#jongin x reader

⟢ jongin

standing backshots. jongin doesn’t just fuck—he devours. he takes his time, lets the anticipation build, makes you feel every second of his attention before he finally gives you what you’re begging for. and standing backshots? it’s his favorite because it’s raw, desperate, and so damn deep.

his hands are firm on your hips, pulling you back against him as his chest presses into your back, his breath hot against your neck. he likes keeping you right on the edge, teasing, dragging himself along your slick folds, letting you shiver before he finally pushes in.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, voice thick, rough. “so tight—how are you always this tight for me?”

his grip tightens the second you try to move, holding you in place, forcing you to take every inch at his pace. his fingers dig into your hip, guiding you back onto him, slow and deliberate, making sure you feel just how deep he is. and when he finally pulls almost all the way out? he gives you one warning—one low, husky “stay still.”

and then he slams forward, knocking the air from your lungs, your palms pressing into the nearest surface to keep yourself steady. he’s merciless. deep, measured thrusts, grinding into you between each snap of his hips, making sure you’re stretched around him, taking everything he gives you.

“you hear that?” his voice is almost teasing, breathless. “hear how fucking wet you are for me?”

and when your legs start shaking, threatening to give out, he’s already there. one arm wraps around your waist, holding you up, keeping you locked against him as he drives into you from behind, relentless. his lips are on your neck, kissing, biting, whispering filth against your skin as he loses himself in you.

“uh uh, baby. don’t you run from me.” his palm presses into your lower stomach, feeling the way he fills you, the way your body molds around him. “stay your ass right here. i’m not done with you yet.”

he’ll make sure you don’t forget it.

⟢ chanyeol

cowgirl. omg congratulations to you for bouncing on it!!!!!!!!!! chanyeol loves the way you look when you’re on top. all of you—spread out for him, trembling above him, completely at his mercy even when you’re the one in control. he wants to feel you, watch you, let you take him however you want, but if you think for even a second that he’ll just sit back and let you have your way? you’re dead wrong.

his hands are everywhere. gripping your waist, smoothing up your thighs, grabbing handfuls of your ass as he helps you move, his fingers digging into your skin as he watches you take him in, slow and teasing.

“fuck, baby.” his voice is low, wrecked, barely holding himself together. "you feel so fucking good—look at you, riding me so well."

he tries to let you set the pace, he really does, but the second you slow down, teasing, grinding instead of bouncing? his patience snaps.

his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he thrusts up into you, deep and sharp, knocking the breath right out of you.

“you think you can play with me?” his voice is a rasp, his head falling back against the pillows for a second before his dark, blown-out eyes find yours again. “nah, baby. you wanna tease me? you better be ready for this.”

he grabs you, pulling you flush against his chest, his arms caging you in as he plants his feet against the mattress and starts fucking up into you—hard. his grip is unrelenting, forcing you to take it, making sure you feel every thick, deep stroke.

“shit—you're gripping me so tight—fuck.”

he’s panting now, his lips brushing against your ear, his groans turning into deep, desperate moans as he loses himself in the way you feel around him. one hand slides up your back, threading through your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back as he leans in, lips hovering over yours.

“say my name, baby.” his voice is wrecked, pleading, demanding. “louder. let me hear you.”

and when you finally give him what he wants, his control snaps completely. he flips you over in one move, pinning you beneath him, his hands on either side of your head as he drives into you, raw and desperate, completely consumed by you.

“fuck, i need you—i need all of you—” his forehead presses against yours, his breath mixing with yours, his hips snapping faster, “you're mine, baby. you're fucking mine.”

and he’ll make sure you never forget it.

⟢ sehun

missionary (but make it intense). sehun might seem nonchalant on the outside, but don’t let that fool you. when he has you beneath him, pinned down, there’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. missionary with him isn’t just some slow, sweet affair—it’s raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that you can’t escape his gaze, even if you wanted to.

his hands are everywhere— fingers laced with yours, pinning your wrists above your head as he presses his body against yours, chest to chest, hips locked together. his thrusts are deep, measured, deliberate, each one hitting you right where you need him, each one dragging out a gasp, a moan, a whimper that only fuels him more.

his eyes stay locked on yours, dark and blown out, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in, his lips just barely brushing against yours with every thrust.

“you feel that?” his voice is a low growl, sending shivers down your spine as he grinds his hips against yours, making sure you feel every inch of him. “you’re mine—every fucking part of you.”

and he doesn’t just say it—he shows it. he shifts, angling his hips just right, making you arch up off the bed, your nails dragging down his back, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist.

his lips find your neck, teeth scraping gently before sucking a mark into your skin, claiming you in every possible way. his hands move from your wrists to your thighs, gripping, pulling you impossibly closer, deeper.

“look at me,” he demands, voice rough, almost pleading. “i want to see you. i want to see what i do to you.”

and when you meet his gaze, eyes wide and glassy, completely undone beneath him? he loses it.

his pace quickens, thrusts turning sharp, almost punishing, each one sending shockwaves through your body. but even then, he keeps his focus on you—watching every reaction, every moan, every tremble.

“fuck—just like that,” he breathes, his voice cracking, his control slipping. “let me feel you, baby. let me feel you come apart for me.”

and when you do—when your body arches into him, when you cry out his name, when you tighten around him so hard he sees stars— he doesn’t stop.

he keeps going, keeps moving, keeps fucking into you with everything he has, chasing his own release, needing to be as close to you as possible. his forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged, lips finding yours in a desperate, messy kiss as he finally lets go, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering groan.

even after, when you’re both panting, bodies tangled together, he refuses to pull away. his hands gently stroke your hair, his lips pepper soft kisses across your face, his voice a whispered promise.

“you’re mine,” he murmurs, a soft, possessive growl lingering in his words. “all mine.”

⟢ kyungsoo

doggy style. kyungsoo is a perfectionist, and that extends to the way he ruins you in bed. he likes control, likes watching your body react to every precise thrust, likes knowing that he’s the one making you lose yourself. doggy style is his ideal position—he gets to set the pace, decide just how deep he’s going to bury himself inside you, how hard he’s going to snap his hips until you’re trembling.

it starts slow, deliberate—his hands gripping your hips, spreading you open, taking his time to savor the sight of you arching for him. his voice is low, rough as he murmurs, “stay just like that.” and then the moment he decides you’re ready? his grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he slams forward, knocking the breath right out of your lungs.

he’s ruthless with it—grinding in deep, pulling almost all the way out just to thrust back in and make you whimper for more. one hand presses into the small of your back, keeping you arched perfectly for him, the other wrapping around your throat as he leans over you, voice like a growl against your ear.

“look at you.” his tone is controlled, but there’s a dark edge to it. “taking me so well. you like this, don’t you?”

and the second he hears you gasp yes—or, even better, if you’re too wrecked to speak? he chuckles, slow and dangerous, pulling out just to leave you desperate, whining, arching back for him. his palm lands hard against your ass, the sting making you jolt before he drives back in, harder this time, setting an unforgiving rhythm that has your fingers clawing at the sheets.

but kyungsoo doesn’t just fuck you—he watches you fall apart. his grip tightens when you start shaking, when your legs threaten to give out, when your moans dissolve into nothing but broken gasps. and when you do collapse forward, body trembling, he’s right there behind you, pulling you back against his chest, his hand wrapping around your jaw to turn your face to him.

“we’re not done yet.” his lips brush your cheek, deceptively soft. “you wanted more, didn’t you? keep up, baby.”

he’ll make sure you do. again and again.

⟢ junmyeon

desk/tabletop. junmyeon has an air of sophistication, but behind closed doors? he’s anything but refined. he loves bending you over the nearest surface—his office desk, the kitchen counter, even the damn piano if he’s feeling particularly indulgent. his fingers press into your back, keeping you arched just the way he likes.

"you’re gonna take all of me, right?"

his tone is teasing, calculated—but there’s an edge of warning beneath it. because junmyeon isn’t asking. he’s telling.

his fingers curl around your hip, pulling you back onto him, slow, deep, stretching you open until your breath stutters. he watches your body react to him, watches you arch further, your back curving under his touch like you’re made for him.

and that’s when he loses the last of his patience.

his grip tightens, his control slipping as he thrusts in hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. the desk shakes beneath you, papers sliding to the floor, but he doesn’t care. he’s completely focused on you, on the way you gasp his name, on the way your body clenches around him.

“fuck, baby—” his voice falters just for a second before he catches himself, regaining that controlled, commanding tone. “so tight—taking me so fucking well.”

he leans over you, his hand pressing firm against the small of your back, keeping you exactly where he wants you. his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his breath warm, teasing as he whispers,

“don’t even think about running from this.”

he picks up his pace then, driving into you harder, sharper, until your nails scrape at the wood beneath you. he’s relentless, precise, the way only junmyeon can be—like he’s planned this down to the very last detail, like he already knows exactly how to ruin you.

and when he feels you start to break beneath him, when your moans dissolve into soft, breathless whimpers? he slows, dragging it out, making you feel every thick, deep stroke.

his teasing smirk is the last thing you register before he snaps his hips forward one last time, groaning against your skin as he finally, finally gives in.

and even after, when he’s still catching his breath, his body pressed against yours, his hands stay exactly where they are. because junmyeon may be composed in public, but behind closed doors? he’s anything but refined.

⟢ baekhyun

meeeeaaaann mating press. baekhyun is controlled, precise, and unbelievably strong—and he loves using that strength to keep you exactly where he wants you. the moment he presses you down beneath him, folding your legs up against your chest, pinning you beneath his weight, you already know you aren’t going anywhere.

his grip is firm, unyielding, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he pushes you open wider, making sure there’s nowhere to hide, no way to escape the way he stretches you out. his breathing is slow, measured, his dark eyes locked onto yours as he lines himself up, the head of his cock dragging along your slick folds, teasing you, making you wait.

"ready for me, baby?" he murmurs, his voice rough, dripping with quiet dominance. he watches your lips part, watches the way your body trembles in anticipation—and then he pushes in, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch until he’s seated deep inside.

and he doesn’t move.

he stays there, his chest flush against yours, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath mixing with yours as he lets you feel it— the stretch, the pressure, the way he’s buried so deep inside you it leaves you breathless.

"fuck—look at you," he groans, his voice low and wrecked as he pulls out just an inch before snapping his hips forward, making you gasp.

and then he starts moving.

his thrusts are slow at first, devastatingly deep, grinding against you in slow, measured rolls of his hips, making sure you feel every inch. his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you wide open, making sure you take all of him, making sure you don’t run.

but then your nails rake down his back. your moans turn higher, sharper, needier. your body clenches around him so perfectly, so tight—and whatever restraint he had? gone.

he snaps his hips into you, sharp and relentless, his pace turning brutal, his thrusts hard enough to make the bed frame creak beneath you.

his hand slides down your stomach, pressing firmly, feeling the way he moves inside you, feeling how deep he is.

"ya feel that, baby?" his voice is thick, breathless. "feel how deep i am? you’re taking me so fucking well."

his other hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, just tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze, forcing you to stay in this moment with him.

"don’t look away." his thumb brushes against your jaw, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath ragged as he fucks into you harder. "i wanna see your pretty face when you cum all on my cock."

and when you finally break—when your body tenses, when your back arches, when you sob his name and tighten around him so hard it nearly makes him lose his mind?

he groans, his pace stuttering, his own release hitting just as hard as yours. his grip on you tightens, his body pressing flush against yours as he buries himself deep one last time, letting go completely.

but he doesn’t let you go.

his arms stay wrapped around you, his hands soothing over your thighs, his lips pressing soft, lazy kisses to your shoulder.

"holy fuck, sweetheart," he sighs, his voice still rough, still breathless. "so fucking perfect for me."

and when you’re too wrecked to even move, to even speak?

he just smirks, shifting his hips just slightly, still buried inside you, still keeping you folded beneath him.

"mm, let’s go again," he murmurs, "i’m not done with you yet."

⟢ minseok

reverse cowgirl. minseok is all about control, but he also loves watching you lose yourself on top of him. he leans back, arms resting behind his head, looking effortlessly relaxed—but his eyes? sharp, dark, completely locked onto the way your body moves. he lets you set the pace at first, biting his lip as he watches you roll your hips, taking him in so beautifully, your back arching as you sink down on him again and again.

but what really drives him insane? the way your ass bounces with every move.

his jaw tightens, his fingers twitch against the sheets, his restraint hanging by a thread as he watches the way you take him—so fucking deep, so perfect. he lets out a low, appreciative groan, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

“shit, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with arousal. “look at you—fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

he watches, transfixed, letting you ride him at your own pace—until he decides he wants more.

the second he sees your thighs tremble, your rhythm faltering just slightly, his hands are on you. strong, firm, unrelenting.

his fingers dig into your waist, holding you still before slamming his hips up, driving himself deeper into you with a force that makes you cry out.

"getting tired, baby?" his voice is teasing, smooth, dripping with amusement as he watches you struggle to keep up. he pulls you back against his chest in one swift motion, his arms caging you in as he takes full control.

his hands slide lower, gripping your ass, spreading you open just to watch the way you swallow him up with every thrust.

"fuck—look at that," he groans, his voice dark with obsession. "you see how good you take me? how perfect you are bouncing on my cock?"

his fingers dig in tighter as he guides you up and down, slow, deep, precise, making sure you feel every inch. and when he hears that soft, wrecked whimper—when your body starts to tremble again, threatening to collapse—he just chuckles, breath warm against your skin.

“don’t worry,” he murmurs against your ear, his lips grazing your jaw as his grip tightens. “i’ll take care of ya.”

and then he does—grinding up into you, rolling his hips deep, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. his fingers trail down your stomach, teasing where you’re already so sensitive, circling, stroking, pushing you closer to the edge.

"that's it," his voice turns husky, his breath ragged against your ear. "i want to feel ya come apart just like this. show me how good you can be for me."

and when you finally do—when your body locks up, your moans breaking into desperate sobs, your nails clawing at his arms— he just smirks, tilting your chin back for a deep, possessive kiss as he fucks you through it.

because with minseok? he doesn’t just let you ride him—he makes sure you fall apart on top of him.

⟢ yixing

with yixing, spooning isn’t just a position—it’s an experience. everything he does is slow, deliberate, and devastatingly deep. he loves the closeness of it—your body flush against his, your legs tangled together, your back pressed to his chest as he moves inside you, stretching you open with every slow, intoxicating stroke.

his lips never leave your skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder, his tongue flicking out to taste, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. he murmurs soft praises between breathy groans, his voice low, heavy with pure, unfiltered want.

“you feel so good, baby,” he sighs, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer, like he’s trying to mold you against him.

his free hand is restless, exploring—fingertips ghosting over your stomach, teasing the softness of your skin, dipping between your thighs with an unbearable slowness. he’s not just touching you; he’s memorizing you, learning what makes you gasp, what makes your body tense, what makes you fall apart.

his voice is gentle but firm, rasping against your ear, “let me take my time with you, baby. i wanna feel all of you.”

and god, he does.

the way he rolls his hips is devastating—unhurried, deep, so precise it feels like he’s unraveling you with every slow thrust. he doesn’t just chase his own pleasure; he savors every little reaction from you, waiting, listening, learning.

he tilts his head, pressing a kiss to your temple, and then… he adjusts just slightly, just enough to hit that perfect spot inside you, the angle making your breath stutter, your fingers digging into his arm. he notices immediately.

his grip tightens, his hand sliding down your thigh to hitch your leg higher over his, holding you there as he grinds into you, deeper, more deliberate, drawing out every shudder, every desperate moan.

“yeah, that’s it,” he breathes against your ear, his lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. “let go for me, baby. let me feel you.”

and the moment he feels your body start to tremble, your breath hitching, he doesn’t stop.

he pushes you through it, dragging you over the edge with slow, relentless precision, whispering something possessive, something sweet, his voice dripping with adoration as he holds you tighter, deeper, refusing to let you go until you’re completely undone in his arms.

even after, when your body is boneless, trembling against him, he doesn’t pull away. his lips graze over your shoulder, pressing soft, lingering kisses, his fingers drawing lazy patterns over your stomach.

“i could stay like this forever,” he murmurs, voice warm, his arms locking around you, holding you close.

and he means it.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ PHEEEWWWWW!

minseok - acts of service

its basically built in as part of his personality - that dependability, the feeling that whenever you break, he'll be there to put you back together. he's quiet about the things he does for you, playing them off if you ever ask about it - "its nothing, really". but small things add up, and you really do appreciate how there's always a mug of coffee just the way you like it waiting for you on your nightstand when you wake up, or how whenever you have a long day all your chores are magically completed by the time you get home. he likes knowing that he can help you out, that his stability is a pillar for you as well.

junmyeon - gift giving

he blurs the line between boyfriend and sugar daddy at this point. at least once a week you'll come home to a box on the kitchen table with the name of some luxary brand on the face of it - jewelery, clothing, shoes, bags, or anything else you could want, he'd get it for you. early on in your relationship, you were almost hesitant to accept all of this, but he quickly set those worries aside with how dead set he was on what he would call providing for you. making you happy, and carrying along little reminders of him wherever you go.

yixing - physical touch

a sweetheart. and more than that, a dedicated one. he's always got his hands on you in one way or another - he rests his hand on the small of your back, or clasps it together with your own, or drags his thumb across your cheek when you're on the verge of falling asleep. he's recently taken a liking to playing with your hair, braiding and unbraiding it slowly as your attention is on the tv, or a conversation with a friend. his touch is grounding, reflective of him as a person, a silent reminder of his love and devotion.

baekhyun - words of affirmation

kyoong teases you endlessly, but praises you twice as much. he's such a direct person that if he wants you to know something, he'd tell you instantly - which is why you are constantly met with "i love you" and "you look gorgeous" and compliments and toothy grins. and if you were to ever detest something he had said, maybe your insecurities were bad that day or you were just not feeling your best, he'd be soooo quick to turn around your attitude. after all, you were his girl, his angel, his one and only ... he can't have you not seeing yourself the way he does. 

chanyeol - quality time

he's a fan of literally any activity as long as you're there doing it with him. invite him anywhere and he's putting his shoes on before you can even say where you're going.  he just loves having you around, no matter where you are. even if you're too tired to go out, he's a big fan of doing things seperately but together. oftentimes he'll find himself on the couch, laptop in front of him displaying a new track he's been working on, while you have your head in his lap and a book in your hands, reading away quietly. really, as long as you're somewhere near him, he's happy.

kyungsoo - acts of service

he handles your responsibilities before you even get the chance to think about them. he's always cooking for you ... obviously, because how could you ever turn that down? following the recipes to your favorites  for dinner and experimenting away the next morning for breakfast, making notes of what you do or don't like. is surprisingly good at handywork around the house. you'll catch him fixing that squeaky chair when he has the time, or looking at that door that never fully closes. it's second nature to him, making sure you're all taken care of.

jongin - physical touch

he's such a teddy bear 😭😭 always burying his nose in the crook of your neck or giving you a back hug while you work, resting his chin on the top of your head. so much pda because he literally can't help himself. will put his arm around your shoulder or your waist, will kiss your cheek or your forehead when you're in the middle of talking, will hold your thigh while he's driving... he just can't keep away from you !! and best believe at the end of the day when the two of you are ready to go to sleep, he's clinging to you for dear life, an arm draped across your stomach and a leg hooked onto your own. he just loves feeling close to you.

sehun - quality time

if i had to describe sehun in one word, it would be genuine. and when sehun genuinely loves someone, i think the way he'd show it would be through him always wanting to be beside them. he carves time out of his busy schedule to be with you. random day trips, late nights at home, dinner dates, anything. he also has a deep appreciation for when you do the same for him, cracking a smile when you ask him if he wants to go out, and replying with a smug "miss me already?"

sorry for no jongdae 😭😭 i felt a little iffy adding him in when he has like. a whole ass family idk !! but i guess if any of you do want to see him then i can do his seperately :P just lmk!

What was meant to be a recharging weekend had quickly spiraled into a series of unfortunate events.

From the second you stepped out of your apartment, the universe seemed to have it out for you. You had realized—too late—that your keys were still on the kitchen counter, and because you hadn’t checked the forecast, you were standing on the sidewalk without an umbrella.

The rain broke just as you entered an old bookstore a few blocks away. The transition was instant: the air turned warm, filled with the scent of aged wood, the dark coffee in the owner’s mug, and that unmistakable, comforting must of old books.

You figured you could kill time there while waiting for Jongin, your boyfriend. He was still across town, likely lost in the rhythm of his class, rehearsing with his students for the upcoming dance competition.

Yet lucky days had never really been your thing.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, dear, but we’re closing in ten minutes,” the old bookseller said. Her voice was just as soft and inviting as it had been when you first walked in.

“Oh… right. Sorry,” you stammered, feeling a flush of heat in your cheeks. You felt clumsy under her gaze; she definitely knew you’d been wandering the aisles for an hour without picking up a single thing. Desperate, you grabbed the nearest spine. “I’ll take this one!”

“Of course! Follow me, please.”

As you trailed her slow steps toward the register, your eyes drifted to the window. Outside was a blurred gray. People scrambled for cover or huddled under umbrellas, while a few indifferent souls simply trudged through the downpour.

You prayed your new purchase wouldn’t be ruined the moment you stepped outside, but the universe apparently had other plans for your wallet.

Snap.

The sudden blackout made the woman jump. “Oh, goodness!” She peered through the dim light at the register, which died, then up at the wall clock, marking 4:52 pm. “I’m sorry, dear. I can’t process the sale without the scanner, and it doesn’t look like the power is coming back anytime soon,” she apologized, trying to turn on the light switch with no success.

“No, I understand,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment as you returned the book to its shelf. “I’ll come back for it soon.”

“Thank you, dear. I’ll give you a discount when you return—”

“Oh, no, please! It’s not your fault at all,” you insisted, waving your hands and letting out a nervous, awkward laugh. 

You felt entirely out of place as you offered a final goodbye, pushed open the door, and braced yourself for the cold air. You tried to walk as fast as your shoes would allow, hunched over with your hands uselessly shielding your head. It was a losing battle; your cardigan quickly became wet and a heavy weight against your skin.

Your only goal at this point was the café you frequent. But as you rounded the corner, the sight of the dark windows made your heart drop. The closed sign dangled mockingly behind the glass. Of course, it was closed. It was sunday.

You stood in front of the door, hoping someone from inside could save you, but that didn’t happen. Frustration boiled up, followed quickly by a wave of exhaustion. You reached into your pocket, desperate to call Jongin, and yikes... your phone was dead.

The universe had finally succeeded in ruining your day.

You sank down onto the narrow ledge of the café’s doorway, tucked away as much as the shallow awning would allow. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your wet arms around them to form a tight, shivering ball, letting out a shaky breath, your eyes watering as the frustration finally broke.

You didn’t know how much time had passed in the same position. However, you felt the same way. 

The sound of splashing footsteps echoed down the empty street, growing louder and more frantic until they stopped right in front of you.

“Angel?”

You looked up, your vision a watery blur, to see Jongin hovering over you. He was breathless, his hair damp, and his eyes were wide with a raw panic that made your heart ache.

“Oh… thank god it’s you, princess,” he exhaled, the words coming out shaky. He dropped to his knees in the puddles without a second thought, his hands framing your face, his thumbs frantically brushing away the rain and tears. “I was terrified… I went to the apartment and saw your keys still in the lock, and when you didn’t answer your phone…” he had to pause, “I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

Jongin didn’t wait for you to explain. He felt how violently you were shivering and immediately pulled off his warm hoodie.

“Wait, no—your clothes will get soaked,” you whispered, your voice cracking. 

“I don’t care about that,” he countered softly. He took off your damp cardigan, guiding the oversized hoodie over your head, helping you find the sleeves. It was huge on you, smelling like him and his cologne. “God, I called you so many times.”

“My phone died,” you choked out, embarrassed. “The power went out at the bookstore, and I forgot the umbrella, and when I came here, they were closed and I just… I couldn’t do anything right today. I’m such a mess…”

You braced yourself for a lecture about being clumsy, but Jongin wasn’t like that. He wrapped your arms around you so tightly you could feel his heart still hammering against his ribs from the stress of looking for you.

“It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair, his voice dropping into that low soothing register he reserved only for you. “My sweet girl, it’s just a bad day, that’s all. You’re not a mess. You’re just exhausted, okay? And I’ve got you now.”

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you cried quietly into his shoulder, feeling even more embarrassed. He just comforted you, rocking you slightly and pressing kisses to your temple. After a few minutes, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression melting into a soft, comforting smile.

“Let’s get you something hot to drink, okay?”

“It’s closed,” you said, fresh tears welling up as you gestured toward the dark windows and the mocking sign. “Everything is closed…”

Jongin looked at the sign, then he let out a soft, tender laugh and squeezed your hand, leaning in to bump his forehead against yours. 

“The café might be closed, but the convenience store is definitely open,” he said, standing up and pulling you gently to your feet. He kept his arm firmly around your waist to keep you steady and warm. “And I happen to know they have that ice cream you love. The one with extra chocolate? We’re gonna buy the whole shelf.”

“Jongin… it’s raining,” you protested weakly, even as a tiny smile finally started to tug at the corner of your mouth. “It’s freezing.”

“It was raining,” he corrected softly. “Which is why we’ll buy a ridiculous amount of sweets, go home, and eat them under the thickest blanket we own,” he promised, leaning down to kiss the tip of your cold nose. “C’mon, princess.” 

He held your hand, and with his free hand, he grabbed your damp cardigan. You kept your hand tucked firmly in his, your fingers entwined, while your other arm was lost deep inside the cuff of his massive hoodie. with the hood pulled low over your damp hair.

Jongin didn’t let the silence grow heavy. “I’m thinking we also need those spicy chips we had last time,” he mused as he nudged the store door open, the bell chiming a cheerful welcome. “Or should we go full sugar crash and get gummies, too?”

“Jongin…” you whispered, though a small laugh bubbled up in your throat as you watched him grab a basket. “We can’t possibly eat all of that. It’s too much.”

“Watch me,” he teased, leaning down to touch your nose with his fingertip. “Nothing is too much for my girl.”

He moved through the aisles, tossing items into the basket like he was on a mission. He’d pick up a package, waiting for your opinion, and then drop it in when he saw your eyes crinkle at the corners. He was doing his best to make up for something he didn’t ruin. 

“Two?” you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder as you followed him to the register, noticing he grabbed two pints instead of one ice cream.

“One for the movie, and one for the ‘just because I love you’ part of the night,” he whispered, leaning down to press a quick, lingering kiss to your temple. 

By the time you reached the counter, the basket was overflowing with a ridiculous mountain of sweets. You watched him pay, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over the last of your frustration. The clumsy girl who had been crying in the rain felt far away now. Standing there with him, your hand never leaving his, you realized that your favorite café wasn’t your safe place—the real one was standing right next to you, making sure you never stopped smiling.

Instead of rushing back to the apartment, you found yourself pulling gently on his hand, guiding him toward the long way home. You weren’t ready to end the magic of the moment just yet; you wanted to linger in this version of the world where it was just the two of you.

“Not ready to go in?” he asked softly, pulling you closer to his side. You shook your head, and he didn’t even hesitate. “Alright, then. Night picnic on the move, it is.”

You walked through the quiet streets, tucked deep into the warmth of his hoodie. Jongin started tearing into a bag of sweets, popping a gummy into your mouth and then into his.

“Thank you,” you whispered, noticing your voice cracked a little, making Jongin stop for a second.

“For the gummy? I’d give you the whole bag if you ask me to,” he murmured, his eyes crinkling into those half-moons you loved so much.

You shook your head, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “Just for... for everything.” You weren’t crying, but you had the urge to hug him tightly enough as he hugged you back.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I will love you even more on bad days like today, okay?”

You looked at him with teary eyes, wondering what you had done to really deserve someone like him. “I love you too, Nini,” you murmured, curving your lips because there were no more tears of sadness or frustration, but love.

Jongin smiled back at you, leaning down to finally kiss you properly. His warmth and soft lips were all you needed to feel better. “Let’s go home, honey. I’ll handle the rest.”

“This is the playlist?”

Jongin frowns. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, it’s not very Christmas-sy. Most of these are…” you trail off, shaking your head as you continue scrolling through his music.

“You don’t like it?”

Rolling your eyes, you ignore how your ears burn under his scrutiny. It’s not that you don’t like the music. No, the songs aren’t the problem. The issue arises from the fact that you’re hosting a family dinner, not a… sex rave orgy party, or whatever the hell he actually made the playlist for. Most of the songs aren’t even holiday-themed!

“Maybe you just need to hear it,” he says, sidling up behind you, hand already reaching for his phone.

“I doubt that.”

With a flick of his finger music fills the room. Even before the lyrics start you know this is a bust. The song is sensuous and bass-heavy; the exact opposite of a holiday tune. You sigh, once again shaking your head. Your mouth falls open to protest his choices but snaps shut twice as fast when bed squeaks blast out through the speaker. Despite the heat flooding your system, a shiver tears down your spine.

Jongin remains in your space, his arms wrapped around your waist, hips swaying to the beat. Resting his chin on your shoulder, his lips ghost along the curve of your neck. If he notices how your breath hitches, he refrains from commenting on it. Instead he pulls you closer. Your back meets his chest and you commit him to memory: the comfort found in his arms, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the shape of his muscles as they flex–

“Jongin,” you whine, squirming in his grasp. “This won’t wor–”

“Shh,” he hums, the sound reverberating from his body to yours. “Feel the music.”

Deciding to humour him, you close your eyes. The bass thumps against your chest. An erotic fantasy plays out before you courtesy of the explicit lyrics floating within your mind. Jongin’s fingers trace patterns across your stomach, switching to a series of taps whenever the beat drops. It’s all noise and reverb as the music speeds up. Unable to make out a single word over the cacophony of sound, you throw your head back and lose yourself to the rhythm.

Sliding his hand under your shirt, he unbuttons your pants with deft fingers. Loosening them just enough to slip inside, his fingers brush over your clothed cunt, teasing your entrance until you’re bucking into his palm. Your lip stings the harder you bite down on the plump flesh, holding back your wanton moans.

His kisses are liquid fire against your neck. When his teeth graze your pressure point you break. Your body shakes with unrestrained need as you whimper, tilting your head to the side to offer him better access. He nibbles and sucks on your skin until your knees tremble. Reaching above, your hand finds purchase within his silky hair. The longer he prolongs the inevitable, the harder you tug.

“You’re so impatient,” he murmurs. “Are you feeling neglected?”

Nodding, you grind against his crotch in response. He laughs. After a final chaste kiss to the searing patchwork of marks he’s undoubtedly left on your neck, he focuses on your cunt. Nudging your panties to the side, he eases his middle finger into your pussy. You clench around him as your core kicks into overdrive. Raw heat explodes through your veins.

“Fuck, Jongin, it’s so good,” you say, fighting to keep your tone steady.

His palm presses into your clit each time he pushes inside. Setting a lazy pace, his movements are languid yet delectable. When he slips another finger inside to scissor you open, you release his hair in favour of gripping his wrist, both as an anchor and to hold him in place. It isn’t until he finds the spongy ribs of your g-spot that he gets serious.

Losing faith in the strength of your legs, you lean back against him. He chuckles at your pout but readjusts his hold, tightening his arm around your waist and securing you against his chest. Increasing his tempo, his fingers pump inside your clenching walls. When your nails dig into his arm he hisses, biting your shoulder in return.

Somewhere between exquisite pain and feverish bliss you’re thrust over the edge. Blinding waves of pleasure rock your body. You ride out your orgasm, oblivious to the ache building within your muscles. The world slows around you as your vision dims and your hearing fades. Slumping against Jongin, you yawn.

“So do you still hate it?”

“I can’t play this tonight,” you say as his hand retreats from your tingling cunt.

“Tonight?”

Lifting you into his arms, he carries you toward the bathroom before setting you down by the counter. He grabs your basket of supplies and sets off to work. Steam clouds the mirror as hot water flows into the tub. Tossing in a bath bomb and some oils, his eyes drift over to you. Devoid of any expression, you stare at him. A spark flashes within his dark eyes.

“Wait, did you think I picked that music for dinner tonight with your parents?”

“What other playlist would I want today of all days?”

A smile cracks across his face. He shakes his phone before placing it beside the sink. “Good thing I have your Christmas music right here.”

He whisks you into his arms and a contented sigh escapes your lips. You relax into his touch, allowing your worries to ebb away with each kiss pressed against your skin. His fingers once more travel the length of your body. He undresses you with ease. Warmth tickles your sensitive clit as his mouth hovers over the small bud. Each word he speaks sends trembles down your spine.

“I’ve taken care of everything else, so now let me take care of you.”

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jongin huffs. “you hate me.”

“yeah,” you reply sagely, throwing him a grin you know is annoying. “i hate you so much that i married you yesterday. kissed you in front of everyone we love. and promised to always be by your side.” you wiggle your fingers dramatically, the slim silver band on your fourth finger catching the light from above, shining softly.

a permanent reminder of your love, one that jongin also carries now.

jongin groans. “that's not fair.”

“i know. but sickness and health, remember? i didn't think it'd happen so fast. it hasn't even been a whole twenty four hours yet.”

“i don't understand how it happened,” jongin says, pushing himself to sit up and rest against the headboard.

“nini...” you say, concerned, but your husband waves a hand at you. he pulls the blankets over his shoulders with trembling hands that tug at your heart.

“i'm okay. just a little cold.”

“do you want your sweater? i found it on top of my clothes when i unpacked my suitcase.”

jongin shakes his head. “don't need it. i kept it there for you, anyway.”

“kim jongin.”

“are you crazy?” jongin asks, a little hysterical, eyes wide as he looks at you. “calling me by my full name?”

you sigh. “why are you acting like your teeth aren't chattering?”

“it's...the weather. iceland is way colder than home, you know.”

but he shrinks under your gaze. you say nothing as you fill a glass with the warm water and hand it to him. he drinks it slowly under your watchful eyes, scooting closer with every sip he takes till he's resting his head on your shoulder.

“sure you don't need something warmer?”

“i need you,” he mumbles, finishing off his glass.

something warm blooms in your chest. you run your fingers through his hair, wincing at the heat radiating off his skin.

jongin sighs. “'m sorry.”

“for what, nini?”

“getting sick. ruining our honeymoon.”

you frown. “are you seriously apologizing for that?”

“yeah,” jongin sniffs. “i know how much you wanted to see the northern lights. you'd always bring it up every time i mentioned a vacation.”

“i know,” you reason, “but i wanted to see them with you. it would be more magical with you.”

“exactly,” he groans. “now we'll probably have to wait out my fever before we can do anything. or fly back home earlier than expected. god, i wish we were home. i wish i didn't catch this stupid cold.”

“we can't always have what we want, nini,” you say gently, kissing his head, “but you have me. and i'm happy i'm with you. a whole week away from everyone and just with you feels like a dream.”

“...my running nose is a dream?”

“it's not the most ideal situation, but it's you, so it's okay,” you say, patting his chest. “we have the rest of our lives to keep seeing new places, don't we?”

jongin's shy smile highlights his face, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a storm. “yeah,” he mumbles, sounding tired but honest. “i'm so happy i married you.”

“me too, nini. now, if you'll be sweet enough to take this medicine as well—”

₊‧꒰ა oneshots ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𓆩 junmyeon 𓆪

⟢ friends help each other out @cxsmicmyeon ⟢ honest @jaehunny ⟢ jealousy @lunaflowers ⟢ friends @soobadnoonecanstopher ⟢ the whale song @soobadnoonecanstopher ⟢ hard enough @writemekpop ⟢ how it starts @yeoldontknow

𓆩 minseok 𓆪

⟢ mine @yehet-me-up  ⟢ ready or not @soobadnoonecanstopher ⟢ dinner date @iibonniee ⟢ love @itstheoneshot ⟢ in the morning @eomayas ⟢ lust @causekpop

𓆩 yixing 𓆪

⟢ red lipstick @taetaesbaebaepsae ⟢ chill @causekpop ⟢ dirty dancer @causekpop

𓆩 baekhyun 𓆪

⟢ the heir @byuntrash101 ⟢ an uncomfortable christmas @prettywordsyouleft ⟢ cream soda @eomayas ⟢ closure @eomayas ⟢ glossy fruits @baeklooming-day ⟢ touch @yeolsmuffin ⟢ back then (when we used to) @simplyyeol ⟢ red flag @jongbross ⟢ hook, line & sinker @whimsical-ness ⟢ on the way @baeklination ⟢ silver @lucyjay ⟢ don’t go @anyamaris ⟢ office cohorts @8bityeol ⟢ take you home @ohh-baekhyun ⟢ high for this @exxxblr  ⟢ mutually beneficial @breakyeol ⟢ sweet @baekluvie ⟢ goodnight n go @its-not-sof ⟢ the ugly friend @universitykpop ⟢ touch it for real @soobadnoonecanstopher

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⟢cavity @yeoldontknow ⟢uh huh, honey @exxxblr ⟢medicine @taexual

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⟢ littoral @whatifexo ⟢ the bad boy’s secret @subbykboys ⟢ the wedding date, or; how to avoid the singles’ table @taeclipse ⟢sexual fantasies @justwritedreams ⟢torque @yeoldontknow ⟢the morning after @yeoldontknow ⟢all quiet @yeoldontknow ⟢what happens in paris @yeoldontknow ⟢break a sweat @breakyeol ⟢greatest gift @wonderlustlucas ⟢reckless behavior @jongbross ⟢mad? @jongbross ⟢where do I live again? @taemins-dolphin ⟢comfort zone @taexual ⟢mirror @onlylovekpop ⟢sweet,sweet relief @breakyeol ⟢the doctor will see you now @kwanisms ⟢not shy of a spark @chaecchi

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⟢squirm, baby @breakyeol ⟢across the way @kpopfanfictrash ⟢sent @j-pping ⟢give it some thought @j-pping ⟢something sweet @anyamaris ⟢childs play @exxxoblr ⟢brother @cocobutnochanel ⟢between a rock and a hard place @sooibian

𓆩 jongin 𓆪

⟢ blame it on touch @yeoldontknow ⟢it’s nothing @mybiasisexo ⟢dirty sinner @werejusttouchingeachother ⟢yes, sir @werejusttouchingeachother ⟢shut me up @werejusttouchingeachother ⟢kinktober day 1 @itstheoneshot ⟢dirty @writemekpop

𓆩 sehun 𓆪

⟢formidable @prettywordsyouleft ⟢neighbours @itstheoneshot ⟢you drive me so crazy @jongbross ⟢don’t delete the kisses @kyungseokie ⟢yes, sir @werejusttouchingeachother ⟢you @enaasteria ⟢more than a dance @gyudior ⟢pink @soobadnoonecanstopher ⟢humiliation @mybiasisexo ⟢tension @universitykpop