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uhhkpop · 2 months ago

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i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to fuck you | l.mk

“you are the girl that i’ve been dreaming of”

📀now playing: i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you by black kids

❯ summary: Asking your best friend to take your virginity because you have a crush on someone else and want experience is totally normal, right? Mark doesn’t think so. If he’s taking your virginity, it’s not for practice—it’s for him. He’s nobody’s wingman—especially not when it comes to you.

❯ pairings: mark x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends to lovers

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, corruption kink, loss of virginity, nipple play, fingering, hand jobs, praising, body worship, protected sex, back scratching, brief possessiveness, pet names, reader uses she/her pronouns, swearing, love confessions, just fluffy smut because it’s what i do best lol.

Mark swears he’s a good listener. Considering he’s been friends with Zhong Chenle for years, the world’s most dedicated yapper, he doesn’t really have a choice. He has to be a good listener. But Mark almost does a double take when he hears the words ‘my virginity’ and ‘you’ come out of your mouth.

His best friend. With the biggest, prettiest, most innocent eyes and sweet little mouth that could barely stammer through conversations about flirting—asking him about sex. No. Not just asking. Wanting him.

After nearly choking on his own spit, Mark tries to regain his composure—but fails miserably. Especially when your cheeks flush, and you start chewing on your bottom lip. It’s a crime. No, worse. It’s sin in human form. You’re sin in human form. Looking this cute, blushing like a maniac, like you didn’t just drop that question on him.

“You want me to take your virginity, Y/N?”

You cringe the second he repeats your question back to you. It sounded a lot better in your head—practical, reasonable, totally fine. But now, with his brows furrowed and that ‘are you insane?’ look on his face, you’re starting to think maybe you are insane.

But when you came up with this plan last night, none of that crossed your mind. All you knew was that Mark never says no to you. Ever. Not when you asked him to be your first kiss in middle school. Not when you made him take you to your first frat party. Not even when you guilt-tripped him into helping with your dissertation.

"Look, forget it—" you say, pushing to your feet, desperate to escape your shared living room that suddenly feels way too hot under Mark’s stare. "I totally crossed a line by asking. I’m sure I can find someone on Tinder—"

"No."

You blink. "No?"

Mark wants to curse himself for the hasty reply, but who could blame him? There’s just no way he’s letting you swipe right on some douche bag looking for a quick fuck—some guy who’ll take you to a lousy bar, probably make you pay for your own drinks, and then expect to take your virginity like it’s nothing.

It’s ridiculous. It’s not happening.

Not when you just handed him the opportunity on a silver platter.

“What I meant to say was,” Mark rubs the back of his neck, “Don’t you want to lose your virginity to someone you trust—someone you love?”

You nod without hesitation. “That’s why I asked you. There’s not a single man I trust more than you. And I love you—platonically, yeah, but it’s still love.”

Platonic.

If Mark could rip that word out of the dictionary, set it on fire, and launch the ashes into space, he would. Anything to stop you from thinking whatever he feels towards you is platonic. Was it platonic when he kissed you when you were eleven? No. Was it platonic when he drove ten miles just for your favourite snack on your birthday? No. Was it platonic when he worked on your final thesis at the same time as his own? No.

And if he’s going to be the first one to have you, it sure as hell won’t be platonic. That’s for damn sure.

His eyes squeeze shut as he sits forward, clammy hands rubbing up and down his jeans. "Okay, so you want me, your best friend, to take your virginity? Why?"

You chew your lip. This was the part of the scenario that kept you up at night—explaining why. How the hell are you supposed to tell someone you want them to take your virginity just so you can be ready for someone else? There’s no handbook, no online forum, for this kind of thing.

So you settle for:

“It’s stupid. A dumb reason. Don’t even worry about it. Will you do it or not?”

Mark gives you a knowing look, exactly like you knew he would. He’s one of those perspective fuckers, especially when it comes to you. Normally, you love it. Right now, not so much.

“Y/N,” he draws out your name, “What happened to me being one of the most trusted men you know? Tell me.”

You suck in a breath, trying to steady yourself. After all, it’s just Mark. Sweet, kind, nonjudgmental, Mark.

“I have a crush on my co-worker, Xiaojun,” you blurt out. Mark just blinks, completely still, like he’s trying to process. You, on the other hand, keep rambling. “And there’s rumours that he’s amazing in bed, and he asked me out for drinks this Friday, and I just feel really…unprepared.”

Mark feels his blood pressure spike—because fuck your co-worker, fuck those rumours and fuck that little date your planning to gone on this Friday night. Look, he’s not a prude or anything. Mark knows people fuck on a first date—but not you. At least not you with some asshole making you think you need to be prepared for him.

"If that asshole makes you feel less than just because you're a virgin, Y/N, he’s not worth your time."

You narrow your eyes. "I don’t think your opinion holds any weight here, considering you don’t think any guy is worth my time."

Mark relaxes slightly and smiles at that—because it’s true. No man deserves to talk to you, touch you, kiss you—no one but him.

“Besides,” you perk up again, trying to sound more confident. “This isn’t about what Xiaojun or any other guy thinks. This is about me… being comfortable having sex with someone that isn’t myself.” You chew your lower lip. “I want to be comfortable having sex with other men.”

Mark almost growls, a caveman-like urge pounding in his chest at the thought of you wanting to be comfortable with other men. He’s changed his mind. He’d take the word platonic any day over hearing other men leave your mouth.

“Let me get this straight—you want me to teach you how to fuck, to please other men?”

Your cheeks flush, not just because the idea sounds so ridiculous when he puts it like that, but because it’s the first time you've ever heard him talk like that. Mark is always so careful, so delicate with you, keeping his foul mouth and sex life locked away. But hearing the phrase "how to fuck" leave his mouth in that deep, husky drawl, sends a pulse right through you, straight to your clit.

You chew your lip again, hesitating. “I don’t know… I just wanna be good... at it… at sex.”

Mark’s head tilts back as he stares at the ceiling, a string of mumbled curses slipping out before his Adam’s apple starts bobbing against his throat. He pauses to think—and so do you. You can’t figure out why he’s interrogating you like this. The proposition is a lot, yes, but if you’d crossed a line and made him uncomfortable, he could’ve just said so, you wouldn’t have taken it personally. There’s no reason for him to poke and prod like this.

Just as you're about to squash this whole thing, Mark speaks again. He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, his brows furrowed like he's still deep in thought, but his eyes, dark and blown wide, pin you in place.

"I'll teach you, Y/N," he says, standing up slowly. "I'll fuck you if that's what you want and if that’s what you're asking me for," he continues, moving closer until he's right in your personal space. "But I won't fuck you just to get you ready for someone else."

"Mark—"

"No, Y/N, I’m talking," he cuts you off, his long, tantalizing finger tracing from your cheek down to your neck before he whispers, "I don’t mind teaching you how to be good at sex with me, angel, but I’m sure as fuck not teaching you how to be good at it for someone else. If I finally get to fuck you, I’m gonna teach you how to be good for me."

Your mouth parts in a soft gasp, just from his words and that innocent touch alone. Mark’s eyes track the movement, and his irises darken with something you can’t quite name—want, lust, need... you don’t know. All you know is that it’s fucking hot, and it almost makes you miss what he just said.

"Finally?" you breathe out.

The corner of Mark's mouth twitches into a smile, and a low, silky laugh slips from him. "Don't pretend like you don't know I want you." His finger slides to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re too fucking smart to be playing dumb with me, Y/N. You know you could have me on my knees if you just asked. I’d do anything if you just asked.”

You always knew you had Mark wrapped around your little finger, but you never realized it was because he wanted you the same way you’ve wanted him. Yes, you’d only asked him to help you with this plan because you know he struggles to say no to you; but a small, twisted part of you wanted Mark to be the one to take your virginity. Because he’s him—hot, lean, experienced, sweet, loyal Mark. Your Mark.

It’s all too much. His breath is too warm on your skin, his words too heated, his proximity too hot—he’s too hot. You whimper, and you watch as his pupils soften in response.

“Y/N,” he says softly now. “I need you to use your words to tell me what you want. If you don’t want to do this anymore—because, to me, it’s more than just practice—that’s fine. But if we do... this, us, it becomes real.”

Your mind goes fuzzy. Words? He thinks you have words after just confessing that this—that you—are something he wants? Almost like he senses your hesitation, he nuzzles deeper into your neck, his lips feather-light, dusting over your skin in a way that sets your nerves alight. It’s erotic, it’s intimate, it’s so damn sexy.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” His voice is soft, breath scorching against your skin, thumb grazing over your collarbone like he’s memorizing you. “I’ve imagined you—craved you—for years. If you want me to take your virginity, I’ll do it. Happily. But I’ll be your first and your last—not Xiaojun.”

The mention of your coworker feels irrelevant now—a distant, meaningless fantasy compared to this. The stupid office daydream you’d clung to seems laughable because the man you thought only saw you as a friend is standing right here, offering himself to you. Completely. Utterly asking to be yours. And who are you to deny him?

“I want this—”

Mark doesn’t waste another second, doesn’t let you finish your sentence—because he’s wasted too much damn time already. Too much time waiting, hoping, aching to hear you want him. Not just need him for something, but actually want him. Crave him. Desire him.

He has to kiss you. Now.

It starts slow, soft, and sweet. Both your mouths take their time exploring one another as his hand tenderly cups your face, holding you to him. But in no time at all, the heat builds, kisses stretching longer, deeper, until it’s not enough for him. Not nearly enough for you. A hum of approval slips from you the moment his tongue grazes yours, and he takes it as permission, sweeping in and taking control.

“I have fucking dreamed about this,” he pants against your lips. “About kissing you. About touching you. Tell me to stop if it’s too much, Y/N.”

Stop? He’s out of his damn mind if he thinks you want to stop. You shake your head against his lips, legs winding around his, and he takes the hint without hesitation. His hands find your waist, lifting you with ease until you’re resting around his hips. His eyes are fully dark now, black, and locked onto you. They never waver as he carries you both to his bedroom.

Mark lays you down carefully, like you’d break if he was any rougher, but his gaze tells a different story—intense, burning, desperate. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and he just stares, eyes roaming every inch of you like he’s savouring the moment before he ruins you completely.

You’ve never been this intimate with a man before. Sure, you’re no stranger to your own fingers, to vibrators, and okay—maybe you don’t mind the occasional steamy make out session at a party. But this? In his room, under his stare, is different. You’re not even naked yet, and somehow, you already feel so bare, so exposed.

“I want to take my time with you, Y/N,” Mark murmurs, as he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He gently pushes you back so you’re lying flat, his body hovering over yours. “I want to savour every inch of this pretty little body of yours... and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, nodding at the same time, and Mark smiles, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips.

His hands slide up your legs, gliding over the fabric of your sweatpants, until they reach the hem. His eyes search yours, silently asking for confirmation, and you nod, breath catching in your throat. He tugs at your pants, so slow, so deliberate, and when they finally slip off, he lets out a low, groggy "fuck" at the sight of the pink lacy panties you’d chosen for this—for him.

You suddenly feel self-conscious, heat creeping up your chest.

"Knew I'd say yes, huh?" Mark coos, his hand tracing the band of your panties as he looks over your body, studying it because it's the first time he’s seeing you like this. Displayed for him.

You blush, squirming beneath him, overwhelmed by how new, how unfamiliar this all feels. Mark senses your discomfort and smiles softly.

"Don’t go shy on me now, pretty girl," he murmurs, "I’m losing my shit knowing you wore this with me."

His hands graze over your hip bone, fingers brushing gently, soothing as they explore the small hint of flesh you're revealing to him. The softness of his touch, of him, makes you ease up just a little.

“I wore the matching bra too,” you say on an exhaled breath.

Mark groans, his eyes closing as he takes in a slow, intentional breath of his own, nostrils flaring slightly. “Did you? Can I see, baby? Please?”

You nod, and those exploring hands of his glide up your stomach, fingers brush over your skin as he tugs the tight fabric of your tank top over your head. When it falls away, you're left in nothing but the matching set. The pink bralette, almost see-through, giving him a clear, vivid view of your pebbled nipples.

"So fucking beautiful, Y/N," he says, his voice strained, almost painfully. "Can you take it off for me?"

You smile, teasing, as your hands find the clasp at the back. "After I went through all this effort to put it on for you?"

He shakes his head with a small scoff of laughter, the sound easing your nerves a bit. That familiar banter, the playful back-and-forth, reminds you why you asked him—why you wanted him to do this in the first place. You trust him.

“Is this the part where I learn that you’re a fucking brat?” he mutters, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“I can be, if you want me to be.”

Something flashes in his eyes—dark, predatory—and he leans in closer, his tone dropping an octave. “Take the bra off. Now, Y/N.”

And you do, the flimsy fabric slipping from your breasts and meeting the same fate as your sweats and tank. You feel so exposed, which is ridiculous considering how little modesty the bralette was offering in the first place. Still, your hands instinctively cross over your chest.

"Hey, don’t," Mark murmurs, his hand gently reaching up to move yours, his thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles around your wrist to reassure you. "You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me, Y/N. If you want to stop—”

"No," you interrupt. "I mean, please... I want this... I want you, Mark. I’m just nervous."

His eyes soften at your words, and he licks his lips. "Can I touch you?"

You nod, and his hands steadily, gently travel up and down your stomach, hovering around your sternum before they rest beneath your breasts. You suck in a breath as his touch lingers. "Can I touch you here?" he asks, and again, you nod.

Mark’s hands gently cup your chest, the softness and weight of your tits filling his palms. The pad of his thumb teases over one of your nipples (pretty peaked nipples that are practically begging for his mouth) in a steady rhythm that has you arching into him. He continues, flicking over the sensitive bud until he elicits the reaction he wants: quiet, breathless whimpers and tiny darling moans from your mouth.

“You’re so damn perfect, Y/N,” he mutters, his eyes glued to your body as he tests his touches, watching in awe as your eyes flutter, roll, or widen. “So damn perfect for me.”

You moan, and his head dips to the valley between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to trail a slow, heated path up your skin. His mouth, warm and wet, captures your pebbled nipple, sucking and licking with a hunger that makes your body shiver. It’s then that you remember why Mark is perfect for this—he’s experienced.

“Pretty fucking tits,” he groans, “I’ll fuck these one day. Promise.”

He focuses entirely on your nipples, squeezing your breasts, and you swear you're already on the verge of coming undone for him, writhing beneath him. Terrified it’ll end too soon, your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him away from your chest to capture his lips in a desperate kiss.

His chest hovers over you, so close to you, but still hidden beneath layers of fabric. His jeans, too tight, too impeding. You want to feel him—skin to skin. It’s not fair. You’re lying here in nothing but your underwear, exposed and vulnerable, while he’s still fully dressed—his clothes a frustrating barrier that keeps you from feeling him the way you need to. You can’t stand it anymore.

Your fingers dig into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, desperate to rip it off and close the damn distance. "Mark," you breathe. "Take it off. Please."

“You want it off, huh?” He teases.

You’re beyond patience now, body aching for him. “Yes. I do.”

Mark’s eyes darken at the desperation in your voice. He sits up slightly, pulling away from you just enough to shed his shirt, the fabric tugging over his head and revealing the toned muscles of his chest. You can’t help but watch, your eyes glued to the way his hands move, but he’s taking his damn time. Frustrated, you reach for his belt, but he stops you, his hand brushing yours as he undoes it himself. The sound of it unbuckling makes your breath hitch.

Finally, his jeans slip down, revealing the taut curve of his thighs before he kicks them aside, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers. His bulge is prominent, straining against the tight material, and you swear you can’t take it any longer.

But before you can pounce, before you can touch him and feel him the way you want to, he’s hovering back over you, his body pinning you down, forcing your back flat against the bed.

“So eager, pretty girl,” he muses with a teasing smirk. “But you asked me to teach you, didn’t you? I’m in charge.”

He’s so controlled, so assertive, it sends a flood of need coursing through your body. His hands are back on you, gliding over your now fully exposed body. Well, not entirely exposed—his fingers toy at the edge of your panties, tracing, testing, taunting, as if waiting for your permission. And you’d give him it immediately, only he wants to ride this out, prolong it.

His fingers move to dip just beneath the fabric, but then he stops.

“I know you said you wanted to be good at this, Y/N,” he hums. “But I want to be good for you. Tell me what you like. Tell me how to touch this pretty pussy.”

Heat floods your cheeks and pools between your legs. From the way Mark smiles, and the fact that he’s cupping you through your underwear, you know he can feel it too.

“I-um—”

“I already told you to stop being shy with me, Y/N,” he says. “Don’t think I overlooked that comment about you getting yourself off. You wanna learn, so do I. Let me be a good boy for you.”

Your eyes lock onto his, and you can see the seriousness. He wants to know what makes you tick, what works for you, what gets you off—wants to be the one to do it. His breath hitches as he studies you, chest contracting with focus.

“I-I start with my clit,” you instruct, and his fingers follow suit, finally dipping under the fabric he’s been teasing for the last ten minutes right to the spot. You want to feel embarrassed telling him all the dirty ways you play with yourself, but you can’t. He won’t let you feel that way, because, like you said, he’s him—sweet, loyal Mark.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re dripping for me,” he groans, voice thick with need. “Aching for me, aren’t you, baby?” You nod pathetically. “Then tell me, what do you do to your clit? Teach me.”

“I like small circles,” you whisper, your breath shaky.

“Like this?” he asks, his voice low as he carefully follows your instructions. It’s almost too careful. Too slow. You need more—so much more.

“Faster, Mark.”

His fingers speed up, the circles on your clit growing faster, the pressure he applies intensifies with each stroke. You moan, squirming beneath him, your hips shifting in desperate need for more—more of him.

"Can I try a finger, baby?" he asks, and you nod, wanting everything he has to give right now.

Mark shifts his gaze from your face down to where his hands are stuffed inside your panties. He watches as he trails his index finger up and down your slit slowly until it’s circling around your entrance before finally easing it inside. You gasp, feeling the initial stretch, and his eyes lock back onto yours, waiting for the sting to fade and the lust to take its place again. Once it does, he begins to move, his finger sliding in and out, in and out, faster and faster until your breaths come heavier.

“Mark,” you gasp on a moan, a thrill coursing through you as he picks up the pace.

Mark adds his thumb back to your clit, the combination of his fingers easing in and out of your drenched pussy and the attention to your sensitive nerves send waves of pleasure crashing over you. Because cumming has never felt like this—so close, so quick, so desperately needed. Mark must sense your closeness too because his lips quirk, devilish and taunting.

“You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” he asks, but it’s clearly not a question. The cocky bastard knows you are. “Or should I say finger? Think you could handle two?”

Your mind is incoherent from the pleasure, the foreign stretch of his fingers. Any thoughts you have dissolve into a haze of need, only capable of a frantic nodding at him because you want more, need more, need to cum. He eases in his middle finger, both digits slowing down as you adjust to him. Then, the world around you blurs; all that matters is the rhythm of his fingers and the growing knot forming in your stomach as his pace picks up. Each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, and you can feel the waves of your orgasms building, until it finally, deliciously, crashes over you.

Your vision blurs, and sounds you didn't even know you could make slip from your lips. All you can hear is Mark's incoherent, muffled praise—telling you how pretty, how perfect, how good you are for him.

When you come down from your high, he’s watching you intently, his hand running through your hair as you refocus back on him with hazy eyes. You’ve never experienced an orgasm like that, and as you notice the strained bulge in his pants, a surge of eagerness wells up in you. You want to return the favour, to please him, to learn how to be good the way you asked him to twach you.

You reach for his boxers, fingers trembling as you strip them off, revealing the thick hard length of him. Your breath catches at the sight of his cock, angry and needy and desperate. Mark looks down at you with his own haze-induced eyes.

“Please, Y/N.”

The heat radiating from him ignites a fire within you. You take a moment to admire the way he looks at you—hungry, eager. With a newfound confidence, you lean closer, your lips brushing against his skin, ready to give him the pleasure he’s so generously given you. You press soft, delicate kisses to his abdomen, watching as his stomach flexes in response.

You know you probably should suck his cock right now; that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Mark’s fingers clamp around your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to, not yet, not ever if you don’t want to,” he says softly. “But you can touch it. Touch me, Y/N, please.”

That feels more like your speed, so you wrap a firm hand around his cock, giving it a slow, steady long tug. Mark's head rolls back from where he sits on the bed. Your hands tremble with nerves, this is all so new to you, and you desperately want to please him. But before you can overthink it, Mark’s words soothe your insecurities.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “Just like that... so fucking good, Y/N.”

He's like a fucking mind reader, because that one comment, that small ounce of reassurance, has you stroking him faster. Your hand moves in a messy rhythm, feeling the weight of his cock in your palm.

As you continue to stroke him, you start to experiment with different techniques, trying out gentler touches and firmer grips. Mark's reactions are your guide, and you watch as his face contorts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut as he lets out low groans. He sounds so sexy, you like it, you want more of him like this.

You feel a sense of power, knowing that you're the one bringing him to the edge. Your strokes become more insistent, your hand moving faster as Mark's breathing quickens. You can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, the veins standing out as he gets closer. Mark's body tenses, his muscles straining and that’s when suddenly, his eyes snap open.

“You gotta stop, Y/N,” he growls, his voice low and husky as he pulls your hands off his length. For a moment, you almost feel scorned, but then he adds, “I want to last until I’m at least inside of you...”

You both laugh, Mark's eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckles, and you feel a flutter in your chest. He gently lies you back on his bed, grabbing a pillow and placing it underneath your hips. As he fumbles with his nightstand, he rips open a condom and slides it along his cock. You can't help but watch, mesmerized by the sight. It’s oddly sexy. Your body responds instinctively, your hips arching upwards as if seeking him out.

As Mark positions himself between your legs, his head dips down to kiss you. It’s sweet, like the first time, and you think you could get used to them—you want to get used to them. The feeling of his lips on yours, on your cheek, the top of your head.

When your lips finally break apart, he holds eye contact with you, aligning himself with your pussy. He teases you, brushing against your folds, occasionally grazing your clit—his eyes watching your reaction, a smirk on his lips. Sensitive, he notes. And he has to note because there will be a time for more, a time where he’ll make you work for it. But today isn’t that day. Today is about you and him—together.

“Tap my arm if it’s too much. If you want to stop—”

“Mark,” it’s your turn to be stern now. “Please, just fuck me.”

He smirks, liking this side of you—the impatience, the newfound dirty mouth of yours. Something else to note for next time, he thinks.

Rubbing himself up and down your slit for a final time, Mark presses the head of his cock to your entrance, hips shifting forward to slowly push into you. His nostrils flare, and his teeth clench because he has to be careful, he has to be in control. He cannot—he will not—hurt you any more than he has to.

So, slowly. Torturously slowly. Mark eases into you, inch by tantalizing inch, until his tip coaxes past the small ring of resistance. You’re so tight—so impossibly tight—that he almost regrets letting you jerk him off before hand, because he’s already teetering on the edge of cumming from merely the first few inches. He’s waited far too long for this moment; the last thing he wants is to blow his load before he’s even begun to move.

He shifts his focus from his own pleasure to your face, keenly observing for any signs of discomfort. When he catches the slight scrunch of your nose, he leans down to kiss you, wanting to distract you from the sting of you stretching around his cock for the first time.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. You were made for me.”

He feels your body relax into the mattress at the praise and your hands wrap around his back, pulling him closer. It’s a silent invitation, a clear signal that you’re okay with more—that you need more.

His hips finally press flush against yours, your legs spreading wider to accommodate him, all of him. Your fingers dust up and down his spine as you get used to this, how full you feel, how complete.

“Move, Mark,” you whisper barely above a whisper. “Please.”

And he does. He rolls his hips, pulling out of you completely before sinking back in, slow and sensual. You moan—right into his ear, because he’s buried in your neck—and he nearly loses the last thread of control he’s holding onto. Mark quickens his pace, keeping his body flush against yours—like he needs to be as close as possible. Needs to consume you the same way you’ve consumed him for years.

“Yes, Mark,” you cry, your nails raking down his back, scratching, digging, marking into his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. You have no idea how fucking perfect you are.”

He reaches for your hand, prying it from his back to lace his fingers with yours, pinning them to the mattress. It’s gentle, it’s sweet—it’s so Mark. He fucks you slowly, his hands holding yours as he kisses you. Intimate, tender, and so fucking hot.

You tighten around him, and the squeeze makes something flicker in Mark’s eyes—something determined, something feral.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper between ragged breaths.

“Fuck, yes—please,” he groans. “Cum around my cock, pretty girl. I need it. I want it.”

Hearing him just as desperate, just as needy as you, sends you over the edge. Your lip trembles, your lashes flutter, and then—your second orgasm takes over you, ripping a scream of his name from your throat.

It’s the prettiest thing Mark’s ever seen, ever heard—the best thing he’s ever felt. And he swears this moment will be etched into his memory until the day he dies. He holds you close to his chest as you ride your high, feeling every desperate breath you take, swallowing every moan with wet open mouth kisses. And when he senses you’ve finally come down, he chases his own orgasm—greedy for it, for you.

He becomes ravenous for his own release, his hips pistoning faster, harder, as he drives deeper into you. His breaths come in ragged gasps, his chest contracting as his fingertips anchor your hips in place. With every thrust his cock throbs with an almost unbearable intensity until he lets out a low, guttural groan, his body shuddering with pleasure.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers your name, over and over again, like a mantra and he spills inside of the condom.

The room fills with a silence, punctuated only by the sound of your mingled breaths as he comes down. Your hands are still entwined, hearts still racing, and you both can’t do anything but look at each other. Eventually, Mark leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling away. He eases out of you, removes the condom, and tosses it into the nearby trash can.

You watch him as he moves, and when he turns back to you—his gaze a mix of awe and satisfaction—you can’t help but smile.

“You know when I said I loved you platonically?” you ask, and his brows knit together. He looks like he’s about to have a full-blown panic attack, so you quickly put him at ease. “I lied. I actually just love you.”

Relief washes over his face before it melts into a smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Good. Because, I love you too. Always have.”

#favs

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uhhkpop · 3 months ago

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Bruh, I was doing this in high school and I’m only like 22. These kids are hopeless

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

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Let's Put the End in Friends | Jackson Wang (Part 2)

Part 1

The one where your best friend/sort of boyfriend really wants to fuck you.

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, SMUT, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 7.8k Warnings: reader is bad at feelings, jackson is in love, two horny weirdos, "begging" for sex (but not in a bad/manipulative way there's a mutual understanding ok), oral - fem!receiving (the man eats it like cake even after he hits), unprotected sex (don't do it unless you're best friends with Jackson Wang and I'm guessing you aren't), discussion of contraceptives, breeding kink sorta kinda heh, brief talk of having kids in future, banter, teasing, name calling, dirty talk, I think that's all?? they're still really annoying except just horny now A/N: Ughhhh here's the part two that I desperately wanted to write and finally people requested it!! This chapter is like 15% feelings and 85% smut, but it's all kinda mixed in so I apologize in advance. Jfc I love these two so much. If this is bad I'm sorry! I love writing where it takes me and it all felt right. I love my readers so much. <3 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

You hadn’t really known what to expect.

In dramas, after a confession, things were usually a little awkward, shy, sweet. But the day after Jackson confessed to you, he nearly bit your hand off when you tried to steal one of his dumplings. Granted, you bit him first, but it was his job to be chivalrous, not yours.

“Um, maybe eat your own before you try to steal mine?”

“I’m literally just a girl, Jackson.”

A few weeks after said confession, things were still mostly the same, as you were awoken by someone pinching your cheek. Bleary eyed, you squinted, looking up at a very hot, very annoyed face.

“Where the hell is my academy sweatshirt? I’m gonna be late for my shift,” he huffed, giving you another pinch. Jackson worked part time at an MMA academy, teaching a class of young children. Unfortunately, that meant three days out of the week, he had to wake up at 7 in the morning to be ready by 8. And if he was up, so were you.

“I dunno,” you whined groggily, rolling over. “I didn’t wear it. Promise.”

“Liar,” he accuses.

“Mmn. ‘m not lying, check my laundry.”

You hear shuffling, the sound of your hamper being opened (filled with clean clothes, because dirty clothes go on the bathroom floor of course), and quickly tug the blanket over your head as Jackson calls your bluff.

“At least it’s clean,” you attempt to plead your case, but the covers are yanked off. You yelp as Jackson flips you onto your back and begins to tickle you.

“Didn’t wear it, huh? Seriously, of all my clothes?” he snarls, fingers digging into your sides. You can’t speak; you instead make animalistic noises of possession as you attempt to free yourself. You wrap your legs around his waist and shove at his chest, shouting apologies in between fits of laughter.

At last, the tickling ends, and you all but collapse against the sheets, sprawled out like half a starfish.

“I’m going to start charging you for the things you steal,” Jackson says, breathless himself from the efforts of torture. Only then are you made aware that his hands are on your thighs. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose, until you do, when he squeezes them beneath his palms and brushes his thumbs under your pajama shorts.

“Hey,” you warn, wriggling beneath him. He laughs and leans over you.

“What?”

“You know what. Get off of me.”

He sighs, letting his head drop down as though weary.

When he looks at you again, his eyes have gone all soft, and it makes you feel warm and tingly inside. You swallow and force yourself to look away. You weren’t completely immune to his charms and didn’t want to risk it, answering the question he hadn’t asked.

“Nope.”

That was the deal.

Kissing was alright—as long as it wasn’t too long or too deep. Touching was fine too, just avoid any erogenous zones. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you’d placed such heavy restrictions on your…relationship? Whatever this was. Probably because at the end of the day, you were still terrified of losing him. Of crossing a bridge that crumbles behind you, never being able to return to where you were.

Right now, the two of you could still be around your friends, could still shamelessly flirt and insist it isn’t flirting. When you’d shown up to dinner with the guys, your hand clasped in Jackson’s to test the waters, no one said a word. Youngjae crinkled his nose and said it was cringe…and that’s it. That was the only reaction. The only people surprised about this development were the two of you, apparently, mostly you. And, you hadn’t realized how horny you were for one another.

When you’d stare at him after a shower, when he had the audacity to drink juice from the carton wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, you noticed that…you’ve always stared. That wasn’t new. It’s just that you were now aware of it, and also very aware of how it felt to see his throat working as he swallows, beads of water dripping down his chest and following the dip of his abs like a treasure map for your tongue—

But it went both ways, fortunately, as Jackson’s playful way of grabbing your waist when you were busily bent over no longer felt fun, but rather, made you want to push against him, feel his hands sliding elsewhere, because god had they always been so big? Had his fingers always been so long?

Presently, Jackson rolls his eyes and kisses your cheek. You refuse to look at him still, so he tilts down, where his lips brush your throat; when your head snaps up to scold him, he takes the opportunity to catch your lips with his, sighing as though relieved.

Kissing him feels so normal that it’s almost painful, like every second his lips are against yours, you ask yourself why you were so stupid, why you hadn’t noticed before, why you hadn’t understood that the feelings you’ve had for him were being confused for platonic when they were much, much closer to something akin to lo—

“Mmff…ou’re ‘unna ‘ee ate,” you mumble, though Jackson doesn’t stop kissing you. You giggle as your words are slurred by his mouth, which in turn makes him smile, which in turn makes you wrap your arms around his neck and consider begging him to let the kids down just this once.

You know he wouldn’t hesitate. So that’s why you groan and push him away. You squirm from beneath him before he can snatch you up, fixing your pajamas as though you were preparing to walk the red carpet. When you look up at Jackson, he’s on his knees on your bed, hands gripping the covers and head tilted to the side. Oh.

“Stop looking at me like that, puppy boy,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You cross your arms, taking on the weight of the world’s strongest soldier as Jackson fucking Wang silently begs to bend you over the mattress

Jackson lets his legs slip over the side, feet planted on the floor as he tugs you toward him by the strings of your shorts. You whine in protest—losing a drawstring was so—

“I think you like it when I beg,” Jackson says, voice too low to be good for your health. You look at him in surprise, his expression hasn’t really changed, but why did he have to do this to you?

“I think you’re gonna be late,” you huff, feeling your cheeks redden.

“I think you’re cute when you blush.”

“I think—”

“I think we’re gonna be good for each other.”

“It was my turn,” you pout. “I think you need a cold shower.”

Jackson mumbles something you don’t catch as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. His arms hang loosely around your hips, and you’re once again left with emotional whiplash as the man somehow goes from fuck me~ to hold me in the span of a few seconds. You swallow and rake your fingers through his hair (which he pulls at less nowadays, thanks to your nagging).

“I want to,” you say quietly, nails scratching at his head. “But I’m scared. Like…we could probably bounce back from this, and from holding hands and even kissing. But I’m afraid that I’d never be able to, you know, not hurt around you the further we go if things turn out bad. We just don’t know what’ll happen if we commit. That’s scary.”

To your surprise, Jackson squeezes you tighter. He tilts his head back to look up at you, his chin resting just above your belly button.

“What is it gonna take, pie?” he asks softly. Your brows furrow, though he continues. “What’s it gonna take for you to realize I’ve been yours this entire time?”

Your breath catches in your throat; you know he can feel it from the way your stomach tightens. He noses at the material of your top, planting a kiss there. Then the bastard opens his mouth again. You can taste his words.

“You own me, baby.”

You wake up confused and sweaty, fumbling around for your phone. You grab the device and groan—it’s not even five in the morning, and it’s a saturday.

The dream woke you up. You and Jackson had an idea to conserve water, apparently, sharing a shower too small for one person let alone two. Your brain filled in the blanks for the missing information, unfortunately for you, though you had no doubt he was as beautiful in this reality, too.

It was almost impossible for you to go back to sleep after waking up usually, so you throw the covers off with much more attitude than necessary before quietly stepping out of your room. The light beneath Jackson’s door is off, and you tiptoe down the hall, but when you round the corner to the kitchen you gasp in surprise.

Jackson raises a brow at you, taking a sip from the bottle of water in his hand. He’s wearing nothing but black boxers, showing off the lean muscles he works so hard on. So very hard.

��You’re up?” he asks, and by his raspy tone it’s clear he woke up not long before you. You nod and shrug for no reason at all other than to distract from the fact that your eyes are eating him alive. He has the sexiest bedhead, and the thin chain he wears glints as it drapes over his collar bones.

“Thirsty,” you lie. You move past him to reach the fridge, but an arm hooks around your waist. You inhale sharply as you’re tugged against his chest, the warmth of him shooting tingles down your back. You swallow, and he holds the bottle in front of you.

“Here,” he mumbles. He sounds so casual, like his actions hadn’t just made your soul briefly leave your physical form. You take the water from him and tilt your head back for a sip, not having realized how thirsty you were until you’ve finished half of it.

You turn around, though he doesn’t release you, so you remain pressed to his bare chest. You have no idea why, but you lean forward and kiss him just below his collar bone, realizing too late how cruel you were being. In an attempt to make it chaste, you kiss the other side, right above his heart, though Jackson’s hand flies to your hair. He cups the back of your head and refuses to let you move.

“Jackson,” you protest, but he whines.

He fucking. Whines.

“Please, pie. Just keep your lips on me. Please,” he breathes. You exhale a shaky breath and nod.

“Okay,” you say quietly, and you swear he sighs with relief. You watch his face, tilting in again and pressing another kiss to the same spot as before. Jackson nods, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips.

You kiss the center of his chest, lips dragging over his skin to his left pec. When you move a tad bit lower, this time where his heart beats, he hisses and tightens his grip in your hair. You gasp for all the right reasons, though he doesn’t know that.

“Fuck, sorry,” he whispers as though the two of you are sneaking around rather than doing…whatever this was in the middle of your shared kitchen. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you giggle softly. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Jackson looks down at you, his expression morphing completely into…calmness? But it still puts you on edge.

“What’d I say?” you ask with a frown.

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year,” he admits.

You blink.

“You…what?” you breathe, shaking your head. “But, you’ve had tinder…you’ve gone on dates.”

Jackson pulls you close again, silently asking for more kisses. You realize he might’ve been right…you like when he begs. You kiss him as he asks, this time close to his nipple, and he shudders.

“I’m not gonna fuck a girl who wants more than I can give her,” he says. You mouth over his skin, tongue reaching the edge of his areola. You like his answer.

“Why can’t you give her what she wants?” you ask, knowing what he’ll say but wanting to hear it all the same. Jackson knows this too, but he’s more than happy to give you what you want.

“Because she—fuck—”

Your tongue lathes over his nipple and he grips the counter tight.

“—’cause she’s not you,” he finishes. “None of them are. Can’t be anything for anyone except you. Wanna…wanna be everything to you.”

“You are…you are…” you mumble carelessly, barely kissing him, but rather rubbing your mouth on his chest. He seems more than okay with that, his head falling back, though he shakes it.

“I’m not, baby. I’ve got so much to give you, gonna show you what it’s like to be loved right, fucked right, needed right. I need you, y/n. I-I fucking need you so bad. Always have.”

You were supposed to be turning him on, not getting choked up, but you pulled back and covered your face. Jackson was still a little breathless and out of it, but he grabbed at your wrists.

“Sorry, fuck, was that…was that bad? I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, wiping helplessly at tears that slide down your cheeks. Jackson pulls you forward, crushing you to his chest. He wraps both arms around you so tight you can barely breathe. You love it.

What else do you love?

You love that you can feel his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh, that you can feel how much he wants from you. You swallow your tears and reach between you, your palm finding the thick outline beneath his boxers and squeezing.

Jackson’s reaction is visceral and downright sinful. He jumps, then buries his face into your hair.

“Again, p-please,” he mumbles. You do it again. There’s a weird mix between sadness and horniness between you, but you keep going, sliding your hand up and down his clothed length. He’s definitely thick and a little longer than average, but not frighteningly so.

Thick enough to make you choke, but not enough to bruise your cervix. Perfect. Somehow, you think you know exactly what it feels like to be fucked by him.

“Jesus fuck—I don’t care if I get to fuck you, just please…let me taste you, baby,” Jackson grunts, hips lazily bucking against you.

That…sounds alright with you. You take your hand off his cock and grab his wrist to pull him to his room, but he twists you around so that your back is to the counter. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, but the words die on your tongue when he drops to his knees.

“J-Jackson, you don’t have t-to…”

“Shh, baby,” he mumbles, cupping the backs of your thighs. You feel dumb, forgetting how to speak. “Let me make you feel good. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make when you play with yourself.”

Your cheeks flush pink, Jackson’s words hardly registering in your brain. He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your pajama shorts, leaning forward to kiss the front of your thigh before he begins tugging them down.

“W-What do you mean when I pla—oh…”

Jackson doesn’t hesitate, going face first between your legs and groaning. The vibrations ring through your inner thighs and go straight to your clit, nearly sending you down. He hadn’t even touched you properly yet.

“If you tell me you didn’t want me to hear you fucking yourself, I’m gonna call you a liar,” he whispers. His lips graze over the hair you keep trimmed—you could be a little self conscious about that at times, a couple past partners even commenting on it, but Jackson is worshipping your pussy without words and you’ve never felt so perfectly adequate.

You think over what he said once you regain a little bit of consciousness. And fuck.

You were tired of this sort of hindsight ability you had now, the way you felt when you thought back to the times you were so obviously head over heels in love with him and had convinced yourself you were friends.

Like fucking yourself with your favorite toy, back to the wall splitting your rooms. Moaning loud even though you didn’t do that when he wasn’t home.

“S-Sorry,” you whimper, because what the fuck else are you supposed to say? You feel warmth as Jackson breathes a laugh against your thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin near your labia.

“It’s okay, baby. Just do it again for me, hm? While I’m in the same room at least?”

Did he have to be such a fucking brat? You thought “pie” and his attitude would disappear after all of this, but you were sorely mistaken. You opened your mouth to complain.

Jackson pushed your thighs open wider, settling between them and looking up at you from his knees. You squeaked, and the last thing you saw before his face disappeared was that smug grin underneath his pretty brown eyes.

You learned two lessons very quickly. One:

Jackson Wang ate pussy like his life depended on it.

And two, you were immediately jealous of any woman who’d ever had him like this, on his knees between their legs. This should be illegal.

His tongue slid between your tender pussy lips, expertly finding your clit and daring to flick at it beneath the hood. Your knees did buckle, but he hugged your thighs and kept you upright, taking the opportunity to squeeze and knead at your ass. You reached down and gripped his hair for purchase, tugging, eliciting a groan from him that felt better than any dick you’d ever had. You did it again, and this time he practically sang praises into you—he was literally fucking you with his moans.

“Jesus fuck, Jackson?” you ask, unable to do much else other than feel and squeak out your needs. His fingers dug into the plushness of your thighs, though one hand slipped beneath your shirt. His thumb grazed over your nipple before gently pinching it, and you were ready to die.

When he sucked the tender flesh of your clit into his mouth, you stumbled forward, nearly sending him back until he caught you by the waist. You whimper and tug at him to let you go until finally, he pulls away from your cunt, looking far too pleased with shiny lips. He licks them and you fall into his lap, shuddering as you cling to him.

“That bad, huh? Should I keep my day job?” He teases you gently, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other hugs you tighter. You can still feel his cock straining against his boxers, nearly perfectly aligned as it presses against your ass.

“S-Shut up, a-asshole,” you stammer out, gripping his shoulders tightly for comfort—or maybe dear life. Jackson chuckles in a way that makes you feel safe and annoyed—because how can he send you to fucking space and then try to convince you it’s all good and dandy with the same mouth?

“You okay baby?” he asks softly. When you nod, he pulls back enough to kiss your temple, though keeps his lips there. You swallow, having a feeling that he wasn’t done with you. Not even close.

“Was it good?” he asks.

“Very c-classy,” you manage to huff, but Jackson only laughs.

“Mmm. Knew you’d taste good. Knew you’d love me on my knees,” he hums. You shiver, and he moves to your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Knew you’d look so pretty while I eat it.”

You let out a soft whine, your hips rolling into his. You’re spreading your sticky juices along his clothed cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he grabs your waist and bites his lower lip.

“Are you done? Hm? Or can I take you to my room and finish you off?” Jackson asks, tilting his head to kiss below your ear. “Lay you down and hold you open until that pretty clit is nice and swollen…”

“F-Fuck,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “N-No.”

“M’kay, need me to run you a bath then? I bought some new bath bombs—”

“No I meant…” you breathe, letting your head drop to his shoulder. You were dizzy, but your thoughts had never been more clear. Not necessarily a decision out of desperation, just…it needed to happen. You needed it.

“I-I don’t want you to eat me out, Jackson,” you say as you swallow.

You lift your head, relieved to see there’s no frustration in his gaze, no disappointment. God, he’s really just here to make sure you’re happy, safe, comfortable.

“I want…I want you to fuck me.”

“Why are we in your room?”

“My bed is bigger.”

“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”

“I don’t know, pie. When’s the last time you washed my sheets?”

You crinkle your nose, but Jackson just rolls his eyes. He drags you onto the bed with him, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it in your face. You sniff, your eyes immediately narrowing.

“Have you seriously been washing your bedding regularly now under the implication that we’d fuck soon?” you hiss, sitting up to glare at him. He was sprawled out, looking much too happy for your liking.

“Yes,” he says gleefully. You grab the pillow and make an attempt to suffocate him, but he doesn’t fight back, and that’s not very fun.

Oh yeah! You’re also only wearing his a t-shirt, and he’s only wearing boxers, and his cock is very hard and you’d very much like to put it in your mouth now that you’ve recovered somewhat from his tongue.

“You’re such a boy,” you groan, throwing the pillow back to the headboard. Jackson nods, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Yeah. Take this off and sit on my face please,” he hums, lying back as though preparing to be sacrificed to the thigh smothering gods.

“How romantic,” you scoff.

“Come sit on my face so I can make you cry the only way a man should make a woman cry, please~”

“Better.”

With the back and forth out of the way, you can’t bring yourself to smile, pulling your knees to your chest. Jackson sits up, reaching out to take one of your hands in his large one.

“Hey, no expectations, remember? You wanna stop right now, we’ll stop and never do anything like this again. You want me to finish you off, that’s fine too,” he says, thumb brushing the back of your knuckles. You shake your head.

“No. I think…I think we should. We need to, I mean, otherwise we’re gonna be in limbo forever. But…” you pause, feeling your eyes burn a little damn it. When you look up at him, his boyish charm is gone, replaced completely by a concerned man who almost looks in love with you.

“Hm? What is it, pie?” he asks, coaxing you gently. Ugh—why did sex have to be so god damn complicated?

“Promise me,” you say, biting your lower lip as you gather your words. “Promise me if we hate it, if it’s bad, just…stay with me? Like, forever? Please don’t move out? I mean if you have to get married just try to find someone who’s nice enough to let me stay? I’ll do the laundry. We can be like a throuple except you both just have to feed me and nothing else.”

“I love you, y/n.”

“Nevermind, let’s just do it.”

Jackson laughed as you flopped onto your back, though he leaned over you and caught your chin in his hand. You avoided looking at him, but he tilted your head down and pressed his forehead to yours to prevent you from escaping his eyes.

“I know you’re allergic to that word—”

“I am not—”

“But I love you. I love y/n and I love pie and I love the girl who thinks ‘coinkydink’ is an appropriate alternative for ‘coincidence’—”

“It is but okay—”

Jackson rolls his eyes, cupping your cheek under the romantic guise of making you shut up by pressing his thumb to your lips.

“Do you know why I want to fuck you?” he asks, his voice oddly gentle for such an erotic question. You blink, he lifts his thumb.

“Um, ‘cause I’m hot?” you offer with a shrug. His thumb goes back to your lips.

“Yes, but the truth? I want to make love to you but I assumed your reaction to that phrasing would be…”

Jackson lifts his thumb.

“Cringe?”

“Correct,” he smiles. “I’m gonna do what I can so the next man you meet has to climb to fucking heaven to reach the lowest bar for you. I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’ll be damned if you leave my bed able to call your best friend and complain that your inner thigh got more action than you did.”

You pout and push his hand away.

“That was one time,” you mumble. “If sex with you sucks, who am I gonna call? Yugyeom?”

“I dare you to fucking try,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. You beam, attempting to boop his nose, but he leans forward and kisses you instead. “If you leave this bed and hate me after, I’ll move out before sunset. And if you want me to l-o-v-e you for the rest of your life, I’ll do that too. I told you, pie. I’m yours.”

You kiss him this time, turning into him and cupping his jaw. Why couldn’t he see that the more of this he showed you, the less you wanted to risk it all disappearing?

You tilt your head to the side, nuzzling your face against his throat to plant kisses there. He inhales, leg sliding between yours as a hand strokes your hair.

“Mm…what do you want, y/n?” he asks, groaning when you suck beneath his jaw.

“Wanna suck you off,” you mumble against his skin, relishing in the heavy groan you feel from him. “Then I want you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” Jackson nods, licking his lips. You release him and sit up, looking over his stretched out form. He was so fucking gorgeous, and you were in his bed.

You place a hand in the center of his chest, and Jackson sits up on his elbows, his thighs parting eagerly. You giggle, gently kneeing his side.

“Patience,” you hum, dragging your hand down to his abs, letting your fingertips dip between the muscles. You remembered all those times you fantasized about drawing your tongue against them—realizing you can. So you throw a leg over his, sliding down until you’re hovering over his thighs, face level with his hips.

One hand rests on the elastic of his boxers while the other palms his abs. You look up at him as you drag your finger through the lines, following the shape of his muscles. He’s tense, but still coherent, so your other hand slides down to palm him again.

Jackson curses under his breath, eyes never leaving yours. So you lean down and flatten your tongue below his navel. He gasps as you lick down the thin trail of hair that disappears beneath his boxers, kissing the sensitive skin there before moving up again. Jackson whines, and you lift a brow.

“You’re not being very patient,” you say, kissing his stomach before licking up to his chest. Jackson’s head falls back, one hand moving to your hair.

“It’s been almost a year, pie,” he groans. “Want this…want you…”

You giggle softly. When you palm him again, curling your fingers around his constricted length, Jackson practically flies off the bed, grabbing your wrist.

“Baby, I will let you suck my cock until the sun explodes, just…please not now, I’m so fucking close, wanna be inside you…” he breathes. You’re surprised to see his chest flushed and heaving, not having realized how worked up he was over just a few light touches. You swallow and nod.

He smiles in relief, pulling you in for a kiss before sitting up on his knees, gently guiding you back. It’s a little jarring, suddenly being underneath your best friend, but Jackson immediately gives you gentle kisses, whispering your name and promises to make you feel good. You believe him.

You lie there awkwardly as he reaches over you to the bedside table, removing a foil packet. You feel your cheeks redden, which makes him chuckle, and you mumble a quiet shut up. When he holds the condom packet between his teeth and thumbs the waist of his boxers, you realize that you should probably be naked, too. So you cross your arms over the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it to the side.

The condom drops and bounces off your thigh as Jackson’s lips part in shock.

“What?” you mumble shyly, bringing your arms to your chest. He clears his throat and fumbles for the condom, shaking his head.

“Nothing. You’re gorgeous. Knew you were, just..." he sucks in air through his teeth.

You blush harder, resisting the urge to tell him to hurry.

Jackson manages to slide his boxers down to his thighs. His cock, once freed, smacks his toned stomach and you grip the covers at your sides as you watch an enticing bead of precum slide down the shaft. It’s exactly as you’d imagined; a little bigger than average, thick, and so beautifully veiny. God it’d feel so good on your tongue, but later. The idea that, hopefully in the future you could suck his beautiful cock whenever you wanted to, made you happier than you’d ever admit to anyone.

You watch as he rolls the condom down his length, swallowing down your doubts as he drops to his forearms on either side of you.

“You okay?” he asks, no humor, no teasing, just genuine concern. You nod and lick your lips.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you say with a shaky breath. Jackson smiles, leaning forward until your noses bump. The action makes you giggle until you realize he’s fitting your mouths together, and suddenly he’s kissing you.

It’s gentle and soft, his lips sucking at your lower one but moving no further than that. Your arms move to loosely hang around his shoulders, where both of his slip beneath you. You feel the head of his cock brush over your clit and jump. Jackson chuckles. It happens again, but this time, the swollen head catches against the opening between your folds, and you can already feel the stretch, wriggling your hips as if to wedge him in.

Jackson begins to push.

The stretch is slow, heavy, delicious, both of you releasing sounds of relief with eyes rolling back into your skulls as though you’ve both spent four years pretending you don’t want this. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he squeezes you tight beneath him as he sinks deeper and deeper. At last, his hips meet yours, and Jackson Wang, your best friend, is balls deep inside of you. You squeeze your eyes closed, overwhelmed by the sudden and intense sensations and emotions.

“Are you okay? Feels okay, baby?” he asks softly, clearly restraining himself. You nod, licking your lips.

“Mhm. It’s good. So good,” you babble. Jackson chuckles, nodding as he kisses you again. It’s sweeter this time, moreso as he begins to slide out. The drag of his cock makes you shudder, and you clamp your thighs tight around his waist.

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Lock me up inside you, baby. So fucking pretty.”

You purr in response, arching your back. Jackson takes this as a go ahead, pushing himself up to his palms as he begins to fuck you properly.

You feel your mouth open in shock as he thrusts rhythmically, the switch between emptiness and fullness making your head spin. Every time his hips smack the backs of your thighs, another grunt escapes his mouth, and fuck if you couldn’t listen to that sound for the rest of your life.

Jackson leans down and kisses you. This time, you make sure it’s not as sweet, sucking his tongue and letting him lick yours. You taste his groan as he bucks heavily, pausing to collect himself. Your legs hook around his waist, heel digging into his lower spine, making him moan.

“F-Fuck baby, gonna make me come already,” he breathes, letting his head hang down. You smile, cupping his face and pulling him into you.

“So sensitive,” you purr. Jackson huffs.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” he hums, wincing at his own sharp thrust. “Maybe I should pull out and leave that gorgeous head to wonder what it’d be like.”

“You won’t,” you reply, calling his bluff. “If I begged you, I bet you’d go raw.”

Jackson surges forward, hands moving behind your knees as he folds you nearly in half. You choke on air and look up at him, wondering why the fuck you've forced yourself to wait for this.

“You don’t have to beg for shit. Don’t fucking tempt me, y/n.”

Your mouth opens at his tone, but he begins to fuck you harder, gripping your form against him as he gives you everything he has. Your whines turn into muffled cries as he tucks your face into his shoulder.

“Shh…let’s not let the neighbors know I’m finally inside you baby…that’s it, quietly…take it for me, yeah?” he hums, and you whimper, digging your nails into his skin. Your legs bounce uselessly where he holds them in place, giving him room to be flush against your ass each time he bottoms out.

“Can’t wait for you to let me lick this sweet little cunt until you cry,” he murmurs, leaning back to slip a hand between you. You jump when he immediately finds your clit, index and middle finger repeatedly alternating pressure. He’s a god damned expert, and you feel yourself clenching tight around the obstruction of his cock.

“Fuck…is that all it takes? You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice, y/n," Jackson groans. “More, baby. That’s it…fuck. So fucking good.”

“J-Jackson,” you huff, squirming beneath the pressure of his weight. “Nng…f-feels so good…”

“Yeah, princess? Just like you've dreamed about?"

Fuck. He always knew, knew you too well, were you made of glass?

"Y-yeah," you whimper, choosing not to lie. "B-Better."

Jackson kisses you again, his hand slowing its movements to match his hips.

“Show me,” he says roughly, obviously close himself. “I wanna feel you cum, baby. Want my cock shiny and sticky like my tongue was.”

“Mm..don’t stop, ‘m close,” you breathe. You tuck your hands into his hair, tugging at the strands, knowing what kind of response you’d experience. He groans, as expected, though pulls back and pushes your thighs apart.

He looks down at your cunt swallowing his cock whole as he rubs at your hooded clit, cursing and biting his lip. Your cheeks flush despite everything, and when his eyes flicker to your face—you’re not sure what to call that expression if not love.

You want him to cum first. You bring his hand away from your clit and up to your lips, kissing the wet pads of his fingers before slipping them into your mouth. Jackson lets out a high pitched noise that you can’t wait to tease him over later as he watches you suck them.

He swallows and leans forwards, pulling your fingers away from your mouth to kiss you. You think it’s an accident, the intimacy, but the kiss is soft, so soft that he stops thrusting and you stop trying to make him cum, so soft that you’re suddenly crying and hugging him and apologizing for being a fucking idiot.

“Hey, ‘s okay baby, I’m here,” he whispers, his own eyes wet. “Stop crying, y/n. I’m right here. I’m yours. I’ll still be yours tomorrow. Shh...”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you breathe, burying your head against his throat despite the fact that his cock is kissing the opening of your cervix currently. “I was scared, Jackson, so fucking scared, I-I think I loved you so much that I scared myself into thinking I couldn’t.”

“Huh?” he asks, knowing damn well what you said according to the stupid grin on his face. You roll your eyes, using the back of your hand to wipe at your tears.

“I said I love you, asshole,” you whisper, sniffling. “And ‘m not gonna say it again.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, pulling your hands down to wipe your tears himself. “Fine. I’ll just memorize the way you sound when you say it and play it over and over until we live in a nursing home together."

"You roll your eyes, smiling through the teariness. Only you would cry in the middle of sex, but Jackson seemed to love this, taking it as your not-so-silent confession.

He eventually shifts again, making you shudder despite the fact that he was only getting comfortable. He prepares to ask—you already know—want me to stop? So you shake your head before he gets the words out.

“I want it, you know, without,” you say instead, shyly looking up at him from your elbows. Jackson looks a little confused, and you sigh, gesturing around as if that’s helpful at all. “You know. Without.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, pie—”

“I’m saying I want you to fuck me, and then I want you to tell me you love me so I can say it back without dying, and then I want to go to the pharmacy with you and get plan b even though I’m on birth control because we’d make cute babies but I wanna wait like 10 years probably. So, like, without? If you want?”

You finish your monologue, your cheeks burning hot. You flop to your back and cover your face, once again forgetting about the cock buried inside of you. Jackson doesn’t, of course.

“Are you asking me to hit it raw—”

“Must you be so unromantic—”

“Shut up and c’mere,” he mumbles. He leans down, pulling you up enough to kiss you. You feel him shuffling between you, embarrassed by the gasp that slips out when he pulls back. Jackson smirks. There’s a snap of rubber and he winces as he removes the condom, tossing it into his desk trash can.

“Easy, baby. He’ll be back,” he chuckles.

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you groan. But then he’s pushing into you again, and fuck if the look on his face doesn’t make you want to buy a first class ticket to hell.

“Fucking…jesus…baby…” he gasps. You giggle, though he just pushes you back to hide the apparent blush on his cheeks.

“That bad huh?” you mock him, feeling him bottom out, completely. He curses and dips his head to kiss you, but it’s messy and desperate and feeds the fire that’s been burning inside of you for too long.

“So fucking…nng…so fucking pretty,” he says with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasp, clinging to his shoulders as he leans down. He kisses you again, hard, palms flattening on the bed on either side of your hips. He uses the leverage to fuck you harder, leaning over you until you’re pinned beneath him.

“D-Didn’t know it’d turn you into an animal,” you giggle breathlessly, hand fisting his hair. He groans and tilts his head to the side.

“You turn me into a fucking animal, baby,” Jackson grunts. “Makes me…makes me want to do stupid things, like fuck you without a condom and cum so deep the pill doesn’t do shit to stop it—”

“Jackson—”

“You said it first. Still gonna make you swallow the pill with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You squeak and tug him down for a filthy kiss, tongues barely missing the mark as his thrusts become loose and sloppy. He’s fucking himself dumb, gripping the sheets and whining against your mouth like a dog.

“G-Gotta make you cum. Gotta make it good for you,” he breathes, reaching between you. You pull his hand away, shaking your head. He begins to argue but you squeeze your thighs around his waist, making him shudder and stumble. He falls against you, cursing into your hair as he continues his thrusts.

“Want you to cum first,” you whisper, hugging him tight. “Want you to fill me up like you said, so fucking deep—"

He groans, leaning on you and thrusting heavy as he snaps his hips forward. His speed remains the same, but you can hear the sound of his hips meeting your ass like he's trying to bury himself in you indefinitely.

"T-That's...fuck..." you whimper, nodding. "Good, that's good."

“Ah…ah…” Jackson whines, shaking his head. “F-Fuck, baby…gonna cum, is that…is that okay? Fucking…ah…c-can I cum?”

Oh. Oh.

You were going to explore this later, him asking permission to cum. But not now.

“Please, Jax. Please cum for me, in me?” you beg softly. “Promise, I’ll take it so good."

“Fuck, I know you will, princess. Know you’ll take it all so good for me…so perfect, so fucking beautiful…all mine, baby…”

Jackson clings to you so tight you have trouble breathing, but you feel him shudder, hear him gasp, and you squeeze him back just as much. He releases a sob into your hair, his muscles tensing as he cums hard. You feel his cock pulsing, the warmth spreading inside of you, and realize with a start that you’re feeling his actual cum seeping into your womb.

You rub his back for a few minutes while he recovers, until he finally sits up and hisses at the sensitivity of his softening cock still buried in you. When he tugs away, it’s your turn to gasp, shivering at the cool emptiness you feel.

“Was that okay?” he asks quietly, hands pushing your thighs apart. You nod.

“Yeah, ‘s good. What are you—shit.”

Jackson knelt between your legs, lips first kissing your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. You all but scream, trying to clamp your legs together, but his easy strength prevents that.

“F…Jackson...fuck, w-what are you doing?” you whimper again, trying to push yourself up to look at him. He uses a hand on the soft of your belly, pushing you back down. He pops off of your clit, free hand taking over the strokes.

“My babygirl didn’t cum. I’m gonna make sure she does,” he explains as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“B-But you…your cum…”

“Mhm, keep reminding me,” he moans, tongue slipping beneath the hood of your clit while two long fingers prod at your sore hole. You wince, but he slowly eases them in, his own cum working as lube. Rather than move them, he holds them there, gently stroking inside of your walls while he laps freely between your labia.

In a frighteningly short amount of time, you’re coming off the bed (literally) with a cry of surprise, mumbling his name over and over again as though he could save you from the crushing pleasure you felt. Your thighs clamped around his head, though he made no move to escape, apparently right where he wanted to be as it allowed him to continue sucking and licking the sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs trembled violently.

It stole your breath, and you saw stars, mixed in a few moments later with a boyish grin and someone peppering your face with kisses. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, definitely if you were comparing him to other men. Well. There was no comparison.

You could only imagine how it'd feel with his cock as deep as it was. Next time. You'd suck his cock, cum on it...maybe make him beg to do the same.

Jackson is patient enough to wait until you’ve mostly returned to your body before he smugly proclaims that he was right, the sex was great, and you owe him a backrub (don’t you usually have to make bets to win them in the first place?) but whatever, because you were fucked out and your boy was happy and probably planning your wedding.

But once you attempted to sit up, wincing at the soreness of keeping your legs open, Jackson kissed you sweetly and urged you to lie down again. He left for a few minutes, returning with boxers (darn it) and a bottle of water, which he forced you to sip whilst he ran you a bath.

You were helped down the hall, feeling like a frail old lady after you insisted you could do it—and had to catch yourself by the doorframe as you walked like a baby deer. You informed him it wasn’t polite to laugh at people you’ve nearly fucked to death, regretting your words immediately as a somehow cocky Jackson became even cockier.

He guided you into the bath, telling you to relax while he ran to the pharmacy. Before he left though, he knelt beside the tub, fingers tapping at the lava-like water you were soaking in.

“Do you like the smell?” he asks, resting his chin on his fist. You nod, letting your fingers find his and trying to pull them beneath the water. He compromised by pulling yours out, kissing the back of your knuckles. “Good. It’s strawberry scented.”

“Fucking me doesn’t make my bath bombs free real estate,” you say pointedly.

“Fucking me doesn’t make my clothes free real estate.”

You open your mouth, then purse your lips.

“Touche.”

“I have something to ask,” he sighs, resting his lips on your hand. “It’s really important.”

Oh god. What.

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice shaky. Jackson grins.

“Just…did you like my cream, pie?”

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating the last hour and four years of your life. “I want a divorce.”

“I love you.”

“How…how long have you thought of that joke?” you ask. You didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Um…about 20 seconds after I called you pie for the first time? Not with you of course.”

“Well why in the god damn hell not with me!?”

“I mean? Yes with you?”

“Creep.”

“I love you.”

“I still want a divorce.”

“I still love you.”

“Nng.”

“That means I love you in worm?”

“...Yeah.”

“Heh~”

“Hey Jackson?”

“Mm?”

“Your lil sperms might be kinda fast? So like? Maybe leave now? I do love you but I will not have your babies right now?”

“Oh. Yeah. Be right back. Try not to make a baby with those in the meantime, they’re not ripe yet, you know?”

"...Hurry."

#favs

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

Text

It’s not that I want him to rail me despite the fact that he is short and skinny and cute

Nor is it that I want him to rail me in addition to the fact that he is short and skinny and cute

I want him to rail me expressly because he is short and skinny and cute

Hope this helps

#*cough* yeo hwanwoong *cough*#huh? I didn’t say anything #you must have imagined it

0 notes

uhhkpop · 5 months ago

Note

sar baby 😻 light of my life, HAPPY ONE YEAR! I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF YOU!!

now business: can i have juyeon with the prompt “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.” 👹

6:10 p.m. — lee juyeon

prompt. “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.”

wc. 1.6k [srsly idk how to write a drabble under 1k]

warnings. switch!juyeon, switch!reader, needy juyeon, heavy praise, several uses of good boy, pet names [baby], unprotected sex, creampie, kinda messy sex? – MINORS DNI 18+

note. keir, my angel, my bff <# thank u so so much! u know i for sure would’ve deleted this account if you hadn’t been here to keep me grounded (as u always do.) i love u more than u will ever know & i will forever thank the universe for bringing u 2 me 🤬!! & THANK YEWWW FOR REQUESTING OUR BELOVED, SLUTTY JUYO! i hope u like it (not proofread bc u usually do that for me hahah)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash! ࿐ྂ

p.s. this is my first tbz work… plz be gentle 🫡

you swear greed will be lee juyeon’s downfall. gluttonous and insatiable, the crazed, unhinged man cannot keep his hands off of you for the life of him.

you think he’d die if he went a half day without touching you, kissing you, fucking you– that, or he’d die from the lack of attention.

it’s almost concerning. almost… sometimes, you can’t be bothered to care when it feels like you’re on cloud nine every time he puts his hands on you.

but sometimes, you are bothered by it.

“baby, i’m busy,” you mumble, typing away at your laptop. you’re hyper focused on the work document in front of you, the blue light straining your eyes. “just give me a little.”

he’s standing behind your chair with his arms crossed, a small pout etched into his lips.

“you said you’d be done by 6? it’s 6:10…” he sulks and you crack a smile, spinning your chair around to look at your pouty boyfriend.

you grin, “what, are you timing me now, juyeon?”

he sighs dramatically, “‘course ‘m not, but you promised me you wouldn’t be working past 6.”

“i have to get this spreadsheet done before tomorrow morning, baby. and i would’ve gotten it done this morning if a certain someone didn’t beg me to stay in bed with them.” you joke lightly, “do you want me to get fired or something?”

the frown on his face deepens as the smile on yours spreads. “you know i don’t… i just miss you.” he sighs, dropping his arms by his sides. “feels like i haven’t seen you in hours. tired of you doing work when you can be doing other things worthy of your time. like me, for example.”

you reach out, taking his hands into yours. “two. you lasted two hours, juyeon.”

“two hours too long.” he whines softly and you can’t help but find him so endearing. “baby, please, just… just take a break.”

he doesn’t wait for you to object, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you back into your bedroom and you groan, knowingly. you’re not getting that damn spreadsheet done until he’s fucked himself to sleep.

“you have to be quick, juyo. i wanna finish my work before it’s too late to order takeout.” you tell him as he tugs you, to which he mumbles a ‘yeah, yeah.’ it’s obvious he has no intention of acting in accordance with your wishes.

because when you’re in your room, he pulls you in for a desperate kiss. he moans into your mouth as his hands squeeze your hips and pull you so you’re flush against his body. you feel his hard cock through the thin material of his shorts when he grinds into you.

you pull back with a breathy giggle, “baby, how are you already hard?”

“i’ve been hard for an hour now.” he huffs, gripping you tighter. he lowers his voice till it’s just barely above a whisper, “kept thinkin’ ‘bout how… how you called me your good boy… and how you told me how good my cock made you feel. looked so pretty and you felt so fucking good, baby. wanna feel you around me again. need to.”

you let out a sharp breath, mind wandering back to the long hour he had your ankles resting on his shoulders this morning. your cunt pulses as you remember how he fucked you so nice and so deep while you brainlessly babbled out praise. most of it being incoherent comments about his perfect cock.

curse lee juyeon and his dick for turning you on when it shouldn’t.

he groans, digging himself into your clothed tummy. “gonna let me fuck you, yeah?”

you moan softly, arousal probably soaking through your shorts with how wet you are. “as long as you’re quick, then you can, baby.”

he nods mindlessly, but he’s ignoring that request again.

he leisurely shimmies your shorts and panties off and then his own shorts– he has on nothing underneath and you wish you could say you were surprised– before guiding you onto the bed. he towers over you, repeatedly slapping the head of his cock against your clit and laughing softly as you moan and jerk underneath him.

you huff at his taunting, “stop that,”

he feigns innocence with a faux pout, “stop what?”

two can play at that game.

“juyeon?” you jut your bottom lip out, “you wanna be my good boy, don’t you?”

it’s like a flip switches on inside of him. he’s left breathless, nodding his head eagerly like a puppy, pulling his cock away from your clit.

“good. now fuck me and be quick. i’m not gonna tell you again.” you command, voice rigid and unforgiving.

he doesn’t protest, he doesn’t complain, instead he obliges without an ounce of hesitation. he lines himself up with your entrance– where you clench around absolutely nothing– pushing the tip of his cock into you slowly.

you inhale sharply, the air in your lungs fleeing quickly as you feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size. you have to tell your body to relax at the sudden invasion, unclenching so he can push himself in deeper.

“baby,” he moans, throwing his head back. “you’re so fucking tight. oh, fuck–”

“j-just keep moving, juyo, i can take it.” you manage to tell him, voice cracking ever so slightly towards the end of your sentence.

you whimper softly when he bottoms out. his cock fills you like no other and the thought has you clamping around him, walls molding to his shape just as they’re meant to.

juyeon pulls out with a whine and pushes back into you slowly. you’re sure he’s doing it for his own sake. any faster and your poor, pent-up baby is going to cum embarrassingly quick.

but you have other things you need to do, so this needs to go at your preferred pace.

“go faster, baby,” you say airly.

he reluctantly speeds up, giving you deep, precise thrusts. he lodges his bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth attempting to bite back the ridiculously needy sounds his body wants to expose.

and you notice, letting out a giggly moan. “that’s it, baby. you’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” you coo at him.

juyeon gasps, releasing his lip so a broken moan can slip past them, his cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you.

you hum in delight, “hmmm, that really does make you hard, huh?” you ask rhetorically. “i can feel you pulsing inside of me.”

and you can. he’s throbbing in between your walls like he’s about to bust inside of you and it’s filling you with the utmost joy. when you’d met juyeon forever and a year ago, you wouldn’t have thought he’d be so easy to reduce to a mess. you’re not complaining, though. not when he sounds so pretty cursing and moaning for you like a cute bitch in heat.

“fuh-fuck, again– please, s-say it again.” he begs, eyes pleading and eyebrows knit together.

you moan softly, willing to give him everything he wants. “cock feels so good. you’re fucking me so good, juyeon. you’re such a good boy.” you needily place your hand between your thighs, right above where his cock meets your messy cunt. your fingers quickly find your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud in tandem with his now-erratic thrusts. “my good boy.”

you clench around him as the words tumble out of your mouth and juyeon’s eyes nearly roll. he cries out needily, “close. ‘m close, baby–”

you rub your clit faster and squeeze him tighter, mewling out your reply. “cum for me, baby. cum inside me ‘n fill me up.”

he whines, pounding into your harder and harder before his thrusts cease and he’s pressed deep inside of you. his warm seed spills, coating your walls as he lets out a long, drawn out groan of pleasure.

he wants to collapse, but he knows you haven’t gotten off.

so before he can completely come down from his high, juyeon resumes his thrusts. you feel his release spill every time he pulls out of you and it’s messy. a sloppy, wet noise sounds every time his balls slap against your cum coated cunt.

juyeon is surely overstimulated. you can tell by the babbles of him begging you to cum and the rolling of his eyes and the whimpers and mewls that are driving you absolutely feral underneath him.

you don’t last much longer after that, body jolting as you feel the tightrope in the pit of your tummy snap. your walls envelope his cock into a tight hug as you completely release over him. you cry with his name dying on your tongue, the earth-shattering orgasm washing over you.

he has to force himself to stop fucking you. tears brim in his eyes right before he collapses on top of you, his cock slipping out of your worn pussy. every nerve ending in his body feels like they’ve been electrified and he can’t help but twitch and pant on top of you.

you grunt with his weight on you, “juyo, you okay?” you ask breathily.

“mmm,” he moans in response. he’s fine.

you smile, running your hands through his hair. “you’re gonna let me go back to work now, right? i gave you your fix, so you should be good for at least another two hours. i should be done before then, though.”

he groans, “i dont want you to work.”

“i know you don’t–”

“so stay here with me.”

you huff, “how many times do i have to let you fuck me before you’ll let me work?”

he pulls up and smiles cheekily at you, eyes still a bit dazed. “maybe… three times. or four.”

you scoff, “you are such a piece of work.”

#favs

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

Text

Hello! This is my fanfic blog! You can call me C. I was born in 2003 and use they/them pronouns. I’ve been considering doing this for a long time but only now have had the guts to do it.

HERE’S SOME IMPORTANT INFO

Most of my works will be 18+. I understand that I cannot stop minors from looking at my content, however, I request that if you are not a legal adult, please do not interact with me or my NSFW posts directly(likes, asks, reblogs, etc). This is not only for your safety but also mine as I could potentially get in trouble for interacting with a minor in a way that is deemed inappropriate. I cannot go through every reblog or like, so I ask that you respect this.

I DO NOT TAKE REQUESTS + ALL MY WRITING IS FOR MYSELF. I made this blog to give myself works in which I see things that other writers often don’t include. As such, unlike most x reader fanfiction, this is not supposed to represent the widest demographic possible. For the most part, things like skin tone and eye color will be very vague but things like neurodivergence, personal experiences with gender identity and presentation, sexuality and attraction, height, etc. may be very specific. In pretty much all sexual content, reader will have ‘female’ anatomy.

By reading my works, you are acknowledging that you and only you are responsible for the content you consume and that I hold no responsibility if you happen to read something that upsets you. I will do my best to label as much as I can, but at the end of the day, it is impossible to go over every single thing that could possibly upset someone.

Finally, if you enjoy what I write or have something you’d like to say, please let me know! I love hearing from people and although my writing is for me it would make me happy to hear that something I created made someone else feel seen or represented. Although I don’t take requests, I’m always open to hearing ideas and discussing things with others

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

Text

pressure points

yunho x fem!reader

summary: your physical therapy is getting very physical

tags: physiotherapist!yunho, smut (mdni), reader is painfully horny (especially for yunho's hands), tension, kissing, teasing, fingering; feat. woosan as your bffs

wc: 3.2k

a/n: started writing this back when i went to physiotherapy--but i swear it's only partially inspired by real occurrences, my therapist was very professional

masterlist

Usually, your weekly meet ups with your best friends—or girls’ night as Wooyoung liked to call it, even when you were the only one who technically qualified—were your sanctuary, your safe space, your chance to decompress after a stressful week at work. But usually your non-existent sex life wasn’t the topic of the night, nor were you interrogated over your relationship to your new physiotherapist. You were quickly starting to regret ever mentioning him or his big hands or cheeky smile or—

“I know I'm barely one to talk,” Wooyoung said, clearly amused over the whole situation and not at all willing to change topic, “but you’re like pathetically horny.”

“No, listen,” you started, pointing at him with the pretzel stick you’d been nibbling on. “Yunho just has—”

“Yunho?” Wooyoung snorted, “You’re on first name basis with your physiotherapist?”

“Don’t make it weird, that’s just their policy and it makes it more comfortable too.”

“Mhm, right. Except you’re maybe getting a little too comfortable.”

Before you could retort, San let himself plop onto the empty chair at your table. “What did I miss?” He asked casually while scanning the drinks menu (as if he didn’t already know his order).

“Nothing much,” Wooyoung replied, “I'm getting a promotion and y/n wants to fuck her physiotherapist.”

“Woo!”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “What, it’s true.”

“It’s not! He just—it’s not my fault that he touched my hips like that!”

“Y/n, honey, he was showing you an exercise.”

“Well, yeah, but his hands are just kinda sexy and—” you trailed off when you saw San pulling a face. “What?”

San shook his head with a sigh, “Girl, you want to fuck him so bad.”

Maybe your friends had a point, because despite your tiring work day and the way your joints were aching with exhaustion, you found yourself feeling giddy for your next appointment with Yunho. The only thing putting a damper on your mood was that after today you only had one more session left, when really you wished you could keep going forever.

The clinic was rather quiet and the lights in the back were already off—you always had the last time slot of the day and you rarely met other patrons when you came in. Today was no different, the only people you could spot were Yunho and one of his colleagues.

“Hey,” Yunho greeted you with a soft smile, briefly looking up before focusing back on where he seemed to be typing something into the computer behind the counter, “On time as always.”

“Of course,” you replied with a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up for literally no reason at all.

“Very commendable,” he grinned and then his eyes darted up to you once more, almost as if he was accessing you, “You can already get into room 2, I’m with you in a second,” he nodded towards a door before turning to his colleague, “Mingi, can you look this over for me?”

“Sure, no problem,” the other man replied, hovering over the screen of the computer too. Your gaze lingered on the scene a second longer, taking in how Yunho adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose, but when he looked up, meeting your gaze in a question, you quickly hurried into the room he’d pointed at. It was a smaller one than usual; the mirror, yoga mats and other equipment you were used to replaced by a massage table that you awkwardly sat down on while you waited. It only took another one or two minutes for Yunho to appear in the doorframe.

“You were looking kind of tired, so I thought it’s a good idea to do something more relaxing today,” he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He had your files in his hand, scribbling something down before leaving the clipboard on the little shelf in the corner, “But remember you still have to do the exercises at home though. And no slouching.”

“Aye, Sir,” you replied with a playful salute that got frozen mid-air when he met your gaze with a smile and a cheeky “Good girl.” Good. Girl. How the fuck were you supposed to survive this?

“Alright,” he continued, all professional, as if he hadn’t just hit you out of left field with his comment, “we’ll loosen up your muscles a bit, in the neck and upper back area, since that’s where you’re having the most trouble. Please lay down on your stomach with your head on this side,” he briefly tapped the head rest, “and it’d be good if you removed your top so I have access to your back—I can go out for a second if you prefer.”

You knew there were no hidden motives there, after all he was a professional and this was his job. But the thought of undressing in front of the guy you’d been having somewhat inappropriate thoughts of was still making your heart race.

“Uhm, no, it’s okay,” you stuttered, turning your upper body away from him as you slipped out of your shirt, holding the fabric close to your chest. “B—my bra too?”

“No, it’s okay, we can just—” he reached out and you felt his fingers gently brush your skin as he pushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, “move them out of the way like this.” His touch left goosebumps in its wake and maybe it was your wishful thinking, but you thought his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. Then he pulled away though, clearing his throat and stepping aside so you had enough space to lie down. He took a seat on a little rolling chair at the top of the table and you could see his legs through the hole of the headrest.

His hands felt warm and soft as he smoothed them over your upper back a few times before he started rubbing out the sore spots in your neck. You felt the way the tension was seeping out of you, making you feel relaxed and at ease. At least until he spoke up again with his sweet honey voice.

“It’s okay if it hurts a little, but if you’re in so much pain that you want to scream, do tell me. We don’t want that.” He let his hands move to your left shoulder blade, finding one of your pressure points, “For it to hurt that badly, I mean. I don’t mind if you scream.” He chuckled and you huffed out a laugh as well while your cheeks were heating up for nth time that day. It was a good thing he couldn’t see your face right now. “Uh, yeah, I’ll let you know," you replied but all you could think about was him making you scream. Your silly brain couldn't help but wonder if he liked a vocal partner.

Yunho seemed blissfully unaware of your inner tumult, rubbing out the knots in your back completely unbothered. “This still okay?” He asked as he moved to another point and you felt yourself gasp a little at the initial pain. It wasn’t exactly a bad pain though. Something about the light sting was almost pleasurable.

“Still okay,” you assured and he hummed in affirmation as his fingers kept moving. He was skilled and precise in his ministrations, and you knew he had to be, with this being his literal job, but the thought that perhaps his fingers were skillful in other places too wouldn’t leave your mind for the rest of the massage.

It was over too quickly for your liking, ended by him gently moving the straps of your bra back up your shoulders. “Alright,” he said, scooting away from the table to give you some space, “That’s it for today.”

“Thanks, I really needed that,” you mumbled as you sat up, just to immediately regret your words. You sounded like a pathetic, touch starved horndog.

“Mhm,” he hummed and you couldn’t read his expression as he took a note in your files, “I could see that.”

“So, what if I do want to fuck him?”

Wooyoung let out a giggle, “Finally admitting to it, huh?”

“Just go for it,” San advised, “It’s gonna be your last appointment anyway.”

That was a reminder you really didn’t want to hear, so you quickly shoved the thought aside in favor of more pressing questions.. “But what’s that supposed to mean? How would I even go for it?”

“Well, do it the way you normally would,” Wooyoung said matter of factly, “You know how to flirt, right?”

“I—I don’t. Not like that. I never really tried to get into anyone’s pants before,” you admitted.

San raised an eyebrow, “So you just had people coming at you without even trying? What a flexer.”

“Don’t tease me, Sannie, you know it’s not like that. It’s just that there’s usually dating involved. I’ve never slept with anyone I wasn’t at least casually dating.”

“Date him then,” San simply replied but Wooyoung shook his head. “Way too time consuming. She wants a quick fix, not a slow-burn romance. Take this as a learning opportunity, y/nnie.”

“Well, then teach me! What do I do?”

“Oh? Teach me?” San said with a smirk, “That’s kinda hot.”

“I gotta agree, but we’re getting off topic here.” Wooyoung fished a pretzel stick out of the glass on the table and took a bite of it before he continued, “So, the important thing is to show him you’re interested. But don’t make it romantic, you don't want a coffee invite."

"Actually I wouldn't mind a coffee—"

"Yeah, and you can have your coffee—after taking care of how fucking pent-up you are." He let the rest of his pretzel stick disappear into his mouth, still chewing as he continued, "He’s your physiotherapist, there’s gotta be plenty of chances for him to get his hands on you. Just subtly let him know you really like it.”

“Yeah,” San agreed, before coming back to his initial advice: “Just go for it.”

For your last appointment he sent you to room number 4, the one with the mirror and the yoga mats and other equipment that you knew all too well. After last week's session you found yourself filled with disappointment. For a moment you stood in the doorway, until Yunho came over, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Not going in?”

San’s words were ringing in your head: Just go for it. Wooyoung’s advice on subtlety must have gotten lost on you though, but who was Wooyoung to give that advice anyway?

“Uhm, I was thinking—you know I’m feeling kind of tired today…” You trailed off, your eyes darting over to room number 2, where the ajar door revealed the massage table.

He met your words with a chuckle. “Are you saying you want a massage for our last appointment? Did you like it that much?”

“It just seemed to really help with my sore spots…”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his arms crossed in front of his body thoughtfully, “I do think we should go through the exercises I taught you at least once—to make sure you remember them correctly and can do them at home. Don’t want you coming back here in another three weeks.”

“You don’t want me to come back?”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a moment there before he let out a chuckle, “Not if it means you’re in pain again.”

“Didn’t you say it’s okay if it hurts a little?”

He shook his head in disbelief, “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere here, so let’s make a compromise—first a quick run down of the exercises and then for the remaining time you can get on the table for me, hm?”

Get on the table for me. You tried not to think anything of the words he’d chosen, tried not to let your brain warp them until they held a different meaning altogether, but it was hopeless. The worst part was, that you couldn’t help feeling like he was doing this on purpose, reveling in the way your gaze turned feverish and your cheeks flushed red with heat.

The quick run down was almost agonizing. He did keep his promise to make it short, but every time he stepped into your personal space to fix your posture, you felt your skin tingling with anticipation and need. When you finally, finally went over to room 2, you were more than ready to skip the massage and go for other activities instead. You pulled yourself together though, and did not jump him the moment he closed the door. Instead, you took off your shirt and laid down on the table like last time. Yunho sat at the head end once more, working his magic on your neck and shoulders. When he moved his hands a little further down your back, they briefly got caught on your bra.

“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice calm and smooth.

You bit your lower lip. This seemed like a pretty good chance, didn’t it?

“You can take it off, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

He halted for a moment, and maybe if you could see his face you’d be able to read his expression, but with your eyes facing the floor you were stuck wondering what he was thinking.

“Are you sure?” Yunho asked after a moment and there was something in his voice that made it feel like his question wasn’t just about the massage.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It only took a second for him to unhook your bra, the fabric falling to the side of your body. His fingers seemed to trace the place where it’d sat, maybe following the light imprints it’d left behind.

“You have pretty skin,” he said eventually, his voice just a whisper.

“Yeah?” Your heart was racing in your chest with nerves and anticipation of what could possibly happen.

“Yeah,” his index finger gently wandered over your spine, “It feels nice to touch.”

“It feels nice when you touch me, too.”

He hesitated for a moment and the brief silence was killing you. “I could do it more,” he finally said.

“I’d like that.”

“Turn around for me?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you immediately turned to lay on your back, losing your bra along the way. The moment you were facing up, he leaned down, crashing his lips into yours. The angle was kind of awkward with the way you were technically upside down from his point of view, but neither of you seemed to really care as you devoured each other in a kiss you’d been anticipating for weeks.

When he eventually pulled away, both of you breathless, there was a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Isn’t this kind of like spiderman?” he asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I didn’t know my hot physiotherapist was a nerd.”

“So, I’m hot?”

You rolled your eyes before your hand reached out to pull him close again, “Aren’t we kinda past that?”

“Right,” he grinned into your lips, “I guess so.”

He kissed you again before he pulled away to get up from his chair, the angle too awkward to really touch, and he was dying to get his hands all over you. You sat up on the table, letting your legs dangle off one side, and he swiftly moved to stand between them, caging you in with his hands on either side of your hips.

“We’re the only ones here, right?” you asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” he pecked the corner of your mouth before kissing his way to your jaw and then down to your collar bone, “Mingi left a while ago and the cleaning staff only comes in the morning.”

“Good,” you leaned back and tilted your neck to give him more access, reveling in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

His hands moved to your body, one of them keeping you steady as the other tugged at the hem of your jeans. “Can we take this off?”

You nodded a little too quickly, your hands immediately flying to the button to help him undo it.

“So eager,” he commented with that smug smile of his before he helped you drag the pants off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let his thumb lightly rub over the thin and embarrassingly wet fabric, smile growing wider as you let out a little whimper. “Why do I feel like you haven’t been focusing on treatment at all and were instead thinking of—” he flicked his thumb over your clothed clit, “something else?”

“I couldn’t help it,” you whimpered, “not my fault your hands are—like that.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you whimpered once more when his long fingers started to run over your folds, pushing aside your panties to touch you directly, “sexy.”

“They are sexy? Like, when I fix your posture? Or give you a massage?,” he asked, leaving more bites and kisses on your neck, “Or when I do this?” He slipped one of his fingers into you without warning, making you gasp in surprise.

“Yeah,” you pressed out, your mind starting to lose focus as he was moving inside of you, “it’s sexy.”

“That’s good to hear,” he whispered into your skin before adding a second digit and curling them inside of you. You arched off the table at the sensation of it, your body instinctively trying to get away from the intense feeling, but his other hand on your hip kept you in place. He gradually increased his pace, his fingers mercilessly abusing the sensitive spots inside of you and you were already feeling like you were losing your mind. When he moved his thumb back to your clit, applying just the right kind of pressure, you snapped almost immediately, your high washing over you in a sudden and intense wave. Yunho wasn’t letting up quite yet though, still working his skillful hands and prolonging your orgasm until the over sensitivity made you whine. When he finally pulled away, he looked at his fingers for a moment, admiring your glistening juices on them before he licked them clean one by one.

“That was nice,” he said with a smile, as if you had just done him a service and not the other way round. Still, you agreed with a hazy nod.

He pulled your panties back into place before leaning in for a kiss. “How about I take you out for a coffee sometime?”

“So, uh, what if I don’t want to just fuck him?”

“Weren’t we over this?” Wooyoung took a sip of his beer, before your words really registered, “Wait, are you saying you have feelings for him?!”

“I—I don’t know, he’s just—” you dropped your face onto the table with a sigh, “he’s just so charming.”

"See?" San said with a triumphant grin, "So much for a quick fix."

“Well, then I hope you at least got his number.”

Now a smile spread on your lips, too, “I even got that coffee invite.”

masterlist | pls consider reblogging if you enjoyed this~

#teeheehee #I like this #short and sweet #and sexy

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

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Ehehehe I like this a lot

#kevin moon #the boyz #fan art

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

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Ooh handsome man

(Yugyeom) "Python" 250124 Music Bank

#me when men are handsome #lol #yugyeom #got7

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uhhkpop · 5 months ago

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sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

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uhhkpop · 6 months ago

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Genre: smut Words: 4.882 Prompt: fratboy Sunwoo x fem. reader

Warnings: sub Sunwoo, dom reader, cameo of drunk Eric, oral (m & f receiving), unsafe sex, under-negotiated kink, marking (hickeys), cum eating (m), subdrop (kind of), aftercare, Sunwoo is very needy, Sunwoo is a good boy, Sunwoo goes sort of non-verbal he's so fucked out

A/N: After the most stressful 3 days of my entire life (this is a joke), I present to you: THIS. I don't know how this happened, I just looked at Sunwoo and it awoke something within me.

Special thanks to my cheerleader @starlitmark who always had great words of encouragement and got me through this <3

Not betaed - rip.

You didn’t quite remember how you got here - One moment you were admiring the plush lips of a guy with an almost boyish charm from across the living room of a frat house, the music so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts, only to be roped into playing spin the bottle by your friend Eric to then be locked away in the pantry for seven minutes with said guy with plush lips minutes later.

“I didn’t quite catch your name,” you broke the slightly awkward silence between the two of you in the dark room after Eric’s cackling had died down once he had locked the door. “Sunwoo,” he answered and judging by the sound, he took another swing from his beer. Your eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the darkness, so you were only really able to see his silhouette leaning against the cabinet.

“You haven’t done this before, right?” You giggled as you inched closer to him, carefully slotting your body against his so you wouldn’t startle him. “We have seven minutes in here,” Sunwoo replied, his breath hitching when you took the can of beer from his hand and carelessly put it on one of the shelves so you could place his hand on your waist instead. “Mhmm,” you hummed and placed your hands on his chest to feel his muscles beneath the damned compression shirt he was wearing, “It’s probably just five-ish minutes left by now.” “Then we should make use of that time,” he concluded, tightening his grip on your waist before leaning in, his breath fanning over your lips but never connecting them, giving you an out if you didn’t want to.

But oh - how did you want to know how his plush lips felt on your body.

“Yeah, we should,” you agreed before closing the gap between you in a gentle kiss to his pillowy soft lips. The first few kisses were almost chaste, both of you just testing the waters but when Sunwoo let out a little sigh, a shiver rolled down your spine and you just had to gently sink your teeth into his lower lip. “Fuck,” he cursed, one of his hands finding your jaw so he could angle it to deepen the kiss as well as pushing you harder against his body so you could feel his heart hammering inside his chest.

When he licked at the seam of your lips, you easily opened up for him, matching his hunger for more, greedy to lick the cheap beer from his tongue. Enticed by the little sounds of pleasure Sunwoo let out, you let your hands roam his body, mapping out the strong build of his muscles before burying your hands in his thick hair and pulling.

With a gasp and a wet smack of your lips, you broke the kiss, both of you panting loudly. Now that your eyes had adjusted to the dark, the small strip of light coming from beneath the door was enough to see how wet and swollen Sunwoo’s lips had become and how you had destroyed his meticulously styled hair. He looked - for a lack of a better word - thoroughly fucked out already which made you dizzy with power. The high-pitched whine he let out when he tried to kiss you again but you held him back with the grip you still had on his hair only aroused you further, a dark chuckle slipping past your lips.

“Say please,” you whispered right against his lips. “Please,” Sunwoo immediately repeated, his voice small and needy and his eyes pleading. “Good boy,” you praised him, swallowing the moan that ripped from his throat with another filthy kiss, not a care in the world about how sloppy the kiss turned with both of your neediness. Neither of your hands could stay still, tugging on your clothes, raking through your hair, trying to get the other to release more sounds of pleasure.

You were so close to unbuckling his belt there and then, already addicted to how his skin felt beneath your fingertips when the door to the pantry suddenly burst open and a slightly more drunk than before Eric loudly yelled “Yooooo, time’s up, lovebirds” while he obnoxiously wiggled his eyebrows.

Slowly you pulled your hands from beneath Sunwoo’s shirt, keeping your nails on his skin in hopes of getting another reaction out of him but he was frozen in place, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Hey,” you gently called out to him, taking a step back.

“Bro, no way,” Eric suddenly burst out laughing which was what finally got Sunwoo to move, a deep blush spreading on his cheeks. Before you could grasp what was happening, he pushed past you and out of the pantry, shoving a still giggling Eric out of the way.

“What was that about?” You asked, still confused. “Bro,” Eric began, wrapping an arm around you and heavily leaning his weight onto you, “Dude, he got hard from just a little making out.” “You’re drunk.” “Dude, I know what a boner looks like.” “So you enjoy looking at other men’s crotches and their boners?” That made Eric sputter and choke on his own spit. “That’s not-“ “But that’s what it sounded like,” you singsonged, plucking his drink from his hands and dunking the contents into the kitchen sink. He had enough for now.

“Bro, I’m just telling you-“ “So what? I could probably get you hard in less than seven minutes as well.” To that, Eric didn’t have a proper rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing like he was a fish out of water.

“Now tell me, which room is his?”

Up where the guys’ rooms were, the music wasn’t as loud as it was downstairs, only the heavy bass permeating the walls and floor. Without knocking, you opened the last door to the left which Eric had let you know led to Sunwoo’s room. To his luck, he hadn’t been lying and Sunwoo was lying on his messy bed, staring at the ceiling, only looking up when he heard the lock of the door clicking shut.

“Guests are not supposed to be up here,” he simply said with a monotone voice, turning his dark eyes back to the ceiling, “There’s a sign at the stairs.” “I saw. I can leave if you want me to.”

But Sunwoo never told you to leave - as a matter of fact - he didn’t say anything. Giving him time to sort out what was going on inside his head, you looked around his room. It was nothing special albeit tidier than you had expected from a fratboy. Before you could snoop and figure out what books were scattered over his desk between a half-eaten bowl of ramen, Sunwoo sat up on his bed, planting his feet on the little rug next to it.

“I-“ he started but didn’t follow through, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. “Take your time,” you tried to encourage him, closing the distance between you to stand between his legs so you could tilt his chin up to meet his beautiful eyes. For a little while you got lost in each other’s eyes before Sunwoo broke the eye contact to study his jeans instead, picking at some loose threads.

“Hey,” you called him out gently, placing your hand on his cheek to guide his face to look up at you again. With a deep sigh, words finally tumbled from Sunwoo’s lips: “Listen, I’m sorry for running. I just- I got embarrassed. Like who gets hard just from some kissing?” Despite his clear frustration with himself and being embarrassed, Sunwoo leaned into your touch, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“I’d be more offended if you didn’t,” you admitted softly, gently caressing his face. At that, Sunwoo’s eyes shot wide open. “What?” “I liked what happened down there too,” you simply said in lieu of an answer as you straddled his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. “I think I like you,” you added with a sultry lilt in your voice, “And how you react to me.”

To prove your point, you moved your thumb to Sunwoo’s lips, gently putting pressure until he parted them to take your thumb in his mouth and to curl his tongue around the digit, never breaking the heavy eye contact.

“Just like that,” the praise easily fell from your lips when he let his mouth fall open as you pressed down on his tongue. “What are you doing to me?” He whispered once his mouth was free again. “Anything you want me to,” you promised, carding your other hand through his hair to gather the locks at the back to force his head back, giving you a gorgeous view of his stretched-out neck that begged to be decorated by your kisses.

Leaning in, you heard Sunwoo suck in a breath through his teeth that he released shakily when you pressed your lips to his fluttering pulse, slowly connecting it to his jaw and to his ear with a row of kisses.

“What do you want?” You rasped. “Kiss me?” “Say it with please.” “Kiss me please.”

This time, there was no build-up. No testing the waters or chaste kisses leading up to more open-mouthed kisses. No, this time, your lips met with desperation from the get-go and Sunwoo greedily swallowed the surprised sound you let out before you were able to match his pace, using the grip you still had on his hair and a hand on his jaw to steady yourself, very thankful that he had your waist in a vice-grip so you wouldn’t topple over.

“You drive me crazy,” he rasped when you parted for air, nudging your head back so he could lick a filthy stripe up your jaw before he nipped at your skin, not quite hard enough to leave lasting marks but the promise alone was enough to have your head spinning. “You can mark me,” you sighed and pushed Sunwoo’s bangs from his eyes in a way too tender manner so you could see them widen in shock before they fell closed again when he busied his mouth with sucking hickeys into your skin.

Letting your hands roam again, you slipped them beneath his tight shirt to feel his skin again, raking your nails down the divots of his abs. You could feel his groan more than you actually heard it, muffled against the skin of your throat. “Get this thing off,” you demanded, grabbing the edge of his shirt and wrestling it over his head, revealing miles of smooth skin and collar bones that were simply made to sink your teeth into. “You too,” Sunwoo whispered, adding a desperate “please” when you didn’t immediately do so.

“Good boy,” the praise dripped from your lips like the sweetest honey so you could revel in the shudder that went through Sunwoo at the pet name. With a confident grin on your face, you pulled your shirt over your head as well, leaving you in just your bra. “Beautiful,” Sunwoo mumbled absent-mindedly, his hands hovering in the air before he put them on your waist again, squeezing as if to remind himself that you were real. “Yeah, you are,” you agreed, pressing your palm flat to the middle of his chest to push him back down onto the mattress. Before he could protest, you pressed a kiss to his sternum, slowly making your way up his chest, only shortly getting sidetracked by the subtle muscle.

Despite your efforts, none of Sunwoo’s heavenly sounds of pleasure reached your ears, so when you checked on him, you saw that he had buried his teeth in his bottom lip to muffle his sounds.

“Let me hear you,” you asked softly, pressing a kiss just over his heart. “It’s embarrassing,” he whined, hiding his face in his hands. “It’s not,” you promised, straightening up so you could kiss his hands to coax them away from his face, “I like hearing what makes you feel good.” “I- I like- Mark me? Just not-“ “Not where everyone can see?” You finished the sentence for him. “Mhm,” he nodded, “Words are hard.” “Yeah?” You couldn’t help but giggle fondly, so endeared by Sunwoo’s way of speaking in pout that you had no choice but to kiss him again, softer this time. “Squeeze my hand then. Once for yes and twice for no,” you suggested, intertwining your fingers with his that he immediately squeezed once.

Swallowing down the urge to coo at him, you instead pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips, teasing him when he chased after the feeling with a quick peck.

Ignoring his displeased grumbling, you instead kissed from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw, his throat and his collarbones where you finally gave in to the urge to bite him. And finally, you got to hear Sunwoo moan again. Little sighs and deep groans blurred together in a beautiful symphony as you decorated his skin in red and purple petals in the shape of your lips. “Please,” he pressed out when you finally let up to admire your handiwork, meanly pressing your thumb into a particularly dark spot right beneath his collarbone just to hear his breath hitch and make him squirm beneath you, which in turn shifted your attention to another area when he started rolling his hips against your body.

“Right here?” You asked sickenly sweet as you let your hand trail down his torso, playfully tapping his belt before cupping him over his pants. Instead of answering or squeezing your other hand for a yes, Sunwoo instead rolled his hips up harder, his mouth hanging open and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Should we take these off?” This time, Sunwoo seemed to remember what you had established as a yes and he immediately squeezed your hand hard. “Yeah?” You giggled, earling another squeeze and a pleading look from his big, dark eyes. “Okay,” you mouthed, letting go of his hand so you could make quick work of his belt and pull his jeans as well as his briefs off of his narrow hips.

The moment his clothes hit the floor, Sunwoo was already squirming, his hips chasing friction that was no longer there. “So needy,” you smiled, trailing your fingers from his knees to the inside of his toned thighs, feeling how the muscles worked beneath the skin to not close his legs. “Good boy.” Sunwoo only responded to the praise with another needy whine, his hips lifting off the bed. Smiling, you crawled back up the bed, keeping your eyes on his pleading ones as you pressed your lips to the skin of his pelvis, right next to where his cock lay hard against his skin.

With scrambling hands, Sunwoo interlaced your fingers again, squeezing them tightly. “Try to stay still for me, okay?” You asked with another kiss, this time near the base of his cock which ripped another groan from his lips, sounding almost frustrated. But nevertheless, he squeezed your hand again once and that was all the confirmation you needed to lick a stripe from the base of his cock all the way up to the flushed and glistening tip, welcoming the tangy taste of his precum on your tongue.

“Pleeease, please, please,” Sunwoo whispered almost like a mantra, his head thrown back and his dark hair fanned out around him like some sort of tainted halo.

With a fond smile on your lips, you squeezed his hand once before taking the sensitive tip between your lips, reveling in the low moan Sunwoo let out. Slowly you took in more of his length, building up a torturous rhythm and keeping your cheeks hollowed on the upstroke, never forgetting to pay extra attention to the head of his cock: Running your tongue along the crown or toying with the slit until the taste of precum was strong on your tongue.

“More, please. Faster. I- I need-“ With an obscene pop, you let Sunwoo’s cock fall from your lips and let it slap against his skin with a wet sound. “Please,” he pleaded again when you didn’t say anything, simply enjoying the power you had over him as you traced a vein on the underside of his cock before rubbing your pointer finger around the head. “More?” “Wanna cum,” Sunwoo pouted and gods did he look both adorable and like sin personified. “And what about me, hm?” You asked lowly, climbing up the bed so you could see eye to eye again and watch how his blown-out eyes widened.

Just when you thought he was about to blurt out an apology, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, stroking him in a tight fist and effectively shutting him up, broken moans tumbling past his lips instead of words.

“Hm? Baby? What about me?” “Any- Hah- Anything- Fuck- Anything you want,” Sunwoo managed to press out between sounds of pleasure as you quickened your pace, twisting your palm around the sensitive head before stroking his length again. “You think you can fuck me, baby? Make me cum on your cock?” Forgoing his words again, Sunwoo just squeezed your hand again and vigorously nodded his head. “Are you sure?” You teased, halting in your movements to jerk him off. “Show me, baby. Show me how you’d fuck me.”

With a broken whine and his eyes squeezed shut again, Sunwoo did as you asked, slowly rolling his hips up before he quickened his pace and fucked into your hand with short strokes, chasing the loose friction of your hand. “Inside, please,” he panted, forcing his eyes to meet your heated gaze again, “Want it.”

“Kiss me first,” you demanded and Sunwoo didn’t waste a single second, crashing your lips together and eagerly licking the taste of his own precum from your tongue. While you tried to match his overeager pace, he busied himself with trying to work your pants open and to shimmy them down your legs all while being hellbent on not stopping to kiss you even for a single moment.

“Sunwoo,” you giggled fondly when he let out a frustrated growl because he just couldn’t get your pants past your thighs, “Let me.” With a tender kiss, you leaned back just enough that you could wiggle free from your pants and panties which were probably ruined at this point by your own arousal. Before your pants even hit the ground, Sunwoo was all over you again, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your throat while his hands mapped out your body, making quick work of your bra before exploring the newly discovered skin.

Now it was your turn to needily moan while Sunwoo proved that he knew how to do more with his mouth than just kiss and leave marks all over your throat as he gently took your nipple between his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue, rolling the hardened nub against the wet muscle. You were so distracted by how good his mouth felt on your boobs that you got startled when he sneaked a hand between your legs. “I’m sorry-“ he tried to apologize but you immediately cut him off. “You just surprised me,” you reassured him and opened your legs for him, “Keep going.” Tentatively, Sunwoo reached down again, his eyes never leaving your face like he was determined to catch every single one of your reactions.

With two fingers, he carefully searched out your wetness, his eyes widening almost comically when he found you basically dripping. “Look what you did to me,” you breathed out, not able to keep your voice from shaking when Sunwoo spread your wetness around further, coating his fingers before he carefully fucked one finger inside you, all the way up until the last knuckle with little to no resistance thanks to how ridiculously turned on you were.

“That’s it,” you urged him on when he slowly moved his finger, keeping it curled in search of your sweet spot. Without you having to say anything, he easily slid in another finger, keeping them buried deep inside for a moment to make you really feel them before he quickened his pace, the squelching of your pussy loud even to your own ears. “Sunwoo,” you needily moaned his name, blindly reaching for his cock to jerk him off again in time with his deep thrusts that had you longing for more and grinding your hips against him. “Need- Want- Inside please,” he stuttered against your lips, desperately trying to not buck into your hand to chase his high that he already felt creeping up on him. “Yeah,” you moaned when he slipped his fingers free to rub your clit in tight circles instead, “On your back, baby.”

Like the absolute dream he was, Sunwoo did as you asked him to, looking like sin personified when he stared deep into your eyes as he brought his fingers up to his lips to suck them clean of your arousal. “Fuck, you’ll be the death of me,” you cursed breathlessly, quickly climbing on top of him. A loud moan fell from your lips when you ground your core against his cock, feeling the heated flesh twitch as you covered him in your arousal. “Please,” Sunwoo slurred around his fingers that he still kept between his lips and who were you to deny him?

Carefully, you held his cock up as you sank down on him, taking him inch by inch until finally your hips met and both of you let out a string of curses. To get a feel for his size, you slowly ground your hips in tight circles, loving how he pressed against your walls perfectly, filling you up just right.

“Don’t cum before I do.” You wished you were able to sound more firm but you were holding onto your sanity by a thread when you lifted your hips again to finally fuck yourself on his cock. You didn’t expect an answer out of Sunwoo and you didn’t get one either besides the punched-out groans he let out whenever your hips met again.

You had planned to build your pace up slowly, to savor the moment, to drag it out as long as you could but the moment Sunwoo met your thrusts and managed to nail your sweet spot, sending a bolt of arousal through your body, it was over for you. Panting into each other’s mouths, you both were desperately chasing your highs, Sunwoo’s hands keeping your waist in a vice grip and your nails leaving indents on his chest and shoulders where you were grasping for purchase to rock back against him harder while your thighs threatened to give out from how good he was fucking you.

“Keep going, keep going, keep going. I’m so close, Sunwoo, please,” you moaned loudly, your orgasm so close you were able to taste it already. A string of curses left Sunwoo’s swollen lips as his thrusts got more erratic and lost their rhythm and you knew he was just as close as you were. You couldn’t help yourself but grab a fistful of his hair to yank his head back so you could bury your teeth low on his throat and that seemed to be all Sunwoo needed to be pushed over the edge: His body going taut as he buried himself inside you as deep as he physically could and a silent moan leaving his parted lips while he painted your inside white.

Despite your first thought was to be annoyed because you had been so close too, you instead clenched around him tightly and slowly rocked your hips to help him ride out his high, stroking his matted bangs from his forehead and leaving tender kisses over his face.

It took a little while before all tension bled from Sunwoo’s body and he loosened the bruising grip he still had on your waist to instead caress your sides as well as your tired thighs. “Good?” You chuckled at the lazy grin that spread over his lips before he opened his eyes. “Mhm,” he only nodded, pulling you down against his body for a deep kiss. The change in position made his softening cock slip from your pussy, causing both of you to cringe. The sudden emptiness and the feeling of his cum dripping out of you only reminded you of the orgasm he stole from you.

Hiding your wicked grin against his skin, you whispered: “So you did leave me hanging after all.” Those few words were enough to startle Sunwoo out of his blissed-out state and you couldn’t help but feel satisfied by the look in his eyes. “You- I-“ “Now, now,” you shushed him with a finger against his lips, “Why don’t you put these to better use, hm?”

Too stunned to speak, Sunwoo simply nodded. Smiling, you pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek before you lifted yourself up on your knees again, shuffling forward until you hovered just over his face. His hands immediately found your hips that he squeezed once before he pulled you down.

The first swipe of his tongue was almost shy but spurred on by your little sighs, he quickly got bolder with his tongue, eagerly cleaning up his release and opening his jaw wide to fuck his clever tongue as deep inside you as it would go.

And just the mental image of Sunwoo licking up his own cum and creating an even bigger mess between your legs in the process had your mind spinning with pleasure and you just had to grab a fistful of his hair again to keep him in place so you could grind against his face, shamelessly chasing your high.

“So close, fuck,” you cursed when your thighs started to tremble and threatened to close around Sunwoo’s head, the pleasure almost too much but also not enough as you grew more and more sensitive with each swipe of his tongue.

With strength you didn’t know Sunwoo had, he stilled your motions to close his lips around your clit instead, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and that combined with a pleading look from his big, dark eyes was enough for your orgasm to finally crash over you. Holding onto Sunwoo’s bed frame for dear life, your thighs shook uncontrollably as you let out strings of curses laced with Sunwoo’s name as you rode out your high on his tongue. “Shit,” you giggled breathlessly once your spirit had reentered your body and gently carded your hands through Sunwoo’s hair who placed one last kiss on your clit before he carefully helped settle you down next to him on the bed.

“You okay?” You whispered after a while, gently tracing the hickeys you had sucked into Sunwoo’s skin. He simply nodded as an answer, interlacing your fingers again to squeeze them. “Are words still hard?” Another squeeze. “That’s okay,” you reassured him and gently kissed his forehead.

“Do you need anything from me?” This time, it took Sunwoo a little longer to respond, his brows furrowing before he squeezed your hand once. “Water?” Two squeezes. “Snacks?” Again, two quick squeezes. “Stay,” he spoke lowly, wrapping his body around yours, “Please.” “Of course,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his hair that you gently combed through with your fingers, massaging his scalp when he began humming in content.

“Feel fuzzy,” he spoke up after a while, his words slurred. “Good fuzzy?” He didn’t answer with a squeeze this time, only shrugging his shoulders. “Was- Was this your first time giving yourself over to someone?” You asked carefully to not scare him with big words in case he had never subbed before. After a bit of debating and his face heating up with an adorable blush, Sunwoo squeezed your body once. “That’s okay, the first time can be a bit scary and disorient-“

“Liked it,” he interrupted you, lifting himself up to look into your eyes, “A lot.” Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop the tender smile from spreading over your lips so you instead pressed it to Sunwoo’s shy smile in a chaste kiss. “I liked it too. A lot,” you echoed his words. “Even if I…?” “I wasn’t mad at you. I was never mad at you,” you said firmly when you caught where he was going with this, holding Sunwoo’s face between your palms so he could not look away, “You did wonderfully. Listened to me so well.”

“Can we- Can we do it again?” “We can talk about it once you’re back here with me,” you giggled, pulling him back down against your chest to cuddle. “Am here,” you just heard him grumble as he tried his best to pull the blanket from below you to cover both your nakedness. “Once your head is not fuzzy anymore,” you clarified, your smile creeping into your voice.

And as you lay there with a pretty boy snuggled up against your chest and the deep bass from the frat party below caught your ears again, you truly wondered how you had ended up in this position tonight. Not that you were mad about it, you really couldn’t think of many places better to be than in Sunwoo’s arms right now, feeling the warmth of his skin sink into yours.

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