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jsbluu · 4 days ago

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cowgirl | p.js

“the bull i ride is not mechanical”

💿now playing: cowgirl by nicki minaj, lourdiz

❯ summary: Watching his city-girl girlfriend ride a mechanical bull in front of his childhood friends—and a crowd of sleazy locals—Jisung starts to feel both irritated and horny…but mostly horny.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: western!au, smut, boyfriend!jisung

❯ words: 3.6k

❯ tags:18+ minors dni!, jealousy, cat-calling, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampies, dom!jisung, dirty talk, overstimulation, swearing, gendered terms, literally just them fucking in cowgirl for 3k words.

Jisung had never brought a girl home for the holidays—especially not a city girl. But here he was, leaning against the doorframe of his childhood bedroom in his parents’ ranch, watching you fuss with the hem of your dress in the mirror. The corners of his mouth twitched upward. He could already hear his friends teasing him.

“Babe…” he began, sneaking up behind you to wrap a hand around your waist. “It’s just a little dive bar. You don’t have to wear a dress—”

You turned to face him, one perfectly manicured hand resting on your hip, the fabric clinging to your curves in a way that made his mouth go dry. “The dress is cute, Jisung. I’m wearing it.”

You pick up the black heels Jisung had picked out for your birthday—surprisingly pretty for a country boy with calloused hands and mud-splattered boots. Slipping them on, you smile as he takes you in from head to toe with a thick gulp.

“It’s not that it’s not cute,” he mumbles, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s just… People don’t usually dress up to drink beer around here.”

You grabbed your coat and gave Jisung a quick peck on the cheek, effectively shutting down any of his further protests. He always does this, gets in his head about the silliest things.

“Well, maybe they should,” you quipped, your heels clicking against the wooden floor as you headed for the door. “And besides, I’m not from around here.”

Jisung sighed, reaching for his own jacket while trying to ignore how the sight of you in those heels made his chest tighten. “It’s a small town, Y/N, we don’t get newcomers often. People are gonna stare.”

You paused at the door, glancing over your shoulder with a teasing smile. “Let them.”

Jisung shook his head, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile as he followed you out to his truck. The drive to the bar was quiet but comfortable, the faint hum of country music from the radio filling the car. He stole glances at you as he drove, his chest tightening every time he caught the way the traffic lights reflected off the pretty necklace settled into the cleavage of your chest.

That measly little jewel probably cost the same price as the dive bars around here, if not more. When Jisung finally parked in the gravel lot, you stepped out, your heels clicking sharply against the ground like you were walking into a five-star restaurant instead of a bar with duct-taped barstools and a jukebox that only half-worked. Jisung couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself—his friends were going to have a field day ribbing him for this.

Inside, the low hum of chatter and the twang of a guitar drifted from the jukebox, and the faint smell of beer and peanuts lingered in the air. Jisung spotted his friends immediately—Chenle, Mark, and Jeno huddled around a table in the corner, beers in hand, their laughter loud.

“There he is!” Chenle’s voice rang out over the chatter, a wide grin spreading across his face as he stood to clap Jisung on the back. His eyes flicked to you, his grin growing impossibly wider. “And this must be the city girl we’re always hearing about.” His eyes flick to your feet. “The one with fancy heels.”

“Very fancy,” Jeno added, his eyes also dropping to your shoes.

You roll your eyes and bite back a retort. Instead, you allow them to lead you to their table, which was already sticky with spilt beer and the remnants of forgotten nachos. You perched carefully on the edge of your seat, legs crossed, the hem of your dress riding just a little higher than Jisung would’ve liked. He sat beside you, thigh pressed against yours, one hand lazily draped across the back of your chair, the other resting possessively on your knee.

Mark raises his bottle toward you. “You’re a good sport for coming out tonight. Most people from the city would’ve run a mile the second they saw the mounted deer heads in here.”

“I’m not that brave,” you let out a playful chuckle, “I gotta say, they’re a little creepy.”

Just then, Jeno leaned in, nodding toward the little crowd gathered near the back of the bar. “You’re just in time. Jaemin’s up.”

All eyes turned toward the mechanical bull, where Jaemin—one of Jisung’s childhood friends, apparently known for his total lack of fear and abundance of poor judgment—was psyching himself up to take on the challenge. The operator hit the switch. The bull kicked into motion.

At first, Jaemin held on surprisingly well. Cheers echoed through the bar as he flailed his free arm dramatically, hamming it up like a true showman.

“Look at him go!” Mark hooted.

“He’s gonna break his tailbone again,” Jeno said around a mouthful of fries.

Then the bull jerked hard left—and Jaemin was launched like a rag doll, landing on his back with a loud thump and an even louder groan.

You visibly winced. “Ouch.”

Chenle caught it. Instantly.

“Aww,” he drawled, tilting his head toward you with a mischievous smirk. “That too rough for you, city girl?”

Jisung didn’t miss a beat. “Watch it.”

That only made Chenle grin wider. “What? I’m just saying, we all know you, she probably can’t handle anything that gets a little rough and tough.”

You turned slowly, lips curling into a sweet, deadly smile. “Is that right?”

Jisung shifted beside you, hand tightening just slightly on your thigh. “Babe…”

But you were already standing.

“Someone sign me up,” you said, downing the last sip of your drink and tossing your coat onto the back of your chair. “I’ll show you what a city girl can handle.”

The boys went feral. Chenle practically howled, Jeno pounded the table, and Mark nearly fell off his chair.

Jisung stared at you, his eyes sharp and teeth tight. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” you tossed over your shoulder as you made your way toward the pit.

Jisung watched you walk away, his jaw slack. “You guys are so dead if she breaks her ankle.”

You made your way, weaving through the crowd with determination, the clink of your heels on the wood floor cutting through the noise of rowdy laughter and country music. You weren’t doing this for them—not really. This wasn’t about proving something to Chenle or Jeno or any of the wide-eyed boys hollering from the table. This was about you.

You were sick of the looks. The patronising smirks. The constant “city girl” jabs. Like wearing lipstick and spending money on jewellery made you fragile. Soft. Less than.

As you approached the edge of the bull ring, a few older locals, all men, leaned against the rail, beers in hand, smirking like they’d already written you off.

“Careful up there, sweetheart,” one of them called. “That thing’s mean.” Another one chuckled. “Don’t chip a nail.”

You didn’t even look at them. Didn’t blink. Just climbed the platform with a calm, practised grace, heels disregarded now, your bare feet silent on the rubber mat as you swung one leg over the mechanical animal.

The bull was cool beneath your thighs, the leather seat slightly worn down. You wrapped your fingers around the rope, adjusted your posture, and locked your legs like you’d seen Jaemin do—except you meant business. No theatrics. No flailing limbs or cocky smiles.

The operator raised a brow at you, half amused. “You need me to show you the ropes, Princess?”

“No,” you said. “Start it.”

Behind you, the boys were still hooting—Mark yelling something incoherent, Chenle practically foaming at the mouth—but your eyes stayed fixed forward. Your jaw clenched.

You weren’t here to play cute.

You were here to hold on.

And prove every last one of them wrong.

The bull jolted beneath you with a sudden snap of motion—but you didn’t flinch.

You wrapped your fingers tighter around the rope, feeling its rough texture against your skin. Your legs locking around the bull's body, thighs flexing and back arching to hold on as tight as possible as it bucked and twisted beneath you.

The crowd leaned in, watching as you matched its rhythm with so much control. Every roll of your hips, every sway of your torso—it wasn’t just balance. It was command.

You weren’t holding on for dear life like Jaemin had. You were riding it. Owning it.

And people noticed.

“Holy hell,” someone near the front hissed through clenched teeth. Then a whistle cut through the air, followed by a crude comment that made Jisung’s knuckles go white.

“Damn, whoever she’s riding like that at night is a lucky son of a bitch.”

There were groans, gasps, even a few slow claps as you leaned back just enough to taunt gravity—and won. The hem of your dress rode high along your thighs, pink panties peeking out just enough to tease, your hair whipping around your face.

Jisung’s jaw locked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you once. His fingers drumming furiously against the beer bottle in front of him, the other hand clenched in a fist on his thigh. Every lewd comment hit him like a shot to the gut.

Mark leaned in, grinning. “Dude, your girl is killing it.”

Chenle howled beside him, half-laughing, half-stunned. “Woah. I take everything back—she might be the hot—”

“Finish that sentence, Chenle, and I will murder you,” Jiusng deadpans, making his other friends laugh.

But he wasn’t laughing.

Not even close.

All he could do was watch as you swayed effortlessly on top of that bull, powerful and magnetic, while a sea of half-drunk cowboys who didn’t deserve to look at you muttered under their breath like they were seeing something holy. And they were, except it wasn’t theirs to gawk at.

His jaw ticked. His eyes stayed locked on you. And his pulse pounded with something that felt a whole lot like possession.

Not because he didn’t want you to ride.

But because they didn’t deserve to watch.

The longer you rode, the tighter Jisung’s grip on his beer bottle hardened. He didn’t care if it smashed and sliced up his skin; nothing would compare to the rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach right now. Every time you shifted, every time your body moved with the bull, your tits bounced, dress rode up, comments flew.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

His chair scraped back across the floor with a harsh screech as he stood, the sound sharp enough to cut through the cheers. His eyes were locked on you—still moving like you belonged up there, and he hated it. He cut across the floor, ignoring the way heads turned as he passed, ignoring the crude commentary still dripping from the lips of too many drunk, wide-eyed men. He had to, if he didn’t, he’s certain he’d be facing an assault charge.

You caught him approaching from the corner of your eye just as the bull slowed, the operator eyeing Jisung warily. You gripped the rope with one hand and looked down at him, breathless but unbothered.

“Stop, Y/N,” Jisung growls, his voice carrying over the buzz of the bar. “Get down.”

Your brows lifted, chest still heaving, but before you could answer, a guy at a nearby table—cowboy hat tipped too far back, lips shiny with beer—slurred, “Aw, c’mon, man. Don’t kill the fun!”

“Yeah, man! She’s giving us a show. She’s got that bull beggin’ for mercy,” another slurred voice. Then another: “She’s got me beggin’ for mercy!”

You felt the shift immediately—not in the machine beneath you, but in the room. The energy, the tone. The cheers had morphed into something different. Something gross. Objectifying. Disrespectful.

Your eyes flicked to Jisung.

Standing at the edge of the pit, hands clenched into fists at his sides, jaw tight enough to crack. His eyes burned—worry and anger twisted together behind the fury of protectiveness. You could practically feel it pulsing from him, the way his whole body was saying: Enough.

And that’s when you made your decision.

You swung your leg over the bull and dismounted in one smooth, grounded move. The guys nearby booed. Someone whined, “Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, don’t stop now,” but you ignored them.

Because the only person in the room whose opinion mattered was the one pleading with you. You walked right up to him.

He looked at you, eyes stormy. “You’ve made your point,” he said roughly. “We can leave—”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you reached up, tugged his hat off his head, and slid it onto your own, tilting it just so.

His breath hitched.

“I may be a city girl,” you said purposefully loud enough for every invasive man in that dive bar to hear, “but I know the rule…”

You stepped in closer, chest to chest, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt.

“Wear the hat…” —your voice dropped to a whisper, sultry and teasing as your lips brushed his ear— “…ride the cowboy.”

Jisung’s breath stuttered. A growl curled low in his throat. His hand was on your lower back in a second, guiding you, almost possessively.

“Truck. Now.”

You don’t really remember much after the dive bar—just a blur of quick goodbyes, the creak of Jisung’s truck door, and the hum of tires on gravel. What sticks with you is the way his fingers curled tight around the steering wheel, the hard line of his jaw, and the thick, loaded tension hanging between you as he drove back to his family’s ranch.

That same tension that followed you up the porch, then slammed you against the living room wall. His mouth on yours—hot, messy, impatient—while old family photos rattled and fell to the floor.

And thank God his parents weren’t home. Because fuck, nothing was going to stop him from making sure you kept your promise.

Ride the cowboy.

You had no problem putting on a show for every fucker within a five mile radius—so when Jisung hooks your legs around his waist, carries you to his bedroom, and finally gets you naked, exposed and laid out bare for him, he decides he wants a show of his own.

The exclusive one.

The private one.

The one just for him.

“Sit on my cock, Y/N,” he says, voice almost pleading but overpowered with a command.

He’s looking at you, at the mess he’s made you in the last ten minutes with his tongue. You’re completely wrecked—chest falling with shaky breaths, lips swollen, skin flushed and covered in the marks he likes to leave behind. Marks he wishes were permanent.

Because look, Jisung may be desperate right now, but he’s not selfish with you. Never would be. He always makes sure you cum first—likes to wring you out until you’re trembling—before expecting you to take his cock.

“Don’t make me beg,” he mutters, leaning in, breath hot against your cheek. “Not tonight. Because I won’t.”

You pout, teasing, hips shifting to straddle him and make him twitch beneath you as he slides up the bed, resting his back against the headboard.

“But I like it when you beg.”

“And I like being the only one who sees your panties,” he bites back, eyes narrowing. “But that didn’t happen tonight, did it?”

Your smirk fades just a little, and he lets out a low growl, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

“So, sit on my cock, baby,” he says lowly, “Ride me. Because that’s the only way this is going to work tonight.”

You bite down on your lip, fingers wrapping around the base of your boyfriend’s cock as you run him through your dripping folds, teasing his head slick and slow. “God, I think I love it even more when you’re bossy.”

You breathe out—barely a whisper, words all shaky and broken because you sink down on him. Your pussy taking every impaling inch of him inside you through a single motion. Jisung’s head falls back, dilated eyes fluttering closed as his pink lips part on a sharp exhale.

“Move,” he growls instantly, hand gripping a handful of your ass, fingers digging in hard.

It’s different tonight. Jisung usually likes to take his time. Wants to feel every second of the way you fit around him—loves to savour the stretch. To sit in the feeling of knowing he’s the closest he can possibly be to you before chasing his high. But right now, that isn't that. Now there’s no patience, no softness in his tone.

This isn’t needy. It’s commanding. Dominant. And you’re not about to deny him.

You start to move—gentle at first, just to tease, rolling your hips in lazy circles as you adjust to the full size of him. And the way he watches you… it pulls a needy little sound from the back of your throat.

His eyes are glued on you. Hooded and dark. Jaw locked as he drinks in every inch of your body. The bounce of your thighs, the way your tits move with each grind, the slick drag of your cunt around him—it’s all too much and still not enough.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fingers digging into your skin, guiding your pace as you start to ride him harder. “Look at you…taking me like that.”

You toss your head back with a moan, letting his grip take over your rhythm, whilst he watches like he’s mesmerised—obsessed. Because he is.

His hands slide up your waist, thumbs brushing over your hips before he moves one to your stomach, pressing down just enough for you to feel where he is inside you.

“Right there,” he murmurs, breath catching. “You feel that? That’s mine. All fucking mine. All fucking yours.”

You whimper, grinding down harder as his cock hits that spot that always makes your legs shake. Jisung’s eyes darken even more—half-lidded, smug, wrecked.

“God, you’re so hot,” he sighs, one hand coming up to cup your breast while the other stays pressed to your stomach. “So fuckin’ good at this now.”

“Always been good at this,” you say, breathless, trying your best to stay in control—but that one comment. It has him bucking up suddenly, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips.

“Yeah?” he rasps, voice rough as his hands guide you to ride faster, harder. “You think that’s all you, baby? It’s not. I taught you this.”

Your eyes flutter, the words hitting just as deep as his cock. “Jisung—”

He grins proudly. “I made you this good. Trained you to ride my cock just like that. Look at you—fuck—you take me like you were made for me.” His thumb brushes over your clit, teasing and pressing. “My perfect fucking girl.”

You can’t even form a proper response—just moan and clench around him as you chase your high, the pleasure climbing fast and sharp.

“Remember when you couldn’t even take half of me without crying?” he murmurs, grinning through gritted teeth.

You lean forward, palms on his chest, moving faster, harder, desperate. "Jisung," you gasp, nails digging into his skin. "I'm close—"

The tension in your body reaches a breaking point. The desperate roll of your hips, the way he hits all the right spots—it’s too much. And then, fuck, it hits. The pleasure crashes over you, your pussy trembling, clenching around him like a vice. You collapse forward into his neck, kissing along the curve of his skin as you whine, your orgasm rippling through you, gripping tight around his cock.

But Jisung doesn’t stop. He holds your hips in place, groaning as your walls flutter around him, his cock continuing to slide in and out of your pussy with a punishing force.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep going, baby. Keep riding your cowboy like you promised.”

You can barely catch your breath, but his words push you forward. You force yourself to keep moving, keep meeting his thrusts even as your body trembles, still sensitive from your orgasm. His cock stays hard inside you, unforgiving, and his hands guide your every motion—pushing you to put on a show for him—for him alone.

“Fuck,” he groans again, his eyes locked on the way your body bounces over him. “Atta girl, Make it good for me.”

Your legs are burning from the effort, but you won’t disappoint him. You want him to feel as good as you do. So you push yourself harder, your hips rolling down onto him with all the control you can muster. The wet, slick sounds of your movements mix with the breathless moans escaping your lips.

Jisung’s hands slip down lower, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing small, teasing circles that have you gasping. It’s as if he’s trying to kill you with the over-stimulation, and with the way he looks at you, you know—this is his way of punishing you for how mad he was earlier.

“I fucking love the way you ride me, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice rough. “You’re so fucking perfect—Fuck… I’m gonna cum,” he groans. His hands move to your waist, pulling you down harder against him, forcing you to take him deeper.

“Please,” you rasp, breathless. “I want to feel you… all of you.”

His hips thrust upward, meeting yours as he struggles to hold off any longer. With a final, guttural groan, his entire body tenses, and he cums deep inside you, holding you in place. You feel him pulse, his cock twitching as he rides out his orgasm, each throb shooting thick ropes of his cum inside you. His breath is fast, uneven, and his eyes are completely consumed by the sight of you, by the way your body moves with his.

He pulls you close, letting you collapse against him completely as a lazy smile spreads across his face. “Fuck, baby, what have you done to me?” he murmurs, “I think you’re gonna have to ride me every time we fuck from now on.”

Now that doesn’t sound like a bad idea…

#jsbluu recs #OH MY GOD #fun fact i was at that concert where that pic of him was taken ‼️

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jsbluu · 4 days ago

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diet pepsi | n.jm

“losing all my innocence in the back seat”

📀now playing: diet pepsi by addison rae

❯ summary: Jeno has one rule — his little sister is not allowed at street races. Jaemin knows this, and still, he can’t help but feel a thrill when he spots you sneaking out to watch him race. That is, until he sees you with another guy, and suddenly, he’s all in favor of Jeno’s rule. And he’s pretty sure that rule also means he should intervene and give you a ride home.

❯ pairings: jaemin x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: brother’s best friend, smut, racing!au

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, arguing, jealously, pet names, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, bit of angst, ‘daddy’ mentioned once but not in a kink way?, jaemin is lowkey a dramatic asshole in the first half, mention of marking, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just a jealous brother’s best friend trope because it eats every time

Jaemin’s blood runs cold when he sees you—wait, what are you even doing here?

He’s never been so tense in the driver’s seat before. He’s usually all calm and controlled, razor-focused on the track, with only one thing on his mind: winning. And he’s pretty damn good at it. But today, he can’t seem to focus. Not with you—Jeno’s little sister—standing right there on the sidelines, sticking out like a beacon in a crowd of rowdy onlookers.

So out of place, timid and awkward. Normally, he’d find it cute if he wasn’t so pissed that you’re even here. You don’t belong among his reckless racer friends, the ones with wandering eyes; and the girls with short skirts, heavy perfume, and sharp eyeliner.

He’s never been this distracted at the starting line before, never found anything particularly interesting to gaze at through his freshly cleaned windshield. But there you are.

Ripped blue jeans clinging to every curve that he’s spent years thinking about—too many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining how his fingers would mold and print into the soft flesh of your skin. And those cherry-red lips—they make pride swell in his chest, a small thrill from knowing he’s the only racer here with a red car. It’s probably just a coincidence, but Jaemin lets the possessive part of his mind take over, because he wants nothing more than to see that red smeared around your cheeks as he kisses you—wants it to stain him like a claim.

God, what’s he even thinking?

You’re his best friend’s little sister. Off-limits.

Speaking of which, why are you here? Jeno’s not racing tonight, and he’d kill you if he found out. Actually, Jeno would kill him, even though Jaemin had no idea you’d even show up. Jeno hated you being at the races on a good day, let alone when he wasn’t here to keep an eye on things.

And maybe that’s why, for the first time, Jaemin’s gaze drifts to his side mirror as he speeds off. Because Jeno’s not here to watch over you—so he has to. Yeah, that’s it. It’s for Jeno’s sake. Definitely not because he’s worried about you. And definitely not because he likes the way your cherry-red lips part in a cheer—a cheer he likes to imagine is all for him.

Who’s he kidding? Jaemin loves knowing you’re here, watching him race. Honestly, it’s the biggest rush he’s ever felt—the purest shot of adrenaline—and he’s never pushed this hard on the track. But right now, he only wants to win for you.

And he does, slamming on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt the second he crosses the finish line. A few friends clap him on the back as he gets out of his car, congratulating him, but he doesn’t care about them. He only wants you—to hear you say he did great, to see that proud look in your eyes. He wants you to beg him not to yell at you for sneaking in tonight… or worse, promise he won’t tell Jeno.

Except, Jaemin’s not so sure he can negotiate on the “no yelling” part of that deal. Not when he spots you in the crowd, looking up at Jisung. Jisung, who’s got your attention on him instead of his win. Jisung, who’s making you laugh—and Jaemin knows he’s not that funny. Jisung, who’s handing you a can of Diet Pepsi—and you’re just taking it, smiling at him with those red lips, lips that don’t belong to him.

Jaemin knows Jisung doesn’t have a bad bone in his body—Christ, the guy wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he’s one of his racer friends. Still, he doesn’t like the way you lean in when you laugh or how you’re looking up at him with pretty eyelashes fluttering. It makes something stir in him, something sharp and possessive. Without thinking, he storms over, snatching the damn can from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.

You gasp, the sound almost too soft, "Woah, Jaem–"

"What are you doing here, Y/N?

You stumble back, heart skipping in your chest. He’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you whole. Gaze locked with yours, primal and urgent, scanning you with a heat that makes your breath hitch, throat going suddenly dry. You came here to see him—no one else. But the way his eyes are on you now...you don’t know whether telling him that would be a good idea.

You swallow hard, feeling small beneath the weight of his stare. “I—uh, I—I’m just… here to watch,” you mumble. "I didn’t think it’d be a big deal..."

Jaemin doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing as they flick over you, then over to Jisung, then back to you. "Alone?" he finally asks. "You just showed up here by yourself?"

“Well yeah–I didn’t think anyone would mind..."

"Jeno’s gonna fucking kill you when he hears about this," he mutters exhaling sharply, the tension in his jaw is visible as he crosses his arms. "You know he doesn’t like you being here.” His eyes flicker to Jisung for a moment before they shift back to you, a little colder. "And I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know you’re accepting drinks from other racers, huh?”

Your brow furrows, a tinge of annoyance creeping in. "It’s just a can of Diet Pepsi, it’s not—"

Jaemin cuts you off. "It doesn’t matter what it is," he snaps. "What matters is that you’re here, without telling anyone where you were going. Without Jeno knowing." He shakes his head in disbelief.

You scoff. "I’m an adult, Jaemin. Jeno’s not my keeper, and neither are you–"

Jaemin’s jaw tightens, and something flickers in his eyes—something dark. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. "That’s not the point, Y/N," he growls, his voice lowering. "The point is you’re here, at a street race, by yourself. You think that’s smart? You think that’s safe?" He takes a step closer. "What if something happened to you?"

"I’m fine, Jaemin. I can take care of myself, okay?" Your voice cracks, frustration spilling out, but the sound doesn’t make Jaemin soften like it usually would.

He steps even closer, towering over you, his presence dominating, and you can feel his breath on your face, hot and quick. “This—this shit—" he gestures around to the crowd, the cars, the racers that surround you both, "this is not safe for you. You shouldn’t be here."

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, jaw set as you refuse to back down. "Why? You and Jeno come here every other weekend?” What’s the big deal?"

"The big deal, Y/N, is that you're a pretty girl, surrounded by a bunch of horny assholes who'd love nothing more than to corrupt a sweet little thing like you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mouth goes dry as his words hit you like a punch. You blink, trying to process, but the anger in his eyes is enough to make your pulse quicken. Jaemin must realize what he’s said because there's a brief moment of hesitation. He clears his throat, trying to regain control.

"And you never told anyone," he tries to add, his voice a little less steady now, "And you're letting random guys buy you drinks—"

"I already told you. It was just a Diet Pepsi, Jaemin. You’re blowing this way out of proportion!" You cut him off.

You don’t even know what you’re arguing about anymore— and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t either—it’s like he’s mad for the sake of being mad, the two of you going around in circles.

And frankly, you're tired of it. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You’ve always had a thing for Jaemin, and now was supposed to be your chance—your shot to make him see you as more than just Jeno’s little sister. You knew he’d be distracted with the race, but you thought if you showed up, maybe he’d finally notice you, really see you. But instead, he’s making it perfectly clear that you’ll never be anything more than that girl he feels the need to protect.

“Stop treating me like a child, Jaemin,” you sigh. “I’m not some fragile little girl who needs you to babysit her."

You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from him, but before you can take more than a few steps, Jaemin’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No. We’re not done talking."

He steps forward again, grip on your limbs tight but not painful, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s pulling you toward the exit, the sound of your shoes hitting the pavement is far too loud in the heavy silence that’s settled.

"Jaemin, wait!" You tug against him, stumbling slightly, trying to free your wrist from his grasp. "I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you, I don’t need you babysitting me—"

"I’m not asking." His voice is low and final. "You’re going home, and you’re going with me."

"Let go of me!" You hiss, still trying to yank free, but he just tightens his grip, pulling you with him as if you’re a ragdoll.

Jaemin finally stops, turning to face you, his eyes sharp with frustration. He growls at your protesting, stepping into your personal space. "I’m taking you home, Y/N. Don’t argue with me."

You stare up at him, chest heaving with anger and something else—something you don’t want to admit to yourself. "You’re insufferable," you mutter, but it’s weak.

You know you’re defeated. There’s no point in fighting him anymore. His presence is suffocating, overwhelming, and every fibre of your body knows he’s not going to let this go until he’s got you back home. You have no choice but to comply really. And you groan whilst slipping into the passenger seat of his car, imagining the story he’s going to muster up for your brother.

Jaemin gets into the driver’s seat, his body tense and irritated, and you almost feel bad that he can’t celebrate his win—almost. He places the can of Diet Pepsi in the cup holder, the soft clink of the can echoing through the car. Then, without breaking his focus, his gaze flicks to you, his voice low and commanding.

“Seatbelt.”

You huff, rolling your eyes as you slide it on. “Yes, daddy.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, Jaemin’s jaw tightens, the muscle flexing under his skin. His eyes darken for a split second, a dangerous glint flashing, something that makes your pulse stutter for just a moment. His fingers curl around the steering wheel, gripping it a little tighter than necessary as he tries to compose himself.

He clears his throat, shifting slightly in his seat, nostrils flaring. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”

You sink into your seat with a sigh. The silence in the car hangs as he drives, thick with awkwardness and annoyance. Your throat still feels dry from the argument, and before you can even think about it, you reach for the can. The cold metal soothes your fingertips. But the second your lips brush against the rim, you can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you—hot, intense, and focused.

You can feel him watch your every move, and as you pull the drink away from your lips, his eyes narrow in on the red stain your lipstick left on the silver rim. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, jaw tightening with it, his gaze flickering between your lips and the can in your hand. Without warning, he snatches it from your fingers, one hand still on the wheel, eyes focused and full.

Then, Jaemin presses his own lips against the spot where yours just were, right over the mark you left. Sipping the drink slowly — savouring it.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice a little breathless, startled.

Jaemin’s eyes widen, and for a split second, his grip tightens on the can before he abruptly pulls it away from his mouth, tossing it into the cup holder without a second glance. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of his own actions, as if he’s suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must look. His mind is reeling—over a simple lipstick mark on the rim of a can. Something so innocent, yet it’s driving him crazy.

He clears his throat, trying to regain an ounce of composure, but his voice cracks slightly. "I was, uh..." He hesitates, biting back a sharp breath, his eyes flickering to the road before snapping back to you. "Just making sure it wasn’t spiked…?"

It sounds weak, even to his own ears, and he knows you’re not buying it. The way your lips part tells him everything. You narrow your eyes at him, a little too sharp for comfort.

“Spiked?” You glance at the cup holder, where the can now sits innocently. “How would you even know from the taste, Jaemin? Not to mention Jisung gave me this, that boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Jaemin knows that. Still, he curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair as the frustration builds in his chest. His entire excuse is a mess, just like the thoughts spinning in his head.

"Look, let’s call it precautionary, okay?" His voice is clipped and there’s a tightness to it. "Don’t make it a big deal."

You lean back in the seat, a small bitter laugh escaping you. “Me making things a big deal? Oh, the irony.”

He doesn’t respond or bite back or try for the final word and it makes the silence thicker. Jaemin’s grip on the wheel is so tight his knuckles are white, and honestly, you don’t know how long you can keep doing this.

“You're impossible, you know that?" The words slip out before you can stop them, and your chest tightens as soon as they do. "I didn't come here for you to babysit me or make me feel like I need your protection. I came here because I—" You stop yourself.

Jaemin's head snaps to you, "Because you what?"

For a second, you can’t speak. The words are right there, but they feel too big, too much to let out. You’re caught between the urge to spill it all or keeping it hidden, scared to change the dynamic. But you’ve been pretending for too long, playing by the rules, and now, you want to stop hiding.

“I came here because I wanted you to see me,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Not as Jeno’s little sister. Not as some kid. I wanted you to see me… as me.”

Jaemin doesn’t react, not at first – well, he does, but it’s subtle. His hands go completely white around the wheel, his jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear it. Without saying a word, he pops the indicator on and pulls over, the tyres screeching slightly as he brings the car to a sudden stop.

You freeze, and a small wave of panic bubbles up inside your chest. Did you say the wrong thing? Did you make it weird? He’s your brother’s best friend, and now you’ve crossed that weird line that’s bound to make everything awkward. Jeno’s gonna kill you.

You swallow hard, waiting for him to snap, to tell you how messed up this whole thing is.

But he kisses you.

His hand on your cheek, without warning, pulling you into him, and consuming your lips with a force that steals the air from your lungs. It’s not gentle like you expected him to be. He’s typically always gentle with you — unless he’s mad, which right now, he is. This kiss is desperate. Hungry. And you like it because it’s the kind of kiss that makes your body forget how to breathe. The kind of kiss that tells you he doesn’t see you like a kid – like Jneo’s little sister.

“You drive me fucking insane, you know that?” Jaemin growls, nudging your noses together. His hands find your waist, to grip it. “You walk around in those jeans clinging to your ass, with your cheeks flushed, and that fucking lipstick the same shade as my car.”

You giggle softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You noticed?”

“Of course I fucking noticed,” he groans.

Jaemin’s lips trail down your jawline, each kiss slow, and teasing, and needy. The desperation in his movements is evident like he’s trying to savour every inch of your skin. The feeling is foreign to you—each soft press of his lips sends a rush of heat through your body. The simple touches make you gasp, drawing a low, satisfied groan from him as he feels the reaction in your body.

His breath catches, lips brushing softly along the sensitive curve of your neck as he pulls you closer. His hands tighten around your waist, and the pleading in his voice intensifies, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in it. He’s holding back, trying to keep his composure.

“Tell me this is a bad idea, Y/N,” he whispers, his lips grazing your skin with kisses. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Your breath is shallow and you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. The way your hands find their way into his hair, fingers threading through it as you desperately tug on it, unsure of what else to do.

“Please, angel, you have to say no,” he murmurs into your neck, his voice low and desperate.

“Don’t want to,” you whimper, shaking your head again. “Want you, Jaem. Always wanted you. Only you.”

"Fuck..." he groans, his lips trailing away from your skin to look at you.

And what a pretty sight you are. Eyes glazed with lust, pupils blown wide, dilated with something raw and needy. So innocent, so forgiving, so eager – so fucking his. It’s enough to make him painfully hard, though he was already straining. Hearing you say you've always wanted him – and only him – had already sent a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Jaemin can’t help himself. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek again, his thumb teasing the softness of your bottom lip. You gasp, and his pupils darken, fixating on the way your mouth parts, the red colour staining his thumb. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of—a perfect fantasy.

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, gorgeous.”

He’s still hesitating, and you can feel it — you fucking hate it. Something takes over you, and without thinking, you take his thumb into your mouth, deep, sucking hard. Jaemin practically growls, his lips parting as a hiss escapes him from the sight.

A switch flips, and in one smooth, deliberate motion, he yanks his thumb from your mouth, kills the engine, and climbs into the backseat. His eyes are sharp as they focus on you, which tells you to follow suit. He doesn’t care that on paper this is a ‘bad idea’. His cock is telling him it’s the best one he’s ever had.

It’s clear the moment you climb into the backseat, the way his body shifts into something animalistic. You try to settle beside him, but Jaemin doesn’t let that happen. He grips the hem of your shirt, yanking you down and onto his lap. The heat from his body radiates through the thin fabric of your clothes, his chest pressing hard against yours as his hands slide possessively around your waist.

His hands roam down your back and you can feel the hard press of him against your ass. It makes your pulse spike and your sweet red lips fall open for him, making him smirk with pride. His lips trail down to your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he murmurs your name, low and rough.

It’s all-consuming. Hot and desperate. Panting and breathless. Bodies moving in sync. The car heats up from your bodies softly grinding against each other. His hands are everywhere.

“Angel,” he growls, his voice low with restraint, “if you keep grinding on me like that, I won’t be able to stop.”

You bite your lip, keeping your rhythm steady, your hips pressing into his. “Good.”

Jaemin catches a hand around your jaw pulling you away from his lips. “I’m serious, Y/N. Are you sure you want this?”

You nod, your gaze heavy with need.

He shakes his head, “I need words, gorgeous.”

“I want this.”

Such a simple phrase shatters his restraint, unravelling him completely. With a growl, he tosses you onto the back seat, lips trailing hotly down your body until he’s between your legs. His fingertips graze the waistband of your jeans, and he leans in, voice a low whisper.

“Can I?”

You nod, but he shakes his head, his eyes dark with hunger. “Say it.”

“Yes...” You breathe, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s all he needs.

The jeans slide down your hips and ass, past your thighs, until they’re bunched around your ankles. Jaemin’s eyes flicker down, landing on your panties—darkened with dampness.

"So wet from just a little grinding?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So fucking cute."

A rush of heat floods your chest. You’ve never done this before. And suddenly, it’s all too much, too fast. His words, your own desperate need, the car, the argument... everything crashes together. Without thinking, you press your legs closed, embarrassed by your body's reaction.

Jaemin's brows furrow as he watches you closely. "You okay?"

Your cheeks burn with a blush, stuttering as you struggle to find your voice. "I-I-uh," you falter, hoping he’ll say it, ask you the question. But he doesn’t. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, waiting for you to say it.

"I’ve never done this before."

Jaemin’s eyes flicker with something dark before he hums lowly. “You still want this?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Words, Y/N.”

“God—yes.”

A satisfied smirk curves on his lips. “Good,” he murmurs. “Your body’s a fucking work of art I’ve been dying to see, and I never want you to feel embarrassed about showing it to me—and only me, yeah?”

This time, you don’t nod. You meet his gaze, voice steady as you tell him, “Yes. Only you.”

He smiles, hands resting on your knees as he gently eases them apart, his gaze fixed on you, completely mesmerized. If someone had told him this was how he’d be celebrating his win tonight, he’d have laughed in disbelief.

But now, his knuckles brush over the front of your underwear, a feather-light touch that sends a spark through you. Your hips react on their own, bucking slightly as his fingertips tease your sensitive nerves through the thin damp fabric.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

He drags his fingers to your waistband, sneaking underneath to run a soft finger up your slit, drawing a gasp from your lips. He takes that as permission to slip the pair down your legs, meeting the same fate as your jeans somewhere in his car.

Jaemin keeps his eyes dead set on you as his fingers work to find your clit. The moment he does, he starts working slow, taunting patterns against it, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The sensation is leg-numbing, sending waves of pleasure through you—so much better than when you do it yourself.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, “I wanna know how I’m making you feel. Tell me.”

Your mind is spinning, words slipping through your grasp, and all you can manage is a choked, incoherent moan. It’s not enough for him. Dissatisfied, he sinks his middle finger into your pussy at your silence. You jolt at the intrusion, the feeling intense and foreign, but his eyes stay locked on you, waiting.

“Tell me,” he groans, relishing in the feeling of how tight you grip around his finger.

“F-feels good,” you manage to stammer.

“Yeah?” he taunts, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly picks up the pace. “Want more?”

“Yes–” you nod eagerly. He wastes no time, slipping his ring finger inside to join the first, matching the rhythm, savouring the warmth encapsulating around him, and you unravel beneath him.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, breaths shallow and quick, completely undone from the tortuous pace of his fingers. Jaemin’s expression softens as he takes you in, a quiet, satisfied coo slipping from his lips.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, “So sweet… so vulnerable just for me.”

A low chuckle escapes him as he feels your walls threatening to tense, wanting to flutter around his fingers, and it sends another wave of pride through him. He shifts his eyes down, and without hesitation, takes your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue in slow, devastating circles.

If he’s going to make you cum for the first time, it’ll be on his fingers and his mouth—he’ll make sure of it.

“S-so good, Jaem—” you gasp, voice trembling as his mouth and fingers work in perfect sync, pushing you closer to the edge.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips still pressed to your skin. “Gonna let go for me, huh? Let me feel it.”

His words, his touch—it’s all too much, and you can feel every nerve on fire as he coaxes you over the edge until you’re cumming from the steady rhythm of his fingers and the relentless, teasing laps of his tongue. You're a shuddering mess beneath him from the orgasm he’s given you.

He fucking loves it, looking in complete awe.

As you start to come down, muffled whines still slip from your lips, riding out the aftershocks of your release.

“What is it?” he prods, his voice smooth but persistent, but all you can manage is a frustrated sigh, annoyed with his stupid teasing tone. “Angel..I don’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”

"All I want is—" You gasp when he lightly brushes your sensitive clit again,"—your cock."

A smug smirk tugs at his lips. His hand slides to rest possessively on your hip as he moves to hover above you, his gaze locking with yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, your lashes fluttering with need, and he takes that as permission to rid himself of his pants, his hand wrapping firmly around the base of his cock. He positions himself carefully, just at the edge of your pussy.

It’s not how you’d pictured your first time—definitely not the romantic, cute scenario you’d always fantasized about. But one thing was certain: Jaemin was here, and that’s all that really mattered. Though, you hadn’t expected him to be this… big.

He picks up on the hesitation in your eyes, sensing the tension coiling tight in your chest.

With deliberate slowness, he slides his length teasingly between your drenched folds, making your breath catch as your nerves tense.

“I’ll take it slow,” he pulls down to murmur against your lips.

You nod, your lip caught between your teeth, biting down hard enough to taste the metallic tang as he presses his tip against your cunt. His other hand grips your hip, his fingers digging in as he applies pressure, holding you in place. He stays perched above you, eyes fixed on your face.

"Keep looking at me," he says, watching the way your face squirms. "Please."

His begging has you fighting to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, staying locked on him as you watch the way his pink lips part, the way they twitch, holding back a moan when he inches forward just enough to feel his tip slip past the threshold.

He pushes forward in a slow, savouring motion, and when he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. Your brows furrow, caught between the sting of pain and the rush of pleasure. His teeth catch his lower lip, holding it there as a low, skin-tingling moan rumbles deep in his chest, his body staying still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Please move,” you beg, barely able to get the words out, desperation lacing your voice.

He struggles to keep his breathing steady as he watches your face, studying it for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s sure you’re fine, he begins to draw his hips back slowly, his movements deliberate and deep, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward, filling you again.

Your eyes want to flutter shut, the bliss almost too much to keep conscious but you want to please him. Jaemin pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into it, the sound pulling a breathless, stomach-knotting whine from him.

He increases his pace, and you cry out, your head falling back as your hips begin to meet his. One of Jaemin’s hands tightens around the side of your waist, grounding you as he drives deeper, faster, harder — greedy.

You move feverishly, hips bucking wildly as you try to take him deeper, craving the way his cock stretches you, hitting every nerve with overwhelming pleasure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he gasps. "Keep looking at me. I wanna see how pretty you look when I’m making you feel good."

You can only respond with a breathless gasp that catches in your throat as he buries himself deeper, rolling against you whilst your nails dig into the fabric on his shoulders.

His hand slips from your hip for a moment, reaching for your fingers to guide them down where your bodies are connected. His fingers curl around yours, bringing your hand to your throbbing clit. You take the hint, fingers moving instinctively to find the sensitive bundle, desperate to ease the tightness building in your abdomen.

"Not gonna last long, angel," he breathes, his voice ragged. "But I need you to feel good."

"Fuck," you whimper. Your hips begin to writhe, chasing the pleasure as every part of your body burns with need.

“So fucking warm and wet and tight,” he groans, forehead slick with sweat.

Your bodies feel like they’re burning, the car steaming up with heat, the windows fogging so thickly that you leave a handprint on the glass as you steady yourself against Jaemin’s building deliberate thrusts.

He’s fucking into you with an erotic urgency, as if he’s trying to spill out every fantasy he’s ever had about you since Jeno introduced you. It’s like he’s remembering, all at once, that he’s broken all the rules—off-limits, bro code—and he doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t regret it one bit. Because the feel of you on his cock is totally worth it.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, your muscles contracting and fluttering around him. The feeling overwhelms you, and it only encourages him to slow his rhythm, to drag out your orgasm as long as possible.

Jaemin finally caves, moving his face to nuzzle against you. Your hands find his hair, tugging him up so you can kiss along his neck, your lipstick staining his flesh, marking him with that signature red colour.

You keep your hips rolling with his, even after the earth-shattering orgasm he’s just given you. Every cry, whimper, and moan spills from the back of your throat at the force of him, your voice chanting his name in a string of desperate mumbles. Your body convulses and shakes as you clamp around his length, and he grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

He snaps his hips upward, grinding his body against you to savour the feeling. His muscles begin to shudder, jolting as he gasps for air, his own orgasm hitting him hard.

Hearing and feeling him lost in so much bliss only stretches the aftershocks of your release, both of you a mess of limbs and shameless sounds. Then, you feel him still completely, his release erupting in warm spurts, filling you and making you feel full of him. He’s everywhere—his scent, his kisses, his cum.

You’re left utterly spent, like a limp puddle, but Jaemin stays closely intertwined with you. You both inhale ragged breaths, neither of you daring to break apart. You’re reduced to fluttering glances weak panting and slick skin.

Jaemin’s eyes shift toward the side window, his fingers gently combing through your hair before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

And when he finally tries to move, there's a sudden clink, and the faint sound of liquid splashing. You both glance down at the Diet Pepsi can now toppled over and spilling its contents all over the car seat. A muffled chuckle escapes Jaemin's lips as he shakes his head.

“That stupid fucking drink,” he mutters with a grin.

“You should be grateful,” you hum, “Without it, we probably would never have fucked.”

Jaemin shakes his head and laughs, but the humour quickly fades as his expression turns serious. He leans in close again, his lips brushing yours.

“Not true,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted you ever since I met you. I would’ve made a move eventually.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilt your head, teasing him. “What’s been stopping you?”

“Jeno,” Jaemin says quietly, and it’s like it hits you both at once.

Your stomach twists in knots, the mention of your brother, Jaemin’s best friend, suddenly making everything feel... wrong.

“What are we gonna tell Jeno?”

#jsbluu recs

4K notes · View notes

jsbluu · 7 days ago

Note

MILLIE HES JUST FEEDING MY CAMBOY AGENDA ATP

that camboy. p.js

i umm… this is wayyy longer than i intended but i got carried away

camboy!jisung who never admits to anyone he’s a camboy,,, the way he started? haechan laughing at him again for the way he’s never been laid but has such a big dick, all those inches and no idea what to do with them. his face flushed red because he’s only ever had his own hands to deal with… that, so embarrassing to always be laughed at for the same thing for years now. so some night later, when he was scrolling down another site, half hard in his sweats and really needing to release the tension, the thought hit him. something to prove.

camboy!jisung’s first video, dark, blurry lighting, iphone in one hand, hard dick in the other, front camera angled down to hide his face above his pretty lips, clumsily jerking off to the faint sounds of some porn video in the background, his soft breathing and quiet, low moans, ‘til he cums all over his phone, like… 3 minutes long. wiping away the cum off his screen, and posting the video before he can think about it. and then he went to sleep, trying to forget it. like he’d get any views anyways. oh… jisung was so wrong about that.

camboy!jisung’s first video explodes across the cam site, so clumsy but something about how amateur this boy with bitten, parted lips and a big, veiny cock is charming. constant comments about his huge hands, dms wanting dick pics, tips pouring in, 99+ notifications when jisung wakes up to his screen flooded with notif tabs. oh. people liked it…? and no one knows who he is. thousands of followers just for one 3 minute video.

camboy!jisung never shows his full face on camera, it’s part of his appeal, this pretty, hidden boy and his secrets. videos taken in the mirror, his long legs spread and head tilted back, shaky camera when he’s close, sticky ropes of cum spilling on his adidas sweats and long fingers, cropped to hide his upper face. voice-only cam streams, thousands of viewers sending him $50 for him to moan their name while he slowly jerks off, lewd sounds and panting whines, rustles of his sheets and his low, deep voice like an asmr. hundreds of dollars paid for exclusive nudes and lewds, constant dms begging to do a collab.

…

camboy!jisung… can’t keep secrets forever, can he? not when he meets you, the kind of crush that has him instantly smitten, maybe shy attracts shy? awkward but cute first dates, wait, where did a college student get so much money from to spend buying you flowers every date? especially when he works part time as an unpaid dancer. there’s something that makes him cough and brush it off whenever you ask if he’s spending too much money on this dinner date when jisung doesn’t want to split the check. cute kisses after he walks you home, biting his lip when he gets home because how much longer can he keep his secret? would you… still like him back?

camboy!jisung whose secret is exposed during a movie night. opening his laptop to choose a movie when he goes to make popcorn, only to open to a cam site. a quick scroll shows his photos, videos, thousands of followers, and dms. jisung… are you a camboy? poor boy with his hands holding a bag of popcorn, god, he’s so nervous you’ll dump him right then and there, his voice a quiet mumble. um… yeah. i didn’t know how to… tell you. is it… not okay with you? jisung’s heart about to beat out of his chest, ‘cause he’s pretty sure his heart is about to be broken in 10 seconds, he’s so scared. until you tug him down by his shirt collar to kiss him, i love you, of course it’s okay. the kind of clumsy, losing your virginity to each other sex, now there’s no more secrets. (and jisung learns getting laid is so much better than his hand)

that cam couple everyone envies, ‘cause you’re so obviously obsessed with each other, jisung’s account now filled with your sex tapes. uploads of his fingers knuckles deep in your pussy while you’re sitting in his lap, his low, quiet voice murmuring dirty thoughts to you, but barely audible to your audience. his hands gripping your hair as he pushes your head down, lewd sounds of sucking him off, loving praises laced with his breathy moans. like… how can one couple upload so many videos every week,, not even including the sex you have off screen? so insane in love.

dms asking for collab? blocked.

#jsbluu recs #oh my fucking GOD.#need cam couple IMMEDIATELY

395 notes · View notes

jsbluu · 9 days ago

Text

ꨄ I'M JEALOUS AND I'M GOING CRAZY

BACKSTAGE WITH IDOL BF JISUNG

pairings: park jisung x fem! idol reader genre: fluff wc: 0.9k warnings: jealousy (it's cute tho I promise!) + they makeout notes : found this hidden away in the drafts guys.. no idea if it's proofread 🧍‍♀️| LIBRARY

EDIT!! if you saw the drama mentioned in the notes... no you didn't I DO NOT SUPPORT yk who's behaviour and COMPLETELY forgot to take it out before posting, im very sorry gang 🙏

Jisung is confused. Beyond it in fact.

"Just tell me what it is," his voice echoes, earning a few too many unwanted stares as he runs down the hall.

Oh, the things he does for you

You're not letting up, and he's been trailing after you ever since you decided that running through the multiple empty dressing rooms backstage was a good idea, for whatever reason.

Well, you weren't really running, more so speed walking away from him, weaving in and out of hallways and doors.

Had it not been for your practically fluorescent outfit from the stage you'd just performed, he'd barely have been able to catch sight of you bolting away from him in the first place.

Jisung's certain you'd never been this fast before, practically out of breath from following after you.

Combined with the fatigue from his performance a few minutes ago and trailing after you like a lost puppy, Jisung begins to grow tired

Again he's not entirely sure why you're doing it, or what you're doing really, but if it has anything to do with the small pout on your lips and the slightly puffed out cheeks you wear then maybe Jisung has a few ideas

it doesn't take a genius to figure out something has you upset, not upset in a heartbroken way, or else Jisung would have noticed any tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but more in a way that somethings bothering you.

Though it doesn't matter much to Jisung just how upset you are, clearly not very, all that does matter is that you are.

And usually Jisung was an expert at reading you, knowing what was wrong like some psychic mind reader with a purple globe in his palms with one single glance at you— if you'd just look at him— which you hadn't since the good luck kiss he'd planted on your cheek before you went up on stage exactly an hour ago.

When he stepped off stage today, ready to pull you into his arms and let himself bask in the sweetness of your praise, telling him how well he did on stage, you weren't there and Jisung's big gummy smile dropped at the sight of you, straight faced lying across the couch in his dressing room instead.

Honestly speaking, he had no idea what could have possibly gone wrong in the last hour, but he was certainly determined to find out.

"You guys did great out there" you smiled as the group of 7 piled into the room, genuine but small, congratulating all of his members, as you usually did, only you didn't spend any time gushing over him.

Safe to say your boyfriend had noticed, and now, as you find yourself reaching a dead end with no escape, you know you're going to have to come face to face with Jisung, and the ugly green feeling bubbling inside of you

His arms hang low at your waist when he finally catches you in the middle of your dressing room, a slight smirk across his lips at the victory of stopping you from running away.

"Look at me baby" his two fingers hold your chin to guide your head so it would tilt upwards and face him.

"What's up?"

You shake your head, gaze darting left and right to avoid his eyes. Jisung chuckles to himself

"Tell me what's wrong, come on, please?" he follows your eyes as they change direction, shifting so he's the only thing in your line of sight.

You sigh, crossing your arms, lips protruding outwards, "You'll laugh, Sung."

Gosh, Jisung just wants to smash his lips against yours— but there are bigger problems at hand– like his awfully pouty girlfriend standing sulking in front of him.

"You know I'll never laugh at you," he says, soft and kind. You hate that it makes the ugly feeling inside of you grow stronger.

Why did he have to be so damn sweet?

"Well, uh-" you hesitate "it's nothing, I was just being silly Sung" you nod your head, as if to convince yourself but Jisung pulls you back before you can even attempt to walk away

"If it made you upset its not silly okay, now tell me, what's got my girl like this hmm?"

"Next time you're on stage," you sigh, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. "Roll your sleeves down." Your eyes meet the floor at the request, Jisung staring down at his arms

"That's it?" he holds back a laugh, though his lips can't help but curve upwards, and his eyes fill with adoration at the sight of you so shy.

"Well I don't exactly want everyone staring at my boyfriend and his pretty arms, you're already perfect as it is" you protest, tone completely sincere "you don't need to be perfect for anyone but me" you huff, crossing your arms as you decide you've said enough.

Apparently not.

"You should've heard the girls backstage checking you out every time your muscles flexed." Your eyes roll, and Jisung can't help but find it cute, the disgusted scrunch of your nose.

He extends his forearm out to you, smiling.

"These arms are all for you, okay? so you can roll my sleeves down just as far as you'd like."

"Don't have to ask me twice," you mutter under your breath, just loud enough that he hears, tugging at the material that rested mid way up his arm.

"Yeah?" he chuckles again, "well, next time, tell the girls backstage too, " he smiles. "I'm all yours"

You hum, you could do one better, "let's show them instead."

You practically eating his lips off in the music bank hallway was not part of Jisung's agenda tonight, but he can't help the feeling of content that washes over him as you roughly move your lips over his, fingers interlaced with his, putting on an absolute show for everyone who'd walk past. With his sleeves rolled all the way down, of course.

Couldn't put too much of a show on now, could you?

God Jisung loves when you get all jealous over him

tags: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip @blondemrk @17ericas

#jsbluu recs

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jsbluu · 11 days ago

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left on seen | chapter 35: hallway couple

➨ chapter 34: y/nsung official date | left on seen masterlist | next

➨ oh my gyatt this chapter short as hell but anyway 35 OMG.. what do we think is gonna happen next guys

TAGLIST: @nebularsung @bococostree @sunghoonsgfreal @dinonuguaegi @ddolbyong @4chensungs @vixensss @jirsungs @luffysprincess @nosungluv @akunoeyebrows @sinsgaybutthatsokay @joyzluvr @n0hyuck @mrsbyun-baek @queenrachelpink @botchedbrat @livingdoll-hara @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @17ericas @cookydream @bitchzitschimi @luciavrseblog-com @minhosprettywife @hyukkstar @kyanmeai @shadysnoopyy

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jsbluu · 11 days ago

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clingy whiny needyyy obsessed shy jisung (basically the typical jisungie we all know and love) with his first time with girlfriend y/n getting flustered and shy, FINGERING with his massive hands please, and then ending up pounding her to heaven

"a-am I doing i-it right?' stammers Jisung as your head falls back with a moan. He wasn't just doing it right, he was doing it so good! "f-fuck ….yeah…so g-good" awhine fell from your lips as his fingers went deeper and deeper could practically feel each vein of his hands as he curled them deep inside your warm tight walls. Jisung's gaze never left yours as he added another finger, stretching you even further. "i-is… that too much?" he shyly whispers pressing a kiss against your clit before raising his head. A gasp left your mouth. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, the slickness of her arousal coating their joined fingers. He knew you were close, breath hitching with every thrust, your pussy tightening around his digits. "J…oh f-fuck..ji" you mewled, you could see he had a bashful smile on his face with how a rosetinted hue covered his cheeks. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, his tongue mimicking the motion of his hand. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had your toes curling. "does…please say it feels good" he practically whines against your lips, honey dripping from his voice. Your hand tightened on his wrist, hips bucking as you neared the edge. You moaned into his mouth, his teeth grazing his lower lip as you begged for release. He knew you were there, and he could feel how you trembled against him. With one final, forceful thrust, you felt the spasm of cum drip out your cunt, body convulsing with the force of your climax. "oh ….my god …" you let out a breathless sigh as you turned to look at Jisung shakingly. The boy had a bewildered look in his eyes as he took in your bare form, shaking legs and teary eyes. "youre…" "I'm..?" "so pretty….." his words left you flustered as he smiled at you.

#jsbluu recs #oh i’m a whore for first time with ji

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jsbluu · 11 days ago

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i feel so proud i want to cry 😭😭😭😭😭 oh nct i love you so much 😕🙁☹️😣😩🥺😭😭😭💔

t7s soloists 🤩

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jsbluu · 12 days ago

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ANOTHER CHANCE ──── S. JOHNNY

⟢　you always knew you would run into johnny at your high schools’s reunion. what you didn’t expect is to fall right back into the way things used to be. even more surprising, johnny asking to try again. ⟣

PAIRING ⦂ johnny suh x fem!reader WORD COUNT ⦂ 3.2k CONTENTS ⦂ high school sweetheart!johnny , dad!johnny , fluffy , bittersweet , missed chances , mainly dialogue , happy ending.

the reunion was louder than you expected. music thumping through the speakers, laughter filling the gaps between conversations. you knew coming here meant opening a time capsule, but you didn’t expect your heart to stumble the second you saw him.

johnny suh.

your high school sweetheart. the boy who once held your heart in his calloused hands, who whispered forever against your lips during late-night drives. the one you let go.

he looks good. too good. taller, broader, still wearing that easy, lopsided smile. but there’s something softer in his eyes now, a weight of time and experience.

then you see her.

a little girl, maybe five or six, clinging to his hand. she’s dressed in a pale yellow dress with frilly sleeves, her dark hair tucked into two neat braids. when she looks up at him with wide eyes, full of curiosity and trust, your stomach turns.

she has his eyes.

your breath catches. it’s not like you ever expected johnny to stay frozen in time, but this? this is something you hadn’t prepared for. before you can decide whether to turn away or walk over, he sees you.

his expression shifts, surprise flickering across his face before something else settles in. hesitation, nostalgia, maybe even something softer. he says something to the person he was talking to, then, before you know it, he’s making his way toward you.

“hey,” he says, voice warm, familiar.

“hey, johnny.”

a beat passes. his daughter tugs at his hand, shifting shyly behind him, and he glances down at her before crouching beside her.

“this is sohee,” he introduces, his voice gentler now. “sohee, this is an old friend of mine.”

sohee blinks up at you, her small hands gripping the fabric of her dad’s jacket. for a second, she doesn’t say anything. then, carefully, “hi.”

you crouch slightly to meet her at eye level, offering a small smile. “hi, sohee. i really like your dress, it’s very pretty.”

she lights up at the compliment, glancing down at the fabric like she’d forgotten what she was wearing. “thank you,” she says, her voice a little brighter this time. “daddy let me pick it out.”

you steal a glance at johnny, who only shakes his head with a helpless smile.

“you have good taste,” you tell her, and she giggles before getting distracted by something across the room.

johnny stands again, exhaling like he has a million things to say but doesn’t know where to start.

“she’s beautiful,” you offer gently.

“yeah,” he murmurs, watching her fondly. then, quieter, “she’s the best thing that came out of my marriage.”

your heart clenches.

“i heard.”

he nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “divorced two years ago.”

you don’t know what to say. the air between you feels different now, weighted by time and distance. you should tell him you’re happy he’s here, that life looks good on him, but all you can do is watch the way his shoulders shift like he’s bracing for something.

“do you want to catch up?” his voice is careful, like he’s giving you an out. “just for a bit?”

you exhale a soft laugh, tilting your head. “yeah. i’d like that.”

his lips twitch, like he wants to smile but doesn’t want to get ahead of himself.

and just like that, time folds, bringing you back to him.

it was quieter now. the music still hums in the background, but most people have trickled away into smaller groups, laughter fading into softer conversations.

you and johnny find yourselves outside, sitting on the hood of his car like you used to when you were young. the air is cooler now, the night stretching wide above you, and for a moment, neither of you speak.

“so,” he finally says, turning his head to look at you. “this is weird, right?”

you huff a laugh. “a little.”

“seeing you again… i didn’t expect it to hit me like this.”

you glance over, meeting his eyes. they’re the same, warm and deep, but there’s something new behind them; experience, loss, love in a different form. you wonder if he sees something different in you, too.

“me neither,” you admit, your voice quieter now.

he leans back on his hands, exhaling slowly. “sohee really liked you.”

you smile at the mention of his daughter. “she’s adorable. she’s got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?”

johnny laughs under his breath. “you have no idea.”

there’s something tender in the way he talks about her, and it makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand. he’s a dad now. he’s built a life, one that no longer revolves around running around past midnight and whispered promises.

but sitting here like this, the past doesn’t feel so far away.

“i always wondered what it’d be like,” he murmurs suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“seeing you again.” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “i don’t know what i expected, but… i think i was scared it wouldn’t feel the same.”

your breath catches. “and does it?”

johnny studies you for a long moment, his gaze dipping to your lips, then back to your eyes. he doesn’t answer right away, but you can feel it in the air between you.

finally, he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “yeah,” he says. “it does.”

you don’t know what that means. maybe he doesn’t either. but for tonight, you let the silence settle around you, warm and familiar, like time never stole you away from each other at all.

sohee was a few feet away, standing on the curb and balancing on the edge like it’s a tightrope, her little arms stretched out for balance.

“careful, sohee,” johnny calls, though his voice is light, more amused than worried.

“i got it, daddy!” she giggles, hopping onto the pavement with a dramatic flourish before running back toward you both. she stops right in front of you, tilting her head. “so, you were daddy’s friend?”

the question makes johnny shift beside you, but you only smile. “yeah. a long time ago.”

she blinks up at you, then turns to her dad. “but you said you don’t see your old friends.”

johnny clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “well, this is a special case.”

sohee narrows her eyes like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “hmm,” she hums, then looks back at you. “i think daddy likes you.”

johnny nearly chokes. “sohee—”

you bite back a laugh, leaning down slightly. “oh yeah? what makes you think that?”

she grins mischievously. “because he’s looking at you like he looks at ice cream.”

you do laugh this time, covering your mouth. johnny groans, dragging a hand down his face. “you’ve gotta stop exposing me like this, kid.”

sohee just giggles, clearly pleased with herself. then she yawns, rubbing at her eyes before tugging at her dad’s sleeve. “i’m sleepy.”

johnny sighs, giving her a fond look before lifting her into his arms with practiced ease. she immediately curls into him, tiny hands gripping his jacket.

he looks at you, hesitant. “i should probably get her home.”

you nod, something warm settling in your chest at the sight of him holding her so gently.

“yeah,” you say softly. “it was really nice seeing you again, johnny.”

he doesn’t respond right away, just watches you for a beat, like he’s memorizing your face. then he smiles, a little softer this time.

“you too.”

and as you hop of his car and allow him to walk around it, sohee peeks over his shoulder and waves sleepily. you wave back.

you start to walk away, back inside maybe when you here johnny speak again.

“wait.”

you turn. he shifts so he’s holding sohee more securely, but his gaze is fixed on you, something unreadable behind it.

“do you wanna get frozen yogurt sometime?” he asks, almost hesitant. “like we used to?”

you blink, caught off guard. “frozen yogurt?”

“yeah,” he says, lips twitching like he’s trying to play it off as casual. “i mean, obviously sohee would come too, but… i think she’d like it. i think you’d like it.”

you hesitate. there’s a part of you that wants to say no. to leave things as they are, neatly tied up in the past. but there’s a bigger part of you that still remembers the way frozen yogurt tasted at 11 p.m., sitting across from him in a booth, laughing over nothing and everything.

you nod. “okay.”

—

the next night, you find yourself at the same shop you used to go to as teens. the frozen yogurt shop is quieter than you remember, the neon glow of the sign casting soft light over the street. it used to be a special spot for the two of you.

tonight, it’s just the two of you. johnny had dropped sohee off at home first—“she would’ve fallen asleep in the cup,” he’d joked. now, he sits across from you, stirring his yogurt with his spoon, watching you with that same unreadable expression.

“i never thought we’d be here again,” he admits suddenly.

you glance up.

he exhales, tapping his spoon against the edge of the cup. “i imagined it, but…i never thought it’d actually happen. if we’d ever run into each other, if we’d still get along. if—” he pauses, then shakes his head, lips pressing into a wry smile. “just… a lot of ifs.”

your chest tightens. you know what he means.

“i thought about it too,” you confess. “but i always figured it was better not to dwell on it.”

johnny huffs a soft laugh. “yeah. me too.”

the silence between you is thick with all the things left unsaid, the missed chances, the roads you both chose that led you away from each other. but there’s something warm underneath it, too. something familiar.

“i’m glad we’re here, though,” you say after a moment, offering him a small smile. “even if it took us a while.”

johnny looks at you for a long moment, his gaze softer now.

“me too.”

and as you sit there, frozen yogurt melting between you, it doesn’t feel like a second chance. not yet. but maybe, it’s the start of something new.

—

“so… divorced, huh?”

johnny snorts, leaning back against the booth. “yeah.”

“was it bad?”

he shrugs. “it wasn’t good. but we both knew it wasn’t working. i think we held on longer than we should have because of sohee.”

you nod, stirring your spoon through your yogurt. “she’s lucky to have you.”

johnny smiles at that, but there’s something wistful in his eyes. “thanks. i try. even when i have no clue what i’m doing.”

you chuckle. “that’s parenting, right?”

he huffs a laugh. “yeah. pretty much.” then, after a beat, he asks, “what about you?”

you glance up. “what about me?”

“you never got married?”

you shake your head. “no. came close, once, but… it didn’t work out.”

johnny watches you carefully. “why not?”

you exhale, resting your spoon against the cup. “i think… i think a part of me was always looking for something that felt like this.” you motion between the two of you, then laugh softly. “not us, exactly. just… the way it used to be.”

he doesn’t say anything right away, just looks at you with something unreadable in his expression.

“it wasn’t always easy,” he says after a moment.

you smile faintly. “no. but it was real.”

johnny swallows, looking down at his yogurt. “yeah. it was.”

for a while, neither of you speak. the shop is quiet, save for the soft hum of music overhead and the occasional laughter from a group near the counter.

then, johnny shifts, leaning forward, arms resting against the table. “you ever think about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t…” he trails off, searching for the right word.

“fallen apart?” you supply.

he chuckles, though there’s no real humor in it. “yeah.”

you sigh, tracing the rim of your cup with your finger. “sometimes. but it doesn’t change anything.”

“no,” he agrees. “but it’s nice to wonder.”

you look at him then, really look at him, and for a moment, it feels like being seventeen again. like you’re sitting across from the boy who once knew every piece of you. who kissed you like you were his whole world. who touched you like you were a piece of art in a museum. who looked at you like you hung the stars in his sky.

but you’re not seventeen. and he’s not just johnny from high school. he’s a father now, a man who’s lived a whole life without you in it.

and yet, somehow, you’re here.

“yeah,” you murmur, smiling just a little. “it is.”

johnny watches you for a beat longer, then leans back, exhaling like he’s letting go of something.

“you wanna get out of here?” he asks. “go for a drive?”

you raise an eyebrow. “like old times?”

he grins. “why not?”

and maybe it’s reckless. maybe it’s a bad idea. but when you nod and grab your coat, following him out into the cool night air, it feels like the only choice you were ever meant to make.

you and johnny are back in the car, the hum of the engine mixing with the soft sound of the radio playing in the background. the night air is cool through the open windows, but the familiar hum of his car feels comforting, like nothing ever really changed. he’s driving aimlessly, the road stretching out before you, but neither of you seems in any hurry to get anywhere.

“you know,” johnny says suddenly, breaking the silence, “we never really had closure, did we?”

you glance at him, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows over his face. his expression is thoughtful, almost distant, as though he’s still figuring out the words.

“we had the end, didn’t we?” you reply softly, leaning back against the headrest.

johnny sighs, his grip on the steering wheel tightening for a moment before he relaxes. “yeah. but not the kind of closure i wanted.” he pauses, glancing at you. “not the kind that would let me move on.”

you’re silent for a few moments, letting the words settle between you. there’s no easy way to answer that. the truth is, you’ve never really moved on either. not completely. not when every time you thought you had, something about him or the way things were came rushing back.

“johnny, i—” you start, but the words don’t come out right. you don’t know how to say it without it all sounding like some kind of apology, like it’s something you both need to fix.

he interrupts you gently. “i’m not asking you to fix anything. i just… i miss us. i’ve missed us.”

your chest tightens at that, the sincerity in his voice reaching deep into you. the old longing resurfaces. something that’s been quietly there under everything all these years, and you’ve tried so hard not to admit it.

the car slows, and johnny pulls off onto a quiet road that you don’t quite recognize. he parks on the side, the headlights casting long shadows against the empty street.

johnny kills the engine, and suddenly, the quiet between you is thick with something unspoken. it’s almost too much, too fragile, like if either of you spoke, the moment would shatter.

“sohee,” johnny says after a beat, his voice softer. “i think it would be good for her. you and her.”

you turn your head to look at him, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

he hesitates for a moment before speaking again, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a way that suggests how much he means it. “i know you’re not the same person you were when we were younger. but seeing you again… i think it would be good for sohee, you know? you’re perfect with kids. and i’ve seen how you are with her, how gentle and patient you are. it would be good for her to have someone like you in her life.”

his words hang in the air, and you feel a rush of warmth flood your chest. you hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized how much he still saw in you.

“but more than that,” johnny adds, his gaze softer now, “i just… i want to try again. not just for her, but for us. i think we could make it work, for her and for us. i want to give it a real chance. i think we both deserve that.”

you stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. you’ve been through so much, both of you, and yet here he is, asking you to try again. the weight of it is almost too much, but there’s a sweetness in his eyes, a sincerity that makes your heart ache in all the right ways.

“you know i’ve missed you, right?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

johnny nods, his thumb tracing the edge of the steering wheel. “i think i’ve missed you more than i realized. and i think sohee would be lucky to have someone like you around.” he glances over at you, his voice turning quieter, more intimate. “i don’t want to go back to how things were. but i want to go forward. with you.”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the truth of his words settle over you. it’s so easy to say no, to protect yourself from the hurt, from the uncertainty. but it’s also so easy to say yes, to step forward into something that feels both familiar and new.

“i want to try too,” you say, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “i really do.”

johnny smiles, his relief visible in the way his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his face. he leans over the console, his eyes searching yours, and then gently cups your face with both hands, his touch warm and tender.

you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the space between you, the closeness of him now almost overwhelming. the car feels too small, too intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away. his eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, as though asking for permission, silently waiting for you to decide.

“i—” he starts softly, his voice low, “can i kiss you?”

your heart races, and the question feels like a formality, something he already knows the answer to, but you nod anyway. it feels like you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, and now it’s finally here, so much sweeter than you imagined.

johnny leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull back if you want to. but you don’t. you don’t want to. you meet him halfway, your lips brushing against his gently at first, like a question neither of you has answered until now. and when it deepens, when you both let go of the hesitation that’s kept you apart all this time, it feels like coming home.

the kiss is soft but filled with everything unspoken between you, a promise of what could be. it’s sweet, it’s messy, and it’s everything you’ve both been holding back for far too long. when he pulls back just enough to look at you again, there’s a look in his eyes that makes your heart flutter.

“thank you,” johnny whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “for giving us a chance.”

you smile at him, your forehead resting against his, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything’s going to be okay.

#jsbluu recs #I LOVE HIM

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