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0omillo0 · 5 months ago

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Calling you clingy

Jeongin x reader ;༊๋࣭ angst comfort

Jeongin wasn’t much for skinship and giving much attention—at least, not with most people. But with you, everything was different. He wanted to hold you, to wrap you in his arms when life felt heavy on your shoulders, to make you feel loved and safe. He knew about your past relationship—the one where your ex had made you feel like you were “too much,” had called you clingy whenever you tried to express your need for affection or reassurance.

Jeongin hated that someone had made you feel that way. So with you, he went out of his way to make sure you never felt like a burden. He’d pull you into his arms after a long day, kiss your forehead, and whisper, “I’ve got you.” You were his entire world, and he made sure you knew it.

But even the strongest relationships have their cracks.

It started like any other day. Jeongin had practice with the group, and you had work at your demanding job. He was stressed, but he’d kissed you goodbye that morning, promising to call you when he was free. You went to work feeling warm from the gesture, but as the hours passed, everything began to fall apart.

Your boss had been in a particularly bad mood, snapping at you over trivial mistakes. The girls in the office, who you knew were jealous of your relationship with Jeongin, whispered cruel things behind your back, loud enough for you to hear. By the time the day was over, you were emotionally drained and on the verge of tears.

You wanted nothing more than to call Jeongin. But you hesitated, not wanting to interrupt him at practice. You’d been told you were clingy before; you didn’t want him to think the same.

Jeongin, on the other hand, was having a nightmare of a day. Practice was grueling, and tensions were high among the members. Everyone was snippy, tired, and frustrated. Jeongin was trying to hold it together, but his patience was wearing thin.

His phone buzzed in his bag, but he ignored it, too overwhelmed to deal with anything else.

Your bad day turned worse when you stopped to pick up some groceries on the way home. That’s when a stranger approached you, his intentions anything but friendly.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he said, stepping into your personal space.

You tried to brush him off politely, but he persisted. “Come on, don’t be like that. Just one drink.”

“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, but your voice wavered. He didn’t seem to care, following you down the street as panic bubbled in your chest.

You grabbed your phone and texted Jeongin.

“Innie, there’s a guy following me.”

“Innie, please answer. I’m scared.”

When he didn’t reply, you called him. Once. Twice. Ten times. Each time the call went unanswered, your panic grew. Finally, on the tenth call, he picked up.

“Innie!” you cried, your voice trembling. “Please, I—”

“What do you want?!” Jeongin’s voice was sharp, laced with irritation. “Y/N, I’m busy! Can’t you leave me alone for five minutes? He was right… You’re so clingy!”

The word cut through you like a knife.

“Innie,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I… I’m sorry.”

He hung up before you could explain.

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over as you ducked into a nearby alley, your body shaking with sobs. You felt completely alone. Desperate, you called your best friend, who immediately came to pick you up.

Jeongin didn’t look at his phone again until hours later, when practice was finally over. He trudged home, exhaustion heavy in his limbs, and sank onto the couch, grabbing his phone to check his notifications.

When he saw your texts, his heart stopped.

“Innie, please answer. I need you.”

“Innie, there’s a guy following me.”

“I’m hiding. Please, Jeongin, help me.”

His stomach dropped. He immediately tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail.

“Y/N, please,” he texted. “I’m so sorry. Please let me know you’re safe.”

Minutes later, his phone buzzed. But it wasn’t you.

“She’s safe,” your best friend texted. “But she doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

Jeongin sank to the floor, guilt washing over him in waves. You had needed him—really needed him—and he had let you down. Worse, he had been cruel.

For days, Jeongin tried everything to make it up to you. He sent flowers to your best friend’s house, along with your favorite snacks and handwritten notes. But you didn’t respond. The silence was unbearable.

Then, finally, a text came through.

“I’m coming home. We need to talk.”

Jeongin paced the living room anxiously, his heart racing when he heard the door unlock. You stepped inside, your expression guarded, your eyes swollen from crying. He froze, guilt hitting him all over again.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

You set your bag down but didn’t move closer. “You called me clingy. I… trusted you...”

His throat tightened. “I didn’t mean it. I was stressed, and I… I took it out on you. I was wrong. I should have answered. I should have been there for you.” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll never forgive myself for letting you down.”

“You weren’t just not there,” you said, your voice trembling. “You hurt me, Jeongin. You said the one thing I was most afraid of hearing. Do you know how hard it was for me to reach out? And you…” Tears spilled down your cheeks. “You made me feel like I was too much. Again.”

“You’re not too much,” he said quickly, stepping closer but stopping when he saw you flinch. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I ruined it. I’ll do anything to fix this. —whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just don’t leave me.”

You looked at him, torn between your love for him and the fear of being hurt again. “I don’t know if I can trust you not to do it again.”

Tears were streaming down his face. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.” He reached for your hands but didn’t hold them, waiting for your permission. “Please, Y/N. Don’t give up on me.”

After a long moment, you let him take your hands. “I need time, Jeongin. I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”

“I’ll wait,” he whispered. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

In the weeks that followed, Jeongin kept his word. He communicated openly about his feelings, and never missed an opportunity to remind you how much you meant to him.

When you finally felt ready to come home, he held you in his arms like you were his entire world. Because to him, you were.

It wasn’t easy, but together, you rebuilt what had been broken—proving that love, when nurtured with care and effort, could overcome even the deepest wounds.

tags: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @whoa-jo

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leriexoxo · 5 days ago

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Angry Boys - Jeongin

Not So Harmless

Tags: Repressed anger, dom!Jeongin, longtime friends, choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, primal dominance, degradation, possessive language, light fearplay, size kink, not soft

Word count: 2k

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

ANGRY BOYS MASTERLIST

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You didn’t mean anything by it.

The laugh, the teasing, the way your fingers slipped through his hair like muscle memory—it was all harmless. A reflex. You’d done it a hundred times before, back when Jeongin used to blush and duck his head, smile twitching as he muttered something shy.

You expected that version of him.

But he didn’t blush this time.

He didn’t look away.

He just stared.

Still. Unblinking.

And something in your stomach dropped.

“What?” you asked, half-laughing, half-shrinking under the weight of his silence.

His voice was quiet. Low. A little too calm. “Say it again.”

You blinked. “Say what?”

“That I’m cute.”

You smiled, cautious now. “You are. You’ve always been—”

He stood.

Just like that. No warning.

He stood, and every bit of lightness between you evaporated.

Each step he took toward you felt calculated. Measured. Like he was making sure you saw it coming this time. His gaze locked onto yours as he stopped between your knees, hands stuffed into his pockets, chin tilted down just enough to shadow his eyes.

Your breath hitched.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” he said, voice gravel. “Not your sweet little safety blanket. Not the guy you get to run to when the others break your heart.”

“Jeongin—”

“I’m not done.”

His hand came up, slid into your hair—slow, almost tender.

Then he pulled.

Hard.

Your head tipped back with a gasp, eyes wide, pulse jumping.

“You treat me like I’m harmless,” he muttered, leaning in. His breath brushed your cheek. “Like I’m something soft. Easy to poke at or just to laugh with.”

You couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t have known what to say if you tried.

“Do you know how many fucking times I’ve let you do it?” he asked, voice tight, strained like he was holding something dangerous behind his teeth. “How long I’ve kept my mouth shut while you flirted with everyone else? Called me cute like it didn’t mean anything?”

Your chest rose too fast.

He smirked when he noticed.

“That’s what I thought.”

His hand let go of your hair, but not to give you space—only to drag down your body with maddening slowness. Fingertips ghosting over your throat, your collarbone, your chest. Stopping just above your ribs.

“Let me guess,” he said, gaze dropping to your lips. “You thought I’d never say anything. That I’d always be safe?. Always ‘cute’?”

The silence between you was a crackling fuse.

And then, he leaned down—so close your lips almost brushed, your knees pressed against his thighs.

“You were wrong,” he whispered.

You felt the snap. The shift. The air in the room pulled tight around you like wire, sharp enough to slice. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

He was burning.

You could taste the warning on his breath, the way his jaw tensed when you didn’t look away. Your throat dried, your thighs instinctively pressing together under his gaze—but he didn’t let you move.

“Don’t look scared now,” he murmured, eyes dark. “You started this.”

He sank to his knees.

And you didn’t dare breathe.

While he was on his knees, it didn’t feel like it was for you.

It felt more like a hunt.

Jeongin’s hands slid up the insides of your thighs like he owned them—firm, calloused fingers leaving heat in their wake as he pushed your legs open without a single ounce of hesitation.

Your body obeyed before your mind caught up.

“You really think I’m cute?” he muttered, voice low, almost bored, like he wasn’t dragging your shorts down your hips and tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. “Still wanna pat my head, huh? Talk down to me like I’m not already thinking about how you’ll sound when you’re crying on my cock?”

You flinched.

Not from fear.

From the raw heat of it—how brutal the words landed. How much you hated that you were already soaked for him.

He smirked like he knew.

Of course he knew.

Jeongin’s hands gripped your thighs again, rougher this time. Spreading you wide and dragging you to the edge of the couch like you were his fucking property. His shoulders pushed your legs apart as he settled between them, eyes dark and unreadable as he leaned in—and kissed the inside of your thigh like it pissed him off to be this gentle.

“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he whispered. “Should’ve stopped pretending I was okay being your little comfort toy.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but your thoughts shattered the second his mouth touched you.

Hot. Wet. Relentless.

He didn’t tease. Didn’t ease you in.

He devoured you.

Tongue dragging up your slit with messy precision, lips latching onto your clit like he was punishing it for every time you made him feel small. He groaned into you, low and rough, arms locking around your thighs to keep you still.

“You don’t get to squirm,” he muttered, mouth full. “You wanted to fuck around? Now you’re gonna take it.”

Your head fell back, hips jerking—instinct, helplessness. But he was stronger than you remembered. Stronger than you’d let yourself notice. His grip tightened, holding you open, keeping you spread while his tongue moved in cruel circles that never let up, never gave you space to breathe.

“Jeongin—” you gasped, voice already trembling.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t look up.

Just groaned again, the sound vibrating straight into your cunt, dragging another whimper out of your chest.

“Say my name again,” he said, voice thick and rough. “Say it like I’m the one wrecking you. Not some puppy. Not your little safe zone.”

You didn’t say it.

You moaned it.

Loud. Broken. Desperate.

And it made him smile.

That smug, dangerous twist of his lips as he pulled back—licking you off his mouth like he was tasting victory.

He stood, towering over you again.

Unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out with no ceremony, no warning—already flushed, already dripping, already fucking furious.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, voice flat, but his eyes were raging. “’Cause I’m not holding back.”

Your pulse thudded in your throat.

“Do it,” you whispered.

That was all he needed.

He grabbed your hips, dragged you down to meet him—and then he slammed in.

One thrust. One brutal, breath-stealing drive that knocked the moan straight out of you.

You arched, fingers scrabbling for anything—his shoulders, the couch, the air—while he bottomed out inside you, cock pulsing deep as he held you there and breathed through his teeth.

“Fucking tight,” he growled, hips twitching as he settled into the heat. “All that attitude and this is how your pussy welcomes me? Dripping for the guy you thought was safe?”

Your back arched again, lips parting—but you couldn’t even find the words. His cock was thick, stretching you wide, claiming every inch like it was owed to him.

And when he started to move?

There was nothing careful about it.

No rhythm. No pace. Just fucking—raw, punishing, like he needed to bury every emotion he’d ever swallowed in the drag of his hips.

“Every time you flirted with them—every time you laughed in my face—this is what I thought about,” he hissed, fucking into you like he was chasing your breath. “Fucking ruining you. So you’d never forget.”

You tried to speak. Tried to moan. But your body didn’t belong to you anymore—it belonged to him. To the rage behind his hands, the bruising grip on your hips, the unforgiving stretch inside you.

“You don’t get to make me feel small,” he spat, leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours. “Not anymore.”

You whimpered, eyes burning.

Because he wasn’t just inside you.

He was everywhere.

And it wasn’t even close to over.

“Look at me.”

Jeongin’s voice was sharp—clipped and low, like a command wrapped in a growl. His hand came up fast, grabbing your jaw and forcing your gaze to his, his cock still driving deep with every punishing thrust.

“Don’t fucking look away. You wanted to play with me? You watch me now.”

Your lips parted on a silent moan, eyes wide, glassy. His eyes were blazing—no trace of the boy you used to ruffle, the one you’d teased without consequence. This wasn’t him being bold.

This was him unhinged.

He spat, filthy and rough, and kissed you again—harder this time. All teeth and tongue, breath-stealing, possessive. He didn’t want your submission.

He wanted your surrender.

And you were giving it—more with every second.

“You don’t even know what to do with me, do you?” he gritted out against your mouth, hips snapping faster, angrier. “Not so smug now. Can’t say a fucking word.”

He slammed in deep again, holding there, grinding hard enough to make you whimper—and it only made him grin.

“That’s what I thought.”

Your body twitched, hands scrabbling for balance—but he wasn’t done.

He released your jaw only to catch both wrists and pin them above your head with one hand. The other snuck down between you, sliding across your swollen clit with brutal accuracy.

You jerked.

“Yeah,” he said, watching your face fall apart. “There she is. My little bratty tease, all cock-drunk and helpless.”

You cried out. And he loved it.

He rubbed fast, relentless—your clit throbbing under his touch as he kept fucking you through every twitch, every shake, every broken moan.

“You gonna cum for me again?” he taunted, eyes gleaming. “Gonna scream for the guy you thought was harmless?”

Your back arched hard, heat rising too fast, too sharp, too deep.

“F-Fuck—Jeongin—!”

He leaned down, breath hot at your ear.

“Say it louder.”

You did.

Loud enough for the walls to hear.

Loud enough for the shame to hit later.

But in the moment? All that existed was him—his cock, his hands, his voice dragging you to pieces.

And then it hit.

Another orgasm, blinding, brutal—ripping through you like fire.

You clenched down around him so hard he groaned, thrust stuttering as your body convulsed beneath him.

“There it is,” he hissed, burying himself deeper. “Fucking knew I could break you.”

But he didn’t stop. He kept going.

Even after your body went limp.

Even after you sobbed out a half-choked plea.

“P-Please,” you gasped. “I c-can’t—Jeongin—please, I—”

His thrusts faltered. That was the first crack.

Not your begging—but the sound of your voice when you said his name like it meant something again.

Like you were scared he’d gone too far.

And maybe, deep down, he was too.

But he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t pull out right away.

Just froze there inside you, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his jaw to your throat.

You could feel it then—the shift.

The rage settling.

The silence flooding back in.

He looked down at you, red-faced, tear-streaked, trembling beneath him—and something in his eyes flickered.

Not regret. Not guilt. Just awareness.

He let go of your wrists. Pulled out slowly. Sat back on his heels with a quiet exhale, rubbing his hands down his face like he was trying to ground himself.

Neither of you spoke.

Not yet.

The only sounds were your hitched breathing and the faint tremble in your thighs as the overstimulation ebbed into dull, throbbing heat.

And then—

“…I’m sorry,” you whispered.

His gaze snapped to you.

“I didn’t mean to…” You swallowed, hard. “Didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough.”

Jeongin scoffed softly. “You didn’t make me feel anything. I just stopped letting you ignore it.”

You nodded. Slow. Shaky.

“I won’t call you cute again,” you said, voice thin.

“Good,” he muttered. “’Cause next time you do…”

His eyes dropped to your body—wrecked, marked, dripping.

“…You’ll get this all over again.”

And God help you, the worst part was—

You wanted it.

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Authors note: And thats it for the maknae 🥹❤️ dont forget to like and follow and comment!!! Reblog too lol. I say this everyday. Look out for the other members series

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @sagestarlight @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr

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