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21summerdaes · 5 years
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I read 'firsts' last night before I went to sleep and I have to say- my mind is blown!! You wrote it so, so well and so effortlessly. I'm in awe by your writing talent but just how you structured the whole thing. I'm so grateful and happy you wrote it! I hope you write more and looking forward to more from you!! :)
:oo thank you so much!! this is so kind of you to say T____T i’m glad you liked it !!!
i’m definitely going to write more :) i’ve got one in progress, it should be up soon^^ thank you again!!
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21summerdaes · 5 years
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chen - kpop entertaining music festival in Taipei [190509] cr. supplements. †
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21summerdaes · 5 years
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Chen // April, and a flower Highlight Medley
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21summerdaes · 5 years
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tipsy jongdae @ dingo
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21summerdaes · 5 years
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chen - star1 magazine june 2019 
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21summerdaes · 5 years
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‘PRESENT ; gift’ Photobook #8 
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21summerdaes · 5 years
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firsts. [jongdae, M]
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tfw you wanted to write something completely plot-less and short and nsfw for your first exo/reader piece on here but you end up staying up all night to finish smth with actual plot and a longer word count than u intended bc you’re predictable
idgi can’t i just write y/n gettin some jongdae dick without feelings gettin in the way anyway hello it’s 4 am let’s get it
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kiss.
“Stay still, won’t you?”
“I can’t help it! You look funny.”
Jongdae frowns at you, pulling away.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rush forward before he can pull completely away, still laughing. “This is just...weird, okay?”
You and Jongdae were currently sat in your bedroom, on your bed, just a few inches apart, homework scattered on the sheets and forgotten. Somehow your conversations had gone from the impossible equations of tonight’s homework, to whether or not you were going to prom, to who your respective first kisses were. After a good solid two minutes of the both of you struggling to lie your way through an imagined first kiss, you both admitted to not having had one yet.
And naturally, Jongdae offered to be yours, and for you to be his. After all, best friends were always there for each other, and you didn’t want your first kiss to be a mistake. Even though your relationship with him was entirely platonic, Jongdae could never be a mistake.
Except it was extremely hard to kiss him when the entire situation was crazy, and he kept leaning in with dramatically puckered lips, and you were worried about his braces. Didn’t people use their tongues for these kinds of stuff? What would happen if your tongue got cut by them? Was that possible?
“Let’s try again,” you suggest, shaking off your laughter and holding Jongdae firmly by the shoulders. You breathe in, and out, and put your serious face on.
Only for Jongdae to burst into laughter now.
“What is it!” you exclaim.
“You look funny!”
“Jongdae!”
“Okay, okay!”
Jongdae collects himself now, echoing your actions and shaking out his arms and hands as if to shake the awkwardness. Really, the both of you were just nervous and trying to relieve all of that with jokes and laughter. And it was comforting, really, to know that he was as nervous as you. 
“Ready?” Jongdae asks, and you nod, a new determination about you.
Something different settles in the air this time as Jongdae looks at you, as he takes your cheek in his hand, as his gaze flits over your face and land on your lips. The mere action makes your heart tremble, and you wish you could make jokes and laugh now, but then suddenly, Jongdae’s leaning in, closing his eyes, and you move to meet him halfway.
It’s just a brush at first. A tentative touch of his lips against your own. Then, Jongdae pushes against you with a bit more certainty, mouth moving with yours. It’s weird, and you’re not entirely sure what to do next, whether to tilt your head that way or the other way, whether to move closer to him, whether to put your hand on his shoulder or his thigh or his nape.
Then you feel an arm wrap around your waist. Jongdae pulls you closer to him as he kisses you, and something about that makes your heart flutter, makes your stomach curl, which is not anything you’ve ever felt before when it came to Jongdae. It’s not unwelcome. It feels nice.
It’s like instinct then, to place one of your hands on his upper chest and to wrap your other arm around his neck. The kiss is still innocent, still light, but still has you in a tizzy as he moves his mouth against yours over and over, as his nose bumps into yours and you pull away to laugh and he moves back in to claim your lips again. It’s weird, all of this, but at the same time -- it... feels right, in some crazy way.
When you finally pull away from each other -- for real -- his eyes meet yours. His face is flushed, mouth pink and slick and eyes dilated. You don’t know what to say, what to feel, even. All you know is that the arm around your waist feels like it’s burning your skin, but in the best way, and you never want him to let go of you.
But he does.
He clears his throat as something seems to click in his head, then removes his arm from around your waist. You glance away and back up a few inches, pushing your hair away from your face and rearranging them back in place. You can’t seem to meet each other’s eyes now, suddenly finding interest in the spackled ceiling, the floor, the dull walls.
“That was, uh--”
“Good,” you finish, and you hear him chuckle.
“I have nothing to compare it to, but yeah,” Jongdae says, suddenly finding the courage to look at you with a small smile. “It was good.”
You smile back.
And you feel like maybe something’s been unlocked in your heart.
fight.
“By the way,” you say, “I can’t make it on Friday.”
“What? But we’ve had this planned for weeks.”
“I’m sorry, Jongdae,” you yell from the bathroom, rearranging your hair because it definitely doesn’t look good parted that way. “I have plans with my boyfriend.”
“Oh,” Jongdae says. “Of course.”
There’s a tone to his voice that sets you on edge, makes you squirm. You poke your head out from the bathroom to peer at him sitting on the couch.
“What kind of tone was that?”
“What tone?” he asks, faux-innocently.
“You know exactly what tone,” you say. “The attitude.”
“Well,” Jongdae says. “It’s about the fifth time this month you’ve stood me up for your boyfriend.”
And with that, you storm out of the bathroom, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me?”
“We hardly hang out anymore, Y/N.”
“We’re hanging out tonight, aren’t we?”
Jongdae looks at you firmly before pursing his lips and shaking his head. He scoffs in disbelief. “Not anymore.”
You blink at him, taken aback. “What? Why not?”
“When’s the last time we did anything together besides stay at home and eat takeout?” Jongdae says, standing from the couch and throwing his hands in the air. “We barely see each other these days and when we do, we’re just...lazing around here. And when you actually do want to go out, it’s only with your boyfriend.”
“Well...he’s my boyfriend, Jongdae, I don’t know what you want me to say. Besides, don’t you go out with your girlfriend?”
“You really are clueless, huh?” Jongdae says, scoffing once more. “I’m not dating her anymore. Haven’t been for two weeks.”
“What?” you gasp. “What happened? When did you…” They’d been together since, well, since the start of freshman year.
“But...why?” you ask quietly, unsurely.
“Y/N,” he says, somewhat exasperated, tired. He looks you in the eyes with a weary expression, almost begging you. “You can’t tell me you don’t know by now.”
It feels like you should know. You feel awful that you don’t, that the look in his eyes -- pained, confused, hurt -- may be because of you and you’re not even sure why.
“Know what?” you ask tentatively.
For the hundredth time that night, Jongdae scoffs, looking away and shaking his head. “Why are you doing this to me?” he says quietly.
Your heart thunders, pulse racing at the look in Jongdae’s eyes. “Jongdae, I’m not understanding.”
“I broke up with her for you,” he says. “I like you. You can’t tell me you didn’t know when, apparently, everyone on the fucking planet knows.”
“What?”
“Stop,” Jongdae says. “God, I… Sorry, I don’t know why I’m doing this now, of all times, jesus--”
He turns his back on you to leave, and he very nearly does, hand on the doorknob and shoes slipped on, pulling on his jacket.
It feels like time’s stopped, because so many things are happening at once but you can’t keep up with any of them, can’t make sense of any of them. Jongdae’s said the words you’ve only ever wanted him to say to you, but it’s not right, it doesn’t feel right, it’s not the way you wanted him to say it, it’s not the same context you’ve always dreamed about. It’s during a fight, a fight you didn’t even want to start, a fight that came out of nowhere. You want to take the moment to think about it, to take in the fact that Jongdae likes you.
Until you come back to your senses and start to realize how very unfair this entire situation is.
“Now hold on a fucking minute,” you say.”
Jongdae stops in his spot, clearly taken off guard by the demand in your words.
Your fists are clenched, but your gaze is only at the floor, heart hardened, trying your best to keep the tears from springing in your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted for tonight.
“I waited for you, Jongdae,” you say, softly at first, unsure. Your heart trembles with every word, knowing what you’re going to say next.
“I waited for you for years. I watched as you met her, I listened as you gushed about her, I stayed silent and nodded along and encouraged you to talk to her. And the whole time, I was suffering. And yet, I still did it all with a smile, because all I wanted was for you to be happy. All I wanted was for you to be with someone you really liked, even if it wasn’t me. I watched you with her for years. I was...the awkward third wheel when we hung out, known only to her and your college friends as your weird best friend from high school. I...I had to look away any time you kissed her, hugged her, talked sweet to her, wondering what it would be like to have all of that directed to me. I knew I had to move on, so I...stopped. Or, tried to. I started dating. Hanging out with other people.”
There’s tears brimming in your eyes, but you don’t want to let them fall. Want to stay strong, want to show him you’re fine.
“And I….I know I’ve been absent these past few months, that I haven’t been the best of friends to you, but I was only trying to save myself the pain, but I see now how selfish that was -- but you’re being insane if you think I’m doing this to purposely hurt you, to manipulate you. All I cared about for so long was your happiness and well being, Jongdae, and I still do, but it was time I thought about myself for once, can’t you understand? It killed me every single day, seeing you with her.”
Jongdae’s shoulders have slumped, a starstruck expression on his face.
“I didn’t know,” he says, his throat bobbing. “If I knew, I would have--”
“Don’t say it,” you interrupt, shutting your eyes and shaking your head. “If you say it, I--I really will never get over you.”
“Y/N--”
“I’m so sorry for not being around lately,” you say quietly. “But it’s not for nothing. Maybe I did it in the wrong way, but I just… what else was I supposed to do? I wanted to say something to you, but you were so happy. How could I get in the way of that?”
“I’m only ever happy when I’m with you,” he says. “It was always you. Always.”
You finally gather the courage to look up at him. You recognize the pain in his eyes, the longing there, the urge to come over and take you in his arms. You recognize it all too well, and it hurts you too, which is exactly why you can’t allow it to happen. It’s been too long, and it’s too late, and you’re already past the threshold of moving on. If Jongdae took any step closer to you, that threshold would break, and you don’t know what you would do with yourself.
“I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head, as if giving him an answer.
Then you turn your back on him instead, and allow yourself to leave the room, and shut the door to your bedroom.
Eventually -- you don’t know how long it takes -- you hear the front door open and close, and you allow yourself to cry, finally.
reunion.
“I’ll take the, uh. Fairy cloud macchiato, or -- whatever the special is. Grande, I think. That’s the medium size, right? I still get so confused, I didn’t have time to google it before it was my turn to order.”
The clerk chuckles, writing your name on a plastic cup. “It’s the medium size, yes. That’ll be $5.54.”
You thank her, before getting out of line and looking for a free table. You lock eyes on an empty one in the corner, before you hear someone yell your name.
“Yo, Y/N! Is that you?”
You turn your head to the right, only to see Byun Baekhyun from college waving at you from a table across the cafe. He still looks exactly the same, despite it having been two years since you last saw him.
“It is indeed, uh, me,” you saw, awkwardly, nervous by his forwardness. He waves you over, a clear invitation, and you walk over, all before even noticing who he’s sitting with.
“It’s been so long!” Baekhyun says, standing up and holding his hand up for a high five. You give him one, as weak and awkward as it is. It’s not that you never liked him, you were just caught off guard, and you didn’t particularly like seeing people from your past, something you’ve always tried to forget.
“Hey, sit down with us. You remember Chanyeol, right? And Jongdae, of course!”
And finally, you notice the others. Chanyeol, who grins at you with his familiar toothy smile that takes you immediately back to those college days where he’d greet you with a fist bump.
And Jongdae, who looks as if he’s trying his best to shrink into his hoodie.
He smiles at you, looking as awkward as you feel, and you smile back. It’s awkward, sure, but seeing him again -- it’s nice. Maybe you didn’t leave things off the best, maybe you drifted apart after that one incident, but he was still once the most important person in your life.
So you take a seat once your coffee is ready, and get over yourself, because the past isn’t all that bad, after all. You have so many good memories with all of them; it would be a shame to throw it all away because of that one memory, of which wasn’t even either of your faults.
And it’s nice. You’d been so involved in work lately, you’ve forgotten what it was like to laugh, to just let loose and feel young again, despite only being 24. You let yourself grow up too fast; it was good to take a break.
Baekhyun and Chanyeol lead the conversation, bringing up memories from sophomore year of you getting wildly drunk at a party, of which you cringe at and hide your face. You see Jongdae smile at you from across the table, and you can’t help the corners of your lips turning up when you smile back. You haven’t exactly addressed each other directly just yet -- there’s still an uncertainty there, a tension there that is relieved by Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s rapid chattering.
Chanyeol leaves first, saying he’s got plans with his coworker friends. Baekhyun leaves half an hour later, claiming exhaustion, and you believe it, considering how many times he’s jumped out of his seat to dramatically reenact some scene from college in excruciating detail.
Which of course, leaves you and Jongdae.
He taps his fingers on the table in a rhythm, blowing a raspberry with his lips as a sudden silence falls over the table once Baekhyun walks out the doors. The awkwardness kills you.
“How are you, Jongdae?” you say, unsure. He looks at you, as if surprised you’re speaking to him.
“I’m, uh--” he says, “I’m good. How are you, Y/N?”
“I’m also -- good,” you say. God, this kills you. To think, this is the guy you once trusted with all your secrets and now you can’t even look at him.
“I should go,” you say, if just to save both of you the embarrassment. “It was nice seeing you again.”
You stand to leave, and pretend not to notice the brief flicker of panic in Jongdae’s eyes before he quickly stops you.
“Y/N, wait,” he says, standing with you, a newfound determination in his expression and tone.
He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Do you want to get dinner, or something? Not anything fancy, we can just get like, I don’t know, some ramen from a convenience store.”
You know it’s just to take the pressure off of you, to make you comfortable, but you can’t help but tease him. “Is that all I’m worth?” you say, grinning.
His eyes widen, and you laugh.
“No, wait, that’s not what I meant, I mean, I would definitely take you somewhere fancy, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to make a move -- I mean, I just want to catch up--”
“I know, Jongdae,” you assure, patting his shoulder. “I’m just messing with you. Ramen sounds amazing, actually.”
His shoulders relax, and he chuckles. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“Neither have you, apparently,” you say, gathering the courage to poke his reddened cheeks. He frowns, drawing another laugh from you.
It’s been a while since you’ve felt like this, but you still watch yourself. The wall you’ve built so carefully over the years is there for a reason.
time.
After buying you ramen that night and walking you home, you stay in touch with Jongdae, along with his friends. It’s different, hanging out with them without the context of stressing over finals or partying a little too hard. They keep you young, though, when work is a little too rough.
“Where’s Baekhyun and Chanyeol?” you ask when you arrive at the movie theater. It’s just Jongdae there, with two tickets in his hand.
“They bailed,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Says something came up but refused to tell me what it was. Idiots.”
You chuckle, before eyeing the tickets in his hand. “You bought my ticket for me? You didn’t have to.”
“What? No, this is for my girlfriend.”
At the completely frozen, stunned look on your face, Jongdae bursts into laughter.
“I’m joking, Y/N,” he laughs. “It’s for you. The look on your face, though.”
“You--” you start, pouting. “You’re so mean.”
“Aw,” he says, throwing an arm around you as you both head into the theater. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“Jealous!” you yell out a little too loud, capturing the attention of others. “In your dreams.”
He only laughs before pressing you closer to him, leading you into the theater.
--
“Okay, but I think there’s one thing we can agree on about the movie.”
“And what’s that?” Jongdae says.
“The ending was shit.”
“Oh, definitely.”
You laugh over the sound of the radio, drifting out the car windows as streetlights pass by. It should be nearing midnight by now, the flat of the lake underneath the bridge the car drives over quiet and still, even if your laughter and chatter with Jongdae is not.
You haven’t laughed like this with him for so long, not since you’d reunited. The two of you were never quite the same, but you didn’t expect to be. There’s too much history. Even still, it felt so good to let go like this, to just be with him without having to bring up the past.
“This is my place,” you say, somewhat regrettably, when he pulls up into the driveway. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to go home yet.
“Yep,” Jongdae says. “We’re here.”
“Thanks for driving me home.”
“It’s no problem,” Jongdae says, stiff.
And you feel it again, the awkwardness in the air, like the bubble has popped. Jongdae must feel it too, because in the next second, he’s bringing it up. What you wanted to avoid.
“I feel like--” Jongdae starts, and you see him nervously gulp from the corner of your eye, “...we’ve kind of been putting off...talking.”
You blink at him. “Talking?”
“Like...you know, discussing what happened between us.”
“Oh,” you say. “I kind of figured we just had a mutual silent agreement to forget about it.”
“Forget about it,” Jongdae repeats, an ironic chuckle slipping from his mouth. “That’s all I wanted to do for two years. Forget about it. But I still see the look on your face that night in my mind every single moment I think of you.”
“Jongdae,” you say softly.
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “Past is the past, blah blah. You’re right. We should forget about it.”
You say you want to forget about it, that you should. But you’re lying to yourself, and you know it, and perhaps even Jongdae knows it.
“I haven’t been able to forget about it either,” you say, the words feeling like flames as they crawl up your throat and our of your mouth. “And I feel like -- like it’s the reason there’s still a wall between us, if that makes sense.”
“Like we’re afraid to get close again,” he says, and you nod in agreement, because he’s summed it up perfectly.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it’s two years too late. But I’m sorry. I was acting...so entitled to your attention, and I...never even knew how much you were hurting. I should have known.”
“It’s not your fault,” you say. “I promise. I shouldn’t have distanced myself so abruptly, I… It wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“No, I get it,” Jongdae says. “Trust me. I was just being a brat. I was…in love with you, and seeing you with someone else killed me. I was jealous. You did nothing wrong.”
You fumble with your fingers in your lap, unsure what to say next. You can’t help but linger on a few things, heart betraying you and swelling up a bit.
“You were in love with me?” you say, more of a small squeak than actual words.
Jongdae chuckles, leaning his head back against the headrest. “Deeply,” he says, then turns his head towards you, meeting your gaze. The streetlights, which you’d always thought were too yellow and too ghostly, reflect on his face and make him shine in all the right places.
“No past tense,” he adds on, quietly. “I never stopped.”
“Jongdae--”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, interrupting you with a small, nervous smile. “We’re still on for Friday, right? With Baek and Chan?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly after a moment of silence. “Of course.”
“Great,” he says, with that damned smile again, that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”
You want to say something back to him, but the way he’d changed the topic so quickly -- maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it after all. “Okay,” you say. “Get home safe.”
As you unlock your front door, you glance back towards the driveway, back at the car. Through the windshield, you see Jongdae swipe his hand over his face, rubbing sorely at his temples, that fake smile gone, a furrow between his brows and a pain in his eyes.
You want, more than anything, to run back down, get him out of that damn car, push him against it, and give him the kiss you both deserve.
Fear takes a hold of you though, and you can’t do anything, so you unlock your door, and detach your eyes from Jongdae, and enter your house, shutting the door firmly behind you with a finality that rings throughout your empty home.
But then you decide that’s not enough, that you can’t be afraid anymore, that the fear will not hold you back nor control you.
Wrenching your front door back open, you’re relieved to see Jongdae’s car still sitting in the driveway, and you yell his name, loud enough so that you’re sure he can hear you through his windows.
He glances up, confused, before immediately getting out of his car and looking your way.
“Y/N,” he yells, voice steady. He was getting so good at faking being okay, and that was worrying you. It was another thing you had in common with him. “Did you forget something?”
You run your hand through your hair, because this was crazy, and it was almost midnight, but this was Jongdae, your first love, your only love, and you think it was about time to make him yours.
So you launch yourself across your yard, a determination about you, and you throw your arms around him like you’ve been dying to do the day you saw him again in that coffee shop, and you kiss him with the force of eight years worth of love. It takes you back to that first kiss, the innocent one on your childhood bed, surrounded by math homework and stuffed animals. This one’s different. It has history behind it, love and warmth and so much longing.
Also, you both know how to kiss much better now.
He slips his arms around you, immediately molding into you, his grip on you tight, like he can’t get enough, like he will never get enough. His kisses are desperate, fierce, and you kiss him back with just as much ferocity, just as much desire.
You push him against his car, like you wanted, and grab a hold of his collar as you break the kiss, breathing heavily. His forehead is pressed against yours, grip on you softening as the situation dawns on you both.
“You--” he says, panting, looking for words.
You smile, almost laughing, because it’s insane how long it’s taken the both of you to do this. “I love you,” you say. “I always have.”
He smiles too, and you can’t help but to press a small kiss on his wide grin.
“I don’t want to rush you into anything,” you say, “but I mean, if it’s been about a good eight years, would you consider it rushing?”
Your fingers move from his collar to play with the top button of his shirt, hoping he gets what you mean.
And he does, if the way his eyes darken and the way he licks his lips means anything.
“On the contrary, I think this is the slowest I’ve ever taken a relationship,” he laughs, and you agree, throwing yourself in for another kiss.
Never once letting him go, you stumble into your home, shutting the door this time to not silence, but to Jongdae’s giggles as his fingers ghost over the sliver of skin just above the top of your skirt. You press your hands against his cheeks to pull him in for another kiss as he stops to push you against the wall, soft lips molding against yours, confident hands working their way under your shirt.
Eventually you find it in yourself to move away from the wall and drag Jongdae further down the hall to where your bedroom is, all the meanwhile unbuttoning his shirt one by one, pressing kisses against his lips, cheek, jaw, neck, everywhere you can reach as you trip and stumble and giggle and laugh your way to the bed.
Finally, you feel the back of your knees hit the bed, and you let yourself fall, dragging Jongdae with you as he accidentally loses his balance and falls a little too hard, struggling to catch himself in time and half lands onto you and onto the bed. You burst into laughter, pulling his head back up for a kiss, relishing in the way his smile feels against yours.
Your heart has never felt this light, this carefree, this airy.
“I love you,” you say again, just because you can.
“I love you too,” he says, taking a moment to properly look at you, a depth in his eyes that you want to lose yourself in.
But, later.
He dives back into you, burying his head into your neck as your fingers weave through his hair. His hands play at your shirt, before quickly pulling it off your head and immediately returning to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, nipping lightly along the way to your breasts.
He plays with your bra strap, pressing soft kisses around the area before pulling it down your shoulders to kiss along the soft skin underneath, taking his time -- which is sweet and all, but you’ve waited eight years.
“Jongdae,” you beg, before quickly shunning him of his own shirt and tossing it aside with yours. He gets the hint, turning his kisses into soft, playful bites.
Your bra comes off next, and Jongdae stops for a bit, looking down at you in adoration before you start to get nervous under his gaze. It’s almost as if the gravity, the weight, the reality of the situation has finally hit him and he’s realizing this is happening. That it may have once seemed impossible, but that the two of you -- no matter what -- would always somehow find your way back to each other.
“Touch me,” you say, tentatively moving his hand to your breast. You see his throat bob, before he lowers himself to kiss you again. It’s softer this time, less desperate, but it says so much.
His thumb caresses against the skin of your breast as he kisses you, his warmth on top of you comforting. Slowly, he moves down again, to your neck, when he lightly licks over the small little bites he’d left just minutes earlier, until his mouth is level with your right nipple, where he takes it into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue before kissing sweetly at the area around it.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, moving down to your belly now to leave kisses there, and he doesn’t leave any spot unkissed. You breathe heavily under his touch, his kisses, his little nips and bites here and there. His hands start to wander up your thighs, underneath your skirt, playing with the edge of your panties as he kisses just above your navel.
“Off, please,” you gasp, feeling that deep desperation within you again, a fire burning in your gut.
You feel him smile against your skin - the tease - before he obliges and pulls both your skirt and underwear off in one go. His lips ghost over your inner thighs, hands massaging at them as he moves closer and closer to where you need him to be. Your hand’s at his nape, the other clutching at the sheets of the bed. He’s barely even touched you and you’re already a mess, and you’re sure he’s loving every second of it.
Finally, he presses the flat of his tongue against you, and you arch at the feeling. He wraps his arms from under your thighs, around them, to keep you steady against him as he works his tongue into you, burying his face deeper in between in your legs. Your hands bury into his hair, and you cry out in pleasure when he starts going faster, deeper, rhythmically moving his head between you and sliding his tongue in and out of you.
Just when you feel yourself about to reach your high, he pulls away, and you whine, because it is so like him to do so. He pulls himself back up to your level with a grin on his face, licking his lips before planting a dirty, messy kiss onto you, one you moan into when his hand goes to play with your clit instead.
“You’re so responsive,” he groans into your mouth. “It’s so hot.”
“Shut up,” you say, drawing a chuckle from him.
“Can you moan louder for me, baby?” he says, before moving his fingers faster against your clit.
It does, in fact, earn him a louder moan from you, one you can’t help, but he muffles it with another kiss.
“Take off your fucking pants, already,” you say when he breaks away. You think you hear him mumble something like patience when he pulls away to unbutton his pants, and are ready to frown at him for it, until his jeans come off and his erection shows itself through the fabric of his underwear.
“Eyes up here,” he says with a smirk.
“God, you’re so annoying,” you say, before promptly flipping the two of you over so that you’re on top.
Jongdae looks surprised at your initiative, but the surprise quickly turns into pleasure when you start to rub yourself onto his clothed dick, hand firm on his chest. His hands land right on your hips, head thrown back and a deep groan escaping his lips. All the taunts and teasing are suddenly gone, his grip tight on you as you move against him slowly, but roughly.
“God,” he moans, his hands moving from your waist, to your hips, to splaying across your bare thighs, like they can’t stay still.
You sit back on his own thighs to pull his underwear off down his legs, finally letting his dick free and immediately taking it into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he swears, struggling to keep from thrusting into your mouth. You pull off, smiling up at him.
“You’re so responsive,” you say. “It’s hot.”
He laughs, pulling you back up to plant a messy kiss onto your lips. “God, I love you.”
While he repositions the both of you, moving to sit against the headboard of the bed and having you sit on top of his thighs, you grab one of the stray condoms in your nightstand drawer, lining yourself up to his cock as he looks up at you with an awe in his eyes that has you dizzy.
Finally, you feel him press into you, and moan at the feeling of fullness you know only he can give you. You take him in slowly, head thrown back as you get used to the feeling, his hand on your back to support you, your own arms thrown around his neck, your chest pressed against his.
And then, you start to move.
It’s sensual, the way you grind your hips against his. You press your forehead to his, pressing a brief kiss to his lips as you work up and down his cock, grinding up against him, breathing heavily as the fire in your gut burns. Jongdae mutters your name against your mouth, against your neck as he buries his face there, wrapping both of his arms around you tight as you move on his cock. He is all grunts and deep groans, and that along with the steady creak of the bed only makes you wetter, making the move with his cock easier as it hits all the right places.
You swear, and you moan, and you cry out his name, but you also whisper it, mutter it, into his neck, his cheek, as you beg for more, bury your nails into his skin as he thrusts up into you. You feel it coming, your release, that feeling in your lower gut that makes your toes curl, your heart swell. Your head is thrown back once more, mouth open in a silent scream, until you press your forehead back down to Jongdae’s where he looks you in the eyes with that same depth in his eyes again, perspiration on his forehead as his hair sticks to his skin.
He licks his lips, panting against you. “Come, baby,” he says. “Can you come for me?”
It hits you like a wave, an intense shiver as you arch in his arms. You feel him go stiff under you as he reaches his peak as well, your head buried in his neck, his cock deep in you.
It takes another few minutes of heavy breathing for the both of you to relax, to go limp in each other’s arms, until eventually, he peels the condom off and discards it, and you slip down underneath the covers with him, where he rests your head against his chest.
It’s quiet when your breathing dies down. You feel nothing but his heartbeat underneath your cheek, his arm around your shoulders, a gentle kiss on your head, and a small smile there too.
“You’re amazing,” Jongdae says, and you laugh, looking up at him with a smile on your face. His eyes shine with a radiance that you haven’t seen since college, and you’re so grateful to be able to see it again, to see him happy, to be with him in his happiness.
“I love you,” you say again. “To think, we could’ve done that a lot earlier if we got over ourselves faster.”
Jongdae’s laugh rumbles his entire chest, and you think you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.
“I don’t know,” Jongdae says, “I think the intense pining and longing made it even better.”
“Fair point,” you say. “From that logic, does that mean we should withhold sex until it becomes frustratingly unbearable to be around each other?”
“I think we should do it every chance we can, actually,” Jongdae says, and you roll your eyes. “Just to make up for lost time, you know?”
You hum, looking up at him with a sneaky grin on your face. “Is that a hint that you’re ready to go again?”
He smiles, pulling you in for a deep, lingering kiss, before trailing his hand back down between your legs.
“You know me so well.”
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