#ft yoon

[seeunsource]

seeun and yoon x crocs x allure korea

[miraclewoozi]

ELECTRIC. - y.jh

your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms. 

pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)

smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.

the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.

jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows. 

(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)

“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 

“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”

your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.

“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”

he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for. 

in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy. 

you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.

“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”

you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying. 

“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”

he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter. 

“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”

but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”

“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.

“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”

begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.

jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him. 

he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.

“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.

“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”

“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”

he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable. 

“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”

“jeonghan–”

“y/n.”

the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)

but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.

“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”

“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”

there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.

“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.

“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”

“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.

he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.

“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.

somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.

“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”

“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him. 

“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”

“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”

jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”

“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”

“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”

you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)

“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had. 

every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.

oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…

“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…

��how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway. 

he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request. 

“please stay with me.”

if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away. 

“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.

“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow. 

“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”

“a what?”

“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.

“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”

“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”

he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale. 

“fine. you’re building it, though.”

you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.

“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.

“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”

a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.

you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.

and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?

there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.

but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation. 

with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.

you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.

a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.

“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.

“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.

you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–

“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”

“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”

“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”

“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god – 

…and heaven above, the penny drops. 

jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.

therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.

“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”

“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”

“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?

“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”

“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”

boom.

and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.

you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking –

“okay, wait. hear me out.”

to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.

“i can help you.”

your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.

“you don’t have to–”

“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”

“hannie…”

“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”

if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.

“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”

he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.

you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.

“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs. 

“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours. 

“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”

you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin. 

“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”

“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.

now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.

of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.

“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.

but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?

“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”

“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”

you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”

“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.

you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.

“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.

“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”

well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.

“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 

“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”

“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for. 

he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.

“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”

“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?” 

and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.

“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”

to his credit, he does.

and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.

the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.

within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)

every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along? 

sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.

“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”

“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”

“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”

“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.

by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.

“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies. 

“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”

you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.

“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser. 

what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.

“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is. 

“yes to what?” 

“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.

you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. 

saved for really important promises.

“to next time.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.&lt;3

[sugurugetos]

JEONGHAN FOLLOW TOUR [JAPAN '23]

[manawari]

Solo Leveling Boyband AU: internet shenanigans pt 6 (or: there is a big fan account dedicated to none other than the manager himself.)

[ft-3racha]

Hum... maybe a cute date with Keeho? 👀

THAT!!! (but make it first date)

i feel like keeho would act all chill asking you out, but would die of anxiety on the inside. cause what if they say no?

luckily (for his mental wellbeing) you don‘t - cause you‘re equally as into him as he is into you. and rightfully so, because he would get you all excited by not telling you a single thing about what he has planned.

he knows that first dates should be special, so that‘s exactly what he is planning: something special in disguise. so when you knock on his door, and he answers you dressed in a casual pair of jeans and loose button up (first two buttons undone, of course), you feel almost underdressed, seeing as he told you to arrive in very chill clothes, so you put on a pair of comfy pants and a shirt; simple, but it still makes you feel good about yourself. the biggest smile is plastered across his face, the slightest rosy tint to his cheeks, nervousness written all over his beautiful features.

inside he offeres you a drink, which you gladly accept. he takes two beer out of his fridge before leading you to his, already prepped, dining table. with dim light and a candle in the middle of the table, the room radiates a soft romantic atmosphere. „i know it‘s nothing big“, keeho says as he pulls out a chair for you to sit on, „but i didn‘t know if you would like something big, so i didn‘t go big, maybe i should‘ve-“ „it‘s perfect, keeho, don‘t you worry.“ you‘re very thankful he didn‘t look at you, otherwise he would‘ve seen the tears in your eyes.

after enjoying your dinner, and talking for a good while, you moved to the couch and decided on watching a movie together. he let you pick, and (honestly speaking) you just decided on the first thing you saw, too focused on soaking up every single one of his words: from his favorite color to how he beat up a bully in elementary and how he almost burned down his friend jiung‘s apartment just recently - you listened to it all. but it was the other way around as well; no matter what you said, keeho made sure to listen attentively, looking at you as if you are the most beautiful being he has ever seen. what you didn‘t know is that it‘s true. at one point his soft gaze shifts between your eyes and your lips, too afraid to make the first step, yet he finds himself leaning in as if his body does it on its own. and you do too, meeting him right in the middle. his big hand finds your face, palm against your cheek and thumb lightly caressing it. „i would love to kiss you. is that okay?“, he whispers, voice hoarse and barely audible. all you can do is nod, and, in the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours. you kiss him back without hesitation, his lips so soft against yours that you forget everything around you for a second. keeho deepens the kiss, scared to go too far but also unable to stop. when his hands find your hips, and yours lay down in the nape of his neck, he can‘t help himself but hoist you up on his lap.

you kiss for what feels like hours before pulling away breathlessly. keeho looks at you with adoration, lips red and beautifully swollen from passion, when you start to realize that you are sitting in his lap. „keeho“, you start carefully, „i don‘t wanna go to far.“ „me either“, he answers to your surprise, revising on his words immediately, „i mean, don‘t get me wrong, i would love to, but not now. not today. and definitely not before i can tell you how much you mean to me.“

_______

do you see the vision because i do😩

also really sorry for taking so long to answer this! i had absolutely no time to write. :(

[talistheintrovert]

The Eighth Sense post-canon drabbles because I'm so obsessed with them I'm going to chew my way through my bedframe if I don't get it out of my system.

Chapter 1: Jaewon introduces Jihyun to his friends and Taehyung doesn't understand why Jihyun gets on with everybody except him.

Read it HERE!!

[dailysoonyoung]

Hoshi Weverse Update 230118

Caption Translation: No hearts. I solved it. ❤️😆

[aishathevar]

who: aisha & closed.

where: cassidy's candies, the coast

when: march, 2024

Aisha hadn't celebrated Easter but still liked making baskets for her friends. So on an afternoon she was free, she headed to the candy shop to pick up some things. Stepping inside, she glanced around at the brightly colored candy, realizing it was busier than expected. Which was fair, because she always waited until the last minute. She didn't mind the wait though, as she stepped in line, trying to decide what to buy. Also deciding to make a bit of conversation while they waited. "So, important question-- do you have a favorite holiday candy?"

[seoul-bros]

20 Best K-pop Songs of 2023, Paste Magazine

Post Date: 24/12/2023

[jovvest]

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙤𝙧. @eloiscs ha dicho : ¡oye, cuidado con esa vela! no queremos quemar esto.

advertencia ajena es la que le hace sobresaltar, no al punto de dar un brinco, agradece que la fuente de luz se mantenga en sus manos. reconoce la voz fácilmente, no es necesario dar la vuelta para saber de quién se trata, nada más suelta una pequeña risa. ‘ ¿quién crees que soy? me has de considerar realmente malvada para quemar este castillo nuevamente. ’ bromea mientras continua rebuscando entre los lugares más recónditos, sin dar mucha explicación, aun así se atreve a preguntar: ‘ ¿qué te trae por aquí? ’

[hannihaaee]

[seeunsource]

[sumin on twt] lose all your breath and try to scream😮

[kennedyxwarren]

who: kennedy & @yoon-nyeon

where: the holiday shoppe

when: october, 2024 (hallo-week)

"Surprisingly enough, I haven't even decorated for Halloween yet," she admitted, a slight laugh escaping her lips as she dropped some pumpkin window decals into her basket. Having two back-to-back weddings hadn't been ideal, so she put off decorating, although normally her place looked festive during the fall season. She figured that even if there were only a few days left until Halloween, she still couldn't miss out. "But I couldn't be the only house on the block without decorations, doesn't seem right, does it?"

[teagvns]

*     ꗃ      unlocked   . . .   THE  YOON  FAMILY  !

TASK  002:  AMERICAN  ROYALTY  .  the  yoon  family  has  only  come  to  wealth  within  the  recent  generation  .  with  elijah  yoon  making  his  fortune  as  a  doctor  in  plastic  and  reconstructive  surgery  ,  the  younger  yoons  have  been  provided  countless  opportunities  due  to  this  newly  acquired  wealth  .  and  despite  the  wealth  this  family  has  amassed  ,  they  are  no  stranger  to  scandal  .  whispers  about  elijah  yoon’s  more  dubious  medical  practices  exist  .  rumored  of  course  .  and  then  there’s  genevieve  dupont's  sudden  departure  to  france  just  years  after  paige's  birth  .  no  explanation  .  no  divorce  .  just  two  individuals  living  separate  lives  despite  still  being  legally  married  .  and  while  this  might’ve  been  a  quiet  scandal  among  the  upper  east  side  social  circle  ,  nepoupdates  has  caught  wind  and  publicized  it  .  

family  members  include:  elijah  yoon  ,  genevieve  dupont  ,  peter  “eight”  yoon  (  eldest  son  )  ,  teagan  yoon  (  eldest  daughter  )  ,  paige  yoon  (  youngest  daughter  ,  HALF-siblings  to  teagan  &  eight  )  .

@nepofminspo  ,  @dearpaige  ,  @drearieds

OOC NOTES.

this  task  specifically  dives  into  the  dynamics  between  teagan  and  her  family  in  order  to  provide  the  reader  with  ooc  information  beyond  what’s  known  in-character   .  the  in-character  vanity  fair  article  is  a  positive  profile  on  the  yoon  family  and  their  rise  within  the  upper  east  side  social  scene  .  it  doesn’t  touch  upon  any  of  the  more  scandalous  rumors  about  the  yoons  and  mainly  focuses  on  their  successes  within  their  respective  fields  of  work  .

DYNAMICS .

teagan  &  elijah.    let’s  confirm  one  thing  .  teagan  absolutely  despises  her  father  .  it  wasn’t  always  this  way  .  but  that’s  how  it  is  now  .  for  the  first  five  years  of  her  life  ,  she  was  definitely  daddy’s  little  girl  .  elijah  actually  paid  attention  to  her  .  but  the  arrival  of  her  younger  sister  resulted  in  a  sudden  shift  in  their  dynamic  .  teagan  no  longer  associates  her  father  with  the  loving  and  attentive  man  he  once  was  .  their  relationship  over  the  years  have  been  fraught  with  tension  .  with  elijah  focusing  his  attention  on  paige  ,   teagan  did  her  best  to  earn  her  father’s  approval  .  maybe  she’ll  finally  get  an  ounce  of  attention  .  however  ,  the  need  for  approval  turns  to  resentment  and  everything  teagan  did  was  in  spite  of  her  father  .  she  knows  she’s  not  the  favorite  .  and  knows  better  than  to  rely  on  him  to  actually  show  up  much  less  hold  a  conversation  that  doesn’t  involve  comparing  herself  to  paige  .  as  sad  as  it  is  ,  she’s  convinced  that  her  father  doesn’t  love  her  .  he  looks  at  her  as  if  she’s  a  stranger  .  like  she  isn’t  his  first-born  daughter  .

teagan  &  genevieve.    between  her  mother  and  father  ,  teagan  very  much  prefers  her  mother  .  where  her  father  lacks  ,  her  mother  makes  up  for  it  .  while  paige  is  elijah’s  favorite  ,  teagan  is  genevieve’s  .  and  it’s  not  exactly  by  choice  .  when  the  parent  you  live  with  wants  nothing  to  do  with  you  ,  you  turn  to  the  parent  who  does  .  despite  living  in  france  ,  genevieve  is  still  involved  in  every  aspect  of  teagan’s  life  .  and  maybe  it’s  the  favoritism  that  blinds  her  to  the  way  her  mother  treats  paige  as  if  she’s  distant  family  .  but  she  likes  the  attention  .  likes  that  her  mother  supports  her  .  she’ll  take  any  opportunity  to  spend  more  time  with  her  mother  .  although  in  recent  years  ,  it’s  become  challenging  due  to  her  schedule  .  but  teagan  won’t  shy  away  from  crediting  her  mother  for  fueling  and  supporting  her  ambitions  .

teagan  &  eight.    they  playfully  bicker  .  they’re  unafraid  to  voice  their  opinions  to  one  another  .  and  he’s  probably  one  of  the  few  people  that  can  get  away  with  calling  out  her  dysfunctional  relationship  with  her  and  paige  .  teagan  fully  trusts  eight  and  wouldn’t  hesitate  to  go  to  him  for  advice  (  and  yes  ,  she  expects  the  side  of  sass  first  before  he  spews  anything  helpful  )  .  teagan  views  eight  as  an  equal  .  someone  who  can  actively  deal  with  their  crazy  family  and  knows  how  much  of  a  HEADACHE  their  father  can  be  .  and  understands  why  herself  and  paige  act  the  way  they  do  when  it  comes  to  dealing  with  their  parents  .  she  won’t  hesitate  to  be  he  shoulder  he  can  lean  on  should  he  need  it  .

teagan  &  paige.    they’re  five  years  apart  in  age  and  their  relationship  is  …  complicated  .  with  paige  being  favored  by  her  father  and  teagan  being  favored  by  her  mother  ,  the  two  have  been  pit  against  each  other  for  as  long  as  they  can  remember  .  paige  sees  her  in  direct  competition  with  her  older  sister  .  it’s  sad  .  while  they’re  family  ,  paige  and  teagan  are  more  akin  to  strangers  than  they  are  sisters  .  moments  when  they  do  in  fact  act  like  a  family  are  far  and  few  .  and  when  it  happens  ,  both  refuse  to  acknowledge  that  such  a  moment  was  shared  .  teagan  isn’t  blind  to  paige’s  hostility  and  part  of  her  knows  that  her  younger  sister  won’t  have  her  back  .  the  two  are  very  different  .  and  it’s  obvious  .  with  teagan’s  more  standoffish  demeanor  and  paige’s  loud  personality  ,  it’s  no  surprise  which  of  the  two  yoon  sisters  people  prefer  to  spend  their  time  with  .  she  knows  paige  is  the  more  preferred  relative  even  amongst  extended  family  .  and  as  of  late  ,  teagan  finds  herself  wanting  to  repair  this  relationship  .  she  wants  to  be  an  older  sister  to  paige  .  and  while  she’s  never  voiced  it  ,  she  does  support  her  younger  sister  .  unfortunately  ,  part  of  her  also  believes  it  might  be  too  late  due  to  years  of  shared  animosity  .

[manawari]

Weretiger!Yoon-ho

The thin, cold air whirled through the trees, and the trickling stream from the nearby river whispered in the serene atmosphere of the forest. His boots crunched the dried leaves underneath him that littered the ground. Yoon-ho held a couple of twigs and branches in his arms as he walked to his designated camping area, he headed to the center to place them for the fire tonight, then he looked up and noticed the tent was empty.

A sharp pang struck his heart and he was about to look around when two little arms were thrown around his neck, along with a bit of weight on his back.

"Got you, papa!" An adorable voice laughed.

He couldn't resist to chuckle. "What did I say about running away when I'm not around, Mi-ho?"

"I wasn't that too far!" Mi-ho said as she got off. She pointed at the boulder next to the river in a few feet away. "I'm just playing around over there and checking for some fish."

"We'll catch some fish later, yeah?" Yoon-ho flashed his daughter a tender smile and patted her head with his hand.

"But can we play now, papa?" Mi-ho blinked her eyes in wonder.

"Of course."

The forest was his second home. When the human life was bringing him too much pressure, nature would summon him to be at ease. And now that he had a little one under his wing, Yoon-ho would want to raise his daughter knowing the forest as much as he did. Baek Mi-ho was a carefree young soul, more lively than he was when he was in her age, and already had that determination in her veins.

Yoon-ho made sure she was guarded the best way he knew, and mayhaps learn a thing or two on how to deal with potential enemies in her life. Mi-ho was already a tough child and the only best treasure he received when his ex-wife left him out of the blue.

When the sun came down, the father and daughter were settled next to the fire Yoon-ho had lit up. Mi-ho greedily devoured on her roasted fish they had captured earlier. Yoon-ho even had to tie her hair up to prevent it from sticking to the flesh. The fire crackled and danced under the cold atmosphere of the rich night, silence roamed the forest with gentle breezes to rustle the trees as hidden creatures hide within the shadows.

Later on, he set his drowsy daughter under the blankets of their tent. He gently ran his fingers through her soft waves as she snuggled in the pillows, smiling at her serene state, and then suddenly, she jolted up.

"My teddy!" Mi-ho exclaimed.

"Calm down, little fox, I'm pretty sure you left it outside." Yoon-ho told her. "You really can't sleep without it, huh?"

"You're the one who gave it to me, papa," said Mi-ho and grabbed her fox plushie. "Foxie won't be able to sleep either."

"Alright." Yoon-ho chuckled and got out of the tent. He made his way to the log and took the white tiger plushie, brushing his hand over the faux fur to remove any dirt, then headed back to the tent. And as expected, his daughter was still awake with her fox teddy on her lap. "Here you go."

Mi-ho beamed a smile and brought it to her chest. She laid back to the cushions and Yoon-ho moved the covers over once again. He pressed his lips on her forehead, whispering his good night before leaving the tent. Yoon-ho flashed one last look at his sleeping child and closed the tent as he sat in front of the fire.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket to read the message that was sent to him this afternoon when he was busy playing with his daughter;

[ Another tiger didn't survive this time, sir. The vets said it had poison in its system. ]

His grip on the device tightened. Yoon-ho brought the screen to his ear after contacting his subordinate. "What about the other tigers?"

"Good evening, sir. Yes, the other tigers are doing all right. Even the pregnant one has begun to move leisurely."

"Good."

"But, sir? I am quite curious on how concerned you are over these beasts. This company doesn't even specialize in wild animals."

"Animals are just like humans." He said to the other line. "They have a future ahead of them. Like me, they are connected to the wilderness. And besides," his lips stretch into a smile, "my daughter hasn't seen any of them yet. It will break her heart if she finds out that their population keeps decreasing."

"Understood, sir."

The call ended. Yoon-ho stashed his phone to his pocket and and stared up at the sky. Faint stars freckled the deep blue shell. He always wondered if forests were ever as deep and vast as the sky. . . How beastly the creatures would be?

A rifle's roar rumbled the air. The branches jerked at the impact of the sound. The bushes rustled while the hunter lowered his firearm and scoffed, he tipped the cigarette between his lips and cocked his rifle. There were plenty of big cats hidden in this territory, specifically that stripped feline whose fur had enraptured millions across the globe.

Six hunters dispersed around the area. The bright flashlight they attached in the tree watched their movement. It would be easy for them to catch a glimpse of their prey with this. No animal would be able to hide in this level of brightness.

Suddenly, the flashlight fell to the ground. One of the hunters quickly rushed back to pick it up and noticed the band that was attached around it was torn. How was this possible? Could there be— a beast behind the trees?

"Uh. . . " He turned to his comrades. "Guys? I thi— AH!" Something lunged at him from the shadows and brought him behind the bushes next to another tree.

All the hunters whirled around. The bushes violently rustled. Two of them walked closer, cocking their firearms as they were prepared to shoot. Regardless of whatever state their companion was now, they must go for the kill. . .

The creature sprung out.

Another hunter was attacked and sharp jaws latched at his neck, clawing deeply at the shoulders. The hunter whimpered in fear, yet still moved his rifle into position and clumsily placed his finger in the trigger.

Unfortunately, it was too late. The creature, a large white tiger, pounced at him and struck its bloodied teeth on his entire face, biting deep enough to break the skull. Three hunters down. . . Two more two go. A bullet shot the ground next to the beast, which quickly gained the tiger's attention whilst the human beneath its powerful paws laid dead.

"You're dead to me!" The hunter yelled angrily.

With a guttural growl, the tiger took a few steps forward and its eyes glowed in bright gold as it got up as light surrounded its body, morphing into another form. More vicious, more monstrous form. Its front claws shifted into like a human's, yet sharper and larger. It had turned into a man. A man rich of muscles and had the head of a beast, his mane lit like a large white flame above the three black streaks on his head. He stared at the remaining hunters like prey who had stumbled upon his territory.

With the hunters clouded with fear, the humane beast grabbed the rifle and crushed it with his own bare hand. Then he slammed the back of his claw at the hunter to send him flying across the ground. He turned to the last one.

Bullets came piercing at his body. But not a single one pierced a hole. The beast walked toward the hunter as the human kept shooting at him even though it was a futile option now.

When there were no shots firing out, the hunter threw the rifle away and quickly turned around to run away. But a strong grip grabbed his neck. He squirmed until he was thrown to the ground just like the other hunter. An enormous foot crushed his chest, which somehow made it difficult for him to breathe.

They had messed with the wrong beast.

Unbeknownst to him, the first hunter whom he shoved away managed to get on his feet and scampered. But that was the least of his problems. He expected that at least one would be able to escape from his claws.

Moreover, it was a warning. A warning that they must never forget.

If humans hurt a creature that wasn't harming them firsthand, the forest would retaliate tenfold. And there was an old belief from the beast's country. . . If a tiger had been through many obstacles and eventually came to understand the true meaning of life, the fur would turn white.

. . . And the tiger became a sacred spirit.

[spellbcok]

for yoon chiwoo. @youllalwaysbemyporcelain — 6: the husks of corn emit a poisonous gas, making characters weaker the longer they breath it in

when yeonseo saw the maze pop up she had little interest in exploring it. if anything, it was a bit of nuisance for her. she had to walk all the way around it to get to work. and now here she was, with no choice and lost. at least she wasn’t the only one, she thought to herself. even if they seemed far more eager to leave the maze than she was. “can you slow down?” yeonseo asked. “some of us have shorter legs,” she said mostly as an excuse in an attempt to cover up how uncharacteristically tired she was. for a vampire who drank just that morning this was particularly concerning, but yeonseo didn't want to make a big deal out of that when there were larger issues at hand.