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I’m so nosey cuz like self composed music need inspiration and WHO TF HAS JONGSEOB MAKING THIS MUSIC ABOUT??? STUPID LOVE!! AMNESIA!!! WHAT IS GOING ON?!!! I fear I just wanna know and not even in a jealous way in I just wanna know what’s tea fr 🥹
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The humid evening air of the city clung to your skin, a heavy contrast to the sudden blast of air conditioning that hit you the moment you pushed open the heavy glass doors of your current favorite jazz bar.
Inside, tha atmosphere was an entirely different world—dark, sultry, and smelling richly of expensive liquor, polished mahogany, and the faint, sweet scent of citrus. In the far corner of the room, under a single amber spotlight, a live jazz trio was playing a slow, lazy tune, sending a low rhythmic vibration right through the dark floorboards underneath you.
You make your way through the small tables, ignoring the low chatter of couples and friends, and headed straight to the back of the room where the long, dark bar top stretched out. And there he was.
Jongseob was in the middle of preparing a drink, his movements so fluid and precise that it almost looked like choreography. He was wearing his work attire—a sleek black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing veiny, toned forearms that flexed with the movements of his hands.
The top two buttons of his shirt were keft undone, giving you a teasing glimpse of his pale collarbone and the lean expanse of his shoulders. His blonde hair was styled back but a few loose strands fell over his forehead, cathing the light as he tilted his head to focus on the mixing glass in front of him.
You had been coming to this bar for nearly six months. It had started as a coincidence—a quiet place to escape the loud, chaotic energy of your college campus, but it had quickly turned into a routine. A routine that you convinced yourself was built because of the relaxing experience, but quickly centered entirely around the man making drinks behind the counter.
At first, your interactions were purely innocent, and somewhat professional. He was the talented, quiet bartender who always seemed to know exactly what kind of flavor profile you wanted, and you were the quiet customer who preffered sitting at the corner of the bar rather than the intimate tables. But over the months. those short exchanges of "What can I get you?" and "Thanks" slowly turned into something much deeper.
You learned that he was incredibly passionate about music, often staying up working on beats and writing lyrics in his notebook when the bar was slow. He learned that you had a liking for classic, simple drinks, and that you tend to chew on your bottom lip when you were stressed or overwhelmed.
Slowly, the professional boundary started to blur. It was in the way his hand would brush yours just a second too long when he slid your glass across the counter. It was the way you would feel the heat of his fingers brushing against yours. It was in the way his dark, pretty eyes would lock onto yours from across the crowded room, holding the eye contact with a heavy look that made your chest tighten and your pulse race.
You would be lying if you said you haven't thought about him in a non-platonic way before. In fact, those thoughts had been keeling you awake for a couple of nights, your mind reeling with imaginary scenarios that were definitely far from platonic. But you had always brushed it off, to scared to ruin the comfortable, safe dynamic you had built with him over the months.
As you slid onto your usual barstool at the very end of the counter, the ice in an empty glass left by a previous customer clinked softly, your hand pushing it far away from you. Jongseob immediately turned towards the sound, catching his attention and glancing your way before going back to work. He finished pouring a dark liquid into a fancy-looking glass, slid it to the man waiting for it with a polite nod, and turned his full attention to you.
The moment his eyes landed on your form, the professional smile on his face shifted into something much softer, his eyes darkening slightly as his eyes slowly swept down your body, taking in the dress you decided to wear tonight.
"You're late tonight," he murmured, his voice a deep, raspy rumble that cut through the low murmur of the jazz band. He stepped over to your side of the bar, getting rid of the glass in front of you and grabbing a clean cloth to wipe down the moisture sitting on the counter.
Jongseob stood close enough that you could catch the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne—something woody, warm, and sharp, mixed with the sweet scent of the citrus peels that you assumed he used earlier.
"Had to finish a project," you replied, leaning your elbows on the cool wood bar and looking up at him. Your heart did a familiar, frantic flutter in your chest just from the sheer intensity of his gaze. "But I made it before last call."
"I would have stayed open just for you anyway," he said, a lazy smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Jongseob tossed the cloth over his shoulder and rested his hands flat on the bar top, leaning in just enough that your faces were only inches apart. "So, what's the verdict tonight? The usual?"
"Surprise me," you challenged softly, tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes, feeling bolder than usual. "Make me something custom. Something that fits the mood."
Jongseob raised an eyebrow, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before rising back to meet your gaze. "A custom drink? Bold. You know, if you like it, the house rules say you have to stay until I lock up."
"And if I don't?"
"Then your tab is on me, and I'll let you walk out of here untouched," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, turning thick and heavy with an unspoken promise that sent a shiver straight down your spine.
"Deal," you breathed out, your pulse spiking at the challenge.
You watched him work, completely captivated by the vivid sight of him. He reached for a mixing glass, his long, pretty fingers grasping the metal spoon with absolute control. He moved with a quiet confidence, adding a splash of dark, spiced rum, a dash of aromatic bitters, and a squeeze of fresh lime.
Every movement was deliberate, his veiny forearms flexing under the dim light as he stirred the liquid over large, clear ice cubes. When he finally strained the amber liquid into a chilled glass, he expressed a curl of orange peel over the rim, the tiny mist of citrus oil catching the light before he slid the drink over to you.
His fingers deliberately brushed against yours as you took the glass, the brief, warm contact sending a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core. You lifted the glass to your lips and took a slow sip. The flavor was complex—warm, sweet, with a sharp, spicy kick that immediately coated the back of your throat. It was perfect.
"Well?" Jongseob asked, his dark eyes locked on your face, tracking the way your eyes fluttered shut in appreciation. "I guess I'm staying until closing," you murmured, setting the glass down. A satisfied, primal look flashed in his eyes, and he nodded slowly. "Good. Because I've been waiting all night to get you alone."
The next hour passed in a dizzying, slow-motion blur. You slowly sipped on your drink, your eyes tracking Jongseob as he served the remaining customers, his movements efficient but his focus clearly divided. Every few minutes, his gaze snapped back to you, holding your eyes with an intensity that made your skin flush warm beneath your clothes. Your mind was already racing, imagining what would happen once the doors were locked and the lights were turned off.
Finally, the clock struck two. The last of the patrons exited into the cool night air, their voices fading into the distance, and the jazz trio packed up their instruments, bidding Jongseob a quiet goodnight before leaving the bar.
The heavy doors thudded shut, and the lock slid into place with a definitive, heavy click. Jongseob walked over to the main light switch and flipped it, plunging the spacious room into near-total darkness, save for the soft, purple LED strips running along the bar shelves. The dim, colorful glow cast long, deep shadows across the room, making the empty bar feel incredibly intimate, almost suffocatingly small.
He turned around and walked back towards the bar, but instead of going behind it, he stepped out into your space.
Your breath hitched in your throat as he approached. The polite, attentive bartender persona was completely gone, replaced by a predatory confidence that made your chest heave in anticipation. He stopped right between your thighs as you sat on the high barstool, his body towering yours, blocking out the rest of the empty room. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his frame hovering over you in the dim light.
"Now," Jongseob murmured, his voice incredibly raspy as he looked down at you, his chest rising and falling slowly. "Where were we?"
He did not wait for an answer. His hands, cool from handling ice, slid flat against your bare thighs beneath your dress. You let out a sharp, trembling gasp at the sudden, freezing contrast against your overheated skin, your body twitching at the touch. Jongseob's eyes darkened at your reaction, his thumbs smoothing over the soft skin of your inner thighs, slowly gathering the fabric of your dress and bunching it upward, exposing you to his intense gaze.
"Jongseob—" the rest of the sentence was completely stolen from your lips as he leaned down and crashed his mouth against yours. The sudden, bruising warmth of his lips contrasted the chilly air of the bar, sending a violent wave of heat straight to your tummy.
He didn't hold back, his tongue immediately nudging past your teeth to claim your mouth with a frantic, heavy slide. He sucked and nipped aggressively at your bottom lip, his hand flying up to cup the back of your neck, his long fingers tangling firmly into your hair to lock you in place.
Your mind spun, all thoughts of rules, boundaries, and the six months of pining completely shattering all at once in your head. With a sudden, desperate surge of confidence, you fisted your hands into the collar of his black button-up shirt and pulled him closer, smashing your lips back against his and asserting your own hunger.
You felt him smile into the kiss, a low, vibrating growl rumbling against your chest as he relished your sudden dominance. He shifted his weight, his hands sliding up to your hips, his grip bruising as he lifted your entire body off the stool and placed you directly on the cold, polished mahogany bar top.
A loud, messy gasp escaped you as the cold wood made contact with your bare skin, your thighs spreading instinctively to accommodate his body as he stepped deeper between your legs. The contrast of the cold bar beneath you and the burning heat from him pressing against yours was a complete sensory overload, making you feel entirely helpless beneath him.
Jongseob pulled his mouth away just a fraction to breathe, his hot, ragged pants fanning across your flushed cheeks. His dark eyes were completely blown out, looking wild and primal in the purple neon lights.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he rasped, his fingers reaching for the buttons of his shirt. He quickly undid three more, exposing his solid, pale chest, before grabbing your hands and placing them on his warm, wide shoulders. "Touch me, please."
You did not need to be told twice. Your fingers slid over his smooth skin, gripping his shoulders as his mouth dropped to your neck. He bit and sucked aggressively at the sensitive skin right beneath your jaw, making you let out a high, needy whine that echoed loudly in the empty room.
He left a trail of wet, open-lipped kisses down to your collarbone, his breath tickling your reddened skin, making your body grow taut with desperation.
"You're so sensitive, baby," he murmured against your skin, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, pulling it up and leaving you completely exposed. You immediately got to work, taking off your bra and kicking your panties off, throwing the to the side.
His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your bare body, his mouth immediately finding one of your soft nipples. He started sucking aggressively, his tongue teasing the peak until you let out a loud moan, grabbing a fistful of his soft blonde hair and tugging it. The gesture eliciting a deep growl that vibrated right against your chest.
He detached his mouth from your breasts and replaced his lips with his hands, roughly squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your hard nipples between his fingers, your body twitching at the sudden change of sensation.
"F-fuck," you panted, your fingers clamping down and tugging his hair again. Jongseob stared at your face, observing your completely ruined and desperate state.
He reached down, his long, pretty fingers gently parting your slick folds. The second his cool thumb made contact with your swollen clit, a loud, shattered moan broke from your throat, your head tossing back against the dark wood of the bar.
"F-fuck, Jongseob," you cried out, your knees shaking as he began to slide two fingers deep inside your pussy. The tight, wet stretch made your mind go completely blank. He pumped his fingers inside your wet pussy with a fast, ruthless rhythm, the squelching sounds of your arousal mixing with the sound of his heavy breathing.
Your pussy was dripping, soaking his fingers as he curled them to hit the perfect, sensitive spot inside you, making you see stars. Your hips involuntarily bucked and rolled against his hand, chasing the source of pleasure, desperate to reach the edge.
But just as you felt your orgasm building, ready to pull you under, Jongseob suddenly halted all movement. He kept his fingers buried deep inside your pussy, completely still, his thumb resting heavily against your swollen clit.
"Jongseob...please," you sobbed, tears of frustration finally welling up in your eyes and spilling over your cheeks, ruining your makeup. You tried to rock your hips against his hand for more stimulation, but his grip on your waist was ironclad, keeping you completely pinned. "Don't stop, please let me cum."
A slow, devastating smirk pulled at his lips as he looked at your disheveled, desperate state. "You want to cum so badly, pretty? But we haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
He slowly pulled his slick fingers out of your pussy, making you let out a pathetically needy whine. You looked at him in dazed, horny silence as he lifted his wet fingers to his mouth—eyes locking onto yours as he slowly sucked them clean. The sheer dirtiness of the gesture made a fresh wave of wetness gush out of your hole, your mind reeling at how hot the entire situation was.
"You look so beautiful completely undone," Jongseob whispered, his voice dropping to a low, commanding growl as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting his thick, fully erect cock spring free. "But I want to see just how much you want this first."
Before you could process his words, his hands gripped your thighs and spread them wide, pinning you to the edge of the cold mahogany bar. He didn't pull you down to the floor. Instead, he leaned in close—crowding your space until his chest was flush against yours.
He paused, his heavy gaze searching yours, his chest rising and falling heavily. The playful smirk faded, replaced by something deeply intense and grounded.
"I want to watch you make yourself cum for me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, quiet rumble. He tilted your face up gently, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "I want to watch you touch your pussy while you look at me. Is that okay, pretty? Can I watch you do that?"
You swallowed hard, your body shivering in anticipation, and nodded quickly. "Yes... please."
"Tell me, say my name," he whispered, wanting to hear it.
"Yes, Jongseob," you breathed out. "Watch me."
A soft, satisfied hum vibrated in his chest. "Good. You're going to make yourself cum, and you are not going to look away from me for even a second while you do it."
Trembling under the sheer intensity of his gaze, you slowly reached down between your legs. Your fingers were already soaked in your own hot, dripping slick. You found your swollen clit and began to rub it, the wet, messy friction sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
"Yes, just like that," Jongseob rasped, his eyes widening slightly as he stared dead into your eyes, refusing to look down at your hand. He wanted to watch every emotion cross your face. "Look at me. Keep your eyes right on me."
Your face flushed a deep crimson, your chest heaving against his as your fingers moved faster over your clit. You tried to cast your gaze downward, overwhelmed by the raw, exposing heat of the moment, but his grip on your chin tightened just enough to keep you locked in place.
"Ah, ah. Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, his voice dropping an octave. "Let me see how needy you get when you touch yourself. Let me see how much you want my cock."
You let out a broken whine, your hips involuntarily rolling against your own fingers as the tension in your lower stomach wound tighter and tighter. To add more sensation, Jongseob wrapped his large, veiny hand around his own hard dick—slowly stroking the length of his shaft right against your thigh, never once breaking eye contact. The sight of his scrunched face and the rhythm of his hand on his cock made your pussy gush with fresh wetness.
"Jongseob...please, I'm so close," you sobbed, your eyes watering, your vision blurring as you stared into his deep, dark eyes.
"Then cum for me, pretty," he growled, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a bruising, open-mouthed kiss, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes again. "Cum right now. Keep looking at me."
With a desperate, frantic rub of your fingers against your clit, you pushed yourself over the edge. A shattered scream tore from your throat as a massive, pulsing orgasm washed over you, your pussy walls contracting violently around empty air. You shook uncontrollably, your hand dropping away as your eyes dilated, locked onto his in raw vulnerability.
Jongseob let out a deep, guttural groan at the sight of your ruined face, his own breath ragged and desperate. But as you slowly came down from your high, a sudden spark of boldness flared up inside you.
Instead of letting him take over, you reached up and fisted your hands in his collar, hauling him down. "My turn," you breathed against his lips, your voice carrying a sudden, quiet authority. "Sit."
Jongseob’s eyes widened, a sudden, dark shiver running visibly through his body. The commanding, dominant persona instantly melted away, replaced by a breathless, incredibly eager submission. A needy, raspy gasp escaped his throat as he nodded, entirely compliant with his pupils completely blown out.
Jongseob immediately stepped back and sat down on the high barstool right in front of you. He rested his hands flat on the cold mahogany of the bar beside your hips, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wood for support. He looked up at you with completely dilated, desperate eyes, his chest heaving as he waited for your next move.
You slid forward, straddling his lap and aligning his hard, leaking cock with your wet pussy. Holding his intense gaze, you slowly, deliberately lowered your weight, swallowing his entire length in one tight, agonizingly slow stretch.
Jongseob let out a loud, shuddering cry, his hips stuttering upward instinctively to meet you, but he forced himself to stay still under your control.
"Don't move," you commanded softly, leaning down to press a teasing, open-mouthed bite to his collarbone.
"Fuck, baby... please," he groaned, his voice completely wrecked and helpless as you began to slowly roll your hips against his. He squeezed his eyes shut, his head tossing back as you set a brutal, agonizingly slow pace. He was entirely at your mercy, whimpering beneath you as you rode him—his hands twitching against the bar as if desperately wanting to grab you, yet completely bound by your rule.
"Do you like this, Jongseob?" you murmured, tracing his jawline with your fingers.
"God, yes...you're so warm, fuck," he gasped out, his chest rising and falling frantically. "Please, baby, faster. I want to feel you deeper."
You picked up the pace, sliding up and down his thick cock, sending wet, squelching sounds echoing through the quiet bar. Jongseob let out weak, needy groans with every downward stroke, completely unraveled by your dominance.
But as the pleasure coiled tighter in both of your bodies, the switch in him flipped once more. His dark eyes snapped open, blazing with a sudden, returning heat that made your breath catch.
"I can't—I can't take this anymore, pretty," he growled, his voice thick and commanding again. His large hands flew to your waist in a bruising grip, completely halting your movements. "Let me take over, please. I need you."
"Yes, okay," you gasped, completely overwhelmed by the sudden shift. With a low groan, Jongseob lifted your body, placing you flat on your back on the bar top. He spread your legs wide over his shoulders, leaning over your pliant body.
Without waiting, he drove his entire cock back inside you with a fast, ruthless rhythm. His hips slammed hard against your ass, the loud, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy echoing off the empty walls. Every thrust was deep—driving his length into your sensitive spot over and over again.
You clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as he fucked you mercilessly. A shiver went down your body as you felt the coil in your tummy come undone. Your body went taut as you reach your second orgasm, legs shaking violently as your mind became a complete, chaotic blur of pleasure. For a moment, you felt his hot and ragged breath against your neck before he pulled back to gaze down at you again.
"Look at me," he panted, his pace turning frantic, his muscles bulging under the purple neon light as he reached his limit. "I'm going to fill you up, pretty. Look at me."
You forced your heavy eyelids open, meeting his gaze just as he let out a loud moan. Jongseob drove his cock as deep as it could go, his hips locking against yours as he released his cum deep inside your pussy. His body shuddered violently, his head burying in the crook of your neck as he rode out the wave of his release, painting your inner walls warm.
The quiet, steady sound finally registered in your ears as the heavy haze of pleasure slowly cleared.
Jongseob slowly pulled his dick out of you with a soft, wet slip, making you hiss at the sudden overstimulation. You weakly collapsed against the bar top, your cheek resting against the cool wood as your heart rate gradually slowed down.
He didn't let you stay there for long. Smiling softly, he slipped his hands under your arms and carefully lifted you down from the bar, carrying you over to the plush velvet booth in the VIP section. He set you down gently, taking a pack of wet tissues from behind the bar to clean your sticky thighs, his touch incredibly gentle as he tended to your sensitive skin.
He picked up your dress and made you wear it again, making sure it covered you properly before dressing himself up too. Jongseob then slid onto the velvet seat right next to you, pulling you directly into his chest. His shoulders felt warm and solid as you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart.
"I think we should definitely add that custom drink to the permanent menu," Jongseob murmured, his deep voice vibrating against your ear. He wrapped his strong arms securely around your waist, pulling you closer as a lazy, satisfied smirk played on his lips.
You let out a soft laugh, resting your hand over his chest as you looked up at his relaxed face. "Only if I'm the only one allowed to order it."
"Deal," he whispered, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your swollen lips, his thumb gently caressing your hip as the quiet hum of the empty bar wrapped around you both.
author's note: got resurrected from the dead because of bartender jongseob 😵💫 the moment i saw the video of him singing amnesia in the fanmeeting, my mind immediately thought of something to write about lmao. as always, i hope you enjoyed reading this! don't forget to press "♡" and reblog, i really appreciate it! thank you for your ever-growing support for my works!
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everyones talking about jongseob’s amnesia preformance (trust me i’m on my KNEES) but no one’s talking about soul in a dollar store bob wig and a neon pink suit
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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also I don't think parents "these days" are uniquely terrible, I just think neglect is showing up in new ways as technology progresses. today's ipad kid would've been wandering around in a ditch alone all day and night before. parents not wanting to have to deal with children is not a new phenomenon.