#Nct X reader

[lqfiles]

random texts with bf!mark.

notes — trying to break my almost 2 month no post streak with this so i can slowly ease back into this posting lifestyle #attemptedcomebackseason

[viasdreams]

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

fwb!jeno but he lowkey wants to be more than friends !!

a/n: happy jeno day !! ૮ .◜◡◝ ა

[cbeargyu]

marry me, mr. jeong

summary: while everyone around you is getting married, you're left behind—no ring, no lover, just silence waiting at home. but one night, your boss, mr. jeong, makes an unexpected proposal: "marry me." and suddenly, your quiet world begins to burn.

pairing: boss!jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: romance, slow burn, fluff, emotional smut, domestic married life, eventual pregnancy, emotional growth, healing.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), strong language, emotional vulnerability, pregnancy mention (later), minor angst, lots of kissing, crying, soft husband jaehyun, tooth-rotting fluff, crying-in-the-club type of love.

wc: 19,7K

notes: i’m obsessed with jaehyun as a boss, boyfriend, hubby, and daddy lmao. man’s got range 😮‍💨💍🖤 i swear i try to keep it short but my brain goes rogue every time 😭 like girl be fr, when’s the day i finally drop a short fic??? bye lmao 💀

you’re twenty-nine, and the number feels heavier than you thought it would. not because it’s old—not really—but because thirty is close. and thirty means expectations. by now, you were supposed to have it all figured out. at least, that’s what they say. your friends certainly make it seem that way with their photo-perfect marriages, toddlers learning to walk, houses in peaceful neighborhoods. meanwhile, you still live in a quiet apartment with plants you often forget to water and a fridge that holds more takeout containers than groceries.

you work at an architecture firm—clean lines, big ideas, and even bigger egos. the kind of place where late nights are common and recognition is rare. you’ve built a name for yourself, though. you lead your team well, your ideas consistently get approved, and your work ethic has never been in question. the other women whisper that you’re just trying to impress the boss, that your dedication is nothing but a strategic flirtation. they don't know that your passion isn’t about pleasing anyone but yourself. well, mostly. maybe part of you does want to be seen. to be acknowledged by him.

jeong jaehyun.

your department lead. two years younger than you, but somehow always carrying himself like he’s lived three lives already. he doesn’t talk much. doesn’t engage in the small talk that fills the office kitchen or the empty flattery some of your coworkers throw his way. he’s serious, focused, almost too calm. the kind of man who’s unreadable, and yet somehow always watching. you’re not close, not really, but there’s a quiet understanding between you. he trusts you. you can feel it in the way he gives you space to lead, the way he nods subtly in meetings when you speak, the way his eyes linger sometimes—not in a way that feels invasive, but like he’s... thinking.

you’ve never seen him flirt with anyone. never seen him talk about his personal life. no ring, no photos on his desk, not even vague mentions of a girlfriend or family. and while no one dares to say anything to his face, everyone wonders. he's a man, though—no one criticizes him for being single. no one asks him what he's waiting for.

you, on the other hand, can barely go a week without someone making a comment. still not married? you’re so pretty, what a shame. your mother means well, but every call ends with a variation of you’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.you smile through it. you tell them you're happy. you tell yourself that, too. but deep down, there's a quiet ache. because you’ve always wanted a family. always dreamed of being a mother, of coming home to someone who knows you—not just your schedule or your favorite takeout order, but the way you think, the way you feel things deeply and try to hide it. but love hasn’t knocked in years. not since your last relationship ended at twenty-two, before the world hardened your heart. since then, you’ve been too busy, too careful, too tired.

tonight, you're staying late again. the office is nearly empty, save for a few flickering lights and the buzz of a vending machine down the hall. you're finessing the last pieces of a major project, making sure every detail is just right. you're in the zone when you hear soft footsteps approaching, and then his voice—low, familiar, closer than expected.

“you’re still here, byun?”

you glance up to find jaehyun standing by your desk, hands in his pockets, that usual unreadable expression on his face. there’s no judgment in his voice, just quiet curiosity.

you offer a tired smile, leaning back in your chair. “oh, mr. jeong, i just wanted to polish a few things before the presentation. i figured if i leave anything messy, the senior managers will rip it apart. and then you’ll take the heat for it.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that almost looks like a smile. “you care that much about how i look to the execs?”

you shrug, turning back to your screen. “you’re my boss. if you look bad, i look bad.”

he lets out a soft exhale, a sound that's dangerously close to a chuckle. then he leans against your desk, his body relaxed but his eyes still sharp as ever. “you’re too committed.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

he shakes his head. “not bad. just... rare.”

a brief silence settles between you, not awkward, but weighted. it feels like he’s about to say something else, and when he does, it’s not what you expect.

“doesn’t your family mind that you stay this late?” his gaze holds yours. “your husband? kids?”

you blink, the question catching you off guard. your smile falters just slightly, and you look down at your hands before answering.

“no husband. no kids. no one waiting at home.” you try to sound casual, even throw in a little laugh. “i guess i’m just married to the job.”

he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t look away. “i didn’t know.”

you nod, suddenly very aware of the silence around you. “most people assume. but... yeah. i live alone.”

another pause. then, gently, you ask, “what about you, mr. jeong? i mean, you’re always here late too. no one waiting on you?”

he looks away for the first time, his jaw tightening slightly before he answers. “no one yet.”

and there it is again—that silence between you. but this time, it’s different. it hums with something unspoken. curiosity. surprise. maybe even recognition.

you return your gaze to the screen, not really seeing it. he’s still standing there, close enough to feel but not close enough to touch. something in the air shifts, and for the first time in a long time, your chest feels... not heavy, but full.

the next morning, you arrived a few minutes early—just like always. being punctual wasn’t about impressing anyone; it was about control, about proving—at least to yourself—that you had your life together. it made you feel reliable. consistent. in a workplace full of half-assed excuses and people who couldn’t meet a deadline to save their lives, your discipline was something you wore like armor. something no one could take from you.

your outfit was soft, delicate even—rose-pink skirt brushing just above your knees, a crisp white button-up tucked in neatly, the blazer matching your skirt in a subtle pastel tone. your heels clicked softly against the tile floor as you made your way to your desk, and as you passed the reflection on one of the glass panels, you couldn’t help but think: i look good today.

you did. your hair was in place, makeup light but elegant, lips tinted a faint nude-pink. polished. pretty. professional. but beneath all that... you also looked a little alone. not that anyone would say it to your face—but you could see it sometimes, in the glances people gave you. admiration, maybe. pity, sometimes. curiosity always.

you sat down, smoothing your skirt and adjusting your chair, reaching for the little yellow post-it you’d stuck to the side of your monitor the day before. your handwriting was neat, methodical. a short list of pending tasks, each one already being mentally checked off as you booted up your computer. you didn’t waste time—your fingers flew across the keyboard, and within minutes the familiar sounds of productivity filled your small corner of the office: the rhythmic clack of keys, the soft hum and spit of the printer warming up to spit out proposals and reports.

you didn’t hear him come in.

you were too deep in the flow, too focused on aligning the final report with the visual standards the company demanded. your eyes scanned the document line by line, searching for typos, ensuring everything was clean, sharp, presentable. the sound of footsteps behind you didn’t register until you felt it—that subtle, electric awareness that comes when someone is watching.

“good morning, byun. please leave the project report on my desk once it’s ready.”

he didn’t look at you. just passed by, smooth and quick, his voice calm and firm, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand, the familiar scent of roast beans and expensive cologne trailing behind him like a silent presence. his stride didn’t falter, his gaze fixed ahead, like he’d already moved on to the next ten things in his mind. you barely had time to nod, mouth parted to respond, but he was already disappearing behind his office door.

you blinked.

right. the report.

you gathered the last printed pages, slid them into the presentation folder, double-checked the order, smoothed the cover with your palm before rising from your seat. your heels clicked softly against the floor as you made your way down the short corridor, your fingers lightly tapping the edge of the folder, nerves tightening with each step even if there was nothing to be nervous about. it was just work. just jaehyun. just another report.

you knocked once and entered when he answered. he was seated behind his desk, sleeves already rolled up to his elbows, the dark veins of his forearms visible as he typed something on his laptop. he glanced up, briefly, then reached for the report when you held it out.

“thank you,” he said, flipping it open with precision, already scanning the contents. “at two p.m. we have the meeting with upper management. you’ll be joining me at the table. along with choi and hwang.”

you nodded. “understood.”

“good. go over the numbers one more time before then. they’re likely to ask.”

“yes, mr. jeong.”

and that was it. no warm smile. no thank you. just professional, cold efficiency. you turned and left, closing the door gently behind you before returning to your desk, the weight of the upcoming meeting settling on your shoulders like a familiar cloak. you’d been through this before. plenty of times. but it never got easier. not when the room was full of men in suits who barely hid their condescension, who chewed through ideas like tasteless gum until someone—usually jaehyun—said something smart enough to catch their interest.

you spent the next few hours fine-tuning the financial section, making sure your data was clean, graphs properly labeled, estimates realistic but still ambitious. it was a delicate game—making things sound innovative without actually suggesting anything too risky. they didn’t want bold. they wanted impressive illusions of boldness packaged in safe wrapping.

the meeting room was as bland as ever. too much glass, too much beige. you sat at the long table beside jaehyun, your laptop open, presentation ready. the managers arrived first, already complaining about another team’s failed prototype. the director entered last, stone-faced as always, his tie perfect, his opinion impossible to read.

as expected, the meeting dragged. they picked apart the proposal, paragraph by paragraph, expressionless until one of them grimaced like the very concept of originality offended them. you watched them, these men who nodded at each other but rarely smiled, who offered feedback that wasn’t feedback, just empty phrases like “it needs more punch” or “is this trend even scalable?”

then jaehyun spoke.

his voice was calm, slow, measured. and yet he made every single line sound convincing. powerful. like there was no other way forward but the one he was laying out. the room shifted around him. the tension eased. eyes narrowed—not in skepticism now, but interest. he wasn’t just presenting; he was selling a vision, and you felt yourself straightening with pride even if the credit wasn’t yours.

until he said your name.

“y/n,” he said, still facing the director. “if you could present the budget projections.”

you froze for a half second. not out of fear—just... surprise. you hadn’t expected him to call on you so soon.

you stood, smoothed your skirt unconsciously, and took a breath before switching slides. your voice was steady, even if your palms were clammy.

“these are the projections for the next two quarters,” you began, pointing at the chart. “we’ve estimated a moderate increase in cost during the development phase, with a break-even point projected for the beginning of q3. depending on the approved budget, we’re looking at a return on investment of approximately—”

you kept going, explaining the graphs, walking them through the numbers with careful clarity. no embellishments, no guesswork. facts. you swallowed once, clearing your throat before the final slide, then ended with a nod.

when you sat back down, jaehyun glanced at you. just a moment. a flicker of something almost soft in his expression.

like you’d done well. like you couldn’t possibly disappoint him.

the rest of the meeting blurred. the managers began tossing in extra suggestions—small changes, tweaks they hoped would impress the director. the man nodded, offered vague praise, and you remained at your seat, listening to it all with a practiced, patient expression.

when the meeting finally ended, you stood beside jaehyun again. he didn’t say much—he never did—but as he packed his laptop, he looked at you.

“good work today,” he said. “you’re an essential part of the team. if you keep this up, i’ll make sure your name’s considered for the upcoming promotions.”

you stared at him, momentarily stunned. the words hit harder than you expected. you’d worked for five years, given everything to this company, and this—this was the first time someone above you had said something that felt... real.

“thank you,” you said softly, trying not to let your smile get too big. “really.”

he nodded. “you earned it.”

later, when the director extended the dinner invitation, you didn’t hesitate. it wasn’t optional. the team needed to show up, needed to mingle, to pretend everything was a celebration and not an endless cycle of office politics masked with clinking glasses.

the bar was upscale but casual enough to loosen people’s ties. smoke from grilled meats hung faintly in the air, the tang of sweet sauces and roasted garlic filling the space. you sat between your supervisor and jaehyun, trying not to feel too stiff in your work clothes. everyone was drinking, toasting, laughing louder than they had all day.

the supervisor leaned forward, voice slightly slurred. “you know,” he said to the director, “the whole prototype? the mockup? the execution timeline? all her. y/n practically carried the whole thing.”

the director turned to you, surprised. “really? how long have you been here?”

“five years,” you replied, sipping from your glass.

he raised a brow. “how is it possible i haven’t noticed you until now?”

jaehyun, still beside you, said nothing—but you felt the subtle tension in his posture.

“you’ve got a good employee,” the director told him. “it’s your job to shape her. teach her. sounds like she’s already on the right path. with the right guidance... she’ll move up in no time.”

he raised his glass. “to y/n.”

“to y/n,” echoed around the table.

you lifted your glass, cheeks warm—not just from the alcohol but from the unfamiliar sensation of being seen. you smiled, surrounded by coworkers and approval and good food, and for a moment, just one moment, everything felt like it was finally going somewhere.

you were finally going somewhere.

the dinner had blurred into noise.

conversations overlapping, laughter rising and falling like tides. glasses clinked, meat sizzled on the grill, the warm lighting softening everyone's expressions into something hazy and unguarded. you sat at the long table, just a bit to the side, the smoky scent of barbecued meat in your hair and the echo of compliments still lingering in your chest. across from you, your supervisor had long since slipped into a drunken retelling of his glory days. to your left, jaehyun sat quietly, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. his arms were strong, veins defined even in the low light, and on his left wrist, a sleek, expensive watch glinted every time he reached for his glass. he hadn’t touched his soju in a while, though. he just held the rim between his fingers and occasionally let his gaze wander across the room.

when your eyes met, it was casual, almost accidental. but you didn’t look away.

“you’re not drinking,” you said, quietly enough that only he could hear.

he offered the ghost of a smirk, the kind that barely pulled at one corner of his mouth. “someone has to remember what was actually said tonight.”

you laughed, a soft breathy sound, grateful for his clarity amidst the chaos.

a silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. rather, it felt like a small space carved out just for the two of you—unbothered, untouched, a bubble where you didn’t have to keep smiling or pretending. you let out a quiet sigh, swirling your untouched drink in your hand.

“do you ever feel like you're running out of time?” you asked, voice low, not even sure why you were asking him of all people.

jaehyun looked at you, brows drawn slightly, intrigued but still calm. “time for what?”

you hesitated, fingers tightening around your glass. the alcohol was warm in your chest, but not enough to numb this confession.

“for everything,” you admitted. “i mean, professionally… things are going great. i can’t complain. i’ve worked hard, and it’s starting to pay off. but…” you looked down, lips pressing together. “sometimes i feel like i’m trapped inside a giant hourglass, watching the sand fall, grain by grain. i’ll be thirty in a few months. and i know that shouldn't mean anything, but in a world where people expect you to have everything figured out by now—marriage, kids, some picture-perfect life—i feel like i’m falling behind. like my dreams are moving farther and farther away.”

you took a breath, not daring to look at him.

“it’s just… sad,” you continued. “when you achieve something big and there’s no one waiting at home to celebrate it with you. no partner, no family. no one to say, ‘i’m proud of you.’”

jaehyun was quiet for a moment. then his voice came, soft and even.

“i can celebrate with you.”

you looked up, surprised, blinking at him. “thank you, but… that’s not what i meant. it’s not the same.”

he held your gaze. then, calmly, like he was offering a solution to a logistics problem, he said it.

“then marry me.”

your brain stalled.

you didn’t understand at first. maybe you misheard him. maybe he was joking, or drunk—except his voice hadn’t changed. his tone hadn’t wavered. your stomach dropped.

“…what?” you whispered.

“you want a family. you want someone to come home to. marry me.”

the words hung between you like smoke. absurd. unreal. your mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. you glanced around—everyone else was too busy laughing or slurring their next toast to notice what had just happened.

you leaned in slightly, voice tense and hushed. “mr.—jeong—what are you talking about? we don’t even know each other like that.”

“we know enough,” he said without blinking.

“we’ve never even had a real conversation outside of work until now.”

“so let’s have more,” he replied, as steady as always.

you felt like your heart was beating too loudly. “are you… are you seriously suggesting we get married?”

“i’m not suggesting it. i’m telling you i’d do it. if you said yes.”

you stared at him, at the cool detachment on his face, the quiet certainty in his voice, and felt your world tip on its axis.

he shrugged. “how long until you turn thirty?”

“…my birthday’s in november,” you muttered, the words escaping before you could even process them. “it’s april now. that’s seven months.”

jaehyun nodded slowly. “then you have seven months to decide.”

he finished his beer in one slow, final gulp. then he stood up, reaching into his wallet and placing a few bills under his empty glass. you were still frozen when he stepped beside you.

“i’ll take you home,” he said.

you tried to protest, voice stumbling over half-formed refusals. “you don’t have to—i can call a cab, really—”

he looked down at you, expression unreadable.

“that wasn’t a request. it’s your boss giving you a ride.”

and with that, he turned, waiting for you to follow. your legs felt heavy as you stood, your mind racing, still reeling from what had just happened. marry him? seven months? he was serious. he was actually serious.

you had no answers. only questions. and one man who had just offered you everything you’d spent your life pretending you didn’t need.

you didn’t sleep.

not really. you tossed and turned, arms flung across the bed one minute and buried under the covers the next. jaehyun’s words echoed in your skull like an intrusive melody, looping over and over again.

then marry me.

you have seven months to decide.

like some sort of countdown had been triggered.

you must have stared at your ceiling for hours, trying to make sense of what he meant—what it meant for you—and whether he’d been serious. but the worst part wasn’t the proposal. the worst part was how calm he’d been, how effortlessly he’d said it, and how easily he’d walked away afterward like it hadn’t upended your entire sense of self.

your alarm went off at seven, and you hit snooze five times. by the time you dragged yourself out of bed, you felt like your bones had aged a decade overnight. you put on your makeup with the heaviness of someone trying to erase exhaustion from the inside out—concealer, color corrector, foundation. you went over your under-eyes twice, then a third time. you looked like yourself, but blurry. off.

you arrived to work twenty minutes later than usual, which was already enough to earn a few raised brows. no one said anything, but they noticed. you noticed them noticing.

you sat at your desk and stared at your drawers, forgetting which one you kept the monthly reports in. your fingers shook slightly as you shuffled through folders, trying to find the stupid paperwork you'd seen a million times. a stack of them slipped from your grasp and scattered onto the floor like a metaphor. you groaned and crouched down to collect them, muttering under your breath. your brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses.

then—

“good morning.”

his voice. that casual, bored tone he always used in the office. neutral, even, no trace of anything buried beneath it. no sign that he’d ever said something as life-altering as what he’d said last night.

you startled so hard you hit your head on the underside of your desk.

“good—ouch!” you winced, clutching your scalp with one hand and your pride with the other. “good morning, mr. jeong.”

he kept walking. didn’t glance down at you. didn’t smirk. didn’t check if you were okay. he passed your desk like any other morning, like he hadn’t proposed to you over beer and smoke and shared loneliness.

a few coworkers peeked over their partitions, concerned. you gave a shaky thumbs-up and a whispered, “i’m fine,” even though you felt anything but fine.

you weren’t like this. not at work. not ever. your name was synonymous with precision. discipline. control. and here you were, dropping papers and bumping into furniture like your brain had short-circuited.

you finally gathered the reports and brought them to his office.

he was seated at his desk, focused on his screen, the sleeves of his dress shirt still rolled to his elbows. your eyes caught briefly on the line of his forearm, the watch still there, still ticking.

“these are the reports from last month,” you said, setting the folder down.

“thanks,” he replied without looking at you.

you lingered.

“mr. jeong.”

he finally looked up.

his eyes were calm. cool. like nothing was wrong. like he hadn’t detonated a bomb and walked away from the wreckage.

you hesitated, your throat dry. “about what you said last night—”

his expression didn’t change.

“we’re at work,” he said simply. “i’m being professional.”

you blinked, almost offended. “so that’s it? you say something that insane and then just—go back to normal?”

“we’ll talk after work,” he said, returning to his screen. “if you want to.”

you stood there, gripping the folder even though it was already out of your hands, heart thudding with something sour and hot and unnamable. frustration? humiliation? confusion? all of it?

he was treating you like you were the one out of line. like you were being inappropriate for even bringing it up.

you turned around without saying anything else and walked out of his office, pulse hammering in your ears. the rest of the day dragged like wet cement. you couldn’t concentrate. you couldn’t remember what you were supposed to be doing half the time. you reread emails four times before hitting send. and every time someone walked past your desk, you wondered if it was him, if he’d say anything, if he’d look at you, if he even remembered what he said or if the memory of it belonged to you alone now.

you’d never felt so out of control.

you didn’t know what was worse—his silence or the fact that you wanted him to break it.

you tried to focus. god, you really did. you stared at spreadsheets until the numbers blurred into static. you answered emails with words you didn’t remember typing. every time the phone rang, your heart jumped, irrationally convinced it might be him—even though you were in the same building, separated by maybe thirty feet of glass, air, and unspoken tension. it felt like the longest day of your life. your temples throbbed with a slow, building ache, like your thoughts were pressing too hard against the inside of your skull.

you popped two painkillers around lunchtime, washed them down with lukewarm water from your reusable bottle, but they didn’t help. not really. because the pain wasn’t just physical—it was mental. emotional. a kind of pressure that wrapped around your ribs and squeezed.

your mind wouldn’t shut up.

you kept looping the same questions, over and over again, like your brain was stuck on a carousel with no exit.

why would he say that? why now? why you?

he already told you he'd wait. seven months. seven impossibly long, slow-burning months.

so why talk? why meet? it wasn’t for him. it didn’t serve him. he’d been clear. he had time, he had patience. this conversation—it was for you. you were the one desperate to make sense of it. to understand his motives. to justify the insanity of it all.

but how were you supposed to justify something that made no sense?

he’s twenty-seven. handsome. polished. wealthy. he could have anyone—literally anyone. girls younger than you, brighter than you, women who weren’t crawling toward their thirties with a fading list of half-achieved dreams and a fridge full of takeout leftovers. why you?

a mid-level employee in a department no one paid much attention to. someone who had to fight tooth and nail just to be noticed in board meetings. someone who had accomplishments but no one to toast with. someone who fell asleep most nights with their phone face-down and on silent because no one was texting anyway.

why you?

you didn’t have an answer.

you finished your tasks—barely—and the moment the clock hit the end of your shift, you shut your computer down with shaky fingers and grabbed your bag. your steps felt heavy, reluctant, as you made your way through the hall toward the entrance. part of you wanted to bolt, to pretend nothing had ever been said, to go home and crawl into bed and put on a show you wouldn’t really watch. to sleep off the confusion like a bad hangover.

but the doors opened before you could entertain the thought. those clean, automatic glass doors slid apart with a hiss, and there he was.

leaning casually against one of the white pillars just outside, his suit jacket draped neatly over his forearm, his other hand gripping his sleek black briefcase like it weighed nothing. he looked like something out of a commercial—well-dressed, composed, the perfect image of success. but when his eyes met yours, something flickered beneath the surface. maybe restraint. maybe tension. maybe nothing.

he walked toward you calmly, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the smooth tile.

“get in the car,” he said, voice even. “we’re going to talk. like you wanted.”

not a question. not a request.

he turned without waiting for your answer and made his way to a parked luxury sedan—shiny, deep black, windows tinted so dark you could barely see the interior. he opened the passenger door for you, as if the conversation that waited inside was just another part of his routine.

you hesitated, only for a second.

but then you followed.

because no matter how messy your thoughts were, no matter how terrified or confused or unworthy you felt, one truth cut through the noise:

you wanted to know.

you slid into the passenger seat, trying to calm the way your heart was sprinting inside your chest. the door closed beside you with a quiet thunk, sealing you into a space you weren’t sure you were ready for.

he walked around the front of the car and got in behind the wheel, smooth and unhurried.

you stared straight ahead.

ready—or not—to finally ask the questions that wouldn’t leave you alone.

the silence in the car wasn’t uncomfortable. not exactly. but it was dense—like fog inside your chest, heavy and silent and there to stay.

you stared out the window as the city drifted past, familiar buildings made foreign by the storm in your head. beside you, jaehyun drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. there was music playing—low, jazzy, old—but he didn’t speak. not until you passed a traffic light and he tilted his head, casually.

“did you get enough sleep last night?” he asked, like he was commenting on the weather.

you didn’t look at him. “not really.”

“figured,” he said, turning smoothly into another avenue. “you looked like hell.”

you gave a humorless chuckle, resting your elbow against the door and propping your chin in your hand. “thanks for the compliment, sir.”

“anytime,” he said dryly.

and that was it. that was all the small talk he offered. nothing personal. nothing intimate. just an acknowledgment that he saw you. that he’d noticed.

the drive was short, and before you could make sense of anything, you were already parking in front of a modest little korean restaurant tucked between a laundromat and a bookstore. it smelled like steam, garlic, and simmered bone broth. a place where people went for real food and no-frills comfort.

“this place has the best gomguk in the city,” jaehyun said, grabbing his briefcase from the back. “been coming here since i was a teenager.”

you hesitated at the door. “you like bone soup?”

“love it.”

you wrinkled your nose. “i can’t stand that stuff. never could. not even as a kid.”

he paused mid-step and gave you a look, slightly amused. “well,” he said, “there’s our first disagreement as a couple.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what?”

“now i know you don’t like gomguk. guess i’ll have to avoid cooking it for you.”

you said nothing.

because he wasn’t joking. not really. not entirely. and that was the part that made your mouth dry.

how could he say things like that so easily? so naturally? as if you hadn’t spent the entire day unraveling at the seams while he strutted through the office like nothing had happened?

he sat across from you at the table, unbothered, scanning the menu like it wasn’t even necessary. he already knew what he wanted. meanwhile, you still didn’t know why you were there.

you picked something else. kimchi jjigae, maybe—safe, familiar, strong enough to mask the taste of your confusion.

once the server took your orders and disappeared behind the curtain, you leaned forward, folding your hands together to stop them from trembling.

“why me?”

his eyes lifted slowly from the empty table to your face. “there’s no reason,” he said. “i just want to give you what you want.”

“do you say that to all women?”

he smirked. “if i did, i’d probably be married to half the city by now.”

you shook your head. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“don’t treat this like a mission,” you snapped, trying not to raise your voice. “i don’t need your pity. i shared something vulnerable with you, yeah. but that doesn’t mean you have to swoop in and rescue me from a miserable life of solitude by offering a ring. this isn’t some fairytale. i don’t need a man to save me.”

“i never said you did.”

you exhaled slowly. “i want to love and be loved. to build something. something real. not this... whatever this is. a contract. a deal. a deadline to escape loneliness.”

his expression didn’t shift. not a single flicker. but his voice softened.

“then let’s say this. if in seven months, you still haven’t found someone—someone who makes you feel like you can build something... try it with me.”

you stared at him. hard. trying to read every intention in the lines of his face.

“just like that?”

“just like that.”

you couldn’t look away.

and then he said it. the words that settled into the cracks of your resolve like warm rain after a drought.

“we can love. i can love you. you can love me, if you want to. if you want to date, we can date. you don’t have to feel pressured. i just think... you’re worth the risk. and i don’t think you should torture yourself every day that passes just because you haven’t ‘settled down.’ opportunities don’t always come twice. sometimes you have to grab them while they’re here. or regret it forever.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out.

you looked at him then—not as the cold, polished man who walked the halls like a ghost in tailored suits. not as your boss. not as someone who confused and overwhelmed you.

you saw him as a man.

a man who knew what he wanted. who wasn’t afraid to take action. who looked you in the eye and offered you something you weren’t even sure you deserved.

his jawline. his eyes. the little wrinkle between his brows when he got serious. the calm way he listened. the confidence. the clarity.

you saw him differently.

you weren’t ready to give him an answer. not yet.

but something inside you had shifted.

you just didn’t know what to call it.

he didn’t rush you.

he didn’t push.

he just sat there across from you in that tiny booth, his sleeves rolled up and his tie slightly loosened, waiting with the kind of quiet confidence that only made your heart beat louder. he stirred his soup gently, letting it cool, occasionally taking a sip without ever looking away from you for too long.

and then he said it—casually, as if proposing something as simple as lunch next week.

“let’s do this. i’ll pick you up after work from now on. we’ll go out. have dinner. spend time together. see what happens. let it unfold naturally.”

just like that.

your breath caught. “i… i have doubts,” you admitted, almost in a whisper. “i don’t know what to say. i don’t know what to feel. this is all so sudden, so... fast.”

he nodded, unbothered. “that’s okay.”

you blinked. “that’s okay?”

“yes. it’s not a race. but you heard what i said—opportunities don’t always knock twice. you don’t have to say yes right now. just think about it.”

but you were thinking. too much.

his voice played on repeat in your mind: we can love. i can love you. you can love me. and god, wasn’t that the exact thing you’d been terrified of never having?

your fingers trembled under the table. your palms clammy, your mouth dry. you rubbed your hands together slowly, grounding yourself in that simple motion, trying to breathe.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t ask again. just kept sipping his soup, patient as stone, like he’d already accepted whatever answer you’d give him.

you stared at your food, at the steam rising, the way the aroma filled the space between you and him like something sacred. you still couldn’t stand bone soup. but somehow, being across from him made it smell less... offensive. less like something to run from.

and you remembered.

all those nights crying in silence.

all those mornings brushing your teeth with tears stuck in your throat because you didn’t know if ever would come.

ever finding someone.

ever being enough.

ever being loved without begging for it.

maybe he wasn’t what you imagined.

maybe he was better.

you looked up at him.

“okay,” you said, softly. then stronger. “okay. i’ll try. i’ll let you pick me up. we’ll go on these dates. maybe… maybe i can love you. maybe i can let myself be loved by you.”

he paused mid-sip, eyes lifting.

your voice cracked slightly when you added, “maybe i can stay with you.”

for a beat, the world went still.

he didn’t smile wide. didn’t gloat or tease.

he just gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. his eyes warm, deep, but controlled—like someone who’d been expecting this moment and didn’t want to scare it off.

“good,” he said. “that’s all i needed.”

you swallowed hard.

and for the first time since that strange proposal, something in your chest loosened.

you weren’t sure if this was love.

but it was a beginning.

the next morning. everything is different.

you walk into the building like you own the damn place—heels sharp, suit immaculate, makeup clean and fierce, ponytail slicked high like a crown. the memory of yesterday—your stumble, your throbbing head, your wandering thoughts—now felt like a distant, irrelevant dream. that wasn’t you. this was.

a woman who knew what she wanted.

a woman who said yes.

you smiled to yourself in the elevator. not just any smile—that kind. the kind that curled at the corners, the kind that held secrets, the kind that felt like sin dressed in silk. the kind that belonged to someone with a man waiting outside a restaurant, ordering bone broth, and talking about love like it was something simple. doable. inevitable.

you were early. again. not by accident this time, but by choice.

you slid into your desk, organized, efficient, present. the hum of the office hadn’t started yet, and you took advantage of the calm, catching up on reports and scheduling the week like the good girl you were trained to be. but this time, it was different. you weren’t surviving the day. you were anticipating it.

and then—at exactly the hour—he walked in.

jung jaehyun.

same black suit. same silver watch. same air of cool detachment.

but today, when he passed by your desk and muttered his usual, “good morning,” you didn’t just nod like before.

you stood up—too fast.

too happy.

“good morning, mr. jeong!” you sang, voice lilting and almost musical, like you’d just won the lottery.

it was instinctual. not calculated. just... you.

the entire floor stopped.

heads turned.

some eyebrows shot up. a few eyes narrowed.

jaehyun himself halted in his tracks, looking back at you slowly, his brows drawn together in the tiniest frown. he cleared his throat.

“everyone, back to work,” he said, voice firm. and then, after one last look—eyes narrowed at you in something between confusion and amusement—he turned and walked away.

you bit your lip so hard it almost hurt, barely suppressing the giggle building in your throat.

the memory of last night echoed in your mind, maybe i can love you, maybe i can stay with you—and now here you were, trying not to beam like a teenager with a crush. you watched his back disappear into his office, and your lips curled up, despite yourself.

you could still feel his eyes on you. even if he wasn’t looking.

after work, you waited by the entrance as the glass doors slid open.

he was already there—like he promised. leaning casually against his car, black coat folded over one arm, briefcase in hand, gaze scanning the horizon like the perfect ceo out of a drama. but as soon as his eyes met yours, they softened—barely, subtly—but you noticed.

“get in,” he said, opening the passenger door for you.

you slipped in without protest, heart beating faster than it had any right to.

once the car pulled away from the curb, the silence settled—but it didn’t last long.

“you can’t do that,” he said, not harshly, just... firm.

“do what?” you asked, knowing damn well.

“greet me like that. like that.” he glanced at you sideways. “at work.”

you shrugged. “what? we’re dating now. aren’t we?”

“we’re seeing where this goes,” he corrected. “but we still have to be professional. people talk. your position can be affected. and mine—”

you cut in, not harshly but with a certain fire. “i’m not going to apologize for being happy.”

“i’m not asking you to apologize.”

“then don’t ask me to pretend. i’ll dial it down, sure. but i’m not going to act like you don’t mean something to me when we’re under the same roof eight hours a day.”

he stayed quiet for a beat, tapping the wheel with one hand, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile.

“is this how you are with all your boyfriends?”

you grinned. “i’m worse.”

he laughed. actually laughed. that deep, velvet sound you hadn’t heard much outside of formalities.

“well, i’ll brace myself,” he said. “i might enjoy it.”

you turned to the window, hiding your smile. this was really happening.

the drive back was quiet at first—a comfortable silence that didn’t demand immediate conversation. the kind of quiet that says: you don’t need to perform, just exist here with me.

the radio was on. a soft playlist of english ballads played in the background—songs about longing, beginnings, maybe even second chances. you doubted jaehyun picked them himself. it was probably just the algorithm. still, the timing felt so precise… so intentional, that you wondered if the universe was helping him out tonight.

you played with your fingers over your thighs, crossing and uncrossing your legs slowly, watching the night pass outside the window. city lights in the distance. trees swaying softly in the wind. you tried to guess where he was taking you next, but the truth was… you didn’t really care.

not knowing was part of the charm.

“where are we going?” you finally asked, unable to resist the curiosity.

he smiled without turning to look at you, eyes steady on the road ahead.

“it’s a secret,” he said. “you’ll have to wait and see.”

you squinted at him with mock suspicion, amused—and yet, inside, your heart started to thump a little faster with every mile.

there was something strangely beautiful about not being in control this time. about letting yourself be taken somewhere, not out of submission, but out of trust. you weren’t used to that. you weren’t used to letting anyone drive. but tonight, you wanted to believe you could lean back and just... be.

and then… the car turned down a dark, barely lit road, and you saw it.

a wide, open lot. a giant projector screen glowing at the far end. dozens of cars parked in neat rows, some with trunks open, fairy lights, blankets, snacks. couples curled together under the stars.

it was a drive-in movie. like something out of an old romance film.

you gasped, both hands flying to your mouth as you turned to him.

“oh my god. no way. are you serious?! i love the movies—but i've never done this. i’ve always wanted to, but… i don’t know. it just never happened.”

jaehyun glanced at you sideways. and this time, he smiled. really smiled. not the polite, composed smile he wore in the hallways or meetings—but something warm. something real.

“then it was a good idea,” he said simply.

he parked in the middle row. good view of the screen, but far enough for privacy. you were already melting—and then he popped the trunk.

a thick blanket. two small pillows. a tote bag with snacks—popcorn, a big soda bottle, even the exact chocolate bars you’d once said you liked during a random, probably drunk, late-night conversation. you didn’t even remember mentioning it.

he did.

“did you plan all of this?” you asked, curled slightly sideways in the passenger seat while he arranged everything with care between you.

“i just wanted you to be comfortable,” he said. “i wanted it to be... special.”

no posturing. no hidden motive. just sincerity. you felt it in the way he unfolded the blanket and draped it gently over your lap. in how he checked the window—cracked just enough to let in the breeze, not enough to let in the cold. In how he handed you the soda first, before even opening his own drink.

the movie started. some lighthearted rom-com with ridiculous dialogue and cheesy plot points, but it didn’t matter. it was perfect. low-stakes. no pressure. you curled your legs under you, blanket snug, the flickering light from the screen dancing across your skin.

every once in a while, you’d glance at jaehyun. and more than once, you caught him watching you instead of the film.

“are you bored?” you whispered.

“not even close.”

“you haven’t laughed once.”

he turned to you, that sarcastic little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“you’re already making enough noise for the both of us.”

you gave him a playful slap on the arm, pretending to be offended.

“that was a compliment,” he added, amused.

you rolled your eyes—but smiled. god, you smiled so much that night.

as the credits rolled, something shifted in the silence. the mood thickened—not heavy, just… deeper. weighted with something. a moment hanging on the edge of change. your head leaned against the window as the screen dimmed, your eyes distant but your heart so very full.

he still didn’t touch you.

he didn’t grab your hand. didn’t lean in.

but his presence wrapped around you all the same—solid, patient, waiting. not pushing, just there. learning how to be near you without demanding anything in return.

“thank you,” you said softly, voice almost too quiet to hear. “for this. for everything.”

“you don’t have to thank me.”

“yes, i do. it’s not every day someone goes out of their way like this.”

he paused before answering. his tone was steady, but low.

“i want this to work,” he said. “and if that means planning teenage-level dates with blankets and popcorn, then… yeah. i’ll do that.”

you laughed, eyes dropping to your lap.

“you’re doing well so far.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

and then you looked at each other. just looked. no words needed.

but inside… you felt it.

your shoulders, usually tense, were light. your heart, bruised and cautious for so long, was opening again. quietly, but surely. as if whispering, i’m still here. i still want to believe.

you weren’t sure where this would go. if it would last. if it would end in tears or something worse.

but right now, in his car, under the stars, with the last notes of the film still echoing through your skin…

you wanted to find out.

you wanted to try.

the next morning at the office felt different—less chaotic, more grounded. you greeted the receptionist with a small smile, your heels clicking softly against the marble floor as you made your way in, clutching your coffee cup like a security blanket. you weren't glowing, exactly, but something about you was… softer. less guarded. like a petal finally relaxing in the warmth of spring after a too-long winter.

jaehyun noticed immediately.

you caught him watching you from the glass-walled conference room as you entered the bullpen. he didn't stare, not in a way that would make it obvious to others—but his eyes followed you, just long enough to clock the change. your navy blue pencil skirt hugged your hips, the slit in the back offering just the right amount of grace as you walked. the cream blouse you wore was modest but elegant, the top button left undone, showing the delicate line of your collarbone. your hair was half-up, your makeup minimal, professional—but the gloss on your lips and the quiet shimmer on your eyelids betrayed a whisper of mischief. not overt. just enough for someone paying attention.

you met his gaze briefly through the glass and raised your brows in a silent hello before looking away, sipping your coffee with forced nonchalance.

by the time you crossed paths an hour later—both of you heading into a smaller briefing room—he gave you that look again. the one that asked, really? amused, but faintly disbelieving.

"good morning, mr. jeong," you greeted him politely, eyes straight ahead as if you hadn't spent the last night wrapped in his blanket, watching a movie with your legs tangled under it.

"miss y/l/n," he replied, his lips curving into a knowing smile as he held the door open for you. “very formal today.”

you didn’t rise to the bait. just gave him a brief, professional smile and walked past, heels clicking, not looking back. you were committed to the bit.

the meeting was brief, technical—a review of deliverables, some feedback loops, nothing out of the ordinary. you contributed where you needed to, kept your tone measured, avoided lingering glances. even when he made a rare joke and the room chuckled, you only allowed yourself a small, polite laugh, hands folded neatly on the table.

he didn’t push. but when you passed each other near the coffee station later, his voice dropped low, just enough for you to hear.

“you’re really leaning into the whole executive assistant with boundaries thing, huh?”

you smirked as you refilled your mug, still not looking at him. “just trying to keep things professional, mr. jeong.”

“of course.” he nodded once, pretending to adjust his tie. “wouldn’t want to cross any lines.”

you bit your lip to suppress your grin. the game was on.

at 3:47 PM, your phone lit up with a text from his office number: meeting with the department heads in fifteen. boardroom. don’t be late. signed J.J.

you rolled your eyes but your stomach did a little flip.

the 4 PM meeting dragged—there was a lot of back and forth over campaign numbers and rollout schedules, but you held your own, taking notes, speaking clearly when your insight was needed. you could feel jaehyun watching you when others weren’t—his gaze warm, grounding—but he didn’t speak to you directly unless it was related to the discussion. you appreciated that. It let you stay in control, let you breathe.

after everyone had trickled out and the room was quiet, you stayed behind a moment, closing your laptop and straightening the chairs without a word. he didn’t move from his seat at the head of the table, just watched you as you moved, his fingers idly spinning a pen.

“dinner?” he asked eventually, breaking the silence.

you didn’t look up right away. “are you asking as mr. jeong or...?”

he tilted his head, eyes playful. “just jaehyun.”

you looked up, meeting his eyes. something flickered between you—recognition. of the past few days, the softness in your chest, the way your shoulders had finally stopped bracing for disappointment.

“okay,” you said quietly. “dinner.”

he didn’t take you to a fancy restaurant or anywhere showy. just a quiet little rooftop place downtown, dim lights and mellow music, open air and the sound of the city below. you sat across from him at a small table, knees brushing under the surface. you shared dishes, laughed softly, talked about nothing and everything. he asked about your childhood; you asked about his first heartbreak. there was no rush to get anywhere. just being there—together—was enough.

at some point, after dessert and a second glass of wine, the conversation quieted. the city stretched around you, glittering and alive. jaehyun leaned back in his chair, watching you.

at some point, after dessert and a second glass of wine, the conversation quieted. the city stretched around you, glittering and alive. jaehyun leaned back in his chair, watching you with that open expression he reserved for moments like this—unguarded, gently curious.

“you said you grew up outside the city,” he said, casually swirling the remnants of his drink. “what about your parents?”

you set your fork down and rested your elbows lightly on the table, exhaling. “they still live in the same town. a couple hours from here.”

he nodded. “siblings?”

“one,” you replied. “older brother. married. two little boys.”

jaehyun smiled at that. “you’re the cool aunt.”

you laughed softly, the sound bittersweet. “i try. i send them stickers and weird snacks from the city. but i think i’m mostly the mysterious aunt who lives alone in seoul and doesn’t have a husband, which is a major point of concern for my parents.”

jaehyun raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “concern?”

“oh, huge.” you leaned back, crossing your arms with a mock-serious nod. “they think i’m one heartbreak away from crawling back into my childhood bedroom with a suitcase and giving up entirely. i get the same call every weekend—‘have you met someone yet?’ and ‘when are you coming home, sweetheart?’ like my single status is a national emergency.”

you smiled, tried to make it sound light. funny. but the knot in your chest tugged a little tighter with each word. because underneath the teasing tone, it hurt. the weight of expectation, of having let them down without really meaning to. you’d always thought, by now, you’d have that picture-perfect family. a husband. maybe a child. but life had taken its own sharp turns, and somewhere along the way, you'd lost the map.

before your thoughts could spiral too far inward, you turned your eyes toward him and asked, “what about you? any siblings?”

he shook his head. “only child.”

“wow. that explains the drama,” you teased.

he grinned, playing along. “what drama?”

you shrugged, playful. “the perfectly tousled hair. the quiet confidence. the whole mysterious boss with a tragic past vibe.”

jaehyun laughed, the sound low and warm. “nothing tragic, thankfully. my parents own a condo complex back in busan. they keep to themselves. ever since i moved out, they’ve stayed out of my decisions. no guilt trips. no blind dates.”

he smirked a little, taking another sip. “which is great for me.”

you smiled at that, but there was something about the way he said it—casual, yes, but laced with a kind of loneliness you recognized. the kind that came with being left alone a little too much. with being successful but still carrying a shadow no one quite asked about.

you watched him for a second longer than necessary. then nodded slowly. “that does sound kind of great.”

he looked at you then, really looked, and the silence between you shifted—deeper now. heavy with things not said.

the city hummed around you. glasses clinked from other tables. somewhere, a violinist was playing faintly near the street below. but you only heard the soft cadence of his breath, the way it matched your own.

and then he stood and offered you his hand.

you didn’t hesitate this time. you let him lead you to the edge of the rooftop, where the view was clearer, the air colder. your arms brushed as you looked out together, shoulder to shoulder, warm skin against cool wind.

he turned to you first, eyes darker now, thoughtful. “you don’t need to rush anything. marriage, or whatever they want from you. you’re… okay. just as you are.”

you looked at him slowly, your heart caught somewhere between gratitude and ache. “thanks,” you whispered. “sometimes i forget.”

he stepped closer—barely—but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

you met his gaze, and something shifted between you again. tighter. stronger. the kind of tension that doesn’t demand to be broken, only… felt.

he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. you didn’t.

your lips met his softly, a single, tentative kiss that carried the full weight of everything left unspoken. sweet, searching, the kind of kiss that says i see you. that says stay.

and when you pulled back, your eyes didn’t dart away.

they lingered.

because something had begun. and neither of you was pretending anymore.

there was no big speech. no sudden declarations.

just the quiet gravity of this moment. the closeness. the way his eyes searched yours with a gentleness that made your breath catch.

april melted into may in soft, golden increments—like a candle burning slow at both ends. the weather grew gentler, the evenings warmer, and with each passing day, your relationship with jaehyun unraveled in small, tender pieces that neither of you rushed to name.

you had more dinners together. nothing extravagant—he wasn’t the kind to impress with grand gestures—but always thoughtful. ramen tucked away in a quiet corner shop with mismatched stools. a spontaneous detour after a work meeting that led to an art gallery’s closing hour. coffee at a tiny cafe with mismatched mugs and jazz playing softly from a dusty speaker. with every outing, something softened between you. the way you spoke to each other, the way you lingered a second longer when saying goodbye, the way your eyes found his in a crowded room and stayed there.

still, at work, everything remained perfectly composed. restrained. you never touched, never called him anything but mr. jeong. no one suspected a thing—and that secrecy gave it all the thrill of something sacred. childish almost. like passing notes under a desk. a shared joke disguised in a spreadsheet. your fingers grazing when you exchanged documents. a glance too long in the breakroom when he poured your coffee before you even asked. you could feel it in the air, that charged silence of two people pretending to be just colleagues, and failing quietly, deliciously.

the project itself was moving well—smooth timelines, promising data. it gave you an excuse to spend more time in his office, laptop open across from his, sometimes both of you too focused to speak for long stretches. sometimes one of you talking while the other typed, nodding with half-listening affection. sometimes, on the slow days, the lines between work and personal conversation blurred gently, like ink on damp paper.

today was one of those days.

you sat across from him, legs crossed under the conference table, scrolling through performance reports while he adjusted a chart on his screen. outside the windows, the afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting pale lines across the carpet and the sleeves of his shirt. he leaned back, stretching slightly, then caught your gaze with a small smile.

“so…” he said, voice lower than usual, “what are you doing this weekend?”

you glanced up, biting your lip to hide a smile. “why? do you need me to run more numbers?”

“maybe,” he said, teasing. “but i was thinking something less tragic. maybe the museum? or that poetry cafe you mentioned.”

you shrugged, trying to sound casual. “depends. are you asking as mr. jeong or as… jaehyun?”

he smirked, eyes playful. “i guess that depends on your answer.”

you were about to respond when the door opened without a knock. both of you sat up straighter instinctively, like students caught passing notes. the supervisor from the analytics division stepped in, scanning the room with barely concealed curiosity.

“mr. jeong,” he said, tone clipped, “the director wants to see you.”

jaehyun stood immediately, buttoning his jacket with an easy nod. “i’ll be there in a moment.”

the supervisor looked at you then. his eyes lingered—not long, but long enough. something unreadable passed over his face. “you’ve been spending a lot of time here,” he said, like it wasn’t a question.

you gave him your most neutral smile. “just supporting the project. we’re on a tight schedule.”

“mm.” he said nothing more, just nodded once and stepped out.

jaehyun glanced at you before leaving, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe. or quiet warning. you went back to your laptop, fingers pretending to type while your heart tried to calm its sudden gallop.

the evening found you both in his car again. the sun had already begun its descent, turning the sky a soft shade of apricot. you slid into the passenger seat, closed the door behind you, and without thinking too much, leaned over to kiss his cheek.

his skin was warm under your lips.

he blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a second, he forgot to hide it. the tips of his ears flushed red. he cleared his throat and reached for the ignition, like nothing happened, but his smile lingered, crooked and faint.

“you keep doing that,” he murmured, not looking at you.

“doing what?” you asked innocently.

he shook his head, eyes on the road. “making it hard to pretend we’re not dating.”

you grinned and didn’t answer.

he drove you to the han river, where the breeze was cool and kind, and the crowds were light enough to feel private. you sat cross-legged on the grass, sharing tteokbokki and fried dumplings from paper trays, watching cyclists blur past under the lamplights. a small speaker nearby played an old ballad, sweet and melancholic, and you leaned into his shoulder without needing permission.

“i like this,” you said softly.

“what part?” he asked.

“this part. where everything’s… quiet.”

he didn’t speak immediately. just reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“me too.”

you looked at him, really looked—and it hit you in that moment how far you’d come. from formal greetings and polite distance to soft laughter and shared silence. from stolen glances to kisses on the cheek that left him blushing.

and somehow, without realizing it, you’d stopped keeping count of how many times you thought about him during the day. because now he was part of your days.

and you didn’t want to imagine them without him anymore.

june arrived with a subtle shift in rhythm—projects moved faster, deadlines drew closer, and the sun stayed longer in the sky. the office felt heavier in the afternoons, warm with late spring air and the quiet hum of new beginnings.

one of those beginnings came in the form of kim jungwoo.

he was transferred from the incheon branch—a bright-eyed analyst with quick wit and a laugh that filled corners. you were told he'd be supporting the data team, and since your department handled most of the projections, he was placed right in front of your desk, where your eyes met every time you looked up. your first impression of him was that he was disarmingly charming—too friendly, too easygoing for the stiff, quiet culture of the office—but undeniably efficient. he asked questions that made sense, learned fast, and had a way of easing tension with a joke delivered just under his breath.

you kept things professional, as always. showed him how you sorted the quarterly metrics, how to navigate the company’s outdated database system without crashing it, how to color-code your sheets for easier reading. he listened, smiled, nodded. and eventually, he joked. made you laugh when you’d been staring at the same budget chart for hours. brought you coffee with your name scribbled on the lid in dramatic calligraphy. sometimes too much, sometimes exactly what you needed.

you liked him. platonically. comfortably. it was easy to like jungwoo.

but jaehyun noticed. of course he did.

at first, it was subtle. he’d call you into his office more frequently, asking for reports he usually didn’t request until later in the week. you didn’t think much of it—until you realized he was keeping you in there for hours. even when the topic had already run dry, even when both of you were silently pretending to still be discussing something relevant. you’d glance at your watch, mumble about needing to check on jungwoo’s progress, and jaehyun would give you this look—tight-lipped, unreadable, almost irritated.

the third time it happened, you couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“are you seriously going to keep me hostage in your office every time jungwoo asks me a question?” you asked, laptop balanced on your knees, arms crossed.

jaehyun didn’t answer right away. he leaned back in his chair, one hand draped lazily over the armrest, watching you. but there was tension under his cool expression, the kind that coiled in his jaw.

“you’re my girlfriend” he said, voice low, measured. “even if we have to act like colleagues in this building, you’re not just anyone to me.”

your breath caught. not because of what he said—because of the way he said it. with that sharp, quiet certainty, like it wasn’t up for debate.

“you’re jealous,” you muttered, trying to smile, to turn it into something lighter.

“of course i’m jealous,” he said, leaning forward. “he’s new, he’s charming, and he’s looking at you like he already knows what you taste like.”

your face flushed.

you looked away, but only for a second.

because when you met his eyes again, he stood.

in two strides he was in front of you, taking the laptop gently from your knees and setting it on the coffee table without a word. then he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you—deep, slow, and hungry. there was nothing tentative about it. it wasn’t sweet or shy. it was possession, poured soft and molten through the shape of his mouth on yours. you sighed into it, hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulse thudding in your throat.

he pulled away just enough to speak, voice rough. “don’t tease me about this.”

you nodded, breathless. “okay.”

and then he kissed you again.

the kiss tasted like all the things you weren’t allowed to say out loud. frustration. longing. the ache of pretending, day after day, that you were only what the world let you be. his thumb stroked your jaw as his mouth opened against yours, deeper now, slower. you felt your knees weaken and your thoughts scatter, all logic melting into the heat of the moment.

that night, like every night since the start of your secret, you met him outside the office. his car waited at the edge of the lot, tinted windows and the soft thump of quiet music playing through the speakers. you slid into the passenger seat, your heart already dancing.

this time, he didn’t say hello.

he reached over and kissed you—harder than before, lips parting yours in a way that made your body sing. the car wasn’t moving. neither of you were thinking. you kissed like it was all you knew how to do. mouths hungry, breath shallow, his hand tracing the edge of your thigh just enough to make you gasp. every time you pulled away for air, he followed. every time he groaned into your kiss, you shivered.

he never rushed.

never crossed that line you hadn’t yet spoken about.

but you felt how close it hovered. just under the skin.

and as your lips brushed his one last time before pulling back, your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “i like it when you get jealous.”

his smile was crooked. dangerous.

“you better not like it too much,” he said, his thumb stroking the corner of your mouth, “because next time… i might not let you leave so easily.”

thursday crept in quietly, with no big plans or messages of anticipation. the city, usually loud and hungry for excitement, felt unusually tame that week—like it had spent itself on too many events, too many evenings out, too many people chasing novelty in crowded cafés and rooftop bars. maybe it was just you, though. maybe everything had started to feel dull because your world had shifted to revolve around something—someone—entirely new. and nothing outside of that circle could compare anymore.

you barely spent time in your apartment lately. always out. always in his car, in places that weren’t quite home but felt more real because he was there. so on that afternoon, with your head tilted against the cold surface of your desk and your brain spinning from spreadsheets, you blurted it out between quiet keyboard taps.

“don’t make any plans tomorrow night.”

jaehyun glanced at you from across his office, pen in hand, eyebrows drawn. “should i be worried?”

you smiled without looking up. “you’re staying over. the weekend. at my place.”

the pause was heavy. not uncomfortable, but... loaded. you didn’t dare lift your head until he spoke.

“wait—what?”

and there it was. you looked at him finally, biting your bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide. he looked stunned. genuinely caught off guard.

“you heard me. pack a bag. pajamas. toothbrush. snacks. i don’t know. whatever you need to survive two days with me.”

his face went red. a deep, rich pink that spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. you laughed. he was thinking things.

“ya, what were you imagining?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk.

“nothing!” he defended too fast. “i just... i didn’t expect we’d be spending the weekend... alone like that. it’s not a bad thing. i like it. i like the idea. i just—i mean, we’ve been doing great. this relationship. it feels good. real. and... if it keeps going like this, who knows—maybe one day we’ll get married.”

you froze.

he didn’t say it as a joke. it was quiet. casual. but he meant it.

married.

you hadn’t thought about that in weeks. you’d been so swept up in the rush of the new—new glances, new kisses, new secret dates and stolen evenings. but that word made your heart skip, stumble, leap. it opened a future you hadn’t dared imagine.

married to jeong jaehyun. walking down an aisle. your coworkers gasping. your parents trying to stay calm. him lifting your veil. kissing you like it was the beginning of forever. sunday mornings with kids and cartoons and coffee. vacations. shared bookshelves. him waiting at the door when you got home.

you shook the image out of your head.

“you can’t just say things like that,” you whispered, barely breathing.

“why not?” he asked softly, his eyes sincere. “it’s where we’re going, right?”

friday night came like a slow exhale.

he arrived with a small black duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a sheepish grin. you wore mismatched pajamas—striped pants and a faded hoodie from a school club you barely remembered joining. the sight of you like that made him laugh, and the sound was so unguarded it made your chest ache with affection.

you stayed in. ordered too much food. picked a cheesy rom-com that made you cry halfway through. he kept making sarcastic comments at first, trying to pretend he didn’t care, until somewhere in the middle he got quiet. his hand found yours under the blanket, warm and steady. when the credits rolled, your head was on his shoulder and your eyes were puffy.

“i hate that you made me cry,” you sniffled, wiping your face.

“i didn’t make you cry. blame julia roberts,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

the rest of the night blurred. an improvised dinner of instant noodles and wine, soft music from your phone speaker, him dancing stupidly in the kitchen with a wooden spoon, trying to make you laugh. and you did. hard. the kind of laugh that made you forget to be careful.

when it got late, and the lights dimmed, the kisses came back. slow. long. searching. his hands on your waist, your fingers in his hair, breathing each other in like you were afraid to stop. the heat built, like always, but neither of you pushed further. it wasn’t time. not yet. but god, it was close.

saturday was lazy and warm and beautiful.

you woke up tangled in the blankets, his arm draped over your stomach, his breath soft against your neck. the kind of morning you never thought you’d get to have—where nothing was urgent, and everything felt right.

you took turns in the shower, argued over who finished the milk, and spent an hour sitting on the floor flipping through old photo albums you’d forgotten you had. you didn’t plan to show him—but he insisted. and once he started looking, he didn’t stop.

“wait... this is you in high school?” he asked, pointing at a photo.

“yeah,” you said, embarrassed. “why?”

“you were so cute.”

you rolled your eyes. “i wasn’t popular or anything. i had one boyfriend. lasted a week.”

he stared. “a week?”

“he said i was too uptight and boring.”

jaehyun’s mouth dropped open. “that guy was an idiot.”

you laughed. “no, he was probably right. i’ve always been... structured. controlled. even back then. guess that’s why i’m like this now—such a workaholic.”

he didn’t laugh. instead, he kept looking at your photo—finger brushing over the glossy paper like it meant something.

“if i had met you back then,” he said quietly, “i would’ve fallen in love with you. no doubt.”

your breath caught.

he didn’t look away. “i wouldn’t have let you go. not for a second.”

“you don’t mean that,” you whispered, unsure what else to say.

“i do,” he said, firm. “you’re not boring. you’re brilliant. you’re thoughtful. you see things no one else sees. you work harder than anyone i know. and... you make me want to be better.”

tears pricked your eyes again. not from sadness. just—too much emotion. too much truth.

“you’re going to make me cry again,” you whispered.

“then cry,” he said, pulling you close. “but only if you let me hold you through it.”

the rest of the weekend passed like a dream.

grocery runs in sweatpants. a half-burnt attempt at making pancakes. arguments over which playlist was better for cleaning the kitchen. you wore ridiculous socks with cartoons on them. he made fun of you until you found his even worse ones.

you kissed between chores. kissed while brushing your teeth. kissed while folding laundry.

it wasn’t glamorous.

but it felt like home.

and when sunday night came, and he packed his bag again, you didn’t want him to go. not because of the sex, or the thrill, or the high of newness. but because somewhere between instant noodles and high school photos, you realized something terrifying and beautiful—

you were falling in love.

for real.

for the first time.

towards the end of the month, your phone rings. you’re in your apartment, folding laundry with the window cracked open to let in the soft breeze of early summer. the sunlight filters through sheer curtains, painting everything in golden hues. you glance at the caller id and feel a knot tighten in your stomach. mom.

you answer.

“it’s your father’s birthday this weekend,” she says, skipping greetings as always, her voice a mix of cheerful anticipation and subtle reprimand. “you should come visit. he’s been asking if we’ll see you.”

you agree, almost without thinking, but then comes the dreaded question.

“and? have you found a boyfriend yet or do i need to talk to mrs. lee again?”

you rub your temple. “mom—”

“her son is still single, you know. owns a good piece of land. sells vegetables to that big food corporation. you’d be set for life.”

you exhale deeply, eyes closing in frustration.

“i’m… i’m seeing someone.”

a pause. then her voice lights up like fireworks. “you are? oh, this is wonderful! finally, you’re not wasting away alone up there in that office job.”

“mom, we’ve just started seeing each other,” you say, hesitating. “it’s too soon to—”

“no,” she cuts in firmly. “you don’t have time to be unsure. the train is about to leave the station, sweetheart. you either get on or it’s gone. bring him. we want to meet him.”

before you can argue, the call ends with a clipped goodbye, and you’re left staring at your phone, pulse racing and chest tight.

the rest of the week, you feel like a ghost of yourself. distracted at work, distant on your dates with jaehyun, your mind spinning in loops. he notices immediately—of course he does—and it only takes one missed joke and a quiet dinner for him to call you out on it.

you’re sitting across from him, poking at your food. the restaurant is softly lit, cozy, but there’s a distance in your eyes.

“y/n,” he says, setting his chopsticks down. “what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you mutter, but he leans in.

“don’t give me that. we’re together now, remember? you can talk to me. or… if you’re second guessing this… if i’m moving too fast, just tell me. i can handle it.”

your heart aches at his words. you reach across the table, grabbing his hand.

“it’s not that. i’m not doubting us,” you say quietly. “it’s just… my mom called. she wants me to visit this weekend for my dad’s birthday. and she… kind of expects me to bring you.”

he blinks. then, without hesitation, he says, “okay. then i’ll come.”

you blink right back. “wait, seriously?”

“yes. if it means that much to them—and to you—I want to go. i want to meet your family, y/n. it feels right.”

your chest swells with something warm and terrifying. you nod, silently.

friday comes and your suitcase is zipped and ready by the door. you’re wearing a floral summer dress, light and breezy, with your favorite pair of nude heels that make your legs look longer than they are. your hair is pinned loosely, lip tint soft and rosy. there’s a nervous flutter in your chest when you step outside.

jaehyun is already waiting beside his car, leaning casually against it like he belongs in a photoshoot. he’s in cream linen pants and a sage green button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar open at the throat. his sunglasses reflect the afternoon sun, and he looks, frankly, too good to be standing in your quiet little street. you gulp.

“need help with those?” he says with a grin, reaching for your bags before you can answer.

the ride is filled with music, laughter, and long, thoughtful silences. the kind that don't feel awkward, but full. pregnant with meaning. he holds your hand on the highway, thumb stroking the back of it lazily, his warmth anchoring you through your nerves.

when you pull up to your parents' house—a modest home with stone finishings and a neat little front garden—your heart thunders. everything feels smaller, more fragile, like stepping back in time. your mom rushes out first, apron still tied around her waist, eyes wide and wet with excitement.

and when she sees jaehyun? she nearly cries. “you’re real,” she says, pressing her hands together like she’s witnessing a miracle. your dad comes out next, chuckling as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

“so this is the young man,” he says with a knowing nod, clapping jaehyun on the back. “your mother hasn’t shut up about you since she found out.”

inside, the dining table is set with your dad’s favorite dishes. everything smells like memory. you sit in the living room afterward, your parents across from you, jaehyun beside you on the couch, close enough to feel his knee brushing yours.

he speaks up first, voice calm and clear.

“i just want to say that i’m very serious about your daughter,” he says. “i have genuine intentions. we’re still getting to know each other, but… if things keep going the way they are, i’d like to build a future with her.”

your mother gasps, reaching for a tissue. your father nods slowly, visibly moved.

“this… this is the best birthday gift i could ask for,” he says.

you shrink into the couch, cheeks burning, while jaehyun’s hand finds yours again and squeezes gently.

then comes the chaos.

your older brother, baekhyun, bursts through the door with his wife and two kids in tow. he takes one look at you and smirks.

“who’s the guy and what have you done with my perpetually single little sister?”

you groan. “shut up, baek.”

the two of you bicker like teenagers, tossing playful insults back and forth while your nephews cling to your legs, shouting your name with delight. you hand them the toys you brought and their eyes light up like it’s christmas.

jaehyun watches it all, amused, until one of the boys climbs into his lap and hands him a toy too.

he freezes.

and in that moment, something shifts in him. the sound of children’s laughter, the image of you with a soft smile, cradling one of your nephews in your arms. the warmth of this home, the love in every corner. he imagines it—having this with you. kids with your eyes. a house that’s yours. your framed wedding photo on the wall. vacations. birthdays. late-night talks in bed. wrinkles and silver hair, but still loving you with the same fire.

he blushes.

and you notice.

“what?” you whisper as you lean close.

he shakes his head, smiling to himself. “nothing. just… i really, really like this. all of it.”

the night unfolds gently. dinner turns into stories, stories into laughter, and soon the sun has long set and the house is lit with warm yellow lights. you and jaehyun sit outside for a moment, watching the stars.

he wraps an arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“you feel like home,” you whisper, not even realizing the words have slipped out.

he turns to look at you, eyes soft. “so do you.”

and in the quiet, with the cicadas singing and the echo of your family’s voices drifting from inside, you know.

this might just be the beginning of everything.

the months of july passed by with little to no complications. your parents were pleased with jaehyun, and you could tell that their approval meant the world to him. jungwoo, on the other hand, was playful and teasing, but with a newfound sense of respect, especially as jaehyun started to show more signs of being protective, making sure that jungwoo didn’t cross any boundaries. you were still professional with everyone at work, but the chemistry between you and jaehyun was undeniable. nights together were spent laughing, and weekends were filled with stolen moments of joy, where you both shared something more than just professional courtesy.

jaehyun had made a habit of calling you during the day, just to check on you, and you found yourself doing the same. the conversations were simple, but they felt important. visits to his office became more frequent, sometimes just for work, but other times, it was an excuse to sneak in a kiss or two. the passion between you two continued to build, a slow, steady fire that became increasingly hard to ignore.

one night, a wednesday, you both ignored the weather forecast and decided to take your date out in the city. the air was warm, and the lights of the city sparkled as you walked the streets together. the mood was light, but as midnight approached, the weather took a sharp turn. dark clouds rolled in, and soon, rain began to pour, turning into a violent storm. the wind howled, and the streets quickly flooded. jaehyun’s car struggled against the force of the water, and you couldn’t help but grip the seat, anxious.

jaehyun tried to keep calm, glancing at you with a reassuring smile. “it’s okay, nothing’s going to happen,” he said, though you could tell he was also feeling the weight of the storm.

the rain pounded against the windows, and the car barely moved as the currents began to grow stronger. after what felt like an eternity, you both agreed that waiting in the car wasn’t safe anymore. as you both discussed where to go, a motel appeared in front of you. it seemed like an odd choice, but the parking lot was dry, and there were few other options at that hour. both of you hesitated, unsure of what to do. it was a strange situation—neither of you wanted to suggest anything that could be misinterpreted.

jaehyun was the one to break the silence. “let’s just use the parking lot, at least we’ll have shelter from the rain,” he said. “and if it lasts all night, we’ll have a warm place to stay.”

you nodded, a little nervous. “yeah, i mean, we’re not going to do anything else, right? just sleep, then in the morning, we’ll head back to our places and go to work, right?”

jaehyun smiled at you, trying to ease your nerves. “of course, just a safe place to wait out the storm. no pressure.”

you both parked and got out of the car, a little stiff from the tension, but the moment you entered the motel, things started to feel different. jaehyun took the lead, making sure you were comfortable and settled in, giving you space to breathe. He didn’t rush you, always checking to see how you felt.

both of you were tired from the day, and the weather didn’t help the situation, so after some brief, awkward glances, you both decided to take separate showers to unwind. you both changed into something more comfortable, but since it was summer and it was warm, you decided to just sleep in your underwear. when you looked at jaehyun in his, the moment felt almost surreal. his gaze lingered for a moment before he quickly turned away, as if both of you were still trying to adjust to how close you had become.

“you know,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence, “you don’t have to feel awkward. we’re taking things at our own pace.”

you smiled, feeling your heartbeat quicken at the sound of his voice. “what if i want to go faster?” you said, your words surprising even yourself.

jaehyun looks at you, eyes widening slightly before they darken with something deeper—something he’s clearly been holding back. “are you sure?” he asks, voice low, almost trembling with restraint.

you nod, stepping closer, your fingers brushing against his bare chest. “i’m sure.”

his hands find your waist gently at first, testing the waters, but when you lean into him, he pulls you in like he’s been waiting forever to hold you like this. his lips find yours in a kiss that starts soft, exploratory, but quickly deepens, hungry and needing. he walks you backwards slowly until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp, taking him with you.

his hands roam your body, reverent and slow, like he’s memorizing every inch of you. he whispers your name against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower still. your breath hitches when his mouth lingers between your thighs, his eyes meeting yours, waiting for any sign to stop—but you nod again, your fingers threading into his hair, guiding him closer.

what he gives you isn’t rushed. it’s worship. like he’s been dreaming of this moment for too long to waste it. you lose yourself in the rhythm of his mouth, the way he listens to your body, adjusting, teasing, giving. he doesn’t stop until your thighs are shaking and your voice is broken with moans you couldn’t hold back.

when he finally crawls back up your body, his lips kiss yours again, slower this time, tasting you. he whispers, “still okay?” and you nod, pulling him closer.

when he slides into you, it’s not hurried or careless. it’s deep, slow, and overwhelming in the best way. you cling to him, breathless, as your bodies move together like they were made to. he holds your gaze, foreheads pressed together, sweat-damp skin sticking in the summer heat, but neither of you care.

you whisper his name like a prayer, and he answers with yours, over and over, like he’s trying to brand it into the moment.

you fall apart in his arms, not once, but twice, and he follows soon after, burying his face in your neck as he trembles against you. 

his lips are still on yours when he pushes deeper inside you, and this time, there’s no hesitation. your body arches under him, the stretch of him delicious and overwhelming all at once. he fills you slowly, inch by inch, like he wants to feel every reaction he pulls from you.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes out, forehead resting against yours. “been thinking about this for so long.”

you moan softly, nails dragging down his back as he starts to move, slow at first, rolling his hips into you with precision that makes your legs tremble. he kisses down your throat, biting softly at your skin as he picks up the pace, each thrust hitting deeper, harder. the headboard taps gently against the wall, a quiet rhythm that matches the sound of your breathy moans and his soft, low groans.

your fingers clutch the sheets, the pleasure building with every thrust. jaehyun’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider for him, and the new angle has you gasping his name, your voice breaking. he doesn’t stop—he can’t stop—lost in the feel of you, the sounds you make, the way your body clings to his like it’s the only place it belongs.

he pulls out just enough to see the way you take him, watching your slick coat his length before sliding back in with a filthy, wet sound that makes your toes curl. “look at you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip, eyes locked on yours. “so fucking beautiful like this.”

when he shifts, propping one of your legs over his shoulder, the angle has you crying out, your whole body shuddering. “you’re so deep,” you whimper, and he groans, hips snapping faster, harder, chasing both your highs like a man starved.

your climax hits hard—white-hot and blinding—as your walls clamp down around him, dragging him over the edge with you. he cums with a strangled moan, burying himself to the hilt, his hips stuttering as he spills into you. he stays there, chest pressed to yours, breathing heavy, hearts pounding in sync.

after a few moments, he pulls out slowly, carefully, kissing your shoulder as he lies beside you and pulls you into his arms.

your body’s still trembling when he runs a hand down your spine, voice low and thick with affection. “think we’re still just sleeping?”

you laugh softly against his chest, lazy fingers tracing circles on his skin. “not a chance.”

he kisses the top of your head. “then let’s not sleep yet.”

and before you can even respond, he’s already kissing down your body again—because one round clearly wasn’t enough.

you barely have time to catch your breath before jaehyun’s mouth is back on your skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, between your breasts, over your stomach. his hands roam your thighs with greedy fingers, and even though you’re still sensitive, your body responds instantly—needy, aching, already ready for him again.

“you’re still so wet,” he murmurs, spreading you open with his fingers, dragging two of them slowly through your folds. “fuck, baby… you’re dripping.”

your hips jerk when he circles your clit, light and teasing, and you whine, fingers gripping the sheets. “j-jaehyun…”

he smirks, dark eyes meeting yours as he sinks his fingers into you—slow, deep, curling just right. “you can take it, can’t you?” he says, voice thick with lust. “you want it again.”

you nod helplessly, mouth parted as your back arches off the bed. he fucks you with his fingers until you’re trembling again, begging for him, grinding down onto his hand like you can’t get enough—and you can’t.

when he pulls his fingers out and lines himself up again, there’s no patience this time. he pushes in all at once, rougher, deeper, making your breath catch in your throat. the stretch, the pressure, the heat—it’s almost too much, but you crave every second of it.

he fucks you like he owns you now, one hand on your hip, the other pressing down on your stomach so he can feel himself inside you. “you feel that?” he groans. “you’re taking all of me.”

your moans turn shameless, high-pitched and raw, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room with every thrust. the bed creaks, the headboard pounds against the wall, and you don’t care who hears. he flips you onto your stomach without warning, pulling your hips up, and slides back into you from behind.

you cry out at the new angle, your hands clawing at the sheets as he drives into you, deeper than before. “god—jaehyun, i’m gonna—”

“cum for me,” he growls, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back to kiss the side of your neck. “cum all over my cock, baby.”

your orgasm hits like a shockwave, blinding and hot and overwhelming. your whole body shakes, legs giving out beneath you as he keeps fucking you through it. he follows moments later, groaning your name as he fills you again, hips jerking against your ass, the sound of it all so filthy and perfect.

this time, when you collapse together on the bed, everything is soaked in sweat and heat and the scent of sex. your body is limp, your mind dazed, and he just pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he’s never letting go.

“okay,” you whisper, laughing breathlessly. “now we might need to sleep.”

he chuckles against your hair, voice rough. “maybe. after round three.”

that night at the motel changed everything.

it wasn’t just the sex—though, god, it was incredible. it was the way his hands learned your body like a second language, the way he whispered your name like a secret, the way you both let yourselves fall without fear. that night was messy, breathless, and soaked in want. but more than anything, it was a turning point—a quiet, unspoken agreement that this was no longer just something casual. not for either of you.

after that, the line between love and lust blurred beautifully. sex became part of your rhythm, part of how you communicated. stolen glances in the office turned into stolen kisses in the elevator. late nights became sleepovers, and every morning-after was filled with lazy touches and knowing smiles. you memorized each other’s moans like favorite songs, found new ways to say i want you, even when the words themselves weren’t spoken.

but there was one night that stood out. the one you still think about more than any other.

it was the night you stayed over at his apartment—just the two of you, no distractions, no storms outside, only the slow burn between your bodies. dinner turned into kisses. kisses turned into the first round on his kitchen counter, then the second in the shower, steam fogging up the mirror as your bodies tangled and slipped together like water and flame.

by the third round, it was past midnight. you were already sore, breathless, but insatiable. he pulled you back into bed, whispering things in your ear that made your skin burn. he was rougher that time—hungrier—gripping your hips as he fucked you deep and slow, drawing out every moan until your voice was hoarse and your mind was gone.

you were on top, riding him with lazy, desperate rhythm, your head thrown back, your nails digging into his chest. he looked up at you like you were something divine, his hands guiding your pace, eyes locked on the place where your bodies met.

and just when your orgasm started to hit—when everything went hot and tight and unbearably good—the words slipped out of you.

“i love you.”

your voice cracked around it, high and trembling, your body still grinding against his, your climax crashing over you like a wave. for a split second, everything stopped. you felt him freeze beneath you, heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the shock in his eyes.

you hadn’t meant to say it like that. not in the middle of fucking. not when you were bare in every sense of the word.

it was reckless. vulnerable. raw.

but not wrong.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, and then he was sitting up, arms wrapping around you, thrusting up into you so hard and deep that you sobbed out his name.

“i love you too,” he groaned against your neck. “fuck, i love you so much—too much.”

and then he came—hard and fast, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

afterward, you just lay there on top of him, chest to chest, skin to skin, hearts pounding in unison. there was no awkwardness. no regret. only this strange, beautiful calm that settled over the room like dawn.

it was in that moment you realized just how deep your feelings for him ran.

what had started as a simple plan—just something to avoid growing old alone—had become the best part of your life. somewhere along the way, between the office visits and shared glances, motel rooms and quiet mornings, you had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with jaehyun.

and the craziest part?

you couldn’t imagine ever thinking of anything—or anyone—else but him.

august wrapped around you like a golden ribbon, thick with heat and filled with the kind of breathless anticipation that only comes after months of hard work. the project was done—finally—after weeks of stress, endless reports, last-minute corrections and late nights. but it was done. and not just done, but successful. glowing feedback, client satisfaction, numbers that sang. it was more than you had dared to hope for.

and then—the email.

subject line: promotion confirmation.

you stared at it for a full minute before opening it. and when you read the words “congratulations, supervisor,” your breath hitched. you covered your mouth. you gasped. and then you ran.

jaehyun wasn’t even at his desk anymore, he was just walking into the hallway when you caught him. “jaehyun!” you called, your voice trembling with a kind of joy that had nowhere to go.

he turned, concerned for half a second—until he saw your face. and then you said it.

“i got it.”

“you got what?” he blinked, confused.

“the promotion.”

his eyes widened. he froze for a second. and then—his arms were around you before you could even finish breathing. he lifted you, spinning you once, twice, both of you laughing as you clutched his shoulders and buried your face in his neck.

“oh my god, baby—you did it! i knew it, i knew you would!”

you were dizzy, and not just from the spinning. he kissed your cheek, your temple, your lips. everything was warm and golden and right.

he took you out that night.

you didn’t go anywhere fancy—jaehyun insisted that celebrations should be personal, not performative. so he drove you to that one little pizzeria you loved, the one that made the potato crust just the way you liked it. he ordered your usual without asking, and when the wine came, he raised his glass first.

“to you,” he said, his eyes soft and gleaming under the low light. “my brilliant, unstoppable, incredible woman.”

your heart swelled so fast it almost ached. the clink of your glasses felt like the sound of a new chapter opening.

“i’ve never had this before,” you confessed, fingers curling around the stem of your glass. “celebrating something this big. with someone i love. it feels…” you laughed, shy and overwhelmed. “it feels like everything’s different now.”

jaehyun reached for your hand, his thumb stroking the back of it slowly.

“it is different,” he said. “because now, every good thing that happens to you—we get to celebrate it. together.”

you stared at him, your chest tight with emotion, with the kind of love that had no bottom, no edge. just more.

you leaned across the table, kissing him slow, deep, grateful. pizza between you, wine in your veins, your laughter echoing off the walls of that tiny booth.

you didn’t need fireworks.

this was better.

this was yours.

mid-september arrived with a softness that clung to the air—warm enough to feel like summer still lingered, but mellowed by the early hints of fall. the leaves hadn’t turned yet, but something in the wind carried change. maybe that’s what had been stirring inside you all week—a restless certainty that had taken root in your chest and bloomed with every kiss, every sleepy morning wrapped around each other, every whispered i love you that escaped your lips without hesitation. it had been five months, five months of chaos and clarity, of fire and softness, and you knew now—you didn’t want to wait anymore.

you wanted jaehyun. not in a month. not after careful plans. now.

so you climbed the steps to his office, heart thudding like a war drum, nerves tangled with determination. you paused outside the door, breathed once, twice, and knocked.

“come in,” his voice called, muffled behind the heavy door.

you stepped in and found him at his desk, back slightly hunched, focused on the glow of his screen. he looked up, and the moment he saw you, he smiled—that slow, dazzling smile that always made your knees feel like melted wax—and stood immediately, walking toward you without hesitation. he cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you like he’d been waiting to do it all day.

“jaehyun,” you said, voice almost trembling, more from the gravity of what you were about to say than nerves. he pulled back slightly, tilting his head.

“yeah?”

you met his eyes and, without giving yourself the chance to second-guess it, you let it fall from your lips.

“i want to marry you.”

his lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across his features. he blinked, as if trying to be sure he heard you right.

“i know, baby,” he said, a soft chuckle lacing his words. “that was the whole deal, right? but remember—we said after november. we’d have more time to plan, get everything ready—”

“no,” you interrupted, stepping forward, clutching his hands tightly. “i don’t want to wait till november. i mean it. i want to marry you now. today, tomorrow, next week—i don’t care when or how. i just want to be yours. forever.”

he stared at you, quiet. processing. his brows drew together, and then lifted again like the meaning had just landed fully. his hands gripped yours tighter.

“but—what about the wedding? your parents, mine—”

“we’ll figure it out,” you whispered. “but this... this love we have, i don’t want to keep treating it like something that needs to be scheduled. it’s real. it’s now.”

he took a breath, deep and full. and then, his expression softened into something vulnerable and glowing—his eyes shone with something deeper than just affection. he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “you want to be my wife.”

you nodded, lips brushing his as you breathed, “more than anything.”

his thumbs brushed over your cheeks, as if committing this moment to memory. “then we’ll do it. not because it’s rushed, but because we know. we’ve known. and if you want to be my wife now... then i’ll make it happen. we’ll get married. i promise.”

and he kissed you again, this time slower, as if sealing an oath between your mouths.

the proposal happened three days later.

he told you it was just a normal date—dinner, then a walk somewhere scenic. no pressure. he even played it off by wearing something casual: a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled, soft beige slacks, and the cleanest pair of loafers you’d ever seen. he looked devastatingly handsome without trying.

he picked you up and drove toward the edge of the city, toward the river trail where the summer festivals were usually held. the area was quiet now, early autumn having driven the crowds away. but fairy lights still dangled from the trees, twinkling faintly as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm, honeyed hue over everything.

he walked with you along the wooden path, your fingers tangled. his hand was slightly clammy. you noticed, and your heart fluttered, thinking—he’s nervous. the realization made you giddy.

and then, just as you reached the little bridge that overlooked the water, he stopped.

“wait here,” he said softly, squeezing your hand. “don’t move.”

he jogged a few steps ahead, ducked behind a low fence near a cluster of trees, and returned with a bouquet of peonies—your favorite. you hadn’t told him that. he remembered.

your eyes began to water.

he handed them to you, smiling shyly, and then pulled something out of his pocket.

a velvet box.

he opened it without a speech, without fanfare. his voice was soft, his eyes locked on yours like the world outside didn’t exist.

“you already said yes,” he whispered. “but i want to do this right.”

he got down on one knee, the gravel crunching beneath him, and held the ring up.

“y/n, will you marry me—not next month, not in theory, not in some future we’re still trying to picture... but now. for real. because i’m yours. and you’re mine.”

you didn’t cry. you sobbed. like an idiot. like a girl who had waited her whole life for someone like him. you nodded so fast your vision blurred and fell into his arms, and he kissed you like he was promising you the rest of forever.

in that moment, september never felt sweeter.

telling the company was a whole thing.

it started with a scheduled meeting—a weekly operations check-in with the usual suspects: team leads, upper management, the supervisor, and a couple of sharp-eyed executives who never missed a detail. it was jaehyun’s idea to make it official at work, to do it clean and direct and proudly. no rumors. no hiding. just the truth, glowing and solid like the ring that now lived permanently on your finger.

you both walked into the meeting room together, which wasn’t unusual, but something in the way your hands brushed as you took your seat already had jungwoo giving you the side-eye.

the presentation started, charts and projections lighting up the screen behind jaehyun as he stood with calm confidence. it was business as usual—until the last slide.

"before we wrap up," he said, glancing back at the room, his eyes finding yours briefly before turning to the group again, "i have one personal announcement to make."

you swallowed. jungwoo leaned forward like a damn hawk. mr. choi narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as if he'd been waiting for this moment since spring.

jaehyun smiled—soft, boyish, unbothered. “as some of you may know… or have guessed," he said, and gave jungwoo a teasing look that made him gasp, "i knew it," he muttered dramatically—"y/n and i have been seeing each other for a while.”

the room exploded. a gasp from the secretary and the supervisor actually choked on his coffee. someone in the back whispered “what the fuck” under their breath.

jaehyun held up a hand, a little smug, a little amused.

“and, as of last weekend… we’re engaged.”

your cheeks were burning. your heart thundered. you expected chaos, maybe disapproval, but what followed was—

cheering. clapping. wide eyes and stunned smiles. even mr. choi looked like he was trying very hard not to grin.

“you’re marrying jaehyun? our jaehyun?” he blinked at her, then looked at jaehyun like he’d just discovered a double life. “okay, i knew something was going on. i’m not blind. but marriage? dude, that’s insane. like, insane in the good way, but—holy shit.”

you stood up, feeling brave. “we just didn’t want to hide it anymore,” you said. “we’re really happy. and we hope you’ll be happy for us too.”

the room burst into applause again. someone shouted, “wedding invites or we riot!”

the parents came next.

you visited your family first. your mom opened the door and immediately noticed the ring. she gasped, dropped the dish towel she was holding, and squealed in that way only mothers can. within seconds, your dad was there too, grinning, eyes glossy, holding jaehyun’s shoulder like he was already part of the family.

"are you kidding me," your mom kept saying. "you're engaged? oh my god, you're engaged!"

you nodded, trying not to cry as she hugged you so tight it hurt.

“he’s everything i ever wanted for you,” your dad told you quietly, before giving jaehyun a very serious handshake. “you take care of her.”

“always,” jaehyun promised, voice thick with sincerity.

then it was his parents' turn.

you were more nervous, but you shouldn’t have been. the moment jaehyun’s mom saw you, she pulled you into a hug, muttering in korean how beautiful you were, how she’d been praying her son would be smart enough to not let you go. his dad was more reserved, but the sparkle in his eye said everything. when jaehyun said, “we’re getting married,” his mother clapped her hands and screamed like she’d just won the lottery.

“we’re so happy,” she said, eyes shining. “you are already family.”

they brought out food, wine, photos from jaehyun’s childhood. his mom made you take home a tupperware of kimchi and a crocheted doily she claimed she made for whoever he married one day. she said she just had a feeling it was going to be you, and jaehyun turned red.

it turned out that weddings—real weddings—took a lot more time to plan than y/n had expected. even with jaehyun’s calming presence and the help of a surprisingly competent wedding planner, the months passed like petals falling from a tree: softly, quickly, too beautifully to hold onto.

they settled on march 28. it gave them just enough time to breathe, to build, to dream together.

from the moment they told everyone—first their friends, then their families, and finally, in a hilariously formal email, the entire company—the whirlwind began. the announcement caused a stir so loud in the office that y/n had to leave her desk just to get some peace.

the directivos were equally shocked, though mostly amused. her supervisor just nodded sagely, like he’d been betting on this since the beginning.

“you two were always ‘too in sync’,” he said, raising his coffee mug in mock toast. “i give it six months before one of you becomes the other's boss at home too.”

and then came the parents.

jaehyun’s mother cried when she met y/n, tears slipping down her cheeks as she hugged her tight and whispered in korean, “you’re even more beautiful than he said. and i knew he was in love the first time he said your name.”

her own parents, after recovering from the initial shock, became obsessively involved in the planning, sending flower samples, playlist suggestions, and opinions on wedding favors at all hours of the day. but none of it was overwhelming. not with jaehyun there, always pulling her back into calm. always making sure this was their wedding, not anyone else’s.

they chose a venue outside the city—a small vineyard with soft hills, blooming wisteria, and golden light that melted everything it touched. march 28 arrived with the scent of earth and lilac, a warm wind, and the sky so blue it almost hurt to look at.

y/n stood before a mirror in a white gown that made her feel like everything good in the world had been sewn together just for her. she could hear the quiet rustle of guests arriving, the soft music playing in the distance, the laughter of children running between the rows of flowers.

and then, jaehyun.

when she saw him waiting at the altar, dressed in a suit that fit like second skin, with his hair slightly tousled and a look in his eyes that could undo galaxies—she forgot how to breathe.

he mouthed “you’re perfect” as she walked down the aisle.

she mouthed “you’re mine.”

the ceremony was intimate, emotional, wrapped in vows that made everyone cry—even jungwoo, who tried to play it off by pretending he had allergies.

“i promise to protect your dreams as fiercely as my own,” jaehyun said, voice trembling slightly, “and to always make sure your pizza has the right amount of potato crust, even when we’re eighty.”

“i promise to choose you, even on the days we forget how lucky we are,” y/n replied, tears in her eyes. “and to never let the fire between us die, even when we’re old and gray.”

they kissed.

and the world felt new again.

their first dance was under strings of fairy lights, barefoot on the grass. the song was soft, a slow jazz tune that jaehyun had played for her once in the car when she’d been crying. now, with her head against his chest, they swayed like the wind had been made just for them.

“we did it,” she whispered.

“we did,” he said. “and i’d marry you again tomorrow if i could.”

the honeymoon came a few days later. they chose santorini, greece, not for the postcard beauty or luxury, but because y/n had once told him, offhandedly, that she always dreamed of watching the sun melt into the sea from a white rooftop. he remembered.

their suite was perched on a cliff, overlooking the caldera, with white walls and blue domes and windows that opened to eternity. the first night, they sat on the balcony with a bottle of wine, their feet touching, their hands always searching for each other.

they kissed under sunsets and made love under stars. they danced in narrow streets, shared kisses between sips of ouzo, fed each other olives and sweet baklava. they were ridiculous. and in love. and utterly themselves.

“this is the life i want,” y/n whispered one night, tangled in cotton sheets, her cheek against his chest.

“then it’s the life we’ll have,” jaehyun said. “forever.”

and this time, forever didn’t sound like a fairytale.

it sounded like a promise.

three years passed like chapters in a love letter—written slowly, lived fully.

you and jaehyun made a home out of a sleek little apartment tucked into the rhythm of the city. it was all black wood and soft gray, velvet cushions and open windows where sunlight poured in like gold. it wasn’t big, but it held your whole world. your toothbrushes leaned against each other. your shoes tangled by the door. your laughter lived in the walls.

mornings were sleepy and soft—coffee mugs clinking, your legs wrapped around his under the kitchen table, newspaper pages ignored in favor of each other’s eyes. nights were even softer—blankets twisted around you, movie soundtracks playing in the background while your fingers danced across his skin. the kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures—just the warmth of his palm on your thigh and the way he said “come here” like home itself.

but then, one evening, the quiet changed.

you were in the bathroom. pacing. heart in your throat. your phone timer ticked like thunder in the silence. the test rested on the sink, small and still—like it held the weight of the universe. you sat on the edge of the tub, knees pulled up, trying to breathe.

when the timer stopped, you moved like you were underwater. slow. hesitant. scared.

two pink lines.

you stared. blinked. stared again.

your lips parted, the shape of a whisper you couldn’t form. your hands trembled, and for a moment, the whole world tilted—just you and that tiny piece of plastic and everything it now meant.

you stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot, holding the test like it might shatter.

jaehyun was on the couch, lounging with his phone, one leg bent lazily, hair tousled from running his hand through it too many times. he looked up. paused. frowned softly. “baby… what is it?”

you didn’t answer right away. just walked toward him—slow, like the floor might disappear—and placed the test in his hand.

“we’re gonna be parents!!”

the silence cracked. and then—

jaehyun surged forward, arms wrapping around you so tight you gasped. he lifted you off the ground, spinning you around the living room like a kid on christmas morning, laughter bursting from his chest, from yours, from some place deep inside where all the hope had been hiding.

you were both crying. laughing. kissing. saying “we did it!” over and over again like a prayer you never thought you’d get to say out loud. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice shaking, “we’re having a baby.”

“we’re having our baby,” you whispered.

months passed like petals falling from a blooming tree.

you were glowing. exhausted, but glowing.

your blush-pink maternity dress clung gently to your growing belly, printed with tiny white florals that made jaehyun smile every time he saw you in it. your feet were bare, your ankles swollen, your back ached constantly—but he was always there, hands rubbing your spine, lips on your shoulder, whispering, “you’re magic, you know that?”

the nursery was nearly finished—lavender walls painted with care, gold stars twinkling on the ceiling, and a soft mobile that played lullabies like stardust. the crib waited, delicate and perfect, with a plush bunny nestled in the corner.

jaehyun was kneeling by the dresser, sweat on his brow, tongue between his teeth as he finished the final drawer. he looked up, eyes finding you immediately, and god—he looked at you like the whole sky lived inside your smile.

“she’s gonna love this room,” he said, standing to press a hand to your belly. his palm warm. grounding. full of quiet awe. “our little moon.”

you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “i hope she gets your eyes,” you whispered.

he smiled, eyes soft with wonder. “and your heart,” he murmured. “especially your heart.”

the room went quiet again—except for the soft hum of the mobile spinning slowly above the crib. gold stars turned, catching the light.

and in that moment, just one suspended, breathless moment, everything was still.

you. him. her.

and the love that built it all.

finally. completely.

beautifully yours.

[tddyhyck]

Tuesday [ l. dh ]

pairings ⇢ bf!hyuck x reader x mark x jeno x jaemin x jisung

warnings ⇢ 18+ free use, common hole, urinal, mind break, pet names: pup(py), papa, oppa, baby, mean names: too long to list, lowkey stockholm syndrome, shibari, all the bodily fluids, hairy bush, toys, body writing as humiliation, dumbifiction, odd relationship dynamics, nipple clamps, various sex toys, breeding, implied sterilization???, smell kink, bathroom sex, bukkake, watersports (piss drinking, golden showers, pissing inside), cum, spit, and piss as lube, edging, overstimulation, mentioned - object insertion, pussy inspection

word count ⇢ 13.7k

a/n ⇢ this is utterly filthy hehe i forgot to add the link to the pic that inspired this!! not sure the original source i reversed image searched and picked the oldest but alas ANYWAYS ,,

masterlist - ao3 - inspo image

the familiar sound of the alarm breaks the silence of the room and fills your tummy with excitement. you sit on stained sheets looking at hyuck still snuggled up in his covers. reaching over and petting his face softly, as his eyes flutter open. 

“what a good view,” he sighs, looking up at your waiting eyes. stretching from his nap, he reaches around for his phone, turning the alarm off. “are you excited?”

“unhuh, i love Tuesday,” you grin bouncing on your knees making the bed creak. he pulls you to him squeezing you to his chest ass in the air and you breath deeply his musk filling your nose. it felt like a lifetime between now and last Tuesday. 

“you’re so soft. how about we cancel and i just sleep some more and you get to be my pillow,” he holds you closer. 

“oppaaaa,” you whine, kicking your legs in defiance. “it’s Tuesday, we can’t skip Tuesday.”

“i guess you’re right. they wouldn’t be too happy huh?” he tips your chin reaching to kiss your cheek. he pulls you on top of him tugging at the shirt you wear. one of his, stained a strange yellow color. he drags a hand from your face down your chest pressing the fabric over you. tensing as his hand soothes over the bulge in your tummy. 

“such a good listener,” he comments, poking at the tight skin. you whimper leaning over grabbing his arms for support. “what’s wrong pup?”

“just,” you sigh, shaking your head, gathering yourself. “so full. been waiting all day.”

“yeah? drinking all your glasses?” he squints looking at the white board beside his computer. your name with tally marks beside it one for each of the glasses of water you’ve had. you nod bouncing on him, liking the way his soft cock mushes against your covered center.

“i even had one more,” grinning holding up a finger. he raises his eyebrows at you. 

“hmmm, you must have to go really bad huh?” he asks, both hands soothing your tummy now. soft pressure against your bursting bladder makes you tense again. 

“oppa, please, i want to hold it more, it feels so good,” you whimper, head hanging down as your hand rubs over your cunt trying to keep everything in. 

“you’re so gross,” his familiar comment makes your heart swell and face heat. “such a filthy little head for such a pretty girl.” he pokes at your forehead. 

“just so,” you can’t fully describe how it feels. the push against your bladder, the tickle it makes you feel between your legs. he watches you try to explain the feeling going on in your tummy and between your legs, but your head is mushy. 

“i know,” he knows all too well. you still have a hand rubbing over your panties soft circles you don’t realize you're making. he lifts your shirt to watch you, a large wet spot already making the fabric transparent. he rubs over your panties a bow at your waist curly hairs peeking out. 

“what have you been doing while i was sleeping?”

“just watching you,” you sigh. “played some, but i kept getting stuck in the water and it made it so hard so i had to turn it off. finished drinking all my water. made some snacks for you.”

“what else?”

“even rode my toy like you asked. but i didn’t cum i promise.” holding out a pinky he takes it with his own. leaning over him you grab your phone scrolling to the video you took just 15 minutes ago. he reaches for it, turning the volume up and watching. 

you sit shyly hearing yourself whine and your pussy squelch as he smiles at the screen. watching your toes curling around the base as you ride the cock made just like his a silicone copy for you to stuff yourself with.

you’d been so shaky trying to hold back your bladder and your orgasm as you leaned over your face pressed to the seat of hyuck’s sticky gaming chair. the smell of old release filling your nose making you drool into the fabric. 

“my girl,” he coos sliding his finger under your moving hand curling it to tickle your clit.

“didn’t even wake you up or anything,” you swell with pride. you wonder how long the video is, you don’t even remember. the push of the tip hitting your bladder made you sit fully on the toy grinding needy hips for more.

you could feel his soft cock growing against you not even realizing you relax into the touch but not before your eyes shoot open whining as you remember your full bladder.

“mmmm what is it?” you don’t respond, moving your hips and pushing your clit against his lazy finger. his chubby cock rubs against your thigh, you want to touch him, have him in your mouth while he tells you to let go all you’ve been holding but it’s Tuesday. 

“c'mon pretty, we've gotta get you all set up huh?” he pulls away tossing your phone to the side as the video still plays and you slide off of him not before he can lay a slap on your ass.

you follow him obediently and he walks down the hall and opens the bathroom, not the one in your shared room but the one beside the kitchen. the door creaks open, its only use happening on Tuesday. the floor is cold and the same tools are on the counter, shelves still full with things. 

“now or later?” he looks at you. you already know what he’s asking. 

“can i have it twice?” you pout up at him. eyes big and lips bigger reaching to tug at his shirt. he really can’t resist. 

“since you had extra water i guess you deserve a little reward.” you scramble to your knees the moment he agrees, excitement on your face. 

“such an eager puppy. been waiting for it?” you nod, opening your mouth greedily. “how do you want your treat?”

“can i hold you please,” you bounce on your knees, hand reaching for his shorts. he nods, hand cupping your cheek and you snuggle into his touch. you slither up the leg of his shorts, usually you’d pull them down but you want to be a little different. he cocks a brow at you watching you push the fabric up bunching around his soft cock. 

you can’t resist pushing your face to him breathing deeply to smell him. nosing at his balls you can’t help when your mouth drops open and your tongue slides over them. 

“hey hey, don’t get distracted.” he corrects you by slapping your cheek. you straighten your back pulling away. you think you could live in his crotch breathing his smell in all hours of the day. 

“sorry, oppa,” you apologize sweetly and his face softens. you tug at his soft cock pulling the foreskin back exposing the chubby head. you lean in licking your lips before kissing the tip. sticking your tongue out swirling under the foreskin greedily collecting the taste. he sighs when your lips wrap around the tip like a straw. he moans and you feel his hot piss start to dribble into your mouth. 

mouth vibrating around his tip when you whine at the taste. so bitter and familiar, filling your mouth quickly you swallow as more follows refilling your waiting hole. his hand rubs over your face pushing at your filling cheeks.

you pull away catching your breath letting the still flowing piss hit your chest in hot streams. more yellow stains start to form as he releases more and more and more. you lean back in, mouth open tongue flat accepting it all like a good little piss girl. 

“fuck,” he groans as the stream slows. still holding his chub in your hand letting the dribbles hit your tongue before swallowing. you pull him in your mouth again sucking and licking up the last of his liquid. you whine when it’s all gone missing the flavor already. he pulls your hair pulling you off of his soft cock tongue still trying to lap. 

“so greedy, still wanting more. don’t worry little pissy girl you’ll have some soon,” he leans over you pushing his own tongue into your mouth tasting the bitterness on your tongue. you moan at the thought soon you will have all the piss you can take. 

“let’s get you ready,” you let go of his cock and he holds your arms lifting you to your feet. he feels so safe. 

“let’s put your shirt here,” he lifts the wet shirt off of your skin. the fabric sticks, making your tits bounce as he pulls it over your head. he puts it on the floor in front of the toilet so it can collect all the things.

your toes wiggle in the now cooling piss that escaped your mouth. you want to be really gross and put your face to the floor and lick it all up. but hyuck said you don’t get to clean the floor until after Tuesday. 

“what’s got you so sticky?” he pulls the waistband of your panties away peeking at the slick sticking to your bush. 

“you know,” you don’t want to tell him everything you’ve been thinking about. he spits into your open panties before slapping them back on your skin, patting over his spit to mix with your slick. 

“do i?” he grins at you. 

“keep thinking about last Tuesday. so many of your friends came,” you whimper at the memory. 

“awww do you want more or less?” he tugs your panties down and you step out, feet pattering in the puddle. 

“mmmm,” you think as he shoves your panties into his pocket. 

“depends on who. i like-“ you pause, nervous to admit it. 

“no secrets tell me baby,” he holds your hips pulling you closer. 

“sometimes i like it more when it’s your friends. you know people i know. but sometimes i just like when they’re people i've never even met. it’s more i dunno.” you ramble and he nods at you. 

“what about this Tuesday? what mood are you in,” he tilts his head at you waiting for your answer. you lean into him sticky tits pressing to his shirt. 

“your friends,” you sigh into his neck. 

“you’re in for a treat then.” he pulls you away kissing your nose making your scrunch your face. “you even did your hair, didn't you?”

you nod shyly, turning away as your face warms. he twirls a pigtail around his finger. 

“gonna try something different tonight okay?” you nod. “need a yes or no okay.”

“yes please,” you grin at him. he pats your head before sitting you onto the cold toilet seat, the temperature sends a little shiver over the backs of your thighs. 

“let me see you,” he bends down and you spread your legs wide you hold your thighs as he peaks at your cunt.

“so wet.” he hisses, sliding a finger between your folds. you wiggle your butt trying to get closer to his touch. “such a pretty cunt.” his fingers continue spreading your lips to look at your waiting hole. he could just shove his fingers in you right now, you’re already open for him. 

“oppa,” he looks up at you. “you’re getting distracted.” repeating his words from earlier makes him smile. 

“sorry,” he pulls away, licking his fingers before standing back up. he grabs the stained rope from the counter.

“hold your arms up, baby. “you do as he says, dropping your thighs so you straddle the seat. the position makes you too comfortable, the muscle memory hitting you and you squeeze your legs together. he giggles at you and it makes your tummy flip. grabbing your hands gently as he wraps the rope around your wrists. 

“i think you’re going to like this position,” he says absentmindedly, focusing all his attention on the way the rope binds your wrists together. “so pretty and exposed.” your legs squeeze together tighter the push on your bladder not going away. 

“don’t leak baby,” he can already read your mind, see the way you tense and squirm. the rope is rough but soft from overuse. usually he keeps your arms pressed against your thighs and your knees bent. but the arms over your head make you wonder. 

“legs up baby,” you try to open your legs and lift them but the position presses against your bladder. tightening your muscles as your piss pushes and pushes and pushes. he holds your legs open shifting your ass nearer to the edge of the toilet seat.

settling his knees on your dirty shirt, face to your sticky cunt he begins wrapping your legs. thighs tightening as the rope binds around them, squeezing your skin. you get a little giddy thinking of the burns on your skin after it’s all over. your heart swells more watching all the work he is putting in, he loves you so much and takes such good care of you. 

“i love you,” you mumble dumbly. he smirks, still focusing on his work. 

“what’s got you spilling your guts?” he reaches a hand to pat your head. 

“just love you so much. oppa takes such good care of me. makes me pretty and happy and still likes my loose cunt.” 

“mmmm but you’re already so pretty for me,” you whine at his comment, heart growing in your chest. 

“love you,” you repeat, head soft and mushy with the feelings for him. 

“i love you, pretty baby,” he leans in, kissing your thigh sweetly before moving lower to wrap your ankles. you keep repeating i love you’s as you watch him. head growing dumber as he fixes you up. 

“now baby, listen to me,” you look up at him trying to focus. “if you wiggle or move your wrists too much it’s gonna get really tight.” you nod up at him ‘no wrist wiggling, check’.

“and if you tug a lot,” he pauses wanking the rope behind your wrist making your legs fold pushing your tummy. “like that, your legs are going to bend even more. then you’ll start dribbling and we don’t want you leaking just yet.” you shake you head agreeing with him, even though you want to leak so bad.

“got it, no wiggling or tugging.”

“good girl.” he stands looping the rope over the hook he’d put behind the toilet just for Tuesdays. 

“so excited aren’t you? thinking about all the cocks plowing through you tonight. want to guess how many you might get?” this was a little game he loved to play with you the closer you were to the right amount the more orgasms you’d receive through the week. the farther away the more water you had to drink on next Tuesday. 

“mmmm maybe,” you paused thinking, running through a list of people. you know what’s going to happen but that doesn’t stop the desire forming your tummy. “three.” 

“are you cheating? checking my phone or something?” you shake your head as he slaps your clit, and make your wrists wiggle, tightening the rope. “my pretty girl’s just a good guesser.”

“is it really three? did i get it?”

“hmm we’ll have to wait and see. you know i can’t tell you until after baby.” he grabs the jingling bells from the counter. he said he got the bells so he can hear how hard you’re getting pounded.

using a finger he pinches your nipple hardening the bud in his fingers. the clamp squeezes you as it jingles. reaching for the other nipple pinching it rubbing a nail over the bud making you whine. attaching the other clamp and he starts tightening it.

the pinch runs straight to your pussy, tightening and tightening as it jingles. you keep telling him you should just get them pierced but he said there’s no fun in that. 

he runs a hand down your chest inspecting his work, his perfect girl exposed and spread out on her throne. fingers trailing from your pigtails down to your sticky hair that covered your pussy. 

hyuck told you he liked the way his cum looked when he painted you down there. but he still bent you over the tub and shaved down the lips and your pucker. the smooth razor tickling your skin as he groomed you. made you his pretty doll.  

“now let’s inspect that little cunt,” he gets back down level with your spread pussy. “such a pretty hole.” his fingers tug at your folds so he can see inside. 

“let’s make sure you’re ready.” you nod, bells jingling. he uses a finger to open you up but it’s way too easy, no resistance and it’s not enough for you. the toy you’d rode stretched you, made you loose and sloppy. 

“we’re just ruining your hole aren’t we?” cunt stretched from all the Tuesdays. he grins, adding a second finger from his other hand pushing inside of you to get a glimpse of your walls. he leans closer spitting inside of you making you moan. pulling his fingers out patting your cunt making sticky sounds as he does. 

he looks at the shelf on the wall. toys of all shapes and sizes are starting to pile on top of each other. the lower shelf had less, common, toys. cans and bottles, markers, a bag of ping pong balls, various vegetables he replenished that morning just for you, and your favorite, a toy water gun. 

you watch him rummage for something before he grabs the strawberry plug from the top shelf. he said you were so sweet so he had to get you something to match.

you feel giddy wondering what he’s going to do to you. you see his once soft cock now bobbing under his shorts. was it you making him so excited? were you pleasing him?

“since i gave you all my piss now and you get it later,” he pauses sitting the plug on the counter. “i’m gonna fuck you now and later. prep you for them and get you when you’re all soppy and loose.” you whimper at the thought watching him intently. 

“how’s your tummy?” he asks, pushing on your flesh and you moan out forgetting about the pulse against your bladder but now it comes shooting back. 

“gonna,” you whine, tensing as tightly as you can. 

“why don’t i have a taste, let me give you a little break.” he leans in, lips closing around your clit. the pleasure immediate as the tip of his tongue flicks over your clit and your little tiny hole begging for release. 

“you stop when i slap your thigh.”

“yes, oppa. i stop when oppa hits me.” you nod. 

“like this.” he slaps harshly on your flesh. you nod again this time your head bobbing resting against your arms. waiting for him to latch onto you again, hot breath closing in on you. his hand pushes your legs back pushing them against your tummy.

whining as you relax into his tongue softly flicking ready to drink you. you don’t know you’ve started until he moans against you. hot piss filling his mouth as his tongue flicks over your hole sucking every spurt from you. 

“oh god,” you whine, head lolling back as he sucks all of you up. it feels so good so relaxed, the flick of his tongue on your clit pulls you closer to a different release but the hand slapping your thigh pulls you back.

focusing as you tighten your muscles again stopping the flow from filling his mouth. he swallows it all, not a drop spilling into the water below, tongue collecting every drip from you. 

“such a good listener,” he says, pulling away from where you want him most. 

“now let’s decorate you.” he grabs a marker that’s seen all of you inside and out. only your oppa gets to use the pink marker. his friends have to use plain black.

he uncaps it, eyes grazing your body, deciding on his artwork. leaning in he draws a heart around your pussy the marker dragging softly on your skin. smiling at his handy work before moving his hand drawing a heart under your left breast filling it in with the pink ink.

you wonder what he’s going to write as he pulls the skin of your thigh taut. marker sliding across your flesh you think hard at the touches of the felt tip. it’s only four letters and he moves to the other thigh writing six more. you look down trying to reverse the image in your mind. 

“you’re thinking too hard again. c - o - c - k -space- s - l - e - e - v - e.” he spells it out for you. he grins as you sound it out. “one more.” he leans back in, hand dragging over your coarse bush. writing stacked letters right above the hair. 

F - R - E - E

   U - S - E

he leans back admiring his designs, capping the marker tossing it on the counter. before pulling his shorts up the same way you did earlier, hard cock exposed. your mouth waters for the second time. 

“you know you can’t go again until everyone is done. need you to be my good piss pup and hold it okay?” you nod as his cock pushes against your sticky hole. the tip filling you easily, before sliding into your heat. 

“oppa,” you moan as he bottoms out. you really are still so tight he just wants to tease you, he’d need to have you ran through so many more times. the thought of his girl, moldable to his cock getting fucked and filled with every dick he could find made him go harder. gripping the rope over your head he uses it as leverage thrusting into you fast and hard.

you know he won’t let you cum. fingers ignore your clit only tightening around the rope as you swing into him. harsh thrusts hit your cervix making him moan watching your connection, the sticky slick gathering on his thighs. 

“just a little hole for me,” he groans, speeding up just trying to cum not caring about your orgasm. just using you like a toy.

“wonder how loose your sloppy cunt’s gonna be after you get ran through.” you moan, squeezing around him the thoughts filling your airhead. you clench your fist focusing on tensing your muscles to keep your piss and orgasm away, it works for a little bit. 

“getting too sloppy baby,” he slaps your tit, bells jingling loudly. tugging on the chain, your nipples already sore and squished. but he’s so close and the look on your face is priceless. mouth hanging open eyes glassy and dumb. just a dumb little toy. 

“fuck,” he groans pulling out and squeezing his cock before pushing forcefully into your ass. you cry as the flared tip fills you up without warning. jerking his cock with a loud groan filling you with his cum. 

“take it like a good little cum dumb,” he fucks his hot seed into you. moaning at the stretch as he pulls out his hand reaching for the plug and quickly shoving it past your rim. you groan at the sting his hot seed locked into you. 

“keep that warm for me,” he thrums his fingers over the base, making it vibrate. he pulls away, letting his shorts cover his softening cock. your pussy is already swollen and drooling onto the base of the plug, a site for horny eyes. 

“gonna be good for our guests?” he asks, petting your face softly. leaning into his touch you mewl, cheek mushing into his palm. “if you get too loud.” he holds up your gag and you nod again. you’re always too loud, but he says the neighbors like it. you wonder if they’ve ever come over. 

he pulls away, dropping the gag onto the counter before turning around. setting up his camera, the tripods and cameras stay in the bathroom, angle already perfected to get all of your holes.

you sit watching admiring his practiced fingers clicking and connecting things you don’t even understand. you think he lets it stream on the tv but you aren’t really sure where else it goes. 

before he leaves on Thursday he plays them back for you so you can see. he whispers in your ear while he touches you. you can already feel yourself melting into his touch hands molding to your skin as he shows you how good you were. 

“already so dumb and we haven’t even started,” his hand on your chin pulls you from your dreamy state. whimpering as he looks you over one last time. a knock on the door draws his hand from you and makes your tummy flip, eyes wide and ready for whatever is going to happen. 

“right on time. now be good and don’t you piss. i’ll stop it all.” you almost beg him not to but he’s already leaving shutting the door behind him. leaving you all alone with your head spinning and voices through the wall.

you always wonder what they do, hyuck and his friends on the other side of the closed door. you wish they’d open the door but the element of surprise feels too good. do they watch tv, eat the snacks you prepared, maybe even play a game. 

you hear laughter and voices, but you can’t pick anything out specifically and you groan curiosity pounding in your head. you sit up as straight as you can when the handle jiggles but then it stops. they love doing this watching you get all excited but pulling away. it’s like when hyuck edges you for hours and hours and makes you cry. 

the door swings open and you stare up. it’s jaemin. oh you love jaemin so much. he grins at you sweetly as he shuts the door. 

“hi pretty girl,” he walks to you, his bulky frame standing over you. “look at you all spread out aren’t you?” you nod at him trying to sit up but the wiggling makes things tighter. right hyuck said that earlier. 

“has your oppa already stretched you princess?”

“unhuh, but you’re so big,” you whimper. remembering the first time jaemin shoved his cock in you. so thick so heavy and you felt like crying. hyuck laughed at you watching the way your cunt could barely take it. jaemin made your belly bulge now you felt sweaty the thought of leaking because of his cock. 

“am i?” he cocks his head at you squeezing your cheeks making your mouth open. you let your tongue hang out knowing he would spit down your throat.

“pretty little pigtails today.” he reaches for them, tugging your head back. you whine your neck pressed awkwardly against the rope behind you. 

“mmm i think i like this position.” he releases your hair dragging a hand lower tugging on the chain connecting your nipples making you whine. 

“want to be open for you.” you whimper as his hand creeps lower tracing the words hyuck had written. 

“is this true, free use?” he questions condescending tone spilling with every word and you love it. 

“unhuh. just a hole. want to make you happy, make you feel good.” you babble. 

“your oppa still making you grow your hair?” you nod in response. “still shaved here though,” his fingers spread, making a v shape trailing over the heart shape. jaemin loves teasing you making you beg for him to fuck you. 

“aww and you're all plugged up, what are you keeping in there,” he tugs at the slick covered base making you keen the stretch of your sore rim around the toy. 

“cum. oppa, his cum,” you babble spit starting to pool in your mouth and spill over your lips. 

“what a good oppa, but you won’t get pregnant back there baby,” he slaps the base of the toy. jaemin loves breeding too. likes telling you about how he’s going to fill you with babies. hyuck said you couldn’t have babies though. which was good because you were too stupid and irresponsible. 

“will you get me pregnant?” you ask innocently. 

“but you’re my friend's toy.” he groans, shoving a finger in your slippery hole. “can’t do that to your oppa.” he says, adding a second beside the first. you whimper watching his wrist flick and fill you. 

“won’t tell him,” you whine as his thumb pushes against your clit. still sensitive from hyuck sucking the piss from you. 

“oh he will notice. big round belly,” he rubs over your filled tummy bladder already swelling again. “you’d look so swollen even more than when you have my cock in you or when you're full of piss.” you moan at his words, the thought filling your stupid head. his hand pushes a little and you jolt tightening the ropes again. 

“awww are you all full now?” blinking up at you with that smirk that makes you want to do anything for him. you nod whining when he pushes again. 

“can’t. trouble.” 

“oh we don’t want that, do we?” his fingers continue curling into your sweet spot before he adds a third. you shake your head against the rope pigtails whipping your face. 

“hmmm i’ll have to be careful then won’t i?” 

“more,” your spit bubbles when you say it. he obliges adding a fourth finger but you want him, his dick filling your greedy cunt. 

“cock.” more spit spills and he grins at you. dumb and stupid and begging for him. 

“why didn’t you just say,” pulling his fingers out, wiping them on your thigh. he unzips his jeans and your cunt dribbles with slick, a thick drop hitting the water with a plop. pulling his cock out, too big and heavy it hangs between his legs. he holds the base shaking it in his fist. 

“which do you want first, princess?” your mind races decided between his hot cum or hot piss like a menu. 

“cum want cum. want it in my hole. so empty now,” you whimper. he grins at you watching you try to wiggle closer but groaning when it pulls your legs tighter. 

he moves closer closing the gap thumb pushing on your clit as he pushes roughly into you. groaning softly while you’re crying out at the stretch. stinging as he settles inside you. 

“so fucking tight. you know my little toy at home isn’t as tight as you are? i think i’ve ruined her holes now, she’s all loose,” you whimper. thinking of jaemin’s girlfriend, you call her Friday, that’s her special day. you wonder what her cunt looks like is it stretched from all his poundings. 

squeezing around him as he starts to slide in and out. such a pretty girl probably hiding a stretched hole under her panties just like you. 

pushing into you hitting your bladder and sweet spot with every thrust making you dizzy with pleasure. he lingers deep inside you knowing the nudge of his cock against your full tummy is pushing you over the edge. 

“bet you’re so full huh? holding all day for us,” he groans when you clench at his words, thumb circling your clit slowly. 

“so full,” you whine, eyes lazy as he rocks into you. he peaks at the shelf beside you deciding what special treat you might get. you don’t see what he grabs but you hear it the familiar buzz filling the sticky room. hips bucking when he presses the vibrating egg to you clit. jaemin loves this toy, loves the way you squeeze around him when the buzzing starts and stops. 

“wonder if i could fit this in here,” he pulls out long strings connecting you. he shoves the egg deep inside of you whimpering as the buzzing fills your walls. he thrusts into you before you can even collect yourself the egg hitting your cervix. 

“unnnnn,” you groan out the tip of his cock pushing the toy deeper and deeper, vibrating his member in you. 

“fuck, now you’re like a real toy. charged up and buzzing around my cock,” he groans, grabbing the rope on your thighs pulling you to him. you whimper more and more slick puddling out of you making lewd squelches fill the room. the sound alone could make you cum. 

reaching under his cock he tugs the string of the egg pulling and pulling making it squeeze beneath his dick. your walls stretch as he tries to pull it out without removing his cock. the stretch and buzz sending shockwaves through you. he groans when the egg shimmies under the base of his length and he jolts into you. you feel your mind going mushy only thinking of dick dick dick. heavy cocks filling you making you feel so good. 

“awww are you getting stupid?” he coos moving  a hand from the rope to tug at your lips spit dripping onto your chest. you try nod but aren’t sure if you did the only feeling being the fill of his cock inside you. 

“gonna take my cum baby? gonna make a baby with it?” he groans, getting sloppier. you whimper wanting to fill up with his seed growing your belly for him. 

“gonna fuck a baby in your little cunnie make you a little breeding bitch.” he moans as you squeeze around him the words filling you even more than his member. he pulls the egg out letting it rattle on the floor using both hands to push on your tummy hard and fast thrusts. 

“no no,” you moan, swollen bladder trying and then leaking. 

“i won’t tell baby,” he moans hot dribbles coating his cock before you can stop. you cry thinking of hyuck coming in and pulling jaemin off of you as you piss and piss without any relief. you tighten hard and fast stopping the stream but breaking jaemin his load shooting deep and hot inside of you. 

“shit baby,” he groans, pushing his seed deeper. “gonna make you a dumb little mommy.” his thrusts slow but he keeps filling you with his load seeming to never end. your bladder is still full but you can relax a little when his hands no longer press against you. whimpering sadly when he pulls out his cock almost white from all the cum. 

you let your tongue hang out hoping he will give you a taste of something. he circles his fingers around his cock gathering all the slick before putting his hand to your mouth. lapping quickly collecting all of your mixed juices savoring the taste. he leans down spreading your cunt watching the cum try to spill out but he doesn’t let it. grabbing a different plug, a clear one to stuff inside of you, keeping you full. 

“gonna let me give you a shower?” you nod stupidly, mouth still hanging open waiting for his treat. he bends his knees letting his sticky cock lay on your tummy right over the words hyuck had written. the size is shocking, wondering how you can fit all of that inside of you. the tip practically reaching your ribs. 

“tell me you want it.”

“piss please. what your juice please, daddy. want it.” he grits his teeth at your words letting hot liquid spread over your belly. you whimper watching the stream grow and puddle in your belly button.

“so warm.” you whine as the liquid starts to drip below you. it makes you sad the thought of losing all his precious piss to the toilet water. what a shame. 

“you’re so disgusting.” he moves his hips rubbing his leaking cock against you. “little piss slut. love being a nasty bitch.” you moan clenching around your plugs. his stream slows trickling down your sides and into the water before he stops.

standing up he grabs his heavy member standing over you he brings it to your lips. moaning around him the bitter piss and his salty cum filling your mouth. whimpering, he spurts one final time down your throat before pulling away. watching him with a satisfied brain dead look. 

“fucking gross girl,” he coos twirling your pigtail. he grabs the rattling egg turning it off quickly. you smile at him stupidly as he reaches for the black marker from the counter exchanging it with the egg. he uncaps it tapping the tip on his chin as he decides what to write. hand hovering over your collarbones as he writes in pretty swirly letters. pulling away he admires his work before doodling beside hyuck’s lettering. drawing a crude dick, tip towards your cunt with small drops spilling on you. 

“i think that suits you.” he tosses the marker the same way hyuck did before tucking himself back into his pants. 

“daddy,” you whimper. 

“be good for the others they’ve been waiting all week for you.” he grins, slapping your cunt. your eyes squeeze and when you open them you're alone again. 

whining you kick your feet, ankles dangling as you look in the camera. hoping someone notices your need, your emptiness, your want. the door pushes opened and you hear laughing as jisung gets shoved inside. oh sweet jisung, just a precious boy. he’s so soft with you like you’re fragile. 

his head is down as he shakes his hair out of his face awkwardly shuffling over to you. 

“hi,” you look up at him. 

“uh hey,” he mumbles, looking you over. it’s always awkward at the start with ji, taking a bit to warm him up. or really him to warm up to the idea of what he’s partaking in. 

“missed you,” you pout. it had been awhile since you’d seen him maybe a month or more you weren’t sure all the days ran together. 

“really?” he perks up. 

“unhuh, where did you go away to?” you whimper. his hand slides over your ankle fingers tracing the rope. 

“was busy, was working you know,” he mutters, hand going higher up your thigh making you tingle. 

“oh okay,” you ignore the fact that he doesn’t have a real job. 

“you look so pretty today,” making you grin. “little pigtails and makeup.” he rubs your face, thumbing the smudged mascara on your cheeks. 

“oppa even decorated me,” you smile looking down at your still wet tummy, letters smudged. 

“i see, and who wrote this?” his fingers trail the cursive jaemin had added. 

“jaemin. what does it say?” 

“piss slut,” he’s so casual about it. “your oppa told me he was growing your hair out. sent me some pictures.” you whimper at the thought of jisung’s phone full of photos of your hairy pussy. 

“did you like it?” you hiccup. 

“thought about how pretty it would look when i cover it in cum,” he says, making you whine. ideas of him jerking off onto your sloppy cunt. his fingers twist the sticky hair pulling and tugging harshly. 

jisung didn’t usually fuck you, usually he’d come in with a cock hard and red and rub over your clit until he came. you didn’t mind you were a toy for his pleasure after all. 

“mmm look at you,” he gets on his knees peaking into your cunt trying to get a glimpse of the white liquid inside of you. “maybe i should add some to you?” you can see gears moving in his head as he contemplates. taking time to dance a finger over your clit as he thinks.

he stands quickly shuffling his pants down and pulling his cock out. jisung and jaemin are around the same length but jisung is skinnier just like their bodies. he leans against you rubbing his cock over your clit pushing into your hair. you moan at the drag of his length over your swollen bud. pulling away he reaches down pulling the plug out quickly shoving himself in to replace your emptiness. 

“fuck,” he groans hot cum surrounding his cock. he doesn’t know what to do with the plug so he just looks at you before shoving it in your mouth. you moan at the stretch of your lips. jaemin’s cum sliding on your tongue.

he hisses as he thrusts into you, cum forming a ring around his cock with each move of his hips. he won’t last long you think, he never does. that doesn’t stop you from savoring the drag of his cock the head bumping your cervix again. your walls pulsing around him squishing cum over his length. 

you can’t speak only moan around the plastic in your mouth the taste of jaemin wearing off as it slides down your throat. jisung grabs at your thighs using the rope to pull you against him, meeting his quick thrusts. 

groaning as his pelvis smacks against your clit and his balls heavy and sticky as they meet your ass. you can feel him getting sloppier almost ready to cum, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“gonna fucking.” he hisses looking at your begging eyes. he yanks the plug from your mouth and spit bubbles out as you whine. his shaky hand moves the plug ready to shove back in so you can keep all the goodies. 

“shit,” he whines shooting hot into you, shakily pulling out of you and shoving the toy haphazardly into your abused cunt. he continues jerking himself letting the rest of his cum spill onto your pussy, painting your bush like he wanted. you can’t help but ogle at the way his cum continues spilling in slow streaks over you. 

“fucking hot,” he mumbles rubbing his cock against your coarse hair. he’s still hard, rock solid against your pelvis. he shakes his head standing back up trying to fix his cock in his jeans. but the bulge is so prominent he just leaves them unzipped bulging in his underwear. you want him to fuck you some more until his cock is dry and spent. you want him to feel good. 

he looks around the counter trying to find the marker jaemin had thrown earlier. he lifts it like a prize before looking back to you. he already knows what he wants to write so he doesn’t hesitate. uncapping the pen with a shaky hand pressing to your tummy. with small letters he writes cumdump right on your thigh he adds a heart and arrow pointing to your hole. he stands up awkwardly rubbing his hands together laying the marker on the counter. 

“thanks,” he says, rubbing his neck as he turns to leave.

when he opens the door, jeno's already waiting like a line forming at a stadium for the bathrooms. jeno looks at jisung and eyes the bulge in his pants. 

“is she too loose for your little cock?” he teases flicking jisung’s cock. jisung whines holding a hand over himself as he tries to sneak past jeno. you see eyes peering around his shoulders watching you. your heart grows all the affection for you and what you’re good at. jeno enters slamming the door behind him.  

“hi puppy,” he his voice instantly softer, his sweet grin filling his face. jeno is so lovely. attentive and affectionate, soft and kind, but also so hard and thick and strong. 

“papa,” you draw, maybe even dribble a little over your plug like a dumb puppy seeing its favorite person. 

“miss me baby? not even been a week.” he smiles down at you petting your head sweetly. jeno was over just yesterday, was it yesterday you aren’t sure. he’d held you on the couch so your oppa could inspect your cunt. soft big hands on your thighs while hyuck fingered at your opening. peering in and taking close up pictures of your walls. using a special camera so you could see your cunnie on the tv. 

your papa held you and praised you over and over making your feel soft while your gummy walls were explored. then he’d lifted you, shoving his cock into you while your oppa watched and rubbed himself. the camera was long discarded as he watched hot breath and fast on your cunt. 

you liked when your oppa and papa made you pretty together. your papa, soft and sweet and your oppa, mean and rough. papa filled you up so much. you still felt the ache in your thighs. 

“just like you so much,” you admit. 

“aren’t you so sweet? do you think about me when i’m away?” you nod shyly face warming. you really do, even when hyuck’s inside of you. maybe even earlier when you fucked yourself open for him. thinking of pressing your face into jeno’s balls while he held your head and praised you for doing as you were told. 

“what do you think about?” you felt shy even though you had told him before. even told hyuck and hyuck shared the same affections you felt.

inviting jeno over for dinner or a movie or your special time. having jeno come watch you when hyuck had to leave. watching his pet when he couldn’t. making sure you got fucked and played with so you didn’t get bored. hyuck didn’t want your cunt to rest, he said if you didn’t cum enough your brain would start working too much. he didn’t want your head to hurt, he loved you so much. 

“just you know,” he caressed your cheek, thumb collecting spit and putting it in your mouth. 

“tell me, puppy.” jeno got to call you your special nickname too. hyuck told you it was reserved for him and papa only.  

“unnnn,” you whine when his finger circles your clit. “you, and mmm. think about papa, ma-making me pretty,” you whimper. he watches you, warm eyes staring into you. only hyuck could make you pretty, but jeno was so special. hyuck teased you about it, made you tell him all about it while he played with you. hyuck even let you call jeno papa or oppa. everyone else was daddy or mister or something like that. but jeno was, your papa. 

“want your papa to make you pretty?” you nod your head filling with mush all over again. making you pretty was when hyuck fucked you stupid. made you empty headed and dumb for him. a drooly, pissy, toy he played with. 

“has your oppa even made you cum?” he tilts a head circling his finger faster over your clit. you shake your head, eyes squeezing together, release drawing closer. relaxing your muscles to his touch. 

“so mean,” he turns, looking into the camera. “how about your papa makes you cum? does that sound good?” you nod no words able to form. 

“papa will even let you dribble a little. i know you’ve been such a good pup, holding all day. having all your glasses. your oppa even told me you had extra.” you nod his praise filling up your tummy. his fingers rub faster and you feel the relief so close to you like you can taste it or touch it. 

“you can let go. just a little bit for papa, cum for me puppy.” you moan head lolling back as you cum, hot spurts of piss spilling. “good puppy get it all out.” he rubs his fingers, spraying your piss everywhere, opening his mouth to collect what he can the rest staining his shirt or landing in the water.  

“stop,” he instructs but his fingers still attack your sensitive clit. tightening again you stop the stream a little dribble spilling out over the plug. leaning his head in he collects the leftovers and what cum is on your cunt. standing up he squeezes your mouth open, spitting the fluid into your mouth hot on your tongue. 

you can’t help but moan at the taste. his fingers slow as you swallow before patting your clit. 

“that feels better right?” you nod lazily trying to spread your legs wider for him. “look at all your pretty words.” his fingers trace the messages left on you. you wish he had a special marker just for him. maybe purple or blue. 

“piss slut,” he reads, hand racking down your chest. drawing a heart with his finger over the heart on you. “free use.” his hand pushes on your tummy still full and needy. he grins as he moves lower. “cumdump. is that true?” you nod. “hmmm,” he investigates, tugging your flesh to see the words. “cocksleeve,” he whispers, thumbs brushing your inner thighs. 

“you’ve been doing so good,” he says, spreading your cunt watching it swallow around the plug. 

“been watching you get played with,” he continues pulling at your thighs to spread you. “such a good toy. makes papa hard watching his pup get filled up.”

“papa,” you whimper, eyes watering. 

“papa will fill you up too, don't worry puppy. i know your little cunnie is needy and needs more doesn’t it?” stupidly bobbing your head. your papa is right you do have a needy cunnie that needs more wants more. 

“papa can i taste you,” he tilts his head up pausing his inspection of your swollen cunt. 

“sweet little piss pup,” he coos standing over you pushing your legs back farther with his own. 

he unbuckles his belt pulling the leather from the loops. brushing your pigtails away and moving your head so he can wrap the belt around your spit covered neck. he tightens it to the special loop he made just for you. his hands are soft and sweet as he brushes your skin and tightens the leather making your throat squeeze. 

he unbuttons his slacks pulling his chubby cock out. jeno is shorter than jisung and jaemin but he’s so thick. cock fat and heavy. you liked to think of him when hyuck put a soda can in you. the stretch similar to him but not as warm and heavy, only when hyuck would fill it with his pee did it get a little warm or heavy. 

he pulled the waistband lower, letting his balls hang heavy under him. he knew you loved them. loves the slap on your chin as he fucked your face lips aching at the stretch.  

you whined mouth watering as he held himself leaning into you one hand on the wall as his cock found your lips. 

“want it all in here puppy?” his tip prodded your lips. 

“wanna drink it all. wan it in my tummy.” you whimpered tongue sliding over the tip. 

“don’t spill any puppy,” he pushes into your waiting mouth. and you try to swallow around him, lips already stretched with just the head. 

“let’s fill up that tummy,” he pats at your bulging belly. moaning when you begin to taste him. your cheeks puffing up as he empties into them. he releases the hand from his cock letting you do the work. lewdly slurping and swallowing in quick succession, bitter yellow pouring down your throat so fast you can barely taste every drop. 

“good pup,” he whispers, holding your pigtails pulling you somehow closer. moaning when your lips stretch around him. he pokes your cheek watching you hurry and swallow so none spills out. his legs pressed into your harder making your muscles ache the stretch more than you were used to. 

maybe your oppa was right to stretch you more. he said good toys were flexible so you had to do your classes, bending over, touching your toes, he wanted to work you until you could get your legs behind your head.

you gulp and swallow and gulp some more drinking him in.

“you’re gonna suck me dry, puppy,” he coos as the stream slows taking your final swallows, already missing the fill of your cheeks. you keep him in your mouth, tongue flicking the tip of his cock tasting the last little drops.

you keep swirling your tongue around him trying your best to keep his heavy cock in your mouth. he groans almost growling, tugging both of your pigtails to force his cock deeper. moaning around him at the stretch. shoving himself deeper but you can barely take half of. you swear you’d been practicing, hyuck even got a big toy just for your mouth. 

“tiny little mouth,” he mumbles a thumb trying to pull at your stretched lips. you feel tears welling as he pushes deeper and deeper. your teeth slightly dragging over his length, jaw not going wider. he thrusts into your mouth gagging you and the tears spring. 

“aww is it too much pup?” thumbing at your wet eyes, mascara smearing more. you want to shake your head beg him to fuck your throat until it can take his length with ease. he pulls out spit spilling and covering his cock. bubbles spilling onto your chest. 

“let’s see,” he holds your chin tugging your lips open peeking down your throat. “doing so good for papa.”

he steps away, your legs falling slightly. you miss him already. the warmth of him pressing to you. 

“want you,” you whimper opening your fist but you can’t reach out for him. 

“you have me,” he whispers, rubbing your face again. he grabs your hand lacing your fingers together, making you melt. 

“no papa,” you search for the words. “want you down there.”

“hmmm where?” he teases. hand roaming down. “here?” touching your chin you shake your head. “maybe here?” he drags his hand lower, squeezing your breast. you shake your head again pouting. 

“what am i missing?” he questions, grabbing the belt and tugging. 

“papa, down there,” you stare up at him. 

“here?” fingers dancing over the plug still stopping up hyuck’s cum in you. 

“nuhh, my pussy, my cunt, my hole, cunnie. in me. want you,” you crack huffing at him. he just smiles softly. 

“oh why didn’t you just say that puppy? you want me here?” tapping against the clear silicone stuffed inside of you. you nod eagerly. 

“did they get you all stretched for papa?”

“unhuh can take you, been practicing so good,” you whimper. 

“how do you practice?” biting your lip thinking to your practice. 

“oppa makes me- he got me a big big big toy. oppa makes me sit on it while he plays games.” you babble. “makes me dribble cause it pushes on me inside.” you sound stupid only thinking about his cock filling you up.

your tummy felt hot when hyuck made you sit on the toy. he told you it was your pretend papa for when you needed to practice. sitting you on the floor in front of his chair while he played his games and talked to his friends, you buried the toy deep inside of your cunnie, belly bulging as you grinned against it. small puddle forming under you, piss and drool spilling from your holes. 

your oppa would pick on you, call you stupid pissy puppy but it made your brain heavy face shoved in his crotch smelling his piss soaked shorts. his foot rubbed against you using his toes to push against your tummy making you spill and spill more gripping yourself to stop the flow but it just soaked into the carpet. it was just another wet spot littering the space beneath his desk. 

“poor piddly puppy.” he pouts tugging at the plug keeping the mixed cum inside of you. “papa, needs to get you some puppy pads for all those dribbles.” 

“please,” you whine, he tugs the toy out slowly before pushing it back in. cum squishing around the base. 

“remember no more leaking, pup. papa’s gonna push your insides too but you can’t make a mess okay.” you nod as he holds his cock tugging the toy out using his tip to collect any spills before pushing into you. you’re always prepared for the stretch but it shocks you again. hot and heavy as he slides in cum sloshing in you. 

thick so thick and big and so heavy and full

“still such a tight little pussy,” he groans. fat cock filling you up fucking used cum deeper into you. 

“papa’s so,” you babble as he thrusts into you. 

“dumb puppy,” tugging your pigtail again. thrusting slow and deep, making you keen. thankful he let you dribble earlier but the push of him against your bladder makes your eyes shake. 

“full,” you mumble spit dripping from your swollen lips. 

“what’s that pup?” he groans, pushing into your sticky walls. 

“full, puppy so full papa,” babbling as his thrusts speed up. he tugs at the belt wrapping it around his wrist using it to pull your cunt to him. slamming heavy balls against the plug in your ass. your brain is broken just jeno and his cock and the fullness of your whole body. cunt, ass, bladder, all filled to the brim. 

“look pup,” you open your eyes blinking up at him following the direction of his eyes. your tummy bulging with each deep thrust. 

“little bladder bulging while papa fucks you. i’d fuck the piss out of you pup but your oppa would kill me,” he groans. jeno had a tendency to fuck the piss out of you. remembering the first time you finally took him all embarrassed when you started spilling over his tummy. but he just fucked you harder grinning as hyuck watched you. 

“wanna go on your cock,” whimpering, wishing hyuck would open the door telling you to let go. 

“i know, puppy. papa wants your little pissy cunt to let go.” he spreads your pussy, fingers rubbing your clit again. “bet you're already full again with papa’s piss.” you whine feeling the liquid slosh inside of you. 

“hold it for papa,” he fucks you harder belt tugging on the belt around your throat as he pulls you into him. “can’t even make puppy cum or you’ll make a mess.” he pouts but doesn’t stop rubbing your clit bringing you closer. 

“papa, ‘s gonna.” his fingers dragging you to release before he pulls away so you don’t make a mess. you groan pussy fluttering, but he just smiles back at you. 

“papa’s gonna fill up his puppy’s cunnie,” he moans as you clench again, tightening the hold on your piss. 

“want papa’s cum. want papa to make me have babies,” you whimper. he lets go of the belt lacing your fingers again making you purr brain melting at the affection.  

“want to be even more swollen, puppy? gonna have little pups for papa,” you moan loudly at the words. 

“want papa to stretch my tummy,” you beg, holding his hand tighter. 

“fuck, nasty puppy,” he moans sloppily fucking into you. “gonna take all papa can give you?”

“want papa,” he groans, thrusting a deeply hot seed filling your sloppy cunt. 

“nasty pup wanting papa’s babies,” he groans, slowing but still unloading cum into you. 

“just want all of papa,” you babble. he rubs a thumb over your hand before releasing it reaching for the slimy plug on the counter. he pulls out slowly before roughly shoving the toy back into you. patting the base before pulling away. his cock is still so heavy hanging over his balls. 

“so you want all of me?” you nod you really do. wishing he stayed beside you in the bed sandwiched between him and your oppa. sitting in his lap while your oppa played games so you weren’t so lonely at least your hand made good company for now. jealous thoughts crept in sometimes wondering if he had a toy. you wanted to be his only toy. 

“such a good pup for papa. so good,” the praise melted into you like hot lava. his hand held your face sweetly as you nuzzled closer.

“now pup,” he gets eye level to talk to you. “papa’s gonna go, but papa’s gonna be here when you get done okay. papa’s gonna watch you, not much longer now and you can get all that piss out.” you nod into his warm palm, his other hand soothes your belly. so soft and safe and strong. 

“miss you pa,” you mutter, he reaches up, unclasping his belt, sliding it from around your neck easily. 

“i know puppy, i’ll miss you. but i’ll be so close.” throwing a thumb in the direction of the door. “be a good puppy and get all filled up okay.”

he pulls away, but grabs the marker. you watch as his hands soothe over your skin soft and tender. he starts with little hearts drawing sweet and pretty designs over you. 

“hmmm,” he looks you over, deciding. the marker goes to your inner thigh writing ‘papa’s’ then switching to the right thigh and writing ‘puppy’. it makes you hot and warm and mushy in your head. 

“papa’s good puppy, aren't you?”

“papa’s puppy,” you agree. he leans over you kissing your lips softly. 

“i’ll miss you,” he pulls away, lingering before opening the door and slipping away. 

you pout to yourself already missing his warmth the room growing cold now. the need to go comes in waves as you wait, muscles sore and tired from being bent and folded up. you want more though. head empty save for thoughts of cocks filling you molding your holes to their shape. if you weren’t plugged up you’d be dripping. thoughts of heavy cocks filling you soothes the ache in your muscles. 

“oppa,” you call looking into the camera beside your head. “more.” you stare lazily into the lens pleading eyes, listening for anything but you just hear voices not able to make out words. 

the door swings open and mark stands before you. you feel giddy. something about mark made you feel sneakier and dirtier. he was in seminary, studying the word and praying before participating in these activities. the idea of his school finding out about this made you tingle. 

“fuck,” he groans looking you over. “you think you have some room for more?” 

“always have room for mark,” you grin at him. 

“i don’t have much time.” your face shifts into a pout at his words. 

“gotta go to mass,” he coughs. your tummy flips, he’s come to fuck you before going to confess all of his sins. does he tell his priest about you?

“you don’t have to just, maybe, just.” you pause trying to come up with an idea. he’s pulling his cock out hard and pleading for something. “use my mouth.”

“jen stretched you good huh?” he leaned closer pushing his legs against you the same way your papa had. he’s leaner legs not as hot against your skin. thumbing over your swollen lips dragging them open. 

“want cock,” you parrot like a little robot. he laughs at you coming closer, hands on the wall leaning over you, the tip pushing into your mouth. 

“fuck,” he hisses as you take him swallowing easily around his length. jeno’s length but not the same meaty thickness. a nice good size especially for your little mouth. he thrusts into your hole spit spilling from your lips when he pulls back. you moan as he hits your throat holding back a gag as he continues. you need to make him feel good, make him cum. 

“shit, just like that,” he moans into his palm, grinding into you his pelvis hitting your nose with ease. he doesn’t move keeping his cock deep in your mouth and you start to choke around him. he pulls out sloppily, spit spilling over his cock before you can even catch your breath he’s pushing in again. lips stretching around him as he drags slow and steady inside you. 

“gonna make me cum,” he whines, thrusts fast and sloppy into your throat. he slips out pulling away jerking at his cock, a finger tickling at his own nipple over his shirt. 

“holy fuck.” he groans thrusting into his fist. you eagerly watch the slide of his hand over his spit covered cock so delicious. 

“cum on me mark. want it all over me please,” you whine. you wish you could do the work, hold his cock in your hands and have him spill over your fingers. the door swings open, slamming it behind him. 

“fuck,” mark whines so close. watching intently as hyuck grins at you from behind mark his fingers sneaking around to pinch marks nipples. 

“what the- shitt,” he moans, white cum spurting onto your tits catching on the chain. you watch as your boyfriend teases mark’s nipples and somehow you grow wetter. hyuck whispers in mark’s ear. 

“filthy piss baby,” he hisses, cum painting your tummy and chest a pretty little mess. you whine tongue hanging out hoping to catch a measly drop.

“dude what the fuck,” he tries to turn to hyuck but he grabs him pushing mark back against your legs. 

“awww hyung, i thought you liked it.” hyuck says, grabbing mark’s cock making him hiss. 

“bro what the fuck,” he tries squirming away but hyuck holds his cock tight flattening his other hand rubbing his palm over the tip fast and hard. mark whines melting into hyuck. you’ve watch this game they’ve played many times. mark trying to push hyuck away but eventually caving from the pleasure. 

the scene in front of you makes you want to touch yourself. hyuck swirling mark’s cock in hot circles making the older boy cry into his hand. 

“she wanted you to make a mess, hyung. so you better fucking make a mess,” hyuck growls, he’s practically humping mark. mark's tummy is tensing and he lets out a loud whimper as clear liquid pulses out of his cock spilling onto your tummy. 

“oh my god,” you whine watching it cover you in messy spurts. hyuck slows his hand before tugging on mark’s cock making him wince. 

“good boy,” he pats his back, releasing his hold on him. 

“you’re such a freak,” he turns, pushing hyuck away. 

“you still didn’t do everything she asked.” hyuck pushes mark back to you forcing him to face you again. “c’mon you can do it. i told you what would happen if you didn’t.”

hyuck grabs mark’s cock again, aiming it at you. your mind only thinking about what hyuck would do if mark didn’t do what he said. it makes you clench your filled pussy. 

“look she’s waiting,” hyuck said, shaking mark’s cock. hot stream hitting your tummy before you even realize mark’s pissing. moaning as it hits your tits with hyuck’s help. 

“what do u say to her?” mark whines. 

“little piss bitch. you like it when you get covered in my piss,” he whimpers. your mouth still hanging open and hyuck aims to hit your tongue and you swallow greedily letting it spill over your lips. 

“can’t deny that little face,” hyuck coos watching you lick your lips. 

mark stares at you eyes wide while hyuck holds his cock piss slowing to a dribble then stopping. hyuck shakes mark’s cock the last drops hitting your cunt sliding down over the base of your toy. 

“now,” hyuck pauses, tucking mark back into his jeans. “go repent.” he pats mark’s ass and mark’s face burns as he quickly leaves. the door stays open while hyuck stands in front of you. 

“aren’t you so pretty,” he coos, rubbing your sticky cheek. “room for one more?” you nod staring up at him, failing to notice the group forming at the doorway. 

“didn’t even have to gag you. i think all those cocks in your mouth helped.” he pulls his hard cock from his shorts lowering the elastic until his balls hang. 

“unhuh,” you agree, mind spilling out of your ears as you watch him come closer. 

“been stretched so much i think you’ll take me good.” he tugs the plug from your ass making you cry as his cum spills out onto his cock. you whine clenching, missing the fullness but he doesn’t make you wait, shoving into you quickly. you hiss at the stretch, his cock pushing past your tight rim with practiced ease.  

“oppa,” you whimper, cum squelching inside of you as he fills you up. it squeezes out of your tight hole, spilling out of you around his cock. 

“took so much cum so well,” he moans, he tugs at the plug stretching your cunt, squishing cum around the silicone. “fuck so slippery.” 

you can’t pull your eyes from where he enters you cum covering his cock, sticking to his legs as he slams into you. 

jisung peers from the doorway and you see them, jaemin, jeno, and jisung watching as hyuck pounds his own cum from your hole. whining when you make eye contact clenching tightly around hyuck. 

“so gross, you want them to watch?” he motions them closer and they pile in heads all down watching the way you swallow hyuck’s cock. 

“such a greedy slut,” jaemin moans, his fist jerking over his cock. 

“love being a little toy for us to use,” hyuck says, slamming into you. 

“takes it so well doesn’t she?” jeno says with his heavy cock in his hands. 

“so disgusting,” jisung adds, rubbing his fingers over the tip of his cock. they encircle you, surround you with dick just like you like. 

“gotta go,” the pressure on your bladder is too much as hyuck hits it hard with each trust. 

“aww gonna piss? “ jaemin perks, you nod your eyes fluttering trying to hold back but it’s harder and harder. 

“gonna piss on your oppa’s cock?” hyuck groans. 

“is gonna,” you whine squeezing around your oppa. “please.”

“mmm i dunno.” you whimper at him as jaemin’s hand pushes down on your tummy, his evil smile right in your face. 

“what do you think?” looking over to jeno. he leans down closer to you, his thumb pushing on your clit, rubbing at the bud. 

“she’s been such a good puppy, she needs to make a mess,” he says softly. 

“i guess, are you gonna listen to your papa?” jeno’s pet name falling from hyuck’s lips make you tingle with want. you nod making yourself dizzy, hands all over you, holes full. 

“let go for us little pup,” jeno says and you can’t hold it anymore relaxing quickly letting hot piss spill from you. jeno’s thumb spraying it over hyuck’s tummy, his shirt turning yellow.

you melt into the feeling bladder releasing as your orgasm rolls over you. pleasure from everything all of your thoughts fall away. hips bucking into hyuck as you shiver, piss still spraying hard and fast you couldn’t stop if you wanted to. hyuck moans at the way your sticky hole flutters around him pulling him in. 

“fuck,” he groans pouring more cum into your ass. “such a good cumdump.”

“so much piss,” jisung mutters, the hand on his cock fast and sloppy. you whimper at his words embarrassed but pleased. 

“ it’s - ‘s too much,” you whine, wiggling trying to escape from jeno’s thumb and hyuck’s cock still filling you. the pleasure sending shockwaves through you. hyuck slows his hips as your piss dribbles down over his cock. 

“such a good puppy,” jeno coos at you. 

“god you're so soft with her, why don’t you just marry her,” hyuck rolls his eyes, but a grin tugs at his lips, staying inside of you. 

“how can you be mean to this sweet thing?” jeno rubs your cheek with his piss covered fingers. you mewl nuzzling into his sticky palm. 

“easy,” he says, tugging the chain making your squeal. jisung groans, making the boys turn their heads to see him pumping his cock frantically. 

“gooner,” jaemin says flicking jisung’s chest. 

“you know what? i really have to piss,” hyuck says, turning back to you. 

“in me,” you mumble into jeno’s hand. 

“you heard her,” jeno uses his other hand to tug on hyuck’s hair making him whimper. he keeps his eyes on jeno, staring as he commands the room. hyuck whines again hot piss filling you up and bubbling in you. his moves his hips letting it gush out of the tight hole. 

“open,” hyuck does as jeno says mouth wide when jeno spits into it making you whimper. your tummy is hot and bubbly as you fill. 

“fuck,” jisung groans, leaning closer so he can cost you in his cum.

“mmmm,” you love the feeling hot jizz pooling on your tummy as pee is fucked into you. 

“she’s so nasty,” jaemin comments looking between your legs, where hyuck’s piss dribbles out and into the water. reaching again for his cock jerking himself over your leg.

hyuck finishes filling you but jeno keeps a hold on his hair as he pulls out. a gush of yellow before hot sticky fluids glob out of your sloppy rim plopping into the water. 

“look at that,” jeno says leaning over hyuck’s chubby cock pulling his hands from your face and his hair he spreads your cheeks watching as the cum spills out of you. leaning even closer you feel his breath before he spits on your hole. 

“god you really are just a dump huh? how do you even fit all that inside,” jaemin moans again as his hand speeds up. 

“toy,” you bubble. “stretched me.” 

“yeah your oppa’s too small to do that,” jeno smirks at your boyfriend

“fuck you.”

“mmm you wish.”

“shut up i’m about to cum,” jaemin growls. you moan again your boys bickering makes you drippy. hyuck spreads your legs, making room for more cum to shoot over jisung’s puddle growing in your bush. 

“messy puppy,” jeno coos at you, dragging his fingers from your ass collecting the fluids before bringing it to your lips. you moan taking his fingers into your mouth easily whimpering at the salty bitterness the taste means they care for you. he fucks his fingers into your mouth pushing them deeper making you gag around them. 

“can i,” jisung interrupts, raising a hand. “uh piss on you?” you nod eagerly watching hyuck stand and make room for jisung. 

“you know you don’t have to ask?” he says grinning as jisung steps in front of you, his face red. 

“i think i could go too.” jaemin grins, holding his cock aiming it at you. “jen,” he asks, nodding at jeno’s heavy cock. 

“not yet,” you pout, wanting him to make you messier. his fingers slide from your mouth holding your chin sweetly, calming you down. you’re too focused on your papa to see the piss start dribbling out of jisung. 

“she likes it when you piss on her clit,” jaemin says reaching to grab jisung’s cock and aim their streams at your swollen bud. you whined loudly watching it splatter on you, the hard waterfall hitting you in just the right way. 

“moreee,” you groan, the hot streams vibrating you so close to another orgasm. 

“fucking disgusting. are you really gonna cum because they’re pissing on your cunt?” hyuck teases. you squirm trying to grind against the liquid. 

“gross girl,” jaemin says as he moves closer to you, his tip getting sprinkled on. his hand slowly moves on jisung’s cock and he’s already getting hard again. whimpering when jeno shoves his fingers in you fucking the last of oppa’s cum out of you 

“gonnna,” you groan out back arching as you release again. piss still streams on your clit but it was jeno’s fingers shoving inside of you that sent you to the edge. he keeps going his digits fucking the liquid that spill on his palm into your sopping stretched rim. 

“shit, ji’s already hard again,” jaemin announces, piss stream slowing to a dribble as he still jerks jisung’s in his fist. the boys all look at the movement, watching in glee as his cock grows stiff once more. jeno’s fingers help you come down slowly before pulling out cum spilling alongside them. you whimper when he rubs his sticky fingers over your swollen and used up pussy. 

“sorry, i -“ jisung whimpers when jaemin speeds up. 

“do you even have anything left?” hyuck teases reaching around to pinch the boy's nipples, making jisung cry and his face go red. you watch the slide of jaemin’s hand over jisung’s cock, the scene makes you clench causing another glob of cum to spill out of you. you can’t help it. 

“aww even our dumb puppy likes it.” jeno coos flattening his fingers to rub your clit hard and fast before pulling away only to slap it. you arch into him rope tugging on your skin. when you look back, jeno has his hand next to jaemin’s spreading all your juices over jisung. 

“fuckkkk,” he mewls, pulling his lip between his teeth, hips thrusting into their hands. 

“let her have it,” hyuck mumbles into jisung’s neck. 

“yeah ji, cum for your hyungsss,” jaemin coos. and jisung loses it legs shaking as he moans our eyes closed tight when clear starts spurting from him. you whine when it hits you coating your tummy and pussy all over again. watching his slit spill it over jaemin’s fist while jeno pumps the base. 

“so pretty,” you whimper. 

“yeah she likes watching boys touch each other. makes her little cunt wet,” hyuck says pinching jisung’s nipples once more before releasing him letting him crumple on the cool floor. 

“aww you get off to anything don’t you,” jaemin says, petting your face with his hand still coated in jisung’s leftover cum. you nod into the touch savoring the warm sticky feeling against your cheek. 

“i would show off some more but i’m spent,” hyuck says, eyeing jeno who has yet to cum for a second time. jaemin nods in agreement pulling his hand away but admiring you. 

“i guess i could give our puppy some more,” jeno draws, making you perk up. 

“pleasse, papa,” you beg kicking your ankles. 

“we can still watch,” jaemin grins, peeking at the bulge in his friend's pants. he licks his lips not so subtly when jeno pulls himself out, cock heavy. 

“and still touch,” hyuck slithers a hand over to jeno’s ass pushing him towards you. 

“you know,” he continues tapping his chin with a finger, before tugging jeno away and bending down. “this little hole is still full. maybe you could use it.”

jeno eyes the base of the plug still in your pussy. the tempting tight warmth he craves. 

“papa please,” you whimper. the thought of him stretching your pussy one more time makes your whole body warm. he smiles at you before grabbing hyuck and pushing him back easily. moving between your legs, hands over your inner thighs. 

“show us how you stretch her cunt won’t you jeno?” jaemin asks squatting to get eye level with your hole. 

“pa,” you repeat babbling stupidly so cock drunk to even make anymore words. 

“sweet stupid puppy, gonna fuck you now. you’re gonna be good and take papa’s cock?” he soothes a hand over your inner thigh before tugging at the plug the cum spills out easily before he can push in letting it drip onto his cock. 

“unhuh,” you can’t say much, just whine and moan when the head pushes into you filling your used cunt easily. sloppy wet squelching fills the room as he fucks into you. 

“fuck,” jaemin says watching the way your pussy swallow all of jeno’s fat cock. 

“jen we wanted a show,” hyuck says from behind tugging at his pants, letting them poop with his boxers on the floor. you can’t see what’s happening behind jeno just hear hyuck giggling. his hands spreading jeno’s cheeks so he can peek at his asshole. watching the swing of his balls against you, from between his legs. jeno doesn’t flinch just keeps fucking you full and full and full. 

“i think she wants it harder,” jaemin grins and you nod. he moves behind jeno stepping behind hyuck before he grips his hips pushing him somehow harder and faster into you. your mouth just hands open spit drooling as your mind grows dumber and dumber just cock on your  brain. 

“fuck,” jeno groans, hyucks hand grabbing his balls squeezing them. 

“cum papa, won’t you cum for your puppy,” he teases, watching from between jeno’s legs as his cock disappears and reappears more cum covering it each time. 

jeno moans out fucking his hips deep into you making your hiccup. you whimper as his tip hits your cervix, cum spilling. jaemin keeps his hands on jeno’s hips pushing him as hard as he can into you. 

“breed your stupid little pup,” he groans into jeno’s neck. you moan at the words the thought of jeno’s seed making a bay in you swelling you up all for him. jeno soaks in your heat for a moment catching his breath before pulling out slowly letting the cum drip from you. not totally sure who it all belongs to at this point. 

“good puppy,” he puts leaning to kiss your cheek then your lips still open as you drool from them. you whimper lapping at his lips. cum still coming out in globs. 

when he pulls away he joins the pile of boys on the floor in front of you. all red faced and sleepy looking at you still open and pretty for them. 

“she’s still gonna be spilling cum for another day,” jaemin laughs. jisung shakes his head, still eyeing the way it piddles from you. 

“you know hyuck doesn’t care if she pisses on his bed, he's not going to care if she gets cum in the sheets,” jeno smiles, remembering when he’d sat on that same bed with hyuck watching you clutch yourself to keep from pissing. but hyuck pushed his feet into your tummy, making you spill and spill until you cried. sitting in the puddle before hyuck made you touch yourself while they watched. you’d been so good, so obedient, and so embarrassed. 

“she likes the smell,” he beams at you and you nod. 

“she’s disgusting,” jaemin says, laughing at the pout on your face. 

“she can’t help it,” hyuck pouts back at you. “i broke her so long ago she doesn’t even remember what it’s like to not be disgusting.” 

jaemin stands up first walking over to you before patting your thigh. 

“see you next Tuesday, make sure to stretch your little cunnie for me,” he grins before waving to the boys and leaving the room. 

“he’s my ride,” jisung shuffles up awkwardly waving as he leaves quickly following jaemin. 

“and then there were three.” hyuck says. 

“did you get all brain dead, puppy,” jeno pulls himself up walking to you. you babble a response. 

“wanna stay over?” hyuck nudges jeno’s shoulder. 

“if you don’t mind an alarm, i gotta work tomorrow.”

“nope our dumb girl will sleep through anything. you’ll have to wake her up with a drink though,” they grin at you expectantly. the ideas for the early morning are already filling their heads as your empties even more. 

[blondemrk]

giraffe thief

in which roblox youtuber yn accidentally trades her beloved neon giraffe in adopt me and will do anything to get it back┆park jisung ⌗ short smau

tags @ayukas @chenlezip @mrkified @foreignswaggrs @bananinhazz @onyourmaaark @thevirginsuicidenotes @luvsooby @dirtsthings @revlada @timchalamxt @nctrawberries @chenlesfeetpic @pradajaehyun @ppeachyttae

[ttjisung]

bf!jisung with an oral fixation

cw: mdni! smut, oral (f!receiving, allusion of m!receiving but doesn't happen), wc: 420 (lol), that's kind of it bc this is real short >_<

Your boyfriend had a problem. An addiction, of some sort.

What you didn’t know about Jisung until he finally got the courage to ask you out was that he had the most extreme oral fixation ever. Whether it be getting hard while he watched you suck a popsicle, or blushing every time you’d let him lay on your lap, so close to where he wanted to be, Jisung always found an excuse to bring it up.

He was shy at first, trembling almost as he asked you to let him eat you out. Although you were nervous too, you let him, and he eventually gained courage, which was what led you to your current predicament… 

“J-Ji, please… ‘S too much…” Your hands were tangled in Jisung’s hair, pulling every time his tongue would move to your clit, sucking harshly and moaning into your core. He’d shake his head in response, too focused on how you taste to let you go. 

Your back began to arch, body squirming away at the intensity you were feeling after he already made you come twice before. Whether he didn’t hear you, or just chose to ignore you, Jisung continued his actions, big hands enveloping your thighs to keep you spread open as he licked you clean. 

The fingers you weaved into his hair moved to the sheets below you as you gripped out of instinct, yet the loud whine Jisung let out was enough to let you know he disapproved of the removal of contact. You were dazed, not thinking straight and he wasn’t any better, pushing two long fingers into you as he watched in awe. He couldn’t resist, leaning down to suck on the bundle of nerves as he thrust his digits into you quickly, the rhythm mixed with his muffled moans bringing you near the edge. 

You end up cumming on his tongue for the third time, and only when you think you’re finally free to breathe and calm down, Jisung’s moving his hands under your arms to lift you – easily, as if you were nothing – further onto the bed. He lays down this time, eyes squinted in focus as he continues his plan. His hands move to your waist, grabbing you and urging you to straddle him. You expect him to place you on his lap, considering he hasn’t cum once, yet a yelp comes out of your throat as he lifts you until you’re hovering over his face, determined to make you sit on it with one final push.

a/n: this is an icebreaker bc i'm back after a month... i have to be honest i've been stalling writing bc i'm so unoriginal lately </3 i'll write a whole fic and then come on here and find one exactly like it :/ trying my best to release new fics and continue my smaus but it'll be slow progress bc i have a lot of work to do save me...

[nightpoemz]

★☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･' ૮ .◜◡◝ა '･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆★

bf!dreamies when you (lowkey) cancel your date

an: guess who's been sick _(:3 」∠)_

masterlist

[daegall]

☆ when the candles burn out.

➷ Jeno Lee has everything he's wished for, except for you.

pairing: best friend!jeno x (implied fem!) reader

genre: bff2l!AU (WE R SOOO BACK), birthday!AU, university!AU, fluff, slight angst

warnings: none, but feel free to lmk if you find any

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: happies birthday to the (officially titled!) birthday boyyy!!! wishing him the very very best and hope that he knows we're so proud of him and love him sooo much!!!! I've missed writing sm so this was soo fun to make!! sorry if i've been super inactive, i've still got a lot to do before graduation ♡ i hope you all enjoy!!!

If he was asked, Jeno would say his life is very fulfilling, and that he's completely satisfied with it. How could he say any differently? He's doing really well in University, he's got amazing friends and a steady side job to support himself. He shouldn't be complaining.

But he's lying to himself. He knows he feels empty inside. And he knows what could fill that void.

It's you.

Jeno always felt he was missing something—he figured he would fix it later in life. He never knew it would hurt this much, he never knew it would be this hard to fix it. Frankly, he wishes it was something else that would be the glue to fix everything in his life.

It's not that Jeno hated you, no, he loved you. So dearly—he's never ever felt anything so intense in his life. Every time he looked at you, it was like he was reading his favorite book, unable to peel his eyes off the pages. Every time he heard your voice, it was like listening to the soft chirping of birds in the morning—the breeze in the afternoon—the comforting sounds of the bustling city in the evening. And when you touched him, a hug, or even something as simple as a high-five, it's as if you're a fireplace in winter, keeping him warm, inside and out.

God, he wanted you. Bad. Jeno never know one could yearn so deeply. He was never one good with words, but you make him want to write thousands of poems and sing melodies dedicated just to you.

The echoing questions that all his friends constantly ask him haunt him.

'Why don't you tell her?'

'She doesn't know yet?'

'What's the worst that could happen?'

'Why are you so scared?'

That's what Donghyuck always asks him. Jeno can't begin to tell him, he doesn't know where to start, Donghyuck wouldn't understand the turmoil he feels.

Jeno's scared that he's not what you expect. That you have a completely different vision of him than who he actually is. Jeno thinks you need someone who is able to love you loudly, who isn't afraid to give you everything that you not only need, but want, too. Jeno is sure that he's not your ideal man.

Today's his birthday. 25th. He knows because Jaemin greets him the very first this morning, calling him 'halfway-50 year old'. Jeno only rolls his eyes at his usual strange antics, pushing him out of the way of the fridge to grab his yogurt from the fridge.

When Jeno checks his phone, he realizes that Jaemin isn't the first one to say happy birthday. He finds out with a mouthful of yogurt, and a heart full of love, that it was you. On April 23, military time 00:12, you left a long paragraph wishing him a happy birthday, thanking him for everything and for being a great friend, and wishes of love and luck.

"Friends don't send birthday messages that long."

Jeno barely catches on that Jaemin is shamelessly peeking at his phone, throwing him a pointed look. "Maybe she does."

Jaemin's eyebrows raise—a deadpanned look. "She sent me a sentence on my birthday. At 5pm."

"That's cause you gifted her a giftcard for her birthday."

"That's what friends do!" Jaemin retorts. "You gifted her animal crossing—that shit's expensive!"

Jeno has to admit, he's right. About one thing. Friends don't send an essay's worth of a birthday message.

Okay, yeah, saving up for animal crossing for you took some time, but Jeno would do anything for you. And he means everything.

Like meeting up at your place for a birthday celebration with others. He would much rather spend it with only you, but that doesn't seem to be an option, considering how you love to make a huge deal about his birthday every year.

Now here he stands, at your door, knowing full well that you've planned some 'surprise' party. Despite that, he'll still pretend to be shocked—just to make you happy.

Jeno only needs to wait about 3 seconds right after he knocks, before the door swings open, the music inside finally distinguishable and—oh, it's... you. Just you.

Nobody else is seen behind you in your apartment, the familiar living area he recognizes so easily dimmed with a low, warm light, the walls filled with handing streamers of red and green—his favorite colors.

Jeno's heart has never swelled this much with love, his head has never been so clear and unbelievably messy at the same time, his practiced surprised smile completely fading in an expression of shock, his jaw hanging lightly.

"Hello, birthday boy," You grin. God, Jeno might kiss you.

The way you can't seem to stay still in excitement, the anticipation on your face and the way you wear his sweater, something he's definitely left accidentally somewhere inside there—he adores it all.

He never thought his feelings could get even more eager and heartfelt, and yet here he is, feeling it tenfold right in his heart.

"Come in," You smile, grabbing and tugging at his sleeve gently.

You want to laugh at his surprised expression, your excited smile falling shy. "Surprise! I bet you thought it was like all the surprise parties I hosted, huh?"

Jeno should have seen it coming. The fact that you saw through him almost immediately. A soft huff of a laugh leaves his lips as he nods, growing more comfortable as he ventures deeper into the surprise. His eyes trail over the streamers reflecting the warm light from your lamp, his gratitude growing almost unbearable.

Finally, his eyes land on the cake. Unlike the usual ordered or store-bought cake you make Mark Lee get every year for the party, it's sloppy, and it's clear that you made it yourself. The icing barely covers the full surface of the cake, leaving blank, splotchy spots along the cake.

"I tried my best," You comment, noticing his gaze on your cake. You really did, practicing some nights and watching multiple videos to find the best recipe to use.

Jeno grins even more his gaze shifting to you. If you weren't mistaken... he looks at you differently. Well, he looks at you as he always does, with a twinkle in his eyes and with utmost attentiveness, but tonight... it's different.

You think—and this is a big assumption—that he's looking at you with love. You could only dream that he would admit it.

"I love it," He reassures, slowly approaching you. "thank you, Y/N, I love everything about this."

Your cheeks feel sore from all the smiling, but you can't seem to stop smiling, pulling him into a hug, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. "I'm glad. You deserve the best, Jeno."

Jeno holds you tight, his nose burying into the depths of your hair, eyes shutting to savor the moment as long as possible. His hands are warm, you can feel it through his sweater that you wear, one hand on your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades.

It's as if his hands have burnt through the fabric, because you feel every single movement his hands make. The way his thumbs rub gently up and down—the way his palms tensing up as he holds you closer—this feels better than it should.

When you pull away, the warmth finds it's way to your heart, beating faster suddenly and soaring, as if it was searching for his own to entangle in.

When you lead him to the couch to finally blow out the candles (with he candles now about a third of it's original height), Jeno has never felt happier, leaning in close to the cake.

He laughs when you suddenly panic, halting him to search for your camera.

"Why do you even need to film this?" He chuckles softly, it's a rich sound you find yourself enjoying more than you should.

You roll your eyes, finding the camera on your messy study desk, hidden behind a stack of books you never seem to finish reading. "To remember this! I want to look back on this when I'm eighty and reminisce like a stubborn old lady."

When Jeno blows out his candles after an awkward minute of you singing him 'happy birthday' by yourself, he finds himself wishing that you'd be a stubborn old lady with him. He wishes with his whole heart that he'd be there, reminiscing with you, that'd your grandchildren would be gagging at your love story, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Jeno gives you the first slice of the cake, despite your protests, handing it to you with a stern look. His heart melts when you take it from his hands, a small playful scowl on your lips. "I wanted you to taste it first..."

"Fine," He sighs, picking up the two forks you prepared. "we'll eat it together, yeah?"

Jeno dismisses your objections, already stabbing the forks into the cake and scooping it up. He laughs heartily when your words die in your throat, offering the fork to you.

You stare at the piece of cake on your fork with intent. "If it tastes like shit, I'm sorry,"

Even if it did, he'd pretend it was the most delectable delicacy he'd ever eaten. He would believe so, with his whole being. Even if it was bad, your stunning smile would be sweet enough for it to substitute the taste.

You're surprised when Jeno brings his own fork up to your lips, blinking in shock. When you look up at him, he gives you an encouraging look. "I'll feed you, you'll feed me."

You don't think he's aware of how intimate this is. Not when he's looking at you with such innocence and care. But with the dim, warm lighting from the distant lamp, and the music that still plays softly in the background, this feels too romantic—too real.

You go along with it anyway, knowing that you'd do anything and everything for him.

As your lips come in contact with the cake, and your teeth clash just slightly with the metal of the fork, you realize the strawberry jam you used for each layer—it's sour.

Instantly, you gaze up at Jeno, to gauge his reaction and his opinion of your cake, only to see that his mouth is closed, lips stretched into a soft, loving smile as his face his dodged from your fork.

"Jeno, you—how could you!"

In a moment, both forks are on the ground as you lunge forward to grab at his shirt. On your lips is an embarrassed smile, your eyes shut as you shake him back and forth. "You ass! I made this for you..."

"Sorry, sorry!" Jeno laughs, his hands enveloping yours, holding on top of them as you continue to shake him. "You just looked so cute—all anticipated and excited,"

"Yeah! For you to taste it!"

"Fine, fine! I'll taste it! Just stop shaking me!"

When you scowl and release his collar, his hands don't leave yours, instead, he takes your hands in his, his fingers slotting almost perfectly between yours with ease. You don't shy away from this, it's normal for him to do this. It's a typical tactic he uses so you don't start fooling around once more—but this time... it feels different. His touch seems gentler, his thumbs rubbing softly up and down the sides of your palm. You have to admit, it has your heart in a twist.

"How are you going to try it if you keep holding my hands?" You smart him, sticking your tongue out at him.

Jeno's eyes search yours, his gaze deep. It's almost as if he's trying to look into your soul—trying to find the place you keep the thought of him. He should look into your heart, then.

His right hand suddenly leaves yours, and just as you think he's about to grab the fork once more, his hand inches towards your face. You don't dodge it, despite your shock, your lips parting in surprise, and Jeno knows that he's interrupted one of your sassy, smart retorts that he loves so much.

It's like instinct when his palm envelops your cheek, that you lean into his touch, your head tilting into his hold. As his thumbs rub at your cheek, his eyes search your entire face, searching for any signs of discomfort or rejection. He searches, and keeps searching, only to find nothing. You want this. As much as he does.

"...so are you going to try the cake?"

"Give me a minute, you dork,"

You laugh, and he laughs when you laugh. Your laughter entangle in the air and echo, like a resonating song on repeat—the kind that no matter how many times you play over and over, you never get sick of it.

Suddenly, Jeno's nose is brushing against yours. His thumb gently caressing at your bottom lip. He searches your eyes once more, and at this proximity, he can finally tell what you feel. In your eyes, it's him. In his eyes, it's you. In your heart, is his. In his soul, is yours.

The tender exchange of affectionate looks screams only one thing.

I love you.

When Jeno's lips press to yours, you're not surprised. Instead, you welcome it warmly, reciprocating and leaning into it.

His hands travel, one to your neck, the other your waist to tug you closer. Your own find comfort in the hairs of the bottom of his neck, tousling the strands there. You feel his lips curl into a smile, as his neck cranes to find an angle to grow closer to you, if it were possible.

Jeno slowly and gently lowers you to your back, his hand protecting the back of your head as he settles you down on your carpet, hovering over your body. As your arms wrap around his neck, his tongue finds yours, tangling tenderly and lovingly, declaring his care and affection, all his feelings for you.

You smile against his lips as Jeno's laugh vibrates against your own, content and devoted, finding the whole situation unbelievable. Luck truly is in his favor, and he thinks he's one step closer to his birthday wish coming true.

When Jeno pulls away, his breath is warm against your lips, the tip of his nose grazing against yours.

"...tastes sweet," He finally elates, smiling. His eyes find yours, pupils dilated with love.

You laugh out, eyes squeezed shut, and head throwing back against his hand that still holds you protectively. You snort when he gives you a confused, almost lost puppy-like look. "The cake jam was sour, Jeno,"

"Oh," he hums. "must've just been you I was tasting, then..."

You push playfully at his shoulder. "Oh my god, you sappy idiot!"

"No, no," He retorts with a grin. "you taste sweet. I didn't get a single taste of sour,"

"Taste the cake, then!"

"Don't wanna, just want you,"

Despite his words, you make him taste the cake, laughing as his nose scrunches up. "It's—oh god—it's sweet! I swear!" He insists.

Finally, Jeno feels complete. He no longer feels an empty void inside of him, he no longer feels lonely or hurt when he looks at you—though he does feel his heart hurt, swelling with the amount of love he has for you. He can finally say wholeheartedly that he's satisfied with his life, that he feels fulfilled.

He's doing really well in University, he's got amazing friends, the best girlfriend he could ask for, and a steady side job to support himself and his girl, you.

Jeno is dead set on making his birthday wish come true.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ can I call her what she is? ⋆⭒˚.⋆

summary: Doyoung has a new girlfriend and she makes it very clear to you and you alone that she doesn't like you. Too bad no one believes you

(cw: f!reader, cursing, side character is a bitch, the guys are idiots, angsty with a happy ending!)

You liked to think you were a likable person. You were kind, you had good manners, you were polite, you were never rude, but now you were starting to rethink it all. Ever since Doyoung's girlfriend, Jane, started hanging around, actually. They hadn't been together long, but she was a strong character so it was no wonder she wormed her way into hanging around with you guys.

It wasn't that she was outright mean, but she was snide and passive aggressive. Only to you it seemed. You really should have been in a better state of mind too, you and fratboy!Jaehyun had been official now for a few weeks now. There was a lot of texting over winter break and a lot of time spent together since school started back up. However, you were still a little iffy about you two being together. Old insecurities hadn't yet been quelled and Jane being a bitch just made you feel worse.

Somehow Jane had finagled her way into a Sunday dinner, an event usually reserved the brothers and their partners. It made sense, but usually partners didn't show up within the first month of dating. Jane and Doyoung had only been together for three weeks from what you understood, and you knew better than anyone that being around this group of guys could be a lot. You'd attended a few times before you and Jaehyun were official and you remember being beyond overwhelmed.

You and Taeyong were in the kitchen, plating up the take out you guys had ordered. The kitchen was loud since everyone was hanging out waiting for the last few people to show up. It was like every other Sunday dinner, loud laughing, lots of talking, and complaining about Johnny being gone, some kind of family emergency.

Doyoung led Jane into the kitchen and you watched as she went around the room and greeted everyone. You exhaled a long breath, watching as she greeted Taeyong with a wave and a smile on her face. You waved at her, smiling, "Hey Jane, it's so good to see you again."

The smile on her face freezes, the smile no longer reaching her eyes, "right, so good to see you too."

The weird feeling you always get around her settles into your stomach as dinner progresses. The guys hang on Jane's every word as she explains some kind of biological chemistry phenomenon. Even you have to admit it's interesting, but then she turns to you. The smile on her face is sweet, but you know that look. She's about to say something rude to you.

She clears her throat as she turns to you, "and I'm sorry, what was your major again? Something with children, right?"

"Yeah, I'm an elementary education major," you nod. Jaehyun smiles as he rubs your back, encouraging this connection between the ladies of Nu Chi Theta.

"Of course you are," Jane nods, "you know, times have changed. Women are more than able to pick something in fields that aren't already overrun by females."

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out and Jane's attention is drawn elsewhere with a smug smirk in your direction. What the fuck was her problem?

The dinner ends not too much later, though you had hoped it would have ended sooner. Jane has gone home, something about chemistry homework or whatever. You stay at the table gnawing on your bottom lip as the guys continue to talk around you. You turn to Jaehyun on your right, your voice low, "do you think Jane is mean to me?"

His brows furrow, "what are you talking about? She's nice to everyone."

You helplessly turn to Haechan who sits on your left. He's always had your back, surely he'll believe you, right? "Do you think Jane is weird with me?"

"Did she say something mean to you?" Haechan asks, you nod sincerely, "I didn't catch that. What did she say?"

"About my major being overrun with females," you explain slowly.

Haechan cocks his head to the side, "well, teaching is a field dominated by women so she wasn't really wrong though was she?"

After that night you start to second guess yourself. Were you overthinking it? Was she not being mean to you? Were you making it all up? Still, you find that you don't attend the Sunday dinners because you know she'll be there. When you can't avoid her, you just get quiet and don't interact as much as you normally would.

Tonight though, you cant avoid it. All your excuses have run out and unfortunately telling Jaehyun your pet chinchilla was sick didn't work. You sit in your usual seat, poking at the food on your plate with a blank look on your face.

You can feel Jane's bitchy energy focused right on you. Great, here comes another blow. She sets her cup down, "so did you help Taeyong make dinner tonight?"

You shake your head, not looking up from your plate, "no."

"No wonder it tastes better," she laughs and to your dismay, the rest of the table bursts out in chuckles too.

"But we usually order take out, so she doesn't cook anyway," you hear Johnny pipe up. You look up, feeling a sense of hope and an immense sense of appreciation for your friend.

It's barely enough to deter Jane. She waves off Johnny's comment with another laugh, "so how long have Sunday dinners been for official partners? I know you and Jaehyun haven't been official for very long, right?"

Jaehyun pipes up, "Since the middle of December, happiest days of my life since then."

The other guys roll their eyes playfully, having heard enough about the two of you to know that they won't miss out on anything as they return to their own conversations. Her brows furrow as she leans in from her seat across from you, "Doyoung mentioned that you two had a think going on for months before, so were you just a booty call? Did you trick him into making it official?"

"Ha, trick me," Jaehyun chuckles. Your brows furrow as you look at him with a look of complete hurt. Did he not hear everything she said?

"And I mean really, besides his good looks, what was so appealing about Jaehyun? He had a reputation for sticking his dick anywhere didn't he? I don't think I'd ever let a man disrespect me the way he disrespected you," she shrugs her shoulders, looking around the table at all the guys who have now gone silent.

Johnny coughs out in shock, "yo, what the fuck, Jane?"

"I'm just being honest," Jane shrugs, "it's not that serious."

"No! It is that serious. No one asked you to be honest about shit that doesn't have the slightest thing to do with you," Johnny counters.

"It's just girl talk John, typical female conversation," Jane rolls her eyes.

"But it's not a conversation when Sweets hasn't even said more than one word. You're being really fucking rude. There's no reason to dredge up old wounds for my friends and make a mess where you're not involved at all," Jonnny argues.

"She also implied that I'm a slut," Jaehyun pipes up.

Johnny holds his open palm out in Jaehyun's direction, "I just watched you let Jane stomp all over your girlfriend and decimate her self esteem, you don't get to be defended right now. You fucking laughed about Jane saying Sweets was just a booty call, bro!"

"Johnny, it's alright..." you offer quietly.

"It's really not though. Is this the first time she's talked to you like this?" Johnny asks.

Beside you Haechan shakes his head softly, "it's not. She made some comments a few weeks ago and Sweets asked us about it."

"And that's why you haven't been coming to the dinners, isn't it?" Johnny asks.

You're barely able to nod before Jaehyun is tugging you into his arms in a tight hug and apologizing profusely right in your ear, "I was such an idiot. I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. I'm always going to listen to whatever you say and agree no matter what."

Johnny clears his throat, "I'm sorry to do this to your girlfriend, Doyoung, but I'm going to have to invoke my power as vice president of this frat and ask that you leave, Jane."

Doyoung chokes on his drink, "have you been telling people you're my girlfriend?"

"Yes, because I said I am," Jane rolls her eyes as she stands.

"You're my lab partner in chemistry that can't tell when she's overstayed her welcome. You heard Johnny, bye," Doyoung waves.

She strides away with a scoff, telling Doyoung she was breaking up with him. Everyone looks around the table awkwardly before Haechan clears his throat, "we owe you an apology Sweets."

The table of frat boys nods, all expressing their words of apology as Jaehyun holds you tightly and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Haechan groans, "well, can I call her what she is without anyone getting offended? She was a mega bitch!"

"Cheers to that," Jaehyun chuckles, raising his cup.

[chenlezip]

ranking ex dreamies | part 2

annas note: part 1 | this was so fun to do!! lmk if you'd like me to do another part where theyre acc not yns ex.. (this anon gave me the idea and i think its brilliant!).

tags: @remtrack @mejaemin @mahaewebs @zorange13 @florihaei @spacejip @markkiatocafe @polarisjisung @lainzitos @ayukas @sunghoonsgfreal @ikozen @tigerlillizz @bbykaixx @slayhaechan @yayaiheardyouthefirsttime @httpjiprk

[lexis-shitpostery]

Disgusting. I love it 😻

— sharing is caring

▸ 18+ mdni.

kun loves you, and he loves his friends as much, but he can't seem to refuse them anything—even when it's about having a taste of you.

| pairing. bf!kun x fem!reader (ft. xiaohenwin)

| warnings. noncon, extremely mean kun!!, exhibitionism, coercion, degradation, toxic relationship, unprotected sex, i am not kidding kun is very despicable in this.

| wc. 3.5k

⤷ part of my 1k event.

you cling to kun like glue, glancing at his friends like they’re wild animals about to eat you alive. their gazes have never been so invasive and insistent, and this doesn’t seem to alert your boyfriend at all. 

it’s like he knows. oh, he definitely knows. 

you shift closer to kun on the couch, eyes strained to the floor, not daring to look up and potentially meet someone’s gaze. everyone talks to each other, except you, keeping quiet. you’re not really talkative in general, but this time it’s like you don’t belong here. 

kun mostly ignores the tugs on his t-shirt, only giving you attention when it’s to poke fun at you, making all of his friends laugh. you hate hanging out with them and how your boyfriend becomes ruthless with his degrading comments when they’re here. 

your face always burns, feeling everyone’s eye on you, lingering longer than normally. you’ve always thought kun had really bad taste when it comes to friends, considering how they never hide their clear attraction to you, but tonight, you think that maybe there’s a reason why kun has such despicable friends. 

you’re clueless when kun pulls you up with him at the same time winwin does, walking to your bedroom. it’s like they both understand each other without saying a word, like it had already been discussed. 

your stomach clenches, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch kun sending a knowing look at winwin. when you reach the door to your bedroom, kun turns to you. 

“i want you to be nice to sicheng,” he tells you with a stern face, holding both of your arms in his hands. you slowly connect the dots, and when you steal a glance toward winwin, you understand that all the inappropriate looks thrown your way before was something your boyfriend allowed. 

you feel water collecting at your lash lines as you look up at kun. you shake your head from side to side.

you notice him clenching his jaw, slightly tilting his head. “it wasn’t a proposition. be good,” he whispers, squeezing your arms as a warning. he stares at you for a few seconds, and seeing that you don’t protest, he nods. “i’ll be in the living room.”

with that, he leaves you alone with winwin, joining the others in the other room. you watch kun walk away, completely shocked and terrified. 

you turn your head back at winwin who’s standing by the door, giving you a small smile before taking your hand in his. you have to raise your head to look at him and the kind expression on his face doesn’t succeed in calming you down. 

did your boyfriend just offer you to his friend?

winwin pulls you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, not forgetting to lock it. you bite your inner cheek harder and you can feel the rusty taste of blood invading your mouth. 

you stand in the middle of the room as he approaches you carefully. he still has this smile on his face that usually sets you at ease, but now you really don’t like it. 

winwin is the only friend you’ve ever appreciated—he’s kind, respectful, and a little shy like you. you never talk to him much, but you don’t feel scared in his presence. don’t feel sexualized. except for now. 

the warmth of winwin’s body almost suffocates you, his heavy breath hitting your cheek as he pants loudly, his hips sloppily moving back and forth between your legs. he chokes on his moans, gulping down as he feels your walls involuntarily closing around him. 

the situation makes you feel so ashamed you can’t even look at winwin, even though he constantly grabs your chin and turns your head in his way whenever it falls to the side. your stomach flutters at the sight of his pouty lips, eyes begging for your attention, but the feeling is short-lived before you remember why winwin is on top of you in the first place. 

his hips collide with yours, making you whine, squelching noises leaving your pussy as his cock thrusts into you. you can feel it pulsing in you, feel how warm he is, how he fills you up entirely. you hate how you feel every little thing, every little detail. 

“ngh, fuck,” you hear winwin moaning above you, hiding his head in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin. 

your nails scratch the skin of his back, no doubt leaving red trails behind. you don’t like the idea of having your trace on him, but your arms were brought around his shoulders by him, and you know better than to remove them; something tells you that failing winwin would also mean failing kun. and you don’t want that. 

“you feel so good,” winwin rasps out, “and—fuck—so wet…” 

you only let out a cry in response. you never thought you’d ever have sex with one of kun’s friends, especially not in the case where you’re still with him and he agreed to it. in a way, you feel betrayed, but deep down, you can’t help but want to be good. be good for kun, whatever his expectations are. 

winwin leaves kisses down your neck, his full lips pressing down on your shivering skin in an intimate manner that, oddly enough, eases you down a little. he hisses between kisses, swinging his hips back and forth, his cock nudging your g-spot and inevitably making you clench around him. 

kun is never really gentle and appreciative, but he’s loving—in his own way. his right hand always belongs around your throat, the other hitting and pinching every patch of skin on your body. he tells you how dirty you are for liking the way he treats you or how lucky you are to have him because no one else would ever want you. 

you won’t lie that his words hurt you, that they break your heart a little, but he also promises that he’d never leave you, that you are his and there’s no point for him to wish to be with someone else. 

so the way winwin fucks you is vastly different from what you’re used to, and honestly, all you want right now is your boyfriend. but you can’t. 

suddenly, winwin pulls out of you, and you feel strangely empty. your arms slips away from his back as he lowers himself down on you and his head finds a spot between your legs. you’re surprised, and even slightly embarrassed. 

kun never goes down on you willingly, you always have to ask him—or rather beg him. 

winwin immediately sucks your clit into his mouth and you gasp at that, spreading your legs wider. you don’t dare to touch his hair, instead keeping your arms by your side, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists. 

he laps at your bud of nerves, then descends to your hole, passing his soft tongue between your dewy folds. he moans loudly against you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted, his nose bumping into your clit at the same time. 

you curl your toes as his lips go back to your clit, sucking and licking skillfully, the wet sounds making you cringe, but you easily ignore it as the pleasure builds up in your stomach. he holds your hip as he moans and whines, pulling back a tad bit just to see what he’s doing before diving back in.

you look down, noticing that he’s laid on his side, his free hand eagerly fisting his cock, your wetness sticking between his long fingers. he sucks more avidly, switching to his tongue then back to his lips, the pace of his hand not faltering until he moans out, sending vibrations through your body, white beads of cum falling down over his hand. 

the sight makes you clench around nothing, reaching your own high seconds after. winwin hums appreciatively as he licks you up, still stroking his cock, getting everything out. 

you’re breathless, your chest and forehead sweaty. you don’t say anything as winwin gets dressed back into his clothes, acting like this was a regular hook-up. 

when his eyes land on you one last time, he smiles warmly, giving your cheek a quick peck. you watch him exit the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

you stare at the ceiling for a while, trying to recollect your thoughts, trying to process everything that’s happened. you’re not as shaken as you thought you’d be, but it’s still weird. very weird.

you don’t hear any more voices sounding from the living room and you suppose everyone is gone now. you put on one of kun’s hoodies, wandering out of the bedroom. 

you walk to the kitchen, and your cheeks heat up when you see ten. kun is there, too, and when his gaze meets your figure, his face turns severe. you look between the two men, one smiling playfully at you and the other approaching you like you did something bad. 

you recoil slightly, kun stopping in front of you. “it was about time you come out,” he says, eyeing you up and down. “look at you…” he winces as he grabs your arm, pulling you closer to him. “you’re a mess. go clean yourself up,” he orders in his usual stern voice.

“don’t be so mean to her,” ten adds, leaning over the kitchen counter. “sicheng said she’d been such a good girl.” his smile widens, his eyes lingering on your body. 

if there’s one person kun is willing to listen to, it's surely ten. he’s pretty nice to you in general, always has a smile on his face that sometimes seems too teasing for your liking. 

kun looks at you for a moment until he wordlessly lets go of your arm, giving you some space. 

“i just… i thought everyone had left.” you gulp down and you can see kun softening up.

ten looks fondly at you, like you’re the most adorable thing in the world. “it’s fine, i was about to leave anyway,” he announces, pushing himself off of the counter. 

when kun comes back after saying goodbye to his friend, you scurry to him and wrap your arms around his torso. you really can’t hold back. you missed kun’s warmth way too much in the past hours. 

he soothes you by rubbing your back gently, but he soon pulls you off of him, telling you to go wash yourself again. you obey silently, putting on the pajamas he picked out for you after. 

entering the bedroom, you see kun hanging up some clothes in your shared wardrobe. you sit down at the edge of the bed and look down at your lap, hesitating a few moments before finally speaking.

“kun…” you call his name and he hums in response. “well, um. why- why did you let sicheng… sleep with me?”

he hangs the last shirt then finally turns around to you. he seems to think about what to say, but he decides to go with a simple answer.

“because he’s my friend,” he replies, walking up to you. 

his explanation is too plain for you, too short. you know kun values his friendships a lot, they’re very important to him, but you still don’t understand. 

“but…” you begin, trying to not sound too bothered, “i didn’t agree to it.”

kun only sighs, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over it. “i don’t agree with a lot of things either, baby, but that doesn’t mean it’ll change anything.” 

he backs away and climbs on the bed, slipping himself under the covers. you fight back the tears threatening to leave your eyes, quickly whipping your lash line and turning around to join your boyfriend in bed. 

—-

you look at yourself through the mirror just above the bathroom sink, taking in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you wanted to stay in your room all night, but kun didn’t let you. 

you turn off the faucet, drying your hands with the hanging towel. your breath quickens and your eyes shoot up when you hear steps coming in the bathroom, invading your space. 

yangyang makes his way to you in long steps as you watch him through the mirror, swallowing down the lump in your throat. his eyes roam up and down your body shamelessly and he stops just behind you, caging you between him and the sink. 

he puts his hands on either side of your body on the counter and leans down, his nose brushing over your temple, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. the way he looks at you doesn’t feel right nor the way he touches you. 

“don’t worry, i won’t do anything…” he smirks, staring at you through the mirror. “you’re pretty, but i’m not really interested into fucking what’s already been passed around, you know?” yangyang takes a piece of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his index. 

your gaze drops down, focusing on a droplet of water running down the drain. he really doesn’t have to tell you this, but he does anyway because yangyang is… yangyang. mean and mocking. 

“but i’m sure others will want to,” he smirks and he notices how you frown in confusion. “aw, did you really think it was just a one time thing?” yangyang laughs, his breath hitting the back of your neck and making you shiver uncomfortably. “you’re so naive… you really don’t know, huh?”

you turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes that are immediately drawn to your lips as you speak. “don’t know what?” 

the corners of his mouth tug upward and his tongue peeks out from between his lips, wetting them. “it took a lot to convince kun… sicheng only had your name on his lips for a whole year until kun was kind enough to finally accept,” he explains and you become even more confused, your stomach clenching into a knot. “you know how generous he is. you can’t blame him for being a good friend.”

“you’re the group’s little slut now,” he whispers the last words into your ear and you grip the edge of the counter until the blood drains from your knuckles. 

but the tension leaves your body when you’re interrupted by your boyfriend. yangyang turns his head into his direction, reluctantly pulling away from you. you can see in the mirror that he still has that arrogant smile on his face, but kun doesn’t look as happy. 

yangyang passes by him and walks out of the bathroom, leaving you alone with kun. 

he stays silent for a moment, like he means to tell you something, but he doesn’t, remaining stern and cold instead. 

“we’re about to eat, come on.” he gestures to you with a wave of his hand and you execute yourself, following him to the kitchen.

—-

hendery is on you, palming your ass as he kisses you messily, not really caring about being gentle or not. you should have expected it, yangyang warned you, after all. this isn’t done. you’re everyone’s free to use as they please.

when he breaks the kiss, he stares at you in a way that you don’t understand. he looks at you like he knows something that you don’t and it unnerves you so much. 

“i wonder if that pussy gets as wet as sicheng said…” he lowly growls and your eyes widden, squirming as his hand slides down between your bodies, cupping your cunt through your panties. 

he rubs your clit with his middle finger, grinning in satisfaction as he watches you getting bothered, breath becoming irregular. your face heats up and it’s like the air in the room got scorching hot in an instant. 

“can’t believe he let us have you… he was such a bitch about not sharing you, but something like that can’t be kept away forever,” hendery chuckles, his hand that was previously between your legs now tracing your thigh.  

“us?” you repeat, breath caught in your throat. what does he mean by ‘us’? there’s only him here. kun said there’ll be only hendery. 

he gives you a devious smile as he hears you stutter, the door opening at the same moment. you glance behind hendery’s shoulder and your blood runs cold when your eyes land on xiaojun. 

you attempt to push hendery off of you, but he holds you tightly against him. it only makes him laugh at you. 

“no! kun said it was going to be just you.” you push again on hendery, but he doesn’t budge an inch. 

“it’s alright, princess. we’re not transgressing the rules,” hendery says just as xiaojun makes his way to the edge of the bed. “kun is well aware of this…”

you shift your gaze back to xiaojun who’s also smiling at you. “stop worrying your little head so much,” he teases, joining you both on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “you’re gonna like this.”

you let them get you rid of your panties, not wasting any time to remove your top, thrown carelessly away on the floor. two men in the same bed with you is a situation that never crossed your mind before, even less when none of them are kun. you’re scared, terrified. 

they’re probably the ones you appreciate the least amongst kun’s friends, along with yangyang. they’ve never been subtle about their attraction to you, especially hendery who never missed an opportunity to look at you in a less than innocent way. they’ve never done anything to you, of course, and you never thought they would either, until now—until your boyfriend allowed it. 

they take turns on you, changing positions so many times you have a hard time following them. one moment xiaojun has his fingers into you, convincing himself he can make you squirt, and the other hendery’s between your legs, eating both of your holes at the same time as xiaojun forces his cock down your throat. 

your eyes burn from all the tears, but it doesn’t stop them one second, it even encourages them you think. you feel used and dirty, even though your body reacts to all of their touches, enjoying it way more than you should. 

the next few days are normal, that is until your boyfriend invites his friends over again. you hide in your bedroom, the only place where you know they can’t come. 

kun knew what you had in mind, that you had the intention to stay sheltered in your shared bedroom, and so he told you to come out earlier—be respectful, say hi to the boys—but you just couldn’t. you thought you were good for the first hour, but that didn’t last long. 

“what are you still doing here? i told you to behave tonight, didn’t i?”

you look at kun with frowned eyebrows, feeling bad for disappointing him, but you don’t want to be around his friends. what if they decide they want to use you again?

he walks further into the room, walking to your form curled under the sheets. he pulls you out of bed, not caring about your attire, and brings you forcefully to the living room. 

“kun, no! please, i’m sorry!” your eyes start to water, scared about where this is going. 

“shut it,” he hisses, “you want to be a disrespectful little brat, huh? then let’s show everyone how despicable you are.”

everyone’s eyes are on you, laughing mockingly, and you’ve never felt more humiliated. hendery says something to yangyang that makes him snicker, ten’s usual empathy is gone, and winwin can’t wait to see what kun is going to do.

your boyfriend sits on the couch across from everyone else, placing you between his legs. “here she is,” he groans, taking a fistful of your hair, “thought i wouldn’t come get her. thought she could hide away in our bedroom…”

with his hold on your hair, he makes you face the others and you look down shamefully, tears running down your cheeks. you hate his friends, you hate them so much. it’s their fault if kun acts so ruthlessly with you. 

he spreads your legs open, hooking your knees over his own. he doesn’t bother to remove your night shorts, only pushing it to the side along with your panties. his fingers come in contact with your bare folds, making you jolt in his arms, your hands holding onto his thighs behind you. 

“you need to understand that you don’t decide here,” he growls in your ear, pressing tight circles onto your clit. “i do whatever the fuck i want with you, whether you like it or not.” he takes a hold of your jaw with his free hand. “look at them, baby. look at them as i fuck you on my fingers.”

[marktcha]

mdni college student!mark lee x gn! reader wc ꣑ৎ 505

ㅤ👓 "fuck..." mark mumbled, a moan shortly following his words. your head carefully bobbing up and down across his cock, tongue skillfully running circles and lines against the veins and skin.

"...y-yn..." mark shakily whispered, his head shoved into the pages his textbook, the palms of his hands gripping the sharpened corners of the hardback cover hard enough to leave marks on his hands.

you darted your eyes up at him, gloss coating them from the gagging you had just done over his dick. your knees placed on the cold wooden floor, your thighs slightly lifting up and down as you raised your head upwards and downwards. "mmm?" you said, still around his cock, the noise you made sending vibrations down his dick.

"...shit...!" mark muttered at the vibrations, his top teeth slamming onto his bottom lip roughly, trying his hardest to stay quiet through the pleasure.

taking that as a cue that he was enjoying it, you continued to suck his dick. deciding to lift your hands up to his cock, carefully teasing his balls as you sucked on his tip, no longer able to tell the difference between pre-cum and your own saliva.

mark used the little bit of self-control he had left to pry his glasses off of his face, carefully tossing them onto the desk in front of him. he placed his hands onto his face and covered the glowing pigment of pink on his cheeks.

you felt his cock throbbing around in your mouth, signaling he was close. you quickly removed your mouth off of his dick, earning a whine from him, "in my mouth or out?" you mumbled, referring to where he wanted his semen to go. you placed your head back before he could respond.

"..in.. please" he said in-between pants, him only being able to hold onto the semen at the tip of his dick for another few seconds before it exploded in your mouth, the hot liquid filling up your mouth at a rapid rate, the liquid showing no signs of stopping. you had to swallow multiple times before you could feel the twitching come to a slow halt. you swallowed one last time before looking up at him as he removed his hands from his face.

mark's beautiful face was still panting slowly, his forehead glazed with sweat. his lips slightly parted, tempting you to stand up and slam your lips into his, so you reacted to that urge.

you quickly got up and grabbed his head with your hands, both of them lightly cupping his chin, before you slowly placed your lips on top of his, immediately sliding your tongue in, allowing it to feel all around the inside of mark's mouth. mark began to do the same with his tongue.

"..fuck.." you began to mumble between pants, "...i love you baby..." you mumbled, pulling away from the kiss momentarily to look him in the eyes.

"i love you too, yn..." he responded before you both placed your lips on top of each others.

marktcha : do not repost

[viasdreams]

ـــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

MY FIRST AND LAST

jaemin always knew he would only fall in love once within his lifetime. he must be a some kind of psychic.

a/n: plz excuse any mistakes, this was a bitch to edit and im sure some things fell through the cracks >_<

[eternalpast]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

sending memes to bf! dreamies

warnings: suggestive

authors note: first post on new account, kinda nervous

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

[tigermark]

haechan bf scenarios ♡*ᯓ

paring : haechan x fem!reader

genre : fluffi

tw : established relationship (duh), mention of food, lotssss of skinship, pet names (pretty, baby, love)

a/n : i'm so happy that he's finally gonna come out with a solo later this year (｡･･｡)♡

bf!haechan who always has music playing in some form or fashion inside his house. you'll be in the kitchen making a meal for yourself, and he'll just walk in the room, humming whatever song is playing. he'll wrap his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder before he rests his chin on it. "what're you making pretty?" hyuck would ask, voice smooth and soft. you'd respond, offering him a bite which makes him smile. once you finish making your meal, he'd spin you around and insist that you dance with him. you'd agree, and before you know it, you're swaying with him while be gently sings the song to you. he'd get lost in the moment and pull you in for a kiss, his hands gripping at your waist. after a moment—maybe a few moments—he'd pull away and kiss the tip of your nose, his arm still wrapped around you. "don't let your food get cold baby," hyuck would say, walking away from you with a smirk.

bf!haechan who mocks you but in an affectionate way. you'd be scolding him for doing something absolutely stupid like going outside in the cold without a jacket and he'd just stare at you with a smirk while you rambled on and on. "you could've caught a cold out there!" you'd say after a pause of silence between you two as you walked up to him and threw your arms around him in a hug. hyuck would repeat your sentence back to you in a more whiny and cutesy way, making you roll your eyes at him. he'd giggle once more, just mostly loving to see how much you truly care for him. "don't worry love i won't do it again, promise." he'd say, voice extra soft so you know he's not teasing you once again.

bf!haechan who sits at his desk for hours playing video games. you'll ask him every 10 minutes if he's done to which he'll say "one more round baby, okay?" something you know is a lie. he doesn't mean to hurt your feelings, he just loses track of time easily. so, you decide to take matters into your own hands, pulling up a chair of your own next to him. it'd start with you placing your hand over his that's rested on his mouse, stroking his fingers softly. you'd then rest your head on his shoulder, giving his neck subtle kisses while he tried to not pant into his mic. at this point, his brain was fuzzy. once the match was over, his friends would beg for one more round and hyuck would absolutely refuse.

bf!haechan who's always cold and uses you as his personal heater. you'll be somewhere in public, like a grocery store line, and he'll nudge his hand with yours, sliding it up into your sleeve. "it's cold in here..." he'd say quietly but cutely, eyes drifting up to yours as he interwinted your hands. on occasion, he'd rest his head on your shoulder, burying his face into your neck, swearing that his nose is cold. despite this, hyuck will always give you his jackets whenever you say you're cold because at the end of the day he truly just wants to care for you. even if he uses this small tendency as an excuse to be clingy, it's still cute to see him muttering about how cold he is.

bf!haechan who always looks so pretty when the sun's rays land on his skin. it could be early morning, and the pink light from his bedroom window would beat off him, illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room. on hot summer days the bright yellow casted on his skin always made him look so warm and inviting; someone you just had to give a hug to. and most of all, when it's golden hour and the orangey hues from the sun illuminate the sky and his honey-like skin, making him look like an angel. either way, hyuck is the embodiment of the sun in many ways, but his vibrancy as a person never fades.

[ohnoyuno]

Shenanigans and Splashes 

Pairing: jeong jaehyun x female reader | ft. ilichil Genre: fluff Warnings: suggestive Word Count: 2020

Summary: When one very down bad Jaehyun lets his thirst get the best of him, all hell breaks loose. A simple tug on a bikini string quickly escalates as his members turn on him in full force. Mayhem erupts as they seek to avenge your honour. 

Jaehyun and you were like a couple out of puppy love, splashing around in the pool, the warm sun reflecting off the water as laughter echoed between the two of you. You tossed water playfully at him, watching his eyes narrow mischievously as he swam towards you “You think you can get me wet?” he teased, a confident smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, for sure I can,” you replied, flicking another splash in his direction.

But just as you turned to escape from his counterattack, Jaehyun made a move, gently pulling you back toward him by your wrist. “Want to get you wet elsewhere, baby” he whispered into yours ears 

“Ha.ha.ha you wish!” You said sarcastically, swimming away from him quickly, the water rippling as you moved, but Jaehyun, being the competitive one, swam after you with ease. As you turned back to see him, he was already behind you. The cheeky grin on Jaehyun’s face never faded. Letting his intrusive thoughts take control, he swiftly tugged at the string of your bikini top, causing it to loosen.

Startled, you instinctively grabbed onto it, holding it close to your chest, shooting him a mock glare. “JAEHYUN!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of mock frustration and laughter.

Jungwoo, who had been floating nearby, burst out in laughter at the sight of you scrambling to secure your bikini top. “Hyung, you are so dead,” he said between chuckles, shaking his head at Jaehyun’s antics.

The laughter caught the attention of the other members who had been lounging by the pool.

Jaehyun put his hands up in mock surrender. “Just a little harmless fun.”

In defeat, you made your way to the side of the pool, your eyes locked with Doyoung’s, who had been sitting with his legs dangling in the water, watching the chaos unfold. “Ugh help me, please,” you said, throwing him a pleading look, knowing that out of everyone, he was the one who might actually take your side.

He offered you a hand. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today” he said with a laugh, his voice teasing but sincere.

With one hand still holding onto the fabric of your bikini, you reached out to him, and he quickly lifted you up to sit on the edge of the pool. As you settled yourself on the ledge, you could still hear the faint echoes of Jaehyun’s laughter in the background.

Without needing you to ask again, Doyoung quickly got to work, his movements efficient and steady as he gently retied your bikini top with ease. His calm demeanor contrasted with Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s laughter still filling around the pool. 

“Is it secure?” Doyoung asked, his voice neutral as he glanced up at you and gave a brief, thoughtful look. His tone was matter-of-fact, with a touch of subtle attention to detail.

You nodded, relieved, and gave him a grateful smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Doyoung.”

“Baby,” Jaehyun called out to you from across the pool, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone. You could feel his eyes on you, but you ignored him, crossing your arms and pretending not to hear.

Doyoung just shot him a playful look, the corner of his lips twitching as he replied, “Next time, try to keep your intrusive thoughts in check.”

Suddenly, you felt a warm presence behind you. Without warning, Taeyong wrapped a soft towel around your shoulders, his arms gently resting on you as he gave you a comforting smile.

“Thank you, Taeyong,” you said softly, feeling warm and bundled up

Taeyong patted your shoulder lightly before looking over at Jaehyun, his expression also turning playful yet firm. He gave Jaehyun a look and said, “Try anything else, and you’ll have to deal with me.” His tone was light, but the underlying warning was clear.

“Noona, I’ll help you take revenge!” Haechan shouted with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Before one knows it, he pounced on Jaehyun from behind, pushing him underwater. Jungwoo quickly jumped in to join him, pulling Jaehyun down further as they both began to attack him together.

Jaehyun resurfaced, completely caught off guard. “Hey! Shouldn’t you guys be on my team?!” he exclaimed, clearly not expecting his playful banter to backfire in such a hilarious way.

Jungwoo, still clinging to his shoulder, cackled. “Not when you’re out here pulling bikini strings, hyung!”

Mark, always quick to join in, dove into the pool with a dramatic splash, sending water flying in every direction. “Aight, Spidermark is here!” he said, striking a playful pose as he resurfaced, looking every bit the superhero he claimed to be.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your sulkiness fading completely as you watched the boys defend your honor in the most ridiculous, over-the-top way. They were fully committed, attacking Jaehyun with all their might. 

“You guys are insane,” you said between giggles, thoroughly entertained by the sight of Jaehyun desperately trying to escape their grip.

As the playful chaos continued, Johnny and Yuta strolled in from the clubhouse, towels slung over their shoulders with their drinks in hand. They stopped short at the edge of the pool, watching Jaehyun getting tag-teamed by Haechan, Mark, and Jungwoo.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, watching Jaehyun flail in the middle of the water as Haechan and Mark relentlessly splashed him. “What did I miss? A full-blown mutiny?”

“You had one job, Jaehyun. One. Job.” Yuta chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the railing. Johnny, always the protector, grinned, clearly amused by the antics going on in the water. 

Haechan, clinging to Jaehyun’s back like a koala, yelled, “And that job was to behave! But nooo, horny hyung was activated!”

Johnny gave Jaehyun a mock salute. “Prayers up, bro. You’re on your own.”

Jaehyun, who had been trying to dodge the attacks, was now surrounded, his laughter mixing with their playful taunts. And somewhere behind them, Mark let out a maniacal laugh as he cannonballed onto Jaehyun again.

“You’re done for, hyung!” Haechan laughed, sending another wave of water in Jaehyun’s direction.

The pool had officially become a splash battleground, and Jaehyun? Completely outnumbered. The members had him cornered, every time Jaehyun tried to break free, someone pulled him back—Haechan grabbing his arm, Jungwoo pushing from behind, Mark drowning him with splashes. 

Taeyong looked every bit the disappointed parent. “Ten bucks says he tries to bribe us for backup in the next five minutes.”

“Five?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow. “I bet he’ll start crying in three.”

Johnny chuckled, leaning back against the poolside. “I give him two, tops. He’ll be begging for mercy before you even finish counting.”

Sure enough, as if on cue, Jaehyun, now fully submerged in water with Haechan clinging to his leg and Jungwoo refusing to let go of his waist, shot them a look of desperation.

You just sat there, wrapped in Taeyong’s towel, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. 

"Baby, help me please!" Jaehyun called out for you, his voice tinged with agony as he tried to wiggle free from the tangled mess of limbs in the pool.

"You deserve that!" You glanced over at him, arms crossed, trying to keep a straight face. But you couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jaehyun flashed you his best puppy-dog eyes, water dripping down his face, and his hair plastered to his forehead. "I promise I'll be good! I'll be good for you in bed tonight. Whatever you want."

The members chuckled at the absurdity. Even as he fought for his freedom in the pool, Jaehyun was still clutching onto his horny little agenda like it was a life raft.

Haechan, bobbing in the water like a smug little duck, shot Jaehyun a look. “Hyung, even when you’re drowning, the horny never dies!”

Jaehyun dramatically slapped the water, sending a splash in Haechan’s direction. “It’s not my fault I’m consistent!” he huffed, trying to untangle himself from Mark, who was now straddling his neck with his feet like he was riding a wild water buffalo.

“Consistently down bad,” Mark snorted, clinging on tighter with zero intention of letting go. “Seriously, hyung, it’s like you’re ovulating or something.”

The pool erupted with laughter. “Mark!” Doyoung choked, nearly falling backward from where he was perched on the ledge. “You can’t say that!”

“I said what I said!” Mark grinned. “I fear no man… except maybe Jaehyun’s inner thoughts.”

Johnny, now casually floating on a pool noodle, raised a hand. “Let’s be honest, Jaehyun’s inner thoughts are a public safety concern at this point.”

You, from your cozy seat at the edge of the pool, just sipped your drink and laughed. “That’s what you get for messing with me.”

“Not even a little sympathy?” Jaehyun pouted. 

You leaned back slightly, the corners of your lips twitching up as you feigned ignorance, “Sympathy? Oh baby,” you said sweetly, “you lost that privilege the second you pulled on my bikini top like it was a drawstring bag.”

Jaehyun clutched his chest like you’d stabbed him. “Wow. Betrayed by the love of my life. How heartless!” he muttered.

“You’re lucky I didn’t body slam you like Jungwoo did,” you replied dryly, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Still would’ve been worth it,” he grinned, water dripping from his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

Haechan fake gagged. “Okay. Someone please drown me in bleach. I can’t swim in this pool anymore.”

Taeyong looked skyward. “God, it’s me again. Please send stronger brain cells to our Jaehyun.”

“Down bad and defeated,” Yuta called out, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Truly tragic.”

After what felt like an eternity, Jaehyun finally slipped free from their hold as the boys began to lose steam. He dramatically flopped onto the green floatie, arms sprawled, staring up at the sky, “What’s the point of being good looking if I can’t have a little fun?”

“You’re so good looking, you forget that you also need self awareness,” you quipped, giving him a playful side eye. “It’s called balance.”

Jaehyun turned his head toward you, his grin returning, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re my balance, babe. Without you, I’d be a hot mess... actually, I’m still a hot mess, but at least you make it look good.”

“Keep going, and I might just let you keep some dignity... but don’t push it.”  you teased, crossing your arms.

Johnny, still on his pool noodle, raised a brow. “Dignity’s long gone, my guy.”

Jaehyun’s grin only widened, clearly unfazed by your playful threat. “I’m not pushing it, I’m just stating facts. I’m charmingly reckless, and you very much love it.”

“Reckless? More like dangerously clueless,” you shot back, but there was no denying the warmth in your smile.

He waggled his eyebrows. “Dangerously charming, too.”

An echo of groans and exaggerated scowls came from the boys, who were all too familiar with Jaehyun’s confidence.

“Come here, my love,” Jaehyun said, floating toward you with a dramatic flair, holding out his arms like a knight on a horse, ready to sweep you off your feet.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the amused smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such a dork,” you muttered, but the magnetic pull of his over-the-top charm was impossible to ignore.

You couldn’t resist. And just like that, you gave in, swimming towards him and joining him on the floatie. The moment you settled beside him, he wrapped an arm around you, grinning like he had just won the battle. You were equally down bad for him, and you both knew it.

"Don’t act like you weren’t already planning this," Jaehyun teased, resting his chin on your shoulder while sneakily planting kisses along your neck. "You know I’m irresistible."

“Don’t get too comfortable, keep your hands to yourself, yeah?” you said, trying to sound stern, but the soft smile on your face betrayed you. “You’re still on probation, your dick is not getting out of your pants.”

"Excuse you, we are still here!" Taeyong’s voice echoed from the edge of the pool, making everyone burst into laughter again. 

masterlist