#nct nct 127 nctsmut nctsmutfic smut fanfic mature nctimagine

[werejusttouchingeachother]

Date Night

Req:  i was wondering if you could do a smut w nct’s jaehyun. really fluffy and preferably sub jae w mommy reader? 

Words: 1742

Genre: smut (m)

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader

A/N: I have no excuses for the title honestly this has got to be the shittiest title I have ever given anything I have ever written but it’s late and I can’t think of anything better that won’t require me to edit and add more dialogues but whatever anyway, to the anon that requested this, thank you for sending this in and let me know what you think! I apologise if the fluff is cringy and weird, this is my first time writing fluff, hence the looooong delay (i rewrote this a million times and I’m still not satisfied ahh) but I hope you like it 💕

The sun has long set when Jaehyun pulls up the car to the back of the dormitory, slowly parking it at the secluded driveway that was reserved only for the members and managers.

The two of you sit in silence, his hand clasped around yours over your thighs, thumb tracing slow soothing circles onto the back of your palm.

Both of your gazes are fixed on the time shown in green right near the digits of the radio station that was playing faintly in the car. You couldn’t help but feel a lump in your throat as Jaehyun tightened his grip on your hand when he noticed where your eyes were, not making a move to let go.

It was always like this—in fact, it had happened often enough that you should be used to it by now—the heavy feeling pressing down on both of your chests as you sat in this same car every night after spending time together, trying to prolong the moments until you had to part.

Dating an idol was never easy and it probably never will be—you knew this when you first said yes to Yoonoh when he had asked you out.

But now as you watched him give you a small forced smile that didn’t meet his sad puppy-eyes which were already working their spell on you and keeping you rooted to your seat, it was difficult to regret saying that ‘yes’. And as you raised your hand to place it gingerly on his cheek, you felt your heart melt into a puddle as he leaned into your touch, dimples finally coming out as he smiled more genuinely.

How could you resist that contagious smile, never mind regret being the cause of it?

“Yoonoh,” you say his name in a hushed whisper, the word falling from your lips like a dark secret that was meant only for his ears. He closes his eyes upon hearing it, and you know he’s cherishing the sound of his real name, the way that only you could make it sound endearing and melt him in an effect akin to that his smile had on you.

You’d decided that you’d only ever call him by that name when you saw the way that he was slightly taken aback at you mentioning it during your first date, the tips of his ears reddening as he stumbled over his words.

He wasn’t the nation’s perfect boyfriend, NCT Jung Jaehyun when with you.

No, with you, he was Jung Yoonoh, the dorky man who sent you videos of him singing 'Baby Shark’ in a chipmunk voice using the Snapchat bunny filter with captions like “will you still love me if I sounded annoying like this?” at one in the morning after a late schedule, followed by more squeaky bunny videos of him whining when you chided at him to sleep and get some rest.

You force the next words out of your mouth, mentally preparing yourself for negative responses so that you could spare yourself from the disappointment as you ask, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Yoonoh’s face slightly falls as a soft sigh escapes his lips, hand clasping yours and lowering it to his lap so that he could intertwine his long fingers with yours.

“I have practice,” he mumbled softly, the regret already tinting his tone as he continues, “There’s some meeting around noon about our upcoming schedules for the winter showcase and then… yeah. More practice.”

This was another thing you were supposed to be used to now but no amount of mental prepping would even help to lessen the disappointment when you hear about yet another busy day that he has planned out, one that you had no part of.

Reading the expression on your face, Yoonoh’s hand grips yours tighter to get your attention.

“Hey,” he says softly, his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Don’t worry. You can come here at night or… I’ll come to your place. Or—”

"Yoonoh,” you say, smiling as you press your lips to the back of his fingers lightly. “It’s fine. You need to rest more. I’ll just see you when I see you.”

He pouted at this, plush lip sticking out. “But I want to see you. I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” you whisper, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

Yoonoh searches your eyes for a moment before leaning forward. You meet him halfway, placing your lips gently on his over the gearshift. His hand snakes around the nape of your neck, holding you firmly as he deepens the kiss, mouth moving against yours. A soft whimper sounds in your throat as he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, the action causing sparks to fly over all your nerves.

You wrap both your arms over his broad shoulders, pressing as much of your torso against his as you could with the gear in between you two as you lick his lower lip for entrance.

Yoonoh immediately relents, his own tongue finding its way in between your parted lips. Your body is quick to respond to every move he makes, warming beneath his fingers as you arch into him. His hands grab your hips and you pull away from his mouth with a gasp as you breathe heavily, “Yoonoh-ah, we can’t, someone could—”  

“Its okay, it’s dark here, no one will see us,” he assures you quickly, already trying to help you up. You don’t put up much of a fight, climbing over the gearshift and settling down on his lap in such a way that you skirt is splayed around your thighs that are straddling his legs.

Yoonoh’s hands immediately rest on your exposed thighs, his fingers feeling cool against you skin as you press yourself completely against him. You kiss him heatedly, hair falling around both your faces like a curtain.

His expensive perfume that you were addicted to and his natural musky odour enveloped your senses as you slightly shifted on his lap, feeling his hardness right against your clothed core. Yoonoh groaned lowly, fingers digging into your thighs as you grinded against him slowly. You moved your hips up and down in an almost torturous sensual dance, teasing both of you slowly until he was panting against your mouth.

“Babe,” he sighed and you pulled away from his lips, eyes meeting his wide ones. You cocked your head to the side, pulling your hair over your shoulder as your fingers worked on unzipping the fly of his jeans and pulling him free from the restraints of his clothes. You began riding him then, your panty dampening with both of your wetness and sticking to your folds such that you could move your clit against his length perfectly, the sparks of pleasure causing you to bite your lip to not moan out loud.

Yoonoh’s pupils were dilated as he gazed up at you, watching you ride him like you were the most beautiful sight that he’d ever seen. He recognised the look in your eyes, hands coming up from your thighs to rest firmly on your hips as you moved them over his bare erection.

You placed your hands on his shoulders as you started moving slower, breathing heavily with every torturously slow brush of your clit against him.  

Yoonoh makes a whimpering sound of protest and you lean forward, latching your mouth onto his neck.

“What is it, baby boy?” You mutter and smirk as you feel his dick immediately twitch beneath you at the name, his favourite words falling from your mouth and echoing in the car, the words that always lead to his undoing.

You suck on the soft skin at his throat, kissing and nipping at it while moving your hips slowly until you feel his fingers digging almost painfully into your sides, hard enough to bruise.

“Use your words, baby,” you whisper in his ear, tongue licking a stripe right below it before taking the soft earlobe into your mouth.

“Let me cum,” Yoonoh breathes heavily, his voice thick with the most beautiful mix of desire and desperation. “Mommy, please.”

You smile in victory at the words that you’d been waiting for, raising your head to meet his eyes as you press your hands harder on his shoulders for support, almost pinning him back to the seat as you finally move your hips faster. Both of you exhale in sweet relief at the quick pace as you start grinding harder against him, the soft and wet fabric of your panty sticking to your folds and rubbing you just right with your movements, the friction causing your chest to heave with short breaths as the pleasure grows higher.

“Faster, mommy,” Yoonoh begs and you comply, grinding on him as quickly as you can, ignoring the dull ache in your thighs. He grabs your hips in impatience and you feel him slightly raising himself as he thrusts into you, helping you ride him harder.

It doesn’t take long until he falls apart, your hips moving swiftly as you feel him jerk beneath you, soaking your panties with his warm cum. His head falls back on the headrest as you continue moving, hitting your own orgasm a few seconds after his and Yoonoh is still cumming when you do.

The windows of the car are fogged up, both your bodies feeling entirely too warm and flushed in the air-conditioned car as you lean back against the dashboard, brushing back the hair that was matted to your sweaty forehead.

You meet Yoonoh’s eyes that were already focused on you, his cheeks tinted pink and lips swollen. His hands come around your sides suddenly, placing them flat on the dashboard as he leans forward and kisses you sweetly.

You relax into the kiss, shifting on his lap and then freeze immediately, remembering how you’re basically sopping. Yoonoh opens his eyes and you pull away, trying not to move much as you say, “Don’t stain your pants, all the guys are at the dorm and they’ll never let you hear the end of it. I let you mess up my skirt for a reason, Jung Yoonoh.”

He smiled cheekily. “You should have just let me finish inside you then rather than playing hard-to-get and being a tease.”

You kiss him then, grinning at his words as you promise, “Tomorrow night, baby boy. Same time, same place. I’ll even skip the panty for you.”

[werejusttouchingeachother]

Ruined

Req: Can I request model Johnny with photographer reader, and things become unprofessional...😉

Words: 6087

Genre: smut (m)

Pairing: Johnny x reader

A/N: 🥰 anon, thank you for this absolutely delicious request cause I had way too much fun with it

“What’d you say his name was again?” You mumble distractedly to your assistant, Jaemin who stood beside you and adjusted the reflectors. “Suh?”

“Yeah, Suh,” Jaemin nodded. “Johnny Suh. You’ve probably seen him, he was on the cover of Vogue last month. You passed it up because of that Fashion Week at Vienna, remember?”

You paused in your ministrations, glancing at Jaemin. “Johnny Suh? Isn’t he from the same agency as that other guy? The hot one?”

“… We photograph models, Y/N, they’re all hot, it’s kind of their job.”

You glared at the younger boy and started to retort when the door opened behind him, a tall man walking in.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes raking over his frame, frowning slightly as he looked familiar. “I remember now. The hot one was Jung something.”

“Jung Jaehyun,” Jaemin responded, nodding as he moved the tripod, still not noticing that someone had walked in. “Grazia. Or was it Marie Claire?” He shook his head, looking up at you and still not aware despite you slightly shaking your head in a gesture to get him to stop talking as Johnny walked closer, “Do you remember telling me that he was the hottest guy you ever saw though? And that you were pretty sure the agency created him in a lab or some—”

“It’s true,” Johnny cut in and Jaemin finally shut up as he turned quickly, eyes wide as the model grinned down at him. “Jae was made in the lab right after they made me. They were hoping he’d turn out as well as me, but stopped when he didn’t.” He looked at me then, cocking his head. “Don’t you agree?”

You blinked, stammering, “Don’t I—what?”

“Aren’t I hotter than Jaehyun?”

Jaemin stepped away from between you two and you felt your face flush as Johnny moves forward with a raised eyebrow. You open your mouth to answer—you’re not sure what exactly—but stop as the stylists call out his name loudly.

He smirks at you and turns, walking to the crew to get changed into his outfit. You breathe a sigh of relief, glaring at Jaemin whose chuckling you immediately stop by smacking his arm. You lower your camera to the table and walk to the table at the corner where you’d kept your phone and bag.

You’re scrolling through your messages with Mr. HaeByun, the manager of an online fashion store who had booked you for an advertisement shoot next week. An unread message that he’d sent over an hour ago asking to call him as soon as you could had you frowning, wondering what was wrong when you felt a presence loom over you.

You looked up to see Johnny towering over you, dark eyes trained on you. You blinked up at him, realising that he’d changed faster than you’d expected.

The shoot for today was for the upcoming fall-winter collection and of course, that meant oversized sweaters and long jackets that have never appeared as beautiful by themselves as they do on Johnny’s tall frame.

He stood in front of you now with a burgundy-coloured trench coat over a black turtle-neck sweater and jeans. The colour complimented him perfectly, drawing attention to the softest tint of blush on his cheeks and the subtle pink shade over his eyelids. His hair was styled perfectly to a side too and you mentally make a note to thank the stylists later for not covering his forehead.

You don’t know what exactly it is but something about him strikes you as oddly familiar. As if you’d worked with him before or seen him before—not on a magazine or screen, though—and it irks you because you can’t quite put your finger on it.

“Y/N, right?” Johnny said, holding out his hand to you.

You nod, placing your phone on the table to take his hand in yours. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Suh.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, a small amused smile coming over his face. “Meet, huh?”

You frown in confusion. “Pardon?”

“It’s not our first time meeting, Y/N.”

You blink at him and start to ask what he means when he suddenly tugs on your hand that he’s holding, causing you to stumble forward into his arms. You gasp as you look up at him, feeling smaller than you’ve ever felt in your entire life as his chin could rest on top of your head because of the height difference.

Your eyes are wide as you gape at him and his voice is lower, huskier as he murmurs, “You didn’t call me Mr. Suh either.”

What the hell?

You’re ready to say something about being unprofessional when Johnny mumbles, “Last May. Elle had that party to kickoff their summer-spring collection. Remember?”

Your eyes search his frantically as if they held the screen to whatever memories he was telling. The words set off a faint recollection in you—bright lilies and hyacinths arrangements placed atop teak tables with marble plates, an over-the-top garden party that you’d immediately regretted attending without your camera because the décor had been so expensive, so fancy, so gorgeous.

“You’d been invited as a guest,” Johnny confirms your thought about the regret and you don’t realise his other hand had crept around your waist, holding you to him when you had stumbled.

“You’d had a few too many tequilas…,” he continued slowly, trying to trigger your apparently drunken memories. “I found you near the water fountain at the back. You were alone and… you ripped my shirt.”

“It was Gucci,” he said, biting back a smirk as he looked down at you, crossing his arms. “You were swaying, about to fall and I had already grabbed your arm, but you clutched onto the front of my shirt—my pocket, in fact—and ripped it off.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped in horror, moving away from him with your hands covering your mouth in shock.

“You’re kidding me, please tell me you’re kidding.”

You were stunned, listening to him silently as Johnny says, “I’d looked down at my chest and said, ‘You have a hell of a grip there,’ and you’d responded with, ‘Well, you’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen so you wanna—”

“—know what else I can grip?” you completed in unison, cringing into yourself as you closed your eyes tightly, clutching the table near you to hold yourself up from the embarrassment.

It all came crashing to you like an unpleasant unexpected avalanche—how you’d woken up late in the evening, around eight or nine, in a fancy apartment that was quite far from the garden party with zero recollection whatsoever of any events that had happened after the light lunch you’d had because of all the drinks you’d been having. Not remembering how you got there, you had to catch a taxi home but only after you called Jaemin to ask where your camera was and he’d reassured you that you hadn’t taken it to the party.

“You—it was—oh god,” you stammer, your head suddenly throbbing with all the flashbacks as you looked at Johnny who was staring at you as if your face was the most interesting sight on the planet. “It was your apartment?”

He nodded, raising an eyebrow. “I couldn’t go back to the party with my chest all exposed, thanks to your mighty grip—”

You blanched and he grinned, continuing, “—and you were too drunk to tell me where your place was so I just took you back to mine. I left you a note, didn’t you see it?” At your blank expression, he nods, “I thought not. It was under the bed when I got back, must have flown away. I had an interview that evening so I had to leave, otherwise I would have stayed. Sorry about that.”

“I’m…,” you swallowed, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. “Its fine, I should be the one apologising.” You look up at him then despite how loudly your head was screaming at you to run. “I’m sorry about ripping your shirt and… everything else that followed that I don’t remember. I don’t usually get that crazy when I drink, I honestly don’t know why—”

“Y/N!” You heard Jaemin yell your name and turned around to see him and Johnny’s manager glaring over at the two of you. “We’re ready, come on!”

You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding and Johnny chuckles, patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“We’ll talk later,” he reassured you, adjusting his jacket. “Hey, wasn’t your shoot with Jae way before that spring party?”

You blinked in confusion, not understanding his question as you went, “Jung Jaehyun? Uh, yeah, that was around February, I think.”

He nodded. “I’ll let him know he’s been renounced of his ‘hottest guy’ position.”

“Wh—?” You gape at him as he struts past you to the white screen, posing in front of it while you walked slowly in a daze to Jaemin.

“What’s going on, why you all hugsy with the model?” He inquires, raising an eyebrow. “Do you guys know each—?”

“Remember the Elle spring party that I went for in May?” You interrupted him lowly, glancing around for your camera. Jaemin rolls his eyes and points to the table at the back where you’d forgotten it and you grab his sleeve, tugging him with you as you slowly walk to it.

“Yeah, what about it?” Jaemin mutters, frowning as you grab your camera and adjust the lens.

“Remember I called you late in the night for my camera?”

He nodded. “Yeah, you were freaking out at some random apartment.”

“Yeah, well, apparently that was Johnny’s apartment.”    

“What the fuck?” Jaemin screeched so loud that the chatter died down on the other side of the room to momentarily look at the two of you. You glared at Jaemin and he apologised, mumbling, “Seriously? Are you sure? Maybe he was joking?”

“No, he wasn’t.” You shook your head, wishing the ground would swallow you up whole as the shame crept up your skin again. “I… I remember it in bits and pieces now. I ripped his shirt? And I remember him smiling and smirking at me.”

“God.” Jaemin glances at Johnny in disbelief and quickly masks his expression when the manager glares at the two of you. He grabs your arm and begins pulling you back to where they’re waiting for you and you hear his breath hitch suddenly as he asks, “Wait. Does that mean you had sex with Johnny?”

OhmygOD.

Your grip falters on the camera and you feel your heart jump to your throat in absolute terror as Jaemin leaps right at that instant, grabbing the camera with both his hands before it could slip from yours.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N,” He hisses at you, gripping your hands tightly over the camera. “That’s both our jobs in your hands, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break it.”

“Are you serious?” You ignore him, readjusting it in your hands as your wide eyes blink at him. “Why would you say that, what makes you say that, why would you even think—?”

“It’s a possibility, Y/N,” he replies, rolling his eyes as he lets go of the camera. “Think about it. You were drunk. He’s hot, you’re hot. You were wearing that slutty dress for the party, right, the one with the high slit up the leg? You probably hit on him or he hit on you. Either way, you woke up at his apartment, alone. Were you wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes grow wider as you look away, your mind racing as you recalled finding the fancy dress that you’d worn on the polished tiled floor in the unknown apartment.

“No.” Your heart is racing now as you gape at Johnny who cocks his head at you playfully. “No, I wasn’t.”

Jaemin snorts. “Yeah, you definitely fucked—”

“Ms. Y/N!” The two of you freeze as Johnny’s manager stomps towards you. You have to force yourself to focus on the words spilling from his angry mouth as he yells, “I don’t know if you have all the time in the world to be strolling around the studio so leisurely but we are on a tight schedule here so if you could just—”

“We’re ready,” you deadpanned, turning to Jaemin. “Get the lights and music, please.”

The manager scowls at you before backing away. You clear your throat, pulling on a poker expression as you hear the fast-paced beats fill the room, bright lights hitting Johnny where he was standing. You nodded at Jaemin who looked over at you with a concerned expression—which you purposefully ignored—before crouching and raising the camera to your face.

You clicked away quickly, Johnny changing poses with every ‘click’ and you were thankful that they were coming out well, without you having to suggest to him to relax his shoulders or raise his head or move his hair or touch his neck.

No, you didn’t have to because Johnny was professional with the intense gaze, the slight lilt in his lips, the cocky raise of his eyebrow and all of it reminded you of that afternoon at the party now.

You remember it now—snapshots flitting across you brain as quickly as the ones you were clicking. You can recall the white marble fountain with the mermaid sculpture at the centre that seemed to be spitting water, you remember the tall handsome man with his furrowed eyebrows as they looked at you in concern and you can even recall the tan of his chest, his left nipple where you’d ripped the shirt pocket right down with your hand, a strip of Gucci clutched in your palm.

You swallowed thickly as you lowered your camera, clearing your throat.

“Next outfit,” you announced loudly and stood up.  

Johnny shoots you his signature smirk, stepping away from the white screen. You stare at him, from his head all the way down to his feet, wracking your brain as you try to recall something, anything. 

Surely I'd remember that body... right? 

"Johnny," you call out when he reaches you as he was making his way to the back of the room to change. 

"Yes, Y/N?" His voice is teasing and flirty enough that you can feel yourself blushing again. 

God, I can't remember shit, how the hell do I not remember us having sex? 

"Did you, uh." You falter, hesitating. "Did we...?"

You trail off and Johnny crosses his arms then, turning completely towards you with his eyes twinkling mischievously.

He knows. He knows exactly what you're thinking and what you're rambling about and what's driving you crazy with suspense but won't say a word because he's a little shit who needs to hear you say it. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" You finally ask, meeting his eyes. His shoulder slumps at the words, as if they're not what he expected and you're thankful to your brain for the quick change in thought as you prod further, "Why didn't you reach out to me? It would have been easy to get my number, since you're a model and all. I would have apologised properly and paid for the shirt." 

"Actually, I left my number for you on that note," he admits wryly. "But you didn't take it so I assumed you were too embarrassed and had just ran out. Besides, I left the country the next day itself, I had a show at London for a month or so."

You open your mouth to reply but stop as he steps closer, the front of his crossed arms brushing against you slightly. His eyes search your blank face as he says, "You don't remember anything... do you?" 

Your silence suffices as a response and Johnny's eyes darken as he lowers his head so that his mouth was near your ear when he mutters, "Well, in that case, let me remind you that you don't have to worry about the shirt cause trust me, you compensated for it plenty." 

Your eyes are wide as Johnny walks away from you then, leaving your stunned self behind. You only snap out of your daze when you hear the familiar shutter click and turn to see Jaemin at your side, holding up the camera. 

"Sorry," he mutters, not seeming apologetic in the slightest. "But your expression was literal gold. What'd he say? Did y'all fuck or nah?”

“I’m—” You take a deep breath, trying to regain composure. “I’m pretty sure we did. I cannot believe this absolute shitstorm, god, I need to sit down—”

“We’re ready!” You hear the manager’s voice call out as Johnny strides out in a white faux fur jacket this time over ripped blue jeans, his hair falling over his forehead. His gaze catches yours and you feel your mouth dry as Jaemin whistles lowly beside you, handing the camera back to you.

“Look, Y/N,” He teases, grinning as he gestures discreetly to Johnny. “It’s a boyfriend look this time.”

“Shut the fuck up and get the lights before I fire you,” you threaten him, adjusting the lens again and clearing your throat as he walks to the screen.

Your mind is a blank daze for the rest of the shoot as you focus on clicking perfect shots that would get this shoot over with, the faster the better. Johnny keeps his eyes on you throughout this outfit—to the extent that you have to ask him to look away from the camera so that you could get his side-profile.

He changes into three more outfits before they finally call an end to it. Johnny and his crew leave the room and head to the back to change, finally giving you space to breathe as the room clears out. You go through the pictures absentmindedly and Jaemin approaches you slowly.

“Hey,” he says, cautiously as if you were a time bomb ready to explode if he triggered you in the slightest. “You okay?”

“Mhm, fantastic,” you deadpan, pressing your lips into a thin line as you flit through all the shots. “Just wondering if this is how amnesia feels. Also, I’m never drinking again.”

You glance at Jaemin then to see him suppressing a laugh, which in turn, makes you glare at him. He pats your shoulder then, opening his mouth to say something in comfort that you already knew would only infuriate you more rather than reassure you when you hear a familiar deep voice call your name behind you.

You turn, dread and embarrassment kicking in again as you force yourself to smile and say, “The photos will be ready tomorrow, I’ll send them directly to your manager and the magazine. He has my card so if there is anything he needs, he can just—”

“Right, right, sure, that’s all fine,” Johnny nods, glancing at Jaemin briefly before looking at you again. “I needed a favour actually.”

Oh god.

“Do you have more shoots after this?” he asks. “Or any plans, for that matter?”

You turn to Jaemin with wide eyes and he immediately quips, “No, actually, I’m in charge of her schedule and it’s completely clear after this.”

Fired, fired, I need a new assistant cause he’s fired.

“Great,” Johnny grins, eyes flashing at you. “I wanted some photos for my social media. I can’t use the ones with the outfits or for the magazine until they release it so could you take a few of me now?”

You nod slowly, feeling exhausted at all the rush of emotions coursing through you as you nudge Jaemin. “Sure. Get the lights.”

“Oh, no, no,” Johnny held up his hands, stopping Jaemin. “I don’t need fancy lights or anything, it’s just for Twitter and Instagram.” He looked at you then, his expression slightly shifting. “Just you and your camera is fine, really.”

You blink, wondering if you’d heard him right and notice Jaemin grin wolfishly from your peripheral.

“Well!” Jaemin could not sound more cheerful and you have never wanted to murder him as much as you did just then. “I’ll call it a day, then, Y/N. See you tomorrow. Have fun, kids.”

You turn at that last bit, hand already reaching out to hit him and Jaemin jumps away, predicting it as he laughs and quickly leaves the room. You want to call out for him, beg him to stay but the door is already closing, Johnny’s staring and smirking at you again, and you’re trapped.

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your camera tightly to your chest. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Busy?”

“Aren’t you?” You retort. “Your manager was yelling earlier about a tight schedule?”

“Nah, he is,” Johnny shrugged, crossing his arms as he smiled at you. “I have all the time in the world, Y/N.”

“Right,” you mutter, looking away and pointing to a side of the room where the lights hit perfectly. “How about there?”

Johnny nods as he moves to where you gesture and poses. You crouch a bit and he hesitates before saying, “Uh, close-ups will be good.”

You straighten then, holding the camera to your face. He’s wearing his own clothes now—a white collared shirt tucked into fancy black pants with a black tie that hung wonkily off his neck. He stares at you in an expression that you’re certain is meant for you and not the camera. You huff in frustration, lowering the camera and start to ask what his problem is when Johnny says, “You can relax, you know? I was just teasing. Nothing you think happened.”

You stop at that, furrowing your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“The party,” he clarified. “We hit on each other. You felt me up a bit, I maaay have reciprocated and kissed you a little but that’s about it. You were really drunk and I wasn’t going to take advantage of that, Y/N. Besides, you passed out as soon as we got to my apartment.”

You stare at him in silence, feeling your entire body flush as the words he’d just said slowly registered in your head. You take a deep breath and raise the camera again, clicking a candid. Johnny frowns at your lack of response before quickly raising his hand to his hair and posing.

You click about seven pictures before he tells you to come closer to take a final pic which was him doing cutesy ‘aegyo’.

You suggested taking this one on his phone so that he could post it as his story—maybe a teaser for more pictures—and he agrees, handing his phone to you. You place your camera aside and take his phone, selecting a flattering filter before muttering a count and pausing as he raises both his hands in peace-signs, closing his eyes and pouting slightly.

God, he’s so fucking hot and cute at the same time, how is he human?

Johnny opens one eye and you’re almost ready to swoon when he says, “Did you take it?”

“Uh, no, close your eyes,” you quickly stammer and press the button to take a boomerang of him doing the aegyo pose. You lower the phone when you’re done, smiling at the screen as it plays in loop.

Johnny’s standing beside you as he looks at the picture over your shoulder. Noticing the fond expression on your face, he mumbles, “What?’

“This is really cute,” you admit honestly, raising your head to smile up at him. He’s standing as close as he was when he held you about an hour ago and told you about your little drunken encounter.

“Thanks for telling me,” you say, and from the way his eyes soften, you can tell that he immediately understands what you mean. “And thanks for taking me back to your place before I made a fool of myself at the party that literally had a majority of my top-clients.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, his low voice causing your stomach to clench.

“And um,” you hesitate before glancing down at his phone again, unable to maintain eye contact as you rush through the words. “Thanks for not… yeah. It’s bad enough that I don’t remember the kiss.”

You feel Johnny freeze at that, not expecting your words. You focus on his pouty lips on the phone screen, cursing yourself and the stupid tequila when you feel a gentle grip on your arm.

“Hey,” Johnny’s voice is soft and sultry as he turns you around, taking the phone from your hand and placing it atop your camera on the desk before gazing at you. “I could always remind you.”

It takes a minute for you to understand what he means and before it can even process, Johnny’s lifting your chin with his hand, lowering his head to meet yours in a gentle kiss.

You’re frozen at the spot where you stand, eyes wide as his lips move against yours. It feels familiar and soft and lush and oh-so-good. If this were a movie, you’re certain that the drunken memories of your first kiss would have hit you right at that instant but as Johnny kisses you, all you can think of is him, his mouth on yours, right now.

And so you give in.

You raise your hands to his tie, tugging it to pull him down to your height as you deepen the kiss. You feel Johnny smile at your responsiveness, arms slowly circling your waist until you're melting in his warmth.

He nudges you back onto the desk, pressing you against its edge and your hand flails behind slowly, a mild panic surfacing as you pull away from his mouth to mutter, "Camera, camera."

Johnny pulls away immediately, eyes widening as he quickly grabs your hips and pulls you to him before you could knock over the camera and his phone off the table. "Shit, sorry."

You turn his head to the right where he could see the plush leather couch at the corner and press your lips to his cheek as you mumble, "Couch."

He grins, pulling you up quickly so that your legs wrap around his waist reflexively. He hoists you in his arms until your head is finally a few inches over his.

You smile giddily as you cup his face with both your hands, tracing his lower lip with your tongue for entrance. He readily grants it as he carries you to the couch and as your tongue wrestles with his for dominance, he sits you down on the leather armrest of the couch.

Placing his hands on the leather on either side of your hips to hold himself up, you trace his sharp jawline with your fingers as you explore his mouth. You're still shorter than him despite sitting on a high armrest and you use the position to your advantage, letting your hands trail down leisurely from his neck to his chest.

You lower them further to the soft material of his pants, moaning involuntarily as you feel the hardness beneath. Johnny smirks against your mouth, pulling away to mutter, “You’re right, you have a hell of a grip.”

You can’t help but laugh as you pull away then, giving him a mischievous smirk as you tease, “Please, you’ve seen nothing yet.” You grab his hand and straighten from the couch, quickly turning him around so that he was sitting on the armrest now. Your fingers deftly work their way down his shirt, pulling the tie off his neck and unbuttoning the shirt. Tugging it over his shoulders, you don’t even remove it from his arms as your hands hungrily roam his bare torso, relishing in the warmth as your mouth busies itself by sucking and licking at his neck.

Johnny’s head is tossed back as he lets you ravish his throat, nipping at his Adam’s apple and you’re sucking on his collar bone when he suddenly jolts, grabbing your forearms and stopping you.

“No hickies,” he says quickly, seeming apologetic and panicked at the time. “Model, remember?”

You pause in your ministrations before shrugging as you slowly lowered yourself to the floor, keeping your eyes on him while your hands began pulling his pants off. “That’s fine. There’s other places that would look pretty with hickies.”

Johnny furrows his eyebrows at you, eyes widening as you toss the pants aside along with his underwear and kiss your way up his thighs. You hear him curse as you lick the precum leaking from his tip, slowly stroking his impressive length with your tongue. His hands find their way into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp as he holds you closer to him. You circle your tongue around the tip teasingly, wanting to rile him up while your hand moves leisurely up and down. And as you do so, you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to take all of him, because as much as you want him, he was bigger than anyone you’d ever been with.

“Don’t be a fucking tease, Y/N,” Johnny finally growls, having had enough and his deep bossy tone as he wraps one hand around his own length and forcefully pushes it past your wet lips has you moaning in pleasure. He groans as soon as he feels the warm wet cavern of your mouth envelop him. You use your hands to stroke the rest of him that isn’t in your mouth and Johnny gives you a second to adjust before he grabs the back of your head with both hands, pushing more into you.

You gag slightly, tears springing to your eyes as you try to relax your jaw and take in more of him. The head of his erection hits the back of your throat and you choke as he fucks your mouth, pushing as much of him into you as possible. Your knees dig into the cold floor, a slight ache in your lower jaw as you focus on giving him the best suck of his life, tongue circling around him as he thrusts in and out of your mouth.

Johnny twitches inside and you hollow your cheeks, sucking him deeper until he’s moaning and his nails are painfully digging into your head. He gasps as he grabs the sides of your head, pulling you off of him forcefully. A loud ‘pop’ sound echoes as his dick leaves your mouth, a trail of saliva hanging between your lips and his erection as you gaze in a confused haze at him, head spinning slightly.

Your hand reaches out to take him again, desperate to taste and swallow his essence but he takes your hands and pulls you off the floor roughly, shaking his head.

His mouth meets yours heatedly, a soft moan as he tastes himself on your glistening lips. Throwing his shirt off his arms, he pushes you back until you fall back on the couch. His hands work quickly in pulling your blouse off, fingers crawling down your pants hurriedly without even taking it off. They slip easily inside your panties, feeling your slick opening.

“Fuck,” Johnny breathes, eyes widening at you as you lay back on the couch in your bra and pants with his one hand down your underwear. You spread your legs further and Johnny has settled himself in between your thighs, looking at you with an expression akin to awe as he feels your wetness, two long fingers curling inside your slick walls.

You moan, arching off the couch as his knuckles presses against the spot that has white spots blinding your vision and your stomach clenching. His one hand quickly comes around to your raised back and unclasps your bra, flinging it aside.

He buries his face in your chest, lips latching onto your erect nipple and you gasp at the pleasure that courses through your veins from the multiple stimulations that he’s giving you. Johnny struggles to pull your pants down your legs while on top of you but manages it in his haste, nearly ripping it off your ankles. You moan as you feel him tease you up and down your slit, coating his erection with your dripping arousal.

You hear the chorus of your heavy breaths, Johnny’s broad chest pressing against yours and you can’t help but gasp as he enters you, thick length sliding inside your pussy easily and stretching you out.

Johnny looks so big above you, feels so big inside you and you're vaguely aware that his feet are probably sticking out since he could hardly fit in your couch.

His hair is no longer prim and proper—falling over his sweaty forehead in messy strands, face flushed from exertion and you were quite sure your own mouth had more of his lip tint right now than he did when he'd walked in.

You're breathing hard as he pushes himself into you and you feel like he's never ending, short gasps leaving your parted lips as you try to accommodate all of his length. Johnny presses reassuring kisses on your face, murmuring how good you're doing as you try to relax beneath him. You groan finally as you feel his pelvic bone brush against your clit.

Johnny's inside you completely, hilt buried balls-deep and your eyes are wide at how stretched and full you feel. His eyes watch your face carefully, asking silently how you're doing and you nod, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to feel him completely all over you.

Johnny slowly moves his hips back before thrusting inside again, huskily groaning, "God, you're so tight and wet."

You whimper as he starts thrusting slowly, the initial pain shifting into a pleasure that had you feeling lightheaded.

"Babe," Johnny pants, "you feel too good to not ruin, so I'm just going to—”

You cut him off with a sloppy kiss, warm mouths and wet tongues messily meeting as you mutter, "Go for it."

You didn't know what you were agreeing to—Johnny began thrusting into you at an almost animalistic pace, pounding you into the plush couch. He pressed his hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down as his hips snap into yours until you're screaming his name. Burying his face in your neck, he sucks on your collarbone as you feel your stomach clench with your impending orgasm.

"Johnny," you breathe, your hand raising to clutch the back of his head. “I'm going to—”

"Wait, baby, not yet," he says, thrusting into you rougher. Your chest heaves against his, back arching as you press up to him and you feel his hand lower itself to your clit, flicking it up and down.

Your head spins as you cum uncontrollably then, back arching off of the couch and toes curling at the pleasure coursing through all your nerves and setting them on fire. Your walls clench and convulse around him, triggering his own orgasm as he floods inside you. Your body trembles beneath his as he fills you up with spurts and spurts of his cum, held in by his cock that was still buried inside you.

Both of you are gasping, trying to catch your breath from the intense orgasm as you fall back into the couch and Johnny collapses on top of you. Your bodies are warm and sweaty, his cock slowly softening inside you and you can feel the leather of the couch sticking to your back with your sweat.

He sits up slightly, smiling as his eyes roam your face. Lifting a finger, he traces it down your eye and cheek, holding it up to you to show you a faint black liquid on the tip.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before your eyes widen as you realise that your makeup had smeared and Johnny was holding up the remnants of your mascara. You start to throw your hands up to your face and he immediately grabs your wrists, stopping you.

“Trust me,” Johnny chuckles, the sound reverberating between your bodies as it rumbles in his chest. “You’ve never looked prettier. I’ve been wanting to ruin your makeup since you ruined my shirt at that party.”

You wince as you move slightly, feeling the dull ache in your thighs and realised that Johnny had stuck to his word—you’re definitely going to have a hard time walking tomorrow.

You kiss him softly as you say, “Trust me, you’ve ruined more than just my makeup, Johnny.”