meltingmidas

[meltingmidas]

oh shit, are we in love? || Jongho (m.)

🏀 pairing ⇢ cheerleader! (fem) reader x best friend/basketball player! Jongho

🏀 summary ⇢ you’ve called Jongho your best friend all your life. You were attached at the hip for ages, and even as you take on college together. With no other relationship experience other than with him, when you decide to go after a cute classmate, you look to Jongho for some help. Asking him to practice “things” with you seemed like nothing—that is, until kissing him made you think that you couldn’t kiss anyone else.

🏀 genre/au ⇢ best friends to lovers, college au, smut, fluff

🏀 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, oral sex (male recieving), cum shot, Jongho is a virgin, also is a slut for y/n, drinking, mentions of knee injury, best friends to lovers, college love, cheerleader x basketball player

🏀 word count ⇢ 15.8k (so sorry I just couldnt stop)

🏀 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

spotify playlist

When you were kids, Jongho gave you a ring—a ring made out of straw paper he kept after a trip to get milkshakes after school.

With the paper straw ring, he stuck it on your ring finger. The wrong one, but that didn't matter to him, anyway. He declared to you that he would marry you someday. Someday, whatever that meant to a young kid. With the ring already on your finger, you couldn't exactly decline his proposal, so you just shrugged and told him, “Why not?”

At seventeen, you went to prom together. Not because you liked each other, no. Because it was convenient, it made sense. How could you go with someone else? You wore a beautiful red gown, Jongho matching you with a patterned red tie. You had a great time, went home together, and nearly kissed at your doorstep—you didn't think too much of it. You blamed it on the atmosphere. So did he.

You sat at your desk in your cramped dorm room, your bed pushed up on the left side of the room and a mess of pillows and blankets covering it. 

Suddenly, as you were finally getting to the good part in your book, Jongho barged into your room, dropping his basketball bag onto the floor with a groan. He tossed his slides off, not even meeting your gaze before walking like a zombie towards your messy bed, throwing himself on top.

“Well hello to you too,” you blinked, losing your page in your book. “Get out of my damn bed, you're sweaty as fuck.”

He huffed, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, staring up at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. “Leave me be. My roommate is fucking some chick right now. I just need to lay down.”

“San seems like he gets around a lot,” you scoffed, picking up your book again. You were currently reading a very, very smutty book—although you were supposed to be studying your literature anthology text for the exam you had in the morning. You flipped a page. 

“Oh, he does,” Jongho sniffed. You looked over at him, his cut-off t-shirt revealing a good bit of skin on his side, his sweat gleaming on his body. “I mean, practice just ended. He had to have the damn girl in there even before he got back. It’s ridiculous.”

He sat up now, putting his back against his headboard. He winced a bit as he moved, his hand going to the brace around his knee.

You paused, completely forgetting the smut you were reading. “What is it? Is it hurting again?”

“Just a little, it’s no biggie.” Jongho offered you a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Don't give me that look, y/n. I hurt it a while ago. It's normal for it to ache occasionally.”

Back in your senior year, he tore his ACL before the season, causing him to never have his final year of basketball. He was a mess, but at least he had you. He got surgery, had physical therapy, but yet, he still has pain to this day.

You met his eyes for a moment, sighing when that gorgeous smile of his poked through his lips. “Fine, fine. Just get outa here when you can. I got some…important things to do alone tonight.”

He furrowed his brows, confused. “What could you possibly…..oh,” he shut his eyes painfully. “Please, I don't want to imagine it.” He scooted back down on the bed and tossed your blanket on top of him. “My eyes, my eyes.”

“Oh, shut up, you pussy.” You set your book down, crossing your legs. “A girl gotta live out her fantasies somehow, alright?”

“La la la,” he repeated, trying his best to ignore the conversation. “I don't wanna hear it.”

You let out a chuckle, stood up from your seat, and tossed yourself onto the bed with him, tackling him as he thrashed from your grip.

“Stop it, stop it,” he groaned, wriggling away from your hands as you tickled him. He giggled, childlike. You giggled right along with him, not even caring about the damn sweat that coated his skin, his clothes. You tangled together under the blanket, and after a good couple minutes of a tickle fight, you grabbed your laptop to watch your favorite TV show.

Jongho stayed under the blankets with you, his leg strewn on top of your body, his head in the crook of your neck as you watched the show together. He let out a few snide comments—earning a slap from you, but he just chuckled and nuzzled closer into you.

And after a few episodes, he fell asleep on you, legs tangled in yours, your arm wrapped around him.

—

“Dude, you wouldn't answer your phone last night,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stuffed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Do you literally have a new bitch every night?”

You and your friends were sitting at a table in the dining hall, munching on some lunch before you had class. Wooyoung, San, and Mingi sat across from you and Jongho, all of them in workout gear—they were going to the gym after lunch.

“Listen, last night wasn't even that good,” San hummed dully, taking a sip of his protein shake. “She was too damn loud—”

“I thought you liked them whiny,” Mingi deadpanned.

San’s eyes narrowed on the giant. “Your point? She was loud, not whiny—there’s a difference.” San looked to Jongho now, a slight smirk on his pretty little lips. “Where’d you go? You could've joined us.”

Jongho waved his hands sporadically. “No, no, I’d rather not, thank you.”

San huffed playfully, eyes dancing to you. They glimmered knowingly. “Ah, you’d rather be in her bed, right?” he nodded his head towards you, earning a harsh glare from Jongho.

“So what if I'm in her bed, it’s not like we do anything.” Jongho’s eyes went frantic, and his fists balled. “We’ve always slept with each other—wait, that came out wrong—”

“What he’s trying to say is that we’ve slept in the same bed since we were little, that nothing is ever gonna happen,” you interjected, crossing your arms across your chest.

San laughed at that. “Ah yeah, that nothing’s gonna happen, gotcha,” he said, taking the last sip of his protein shake. I’m going to the gym if you guys are ready. Jongho, y/n, you coming?”

You shook your head, but stood up with everyone else, anyway. “I have class, but you guys have fun. I’ll walk out with you.”

As you and your friends left the dining hall, the cool, winter air breezed through you, sending chills down your spine. Your winter coat wasn't enough. You shoved your hands into your pockets, walking stiffly next to jongho, who simply—possibly even without thinking, tossed his arm around your shoulder, warming you up instantly. Your friends continued to talk and carry on, and you snuggled up into Jongho’s warm side.

—

Class was a bore. As per usual. The spring semester had just started, and the new classes you had were far from entertaining. Anything to get through school, though.

As you packed up your things, a phone fell from the seat in front of you, landing right by your feet. You picked it up, but when the person was no longer sitting there, you quickly tossed your bag over your shoulder to follow him.

“Hey, excuse me!” you huffed, chasing after the guy—damn, his legs were long. He moved way too fast for you. “Your phone….dude!��� you finally reached him, tapping him on the shoulder, only for the most gorgeous man to grace the earth to turn around.

You forced yourself to keep your jaw from falling to the floor as you met his dark eyes. His hair was even darker, his lips a soft pink, curling up slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, holding up the phone. “But you dropped this.”

The pretty guy blinked, smirking. The classroom emptied as you stood staring at each other, oblivious to the professor giving you a side-eye as he left.

“I don't think that’s mine,” he said blandly, but his eyes glimmered mischievously. He looked a bit older—definitely older than you, at least.

You furrowed your brows, looking at the phone in your hands. “I could've sworn you were the one sitting in front of me,” you wondered, confused. You pushed it forward into his chest. “Just take it I don't have time to find the owner if it's not yours.”

He smiled down at you, his thick eyebrows raising. “I won't take it.”

“Why the hell not?” your patience was running thin—you had to get the cheer practice. This stupidly pretty guy was not allowed to make you late. You were not running laps. Not today. 

You were about to just shove it into his pockets until his mouth opened. “Not without your number.”

You frowned. “Is that….is that supposed to be a pickup line?”

He shrugged. “If you want it to be, then yes.”

God, the smile this damn boy had. You were gonna crumble under his gaze like some schoolgirl, but you kept your cool.

His eyes were so bright, so clear. He was tall, much taller than you, much older. You watched as he looked around, away from you. “If not, then I’ll just take the phone back—”

“No, no,” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the phone in your hands. “You just…you’ll just need to unlock it.”

He smiled gorgeously. “I can do that.”

He took the phone, typed in a few numbers, and gave it right back to you. “What’s your name?” 

“y/n,” you hummed, forcing your blush away. This was the first time you had been asked for your number, the first time a guy other than Jongho or your friends had looked at you. “You?”

“Seonghwa,” the pretty boy smiled, a name now to the face. You couldn't help but grin at his expression—and the utter insanity that just happened. It was totally random; a pretty guy asking for your number? That’s never happened in all your years. Never. 

“If I ask to buy you a coffee,” he started as you fumbled on your phone number. “Would you say yes?”

“Depends,” you shrugged, unable to look up at him. “If you get me food, too.”

“Deal.” Goddamn, that smile, those teeth. “Tomorrow, after class? Before class?”

You bit your lip, handing the phone back to him. “Before, I have practice after class.” actually, you had practice like, right now. You probably looked crazy, eyes wide as you realized where you needed to be. “I gotta go—speaking of which—”

Before you could leave, he called for you. “Hey, where should we meet?”

“Outside the library?” you tossed out, hoping he answered hastily. 

He nodded, giving you that smile once again. 

“Perfect.”

—

You were in bed after practice, and Jongho was sitting quietly on your desk chair, slowly taking off his knee brace and hissing. 

“God, this thing sucks,” he groaned, the velcro tearing as he peeled it off. The brace was like a metal cage, going from his thigh to his lower calf, looking like a deathtrap.

“And it stinks,” you mumbled dramatically, staring up at your ceiling, hands folded on your stomach as your mind wandered. You sat up quickly, startling your best friend. 

“What? What is it?” he spat out, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You just sat up like a goddamn zombie.”

“If, let’s just say, hypothetically,” you wondered, looking out into space. “That I got asked out on a date to a coffee shop, how would I dress?”

Jongho’s eyes widened. “You got asked out? You?” he asked incredulously.

You scoffed, looking over at him with a playful sneer. “Is that so hard to believe?”

He laughed, finally taking off his brace and setting it on the side of your desk. “Oh yeah—y/n, you’ve never once gone on a date in all of our years of friendship. It's shocking.”

You blinked at him, gripping a pillow from behind you and tossing it at him. Of course, he caught it. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Okay, but for real,” you groaned, shifting to get comfy again. “You’ve been on some dates, how did the girls usually dress for them? Did you ever go on a coffee date—”

“Who’s the guy?” he huffed out, completely ignoring your worries.

You flattened your lips. “Does that matter?”

“Uh, yeah. What if the guy is a scumbag?” Jongho leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms. 

“He’s definitely not a scumbag,” you sighed, thinking of how dreamy he looked, missing Jongho’s worried expression. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”

You couldn't figure out the look on your best friend’s face. He knitted his brows, his eyes raising to yours. “Just dress normally,” he spoke softly. “When’s your date?”

“Tomorrow.” You hopped off your bed and walked towards your closet across from Jongho. He followed you as you moved and hesitated to look as you tore off your top, leaving you standing in your sports bra.

Jongho gulped but rolled his eyes playfully. “Why do you always undress in front of me?” His eyes naturally dropped to your hips as you slid off your sweatpants. “I am a man, too, you know.”

“Pfft, man, my ass,” you turned your back to him as he tried his best not to look. You grabbed a t-shirt—his t-shirt that you kept from a while ago—and tossed it on. You didn't even bother with pants.

Jongho gave you a look as you turned to face him. “My shirt? Really?” He groaned, mouth parted as he looked at you. “Where the hell are your pants?”

“I don't like pants.”

“Then put shorts on—”

“Is it a crime to sleep in my underwear? God, at least I have something on, dammit.” you walked past him and hopped back onto your bed. “I could be completely naked—this is my room, remember?”

Jongho didn't change his expression—he blinked at you while you sat on the bed, bare-legged, the skin up to the top of your thigh visible. He took in a gulp. “I, uh, I got an assignment due at midnight. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

You shrugged and shuffled into bed to get comfy. “Have fun with that, babycakes,” you said, giving him a wink, but he ignored it and left your room without another look.

—

Maybe it was a bad idea to wear jeans on a day like today.

A day when you woke up painfully bloated, bleeding, and aching from your period. Out of all the days, you had to get it today. 

You stood outside the library, your back against the red brick building. You wore a cute pink top with the flared jeans you were struggling with, and you added a cute little bow to hold your hair back.

You saw Seonghwa walk up to you. His lower half was also dawned in wonderfully-fitting jeans. They hugged his thighs, loosening a bit at his knees, and fell over a pair of sparkling clean white sneakers that looked like they were worth more than your car. 

The white shirt was also slim against his lean frame. You held back any reaction you had like a damn cat in heat. “Hey,” he started as he neared. “Ready to go? We can go to the coffee shop on campus since we have class coming up.”

You nodded, hoping to god the smile on your face was not grimace-like. 

“Yep, let’s go.”

You sat with your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as Seonghwa waited for your drinks. You looked over at him, watching his figure lean against the closest wall, how his long, long legs looked in those damn pants, how his fingers tapped against his arm as he waited. You barely knew him, nothing much other than knowing his name and now his coffee order, and you wondered what it would be like to get to know him. 

When he sat down in front of you, he handed you your coffee, a bright, blinding smile on his face. “I pegged you as the type to like ridiculously flavored seasonal drinks….” he paused, smirking, as you froze mid-sip on your….seasonal drink. Highly, highly sugary seasonal drink. “Guess I’m a good judge of character.”

You swallowed the party of sugar and cinnamon before giving him a shy smile. “I’m a sucker for them, to be honest.”

You sat quietly for a good while, sipping on your drink, him sipping on his. The feeling was…nice. However, you were a bit anxious as he looked at you, at your lips, as you drank from the straw. 

“You’re a cheerleader for the basketball team, right?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere—besides class, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yep, I cheer for the basketball team,” you took another sip of your drink. “Do you play? I think I would've seen you before, though.”

“Actually,” he started, offering you a kind smile. “I just transferred in from another university. I start official practice today, but I’ve been to many games already.”

Oh, so he’d seen you and known that you were on the cheer squad even before he approached you?

Cute. 

“Oh, wow,” you smiled, leaning closer without realizing it. “So, will you be playing in the next game, then?”

“Yes,” he looked ecstatic, like he can't wait. “We’ll see how much playing time I actually get, though. Those guys are very good—”

“Oh, I know!” you didn't mean to interrupt him, but you would take any chance to brag about your Jongho. “My best friend is the point guard.”

“You know Jongho?” Seonghwa smiled, but it looked a bit weary. “He’s a great guy.”

“He really is.” you took a large sip of your coffee, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as you did it. His gaze fluttered to your lips once more, and he licked his own. 

He tapped against the wooden table. “Would you….want to do this again?”

You raised your brows. “This? You mean, getting coffee?”

“Not exactly,” he blinked, letting out a little chuckle. “Anything, just…we can hang out more, if you're down with that.”

Your heart fluttered a bit. “Ah, yeah, I would like that.”

He smiled. “Good,” he looked at the clock on the wall near your seat. “We gotta get to class.”

“Class, yeah, that’s right,” you were lost in his gaze, not even realizing how captivating his entire being was. You followed him out of the coffee shop, walking next to each other, until you got to the classroom.

He took the seat next to you this time, and you were beginning to suffocate from the feeling of his body being so close.

—

“I think I’m doomed.”

Jongho, like always, is in your room when you come back from practice. He sat up from his lazy position on your bed, eyebrows raised.

“Why’s that?”

You huffed, tossing your cheer bag onto the floor next to your desk. “What if he kisses me? I’ve never kissed anyone, fuck, I bet I’ll look like a fish trying to gulp fucking water—”

“God, you’ve been here for not even a minute, and you're blabbing on like a maniac already.” He blinked, his face deadpanned as he looked at you. “Why are you so concerned? Did the date go well?”

You groaned dramatically, tossing off your sneakers, and balancing yourself on the back of your desk chair. “He asked me for another date, but I know damn well what that means, and I can't let him find out that I am a twenty-something-year-old virgin that’s only ever kissed books and my mother.”

Jongho looked like he was about to burst out laughing at your desperate words, biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to squeak out, “Oh, I think you’re a lost cause,” he giggled. Giggled.

“This is not funny. You're no help,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you walked to your closet—when a perfect idea came to you. 

“Wait a damn minute–”

“What is it now?” Jongho sat up on your bed, legs dangling off the side.

You turned around sharply, facing him, eyes wide with mischief. His eyes widened at your expression.

“Lend me your lips,” you said, walking up to him, but he leaned back in confusion, his arms holding himself behind him.

“What?” He scoffed, unable to meet your gaze. “The hell do you mean?”

You leaned over him on the bed, him unable to lean any further back without falling. You held yourself up on both sides of him. “Oh, come on. Just once. You can help me learn how to kiss. Who else could?”

He furrowed his brows. “You’re crazy.”

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I’d rather die than embarrass myself.”

“You do know,” He started, letting out a sigh. “That friends don't kiss each other? Or did you miss that memo?”

“I swear it won't mean anything,” you pleaded, knowing you were acting crazy, immature, whatever. 

Jongho huffed, leaning forward, but grabbing your shoulders to move you away. “Listen,” he sighed, meeting your eyes. “Why don't you go ask San or Mingi?”

“Because San scares me,” you shrugged. “He’d probably eat me. And Mingi is….Mingi….”

“What does that even mean—”

“For fuck’s sake, Jongie,” you grabbed his shoulders. “Is this asking too much? We’ve been best friends for so long. How would something so trivial as a kiss mess with it?”

Jongho looked like he had something to say—a lot to say, actually. But he stayed quiet, sighing, as he looked up at you from his seated position on the bed.  

“Okay, but if I have to kiss someone as filthy as you,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What do I get out of it?”

You hummed. “Hmm. well, what do you want?”

He smiled mischievously. “Do my paper for me. For my lit class.”

“Easy, done,” you leaned forward. “Now gimme your lips—”

“Ah ah ah, slow down,” he scoffed. “You can't just toss yourself into the kiss. You have to lead into it.”

“Got it,” you blinked, looking into his golden brown eyes, noticing how…nice they were. “How do I do that?”

“Well, I bet he’ll try to kiss you first,” Jongho ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair, matching his eyes. You took note of it, too. He stood up, causing you to subconsciously step away from him. You both now stood in the middle of your dorm room, the room dimly lit by your desk lamp, the warm hue coloring the tanned skin of his face.

“Okay,” you nodded, almost freaking yourself out for noticing his details, the slight curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead. 

Jongho’s calloused hand slowly, hesitantly, moved towards your face. You watched his eyes as his fingertips brushed your skin, watching them scrunch, watching them focus on his movements. “Maybe he’d hold you like this,” he spoke softly, eyes jumping to yours, his hand twitching slightly.

“But what do I do?” you weakly jutted out, biting the corner of your bottom lip. “Do I…touch you—touch him, too?”

He shrugged, swallowing hard. “I mean, you do what comes naturally.”

He was so close. So close. It's not like you’ve never been closer to him, because you have, but something was suffocating. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to feel.

You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes, those….sparkling, pretty eyes. You swallowed as his hand slid down to your chin, tilting it up softly.

There was an unknown emotion dancing in his gaze. You were extremely aware of the spark that was setting off from his touch. 

He leaned in closer, and as he got closer and closer, you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest. You heard it in your ears, felt your stomach tighten. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said hushedly. You noticed that the tips of his ears were flushed red, and a dusting of the color was across his cheeks. When he pressed his lips to yours, you widened your eyes from the feeling, then shut them to savor it.

His mouth moved across yours, you felt the warmth of his lips, the softness of them. His other hand—the one that wasn't holding onto your chin, rested around your hip, his grip tightening. 

You froze under his lips, unsure of how to do this. You moved your mouth against his, then, trying to move with his movements. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, unsure of what to do with them if you didn't do that. You felt a small smile in his kiss.

You pressed your body into him as his lips parted against yours. You felt the soft tickle of his shaky breaths against your skin—you could only imagine what you felt like to him.

He parted from you, only slightly, and took a sharp inhale. You still had your eyes shut tight, lips parted, as you got lost in the feeling. 

You opened them, meeting his gaze, meeting that heart-shattering look he had. His lips were red like his ears, like his cheeks. His eyes were hazy, his hands still on you. You felt your heart crumbling inside you. 

Without another word, you leaned back up to him, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He shut his eyes, and let out a pleasured sound, stirring something, awakening something inside.

You kissed him this time, even knowing that you had no idea what you were doing. You just trusted these instincts you were feeling, the emotions that were overtaking your mind. Your body told you to part your lips against his sweet lips, to savor the slightly salty taste against them. To lean into his body. You couldn't help but allow yourself to touch his waist, gliding your hand down his abs, his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch. 

He sighed into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist, his fingertips brushing the bare skin under your blouse. His lips felt so good, so soft, so electrifying. This feeling was unlike any other, you were beginning to lose your breath, your senses, your mind.

And when you let out a little moan—without intending to, you were shocked back to reality. You pulled away from him quickly, moving your hands to your sides, trying to catch your breath. Jongho was also huffing, begging for oxygen, as he stood in front of you. His lips were bright red now; his eyes were wide.

“Ah, um,” you cleared your throat, forcing out a laugh. “So, did I do a good job?”

Jongho blinked, still looking out of it. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, nodded, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mhm. For your first kiss, you did good.” 

Good? Good? God, that felt euphoric. Like you were drugged, high, out in space. You still couldn't get your heartbeat to slow. “Great.” That was all you managed to squeak out, now that you were suddenly aware of the ability to just kiss him again. You realized that the air was odd now, that something felt different. 

“You tasted like sweat,” you playfully added, letting out an awkward laugh as you gave him a shoulder punch. “Maybe I should've kissed San or Mingi instead.”

“I am a great kisser, I’ll have you know—” Jongho boasted, but you interrupted him. 

“Pfft,” you waved a hand as if you weren't just about to hyperventilate from his kiss, his touch. “You sucked, you’re a horrible teacher—”

“Oh?” he huffed, gripping your arms just below your elbows. “I’ll kiss you again, I’ll prove it, I’ll do you one better—”

“Fine! More practice for me, anyway.”

Jongho let out a grumble of incoherent words before grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing his mouth to yours once more, his lips gliding against yours. 

You grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tightening your grip as he pushed his tongue through your lips, into your mouth. You let out a sigh as he did it, his fingertips gripping your hair on the back of your head.

After a long few minutes of eating each other, He pulled away this time. He let go of you, his hands falling at his sides. “There,” he breathed. “Now you know how to handle a kiss like that. You know, just in case.”

You licked your bottom lip, sparks still flying around your body. You tasted him still, the saltiness of his sweat. You smelled the woodsy cologne he used, the minty taste of gum. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, trying your best not to let these thoughts of him overtake you. “For helping me with this. You’re such a good best friend.”

“Ah, yeah,” he sniffed, forcing a smile. “I should, uh. I should go, I have something to submit before midnight, so,” He gulped, taking a step away from you. “But happy to help, of course. Now you owe me my paper.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you scoffed, smiling playfully as he walked to the door to put on his shoes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he called out as he opened the door, leaving after you offered him a wave goodbye.

And once the door shut, you nearly lost your breath, falling onto your bed.

“Oh god,” you breathed, putting a hand to your mouth. “What was that? I—ugh!” you groaned, thrashing your legs around. “Why the fuck was he so hot? Get a grip, get a grip.” you ran your hands aggressively through your hair and gripping it. “Fuck I think my brain lost too much oxygen.”

You couldn't sleep one bit—not at all. Every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Jongho, and all you felt was him.

—

A few days pass and you barely see your best friend.

It's not that he’s ignoring you or vice versa; it's that he had an away game a good distance away and was off campus for a good few days. 

While he was gone, you wondered if he was thinking the same way you were, if he felt something, too, or if it was just normal to have feelings during a kiss. 

Irritated by your stupid mind, you were unsure about the feeling in your chest when you saw Jongho in the library; his baseball hat flipped backwards over his soft brown hair.

You would look odd if you ran away, right? Right.

You strutted over to where he was sitting. He always loved the window seats, mainly to people watch. You sat down in the seat across from him.

“When’d you get back?”

He lifted his eyes to yours. “Last night,” he grumbled, flipping a page in the book in front of him.

“What are you reading?” you leaned forward on your elbows.

He reacted much worse than you thought, flying backward into his chair, a terrified look on his face. 

“Yo, I’m not gonna bite you, Jeez,” you raised a brow, moving your gaze to the book. “Oh, ew, anatomy. No thanks.”

He scoffed, picking off an invisible—or maybe an extremely small—piece of lint from his black hoodie. He didn't say anything in response, he just continued what he was doing.

“So,” you tried to continue the conversation with him without it turning to mush. “I’m gonna be going to Seonghwa’s frat tonight. There's a party or something.”

He looked at you with shock. “You’re going to a party?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to cross your arms around your chest. Jongho’s vision dipped to the movement.

“Well, given that you hate crowded places,” he trailed off, not really having another excuse. “I just can't see you going to—”

“y/n?” a voice softly murmured from your left, and both you and Jongho turned to see Seonghwa walking up to your table, a bag slung across his broad shoulder. His hair was pulled up in a half up half down do, little black strands framing his unfathomable face.

Jongho, in the corner of your eye, looked away from the tall basketball player, opting for the view outside the library.

“Seonghwa?” you smiled, uncrossing your arms to look less like a grumpy bitch. “What’s up?”

You didn't even look to see the irritation on Jongho’s face.

“I was coming in to study but then I saw you in the corner of my eye,” he smiled, beamed, really, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then nodded to Jongho, offering him a smile, too. “Hey, Jongho.”

Your best friend managed to give him a smile back, although you knew his face all too well—that was a damn grimace. “Hey.” 

You looked between the two boys as seonghwa spoke again. “Hey, me and y/n are gonna be at the party tonight. You wanna come? The other guys on the team will be there, too.”

“Well, I can't imagine San missing a function,” Jongho scoffed, cracking his knuckles aggressively. “But I guess I’ll come, too.”

You nearly dropped your jaw onto the floor.

“Really?” you interjected, shocked. “I can't imagine you going to a party—”

“Anyway,” Jongho cleared his throat, ignoring you. “What time?”

Seonghwa furrowed his brows as he tried to recall. “Uh, I think ten? It goes till two, no later,” He looked to you then. “Do you wanna go for some lunch?”

You blushed. Jongho huffed. “Oh, yes. That would be nice,” you smiled, to which Jongho rolled his eyes in response. You stood up from your seat and offered your best friend a playful wink. “See you tonight, jongie.”

When you walked away, seonghwa slugged an arm around your shoulder on the way out. Jongho, still in his seat, tightened his grip on the textbook as he watched you leave.

And then he couldn't even enjoy people-watching when he saw you walk down the sidewalk with that string bean.

—

You didn't hear from jongho the rest of the day, and even when ten o’clock came, he was M.I.A. You shrugged it off, trying too hard to ignore the tug in your chest, the desire to go to his room and kiss him again. 

You made it to the frat house that sat on the end of the Greek life strip in town. It was a tall, skinny building that looked way too nice to be lived in by a bunch of boys. You made sure to wear your filthy Converse, knowing damn well whether booze, puke, or a plethora of other fluids would end up all over them. Despite not going to many parties in your lifetime, you still had common sense. 

You walked into the house, getting bombarded with tons of odd smells, some good and some bad. The interior was dark, lit with random colored lights that danced all over the walls, the people. 

Loud, ungodly music blared through oddly positioned speakers in the wall, and there was a sea of people talking and carrying on. You weren't sure how the fuck they could hear each other over the awful music.

You walked further into the house, making a B-line to where you assumed the alcohol was. There was a bunch of beer cans, and you grabbed one with ease, cracking it open and chugging it like a champ. However, the beer sucked ass, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. You must've made a face.

“Icky?” Seonghwa’s smooth voice envelopes you with comfort. 

You turn to him, offering him a sincere smile. He looked great, as always, with his hair growing even longer. “Very, but if it gets me drunk, I’ll handle it.”

“So brave,” he chuckled, standing closer to you by the second. Your mind wanders to the thought of him touching you. Would it feel as good as it did with Jongho? Would his hands be gentle? Would his lips taste as sweet? 

His hand on the small of your back interrupted your thoughts.

You needed to be drunk. Quick, so you can handle these stupid ideas.

“It’s good to see you here,” he starts, but you can't help but look at his lips. You weren't thinking about them—no, rather, you were thinking of Jongho’s. Would Seonghwa feel the same?

You took another sip of your drink to get the last drop before grabbing another. “Do they have something else? This shit sucks.”

Seonghwa looked at you for a long moment before nodding in a direction. “There’s vodka in the cabinet if you want it?”

You let out a sigh of relief, but still, you kept drinking the shitty beer. “Yes, god, yes.”

After you got ahold of the vodka, you regretted your choice against the beer.

You must've blacked out for a bit—you don't remember how you got in the living room, how you got onto Seonghwa’s lap, how his lips were on your neck. You delightfully craned your neck to feel it better, to feel his hot breaths, his hands on your waist. However, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you were imagining someone else under you.

You pulled away from him, but you didn't get off him. You looked into his eyes, seeing the desire drip from them. You were too messed up—blame that on your shitty tolerance, to care what you were doing right now. “Can I try something?” you fluttered your eyelashes, not meaning it in a sultry way, but it came out that way.

“Of course,” Seonghwa mused, a little smile prickling at his lips.

Lips that you wanted to kiss—not because you needed to, but because you needed to see something, feel something—have something to compare to that ethereal experience you had with your best friend.

And at his approval, you leaned forward, doing everything that you were taught, and pressed your lips to Seonghwa’s. He responded well, gripping the back of your head as he kissed you back, and you slid your tongue in his mouth, half expecting to feel something, anything.

But there you were, imagining Jongho, his smell, his taste, the way he cautiously touched you and held you. Nothing can compare, not even this.

You pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. He looked confused at your reaction but put on a sloppy smile. “Everything okay?”

You were going to say no. you were going to cry out and say that you were going to die because you kept thinking about Jongho. You couldn't even kiss a hot guy, a guy you wanted to date, without thinking how much better it felt with Jongho. Everything felt better with him. It was comfortable, unnerving, exciting, all at the same time.

You smiled, but with how drunk you were, you could assume that it looked like a grimace. “I uh, yeah, I just gotta….go do something—-bye,” you huffed out, offering him a little, awkward wave, before you ran out of the spinning room.

You ended up on the back porch, not sure how you got there, but the world was spinning. Your chest was aching. You needed air, anything, you needed to breathe.

The cool air hit you just right, enveloping your lungs, helping you breathe. Your skin was hot, flaming underneath your clothes, and you were sure your cheeks were bright red. After noticing a couple making out in the corner, you grimaced and ran back into the house.

God, what a shitshow.

You avoided seonghwa narrowly, making your way up the creaky, thin staircase to get your own space. You opened the first door you got to, tossed yourself in, and slammed your back against the door with a sigh of relief.

That relief didn't last long.

“y/n, what the hell?” Jongho nearly screeched, turning his body slightly as he stood over the toilet, zipping up his pants in a frenzy. “The fuck? Don't you know how to knock?”

You didn't say anything. You just took a deep breath, your gaze falling over him.

“y/n?” He repeated, standing a bit awkwardly on the other side of the room, leaning over to flush the toilet. He looked a bit rough around the edges as he washed his hands quickly, looking over at you as he dried them. He walked up to you now, hesitantly, unsure about your expression.

You fiddled with your fingers as the world slowed around you.

“Are you gonna talk?” He scoffed playfully, his eyes raking your body, forcing themselves up to your face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head, the door behind you the only thing holding you up.

He gave you a concerned look, running a damp hand through his silky hair, and you couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to rake your hands through it, too. “No, that you're not okay, or no, that you’re not gonna talk?

You blinked. “....yes.”

He sighed. His eyes looked hazy, not quite to the extent yours probably looked, but still, he was not in his right mind, either. You took a shaky breath, watching those brown irises fall to your lips, to your chest. 

You clench your fingers together, your body, dying to do something your heart would regret. You swallowed hard, sighing.

“Aren’t you acting like this because you have something to say?” He asked, his words dripping like honey from his lips.

You shook your head. “No.”

He looked like he was fighting a smile. “I think you are.”

“No, I’m not–I’m not acting like this because I have something to say.” Your mind was already screaming at you, begging you not to do anything. Begging you not to say anything. “Because I want to do something.”

The air was stuffy. The bathroom was filthy, the window was cracked open, blowing in a slight breeze, gently running up your arms, sending chills down your spine. 

Jongho tilted his head. “To do what?”

The vodka in your basically vodka-virgin body was bubbling under your skin, infiltrating your mind, your blood. It was taking control over your every move, every idea, everything. So when he asked you that, when he looked like the most beautiful person in the world as he spoke, with his pretty ass hair and his lips and his flushed cheeks, you knew what you wanted to do.

“To kiss you,” you didn't stutter. You stayed put against the door despite your words. “I just wanna do it again. Every time I look at you, I want to do it.”

Jongho’s eyes widened, but he didn't run away like you thought he would. He just stood there, breathlessly, his hands at his sides and his mouth parted. It’s like he wanted to do it too, with the way his fingers twitched as you spoke, with the way his lips almost curled up completely. 

You pushed off the door, taking a step towards him. When he didn't back away, you took another step. You were so close to him that you were able to feel the soft, hot breaths he was letting out against your skin. His breath smelled like that disgusting beer, but it didn't matter at all—actually, you wanted to taste it on his lips, on his tongue.

You reached out a hand, the room spinning around you. Your fingertips met his cheek, his hot skin. You felt a surge of electricity run through your body as you touched him, as you looked into his eyes. His gaze was unlike anything else you have ever seen. His eyes were zeroed in on you, shutting slowly as you rubbed your hand against his skin. He let out a soft breath, a content sigh, and his eyes were on yours again.

He took in a breath, eyes on your lips. You were too drunk to think about how the look on his face made no sense—friends shouldn't look at each other the way he was looking at you.

You leaned forward, and when he didn't flinch away, when he actually leaned forward as well, you smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body to yours. His hips knocked into yours, his mouth parting, swallowing you whole. He shoved you against the sink, the countertop stabbing the small of your back, but you felt absolutely no pain. You arched your body into his, as if it were instinct, and his hands ravaged your bare skin. He was desperate, trying to catch his breath as best he could while he kissed you. 

Your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers tightening in his brown hair. He let out a little moan into your mouth, his hands caging you in against the sink. Accidentally, his forehead bumped yours, causing you to bite his lip. 

You pulled away, but just for a moment, smiling at him, at the redness of his lips from your gloss and your bite. He looked breathtaking in front of you, so human, so perfect. So you leaned in to kiss him again, nose knocking into his, but it didn't matter if you were sloppy. It just mattered that he was the one you were kissing. 

“y/n,” he breathed against your lips, his hands now on your hips, one curving around your ass. “We shouldn't be doing this—”

“Shh,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder, keeping your lips against his. “I don't care right now.”

You deepened the kiss, and as he pressed up against you, you felt something hard press into you; you felt a deep rumble from him into your mouth. The pool between your thighs.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. Mingi stood there, his jaw down to the floor, as he took in the scene in front of him. Jongho must not have heard the door, as his hands were still clawing at you like a goddamn animal, his lips on your neck now. You quickly gripped Jongho’s shoulders and pushed him away.

“What? You just said—” He took notice of where you were looking, turning his head to see Mingi’s shocked expression. “Oh.”

“Oh, dear god!” Mingi looked like he couldn't hide the smile peeking through his lips. “I knew it!”

Jongho took a whole century taking his hands off you, finally stepping away, leaving you cold, empty. “It’s not what you think—”

Mingi threw his hands up in the air, smirking. “Ay, I didn't see anything. Carry on.”

With one last look, Mingi shut the door, leaving you alone with Jongho. The feeling in the room was completely different from a moment ago.

“I….” he started, then sighed, unable to look at you. “I gotta go.”

“Jongho—” You went to move toward him, but he left the bathroom as quickly as he could, stumbling into the doorframe, and out of sight. You were left to your own devices, standing in the middle of the bathroom, hair a mess, lips bright and painful, and a mark on your neck from your best friend.

If you could call him that…

—

It’s as if he disappeared.

You haven't seen Jongho in days. You were even too nervous to go to his room this time, not knowing how to approach him after kissing him like that. After you felt the hardness of his cock against your stomach. The wetness between your thighs. Something you have never felt before.

After a few, empty, lonely nights in your room, you took the initiative to go find him at the late hour of midnight—To ask if he feels this intense craving for you just like you do for him. But when you arrived at his dorm, San told you he wasn't there.

“He’s been super sick. I thought he was with you,” He shrugged, confused.

“He’s sick?” your eyes widened. 

San nodded, messy hair from sleep. “Sorry, maybe he’s with Mingi?”

After your encounter with San, you made your way to Mingi’s dorm. But, once again, Jongho was nowhere to be found.

So you went to the only place you thought to look.

And there he was, under the bright lights, taking a shot at the three-point line on the courts near the rec center. He missed the shot and stood there a moment before going to grab his rebound.

But the ball rolled to where you were, as if it meant to. Jongho stood still as you grabbed the ball.

He stayed silent. You weren't sure whether to move closer or just pass him the ball back.

“Are you going to give me it?” He spoke blandly, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air surrounding him.

You sighed, putting the ball under your arm. “Jongho, it’s cold out here.”

He sniffed, his nose red. He didn't look at you. “Just give me the ball, dammit.”

You blinked, watching the cold air show as you exhaled. “Why are you ignoring me?”

He rolled his eyes, taking in a breath. “Dammit, y/n—”

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you began to dribble the ball—very sloppily, but it didn't matter. You dribbled past him towards the hoop, tossing the ball up, watching it go through the net. “Ignoring me, I mean.”

“No, I’m not,” he huffed, moving to grab the ball from your shot. He made his way back up to the top of the key, away from you.

“Yes, you are.” you walked up to him, putting your hand out so he couldn't shoot. “Just be honest!”

With a huff of cold air, jongho tossed the ball away, an aggravated look on his face. “For fuck’s sake, y/n, Yes. I’m annoyed.”

You blinked, standing only a few feet away from him. “Why?” you asked, probably stupidly, given the irritated look on his face.

He sighed, tightening his hands into fists. “...Because….because I’m a man, too, you know.” he started, running his hands through his hair aggressively, clenching his jaw. “ You change in front of me, kiss me, do everything that causes my brain to spin. I’m sick of acting like I'm okay with it.”

You stood there, frozen. The air felt even colder as winter wrapped its arms around your bare skin.

“Does that mean you didn't like it?” you wondered out loud, possibly too immature, too inexperienced. You had no idea what you were feeling, why you felt this way. All you knew is that you wanted to spend every moment with him, to kiss him, to lay in bed with him. Things you did normally, but things felt different. 

“Didn't like what?” He asked, his eyes wide.

“The kiss,” you looked into his eyes. “The kisses.”

Jongho stood tensely, unsure of what to do. You watched his eyes flicker up to the sky as little flurries fell, catching themselves in his hair.

“y/n,” he took a sharp breath in. “don't you get it? I can't kiss you. You can't kiss me. You can't….touch me like that, change in front of me, and not expect me to get flustered!” He nearly shouted the last part, and turned to the side away from you, aggravated beyond words.

“I….I’m sorry,” you spoke out, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry that I feel this way—”

“Feel what?” he scoffed, turning back to you, a pained smirk on his lips. “You should be sorry for making me feel this….for causing me so many headaches, for god sake why the fuck am I out here when it’s fucking snowing, jesus christ you piss me off—”

“Jongho,” you interrupted his freakout, his word vomit. He stared at you with those beautiful eyes of his. “What are you trying to say?” you spoke in a small voice.

His eyes were frantic, going back and forth from eye to eye. “I…. can't do this.”

“Do what?” you felt the flurries dance against your skin, dance as they fell around you.

“I can't act like your friend anymore.” He bit his lip. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me.”

You took a step closer, but he backed away.

“I don't understand—”

“Just go,” He pleaded. 

“You do things to me too!” you groaned, finally done with his attitude. “Will you knock it off? You’re not the only one confused here—”

“Oh, I confuse you?” He looked at you like you had two heads. “I’m sorry, I only kissed you because you were trying to get another guy. I kissed you so you could know how to do it, but you want to know something?” He paused, suddenly right up on you, the space gone between you. “I haven't kissed anyone either. I just…you. It’s just been you! I didn't know what I was doing, either!”

“Is that so bad?” you pleaded, your eyes bleeding into his. “Is it so bad that you had to kiss me? Should I apologize for wanting to do it again? That I haven't stopped thinking about you since?” you frantically looked into his eyes. 

“Just…” Jongho sighed, his eyes a bit watery. “Lleave me be.” 

The look on his face was enough. You took a step back, and then another. 

“I won't apologize for my feelings, for whatever this feeling is,” you admitted. “But I am sorry I caused you trouble.” before you left him there, you looked up to him once more, snow falling around you. “Good luck at your game, tomorrow.”

You turned on your heel, not understanding a single thing that just unfolded, that was just said. He made no sense; you made none, either. It was just a bunch of words, unnecessary words, rifting your friendship. But one thing was for certain—you couldn't repair this without a few missing pieces. 

Jongho stood as still as a statue as he watched you walk away.

—

You sat on the bench in your cheerleading uniform, your heart beating a mile a minute as you watched the game unfold in front of you. 

It was approaching halftime. Jongho was sprinting down the sideline, limping slightly as he moved. He passed the ball beautifully to San, who was wide open for the layup. 

You couldn't focus on anything—didn't even cheer when San made the shot. You just sat and stared into space, your eyes following jongho, watching his wince as he backed up down the court. 

“He’s hurt,” you muttered under your breath, stomach tightening. 

Jongho continued playing his heart out, but you knew something was wrong. However, as halftime came, he walked away from the court just fine and into the locker room, not giving you a single passing glance as he walked past you. Seonghwa did, however, but you weren't even paying attention to that.

After a few long moments, the team came back out. You had to cheer, but your heart wasn't in it. Jongho, once again, walked right by you, and when you were about to jump up and ignore everything that was said yesterday to make sure you were okay, the buzzer rang. 

The game went on, the score going back and forth until the last quarter. Jongho stood at mid-court, calling a play, but the guy guarding him was aggressive. He tried to make a move around him, squeaking his sneakers against the hardwood, but it was no use. The defender followed him with ease, sliding his feet in perfect position.

The gym was in hysterics as Jongho pushed for the bucket, taking a side step into a euro step, but suddenly, oh so suddenly, Jongho crashed to the ground in a thud before getting the shot off.

The gym went silent. Jongho hissed in pain, his eyebrows knit tight. The athletic trainer ran out to see him as the game was put on hold with less than a minute to go. You stood up, not even realizing what you were doing. All you could feel was a pain in your chest as you saw him hurt, the intense feeling to take his pain away. You watched in despair as he was lifted off the floor, as he was carried out of the gym.

You swallowed hard, your ears ringing. Your teammates tried to get you focused, as the game was going to continue, but you jumped up and pushed through, making your way to the locker room desperately. 

“Jongho?” you panted, turning the corner to enter the boy's locker room. You sucked in a breath as you see him in pain, lying down on the bench, a few others around him as he nearly cried in pain. 

“Jongho!” you cried out, rushing to his side. His eyes were frantic, wide, a mess. The trainer took off his knee brace slowly as you approached. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Jongho met your gaze through his watery eyes, every other emotion gone other than…whatever this was. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw you. You knelt down next to him, gripping his hand, and he held yours tighter. 

“y/n,” he murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as the trainer surveyed his leg. “Did I…did I do it again? Please tell me I didn't—”

You looked at the man who was assessing his injury. “Did he tear it again?” you panicked, remembering how awful this was for him back then. How traumatizing it was, how horrible it was for him to gain his strength again. You couldn't stand to see him in pain.

“I…I don't know,” the man admitted. “It’s too swollen to tell. You’ll need to get this checked out—”

“Goddammit,” Jongho hissed, shutting his eyes tightly, and swallowing hard. That was when you realized that it might not even be the pain from the injury—no, it was his trauma. The memory of his hard work all down the drain. 

“I’m here,” you breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and away from his face. “It’ll be okay.”

The buzzer rang, and screams followed. Jongho looked at you, not a care in the world other than that you were there with him, just like before.

“You’ll be alright,” you repeated softly, your heart aching at his pain. “This will be okay.”

—

“From the MRI, it looks like everything is still intact,” the doctor spoke with a tone of arrogance. “You did weaken your surgical graft, however. You’ll need some PT and rest.”

Jongho stared down at his leg, his hand still gripping yours. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn't say anything else. 

“I’ll write up a referral for that, so just hold on a moment.”

You were left in silence in the middle of the emergency room, Jongho sitting up straight on the bed with a big icepack on top of his knee. He was starting right at it, his lips downturned.

You wanted to ease his troubles. To make him feel better. Nothing felt worse than seeing him like this.

You didn't know what to say. You really couldn't say anything. You were so overwhelmed with the pain you felt as you looked at him as if it were your own. You hated his tears that begged to fall and never did.

“Hey,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to move his gaze to you, and when he did, his eyes spoke a thousand words. “See? It will be okay.”

He sighed, his face contorting as he fought his tears. “I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you weren't thinking of anything else other than what was in front of you. You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles, trying to soothe him.

“For how I acted.” He looked down at your hands, how yours was touching his, how his fingers were tight around yours. He didn't want to let go—neither did you. “I was just upset.”

“I know,” you nodded, swallowing. “I was, too.”

He looked into your eyes. “y/n, I…” he paused, the beeping of his heart rate speeding up in the background. “I just don't know why I acted like that I…I guess I got caught up in how I feel about you, and it confused me.”

You blinked. “How do you feel about me?”

He let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn't it obvious?”

You shook your head. “I… don't really know much of anything. Much of these feelings,” you acknowledged, biting your bottom lip anxiously. 

He let out a genuine laugh. “Me too.”

“So, how do you feel?” You tucked a piece of your hair that fell loose from your bow, suddenly aware of how much of a wreck you probably looked like. You were still in your cheer uniform, Jongho in his basketball one, and you were sure you had smeared mascara everywhere. “About me, I mean.”

He took in a sharp breath. “This isn't fair, I’m like, high from pain meds. I don't know what i’m saying.”

You smiled widely, feeling such immense love for the man in front of you.

Oh shit.

Are you….in love?

“All I know is that I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you,” He chuckled anxiously. “I don't understand why, and it's just increasingly worse after you keep kissing me, it's making my head spin.”

Jongho yawned slightly after his somewhat confession, his eyes fluttering. 

He was so pretty. So, so pretty. You wanted to sleep with him. Next to him, cuddle with him, kiss his face, his eyelids, his cheeks, his everything. You wanted him to do everything to you that you dreamed of.

Oh fuck, you definitely are in love with him.

“Holy fuck—” you paused, staring at him, wide eyed at your realization.

“What?” He furrowed his brows.

You tried to control your overwhelming thoughts. “I just realized something…” you met his gaze, holding onto it tightly. “Are we…are we in love? I mean, I think at least I might be—”

“Holy shit, we might be,” Jongho gulped, a knowing smile curling at his lips. As if he knew this, at least on his end, for much longer than you have. He looked at you, then at his leg, and back at you. “Are you in love with me?”

“I think so?” you questioned, your chest aching. Jongho’s heart began to beat faster and faster, as seen on the monitor next to him. You leaned towards him, blushing as his heart rate jumped over one hundred. 

Jongho let out an anxious laugh. “You sound super confident.”

You would've kissed him right then and there, prove to him that you loved him, if it wasn't for that awful doctor. 

You helped jongho hobble out of the hospital, his leg wrapped in ice and his arms wrapped around you. You were hyper aware of the smell of sweat, the light remnant of his woodsy cologne. You heard his breath hitch as your fingertips curled around his arm as you walked toward the street for a cab.

“God, standing up really messed me up.” he wobbled a bit. “I don't know what they gave me, but fuck, I feel wonderful,” he giggled, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.

There was a mix of comfort and chaos as you got in the cab, his head on your shoulder, his hair a mess. His arm was slung over you, his eyes closed, his lips parted against your collarbone. He felt comforting, yes, but also his damn lips started to move against your skin.

“Jongho,” you breathed, trying to keep quiet as the cab driver carried on. “Stop it—”

“Mmmh,” he groaned into your neck, kissing it again, trailing up towards your jawline. 

“The fuck, did they give you viagra?” you nearly choked as his hand that was around your shoulder fell to your waist, tightening on the curve above your hip. His hand moved lower, past your hip, meeting the curve right before he could reach your—

“Hey,” you whisper yelled, smacking his cheek lightly. 

He opened his eyes, those brown irises sparkling despite the dark car. “Oh, its y/n,” he smiled, meeting your gaze, but you watched it fall to your lips. “You look pretty.”

You scoffed. “You don't know what you're talking about right now—”

“Oh, I do,” he smiled lopsidedly, his hand now coming up to cradle your cheek. “I know what i’m doing.”

You smirked. “I think you’re loopy.”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, smiling, his eyes curving into smiles too. “But I know what I want to do.”

You tilted your head, raising your brows. “And what’s that?”

He smiled villianously, teeth barred. “Do you really want to know?”

You held in your laugh, but managed to nod.

He took in a breath, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he huffed, his head falling right back onto your shoulder. “So, so bad. I’ve always wanted to—”

“Jongho,” you blinked. “You’re high from pain meds, you don't know what you're—”

“Oh, but I do know,” he sat up quickly, eyes dazed, hair a mess on top of his head. He reached out a hand, tucking your hair behind your ears with a boyish smile. He focused on your face, on your eyes, your lips. His expression changed, his smile falling. “I wanted to tell you about how I feel about you.”

You bit your lip. “You did.” 

He waved a hand, flopping it around. “Nah, I didn't.”

“Yes, don't you remember?” you scoffed playfully. “We just had this whole talk like twenty minutes ago—”

“Aye, stop it, I had something to say but now I forgot!” he groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. He then turned his head to your direction. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”

“You just did,” you smiled.

“Oh, that’s right.” he swallowed, looking at your lips. “Did I ever tell you that I want to kiss you? Like, all the time?”

You shook your head, giving up on the fight against his high ass. 

“Well, I just want to kiss you, over and over again, and then when you started kissing me, I think I went crazy,” he blinked slowly, eyes covering every inch of your face. He leaned forward. “You really fucked me up, you know?”

You frowned. “Did I?”

“Pfft,” he huffed. “Are you kidding? You would change in front of me, lay in bed with me, touch me, everything I….” he swallowed hard. “How was I supposed to react to your tits? Your ass? You think i’ve never gotten hard from it?” you wanted to shut his nonsense up, but he kept going on. “I’ve had to literally leave just to jack off so you didn't find out—”

“Woah, woah,” you rose your eyebvrows. “You’re a mess right now, youll regret what you’re saying tomorrow—”

“I wont,” he sniffed, eyes meeting yours. “I’m done with acting like I don't think about you naked—”

“Jongho, shut it, we’re not alone—”

“We should be alone so I can do everything I want to you,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “God, I want to do everything to you.”

You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him no—but…his lips, his words, his breath felt so good, so intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, to the corner of your lips. “Can we fuck now?”

You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “The hell is wrong with you? We’re in a cab—”

He ignored you, his lips continuing to find their way around your face. “When we get back?”

You looked down at his knee, how it was wrapped, how much pain it had caused him. “You just hurt your leg, and you’re not in your right mind.”

“Oh, i’m completely in my right mind,” he kissed your ear, letting a little breath of air tickle you. “I’ve wanted this forever.”

You sighed, your breath shaking, your chest tight. You had absolutely no experience—you’ve never had sex, never did anything with a man other than what you were doing now, and the little kiss you gave seonghwa. 

“I’m a virgin,” you whispered softly, embarrased. However, you felt the most comfortable with jongho. He was your everything.

“So am I,” he admitted, smiling. “We can learn together.”

“God, we’re so lame,” you breathed, smiling. 

Jongho, however, did not care about any words. He nuzzled into your collarbone, pressing a kiss there, over and over again. 

“So, does that mean we can have sex?”

—

You assisted jongho into your building, helping him into the elevator and pressing your floor while he leaned against the wall. 

The silence was deafening. You were sure he was able to hear your heart beat through your chest.

As the doors closed, you let a sigh out. 

“y/n,” he breathed. Behind you, his eyes were on you.

“Hm?” you hummed, afraid to turn to him, afraid of what you would do, what he would do. 

“I love you,” he spoke. 

You’ve both basically said it only an hour before. Only then, it didn't feel real. Now, maybe it was the fact that Jongho’s eyes have cleared up, his expression was raw. He looked nervous, he looked anxious. This was all new, all foreign—but Jongho wasn't new, wasn't different. He’s always been him, been by your side, your rock, your everything.

“I….love you too, dummy.”

When the elevator reached your floor, it took you a second to move. You helped him down the hall, and when you reached your door, you paused.

“Do you…want to…” you trailed off, unsure if that was only the drugs talking earlier.

When you turned to jongho, he had a sinister smile on his face. 

“You mean,” he nodded toward your room. “What I think you mean?”

“Well, jeez,” you scoffed, turning around to open your door. “As if you weren't the one all over me in the cab—”

A second later, you both stood in the entrance of your room, both of your hearts beating like crazy.

He entered the room after you, slowly shutting the door. The room was dark—you weren't even trying to turn the lights on.

You turned to jongho, watching him stand with his fists at his sides, his fingers gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts.

“How do we…” you took in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were wide, dripping with love, lust, with so much. You weren't sure if they always looked like that, if they looked at you like that. Those eyes….

“Let’s just, he winced a bit as he stepped closer. “Just stay where you are.”

When he got close enough, you saw the worry in his expression. The hesitancy, the love. He looked up, and his eyes spoke a thousand unspeakable words. His hand reached out, pausing at the hem of your cheerleading uniform. 

You let out an anxious laugh at his face, as he looked so conflicted. You didn't say anything though, and after a moment, he tugged your top right over your head, grinning like a goofball at the red lacy bra you had on.

“For me?” he murmured, his hand subconsciously drifting to run over your skin, his fingertips pressing against the thin fabric of your bra. He met your gaze, his jaw tightening.

You reached for his top now, the loose jersey easily pulling over his head—the jersey that was hiding the soft curves of muscle. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, an unimaginable amount of times—but this time, it was different. You ran a hand down the pane of his chest, across the mounds of muscle, down his soft but muscular frame. He was perfect, absolutely sexy, breathtaking, gorgeous. 

He shivered under your touch, meeting your gaze. He moved to take his shorts off, but winced. “Hold on, i’ll take them off—” but you both leaned down at the same time, crashing your heads together, causing a storm of laughter.

“God, we’re so not good at this,” He chuckled, smiling bright even in the dark room.

“No, not really,” you grinned, reaching down at his hips, pulling his shorts off, tugging a bit at the erection that bulged out. You held in your pride, the fact that he was already so turned on by just taking your clothes off.

His shorts fell down to his ankles, his underwear with them, leaving him completely naked, completely vulnerable in front of you. He looked at you with those damn eyes, those irises that held every emotion possible for you.

You took a second to take him in, his thickness, his length. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware that…that would go inside you, and it would probably tear your virgin self to shreds.

He then gripped the waistband of your skirt, tugging you to him. He was slightly taller than you, so when your body hit his, you felt his cock against your lower stomach, feeling a pulsing ache in your body. His fingers glided against the bare skin of your waist as he pulled your skirt over your hips, and when they fell, you were left standing in your mismatched underwear, begging him to take it off of you, too.

However, he just stood there like a deer in headlights, staring at the curves of your body, and the smoothness of your skin. His mouth parted, his eyes grew wide, and his hands twitched to touch you, to ravage you, to swallow you whole as if you were roadkill and he was a vulture.

An anxious vulture.

He reached around you, the heat of his body warming you, and his hands clasped around the clip of your bra. He fiddled with it for a good moment, and as he started getting irritated that he couldn't get it, you laughed. “Goddamn this thing has you locked up like fort knox—”

“Do you want me to get it—”

“No, no, i’ll be extremely embarassed, let me do it.” he continued to try to get it off you, and finally, it fell off you, onto the ground, and Jongho stood with a proud smile on his lips. “Fuck yeah, finally.”

But, right after his words of triumph, his eyes fell to your full breasts. His eyes widened, and he gave into his desires, letting himself grab one, calloused fingers gliding against your nipple.

“Oh, fuck y/n,” he breathed, both his hands coming up to cradle your breasts, to feel you up. He took in a breath, eyes unable to leave your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

He dipped his head, taking in a breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple. You felt your stomach tighten, felt your wetness pool at your thighs. He looked up to your eyes as he sucked, and when he saw your ecstatic expression, he quickly pulled away.

He didn't spare an extra second to claw at your underwear, satisfyingly watching them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked in the middle of the room. He looked at you, love dripping from his chocolate eyes.

And thats when you gripped the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I don't do this very well,” you admitted, twirling your fingers in his hair. He didn't seem to even hear what you said as his eyes remained on your lips.

“God, we cant be friends anymore,” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, he hesitated, lips hovering over yours, his breath shaky, tangling with yours. “Definetly not, fuck.”

You tilted your chin forward, lips so close, so so close. His hands found your hips, fingernails leaving marks in your skin. 

And with one last look into your eyes, jongho sighed, letting go of everything. He pressed his soft lips to yours, taking you in like he hasn't kissed you before. Like he’s always wanted to. He breathed into you, moving his hands to cradle your face, to get as close to you as possible. 

You arched your body against his, bucking your hips into his, and he grunted in response. You fell backwards onto the bed, him on top of you, but as you fell, he bit your lip so hard you let out a little yelp.

“Oh shit,” he gasped, parting from you, eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? I didn't mean to do that—-”

“Shh, shut your face,” you patted him on the cheek, giggling at his reaction. 

He adjusted himself on top of you. “Here, make sure you’re head’s on your pillow, I want you to be comfortable.” he adjusted you, too, and he looked so sincere and serious it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, but couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, too. “Stop, this is serious.”

You laughed even more. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just really cute.” you watched his eyes twinkle as he looked at you. “And you look so pretty on top of me.”

He smirked, holding back his giggle. “Stop it.”

“I’m just saying,” you reached a hand out to wrap around his neck, tugging his lips right back down to yours, kissing him softly. “Mhm. I cant get enough of this.”

He smiled into the kiss. “Me neither, I cant believe you’re under me right now.”

You couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his dick against your thighs, of your skin against his. You looked into his eyes, looked at how they were looking at you, how he held himself over you. 

And then, after a look of utter love, he smiled and kissed you. This time, he stuck his tongue into your mouth, running over the ridges of the roof of your mouth. You opened your mouth wider, deepening the kiss, knocking your nose against his. 

His lips parted as he gasped for air, his chest heaved against yours. His hand delicately glided up your ribs, meeting the skin of your breasts. He gripped your breast in his hand, moaning into your mouth, hips bucking into yours. You couldve sworn you felt his heartbeat through his chest as he made out with you, as his hands covered you. He pulled away only to make sure you still wanted this, and when you nodded, he reached down to line himself up with you. The concept of sex always felt so difficult. So worrisome, so new. But with jongho, it felt like you've done this forever.

“If it hurts, tell me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently. “I’ll take care of you.”

You literally couldve came at those words. You swallowed hard, and forced out a nod.

He pecked your lips, smiling, kissing them again. His hands hesitated, not knowing what to touch as his tip pressed into your cunt, his breath shortening, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You reached out, gliding a hand across his cheek, across his lips, smiling up at him.

“I….” he hesitated before entering you. “Are you wet enough? Should I spit?”

He looked terrified. Absolutely terrified. So you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, watching his eyes shut tight in pleasure, in delight. “Don't worry about anything and just do it.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, letting out a little laugh. “Okay, okay.”

And then, his eyes bled into yours as he tilted his hips, pushing his cock slowly into you, so gently, as if he was terrified of hurting you. You watched his mouth part, watched his expression change to euphoria as he filled you, every inch sparking a new feeling. 

He snapped his hips, his length fully in you, and you nearly cried out from the feeling. You moaned as he moved slowly, clawing at his shoulders, this feeling unlike anything else—your damn vibrator held nothing on Jongho.

He relaxed his expression, his eyes fluttering open, looking right down on you. You met his gaze as he moved in and out of you.

“Does it hurt, if it hurts, I can stop—”

“Shut the hell up and fuck me, jongho,” you grumbled, your hands finding a home on his hips, the feeling of them snapping under your hands sent you spiraling. You moaned as his dick reached a new spot, as you felt your walls tighten around him. You wanted to cry out, rip your hair out, tear at his skin as you felt the intense crave for him. The way he looked down on you fueled the fire in your hips, in your back. You felt an ache in your hips, slamming your head back, fighting the urge to claw the bedsheets.

But then you sae his grimace, and you frowned. “Oh my god, you’re knee, you’re in pain.”

He kept moving, but he was definitely in pain. “I-I think the meds wore off—”

Without thinking, you pushed him off you, making him roll over so now he was the one on th bottom. You straddled him, looking at his shocked expression, how his breaths quickened, how his cock twitched for you. To be inside you. 

You had an unimaginable amount of knowledge from all your smutty books, so you might as well try to use what you know, right?

“y/n, what are you—”

“Let me please you,” you breathed, and with a slow, calculative movement, you sat on his dick, sliding his length into you, once again gaining the extreme pleasure of his expression and the absolute desperation he expressed. He gasped as you moved up and down on his cock, and he watched you, watched him dissapear into you. He slammed his head back into the pillow, his face contorting, moans fluttering through his lips, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure and a million other things.

“God, fuck,” his hands gripped your hips as you rode him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths shallow. He gasped for air. “You feel so good, oh my god. So fucking good.”

You tossed your head back, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of it. He blinked up at you, a smile on his lips, completely in bliss.

He moved his hands with you, nearly lifting you up as you moved on his cock, moved on his body. You forgot how strong he was.

“You sure you’ve never done this?” he gasped, his eyes shut tight. “Because fuck, this is better than I ever imagined.”

You smiled down on him, giddy at his words. You moved even faster, causing him to moan, and moan, and moan.

You didn't even know what to say—you just enjoyed his little commentary as he took you in, his gaze dripping like honey.

“Godamn,” he hissed, eyes meeting yours. He looked frantic. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he seethed, hips slamming up into yours. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so so hot.”

You felt him twitch inside you, felt your walls collapse. You began to see spots in your vision as he moved his hips, too, just as you were. You felt so much pride as he looked absolutely pathetic underneath you, his gaze hazy, his lips bright red from your kisses.

“I love you, I…love you,” he hissed out. “I love you.”

You reached your climax just from looking at him, crying out in a moan, leaning forward over his body. His hands flooded all over you, sending sparks at every touch, every spot of your body. And when you came, when you felt the rush of cum, the rush of the high finally hit, you continued to move as he did. Then, suddenly, his eyes grew so wide, he lifted you off his cock hastily, gasping for air.

You leaned back on his legs, onto your heels, trying to breathe, trying to see, as his hands grasped his own dick, moving up and down before he came, his cum shooting onto you, over your chest, your boobs, your stomach. You watched him gasp as it happened, his lips curling up in an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, oops,” he laughed, looking absolutely delectable with the hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide with pleasure. “Totally meant to do that….”

Something burned under your skin, something foreign, something you never felt before. You’ve only read about this feeling, this moment. But now, here you were. You just had sex, sex with your best friend, and it was the best thing you’ve ever felt before. You needed more, so so much more.

“Please tell me we can do that again,” you breathed, falling onto him, sticking to him, feeling the beat of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.

“Oh, fuck yes,” his hand wrapped around you, holding you to him. He pressed a gentle, exasperated his to the top of your head. “You don't even have to ask that, i’m planning on doing that all night.”

You moved a bit so you could lay against his side, totally forgetting about the cum on you that now got all over the place. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing for a virgin,” you side eyed him. “You have to be lying.”

He smirked, a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh, well,” he swallowed, eyes looking all over your face. “I mean, I have been thinking about what I would do if I ever got to sleep with you.”

You furrowed your brows. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Well I didn't get to do exactly what I wanted,” he looked down at your lips, at your body pressed to his. “Because of my damn knee, but,” he pressed a kiss to your nose. “That means we have to do this again.”

“Oh, baby,” you pinched his cheek. “We’ll be doing this way more than we probably should.”

He smiled, that blush still on his face, across his nose. He looked so beautiful, so so pretty, it actually hurt you to look at him.

You kissed him, kissed his lips, his nose, his flushed cheeks. 

And you looked at him, at his eyes, the same eyes you’ve known forever. 

“I love you, Jongho.”

—

The next morning, you parted ways with a sleepy jongho, late for your early class. You couldn't stop thinking about him all day, that is, until you ran into Mingi and San in the library cafe.

Mingi grinned like the cheshire cat, an eye smile brighter than the sun. “Well, hello there, you.”

You rolled your eyes as the line for the coffee moved. San and Mingi stood behind you, giggling like little kids.

“So, Jongho didn't come back last night,” San started, and you quickly cut in.

“So? He always stays in my room, its not anything odd—”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mingi crossed his arms, grinning. “But it is odd.”

“Why?” you crossed your arms, too, facing him. San stood by with a little chuckle.

“Because he came back to the room before his class and his jersey was on inside out—”

“So? He likes to sleep shirtless—”

“His lips were covered in red lipstick—”

“I don't know what you were talking about—”

“Oh, and he told me that he had sex with you—”

You slammed a hand against San’s mouth, giving him a death glare while mingi giggled like a school girl. You grimaced, pulling your hand away. “Shut up, or i’ll make you.”

“Ooh, so scary,” San waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Anyway, are you dating him now? You better date him, he’s been dreaming of that for so long.”

You blinked. “I mean, we said we loved each other, but nothing about dating….”

Mingi smirked. “Welp, guess you better go figure that out.”

After class, you found yourself in front of Jongho’s door, a shake in your breath as you knocked. He opened the door, shirtless, a smile on his face the minute he met your gaze.

And then he grabbed you by the waist and planted a big kiss onto your lips, smiling into it, and then pulled away.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi.” he tilted his head, looking you up and down.

“I heard you told San everything.”

He bit his lip. “Was I supposed to keep it to myself?”

You shook your head, smiling.

“Do you want to come in?” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” you nodded, following him in.

The minute the door shut, Jongho slammed you up against it, swallowing you whole with his mouth as he kissed you. His hands gripped the side of your head, tugging at your hair, causing you to let out a hiss. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue into you, exploring your mouth with pleasure. He moaned into you, and you couldn't help but moan yourself.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up, slamming your back into the door as he held you to him. He then started to walk towards his bed, but you realized his injury.

“Jongho, you’re leg,” you breathed with worry, trying to get him to put you down. “You’ll hurt yourself—”

“Shut up,” he spoke into your mouth, indeed shutting you up immediately. You sighed as he kissed you, as he touched you. He gently set you down onto his bed, and you went under his duvet since he kept his room like an icebox. 

He followed you suit, crawling on top of you under the covers, but you had a better idea. Once again, you flipped him so he was on his back, and with one quick look at the shock in his gaze, you kissed his collarbone, then his chest, down his sternum, over the soft muscle of his stomach. You slowly pulled his pants down over his cock, his underwear along with them.

You felt his muscles tighten underneath your lips, you heard his breath hitch as you moved lower and lower, until your lips met the soft skin of his hard cock. He gasped his hands searching for you under the covers, his legs moving in pleasure as you licked his tip.

“Oh my…oh…” he arched his back against your kiss, your hands holding onto his hips as you surrounded your mouth around his erection. He thrashed against you, absolutely liquid in your embrace.

But before you could take him fully, the door of his room opened, and in came san blabbing about god knows what.

You quickly moved, trying to lay flat the best you could to hide. Jongho sat up fast, pulling the blanket up and bunching it around his dick, making sure it wasn't so obvious that you were under there….and that he was literally throbbing hard.

“I ran into y/n earlier, she admitted to it!” san roared, and you assumed he was taking his shoes off considering the sound. “Good for you buddy, I know how long you wanted to tap that—”

“Ah, yeah,” Jongho awkwardly laughed. You wish you could see the look on his face, the embarrassment. Just how long did he want you?

You couldn't help but stroke your hand against his dick, causing him to gasp.

“You alright?” San questioned, now making his way to the other side of the room. 

You continued to rub him. Jongho gripped the blanket tight.

“Peachy,” Jongho grunted.

San didn't speak for a while.

“Are you gonna finally ask her out?”

You paused.

Jongho sighed. “Huh?” he was totally out of it.

“I mean, you’ve been in love with y/n for ages, you might as well make if official while you can.”

“Am I?” Jongho swallowed hard. “Am I in love with her?”

“Ah shut up, you know it,” San scoffed,and a bed creaked—assumingly his. You decided to continue to suck Jongho off, taking him in your mouth, causing him to jolt.

“I uh, i’ll ask her out later,” Jongho took in a breath. “But, um, do you think you could….you know, give me a moment?”

“A moment, why—”San paused, then gasped. “Are you beating your meat right now? Oh fuck man, my bad!”

You nearly cackled against Jongho at the way they conversed with each other, how normal it seemed. It made you wonder how often this happened, how often Jongho did this to himself, how many times he thought about you while doing it…

That turned you on even more.

The minute you heard the door shut, you tossed the covers over your head, meeting Jongho’s shocked, mind-boggled expression.

“Jeez, y/n, fuck,” he couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, as you sucked him. “You’re a freak.”

“Well, you should see the things I read,” you chuckled, and then licked up the column of his cock, causing him to take hold of your head.

He shoved you up and down on his dick, his fingers tearing into your scalp, causing you to choke on him. He groaned, moaned, hummed every note possible, and then without warning, he came into your mouth, his body going still, his eyes open wide as he watched you swallow his load.

Oh, he tasted better than you ever imagined. 

His saltiness still coated your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, his eyes lost in you. He looked so in love, so in lust, in everything.

“Are you gonna ask me out?” you asked in between kisses.

“Mhm,” he leaned into your kiss, not wanting to break apart. 

“Are we dating now?”

Kiss.

He blinked, looking up at you. His smile defined beauty, his lips desire. 

“If you’d like.”

“Of course.”

You kissed him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling around in bed with him. He chuckled, smiled, nuzzled his head into you. 

“I have practice,” you kissed his cheek, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him. “I have to go.”

“One more minute,” he mumbled into your ear as he nibbled it, then kissed it. “Just a minute.”

You smiled. “Okay, fine, I guess I can spare a minute.”

He held you, breathed in your scent, his scent on your lips. He didn't let go, even after the minute, and you hand to force yourself out of his hold.

“Meet me in my room tonight?” you raised a brow,

He nodded. “Of fucking course.”

You quickly tried to fix your hair up, tucking it behind your ears, before you gave your boyfriend a wink while you walked out.

And, funny enough, when you shut the door behind you and turned around, San stood there, smirking devilishly.

“Well damn, when’s it my turn?”

[meltingmidas]

I need someone to write breeding kink Mingi… like his wife brings up the thought of being ready for kids and he just goes absolutely WILD. He loses control and gets so so so rough. Please I need that so bad 😫

[meltingmidas]

Coachella Rut

Paring: Idol!Hongjoong x Non Idol!Reader

CW: DomJoong/SubReader, Joongie is aggressive :))), pinv, unprotected sex (don’t do this plz this is not sexy!), creampie, mentions of marks and bruises, degradation, pls lmk if i missed anything!

WC: 920

Midas's Notes: So I literally started this right after watching the Coachella stream.. holy shit. Joong really did something to me and idk if I’ll ever be the same. Is there possibly a Mingi one in the works? Maybe. Uhhh this is NOT edited cause I’m too tired and this is just raw horniness so please enjoy (and excuse) this messy fic! PS also didn’t have a fuckin clue what to name it so enjoy the random title <3

🔞 Below 🔞

“Fuck Joong, slow doowwwn- ugh please!” You whimpered as he roughly pounded into your abused pussy, your legs over his shoulders, his arms beside your head. He’s been at it for nearly 2 hours now, rejecting your every single orgasm, giving you no time to rest. Your neck is littered in bruises, cheeks red from his previous slaps, eyeliner dragged down to your jaw. He’s always like this after a concert; but for some reason Coachella has him in a rut.

He’s aggressive, raw, and borderline psychotic. A wild smile plastered on his face, the shitty red dye running down his face over his eyes and around his cheeks, down to his chin and neck. He locks eyes with you as he brings his hand up to roughly hold your jaw, your cheeks uncomfortably squishing together. “You are fucking mine, got it? Your heart, your soul, your thoughts, your pretty pussy, everything. You belong to me. Yeah?”He whispers out, inches away from your face, he’s movements never faulting. You nod, and mewl out a small “Yes sir” before he gives the corner of your lips a small kiss and returning to the side of your head, giving light nips to your neck. Hongjoong looks straight out of a horror movie; and it’s fucking sexy.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by a particular hard thrust, kissing your velvety sweet spot inside you, making you sing his name like it was a prayer. “You look so fucking good underneath me. All fucked up on my cock, yeah? You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grunts out, his voice course from the previous show he put on. You nod eagerly, your nails scratching at his shoulders, bound to leave your mark all over him. “Yeaah that’s right slut. Tell me how good I am.” You moan loudly at his request, surely others would hear (not that you cared), starting to attempt to form a sentence. “Cock feels to-fuck feels too good Joong. Need you to fuck me harder. Please!”.

He chuckles deeply, heavy into your ear, soft grunts and pants leaving his lips. “You feel so fucking good, you were made for me, whore.” You scream out his name as he starts fucking you faster; harder than he’s ever gone before. You whine and whimper, begging for your release, “Please Joong- pleasepleaseplease fill me up sir, I need it so bad. Need your cum inside me so bad.” Hongjoong moans loudly in your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. He lifts up to look at you, the fully sits up, your lower half now slightly lifted up off the bed thanks to your legs still over his shoulders. He gives you a wild smirk, eyes dark and full of love and lust. His hands find the plush spot of your hips, nails digging his shape into it. You whine, tears spilling out as you keep your babbling pleas for his seed. “Fuck- such a good girl, asking so politely for my cum.” One hand moves from your hips and finds your clit, your eyes shoot open and a drawn out moan leaves your lips, a new spark shoots up your spine and your release edging closer and closer.

He grunts, his thrust growing sloppier and harder, you can feel him twitch inside you as he gets closer. “Gonna make you mine sweetheart. All mine- fuck.” He peers down at you, a smile and his signature laugh, “Cum for me, doll.” That was all you needed as you find yourself twitching, hips bucking up into his, you feel your walls convulsing around his, feeling your sweet slick run down to your ass. He moans, voice scratching as a string of “shit” leaves him, as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you up. You whine, feeling so full of him and his milky cum. “So so good. Fuck you’re mine. Mine all mine..” he whispers out, more to himself, as he pushes his final spurts of cum inside you.

You look at him through your wet lashes, admiring the scene of his sweat drenching him, basking in his post sex glow. He catches your eyes, a soft smile leaving his lips as he leans down to meet yours. Hongjoong gives you a soft, gentle kiss, completely different to the ones you received earlier. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t do too much did I?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you, a mix of both your cum oozing outside of your puffy pussy. You shake your head, “No, not at all Joongie. But holy shit, I don’t think I can get up after all… that.” You laugh, and you hear him quietly joins you. “Here.” You look over to find him handing you a glass of water (that he already prepped beforehand, what a gentleman), and a towel in his hand beside you. You gladly take it, shaking as you hastily take a sip. You feel him gently lift one of your legs, softly patting and wiping you off. “I’ll start you a bath, and we can take one together. Or would you rather eat first? Which sounds good?” He quietly asks you, throwing the towel to a dirty clothes hamper and grabs your hand to give it a kiss. You giggle, “Bath, then food, please.” He nods, slowly rubbing your knuckles in his hands. “Sounds good sweetheart.” He gets up to start your bath, you sit up, sipping your water and wondering if you should get chicken or a burger.

#Ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader

[meltingmidas]

I’m imploding omfg I LIVE for pastor Mingi in any shape/form. This is a masterpiece 🙇🏼‍♀️‼️

King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

——————

a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

[meltingmidas]

Lord.. lord help me. 🙇🏼‍♀️

vanilla and cream

<yeosang x fem!reader>

where you flip a switch in your pretty boyfriend, and now he has a breeding fetish he can never get out of his system no thanks to you.

Genres: smut, pwp, forced breeding, mild bondage, cream pies, breeding kink/fetish, overstimulation, unprotected sex, whiny and desperate Yeosang for the girlies out there, it's quite a lot of cum (but are we surprised)

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @hongjoongswifefr @yourlocaljonghoe itza-meee

🩷 stay perverted: the masterlist

Yeosang never considered himself to have much kinks or fetishes, at least, before he met you. But even when the relationship as partners turned more intimate, Yeosang never seemed to have much preference when it comes to sex. 

But nothing could have prepared him for the effect just one night could have on him. Now he can’t seem to get enough, and he drives him fucking insane. The taste of it still lingers in his tongue as if it just happened the night before, and when he finally snaps out of it (barely), Yeosang has to make sure he’s not wearing pants that that especially pull taut against his crotch, or that would definitely become an issue.

The ironic thing was that it started on an ordinary night. 

You are peppering kisses across his temples, his pretty little birthmark, before you go down to his neck and shoulders, listening to the soft hums of approval while his hands are warm on your sides.

“Could you let me try something, Yeo?” You ask, going back to facing him at eye level, your palm resting against his soft cheek. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asks back, closing the distance with a kiss. The way he’s swiping and biting softly against your bottom lip, almost erasing whatever you wanted to tell him. 

You giggle in between the kiss, teasing him back with your tongue in your mouth before you pull back, leaving Yeosang slightly breathless.

“Do you trust me?” 

Yeosang nods, his fingers combing through your hair. “Of course baby.”

“Could you let me tie you up and fuck you?”

Yeosang blinks. He never really gave bondage much thought, and even if he did, he always thought you would be the one tied up.

After a second of silence from him, you shift around the bed, Yeosang following your gaze, watching you take white rope from the nightstand. 

“I practiced” you assured him.

Yeosang cocks an eyebrow. “On someone else?”

You hit him playfully, earning a giggle from the male.

“Obviously not, dumbass”, you tease. “So do you want to try it? We can stop any time if it hurts?”

Yeosang ponders for a second. Deep inside, anticipation brews in him—the thought of you tying him up and fucking him on top. It’s not as if he doesn’t let you ride him, it’s just the addition of bondage had roused his interest. So he agrees to try it out. 

Your soft, warm walls hug Yeosang, he swears he’s at the fucking gates of heaven. His muscles flex when he pulls against the ropes, groaning at the pleasure rapidly filling him up. His thoughts are swarming altogether, growing incoherent. He wonders if this strangely more euphoric because it’s something new introduced to the bedroom. He’s never complained about the current sex life the both of you have, he enjoys it, but something about this arrangement is getting a rouse out of him. Yeosang’s heart is pounding, and he hopes you can hear that it’s for you. 

“Babe…” he trails off, still tugging against the restraints. You think the way he looks almost helpless is so endearing, especially when he has his cock sunk all the way into your cunt. And the thought of being completely helpless while you fucked him senseless? Yeosang is indulging it in like it’s his favourite dessert. 

“How does it feel, baby?” You ask, letting your hands run down from your shoulders, giving your nipples a little tug before your hands slide down your bare body and thighs. Yeosang swallows hard, another soft groan leaving his lips as the sounds of skin slapping slowly grows wetter and wetter. His moans turn into whines. 

“So good. So tight, so warm. Fuck”, Yeosang curses, forcing his eyelids open, wanting to look at the way your cunt sinking down and swallowing his pathetic, twitching cock, as cream gradually coats his length. 

Yeosang barely manages to calm down, trying to regain his breathing, his control, from just bursting in you. He doesn’t want to risk cumming in you, no matter how fucking good he thinks it’ll feel, because it’s the first time in a long while since then both of you fucked without protection. Yeosang bites his lips, taking deep breaths, his abdomen flexing once more, his arms pulling against the ropes again. You stare at him, watching Yeosang shift helplessly, his face contorting into pleasure from time to time when he feels you squeeze against him. 

“B-babe… I don’t think—ah fuck—we should keep going”, he barely manages out. You see the beads of perspiration clinging against his temples and his cheeks. 

“Why not?”, you tilt your head, your grinding slowing painfully down, Yeosang jerks slightly, he feels his throat grow dry when, especially the orgasm that was dangling before him completely gets snatched from him. Yeosang spits another curse. 

“I’m not wearing protection,” Yeosang replies, his thighs now trembling from the tension. “It’s not safe.”

You plant a finger on your lip, scrunching your eyebrows, pouting at him slightly, your pussy still riding off his cock. It feels so fucking good that it’s starting to fucking hurt. “But don’t you want to cum, baby?”

Yeosang’s eyes are slowly growing more glazed out the more your hips slap against his. He wants to cum so fucking badly that he doesn’t even know how he’s still thinking of protection. But he still nods, and he’s rewarded with you picking up the pace and bouncing off his cock again, which he wonders if it’s a punishment to feel this fucking amazing. 

“But still—“ Yeosang tries to counter, only to be shut up when you have him completely up to the hilt, dragging your cunt against his poor cock, sending him into another layer of pleasure, his hips unintentionally bucking up to yours. 

“I’m so fucking full, Yeo,” you hum, leaning closer into him, your body pressing onto his, still bouncing off him. “You make me so fucking full. So fucking thick.” 

A pained whimper escapes his lips. He doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

You lean in, your hands cupping his pretty face. Yeosang has his eyes screwed shut, his long lashes resting against his skin, he’s biting his lips, sometimes letting go soft pants that come off as whimpers. 

“You’re gonna cum in me like a good boy, okay? You know you want to”, you hum once more, before a soft moan leaves your lips when you feel him grow even more in your cunt, his cockhead pressing against your g-spot when your hips lower down once more to fit him fully once more.

Yeosang is able to lock his fucked out eyes with yours, looking at you with so much desire, so much adoration, before his eyes roll back, his jaw slacks, his abdomen completely flexed. He’s in so much bliss, the pleasure tingling—streaming like electricity across every single nerve that existed in his body as his cock squirts so much thick and warm cum right into your tight little hole. He couldn’t even tell you that he was about to cum before it happened. All he hears is your soft voice, coaxing him to empty it all in your pussy, with broken moans in between. 

When Yeosang is barely recovered from his high, your fingers are under his chin, gently guiding his head to face you, still sat prettily on his spent cock. 

“Good boy. Look at the pretty mess you’ve made”, you praise, leaning back, forcing him to watch you pull out of him. His cock is decorated in a pretty translucent, wet coat of cum, but what completely flips something in him is when your fingers slide to your wet folds, barely pulling them open, and the thick, white cum trickles out of your hole. Yeosang is completely entranced and breathless. And he’s completely hard again. 

“You filled me up so good, Yeo,” you smile, even though at the same time whimpering as another load seeps past your folds. 

When you untie his restraints, Yeosang has your legs pushed into a mating press, his cock entering you once again, with much ease thanks to the extra lubricant of cum, before his mind completely blanks out, sanity and rationale somewhere else on earth, just not with him, while his hands pin your wrists above you, and he fucks you like a starved man before breeding another load into you. 

Since that night, it was all Yeosang could think about. The bondage was definitely fun, the orgasm denial was heavenly, but nothing could top the way you made him breed you like that. Before he realises it, he’s addicted. 

The condoms now were all forgotten at the bottom of the drawer. Yeosang thinks this completely ruined when using condoms, so he stops—the feeling of his bare cock being squeezed raw by your pussy gets him off so fucking fast now.

He would have you seated on his cock, riding him, creaming on him, squeezing him before he empties his load right into you, making sure you milk him dry of every single drop. 

You were right. Your cunt was made to be his cum dumpster. And Yeosang can’t get enough. 

It was to the point that he bought a full length mirror that faced the bed from an angle, and he would have you ride him, while he watches from the mirror the way his cock is swallowed full by your pussy, your moans accompanying his cock hitting in the deeper areas of your cunt. He would grab a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks wider, watching the way he forces his cock to go deeper in you, and the fucking cries that come out of you? So fucking delicious. 

If it wasn’t fucking you on cowgirl, he would have you face the mirror, legs spread wide open, his cock stuffing you full from the bottom in full view in the mirror. 

Either way, he never misses the way his cum dribbles and drips out of your pussy hole, usually accompanied by your shaking thighs and breaths. 

And then he would slide his cock right back in, making sure he breeds you full for the next two rounds. 

His words in the bedroom turned more dirty too, reminding you that his cock will always have enough to fill you up over and over again until he is satisfied.

The extent? He even videos some of the fucking if he doesn’t have time to fuck and breed you on days and weeks when he’s unable to meet you.

The phone is pointed right at your pussy, propped on a tripod from an angle, so his phone camera is able to capture the scene in full. Your legs are wide open, your mind hazy from the euphoria. 

“We’re not done yet, baby”, Yeosang reminds you, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing them lower. The camera catches your cunt in full view, before Yeosang’s cock comes into view, sliding right into you, immediately thrusting right into you, and it records your choked moans and the obscene sounds of the both you fucking like rabbits. 

“Fuck, Yeo, you’re so deep,” you cry out, eyes rolling back when his cock hits your sensitive spot. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum so much on your cock”

Yeosang’s low voice only pushes you further, and he encourages you, “that’s it baby. Doesn’t that feel good too?” His thrusts are becoming ruts, desperate and feral, making sure you feel it all the way in your stomach before you completely let go, your walls convulse against his cock before he spills his load right into you once more. He pulls out, rubbing his cockhead on your folds without much friction, no thanks to the cream and cum. 

Then he moves away, giving you a few seconds before cum starts to trickle out of you once more. His fingers come into view, rubbing both sides your folds before he pulls them open slightly so even more cum seeps out onto the soiled sheets beneath you. You’re so out of it, still recovering from your high before Yeosang dives in for another wet kiss. 

Yeosang moves out of the frame once more, his hand reaching out to halt the recording, his mind buzzing with excitement to watch such a perverted video when he’s away from you. He tosses the phone onto the bed, giving soothing rubs on your thighs while his muscled arms are wrapped around you, kissing the back of your neck. 

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip affectionately while the both of you cuddle. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, your fingers dancing along his biceps. 

“Thinking about how I should fuck and breed you in public too, make sure you keep my cum nicely in your pussy while we go on our date. And if you don’t, I’ll keep breeding you till you’re begging me to stop.”

You stare at him, speechless and you think to yourself-- what the fuck have you done?

[meltingmidas]

This. This changed me. I am a completely different person now. I didn’t know that I needed this Joong in my life until now.

Ugh, As If (Hongjoong x Reader)

Summary: Hongjoong is not someone you should be attracted to, especially considering everything that’s on your plate in your final semester at university. Unfortunately for you, he has some sound suggestions for helping you cure your insomnia…

Word Count: 11.13k

Genre/Warning: one-shot, punk!hongjoong x feminine!reader, enemies to lovers (kinda), smut (MDNI!!!), dom/sub dynamics but not super fleshed out, inexperienced!reader (never mentioned, but alluded), bondage, sensory deprivation, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, reader has insomnia, overuse of the word sweetheart, reader loves pink (it's me, I'm reader lol), implied aftercare, Jongho cameos

Author's Note: Released one day early bc I have midterms tomorrow lol. I actually have five midterms this week guys... five (!!!) I'm very exhausted and just want a tatted!hongjoong to take care of me, is that too much to ask for??? But in all seriousness, this took a ridiculously long time to write with classes and life, so I'd love for you guys to let me know what you think 🤎🤎🤎

🎧 playlist 🎧: mark: golden hour 🎸 harry styles: kiwi 🎸 5sos: easier (live from the vault) 🎸 aly & aj: potential breakup song 🎸 jooyoung: fountain 🎸 ateez: propoganda 🎸 woodz: love me harder

This is a work of fiction, and it is not meant to be a realistic representation of any real person mentioned in any way, shape, or form.

Your rapid footsteps come to an unexpected stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. People behind you mumble words of annoyances before walking around you. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say, incredulously turned to who you thought was your friend. 

“You know I wouldn’t normally do this to you, right? Just this one time, please?” your friend begs. With her situationship still on mute, she looks at you with pleading eyes. Her eyes flicker down to her phone. He’d been on mute for just a beat too long, but when her eyes look up to your unusually angered ones, her attention is fully brought back to you.

“What the actual fuck, dude? You said we’d hang out tonight… without any distractions,” you look down at your outfit. The anger dissipates into sadness. You’d slipped on the loveliest pink sweater for the brutal January winds and even did your makeup.

It wasn’t typical of you to want to be on the streets of your college town, especially on a Friday night. There was an exam next week you had to study for, and it's neatly printed and stapled practice test was waiting to be completed on yet another sleepless night. But here you were, excited, dressed up, and ready to try something new. 

Down the street, a group of already drunk frat students are loudly stumbling out of a bar. With a sigh, you look at her phone. He hadn’t hung up on her yet. The distant setting sun reflected prettily against your sweater under your hefty coat, and the thermal leggings you’d worn under your matching pink skirt felt ridiculous now. Your hair was getting tousled in the cold wind. What a wasted outfit, you think. 

“Whatever, go have your fun, but just drop me back home first,” you tell her with another defeated sigh.

“What! Come on babes, I’ve already paid the fees for the class! At least one of us should go,” she whines with tugs at your arm. You could hear the desperation in her voice. He still hadn’t hung up, but you definitely would’ve by now. She knew her time was running out and the tugs became more eager. 

You didn’t know shit about leatherworking, but it had become your friend’s newest obsession for the week. And you were totally fine with going to a workshop and trying it out for her sake, but not alone. Not without her. 

Now extremely impatient, she starts pushing you towards the entrance of the leather shop. “I’m sure you’ll have the bestest time, and I can’t wait to see what you make! I’ll make dinner for the rest of the month and be your personal driver until the end of the semester. I love you so much, I’ll see you back at home! Bye, babes!” The excited words hurriedly stumble out of her mouth faster than you’re able to catch them, and you don’t have a chance to say anything back before she’s left you on the welcome mat at the inside entrance of Outlaw Leather. 

From inside, you watch her unmute the call and speed down the street back to her car. With an irritated huff, you shrug off your coat and observe the inside of the shop.

Shelves were stacked high with hundreds of rolls of leather. Some were plain and beige, while others were shimmery and textured with patterns. Leatherworking tools and machines were hung on one side and opposite that, an array of electric guitars lined the wall. Behind the register, there was a massive framed poster of David Bowie wearing a leather jacket with a cigarette hanging from his lips. How stereotypical. 

Between some of the shelves, you spotted middle-aged men contemplating their choice of rubber mallets while an overwhelmed younger employee was helping them decide. 

You whip your head in either direction, and very quickly, on the exposed structures in the ceilings, hanging from one of the pipes, you spot a printed sign that says “HERE FOR A CLASS?” which points further back into the expansive shop. 

Following the sign, you’re led to the surprisingly opened interior of the back of the shop. The setup of the wooden lab tables resembles a kindergarten class, but with one quick view of the sharp, jagged tools and annoyingly bright neon orange lighter in the middle, anyone could tell otherwise.

With your coat in hand, you take a seat at a fairly empty table far away from the demo lab. From the six stools at the table, only 2 were occupied by two elderly women deeply engaged in their conversation. The tables near the demo lab were filled with bright-eyed beginners observing the array of different tools at the table. 

The older women at the table seemed content in not getting to know you better, and you didn’t feel like moving tables. So in your boredom, you take out your phone to open the document of the practice test you’d saved beforehand. You wait for your phone to load, and when the struggling bar refuses to load nothing more than the first page, you slip your phone into your pocket with a heavy sigh. 

You start to spin in your seat, taking in the leather pieces that hang on the wall. There was an array of bags, belts, and wallets, but what caught your attention were the corsets. Most of them were black, but a couple were a dark, deep red. 

As you keep spinning, your legs bump into someone else’s, and you come to a stop. One warm hand rests against your thigh as it holds on to the bottom of the cushioned stool.

“Careful, sweetheart,” a warm voice rings above you. When you look up, you’re met with teasing brown eyes. 

“Sorry,” you quietly apologize, but he’s already moving past you and all you can do is look as he makes his way to the demo lab.

You weren’t one to care for appearances, but he looked fashionable. It wasn’t easy to make an apron look good, but the deep brown leather that hung around his neck was delectable on him. His bleached blonde hair was swept back, and you find yourself wanting to count each of the dangling pieces that hung from his ears. He brings one hand to brush his hair back, and on his pretty hands, you spot varyingly colored fingernails. On the tips of his fingers, you see climbing vines of ink extending to his arms from under his white button-up.

As if he can sense your eyes on him, he turns your way and shoots you a toothy grin. You quickly look down at the bare table and readjust your pink sweater. In the crowd of simple linens and leather jackets, a fuzzy pink sweater stood out like a sore thumb. With yet another sigh, you smooth down the fabric and don’t turn back towards the handsome, aproned employee until he begins the workshop. 

“Good evening, everybody. Nice to see some familiar faces, and to the rest of you,” his eyes catch yours and a smirk decorates his lips, “welcome.” He walks behind the demo lab and places his palms flat on the table. “My name is Hongjoong, and I’ll be guiding you through the workshop today. That’s my assistant, Jongho,” he points to the guy you’d spotted earlier on your way in. Jongho sends a short wave to the class. “Should I be busy, he’ll be more than happy to help you. Now, who’s ready to get this show on the road?”

As he begins to demonstrate, people stand to hover around Hongjoong’s table. From over an older lady’s shoulder, you watch him confidently slice through the sheet of leather and explain what you were making. 

You were signed up in an intermediate class to make a tool roll. A tool roll. You didn’t own any tools, save from a double-sided screwdriver the previous apartment renters had left behind, and you knew for certain your friend wasn’t one to hide tools in her bedroom. What the hell am I supposed to do with a tool roll?

Nonetheless, you watched Hongjoong’s demo carefully. If you had to make a tool roll, you were going to make the best goddamned tool roll you could. Maybe you’d even actually get around to buying tools for it. 

Hongjoong’s thin fingers expertly flatten the cut leather into his desired shapes. Then, he began to stitch a pocket shut. Turning the leather in his hands, he cuts off the excess string and pulls a lighter out of his apron. His thumb runs over the grooved gear, and a tall flame appears before him. He lights the ends before pressing them into the leather. He passes the leather around for everyone to observe as he answers someone’s questions. 

When it finally arrives in your hands, you’re impressed at the neat and straight stitches he’d done in such a short time. Two perfectly circular black dots are stamped into the leather where Hongjoong burned the end of the stitches. You run your thumb over the hardened thread and pass the piece along. 

When the unfinished tool roll is back in his hands, he takes a fork-shaped tool from his apron and drops it into the pocket he’d just created. “There you go,” he says, rolling the leather and showing it to the rest of the class. “That’s the jist of it. Obviously, you guys are gonna have to stitch in a lot more pockets.” With light laughs, everybody disperses back to their tables and begins to work on the leather Jongho had passed out.

Maybe sitting so far away from the instructor wasn’t a good idea, and it was definitely too late to move now. The beginners near the front kept Hongjoong from venturing further back into the classroom where you sat, utterly confused, and Jongho was proving to be frustratingly useless, not straying more than a couple of feet away from Hongjoong’s side. With a downturned face, you look down at your uncut leather and decide it’s better to start than being left behind. 

Taking a silver pen and ruler, you measure out the areas of the leather you wanted to cut. After double-checking, you take the pizza-cutter-looking tool and stand to cut along the soft lines you’d left on the dark brown hide. You hold up a rectangular piece of leather in your hands, feeling proud.

Next, you pick up a tool that looked similar enough to what Hongjoong had used and start marking the leather. Standing up, you begin to mark the folds of pockets. As you forcefully start pressing into the hide, you’re surprised when a thin string of leather comes up with it. That didn’t happen when Hongjoong marked his leather. Your eyes widen, but you’re already several inches down the length of your leather and decide it’s too late to stop. 

In your speechless state, you’d failed to notice Hongjoong standing at the corner of your table. “That’s an advanced technique,” he says with a laugh, and you feel your cheeks warm. “But you probably want to use a scratch awl for this part,” he adds. 

Great, I’ve successfully made a fool of myself in front of the cute leather guy. 

Boys were not on your radar, and for good reason, you think. You’d seen too many freshmen caught up in the new freedom that university provided them, reveling in the alcohol and hookups, only to turn around and get their hearts broken by a boy that doesn’t know any better. Grades slip, moods worsen, and next thing you know, they’ve wasted thousands in tuition. 

Your friend had become the most recent and most unfortunate example. Granted, you were seniors right on the cusp of graduation, but that didn’t stop her from behaving like a naive freshman. That could not and would not be you. Never in this lifetime. 

But, that didn’t stop you from having crushes on obviously attractive people. 

Hongjoong looks around the table, and when he fails to find an extra scratch awl, he pulls his own out of his apron. “Here,” he hands you a tool sleeker than the used and abused tools at the table. “Let’s leave the advanced techniques to the experts, shall we?”

You want to roll your eyes, but the embarrassment is overbearing and all you can do is take the scratch awl from Hongjoong’s hands. Thankfully, he’s called over by the more eager students in the front, and you’re left holding on to his tool in your palms. 

The deep dark brown of the wooden handle feels cool between your fingers, and with a cleared throat, you begin to mark the leather again. Hongjoong’s scratch awl is sharpened and glides across the leather smoothly. You spend an ample amount of time hunched over the piece of leather marking out even pockets. Slipping Hongjoong’s scratch awl in your skirt pocket, you grab a spool of brown thread and two needles. 

After a couple of mishaps, you think you’re really getting the hang of the saddle stitch. Pulling the thread taut, you double-check the back of your project to find a neatly aligned row of brown stitches. Not once did you go through the thread. With a satisfied smile, you flip the leather back over to the front and snip off the additional thread. 

You look for the neon orange lighter on the wooden table. When you finally look up, you find the rest of your tablemates have already completed several rows of stitches. You spot the lighter near the edge and grab it before drawing your attention back to your piece. 

Don’t bring yourself down, dumbass. It’s literally your first time trying this. This is an INTERMEDIATE class. You breathe in and nod at the voice in your head. 

With the lighter in hand, you copy Hongjoong’s movements from the demo. Nothing. You run your thumb over the grooved gear and roll it down. Again, nothing. 

You sit up straighter and crack your neck. Thumb over gear, run it downwards quickly. Nothing!

“Need help?” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you away from your frustrated actions. He’d rounded his way into the back of the room again and had been watching your amusing struggle for a few moments now. He leans across the table, elbows resting inches away from your hand. You try one more time before dropping the lighter in his outstretched palm. 

“I think something might be wrong with it,” you tell him without meeting his eyes. It was absolute bullshit. You knew it worked. He knew it worked. Your elderly tablemates, who’d used it ample times prior to you, knew it worked. 

You hear him jokingly scoff before closing his hand around the lighter. Rolling it between his fingers, he waves it in front of you. When you finally look at him, you wish you hadn’t.

With a knowing smirk plastered on his face, he holds the lighter some inches from your face. He places his thumb over the gear and runs it down quickly, pressing the red tab into the metal of the lighter. A quick flame appears and behind it, you can see it reflecting in his dark eyes. 

He drags your leather closer to him and burns the end of the wax threads. The ends of the brown thread glow yellow before quickly turning black. With a quick flick of his wrist, Hongjoong uses the bottom of the lighter to press the ends down into the stitches, and you can’t stop staring at him. 

You’re not sure, but as his eyes bounce between the burned and flattened ends, you think there’s glitter on his lids. Your eyes flicker down to his exposed arms. His long sleeves have been rolled up, and you're finally seeing the details of the ink that's decorating his skin. The black painted on his fingernails is neat, not crossing into the pink of his skin. He’s so pretty. 

With a smug smile, he turns your piece in between his palms. “Well, would you look at that? Looks like it’s working just fine.” But he’s also so cocky, so in response, you snatch the piece back with a mumbled thanks.

You keep your head down and focus on stitching the other side of your first pocket into the leather. When it comes time to cut the excess thread and burn the ends, you end up asking one of the ladies at your table, who sympathetically helps you. 

Before you know it, Hongjoong’s complimenting everyone on doing a great job and wishing everyone a good night. You look down at the singular pocket you’d managed to stitch into your leather. It seems as if there are endless sighs encapsulating your body, as yet another one escapes. You shove the leather into your bag and slip on your coat as the workshop begins to empty.

“Hey!” 

You turn and find Hongjoong leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He tilts his head and takes in your outfit. Under his gaze, you feel silly in your cream thermal leggings, pink sweater, pink skirt, and even pinker winter coat and shift your legs as Hongjoong moves to stand in front of you. With an outstretched palm, he says, “My scratch awl.”

Your eyes widen, and you pad the pockets of your skirt. Hongjoong watches your bag slip off your shoulders as you search one pocket, and then the other. The last thing you wanted was to look like a thief. You knew Hongjoong could tell you were only a novice, but you prayed he could also tell you weren’t planning on doing more leatherwork than you’d done today and his scratch awl would be of absolutely zero realistic use to you. 

Feeling the smooth wood under your skirt, you pull out the scratch awl from your pocket and place it in his palms, wordlessly. Being attracted to him was bad, but being embarrassed in front of Hongjoong was worse, you decide. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says with a deep smile. “You know, a girl really should know how to turn on a lighter,” he shrugs as you’re readjusting your bag over your shoulders. You roll your eyes and turn to the front door. “See you soon!” he shouts just as the door closes behind you. 

Yeah, right.

*****

“So, how was the class?” your friend slyly asks, sliding down into the empty seat next to you in the lecture hall early the following morning. At your fiery eyes, she slides a warm coffee towards, “Hey! Look, I came with a peace offering!”

“Fuck you,” you tell her with a sarcastically sweet smile, taking the coffee from her hands. Digging through your bag, you finally pull out the unfinished piece. 

She plucks the piece from your hands. “Hey, look at this! Couldn’t have been that bad if you ended up making a… a…” she hesitantly turns the leather in her hands. “Sorry babes, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”

“It’ll become a tool roll,” you shove the piece back in your bag. “Eventually,” you add, leaning back into the lecture hall’s uncomfortable chairs. 

“Eventually? So you’re going back?” she asks, pulling out her laptop.

“God, no. The instructor was a dick.” Failing to mention the fact he was also hot as hell, you continue, “But I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”

You were naturally inclined to be determined. It was easy to rely on people and just as easy to be disappointed by them. So if there was work to be done that you could do by yourself, you would do it by yourself. 

The rest of the day passes as every day before it. You stuff as much information as you can down your throat, and when you get home, you print off practice worksheets and exams to prepare for the following week. 

As you make your way through the packets of paper, Hongjoong’s piercing gaze flashes across your mind more often than you’d like. You know, a girl really should know how to turn on a lighter. You cynically shake your head. What good would knowing that information do? You weren’t going to be stranded on an island anytime soon. A lighter would be the last thing on your mind should a nuclear war break out. Besides, you knew how to light matches. What more could you possibly need?

Taking a break from the practice exam, you pull the unfinished tool roll out of your bag. You knew at the very least you’d need a spool of thread and a needle to finish it. Looking online, you’re left more confused than when you started. Threads have different thicknesses? You run a finger over your stitches, unable to gauge a sense of thickness. Minutes into researching the needles, you slam your laptop shut and figure it’d be better to suck up your ego and begrudgingly give Outlaw Leather another visit.

With sleep no longer on your radar, you print off another practice exam and flip through the pages. Sleepless nights weren’t new to you. In fact, it was an unfortunate fact how common they’d become. Leaning back in your chair, you decide to take a walk to the convenience store underneath your apartment to grab some snacks to accompany your late-night studying endeavors.

The fluorescents of the store shake the remnants of sleep that were lingering, and with a sigh, you rummage through the selection of packaged foods. Creating a combination of possibly the most heart attack inducing foods and pain medication, you fill your basket to the brim and make your way to the register. 

The convenience store clerk starts scanning the myriad of late night snacks and pain killers. As you’re watching the total climb higher and higher, you flick your eyes to the plastic container in front of the register lined with standing lighters. 

A lighter would be more useful than matches during an apocalypse. You could reuse it several more times than a wooden matchstick. With a scoffed laugh, you roll your eyes. Hongjoong’s cocky stare still irritated you. But the other part of you feared he was right; you should know how to light a lighter just in case an apocalypse was on the radar. 

With a shake of your head, you card through the patterns, find one decorated in pink and red hearts and place it next to your unscanned items. “I’ll take one of these, too.”

*****

Several sleepless nights pass by before you’re eventually too frustrated looking at the incomplete tool roll sitting pathetically on your desk. On the following Friday after classes, you walk into Outlaw Leather with a mission in mind: Get some needles, get a spool, and get the fuck out. 

“Back already, sweetheart? Did you miss me that bad?” Hongjoong calls out from behind the register. 

You were better prepared this time around. You had straightened your back and smoothed out the ruffles in your pink skirt before stepping foot inside the shop. “Please, you’re like the stereotype personified. If I had to take a guess, I’d say your shitty motorcycle’s parked out back, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” he steps closer to you. “Want me to take you on a drive sometime?”

“Ugh, as if,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Hongjoong says, his smile never faltering, “Why are you here then?”

You unzip your backpack and take out your leather roll, and maintaining eye contact with Hongjoong, you toss your unfinished piece on the counter. “I have to finish this. It doesn’t look the way it should, and I need it to look the way it has to. Besides, I don’t have any of the supplies I need to make any progress myself.”

Hongjoong picks up the leather and runs his fingers along the groove of your stitches. Suddenly, the self-conscious shame creeps its way up to your cheeks. Looking at Hongjoong’s finished and polished pieces on the wall was more than enough to feel incompetent, and you can’t help but wonder how silly he thinks you look mocking an actual expert like him with your badly cut and sewn tool roll. 

But if he does think you’re mocking him, he doesn’t mention it, instead saying, “It doesn’t have to look any certain way, you know that right? What I did during class was just a template. You’re supposed to customize it.” When you don’t respond, he observes your piece with a sigh and adds, “But I guess I can get you headed in the right direction.” He rounds the register and holds the piece out for you to take. 

You follow him as he weaves through the store, picking out a pair of needles and a dark brown threaded spool. As he explains the differences between the sizes of needles and thickness of the thread, you try to follow along as best you can. The sleep you’d gotten the night before was abysmal and classes had been an absolute horror today, but you don’t think you can go home only to stare at an incomplete project that definitely should’ve been done by now.

“Thanks, I’ll just do it at home,” you take the spool of thread and the needles from him and turn towards the register. 

“You know, the labs are meant for people to come and work at,” he says. The mischievous look takes over his face as he adds, “Besides, we don’t want you taking another trip down here in your pretty skirts now, do we? The weather isn’t very forgiving these days.”

You look down at the thread and then your outfit. If you went back home and your friend saw you with a spool of thread hunched over this stupid piece of unfinished leather, you’d never live it down. And it was chilly outside. And you didn’t want to go home only to be distracted by your assignments. “Okay,” you tell him. Hongjoong points you to the back of the store with a toothy grin, and you take a seat at the empty lab tables and watch him linger for a moment before turning back to the register with a smile.

It takes you some time before you’re able to get in the groove, but once you’ve marked out the remaining pockets on the leather, you take a deep breath and start sewing. And as the hour passes, you think you’re doing quite well, stitching in pocket after pocket, until you’re not.

“Joongie!” a shrill voice calls out from the front of the shop. In clicking shoes, a not-so modestly dressed girl comes running into the store. After pushing past a confused Jongho, she sprints towards Hongjoong. 

“Hi,” a sweet giggle rumbles in his throat. He holds his arms out, and the girl finds her away into them, settling her jaw over his shoulder and ruffling his hair. “Alright, alright,” he says, pushing his hair back. “Ready to get your measurements taken?”

The girl nods, and Hongjoong leads her away to what looks like an office which just happened to be so unfortunately in the direct line of your vision. 

You try your hardest not to look or listen to them, forcing your eyes down on the half-sewn pocket, but when the girl shrugs off her fur coat, you can’t help yourself. She’s dressed in a tight black cropped tank top that surely does nothing to protect her from the cold. She tosses the fur coat over a chair and laughs at something Hongjoong says. There’s a low ringing in your ears, and momentarily, you’re glad you can’t hear their conversation.

You watch Hongjoong take a measuring tape from a desk drawer and frown as he wraps it around her waist. It deepens when he measures the curve of her breasts next. All while happily conversing with her, he takes a final measurement of her hips. 

You look back down at your nearly finished tool roll and sigh. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in your chest, and you think you certainly must look ugly. Your head aches from being in a frustrated frown all day, and you think the beginnings of blisters are forming on the pads of your fingers from pinching the thick needles for hours on end. 

It was jealousy. It felt misplaced and dirty in your system, like a bottomless pit eager only to take and never to give. Here you were sitting in your own misery, shaming a girl that you’d never met and judging her clothing. You zone back into the row and diligently stitch along the line. 

When you finish the row and decide to take a break, your eyes and ears find their way back to Hongjoong’s little office. 

“What color?” he asks her.

As she’s slipping her coat back on she responds with, “Hot rod red.”

Hot rod red. She wanted the corset to be hot rod red. Hot? Rod? Red? Would you ever have the nerve to wear something so daring? Probably not. You turn back to your unfinished roll, and with an angered vigor, you start stitching again. 

The girl leaves giving Hongjoong yet another tight hug and ruffling his hair, but you’re still sitting on the uncomfortable stool, sewing away a storm. Your neck is in a world of pain, begging for a release, but you’re adamant on finishing.

The shop is quiet, and after taking the girl’s measurements, Hongjoong has been locked away in the office. The sun has since set, and besides Jongho’s occasionally sweet voice conversing with customers or humming along to the quiet radio, the silence in the store leaves you in a focused trance. Just a half-hour before closing, you finish burnishing the final corners of the roll.

When you stand, you want to immediately sit back down and sleep against the rough grain of the lab table, but you place one foot in front of the other and make your way to the register where Hongjoong is now seated.

“Not bad,” he says, with a cocky smile. He looks at the tool roll clutched tightly between your hands. He sees the leather cinching around the stitches but chooses to not tell you your stitches are too tight when he notices how exhausted you look. Your shoulders are slumped, head low, and fingers are red. The smile disappears from his face, and just as you’re grabbing your receipt from his hands, he stops you, rounding the register. 

“Whoa, hold on a second,” he says, taking your hand between his. He looks at the reddened and raw pads of your fingers. “You should’ve worn the protectors, sweetheart. Come here,” he takes your hand and leads you to the sink near the back of the workshop. 

Cool water runs over your fingers, and you sigh, letting your eyes shut momentarily.

“What are you thinking about?” Hongjoong asks, studying your finally relaxed face.

“An exam I have next week,” you lie, opting to omit the truth. And it wasn’t entirely untrue. You did have an exam next week. You should probably print off a practice exam when you get back. 

“God, you need to shut that brain of yours off and get some sleep,” he says, no malice in his voice.

You open your eyes and watch the water splash over your fingers. “Yeah, that’d be a real miracle,” you reply with a scoff. 

“Have trouble sleeping?” His grip on your hand loosens. 

You shrug while curling your fingers under the gentle stream of cool water and respond, “Only since the last semester. Probably just stress. I think I’m good now.” You take your hand from Hongjoong’s and shake off the dripping water.

“Hold on,” Hongjoong bends down and open the drawer underneath the sink to pull out a first-aid kit. He flips the kit open and grabs a tiny tube of cooling gel. “I went through like a dozen of these when I was starting out,” he sighs, squeezing out a little green gel. When you slightly wince, he sighs again and gently spreads the gel over the pads of your fingers saying, “Just wear the protectors next time, okay sweetheart?”

You probably weren’t coming back here. You probably won't run into Hongjoong again. You didn’t think any more leather projects were on your radar, and your friend had already moved on to a different hobby. 

Nonetheless, you watch Hongjoong’s fingers run over yours, spreading the gel, and nod.

*****

You were back.

Now that you were finished with that god-forsaken tool roll you had no tools for, your life should’ve continued on normally. You should’ve gone straight to the library after your classes to get started on a presentation that was due next week. You should’ve. You knew you should’ve, but here you were standing outside the entrance of Outlaw Leather a week later. 

You couldn’t think straight at all for the past week, although that may have been due to the lack of sleep. When you found your feet taking you downtown to Hongjoong’s shop, you tried to justify your need to be there. Now, at the entrance, you still had nothing. 

Taking out your lighter, you run your thumb over the grooved gear and run it down. A flame appears. You let go, and it disappears. With some late-night practice and tutorials, you were eventually able to figure the lighter out. You repeat the process over and over again while internally debating whether or not you want to go in. 

Eventually, Jongho’s peeking head appears through the slightly opening door. “Are you planning on coming in or are you just gonna stand there?” You take a shaky step towards the entrance of the shop and let Jongho hold the door open for you with a small thanks.

During the early evening, the shop was quiet with a few lingering customers. With padded footsteps, you make your way to Hongjoong’s office, no clear indication of why you were gracing him with your presence on a Thursday evening.

He’s sitting at his desk, sketching out a pattern for a project you can’t make out. You stand for a moment, watching his laser-focused eyes following the graphite of pencil. His downturned lips and furrowed brow soften up his rough features, and you can’t help but think how cute he looks when he’s not smirking. 

At the thought, you shake your head and clear your throat to get his attention. 

The chair swivels around, and his signature smirk makes its way to Hongjoong’s face. “Thought you’ve already finished the tool roll?”

“That’s not why I’m here.” Why AM I here?

Twirling the pencil between his pretty fingers, he leans back into the chair. “Oh? Then how can I help you, sweetheart?” 

You say the first thing you could think of, which unfortunately for you, ends up being, “I want a corset.” I do?

“You do?”

“I do.”

His smirk only deepens as he turns around to pull a sheet of paper out of one of his drawers. Attaching to a clipboard, he hands you the sheet and turns around to stack the sketches into a pile. “Fill that out, and we’ll get started.”

You look down at the sheet. A large portion for it is for Hongjoong, requiring specific measurements, but the top portion is for you. 

Thankfully, Hongjoong’s turned around and clearing off his desk when your eyes widened comically at the listed price without any special embellishments. Fuck it. You start filling in your name and address. 

“I’ll take your measurements today and have a guide ready to go by tomorrow. When you come in tomorrow, I’ll double-check my initial measurements and see how they fit, and then I can start. That sound good to you?” He leans against his now cleared desk.

“Yeah,” you tell him, not looking up from the clipboard. Having mercy on your bank account, you decide to forgo any embellishments and hand the clipboard back to Hongjoong. As he’s scanning your information, the cockiness splattered across his features has you believing this is resting face.

“Okay sweetheart, let’s make you a corset.” You nod at him, awaiting his next instructions. He stares at you, the twirling pencil in fingers slowing when you stare back. His smirk deepens. “The sweater’s gotta come off.”

You had clearly not thought this through. You just had a simple bra under your thick knitted sweater, and you didn’t have an extra camisole or tank with you. You tug at one of the stitches on your sleeve, “Can’t you measure over the sweater?”

“No can do, unless you want to pay me to make something that’s not going to fit you,” he shrugs. 

You look outside the door of Hongjoong’s office. Jongho was restocking some inventory, and the few customers inside had their back turned to you while deciding how much of a roll they wanted to cut. At your hesitancy, Hongjoong’s teasing takes a break, and with a gentle voice, he asks, “Do you want me to close the door?”

You nod at his offer, and he steps in front of you to click the door shut. As the door closes, the room opens up, and you’re able to spot an unmade queen size bed in the corner. 

“You sleep here?”

“Sure do,” he says, hands resting on his hips. With a deep breath, you lift the sweater over your head. Hongjoong’s next remark catches in his throat when you’ve pulled off your adorable pink sweater and are left in only with an equally adorable lacey pink bra that wraps snuggly around your chest. He shakes away the interrupting thoughts before saying, “You are standing in my bedroom, after all.”

The conversation distracts you from the chill you feel standing almost naked in an attractive guy’s bedroom. Holding the sweater in your crossed arms, you ask “This is your bedroom?”

“Yeah,” he says with a little laugh. He rounds your body and grabs the tape measure from his desk. You hold your breath when he takes in your covered torso. “The sweater’s gotta go all the way, sweetheart,” he says, rolling his desk chair between the two of you. 

With a pout, you hang your sweater over the back of his chair, and let your arms dangle at your sides. Hongjoong rolls the chair back to its spot and steps closer to you. The fire you had in you retires to the back burner when Hongjoong’s scent fills your nose. He taps your elbows with a quiet, “Arms up,” as he steps even closer to round the measuring tape around your body. 

The tension is palpable, and Hongjoong has dove headfirst into getting accurate measurements in silence. Normally, you wouldn’t mind it, but he smells like a godly combination of spice and leather, you’re embarrassingly horny now, and you’re standing partially naked in his bedroom.

Taking a look around his room, your eyes flicker over a wall of pictures, some polaroid, some printed, some cut out from magazines. On his desk, there’s a half painted shoe next to a fully painted shoe. Many more clothing items are hung near or around his desk with patches cut out from the fabric of the arms and the back. 

When you turn to look back at his bed, you’re surprised at how comfortable it looks. While it's clearly unmade, the plaid gray sheets look clean and homely. The pillows and duvet are well used, and the thought of taking a nap here sounds a little too nice. 

“Your room doesn’t match your aesthetic,” you tell him when the cool plastic of the tape measure makes contact with your hot skin.

You feel Hongjoong’s breath against your neck when he tightens the tape around your waist. “Oh, yeah? What’d you expect my bedroom to look like?”

With a light shrug, you ponder out loud, “I don’t know, I thought it’d be more edgy and less… wholesome.” You nod at the smiling pictures of him on the wall.

Hongjoong quickly follows your trailing eyes and laughingly scoffs again. “So, just because I work with leather, you expect me to sleep on a cow hide or something?” You’re embarrassed at what you’ve implied and shrink in on yourself. “You’re so tense. It’d help you to relax,” Hongjoong laughs with a light poke at your hips. 

The fire finds its way back to you at his relentlessly teasing tone. “I don’t want to relax, I want a corset.”

To measure your hips, he kneels on one knee and looks up at you. “Mhm, and what are you going to do with a corset?”

“Wear it,” you answer down at him, brows furrowed as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What, and mess up your cute sweater numbers? I don’t think you would, sweetheart,” he says, standing back up. “Besides, I don’t really think it matches your aesthetic,” he says, throwing your own words back in your face.

It should’ve been off-putting and unattractive, this behavior. You should’ve been rolling your eyes and cringing at his words. But instead, your nipples were hard, and you were praying they weren’t visible through your bra.

“I will wear it,” you say with stuttering confidence. 

“Mhm,” Hongjoons says, writing down the measurements onto the slip you’d filled out earlier. “What color?”

“What?”

“What color do you want it to be?”

The words hot rod red are begging to fly out of your mouth, but if you were going to be paying for a custom corset, you figure it should at least be to your liking. “Can you do pink? Like this kind?” you ask, pinching the fabric of your pastel pink sweater between your fingers.

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips curve into a smirk, and he nods, writing it down on the checklist. “Yeah sweetheart, I can do pink.”

*****

The next day, you walk into Outlaw Leather much later than you were supposed to. Just as Jongho’s turning you away while pointing at the hours posted on the door, Hongjoong emerges from his office. 

“I’ve got this, man. You can clock out.” And with a wave from Jongho, you and Hongjoong remain in the empty store. 

Hongjoong quietly leads you to his bedroom. “You can wait in here, just give me a couple minutes to close up.”

His room looks cozier with the harsh tube light turned off, letting only the golden glow of the few lamps illuminate the space. His bed’s still unmade, but it looks extra comfortable in soft yellow light.

On his desk sits a thick strip of black-dyed leather. Taking it in your hands, you feel the rigid strip fold under your touch and run your fingers along the textured front. It felt cool and rough, but you stroke the strip between your fingers nonetheless. 

“That’s not for you, sweetheart. Although, I’d be happy to make you one,” Hongjoong’s voice startles you, and you turn to see him in the doorway. His eyes flick down to your hips, and you gently place the belt back on his desk, warmth pooling in your stomach.

“Sorry,” you wipe your hands on your pants and look at the pink leather in his hands. 

The tint on the leather is a delicate pastel, just like you asked, and the cut of the hide has your breath hitched. The stitching in the corset is delicate, but striking. Even in your awe, you were confused. The corset looked finished, polished and ready to wear; even if there were adjustments to be made, you were sure there wasn’t much he could adjust now. 

Nonetheless, you grab the edges of your sweater. When you slip it off over your head and hang it on his chair, you miss the disappointed look that fleetingly flickers across Hongjoong’s face. You’d worn a camisole underneath your sweater today to save yourself from the embarrassing predicament you’d put yourself in only yesterday. 

Moving behind you, he orders, “Arms up.” Hongjoong wraps the corset around your waist and pulls you flush to him, closing it. You gasp in a surprised breath when your back collides with his hardened chest. “So, so tense, sweetheart,” he breathes into your neck, and you can hear his smile. Goosebumps rise up your back, and you don’t respond to him, keeping your breath held. “Is this too tight?”

“No,” you swallow the collecting saliva in your mouth. Hongjoong backs away, slipping the corset away from your torso.

“Alright,” he moves around your still body, laying the corset next to the black belt and adds, “I’ll condition the leather, and it’ll be ready for you to pick up tomorrow.”

Well, that was fast. “Thanks,” you send him a short smile and reach to grab your sweater off the back of his desk chair, hiding your disheartedness. You wanted to stay longer and do something, you didn’t want to go home. You wanted to stay in this room and not think about your assignments or exams. Over your shoulder, you look back at Hongjoong’s bed.

“You know, I read an interesting article the other day,” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Didn’t peg you as a reader,” you say, but when you catch Hongjoong looking stupidly sexy rolling his big, beautiful eyes at you, you add, “What’d you read?”

His hips lean back into his desk, arms crossed over his chest, shrugging, “It wasn’t much, but it did say something about how beneficial orgasms are at helping insomniacs.”

You freeze, and your eyes widen. Of course, you’d already known this. After the first couple of sleepless nights passed, you did extensive research trying to find the best remedy for yourself. 

Relax your body. This can be done through a variety of different methods. To most effectively and efficiently relax your muscles, let your body experience somatic arousal.

You’d shut your laptop and settled on trying aromatherapy and meditation instead. When days turned into weeks, you’d gotten desperate and brought a tiny vibrator which you carried around. Just in case.

“Yeah, I know,” you say with a sigh. The tiredness that ran through your body had dissipated the shame you’d usually felt, and you reach into your bag to pull out the hot pink vibrator and dangle it in front of Hongjoong’s face, “But if this hasn’t been able to get the job done, I don’t think anything will.”

For a moment, the shock is vividly apparent on Hongjoong’s face, and the shame in your body is ready to resurface with a vengeance. But just as quickly as it comes, it disappears when Hongjoong’s face twists into a smirk. The same cocky smirk you’d been using to get off in these past few weeks. 

The smirk turns into a mocking pout as Hongjoong snatches the vibrator from your hands. “You poor thing. How many orgasms do you give yourself every night?”

The warmth in your cheeks spreads down your neck and pools in your stomach. “Uhm, I— just one, usually,” you say, looking down at the floor of Hongjoong’s room. 

You hear him scoff and look up to see his haughty attitude return. “You think one orgasm’s going to put you to sleep?”

“Yes?” you respond incredulously. The mixture of emotions swirling through your mind were doing a great job at confusing you, but never did you think you’d stand in Hongjoong’s room while he judges how you choose to cure your insomnia.

“One orgasm is hardly going to do anything, let alone relax you enough to sleep,” Hongjoong says, polished nails thumbing through the settings on the vibrator. “In fact,” he says, stepping much too close to you, “I’m willing to bet you’ve never even experimented with the higher settings.” His soft breath fans across your face, and you look away from him, focusing your attention on anything else in his room.

You hear a chuckle rumbling from his chest as your silence proves him right. His thumb gently grabs your chin, and he redirects your eyes back to him, asking, “Would you like to?”

You dryly swallow and stare at him. Fuck it all to hell. You eagerly lean into his lips and kiss him fervently. When you feel his stupid, cocky smile against your lips, you press harder and let your teeth teasingly sink down on his lower lip. Accomplished pride blooms in your chest as he gasps and pulls away.

“You know the color system?” When you nod, he pulls you closer, “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” you breathlessly respond, and his lips are back on yours. Hongjoong roughly grabs at your hips, slipping his hands under the thin pink camisole. He pushes you towards his bed, and when your knees collide with its frame, he pulls away again.

“Sit,” he orders, and you follow. With your hands on either side of you, you look up at Hongjoong from his plaid gray sheets excited, enamored, and eager. Hongjoong releases a shuddered breath at your pliant eyes before he kneels in front of you.

Today was exceptionally cold, and you’d opted to overgo your pink skirts in favor of a pair of thick pants. Hongjoong’s hands bunch at the material to tug it down your legs, and you back up further onto his bed and raise your hips in effort to help him. Once they're off, he tosses them carelessly onto his floor and pushes you to lay back against his pillows. 

Other than your pants, Hongjoong made no effort to remove any of your other clothing, letting his lips slot against yours once again. His hand finds the warm flesh of the skin between your thighs, and with the other he caresses your jaw. Unable to keep away, you reach for his neck and feel the dangling silver of his earrings tickle your fingers.

“You’ll be good for me, won’t you sweetheart?” His request is soft and whispered against your lips, but at your delayed response, his roughened hand kneads your thigh harder. “Won’t you?”

You pull away from him to answer, “I will,” and try to chase after him, but much to your disappointment, Hongjoong leans back.

A low buzz comes from between his fingers, and you realize your forgotten vibrator was still in Hongjoong’s hands. At the noise, you feel yourself getting wetter, your underwear now uncomfortably clinging to your skin. 

Squirming to adjust yourself, your thighs close around Hongjoong’s hands. He smiles at the action and takes his hand away from your jaw. “Hands.”

Confused, you stop your squirming and bring your hands between your bodies. His hands wrap around your wrists, pushing them above your head and pressing the vibrator over your underwear in one quick motion. 

A surprised whimper escapes your lips. The tight grip of his hands feels so good around your wrists, but the stimulation from the vibrator felt torturously low over your cotton panties.

“Feels good, right sweetheart?” He wiggles the vibrator over your clit and laughs lowly when you roll your hips to meet his movements. “This is what you’re used to, isn’t it? Level 1?” It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build even if the buzz of the vibrator was dull. 

Usually, this process would take you much more time. It’d have to be well into the night, your roommate fallen asleep long ago. The work at your desk should no longer have the capacity to take any more of your attention, and sleep should be the last thing on your mind. You had a playlist, a hot celebrity’s shirtless picture, and most importantly, privacy. 

But the woody smell of Hongjoong’s cologne, his calloused hands at your thighs, and his cocky self-satisfied smile had you close in no time.

“Please, please,” you ask, rolling your hips. Hongjoong presses against you and holds the vibrator down, and you whimper pathetically.

“Gonna cum already?” Hongjoong asks, devilishly smiling down at you. “That’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and cum for me.”

And you do. With your eyes closed, you let your head fall back against Hongjoong’s pillows and slightly tug your hands in his grip. Your orgasm comes quick and hard, the buzz finally falling away from your clit. 

Catching your breath, you open your eyes to look up at Hongjoong zeroed in on the sight between your legs. Unfortunately for you, you now feel more awake than you’ve ever felt and letting the reality of the situation sink in, shut your legs. 

Hongjoong doesn’t let your actions faze him, and instead, he moves to rub the skin of your hips. “Felt good?” You nod, but before you could let your overthinking thoughts interrupt him, he adds, “I bet it did, but look at you. There’s a mess in your cute panties, and I can hear your heart beating from here. I’d barely call this relaxed, barely enough to get you sleeping.”

“I—” You knew that, but you truly thought one would do the trick. Instead, your hips felt stiff, and the stickiness in your underwear was begging to be taken care of. I want more, I NEED more. Collecting your rambled thoughts, you look back at Hongjoong who’s patiently waiting for your explanation. “Can you help me, please?”

An evil smile overtakes Hongjoong’s face and makes you clench disappointedly around nothing. “Of course I can help you, sweetheart.” You can feel yourself gushing, breathing out a sigh of relief when Hongjoong moves down to take off your underwear. 

“What a pretty mess you’ve made,” he says, hungrily looking at the result of your first orgasm. Your arousal leaked through your underwear, and you just know you’ve stained his sheets. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you still whine, wanting the panties out of the way.

Catching your intentions, Hongjoong simply laughs, grabbing the vibrator once more. It comes to life again, this time loud and more aggressively. Level 2.

Level 2 was uncharted territory. The night you’d gotten the vibrator, you’d turned on each setting while twirling the device between your fingers. 1 was fine, it felt low and steady. But having 2 turned on for only a minute numbed the pads of your fingers. You’d avoided Level 3 out of sheer fear, never even letting the setting touch your fingertips. 

Hongjoong doesn’t take your underwear off, no matter how much you squirm. Instead, he rubs your slick through your panties and wet his lips as he lets the vibrator rest against your thighs.

Slowly, he trails the pink bullet closer and closer to your pussy. Frustrated at his pace, you raise your hips in search of the vibrator. “You said you’d be good for me, sweetheart,” he teases. When he asks for your hands again, you give them away at record speed, only prompting more teasing. “I told you I’d help you, and I will,” he says, pinning your arms tightly above you.

The smile decorating Hongjoong’s face is dangerous, and then you realize you would do anything he asked you to. Here, in his room, on his bed, you were ready to become what you avoided so well for the past four years.

At your hitching breath, he nestles the vibrator onto your clit, the stimulation making your head spin. Letting him take away your arms felt good, too good, and when you tug against them, his hold only tightens, making you gush. 

“How’s Level 2 feel, hmm?” Hongjoong asks, kissing up your neck. It felt good; you know it did. It was stronger and made your leak with need, but the presence of your underwear was too overpowering.

With a newfound devotion and growing distaste of your wrecked panties, you tug again. “Joongie, please,” you whine. “Take them off,” you plead. 

As the nickname falls out of your lips, Hongjoong’s eyes darkly narrow and his smile falls away. Again, much to your disappointment, he lets your arms go. Moving the vibrator in slow, calculated circles, he takes his free and hooks his thumb under the waistband. 

“You come into my store, looking all pretty in pink, like a fucking angel, and you know what it makes me want to do, sweetheart?” You shake your head, and at the motion, the humming of the vibrator falls away from your clit. You feel a swift slap against your thighs. “Do you know what it makes me want to do?” Hongjoong enunciates for you, placing the vibrator back onto your clit, pressing down harder this time.

“No, I don’t know,” you breathlessly respond. Your thigh feels like it’s on fire, and you know your underwear is beyond saving. The stinging from the slap only builds your orgasm faster when Hongjoong speaks again. 

“It makes me want to ruin you,” he says, letting the band of underwear snap against your hips. “Will you let me ruin you?”

You’d think you would have learned your lesson by now, but you nod yet again and feel another slap against your other thigh. “Yes, I will! Please ruin me, please!” you beg as your second orgasm crashes down on you. 

Hongjoong turns the vibrator back down to Level 1 and leans in to give you a deep kiss. Your breath feels like it’s been knocked out of your lungs, and you let Hongjoong explore, letting him take more and more of your air as you ride out your high on his sheets.

You let your hands tangle in his hair, and you pull him closer. Bringing your knees towards your body, your knee grazing against Hongjoong’s hardened length, prompting you to pull away. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” You barely have time to register the new pet name before Hongjoong’s peeling your ruined underwear off. When the cool air of his room finally touches your exposed, wet pussy, you shiver before it’s quickly replaced with a moan when the vibrator makes contact with your clit again.

“Yes, but I…” you start, eyeing the unfinished belt on his desk before flicking your eyes back to him, “I want more.”

“Fuck,” he laughs following your line of sight. “Is that what you need, baby? You need someone to take your control from you? Be mean to you? Tie you up?”

You nod desperately. You feel like you’ve never wanted anything more, just letting Hongjoong give while all you do is take.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he gives you a quick kiss. Making quick of your response, Hongjoong gets off the bed and laughs at your poor state as he takes the vibrator with him. Taking the black belt from his desk, he hovers momentarily over your form, taking in your blown out eyes and panting chest. Your hardened nipples poke over your camisole, and there’s a glittery sheen of sweat across your collar. 

Hongjoong’s cock strains against the material of his pants at the sight of you so fucked out for him, but he quickly files the feeling away for later. Gliding his fingers between yours, he pushes them up to the wooden rails of his headboard, wrapping the leather of the belt and securing it around your wrists.

The leather feels cool on your steaming skin, and when Hongjoong has you tied up, you feel oddly relaxed, glad your hands are restrained, leaving yourself for Hongjoong to give you as much as he thought you needed. 

He leaves a soft kiss on the sides of your arms and trails downwards. Over your camisole, he places open kisses on your nipples, and you arch off the mattress, hungry for more. You wanted Hongjoong everywhere on your body, all at once. 

As the vibrator is back on your bare pussy, he bites at your nipple, his tongue wetting the thin material. Your eyes shut tightly in ecstasy, and incoherent words are tumbling out of your mouth, begging Hongjoong to not stop when he moves to give the other nipple the same treatment.

His deep laughter reverberates in your chest. “I don’t plan on it. More?” 

“Yes, please,” you ask through whining gasps, and he listens, trailing his kisses up to your neck. Sneakily, he ups the level on the vibrator, and the sudden, intense pleasure of Level 2 on your overwhelmed clit feels exhilarating, making your eyes cloud over with dark lust. 

“You’re such a good girl, asking so sweetly to be ruined,” Hongjoong says into your neck, biting little marks into the skin. “Poor thing, hmm? You just want a good night’s rest, right sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you sob, that’s all you wanted. You thrash against the bed, feeling insatiable. You hear the switch of the vibrator click again. Level 3, and it’s brutal. The vibration is unforgiving in its strong rhythm, and the way Hongjoong is pressing it just right onto your clit doesn’t help.

“Just want someone to shut that brain of yours off, fuck you dumb?”

Yes! You want to cry out as he plucks the thoughts from your mumbled mess, but the words never find themself and you choose to cry out pitifully instead. When the first tear rolls down your hot cheeks, Hongjoong’s dick painfully hardens in his pants. 

Behind the haze of your eyes, Hongjoong finds your thoughts leaving as your orgasm builds. He wants it all gone, all the exams and assignments melting away into nothing. Eager to please, he stuffs two fingers deep into your wet walls, and all it takes is a small, gentle curl of his fingers grazing against your sweet spot and you’re cumming with a soft cry.

The vibrator’s taken away from you again, but his fingers remain in your pulsing pussy, still curled deliciously. The phantom buzz of the ruthless Level 3 is still present on your clit, and you can feel another orgasm building from nothing. The sensitivity feels like a well-intentioned punishment, but your brain feels fried from the onslaught, ready to retire for the night.

Hongjoong splays his hand over your thigh, pushing them out of the way and takes in the mess he’s left at your weeping pussy. A wet patch of your dripping arousal and your pretty, swollen cunt throbbing around his fingers has him swallowing down his desire. “Okay, sweetheart, just one more. Can you take one more for me? I’ll put you to sleep, I promise.”

“Joongie, I can’t anymore,” you tell him through sobs, tugging at the belt. White spots are dancing in your vision, and you seriously think you’re going to pass out. Not that you would mind.

“Don’t you wanna sleep, pretty girl? I thought you wanted my help,” Hongjoong mocks from between your legs, cruelly curling his fingers upwards. At your desperately broken cries, with a softer voice, he travels up to kiss the shell of your ear, whispering, “Color?”

His gentle voice grounds you enough to let you respond, “Green.” You’re sure whatever else you’re saying makes no sense, but your legs part anyway, wanting everything Hongjoong wants to give you. 

“That’s my good girl,” he sends you a sweet kiss on your furrowed brows before he scissors both of his fingers inside of you, pumping and curling steadily. The pleasure has you releasing a stream of steady tears, slurred requests echoing in his room. 

His fingers are gone too soon, but feeling his hand at your jaw, you open your eyes. His fingers are dripping with your slick, and with wide eyes, you shamelessly lean forward and take them in your mouth, tasting yourself. Your tongue swirls around tasting the effects of Hongjoong’s efforts. 

“Fuck, you’re so precious, sweetheart,” you catch him saying as he takes his fingers out and wraps his hand around your throat. Your heartbeat quickens, but Hongjoong doesn’t apply any pressure, simply letting his hand rest around your throat as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

As his tongue explores once more, you roll your hips up, grazing his cock. You’re not sure how he’s able to stay so composed, not wanting or expecting reciprocation, but you grind upwards once more in hopes to relieve him a little. 

The pressure of hand just slightly increases, and he releases a deep, guttural groan, pulling away from you and pinning your hips into the bed, “Not tonight, pretty girl.” He leans back and lets his teeth graze his previously left marks, sucking them darker.

Trailing his hands up your body, he squeezes at your breasts under your camisole and nips at your exposed tummy. You’re grateful for him giving you time to recover from your back to back orgasms, but in this time, you feel your body’s pleas begging for sleep. Your eyelids were drooped, the exhaustion of everything weighing down on you. Your lethargic arms tugged at the belt, wanting to run your hands through Hongjoong’s hair. 

At your frustrated whine, Hongjoong looks up from your tummy to find your lips folding into a cute pout, and he sends you a sweet smile. Moving back, he kneels in front of your tired body. With his cool hands, he grabs the underside of your thighs and pushes them back, head dropping down to your delectable pussy. Shooting you a smug grin, his tongue attacks, sucking away at your far too sensitive clit.

Feeling your thighs tense in his hold at the pleasure, Hongjoong moans into your cunt, sending delicious vibrations up your body. His warm tongue flicks back and forth, spelling out something into your pussy. In your unfocused trance, you try to make out the letters and let out a hiccuped cry when you realize what it is. S, W, E, E, T, H, E, A, R, T. 

He takes a break to suck at your clit, nipping and licking away. And it feels heavenly, different than the vibrator, better than the vibrator. You find yourself thinking you might never need it again when Hongjoong groans against you as you roll your hips into his face. You don’t think you’d ever feel this good, afraid of becoming addicted to the drug-like euphoria. 

Your last orgasm comes quickly, Hongjoong’s tongue making quick work with your overstimulated clit. You come with a strained cry, trying to close your trembling legs around Hongjoong’s head. 

You let all your thoughts and worries fall away, jerking against Hongjoong’s bed, rutting yourself onto his tongue. Your sharp whines and tiny cries do nothing more than make Hongjoong irresistibly want you, but flicking his eyes up to your obliterated form, he falls back, choosing to caress your shaky legs through your orgasm. 

You’re not sure how, but you feel weightless and heavy at the same time. Your eyelids refuse to open, and on your exhausted limbs, you can feel Hongjoong’s warm breath peppering kisses onto the heated skin as he undoes the belt around your wrists. You feel him gently place tender kisses to each wrist, whispering soft words of praise, before sleep overtakes your body. 

Sometime later, your heavy eyelids blink open when you feel a warm rag against your thighs. “You can sleep, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you,” Hongjoong’s deep voice says, lulling you back into a well-deserved deep sleep.

Author's Note II: What'd you guys think? There's actually a nearly completed scene I wrote for this fic that just didn't fit into the actual story, but I'm thinking of releasing it as a bonus sometime in the next few weeks (wink wonk) so definitely look forward to that :) Thank you so much for reading, much love <3

taglist: @arafilez

[meltingmidas]

Hi hi!! My name is Midas :>

- I’m a full time college student and full time worker, so I apologize for my irregular posting.

- I mostly write smut.. but here and there I like fluff and wholesome imagines.

- Currently I only write for Atz! BUT I am working on adding Monsta X & Oneus to the mix 🫣

- The more I write I will add more to my pinned!

- NO MINORS!! I will block if your age is not in bio, pleaaase be smart 🫶🏻

- If someone would like to help me set up a theme and teach me how to add links DM ME PLEAASEE. I wanna make this place look pretty for my smut 🎀

[meltingmidas]

110.0%

Paring: Uni Professor!Hwa x Uni Student!Reader

CW: DomHwa/SubReader, SLIGHT choking, oral m. receiving, degrading, dumbification, hair pulling, Hwa is mean lol (pls lmk if I missed anything!)

WC: 810

Midas’s Notes: Woah Hello!! This is my first ever fic! I apologize for the mess, I’m still trying to set up my theme and structure for this acc..I hope you guys enjoyed my mediocre writing, please leave critiques and tips, or just anything you liked/would like to see more of!! 🫶🏻

🔞 Below 🔞

You never thought you’d be in this position, between your professors legs, hands tight behind you with a belt, kissing the tip of his cock as your own spit runs down your chin. “Come on, I know you can take more, slut. After all, this is your grade we’re dealing with.” Seonghwa snarks, harshly tugging your hair as he forced your head down on him. Your eyes pricking with tears, you try and think back to where you went wrong. Was it when you interrupted his “meeting”, only to find his own hard cock thrusting into his hand, whispering curses as he watches precum leaking into his fingertips. Surely not, maybe he wanted to get caught, knowing you had scheduled tutoring with him that evening.

You realize too late that you’ve halted your actions, leaving your lips just above his twitching length. Your thoughts interrupted by being pulled up, and a hand tightly holding your cheeks up to face him. “Did I tell you to stop?” He questions, a sharpness to his tone. You stammer, “N-no Seon-“ before you finish, he tightens his hold on you, “Address me correctly,” he leans towards you, just inches away from your face, “Did I tell you to fucking stop?” Seonghwa questions you again, his eyes cutting through you. “No, Sir. Please, I’ll do better” you answer, not caring about how desperate you sound. A smirk stretches on his lips, a satisfied sigh leaving him as he watches your head bob up and down on him. “Who knew I had such a cock whore in my class?” Seonghwa says as he plays with your hair, laughing when he hears soft gagging leaving your throat.

“All this for a better grade on a paper you did quite well on, did my student expect this?” He confronts you, his light hair touches turning into fistful tugs. “I see your glances, I see how lustful you are. It’s quite amusing, but sexy, I’ll admit”. He quirks his head to the side, admiring the view below him, “You know how many women would love to be in your position? All of the students who would only dream for this to happen?” He pushes your head down a little harder this time, his hips thrusting up to where your nose hits the base of his cock.

“You really had to dumb yourself down just to get here, huh?” He prods, “You fell from a 109.7% to a 87.9%, I wonder why?” Seonghwa adds a fake concern to his voice while glancing at your past test papers. “Oh well, you’re getting what you wanted, dirty whore.” He spits, every harsh comment rushing to your core, you feel yourself getting more wet with every word. You moan into his cock as you flatten your tongue, making sure your stretch it as far and wide as you can, earning a small moan leaving his mouth.

You look up to him with glossy eyes, meeting his sharp ones. His glasses shine in the dim lighting, his slick black hair messy from running his fingers through it all day. He’s hot. He’s so, unbelievingly hot. “Like the view? I do too, darling. Not everyday I see a stupid bitch below me” he says as he pulls your head up, finally allowing you to take a deep breath. He pumps himself a few times, watching your eyes glance between his dick and his face. A groan leaves him, a smile dancing across his lips. “You gonna let me cum on your pretty face? Ruin that pretty makeup you probably spent hours on just for me?” He sighs when he feels your lips connect to his red tip. You nod eagerly, a rush racing up your spine, a heat pooling straight to your pussy. You swirl around the tip of him, lightly sucking when you hear him hiss above you.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum, open up pretty girl” he says as he reaches to pull your hair, pulling your gaze up off his dick. A soft “pop” leaves your mouth, as you unconsciously stick your tongue out, you watch him vigorously pump a few more times, before a string of “Fuck” leaves his mouth, and ropes of thick white cum drape over your nose, lips, and tongue. You smile as you hear him groan, he finishes draining himself of his seed all over your delicate features. He sighs, his hand releasing the tight grip he had on your hair to hold your cheek. He rubs his cum into your cheek, and gathers onto his thumb to bring to your lips. You obediently oblige, sucking and licking it clean. He huffs, “Good girl. What do you say?” You smile, kissing his thumb as it leaves your mouth. “Thank you Sir.” Needless to say your grade is now 110.0%, and you’re excited to see him next session.

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader

[meltingmidas]

Hey Bunny! I hope you’re doing well <3 so I got this thing with that one interview Hongjoong and Mingi did during his Halazia hair phase.. he looked so damn good with the styling and outfit and the ROSARY 😫 I was wondering if you would be open to the idea of Priest!Mingi and assistant reader, Mingi degrading the reader when she confesses that she thinks of a certain someone in an unholy way. MEAAAN dom Mingi, punishing her for the way she looks at him during service and being told of such sinful things by his assistant. anyway! Thank you so much <3

warnings - priest!mingi, sex in church, oral (m!recieving), throat fucking, degredation, mean dom! mingi, oh god i’m going to hell…

so idk if any of you have seen fleabag but hot priest!mingi is not something i knew i needed until now.

like i’m just thinking about the whole confession scene where fleabag ends up on her knees in front of him, and whilst the hot priest has it in him to walk away, i just know mingi does not.

because for all his talk of being a holy man, this man knows deep down that he is nothing but a slut. perhaps he thought becoming a priest would cure him of his sexual cravings, but instead the abstinence just made it all worse. especially when you started working in his place of worship. such a pretty thing willing to do anything he asks for? you’re sent by the devil as a temptation, he’s sure of it.

the way you look at him during service only proves his theory. how you sit there with your lips agape, practically begging for him to shove something between them, and the way you clench your thighs whenever he speaks to the congregation; it all works against him, reverting him back to the depraved man he was before becoming holy.

so when the two of you end up in the confession booth one evening, he can’t help but hold his breath in anticipation. he prays to his god that he has the courage to power through whatever it is you’re going to tell him. he prays for the ability to control himself, and promises to make up for his sins in any way he can. for a moment, he thinks it’s enough, but then you start talking, and just your voice is enough the make his dick jump in his pants. that’s when he knows for certain you were sent by the devil.

“forgive me father for i have sinned,” you mutter, breath bated as you wait for him to respond. this is a bad idea, you tell yourself. getting horny every time mingi steps into a room is bad enough, but telling him about it feels so much dirtier. perhaps you should keep it a secret; take it to the grave. beg for forgiveness at st. peters gate.

“tell me your sins,” mingi responds, voice breathy. it’s enough to send your mind stumbling into that dark place again. you thought church to be a holy place, so why did you feel more at kin with the devil right now.

“i’ve been having… thoughts, father,” you begin, “sinful thoughts. thoughts i shouldn’t be having outside of wedlock.”

mingi sucks in a breath, tipping his head back until it hats the back of his side of the confession booth. the thud makes you jump in place, but no more so than the noise that follows. a low grunt that seems to echo through the booth. images of what he could be doing in there fill your brain, and you desperately try to shun them away.

“and who are you having these thoughts about?” you’re sure that behind his gravelly voice you can hear the sound of a zipper. you cant help but let your mind spiral even further as images of the man, sweaty with cock in hand, fill your brain. you struggle to hold in the whimper that crawls up your throat.

“you, father,” you whisper, feeling nothing but ashamed of your confession, “i have these thoughts about you.”

silence follows, eerie and daunting. you cant blame him for that; it must be a shock to find out his assistant has been thinking about doing unholy things with him. you can’t help but feel immeasurable guilt for thinking about him in that way, and perhaps you were right when you pondered just taking it to the grave. his silence doesn’t help soothe your concerns in the slightest.

but then the curtain before you is ripped open, and mingi stands before you looking like sin itself. his black shirt is wide open to reveal the smooth skin of his chest. his zipper - you knew you’d heard it - is open, making space for his hand to palm at his boxer-clad crotch. you swallow down your drool as you look into his eyes; dark and menacing as he stares into your soul.

“get on the floor,” he spits. you quickly shuffle off of the bench, dropping to your knees before him. you watch as his thumb circles the wet patch on his boxers, a guttural moan exiting his plush lips as he digs his thumb in slightly. it’s a sight to behold, the way he bites into his bottom lip and scrunches his face up in pleasure. you can’t look away.

“fucking slut,” he pants to himself as he hurries to push his trousers and boxers down past his hips. his dick bounces as it’s freed from its material cage, and upon seeing it you moan. long and hard and thick and everything you’ve ever dreamed of it being. you want to crawl forwards to take a closer look, but before you can, mingi takes a step forward.

his cock it eye level now, and you can’t help but study it. the perfect pink mushroom tip that drips pearlescent liquid from its slit. the silken skin that covers the shaft, glistening with sweat as the dim lights from the confessional booth shine down upon it. the thick vein that runs from his sack to the top, throbbing as it begs for your touch.

“father,” you whisper, looking up at his face with wide eyes.

“what is it, slut?” he spits down at you, “tell me what you want.”

you glance to his dick before looking up at him again. he chuckles darkly, “where has that slutty little tongue gone?” he taunts, “you seemed to have no problem telling me about your sinful thoughts a minute ago, yet now you can’t even tell me what you want? perhaps you’re dumber than i gave you credit for.”

you open your mouth to say something, but clamp it shut when you can’t find the words. mingi just tuts at you from where he stands, waiting impatiently for you to say something.

“please, father,” you feel your face heat up at you stumble over your words, “please may i touch you?”

he scoffs.

“touch me?” a hand grabs your chin, fingers digging into your cheeks in a way that makes your lips pucker. there’s bound to be red crescents on your face, left by his fingernails that show no mercy, digging in to the point where it makes you wince, “you think i’d let a whore like you touch me?”

you whine.

“pathetic,” he grunts as he lets you go. you can’t find the courage to move your hands to massage at your aching jaw. you let it hurt as he presses his fingers to your lips, forcing themselves into your mouth to pull down your bottom jaw. when it’s completely slack, he let’s go and steps closer yet again, “you’re going to pay for what you’ve done, little girl. just sit there and take it, and maybe if you please me, we can talk about your forgiveness.”

he waits to see if you’ll close your mouth, but you don’t. you want this.

and with that, he presses and hand to the back of your head and forces his dick into your mouth, pushing it forward until it hits a barrier at the back of your throat. you choke, but he doesn’t pull back. he just lets it sit there, effectively gagging you until there are tears pooling up in the corners of your eyes and drool threatening to cascade down your chin.

his face is stony as he stares you down, watching you struggle for air so prettily. he pulls back briefly, taking a little mercy on you before pushing back in just as hard as the first time. you barely have time to gasp for air before it’s ripped away from you once again.

he pushes in further, feeling your tight throat clench around his cock and he almost cums on the spot. so warm and wet and tight around him that he can’t help but cry out in pleasure as he pulls back once more.

you’re grateful as he lets you take in a few breaths before delving in once again, this time thrusting messily back and forth. you gag every time he hits your uvular, but it doesn’t seem to deter him. it only eggs him on, driving him to go harder and faster with every single thrust.

he’s close, he realises as he feels you try to swallow around him. your face is already a mess with spit and tears, but he can’t help but feel like you’ll look even prettier with his cum painting your face too.

he pulls out completely, thrusting into his fist a couple of times. the dam breaks quicker than he expected, and the white spurts of liquid that erupt from his tip fall perfectly on your face. you close your eyes just in time for some to land on your eyebrow, dripping down to mix with the tears that have yet to stop flowing.

“pretty little slut,” he hums once he’s finished cumming, and his cock begins to soften in his grasp. he chuckles, “go clean your face up, okay? you have five minutes before i come looking; i want a taste of that slutty little hole next.”