Masseur!jungkook - Tumblr Posts
Aromatherapy - Part 1 [Jungkook]
When your holistic hippie friend offers you a free massage at an unheard of health shop, you’re skeptical. But as soon as your masseur Jungkook walks into the room, you realize your outlook on massage therapy is about to completely change.
Warnings: oil massage, brief nipple play, fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex.
Moodboard by the fabulous @just-let-me-be-your-lover .
The ambiance of the room is soft,warm and inviting - the dim lights and quiet, soothing shift of the tranquil music humming lowly through the space. The scent wafting from the mist diffuser is a blend or aromatic oils you can’t place - heavy lavender and a combination of other herbs no doubt merited to relaxation.
You’d never been good with this kind of stuff. Never given in to the holistic beliefs that your best friend stood by so fully. For christmases and birthdays, she’d purchase bottles of the latest super vitamins for you to consume, strong in her conviction they’d cure your health. Casual coffee dates with her would be full of advice on what foods were rich in omega and essential acids, all because you’d added a chocolate brownie to your order while she was sipping green tea. It never mattered though because all of it, you chose to ignore.
So when you found yourself sharing about the stress your work was bringing you, you’d surprised yourself at the interest in the advice she’d given that had lead you hear, standing in this very cozy room in nothing but a tiny paper bikini handed to you by the receptionist on arrival. And when she’d text you a time and place for a prepaid appointment at the massage parlor, you’d thanked her with every intention of using it.
The outside of the building was unassuming - small, grotty and with the neon word ‘Nunchi’ and a hanbang sign out the front suggesting it sold traditional Korean medicine. But on entry, the luxurious decor told you you’d found the right place straight away, marble counters and plush seats indicating just how upmarket it really was.
A short knock on the door draws your attention to the present once more, a low, docile voice calling out in honorific language.
‘Excuse me, Madam. I’m about to enter. Are you dressed?,’ Despite the soothing tone, you’re struck by a feeling of butterflies shifting through your stomach. When your friend had told you you were going to have a great time, she’d never mentioned that you’d be basically naked in front of a complete stranger. The paper tissue cut outs barely concealed your most intimate parts - mere circles over your nipples and a tiny triangle over your core. ‘Did the receptionist ask you to wear the garments?’
‘Uh… Yeah, I’m dressed.’ You practically bite your lip to prevent yourself adding the additional ‘barely’ that you’d wanted to slip in. You were committed to this. It was too late to pull out now.
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