#jongin drabble

“Jongin, stop!”

Your voice broke the air, and his fist froze mid-motion. When he turned to look at you, the adrenaline in his eyes faded, replaced by a flickering realization as he finally registered the look of pure disappointment on your face. Jongin glanced down at what he’d done—the guy slumped on the floor, blood blooming from his nose, too exhausted and beaten to even keep pace with the fight anymore.

“Man, what did you do!?” he heard from someone else who helped the guy on the floor. 

You didn’t wait for an explanation. You turned and bolted, escaping the campus as fast as your legs could carry you, desperate to get away from him.

Jongin realized the moment he saw you run that he had broken the one promise that mattered. He tried to catch you before you left the school grounds, but you were already gone. 

It wasn’t until later that evening that he showed up at your place, his shame trailing behind him like a shadow.

“Babe… it’s me.” The sound of his knuckles against your front door was hesitant. When you didn’t reply, he knocked again.

“Go away!” Your voice was thick with anger.

Jongin froze on the other side. “Love, please,” he urged, his voice strained. “Just listen to me once.” You could almost hear him dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “I promise I’ll leave if you don’t want to see me, but please… just once.”

Promises. That was the problem.

You had every intention of keeping that door locked, but a stubborn part of you softened. You sighed before finally pulling the door open, stepping back to give him just enough space to enter.

“Ten minutes,” you said firmly.

Jongin looked stunned, but he didn’t argue. He stepped inside, searching your eyes as he struggled to find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. The rawness in his tone forced you to look at him. “I know I fucked up. I know I told you the fighting was over, that I was done being impulsive.”

“Then why was there blood on your knuckles today, Jongin?” you asked, your voice rising despite yourself. “Why?”

“Because…” Jongin looked like he wanted to punch the wall, but instead, he curled his fingers into his palms. “He was talking about you… he said things... disgusting things about what he wanted to hook you up. I couldn’t just stand there.”

“I can defend myself,” you snapped. “I’ve been doing it long before you came along. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I did it because you’re my girl, and… I love you.” He stepped closer, his shadow looming over you.

His shoulders slumped. Jongin could definitely face an entire crowd with his fists up, but he couldn’t survive a single day without you. You were the only person in the world who could disarm him without trying.

Jongin reached for your hands, his touch surprisingly gentle. “When he said your name, I just... I couldn’t handle the thought of him disrespecting you.”

You looked down at his hands. “The promise wasn’t just about the fighting, Jongin.” You finally met his gaze. “I trusted that you were better than that.”

“I am,” he urged, squeezing your fingers. “With you, I am.”

You didn’t pull your hands away from his, but you kept them limp. “Jongin...” Your heart ached at the sight of the cut on his lip and the red mark on his cheekbone, but you forced yourself to stay cold.

His grip on your hands tightened just a fraction. “You’re the only good in my life, and the thought of someone even thinking they could lay a hand on you or speak your name like that…”

“I don’t need a protector,” you muttered, pulling one hand free to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You stepped back, leaning against the kitchen counter to put more distance between you. “How am I supposed to trust you’ll stay calm next time?”

Jongin followed you, but stopped a few feet away, respecting the boundary you’d drawn. He looked utterly defeated. “You’re right.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes shimmering with a sudden, raw vulnerability. “But you have to believe one thing.”

He stepped into your space then, closing the gap until he was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his chest. He didn’t grab you; instead, he lowered his head, resting his forehead against your shoulder in a gesture of absolute surrender.

“I could fight a hundred guys like him,” he breathed into the fabric of your shirt, his voice muffled and trembling. “But I can’t fight you. If you tell me to leave now and never come back… I’ll do it, because I can’t stand being the reason you’re unhappy.”

You felt the tension in your shoulders begin to crumble; his entire body was shaking. For Jongin, his pride was everything—and he was laying it all in the dust just for a chance to stay.

You didn’t say a word. Rising up on your tiptoes to close the distance, you cupped his face and met his lips with a soft, deep, and agonizingly slow kiss. Then, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him into you.

Jongin’s arms wound around your waist instantly, his large hands splaying across your back, drawing you flush against his chest. He let you take the lead, his body sagging with a relief so profound it was almost heavy. He followed your rhythm, losing himself in the quiet safety of your touch.

Suddenly, he let out a sharp hiss of pain, his breath hitching against your mouth. The adrenaline that had carried him through the fight had finally vanished, leaving behind the stinging reality of the cut on his lip.

You pulled back just an inch, cupping his face with both hands. As you looked at him, the softness in your eyes sharpened into a look he knew all too well—the one that told him exactly how reckless and foolish he’d been.

“That hurt, didn’t it?” you whispered, your thumbs brushing just beside the bruise on his jaw.

Jongin looked down at you, still reeling from the kiss. He nodded, feeling embarrassed. “But don’t worry… I know it’s my fault.”

You didn’t even let him finish his sentence. Instead, you caught his hand and led him toward the sofa. He followed you silently and compliantly as you pushed him down into the cushions.

“Stay,” you commanded softly before turning to retrieve the first-aid kit.

When you returned, you climbed onto his lap, settling there with the kit balanced between you. The sudden proximity made his breath hitch; he looked utterly embarrassed, his gaze dropping as if he couldn’t quite handle how small he felt under your focused attention.

As you pulled out the antiseptic, you started the lecture. “You realize how many times we’ve had this conversation, right?” you murmured, your voice firm but low. You dipped a cotton pad in the solution and pressed it against the cut on his lip.

Jongin hissed, his entire body tensing as he nearly shut his eyes against the sting. His hands reached out instinctively, bunching the fabric of your hoodie in his fists, gripping it as if it were a lifeline. He didn’t pull away, though. He stayed perfectly still, letting you work even as he winced. You caught the way he was clinging to you, and a small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips, which he didn’t see.

“You’re lucky it didn’t need stitches.” You moved the cotton to the bruise on his cheekbone. “What am I supposed to do with you, Jongin?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice muffled.

When the last of the blood was cleaned away and the ointment was applied, you finally set the kit aside. You cupped his face, tilting his head up until he had no choice but to look at you. Then, you gave him a tiny, gentle peck on his forehead. Then another on his nose. And finally, one on his chin, avoiding the sore spot on his lip.

Under your touch, the last of his defensive walls crumbled. Jongin let out a long, shaky exhale and leaned into your palms, looking up at you with raw, searching eyes.

“Are you… still angry?” His voice was barely audible.

You looked at him for a long beat, then gave a slow, honest nod. “Of course.”

His face fell for a fraction of a second, but you didn’t move away. You weren’t going to lie to him, but you were also certain that you didn’t want him out of your life. Not tonight.

“Your boyfriend’s a dumb, mmh? I... I’m sorry, love.”

As your fingers began to comb through his hair, the tension finally left his body. Jongin loved the rhythmic slide of your fingers against his scalp, the quiet comfort, and the fact that… you were still there.

“Come on,” you said softly, shifting your weight. “Let’s go to bed.”

He opened his eyes wide. “You sure?” he asked softly. “I don’t... I don’t wanna bother you. I know I messed up.”

You met his gaze. “No more fighting, Jongin. Never or it’s over. For real this time.”

“For real,” he promised. The way he squeezed you in his arms made you believe him. “Shall I?” he asked, holding you closer. 

When you nodded, Jongin simply smiled and took you in his arms. He finally took you to bed, feeling completely safe in your arms, knowing this time he won’t disappoint you again.

⟢ #1 jongin

1000%. that man would thrive off watching you watch yourself, eyes locked on the mirror while he’s absolutely wrecking you. he’d whisper in your ear, voice all deep and raspy, telling you to keep your eyes open, to see how good you look taking him. he’d smirk when you try to look away, grabbing your chin and making you face your reflection again, telling you, "nah, baby, i want ya to see exactly how pretty you look falling apart for me." like. pls. he’d have one hand gripping your waist, the other on your throat, making sure you don’t look away, his eyes flickering between your flushed, wrecked expression in the mirror and the way your body moves against his.

"ya see how perfect you look taking me?" he'd growl against your ear, slow, deliberate thrusts forcing you to keep your eyes locked on the mirror.

his stamina is insane. he’ll have you cumming over and over again, dragging you through wave after wave of pleasure until you’re literally shaking.

he loves making you watch your own expressions. it’s not just about the physical—he wants to break you mentally too, making sure you see yourself unravel, see how much you crave him.

if you try to close your eyes? he’s tilting your chin up, a smirk on his lips. "nah, baby. you’re not missing a second of this."

he drags pleasure out, makes you feel every inch, every thrust, and when you’re so overstimulated you’re tearing up, he’ll kiss the tears off your cheeks, telling you how good you are for him. an absolute fucking menace. an addicting one.

⟢ #2 baekhyun

been sayin' this shit since day fucking one but baekhyun is the definition of a bratty dom 😭 he loves seeing you flustered, loves making you blush, but he also loves wrecking you. he’s all about control, and that mirror? his playgroundddd

"look at you," he’d purr, eyes flickering between your reflection and where your bodies meet. "so desperate for me, huh?"

he’s so expressive during sex, groaning, smirking, letting out those breathy little laughs when you whimper his name. he thrives off teasing you.

he’ll edge you to the brink of insanity, make you watch as he slows down at the worst moments, just to hear you whine for him. "aww, ya wanna cum? beg for it, pretty. tell me how bad ya need it."

he lives to make you see how thoroughly he’s ruining you—one hand around your throat, the other trailing between your legs, fingers playing with your swollen clit just to make you squirm.

he loves fucking you in front of a full-length mirror, whispering dirty things in your ear, telling you how wrecked you look, how hot you are like this. if you get shy, he eats that up.

he’s the type to smirk at your reflection the entire time, making sure you feel every single second of it. and when you’re a writhing mess beneath him? oh, he’s so proud of himself. "did so well for me, baby. look at that, all fucked out and pretty."

⟢ #3 sehun

this lil shit is so fucking mean 😭 like he’s not soft, he’s not gentle... AT ALL. he’s intense, dominant, and relentless. he gets off on control, on making you squirm, and that mirror? his favorite tool to remind you who’s in charge.

"ya wanna look away? then i’ll just have to fuck you harder." and he does. brutally.

his grip is bruising. he’ll hold your chin, your throat, your waist, making sure you watch everything. he’s ruthless, making you see how your body reacts to him.

if you look away, he punishes you. he stops moving, or worse—he pulls out entirely, making you beg for him before he even thinks about giving you what you need.

he’ll mock you, degrade you, praise you all at once. "look at that. you’re soaking for me. you like watching yourself get ruined, don’t you?"

he makes sure you see everything—his cock sliding in and out of you, the way your legs shake, the way your mouth falls open when he hits that spot just right.

sehun fucks with precision. he loves control, loves owning your pleasure, and when you’re on the verge of passing out from overstimulation, he’ll chuckle, stroking your cheek, "too much? poor baby... but you can take more, right?"

Maybe that was it, maybe your sex life has been so dull and bland since that night that you needed the darkness that came with him.

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste,” Jongin says in a deep voice, a low baritone that sends shivers right to your core. “I remember how sweet you sounded as you came around my fingers, how you begged for more like it was the air you breathed.” He’s naked in all his glory and you try to rub your thighs together for friction – only to remember he’s got your ankles tied too, legs spread apart. His hands trace along your body until he stands next to you, one hand massaging your breast while the other strokes his solid cock. 

“Y-you remember me?” You don’t know why you’re surprised by this but you had assumed that he would have forgotten you in the midst of all his other exploits.

Nodding his head, he wets his lips, “you never forget your first.” He chuckles when your eyes widen, “you’re the only one to ever escape. The one who got away.” Jongin moves his hand down to your core, watching your face as you anticipate the stretch from his fingers. “Such a desperate little whore, aren’t you?” A warmth spreads across your face at the way he says those words, degrading but said with such a softness that you aren’t offended – it turns you on even more. “Why’d you come back?”

Those are the words that you are wondering yourself, the words that you are thinking at this very moment as fingertips tease along your hips and have you trying to encourage him lower. You could tell him the one reason that you’ve figured out, that you want to see stars once more but anyone could do that right? Anyone who is open and willing to indulge you could have your body grow limp as you shudder beneath them but… “I can’t stop thinking about you…”

Jongin barks out a harsh laugh as his fingers unexpectedly push into your dripping core. It’s amusing how wet you are, how easy you are when you’ve been through this and know how this will end. “So eager and willing to give yourself up for one night of pleasure?” He curls his fingers and presses them against your g-spot, giving you no time to relish in the feeling as he gives you what you’ve been wanting. Craving. “You’d let me do anything I want to you, wouldn’t you? My sweet little slut, so messed up that you think fucking the man who tried to kill you once is the only way to feel good.” His words are spoken like he’s talking to a loved one but the words themselves hit you in a way that you cannot describe.

You should hate it but you can’t. You shouldn’t want this but you do. It shouldn’t make you want more but fuck, you’re crying out for it as he has you on the edge of your first orgasm.

“Pathetic.” He scoffs, pulling his fingers from you and smirking as your eyes open in disbelief, body trying hard to tip over the edge without the previous stimulation. He brings those fingers to his lips as he tastes you, humming pleasantly as he remembers your first time together. “You are as sweet as I remember.”

Maybe he won’t kill you afterwards, the thought crosses his mind as he looks down at you and thinks about how he’ll never be able to get his fill again if he does. Maybe he won’t kill you but he’s certainly not letting you go again.

Not that you want him to.

a/n: hii it’s archie! the prompt in question is currently in the works and I’m super excited to finish this fic! it’s heavily inspired by Rover and the ‘wanderer concept’, if you can’t tell duh 🙄 🤷‍♀️ but anyways stay tuned for now bcs I’m still figuring out the flow of the story (i suck, sorry) BUT I SWEAR I’LL FINISH ߹ᯅ߹

But it's another thing completely when it's just you and him, a specific type of unequivocal touch that can only be described as innately Jongin, and it's this knowledge that leads you to believe your boyfriend isn't just craving closeness in a half cognitive state.

His intentions become clear when his ring finger traces the crease of your thigh, teetering against the seam of your underwear as he ascends to your navel. You try not to quiver, and he hums inconspicuously when you roll over, stretching your limbs.

"Why are you up bub?"

He paws at your hip and your thigh brushes the half hard erection that is growing in his shorts. You're too sleepy to be surprised, however you wonder if he can see the glint in your eyes as he lets out a soft, almost inaudible groan from the contact.

You reach out and move some of his tousled hair from in front of his forehead, the tips of your noses touching, his puffy lips brushing past yours while he speaks.

"Was dreaming...had a good dream," you wonder for a moment if he's really awake, with how groggy his low voice sounds. "Can't sleep now."

He's shameless as he pulls your middle flush against him, the heat of his chest warming your forearms as you drop your hand somewhere close to his shoulder, tracing circles along the valley of his collarbones.

"Hmm, you're usually not so eager when you're tired." You feel the corner of his mouth twitch as he halfway smirks, wide palm rubbing your lower back and the top of your thigh as his hips become bolder with their proximity.

"But I miss you, miss being with you," his mouth is plush and sincere as he kisses you, the scent of his skin and the studiness of his body against yours leaving your willpower weak. "M'so busy, dream about making you feel good."

Your fingers gently grasp the ridge of his jaw as his tongue casually slips into your mouth, exploring while you sling your leg over his middle and your centers meet. A shared chorus of satisfied moans slip past your kisses, the comforter that's atop of you both suddenly too hot to be underneath.

"My sweet boy, you deserve so much." You practically purrs against his lips, his cock now solid against the crotch of your panties from your words. You can tell he's properly worked up now, rubbing himself against you.

"Can we...? Please..."

He's unintentionally breathless, senses overwhelmed in the dark and aching to feel more more more. You're so soft in his arms, you're his, and the domesticity of it makes his belly hot with desire.

You nip his plump bottom lip lightly, enough to have him cupping your ass and pushing your hips as close to his as possible in your current position. You do him one better and crawl on top of him all together, his mouth nor his hands straying from yours; refusing, in fact.

Your knees are secure on either side of his warm, taut middle, your hands exploring his broad chest while his fingertips gently grasp the back of your neck.

The kiss is sloppy and becomes lewd very quickly with the way Jongin insists on bucking up against you, years of dancing evident with how smoothly he seems to roll his hips against your cloth covered slit.

Your mouths move together haphazardly, no real rythym now as your inhibitions dissipate between the movement of your tongues. You can tell he's still tired, horny but tired.

You reluctantly pull away from his fever inducing mouth, trying not to become so easily overwhelmed. It's hard when he looks up at you like that, like you're the whole world and more while your fingers slip underneath the waistband of his shorts and pull them down his thighs.

He twitches when you crawl back onto him, the shaft of his smooth dick snug against your center while your mouth leaves a wet trail of open mouthed kisses from his chest to his throat, his skin sweltering.

He whines, and you short circuit at the sound, no matter how familiar it is to your ears. You slip your hand between your bodies to grasp his solid length and slip your panties to the side, grasping onto his broad shoulder for leverage while you sink down onto him.

The stretch is a bit more staggering than you're used to, and it's only now that you're realizing it genuinley has been a while since you and Jongin last got to be this close. He’s always working, as are you and being intimate has somehow slipped through your fingers these past two weeks.

It makes it all the more gratifying, and you can tell he feels just as thrilled, his lips parted and eyebrows furrowed together as a string of expletives leave his mouth.

"You're so wet baby." He says it with strained astonishment, hands wandering from your soft hips to underneath your sleeping shirt and then your breasts. Your hard nipples prod at his palms.

You arch into his touch as you begin to rock yourself against his stiff cock, steady at first in an effort to make the moment last a little longer. You can feel every ridge and curve of him, and you have a hard time not mewling.

"You always make me wet Nini."

You hiccup a gasp as he suddenly thrusts into you, lifting his knees and digging his heels into the mattress in a manner that almost seems knee jerk, like he couldn't help it.

"O-oh baby you're so good to me." It dawns on you quite quickly that he doesn't plan on slowing his minisrations, pulling you down to his mouth by then sides of your neck in a gentle yet urgent manner.

It feels even better like this, his length filling you perfectly in the way it always has, the squelch of your slick as he fucks you only adding to the suddenly thick atmosphere. You can't help but to whimper, body trembling as it remembers just how skilled he really is at making you feel good.

"You like it like this?" He asks earnestly, kissing you between replies to feel the vibration of your soft mewls against his mouth. "Yes Nini, you're so good, s-so good."

His slim fingers find their way to the sides of your throat, and you don't have time to be awestruck by how sweetly he seems to do it, too focused on the way his body moves underneath you.

Your body jolts with the force of his thrusts, and he knows your every reaction so well that it must be obvious how close you are already, your shaky hands grasping his waist.

"Say it again for me, please?"

His tone is different this time, needier and raspier with the effort he's using to make it audible. You can tell just by the way he ever so slightly squeezes the sides of your throat while he begins harshening his pace, what he's hinting at.

And you oblige in the shameless gratification, mimicking his ministrations and securing your fingers around his neck while you fuck yourself onto him in a shared rythym.

It's been too long, he thinks to himself. He's mesmerized, in love with you to a painful degree. Not to mention your mouth...

"So good to me, Nini, you're so fucking big and f-fuck-" he hangs onto every last syllable, watching your lewd expressions and listening to your praises with rapt attention. "want you to fill me up Jongin."

His eyes roll back for just a moment, as your twist your fingers in his honey colored hair, lips suckling the sensitive skin just below his earlobe. His hips stutter, and you know he's as close as you are, hands releasing your neck in favor of keeping you in an iron grip against him.

It all feels like a sweet dream, your face buried against his shoulder, the sweet and warm scent of his skin and soap causing your inner thighs to tingle. You feel him so far inside of you, reaching places only he could, holding you in his arms like a lover all the while.

You're not surprised, to be the first one cumming, but he's struck by a sudden wave of agonizingly overwhelming arousal with the way you cry out his name.

"Jong-jongie, oh-oh!" Your walls have him in a vice grip, and he falls apart while you're quivering against him, his kiss bitten lips finding your tender neck as he pumps himself into you.

"That's my girl, this pussy is m-mine oh b-baby, so fucking good."

His voice is quiet, he's too out of breath, too fucked out. But you can still hear him perfectly, sending heat waves of white hot pleasure through your bones with every word that he groans out.

He fucks himself into you a few more times, languidly and with no real purpose; just needing to savor the feeling. You're still pulsing around him.

His chest rises and falls with less fervor now, his fingertips gently caressing the curve of your back as you rest your head against the crook of his shoulder. He doesn't care to move and neither do you, too tired, and too stubborn to let the other go.

Everything is quiet. And not uncomfortably or unsettlingly so, it’s comforting. You can hear his heartbeat this way, and he can match his breathing up with yours as he does most of the time subconsciously. 

It's two forty five a.m when Jongin whispers sleepily into the darkness, with you asleep on his chest.