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zetaares · 9 months
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i can imagine OC teasing JK by giving him kisses all over this face except his lips 🤭
Ahhhhh
"Sugar" Jungkook was getting annoyed "If you're gonna do this, you might as well plant one on my lips too." He let out a frustrated groan, but you shake your head, planting kisses all over his cheek and neck, anywhere but his lips.
"It's fun," you remark playfully before landing another kiss near his eye.
"Fuck" Jungkook cursed, gripping your waist and laying you flat on his bed, howering over u "You bad bad girl" he smirked, leaning down to give your lips a little kiss.
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zetaares · 10 months
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zetaares · 10 months
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*sighs* okay, time to change my theme for the 8174th time
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zetaares · 11 months
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KISS U RIGHT NOW (L.MK)
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pairing. mark lee x fem!reader genre. some fluff, smut word count. 6.9k contents. kissing, breast play, fingering (receiving), oral (giving), unprotected sex
summary. in which mark just really wants to kiss you. alternative summary. five times mark wanted to kiss you and one time he actually does.
notes. happy (belated) birthday @najaemarkl !! this fic is based off the song ‘kiss u right now’ by duckwrth 🥰
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saturday.
Mark thinks he might be going insane.
Mark is standing in the middle of this party on a Saturday night, red Solo cup in his hand, surrounded by dancing bodies, among which there are undoubtedly several girls who would go for him.
Mark is standing in the middle of this party, and all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss you, his best friend. 
monday.
It started as an inkling these past couple of weeks, but it got a little stronger on Monday, a persistent nagging feeling as he watched you in the back of your shared Linguistics class. You’d knocked your dangly earring out in your hurry to raise your hand and answer a question your professor had asked, and were currently preoccupied with lightly dragging the point of the earring hook against your lobe in an attempt to find the piercing hole.
There’s something about the soft tilt of your head, the focused look on your face as you devote your attention to putting your earring back in, and the way the tip of your tongue peeks out in concentration that has Mark seeing you in a light getting further and further from platonic by the day. 
He wants to feel your tongue against his lips, wants to caress that space of your neck you’re thoughtlessly exposing to him with his hand, feel the soft skin under his fingertips, tilt your chin towards him and lean forward to connect your lips. You’re nibbling at your bottom lip now as you write something down in your notes, and Mark bets you wore that lip balm he’s always loved the smell of, unbeknownst to you due to his never mentioning it, and he wishes he could just lean over and see how it tastes—
“Mark!” You whisper, placing your hand on his thigh just a centimeter above his knee, and Mark jolts out of his stupor, meeting your gaze with a sheepish tint to his cheeks and ears that he prays you don’t notice or ignore. “I asked if you have correction tape? I made a mistake.” You frown and Mark almost spirals all over again at the sight of your bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he just wants to kiss over and over until it goes away in favor of a smile. 
“Uh, yeah—I definitely do,” He stumbles over his words as he roots through his pencil case and finds it, passing it to you. Your hands touch, fingers brushing the other’s palm, as you take it from him with a grateful smile, and Mark knows you definitely don’t think much of it, but he’s thinking about how soft your hand is, how warm, how he wishes he could just reach over and hold it for no reason other than the fact that he wants to.
Mark’s not sure if this wave of wanting to kiss you is going away anytime soon, but he hopes it does—for his sake.
tuesday.
Mark’s inkling, his persistent nagging feeling, turns into a whisper on Tuesday, accompanied with a phantom tugging sensation that he fears might literally pull him towards you for more than comfort when he comes over to your dorm, as requested, to see a very sad and teary-eyed you sitting on your rug dejectedly. He almost drops the takeout bag he carefully carried from your favorite Chinese food restaurant to your dorm, and he cannot afford such a financial loss, so he clutches onto it protectively.
The glossy look in your eyes, lashes, now wet with tears, clumping together, your pouty bottom lip—that damn lip—trembling slightly with the weight of unshed tears, and the occasional sniffles you let out almost make Mark drop the damn takeout bag, the male floored by how pretty someone can look when they cry. He approaches you carefully, settling down on the rug beside you and folding his limbs in somewhat clumsily. When you look over at his struggle, a small chuckle escapes you, and Mark’s heart clenches at the sound, eyes sweeping over your frame to assess any physical injuries you might have. Finding none, Mark sighs in relief and slumps back, his head resting against the side of your covered mattress.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mark asks softly. You hadn’t specified what was wrong in your distress signal text; you only sent “SOS,” your and Mark’s Best Friend Code for “come over and bring comfort food,” and Mark readily complied as soon as he caught sight of the notification banner; he’s not sure if this is a symptom of being hopelessly whipped for you or just a testament to the strength of your friendship.
He’s pretty sure it’s the former, as another glance at your tear-streaked cheeks sends his poor heart lurching again, but Mark really hopes for his sake that it’s the latter.
“No,” You mumble, sniffling twice before meeting his gaze with wide, shining eyes that, to Mark, are just screaming for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. “Just need you here.”
“I’m here,” Mark promises, and sets about opening the takeout containers and laying everything out as nicely as he can, even using some textbooks from his backpack and your desk as a makeshift table. “I got your favorite.” He says hopefully, spearing a piece of chicken and bringing it to your lips expectantly. You laugh softly, the sound fond, your cheeks lifting into a smile as you lean forward, accept the forkful, and chew, relief taking over your body as Mark watches you visibly relax.
You slump against Mark’s arm, resting your head against his shoulder, and Mark prays you can’t hear the pounding of his heartbeat which sounds out loud and clear in his own ears. Mark drapes an arm around your shoulders and tries not to stiffen when you turn yourself inwards, tucking yourself into his side and humming softly, tries not to let his desires take over and give in to the tugging feeling that urges him to nudge your head up with his own and slot your lips together.
Mark really isn’t sure if he can hold out much longer.
wednesday.
Wednesday almost has Mark caving when you two lie on his bed, watching movies on his laptop. You’re so close, the side of your thigh pressed up against his, hips brushing, shoulders touching, and Mark knows it’d be so easy to turn and press his lips to yours. 
To make matters worse, Mark’s eyes keep trailing down to your chest, which moves every time you laugh, and by the time you’re engrossed in the film, Mark’s lost interest entirely, instead opting to study your features and reactions. Try as he might, Mark’s eyes continue to wander down to your breasts, shamefully gazing as if looking hard enough would grant him the feeling of what it’d be like to touch you.
Mark’s finally coming to accept that he wants to do more than kiss you; far more, actually. He wants to touch you, hold you, be intimately familiar with the taste and feel of you—
More than anything, though, Mark wants to love you. If you’d let him. He wants to make you smile, laugh, understand the meaning of love songs—he wants to spin you around in the rain and leave kiss after kiss against your lips and trailing down your neck to your collarbones. He wants to buy you thoughtful gifts and watch your eyes light up; he wants to be the one to wipe your tears and kiss everything all better.
He wants, firstly, however, to know if you even want that from him. He hopes you do. Overwhelmed by his thoughts and unshakable desires, Mark reaches up and fitfully runs his fingers through his hair, no doubt messing it up. He mumbles a quick apology when his sudden movement causes you to jolt in surprise, looking over at him. To his confusion, you don’t look away yet, observing him for another moment before leaning towards him.
Is this it? Is this the moment Mark’s been dreaming about for ages? He can barely contain his excitement, reflexively nibbling his bottom lip out of nervous habit, and he tries to remember to breathe, to relax, there’s no good in kissing someone who’s stiff as a board—
“You messed your hair up,” You murmur distractedly, reaching up and ruffling his hair, adjusting it until he looks presentable. “All better,” You say sweetly with a soft smile, and Mark wants nothing more than to cup your face and kiss you over and over and over until your smile is so wide he can’t kiss you anymore.
Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him? Mark hopes you don’t, because that would be uncharacteristically cruel of you.
“Thanks,” He forces out a small chuckle, and your brows furrow instantly, of course they do, you know each other like the back of your hand.
“You okay?” You ask curiously, a tinge of worry in your voice, and Mark nods reassuringly. “You sure? You can talk to me about anything, you know.”
As Mark successfully de-escalates the situation and redirects your attention to the movie, he can’t help but think that there are, unfortunately, some things he might be better off keeping to himself.
thursday.
By Thursday, Mark doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his feelings in. He’s driving down the road, endlessly pursuing the night if it means staying by your side, and you’re sitting right next to him, content as can be.
“Were we supposed to be turning soon?” Mark asks, and you look over at him, shrugging.
“I dunno.” 
“You’re riding shotgun,” Mark chuckles, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel and looking over at you. “You’re in charge of directions.”
“Nuh-uh,” You counter, furrowing your brows—very cutely, Mark thinks to himself—and turning slightly to face him better. “I’m a passenger princess.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mark snickers, and you nod firmly, settling back into your seat.
“Yep,” You reply, popping your lips on the “p.” “I’m in charge of looking pretty and maintaining the good vibes.”
“Well, in that case, you’re doing an excellent job,” Mark replies with a laugh, barely registering his words until they’ve settled in the now thick air between you two.
“…Did you just call me pretty, Mark?” You tease, reaching over and tugging at his pinking ear.
“Don’t distract the driver!”
“Answer my question!”
“Maybe I did.” He admits, and you smile widely, flipping down the mirror and checking your reflection. Mark steals a glance while you do, studying the slope of your nose, the curl of your lashes, and the faint pucker of your lips as you reapply your lip balm, the faint but pleasant scent of cherry Chapstick wafting past Mark’s nose.
He’s never been one for cherries, but he can honestly say he’s never wanted to taste them so badly in his life.
“Why, thank you, Mark.” You don’t yet look at him, fixing your hair in the mirror before flipping it back up, and Mark’s eyes rove over your face with an almost hunger, drinking in your beauty as you sit beside him, entirely unaware. When you turn to look at him, he shifts his gaze back to the road as if he’d never been looking, and you hum thoughtfully, picking up your phone and connecting it to the Bluetooth speakers in his car. “Any requests?”
“Nah, play what you want,” Mark offers. “I trust your taste in music.”
“Mark, you’re just killing it with the compliments tonight.” You say gleefully, stretching your legs out before you cross one leg over the other. Mark can see the faint line of muscle in the side of your thigh, and he wants so desperately to run his fingers along it, press his lips to the indentation, leave kisses lower and lower and back up until his mouth grazes your inner thighs— “Who are you practicing on me for?”
“I’d never use you as practice,” Mark replies indignantly, offended that you’d even suggest such a thing. 
“Sorry,” You stress the word with a playful lilt as you raise your hands defensively. “Was just asking.” The car falls into a comfortable silence between you two as the song you picked plays in the car speakers. ‘Crush’ by DUCKWRTH sounds throughout the car, and Mark can barely hold back his chuckle at just how apt your song choice is. 
He’s crushing, and he’s crushing bad. 
He can’t help but steal glances at your bare legs as he drives, eyes gravitating towards that damn muscle, and he’s moving before he knows it, reaching over to you with his closest hand. He wants to stop, pretend it never happened, but he’s more than halfway to you and to stop now would mean an awkward retreat of his hand back to his lap, and he doesn’t think his pride could handle that.
He swallows hard and pushes past his worries—literally—and pats your knee comfortingly, his hand almost trembling under the feeling of your warm, soft skin under his palm.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Mark echoes his sentiment from earlier. “Use you as, like, flirting target practice or something.” He hopes he sounds sincere because he means every word. 
You have no idea that you’re the main event to Mark. 
You smile at him, eyes bright, and place one hand on top of his, patting it gently and leaving it there. Mark’s over the moon, floating on cloud nine, and it’s a miracle he can stay focused on the road and not swerve off from how frazzled his thoughts have become. 
“Passenger princess?” He calls to you, and you hum in acknowledgement, half-turning to look at him. “Can you go above and beyond your job description and look up the directions, please?” 
“Mm,” You hum thoughtfully, tapping your chin with your index finger of the hand holding your phone. “I guess I can do that.” You answer finally, shooting him a teasing grin before unlocking your phone and devoting your attention to it.
To be honest, Mark could drive for hours aimlessly if it meant getting to keep his hand on your leg and you by his side.
friday.
By the time you two get your food, eat it in Mark’s car, and drive somewhere to relax, it’s well past midnight and officially Friday, the night enveloping you two in its cool embrace. As soon as he puts the car in park, you’re leaping out of the passenger side door and making your way to the front of the vehicle.
Mark can’t help but chuckle as he gets out of the car and heads over to where you’re standing at the precipice of the overlook, all the city lights twinkling in the night.
“It’s so pretty,” You sigh dreamily, the lights reflecting in your eyes, and Mark can’t help but agree, his gaze only on you. You’re practically bouncing on your heels with excitement, bounding back over to his car and carefully sitting on the hood, crossing your legs at the ankles.
“It really is,” Mark echoes, but he’s still watching you, mentally hyping himself up for his next move. Swallowing thickly, he throws caution to the wind and walks over to where you sit, standing so your knees push against his hips. 
Mark’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t for you to uncross your ankles and hook them behind his legs to pull him closer to you. You release him almost immediately, the moment fleeting, but the mischievous grin on your face sends Mark’s heart lurching as he wants nothing more than to cup your face and press his lips to yours. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask curiously, and Mark blinks out of his daze.
“Nothing?” He winces inwardly at how defensive he sounds, and by the unconvinced look on your face, you’ve picked up on it too.
“You’re biting your lip like you do when you get all…in your head.” You point out, tapping his chin lightly, and he swallows before releasing his poor bottom lip. “Let me in there, Mark.” You say softly, reaching up to trace light circles on his forehead. “What are you thinking?”
I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so bad that it hurts, Mark groans internally, but says nothing yet. In an act of boldness he’ll surely regret later, he loops his fingers around your wrist and brings your hand down to your lap, slowly slipping his digits between yours. You smile down at your linked hands fondly, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and Mark thinks for one hopeful moment that you want him too. 
Mark looks up from your hands, pushing away the thoughts of how nicely they fit together, to see that you two are much closer than he thought; your eyelashes are close enough to count, and he can smell that fucking lip balm that drives him insane. A shaky breath leaves him before he can stop it, a breath of anticipation, of hope, of—
“Mark!” You laugh incredulously, and he jolts, sheepishly refocusing his gaze on you. “You disappeared again.” You murmur fondly, releasing his hand and trailing your fingers up his arm to tickle the back of his neck lightly. 
“Sorry,” Mark mumbles, nerves sitting tight in his throat, a lump he can’t seem to swallow, and you shake your head dismissively, smiling up at him.
“Will you take me with you next time?” You joke softly, and he nods before he knows he’s doing it, his body so tuned into you that he’d give you anything you want without a second thought. “Good.” You sigh, content, and Mark makes another bold move, acting on his desires for the second time tonight—third if you count his touching your leg in the car—and stepping closer until his knees hit the bumper, placing his hands on the car on either side of your body to tentatively trap you in. 
Your bright eyes look up at him curiously and, if he’s allowing himself to indulge in his thoughts, challengingly, as if daring him to take the step he so desperately wants to. His chest swells with anticipation, his eyes slowly dropping down to your lips, and he thinks for a moment about leaning in and biting the bullet. 
But flashes of your panicked, nervous, even disgusted possible reaction to him have Mark popping the balloon of hope suddenly, an awkward laugh forcing itself out instead as he leans back from you slightly, freeing you from his embrace.
“You’re welcome anywhere I go,” Mark assures you. 
Your responding smile almost soothes the ghostly chill of rejection Mark imagined.
Almost.
saturday. (again.)
A cracking noise startles Mark out of his thoughts, with him quickly coming to realize that his grip on his cup has tightened considerably, denting the cup. He’s about to go and toss the cup, having lost his taste for the drink inside, when he hears his name being called from behind him.
“Hey, you.” Your voice cuts through the sounds of the party with ease, and Mark turns his head as your arms wrap around him in a tight backhug. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothin’, really.” Mark answers, shrugging casually.
“I ask because you love this song, and yet you were just standing in the middle of the floor like a statue.” You snicker, and he balks, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 
“Oh, nothing, for real; just thinking about school.”
“Thinking about school on a Saturday night? Don’t we come here to do the exact opposite of that?” You tease, and he chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Come with me to the bathroom? I need you to stand guard.” You grin widely in an attempt to convince him, and Mark fights back the urge to chuckle. 
You have no idea that he’d do damn near anything for you.
“C’mon.” He murmurs, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow just a step behind him, Mark’s hand ghosting along the small of your back as he guides you through the many bodies. For a brief second, Mark loses you, the feel of your back slipping away startling him into turning around to see you a couple of feet back stuck behind a kissing couple. 
He moves back towards you, hand returning to your back as you graciously lean into him, and continues making his way through the crowd, keeping you closer to him than before. Your hand grips the hem of his shirt—Mark guesses it’s so you two don’t get separated again—and Mark’s hand accidentally dips under the hem of your shirt, fingertips briefly grazing the bare skin of your waist. His mind reeling, Mark moves his fingers and, if you notice, you say nothing, readily following him upstairs to the bathroom.
When you two reach the door, the last thing Mark expects is for you to pull him into the bathroom with you, the sound of the door clicking shut finally letting the situation sink in. 
“Are you sure you want me in here—”
“I’m not actually using the bathroom, Mark.” You laugh, leaning up against the sink and inspecting your reflection. Mark watches as you pull your lip balm from your pocket and apply it to your lips, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re doing this on purpose. “I missed you, y’know.” You hum thoughtfully, and Mark makes a surprised sort of sound.
“Yeah?” He asks, trying and failing to hide his incredulity. 
“Yep,” You confirm. You turn to face him with a (very cute) frown. “Did you not miss me?”
“No—I mean yes, of course I did—”
“Then why wouldn’t I miss you?” You counter, and he presses a hand over his face, laughing despite his building nerves.
“You just love messing with me, don’t you?” He chuckles, and you shrug, lips curling into a beguiling smile.
“I like pulling you out of your head, Mark.” You say. “I like knowing what you’re thinking.”
Mark thinks that it’s basically now or never; when else is he going to get the opportunity to tell you how he feels?
“You know, lately, I’ve been thinking about—” Mark starts off boldly, but he cuts himself off at the last minute, still unsure if he wants to take that forward step and possibly ruin your relationship.
“Mark, you’re always so in your head.” You chuckle fondly, leaning in towards him. “Thinking about what?”
“Thinking about…kissing you.” Mark finishes slowly, and the look in his eyes when he looks up from his shoes to meet your gaze is a look you’ve never seen from him before. He steps towards you, your feet inch back reflexively, and this continues as he slowly backs you up against the countertop, his hands coming to rest by your hips on the sink, carefully closing you in.
“Oh, yeah?” You hum, blinking slowly at him, and your lips curl into a small grin.
“Yeah.” Mark’s serious—more serious than you’ve seen him in a while—and the intensity in his gaze has arousal stirring in your lower abdomen as you watch him intently.
“And how long have you been thinking about this?” You ask softly, voice low and curious. Mark chuckles finally, looking away from you for a moment before answering you.
“A while.”
“How long is a while?” You press.
“Couple weeks.” He answers, knowing he’s severely lowballing it, and you roll your eyes, nudging his thigh with your knee.
“And you never thought to tell me this because…?” You question, and he shrugs dismissively.
“Didn’t think you were interested.” He replies, and you nod thoughtfully.
“Ah.” You say. “That’s stupid.” 
Mark lets out a small chuckle as he leans even closer to you, his face closer to yours than it’s ever been. “Don’t make me laugh right now.”
“Why not?” You tease, gently poking his stomach and trying to mask your surprise when you feel firm muscle as opposed to the squishiness you expected. “You can kiss me, you know.”
“Stop talking,” Mark groans, his brows furrowing, and you grin at him mischievously.
“Or what?” You’re lifting up onto your tiptoes, leaning in closer to him and stopping just before your lips connect. “What if I don’t?”
“I’ll make you.” His words thrill your mind and the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips thrills your body, your blood starting to buzz in anticipation.
“Mm, is that a threat or a promise?” You know Mark well enough to know he needs to be goaded into boldness, and you’re just the right person for the job.
“Whichever you want.” His voice is throatier, huskier, and almost unbearably attractive.
“I want you to shut up and kiss me already.” You lightly bump the tip of your nose against his, a wide, excited smile growing on your lips.
“I can do that.” He breathes, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you in and finally connects your lips. The kiss isn’t an explosive fire right away, but a slow, warm one that builds steadily to an inferno as you two get used to the feeling and taste of each other. 
Mark’s mind is reeling, finally getting to taste your lip balm, which is almost as delicious as the unique taste that’s just you, and he thinks for a moment that he could probably stay there forever with you.
Before you can even process it, Mark’s kissing has morphed from cautious and hesitant to heated and passionate, and his hips press against you, pushing you against the countertop of the sink more insistently. His fingers on the back of your neck slip into the hair on your nape, tugging not-so-gently at the locks. When you softly gasp in surprise, he pulls back as if you’d shocked him, eyes wide and apologetic.
“Is this okay?” He asks worriedly, and you scoff, leaning into his embrace.
“Yes, Mark. Didn’t I say something along the lines of ‘less talking, more kissing?’” You huff, and he grins, pulling you back against him to slot your lips together once more. “You don’t have to be gentle, Mark—I can take it.”
“God, you’re gonna drive me insane.” He groans under his breath, sounding strained as he obliges and presses you against the countertop roughly, hands flying to your hips to lift you, guiding you on top of the sink. His lips detach from yours and start descending down your neck, sucking and licking, his fingers digging into your hips as he moans against your skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He grunts, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your sweet scent as he presses his lips to your skin over and over. 
“That feels so good, Mark,” You hum, content with the feeling of Mark’s mouth working away at your neck.
“Can I—?” He starts, but you cut him off.
“You don’t need to ask about everything, Mark,” You chuckle fondly, pulling your neck away from his lips in favor of running your fingers through his hair and tugging gently. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” 
“Promise?” Mark mumbles worriedly.
You nod. “When have I ever missed out on an opportunity to complain about something?” You say playfully, and Mark relaxes visibly as he laughs and nods in agreement.
“Good point.” He murmurs, and you smile sweetly as you pull him in for another kiss. “In that case,” Mark says in a low tone, lips pressed to yours, “I’m gonna indulge for a bit.”
Before you can ask what he means by that, he’s yanking your shirt up and over your head and discarding it thoughtlessly on the floor, his hands finding your waist and slowly gliding up to your chest, where he cups your breasts and squeezes, kneading them and tugging gently at your nipples through your bra.
Without his having to ask, you reach back and unclip your bra, shrugging the straps off and letting the garment fall off of you. It lands between you and Mark on the floor and Mark looks down at it, up at you, down at your bare breasts with wide eyes, then back up at you in awe.
“Damn, you’re incredible,” He groans, his hands eagerly massaging and caressing your breasts as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest towards him. His lips attach to your neck, kissing and nipping his way down to your chest, where he takes a nipple into his mouth. You moan lowly and tip your head back, hissing when his teeth catch your sensitive bud, tugging and releasing before swirling the tip of his tongue around it and sucking. He cups both of your breasts in his hands, pressing them together, before rolling his tongue over your nipples, moving from one to the other eagerly and punctuating his surprisingly skillful swirls with gentle nips. 
“Feels good, Mark,” You sigh dazedly, a lazy but content smile curling your lips, and he groans, the sound low in his throat, in response, sucking at your nipples with more fervor. He bathes your chest in wet kisses, groaning louder when you whine plaintively. 
His hand leaves your breast to snake between your bodies and unbutton your jeans, pushing into your underwear and stroking along your folds, parting them until he reaches the fleshy pearl of your clit. Your hips jolt at the touch, Mark releasing your nipple from the warmth of his mouth and moving up to kiss you as you rock down on his fingers.
His fingers, thicker than you expected, push past your entrance, two digits curling inside of you and eliciting a pleased hum from you. He slowly fucks his fingers into you, your walls slick and tight around them, and he can’t help but think about how tight you’re going to feel when he’s finally inside of you.
“Right there—” You whimper when he hits a spot that has your toes curling, and he chuckles, diligently thrusting his fingers into you repeatedly as your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and making him hiss. “Sorry,” You pant and he kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly, an unspoken acceptance of your apology. You turn his face to yours and kiss him full on, Mark moaning against your lips as your core flexes around him. 
You’re practically riding his fingers at this point, breathy whimpers escaping you as he strokes along your inner walls, your orgasm rapidly approaching. 
“Mark, ‘m gonna—” You moan, and he nods, flicking his tongue into your mouth and kissing you through your climax, the liplock turning sloppy and clumsy as your lips part to moan his name and a string of swears. 
As soon as the aftershock trembles disappear, you’re pushing him back gently, creating enough space between you two for you to slip off the sink and sink to your knees.
Mark thinks he could faint at the sight of you looking up at him, opening his pants with one hand. His cock aches at the prospect of your mouth wrapped around it, and he tilts your chin up to look at you better.
“You don’t have to, you know.” Mark assures you, and you roll your eyes.
“I know that, Mark.” Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and he hisses. “I want to.” Your mouth is around the head of his cock without a moment to prepare himself, and Mark swears—loudly—his head tipping back and thumping against the wall behind him. Mark whimpers, both in pain and from pleasure, and your giggle tickles his ears as you pull off of him and pump his length up and down, positioning yourself above his length to drip a trail of spit down onto his tip, working your fist over it to lubricate your movements. 
Mark blinks down at you in awe, shuddering when you take his length as far into your mouth as it’ll go, the tip of your nose pressed against his stomach as you swallow around him.
He whimpers when you start bobbing your head slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock with every movement. His breaths are ragged, chest heaving, blunt nails scratching uselessly at the wall behind him, and he curses when his hips buck up of their own accord, sending his length further into your mouth. There’s a moment of bliss when he’s smoothly sliding into your mouth only to be topped by a second of ecstasy when he hits the back of your throat, which flexes around him and drags out a groan of delight from deep in his chest.
“Sorry—” Mark whispers, poorly restraining the urge to thrust into your mouth. You pull off slowly, swiping your tongue over your lips to break the string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his tip, and when you speak, your voice has a slight rasp to it that has Mark’s eyes practically rolling back into his head.
“Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Mark?” You ask with a beguiling smile, your hand slowly stroking his length, and it’s all he can do to stop his knees from buckling right now. 
“I’m not gonna last if I do,” He warns you in a choked voice, and you frown.
“But I want you to finish inside of me.” You huff petulantly, and he groans, gripping your wrist to stop your movements.
“You can’t say that or I’ll cum right now.” He complains, and you roll your eyes. 
“Then I’ll finish that later.” You decide, and Mark successfully contains his surprise at the prospect of doing this again with you. You stand back up and Mark’s hands move to your hips, the gesture almost second nature, before he’s gently pushing you back so you’re pressed up against the sink countertop. He nudges himself between your legs and brings the thick head of his cock to your entrance, gliding it up and down through your slick folds to collect your arousal. “Mark, we don’t exactly have the luxury of time.” You chuckle, and he narrows his eyes at you.
“Well, sorry for wanting to take my time with you.” He mumbles, and a fondness spreads through your body, your lips curling up into a sweet smile. He pushes into you slowly, and you hiss at the stretch, your best friend being more well-endowed than you expected. “Told you I should slow down.” Mark wants to gloat, but his heart seizes with concern at the look of discomfort on your face.
“I’m fine,” You answer stubbornly. “Just—give me a minute.” Mark nods and rubs comforting circles into your hips, bringing his lips to your neck to press sweet kisses from your ear to your shoulder and back up again. 
“Tell me what you want me to do.” Mark urges against your skin, brushing his parted lips along the spot behind your ear, and you sigh blissfully.
“You can move,” You murmur, and he thanks the powers that be as he pushes forward into you, bottoming out and feeling the tight wet warmth of your walls wrapped around him. Both of you let out a moan, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder, and he pulls out before starting to thrust into you, deep strokes reaching every spot inside of you that makes your mind go blank. “Shit, Mark,” You cry out as he fucks into you with all the desperation and desire he’s been restraining for the past weeks.
“You like that?” He chuckles breathlessly, pulling back slightly to reach between you two and massage your clit, and you nod with a whimper, rolling your hips against his. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
“Me too,” You breathe, and he’s so surprised he almost fucks up his rhythm, sending you shifting back on the sink with a particularly powerful thrust. “Fuck—”
“Sorry, I’m—I can’t,” He moans, pressing his fingers against your clit harder and angling his hips so he can drive his cock into the spot that makes you roll your eyes into the back of your head.
“Mark, please, I’m gonna—” You gasp, and he nods, kissing you again to silence your moans as you both climax, your walls tightening around his length almost painfully as he pumps spurt after spurt of cum into you. He presses kiss after kiss to your lips, the corners of your mouth, your cheeks—anywhere he can reasonably reach.
He pulls out of you carefully, his chest heaving as he catches his breath and tucks himself back into his clothing. The air is thick and silent as Mark starts to spiral; are you coming to your senses? Experiencing some sort of post-nut clarity? Are you about to tell him you two can never be together and that he’s ruined everything—
“Wanna get food and watch a movie at my place?” You ask, turning around to face him. You’ve adjusted your top back into place and are in the process of zipping and buttoning your jeans.
“Y-Yeah.” Mark mumbles, half-dazed, half-relieved.
“Great! C’mon.” You say with a smile, washing your hands and leaning against the door as he does the same. When he’s finished, you take his hand and open the bathroom door, ignoring the stares you two garner as you leave. As you lead Mark through the party, he can’t help but hope things stay this comfortable even in the morning. 
sunday.
When Mark wakes up on Sunday, his mouth is drier than he ever remembers it being, his head feels like someone’s drumming on his temples, and he can barely get his wits about him quickly enough to take in his surroundings. All Mark knows right now is that there’s sunlight streaming in from the window beside the bed he’s lying in, he is not in his bed, and the person lying beside him is still asleep—
Hold on.
Mark turns his head carefully, lifting off of the pillow to look beside him so he doesn’t make any noise at all, and—it’s you.
At the sight of your sleeping frame, your back to him, Mark feels himself go limp with relief—well—almost everything on him goes limp, but one thing remains very, very…stiff.
Mark is now trying to piece together everything that happened last night, and the realization of what exactly went down hits him like a freight train, damn near knocking the wind out of his lungs in an involuntarily sucked-in breath.
Flashes of the night before start to run through his mind; his hands on your cheeks, your waist, your breasts, grabbing at your hips, his lips following the trail blazed by his lustful fingertips, the way your mouth felt wrapped around him—his cock—nestled deep in your folds—how tight you were, the pretty sounds you made—
Mark remembers damn near everything, but he can’t remember how it ended. Did you hate him for taking that forward step? Did he fuck up the relationship between you two? Did his lust get the best of him and potentially cost him his best friend?
“You really are so in your head, Mark.” Your sleepy voice remarks softly, fondness and amusement audible even past your just-woken croakiness, and hope fills Mark’s chest as he turns his head towards you. You’re now facing him—Mark wonders when you did that without him hearing, but figures he was so distracted by his thoughts that he must not have noticed—and smiling sweetly, tired eyes twinkling nevertheless, and Mark thinks it’s insane that you’re every bit as lovely when you’ve just woken up as you always are—maybe even more so. “Good morning,” You greet with a small chuckle.
“Morning,” Mark mumbles, his thoughts still racing. “Did—last night, did I—was that a bad idea—?”
“I’m happy,” You cut him off pointedly with a wider smile than before as you stretch your limbs, a small groan escaping you as you relax again. You look over at Mark and raise your eyebrows in question. “Are you happy?”
“I’m fuckin’ thrilled.” Mark rushes to get the words out, feeling like he can’t reassure you quickly enough, and your eyes scan his face before you laugh, and the sound is so free, so void of worry, stress, concern—
You’re not stressed in the slightest, so maybe Mark doesn’t have anything to worry about.
“I like you here with me like this,” You muse lightly, looking over at Mark with warm eyes. He’s about to speak, but you continue, “in my bed.”
“Yeah?” Mark can barely get the word out alongside his exhale of immense relief, but you hear it, as you always do.
“Mm, yeah,” You hum, and he nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know what else?”
“What else?” Mark’s relaxed considerably, smile morphing to a small smirk as he parrots your cadence back at you playfully. You don’t say anything for a moment, and he looks over at you curiously to see that you’ve propped your head up on your hand, elbow resting on the mattress. There’s a playful glint in your eyes, mischievous, even, and Mark’s a little bit lost, but your happiness is infectious.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
It’s Sunday morning—or afternoon…Mark hasn’t figured that part out—and Mark feels like something’s clicked into place, and, when he looks at you, he knows you feel the same way.
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zetaares · 1 year
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two point five. (m) jjk.
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pairing. handyman!jungkook x reader genre. smut word count. 21.3k warnings. jungkook is very charming and very sweet, oral sex, face riding, slight size kink, unprotected sex, lotsa messy kisses, multiple orgasms summary. who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. right? note. this story was born from an ask game (a long time ago im so sorry) so thank you to the angel that gave me the fic title and all you cuties for helping me flesh out our handyman through asks hehe i hope you like the introduction to him™ because i’m sure there will be more of him soon hehe. also thank you to my angel bby loml @kithtaehyung​ for making the most beautiful banner ever ily!!<3
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The sound of your power drill fills up the space of your apartment, the whirring coming to a quick stop only for the laughter of your friend to follow. There’s a brief moment where you forget she’s not in the room with you, actually watching you attempt to drill holes into your new apartment instead of in her home in a completely different state. The small ache in your chest is still felt when you remember this, not yet accustomed to being so far from home, but you push it away as you stare down at your device and see her face on the screen propped up a few inches away from you. 
“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” she laughs, and although you agree you simply wave her off with a smile. 
“I hung up that tiny mirror the other day—oh, and that shelf!” You point to the side, staring at the shelf you had placed near the kitchen. Sure it was a little crooked, and you’re not exactly sure how much weight you could get away with placing on it, but it was only meant for cute decorations so really, you didn’t do a bad job. 
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zetaares · 1 year
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can you keep it down?
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pairing; neighbor!mark x (f) reader
genre/warnings; smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)
summary; The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.
taglist; @tulipatethic @blondiedae @mrkleelvr @chitaphrrrr @wannabeursugarbaby @baehaechannie @jjhmk @cchewhaz @lauraneuuh @wonderlandless @goingbananasoverpotassium @tennieboiii @magik-yoongs @legbouk @hesbambi @jensdior @kundann @darthlunaa @jwooskim @vantxx95 @nominsgirl @jejenono-ren @abcdefghijkleemark @milfluver31 @tatakaee @bebskyy @strawbrry-jaem @70schic @clemlovesu @dilfjohhny @cosmic-w0lf @markleeslover @mingilingy @jazzisasimpforanything @moon-child-elli @doyoungheartsme @downtonbabyah @itsonlyhwa @soobsfairy444 @jypeee @sup-dallyboy @allforhyuck @songgmingii @multislut @wanlore (if ur url is in bold I couldn’t tag u, sorry!)
extra; 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
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The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door.
It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed.
Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s.
He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you.
“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”
For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses.
When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”
He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole.
But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father.
That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor.
Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you snapped out of it and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list.
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The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe.
Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast.
You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?”
Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.”
With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since.
“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?”
Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”
He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.
Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.”
Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys.
That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that burned with embarrassment when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor.
Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly.
He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”
That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”
Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”
“Must be fun.”
“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”
You chuckled. “Amen to that.”
It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests.
Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence.
Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”
“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions.
“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.”
You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base.
But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time.
That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.
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For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of.
Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it.
Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges.
The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it.
“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking.
Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.”
“I kind of like it.”
He snickered. “Only kinda?”
More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter.
He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident.
So was he.
“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?”
There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former.
“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”
Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?”
Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge.
Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence.
Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship.
“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.”
You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.”
“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused.
What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”
Was. That meant not any more.
Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”
“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough.
You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?”
“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”
Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”
“Then, stop deflecting.”
With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist.
As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily.
You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces.
A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable.
You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait.
Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”
Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow.
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Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction.
But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.
Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about.
One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”
“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”
Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”
“Just turned six about a week ago.”
“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”
He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart.
You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”
Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?”
“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.”
Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?”
There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.”
Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?”
You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.”
“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.”
You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him.
It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal.
You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait.
Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and you peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways.
He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”
“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”
There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?”
You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?”
“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?”
Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment.
“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time.
Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.”
You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly.
At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were.
Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.
Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?”
“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”
Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it.
As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing.
You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.”
“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing.
After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free.
It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice.
“You never answered my question that day.”
“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”
Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?”
“About you, or in general?”
He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”
You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.”
“Why blue?”
“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked.
“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?”
“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.”
Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze.
But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew.
“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”
“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement.
You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”
“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare.
“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.”
“And that’s what gets you going?”
“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted.
Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you.
Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt.
“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.
Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.”
“Lake?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you.
There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food.
“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head.
Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.”
“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.”
“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.”
You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!”
Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture.
There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away.
Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.”
Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist.
The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.
And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood.
Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point.
When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your desires were no longer pure wants - they were needs.
“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.”
Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?”
You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”
That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal.
Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.”
You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?”
“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.”
“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.
Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”
“I never said that.”
“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased.
You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.”
Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.”
You giggled. 
Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever.
But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted.
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Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly.
For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind.
Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence.
It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion.
When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down.
“Had fun last night?”
Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.”
Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind.
Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win.
The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency.
Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might.
“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.”
He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.”
“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?”
You sighed. “I do.”
Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.”
“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you.
The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.”
Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you.
“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.”
Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb.
Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom.
By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.”
He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.” 
Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it. 
You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would.
The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long.
His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part.
“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned.
“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening.
He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck.
Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.”
In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent.
The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner. 
He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time.
That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out.
“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more.
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close.
When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag.
“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”
You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.
He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.”
Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment.
Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much.
Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”
As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed.
You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage.
There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile.
You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.”
You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.”
“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”
Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.”
Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”
One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like.
His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.”
“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”
“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”
“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.”
Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”
His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck.
“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working.
Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps.
The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn.
That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.
You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts.
Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled.
“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.”
Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch.
“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere.
Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?”
“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size.
In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.
This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job.
But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did.
“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already.
Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel.
Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”
Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.”
When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his.
Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name.
He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”
That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch.
“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer.
Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time.
There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much.
Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness.
Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full.
“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.”
There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.
You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass.
Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t.
Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?”
“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing.
There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars.
Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily.
“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?”
You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”
Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?”
“I was not screaming.”
“You were screaming. And…,”
Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving.
“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away.
Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”
You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”
Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.”
Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof.
He was your temptation.
5K notes · View notes
zetaares · 1 year
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lifestyles of the rich and famous
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Your coworkers are really tired of hearing you pine over a guy who doesn’t want you, so they decide it’s finally time to do something about it. Thankfully the hot young son of the country club’s owner just walked in the door and sat at your bar.
main pairing: rich boy!johnny suh x bartender!reader
minor pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x reader
genre: fluff, suggestive, slight angst !!MDNI!!
length: 8k
warnings: adults having sex, smoking weed, drinking alcohol, vaping, jaehyun is a lying fuckboy
net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet
if you repost or translate my work i’ll feed you to the metaphorical sharks (aka angry tumblr writers)
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You’re a simple girl with simple desires, you like to think. You’re not demanding, nor are your dating requirements long or difficult to meet.
So when the guy you’ve been seeing for a couple of weeks decides that now of all times is the most appropriate time to begin speaking to you with short responses and leave you on read for hours on end, you’re pissed.
So much so that you feel validated enough in your desire to tell him off to your friends/coworkers but they seem to have differing opinions.
“I mean, he’s not your boyfriend Y/N.” Doyoung, always too blunt for his own good, says and it makes a groan escape your chest as you let your head fall onto Yerim’s shoulder in a painful thud.
“Thanks, Doyoung.” You say, speech mumbled against Yerim’s cotton polo uniform.
“You need a rebound. Let this inconsistent and slimy motherfucker go.” Yerim says and you hum in response, still leaning into her shoulder from your position behind her back.
“I don’t want another guy, I want Jaehyun.”
You’re startled into standing up straight by the reverberating banging sound of a hand coming into contact with the metal table separating you two from Doyoung.
“Too bad,” Doyoung says, looking directly into your eyes “He’s not yours so just let it go!”
You stare back with wide eyes and Yerim interjects, turning to lean against the table behind her and face you.
“He’s right, babe. It’s time to let him go. You don’t deserve to be led on like this.” Yerim says with her usual gentle tone of voice and you frown, looking down at the ugly shoes your boss forces you to wear behind the bar.
“You’re right. You’re both right.” You say, turning to give Doyoung your scariest look, “You’re incredibly cruel about it, but you’re right.”
Sure, your friends may have been right about your need to leave Jaehyun in the dust and move on to bigger and better things but you’re weak and never claimed not to be.
That’s why you choose to spend the last five minutes of your thirty minute break in the corner of the staff restroom taking and then deleting what feels like fifty Snapchat pictures.
Emerging from the restroom you’re immediately faced with Yerim with her arms crossed across her chest, staring you down in the way that communicates that she knows exactly what you were just getting up to.
“Either you just took the fattest shit of your life, or you were just texting Jaehyun.”
You don’t respond, brushing your shoulder on hers to pass her and clock back in.
With your last customer served her jack and coke, you decide it’s finally time to check your phone again. Forty five minutes is enough time for a man to come to his senses, open your Snapchat, and respond with an overly enthusiastic compliment and apology for being so unavailable, right?
Before you can even allow your phone to scan your face, it’s being snatched out of your hand.
“What the fuck!” You exclaim, hand chasing Yerim’s in an unattractive and unsuccessful flail.
“No, you aren’t doing this.” She chastises with one finger pointing at you. She’s somehow slipped your phone to somewhere you can’t spot it with a quick scan of your eyes up and down her now apron-clad body.
“You can have it back after your shift.” She says and you roll your eyes at her, leaning your hip uncomfortably into the short fridge behind the bar.
“Come on Yerim, that’s in three hours. What if he responds and asks me to hangout? That won’t be nearly enough time to get ready and by then he will have made other plans and-“ you ramble your embarrassing train of thought.
“Hush, you’re embarrassing yourself in front of a cute guy.”
You frown, arms crossing your chest as you follow Yerim’s line of sight to a bar stool behind you currently taken by oh- an extremely attractive guy with long brown hair tucked behind his ears. He’s waiting patiently for... well, you.
“Go serve him.” She says once you whip your head back over to face her again.
“Fuck.” You groan, grabbing your sanitizing towel and pretending to wipe down the bar in an act of stubborn defiance to Yerim and procrastination.
You know him, you’d be a fool if you didn’t. He’s what some would call a country club celebrity with how he’s gained recognition for being the best singles tennis player and for his last name being on the front of the building. His family photos are littering the hallways, a particularly precious photo of him as a kid with a half melted ice cream cone is situated on the front door of the child care center.
His father owns the country club, and he is much cuter in person than he is in his old family photos. He doesn’t visit your bar ever, so you’re intrigued to know why he’s here.
“Oh,” Yerim says stepping into your bubble and combing her fingers through your knotted hair, “go fix your hair first.” She says and you roll your eyes, hand blindly grasping at your back pocket in search of your cell phone.
“Here,” she says, handing you her bulky iPhone with some Sanrio phone case, “go in the back.” You roll your eyes again at her mistrust of you before following her orders, quickly rushing into the kitchen and pulling up her front camera to inspect your appearance.
Emerging from the kitchen, you feel a pair of eyes on you immediately and you look right back, making unexpected eye contact with the handsome man who’s been waiting. You flash him your brightest customer service smile before rushing over to stand across from him at the bar.
“Hey, sorry about that,” he waves you off in dismissal of your apology before smiling at you, “what can I get for you?”
He’s still smiling a very polite smile, his eyes shining with kindness and it makes you weak in the knees. Working at a country club comes with a lot of perks, but those perks were bought with a price. The price being dealing with the type of people that belong to a country club, the rudest and most stuck up wealthy people in your town. You don’t meet people like him so often, genuinely kind people.
“I’ll take a vodka soda with extra lime whenever you find the time.” He smiles at you again and you actually feel your knees buckling at his kindness.
“Premium or well?” You respond out of habit, your brain fogging with his presence. He shoots you an unbelievable look that makes you both laugh. Forgoing an immediate response, you shake your head and scoff at yourself when you grab a glass to pour ice into.
“Top shelf, duh, sorry again.” You apologize as you press the sparkling water button on your soda gun.
“Stop apologizing so much!” He says and you look up from his drink to catch his kind eyes staring back at you in a way that makes you want to blush.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” You say, now in front of him situating the lime wedge on the side of his glass.
He takes a sip before responding. “I just know how understaffed you are.”
You lean an elbow up on the bar, “I didn’t know it was that obvious.” Your cheeks flare up with another blush.
“It isn’t!” He clarifies, hand coming down to grab at your forearm in reassurance. You ignore sparks that shoot from his contact with your skin.
“I just-“ He says, removing his hand to play with the branded cocktail napkin under his glass, “sometimes they actually put me to work around here and I know how small your staff is.”
You hum, pensive frown on your face as you look around. You are short staffed.
“So what work do they make you do?” You tease, not really wanting this conversation to end.
“Dad tries to put my accounting degree to work by making me do our books every once in a while, but more recently he’s got me planning for the new garden. As if I would know anything about landscaping.”
You laugh at his charming joke, taking a moment just to steal a quick once over his appearance. He’s wearing a blue polo with some brands insignia stitched onto the breast pocket, a watch you’re assuming is very expensive from a luxury brand on his right wrist, and a tennis racket cover placed on the barstool next to him. He’s handsome, of course, with his kind eyes and long brown hair tucked behind his surprisingly pierced ears.
“Well I’ve been a bartender since college. So I wish I could be of more assistance, but I can’t offer any help.” You quip with a sigh and he smiles back.
“You have your degree, huh? What’re you doing here?” You find it charming that he’s actually engaging you in conversation.
“All I said was that I was in college, not that I finished.” You say, slight embarrassment lacing your voice.
“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t finish.” He says and you shoot him a look urging him on to explain further.
He smirks at your offense before continuing, “We wouldn’t have met if you didn’t work here, and I don’t know about you, but I’m quite enjoying your company.”
A blush creeps it’s way up your neck, a coy expression on your face as your head drops down to stare at the sanitization bucket behind the bar.
“Gotta go, I have a tennis lesson in fifteen.” He says, standing and taking another sip of his drink.
“See you around.” He says with a final look and you nod, waving him off.
No more than 30 seconds after you watch his tall figure leave the restaurant, you see him slowly jogging back towards the bar.
“What’s your name?” He says, wrist resting on the back of the barstool opposite of you.
With a grin you tell him your name and he replies with a warm smile.
“I’m Johnny.”
“Nice to meet you, Johnny.” Your voice light with affection.
He nods at you, reaching into his wallet and digging out a five dollar bill, throwing it on the bar and ignoring your shouts of protest as he leaves the restaurant for the final time.
Later that evening when you check your phone after Yerim slides it at you from across the bar, you notice that Jaehyun still hasn’t opened your photo.
Surprisingly, though, you don’t care nearly as much as you expected to; with the thoughts of a very tall and handsome tennis player in the back of your mind.
Johnny comes by a lot more often after your first interaction, and you’re just a little too aware to pretend like you don’t know what for. He comes in, same bashful smile on his face as always, sits down, waits patiently for your attention, spends at least an hour or two chatting with you, and then leaving a five dollar bill on the bar.
Today’s no different, except that it’s been 98 hours since Jaehyun last spoke to you and you’re feeling antsy for attention.
“Johnny, hi!” You chirp out, leaping up out of your stool to walk over to the same section of the bar he always sits at.
“Someone’s a happy girl.” He snickers as he sits down.
“Yes she is, how did you know?” You tease, teeth sinking into your top lip.
“So what’s the good news? What’s got you so happy?” He says, smile painting his face. He thinks you’re cute.
“My favorite customer walked in.” You say, cheeky smile on your face as you look dead into his eyes from beneath your eyelashes.
He pretends to be touched, as his hand flies up to press against his chest in an overly dramatic way that makes you laugh and drop your flirty act.
“I have a proposal for you.” He leans in, eyes sparkling.
“What is it?” You blush.
“Let’s go swimming tonight!” He whisper shouts.
You tilt your head in confusion when you look up at him, “the pool closed at 4.”
“Not when you fucking own the pool, Y/N!” He leans in, eyes anticipating.
He’s so cute this way, and it feels really nice to be wanted when you’ve been getting ignored so obviously by the man you think you want.
It’s a no brainer.
“Let’s go!” You say after rolling your eyes and Johnny stands up on the foot bar of the stool, hands up in the air in victory.
You giggle as you swat a dry towel at his now exposed lower torso to encourage him to sit back down. Once he’s sat, he clears his throat and looks around with wide eyes in fake suspicion, and it just makes you laugh harder. For a moment your eyes meet as you two laugh, and it forces the butterflies in your belly to awaken and flutter in their cage.
He seems to have felt the moment shift too, as his smile falters for a second before going back to his wide grin.
“I’ll be back when you’re done.” Johnny says, grabbing his drink, tossing a five dollar bill on the bar, winking, and then quickly exiting the bar.
Two hours later, the bar is absolutely dead with zero customers in sight. You still have ten minutes to go of your shift, yet you’ve already completed all of your closing duties, just sitting by and waiting.
“Damn, what did you do to everyone?” The familiar voice shouts from the entrance of the bar and you smile. Finally, you think.
“You’re early, I still have a couple minutes to go.” You pout as he approaches the bar.
“Seriously? But nobody’s here. Let’s just go.” He draws out the ‘o’ sound, leaning his tall body over the bar to get in your face.
“Johnny, I’m not breaking two staff rules tonight.” You wave him off and he lets out a humph sound as he sits.
A mischievous smile then moves over his face as he opens a wallet, and hands you a twenty dollar bill.
You grab it between your pointer and middle finger and eye him suspiciously, “What’s this for?”
He smiles even wider, he’d wanted you to ask. “I wanna buy my favorite bartender a drink on the last ten minutes of her shift. Is that okay?”
You smile, waltzing over to the cash register and opening a tab. If Johnny wants you to enjoy your evening, who are you to stop him from making that happen?
Forty minutes and two more drinks downed, the two of you are finally tip toeing down the cobblestone path to the pool deck.
Johnny looks over his shoulder at you with a playful glint in his eyes as he hushes you.
“Whatever happened to ‘there is no closing time, I own the place!’?” You chastise, weak fists coming in contact to the back of his shoulder.
“I- oh shit,” he says, arm flying out to stop you in your tracks, but of course you drunkenly stumble right into his arm anyways.
He’s got a focused look on his face, and his chin is tilted up as if he’s listening out for someone. The coast is clear, obviously, when Johnny begins walking now with you two side by side.
“I may have fibbed about the no rules thing.” You roll your eyes at him in the dark. Of course he lied about it, you wouldn’t be here sneaking around after sundown if he wasn’t.
“No fucking shit.” you snap, but quickly dissolve into drunk giggles when he makes an offended face at you. He’s been doing that a lot lately, making you laugh uncontrollably and feel giddy like a little girl with a crush.
“Gimme your jacket.” Johnny says and you frown, immediately shaking your head no. The evening breeze is just a little too cold for your liking.
“Come on, I gotta get the gate open.” He whines, gesturing towards the locked gate in front of you.
With another frown on your drunk face, you shimmy your athletic jacket off your shoulders and hand it to Johnny, who quickly grabs the jacket by the two arm holes creating a makeshift hook. He uses his height to his advantage (and frankly, for your visual enjoyment) to lean over the gate and Macgyver the door to open with one swift pull of the jacket over the stem of the door handle.
The view is great, you must add. His t-shirt has ridden up a bit exposing a small sliver of his midriff and seeing him use his height so smoothly is making you feel weak in the knees. You can’t help it, you’re drunk and a very attractive man is being just so manly in front of your eyes.
When the door pops open, you let out a squeal of excitement and he laughs, pushing the door open for you to step in before him.
“So that tiny fib about no rules really was a big fib, huh?” You tease as you strip off the oversized tee shirt you were using as a coverup.
It takes him a moment to respond, he’s a little distracted by the sight of your body to have heard your teasing remark.
“I— uh, sorry?” He says, bashful smile on his face as he strips out of his own tank top, and approaches you with a flirty smile on his face.
He’s close enough to touch you, but he doesn’t, and that makes your breath catch in your throat. He’s got a look on his face that you don’t recognize, and that bothers you a bit, but you brush it off.
You’re the first to run away and plunge into the deep end of the pool, your ears filling with the roaring sound of your body splitting the previously still water. Before you even have the chance to notice the cool water causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, Johnny’s jumping in after you, sending suffocating waves in your direction.
You squeal again, swatting the water towards him when he resurfaces, and running away towards the shallow end so you can stand on your flat feet.
He follows you, of course he does, and soon enough he’s standing in front of you with his whole upper body exposed above the water. You aren’t sure how you’ve never taken long enough to notice his height before, but it’s definitely on your radar now.
“Hey.” He smiles down at you, droplets of water dripping down from where they had collected on the end of his long dark hair.
“Hi,” you whisper up at him. The tension from before is here again as you stare up at him. Like before, he’s close enough to touch you, and you desperately want to feel his hands on your waist, but he doesn’t. Too afraid of what this would mean, of where you are now and where things may be going.
Fuck, you think, you might like Johnny.
You’re a simple girl with simple emotions and simple responses to those emotions. So what do you do at this realization?
Well, you splash him right in his stupid handsome face, of course.
He retaliates almost immediately by stepping back and splashing you with far more aggression than you did with him.
“Hey, you’re not playing fair!” You scream as you swat blindly at the water, too afraid to open your eyes and get water in them. You’ve already got a mouth full of chlorine from the laughing you’re doing, you don’t want the stinging feeling in your eyes too.
“You started it!” He shouts from the other side of the pool, not letting up, even for a moment, for you to breathe.
“Truce! Truce!” You call out over the noise, stumbling over your own feet below the water, gently floating back until your upper back is resting against the cold and hard concrete edge of the pool.
He begins to laugh when he sees your panicked face, moving in closer to you to tease you up close.
“Man, you fucking destroyed me. How can someone be good at splashing water?” You exclaim, defeated.
A smile is still on his face as he slowly takes a couple extra steps into your space.
“Tennis, baby.” He says, exaggerating his point by mimicking a down swing, hand dipping below the water and splashing up at you again.
You let out a screech, “I called a truce!”
He just chuckles, hands coming up in defense as he steps in closer with a playful look on his face. His eyes dip down to the cleavage exposed by your bikini top, only for a moment, before flicking up to look into your (still panicked) eyes.
He doesn’t say anything as he reaches his destination, toes almost touching below the water. His hands come up on either side of you to rest on the edge of the pool, your faces nearly inches apart. If the cold water of the pool hadn’t cooled you off so much, you’d be blushing like crazy. Your heartbeat does pick up again as he looks down at you.
Is he about to kiss you? He looks like he wants to, and you aren’t sure if you’d have the willpower to stop him if he tried.
Jaehyun crosses your mind at that moment. Sure, you aren’t official, but you think you'd like to be. How would he feel knowing you’re having a late night crime date with the wealthy son of your boss?
With the unmistakable look of want that flashes across Johnny’s eyes, you feel yourself begin to crumble. If you had wanted your brain to go back to Jaehyun in this moment you aren’t sure you’d be able to, too entranced under Johnny's spell. How can you still smell his woody cologne even after he got wet? Maybe that’s just his natural scent. The prospect of that being true sparks a fire of desire in your belly.
He’s leaning in now, figuring he had given you enough opportunities to push him off and away from you.
Of course, as if the universe is sending you a message, you hear another voice pierce through and pop the bubble you’ve created with Johnny.
“Hey, what’s going on in there!”
You haven’t been able to get last night off your mind, pulling all of your best distraction techniques out.
You tried to speak to Doyoung, but he had told you that your credits for emotional support friend had run out for the month, so that was a bust. You had tried to focus on work, but today was slow with the weekend just around the corner. You had even resorted to scrolling on Instagram, but then an ad for a pool cleaning company had come up, and your brain went straight back to the almost-kiss that you and Johnny nearly shared.
You hadn’t tried one thing though, but you think it would be a pretty shitty method.
Fuck it, you think, Johnny had left you wanting the company of a warm body and you know just the person to text.
Y/N: hey
Y/N: its been a min
You sit anxiously, biting at your freshly done manicure. This was one way to get your mind off of him, overwhelming anxiety and anticipation.
Jaehyun: ik lol sorry. u kno how work gets
Thank God, you think as you type out your next message.
Y/N: can i come over tn? i wanna hang out.
He responds almost immediately. He knew exactly what you were asking him for.
Jaehyun: ya. see u then ;)
Having the plans solidified with Jaehyun doesn’t feel the way you had originally thought they would, a sneaking feeling of guilt coming up over you.
What’s gotten into you? It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten who you’re pursuing.
It’s still Jaehyun, right?
It must be, since he’s the guy who you’ve been going out with for weeks, and have cried endless tears over. Johnny is just a friend. A friend who almost kissed you last night, but ultimately just a friend. You shouldn’t feel guilty for continuing to pursue Jaehyun, he’s the guy you want.
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
The sky is dark when you finally pull up to parallel park in front of Jaehyun’s house. You’re nervous for some reason, your palms slick against your steering wheel. It’s even more embarrassing that you didn’t have time after work to change, so you’re sitting in your usual white tennis skirt and club branded polo shirt.
You can hear shouts when you first approach the door, the noise startling you so bad you question if going inside is even the right choice. You decide the best call is to just text him that you’ve arrived.
Almost immediately after you hit send, you hear a loud hushing sound and a voice whisper-shout, “Shut the fuck up! Haechan, shut the fuck up. I have someone at the door.” and then a chorus of teasing “ooh”’s from the other voices.
It makes you smile at the boyish charm of Jaehyun caring, and that’s how he finds you when he opens the door. He’s barefoot and wearing grey sweatpants and a white tee shirt with a stretched out neckline from years of wear. His hair is wet, and his eyes are drooping like he had been smoking.
“Hey, babe.” He says and invites you into the now quiet home. You follow him down the dark hallway until you finally see on your left is a living room full of 6 men, all splayed out on different mismatched pieces of furniture, some MMA fight playing on the TV. The stale scent of marijuana lingers in the air, reinforced by the big blue and green water marble design bong on the coffee table.
“We’ll be in my room.” Jaehyun addresses the crowd, and a loud response of ooh’s and laughter get thrown in your direction. Jaehyun pushes you gently towards the hallway to the right of you, and you hear snickering from Jaehyun and more hushed whispers.
“Ignore them, they’re fucking weird.” Jaehyun whispers in your ear from behind. You can’t help but agree, but wonder if he has the self awareness to know that he’s acting just as weird as they are.
His room looks exactly how you expected it to, with a king sized mattress sitting atop a tall box spring on the floor directly adjacent to the door, a dresser across from the bed with some Netflix show quietly playing on the large TV. There’s purple LED lights stuck unevenly to the perimeter of the walls.
From the moment that the door is shut and locked, his hands are low on your hips. Your heartbeat picks up in speed at the contact, turning around to face him.
“Hi.” He says, smug smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you. It’s a gentle peck, and it makes a blush creep up and land on your cheeks. You hope the dim lighting hides your color.
“Hey, it’s been a while huh?” You jab, hands coming up to rest the palms of your hands against his firm pecs. You can feel his heartbeat through your left hand, it’s steady and slow cadence contrasting to your fast and hard heartbeat.
He raises one eyebrow at you, his hand trailing down to grab at your ass, “Come on baby,” he growls out before nudging his way into your neck to press a warm kiss to the space next to your carotid artery. “Don’t be like that. You know I’m busy.”
You melt at the feeling of his tongue poking out and licking a small stripe up your neck, sucking in the skin immediately after.
Confusingly, Johnny crosses your mind, and the idea of him seeing you with a hickey on your neck embarrasses you so bad that you tell Jaehyun not to mark you.
“Boring, but okay.” Is all he says before grabbing you by your hand and leading you to lie down on his bed.
You’re putty in his hands the moment he has you both naked. His skillful hands, mouth, and dick take you down like you’ve never been taken before. You’ve never moaned that loud or experienced such pleasure at the hands of a man. It’s so good, it makes you wonder why you didn’t do this earlier, but then you remember that he’s never invited you over before.
He’s never wanted you here before now. That must mean something, right? That he waited until after you had already gotten to know one another before having sex with you?
That means he likes you and wants to take you seriously, right?
In the afterglow of your orgasm, your head lies uncomfortably on Jaehyun’s bare chest. You make quiet and unfamiliar chit chat with Jaehyun until you’ve both caught your breaths.
Although you just had the best orgasm of your life, the post-nut clarity is hitting you like a bus, his hands feeling too foreign around your body, now suddenly hyper aware of the smeared remains of cum on your back drying down.
“Hey, uh, I hate to be that guy but I have a really early meeting at work tomorrow so,” he says, cold hands tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Oh,” is all you say, suddenly feeling far too embarrassed of your naked body in front of the man, “do you want me to leave?”
He just frowns and takes a moment to read the look between your eyes before sighing loudly and looking away, his focus now taken by Money Heist playing on the TV near the foot of his bed.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he lies and you can see right through it with the way his arms are slowly letting go of you, and how he won’t look you in the eyes.
“I just have work, baby. You get it right?” He says, and you have no choice but to nod silently, ignoring the deep sting in your chest and the tightness in your throat. It’s odd that although the one thing you want to do is run, him asking you to leave makes it hurt.
You get dressed quickly and awkwardly as he lies on the bed, fishing a vape out from his bedside table drawer and taking a few big hits, eyes staring straight ahead at the TV.
“I’m gonna go now.” You whisper, one hand on the door in a silent beg that he would hurry up and get dressed to walk you to the door.
He looks over at you, charming smile on his face as he sits up and awkwardly crawls across his bed to sit on the edge in front of you, his soft dick on display. You’d find him pathetic if you weren’t under him five minutes ago.
He leans in and places a hard and emotionless kiss to your lips. His kisses now feel nothing like they did earlier today, and you wonder if post-nut clarity could really be this powerful.
“I’ll see you.” He says, eyes scanning your body up and down.
You roll your eyes the moment you’re not facing him, and walk straight out his front door, ignoring the whoops and hollers from his roommates who definitely heard you and Jaehyun.
None of them seem to mind that you’re unaccompanied, or as if they were expecting anything different. Then again, why should they care? Jaehyun never introduced you to them.
When you finally slide into the drivers side of your car, and your cold and wet panties make uncomfortable contact with the inside of your upper left thigh, the sensation alone is enough to make you burst into hot tears.
Later that evening when you’re lying in bed after a long, hot shower and a motivational phone call with Yerim, you send him a text.
Y/N: we shouldn’t see each other anymore.
Read: 2:46AM
Johnny finds you the next day crouching behind the bar with your forehead in your hands. You didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night, and you’re feeling hungover after the whirlwind of confusing emotions you’ve felt over the last couple of days.
“Tough shift?” He says, eyes glimmering with amusement as he looks down at you hiding behind the bar.
“The worst.” You say, standing up straight and grabbing a glass to make him his usual drink.
“Wait,” he says, hand grabbing your wrist as you go to pour the soda in the iced glass.
“I have something that might chill you out. Wanna join me when your shift is up?” He says and you smile, reading right through his invitation and nodding with an appreciative smile on your face.
The “thing”, of course, is a perfectly rolled joint. You can’t help yourself but smile at his playful look as he presents it to you as you both sit in the front seat of some random golf cart overlooking the sunset as it falls down over the man-made lake that is central to the entire property.
He sparks it up for you in the way only a gentleman does, laughing at your antics when you pinch your fingers in a silly way to urge him to pass the joint onto you.
After a couple of passes back and forth in silence, only the whooshing sound of the breeze and the occasional tapping sound in the background as golfers across the way tee off, Johnny opens the conversation.
“So, miss Y/N,” you ignore the butterflies that erupt when he says your name in that way, “what made today so difficult?”
Ah, that. Your fuzzy brain thinks. You aren’t quite sure yet if you’re ready to divulge the details of your failed fling to your blooming crush, but you know what they say, intoxicated words are sober thoughts. And he’s right here offering to listen in a way that your friends are too fed up with you to listen to anymore, so you decide to tell him.
“I broke things off with a guy I’ve been seeing for a while.” You decide to keep it short and leave out all the embarrassing details.
“Ah,” he says as he stretches out, his arm coming to rest on the seat back behind you, deciding to let the joint die out. His arm is not around your shoulder, but a part of you really wishes it was.
“He sounds like an idiot.” He says, eyes drooping as he gives you a silly high smile.
You scoff, “He’s not an idiot for not wanting me.” He’s an idiot for other reasons, but you aren’t willing to share that just yet.
Johnny looks away from you and back out to the sunset, “Nah, he really really is. You’re a catch.”
The butterflies in your belly erupt as you swallow, staring at the side of his face with no thoughts of what to say next crossing your mind.
“Thanks.” Is what you finally croak out, reaching for the dead joint sitting on the short dashboard in front of you. When you lean back to light the joint, there’s something blocking your back from hitting the seat.
You look over at Johnny, your shoulders brushing his elbow and forearm from behind you. He smirks and gives you a side eye before snaking his arm up so that it rests across your shoulder. You don’t say anything at the new warmth and weight of his arm on you, so you just smile into the joint as you bring the lighter up to the end.
Johnny clearly isn’t reconciled with your conversation, so he continues with his compliments. He's hoping with everything in him that you pick up on his hints so he doesn’t need to continue to be so bold.
“You deserve a guy that’s gonna stick around.” He says, grabbing the newly lit joint from your fingers.
You scoff once more, scooting over to be a little closer to him on the seat as he takes a long drag, letting the slight spring breeze carry the smoke away out of his lips as he exhales.
“Try just a guy to stick.” You say with a dry chuckle, “we weren’t even official.”
Johnny hums and nods his head in understanding, passing the joint back to you.
“You fuck him?” He asks, and you choke on your hit. Coughing out the smoke in an unattractive spittle.
“What did you say?” You ask, now facing Johnny fully in the seat, staring between his pink and spacey eyes.
“I asked if you had slept with him.” Johnny nods, speaking slower than before. He looks as if this comment is no big deal to him, like this is casual conversation between you two.
Before you even think about it, you feel the flirty words leave your lips, “And if I did?”
His eyebrows raise as he grins at you, suppressing a laugh. He had gotten exactly what he wanted, “Was it good?”
You break eye contact this time, looking over the lake, “Maybe.” You shrug.
“See that explains why a stunning girl like you would stay with a loser like him.”
You say nothing in response, choosing to stare ahead at the golfers across the lake, the oldest gentleman of the pack teeing up his very poor shot.
Johnny takes a pause before speaking an unwelcome comment, “You need a guy that’ll stick around and dick you down.”
You scoff out another laugh, looking at him again with a disbelieving stare.
“Oh yeah? Where would I find that.” You spit the last word with bitterness, head falling to look at the hangnail you had been picking at between passes of the joint.
“Here, actually.” You stare at him in shock before he clarifies further,
“Like... me. I’m offering myself up. Only if you want, I mean.”
It takes you a minute to process what he says before it finally hits you, and it hits you hard.
You’re usually the overthinking type, if that wasn’t obvious enough, but for the first time in your life you decide to finally make an impulsive decision. You owe it to yourself and your vagina, you figure.
When your lips hit his, it takes him a moment to process what you had just done, but soon enough he’s kissing you back with a passion that makes you moan embarrassingly against his lips. He’s a soft, yet passionate kisser, allowing you to show him the ropes before taking the lead and kissing you exactly how he likes.
He’s also a surprisingly dry kisser, choosing to wait longer than you usually would to use his tongue on you. Even after a couple of flirty swipes of your tongue across his bottom lip he doesn’t give in, choosing to show you his softer side first with the slow and meaningful passes of his lips over yours.
It’s like a switch gets flipped when he does finally decide to allow your tongue to enter his mouth. He grabs you instantly by the back of your neck and waist, and pull you closer into him as your tongues dance. You moan, feeling like putty already in his hold. You’re far too overwhelmed by the feeling of the best kiss you’ve ever been given to be even tempted to touch him yet, your hands sitting prettily around his neck, allowing the pressure and the closeness to be decided by him.
His hands fumble a moment before they find your hips, moving gently over your ass to grab a hold of the back of your upper thighs to situate you on his lap. The change in position gives you an opportunity to lean back and steal a look at the man beneath you.
When you had first met Johnny you had initially only recognized his handsomeness and not much else. That’s how it began, attraction and nothing more. Overtime, however, you’ve gotten to actually know more about Johnny than his regular drink order at the bar, and what began as a simple attraction slowly grew into genuine interest. So by being here, in the lap of the man that you’re interested in, aren’t you repeating same old mistakes?
Are you repeating the same mistakes you made with Jaehyun?
“Baby,” Johnny says, reading your expression after you had stared at him for a little too long.
You hum in response, still a bit caught up in your head.
“I’m not just trying to hook up here. Do you know that?” He says, hands leaving your ass to rest gently on your waist. You frown in response, shaking your head ‘no’ to his question.
“I told you before, you need a guy who can dick you down and stick around. I wanna stick around.” He says, an embarrassed smile resting on his pink cheeks.
“What?” You say in response, and he just lets his head fall back against the seat in frustration.
“I like you, okay?” Your jaw drops, “and I also want to fuck you right now. So can we do that?” You laugh in response, fingers threading to hold him by the back of his neck, leaning him slightly into you.
“We can definitely go do that.” You giggle and he quickly smiles, leaning up to press a quick peck to your lips before swiftly (and awkwardly) moving you off of him so he can start up the golf cart and drive you both, as quickly as possible, back to the lobby of the country club.
Johnny doesn't give you long to take in the sight of his luxury apartment before his lips are on yours again. He has the same passion from before, but slightly elevated. Like he had worked himself up on the drive over.
When he picks you up, and tosses you lightly down on his plush leather sofa, you notice something. The absence of purple lights. When Johnny later picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, you make another note. A bed with a bed frame and headboard.
When you both reach your peaks of pleasure, you don't feel regretful and dirty, you feel alive. When you step into the granite tiled shower, you don't feel gross, you feel giddy when he joins you. When you fall asleep with your head on his chest, you don't dream of Jaehyun, you see flashes of Johnny.
The next morning when Johnny walks you out to your car, kisses you on the forehead, and tells you to text him when you get home, an unmistakable feeling washes over you. 
The overwhelming feeling of something very big, and important beginning. 
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a/n: sorry there’s no actual smut, I decided at the last minute to drop both sex scenes for the overall plot and flow. if you’d like me to post the sex scenes as one shots lmk and I’ll get on it! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated :)
taglist: @dazzlingsya @oopstoshi @neolovely @hopefulchick @thysrs @oimqrks @lydinews @xiaomeilovespizza @got-sum-badhabits @inbluehour @shiningnono @soonnypeach @onlyrosyjohnny @reader221 @matchahyuck @9763vill @svntdream @johnbananaa-blogg @multifandombtvhh @jeonwonuniverse @justineasian
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zetaares · 1 year
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next door again - jjk
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pairing: yandere jk (though not so yandere anymore) x female reader
genre: smut, angst
18+
words: 1.8k
warnings: thigh riding, he's possessive, a bit yandere, he doesn't stop praising her. not much more than that tbh, don't want to spoil it but he cums too.
summary: jungkook doesn't like it when he sees you with taehyung, doesn't like it when taehyung won't step back. that's how you end up here, riding his thigh to prove who you belong to.
a/n: when i read this back i wasn't as proud of it as i hoped i would be... but i still love it lolol and i really love this couple. a special thanks to @zetaares who suggested thigh riding and deserves all the love in the world ty.
main fic
hardly proof read and not beta read ):
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Monday had dragged on. After changing your weekend to spend time with Jungkook all you wanted to do was spend today with him as well, but one thought of those poor children with a substitute teacher… you had worked hard for this job and you weren't about to sacrifice it for some man. Even if that man was really good at sex. And was smoking hot. 
It's the end of the day, you're in the carpark waving goodbye to one of your students when two things happen simultaneously.
Taehyung places his hand on your shoulder.
Jungkook pulls up on his bike.
The thing is, you're still preoccupied with the first to really pick up on the second so as you turn to Taehyung, you begin the speech you'd had in your head since lunch. He'd sat next to you in the staffroom and failed to give you any room, his knee pressing against yours.
"Taehyung, I appreciate you as a boss but-" 
He still has a grip on your shoulder. You feel so uncomfortable. "But I really need some personal space" He tries pulling you closer by the shoulder. He's cornered you because he knows you won't make a scene with all of the children watching. 
He doesn't give up and he's looking at you as if he might-
"She said she needed her personal space." Jungkook's beside you, and you're grateful because there was no way you could have escaped that by yourself. You realise he has his hand on your waist only when he's pulling you closer to him and away from Taehyung. You don't consider what it looks like for a tattooed, pierced, sexy, motorcycle man to pull you close to him. Five year olds would never forget this. Neither would Taehyung, the look on his face. "And who are you?" Taehyung asks him.
"Her boyfriend, who is also a boxer, so don't try this again," he leans down and kisses your forehead. The action has you weak in the knees. You knew that he was only calling you his girlfriend to get Taehyung off your back but it was hot nonetheless. It sounded right. He holds your hand, pulling you away from the scene.
"Do you actually box?" you ask him as he pulls you away, a smile breaks out on his face.
"I'm a county champion" He's got that cocky smile on his face that you'd accustomed yourself too. 
"No way?" you exclaim, letting him hand you your helmet. 
"That idiot is still looking at us." He says, glancing at Taehyung. The area is pretty empty of children, a couple of mums hang about by the entrance, but they aren't paying much attention, and their children are running about mindlessly on the grass banks. "If there weren't children here." Jungkook turns and looks at you, his eyes wide and angry. "I would fuck you over this bike so he knows who you belong to."
"Oh" is all you can manage, heat rushing to your core. There's a part of you that would really like that, but you cringe at how weird and dirty it was so you climb onto the back of the bike behind him, snuggling into his back and gripping him tight. Jungkook revs the bike as he exits the car park. What a scene. You loved it. Taehyung would never bother with you again. Brilliant.
Your mind is clear of thoughts as Jungkook drives through the backstreets, he’s still careful when you’re on the bike with him, your confidence has risen, gripping him around his waist, pressing your whole body to his to keep stable. The helmet restricts the wind from running through your hair and you desperately wish it would, the bike gives you a feeling of freedom. It takes you half the time it would if you were to drive, Jungkook could easily skip the rush-hour traffic.  When you’re home, you climb off his bike and head to his house on instinct. You had practically moved in this weekend, and you had no intention of leaving any time soon. The second you walk in the door, you slip off your shoes and hang your coat up on the hooks, Jungkook walks past you, straight towards the living room where he sits on the sofa with his arms crossed and legs open wide. 
“What's wrong Koo” you ask him, and he huffs.
“Nothing” he mumbles, looking away from you.
“Hey” you say, concerned you’d done something wrong.
“Does that man always irritate you?” he asks.
“Yeah, but I am used to it.” you reassure him, unsure why jungkook's opinion on you and Taehyung even bothers you. It wasn’t as if you were dating.
Jungkook looks at you, then to his lap and you think he’s about to gesture for you to sit there, so you make your way over to him. Though he stops you before you can sit down, playing with the button of your trousers, when he goes to pull them down, you let him, watching as his eyes widen at the lacy lingerie you’d put on this morning, just for him. He spends a moment just looking at you before pulling them down and holding you as you step out of them. “So beautiful. All for me,” he tells you, and you blush. 
He looks up at you, as if to check you were okay. “Want you to ride my thigh.” Your eyes go wide, shocked at his want to please you. “Want you to leave a mark on my grey joggers.”
You shudder, your nipples hardening and heat rushing to your core as he spoke. You nod, and he grabs your waist to pull you towards his thigh. Your skin against the soft fabric of his joggers, and the hard muscles of his thighs underneath, makes you want to collapse, but he kisses you, still gripping onto your waist to keep in control of your body. With your lips pressed against one anothers, you bite and nip at his skin, desperate for him to let you move. When he pulls away you pout, “Jungkook please” you beg him, he smiles.
“What do you want, Love” Jungkook teases, as if he hadn’t been the one to suggest this.
“Wanna ride your thigh” you whisper, looking away from him as you speak.
“You do huh” he taunts, you're hot all over from the embarrassment of it. You hum anyways.
“Good girl,” he lets go of your waist, sitting back and resting his hands behind his head, relaxed as you slowly grind yourself against him. Trying not to moan, trying not to give him that satisfaction, because damn you’d never done anything like this before and it felt so good. He watches your cunt as it glides against his bottoms, hoping to get a glimpse of the wetness you’d leave there. 
“Do I feel good Y/N?” he asks, still watching as you rut against him. 
“Always feel so good Jungkook” you reply, letting a small moan fall past your lips in the process. Only causing Jungkook to smirk in response. You could tell he liked getting you off. “Do you like making me cum jungkook?”
“I do, could watch you cum every minute of every day.” he reaches forward, grabbing hold of your hips and helping you move on his thigh. The weight he applies onto your hips only increases the friction of your clit rubbing against his thigh. You shift your knee, grinding it against his clothed dick everytime you move forward on his thigh. “Fuck” he says, hissing though his teeth. From your mouth falls a constant chant of “oh my god, oh my god jungkook” in a repetitive circle. 
“This is going to make me cum in my boxers” he tells you, throwing his head back in pleasure, though quickly correcting himself when he realises he couldn’t see you with his eyes on the ceiling. You quickly make it your main priority to rub your knee against his confined cock, angry against the confinements of his boxers and joggers. 
The two of you are a moaning mess, receiving pleasure from each other in the weirdest way. You had never done anything so wonderful in your life. The warmth and firmness of Jungkook under you, the way your bare knee brushed his clothed dick.
“Jungkook-” you try to warn him, but you can’t speak, out of breath from the effort and pleasure of it.
“I’m close too” he mumbles, his ears red underneath his shaggy hair. “You’re so hot, so sexy for me.” 
You whine. “So good for me, my good girl.” the imprints of his nails will surely be embedded into your skin for days.
He’s just rambling because he's close to orgasm, but his words only make your release closer and closer. “Jungkook please” you say, though you don’t know what you’re begging him for.
“Damn it, I am cumming” he says, his hands still helping you grind against him. He throws his head back, and your orgasm hits when you see the dark patch of his cum stain the inside of his joggers. You sudder, hardly able to hold yourself up on his leg, you collapse forward, almost feeling like the world has paused for this moment where your mind goes blank of everything but complete bliss and satisfaction. It pauses for you and Jungkook, who runs circles on your waist with his thumb as you come down from your high. It feels like stepping off a rollercoaster, when your heart is still viciously beating. 
You’re breathing in sync with Jungkook until you both return to normal. Suddenly feeling one of your thighs cramping you sit up and use Jungkook's shoulder as an anchor to stand up. He hisses, cursing under his breath.
“Y/N, take my phone” 
You do, standing up on wobbling legs. “Take a picture of me from my stomach downwards”
At first you weren’t sure why, but once you took a few steps back you could see. His left thigh, where you had been grinding against him, was stained a darker grey due to your wetness, and his crotch is wet from his cum. He looked like some kind of sex god. You snap a picture, wobbling back to him and passing him back his phone.
“Might send this to your creep of a boss so he knows you’re mine.”
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mini taglist:
@hoseokgrecns @chimmisbae @kkhope @hoseok666 @crazyforbangtan
ty all <3
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zetaares · 1 year
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literally 4, am in my country and I can’t mf sleep
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