namjoon ✦ 7fates: chakho making
secret or sin - MYG
↣ Yoongi doesn’t like brats, not one bit, and he knows exactly what to do to fix it. But first he has something to give you; the final seal of his love.
✩ part of need to know, a sugar daddy yoongi series ✩
pairing — sugar daddy!yoongi x reader
genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, pwp
word count — 6K
warnings/tags — CEO!yoongi, dom!yoongi, sub!bratreader, established relationship, strong language, age gap, pet name, possessive yoongs, switching POVs, off camera discussion of kinks & limits, BDSM themes, explicit smut — masturbation (f), overstimulation, bondage, (impact play) SPANKING, blindfolds, hand kink, daddy kink, breast kink, sadism, light masochism, collaring, dirty talk, finger sucking, nipple play, hair pulling, biting/scratching, toy usage, orgasm control, breath play, choking, oral (m), throat fucking, cum eating, fingering, clit pinching, spit kink, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, degradation (wow)
a/n — look at those arms 😩 he can chokeslam me any day also, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while with them, so here it is finally! This can be read as a stand-alone but it’s better if you start from the beginning bc wyd if you haven’t read sugar daddy yoon yet?? thank u
To him, it must seem like you’re sulking. And you couldn’t care less, because you are, in fact, sulking.
He spent the entire afternoon holed up in his office and banished you to the guest room where he set a mini study for you to get busy with your own work. Because he can’t have you around him while he’s working, he said. You couldn’t get any work done, distracted by the thought that he’s only a door away. Usually, you would manage, but you guess it’s because you have so much time to fill in those applications, you’re stalling. Procrastinating, rather.
Procrastinating by staring at the back of your boyfriend’s head, while he sits hunched over his desk, typing away, flipping through documents. It also doesn’t help that he looks incredibly sexy in that beige sweater, strong arms flexing with each movement.
Despite knowing that he’s going to lecture you for shirking, you close the short space between you and pat his shoulders with both hands, signalling that he should fix his posture. He jolts upright, reaching over his chest to pat the back of your hand.
“I thought you were busy,” he whispers, voice even more gruff with lack of use.
You squeeze between the edge of the desk and his legs, planting yourself on his lap. Through his protests, his hands still fly to your thighs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your leggings.
“Yeah but, I missed you.”
His lips flatten into a thin line, raising his brows before he scratches his forehead, glancing between you and his computer screen with heavy eyes.
“Fine, fine,” you sigh deeply, hopping off his lap then spinning around to kiss the top of his head, face squished between your palms, “I’ll leave you alone. Do you have a pair of scissors?”
“Scissors?” He reaches down for one of the drawers, which is stocked with matte black stationery, matching the rest he has displayed across his office. His lips form a pout before he makes a noise of surprise, tilting his head slightly to look behind him. “Check in the last drawer there.”
Following his line of sight, you crouch down and rummage through the neatly packed drawer “thanks.”
He resumes his typing, while you’re lifting each container to find something else. You were wondering where it went after that night.
The silver glints in the low lighting when you lift it up slowly. A mischievous grin playing on your lips. He wouldn’t mind if you were to steal this for a while, right? Since he’s busy and you don’t want to disturb him, you’d have to find other ways to satisfy your needs, right? Ways that wouldn’t upset him. Too much.
“Did you find it?”
You shove the vibrator into your jacket pocket and pull out the scissors, kicking the drawer shut behind you, “yep.”
Walking around his desk slyly, anticipation building in your core, you fail to notice the feline eyes boring into you as you disappear out the door.
You think you’re clever. He laughs to himself, setting both his elbows on the desk before rubbing his eyes. Time for a little break.
Yoongi knows what you took, he could see from the corner of his eye and even if he didn’t, your body language told him all he needs to know. As if you haven’t been together for almost a year now. He knows exactly what to look for when it comes to you. Especially in a situation like this, when you feel neglected. Yearning for his attention.
He knows he’s been avoiding you. Although he can’t really avoid you since he basically asked you to live with him, until Taehyung gets his shit together. But he wouldn’t mind if you lived with him forever.
That’s where the issue lies.
With a groan, he rises from the chair and closes the blinds before switching on his desk lamp. The black box sits untouched in one of the cabinets high up. His fingers skim over the plain leather, heavy in his hands as he takes it out to inspect the details, again. He wants it, desperately.
To officially have you as his. For you to devote yourself to him. And him to you.
But he’s unsure about your reaction.
It’s silly, he knows, he’s been weak, vulnerable, tattered in your presence before and you accepted him with open arms, so why now, would this be different? He’s afraid. He doesn’t want to lose you. It’ll be something new for you. And even if he had something similar before, the feeling would be nothing compared to his jubilation if you were to accept him.
Because he loves you, truly.
He wants more, he will always want more with you because he can never get enough.
Absorbing the moonlight while he sits across from you, socked feet nudging one another as you listen with the reflection of the flame burning in your eyes. Swaying to the choppy song he plays on the guitar. Draping a blanket over your figure when you would fall asleep on the couch. You brush his hair out of his eyes. Make him a sandwich. He folds your clothes and sets it on your bed. His arms around you in a moment of sadness.
Carefully, he sets the collar back inside the box and pushes it far back on the shelf, reaching for the other, smaller box. The piece of jewelry he’s been holding onto for the past month, after that night with his parents.
Since then, he knew that this would be right. He’s never been more sure. All he’s waiting for is the right moment. And he can’t give you one without the other.
He’s broken out of his reverie when he hears his phone buzzing in an abandoned corner of his office. He doesn’t answer calls or texts on that phone since it serves a more personal purpose. Anyone of importance would know to reach him on his work phone.
It isn’t difficult for him to ignore the persistent buzzing in the background, but it does annoy him. Like a mosquito hovering around his ears. He should’ve switched off the vibrate option before he sat down. However, after five minutes have passed, his work phone rings and when he reaches for it absentmindedly, eyes on his notebook, an unexpected caller flashes on his screen.
He can’t bring himself to decline, even after he told you multiple times before that he doesn’t enjoy video calls.
After pacing around the room for almost half an hour, you finally kick off your shorts and fall back onto the bed. But before you can go any further, an idea weasels its way into your head. One that would most certainly get you what you want. And more.
So, you spring off the bed with renewed energy and lock the door then reach for your phone, sitting back against the headboard. The vibrator is warmer than before, sliding down the dip between your clothed breasts, hard against hard once you run it over your nipple. You shut your eyes briefly, envisioning Yoongi’s long, knuckly fingers twisting and kneading your breasts. A quiet gasp breaks from your lips and it isn’t long before the vibrator smooths over your inner thighs.
Your thumb slides down the switch to the highest setting, rippling into your flesh as your breaths quicken, panting once you direct it over your swollen nub, legs spread wide open. Lip caught between your teeth as the sensation thrums from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, you fight the urge to dip into your underwear, cracking your eyes open to find your phone and Yoongi. But he doesn’t answer.
You can’t pull your hand away, feet planted flat on the mattress as you buck up into your own fingers, running the vibrator down the sides of your inner lips, crying out when it skims your pulsating hole. Somewhere between finding his work phone number and holding off your orgasm, the back of your head presses into the plush pillow, mouth hanging open as you’re thrown off the edge. Moaning out his name just as he answers your call.
Yoongi’s phone nearly slips out of his hands at the sight. Your cheeks are flushed, strands of hair sticking to your neck, tits out, one hand resting between your legs.
He’s questioning if he really does know you. He’ll worry about that later. Because you clearly don’t know him yet.
Unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, he rises from his chair, making his way down the hall, anger boiling over. You seem to be unaware, lips in a fucked out smile, the buzz of the vibrator still going in the background. He catches that small twitch in your lip, and he loses it.
“What are you up to angel?”
Despite the way you’re spasming, body trembling from pushing yourself over the edge, you still manage to hold the phone up, a mumble of his name reaching his ears.
“I missed you.” You speak around a moan, that particular moan, rolling your hips into your own hand. His cock twitches in his pants. Oh, he’s gonna teach you a lesson tonight.
“Stop,” he growls, almost running to the guest room, a string of curses echoing throughout his home when he hears that needy whine of yours, “angel.”
“Hmmff, daddy.” He reaches the guest room just as your eyes roll back, gripping the pillow beside your head. That damn vibrator disappearing under your panties.
He expected the door to swing open once he twists the handle, head snapping to the phone comically once he makes the horrifying discovery that you’ve locked the door. Despite standing just outside, he looks at your writhing figure with disbelief, fuming when he hears you giggle.
“What’s wrong daddy?”
He grits his teeth, rolling up one sleeve then the other, struggling to keep the phone in his line of sight.
“Angel,” he tries, one deep exhale doing nothing to calm his anger, “open the door. Right now.”
He watches you sit up on the bed, hair framing your face as you shake your head, “no.”
“No?” He pokes his tongue in his cheek, fist meeting the door to see you jump, laughing with your hand covering your mouth. “We’ll see who’ll be laughing once you open the door.”
Yoongi should’ve expected your response, but still, it comes as a surprise to him when you cock a challenging eyebrow, flashing your tits briefly.
“Who said I’m gonna open the door?”
He presses his forehead against the cool wood, speaking through gritted teeth. Hiding his anger poorly when he bangs on the door again.
“If you don’t open this fucking door,” he seethes, ears going hot, “I will break it down and make sure you—” He cuts himself off, shuddering when he hears your laugh tinkering through the speaker and the door. A slight delay from his phone, making you sound demonic.
And that’s exactly what you were going for. You didn’t think it would be this entertaining. He looks pissed off. Face almost unrecognizable as he continues to threaten you. His cheeks are red, lips drawn back in a snarl, hair clinging to his forehead as he continues to bang on the door.
His neighbors must think he’s a psycho with the way he’s yelling your name. Telling you what he’s going to do once he gets his hands on you, which is all talk anyway. You think…Something he says does pique your interest, arousal replacing your mischief.
He runs a hand through his hair, slicked back, sexy when his tongue skims over his lower lip.
“That’s not even half of it,” he grits out, lighting going dim when he hunches over his phone, peering at you through hooded eyes, “I’ll only stop when you’re begging, until the imprint of my hand is on your ass.”
You gulp, folding your legs on the bed, “oh yeah? Have me bent over your lap?”
He brings the phone close to his face, eyes blacked out, “yes. Teach you a fucking lesson.”
“It won’t be a lesson if I like it,” you steam out, unable to stop the words which seems to push him further, rattling with the door handle.
“Angel. You’re playing with fire.”
“Maybe I don’t mind getting burnt.”
Something flickers behind his eyes, lips coming loose from between his teeth.
“Did you cum?”
The tone in his voice makes you question whether you should lie or not.
All the warning you get is his throaty laugh before he cuts the call, everything going dead silent for a few unnerving moments. You adjust your bra, grimacing as you jump off the edge of the bed, slick pooling in your panties. Hearing shuffling on the other side of the door, you reach for his hoodie hanging on a chair near the desk in time to hear the lock click in the door. You feel your stomach twist in on itself when the door hits the wall, his fingers splayed across the wood.
Standing stock still, you lock eyes with him, chest heaving when he takes one step forward. His gaze falls on the incriminating device lying on the bed behind you.
You can feel the adrenalin coursing through your veins when he stalks you against the wall, gripping your hair tight enough for his name to fall out of your lips in a pathetic whimper.
Hands hanging loosely at your sides, you gasp when he kicks your legs apart, fingers curling around your throat.
“So you don’t mind getting burnt, hmm?” His voice is deeper than usual, laced with desire and something else…something carnal.
Tentatively, you reach up to hold his sides, inhaling his exhales when his thigh presses into your clothed pussy.
You can’t help the loud gasp that tumbles out of your throat when he grabs both your wrists and slams it into the wall, holding them taut above your head. He pulls away abruptly, scanning your face as if gauging your reaction. You fall forward, trying to catch his lips in a kiss but he pushes you away harshly. Caging you in when you topple over onto the bed, head cocked to the side.
“You’re…so needy today.” It looked like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.
You find your voice, grabbing at his shoulders as you search his eyes.
“You were taking so long with work, and I got bored.”
“So,” he begins, lowering himself onto you fully, “what you’re saying is…when I’m unavailable, you’ll find entertainment elsewhere?”
You feign disinterest, “yeah.” Only realizing it was the wrong answer a little too late.
Surging forward, you try to brush off your response by peppering kisses along his jawline, but despite the stir in his abdomen, he pulls you away with his hold around your waist, tipping your head up with his free hand. He relishes in the way your body trembles under his touch when he slides his hand up your nape, finding purchase in your hair. Pupils blown, and shaking,
“Did I hear you wrong?”
Through his unrelenting grip on your hair, you fight back audaciously.
“Nope,” you pop the ‘p,’ shaking your head like a little brat, “you heard me. You don’t give me attention, I’ll have to find another way to entertain myself.” His gaze falls to your lips when you lean forward, baring your teeth, “no matter what.”
His heart thuds in his chest, a growl climbing up his throat, “is that so? You know what that’ll get you?”
You raise both your eyebrows in question, not backing down even when his fingers twist in your hair. In fact, you do something that makes his cock twitch in his pants.
“What will you do, Yoongi?”
He swallows thickly, gaze flickering between your candy lips and dark eyes.
You roll your eyes when he doesn’t answer, and he tightens his hold in your hair. He did give you a few spanks here and there. But now, he’s determined to teach you a lesson. Because he doesn’t like brats.
When your smirk turns into a playful grin, he knows you’re just teasing him. But he’s far from being playful right now. He sits up, pushing you away lightly before he sucks in a shaky breath and pulls you up with him. Now or never.
Honestly, when you first met Yoongi, you knew that a guy like him would have a sex dungeon somewhere in his mansion. Except, it’s nothing like what you imagined and from the way he keeps glancing at you, you can tell he’s nervous about your reaction. And trying to fight off his painful boner.
There’s a bed in one corner, a leather chair in another and a complex network of beams overhead. Dull yet calming lighting. You can feel it in your uterus. The man of your dreams.
There’s an unrecognizable scent in the air, which screams Yoongi. Intoxicating and heavy.
It all looks very…tame. Although the cabinets lining one side of the room are what you’re concerned about.
Trying not to look awkward, you sit down on the leather chair when he leaves the room. Once he returns, holding two black boxes, he halts in the doorway, eyes going wide when he sees you.
Perplexed, you lean back in the chair, holding up a hand, “what?”
If Yoongi wasn’t trying to keep it cool, he would’ve let all inhibitions out the window. Rip off your clothes and strap you to that chair…he feels his balls clench.
He clears his throat, setting the boxes on the small table next to the chair, “do you like it?”
Your hands slide up the armrest, head turning this way and that, “it’s nice. Comfortable.”
He folds his arms, “it’s custom made.”
Recognition passes over your features. The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile when you squeak out a small ‘oh.’
“I’ll show you in a bit but first—” he proffers the bigger box to you, hands trembling “—here.”
Still seated on the chair, you remove the lid, face remaining blank as you fold over the crepe paper. He’s going through all kinds of emotions as he watches your eyes widen, dainty fingers plucking at the leather.
“Oh. Yoongi,” you mutter, looking at him with big eyes, “what’s this?”
Having played it all out in his head, he rests one hand on your shoulder with the other dusting across your cheek, “do you like it?”
You glance at the collar, “it’s pretty.”
He smiles, “like you.”
Despite returning his smile, there’s a look of confusion lingering behind it.
“I want you to wear it.”
He grabs your hand when your fingers shake, bringing it up to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles.
“I want you.” He says, all rehearsed words forgotten as he looks down at your glazed eyes, “all of you.”
You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He bends over to wrap his arms around your shoulders just as yours reach for his back, overcome with emotions.
“I want you too.”
Grabbing your face in both hands, he kisses every inch of skin he can reach while you giggle. You turn around, combing your hair to the side as you hear it click behind you. Once he’s done, he spins you around and pulls you into bone-crushing embrace, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. You melt under him, tongue rolling into his mouth, earning muffled groans from him. Yoongi’s head might explode, he holds you impossibly close, hoisting you further up on the chair as he reaches for the lever on the side. Your tongues collide messily, touches turning greedy as he grips your hair, placing lingering, hot kisses on the column of your throat.
“I love you,” he mumbles into your skin, hooking your legs around his waist, “I fucking love you so much.”
Your breathing is strained, nails digging into his scalp, “I love you –oooh—too”
His tongue curls around your earlobe, sliding down to nip at your supple skin, tugging your hoodie lower to expose more of your flesh to his ravenous mouth. His willpower is strong, but he finds himself fighting with the urge to take you right now. And when his lips mesh with yours again, you do that thing where you suckle on his tongue, tickling the short hairs at the back of his neck, he knows he must pull away.
“I didn’t forget about what you said earlier,” he breathes, looking away when you chase his lips.
“Hmm?” Your voice is small, distracted. Black, leather collar around your neck. Fuck, he mutters. But he has to do it, while he’s riding off the happiness of finally having all of you.
You reach for the other box, “and what’s this?”
He rubs the back of his neck, voice a poor representation of his emotions, “I want you to wear it all the time.”
You gasp, “Yoongi…I would love to, but you know the company—”
He smiles, “that’s why I got you another one.”
Prying the velvet box out of your hands, eyes glued to your face, he removes the lid gingerly and watches your eyes light up.
“Oh my God, Yoongi,” you marvel, taking the heavy necklace from him, “it’s beautiful.”
Yoongi’s eyes remain crinkled as your thumb runs over the circular pendant. You don’t want to scrutinize it in front of him, but you know he wouldn’t mind. A single diamond sits in the center. Wow.
“I wanted it to be classy but simple, you know, for everyday use,” he chuckles, standing between your knees. “We’ll level up once you graduate.”
“I love it.” You exclaim, flipping the pendant over to find the words ‘Daddy’s Angel’ engraved on the other side.
Pt 999 just below.
You feel like your heart is lodged in your throat.
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you say with a crumpled voice, gaze locking with his, “I love you. And I’m so lucky to be yours.”
Just as he removes the necklace from your hold, you notice that there are diamonds encrusted in the necklace itself. He places it in the box, closing the lid and nudging it to the side. “You’re gonna wear that one for now.”
His eyes turn heady, tilting his head to the side as he lodges two fingers in the collar. Ring-clad fingers grazing your skin. You sit ramrod straight, stomach flipping when he nods secretively.
“Mhm.” You’re afraid to speak, a moan might replace your words under his assaulting gaze. His earlier words enter your mind. You were just teasing, even if you knew better.
You watch as he removes his rings one by one, clicking against the side table as he sets them down. He grabs your right hand, removing your rings in a similar fashion, then your left, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He kneels between your legs, the chair reclining slowly as he grabs your ankles. You comply without thought, watching him strap them to the chair, legs spread open.
“Did you forget about your little show earlier?”
There was a mirror in the back, why didn’t you notice that before? You’re stunned by your own reflection. Sitting in your underwear, Yoongi kneeling between your legs, grey hair tickling your inner thighs when he kisses the tiny pink bow on your white panties, leaving one for the matching bow on your bra too.
“Remember,” he cautions, rolling up his sleeves even higher, deep lighting casting a gentle glow on his handsome features, “if this ever gets too much—”
“I know, Yoongi.” You affirm, letting him push you onto your stomach, the leather molds into your skin. “I want it. Please.”
His shadow dances across your hands, free for now. He had said.
You watch his reflection, coming around the back, eyes on your ass before he turns, then whips his head around.
“The other way, angel.”
Immediately, your head snaps to the other side, cheek pressing into the leather as you stare at the door. Mahogany to match the cabinets.
“You know,” he begins, sounding a little distant, “usually, this isn’t how it would go.”
His rough palms graze your ass cheeks, spreading them open then pushing them together.
“H-how would it go?”
He gives one light test smack, humming to himself when you jolt. You hope he doesn’t misinterpret your sensitivity for fear. You don’t think you’ve been this turned on before in your entire life. You can almost hear the squelches each time you clench. And you’re sure he can hear it too.
“I’m not this…forgiving…gentle.”
“I don’t want forgiving. I don’t want gentle,” you reassure, “I told you, I want it. I need it. What you said earlier. Give it to m—ah.”
Fire trails up your lower back when he smacks your ass again, not giving you time to catch your breath when he lands three harsh smacks in quick succession, ensuring not to hit the same spot each time. He grabs the hem of your panties, pulling it up with one finger for the sodden fabric to stick to your folds, soft whimpers slipping from your lips.
“Couldn’t wait for daddy to finish his work, such a needy little thing.”
The jingle of his belt causes a shiver to run up your spine, panting when you feel the leather dust over the skin of your ass. The loud snap of the belt causes you to jump a bit, gripping the edge of the chair with anticipation. He chuckles, low and husky, taunting your flesh by running the belt over your skin.
“I think you forgot about my low tolerance for disobedience, angel.”
Your pussy clenches, tension building where the belt rests on your ass. All you hear is the belt cutting through the air before you feel it crack against your ass, pleasure rippling through you when he repeats the action.
An excited yelp breaks from your chest when the belt comes down harder on your ass, heat simmering where the leather kisses your flushed skin. You hear him growl, coming close to your center when you ask, beg for more. A satisfied grunt punctuates the snap of the belt, going faster between each whip when he hears you sob, reaching around you to grip his wrist.
Your mind becomes hazy, teeth piercing into your bottom lip as the belt comes down harder and harder each time. He doesn’t stop, seeking all the secrets you’ve kept hidden, lashing into your skin ruthlessly.
“Impatient,” he grunts, his words smoothing over you to pool in your core, “pathetic.”
You’re reeling, sighing out in delight when he grips your hands and holds it behind your back, readjusting his position to draw his hand further back, laughing sadistically when you choke out his name on a particular hard smack.
“You like it when daddy punishes you like this, hmm? Too bad you didn’t ask nicely and decided to disobey me.”
He grabbles your cheeks in his free hand, rubbing over the welts that rise with each passing second. Tremors rise up the length of your body, heated skin thrumming as he fondles your skin.
You catch sight of him curled over your back in the mirror, a sardonic twist to his lips when his tongue flicks out, grazing the shell of your ear, nipping at the column of your throat. His bulge presses against the dip in your back, throbbing as he thumbs away your tears.
“You take it so well angel,” he whispers hotly, dragging the belt between your straining legs, ankles twisting in its restraints, “but daddy’s not done yet.”
When your gaze connects with his in the mirror, he drops the belt, twirling around to rummage in one of the cabinets before he yanks your head back, hand sliding down, fingers closing around your neck. The collar digs into your skin uncomfortably when he finds a better grip, but you’re too far gone to care.
Soft fabric covers your eyes, pulled tight around your head before he relinquishes his hold on your neck, senses in a frenzy. You hear shuffling behind you, then his hand is back on your ass. Thumbs teasing your engorged clit, but still not enough. You can hear your breath escape your lips more than you actually feel it enter your lungs, ceasing in your chest.
“What’s your color?”
You’re drooling, mouth hanging open as your chest tightens when he lands two swift slaps to your abused skin, jerking forward.
“Angel. I asked you a question.”
Licking your lips, you lean up on your palms, trying to reach for him but he pushes your head down, merciless fingers digging into the back of your neck.
“G-green,” you whimper, heat licking at your abdomen. “Green.”
A low buzzing sound is heard, getting closer and closer until you’re being swiveled around onto your back, the leg rest rotating with you. Before you can process the position, cool air hits your puffy folds, lips parting in a loud shriek when he presses something hard against your clit, vibrations surging through you.
Your hands are being held together against your stomach, vibrations urging more moans to puff out of your lips in breathless whispers.
“Please, what? I thought you enjoyed using this today?”
Your hands are strapped to the chair, back arching as you feel the coil tighten in your abdomen.
“Without my permission.”
After a few moments, you hear him click his tongue, fingers plucking at your nipples. You can feel your slick drip down your folds, wet and hot as you grind down on the object but then.
To your horror, he switches it off, leaving it there between your folds as the pleasure ebbs away.
Breath stuttering in your throat, your eyes screw shut when he slaps your clit, rubbing tight circles on your throbbing bud before bringing it up to your lips. You swallow up his fingers slick with your taste, sucking on them eagerly, garbled moans slipping between each thrust. He splays his fingers across your abdomen, halting your movements when he notices that you’re still grinding down on the vibrator.
“Stop,” he orders, pulling his fingers out of your mouth then tugging down your lower lip. A splatter of his saliva falls into your mouth, free hand rolling your nipple frenetically. “Swallow. Good girl. Keep your mouth open.”
His husky voice ignites a new hunger within you, nails digging into the plush leather when you feel the blunt tip of his cock nudge your upper lip.
“Take it, that’s it.” The silk covering your eyes sticks to your skin, wet with your tears from having your end snatched away from you. And by the time he’s done thrusting into your mouth with shallow jerks of his hips, the material only gets wetter.
Yoongi’s balls slap your forehead once he grabs your neck, thumb pressing into the collar as the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat, pushing in further and keeping it there. Tight and hot, driving him to insanity.
“Fuck,” he draws his hips back, your lips pink and swollen already. He groans when your tongue flicks out to lick the underside of his cock. Quickly regaining himself, he tightens his hold around your neck, heat radiating from every inch of his skin as he fucks your throat, balls clenching at the bulge under the collar.
Molten waves of pleasure wash over him, head thrown back, muttering under his breath when you gag. His head lolls forward, seeing his cock rest on your cheek as you take strained breaths. He pulls off the silk, uncovering your eyes to see them bloodshot and pleading.
Fuck. He grips your chin, holding your mouth open before shoving his cock into your mouth, riding on the rhythm of your muffled moans.
“Look at you, letting me use your mouth like this,” he grits, pausing briefly, nerves sizzling when you hollow out your cheeks. Lewd and sloppy. Almost cumming from the sight of you looking absolutely debauched with a mouthful of his cock. “Fuck, can you hear yourself? Choking on my cock like this?”
His thrusts grow animalistic, breaths becoming ragged with your lips wrapped around his cock, more rigid as he continues to piston into your mouth.
He sees your hands twist, begging to be freed and that coupled with your tiny whimpers tips him off the edge, prolonging the pleasure with short thrusts, shooting down your throat as he catches his breath.
“Swallow it, all of it.”
And like the good girl you are, you roll out your tongue to show him that you’ve followed his orders. His cock stands tall and proud, still hard when he straddles your lap, fully clothed while you’re bare beneath him, smiling at the prospect of having his cock inside you.
He gives his cock a few tugs, rolling his palm around the head to see your glistening slit clench, the vibrator laying far away somewhere on the floor.
“Want daddy to stuff you full of his cock? Stuff this pussy with his cum?” He catches your clit between his thumb and forefinger, loving the way you squirm under him, lips in a pained frown.
“Want daddy’s cock,” you hiccup, barely managing to keep your eyes open when he sinks two fingers into your hole, fucking into his fist with the same speed.
“You love it, don’t you? When daddy uses you like his little fucktoy, hmm?” He speaks around a moan, cock twitching as he watches your boobs bounce around on your chest.
Hooking his fingers inside you, he grins when he finds that spot to hear you cry out, toes curling, mumbling incoherencies. Just when the squelches of your slick drenching his fingers drowns out your soft blabbering, walls closing around him, he pulls out. Lips stretching over his teeth as your face twists in terror.
“Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he breathes, gripping your hips harshly, rutting into the soft flesh of your tummy. Your stomach quivers under him, glazed with his precum. His nail drags down your lower lip, huffing when the familiar heat builds once again. Pleas in your eyes.
“So fucking needy, you couldn’t wait a little while longer?”
He holds onto your boobs for leverage, marveling at the way they spill out of his palms when you jut your chest out for more, mewling and begging. A droplet of sweat hits your collarbones, dripping off his hair as he hunches over you and grips the base of his cock, hot spurts of cum painting your tits and neck, some hitting your chest.
You’re trying to break of out the restraints, pussy clenching uncontrollably as he rides out his high by circling your nipple with his tip, gummy smile directed your way when you protest. You feel the blood drain from your face when you’re painfully reminded of your first night with him.
Spent and fatigued, he rolls over you, tucking his cock back inside his pants before undoing the straps on your hands and feet, feeling your indignant stare on his face.
“Yoongi…daddy. Please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, grinding into his knee but he shoves you off, hands on either side of your head as he levels you with a firm stare. Hot tears streaming down your cheeks.
“I thought I told you before, only good girls get to cum.”
With that, he tosses you the robe he had ready and unlocks the door, passing you a glance over his shoulder.
“Come, let’s get you ready for bed.”
a/n — if you liked this, please consider dropping a like/reblog or an ask if you’re shy <3
© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate
365 DAYS OF BANGTAN ♡ DAY 17/365
↳ GOLDEN DISC AWARDS 2021
platonically jealous (ksj)
check out the platonic collection masterlist
Summary- Who knew teasing Seokjin at the club would lead to such a fun punishment?
word count - 8.7k
pairing- fwb!Seokjin x Reader
genre- smut, fluff, angst, pwp
warnings- as always brattamer!seokjin, brat!reader, sadist!Seokjin, non-sexual punishment, degradation, spanking, face slapping, rough, messy sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), deep-throating, vibrator use, edging, light breathplay, hickeys, unprotected sex, aftercare, very very minor facial bruising, very feral and soft (seral if you must lol)
a.n- this is what happens when ryen tortures me with 3tan yoongi grrr. this is to torture @kithtaehyung and @sugasbabiie because why not. i love seokjin and this couple and i welcome you to my hell suite.
A big warm thank you to @triviafics and @oftenderweapons for beta reading 💕 and to @hobisuniverse for hyping me up!
As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌
You leaned against the wall next to the lecture theatre, Seokjin’s muffled voice carrying through the thick wooden doors. You wished you could be in there listening to his defence as you twirled the bouquet of daisies you had gotten him.
“Damn you got him flowers too?” Yoongi’s voice echoed through the empty hallway, his eyes squinting in the bright sun that was flowing through the large archway at the end. He came to stand next to you showing off his hand-picked bouquet from the front entrance, smirking mischievously.
“You’re gonna get in trouble for that,” you chided, unable to hide your smile as he just shrugged.
“What are they gonna do? Not let me graduate?” He joked. He had graduated four years ago and you rolled your eyes at his comment. “No one else could make it?” he continued.
“Yeah everyone’s at work. I’m sure Seokjin picked this time for that exact reason.” The two of you snickered. For someone who always made it a point to remind you that he was exceptionally handsome, Seokjin had a shy streak when it came to his achievements, always hiding them below nonchalance.
“Well aren’t we going in?” Yoongi motioned towards the large oak doors.
“Nah he said he’d get nervous,” you replied with a shrug, before pulling Yoongi back next to you when he attempted to forego your warning. He scowled at you unimpressed but after exchanging a few choice insults he backed down.
“He’d be really happy to see you,” Yoongi commented, his tone a little soft, making you scoff at his sudden tenderness.
“He’d be happier to see you. Where have you been lately?”
“Nah. The two of you are a team. I’m just a bystander,” he shrugged. You knew Seokjin was closest to Yoongi in your friend group so it made you a little sad to hear him discount himself as a bystander, even if the comment itself made you a little giddy for some reason.
Before you could counter him, you heard a muted applause behind the doors, a grin spreading on both your faces in excitement for your friend. Soon the doors were opening, a stream of professors and students walking out.
Seokjin was the last one out, still talking to his supervisor, his usual goofy demeanour nowhere to be seen. Dressed in a smart suit, he looked more like a model than a soon to be professor.
Yoongi and you quietly waited for him to finish his conversation, teeming with excitement. When the older man finally left, and the hallway emptied, Seokjin stayed put, seemingly lost in thought, brows furrowed.
“Is that Doctor Kim, I spy,” you called out, walking over to him as he turned towards you, a large smile puffing his cheeks as soon as he saw you. Whatever he was contemplating was forgotten as he ran over to you, hugging you tightly, face buried in your hair as you desperately tried not to let him ruin the bouquet you had gotten him.
“You came,” he sighed, and it finally hit him that his PhD was complete. Once his presentation was over he felt a keen sense of loss. He had been working so hard for his degree that now that it was all done, it was as if he was dropped into the middle of the ocean, surrounded by overwhelming possibilities, none of which drew him in. It made his heart uneasy, an itch embedding itself under the skin over his chest, trapping him in a chokehold.
“Of course I did,” you giggled, running your hands over his back in an effort to loosen his death grip around you, but Seokjin didn’t care, only tightening his arms. Your scent transported him from the ocean of anxiety to a meadow of contentment. All he wanted was to just hang out with you, forget the stress that was piling up all of a sudden and listen to you complain about your supervisor or your idiot lab mate or about Jimin’s recent hookup. He never understood why he never got tired of hearing your voice, but he was too tired to psychoanalyze himself – he would let you do that for him later.
“I mean I came too, but that’s okay, keep ignoring me.”
Hearing Yoongi’s voice, Seokjin jumped, letting go of you to instead wrap his arms around his other best friend, chuckling sheepishly.
“Okay get off me. I have to go to work,” Yoongi grunted, tone annoyed despite the smile on his face. He presented Seokjin with his stolen flowers before giving him another congratulation and walking away.
“You know… he thinks we don’t know how soft he is,” Seokjin commented with a grin watching Yoongi’s retreating figure as you led him in the opposite direction.
“Shh… don’t let him hear you! He’ll be grumpy all day if he knew we’ve figured him out,” you joked, unlocking your car.
“You would think he’d realize after all these years!” Seokjin exclaimed, getting in the passenger seat, sniffing the two bouquets in his hand as you buckled up.
“We all like to keep our allusions,” you snickered, reaching into the back seat to pull out a paper bag and handing it to Seokjin, who looked at you puzzled before opening it. A large grin adorned his features at the contents, his cheeks puffing and eyes disappearing.
You started the car, reversing as Seokjin devoured the pastry in almost one bite, crumbs scattered on his nice suit jacket. You knew how nervous he was. He didn’t eat before his presentation, always thinking he would end up throwing up if he did. The nerves also made him walk the forty minutes to the university instead of driving like usual. It was funny how well you knew him after all these years. Especially when you turned on the music, playing the cheesy playlist he had made back in high school, one that you had replicated on your Spotify.
“Wow this really feels like we’re sixteen again,” he sighed, watching the road pass by, the trees lining the university streets a blur in the window. “If only we had RJ then I guess it would be exactly like then,” he joked, only for you to wink at him.
“Check in the dashboard.”
It had taken you ages to think of a present for Seokjin. You usually didn’t give each other presents except for birthdays and Christmas, and even then they were mostly coupons and experiences. But Seokjin would only get his doctorate once so you racked your brain for two weeks to think of the perfect present.
The perfect present was a replica of his childhood stuffed llama that he used to carry around as a joke. Well, he said it was a joke but you all knew he had a strong attachment to the ratty toy. It still sat on his shelf, surrounded by his textbooks.
“Thought you’d wanna carry RJ around again,” you said as he pulled out the keychain that you had paid a pretty penny for an Etsy artist to make. It was worth it to see his face, mouth open in shock as he moved it around in his hands.
“This… what the fuck?” he yelled, turning towards you as he laughed. “This is perfect!”
“You may be Doctor Kim now but to me, you’ll always be the grown-ass dork that brought his toy to school.” You joined in his laughter till it petered out to a comfortable silence. The silence that only lasted about thirty seconds till your favourite song started playing and the two of you started screaming along to the lyrics.
When you smile, I melt inside
I'm not worthy for a minute of your time
I really wish it was only me and you
I'm jealous of everybody in the room
Please, don't look at me with those eyes
Please, don't hint that your capable of lies
I dread the thought of our very first kiss
A target that I'm probably gonna miss
This night's almost over
This night last forever
Singing along to pop-punk in your car threw Seokjin back to when your friendship started. An undeserved detention leading to the two of you sitting together after school to study, which then turned into getting lunch together, which then turned into you driving him to and from school in your beat-up Kia. It was exactly like you were back in eleventh grade, going to the bakery near your house to pick up snacks and then listening to the radio till it was time for your curfews.
Except this time he felt his heart skip a beat every time you grinned at him while singing. Somehow in all these years he had never thought about how important you were to him, how you had grown from your baggy band t-shirts and pink braces into someone he couldn’t live without. It made him a little uneasy, the revelation making his palms sweaty and his smile wobble. Fuck, the presentation really did make him emotional.
“And your destination has arrived,” you said, cheerfully imitating the monotonous drone of a GPS, but Seokjin couldn’t care less.
As soon as the car stopped, he called your name, waiting for you to turn towards him before crashing his lips on yours, hoping to convey the gratitude he felt. Not just for today, but for every day. For knowing him so well, for calming him, for being his biggest cheerleader.
His fingers were in your hair, pulling you impossibly close as his mouth ravished yours, leaving you a little lightheaded when you separated, a goofy grin on both your faces.
“What was that for?” you asked breathlessly, giggling at the sudden bout of affection. Even though the two of you had been sleeping together, you never just kissed randomly unless it was leading somewhere.
“For being you,” he replied, joining your lips once again, a little softer this time as if he had all the time in the world. “Come upstairs. Let me thank you properly,” he said between kisses, leaving little pecks of gratitude all over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck.
The shrill tune of your alarm broke you out of the bubble, reminding you of your appointment for the day. You apologized, pulling away to turn it off, but he only pulled you closer, letting it play as he suckled on the sensitive skin of your collarbones.
“Jinnie I have to go.”
“No,” he whined, pouting at you, too into wanting to kiss you senseless to stop now. “Come on. I’ll make it worth it. You hate Dr Bang anyways. Skip it.”
“Um… I actually have a date,” you replied, your words making him move away from you in confusion.
“You have a date,” he parroted, not understanding why he felt so disappointed. “With who?”
“Jiho? He’s my lab mate, remember?” You didn’t know why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden, but Seokjin looked like a kicked puppy and somehow the butterflies you had felt when Jiho had smoothly asked you for lunch yesterday seemed to have disappeared.
“Jiho?” Seokjin asked, trying to recall who you were referring to till it dawned on him. “Woo Jiho? Zico?! You’re going out with the guy who makes everyone call him Zico? The stupid SoundCloud rapper?”
“Okay that’s just a hobby,” you defended. “And he’s not an idiot. He’s doing his masters!”
“He’s only doing it to get pussy!”
“Oh my god, Seokjin,” you laughed. Sure Jiho might have said that was the reason he decided to pursue human sexuality as a graduate degree but he was incredibly smart and you were sure he was joking. “Why are you so upset?”
“I just thought today was my day,” he whined, crossing his arms, making you coo at him.
“Aww, and it still is!” you exclaimed, hugging him to get him out of his mood. “I’m just taking a short detour and we will all be together tonight at the club.”
“Boo,” he pouted.
“Come on big boy. I’ll give you a mean blowie for your patience.”
“Ew don’t call it that. Just know you’ll be punished for ignoring me,” he smirked, brain thinking of scenarios to make you lose your mind.
“Goodbye Dr Kim,” you sang just as he gathered his stuff, tongue sticking out in your direction and walking out.
It felt as if you were at the top of the world when you entered the club, bright neon lights setting your white dress aglow as you sauntered towards the VIP section. Bless Taehyung and his fat modern artist wallet!
“Ayo the queen has arrived!” Namjoon hollered as you entered, waving at him demurely as if you really were a queen before settling into the plush couch.
“I think queens can buy their own drinks then, can’t they?” Taehyung teased, keeping the bottle of tequila away from you as you pouted.
“Come on TaeTae! If I don’t get drunk, who's going to wingman you? Those ugly shoes aren’t going to get you any action.” You smiled widely as your friend scowled at you, despite pouring you a shot and sliding it in your direction.
“These are FENDI!” he defended only to get the whole group booing at him and throwing napkins. “Hey, I booked this place for you assholes!”
“And we are forever grateful,” Seokjin chimed in, coming off the dance floor, looking impeccably delicious in a white button-down stretched over his obscenely broad shoulders and black pants that highlighted his long legs. It didn’t help that the dancing had helped him work up a sweat that glistened on his forehead, reminding you of how he looked when he was making a mess out of you. The three drinks you had chugged while doing your makeup must have been catching up to you because you were about to rip his clothes off right there in the booth.
“Alright children! Me and Lil are getting antsy. Let’s shoot it up and dance it off,” Hoseok proclaimed to a bunch of eye rolls at his terrible phrasing, including another napkin toss from Yoongi who just sulked on the couch, his girlfriend high fiving him. Regardless of the lukewarm response, drinks were slammed back and soon most of your friends were on the dance floor.
It didn’t take long for you to zero in on Seokjin, the man dancing with someone you didn’t recognize while Jimin spun you around. You hated how much it bothered you that he was grinding on someone else, his pelvis meeting her behind as a possessive rage took you over.
Jimin noticed your distracted stare, smirking to himself as he slowly moved the two of you closer to your target. When he was sure Seokjin had a full view of you, he pulled you to his chest, moving his body along with yours, his hands gripping your hips. You giggled at his not so veiled attempt, enjoying the attention as you let the alcohol flow through you, and before you knew it you were being pulled back into another chest, the familiar scent of sandalwood basking your senses.
Grinning, you turned around to see Seokjin raising a brow at you, but you paid him no mind, running a hand down his chest to his crotch. He seemed a little hard and for some reason the knowledge that the stranger he was dancing with had that effect on him made you mad, your smile dropping as you pulled away from him.
But Seokjin wasn’t one to give up, tightening his grip, his hands landing squarely on your ass.
“Where you going? Don’t wanna dance with me, baby,” he murmured, his breath on your ear eliciting goosebumps, but you just pushed him away, going back to the table. Another shot seemed to be a great idea.
“Hey Joonie,” you exclaimed, placing yourself on his lap as Seokjin made his way over as well, eyeing you playing with your friend's hair as he blushed.
“Someone’s drunk,” Namjoon commented, giggling as you poured the two of you another drink.
“Not yet,” you sang, clinking your glass to his and downing your shot, the burn making you giddy. Namjoon’s arms rested politely on your waist and soon the two of you were deep in conversation about his work crush, a six-foot man who seemingly thought that Namjoon’s flirting was just friendship.
Except Seokjin didn’t know about your innocent conversation, seething in the corner as he watched you laughing and hitting Namjoon on the chest. He knew he shouldn’t be threatened, that Namjoon and you were just friends, but wasn’t that what you and Seokjin were too? Just friends who turned each other on?
He shouldn’t be territorial but you leaving him only to perch yourself on Namjoon’s lap left him bitter. It didn’t help that you seemed to know exactly what you were doing, sneaking glances and giggling at the evident annoyance on his face. However, his bitterness increased tenfold when a new face appeared at the booth.
“If it isn’t my beautiful date!” Jiho exclaimed, moving towards you, a hand held out to pull you off Namjoon’s lap. You followed, standing up and letting him crush you into a hug.
Jiho wasn’t a bad guy. He was interesting, ambitious, talented, and friends with most of your friends. It’s just that the date had been subpar, the two of you running out of topics much too fast and the chemistry being nonexistent.
But all that was forgotten as you stared at Seokjin from behind Jiho’s back, his eyes boring holes into where his hand rested on the small of your back, his jaw tightening in reflex. So you played it up, invited Jiho to your table, ran your hand down his chest coyly, held his thigh as you laughed at his not too funny jokes. All the while enjoying the way Seokjin was fuming.
When you stood up to go to the bathroom, Seokjin was on your heels, pulling you into a corner as soon as the two of you were out of view.
“You really think he’s gonna fuck you as good as me,” he gritted, his dominant tone making you shiver as his hands gripped your waist.
“Aw Jinnie you jealous?” you mocked, pinching his cheek.
“Stop it! It’s my day! Why did you invite him?” His sneer made you laugh, loving how you were riling him up, excited to see the fruits of your efforts once you got to your place or his at the end of the night.
“He was nice! Don’t tell me you don’t like sharing,” you teased, pouting up at his narrowed eyes.
“Oh, you want to be a brat?” Seokjin smiled, his anger replaced by a Cheshire grin that had you on the edge, panties wet in anticipation. “I can play this game better than you, baby.”
“Sure you can, Seokjinnie!”
And just like Seokjin had beat you at every stupid bet the two of you had ever made, it seemed that once the cards were on the table, he had full control of the game. After you came back from the bathroom, Seokjin was like a different man, no longer seething nor searching for you. Instead, he was the picture of calm, laughing around with the group and drinking as if you had no effect on him. No matter how much you flirted with the other guys, no matter how many times you giggled at Jiho’s jokes, Seokjin paid you no mind.
It was as if you didn’t exist. And it had you annoyed. So, of course, you changed tactics, focusing your energy on the man in question instead.
Moving to his side of the booth, you snuggled up to him, pouting at him for attention. Something he refused to give you, no matter how weak he was to the lift of your lips and the widening of your eyes.
“I’m sorry Y/N, can you move? Yoongi was just about to tell me about his new artist,” Seokjin said, sliding you away as Yoongi took your spot, the latter being too drunk to notice you cursing him with your eyes.
No matter how hard you tried, Seokjin refused to acknowledge you. So, the mood thoroughly soured, you took another shot and went to the dance floor, swaying with Jimin and Jungkook till the last call.
Even when your group was settling the bill, the music slowly coming to an end, Seokjin refused to talk to you, instead even chatting with Jiho who had annoyingly stuck around with your group till the end. Seeing your frown, Jungkook attempted to cheer you up, doing impressions till you were laughing, clutching on to him to catch your breath.
If Seokjin didn’t want to fuck you tonight, it was okay. You had better things to do, such as go over to Namjoon’s and play the stupid video game that you both were terrible at. They do say practice makes perfect.
Joking with the group, you made your way outside, the chill of the night making you shiver and sobering you up as you all waited for your rides. Perhaps you could sleep on Namjoon and Taehyung’s couch instead of gaming.
“Hey Y/N. Come I’ll drop you guys off on the way home,” Hoseok said, bending a little to meet your eyes as he smiled at you warmly. You giggled in response, walking towards him but before you could get even a few steps ahead, an arm hooked around your waist, pulling you against a strong chest.
“No worries Hobi. I got her,” Seokjin waved with a wide smile, walking you towards the Uber that was waiting for him. You couldn’t help but grin, waving to your group as he guided you in the car before settling next to you. It seemed as if his earlier indifference had disappeared and so you took the opportunity to drape yourself over him, your lips meeting his neck as you kissed the skin, tasting the sweat.
However, instead of returning your advances, he pushed you away, buckling your seatbelt, without a word. You huffed crossing your arms, getting exceedingly tired of the whole silent treatment.
“Seokjinnie! Stop being mean,” you pouted, tracing your hand up his thigh. “Come on. Give me something. I know you want to.”
You smiled as you felt him tense but he ignored you yet again, opting to make mindless conversation with the driver instead. But you were undeterred, your caresses reaching higher and higher till you were all but massaging his bulge through his tight pants. Finding him half-hard, you smirked, continuing your ministrations till he had no choice but to grab your wrist. The scowl on his face only stroked the fire within you as did the way his other hand reached up to grab your chin, the pressure of his fingers prying your lips open lewdly.
Before you could do anything, he leaned over, letting a glob of saliva fall on your tongue, your eyes widening at the foreign feeling. He looked at you down his nose, disdain painting his features and making your panties wetter as he released you, roughly pushing you back into your seat.
“Swallow,” he commanded, voice gruff, and he mirrored your gulp as you followed his instructions. “Now shut the fuck up till we get home.”
With that, he was back to talking to the driver, who seemed completely unfazed by the exchange, while you sat still, face heating up and heart pounding. You knew he was going to punish you when you got to his place and the anticipation already had you on edge. You really should tease him more often.
When the car stopped at his place, you thought he was going to revert back to his usual self, but he remained quiet, barely waiting for you to get out before he was walking through the lobby to the elevator. Even in the elevator, there were no hungry kisses, just silence and it made you nervous. He couldn’t actually be mad, right? He had to know you were just being a brat for the foreplay. Right?
Inside the foyer, you bent down to take off your heels, only for him to yank you back into a standing position by your hair, his chest moulded to your back and his breath ghosting your cheek. You could feel the anticipation lighting your nerves. Finally.
“You think you’re pretty smart, aren’t you?” he questioned, his hands now kneading your sides as he pulled you closer, lips landing a reassuringly gentle peck on your shoulder. “Thinking you could rile me up with your stupid antics.”
“Looks like it worked, didn’t it?” You smirked, grinding your ass on him, pleasantly delighted to find him already hard. You expected him to throw another insult your way, but instead, his hands skimmed your body to rest against your chest, groping the flesh tightly.
“Where’s this dress from?”
“H&M… why?” you asked, confused by the sudden shift to fashion.
With that monosyllabic response, he reached your collar, gripping the fabric and, with a strength you didn’t think he possessed, he tugged. The fabric dug into your skin, making a whimper escape your lips, but he just chuckled darkly before tugging even harder till it ripped straight down the middle. Before you had time to even gasp he was doing the same to your panties, leaving them in scraps on the ground.
“Not the bra! It’s expensive!” you yelled, only to get a petulant huff in response. However, Seokjin heeded your concerns, carefully taking the lacy fabric off and then not so carefully tossing it aside, leaving you dressed only in the torn remains of your dress dangling on your shoulders.
He grabbed your jaw, fingers digging in, making your lips pucker as he leered at you. Turning your head towards him, he kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth without any prelude, making you quiver in his hold as his other hand squeezed your chest. With a hard nip to your bottom lip, he pulled at the flesh, eliciting a whine from you before letting go.
“Did you have fun pretending?” he asked, teeth leaving roses on your neck, and fingers pinching your nipples. Seokjin knew he had no reason to get angry or possessive — you were both just in it for the sex — but the image of you grinding with that loser from your program made him livid. It was petty and stupid, but he wanted to ruin you, make sure no one else could ever compare to what he gave you, make you scream his name.
“Pretending?” you moaned, leaning against him, no longer caring about your ruined clothes and only about the way your pussy clenched as he marked your skin, arousal thrumming through you.
“Pretending anyone else could fuck you this good,” he grunted, suddenly impatient as he wound his arms around your waist and lifted you up. You teetered precariously, head ducking on instinct to avoid the ceiling that was still much further away, but his hold was strong as he carried you the short distance to his bedroom and carelessly tossed you face down on the bed. He discarded the remains of your dress before pulling your hips up, enjoying the pliant way you followed his silent commands. He could see how wet you were already and he couldn’t wait to punish you for your little show.
Leaving you ass up and face down on the bed, he stood, commanding you to stay still as he thought about how best to torture you. He could go the simple route, spank you till you blew up his phone the next day with complaints about being unable to sit, or he could edge you till you cried and begged for his dick. Grabbing the vibrator you had left here after one of your previous sessions, he decided to do the latter, and feeling extra petty he also mentally added an extra stipulation to add to the torture he had planned.
When you heard no movement from him for a while, you turned around, only for his hand to land harshly on your ass, leaving a red imprint.
“Did I say you could fucking move?”
The tone of his voice matched his hand as he left a matching imprint on the other cheek, harsh and unforgiving.
“Now, you’ve pissed me off tonight, baby. You were such a spoiled brat today, you know that?” he hummed condescendingly as he spread you open, taking his time just to watch the way you dripped for him, biting his lip, before spitting, letting his saliva drop between your cheeks, mesmerized by the way it travelled from your asshole to your cunt, the two twitching in unison at the sensation. You could only moan in response, skin flushing from your cheeks to your chest.
He was slow, mapping your skin with his eyes before suddenly diving face first into you, lips trapping your clit immediately, making you jolt. Your legs quivered as his nose parted your folds ever so slightly, his hands still holding on to each of your cheeks, fingers digging into the flesh.
You couldn’t help the loud groan that escaped you, released from deep within your chest as your fingernails grabbed at his sheets for purchase. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you tried to control the relentless shivers running up your spine at his actions, his lips suctioning your clit in bursts that had you quickly tethering towards the edge.
Seokjin relished your helplessness, his nails scraping at your skin, giving you no reprieve. And right when he knew you were about to cum, he pulled back, standing up, but not before spanking you again, watching your ass jiggle one more time.
A hand in your hair, he pulled you up and hooked his arm around your waist to drag you off the bed and into the kitchen, while you furrowed your brows at the sudden change in venue.
Chuckling darkly at your confusion he planted you at the island, bending you over so your feet were far apart and your ass was in the air. Asking you to stay still, he refused to tell you his plans as he rummaged in one of his lower cabinets, even though he kept a hand on your calf to grant you some semblance of an assurance, thumb gently caressing the skin.
“I think it’s about time you learn some patience, don’t you?” he sneered as he placed an array of random items in front of you — a small bowl, a pair of chopsticks, and a handful of uncooked rice — only increasing your confusion.
“Shut the fuck up,” he sang unkindly with a condescending pat of your head before walking to stand in front of you, on the other side of the island.
“Pick up the chopsticks,” he instructed, leaning casually on the counter as if you weren’t bent over completely naked for his viewing pleasure. You watched his eyes light up as you followed his command, warmth flowing through you at his obvious eagerness. “Now I want you to pick up each grain and drop it in the bowl. One by one.”
“Go on,” he coaxed when you just stared at him dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?” you asked, a little exasperated at the stupid task he had assigned you. After a night of teasing and the denied orgasm, all you wanted was to fuck him, have him spank you till you couldn’t walk. You didn’t want to sort fucking rice.
Seokjin grunted at your insolence, a little growl escaping the back of his throat as he grabbed your face with one of his large hands, making your lips pucker just like he did when you walked in his door.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” he questioned, jaw clenched and an eyebrow raised. When you nodded, stomach flipping, he smiled, letting go of you and gently slapping your cheek. “Now do as I ask.”
Huffing petulantly, you picked up the chopsticks, struggling to grab a grain as Seokjin stared, grinning unabashedly. Before you were even close to dropping it in the bowl, the grain escaped falling onto the counter, Seokjin cackling evilly. Your instincts were to whine at him till he realized that you were not game for this silly thing but the challenging look in his eye made your overachieving, stubborn self pop out.
Tongue between your teeth, you bent down further, resting your elbows on the counter as you picked up the grain once again, hands shaking a little from the sudden nerves. Speeding up you tossed it in the bowl, grinning triumphantly at your best friend who seemed a little disappointed that you had caught on so quickly. Once one grain was in the bowl, the others followed, and slowly but surely you were filling the bowl all while smiling smugly at Seokjin’s scowl.
He huffed when you were halfway done, pushing himself off the counter and disappearing into his bedroom. Although your instincts said to follow him, you were too stubborn to abandon the task before you, too stubborn to not want to complete it and mock him for giving you such an easy punishment.
Concentrating on moving the rice, you moved quicker, eager to finish this little game to get to the real fun. However, just when you had about six or seven grains left, you felt him behind you, a finger caressing your spine in an effort to distract you. Rolling your eyes at his weak attempt, you ignored him, shrugging him off with a wiggle to continue.
Now Seokjin is a great friend, he always listens to your rants, cooks you dinner, goes out drinking with you even when he hates it, and, of course, gives you great sexual experiences. But Seokjin is also petty, and a sadist, and sometimes just downright evil, so with a crook of his brow at your antics and a hand splayed on the small of your back, he pushed the vibrator between your legs - unrelenting and hiked to the highest setting.
Your brain didn’t even have a chance to protest, flooding with sudden endorphins at the move, a would-be scream muted into a gasp at his actions. The chopsticks fell from your hands at the sudden jolt, your eyes squeezing shut as he continued his assault.
“Didn’t want you to get too bored,” he commented calmly, lips tracing your shoulder leaving behind palpable heat that radiated off your skin onto his grin. “Keep going, brat.”
A bite to your neck punctuated his command, jolting you into action as you once again grabbed the chopsticks and willed your legs to stop shaking. The once easy task seemed impossible now that Seokjin had decided to take it up a notch. If it was just the vibrator pushed up against you, maybe you would have been able to zone it out, focus on capturing the little grains between the metal sticks, but Seokjin was in rare form tonight, marking your neck and rotating the head of the wand in random patterns so you had no reprieve from the pleasure thrumming through you.
Every time you dropped a grain in he changed up something. From varying the pressure of the vibrator to teasing your nipples, he ensured that you were slowly but surely climbing to the edge. Your whines were pretty much constant at this point, reverberating through his kitchen as you struggled to finish his ridiculous punishment through teary eyes.
By the time you picked up the last grain, your orgasm was looming, the pressure in your core increasing as he kept up his ministrations. Coupled with the sense of accomplishment that was rising as you moved the rice closer to the now full bowl, you knew this would be one of the best orgasms you had ever had. Except, so did Seokjin.
Just as you were about to drop the rice, he pulled away from you, stopping your orgasm in its tracks as your legs gave way from the sheer disappointment of being edged again. In an attempt to gain balance, you also knocked over the bowl causing it to spill the fruits of your hard work all over the counter.
“No!” you cried, body draped over the counter as you stared at the spilt rice with a wobbly pout. You hated that you had just ruined all your hard work, your competitive streak flaming out into overbearing helplessness. Something not helped by your best friend who seemed to be in an unusually mean mood.
“Wow. How pathetic,” he sneered rudely, pulling you by the hair to make your heaving body stand upright. Seokjin didn’t know why he was taking such joy in torturing you but every time he thought about going a little easier all he could see was you at the club leaning against him and taunting him, making him hard only to go dance with some other guy - the guy who took you on a date. It lit a fire in him like no other. A fire that made him harder than he had ever been, especially paired with the way you looked at him pleadingly with tear lined eyes.
“Aw are you gonna cry?” he asked, tone void of any compassion as he turned you towards him. When you just pouted at him, he grabbed your jaw, exaggerating the pout and sucking it between his lips, swallowing your little whimper.
The kiss was overwhelming, all teeth and tongue and heat that made your toes curl and hands clutch his shirt. It made you forget all about the rice, all about your lost orgasm, about everything that wasn’t him.
“Please,” you whined through your forced pout when Seokjin bit your bottom lip and tugged it towards him. His hand left your jaw to pull at your nipple, the other hand wrapping tighter around your waist. He chuckled, relentlessly holding your lip between his teeth and looking down his nose at your struggle, opting to no longer ask if you needed to use your safe word. It was clear from your grip on his shirt and your hips canting against him that you were relishing his control over you.
“Can’t even do a simple task,” he tsked, finally letting your swollen lips rest. His head moved back, eyes inspecting you with a condescending gaze that only made you squirm more. Before long he was moving away, grabbing your hand and pulling you back towards his bedroom. “Let’s see if you can even suck dick properly,” he added with a mocking sigh, losing his pants and jumping on the bed.
You salivated at the sight, his shirt unbuttoned as he rested against the headboard, cock glistening with precum. He might have mocked you since you entered his home, but you knew that it was your effect on him that had him his hard, regardless of how nonchalant he might seem. Perhaps it was your turn for revenge.
“Are you just gonna stare like a dumb slut or are you going to get on with it?” he asked, an eyebrow raised, jarring you into running to the bed and planting yourself between his legs.
You didn’t need another jibe from him to get started, your tongue licking up his generous length as he stared down at you. You flicked your tongue every time you reached the tip, watching the way his abs clenched at each flick and his scowl deepened at your teasing. Licking at his head you dipped your tongue into his slit, relishing the taste of him, running over each crevice as his hand moved to your hair, gripping the strands in warning. A warning you refused to heed even when he vocalized it, sucking just the tip, eyes on his, enjoying his slowly cracking facade.
“I said stop fucking teasing,” he reiterated, fire burning in his eyes but all you did was smirk, taking him in as deep as you could a few times before continuing to lick at the tip, making sure your tongue was visible. You wanted him as needy as he had made you. If he could make you keen, you would do the same.
However your plans were stopped in their tracks before they even started, Seokjin pulling you off him by your hair till you were face to face, his free hand clasped around your neck. “What did I fucking say?” he snarled, grip tightening, slowing your blood flow and making you hazy.
When you didn’t respond he tossed you beside him, climbing over and burying himself inside you in one swift motion. You could feel your entire body erupt in goosebumps at his actions, a strong shiver racing through you as you clenched around him. He felt so big, stretching you out as he glared at you, his weight cushioning you to the mattress. You couldn’t help but move your hips — the wrong move judging by the way his eyes narrowed to slits and his hold on your throat got stronger.
“Stay fucking still,” he grunted, only to get a mewl in response as you continued trying to fuck yourself on him. You couldn’t help it, he felt so good that all you wanted was more, a chorus of his name echoing through your brain like an incantation.
Before you knew what happened you felt your head snap to the side, your left cheek burning deliciously and a moan escaping your lips. His hand moved from your neck to your jaw, thumb tracing your lips as you looked up at him in a daze, your pussy clenching around him.
“Sorry,” you whined, begging for more. He remained still, however, only letting his thumb slip past your lips pushing down on your tongue, turning your pleading into a garbled mess of words.
“Such a fucking ungrateful brat,” he gritted out landing another two slaps on your cheek as he lost his patience. He always could control himself but seeing your needy eyes and the way you sucked his thumb made him lose it, starting at a brutal pace.
His every thrust was accompanied by another slap to your cheek, making you scratch at his back as you tried to keep from drifting into space. You had never experienced such pleasure before, the sting on your cheek coupled with the stretch of your walls had you wanting to explode, floating outside of your body. Gone was the brat who thought she could get away with teasing Seokjin, all you wanted was his mercy, for him to let you cum.
“Please… please… can I?” you whimpered, your eyelids fluttering, blurry vision filled with your best friend heaving above you, sweat marring his brows as his hips collided with yours. You couldn’t take it anymore, heart banging against your ribcage in time with the headboard colliding with the wall.
“No one gets to fuck my brat, right?” he panted, hands cupping your face as he looked at you, not knowing where the sudden possession came from. All he knew was that he never wanted anyone to look at you as he was looking now – never wanted to share the vision that was you sweaty and messy under him, hair matted to your forehead, face flushed, tears flowing. You were perfect, the most perfect person he had ever met and his mind was flooded with a chant of your name.
“No one,” you whined, at your wit’s end, your orgasm so close that you were losing any semblance of reality, on a tightrope strung above a black abyss of pleasure, just waiting to dive in. “Your brat… just your brat.”
“Cum for me,” he groaned, your words ramping him up faster than he had anticipated, and just as you clenched around him, a loud high-pitched whine escaping you, he couldn’t help jumping off the tightrope with you, his senses cloudy and his arms winding around your shoulders in an attempt to calm your shivers.
He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling into your neck, inhaling your sweet scent as he tried to calm his heart rate. He could’ve stayed there forever, but just a few minutes later, you were calling his name, pulling him away from you.
Leaning on his forearms, he looked at you, your frown worrying him, but before he could ask any questions, your lips were on his, mouths melding together in a gentle kiss that had his heart melting in his chest. He turned sideways, an arm reaching under your head and the other pulling your leg to drape over him, his lips never letting yours go.
Lying there next to you, he didn’t know how to make sense of his emotions, or the way his heart wanted to escape him and settle next to yours. He was sure it was the endorphins from one of the best orgasms of his life – that the reason he was feeling so invigorated and mushy was that he had never had sex with anyone like he just did with you, almost bordering on feral.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips, arms winding tighter around you and you couldn’t help reciprocate the action, adding a kiss to his nose for good measure. “I didn’t mean to take it that far.”
“Shh… you were amazing,” you replied, too tired to think as you lifted your hand to move some of his hair from his eyes, lightly scraping his scalp and making him smile softly. You knew he wanted to talk, but the mind-blowing orgasm he had just bestowed on you still had you loopy, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into him and fall asleep. And for once, Seokjin didn’t argue, only kissing you once more, before using his foot to toss the comforter close enough so he could pull it over the two of you.
Sleep seemed like the best thing to do.
Seokjin awoke to the sound of the shower, your sweet singing voice serenading him with an oddly bluesy version of Oops I Did It Again. Turning on to his back, he stared at the ceiling, letting the events of last night come back to him. In the morning sun, the cloud of lust dissipated, leaving the cold reality of just how unhinged he had become over the idea of you and Jiho together.
He didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he wanted to be with you in that sense. He liked what the two of you had – a friendship that sometimes involved sex. It was convenient, a perfect blend of experimentation and trust that he didn’t want to spoil with the pressure of a relationship. It also helped that you had never hinted at one, always playful, your dynamic never changing. He hated that he was suddenly having these feelings, suddenly wanting to convince you to consider being exclusive with him, at least sexually.
Sighing, he sat up, tossing his crumpled shirt aside and putting on his boxers and glasses before going to the kitchen. Cleaning up the mess of rice from the counter, he started on breakfast, heating up some leftover soup and putting some fish under the grill, and some rice in the rice cooker. After starting the kettle for some instant coffee, he set the table, the routine giving him time to think about how to phrase his requests, every iteration seeming stupid, his mind full of various ways you’d reject him.
Soon you were done with your shower, walking over to him as he poured hot water into the coffee. Seeing him lost in thought as he stirred the cup made you giggle. The sound of your voice startled him, making him almost spill the coffee, hands clawing in front of him. The look on his face only exacerbated your giggles, turning them into cackles as you grabbed your cup and took a sip, sighing contentedly.
“Wow,” you commented, your stomach growling at the spread on the table. The headache you had woken up to ebbed away thanks to the warm shower and now the delicious smell emanating from the Seokjin’s home cooking. This was perhaps your favourite part of his aftercare routine.
“Let me look at you,” Seokjin said, ignoring your comment as he stood next to you, fingers lightly tracing the cheek he had abused the night before. There were no marks, just a faint red spot that seemed to be fading, but he couldn’t help the way his heart lurched, rushing to grab a heat pack, fussing about not icing it the night before and falling asleep too soon.
“Jinnie, it’s fine.”
Your protests were in vain as he gingerly placed the warm compress on your cheek, the towel smelling like fresh lavender that made you relax. You let him coddle you, knowing it was as much for him as for you. Once satisfied with you holding the compress to your face, he started feeding you, piling your spoon high with rice and fish, and shovelling it in your mouth till you were annoyed, mouth ballooned like a chipmunk.
“Too much,” you said through a mouthful and Seokjin had the audacity to laugh, cooing at your expression as he ate himself, ignoring your scowl.
“So we didn’t use protection last night,” you commented after a while of eating in silence, amusingly watching Seokjin choke on his food, a fist hitting his chest as he reached for the water.
“Fuck! I am so sorry! I don’t know what-” he started only to be cut off by your laugh.
“It’s okay Jinnie. I’m on birth control.”
“Still! That should’ve been a discussion. Fuck. I swear I don’t have anything and I haven’t slept with anyone since we started our thing and I am so so so fucking sorry. I swear it will never happen again. Cross my heart and hope to choke to death,” he ranted, literally crossing his heart with a finger, but all you could focus on was one part of his tirade.
“You… you haven’t slept with anyone else?” Seokjin wasn’t a saint by any account. In fact, he was notorious in your friend group for being “sexually liberated”, bedding different women each time you all went out. So the fact that he had not slept with anyone in the months you had been sleeping together was bizarre. What was more bizarre was how giddy the declaration made you.
“I… I didn’t want to,” Seokjin mumbled, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at his bowl sheepishly, ears flaming red, before looking up at you. “Have you?”
Seokjin didn’t want to hear the answer but his curiosity was at an all-time high. It really shouldn’t affect him if you slept with others during the past few months. He trusted you. He wasn’t worried about catching any STDs, but his heart was beating harder in anticipation. It was silly. He was being silly. You were his best friend, he should just ask you if you wanted to make this BFWB thing exclusive. Why was he so scared?
“Nope,” you replied, taking a sip of the soup, letting it warm you up. “So we’re not sleeping with anyone else?”
“Looks like we’re not.” Seokjin felt his anxiety yield into a calm relief, and he decided to ignore the feeling, instead focusing on cutting up some more fish to eat.
“Do you want to continue not sleeping with anyone else?”
“Yes!” Seokjin blurted, before clearing his throat and trying to calm his excitement a little, a smile making its way to his lips. “I mean… if you want? You sure you don’t wanna date?”
“We can still date!” Your laugh pierced through him, wiping the smile off his face before he could muster it back on. “We’ll just tell each other if it gets serious.”
“Of course! Duh! That’s what I meant,” Seokjin covered up his blunder, pretending it was his plan all along and hoping that maybe Yoongi could shed some light on why he was so dejected all of a sudden. He knew he didn’t want to date you. Dating your best friend was just stupid, it didn’t make sense to risk such a healthy relationship.
However, as you told him about how your date with Jiho and how your supervisor was overworking you yet again, he couldn’t help but zone out, his thoughts full of reasons as to why he was sad that you had suggested the same thing he was about to anyway.
taglist: @kithtaehyung, @missgeniality @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @codeinebelle, @sugasbabiie, @ressjeon, @lavienjin
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sweet night | kth
Pairing: Taehyung x reader (dance instructors!au, enemies to lovers)
Genre: fluff, romance
Summary: You finally address the incessant teasing of your fellow dance instructor Kim Taehyung.
Warnings: mentions of self-doubt, she calls him a bully but he's not, suggestive but not really?
A/N: thank you @notyouroppar betaing my fic and letting me live to see another day <3 I don't know why Taehyung is such a difficult one for me but this one did actually come quite naturally to me! This is a drabble request (yes I am still going through them and I am so sorry for being late I really am I promise I will be quicker with them!) Drabble that is 3k long, so a fake drabble as my beta likes to call them.
Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner
Requests are currently closed but I would love to hear from you so please leave me a message! 💌
Words that would haunt you forever. Words that you’d heard from more than one person; your teachers had told you that in the past, your family had too. Yet, for some reason, every time those words came to mind, they would echo in your head in a particular individual’s voice. Kim Taehyung. A fellow dance instructor and your arch nemesis.
“Shut it, no one asked you,” that would be your normal response. Your go to phrase whenever he would yell at you in the middle of practice. He would thrive off of your little squabbles, drawing attention to himself, and indulge in the pleasure of bringing you down every time that happened.
That wasn’t the case today. Today you were determined to have a good day. Ready to conquer the world. You took a few tips and tricks from internet searches on how to fend off any weeds. Because in your eyes, that’s all that Kim Taehyung would be. A thorn in your backside.
Thinking back on it, maybe you were exaggerating— most certainly you were exaggerating. He’d never done anything particularly harmful to you, or anyone else. He was just particularly good at singling you out and making a fool of you. Or rather… making you react like a fool. He would tease you until your skin was clammy, and your composure melted into a flustered mess. Sometimes, you’d have your class behind you, during your shared lessons. Everyone knew to be ready to fend you off, or pull you away, when the situation became particularly prickly.
Today, you had no one. It was a long weekend and most of your students had gone home to spend time with family. It was just youf and your trusted enemy, Taehyung.
“No one asked you to intrude on my studio time either,” he commented, putting his bag onto the floor. Not sparing you a second glance he started stretching, humming a tune that only played in his head.
You could feel the pricks of annoyance crawling up your spine. Before you could respond in kind, he indulged in a longer stretch. Arms as high as they could go, and exposing half his abdomen to you. Your mouth went dry; any thought of rebuttal wiped out.
The hoodie he had draped over him tried its best to hold on, but his height and his determination to get a good stretch in won. Trying to not ogle at him, you pretended to stretch your own calf. The sight of your own appearance made you wince. The slight sheen of sweat that covered your skin gave your body a dewy glow. You would have dared to say you were shining bright like a diamond, if not for your hair in disarray all over your forehead and the slight adrenaline filled look in your eyes.
No wonder Taehyung didn’t carry on in arguing with you. You looked as if you’d gotten into a fight and won. The pang of pride at the thought made your mouth quirk.
You could have patted yourself on the back for being so effective at ignoring him—and his half dressed state. But when a loud sound akin to a moan reached your ears, you perked up, your eyes immediately landing on him.
“What are you doing?” Prompted by his peculiar position, the words flew past your lips before you could stop them. Seated, with his legs apart, he was struggling to reach his foot, each time he got closer a lewd sound would grumble from his chest and throughout the studio. Trying to ignore the butterflies causing a ruckus in your stomach at the sound, you watched him wearily.
“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just imitating you,” he responded, having the audacity to dismiss you with a wave of his hand.
Staring at him with an incredulous look on your face, you decided that enough was enough. You’ve been taking this from him for a few years now, your two dance groups never had the chance to get along because their leaders never did.
“Why do you hate me so much?” you asked, deciding to not sugarcoat anything. When he paused mid stretch to glance back at you, you closed your mouth and swallowed hard. His hand momentarily hovered halfway to his foot, before he got up and stalked towards you. You felt nervous, suddenly too flustered to continue with your prepared rant.
“What?” his audacity to not only question his behaviour, but also dare to sound appalled made your blood boil.
“You heard me, why do you hate me so much?” The more you let your mind wander towards all the instances he’d made you feel unwelcome by singling you out, the more you wanted him to explain himself to you. “I’ve never done anything to bother you, so why?”
“Exactly,” he answered simply, his body mere centimetres away from yours. “Why do you keep ignoring me?” he fired back.
“Because you are loud-mouthed, uncaring, and stubborn,” you immediately responded, without a thought. “And you are pretending to be the best dance instructor out there, when we all know it is not the case.” You knew you’d aimed for the belt when his mouth twitched downwards at your comment. Feeling the familiar tendrils of guilt rush up your spine you cleared your throat. Under normal circumstances you would thrive at the thought of trumping over your squabbles, but this time you knew you’d overstepped the line. He may pick on your technique as an individual dancer, but he’d never made a move to ridicule your skill as a dance instructor.
“I-I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you mumbled, the words tasting foreign on your tongue. Taehyung was silent, watching you silently as you squirmed under his gaze and the added pressure of guilt.
“It’s part of your charm, and I accept that,” he shrugged eventually, his hand softly reaching out, intertwining his fingers through yours.
“Kim Taehyung, I’ve never seen someone as insufferable as you,” you fired back, the unfamiliar feeling of his digits threaded through yours causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You never thought you’d fight with yourself to refute the gentle way he was treating you.
“I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as insufferable as you,” Despite his words, his actions were careful and considerate. Waiting for you to make the next move, he stilled.
“Then don’t,” you took a step towards him, your eyes flickering to his lips for a brief second. “No one asked you to.” Despite your words, your whole being was very much screaming at him, loudly, to kiss the living daylights out of you. Toe to toe with him, your fingers tightened around his, before you fixated your gaze on his rosy lips.
“You said I’m stubborn,” he smiled at you, any trace of cockiness gone from his voice.
“You’re also wasting time,” you countered, breathing increasingly laboured as he bent down, shrinking the space between your faces to mere millimetres.
“My bad,” he murmured against your lips, bumping his nose to yours. As if they’d always belonged there, his hands found your cheeks easily cupping them —Softly cradling your face. Your eyelids fluttered and you fought the nervous instinct to bite your lip. Your gaze wavered, taking in his features, unable to hold his molten gaze for longer than a few moments. Instead you focused on his sharply defined brows, the high point of his nose and what you could see of it before going cross eyed. The nose that was now caressing yours lightly, as if he was treading the water, asking for permission.
“May I?” he whispered, the slight waver in his voice not escaping your notice.
The thought of his consideration towards your willingness engulfed your heart in warmth. If someone were to ask you to describe it, it would be a perfect mixture between a fuzzy blanket and the feeling of having a warm drink heat up your insides. He made you feel at home, he made you feel safe—yet you couldn’t help but tease him.
“May you what? Waste time? You could but that would technically—“ you rambled, your hands anchoring themselves in your own pockets. It was a gift when you were presenting in class, but right that moment it was you who was wasting the time.
Taehyung fought the urge to roll his eyes at you, your slightly over the top reaction simultaneously amused and exasperated hiim. Nudging your nose harder to make you stop, he carefully watched your eyes widen and your mouth slam shut.
“Y/N, do us both a favour and kindly shut up. I’d like to kiss you now,” he prompted, before he softly placed his lips on yours.
The kiss wasn’t anything you would have expected. Contrary to his dominating personality and his insufferable childishness, the kiss was anything but. Your face was gently cupped in his hands, his thumb applying light pressure onto your jaw and his lips were soft and hesitant. As if he was afraid he would break you, he moved slowly, barely coaxing your lips open with his, before you huffed out in annoyance pulling away from him.
“Kim Taehyung, is this the best you can offer me?” You pointed an accusing finger his way, trying to pretend that your head wasn’t swimming in goo. The kiss had left you breathless, but his presence around you, combined with his scent, gnawed at your lower abdomen, its tightness asking for more.
“What-?” he looked completely baffled, his eyes half lidded and his voice breathless.
Witnessing how affected he was by just that kiss, you almost let a swell of pride take over your body. However, the need to get him to give it to you was greater than your need for self satisfaction. Giving him a once over you contemplated giving away all those times you witnessed his flirting and fleeting flings at parties and after shows. You would see him from time to time attached to someone hidden in a corner, his hands somewhere on their body in a highly inappropriate way.
“I- I have seen the way you kiss,” you mumbled. With the words now out of your mouth, it made you realise how stalker-ish that sounded. Ignoring his highly amused quirk of his eyebrow you carried on. Foot in mouth may just as well own it.
“This is not it. What happened to the ‘dark corners, I’ll grab your ass as if it was the only thing anchoring me to the earth, CPR worthy kiss’ you’ve given others?” you could feel yourself getting more and more aggravated. The more you talked the more the seed of doubt planted itself in your brain. He could have been swept away in the post dance, adrenaline filled atmosphere and not entirely interested in giving you the time of the day.
Caught up in your own insecurities, you didn’t notice the slight shift in Taehyung’s expression, the quirk of his lips faltering for a moment as he looked deep in thought. He was planning to let you carry on with your ramble, to let you offload your worries and stress onto him however the route you were going was no more pulling at his heartstrings than the waver in your voice did. Seeing you carry on with your ramble, your teeth gnawing at your lip he made a quick decision.
“Y/N,” his voice spoke of no nonsense, forcing you to stop. “Focus on me.” Without allowing you a moment to redress yourself he pulled you to him, an arm wound tightly around your waist, the other gripping at the back of your neck. Roughly devouring your mouth with his, muffling any possible protest successfully, he bent you lightly at the waist when your knees buckled underneath you.
You could barely think. His warmth scattered your thoughts; his tongue slowly traced your bottom lip as his fingers dug deeper into your skull causing you to shiver. Tilting your head slightly, you pushed back against his mouth and hooked your leg around his hip, your tongue desperately searching for his.
This was the kiss you had imagined. Much like your squabbles in real life, you both fought for control. Pushing and pulling against each other, hands grabbing at any article of clothing, trying to bring each other closer. When his hand slid under your top, his heat brushing lightly against your colder back, you gave in. Loosening your hold against him, your fight diminished, until all you could feel and hear were your soft moans and rugged breaths.
The heightened feelings that invaded your heart radiated through the kiss; if you were unsure of the future, the warmth in the kiss bridged the gap, providing you a path to certainty. Sure, Taehyung was loud, rude and obnoxious. But wrapping you this tightly in his arms, whilst his lips followed the rhythm of your heart made you think otherwise. Overwhelmed with questions and emotions you broke the kiss abruptly, stumbling backwards.
“Why did I enjoy that?” you mumbled in awe. Aimed more to yourself you didn’t expect Taehyung to respond so quickly.
“Because we like each other, and as much as we fight, we also need to reconcile,” he shrugged as if he was talking about the situation.
Regaining your step you pulled away from him with a snort. “Well that was…reconciling.” Making light of a serious situation was so like him, yet, you couldn’t have appreciated him more than at that moment.
“Remind me again,” Taehyung breathed out a laugh, “why was there an argument between us?”
You were both leaning onto each other, your bodies flush, his hands holding tightly to your hips as he swayed you both back and forth to a song present, yet again, only in his head. Your eyes were closed, and your head was nestled into the crook of his neck, his scent lulling you into a daze. He smelled like a holiday, like warm fires, pinewood, and the soft scent of sweet bread. You could have fallen asleep standing, if not for the light jolt you got now and then from him shuffling his feet during your dance.
Humming as if in thought, you struggled to pull your mind together. “I don’t know, may have to do with the fact that I’m a better dancer and you are not willing to accept that,” you finally responded, your words meant to bite but the jokingly tone in your voice making it clear it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously.
“Or it could be–“ you started before you felt your world shift, your feet sweeped off the ground and your head suspended in the air. Yelping your eyes snapped open landing on his entertained ones. The slight quirk of his lips made you pout.
“I got you, don’t worry.” Even though he took you by surprise by suspending you in a dip, his warm gaze and strong grip on your waist and back of your head reassured you. He had you.
“What are you doing?” you narrowed your eyes at him, your fingers digging slightly in his biceps to persuade him to let you go.
“Proving who the better dancer is,” he smiled, the wide shape of his mouth making his whole face light up in amusement. He was taunting you, as you did him earlier, but you found it hard to care as you stared at him. His soft skin and the myrth on his face made him look younger than he was, freer. Long gone was the glowering, moody Taehyung that you remembered. There was no trace of the mockery or jabs he would throw at you in the midst of your dance competitions, all you could see in his gaze was happiness and warmth.
“You’re handsome,” you found yourself blurting out without meaning to. The carelessness and freedom with which you admitted your own feelings made you sputter. You hadn’t intended for it to come out in such a flighty way, and despite the heat that was rising under your skin crawling up your neck, you found that you didn’t care. Judging by the slight gleam in Taehyung’s eyes, neither did he.
With a quick decision to roll with the punches, you craned your neck to reach his lips. Roughly pressed together, you let a whimper escape your throat when his tongue once again coaxed your mouth open. Letting him dominate you, you allowed yourself the pleasure of tracing his shoulders with the palms of your hand, your fingers lightly tracing his collarbones through his top. Sensing the flex of his muscle under your touch, you smirked into the kiss. Venturing lower and lower, your hands mapping out the planes of his chest, your nails dragged over his nipples drawing a sharp inhale out of him. Smiling proudly to yourself you decided to focus on that area, teasing as much as you could by pinching and tracing skin and muscle. You enjoyed the guttural sounds you drew out of him for a brief moment before Taehyung pulled away from the kiss, having decided he’d had enough of your impish ways.
“How about,” he whispered darkly, his breath caressing the shell of your ear making you shudder. “I show you who the better one is?” Before you could ask or assume he meant dancing, his hand trailed lower down your lower spine, over the curvature of your ass, making purchase onto the softer flesh there. Pulling you forcefully closer to him, you wrapped your leg around his hips for better access, your core almost flush together with the obvious bulge in his trousers.
Smirking lightly, your body warming up with desire, you hooked your fingers through the loops of his belt grinding your hips against his drawing a hiss out of him.
“You can try, pretty boy, but what makes you think I’ll allow you to,” you taunted nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
Taehyung chuckled, your position making it easy for him to slide both hands under your ass and hoist you up.
“Like I said earlier, Y/N,” he warned and carried your laughing form towards the stretching benches lowering you down. Bent over you, his eyes glowering with lust, it was enough to make your laughter die in your throat and your breath hitch. Your attention flickered from his darkened eyes to his predatory smile and as he closed off the space between you, you felt the butterflies in your stomach burst into flames. Before he could make good on his promise, he added another warning.
whipped - JJK
↣ another day, another trend that you’re forced to participate in with your boyfriend. It was his idea but he somehow gets sidetracked, with his head between your thighs.
pairing — tiktoker!jungkook x reader
genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, crack, pwp
word count — 5K
warnings/tags — college au, sorta established relationship, strong language, barista!reader, thigh kink (ofc), kinda famous jk, explicit smut — big dick jk, manhandling, exhibitionism, dirty talk, biting/scratching, hickeys, fingering, oral (f & m), hair pulling, clit biting, degradation, spanking, pussy slapping, squirting, deep throating, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, doggy style, unprotected sex, cum on chest?, aftercare
a/n — if you don’t watch tiktoks, that’s fine, he kinda explains it in the fic. I couldn’t get tiktoker!jk out of my head.
Rubbing at the itch on your forehead, you’re scrubbing down the counter with tired arms, switching from one to the other while your co-worker sits at one of the tables, giggling at her phone screen now and again. If it was any other day, you would ask her to help but you’re not in the mood for another argument. Today had been one of those days, the kind that made you regret ever begging for a job here at the café. You were forced to deal with two elderly woman who chewed your ear off about not having oat milk. Despite you telling them – multiple times – that you don’t handle inventory.
Then you messed up two orders, which was entirely your fault. But you know that it could’ve been avoided if Mina got off her phone for a minute and remembered that she had a job to do instead of taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi here.
“You’re so lucky,” she whines, face lit by her red screen.
Rinsing out the cloth, you untie your apron, finally, then set it in the drawer. You would ask her what she’s talking about if you haven’t heard complain about it a million times.
“He’s like…perfect,” she sighs dreamily, the same song replaying in the background as she drools at the screen, “how does it feel to have a famous tiktoker, who’s not only hot, but rich too, as your boyfriend?”
You didn’t think she was expecting an answer until she slots herself in front of you, eyebrow lifted in question.
“Did you know that he just hit ten million followers?”
You sigh, throwing on your jacket before fitting the grey beanie over your head, looking around her to find your scarf.
“How does it feel to have the JK as your boyfriend?”
Shrugging, you brush past her and switch off the lights, grabbing the keys from the counter. This is what you have to deal with every evening after work. Once she mistook your anger for insecurity, so you decided not to entertain her.
“Have you seen the girls in his comments? Don’t you ever feel even a bit intimidated?”
You shrug again, much more tense this time, “I don’t. To me, he’s just Jungkook.”
She chuckles, manicured nails tapping at her screen, “I find that hard to believe.”
“Well,” you begin, gritting your teeth, “I don’t care if you believe that or not. Here.”
Clumsily, the ring of keys slip through her fingers when you toss them in her direction, she scrambles to pick it up from the tile.
“See you on Monday.”
Hearing her curse under her breath, you laugh to yourself as you step out into the cold, shoulders hiking up when a particularly frosty breeze hits the back of your neck, through the thick material of your scarf. Perhaps you are nettled by the fact that Mina nags you about the same thing all the time. What does she want from you? To admit that deep down, you’re really insecure and threatened by Jungkook and his fans? Most of the time, you don’t keep track of what he posts. Except when he asks if you could make a video with him.
And he doesn’t mind. He knows that you’re a busy woman and have other things to see to before spending hours on an app you don’t understand. But you try to understand, for his sake.
Like the calm before the storm, you drag your weight up the quiescent stairway, knowing that it won’t be long before your dorm would be vibrating for the start of the weekend. You come to an abrupt stop at the end, seeing a black, hunched figure sitting against your room door. Heartbeat accelerating at your boyfriend’s bunny smile.
“Hey,” you grin, falling into his embrace when he rises to his feet. You giggle when he lifts your beanie a bit to kiss your forehead, hands clasped behind your back.
“Hi, I brought the noms.”
You inhale deeply, pulling away to see the brown bag in his hand, “what is it? Thank you, baby.”
He follows you into your room, shutting the door behind you while you set down the bag and unroll your scarf, scratching at the little dents it made in your skin after you wrapped it a bit too tight.
“I was feeling for curry, so I got that for us,” he replies, coming up behind you to prop his chin on your head, “but we can order something else if you like.”
Lifting the small container from the bag, you moan when the steam wafts over your face, jowls tingling when the spicy fragrance hits you.
“No, it’s just what I needed.”
He chuckles, helping you offload the rest of the containers.
You lick the side of your thumb, shrugging off your jacket before you get any gravy stains on the white collar.
“I’m gonna shower first,” you inform, peeling off your socks, “I feel gross.”
He nods, already digging into the rice, “okay, it’ll be warm by the time you get back.”
You hold your index finger up threateningly, “hey! Don’t start without me!”
He pokes his tongue into his cheek, closes the container slowly then flops down on your bed with a sigh. One of your plushies bounce onto his chest.
“I was just tasting.”
You share a look when your stomach growls, crying for food.
“Better make it snappy.”
By the time you’re done eating, you’re too full to move an inch, sprawled across the bed with Jungkook’s head in your lap. He’s scrolling through Tiktok while you’re attempting to round up your paper. But it’s proving to be a difficult task with your energy running low and his lack of earphones. You’d just have to complete it sometime this weekend.
When he hears your laptop close, he turns his head to the side, doe eyes gleaming.
You shake your head, “I’ll just finish it tomorrow.”
With a pat to his hand, you help him under the blanket with you, cozying up to him with a blissful sigh. But he continues to fidget, and you feel your heart speed up with lack of sleep, the beginning of a headache stirring. Did you fall off to sleep that quick?
He tugs you closer to him, nose nudging yours when he sets his head on your pillow.
“Did I wake you?”
“I don’t know,” you laugh, rubbing at your eyes, “was I asleep?”
Goosebumps trail the line his index finger draws on the side of your face, creeping down over your back when you breathe in his heady scent.
“I think so,” he whispers. You lean forward to slot your lips over his, hiking one leg over his waist when his palms slide under your t-shirt.
“Missed you,” he mumbles against your lips, “are you tired?”
You smirk, “why?”
His gaze flits somewhere behind you, then to your chest as he props himself up on his elbow. You mirror his action, swiping across his chin with your thumb.
“If you’re not tired…there’s something I wanted to do.”
“Well, I’m not tired anymore. What is it?”
He rubs the back of his neck, not quite meeting your gaze, “it’s for a tiktok.”
You open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off, grabbing at your hands.
“We don’t even have to do much! Just sit here on the bed and cuddle. That’s all. It’s like seven seconds too!”
“It won’t take long. Please,” he continues to beg while you snigger at the way he’s behaving, “you know how much I like having videos of you on my page.”
You fiddle with the aglets on his hoodie, “I know, I just…don’t feel like…I spent the whole afternoon working on my paper. And then work was shit.”
He coos when you pout, bringing you into his arms.
You melt into his embrace, burying your nose in his hoodie to inhale his comforting scent, “can’t we just cuddle?”
Shivering slightly when his fingers run under the band of your panties, you tip your head up to look at him, chin pressed into his toned chest.
He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, little beauty spot under his lip disappearing briefly.
“Of course we can,” he smiles, lips grazing your nose, “after we’re done making this tiktok. It involves cuddling.”
You blink, mildly confused. “Fine.” As if you could say no to that face.
Goofy grin reappearing, he grips your head in both his hands and smashes his lips to yours. Before you can even attempt to kiss him back, he pulls away. Grabbing his phone and scooting up on your bed.
“Okay, you’re supposed to sit here,” he points at the pillow, fluffing the frills a bit then fits his hand in yours, directing you to sit against the headboard, “and…wait—”
You follow his gaze to your black Nirvana t-shirt, “what? God, Jungkook. I am not changing—”
“No, no,” he interrupts, lifting the hem of your shirt which has your cheeks heating just a bit, “you’re not wearing any pants under.”
Narrowing your eyes in his direction, you smack his hand away, “should I…put on pants?”
He looks to be contemplating for a while before he nods, “yeah.”
Sighing deeply, you walk the short space to your chest of drawers. By now, you should be accustomed to Jungkook and his weird requests. But this isn’t even the worst one. At least you don’t have to leave your dorm room this time.
“Yeah,” he whispers behind you, chest hitting your shoulder as he reaches over to pull out your black gym shorts, “these ones.”
You cock an eyebrow, “are you sure?”
He examines the clothing, smiling stupidly to himself, “these are the ones. Put them on.”
Yanking the flimsy material from his hands, you sit at the edge of the bed as you pull the shorts up your legs. He stands at your side like a puppy holding his leash, waiting for you to take him out on a walk.
Even if you are a teensy bit annoyed, you really can’t be mad at him for too long. With his big, doe eyes, messy hair and puffed-up cheeks. For him, you try to keep up with the latest trends on Tiktok but you don’t have enough time. Even if you say that you’ll spend some time on that confusing app before bed, you’re exhausted by the time you’re home from work and end up visiting his page only, then falling off to sleep.
You know that he has quite a large following, girls thirst over him in the comments, even if he posts a video of his right hand alone. But at the end of the day, he’s your man and you’re in some – most – of his videos.
Bending over to pick up a ball of socks that had fallen out of your drawer, you yelp when he smacks your ass cheek. Spinning around to glare at him.
“Couldn’t help myself,” he smirks, black eyes flashing, “I love it when you wear that. But then again, your ass looks good in everything you wear.”
You clear your throat, glancing at the bed behind you, “let’s get this over with.”
He nods, unlocking his phone as he sits in front of you on the bed, “the Wi-Fi here sucks.”
You chuckle, running your fingers through his silky hair as you peek over his shoulder.
“So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Well,” he begins without lifting his head, “I already filmed the first part this morning and then it’s gonna transition to me and you sitting here.”
You nod, “okay, and do I have to like…say anything?”
“Yeah,” he says softly, “I’m gonna be sitting like this…but between your legs. I’m just waiting for the audio to load.”
Yanking his head back with your grip on his hair, your eyebrows pinch together, “didn’t we already make a Tiktok like that?”
He wiggles out of your grip, nudging your thighs apart for him to get more comfortable, “yeah, but this is a different one.”
He holds the phone up to your face, “this is the first clip.”
‘Wake up in the morning brush my teeth before I see my queen—’
It’s a video of him, you can tell that he just woke up by his tangled hair and half-lidded eyes, holding his toothbrush before it pans to the side and cuts off.
“And that’s where we come in. I’m supposed to say this bit—"
‘Wow. Who are you?’
He points to you, “and then you say—”
‘Bitch I’m two-phone Baby Keem.’
Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, “that’s the song?”
He nods eagerly, “mhm. See. It’s just a short video.”
You stare at each other for a while. He’s waiting patiently for your answer before you nod and move up on the bed, smiling to yourself at how excited he is when he slides down and sits between your legs. Resting his head just below your crotch, he holds his phone up while you prop your thighs over his shoulders, fitting your fingers in his hair once again.
You’re familiar with this position, so he didn’t need much direction but it’s not like you could pretend as if his whole head is not…there. In that region…The region he claims to love so much.
He reaches up to knead your thigh, the other hand occupied by his phone, “it’s taking so long to load again.”
“It’s—” The words die on your tongue when he tilts his head to mouth at your inner thigh, tattooed fingers running over the delicate skin slowly “—it’s okay.”
Suddenly, you’re feeling all the pressure of his head between your legs, even more when he lifts his head up to look at you menacingly.
“I know you like it when we sit like this.”
Maybe. But you prefer other positions.
You try to hide how his fingers pinching at the meat of your thigh isn’t affecting you. Hoping you aren’t soaking through your panties and shorts because it feels as though the apex of your thighs has gone numb but too sensitive at the same time. Air a little warmer despite the window being left open a crack.
“Did it load yet?”
Shivering when he starts to nip and tug at the skin, your fingers twist in his hair.
“Did what load?”
You crane your neck to look into his phone, masking your arousal with anger, “idiot. The audio?!”
He flings his phone to the side which misses the edge of the mattress and clatters to the floor. You’re about to yell at him when he spins around and begins to kiss the junction between your leg and thigh through the fabric of your gym shorts. Your hands fall to your sides, mouth hanging open.
“What are you doing?”
He hooks your legs over his shoulders once again, adjusting his position on the bed to lie flat on his stomach, “what does it look like I’m doing?”
“What ab—” your eyes scrunch shut when he drags his nail down the centre of your folds, finding the outline of your puffy clit with ease.
“Fuck that. You smell so fucking good.”
Of course. He was that close. Obviously, he’d smell you. And it’d be easier for him to recognize your scent after he spent hours trying to suffocate himself between your legs. You should’ve known this would happen. Are you angry? No.
“Jungkook…wait, did you lock the door?”
He doesn’t respond, just lifts an eyebrow when he tugs on the band of your shorts. You raise your hips as he pulls the material over the globes of your ass, flinging it in across the bed to find his phone lying somewhere there. Abandoned.
Lip caught between your teeth, your fingers curl around the blanket when he lifts the band of your panties and it tugs on your folds, sticking to your pussy which clenches around nothing. One thing you always seem to forget about Jungkook, is that he starts off slow, takes his time at first before he loses his patience. By the time he’s done with teasing you, your mind becomes fogged with nothing but lust.
He mouths around your pussy, licking and sucking everywhere except where you need him the most. And he continues to grab at your panties, pulling it up, as high as it can go as you squirm with the friction that’s not enough. Grinding into the flimsy fabric while he paints your thighs with his teeth.
You hips fall to the bed pathetically when he clicks his tongue, spreading your thighs further apart for his greedy stare. He taps your clit once and you jolt, a whimper spilling from your lips while you feel your juices seep through your panties.
Feeling his hot breath penetrate the sodden material of your underwear, your hips jerk up reflexively when he taps your clit again. Harder this time.
“Touch me. Please. Want your mouth, your fingers. Anything.”
He chuckles darkly, “why?”
You groan, “why? Fuck Jungkook. Because—”
A gasp gets caught in your throat when he tears at your panties and pinches your clit. Caught between his fingers lightly, but the sensation has more arousal dripping down your folds, slipping between your ass cheeks.
“Watch your mouth.”
He draws his hand back and slaps your clit, dragging his thumb along your slick folds.
“S-sorry,” you choke, tugging on the sheets so as to not grind into his hand that’s running down your pussy deliciously, gathering your slick on his hands before coming up to rub tight circles on your clit.
“Such a slut,” he says clearly, voice calm as if the hand on your cunt doesn’t belong to him, “you seem to forget your place.”
Your nails pierce into your palms as he drags two fingers up and down your inner folds, moaning at how good it feels when he presses down harder, nearing your pulsating hole.
“Take off your shirt,” he orders, lips grazing your clit, “let me see those pretty tits.”
Swallowing thickly, your breath stalls in your chest when he sinks two fingers into your heat at once, tongue curling around your clit while you’re trying to remove your t-shirt from around your head. You collapse onto the bed, resisting the urge to play with your nipples with his vigilant eyes on you, waiting for you to make the wrong move.
He swirls his tongue around your clit, fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt until he finds your sweet spot, hooking his fingers against it when you cry out his name.
The loud squelching of his fingers pushing into your pussy is embarrassingly loud, slick dripping down his hand while he continues to roll his tongue against your clit. His hot breath, paired with the skilled movements of his fingers and tongue sends a spark up the length of your spine. You feel the knot build in your abdomen, back arching off the bed when he picks up the pace, reaching up with one hand to push you back down.
You’re buzzing with desire, thrashing under him as you hear him slurp up your juices sloppily, grinding his fingers into you with vigor. Pressing into that spot until you feel yourself reach the edge.
“I’m gonna fu—”
All you hear is the sound of the door handle clicking before you sit up on your elbows to see Hana and her group of friends standing at the doorway.
They stand motionless, and you’re trying to yank Jungkook away, shame washing over you as he continues to lap at your pussy, watching them from his periphery. You can hear them whisper, and you’re wondering why the fuck they aren’t going anywhere until you grab your penguin plushie and throw it in their direction.
Still gawking at your boyfriend between your legs, they make their way out and until the door clicks shut do you fix Jungkook with a shocked stare.
“Why didn’t you stop— Shit!”
He flicks his tongue over your clit at breakneck speed, adding a third finger to the mix as he sinks in and out, matching the pace of his tongue to have your thighs shaking around his face.
“I know you liked it,” he growls, the sound reverberating through your core, “I felt you clenching around my fingers when they came in. Such a fucking slut.”
He wiggles his hand, crooking his fingers against your walls, spurred on by his filthy words. The knot builds again, eyes watering while you jerk your hips up. Grabbing at the sheets, you spill onto his hand, screaming out his name as he continues to stretch you out. Heat washing over your body. He licks at your folds noisily.
“That’s it. Let them hear you. Let them know who’s making you feel this good.”
He suctions around your hole, drinking up every last drop while you twitch, still coming down from your high. You watch through blurry vision as he hops off the bed, the front of his hoodie drenched with your cum. You would’ve been embarrassed, if it wasn’t a regular thing with him.
Milky skin exposed, he balls up his clothes and sets it down on your desk, tugging at your hand to signal for you to sit at the edge of the bed. You feel desire recollect in your abdomen as you see him take off his watch. The sound of his rings hitting your nightstand is something you love hearing, knowing what’s about to happen next. You’re already salivating, core throbbing all over again when you see him roll his palm over his girthy length.
Delicately, he pulls your hair over your shoulder as you lie down at the edge, parting your lips immediately when he lines his cock up with your mouth.
You stick out your tongue, tasting the precum smeared across the tip before he nudges it against the corner of your mouth. Hissing when the wet muscle rubs against his frenulum.
“Look at you,” he grits, thrusting into your mouth experimentally before pulling out and gripping the base, other hand fitted tightly around your throat, “worried that your friends might see you but you’re still letting me fuck your throat. Knowing they can walk in again.”
You mewl, eyes flying shut when he pushes his hips forward, balls slapping into your face as the tip hits the back of your throat, causing you to grab his thighs with the burn. He draws his hips back, giving you some time to breathe before you open your mouth again and take him further, relaxing your throat as he grabs your hands in one of his. Holding it to the side.
“Fuck, just like that.”
Lips sealed tightly around his cock, your tongue presses into the veins on the side, eyes prickling with tears when he takes control and rocks against your face, throwing his head back while his fingers press into the sides of your throat. Your spit dribbles down your lips, hitting the rug beside his toes which curl with pleasure.
“Such a pretty little slut, letting me use her mouth however I like,” he grunts, gaining momentum as he presses down on your sternum, thumbing at your nipple before hunching over your form.
You can feel the sweat collecting at the back of your neck, jaw beginning to ache when he holds his cockhead deep inside your throat, tears slipping down the side of your face. Whining around his length, your eyes fly open when his calloused fingers slide below your navel, stopping over your clit. Thighs trembling as he spreads your folds, pressing his index and ring finger into your heat while he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit.
“C’mon,” he growls, voice strained as you feel his balls clench against your nose, “give me another.”
You plant your feet on the bed, taking mangled breaths through your nose while he stretches you open on his fingers once again, still sensitive from your first high, you squirm and moan with his cock lodged in your throat. Burning when you feel your second high splatter against your thigh, messing your sheets once again.
His heavy cock hits your cheek when he pulls out of your strained mouth, dragging you by your ankle to pull you further down on the bed. The only thing you see before he spins you around and raises your back to an arch, positioning your ass against his cock, is the sweat glittering on his skin, hair dripping as it lays flat against his head.
You’re still buzzing from your first high, holding yourself up on tired limbs as he spreads you open with the tip of his cock, sighing out your name before you feel his hand meet your ass. Hands giving up while your cheek presses into the blanket, drool slipping out when his cock rubs against your folds.
“Good girl,” he pants, and you can tell by his prolonged thrusts that he’s trying to drag out the sensation. Feeling each vein press into your walls once he sinks into your cunt.
You’re babbling, hair sticking to your shoulders with how much you’re sweating, mouth hanging open as he splits you open on his cock. He twists you around harshly, pressing your knees into your chest as you both watch how his cock disappears into your creamy cunt, air creeping out of your lungs.
He directs your attention to his face with a hand around your throat, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Such a greedy little cunt,” he grunts, eyes not leaving yours, “still want more? Want me to fill you up with my cum? Hm?”
You nod, rubbing your lips together to prevent yourself from screeching, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his big cock goes deeper and deeper with each ruthless thrust.
If you weren’t so fucked out, you would notice that he’s quiet once he’s close to the edge, eyebrows knitted together as he concentrates, rolling off the last bit of energy as he chases his high. He whimpers when your walls close around him, hissing when your nails draw lines down his back.
“Fucking hell,” he groans, cock twitching inside you as his thrusts become shallow. His eyes lock with yours, wet hair brushing your forehead before he kneels on the bed and sets down your legs, index finger flicking at your clit twice before your mind goes blank for the third time tonight.
“I’m cumming, fuck—“
He thrusts into his fist, directing the hot spurts of cum onto your chest with a drawn-out groan of your name. You gasp when some hits your chin, dripping down your sides filthily.
You’re lax in his arms, reaching up half-heartedly to help him clean you up and change the beddings. Sitting at your desk, you watch as he struggles to fit on the sheet. You would’ve helped but he insisted that he could do it himself. Smiling tiredly, you thank him as he tucks you in, leaving the blanket folded over so he can join you in bed.
“Are you feeling cold? Do you want me to close the window?”
Humming, you roll over onto your side under the blanket, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer, especially when the fresh sheets feel so good against your skin. Behind closed lids, you sense the change in lighting after he settles in behind you, pecking the skin of your shoulder. You’re about to fall off to sleep when you realize that your roommate and her friends saw you butt-naked with your boyfriend’s mouth on your—
“Jungkook,” you call, nudging him with your shoulder, “are you awake?”
“Yeah, what?” He croaks. You melt after hearing his whiny, sleepy voice, turning around in his hold to poke his cheek.
“Hana and her friends saw us.”
His mouth quirks to the side, eyes remaining closed, “so?”
“So? Are you kidding? I was naked and you were…I’m pretty sure they’re all fans of yours!” You whisper-shout, smacking his arm lightly when he pinches your ass.
He speaks around a yawn, cuddling you closer to his chest, “so what if they’re my fans?”
You blink, “I don’t know…What if they tell everyone and you lose followers…or something like that?”
His eyes crack open, face going blank for a split before his eyebrow jumps.
“Everyone knows I have a girlfriend. Why would I lose followers if everyone knows that my girlfriend and I fuck? Which they probably already know.”
Your cheeks heat at his crude words.
“Besides, I could have one billion followers but only one would matter to me,” he says nonchalantly, shutting his eyes as if dismissing the conversation.
Pulling away to get a better look at him, you slide a hand over his tattoos, stopping at his shoulder.
“Oh yeah? Who would that be?”
His arms encircle your waist, sharing body heat as your form melds to his. Heart fluttering in your chest at his boyish grin.
a/n — if you liked this, please consider leaving a like/reblog/comment or an ask if you’re shy <3
© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate
namjoon gets forehead kisses as a birthday gift from the maknae line ♡
the art of doubting | jjk (m)
>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst
>>word count: 17k -.-
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs
>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.
Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.
Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.
“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”
You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.
“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”
You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.
He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”
You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.
Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.
It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.
On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.
You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”
He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”
“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”
It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.
There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.
Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”
His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.
Wish you could have come
It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.
“What flavor is it?”
“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.
“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.
Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.
He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.
“Do them over me.”
Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I wanna help,” you reason.
“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.
You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”
“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”
“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”
“You are so ungrateful.”
He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”
You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”
“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.
“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.
He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.
But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.
You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.
Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.
Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.
Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”
A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.
He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.
“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.
The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.
He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.
You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.
He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.
“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.
When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.
You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”
Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.
Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.
When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.
His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.
His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.
“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”
Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.
“Keep licking,” he moans.
You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.
You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.
In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.
Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.
He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.
The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.
You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.
Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.
You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.
“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.
“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.
The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.
As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.
He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.
“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.
Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.
“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.
He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”
“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.
You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”
When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.
It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.
Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.
It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.
His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.
He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.
His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.
“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”
He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.
“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.
The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.
At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.
“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.
He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.
Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.
He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.
“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.
Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.
“Look baby,” he tells you.
It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.
Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.
“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.
Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.
“Faster– getting close...”
Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.
“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.
He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”
And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.
“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”
That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”
You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.
“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”
It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.
“Who are you asking?”
A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.
“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.
You say the first thing that pops into your head.
A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.
“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”
At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.
“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”
Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.
“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”
Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.
You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.
The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.
“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.
“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.
And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.
“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.
He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.
And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”
“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”
He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.
The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.
His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.
“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”
Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.
You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.
“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.
Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–
“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.
“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.
Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.
He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.
You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.
He kisses you again and again and again.
There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.
When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.
Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.
Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.
He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.
He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.
It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.
It feels like a–
It feels like–
Jeongguk takes his time with you.
It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.
He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.
He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.
When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.
After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”
“Wear this one, you look good in white.”
Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.
He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.
“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.
“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.
He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”
You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”
The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.
“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.
Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.
So of course you just change the subject.
“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”
“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”
“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”
He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”
And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.
He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.
He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.
Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”
Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.
You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.
“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.
“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.
The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.
The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.
When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.
In front of you is not a delivery guy.
It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.
And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.
Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.
It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.
At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.
“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.
The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.
And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.
“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.
The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.
“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.
She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.
“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”
Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.
And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?
At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.
“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.
Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.
“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.
Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”
“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.
Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.
And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.
You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”
“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.
“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.
“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.
Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.
“Who is that, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.
“She’s a friend,” he sighs.
“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.
Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”
He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.
“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”
And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.
It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.
“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.
Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”
Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”
“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”
Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.
He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.
Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.
Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.
“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”
Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.
But the point is made all the same.
“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.
“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”
Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.
“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.
The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.
He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.
“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”
Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.
It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.
“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”
Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”
They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.
“Drive safe, Som-ie.”
The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.
And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?
You had at least expected him to defend you.
To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?
Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.
If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.
So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.
But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.
You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.
“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”
Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.
“Buu?” she asks.
In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.
Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.
Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.
It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.
“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.
She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.
“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.
“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”
Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi,” he says back.
“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.
You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.
“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”
“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.
“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”
He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.
“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.
You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.
“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.
Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”
Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.
It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.
You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.
He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.
It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.
He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”
You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”
Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.
“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”
You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.
He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?
For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.
Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.
“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.
“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.
You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.
He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.
Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.
It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.
A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.
“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.
“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.
“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”
His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.
The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”
The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.
“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.
Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”
“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”
The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.
The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.
But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.
You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.
It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.
He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.
It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.
His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.
The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.
“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.
“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.
Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”
You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”
And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.
Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.
It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.
Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.
“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.
She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.
“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”
You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.
“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.
Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.
It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.
The scene is domestic.
“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.
Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”
“Has she always been a co sleeper?”
Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”
At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.
It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.
You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”
Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.
“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”
Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.
Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.
When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.
“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”
She blows a bubble up at him.
His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.
“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.
Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.
“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”
“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.
Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.
Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”
Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”
Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”
“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”
“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”
“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”
“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”
“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”
“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”
Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.
“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.
“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”
Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.
Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.
“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”
“Is it warm enough?”
“Yes, I think she wants you.”
Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”
“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”
Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”
As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.
“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.
He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.
Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.
“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”
She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”
“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”
The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.
“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”
Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.
“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”
“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”
Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.
“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”
She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”
“That’s not what I’m asking–”
“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”
Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.
It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”
Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”
And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.
“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.
“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.
“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”
You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.
“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”
“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.
Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”
Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”
He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.
“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”
“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.
Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.
“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.
And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.
At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”
You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”
His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”
Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”
Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”
You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”
And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”
It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.
But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”
Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.
Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.
His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.
“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.
That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.
“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.
Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”
“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”
His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.
You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.
It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.
Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.
“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.
“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.
Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”
“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.
“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”
Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.
“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”
You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.
It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.
Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”
Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–
“It’s not that simple, baby…”
–and it’s over.
“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”
And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.
He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”
“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.
“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.
Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.
“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”
It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?
“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”
He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”
It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.
Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–
“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.
Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”
And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.
“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.
He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”
“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.
When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”
You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.
“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”
“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”
“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.
“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.
“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”
Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”
A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.
“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.
Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”
And think you do.
Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?
Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.
“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”
When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.
You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.
AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3