he does with the members, and would probably rarely use their actual name. or if he did, that's how you'd know he was being serious
thoughts on seokjin calling armys sexy 2 days in a row? he knew damn well what hes doing bruh. also when he lifted his white tee, man that was fucking intentional we arent fools 💔💔 #scared of him LOL.
its crazy that hes so shy but also knows exactly what triggers fans...really makes me wonder what hes like as a partner lol. does he tease his partner too or is he too comfortable with them for having to tease lmao.
also seokjin manspreads when he feels sexy (las vegas d3 d4), i love learning about him. and what hes wearing does affect whether he feels sexy or not lololol (not always tho, not in photoshoots much).
not him taking off his jackets only when hes wearing a half sleeves tee inside 😭 son lets recall our run seokjin ep tour amsterdam d2 rendezvous soon 💔💔
oh man my reply is about to be a bunch of bullshit bc i have thoughts on this ask lmfaoo. under the cut bc me and conciseness don't get along whatsoever.
i've said this before but he's very selective/deliberate with the information he shares about himself, so i take this to mean that he's super aware of what he does. He knows how everyone reacts to him sipping his little water during concerts, when he has his solo part in they don't know about us and he's smizing into the cameras, and now calling fans sexy, which is a new one but i'd be gagging if i were in the crowd that day... he knows!! and you can see it in his eyes when he takes in the reactions he gets, too, bc he leans into it. i know the main narrative around him is/was that he's spontaneous/chaotic, but i actually disagree bc i do think he's very measured and deliberate with his actions. so i feel like in that sense, he's also very good at picking up on what fans may want from him and tries to give them that, all while acting within his own boundaries of course (ex.: fans might want him to take his shirt off, which might be out of his comfort zone, but he'll give you an exposed shoulder here or there (and we're thankful). add his perceptiveness to the list of what makes him so sexy, like is there anything he lacks...
i regret so badly that i never got to see him on the rsj tour... genuinely feels like such a missed opportunity on my end esp since every video i've seen from those concerts looked so fun and everyone that saw him had nothing but good things to say about the shows. it was so obvious that he was enjoying and feeling himself and i feel like those shows are the most confident i've ever seen him. the consolation is that his rsj experience has made his aura totally different in group concerts - exhibit A: that wink into the camera a few weeks ago in stanford... (even though he's left behind the rsj tank tops or at least seems to be a lot more conscious of letting the shoulders/biceps come out lmao we were so spoiled then bc if you told me in like 2018-2022 that he'd let us see this much of his chest and arms i would have laughed in your face. but now he's lifting his shirt up at shows (side note he's SO sexy in just athletic wear/plain clothes, has me gagging over alo's basic ass items simply bc he's wearing them) and he's even wearing cardigans with nothing under (thank god for whoever suggested that to him)
as a partner i think he'd def be the same way! he'd know what would make them tick and would lean into that hard. i think he'd love to tease his partner actually and watch them get all flustered off of small things like showing more skin than normal or being more overtly flirty, just watching their reactions would egg him on even more to play into it. i feel like even if the partner was used to seeing him a little less covered up, him switching up from his usual layers or baggy clothes to something a smidge more revealing wouldn't lose its appeal for his partner, and he'd know that, lean into it, tease them for it. (like a 'you've seen my arms a billion times, babe, why are you staring'? but you can't tear your eyes away even though he's caught you ogling him-esque situation), or that's just my take on it, anyway.
i think he has a couple of photoshoots where you can tell he was feeling himself. the w korea shoot he did right after returning from enlistment comes to mind, the marie claire shoot but specifically the ones with the satin shirt/like in my pfp, and the gq shoot bts did as a group recently. the butter concept photos with him in all white and the slicked back brown hair too are another example.
him manspreading will do it for me every time actually 😋😋 since we're all visual learners here are some of my faves...
you can't see the full thing but trust he's manspreading here. it makes him sell the cocky/arrogant aura of that song so well
him from this angle did nasty nasty things to me ngl. like why am i on my knees already?
this last one. let me fire up the alpha ceo mob boss jin fics rn.. like i usually dgaf about daddy kink but why is the first word that comes to mind when i see this photo daddy? just uncouth.
sorry this ended up just being a giant stream of consciousness dump of thoughts LOL but thank you for the message :3
the voices in my head are telling me to write a single dad au but i have to hold myself back bc there are no joke 5 other fics that i have in the works rn, including 2 that are close to being done
me when it comes to coming up with fic ideas vs me when it comes to actually writing the fics whose ideas i come up with..
little update timeline: hoping to have my latest fic out sometime this week, but after that i'm going to be taking a little break from writing or future me is going to deeply hate herself for not doing her work 😔 i'll be getting back to my wips and the few requests i got in a few weeks once my schedule frees up more!
i had this idea in mind like oh my god it's just so filthy perfect for seokjin....
imagine husband seokjin with you and the other bts members hanging out at his place, and since you've been getting too much attention from them, he feels like he's not doing enough as a husband
so like,,, he sits down beside you and then he makes subtle sexual moves towards y/n (literally just playfully feeling their waist, carefully separating their thighs teasingly, whispering things to y/n's ear) while the members are literally sitting across and beside them.
up to your imaginations but just husband seokjin literally right out fucking y/n infront of them to show who she really belongs to 👀
(ppl are seriously forgetting seokjin can be a possessive, dom type of guy and its just soooo attractive lmk your thoughts omg)
oh this idea is taking it omg... you asked me what i think and this was my exact reaction to this message. me when he gets a little jealous and wants to remind everyone what's his...
putting read more just bc the rest of this is nsfw (minors OUT)
possessive, slightly jealous dom with the progressively more obscene touches YES INDEED. but i think he'd probably stop short of actually fucking yn in front of the group simply bc i don't know if i really associate exhibitionism with him. like yes i realize this is fanfic/you have to suspend your disbelief a bit/it's literally not real etc all that fun stuff but hm. i just think he's too possessive to share that view of his wife with anyone else even if it is to make them understand/even remind her that she's his
defo could see foreplay happening openly, or just getting really really handsy with yn in a way that's meant to prove the point that she isn't for anyone else though.. whether it's a groping and fingering under the blanket or table type beat then sucking those fingers into his mouth or making her suck on them (and everyone sees that and is like Oh...), really really overbearing touches, kisses that go beyond cute/romantic and are bordering obscene, leaving hickies, putting yn in his lap or in an otherwise compromising position (moaned just writing this one out) to almost humiliate her for even entertaining others' attention... just anything to convey that she's his short of actually fucking in front of everyone, so they get the hint and fuck off.
what i can absolutely see though is him taking yn somewhere (like if it's a restaurant or a party just taking them to another room) and when they get back yn is all marked up, can't think/walk straight etc so what they were doing is just that obvious, so everyone else is just like OKAY WE GET IT... that's your wife. bonus if he keeps her panties and tells her to stay like that for the rest of the night without anyone else seeing otherwise she's getting punished when they get home. but the fucking in front of everyone part you're gonna have to sell me on a little more haha
i think you need to write fic!! the people would love this (i'm the people) and i'm sure it's not just me, or i can add this to my ever growing pile of requests LOL
Genre: established relationship (married) AU, smut, fluff, slice of life
Rating: 18+/NSFW, minors DNI
Word count: 9.5k (this was supposed to be short, believe it or not)
Summary: A diamond has many facets, especially the diamonds on the gorgeous pieces of jewelry that your husband Seokjin is paid to promote. You quickly learn that there are a lot more benefits to having a husband paid to model jewelry than meets the eye.
Or, a series of pwp blurbs about a reader who’s just really thirsty for the sight of her husband in high-end jewelry, with a hint of domesticity.
Warnings: Swearing. Zero plot, just smut; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; dirty talk; unprotected sex; creampie; spitting; cum eating; spanking/impact play; mentions of choking; sensory deprivation (blindfolding); use of sex toys; hints of size kink; overstimulation; praise kink; body worship; deep throating; cockwarming; use of degrading names. Reader’s a little bratty and possessive. Kind of canon compliant but only because of the jewelry sponsorship; no mention of why someone might even be sponsored by a fine jewelry brand, so you can use your imagination 😇
Notes: As promised, here it is! Basically if this one gif was a fic. Jin's Marie Claire shoot was the primary inspiration behind this, and every time he’d debut a new piece of jewelry during concerts or something I would sigh and open up my laptop to start writing. This fic in one line: we keep the gold chains ON during sex.
Credits: Dividers from strangergraphics. Do not reupload/repost this fic -- this is my original work.
It’s not hard being married to a man who models for a high-end jewelry brand, you think. Not at all.
Sure, the material perks of the partnership between your husband and the jewelry brand that flowed over to you were nice; you can’t say Seokjin coming home on random days with necklace, earring and bracelet sets whose retail prices almost equalled an entire month’s worth of your salary was anything worth complaining about. And you definitely hadn’t minded Seokjin fawning over the way the brilliant jewelry complemented your skin tone, how it adorned your body like it was meant to be there.
Despite this, your appreciation for your husband’s jewelry sponsorship is almost totally selfless. Actually, sometimes, you wish Seokjin would just keep all of the pieces he’d been gifted for himself. It’s not because you don’t like them, far from it; but because he simply makes them look so good, does them justice in a way you don’t think anyone else could. The dainty jewelry pieces Seokjin models make him look even more like the picture of elegance that drew you to him initially, all those years ago, and you often catch yourself admiring the way the necklace he’s most fond of sits gently on his collarbone, falling right above the moles you love to trace early on lazy Sunday mornings. You can never tear your eyes away when he goes bolder either, opting for thick, crystal-encrusted chokers that make his swanlike neck stick out all the much more.
But you’re admittedly a fickle thing, and you think the best part about the too-expensive jewelry that he’s been wearing is the versatile, rather multifaceted nature of it, how it veers beyond simply being aesthetically beautiful to actually being carnally pleasing.
You’re quite biased, but you think the way the brand’s necklaces look dangling above you is, by far, their best look. You think maybe the brand should advertise its necklaces from the perspective of how they’d look hanging above someone (not Seokjin, though, because God knows you wanted him to yourself too much to share that particular view with anyone else). The view of the stupidly expensive chain currently swinging in front of your face is erotic enough to launch a thousand ships, sell a million necklaces.
A bead of sweat drips down your husband’s temple, and if you had been any more present, you would have reached up and caught it before it splattered on your face. As it is, though, you’re so lost in your own pleasure that you can’t even remember your own name, much less how to do much of anything with your limbs.
Being wound up all night more times than you cared to count and only being allowed to come once while being halfway to your second orgasm does tend to have that effect.
The thrusts of his thick, pulsing cock inside you are synced perfectly to the rhythm at which the pendant of the thin chain he’s grown accustomed to wearing is swinging in your face, almost with a pendulum-like regularity. As he withdraws fully, the diamond-encrusted pendant moves further away from you, and when he slams back in, forcing his cock head to meet your G-spot in a way that makes your spine arch, the necklace’s bejewelled pendant gets so close to you that you could probably suck it into your own mouth if you just tilted your chin upwards the slightest bit. If you could think of anything other than the way Seokjin is pounding into you fervently, you’d probably be hypnotized by the way his changes of pace now make the heavy pendant around his neck sway and twist every which way: in, out, front, back.
He takes his next thrust as an opportunity to take the soles of your feet and push your thighs up into your chest, letting him slide in all the more deeper inside of you. “Taking me so good,” he gets out under his breath as you belatedly react to the change in position.
"Fuck, so fucking deep," you gasp. The stretch of your legs, along with the stretch of your walls in this new position, is so deliciously overwhelming that it sends your hands up to tangle in the thick, black hair at the back of his neck.
As he slams back in and adjusts your legs so they’re more firmly tucked into your chest, one of your hands absentmindedly forms a fist around his necklace. With the press of his length against your G-spot, you keen upwards, inadvertently taking his chain with you as you do so. You’re met with a sharp hiss from your husband as the white gold is pulled taut in your hand and the chain goes thin and flat across the front of his neck. You watch briefly, eyes flitting over the skin underneath the chain as it gets a little red in response. He’s always been so responsive, so reactive to your every touch, and his neck is perhaps the best illustration of that.
“Do it again,” mumbles Jin, and you dutifully follow, giving the chain another experimental pull upwards. With each subsequent yank, his cock pulses inside of you, though you can’t tell if it’s because you’re making his necklace dig deliciously into his vascular neck, or if it’s because his thrusts are getting so erratic that your pussy has no choice but to clench around him in response.
“Squeezing me so goddamn hard, my perfect girl, shit,” he groans, and the waver in his voice gives away how affected he is. Sure enough, with the next swing of his pendant in your face, his balls press against your ass as he buries himself deep inside of you, and suddenly the delicious weight of him is falling forward as he comes with a low grunt. His softening cock slips out of you along with the release he’d pumped deep inside of you. You whimper more than a little pathetically at the loss of him, still waiting desperately for the onset of your own orgasm.
“I know, I know,” your husband soothes, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek. “I've got you.” You nod eagerly, eager to get to the same relief he’d just experienced himself.
Seokjin slides himself down your body, gently settling your legs back down, but instead of finishing you off with his hands like you’d expected, it’s his soft mouth that greets your core, kissing around your lower lips. He’d already eaten you out to one orgasm, and it looked like he wanted to bring you to a second one on his mouth. You’re not complaining; he’s as skilled with his mouth as he is with any other part of him.
“So pretty for me here too,” he marvels, pulling away briefly to stroke your sex with the light touch of his fingertips. “Can tell your pussy got fucked so good, got all puffy and swollen for me.” His voice is light but his gaze on you is all too heated to be a joke. You heat up under his words and attention focused on the most intimate part of you.
“Need more,” you whine. He doesn’t respond, but seems to heed your order, because he leans back in, wasting no time as he traces your lips with his tongue before focusing his attention to your clit and laps right at the sensitive nub until you’re keening into his mouth. His tongue darts between your folds in earnest now, dipping shallowly into your entrance before he flattens the appendage and licks all the way up to your clit. “Ah, keep going,” you hiss. You don’t even realize you’re speaking and not thinking until you hear the words leave your mouth.
You don’t register the upward motion of your hips until the raw strength of Jin’s palm firmly pushes one of your hipbones down onto the bed, blocking you from further movement. You can’t help it; the way he uses his lips, the way he knows just how to draw a reaction out of you using nothing more than his tongue to create expert swipes through your folds and thrusts into your core is delicious, and your body acts on its own accord to chase more of that feeling. You’re practically vibrating with need now, and you know he can tell, because you hear a low chuckle from below you.
Seokjin pulls away from you, mouth glistening in the room’s dim light. “Try and be patient,” he chides, before resuming his ministrations. “Think you can manage that for me, angel?” He asks sweetly, and you can only let out a mewl. When his tongue returns to you this time, it’s accompanied by two fingers meeting your clit. He rubs the bundle of nerves raw in perfect symphony with his tongue fucking you open, and you cry out.
Your breath catches in your throat as the movements of his tongue grow more desperate, frenzied, at your sex. “Close,” you squeak. It’s becoming too much to bear, pressure building in your lower half with every passing moment.
Still hard at work eating you out, he hooks the index and middle fingers of his free hand into your mouth, pulling your jaw down by your lower teeth to part your lips. You quickly catch his drift, opening your mouth wider for him. The next swirl of fingers at your clit, accompanied by a scooping thrust of his tongue inside of you, is all it takes for the knot in your lower stomach to burst open, filling you with searing heat. You sag into the pillows below you with a loud sigh, the relief from finally reaching your orgasm palpable.
When Jin gets back up to kneel beside you, you belatedly realize he’d been using his tongue to collect the cum he’d left in you earlier, which he spits out into your mouth. “Swallow for me?” He asks, eyes hungrily fixed on yours. Of course, you acquiesce, wasting no time in doing so. The taste of your mutual releases is heady, sharp on your tongue; you can taste his distinct saltiness along with something you recognized as being uniquely your own essence, something he would swear up and down was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted.
“Good girl,” he coos, bringing his lips to your own so you can kiss the rest of your releases off of him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
(The next morning, you’re mindlessly buttering a slice of bread in the kitchen and trying not to think too hard about the dull ache between your legs when your husband comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Morning, beautiful,” he mumbles, voice still a little scratchy from disuse. “That for me?”
“No,” you grumble, but shove the now-buttered toast in his direction anyway. He snickers, taking a big bite of your offering.
“You tried choking me last night,” Seokjin says accusingly, mid-chew.
You snort and turn around to face him. Thinking back on your previous night’s activities brought up plenty of delicious memories, but you couldn’t say that choking him had been one of them. “Definitely didn’t try choking you. I think I’d remember that.”
“Yanking on my necklace like you wanted to rip it off me doesn’t ring a bell?” He raises an eyebrow.
Oh. That, you did remember. Though you hadn’t known it had left such an impact on him, nor that it had actually managed to choke him. “Must have done it without realizing,” you pause, lost in thought, and steal what’s left of your toast back from your husband. “Sorry?” You follow your apology up by shoving the sliver of toast he’d so graciously left for you in your own mouth, a little embarrassed.
“No apologies needed. When you pulled that chain around me, kind of felt like I was gonna choke, honey. I liked how it felt,” he says casually.
“Is that right?” The pitch of your voice rises upwards as you smirk. “Interesting information.”
And if you tug at his chain experimentally when he pulls you into a kiss, he has only himself to blame for telling you what he likes.)
You were also thankful to the brand for teaching you that jewelry could have an auditory dimension. You couldn’t say that you’d been aware of the sonic qualities of jewelry before, but apparently, diamond makes lovely sounds when crunched under one’s teeth. Perhaps it’s a quality unique to Seokjin and the literal treasure troves of jewelry he’s been sent home with.
You’d been slumping against the headboard one day, fresh off of an impromptu session with your vibrator, when your husband had gotten home from work. When Seokjin loosened the tie he’d been wearing that day with one hand and said “I have an idea” with a devilish glint in his eyes and his hand still clutching the royal blue tie he’d just undone, you’d nodded vigorously, offering your wrists up towards him.
He’d only chuckled. “Maybe later. Not quite what I had in mind. But good idea, though.”
Boy, you’d had no idea what you were in for.
Seokjin had leaned in and the scrap of silk had slipped over your eyes, a little warm from where it had been crumpled up in his hand, before his fingers had deftly knotted the tie into a neat bow at the back of your head.
“How many fingers am I holding up, ________?” He had joked.
“Eight,” you’d deadpanned. “I don’t know, I can’t see for shit.” That had earned you a smack to the fat of your ass.
“Brat,” he’d muttered, pushing you down onto the bed with the push of his fingers. “On your knees.” You'd complied eagerly before gasping in surprise as he’d pulled you up so that you were in a tall kneel.
Not being able to see had heightened the rest of your senses, forcing you to rely solely on feel and sound to get your bearings. Not that you really needed any bearings at the moment, though; you’re still securely on your bed, but your legs have been spread a little wider to accommodate the intrusion of your husband’s cock from behind you. From his position behind you, Seokjin holds your wrists behind your back in one large hand, pulling your upper back into his chest as his other hand alternates between your breasts, going from roughly palming each one to tweaking your nipples, all as he’s splitting you open.
Ironically, your lack of sight has only added to your pleasure; to say you’re overstimulated would be the understatement of the century.
From this position, Jin seems even bigger; not just the sheer size of his broad frame dwarfing yours from behind you, but the length of his cock, barely conquerable even after the thorough preparation you and your vibrator had gone through earlier, feels impossibly larger inside of you somehow in your kneeling position. You’re stretched wide around him, with no choice but to accept the languid movement of his cock inside of you. The slow rolls of his hips deliver agonizingly precise strokes that need little power to have you mewling, letting him expertly tap onto the spongy patch inside of you that creates stars behind your eyes. The angle at which he’s spearing into you lets him easily get to spots inside you that are the hardest to reach.
“God, so f-full,” you sigh contentedly. He only presses a kiss to the side of your neck in response, movements not slowing down a bit. From where your back is glued to his chest, you feel his torso turn away as if he’s in search of something, though you can’t figure out what he’s reaching out for.
When you hear a click and the telltale hum of the vibrator you thought you’d done a good job of hiding beneath an artful crumple of the blankets when you’d heard his keys turn in the lock, your cheeks heat up.
“Having fun before I got here, weren’t we,” your husband says dryly. “Kind of want to see what I missed out on. Want to show me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, and suddenly, the vibrator’s buzz mixes with your surprised cry as he presses it right onto your clit. The feeling of his cock familiarizing itself with your G-spot from inside of you is enough on its own, but it's almost too much to bear when it’s coupled with the unforgiving, incessant motion of the toy against your sensitive bud. You know he doesn’t mind your instinctive clenches around his cock in response, not if the sudden sharp intakes of breath coming from behind you are any indication.
“Please,” you can only whisper in response to him pressing the plastic toy against the raw nerve endings of your clit in tandem with the now-frenzied snapping of his hips as he bottoms out inside of you on every thrust. “‘m—close. P-please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” Seokjin obliges, tapping the toy onto you a few more times. Your knees nearly give out in pure ecstasy as your orgasm sets in, so quickly and with such a pulsing insistence that you can’t even vocalize anything beyond a strained gasp that catches in your throat, and he tosses the now-silenced toy aside, using his adept fingers to roll at your nub and work you through the dregs of your orgasm. It only takes a sharp tug at your wrists, still held firmly behind your back in his large hand, for him to keep you upright and anchor you back to his chest. You throw your head back onto his shoulder at his show of pure, unbridled strength as he keeps your body upright, pressed against his own with seemingly no effort.
It feels like you’re being brought directly to heaven, or more accurately, dragged down to hell with the punishing pace of his fingers and cock, walls growing tighter around him after your orgasm. The way he’s twitching inside of you tells you he’s as affected as you had been just moments ago. Vaguely, you think you register a faint clang of metal somewhere, although it’s hard to make anything specific out when your pulse is thudding in your ears and your brain is hazy from pleasure.
His pumps inside of you are growing more and more erratic when a dull metallic scrape, one that would probably have gone unnoticed if you were paying any less attention to the sounds around you, suddenly registers in your ears. The sound of the scrape is nearly in direct response to the way you’re clenching around him in overstimulation. Then, you hear what can only be described as a light crunch, and it occurs to you what it is you’re hearing: nothing other than Seokjin’s necklace coming into contact with the enamel of his perfectly straight teeth in satisfaction as he hits just the right spot inside of you.
You’ve seen him absentmindedly take the pendant into his mouth when he’s lost in thought or when he’s concentrating playing games, so it’s not a stretch to assume that’s what’s happening now. Even with the blindfold still taking away your sight, you can almost vividly see what’s going on: he’s taken his pendant into his mouth, and you’re hearing it catch on this teeth and the sound of him biting down on it, hard, as he reaches his own end, spilling into you with a grunt that gets muffled into the sinewy juncture of where your neck bleeds into your shoulder.
“You biting down on your necklace all because of me, baby?” You tease, shuddering at the sudden emptiness as he slips out of you. “Aw, felt that good inside of me, huh?” You clumsily undo the blindfold, blinking slowly as the room's light floods your eyes.
“I think we need to try a gag for you next time, ________”, he growls, arms tightening around your frame as you both fall onto the bed.
(The necklace, miraculously, survives your tryst without a scratch, despite the gold's tendency to be damaged by impact -- like teeth clamping down on it. You suppose you’ll just have to challenge yourself to get Seokjin to leave marks on it next time.)
Another aspect of Seokjin's jewelry you’d come to learn about over his time working with the brand? How good the jewelry felt. Not just for the wearer, but on others. Especially on the most, well. Sensitive parts of others.
Seokjin had come home one day, fingers adorned with bands of varying thicknesses. The brand was focusing on their new ring collection and wanted him to promote them, he’d explained. Though the novelty of seeing him with necklaces and bracelets on had more or less worn off now that he’d been working with them for a few months, the rings were a completely new addition. He didn’t typically wear any rings aside from his low-profile wedding band, so the sight of several new, flashy bands on his slim fingers had caught you off guard.
All of his explanations had gone in one of your ears and out the other; you had been too busy admiring the way the bones of his long fingers were encased by the thick, bejewelled bands, how delicate he made the thinner, smaller rings look. The contrast between his large hands whose veins prominently stuck out and the polished, elegant rings he’d selected had made your mouth water.
Somehow, though, you’d managed to hold yourself back, quell whatever feelings Seokjin’s ringed fingers were stirring up inside of you. You’d been making dessert together later that evening, a chocolate cake in response to his sudden sweet tooth, when the temptation to do some market research of your own about the rings gracing your husband’s fingers had become too much to bear.
“Hey, you got a little cake batter on your hand,” you point out innocently, waiting for him to react. As he quizzically raises his hand out in front of him to examine it, a grin grows on your face like the cat that had eaten the canary.
“Where?” He says quizzically, flexing his hand as his rounded eyes scan it. “Where'd you see it? I don’t see anything.”
“Let me get it,” you roll your eyes and heave a sigh, as if you’re doing him some giant, taxing favour. Smoothly, you take his hand in your smaller one and, keeping direct eye contact with him, you take his index finger into your mouth up to the thick white-gold band that sits at the base of the finger, making sure to blink up at him through your eyelashes as you do. His eyes widen in surprise before turning dark.
You slide his finger out of your mouth with a lewd plop and get back to stirring the batter, folding it up and down like you give a shit. “Hmm, the batter tastes a little more metallic than I’m used to. Maybe it needs more sugar or something?” Your brow furrows in feigned concentration as you muse offhandedly, still watching as his eyes fill with lust.
That’d been how you’d ended up in this rather undignified position. You’d been hoisted up onto the kitchen island as if you’d taken the place of the dessert you were supposed to be making, shirt long discarded and legs falling open as Seokjin’s hands rubbed your heat through the sodden fabric of your panties. The bowl of half-prepared cake batter had been unceremoniously shoved onto a nearby counter.
“Who knew you’d be such a whore for these rings? So horny, all over some jewelry. Are you so easy that all it took to get you this wet was me wearing some rings?” he teases.
“Been distracted ever since you came home wearing them, wanted to feel them on me so bad,” you admit shamelessly, making direct eye contact with him, watching as his eyes narrow and jaw tightens as you go on. “Hands look so sexy when they’re all decorated and pretty.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “I could tell. Made up a stupid excuse to suck on my finger, talking about ‘there’s cake batter on your hand’,” his voice raises in pitch to emulate yours, and you roll your eyes at his exaggerated imitation of you. “Such a nasty girl, soaking her panties over some rings. Just wanted my attention, right? Wanted me to touch you with the rings on?” He’s really just goading you now.
Throbbing in anticipation for what he'll do next, all you can do is nod vigorously. He’s dead right, and you love it when his usual warmth disappears in favour of him being a little mean. The feeling of his fingers on your sex, even through a layer of fabric, is delicious; the rings, hard and unforgiving, make you squirm as they contrast with your soft flesh.
Your panties are roughly pulled to the side as if he’s in too much of a rush to even pull them all the way down your legs, and when the cool metal of his rings meets your heated folds, it’s an invigorating feeling. Still making no move to enter you, he does a few more experimental drags of the ringed fingers along your wet slit. The feeling is new and all too delectable, the feeling of the blunted edges of the diamond studs of one of the rings completely alien as they catch onto your folds.
The view of the cuffs and bracelets adorning his slim wrists, glimmering in the kitchen light, as his torturous movements have all the hairs on your body rising is an added bonus. It’s not long before he’s playing with your pussy like it’s an instrument he’s seeking to master, brushing over your lips and spreading them apart, doing everything but actually entering you.
If you bite down any harder on your bottom lip, you feel like it will explode. “Fingers feel so fucking good with the rings on, Jinnie.” As your mouth forms around his name, Seokjin’s ringed fingers brush up right against the delicate hood of your clit — intentional or not, you’re not sure — and you stiffen.
Of course your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed, and he does it again, watching carefully to see if you react just as much a second time. Indeed, you do. “So sensitive, princess,” your husband murmurs, hearing your breath catch in your throat.
That minuscule reaction seems to awaken something inside of him. He moves to lightly tap your clit with his ringed fingers, keeping his eyes on you at all times to monitor your reaction. On cue with his next tap, which is a little harder than the previous ones had been, your leg, once stretched out flat on the counter, tenses so that your knee flexes upwards and the sole of your foot comes up to rest flatly on the cold marble. He takes this as a sign to tap harder, making sure the heavy metal is in direct contact with your bud every time, and you sob in blissful agony.
“Feels — ah, hurts,” you whine, voice spiking up in pitch as Seokjin lays another ringed finger on your clit.
He’s just relishing in seeing you squirm, you can tell.
“Hurts? You’re dripping all over the fucking counter with every touch, though. My dirty girl must like it a little rough,” he murmurs sweetly with a kiss to your inner thigh, tone and demeanour in total contrast to the absolutely depraved feelings he’s drawing out of you.
Bastard.
It’s when you begin to writhe out of overstimulation that Seokjin takes pity on you. Well, at least you think it’s pity.
“Roll over,” he mutters, and you oblige, eager to see what he has in mind for you. Your front is pressed to the cool counter, contrasting the heat running through the rest of your body, and he lazily manhandles you to pull your hips down until your ass is close enough to him for his liking and you’re bent at the hips, lower half hanging off of the edge of the counter. You almost break your neck trying to adjust yourself so that you can watch what’s going on behind you. The sight itself is sinful; the bracelets he’s taken a liking to wearing glitter in the warm light of your kitchen as his hands trail slowly down your bare back to meet your ass. The grey sweatpants Seokjin prefers to wear at home do absolutely nothing to hide his arousal; clearly you’re not the only one turned on.
Though even the hardest of Seokjin’s taps on your clit had been pretty light, keeping in mind the sensitivity of the region, he has no such qualms for the meat of your ass cheeks. The first strike of his open palm is so sharp on its own that it has you recoiling into the firm counter, abdominal muscles clenching instinctively as if to brace against the impact of the hits, but the impact of the rings adds an additional, deliciously biting layer to the equation that has you near tears embarrassingly quickly. He alternates between light swats with only his fingers and harder slaps with his whole palm, making sure his ringed fingers are a focal point of the contact.
“Aw, that’s gonna hurt,” your husband drawls after a smack of his palm on your left glute, taking a break to soothe the skin, now burning hot with pain, with sweeping caresses of his palms. The sarcasm dripping off his words is practically tangible. “Might even leave bruises or something, princess.”
He’s evil.
“Fuck, l-like you care. You love leaving marks on — fuck — me,” you manage to sob out through the tears that well up in your eyes, though you’re interrupted by several smacks meeting the fat of your ass.
“My pretty wife is so smart, isn’t she?” The condescension in his tone isn’t lost on you, nor does it go unappreciated. You know he loves putting you in your place, setting you straight, and it makes you drip all the more for him. The cold air of the kitchen feels like a caress on the wetness between your legs, and you’re sure it’s visible how affected you are. Seokjin returns to his previous motions, taking care to ensure his ring-adorned fingers are also landing blows on your ass rather than only his palms.
The added impact from the rings on his fingers is becoming almost too much to bear. The tears freely spill down your face with every passing blow to your ass, and you’re sure you won’t be able to comfortably sit down after this.
“Not even touching your pussy and she’s still dripping this much,” he says, amazed. “You really like getting spanked that much, angel?” As if on cue, your pussy clenches around nothing, his words reminding you that he hasn’t even inserted a single finger inside you.
“Please, please,” you wail out, positively aching now.
“Use your words, princess. I can’t read your mind,” he says, bored. “What is it that you want?”
“Want fingers in me,” you get out, surprisingly more coherent than you feel.
“You’ve been so good. Think I can do that for you, give you what you’re begging for,” your husband coos, moving to leave kisses on the hot flesh and soothe the redness now blooming there with his bejewelled hands, and you wince as the diamond-studded metals bite into your skin.
When the soothing hand motions suddenly end, you feel the familiar breach of a blunt finger at your entrance and sigh contentedly at the feeling of finally being filled as Seokjin’s middle finger drags inside of your walls. The additional feeling of the hard metal inside of you is new, but not displeasing; it’s a curious contrast to the velvet skin stretched over hard bone that you’ve grown accustomed to feeling.
Once you’ve gotten used to the one finger, he slots in a second finger, also adorned with a ring. He (wisely) must have removed the diamond-studded ring, because you don’t feel any additional projections on the bands that are dragging along your walls, just the metal bands of varying thicknesses on the two fingers inside of you. Lazily, Seokjin curls his fingers inside of you, but makes no move to do anything else.
“Fuck yourself on them for me. You wanted my fingers so badly, use them,” he says, delivering another sharp smack to your ass cheek with his free hand. The abrasiveness of his words forces you to clench around him.
Though it’s hard to do that (or much of anything) from your position flat on the counter, you try your best, so agonizingly close to relief that you’ll do anything to get. You give a few experimental rocks of your hips to send them backward, which grants you some more relief in the form of his fingers and the metal encasing them rubbing against your hot walls, but it’s just not enough, doesn’t let his fingers get as deep as you need them. Instead, you get up on your forearms, lifting your torso up off of the counter and pushing up on your forearms so you have more room to move and rut against the two fingers he’s so generously offered you. This time you’re successful; the increased range of motion you have in your new position allows you to draw his fingers in further, faster, just the way you like. It doesn’t take long before your desperate ministrations have you shaking, coil inside of your stomach tightening with every shift of your hips. In desperation, your hand slides under you to rub at your clit in the hopes it’ll finish you off.
Not missing a beat, Seokjin slaps your wrist away from your cunt before you’ve even had a chance to begin stimulating yourself. “Slut. Wasn’t even enough for you to use my fingers to fuck yourself, greedy clit needed attention too. Tsk,” he chides. Your cheeks burn at his words.
In spite of his words, he replaces your own hand with his. You’re met by the same ringed finger he’d used to tap your clit swollen earlier, and it only takes a few more taps like those, in tandem with your desperate movements against the fingers that are now scissoring against your velvet walls, to send your chest falling back onto the counter as your arms give out under your body weight. “S-jin-ah!” You cry out in relief, a mix of his name and some jumbled curses, as your orgasm washes over you.
His fingers slip out of you as your walls constrict following your orgasm, but the finger at your clit stays there, still tapping at you with the unforgiving consistency of a metronome. “Too much,” you pant after a few beats, swatting his ringed finger away from your clit. He chuckles, but moves it away after you let out another garbled protest, and pulls you up to face him.
“Sorry you might not be able to sit down tomorrow,” Seokjin says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Probably have to call out of work,” you murmur tiredly, falling into his broad chest. Wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last.
(Later that night, you’re in bed, drifting off to sleep when a thought occurs to you. “That chocolate cake would be so good right about now,” you sigh wistfully.
“Wonder whose fault it was that we got distracted,” he retorts dryly from beside you.
“Yours, technically,” you snap back. It’s true; everything had started with you thirsting over his ringed fingers, so if he had just left the rings off, you'd be blissfully eating cake right now, probably.
He flicks your forehead before he turns around, drifting off to sleep.)
You suppose you have another reason to be appreciative of the jewelry; how the sight of its pieces on your husband awakens your creative spirit. You’d argue the model is the primary source of your inspiration, though, but you suppose you can give the brand and its creations some credit for your sudden artistic awakening.
Earlier, your husband had returned from an event — a ‘fucking snoozefest’, as he’d described it before hopping in the shower — where he’d been tasked with schmoozing and hobnobbing with industry insiders as he showed off the brand’s newest collection. After emerging from the shower, he’d tumbled onto the bed in only his half-buttoned pyjama shirt and matching pants, not bothering to take any of his jewelry off. You’d been idly reading your book, but to say you’d been able to focus on the page you’d been reading after being faced with the sight of a fresh-faced, bare-chested Seokjin would be a lie.
“How was your day, beautiful?” He asks idly, eyes fluttering as he tries to fight back the urge to succumb to sleep.
“Boring. Had to train some newbie at work and it made me want to slam my head on my desk. It’s a lot better now that you’re back, though,” you grin, eyes shamelessly eating up the sight in front of you. You notice right away that he’d selected a new piece for the event: it was a longer chain, layered over top of the short one that he usually wore. The pendant of the chain falls heavy, landing somewhere in between his pecs, and you eye it hungrily. Your mouth is practically watering now.
“I like the new necklace, Jinnie,” you murmur, leaning over to place a warm kiss on his full lips. Even though you know he’s dead tired, his hands reach up to gently meet your head, tangling in your hair as he pulls you into him and lazily kisses you back from his prone position on the bed. “Such a good model, baby, they’re so lucky to have you working with them. So handsome.” His cheeks heat under your praise, and fuck if you’re not turned on now.
You take a moment to deepen the kiss, suckling on his bottom lip, before a thought flashes into your mind. You pull yourself off of his lips, which is a Herculean task considering Seokjin’s soft mouth. “I think I know how to make the necklace look even better, though,” you giggle mischievously.
“Mm? And how might that be?” His eyes lazily open to follow your movements, blinking slowly as they meet your playful gaze.
You hum, pretending to ponder your course of action for a bit. “Think we could benefit from a dash of colour,” you say. You push his shirt off of him, scrambling to undo the buttons he’s done up seemingly at random, before you crawl down his body. You’re eye level with his toned stomach now, leaving light kisses above his navel before greedily running your hands over his ab muscles, and you feel him shudder in response. You busy yourself with leaving a trail of wet kisses along his abs, moving upward to meet the shorter, delicate chain he typically wears resting atop of his pecs. His skin, always so reactive to your touch, is practically blooming in response to your ministrations. The way the gold chains he has on pop against his skin when the normally creamy skin gets flushed with arousal is stunning.
He lets out a contented hum, and you see him fighting to keep his eyes open. You lave kisses on each pec, paying special attention to each one of his dusky nipples, swirling your tongue over each one much like he does on your own chest. He’s sensitive there, very much so, hands flying up to tangle into your hair at the first instance of contact between your hot tongue and his nipple.
You move to focus on each pec in earnest. “Been hitting chest more often at the gym, honey?” You coo, in between laving your tongue over the hot flesh. “It shows.”
Seokjin chuckles, which trails off into a moan as your thumb moves up to graze his other nipple in the way you know he likes. As you suckle harder on his pec, his hand absentmindedly yanks in your hair, and when your teeth finally make their appearance on his fleshy muscle to leave a light bite, he keens upwards into your touch, short nails digging into your scalp in some combination of pain and pleasure.
You’re sure his styling team is going to hate you for the next week once they see the aftermath of your efforts on his chest, but you can’t find it in yourself to give a single fuck. If they could see him like you did, you’re sure they’d find your actions to be totally justified.
You, somehow, tear your lips off his pecs and travel back upward to his collarbones, making sure to give them the same attention you’d given the lower half of his chest, letting your tongue trace each collarbone from where it peeked under the thin skin of his sternum to where it ended at the width of his shoulder. And though you have enough restraint (and sympathy for his makeup team) to not leave any marks on his neck, that doesn’t stop you from kissing up and down the thick column as he writhes in pleasure underneath you. The kitten licks you leave on his pulse point have him shuddering, sighing sharply, and you can tell he’s enjoying it. The tips of his ears are burning red in the same way they do when he gets attention. “Feels so good, princess,” he groans.
“Only for you,” you coo, pushing his damp hair out of his face so you can see him better. “Treat me so well. Let me take care of you for once.” If it’s even possible, he reddens more at your attention and the amount of praise you’re layering on thick now.
The dampness in your panties is bordering on uncomfortable now, but you push through. Seeing Seokjin’s fair skin blush up with every movement of your lips, hearing his breathy moans in direct response to your actions, tasting and smelling the unique combination of greens and sandalwood that was so uniquely him is worth it, and you decide you can hang on a bit longer.
“You like that? Want me to make you feel even better?” You murmur softly, blinking up at him, but it’s almost rhetorical because you can already predict his answer, what with the contented noises you’ve been drawing out of him with your measured movements.
He nods yes, brown eyes peering out under heavy lids and long lashes. You leave a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before happily obliging, dragging his waistband down just enough to set his cock free, now hard and weeping at the tip, and watch as it slaps his lower stomach. The sight makes you want to lick your lips.
You give yourself a moment to admire the sight in front of you, the protruding, throbbing vein along the side of his cock that leads from his tip down to his balls; the dark red bordering purple of his cock head, looking ready to burst; the thick length of it, standing tall and proud against his stomach. Suddenly, your mouth waters, and you want nothing more than to feel it in your throat right away.
You let your thumb collect the moisture at his tip to spread it along his length, and he lets out a hiss, hand reaching up to catch your wrist mid-stroke.
“No more teasing, please, ________,” Seokjin pleads. It’s a rare event; usually you’re the one to be begging in the bedroom, which makes you cherish the sight even more.
You nod and leave a gentle, light kiss to his tip, one he would have thought he was imagining if he didn’t watch you do it, before you get to work. First, you use your tongue to swirl around his sensitive head, just like you know he likes, before hollowing your cheeks out to take the first bit of his length down your throat.
His size means it’s always a multi-stage process to get him all the way in your mouth, but sucking him off is worth it for his reactions alone. Your husband is very vocal about pretty much everything, be it tasty food or video games, but it’s something about the feeling of your hot mouth around his cock that gets him increasingly worked up, and today is no exception; he’s not even a third of the way buried in your mouth when he lets out a loud groan, shattering the otherwise perfect silence of the bedroom.
While you bob your head and drag the flat of your tongue along what’s in your mouth, one hand comes up to play with his balls, feeling the weight of each one in your hand. You blink up at him through wide eyes, and out of pleasure at the sight in front of him, his hips keen up and he fucks further into your mouth. You let out a cough at the unexpected intrusion, but stretch your mouth wider around him as best you can to accommodate him. The movement has saliva dripping out of the corner of your mouth and down his length, and tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your air supply is impacted.
“So perfect for me,” Seokjin says in awe, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair, and your heart twinges at the warmth in his eyes. “Look so good like this.” The saliva you’ve dripped out around him serves as lubricant for your hand to enclose around what’s left of him and give lazy tugs as the rest of him is stuffed in your throat. Idly, you think your hand looks tiny from where it struggles to close around the girth of him, and the sheer eroticism of the sight makes your pussy clench around nothing.
As spots dance in your vision, you pull off of his length just to give yourself time to breathe, sucking air in greedily as your hand keeps gliding up and down his length. Once you’ve caught your breath, you take in another gulp of air to prepare for the grand finale of taking his full length down your throat. This time, when your lips wrap around his cock, you barely have to pause to take all of him in, and it’s not long before your nose is nestled along the neatly trimmed hair at his base. By now you can barely see what’s going on in front of you, vision swimming with tears, but you blink the tears out of the way as best you can. After all, you don’t exactly need vision to do what you’re doing now, pretty much having committed the feel of him to memory by this point. You can hear the crisp sheets crinkling as Seokjin fists a hand into them in response to how good your mouth is working him.
When you withdraw a little to keep bobbing at his length, his hands draw back into your hair to guide the motion of your head, drawing a surprised moan out of you. With a single push to the back of your head, he sends you all the way down to the base of his cock, keeping you there for a moment until you’re gurgling around him and his length displaces all of the saliva in your mouth. The tears have long pushed past your cheeks now, but you don’t let them stop you from peering up at him lovingly. You relax your jaw and hum around his length, sliding your hand to his sack, now drawn up and practically ready to burst, to work him to his release as his hand settles idly at the back of your head, a heavy weight that threatens to send you back down at any moment.
“________, I’m close,” he whines in warning, hands entangled a little painfully in your hair now. You hum around him, and the grunt he lets out in response is low, so drawn out that it breaks at the end. You make no move to pull off of him, taking a deep breath in through your nose so as to get the oxygen you need to merely exist as you will your throat to clench around him one last time. That’s all it takes to send him over the edge, low groans erupting from his chest as he fills your throat with cum, and you keep your lips around him even as your mouth physically can’t keep everything in.
Once he begins to soften, slipping out of your mouth, you stick out your tongue for his view, making sure he’s seeing you swallow the remnants of his release, salty and earthy and undeniably him. His tired eyes watch in admiration. “So good to me, angel,” Seokjin murmurs, eyes still slightly dazed from the aftereffects of his orgasm.
You smile. “Told you I’d take care of you.” You toss a leg over top of him so that you’re seated on top of him now, leaning down to pepper his face with kisses. You plant a kiss to his lips now, slow and exploratory, taking time to open him up with your tongue and surprising him by suckling on his tongue. When you pull away, there’s a little strand of saliva that hangs between the two of you that gets disconnected as you lazily swoop back in for more. The combination of tastes on your lips is heady, undeniably Seokjin: the salt of the cum you’d just swallowed; the musky taste of his cock, and then the freshness of his toothpaste layered on top of the lip balm he always has on hand.
It doesn’t take much for him to get hard again. The thin layers of the pyjama pants and underwear you’re still wearing don’t do much to shield his hardening length from you, and you just can’t help yourself; you send your hips back with an experimental roll, eyes squeezing shut with how good his cock feels underneath you, all of its veins and ridges. You have to stop yourself from just rutting on your husband like a horny teenager, and when you snap your eyes open, he’s staring back up at you, pupils blown black.
You rise briefly to tug the offending layers off of you, spreading the wetness that’s now gathered at your entrance to make the stretch easier before you lower yourself down on him. You both groan as you watch yourself slowly but surely swallow up his length, your lower lips spreading to take the width of him in, gripping onto him tightly.
Although you’re more than wet enough to reduce the friction of the way down, Seokjin hadn’t prepared you to take his thick length, so the stretch is agonizing, even more so than usual, but it’s so delicious that it rips a loud moan out of your throat. “Stretching me so good, baby, feels amazing,” you murmur, pausing to adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. Your hands clumsily seek purchase on his chest as you wriggle on top of him, and he lets his head fall back in pleasure.
Recognizing how tired he is, you lazily push him down when he makes a move to grab at your waist to pull himself up and thrust into you from underneath in favour of continuing to leisurely ride him. You let your clit drag against his pelvic bone when you need extra stimulation, which also has the effect of making you clench around his cock. If your husband’s groans are any indication, he’s near his own end, but you can tell he’s not close enough for your liking. As you quicken the pace of your bounces astride him, you snake a hand down to his nipples, which you know are sensitive, and twist them in between your index and middle fingers for a bit.
“Making me feel so ff-good, honey, what did I do to deserve — shit — you?” he groans out. Now it’s your turn to preen under the weight of loving words, eyes trailing down his body before remembering what had gotten you into this position in the first place.
The damned necklace.
Suddenly, you move with an urgency you have no idea the source of. You take the pendant on the long chain from where it fell in between his pecs, flip it over to the side that hadn’t been in contact with his skin and, suddenly, drop it on his nipple, drawing out a gasp from him. The pendant is warm enough to not be a total temperature shock while still being cool enough to be able to surprise him.
“So sexy with your jewelry on, aren’t you? You promote all of this jewelry, but it’s such a shame,” you say, voice coated in feigned disappointment, and his eyes narrow when they meet yours, almost as if he knows what you're going to say next. "Such a shame that only I get to see you this way,” you say, possessiveness now creeping into your tone as your bounces on top of him grow more and more erratic. “So pretty, but only for me. Aren’t I so lucky?”
Your breathless words are turning you on even more somehow, in combination with his moans and the way he’s sloppily thrusting up at random to meet your hips as they swivel on top of him, letting the head of his cock practically kiss against your cervix with how deep it is. You feel your orgasm coming on more quickly than you’d anticipated.
“Mm, I’m lucky, too,” he groans, so low it’s almost a whisper. “Only one that gets to — ah —“ he’s interrupted by a particularly harsh clench of your walls around him — “have you like this.”
You lean down for a brief kiss. “Gonna try something,” you whisper. His tired eyes widen in surprise as you lift off of him completely, ignoring his furtive complaints and also your own release running away from you. Instead, you pull your husband over to lie on his side before slotting in on your side in front of him, grabbing his length and tapping it on your clit. You both let out a moan then, but this isn’t the only trick you have up your sleeve. Instead, you slot it in until he’s halfway sheathed inside of you, moaning as you can feel him even deeper in this position. The head of his cock feels like it’s right underneath your belly button, as if you could press down on your stomach and feel him inside of you; the thought alone is practically euphoric enough on its own. Instead, you slowly fuck yourself back on him, and blessedly, your husband gets the memo, lazily thrusting upwards.
“Remember you said you wanted to try cockwarming, honey?” You whisper. He lets out a guttural groan then, and you can tell that he’s so turned on by the mere prospect of it that he’s close to coming.
“Let’s try that today, baby. Want to take care of you,” you say, letting your hips circle around him.
“So perfect for me, my sweet girl, treating me so well. F-fuck, I love you,” he says, words trailing off at the end into incoherent babbles as you increase the speed of your ass bouncing back on him, going harder and harder, and dragging your agile fingers along your clit for your own benefit. He pushes his hands down on your lower stomach — just where it feels like the head of his cock is hammering into you — and that’s enough to send you over the edge. You clench down around him, hard, back snapping up off of where it had been supported by his own chest. He’s not far behind. The twitches of his length inside of you only precede the hot mouth closing around your neck and shoulders only by a few seconds as he comes inside of you.
“Keep it in, baby. Feels so fucking good, Jinnie, shit,” you groan. You can tell your husband is too fucked out to say anything back as the feeling of your walls around him gets to be too much, but you try your hardest to keep him in place, fighting your own overstimulation even as his length rapidly softens inside of you.
“Love you,” he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your back, shoulder, and neck.
Your eyes, suddenly, feel heavy. Some combination of the late hour, your strenuous activities, and the heat surrounding you pulls your eyelids down like gravity, all while your husband is still nestled inside of you.
When you awaken the next morning, satisfied both from your uninterrupted sleep and the events of the previous night, you realize that despite your best efforts to keep him inside, your husband's cock has slipped out of you, and wince at the soreness between your legs. Turning to admire your still-asleep husband as the beginnings of sunlight peek through the curtains onto his chest, you admire the the fruits of your hard work.
The white gold of his chains shimmers in the faint morning light, making them stand out even more against the blooming crimson love bites you’ve left on his pecs. You smile to yourself as the sight makes you think about the ways that other jewelry he wore would look over top of the art you’d so meticulously left on him, especially that thick, corded diamond cable necklace he’d worn a few times before somehow losing.
Who’d have thought jewelry could be quite so… multifaceted? Certainly not you, but you were more than happy to have been proven wrong.
Thanks for reading! This is the first fic that I’ve managed to finish within the same year of starting, which is a huge accomplishment for me since the other ones have been in various stages of development for 2-5 years. I promise that I tried to make this short - it was supposed to be blurbs!!, but I blacked out and got carried away and suddenly we got to 19 pages of pure smut. The sight of Seokjin dripped out in all of these expensive chains has a chokehold on me, clearly. And just know that if he ever gets a luxury watch sponsorship this fic will get a sequel so Rolex, Audemars Piguet, or Patek Phillipe if you’re out there (hopefully not reading this though) you know what to do.
I’m pretty sure Fred Jewelry would send me a cease and desist if they knew this fic existed but I hope you enjoyed! I’d love to know what you thought of this and/or any ideas for what to do next 😇❤️😘
your third tag... I'm so glad you picked up on that bc that really was the motivation behind the fic! like obviously the smut took centre stage but it really wouldn't have come to be without all of that jewelry haha i miss that thick fred diamond necklace that he lost/dropped in the japanese concerts so much... thank you so much for reading and liking ❤️
little update timeline: hoping to have my latest fic out sometime this week, but after that i'm going to be taking a little break from writing or future me is going to deeply hate herself for not doing her work 😔 i'll be getting back to my wips and the few requests i got in a few weeks once my schedule frees up more!
Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, smut, fluff
Rating: 18+/NSFW, minors DNI
Word count: 19k
Summary: Finding out on day 1 of your third-year genetics course that you’re going to have an assigned lab partner may just be your personal hell. Clearly someone is looking out for you, though, because you’re seemingly blessed with the perfect lab partner in Kim Seokjin. Maybe the lab aspect of the course isn’t going to be so bad this time after all.
Warnings: gratuitous swearing, some mentions of drinking, arguably an excessive use of pet names. Explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, dirty talk, slightly cocky and mean dom! jin, very slight degradation kink (there if you squint), praise kink, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, creampie, cum play, squirting.
Credits: Dividers from diviniyae. Header photo from here.
Do not repost/reupload this fic — this is my original work.
As an aspiring doctor, you’ve had to enrol in too many biology, anatomy, chemistry and physiology classes to count. Much to your dismay, each one of these requires a lab. The issue with this is not that you dislike doing practical work; far from it, actually.
In a lab, you’re in your element (no pun intended). Hands-on work that can potentially help other people is, honestly, kind of your calling. It’s what pushed you to pursue medicine in the first place. Under the fluorescent lights of the lab, working with chemicals, surrounded by little vials, microscopes and test tubes, you feel completely at home.
No, it’s not the lab work that’s the problem at all; it’s the assigned lab partners, and you always manage to get terrible ones.
In your first-year chemistry class, your assigned partner had been your best friend Seulgi. At the time, you’d both been completely excited to spend three hours together every week for the rest of the term, and while she’s a ray of sunshine you love to pieces, your best friend wasn't exactly the best partner to have in a chemistry lab.
You recalled too many instances where acid had been spilled on either your friend, you, or worse still, the results that you were supposed to use for the lab report due the next week. You’d both had some trouble explaining to your professor how the concentrated hydrochloric acid had eaten through the 10-page lab report. And that incident had just been the tip of the iceberg of mishaps that term.
The next year, your anatomy lab partner had been a classical try-hard pre-med gunner. While it had been nice at first to have someone equally as academically minded as you, especially after the last year’s mishaps with Seulgi, it had gotten old fast. During your first lab, your partner hadn’t even let you touch any of the equipment because he’d been so anal about making sure the experiment went perfectly, yet you still got docked marks on the lab reports you submitted — that your partner had erased all of your contributions from, mind you. In the next lab, he’d thrown a fit about how his chances to get into medical school were ruined because he’d gotten a 95.5 instead of a 100 on the pre-lab quiz, and he’d blabbered on and on for so long that you had yelled at him to shut up and stop bothering you for the rest of the term. The mere memory of that lab still triggered migraines in your skull.
Safe to say you’d had more than enough terrible lab partners for one lifetime. And you’re not even through with your degree yet, much less medical school.
“This cannot be happening,” you groan, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re sat in front of your TV, laptop on your lap with your roommate perched beside you on the sofa. The TA has just emailed the class before class officially starts next week. Attached to the snooty email is the syllabus with the phrase ‘lab partners have been assigned and will be announced in class’ bolded at the top, as if to mock you.
Seulgi knows you have a flair for the dramatic, so she doesn’t pay much attention to your outburst. “What now, _____?” she asks absentmindedly, finger tapping the remote as the television screen flashes between every movie on Netflix.
“The genetics class has assigned lab partners. We’re in our third year, do they really think they need to baby us and assign us partners? Why can’t I just be my own partner? What if I get someone fucking terrible, or worse yet, some try-hard pre-med gunner?” you ramble, cradling your head in your hands.
Perhaps you’re being dramatic, but you don’t think you are. It’s a valid crashout for someone in your circumstances, you think.
Seulgi just chuckles beside you, no doubt remembering the numerous mishaps the two of you had had as lab partners. Her arm comes up to offer you a reassuring pat on the head.
“Glad you’re not overreacting, _____,” she says, sarcastic as ever. "Who knows, maybe you’ll luck out this time and get the best lab partner ever. Plus, like you said, it’s third year; everyone incompetent switched out of the premed classes by now.” She reaches the arm that was on your head to your back, patting a little as if to alleviate your stress.
“Hey, if you’re still worrying, I’ll order us some pizza,” Seulgi says, smiling warmly. She knows that, at the mention of pizza, your worries will evaporate even if only temporarily, and she’d be right.
D-day.
Finally, the first day of your genetics course has arrived. When you’d signed up, you had been pretty excited to learn more about genetics. Since learning last week that the course had assigned lab partners, though, you’ve been filled with dread and already can’t wait to get the course over with.
You figure you should turn over a new leaf and be optimistic, at least try and put your best face forward before the worst happens. New year, new you, right?
Once you get to the lecture hall, no one is there save for you and a few of the girls you recognize from other classes. One sends you a warm wave, which you return with a smile as you scope out where you’d like to sit. You choose a seat near the front of the hall, several rows back from the projector screen. Blessedly, only one other person is in your general area. You steal a glance; it's a figure with a very regal side profile — a high, straight nose, full lips, and ruffled jet-black hair, one that you don’t recognize.
A few minutes later, the lecture hall looks much less empty, though it’s by no means full, and you can see a few familiar faces. Your row still remains empty save for you and the good-looking stranger, as the rest of your classmates have opted to settle in the back or at the sides of the large hall.
The main doors open, signalling the arrival of the professor. She settles her expensive purse down and connects her expensive laptop to the projector.
“Welcome to Concepts of Genetics! I’m Dr. Jung.” The professor, a pretty, petite young woman, commands everyone’s attention, speaking in a clear voice as the surrounding conversations dwindle down suddenly.
“Yes, I know, I’m young.” The professor pauses to smile as your classmates chuckle. “I graduated a few years ago, so I actually studied from this textbook myself.” She clicks to open her slides, and the first one outlines course expectations.
“This class is a little different than the other genetics classes that are offered at this university. We will not be having any quizzes, nor will we be having tests,” pauses Dr. Jung. A few students let out giggles and cheers at this, and the professor looks like the cat that ate the canary.
“Instead, we really emphasize the practical component of learning in this course. We will be having several important labs, accompanied by lab reports of course, that will combine to form the 75% of your grade originally occupied by quizzes and tests. And, of course, your final exam will form the rest of the course assessments.” The grin on her face grows in size, and your eyes roll so far back into your head you swore you had just seen the white matter of your brain.
Several labs…several lab reports…assigned lab partners…75% of your grade.
God, was it too late to drop the course?
“I fucking hate the practical component of learning,” you grumble quietly enough that you hope no one hears.
“I know you’re all dying to know your lab partners, but you’ll have to wait till the end of the slides. There’s some other information that you’ll want to know first.”
It’s as if Dr. Jung has read your mind. You want her to rip off the Band-Aid, but you also want to live in your undisturbed bubble a little while longer. She clicks to the next slide, and you space out a little bit, looking without focussing. You listen to her pleasant voice outline the rest of her expectations for the term and the subjects that she will be covering. She introduces the TAs, a diverse group of upper-year students you vaguely recognize. Before long, the professor reaches the end of her presentation.
“Here are your partners for the rest of the semester — I suggest exchanging contact information, because you’ll be seeing a lot of one another for the rest of the term. See you next week.” Dr. Jung begins to pack up her belongings, leaving the slide up on the projector. Your eyes flit down the list until you find your name hidden somewhere in the middle of the list where you would have missed it had you not been so hawk-eyed.
_____ and Kim Seokjin
Even though the size of your program had dwindled significantly since first year, when the wave of people who had come in wanting to be doctors had either realized that their aspirations actually lay elsewhere or had flunked out of the pre-med program, there were still a few names that you didn’t recognize. Your lab partner seemed to be one of them.
Huh.
You give the room a scan, trying to filter out people you don’t know by the process of elimination but to no avail. Your eyes somehow gloss completely over the stranger at the end of your row, and if you'd undertaken any less frenzied of a search, you'd have caught on to the pair of brown eyes peering over at you curiously from the end of the row.
“So, _____, how bad was it? The partner’s not as bad as me, right?” asks Seulgi, mumbling over the forkful of penne that’s currently in her mouth.
You’re gathered for dinner in a cozy, red tablecloth-covered booth at Seulgi’s girlfriend Joohyun’s favourite restaurant, which she swears up and down makes the best pasta in the whole city. No one’s willing to challenge her on this one, because the linguine you’re currently enjoying is heavenly. Seulgi had taken the liberty of filling Joohyun in as well, so everyone at the table knows what’s going on.
“Who’d you get?” asks your best friend. You take the time to swallow the delicious forkful in your own mouth before answering.
“Uhhh, Kim Seokjin? I don’t know him, so.”
Joohyun puts her fork down at this and peers over at you with disbelief, round eyes seemingly becoming even rounder.
“Wait, how do you not know Seokjin? He was in my organic chemistry class last year. You know, the one everyone practically failed?”
You nod, unsure as to where she’s going with this. Is she going to say Seokjin flunked the class too? Just your luck to be stuck with a terrible partner, you think. Your heart drops out of your ass. You’d have to speak with Dr. Jung and beg for a switch now.
“Seokjin ended with a 98," — Joohyun pauses and you implore her to continue — “and that was before the prof curved everyone’s grade up. Everyone wanted to work with him, and he was a really nice guy,” she finishes. “Not hard to look at either.” That last comment earns her a jab in the ribs from Seulgi.
Your heart finally rests and you heave out a long sigh of relief. Joohyun has notoriously high standards, so if she’s singing his praises, he must not be so bad after all. You pick up your wine glass so fast the dark liquid almost sloshes over the sides, and down what’s left of the drink in one sitting.
“Thank you God! I promise I’ll pray more often now,” you cry out to no one in particular. Your waiter gives you a weird look, but realizes that he may not get a tip if he keeps staring, so he quickly turns away. Seulgi hides herself behind her napkin and Joohyun’s wide eyes have squeezed shut as her chest heaves with laughs.
“Your meal’s on me today,” you proclaim, leaning over the table to give her a big kiss on the cheek as she keeps laughing. Seulgi squawks at that.
“What am I, chopped liver?” she asks with mock indignation.
Begrudgingly, you wave the waiter over and ask for the bill. The price of three meals hurts your broke student bank account a little, but it raises your spirits even more to know your lab partner isn’t a total fool.
Maybe this course wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Syllabus week passes by quicker than you’d like, the days full of visits to new classes and getting to know new professors and the nights filled with parties to kick off the beginning of a new school year. Though you’d prefer to stay in your warm bed, getting the most sleep you can before school kicked your ass, Seulgi lures you out, claiming that this is the only week of the year that you can afford to spend partying, and she’s right; your workload for the semester looks treacherous. Her reasoning, and the allure of free booze, are more than enough to get you up and ready.
Sooner than you’d hoped, Tuesday and your 11 AM genetics lecture roll around. The lecture hall is buzzing with conversation. This time, your classmates are more evenly dispersed, with the seats in the front and middle of the hall being more populated than they had been the first lecture. You gravitate towards the front wing area that you had chosen last week, and you’re surprised to see that the guy at the end of the row from last time has once again taken up his position.
As Dr. Jung starts her first lecture, you find yourself sneaking brief glances at End-of-Row Guy, as you’d cleverly nicknamed him. His elegant side profile tempts you one too many times as you take quick glances at him when your professor stalls in her speech. The lecture itself is rather uneventful, going over topics you were already familiar with, so you find yourself spacing out, dozing off a little. Even that gets boring after a while, so you relegate yourself to looking around the room.
This time, you feel the eyes curiously peering in your direction from the end of the row, and you cautiously meet their gaze. Warm, almond-shaped brown eyes blink owlishly at you, and you’re met with a shy smile on a too-good-looking face. You flush, sending over a quick grin yourself, before pretending to immerse yourself in taking notes.
Who was that and why was he so cute?
When the professor takes a break, End-of-Row Guy bolts up, easily gliding through the row to make it to you.
You note he’s definitely easy on the eyes: a high, straight nose, ruffled black hair, and the puffiest lips you’ve ever seen. And with a sexy body to match — a thick neck, broad shoulders tapering into a small waist, and long, long legs encased by today’s choice of dark wash jeans.
“Are you _____? I’m Seokjin. We’re lab partners, yeah?” He interrupts, bringing you out of your reverie. Hopefully you hadn’t been too obvious with the way you’d checked him out.
“Yes, that’s me! Funny, I was trying to look for you too,” you smile easily. “I didn’t recognize your name on the list when the prof put it up.”
“I did some LinkedIn stalking to figure out what you looked like,” he admits unabashedly, and you laugh aloud at his boldness.
“Not that I don’t engage in the hallowed practice of LinkedIn stalking myself, but I’m typically not so… forthcoming with that information to people I’ve just met,” you chide with a raised eyebrow, and he grins.
“Hey, the stalking was necessary, I don’t know anyone in this class! I actually just switched majors; I was a chemistry major, but I just switched to microbiology this year. You can see why I had to do it,” he sputters trying to justify himself, talking faster and faster as he goes on, but the damage has already been done, and you keep snickering.
“Okay, LinkedIn stalker. That’s a little embarrassing to admit to, I won’t lie,” you keep laughing, and he’s flushed red now.
He’s cute when he’s embarrassed, you think.
He recovers to accomplish the purpose he set out to talk to you for. “Should probably exchange numbers so we can do the pre-lab work together,” he suggests, moving to pull his phone out from his back pocket. You have just enough time to save yourself as a contact and send yourself a text on his phone before Dr. Jung returns to the podium and clears her throat to resume her lecture.
“We’ll talk later,” you whisper with a smile as you pass his phone back over to him. He sends a smile your way before making his way back to the end of the aisle, and if it made a strange feeling blossom in your heart, well, no one else would have to know.
Your first lab requires you to separate a certain DNA sequence from a contaminated sample, then use gel technology to determine the identity of the extracted sample. It’s not the most fun of labs; it requires a lot of sitting around and waiting for steps to be complete so you can move on, but it’s not a difficult lab either. It’s something easy to start the year off with, you think. You take a seat at your assigned lab bench and wait for your partner to show up as more and more of your classmates file in.
Today was where your evaluation of your lab partner would begin, which would in turn dictate the way the rest of your semester would go. Sure, Seokjin had been nice in person, not to mention more than nice to look at, but anyone could be nice (although perhaps not anyone could be as nice to look at; in fact, you doubted anyone was as nice to look at as him). It would be something entirely different if he was actually a competent lab partner. Although Joohyun had vouched for Seokjin, you still felt like you needed to make your own determinations about him.
You make the tactical decision to take the lead on extracting the DNA using PCR for the given DNA samples. It was the most crucial part of the experiment, and if it were to be screwed up, you’d have no results at all for the gel portion. Delegating the gel segment to your lab partner would be a good way to set the tone for the rest of the lab experiments, showing you his competence (or lack thereof) in the lab.
Scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, you look up when you sense someone has approached you, and probably unsurprisingly it ends up being your lab partner. It’s your first time seeing him in glasses today, which make him look even more endearing than when you’d first spoken to him the previous week. The clinical white of the mandatory lab coat makes the remnants of his summer tan glow on his skin, and it’s kind of unfair that someone can actually look good in the oversized garment, but he’s somehow making it work.
You exchange perfunctory greetings, and you notice belatedly that you’ve spread out all of your materials for the lab across the bench so that he doesn’t have any space to place his own belongings. Hurriedly, you begin shifting your stuff around enough so that he has space to sit. As if it’s nothing, he places a cool hand over yours to stop your motions, and you jump a bit at his readiness to touch you. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“Don’t worry, I have more than enough space,” he grins easily. “We only need 1 set of protocols, and I’ve memorized them, so I don’t even need to take mine out anyway.”
“Okay, show-off. Way to make the rest of us look bad,” you say dryly, although you’re privately impressed he bothered to memorize the protocols for the first lab of the year when you wouldn’t even have bothered.
He reddens. “First I was a LinkedIn stalker and now I’m a show-off. Pretty good first impressions on my end.” You bleat out a laugh at that, shaking your head lightly as you idly flip through your lab notebook in preparation for the day’s experiment.
As the rest of your classmates file in and the TA for the lab begins describing the procedure for today’s experiment, you feel a pair of eyes boring into your side. Sneaking a peek to your left, you meet Seokjin’s curious gaze and he looks away just as quickly as you do. If you’d looked any closer at him, you would have seen the tips of his ears flush a crimson red.
The TAs send you off to complete the lab, and you manage to put aside what had just happened in favour of your grade in this important course. You also remember that this is the lab where you’ll be assessing Seokjin’s capacities as a lab partner, and if he was a show-off who also sucked, you’d have to begin brainstorming ways to gently tell him you’d be in charge of all of the lab work for the rest of the semester. You hoped it didn’t get to that point, because you had more than enough work to do already without also doing his share of the work.
“Okay, so we need to first extract the DNA by running PCR on them, get the PCRs on the gel, and then run gel electrophoresis,” he starts as if he hadn’t just been caught staring right at you mere moments ago.
“I can handle the PCR part, if that’s good with you. Can you load the plates and run the gel?” you ask lightly. It’s a strategic decision - loading the gel is a simple enough task, but if it’s executed improperly, all of your hard work in the DNA extraction phase will be rendered meaningless.
“What do you take me for?” he replies, and you can’t tell if he’s really offended or if he’s just joking. “Yes, _____, I can do the gels. You can do the PCR for the samples.” You heave a sigh of relief, but oddly, you feel a twinge of guilt if you’ve hurt him.
You quickly busy yourself with running through the DNA extraction component of the experiment. Unlike Seokjin, you hadn’t memorized the protocols, so it takes you a little longer than you’d like because you have to keep referring back to the notes.
“You don’t need to check so much,” he murmurs, quietly so as to not distract you. “You already know what to do, and I’m here anyway. Just ask me if you need help,” he mumbles, warm gaze boring into yours from under his lab goggles. His offer doesn’t sound condescending but instead fully genuine, a stark departure from how toxic pre-med students can be.
You flush. “Just want to make sure we’re doing it right. I’ve had shitty lab partners before and I don’t want to be one now.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t be a shitty lab partner, and even if you were, it wouldn’t matter at all. Besides, from what I can tell, you’re quite good at this,” he notes, watching you pipette up a minute amount of sample and drop it back down in the appropriate test tube. The kind words he’s laving you with take you by surprise, and you can feel your cheeks warming a little bit. You hope your hand didn’t shake at that because it’d really fuck up the experiment then.
Once you’ve completed your portion of the experiment, you bring back the test tubes with the DNA samples to your lab bench so Seokjin can begin loading the gel plate. His specs are high on his nose, elbow anchored securely on the table with one hand on the tip of the micropipette as he disperses the solution into the small gel plate. You try not to stare, but his total focus is… kind of hot. An audible gulp sounds, but he either doesn’t notice or just pretends not to for your sake. Either way, you’re grateful.
“See, told you I could load the gels,” he smirks. You grin back, any worry of him being offended dissipating.
“I can see that,” you marvel, admiring his handiwork. Every column is loaded perfectly, none of the dye leaking out into the gel. You would never admit it, but it may just be a better job than you would have done.
“So now we just have to run the gel; the hard parts are done now,” he says, not even bothering to open up his notes as you likely would have. You nod, confirming it with a glance at your own notes.
As you turn on the machine and wait for the DNA samples to begin travelling down the gel to reveal the identity of your extracted sample, you clear your throat softly. After all, you don’t know much about your lab partner, so you decide to get to know him a little better.
“So, I don’t suppose you’re taking this course just for fun, right?” You know the answer; genetics are a tricky enough topic for those who plan to pursue a career in the sciences, much less those who have no science background whatsoever and who are just taking the course to fulfill degree requirements.
He grins briefly. “No, genes aren’t quite my idea of fun, I guess you could say. I’ve always wanted to be a paediatrician, and this is a required pre-med course,” he smiles, looking right at you. “I used to volunteer at my doctor’s office, and honestly I like working with kids. Helping them is just so rewarding, you know?”
You swear you see his eyes sparkle as he goes on, lost in thought. You know there’s way you can match up to that, so you decide to try your hand at one of the things you’re known for: elaborate trolling.
“So did I, actually! Love helping people and all that stuff.” You can see him raise an eyebrow at that, but you keep on going. “Then I watched a bunch of Grey’s Anatomy and I was kinda drawn to plastic surgery? Reconstructive plastic surgery, to be specific. I like Botched, but not enough to do fake boobs for the rest of my life, ya know?” you deadpan, watching the expression on his face change as he tries, and fails miserably, to hold back laughter.
It’s a cute look on him, as everything seems to be.
You might actually be doomed.
Seokjin lets out a hiccupy laugh, obviously expecting you to deliver some punchline, but you don’t relent. “Have you seen Mark Sloan? Or Jackson Avery? Those two could make anyone want to do skin grafts.”
It finally dawns on him that you’re delivering some kind of extended trolling performance and he joins in. “I was always more of a McDreamy guy myself, but I see the appeal,” he grins, thousand-kilowatt smile making a triumphant return to his face.
“…Wait, you’re not serious, right?”
“No, I’m just kidding. I’m kind of thinking about becoming a pathologist, to be honest. I’m too squeamish for anything surgery-related, and I like microbiology, so it seems like a good fit, I think.” Your shoulder nudges his unintentionally, and you stiffen. Seokjin clearly thinks nothing of it, however, and lets out a snicker, making you flush a little with warmth.
“I get it. Not even McDreamy could make me want to do skin grafts for the rest of my life,” he says with a shudder.
You laugh easily. “You get it.”
It’s then that you walk over to the station where your gel has been set up and look at the results. Seokjin’s perfect loading of the gels, as well as your accurate extraction of the DNA, have given you the perfect results and allowed you to correctly characterize the sample. Even the TA is impressed at how cleanly your gel has shown up.
“You two make a good team,” offhandedly notes the young TA as she scribbles down your grade on the report at the end of the lab. A 98. Unsurprising, although if it had been up to you, you’d have given yourself the extra 2 points. You supposed she’d left you both with some room to improve through the semester.
Seokjin smiles, looking genuinely proud of himself. “I’m not such a shabby lab partner after all, I guess,” he preens, and you can only agree.
“Yeah, not bad for someone who just switched to this major yesterday,” you tease, grinning broadly and nudging his elbow.
You let yourself hope this will be the year your shitty lab partner luck will turn around.
After your last lab of the semester, where you’d been tasked with visualizing the activity of particular cells in a bacterial colony using fluorescent proteins, you and your lab partner decide it’s worth heading to a study room to turn in the semester’s final lab report due later that evening.
Unsurprisingly, the pre-lab quiz had gotten you both perfect scores, and now the only thing standing in your (and Seokjin)’s way of finishing the genetics course was completing the lab report.
“I’ll really miss these labs,” you sigh wistfully, watching your screen idly as Seokjin fills in his observations on the shared document. “Couldn’t think of a better way to spend my Wednesday afternoons.”
Across from you, he laughs. “Aw, I’m flattered. You liked my company that much, _____?”, he teases.
He might be right, but you can’t let him get away with it. “I don’t even think your company was top 5 reasons to enjoy the lab,” comes your dry response without even missing a beat, and he snickers into his palm. “I was mainly thinking of the ego boost I’d get every time I saw that 100 on our lab quizzes and reports.”
“I guess that part wasn’t too bad either,” he concedes.
“You know, I’m feeling charitable today. Why don’t we say you were the 6th reason I enjoyed the lab,” you giggle.
He guffaws. “I still think I was #1, but I guess I’ll take a top 10 finish.”
“You know, when I first heard we would be getting assigned lab partners for this class, I had such a bad feeling my lab partner would be terrible and tank my grade. I told you about my trash luck with partners, right?” You don’t even get through your sentence before Seokjin’s eyes start burning a hole through you from the other side of the table.
“I’ll actually flip this table over right now,” he threatens, though his words lack even an ounce of intent. “Apologize to me,” he guffaws out in feigned outrage, face reddening as he starts off on one of his famous tirades. “Is that why you made me do the gels in our first lab?” He sputters. “Because you thought I’d screw up your grade?”
You nod shyly. When he phrases it that way, it sounds ridiculous, but you stand by your logic. “Okay, I admit it wasn’t my finest moment, but you have to hear me out. My partners before were so bad I had no faith I’d ever get a good one, but I admit I was wrong!” you defend yourself.
“Wow, I’m offended, _____. I’m so much more than a pretty face. I have a sexy brain too,” he says, making a big show of pouting and slumping his shoulders down in mock sadness.
“I know, I know,” you get out, your shoulders shaking with laughter at his animated reaction. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you, Jinnie. That’s fully on me.”
“Jinnie?” He laughs. “Where’d that come from?”
“Wait, sorry. Do you hate that nickname?"
“Of course not, just wasn’t expecting to hear it. I got called that as a kid, but people mainly just use Jin now.”
“I like Jinnie,” you muse, not expecting him to press you on it any further. “It’s a cute nickname, I think,” you grin innocently, zoning out a little and looking at him for a bit longer than you might otherwise. You catch yourself and return to focusing on your keyboard to see if you can find your train of thought about the implications of why the protein may not have been visible during the lab.
He studies you closely, not in the secret ways you’d sometimes catch him doing in lecture or in the lab when you didn’t notice, but this time openly, unabashedly. Suddenly, you grow a little shy, eyes snapping back to where your cursor blinks on your screen. It seems like he’s about to say something to you when the timer you’d set goes off, reminding you you only have an hour left to submit the lab report.
You heave out a sigh, looking at your screen to realize your section of the analysis remains blank. “I should probably finish this before we have to take the late penalty and I end up being the fuck-up lab partner,” you joke self-deprecatingly, fingers banging out what you hope are intelligible sentences in the limited time you have left. Unbeknownst to you, the question Seokjin had been building himself up to ask throughout the whole semester died on his tongue again, and he let out a quiet exhale himself.
Your banter dies down as you focus on finishing up the analysis, Seokjin following along on the doc to add in or edit when needed. Your alarm rings again insistently at the 5-minute mark, and after giving the report a quick skim, Seokjin’s thumbs-up tells you you’re good to submit it. The timestamp on your class site reads 6:58 PM when you submit the assignment, and you slam your laptop lid shut with a triumphant push.
“Dinner’s on me, let’s celebrate some labs well done,” you grin broadly. You figure it’s also probably the least you could do after hurting Seokjin’s ego a little bit with the whole ‘I thought you’d be a terrible lab partner’ thing.
“Perfect. May I introduce you to my favourite fine-dining establishment?” he says with an exaggerated bow, pausing to open the door of the library cafeteria for you.
“Truly opening my eyes to the finer things, are we,” you say dryly. “I suppose the Subway here earned a spot on this year’s Michelin list?”
He nods sagely. “I heard Anthony Bourdain himself used to order the meatball marinara on Italian bread.” That’s exactly what you end up picking up for the both of you.
The cafeteria is abuzz with other students who’d no doubt been holed up in the library all day, and it’s a bit of a struggle to find an empty table. Blessedly, there’s a clean spot right in front of the Subway, which you’re thankful for. Any longer without food and you risked going hangry, a side of you that you aren’t sure Seokjin is prepared to see.
Early December means that it’s pitch black outside despite it being a very respectable 7 o’clock in the evening, leaving you with little light to guide your path back to your apartment. Seokjin notices you looking pensively out the window, watching as one of the lone street lights on the path away from campus flickers inconsistently.
“You said you’re in the off-campus apartments, yeah? I can give you a ride home,” he says, getting up to toss the remnants of your dinners in the trash, and you follow along.
You want to be polite and not accept his offer so as to not inconvenience him, but you can’t say you’re particularly excited about the prospect of starting your trek home in the biting cold along the poorly lit path, so you gratefully accept. “Thanks, Jinnie.” He hums noncommittally, beginning the walk to the parking lot where his car has been sitting since your lab earlier, and you follow along, matching your pace to his.
“Have you started studying for the exam?” you ask as he unlocks the car door.
He snorts. “Fuck no. I have the biostatistics and physical chemistry exams first, so I have to figure out what’s going on in those two classes before I even think of preparing for this one. And this one is only worth 25%, so I kind of don’t care that much. Have you started?”
Your eyes widen, concerned. “Of course I have! I’m so stressed because there’s a shit ton of content to cover. You sure you can get it done in a week?”
He smirks. “Don’t worry about me, I study pretty fast. I’m sure I can figure it out.”
You settle into a comfortable silence, and sooner than you’d expected, Seokjin is pulling into the driveway of your apartment.
“Well, this is me,” you joke, undoing your seatbelt and reaching for the door handle. “Good luck on the exam next week, in case I don’t see you before then!”
As you’re about to swing the door open and leave, Seokjin unexpectedly pulls you in for a hug, which is a little awkward on his part because he’s being partially restrained by his seatbelt. While the you from the beginning of the semester might have frozen at the sudden contact, getting to know Seokjin over the past 3 months has shown you physical contact is nothing serious for him, although it doesn’t stop your traitorous heart from thumping in your chest. “Good luck and thanks for a good semester, _____” he says, pulling away after a brief moment.
“You’re welcome for carrying you,” you tease as you shut the car door.
“Yeah, yeah. See you next week.” He waits until you’re in the apartment lobby and drives off after you send him a timid wave.
You each hope the final exam isn’t the last you’ll see of one another.
Scrolling through your phone aimlessly, you try to distract yourself from the mountain of material that you’ve yet to study, but a feeling of such dread sets in that you can’t even enjoy your creeping on Instagram. It seemed like just yesterday that you’d anxiously awaited the start of a new semester, but you’d already spent the whole semester learning about genetics, and it was already time for the exam.
Your desk is usually where you study, but since you’ve dumped all of your material for other classes on it and Seulgi has restricted you from doing the same thing to the dinner table, you’re forced to relegate yourself to your slightly too-small, yet cozy nonetheless, bed. You’re surrounded by diagrams of genes, your clunky textbook, and notes. Hell, even your lab reports are open on your bed in case Dr. Jung’s exam has any questions about the practical work you’ve done so far.
You’re about to turn off your phone and stick it in a drawer for the evening when you’re rudely interrupted by a text.
Are u at the library? — Jinnie, 4:03 pm
nah, at home — you, seen 4:05 pm
On my way! — Jinnie, 4:10 pm
you aren’t invited?? — you, seen 4:11 pm
About 30 minutes later, as you’re about to settle in for one last study session before you give up, you hear three successive raps on your apartment door. Now, if there’s something you absolutely hated, it’s being interrupted just when you’re getting comfortable. Seething, you stomp out of bed, not even bothering to throw a sweater on over your pyjama set, and throw your door open — whoever this is, they’re really going to get it from you, and if it’s Seulgi she’ll never hear the end of it. The person at your door isn’t who you expect to see, though.
“Seokjin?”
He stands in front of you and you still can’t understand how he looks so damn good all of the time. Objectively, what he's wearing isn’t even that special — just an oversized peacoat that lazily hangs off of his broad shoulders, making him look even larger than he already is, and a pair of tight jeans that cover his muscle-bound thighs — yet he looks as good as you’ve ever seen him. You hope your mouth hasn’t fallen open. It probably has, because the man in front of you is grinning widely.
He cackles as he takes in your selection of outfit. “Nice pyjamas,, _____” and the way he takes you in (which you swear is a little… hungry?) kind of makes you wish you were wearing something other than an old, ratty set with cats and hearts printed on it.
Your cheeks flush and you cross your arms over your chest. “I thought I specifically said you’re not invited, Kim,” but there’s no malice behind your words, not really. He ignores your words, brushing past you to come in.
“How about one last study session before the exam? Hope you don’t mind me crashing, I brought snacks,” Seokjin smiles, brandishing a plastic bag full of the aforementioned goodies.
If your mouth wasn’t open already, it definitely was now. Snacks are truly the way to your heart, not that Seokjin really needed another way there; he’d pretty much wormed his way in there already.
“How could I say no to snacks…I mean, to my favourite lab partner?” you hastily add on as the man in question gives you a fake-offended pout. “Come in.” You lead him to your study space (your bedroom) and he sets the snack bag on your overflowing table. You take the opportunity to dive right into the bag, popping open a can of barbecue Pringles and very elegantly shoving a stack into your mouth.
“Wow, so this is where the _____ does all her studying? Maybe I’ll absorb some of her greatness here,” Seokjin teases as he looks around your room, carefully hanging his peacoat up on your door to reveal a fitted white sweater underneath.
You try not to stare at the way it hugs his waist or at its slightly cropped length, and you try especially hard not to wonder what might be underneath that sweater, but the latter is an uphill battle. You shake your head and chuckle under your breath.
“Sorry it’s super cramped, but I dumped all my shit on the table and the floor is not comfortable, so we’re stuck on the bed.” Your lab partner shrugs in indifference as he plops his large frame on your bed. Amazingly enough, he does this without jostling any of your careful setup.
The first few hours pass by uneventfully, with the two of you bouncing potential exam questions off of each other and discussing topics you didn’t quite understand in lectures. Seokjin singlehandedly demolishes three of the packs of gummies he’d supposedly brought for you both to share.
“Who do you think will finish with a better mark in this course?” Jin asks offhandedly. “Me or you?”
“Oh, easily me,” you tease. “Didn’t you just start studying like, a few days ago?”
He narrows his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
The bickering eventually settles into amicable silence as the two of you go off into your own worlds, cramming the remainder of the information into your brains.
“I’m gonna take a little break for now,” suddenly announces the man to your right, stretching one long arm out. A quick glance at his notes reveals that he’s nowhere near finished; you finished the chapter he’s reading on dihybrid crosses an hour ago and he still has more than a quarter of the material left. But if you know one thing about Seokjin, it’s that the man can fit an inane amount of things into his brain in the shortest amount of time — he’d told you he used to memorize the lab protocols the morning of the experiments. “Maybe I’ll take a nap?”
You debate convincing him not to, but decide that it’s useless, too focused on your own pursuit of the material. With that, he proceeds to slide down the bed to where he can lay his head near your lap and shuts his eyes. His broad shoulders are taking up half the space on your already-cramped bed. One arm is stretched out behind him, barely grazing your waist, and the other is supporting his head. You roll your eyes, thinking nothing more of it — after all, your lab partner has been touchy since your first lab together — and resume your readings on Mendel’s theory of inheritance.
Just as you’ve gotten to a subheading on Punnett squares, Seokjin turns to make himself more comfortable, and in the process, his head lands on your lap as he turns towards your stomach. His movement has the domino effect of slightly pulling your shirt down so that its fabric lightly scrapes down your suddenly very sensitive breasts. It was unintentional, you’re sure, but your sex drive doesn’t know that and probably doesn’t care either. Must be ovulating, you conclude. With this, you feel your nipples hardening against the fabric of your pyjama shirt, and rue your decision to not wear a bra.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you in,” you grumble to yourself. “You’re not even being helpful! You’re also very heavy and I already went to the gym this week.” You hope he hears and gets up. Instead, he feigns sleep, his hot breath warming your body.
After what seems like a decade of somehow managing to study even while Seokjin is in this rather precarious position, you shut the textbook you’ve been reading and look for the copies of Dr. Jung’s slides on your bed. Once you’ve searched through everything on the bed, you remember that your slides are neatly packed away in your backpack… in the main room. Careful not to disturb your lab partner, who’s somehow deeply asleep, you gently wiggle out from under him and grab a pillow so his neck won't ache from sleeping on a flat surface. One of Seokjin’s hands, the one that was at your waist, tenses a little, as if he’s trying to keep you in place. His grab is so weak that you chalk it up to subconscious movement, and continue to shuffle awkwardly off the bed. You manage and, miraculously, Seokjin stays asleep, even though his calves are hanging off of your slightly-too-small bed.
You groggily turn the main room’s lights on and grab your backpack, pausing to check the time on the wall clock. Seulgi’s door is shut; she’d crashed early, knowing her.
The clock in your living room flashes red, announcing it’s 10:09 PM. You realize Seokjin’s been here for 6 hours and hasn’t done half of his readings, so you figure you should wake him up. You know, be a good friend.
Backpack in hand, you return to your bed. He’s still asleep, and the fucker has taken advantage of your absence to starfish, taking up all of the space on your bed now. You’re forced to gently lift up his head and place it back on your lap so that you can fit on the bed. Once again, he begins to stir, and this time you decide you should wake him up. You gingerly place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly until his eyelids flutter open.
“Seokjin, it’s like 10 o’clock. Finish your readings and leave.” He lets out a groan, which is a little too close-sounding to a moan for you to be totally comfortable. He doesn’t make any motion to get up, though. He stays right where he is, head a little too close to your braless chest for your comfort.
“D’you have the slides?” he asks, voice still groggy from his brief nap — and why your traitorous brain immediately goes to thinking of if he would sound like this after waking up in the morning, potentially after a long night of ...particular activities, you don’t know — and motions to your stack of papers.
You nod, and he pulls your hands down to rest at your hips so that he can get a good view of the papers without giving up his comfortable spot. It’s almost comical how you both read at the same speed; once you’ve finished reviewing one page, he nudges you to switch pages too.
It is, admittedly, dry content; there’s only so much information about pea plants and plastic phenotypes that you can coax your brain into retaining, and before long Seokjin starts complaining.
“I’m bored, _____,” he whines, sounding more like a preschooler than a university student.
“Mendel didn’t make these observations for you to be enraptured by his art, Seokjin. Read it or weep on the exam.”
“I know you’re not an English major but it’s read it and weep.” He laughs, shaking your chest slightly with his incessant, breathy laugh.
He looks up to your face to see if you’ve found it as funny as he obviously did (okay, it was kinda funny), but you don’t give him the satisfaction, leaving your expression blank. As he brings his eyes back down, you know he catches the slight motion of your breasts, but you pretend not to notice.
You discreetly try and check if your nipples are still hard against your shirt. Much to your chagrin, they seem to have gotten even more prominent than when you had last checked, due in part to your foray away from the warm confines of your bedroom to get your backpack. You fix your attention back to the readings, hoping that the uninteresting content will make them shrink away and push you further away from potential embarrassment.
You’re not very discreet, obviously, because Seokjin suddenly jolts from where he’s still perched on your lap, which brings the neckline of your top down further until more of your chest is exposed to the cool air. The once cool air suddenly becomes thick when you notice the way Seokjin’s looking at you; hungry, dark, vacant. You’re still decent, of course, if a bit dishevelled. Your heart thuds a little, not knowing what he’ll do next.
“Keep reading, _____. I already told you, I’m bored. Plus, you need a lot more practice than I do for this exam. You know, since you’re trying to be first in the class.”
You gasp, offended, nearly forgetting about the hunger in his eyes as he’d taken you in. “How do I need more practice than you? I’m literally almost done reviewing. You have, like, half the material left to review,” you point out, gesturing towards the split in his binder as it rests face-down on the bed.
He lets out a small noise as if he couldn’t care less about the book or the exam that faced you in a day’s time. “I have a good idea for something we can do to review. Can I try something? Tell me if you need me to stop,” your lab partner asks innocently, fixing you with an earnest gaze to make sure that you’re okay with what he’s about to do as he searches for any trace of hesitation in your eyes.
You don’t know what in you decides that this will be a good idea; hell, you don’t even know what it is he wants to try, but you nod back surely.
“You trust me, _____?” He asks, needing a verbal confirmation to make sure you’re truly okay with his idea.
“Yes, Seokjin, I trust you.” Once again, you nod resolutely as your heart thuds in anticipation for what he’s about to do.
Jin smiles, pleased, and wastes no time pulling the collar of your shirt down further until your breasts pool over it indecently, smirking a little when he takes in the lack of a barrier between him and your skin. You freeze, watching as he eats up the sight in front of him.
“No bra? Hm, I like it. You probably did it knowing I would come over and see you like this, aren’t I right, _____? Who knew you’d be this filthy?,” he muses, eyes fiery with desire but still stopping to search yours for any hint of discomfort.
You can’t even answer at first, left dumbfounded and not expecting these words to come out of your sweet, kind lab partner’s mouth. A hot heat spreads across your cheeks, and you're pretty sure your jaw’s fallen open, too.
“I-I said you weren’t invited,” you counter weakly, and he lets out a low chuckle. “And what does this have to do with reviewing?” Your eyes narrow.
He chuckles darkly. “You’ll see soon. Just be patient and keep reading.” He shifts up a bit to rest on his stomach so he has a full view of your chest, now completely out on display for him. You can’t be sure, but in the silent room you swear you hear an intake of breath.
He places two warm hands on each of your breasts, feeling the weight, the swell of each one in his hand. It’s definitely been a while since the last time you’d had a hookup, because even this simple action has heat pooling in your core. One hand plays with a pert nipple, twisting and pinching it in between long fingers. The other hand kneads at your other breast, ensuring that each one is getting equal attention. He runs the flat of his thumb over each nipple, interrupting each motion with a rough palming of each breast.
“Eyes on the notes, _____,” he warns, tone suddenly strict when he catches you staring a little bit at his moving hands. “Or I stop, and my pretty girl doesn’t want me to stop, does she?”
His use of ‘my pretty girl’ has something stirring in your stomach. Although you can’t say you’d mind that — being his girl — at all, that certainly seems to have come out of left field. Unpacking that will have to wait for another time, though.
“It seems like you don’t want to stop either, judging by how your hands are still on my boobs,” you retort quickly. His eyes flash briefly, which sends another shock of heat down your spine.
“Wrong answer,” he glares. “So smart, but you don’t know that you should keep your mouth shut if you don’t have anything good to say?”
Why does that sentence have you biting back a moan?
You’ve learned better than to try and say something snappy back now, so you just acquiesce and fix your eyes back on the point about autosomal inheritance patterns that you’ve probably committed to memory by now because you’ve read it so many times.
You do your best to not look at him as his actions continue in fear of him stopping again, and try to focus on the papers in your hands, still avoiding his gaze. Infuriatingly, even as your breath grows more and more ragged, the peeks that you sneak of what’s going on in front of you reveal an unaffected Seokjin.
You try to keep your focus, you really do, but it’s hard when the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen has both of your breasts in his large hands, moulding them and grabbing at them. You’re trying to hold your slides still, but your hands are shaking a little in anticipation of what Seokjin might do next, and you can’t really decipher the words on the page as they blur in and out of focus. Epistasis makes even less sense than usual. When Jin sees you’re not paying attention to the stack of papers in your hands, he slips his hands away and fixes you with a disapproving gaze.
“Let’s see how much you know or if you still have to keep studying,” he says cockily, snatching the notes out of your hand to see what you’re reviewing. “Explain what epistasis is.”
Your brow furrows. You hadn’t quite begun reviewing that concept yet, and truthfully you’d barely understood it when it had been explained initially. “It’s when there’s incomplete expression of one phenotype caused by the other phenotype?”
“Nope,” he almost singsongs, popping the ‘p’ for increased effect. “Aw, looks like you still have a lot to cover if you want to have the highest grade in the class and beat me on this exam,” he says, so condescendingly you’re taken aback.
You glare at him as menacingly as you can (which probably isn’t very menacingly because he lets out a low snort), snatch the papers back out of his hands, reposition yourself so that the papers are at your eye level, and focus your attention back to the topic at hand.
Once he’s satisfied your attention is fully on the material, Seokjin returns to his previous endeavour, but instead of the hands you’d expected, it’s his soft lips that you’re met with. This time, you can’t hold back a soft moan as his hot tongue laves one nipple, twisting the bud and tugging at it.
The other breast is met with his free hand, tugging and pinching. Not an inch of your chest goes without exploration. Your toes curl in pleasure when his sharp teeth gingerly graze your other bud before leaving a kiss on it. In your hands, the slide deck crumples in your tight grip, your eyes begin to flood with tears from how turned on you are, and you can’t even pretend to focus on the material now.
As his touches to your chest grow more and more infrequent, you breathe a sigh of relief and blink back the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, although you don’t think there’s any going back for the puddle between your legs. You only have one more slide until you’re finished with your studying completely, and Jin seems to be growing tired of teasing you. Although you don’t dare to glance over towards his direction to see what he’s doing, lest you abandon all composure and just jump on him, he’s more or less withdrawn from his previous work of marking up your breasts with his hands and tongue.
You try your best to commit to mind the last point on the slide deck in your hands, which is by now crumpled beyond use, and toss the papers onto the floor underneath you once the last bullet point is committed to memory, uncaring of where it lands.
As if he was waiting for a signal that you were done studying, Seokjin’s pillowy lips suck on every free inch of skin they can find: your breasts, your neck, your collarbones. His teeth tug and bite, sure to leave marks that will earn you a few raised brows from your friends, as you melt under his touch. He kisses at spots under your jaw that have you struggling to keep your moans quiet in the likely case that your roommate is asleep.
Seokjin’s tongue laves over the bites, almost as if to heal the marks, and leaves gentle kisses over each one before finding another blank spot to leave a mark. He sits back, almost as if to admire his handiwork.
“All my studying is done, but you haven’t even finished reading your notes,”. Now it's your turn to introduce condescension into your tone. Your accomplishment earns you an impressed gaze from your lab partner, which eventually settles on your bare chest.
“Good girl,” he smirks. “My _____ studied so hard. Now I can give you your reward."
He leans in to plant a contrastingly soft kiss to your lips, and you finally, finally get to feel those thick, glorious lips on yours. He tastes like a combination of the packs of gummy candies he’d single-handedly demolished over the past few hours and the berry-scented lip balm he uses.
The kisses are chaste at first, though you have no idea why he’s holding himself out to be pure with his kisses since he’s spent the greater part of an hour making himself intimately familiar with your chest, but you press him closer to you as you hook your arms around his neck so you can get closer to him and lick into his mouth. He lets out a muffled note of surprise, but quickly matches your need for more, tilting your head back in the way he somehow instinctively knows that you like and matching your actions with his own tongue.
His lips are so soft as they tug your own lower lip between them. Absentmindedly, you think it’s a great testimonial for the Laneige lip balm he’s always applying in your lectures. He pulls away so you both can breathe, peppering sweet kisses up and down your neck as you greedily suck in air so you can kiss him for as long as possible without having to pull away.
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this, you don’t even know,” murmurs Jin right before he goes back in towards your lips. It’s so quiet you’re almost not sure if he’d intended you to hear him or not, but your heart thumps hard in your chest anyway.
All you can focus on is the heat pulsing through the veins in his neck under your wrists and the overwhelmingly fresh scent of his trademark woodsy cologne. It’s hard to tear yourself away from his delectable lips, but you force yourself to, lest you both lose oxygen and are unable to continue… whatever this is, chest heaving like you’ve just run a marathon.
A peek at the impressive tent in his lap reveals that he’s already hard, causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise.
“All that from some kissing, Jinnie?” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at his lap.
“You have no idea, pretty girl,” he replies, voice still gravelly. The lust in his chocolate eyes is still there, but now there’s a veneer of adoration in front of them that you’re not sure what to make of.
You slip out from under him so that he’s lying on the bed now, moving to throw your thighs on either side of his shapely hips so your clothed core is hovering over his erection. You’re drawn back into his lips, pressing against them with your own until you’re sure both of your lips look swollen.
With him, there’s no sense of a rush, and it feels like Seokjin is taking his time tasting you, learning how you taste, as if trying to commit you, your reactions, and what you like to memory. His large hands cup your face as he continues to taste your lips, the chaste kisses gradually turning into less innocent ones. Although you feel content to go on like this for a while longer, almost drunk off of the lack of oxygen and the taste of his lips, the man under you is getting a little antsy.
His hands slip down to your hips now, and any instance of chastity disappears as he pulls you down onto him so the head of his cock is driven onto your clit, and you squirm in pleasure. He decides to sit up with you still on his lap, which pushes the head of his cock further into your clit (and you’re sure it was intentional, the little shit), forcing a gasp to bubble its way out of your lips.
From what you can feel, it’s big, and that was only the head. You can’t even imagine how the whole thing will feel inside. If it could get any wetter, you’re sure your pussy would be weeping right now.
Showing commendable restraint, he pulls you off of his lap, grabbing your hips and plopping you onto one thigh so you’re straddling his quad, and gently flexes his quad so the muscle is in direct contact with your clit. The direct stimulation has your eyes rolling back into your head, and when he begins to drag you forward and backward at an agonizing pace, you let out a moan that he’s quick to swallow up, lips meeting yours once again as your hips no longer require his guidance to move.
You pick up speed the slightest bit, but when you look up, Seokjin still looks blissfully unaffected. This realization pisses you off — how come you’re the only flustered one in this equation? You’re close to coming apart practically still completely clothed.
“Wait, why am I the only naked one here?” Your eyes narrow. “Not fair.” He just grins. You use your position on top of him to tug at his white sweater, bringing it up halfway to reveal gently sun-kissed skin stretched over a trim waist and lean ab muscles, with a well-defined V-cut that’s hidden partly by the waistband of his jeans and briefs. He helps you out, reaching behind his head to pull his top off the rest of the way, and you sit back to admire Seokjin’s beauty in full.
God damn, your lab partner’s handsome, and built like a Greek god too.
“Thank you,” he says sweetly, batting his eyes at you, painting himself as the picture of innocence. You flush, realizing your thoughts had been louder than you’d intended.
“Didn’t mean to say that out loud,” you groan. “Your head is big enough as it is.”
“I have lots of reasons to have a big head, princess. You’ll figure a few of them out soon,” he grins, teeth glimmering in your poorly lit room. You can only roll your eyes at his confidence, though you can definitely feel it’s not unfounded.
Bringing your lips down to his thick neck, you leave little kisses on it, running your hands up and down his firm chest as he lets out tiny breaths and moans. While he still drags your hips up and down his flexed thigh with no urgency, you shift your focus to the newly exposed skin, and it’s your turn to lave his chest with kisses, leaving little marks on his abs. His chocolatey brown nipples aren’t spared any of your attention either, as you leave delicate kisses on each one and let your nails drag across his pecs. Jin’s head is thrown back, exposing the thick neck to your eyes once more.
He’s loving it as much as you are, keening into your touch, breaths growing louder and more insistent, even letting a high-pitched whine slip out when you let your teeth graze over his neck.
What you wouldn’t give to bruise the thick, vascular neck up, mark it with reciprocal blooming blotches of purple and blue and red just as you’re sure he’s done to your neck. You shelve the thought for another time, though — you’ve got more pressing issues at hand, specifically the one that had pressed insistently into you through the layers of his jeans and your pyjama shorts.
Your kisses have led you all the way down to the waistband of his jeans, and you mouth gently at the hot, exposed skin there. Your head dips lower, inching closer and closer to the hardness in his pants, and his eyes fly open as you blink up at him innocently, peering up through thick lashes. It’s working, because he groans.
“As much as I’ve thought about seeing my cock in your pretty mouth, babe, I won’t last a minute if you start now. I want you on your knees for me next time for sure, I’ll fuck your throat so good it’ll be sore from me… fuck, I don’t even know if you’ll be able to take me,” he trails off, shuddering a little. You want to protest on that last point, but you have a feeling he might be right.
With this, Jin slides you off of him so that he can slip his jeans off, tossing them haphazardly off of the bed.
Clad in nothing more than his underwear now, he allows you a quick glance up and down his figure (quick, however, is not a good description of how long your gaze stays on the obvious erection in his briefs) before he lazily pushes you back down onto the bed with a strong hand. As you lie on your back, the man in front of you leisurely plops down on the bed. A hand snakes down your front to pull your pyjama shorts down and roughly spread your legs apart, tossing the tiny shorts off the bed. Your cotton panties are still on, probably clinging to your folds, and it’s embarrassing how wet you feel when he hasn’t even ventured any further than your breasts yet. You hope your arousal isn’t visible, but Seokjin’s smirk tells you that it most definitely is.
“Oh, _____, so wet for me already and I haven’t even started with you yet. Who would have known my smart girl was such a slut, huh?” His smirk grows even more and you find yourself even more affected by his sinful words. If any part of your brain was still able to form thoughts unrelated to Seokjin, you would probably be analyzing why his degradation turned you on so much, but as it stood, you couldn’t bear to think about much more than the man in front of you.
His eyes are still fixed on the spot between your thighs, and your futile attempt to shy away and close your legs from his view is stopped by a strong arm pushing them right back up into place. Legs back open now, you can feel Seokjin devouring the sight in front of him. A thumb reaches over to nudge at your clit, so gently that if you had been any less attentive, you would have dismissed as an accident.
But you know Kim Seokjin, and you know that he’s too smart for accidents.
The thumb picks up its pace, and there’s no mistaking anything as an accident now. A fingers prods at your entrance through your thin, now sopping wet panties, as the thumb on your nub increases its speed. Your eyes screw shut as the pressure builds in your lower abdomen, but you bite your lip to prevent any sounds from coming out. It’s then that his hands pull away.
“Look at me, princess,” commands the voice in front of you. “I want you to see who’s making you feel this good, hm? And let me hear you too, yeah? Say my name so I know how good I’m making you feel.” You oblige, a moan escaping your lips as if on command, and Seokjin grins.
“That’s my good girl. How about one more question before we see if you get to come, huh?”
“Please, Seokjin, I need more, please,” you plead, unable to hold yourself back now.
“After you answer this, ____,” he tuts. “What are the chances of inheriting an autosomal dominant condition, and name one?”
This, blessedly, takes you no time to answer. You’re not sure if it’s the threat of having to wait any longer for your orgasm, or if just you’re genuinely that familiar with the material. “50% and Marfan syndrome”.
“Correct again. Looks like I have to give my princess what she wants,” he shrugs, all too happy to oblige. Your panties are down your legs before you know it, tossed into some corner of the room. Once again your legs are spread open by Jin’s large hand as you’re now completely bare to him for the first time, and hungry eyes take in every inch of your skin. He takes a sharp breath.
The pillowy lips you’d had the pleasure of kissing earlier return for more, except they don’t return to your mouth. Instead, they latch on to your clit, occasionally stopping for teeth to graze your clit and for a tongue to lap at your juices. You feel your pussy practically vibrate with the force of your lab partner’s moan as he gets his first taste of you, and you feel your hips arching off the bed, but Seokjin’s response is to take a strong arm and hold it down firmly against your hips to prevent your wiggling away from him. His tongue licks a clean stripe up your pussy before slipping into your opening, fucking into it gently but still pleasurably, causing you to moan.
“Fuck, _____, I could eat your sweet pussy for days and not get tired,” Seokjin muses, sitting back to lick what’s left of your juices off of his mouth before leaning in to place a sweet kiss on your lips so you can get a taste of yourself. He brings his head back in between your legs, picking up where he left off. It feels like he eats you out like a glutton, a man starved as if one day the world will run out of what he’s eating. “Hiding this from me for so long, I’ve missed out, fuck.” He sounds genuinely affected.
“… been missing out on this too,” you gasp, fingers flying to the downy hair on the back of his head as you push your pussy further onto his face, as if it could bring him any closer to you.
The noises you can hear from below you are absolutely obscene, but you don’t even care; in fact, it’s hot hearing the evidence of how affected Seokjin has gotten you and taking in his own vocal expressions of pleasure. Your hands are woven into his soft black hair, tugging and pulling on it so it’s sticking up in all directions, but he doesn’t seem to mind it at all. With one particularly harsh suck of your clit in his mouth, you hiss and pull his hair by the roots harder than you intended to, and he lets out a guttural moan.
“Taste so good,” he pants, eyes blown black as he pulls away to monitor your reaction to his ministrations. Your hand weakly slides down to his cheek, reassuring him without using words.
He only needs to pause for a few breaths before he gets back to work, making sure his lips and tongue are everywhere; alternating from having his tongue fucking into you, to ghosting his nose over your clit as he laps at the source of your nectar like a cat might lap at a bowl of milk, to sucking your clit between those sinful lips of his. Suddenly, one finger breaches your opening as he’s kissing your clit. You gasp out in relief, walls clenching around him tightly as they suck him in greedily.
The telltale noises of squelching sound out from between your legs. You flush slightly, and Jin picks up on it, of course he does.
“Can you hear that?” His finger picks up the pace, and you let a whine slip out in response. “You’re even filthier than I imagined. Your pussy just keeps getting wetter for me the more I praise you and the more nasty things I say to you. I had a feeling before that you liked to be praised, but I’m almost positive that it turns you on now. Am I right?” You can’t help but throw your head back at that.
Suddenly he stops, fixing you with a vacant, blank stare, so devoid of the warm look that’s usually in his eyes. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”
Your cheeks burn. “Y-yeah, shit, r-really like it when you praise me, Jinnie,” you barely manage to get out as he smirks, revelling in your embarrassment. You move to drag a pillow over your face, but he stops you with a light squeeze of your wrist as if he can tell what you're about to do, and you drop the idea entirely.
“Who would have expected that? The smartest girl in the class can be a dirty girl too, can’t she?” It’s praise, but he’s paired it with depravity. Whatever it is, it makes you flush and moan.
That was clearly the response he wanted, though, because he gets back to work as if he’d never taken his mouth off of you. His tongue on your clit returns, slowing down as his finger speeds up impossibly fast, curling against the spongy flesh that has your breath catching in your throat. One finger becomes two, and you wince as you feel the slight stretch of your walls to accommodate it.
“Squeezing my fingers so tight, baby, I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my cock,” he blinks at you slowly, faux concern dripping off his tone. The words are sleazy, but because it’s Jin, it doesn’t come off that way. No, in fact; the gap between the kindness you’ve seen from him thus far and the downright filthiness he’s showing you now has you more excited for the prospect of finally having him inside you.
“I can take it!” You whine meekly in protest.
He only snorts in response. “Greedy.”
The two thick fingers inside of you become three, and you squirm, not having expected him to add another finger. “Relax, sweet girl, you’re gonna need a bit more prep before you’re ready for me,” he leans in to place a brief kiss on your lips before settling back down on his knees to meet your clit again.
Your hands tangle in his slightly-too-long hair, blunt nails scraping against his scalp as he brings you closer and closer to your end. The combination of his three fingers pistoning into your heat and scissoring inside as his tongue laps gently at your clit is getting to be too much, and you whine out as your orgasm threatens to tear through you.
“Fuck, Jin, I’m so close, please don’t stop,” you hiss out. You can feel your release growing ever-closer, like a ball of fire ready to burst in your stomach, and all you want is to reach that pinnacle. He seems to oblige, fingers picking up speed until you’re fit to burst.
Suddenly, Seokjin detaches himself from your clit and laughs, the evil bastard, and pulls out his fingers from your core, all of his motion ceasing as you clench around absolutely nothing. The ball in your stomach that you’d thought was ready to burst hardens and all but goes away, making you grit your teeth in displeasure. You’re about to give him a piece of your mind, but he jumps in.
“You can’t cum till I say you can, princess,” Jin says breezily, still with his trademark lightness in his tone but with traces of his earlier dominance seeping in. “Can you do that for me, baby?” You glare back, and all he does is grin.
“_____, if you really thought you’d… be in control or something?” Seokjin erupts into peals of laughter that are quick to dissipate, as he fixes you with a gaze so hot you feel like he’s already gone ahead and fucked you. “You were wrong. This isn’t the lab.”
All you can do is glare back, too needy and too busy mourning your lost orgasm to properly retaliate.
“Tell you what. If you answer my questions right, I’ll let you come. Can you show me you’re a smart girl and do that for me?” He offers, voice dripping with faux kindness like he’s showing you mercy, but the heat burning behind his eyes tells you the truth. All you can do is take it, so you nod.
“How do you determine what proportion of individuals in a population will have a certain genotype?”
You’re sure your confusion is plainly etched on your face, because you don’t remember the exact way to do it. That, and all of your brain cells had been focused on what you had thought was an imminent orgasm, mean that it’s taking more effort than usual to think of the answer. Seokjin motions at you to answer the question, eyebrows furrowed like your lack of an answer is boring him.
“Um. Use the Hardy-Weinberg equilibrium formula,” you stutter out. Is that even right? You don’t even know, nor do you care; you’re so fucked out (without even really being fucked!) that you can’t be bothered to think straight.
“Very good, smart girl,” he kisses you, lips lingering on your own long enough that you could consider the kiss romantic, or maybe it’s your own feelings clouding your judgment. Even with your correct answer, he makes no move to resume his ministrations, sitting back on his heels now with his arms crossed across his wide chest.
You let your eyes sit on how juicy his quads look in this position, and then how toned his forearms, pecs and shoulders are, before lazily dragging them back up to his handsome face. The look you’re met with on Seokjin’s face tells you that you must not have been subtle with your admiration and that he’s not impressed.
“If we run gel electrophoresis and get multiple bands, what does that mean?” He asks, eyebrow raising as your lower lip falls open and you struggle to form a thought. “Hmm? Won’t you show me how smart you are and answer my question?” Seokjin asks, impatient and a little mocking now. It’s criminal how much him being a little mean is turning you on; it’s a total switch from the warm, gentle personality you’ve gotten to know over the semester, and it makes your pussy weep in excitement.
This question takes you longer as you have to blink through the sex-induced haze in your mind. “Uhhh… wrong primer selection during PCR?” you get out, with even less certainty than the prior answer. He beams with pride.
“So smart, princess; see, this is why I wanted you to study. Gel electrophoresis was our first experiment together, do you remember?” He coos at you, and it’s almost terrifying how quickly he can flip the switch from being dominant and a little mean to tender. You preen under the praise, discomfort from being left on the edge of your orgasm and then so rudely pulled back almost completely forgotten now.
This time, when he lowers himself to your entrance again, it’s slow and exploratory, nothing like the roughness of teeth grazing your clit beforehand. Combining it with expert rolls of your clit with his tongue and curls of his fingers against your walls, it’s not long before you’re dragging yourself up and down his face again, relishing the feeling of pulling your sensitive clit over the curve of his nose. Before you know it, the cramp in your lower stomach re-forms, and you peer at him with begging eyes, hoping he’ll finally, finally, let you come.
“You’ve waited long enough, princess. I think you can let go for me now,” he says as casually as he might say hello to you, punctuating the end of his sentence with a fingertip’s direct pressure to your engorged clit.
Because you’ve been on edge for so long, pushed and brought back from the verge of orgasm more times than you actually come with other partners, this one feels all the more intense. The knot that’s formed and loosened in your stomach too many times to count bursts all of a sudden, and you let out what can only be described as a squeal of his name and a string of curses, shaking slightly as your back arches sharply off the bed as if you’ve been jolted with electricity. Belatedly, you reach a hand down, meeting moisture at the apex of your thighs and pooling on the sheets under you. The light could be playing tricks on you, but Seokjin’s face and chin seem to be glistening as well.
Well, he’d gone and done it; the multiple times he’d built you up to your peak only to not let you come had meant that your orgasm, when it had been allowed to crest, had arrived with a vengeance, leaving its evidence all over the bed and your lab partner’s handsome face.
You chuckle nervously. It’s not the first time it’d happened, but it was the first time someone else had made you squirt. Usually, it was just your vibrator on its highest setting that could get you that far. You flush and wriggle into your sheets uncomfortably, hoping he’s not been weirded out, but your partner is clenching his jaw and appreciating the sight in front of him.
“Why are you embarrassed? That was fucking hot; all from my hands and mouth, princess?” As if to prove to you that he’s anything but disgusted, he reaches onto his chin where some of your release had landed and plops a soaked finger into his mouth, all while making direct eye contact with you. Again, just as he had while he was eating you out, he leans in to kiss you and let you get a taste of your release.
“How about you do that again, maybe on my dick this time?“
“Oh, d-don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you pant, still recovering from the intensity of your orgasm.
His eyes flash black, and if you had any doubt beforehand, you knew he definitely wasn’t going to show you any mercy now.
Seokjin leans back, quickly stripping off the last piece of fabric covering him, and you let your eyes simply sit below his toned stomach for a moment. You’d had some idea that he was big — you’d seen it in his briefs, felt it when he’d had you on his lap — but that still hadn’t prepared you for the mouthwatering sight in front of you. You wonder how he’s even able to fit it in the sinfully tight jeans he sometimes wears.
His cock is not only long but thick, flushed a dark red at the tip where it flares off into the bulbous head, and if you squint you can see the head has already been moistened by pre-cum. The vein on the side is bulging out, telling you he’s not fared much better than you had over your time together. Your throat runs dry and you suddenly wish he’d let you try to suck him off earlier just so you could see how much of it you could fit in your mouth and down your throat, and your hips keen up off the bed almost without your knowledge.
The sight of his large hand lazily stroking himself as he watches the rise and fall of your chest and gets ready to fuck you in earnest is itself erotic, and without thinking, you reach out to see how it fits in your hand. He shuffles his hips closer to facilitate your endeavours and you both let out a moan when your hand, slick with your own release, closes curiously around his girth. Of course, the weight and feel of it in your hand is nothing short of perfect. Truly, your lab partner had been blessed in every possible way.
You stare, mesmerized, as you watch your hand struggle to close around his cock while you mimic the slow strokes he’d given himself, and he’s affected too, lower lip looking like it’s ready to burst under the pressure of his teeth burrowing into it.
“So fucking big,” your words come out without thinking, and if it sounds like you’re in awe, it’s because you are. “Wide as a goddamn soup can or something, fuck, should have warned me,” and it’s just nonsense you’re babbling out now. Seokjin laughs, but it turns into a choked hiccup when your thumb glides over the slit and spreads the pre-cum there.
“Just like that,” he hisses when you tighten your fist over the widest part of him, and it’s so sexy to watch how much your little touches affect him. Suddenly, you feel even emptier, the realization that you’ve been left unfilled now unsettling, and all you can think of is how his cock will feel inside of you.
“If you don’t put that in me right now, Seokjin, I might start crying,” you warn, only partly kidding.
“Aw, we can’t have that,” he pouts in mock concern, and shuffles down, letting his heavy cock fall out of your slick palm and positioning it between your folds, just close enough to breach your entrance but not making a move to actually go any further. As he gets closer to finally entering you, his face falls in realization. “Shit, I don’t have a condom; d’you have one?” He casts a pleading glance at you, praying that this won’t be where the night ends.
You reach over to the bedside table and blindly feel around, but you know it’s useless; you haven’t had any play in longer than you can remember, so you had no reasons to keep condoms around. Indeed, the only things in the otherwise empty drawer are some hair ties.
As you shake your head no, you watch him crumple in frustration, and you suddenly feel bad for causing the look to cross his face. “But I’m clean and on the pill, so I’m okay to go without if you’re clean too,” you reassure him.
“I’m clean too,” he nods in relief, and you’re sure it’s no coincidence that he lets his thick cock drag through your slick folds now, holding it by the base as he lets the head snag on your clit and rest at your entrance. You both hiss at the contact, and he does the same thing again. And again. You feel tears well up in your eyes in earnest after he repeats the motion for the fourth time.
“Don’t tease any more, please, Jinnie, please.” Your voice breaks on the last word. It’s just begging now as your watery eyes peer up into his, and you’re not ashamed of it. You might actually combust if you had to go any longer without feeling him inside of you.
“Such a greedy girl, begging to get filled up by cock,” he chides, but you know he’s as eager as you are. He acquiesces to your request and, with one last slide of his cock down your slit until it catches your hole, gathering some of the wetness that’s accumulated there, he pushes in just enough for his fat head to feel the pressure of your velvety walls. He doesn’t get much further than that before you let out a breath you don’t even realize you’d been holding.
“How — you — so fucking tight,” he hisses out, stunned by the pressure he’s facing as he tries to breach your walls.
You let out a sharp hiss as you begin to feel your walls stretching to accommodate his sheer size. “It’s been a while, and you’re bigger than anyone I’ve ever been with,” you say bluntly. You’ve given him a big enough head with your compliments tonight, so you figure there’s no harm in making it even bigger now. It’s not like you were lying to flatter him, either; it was simply true. With that, he pushes in another bit, and your hand flies to his pec to steady yourself.
“G-give me a second — ah,” you gasp as your walls stretch to accommodate him more, if even possible. “Feels so fu-fucking big, Jin, shit,” you’re practically incoherent now, the dull ache of the stretch beginning to subside into something more akin to pleasure.
He grins again, all white, pearly teeth. “Told you I had reasons to have a big head.”
“Shut u— ahh,” you gasp out as he uses the banter as an opportunity to distract you from the dull pain between your legs and slide in ever so much further. You cry out when you look down and take in how much of him is left outside of you. Realizing you’re in some discomfort, he stills his motions and tilts your head up, gently placing two fingers under your chin to force you to meet his eyes, which are full of concern now.
“_____, if it hurts, it’s okay. Just tell me and we can stop,” he says gently, all traces of his cocky attitude gone now.
“N-no, doesn’t hurt, just need to go slow,” you pant out, and you’re not lying to placate him. The stretch is quickly becoming delicious, and your mouth waters thinking of how much more is left to take. In fact, you’re sure he’ll have no trouble hitting your cervix, and even though it might not be anatomically possible, you have a feeling you’ll be able to feel him under your belly button if you press down hard enough. Your pussy feels like it’s leaked out a bit more at the thought of how deep he’ll be inside you, even though by now you feel like you must have reached some sort of saturation point with how wet you are.
“Sweet girl is trying so hard to take me, isn’t she? So sexy, _____,” he groans. “Fuck, I could come right now, baby. You’re being so good for me, taking me so well, squeezing so fucking tight around me.”
To distract you, he leans down to lave you with kisses, again taking the brief bursts of pleasure from his kisses and sweet words as opportunities for distraction to slide in more and more until he’s sheathed all the way in, your clit flush against his pubic bone. He lets out a moan of his own, leaning in to catch your lips with his own as you accommodate to the intrusion.
“Holy shit,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feel so fucking good, so f-full, holy fuck. Just stay like- like that for a second, Jinnie.”
Seokjin laughs out. “Really intelligent sentence there, __,” but he sounds no less affected than you are. His usually full voice is nothing but a whisper now. You don’t even care to retort; the way his cock is splitting you in half is a stretch more delicious than you’ve ever felt before. It feels like both heaven and hell itself.
“Pussy’s fucking squeezing me, princess, shit. I prepped you so well and you’re still so tight around me, I’m not gonna last in this perfect pussy for long,” the last words of his sentence trail off into a groaned exhale. Slowly, the dull ache subsides into a need for him to move, hit spots in you only his cock could reach.
“Am I OK to move now?” He taps with two fingers against your cheek, gently but so as to get your attention. You nod, pleading with your eyes because you don’t trust yourself not to moan far more loudly than would be acceptable for the late night hour, and blessedly, he understands.
“Splitting me in f-fucking half, baby, feels so good. Please move.” You eventually manage to choke out, and he leaves a kiss on your nose before getting to work in earnest.
Your words are all he needs to hear, and he slides all the way out only to slam himself back in, such that it feels like you’re having the air literally fucked out of your lungs. It feels like his thrusts do actually end somewhere behind your belly button, and somehow you have the presence of mind to move the hand that had been resting idly on your chest further down to your stomach. Sure enough, you feel his cock bulging there, and you moan out.
“Can feel you in my guts, hhhhhh----ahhh,” you say in admiration and slightly disbelief. He can only laugh.
“Not sure that’s possible,” he grits out lowly, but the words clearly do something to him as he slips out halfway only to hammer back into you again, hiking one of your legs up over his wide shoulders for a better angle. This lets him slide into you further and your eyes actually see white for a second in pleasure as he hits your G-spot with his next thrust. If you thought he’d been splitting you in half before, he sure as shit was now.
“Came here to study and saw you were in those tiny fucking pyjamas, fuck, your tits and legs looked so good, wasn’t planning to do this like this, but I c-couldn’t help myself, you looked so fucking sexy studying like that,” he babbles, entranced by the way your lips are gripping his cock as he slides in and out. His words go in one of your ears and out the other, because you’re too focused on how easily his thrusts are meeting the spongy spot inside of you that has your vision spotting black at the sides and how it feels like your walls are being stretched in all directions to welcome him in. His pace is brutal, unforgiving, but delicious. It’s almost too much to bear.
“Look at you, creaming on me already,” he admires, looking down on the white ring at the base of him in awe. “You’ve wanted me as bad as I’ve wanted you, right?”
You nod fervently. “F-fuck, yeah, wanted you for a while, Jinnie,” hissing when he takes this as an opportunity to pick up speed in his thrusts. You’re sure you look nothing short of debauched now: breasts bouncing to meet the speed of his thrusts, lips swollen from all of his kissing and your own biting to stifle back loud moans, love bites probably forming all over your chest from your earlier activities, thighs still slick from your earlier release.
“F-fucking vice grip pussy,” he says in awe. “Squeezing me so well, definitely made to take me, fucking shit.” The totally unexpected filthy mouth he had on him was only turning you on more, and you pull him down to moan into his lips. But just as he senses you’re both getting ever closer to the edge, he stops his sloppy thrusts and pulls out of you completely, and you whine at the loss of contact. Seokjin flops down on the bed and manhandles you so that you’re above him.
“Try getting on top, babe,” he encourages. Lazily, he spits into his hand and brings it to your sex for more lubrication to make it easier for you to get on top and ride him, and you shrink away a little bit at the overstimulation.
You’re sure your lower lips are as red and swollen as the ones on your face are, and you have a strong suspicion you won’t be able to walk right for the next few days. You’re all too happy to set the pace yourself in this position and chase your own orgasm without him taking it away from you this time, but you’re met once again with the feeling of him splitting you in half. The stretch is only slightly easier now that you’ve been prepared. From this angle, his cock feels even thicker and wider, and you have to swivel your hips to get him down all the way into you.
“So sexy when my girl is on top of me, fuck. Pretty girl looks so good taking me,” Seokjin coos, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind your ear as you bite your lip, working hard to take more of him in.
It’s not easy, the stretch threatening to rip cries out of your throat and your quads burn as you make your way down to the width of his base, but it’s so rewarding when you finally get to a seated position right on top of him and can drag your clit across his pubic bone. You both moan out when he bottoms out inside of you, and you feel like you must have reached some sort of flow state: you’re being split lengthwise, widthwise, and having your clit stimulated all at once while Seokjin plays with your breasts, seemingly deciding at random whether he wants to suck a nipple into his mouth or roughly grip onto the fat of your breast. He’s staring up at you like you’re the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes upon, and you almost want to blush at how intimate it is, how seen you feel.
“Fucking my smart girl so stupid, aren’t I,” he muses, watching how you moan unabashedly at that, throwing your head back in response to his words. They seem to be the last push you need to pick up the pace, lifting yourself almost completely off of his dick so that only the head is left inside of you and slamming right back down, layering that with rotations of your hips as he goes back to lazily playing with your boobs, just like he’d started the night off by doing.
The telltale tightening in your lower belly begins, quicker than it’d come on when he’d taken his time eating you out, but no less pleasurable. The combination of having your breasts played with, Seokjin’s filthy mouth, and the way his cock is hammering into you are a recipe to bring about your own release.
Sure enough, his next thrust is the tipping point; you can’t even warn him or announce that you’re coming before it happens. The noise that leaves you can only be described as a squeal, and it feels like a balloon has popped inside your stomach; that’s how intense your orgasm feels, and you freeze. You're still on top of him but don’t make a move to get off, recognizing Seokjin must also be close to his own end, so you grit through the overstimulating feeling and clench around him in the hopes it will trigger his release sooner.
It’s as if you reaching your climax and squeezing around him even further lets him find a second wind. “I’m close,” he groans, pulling you down so you’re flush to his chest to allow him to get a strong grip on you as he fucks up into you. You bite his shoulder to avoid from screaming out in pleasure out of sheer oversensitivity, and he lets out a series of cusses, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier, even slipping out of you and needing to guide himself back in once or twice.
“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” Seokjin pants, and it’s now you’re able to appreciate he’s just as affected as you. His thrusts are sloppy, lacking the precision they’d had earlier, and his cockhead twitches inside of you.
“I-in me, please come in me, want it so bad,” you cry out, and it’s a wonder he even understands what you’ve so unintelligibly expressed. He is a smart guy, after all.
With some more slow, sporadic strokes, as he continues clutching you tightly to his broad, warm chest as if there’s a risk of you disappearing into thin air, he slides one hand down to your belly as if to feel himself in there. The sensation, and the intimacy of his actions, are so fucking heady that you sense yourself being edged closer and closer to the precipice of another orgasm.
With a deep grunt and one hand still pressing firmly on your lower belly, where your womb would be, he releases inside you. You feel the extra warmth fill you up, bringing you even closer to your end. You’re wound up so tightly that you suspect his next touch will be enough to trigger your own orgasm.
“I knew you’d look pretty stuffed full of my cum, _____. All mine. We can’t have any of this coming out, now can we?” He murmurs, watching his handiwork as he slips out of you. The thick stream of cum leaking out of you feels endless, even though you can’t see it. He’s quick to replace his cock with three fingers, though, so you’re not empty for long.
“F-fuck it back into me, keep it all in there,” you groan out mindlessly, mind still muddled from your last orgasm and the overstimulating feeling the stretch of his fingers is giving you.
“Aw, isn’t my princess full of good ideas? Such a smart girl. Maybe I didn’t fuck you stupid enough,” Seokjin muses darkly, and your back arches at his filth. As you both hiss at the loss of contact, he shuts you up with a brief kiss before two of his elegant fingers lazily plug you up, thumb flicking at your clit every now and then to see if he can send your orgasm hurtling down your body.
You were really testing the limits of your birth control tonight, you absentmindedly think. You think there’s also a certain irony about being stuffed full of pure genetic material before a genetics exam, of all things, but you’ve truly been fucked so stupid that you can’t even articulate these thoughts aloud in any comprehensible way.
Already so sensitive from your last orgasm, your hand tightens around Seokjin’s wrist, which is still acting to push any of his leaking release further back inside of you. Jin immediately slows his motions, peering at you with wide eyes thinking he’s hurt you, but when you heave out another needy sob he realizes he needs to keep going.
“S- so close, Jinnie, I need to — fucksoclosepleasedontstop”, you babble.
He soothes you, pushing your sweaty hair off of your forehead so he can plant a kiss there. His long fingers continue to massage your inner walls, and when your walls clench even tighter around him, he picks up his pace. You’re so turned on that you feel unable to breathe.
With a brush against your clit and a final rough curl of his fingers inside of you, you finally meet your end. You’re so spent that you can’t even let out a cry. An inaudible sob chokes its way up your throat as, for the third time that night, you feel yourself pushed to orgasm by your lab partner. He laves your cheeks, lips, and throat column with gentle, airy kisses, bringing you out of your daze. Though you’re too far gone to make out specific sentences, you hear low 'did so good's as he kisses up and down your cheeks and throat.
Seokjin slips his fingers out from inside of you, which are coated in your mutual releases thanks to his ministrations, and brings two of them to your lips, gently pushing down on your tongue. Your pussy quivers in pleasure, and if you hadn’t been so thoroughly fucked already, you’re sure this simple action would have had you ready to go again. The salty tang of the substances on your tongue serve as a reminder of your activities, and you close your mouth around his fingers with a moan, swivelling your tongue around them before pulling off with a plop that has him shuddering.
“You did so good for me, sweetheart,” Seokjin coos, using your discarded pyjama shorts to wipe away the mess on his hands and between your thighs that’s already leaked onto the sheets below. He leans up to plant a kiss on your lips before making his way to your forehead. “So good, my beautiful girl.” You can only let out a contented sigh.
You thank your lucky stars you’d picked the larger bedroom with its own bathroom when you’d first moved in, because you don’t think that your legs can currently take you any further than to the bathroom 3 steps away from your bed. Sensing you might be unsteady on your feet (which, of course, you are, thanks to his efforts), Seokjin takes your hand and leads you to the washroom for you to wash up.
Even though he’s spent the past few hours putting you in increasingly more compromising positions, he closes the bathroom door so you can have your privacy.
“Such a gentleman,” you murmur. You can tell he hears, because he lets out a snort.
When you emerge, too tired to have done anything other than pee, wipe yourself with a clean paper towel and wash your hands, he’s clothed again, seated on the edge of your bed with your discarded pyjama top and a bottle of water from his earlier snack run in his hands. You gratefully take both from him, guzzling half the bottle to soothe your hoarse throat and pulling the shirt over your unruly hair, and he holds out his hand to guide you back into bed before it’s his turn to wash up.
“Are you okay?” He asks, worriedly, coming out to see you tucking yourself into bed. “You’re sure that wasn’t too much?” You almost laugh at how concerned he looks.
It takes all your energy to respond, but he does actually look quite worried, so you realize he needs an answer to stop his racing mind. “No, Jin, I loved it!” You flush a bit, even though you’re not embarrassed at all. If anything, you’re more concerned for your exam performance after spending a good chunk of the night having sex with your lab partner. “But I’m going to have trouble walking tomorrow”.
He laughs at that, but you sense he still feels bad, and you won’t have that.
You pull his wrist towards you so he’s forced to look you in the eyes. “You treated me so, so good, Jinnie,” you murmur, and you’re so tired you’ve lost the ability to filter out inappropriate thoughts from leaving your mouth. “Just how I like. Felt so good splitting me in half like that,” and he lets out a low groan. You hope that’s enough to reassure him, because once you were recovered, you wanted — no, needed — to feel him again.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.”
Your eyes begin to flutter shut from exhaustion, and you hear the telltale sound of a belt buckle being done up. It’s only once the telltale creak of your door’s hinge sounds that you open your eyes. Sure enough, Seokjin’s at the door, ready to go.
“You know you can stay, if you want,” you mumble softly, though you know he hears you loud and clear by the way his eyes light up. “It’s late, and we have the exam tomorrow evening, anyway. Just leave in the morning.”
Seokjin pauses, hand still on the doorknob. You can clearly see the moment where he says “fuck it” in his eyes, hopping back into bed with you. He kills the light in the room, pulls his shirt and jeans back off, and climbs back into your bed, keeping to one side so as to give you space.
“Jin, you literally just gave me the best fucking I’ve ever had, I’d say we should be past the modesty and shyness stage at this point,” you murmur, eliciting a laugh from him as you feel around blindly behind you to pull him to your body. He takes the invitation to move closer, chin resting on your shoulder and arms moving to settle loosely around your waist.
“I promise that’s not the way I wanted this to happen, I wanted to ask you out first before we did anything. This is like, stage 10 and I haven’t even gotten to stage 1 with you yet.”
“Is that where all that ‘my girl’ and ‘my princess’ talk was coming from? Wishful thinking because you wanted to ask me out?” You tease, and he nuzzles his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder in embarrassment.
“I was waiting for the right moment to ask you out,” he defends himself clumsily. “I wanted to wait until after exams so you wouldn’t be distracted and could focus on studying, otherwise I was about to say something at the library last week, but you seemed so stressed,” and you can hear the pout in his tone now.
You turn around to place a gentle kiss on his plump lips. “So thoughtful, Jinnie. You could have just asked me. I’ve had the biggest crush on you since our first lab,” you say, a little embarrassed, although really you should have passed the point of embarrassment sometime shortly after squirting on your lab partner.
He laughs, the hiccupy one you’ve grown accustomed to hearing now. “We’re idiots, aren’t we? I’ve liked you since you told me off for LinkedIn stalking on the first day of class”.
“We’re idiots. This could have happened months ago,” you groan out. “Can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me for so long.”
“Guess we have no choice but to make up for lost time now, then,” he whispers, laughing into your neck, and it makes your heart swell with what can only be affection.
The next day passes by in a blur. Seokjin spent the night, leaving early in the morning to do his own review after using the limited contents of your fridge to make breakfast, while you brush up on last-minute topics that might have gone unnoticed in your studying. (You’re an expert on Hardy-Weinberg equilibrium, gel electrophoresis, and autosomal dominant inheritance patterns, although you can’t give any of those topics deeper thought for some strange reason).
You’d also gotten grilled by a cranky Seulgi, who informed you that she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before; guess you may not have been as quiet as you’d tried to be. “I don’t regret anything,” you'd boldly proclaimed, and she'd thrown a couch pillow at you. She had been easy to pay off, though — you’d only had to offer to buy her another pasta dinner to get her to lay off of you.
When you make it to the exam room later that evening, you almost laugh out loud when you see a question asking about Hardy-Weinberg equilibrium. What’s not as funny, though, is the memory of your previous night’s activities that gets triggered after reading this question, a flush making its way to your face as you wriggle, hopefully imperceptibly, in your seat. You hope Seokjin didn’t catch your reaction from his seat beside you.
Turns out that fucking your lab partner the night before the exam may not have been the worst study method after all, because the answers come to you in a breeze. Well, you can credit either the fucking or the active recall; one of them had to have been responsible for your excellent retention of course content.
You end up with a 98 on the exam. Seokjin gets a 97.
“What the fuck is a plastic phenotype?” he groans from beside you on exam review day, exam paper in hand as he points an accusatory finger at the lone red mark on his answer sheet. “They’re absolutely irrelevant.”
“Maybe if you’d actually read the textbook, you’d know,” you quip.
“We both know I was doing better things.” He retorts, eyes skimming down your figure.
You supposed you couldn’t exactly argue with that.
Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think 🥰 Although this fic started as something entirely self-serving based on the visual of glasses Jin, I hope there's something in it that everyone can appreciate LOL
thank you so much for reading!! clearly i take any opportunity to put my studies to use, even if it's just to establish a fanfic plot 🤓🤓 i'm sure everyone's uni experience would have been exponentially better if they had a lab partner or study buddy like this jin, i know mine would have LOL thank you for the kind words, i love reading tags like these!! 🫂💕
your fic writing trope preferences sound like you would enjoy writing rivals/enemies to lovers
how'd you know i have a few of those planned anon? ig i'm just that transparent LOL but i've wanted to do a sports rival au for years, and then the backwards cap visuals + everything he ever did for alo cemented it. this one is one of my wips although admittedly i've really stalled on it recently. like just look at the material below if that doesn't scream cocky athlete!jin...
i love reading an enemies to lovers especially when the animosity between the two is just thinly veiled tension (whether sexual or otherwise) and they do not fw each other at all until something snaps. but on the writing side i can't commit to a full enemies to lovers bc i find that sometimes needs angst to work the best and i'm unfortunately lazy to write angst well. so we stick to rivals for now bc that sort of relationship is more easily remedied than true enemies while still being fun to explore
another seokjin story based on him yesterday maybe? since that bro been so freaking sexy and hot day by day 🙂↔️🙂↔️🙂↔️ and yesterday he was so freakingggggg hot while holding the flag 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️. ps: i love your story, and i love you so much
what if i said something's coming. it's going to be short bc i am entering a really busy season and the other requests i've gotten/my wips need more fleshing out, but something is coming!
thank you for the kind words, sweet anon 🫂🥰😙😽 and i love to hear that people enjoy my work :))
u wanna write one abt seokjins fingers maybe like u did with the fred jewelry thing? it might be an interesting topic to explore as his fingers are quite uniquely structured due to the swan neck deformity and i think it makes his fingers more ever beautiful than anyone else actually, both nonsensually & sensually :))
agreed, his hands are beautiful. i can try something like this too but to hold you over in the meantime, there's a fic that focuses on this exact thing that might be what you're looking for! i'll reblog it to my fic rec blog rn!
aside from like... dead dove do not eat-type themes (underage, noncon, extreme violence, family relationships) or fics that glorify cheating, i don't think i have that many straight up nos? there's stuff i don't care much for personally so i don't think i'd write about it, stuff like yandere, daddy kink, probably others i can't think of rn but those two jump out. if i think of more i'll update this
(updating to add exotic dancer/stripper aus - nothing against them, i'm just not super interested in them, and there's no shortage of them already so i feel like i couldn't do anything that hasn't already been done!)
these next two aren't hard nos or anything but i don't have any plans to write about them atm. probably the biggest one is angst? unfortunately this is who's writing your fics
so i haven't really tried writing angsty fic. there are a lot of talented fic writers who can bake it into their fics really well but i don't think i'm one of them 😭 only way y/n is crying in my fics is if they're getting put through the mattress lmfaooo so lowkey i only have plans for slice of life/fluff/smut (ofc) fics, at least for now.
also historical or supernatural fics with a lot of lore and worldbuilding in them i probably won't do, just for a lack of ability/time/creativity. i'm envious of writers who have that skill bc there are so many good fics that rely heavily on lore and backstory their author created, lord knows i've recced a lot of good ones myself. the issue is that i'm not that creative nor do i have enough time to delve into that sort of writing LMAO. i think the most i'd do is include elements of historical or supernatural themes but to cook up a whole new backstory for a fic is a lot for me
