Treat Yourself With Kindness

idk, i’m thirsty - 25

[channlust]

you got me thinkin' nonsense!

or: you don't believe that spiderman is real. who would believe that a masked vigilante just popped out of nowhere, started shooting webs and swinging through Seoul saving people, in spandex?? and most of all, you wouldn't believe that said "spiderman" would have any correlation with han jisung, that's just a load of nonsense!

in other words..: look, in jisung's defense, he didnt mean to get bit by a genetically modified spider. but he did, so now he's stuck with the superhuman side effects, a superhero persona, and his roommates constantly covering for him. and hey, he doesn't mind a sprinkle of chaos into his life. he's actually glad he got this alter ego, a version of himself that does good for other people, y'know...saving the city, and one that he can maybe impress you with, since his original self is stuck being your academic rival that you can't stand even if you were paid.

warnings: academicrival!jisung x reader, college au, nerdsung + nerd!reader, slowburn, eventual smut (not in this chapter), 3racha as roommates, Yunjin as your bsf and roommate, references from multiple spiderman movies, innuendos, profanity, college slop, caffeine slop, group project slop, party slop, talks of biotech and robotics that are probably false (research was poorly done), some action scenes, some injuries and blood loss (not in this chapter), reader is an academic weapon and doesn't catch a break, cameos of other members, crack, fluff, banter, no angst at all because Im sensitive, probably a heck ton of typos.

wc: 14k

part ll

98%.

The number glared up at you from the paper.

it's a good grade, objectively a great one. but there had to be a mistake - you’d stayed up three nights straight reviewing every possible permutation of the material. Your notes had been immaculate. You’d even rewritten them twice just to be sure.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat. you braced yourself for whatever annoying thing Jisung was about to say.

"Oof," Jisung said, leaning over your shoulder. "Ninety eight? I mean, close enough."

His own test fluttered into your peripheral vision, 100%. Of course.

"Better luck next time," he added. His voice was light, teasing - a tone he’d used since freshman year whenever he edged you out by fractions of a point.

You exhaled through your nose, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you shoved your test into your bag, zipping it shut.

Jisung didn’t take the hint. He never did. He propped his hip against your desk, grinning as he watched you pack up.

"Don’t worry," Jisung continued, "I’ll let you copy my notes next time."

You finally looked up at him - his stupidly perfect face, his stupidly smug grin, stupidly big framed glasses.

"Like hell I’d copy your chicken scratch," you muttered, shoving your chair back harder than necessary. making its legs screech against the floor.

Jisung’s grin widened. "y'know, if you actually got enough sleep instead of staying up all night-"

You stood up and stomped on his foot, hard.

He yelped, hopping backward with exaggerated agony. "Ow! What was that for?"

You didn’t dignify him with an answer. You slung your bag over your shoulder and walked off without a backward glance.

Behind you, Jisung’s dramatic whining faded into the background noise of the lecture hall, punctuated by a burst of laughter from somewhere near the exit. You didn’t need to look to know it was Changbin, doubled over with amusement while Chan stood beside him, hand resting on the strap of his bag, waiting patiently.

The three of them had been inseparable since their second year of high school, when Chan, already broad shouldered and responsible beyond his years, had stepped between a scrawny, loudmouthed Jisung who'd just learned curse words and a group of seniors looking for an easy target.

Changbin, who’d been watching the confrontation from a nearby bench, had tossed a water bottle at the ringleader’s head mid threat. The resulting chaos had somehow ended with all three of them in detention, and that was where their friendship formed.

By graduation, the three of them had already cemented their fate - Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were a package deal, an inseparable trio that had somehow survived four years of high school without murdering each other.

So when university acceptance letters rolled in, the decision was already made, they’d stick together, signing a lease for a cramped apartment near campus before the ink on their diplomas had even dried.

And then there was you.

Orientation week had been the beginning of it all, though you hadn’t realized it at the time.

You hadn’t noticed Jisung at first during orientation. Not really. He’d been just another face in the crowd, another overeager freshman with bad posture and a laugh too loud.

as for him though, he had a stupid, undeniable crush on you.

he tried to talk to you, you’d been too busy rearranging your schedule to register his existence - some mumbled joke about the professor’s hair that you’d brushed off with a polite smile before walking away.

Another time, still during orientation, he’d lingered near your seat after the icebreaker games, hovering like he expected you to acknowledge him. You hadn’t.

What had caught your attention was the first exam. You’d walked out of that lecture hall certain you’d aced it, only to find your name one spot below his on the results board.

he'd realized then that you're probably a perfectionist, and that you did not like being in second place. you never were in second place, ever since high school.

he became your competition from then.

Jisung noticed the shift immediately. He could’ve backed off. He didn’t. Instead, he leaned into it.

It wasn’t that he wanted you to hate him. He just wanted you to look at him.

Don't get him wrong, he did try to befriend you, but when that ended in inevitable failure, he opted for his last option, the one thing guaranteed to make you react, relentless, obnoxious teasing. If you couldn’t stand him, at least you’d notice him.

It worked better than he’d expected.

three years later, and Han Jisung was still the single most irritating person you'd ever met.

~

The sound of the apartment door jolted Jisung awake. He blinked at the ceiling, groggy and disoriented, sunlight already painting stripes across his unmade bed.

His phone lay facedown on the floor where he’d tossed it last night. He fumbled for it, thumb smearing against the screen as he squinted at the time, 9:47 AM.

"Shit."

Jisung groaned, rubbing his face with both hands as the pieces clicked together - his snoozed alarm, the muffled knocking he'd sleepily batted away earlier, Chan had tried. Chan had definitely tried to wake him up.

Jisung rolled out of bed, scrambling upright, one hand already tugging his hoodie over his head while the other fumbled for his backpack.

He was not gonna be that late if he decided to take a short cut. And so he did.

Cutting through the science building was a gamble, technically off limits to non majors before noon, but Jisung had long since memorized the janitor’s schedule.

He ducked under a half raised security gate, sidestepping a cart of lab equipment as he beelined for the west exit. His footsteps echoed too loudly in the empty hallway, but he didn’t slow down - not until a sharp clang from an adjacent lab made him skid to a halt.

Jisung turned his head just in time to see a door marked 'BIOTECH RESEARCH - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' swing shut, the tail end of a lab coat disappearing behind it.

He hesitated for half a second, before the distant chime of the campus clock tower rang. He was so late.

Jisung shouldn’t have been there.

The lock mechanism whirred as he hovered near the entrance, the distant hum of machinery inside prickling at his ears. Curiosity had always been his fatal flaw.

He glanced over his shoulder. The hallway was empty.

The door hissed open with a nudge of his shoulder, just wide enough for him to slip through. The lab was a maze of steel tables and humming equipment, bathed in the sterile glow of overhead LEDs.

Glass tanks lined the far wall, their murky contents swirling with movement - something skittered behind the frosted glass, too fast to track. spiders.

"Cool," he muttered, stepping further inside.

Jisung's fingers hovered over the nearest microscope, its lens gleaming under the lab lights. The surface was cool to the touch. Before he could explore more, a sharp click from the far end of the room froze him mid reach. His breath hitched. The sound wasn't mechanical. It was footsteps.

He ducked behind a lab bench, his knee connecting painfully with a drawer handle. He bit his tongue to keep from swearing.

Through the gap between two beakers, he could just make out the silhouette of a researcher - tall, white coated, absorbed in a clipboard. The man moved methodically down the row of specimens, pausing occasionally to adjust dials or scribble notes.

When the researcher turned toward a computer terminal, Jisung seized his chance. He crab walked backward, keeping low, until his shoulder bumped into something decidedly not a lab table. it was one of the glass tanks from earlier.

The container wobbled. He lunged to steady the glass before it could shatter and give away his presence that was not allowed in this lab, but his palm slipped against the condensation slick surface. The lid shifted with a silent clink.

A spider the size of a quarter dropped onto his wrist.

Jisung's entire body locked up. The spider's legs were needle thin, its body an unnatural shade of iridescent blue that shimmered under the lab lights.

For a suspended second, neither of them moved - Jisung paralyzed by instinctive revulsion, the spider crouched like a coiled spring. Then it bit him.

The pain was sharp and sudden, Jisung clamped his free hand over his mouth to smother the yelp threatening to escape. The researcher's footsteps paused.

"Who's there?"

Jisung froze. His wrist burned where the spider's fangs had pierced his skin, the pain radiating up his arm in slow, crawling waves.

The spider twitched between his fingers, its iridescent body pulsing unnaturally as he pinched it. For a split second, he considered tossing it aside - but the memory of its bite made his stomach twist.

Without thinking, he squished it between his finger, killing it.

Jisung grimaced, wiping his hand against his pants as the researcher's footsteps grew louder. He ducked lower behind the lab bench. A clipboard clattered onto the table above him, followed by the metallic click of a pen. The researcher muttered something under his breath - numbers, maybe, or measurements - before his shoes squeaked against the floor, turning away.

Jisung exhaled silently through his nose. His wrist throbbed. The bite mark was already red, the skin around it blotchy and hot to the touch. He flexed his fingers experimentally, half expecting his hand to lock up, but aside from the sting, nothing seemed immediately wrong.

The researcher's footsteps faded toward the far end of the lab. Jisung waited ten seconds before risking a glance over the edge of the bench. The man's back was turned, his attention fixed on a row of specimen jars. Jisung didn't wait. He walked backward until his shoulders hit the wall, then slid along it toward the door, keeping low.

The door clicked open just enough for him to slip through. He didn't look back.

The hallway was still empty. Jisung broke into a sprint, rounding the corner just as the lab door groaned shut behind him.

By the time he burst through the science building's side exit, the pain in his wrist had dulled to a steady ache. The sunlight hit his face, momentarily blinding him. He blinked, disoriented, before his phone buzzed violently in his pocket.

Changbin's name flashed across the screen.

Jisung fumbled with his phone, nearly dropping it as Changbin's second call lit up the screen. He swiped to answer just as a cyclist swerved around him, yelling something unflattering about his lack of spatial awareness.

"Where the hell are you?" Changbin's voice crackled through the speaker.

He rolled his wrist experimentally, half expecting a jolt of pain, but only a dull ache remained. strange, but not alarming enough to mention.

"Chill, I'm literally two minutes away," Jisung huffed into the phone, sidestepping a group of freshmen clustered around a campus map.

Jisung skidded to a halt outside the lecture hall, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he yanked the door open. Twenty pairs of eyes swiveled toward him - including yours, narrowed with undisguised irritation from the front row.

The professor paused mid sentence, her laser pointer flickering against the projection screen.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Han," she said dryly.

Jisung flashed her a grin "Traffic was brutal."

The professor arched an eyebrow. "You live on campus."

"Exactly."

Jisung collapsed into the empty seat next to you with a sigh. Conveniently, there were no other free seats.

The professor resumed her lecture, but Jisung wasn't listening. His fingers drummed restlessly against the desk, his knee bouncing so fast it blurred. You gritted your teeth.

"Would you stop?" you hissed under your breath, jabbing your pen toward his twitching leg.

Jisung blinked at you like he'd forgotten you were there. "Stop what?"

"That." You gestured pointedly at his knee, "You're shaking the entire row."

He glanced down, as if surprised by his own body. "Huh."

Jisung blinked again, his fingers stilling mid tap against the desk. "Oh. Sorry."

He stopped. His knee went still. His fingers curled into a loose fist against the desk. Even his breathing seemed to slow, like he was consciously holding himself in check.

The professor's lecture droned on, but you couldn't focus. Your peripheral vision kept catching on Jisung's unnaturally still form.

Then he sneezed.

The sound was sharp, explosive, and entirely too loud for the lecture hall. Half the class jumped. The professor paused mid sentence, her laser pointer flickering off the screen. Jisung sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

"Bless you," you muttered automatically.

Jisung turned his head so fast you heard his neck crack. "Thanks," he whispered back. His voice was hoarse, like he'd been yelling earlier - though you couldn't remember hearing him speak at all today.

The strangeness of it prickled at your neck. Jisung didn't whisper. He didn't apologize. And he certainly didn't stop fidgeting for twenty straight minutes.

weird

~

after lectures, you were supposed to be studying.

Keyword: supposed.

Currently, your textbook lay abandoned as Yunjin scrolled through her phone, legs kicked up onto the library table in direct violation of at least three campus rules.

"I swear to god," she muttered, stabbing her screen, "if Professor Kang assigns one more reading—" she cut herself off with a sigh.

"I'll drop out," Yunjin announced, tossing her phone onto the table. "I'll move to a remote island. Raise goats. Never think about electron configurations again."

You snorted, flipping a page in your textbook without absorbing a single word. "You'd cry over the first goat that liked someone else better."

"Excuse you, I'm extremely likable-" Yunjin's protest cut off mid-sentence as she caught you glancing sideways for the third time in five minutes.

"Ohhhh. That's why you're failing to absorb basic chemistry. Distracted by your archnemesis over there."

You stiffened. "I don't know what you're—"

"Han Jisung," Yunjin sing songed, nodding toward the table where Jisung was slumped over a pile of notebooks, dead asleep.

His cheek was pressed against an open textbook, one arm dangling off the edge of the table, the side of his wrist adorned with what looked like a nasty bruise. A thin line of drool connected his mouth to a page. "You were staring at that."

"I was not staring," you hissed, slamming your textbook shut . Several students at nearby tables startled. Jisung didn't even twitch. "I was just—"

"Admiring his scholarly dedication?" Yunjin smirked, kicking her feet down from the table. "Or maybe his impressive drool radius?"

"I was wondering how someone who sleeps through every lecture still manages to ace every exam."

As if on cue, Jisung shifted in his sleep, his dangling arm swinging. he nearly toppled him sideways out of his chair. Your body reacted before your brain could stop it, half standing, hand outstretched - only to freeze when he somehow righted himself without waking.

Yunjin's eyebrows shot up. "Wow."

"Wow what?" You dropped back into your seat, face burning.

"Nothing," she said, stretching the word into three syllables. "Just never realized you cared so much about Jisung's spinal health."

"I just didn't want to witness a concussion in the library."

Yunjin grinned, kicking you lightly under the table. "Uh huh. Sure. That's definitely why you looked ready to dive across three tables like a superhero." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "You secretly like him."

You choked on air. "Like him? Are you insane? He's—" You gestured wildly toward Jisung's sleeping form. "—that. That's what he is. A menace. A sleeping menace."

"Aw, but look how peaceful he is," Yunjin cooed, feigning innocence. "Like a little angel."

At that exact moment, Jisung snorted loudly in his sleep, mumbled something unintelligible, and promptly face planted directly onto his textbook. You winced. Yunjin burst out laughing.

He lifted his head blearily, blinked at the drool smeared page stuck to his cheek, then promptly slumped back down without a single coherent thought behind his eyes.

Yunjin wiped tears from her cheeks, still giggling. "Oh my god. He's adorable."

"You're delusional," you muttered, shoving your notebook into your backpack. The zipper caught on a loose page, and you yanked it free with a frustrated huff. "Let's get lunch before I have to listen to any more of this."

Yunjin’s eyes lit up suddenly, "Oh! Right," she said, snapping her fingers as you shoved the last of your notebooks into your bag. "You’re coming with me to that party tonight."

You blinked. "What party?"

"The one hyunjin’s throwing at his apartment," she said, as if this were obvious. "The one I told you about last week."

"You absolutely did not."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Semantics. Anyway, after lunch, we’re going back to our dorm so you can try on at least three outfits before I approve one."

You groaned, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. "No way. I have actual responsibilities."

Yunjin stood, shoving her phone into her pocket "Nope. You’ve been holed up in the library for weeks. You’re coming, and you’re going to socialize, and you’re going to like it." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Unless you’d rather stay here and stare at Jisung some more."

You nearly tripped over your own feet. "What? I wasn’t—"

"Uh huh." She linked her arm through yours, steering you toward the library exit "lunch first, outfits second, party third. No arguments."

You dug your heels in halfway to the door. "What if I want to argue? - who the hell even hosts a party on a school night-"

Yunjin sighed dramatically, turning to face you with a look of exaggerated pity. "Sweet, naive, delusional you. When have your arguments ever worked on me?"

"...Never."

"Exactly." She patted your cheek. "Now move. I’m starving."

You did end up going according to Yunjin’s plans - not that you had a choice, given she’d physically dragged you out of the library, then out of your dorm.

to top it all off, you had to wait for her because if you didn't, there'd be no one to take her drunk ass home, and you'd end up finding her in a ditch somewhere next morning.

so you had to wait till the asscrack of the night to take her home because no matter how un enjoyable a party is, you were not a bad friend.

and you were gonna be so late tomorrow.

~

The blaring alarm tore Jisung from his sleep this time. He gasped awake, limbs tangled in sheets that felt suspiciously sticky - had he spilled something last night? His hand shot out blindly toward the nightstand, fingers slapping against anything but his phone.

The alarm continued shrieking. Jisung groaned, pawing at the edge of his nightstand until his fingertips brushed warm metal. He grabbed his phone and hit the screen repeatedly-

The screen cracked under Jisung's fingers with a pop when he swiped to turn off the alarm. not a full shatter, but a spiderweb of fractures radiating from his thumbprint.

He blinked at it, sleep fogged brain struggling to process why his phone screen suddenly broke just from a few taps of his finger.

The display still functioned beneath the damage, the time, 8:15AM, visible through the splintered glass. Jisung flexed his fingers. He hadn't pushed that hard. Had he?

Jisung frowned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. The cracked phone screen wasn't the only thing that felt off, his head throbbed like he'd pulled an all nighter.

He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the frames in his haste.

The moment he slid them on, the world tilted.

Everything blurred into a nauseating smear of colors and shapes - like someone had smeared Vaseline across his lenses.

Jisung ripped the glasses off his face. The world snapped into focus, he could see perfectly without his glasses. He blinked rapidly. His vision hadn't been this clear since elementary school.

"What the fuck," he whispered, turning his hands over in front of his face. The calluses on his fingertips stood out in stark relief, the whorls of his fingerprints unnervingly detailed.

He rubbed his eyes hard till he saw colors and shapes behind his eyelids, but when he opened them again, his dorm room remained horrifically, impossibly sharp.

Jisung exhaled slowly through his nose and tossed the glasses onto the nightstand - they landed with a clatter, one temple arm snapping off completely.

His wrist itched. The bite mark from yesterday was gone.

Jisung rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor with an audible thud that made the loose change on his nightstand rattle.

He stretched, arms arching high above his head - and froze mid yawn when he heard the distinctive rrrip of fabric.

His sleep addled brain registered two things at once, the sudden draft across his shoulders, and the fact that his favorite hoodie, the one he’d slept in last night, now had a gaping tear along the seam.

He blinked down at himself. The fabric clung to his torso in ways it never had before, stretched taut across shoulders that suddenly looked broader. His biceps pressed against the sleeves, the cuffs riding up his wrist like they’d shrunk in the wash.

Jisung frowned and tugged at the hem. It didn’t budge.

his full length mirror confirmed it. His reflection stared back at him - same messy hair, same sleep creased cheek, but it was like he hit a second puberty overnight.

The hoodie that used to hang loose now hugged every contour of his torso, the fabric straining across his chest when he inhaled.

he took his hoodie off - since when did he have abs?? he was met with whole six pack. he even counted them.

he prodded at his own bicep experimentally, half expecting it, I don't know, deflate? It didn’t.

The bedroom door creaked open - Chan appearing at the doorway, "I swear to god, if you're still asleep-" His threat died halfway out of his mouth when he saw Jisung.

Jisung stood frozen in front of the mirror, shirtless and wide eyed, one hand still gripping the torn remains of his hoodie. The morning light caught the sharp new definition of his shoulders, the lean muscle coiled along his arms like he'd spent the last six months living in a gym.

"...Did you steal Changbin's protein shakes?"

Jisung whipped around "What? No! I just-" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I woke up like this."

Chan stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. His gaze flickered over Jisung's torso - the previously soft lines of his stomach now taut, the faint shadows of ribs replaced by something decidedly more athletic.

Chan reached out and poked Jisung's bicep with two fingers. It felt like pressing against granite.

"Ow," Jisung lied automatically, then blinked. "Wait. That didn't actually hurt."

Chan's eyebrows raised. "You're telling me you went to bed and woke up as-" He gestured vaguely at Jisung's entire existence. "-whatever this is?"

A beat of silence. Then, from the hallway, "If you two are having a moment, I'm throwing myself off the window." Changbin's voice, muffled through the door.

Chan ignored him. "Did you take something? Experimental pre workout? Sketchy supplements from the gym bros?"

Jisung's fingers twitched toward his wrist - where the spider bite had been. The skin was smooth. "I might have... broken into the biotech lab yesterday."

Chan's expression grew even more confused. "okay...?"

The bedroom door slammed open before Jisung could answer. Changbin stood in the threshold, mouth already open to ask why the hell they were whispering with the door closed - then his eyes landed on Jisung’s bare torso. His eyebrows shot up. "Woah. What happened to you?"

Jisung threw his hands in the air, "I know! I woke up like - okay listen," he took a deep breath,

"yesterday I was late, like super late, so I took a shortcut through the science building even though I’m technically banned from the biotech wing after the centrifuge incident—"

Changbin mouthed 'centrifuge incident?' at Chan, who pinched the bridge of his nose.

"-and then I heard this noise from the restricted lab, right? So obviously I had to check it out-"

"You didn’t have to," Chan groaned.

"and there was this spider, this huge freaky blue one, in a tank that I maybe knocked over-"

"You knocked over-"

"-and it bit me! Right here!" Jisung brandished his unmarked wrist, "It hurt like hell yesterday but now it’s gone and suddenly I can see everything without my glasses and I just ripped my favorite hoodie like it was tissue paper-" He demonstrated by grabbing the hem of his remaining sleeve and tugging. The fabric split with a sound like tearing paper.

Changbin's mouth dropped open. Chan's blinked in disbelief.

"Okay," Chan said very slowly, "So you're telling me a genetically modified spider bit you, and now you're..." He gestured vaguely at Jisung's new physique. "This?"

Jisung flexed his arms experimentally. His biceps jumped under his skin "I mean, when you say it like that-"

Changbin suddenly lunged forward and punched Jisung square in the stomach - or tried to. His fist connected with what felt like solid concrete instead of soft flesh.

Jisung didn't even flinch. Changbin yelped, shaking out his hand. "Holy shit, dude. That's not normal."

Jisung looked down at his own abdomen, prodding the spot Changbin had hit. "Didn't feel anything." His voice went unnervingly quiet. "Should I be freaking out?"

Chan grabbed Jisung's shoulders - or attempted to, before his fingers slipped off the unexpected slope of muscle. "You shouldn't be able to bench press a car after one spider bite!"

"Technically I haven't tried that yet-"

The alarm on Jisung’s shattered phone blared again, 8:45AM, and Chan visibly flinched. “Shit. Class starts in fifteen.”

Changbin was already halfway out the door, yelling over his shoulder, “I’m not getting marked absent because you two want to dissect Jisung’s sudden glow up!”

Chan walked out of Jisung's room too, coming back after a moment,

"Here," Chan grunted, tossing a black hoodie at Jisung's face. It smelled faintly of fabric softener and Chan's inexplicably expensive cologne. "It's the biggest one I've got. Don't pop the seams."

~

Jisung reached campus a full minute before Chan and Changbin, his sneakers skidding to a halt outside the lecture hall with unnatural ease.

His lungs barely burned, just a pleasant warmth where there should have been heaving breaths.

He turned, bouncing on his toes while waiting for his roommates to catch up, when a sudden prickle raced down his spine. His scalp tingled.

Something was about to happen.

The prickle exploded into full body alarm a half second before the weight hit him.

Jisung spun without thinking - his hands snapping up just as you tripped. His palm connected with your shoulder an instant before you would have face planted into his chest.

The force should have sent both of you crashing to the ground, but Jisung didn’t budge an inch - just absorbed the impact like you weighed nothing.

Your coffee wasn’t so lucky, The cup slipped from your grip. Jisung’s free hand shot out, snatching it mere inches from the ground. Hot liquid sloshed against the inside of the lid but didn’t spill. He held it there, frozen, your shoulder still cradled in his other hand, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence.

Up close, you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes - something you’d never noticed before.

“You-” you started.

“I-” he interrupted at the same time.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Uh. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, too quickly. His hands were still there.

Jisung blinked like he’d just remembered they were attached to him, then jerked them away. The coffee wobbled dangerously in his grip. You grabbed it before it could spill .

“Late too?” he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of Chan’s hoodie.

You nodded, adjusting your bag strap. “Yeah.”

You stared at him for a second too long, suddenly noticing how the hoodie strained across his shoulders - when had Han Jisung gotten broad? The absence of his usual thick framed glasses left his face strangely exposed, his cheekbones and dark lashes more pronounced than you remembered.

"Thanks," you muttered, brushing nonexistent lint off your sweater where his hands had been.

After a beat, you added, "Good reflexes," because it was true and you hated leaving truths unsaid, even for him.

Jisung blinked at you, momentarily stunned by the compliment - his mouth opened, closed, then opened again. A faint pink spread across his cheeks, "Uh," he managed. His fingers twitched toward his face, a habitual gesture to push up glasses that weren't there, before aborting the motion halfway.

"Uh, thanks," Jisung managed after an awkward pause, He cleared his throat "I mean - you're welcome. Obviously. Because I saved your life."

"You caught my coffee," you corrected flatly, lifting the cup slightly as evidence.

His grin returned, familiar. "Same difference." He rocked back on his heels, "You would've face planted on the pavement if I hadn't intervened. Tragic, really."

"I take it back. Never complimenting you again."

before he could retort, Changbin's voice cut through the courtyard "If you two are done flirting, we're gonna be late!" He stood at the lecture hall doors with Chan, who was rubbing his temples like he'd aged ten years in the past hour.

Jisung whipped around so fast his sneakers squeaked against the pavement. "We're not-!"

You walked past him before he could finish the sentence, shoulders brushing hard against his as you passed.

~

Jisung didn't plan to become a hero - it just sort of happened at 1:37 AM outside a convenience store three nights after The Bite.

He'd been pacing his dorm room, fingers twitching with pent up energy, when Chan threw a couch cushion his head and told him to "go climb a building or something, Jesus Christ."

So he did. Sort of. Mostly he just jumped fire escapes until his thighs burned and his lungs finally felt normal again, which is how he ended up perched on a rusty AC unit overlooking the 24 hour convenience store when the guy in the ski mask walked in waving a gun.

The gun glinted under the lights of the convenience store, its barrel wavering between the cashier and the racks of snacks. Jisung's body moved before his brain caught up, one second he was crouched on the AC unit, the next he was dropping through the open window like a damn action hero.

His sneakers hit the floor with barely a sound, knees bending to absorb the impact that should've shattered his ankles. The robber whirled around, gun swinging wildly. Time slowed. Jisung saw the trigger finger tense, saw the cashier duck behind the counter.

He lunged.

What happened next was equal parts luck and whatever the hell that spider had pumped into his veins. His palm smacked the gun sideways just as it discharged - the bullet embedding itself in a display of energy drinks with a sickening thunk.

Jisung's other hand grabbed the guy's wrist, twisting until the gun clattered to the floor. The would be robber screamed. Not from pain, Jisung realized, but from the sight of his own fingers bending the wrong way under Jisung's grip. He let go like he'd been burned. The guy bolted, leaving his ski mask behind in Jisung's fist.

Silence.

Jisung didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the cashier wheezed out a shaky "Holy shit." The gun lied abandoned on the floor between them, still warm from the misfired shot.

Jisung stared at it, then at his own hands - his bare hands, no gloves, no mask, just his stupidly recognizable face that was probably caught on camera. His stomach dropped.

Chan was going to murder him.

The cashier - a guy his age with a nametag reading 'jeongin' - slowly straightened from behind the counter, eyes darting between Jisung and the discarded ski mask. "...Are you gonna rob me too?"

"What? No!" Jisung’s voice cracked. He kicked the gun farther away for emphasis. "I just-" He gestured vaguely at the empty space where the robber had been. "-stopped that guy. Obviously."

The ski mask stared up at Jisung from the convenience store floor. He scooped it up, fingers brushing the rough knit fabric, still warm from the robber's panicked sweat.

The cashier was already dialing the police with shaking hands, but Jisung's feet were moving before his brain caught up. He bolted out the door like he was the criminal, the stolen mask crumpled in his fist.

His knees nearly buckled when he hit the pavement - the sudden realization that he'd just stopped an armed robbery barefaced hit him.

Jisung sprinted down three alleys and ducked behind a dumpster just as police sirens wailed past the mouth of the alley. His heart hammered against his ribs, not from fear, but from something far worse. exhilaration.

He lifted the ski mask toward his face, hesitating for just a second before remembering its previous owner had been sweating bullets into the fabric.

He tentatively sniffed it - then recoiled so hard his head smacked against the dumpster behind him.

"Yuck," a stench clung to it, absolutely not.

He sprinted home in record time, sneakers barely touching the pavement. His enhanced legs carried him up the fire escape in three leaps. The window to their apartment's living room was still cracked open from his earlier escape, curtains fluttering in the night breeze. Jisung slid inside, falling right onto his ass.

"Ow," Changbin deadpanned from his bed, not looking up from his phone.

Jisung scrambled upright, ski mask still clutched in one hand. His gaze flicked from Jisung's disheveled hair to the crumpled mask.

Chan’s eyebrow twitched. “So. You robbed a robber.”

Jisung flapped the ski mask like a surrender flag. “No! I disarmed a robber. Then maybe borrowed his mask. Temporarily.”

Changbin snorted "And you didn’t think to cover your face before playing hero?"

this rooted a bad, bad idea into jisungs head.

he spent the next morning hunched over Chan’s laptop, scrolling through fabric stores frantically. His fingers drummed against the keyboard, pausing only to zoom in on a breathable material that promised "enhanced mobility" and "sweat wicking technology."

The description sounded like something straight out of a superhero movie - which, he supposed, was exactly what he needed now.

Chan watched from the doorway, arms crossed. "You realize this is insane, right?"

Jisung didn’t look up. "Less insane than stopping another robbery barefaced."

his first attempt at making a suit for his superhero persona was a disaster.

Jisung had underestimated the complexity of sewing stretch fabric, resulting in a lopsided mess of seams that bunched uncomfortably around his shoulders.

The second attempt fared slightly better - until he tested its durability by scaling the dorm’s exterior wall, only for the pants to split straight down the middle mid climb.

soon enough, Chan saw jisung's genuine dedication, and had taken pity on him. they spent late nights hunched over fabric scraps, Chan’s steady hands guiding the sewing machine - that chan bought from is own money earned from DJ gigs, mind you - while Jisung sketched designs in the margins of his notebooks.

The final prototype emerged from their shared efforts, a sleek red and blue suit with reinforced stitching and breathable mesh panels. The mask took another three attempts before achieving the perfect fit, complete with oversized white lenses that concealed his identity while enhancing his already unnaturally sharp vision.

Jisung examined himself in the dorm’s full length mirror for the first time, twisting to check the fit. The suit hugged his new musculature without restricting movement, the fabric stretching effortlessly as he flexed. He rolled his shoulders experimentally - it was the most comfortable model so far.

"Okay," Chan admitted, "That actually looks... decent."

Changbin tossed an empty soda can at Jisung’s head from across the room. Jisung caught it without looking, reflexes kicking in. The can crumpled further in his grip.

"Show off," Changbin muttered.

The mask was the final piece. Jisung hesitated before pulling it on, fingertips brushing the blank white lenses. Once these went on, it'd be an official embodiment of... whatever this was.

The fabric settled over his face. His breathing echoed strangely in the enclosed space, but his vision remained clear. He blinked, adjusting to the surreal sensation of seeing more while being seen less.

Chan exhaled sharply. "Well. That's... a look."

Jisung twisted to examine his reflection in the mirror. The suit clung to his new physique like a second skin, the red and blue panels accentuating rather than hiding the slope of his shoulders. with a spider logo stitched across the center of his chest.

"So. What now?" chan cleared his throat.

Jisung exhaled through the mask, watching the fabric flutter slightly with his breath. "Now I test it."

His fingers found purchase on the brickwork without thought, his body moving with an instinct he shouldn't possess. He scaled the dormitory wall in seconds. Below, Seoul sprawled in a grid of neon and shadow, its pulse thrumming through the pavement under his palms.

He jumped.

The world tilted. His stomach lurched from the sheer impossibility of what his body was doing. He arced over the alleyway, arms outstretched, fingertips brushing the opposite fire escape before his feet even registered the landing.

The impact should have shattered his knees. Instead, he rolled smoothly onto the grated metal platform, his pulse steady in his ears.

That was when he heard a scream.

It cut through the ambient city noise . Jisung's head snapped toward the sound. Four blocks northeast. A woman's scream. fear, urgent terror in her voice.

He moved.

His body propelled him forward before conscious thought could interfere. The city blurred around him as he swung from ledges, his shot web lines that shouldn't have held his weight. Yet they did.

The polymer strands stretched taut as he launched himself between buildings, and landed on the third story balcony of a love hotel just as the scene unfolded below, a man dragging a woman toward a waiting car, her heels scraping against pavement as she fought.

Jisung didn't think, he immediately droped down, landing between the assailant and the car with a thud. The man recoiled, dragging the woman tighter against him as a human shield. Up close, Jisung could see the knife glinting in his free hand, the woman's smudged mascara.

"Back off!" the man snarled, blade pressing into her side.

Jisung's hands came up instinctively, palms out. The woman's wide eyes locked onto his mask. "You're-" she gasped.

Then everything happened at once. The man lunged, knife flashing. Jisung's body moved - his hand shot out, catching the blade mid air. Metal screeched against reinforced fabric, but didn't pierce.

The man's eyes widened comically as Jisung twisted his wrist, sending the knife clattering to the ground.

The knife skittered across the pavement. Jisung didn’t wait for the guy to process what had just happened, he pivoted on his heel, using his own momentum to yank the woman free in one motion.

She stumbled forward, gasping, but Jisung was already stepping between them, his body angled to shield her completely.

“Run,” he said. The word came out muffled and distorted through the mask, more like a growl than actual speech. The woman didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted, heels clicking against the sidewalk as she disappeared around the corner.

The would be attacker stared at Jisung, then at his own empty hand, then back at Jisung. “What the hell are you?”

Jisung's breath hitched behind the mask - What was he? A broke college student who'd bitten off more than he could chew. A walking science experiment. Definitely not someone who should be standing between an armed assailant and certain doom at 3 AM on a Tuesday.

"Uh," he managed, voice cracking through the fabric. "spiderman?"

The man lunged. Jisung sidestepped on instinct, the guy's momentum carried him straight into a dumpster with a metallic clang that echoed down the alley. Jisung winced. That had to hurt.

Police sirens wailed in the distance, close enough to spook the would be kidnapper, who scrambled upright and bolted in the opposite direction.

Jisung let him go. Chasing him down would mean explaining why he was dressed like a rejected Power Ranger, and frankly, he'd already pushed his luck far enough for one night.

Jisung crouched on the rooftop ledge, peeling off the mask with a wet shluck sound - the fabric sticking stubbornly to his sweaty forehead.

Below, the woman he'd rescued was giving a statement to the police, gesturing wildly toward the rooftops. He ducked back before she could spot him.

His phone buzzed violently against his thigh. Chan's caller ID flashed across the cracked screen, followed immediately by Changbin's bombardment of texts

BRO

DID YOU JUST GO VIRAL ON TWITTER

THERES VIDEO OF YOU DOING A BACKFLIP OVER A CAR

Jisung groaned, flopping onto his back. Gravel dug into his shoulder blades through the suit. Above him, Seoul's light pollution drowned out the stars, leaving only a murky orange haze.

He held up his phone, squinting at the blurry footage someone had uploaded. there he was, mid backflip, his red and blue suit a neon smear against the night. The caption read

Spiderman??? In SEOUL????

The first tweet had thirty seven likes. By morning, it had seventeen thousand and counting.

Jisung woke to Changbin shoving his phone in his face, screen displaying a grainy video of someone in a red and blue suit flipping over a moving car. "Congratulations," Changbin said. "You're a meme now."

Chan was less amused. He paced their dorm room, pausing only to read the growing pile of news articles on his laptop:

SPIDERMAN IN SEOUL? SUPER-HERO OR SUPER-ZERO?

before rounding on Jisung. "This," he hissed, jabbing a finger at the screen, "is the opposite of keeping a low profile."

Jisung groaned into his pillow. "It was one car."

~

You'd seen the videos. Everyone had. Grainy footage of some idiot in red and blue flipping over cars and catching falling flowerpots like it was nothing. The internet had collectively lost its mind - #SpiderManSeoul was still trending and it's been a whole two weeks - but you refused to join the hype.

"Obviously fake," you muttered in the cafeteria, stabbing your chopsticks into a piece of kimchi. The table next to yours erupted into excited chatter about the latest clip, Spiderman allegedly stopping a truck from hitting a pedestrian near Hongdae.

Yunjin slammed her phone down on the cafeteria table hard enough to make your soup bowl rattle. "That's three robberies he's stopped this week," she hissed, scrolling through blurry footage. "How can you still think this is fake?"

You rolled your eyes, stirring your half cold soup. "Easy. Because physics don't work like that, and neither do people." You pointed your chopsticks at her phone screen where 'Spiderman' was currently doing something that should've snapped his spine in five places. "That's either CGI or a really dedicated performance artist with a death wish."

Across the table, Yunjin made a noise like a deflating balloon. "You're impossible." She flicked to another video, this one showing the vigilante webbing a purse snatcher to a lamppost mid sprint. "Explain that then,"

You leaned in, squinting at the pixelated mess. "Okay one, that 'web' looks suspiciously like industrial grade fishing line. Two-" you tapped the timestamp in the corner "-this was filmed at 2 AM near Hongdae. Everyone's either drunk or sleep deprived enough to hallucinate shit like this."

You snorted into your soup, watching Yunjin's face contort in frustration. "Honestly, anyone dumb enough to believe in 'Spiderman' probably thinks pigeons are government drones too." You waved a dismissive hand toward her phone. "He's probably just some adrenaline junkie with too much free time and a GoPro."

From the neighboring table, someone choked on their rice. You glanced over just in time to see Jisung wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Chan smacked him hard on his back, whether to help him breathe or silence him, you couldn't tell.

"Or," Jisung wheezed, voice still rough from coughing, "maybe he's actually helping people?" He twisted in his seat to face you fully, elbows propped on the table behind him. "Ever think of that, genius?"

Changbin groaned audibly and slid down in his chair.

You arched an eyebrow. "Didn't realize you were such a Spiderman fan, Han. Got a poster of him over your bed?"

Jisung's ears turned pink. "I'm just saying-" he jabbed a chopstick in your direction "-if someone's stopping crimes for free, maybe don't trash talk them while chewing with your mouth full."

Yunjin added "You're just jealous because you can't backflip over cars."

"I could if I wanted to," you shot back, knowing full well your athletic abilities peaked at speed walking to morning lectures.

Jisung snorted. "Sure, and I'm the queen of England."

Chan materialized between the tables. His palm hit Jisung’s shoulder with a dull thwack that knocked him forward into his bibimbap. “We’re late,” Chan announced, already dragging Jisung upright by the collar like a misbehaving kitten.

Jisung spluttered, chopsticks clattering to the tray. “Late for what?”

“The thing,” Changbin interjected smoothly, sliding out of his seat “The very important thing.”

You watched as Chan dragged Jisung toward the exit, Jisung still craning his neck to shout over his shoulder, “Ask me about my queen of England autograph later!”

Chan’s exasperated groan echoed down the hallway as the door swung shut behind them.

Left in their abrupt absence, you blinked at Yunjin. “What the hell was that about?”

She shrugged, scrolling through more Spiderman footage. “Dunno, but Han Jisung defending a vigilante’s honor is weirder than you denying literal video evidence.”

She paused the playback right as Spiderman executed a midair twist that defied every law of physics. “anyway, I think you’re just salty because Spiderman could probably out academic you and out athletic you.”

well...he literally did.

~

your disbelief in spiderman came back and smacked you right in the face.

you were at the library after you finished your lectures for the day, the library was unusually quiet for midterm season, the usual chatter replaced by the frantic scratching of pens and the occasional sniffle from sleep deprived students. You rubbed your temples, staring at the same differential equations page for forty five minutes straight. At this rate, you'd be here until sunrise, again.

Outside, Seoul had long since plunged into darkness, the campus pathways illuminated only by streetlamps. You hesitated at the library doors - your dorm was a fifteen minute walk through the least lit part of campus, but the alternative was another all nighter hunched over textbooks.

You'd taken three steps onto the pavement when the first catcall sliced through the quiet.

A group of drunk frat boys loitered near the bus stop, their laughter too loud, eyes tracking your movement.

You tightened your grip on your backpack straps and picked up the pace. Their footsteps followed, uneven against the pavement.

"Hey sweetheart, why you walking so fast?"

Your pulse jackhammered against your ribs. The shortcut through the engineering building's side alley was suddenly a terrible idea — too narrow, too dark, too isolated. You fumbled for your phone just as a hand grabbed your elbow.

Your elbow jerked instinctively, but the grip tightened. One of the drunk guys leaned in, his breath sour with soju as he slurred, "Don't be like that. We're just walking you home."

The others chuckled, closing ranks around you. Your phone slipped from your sweating fingers, clattering to the pavement.

You tried to say something, anything, but your voice came out shaky and thin, "Let go," you managed, but it sounded more like a question than a command.

The guy holding your elbow laughed, his grip tightening just enough to make your bones protest. His friends shuffled closer, their shadows swallowing the dim streetlight whole.

A second hand clamped onto your shoulder from behind. "Relax," someone slurred. "We're nice guys."

You twisted against the hold, but there were too many of them, too many hands, too many laughs, too many bodies boxing you in.

Then, movement. A flicker of red and blue in your peripheral vision. One of the drunk guys yelped as his hand was suddenly gone from your arm, yanked backward by an invisible force. The others barely had time to turn before something - someone - slammed into their midst like a human wrecking ball.

The drunk guy's hand vanished from your elbow with a wet thwip sound, followed by his startled scream as he was yanked backward into a dumpster.

His buddies whirled around - just in time to see a red and blue blur drop from the fire escape above, landing between them with a crouch.

"Hey guys," Spiderman said, tilting his head. The blank white lenses of his mask made his expression unreadable, "Didn't your moms teach you it's rude to grope strangers?"

One of the drunk guys lunged. Spiderman sidestepped without looking, webbing the guy's sneakers to the sidewalk mid swing. The dude faceplanted with a grunt, his friends gaping as he struggled against the sticky white strands now gluing his shoes to concrete.

"Oops," Spiderman said, tapping his chin. "Must've slipped."

Another guy charged. Spiderman flipped over him effortlessly, landing on the dumpster lid with a metallic clang. "Wow," he mused, watching the guy stumble past. "You're really bad at this. Like, impressively bad."

You stood frozen against the alley wall, watching Spiderman web the third guy's hands to his own jacket zipper. "There," he said, patting the stuck zipper. "Now you can't unzip or zip. Poetic, right?"

The last drunk guy made a break for it. Spiderman sighed dramatically. "Come on, man. Group project participation counts toward your final grade." A web shot out, snagging the runner's ankle mid stride.

He yelped as Spiderman reeled him in like a fish, depositing him neatly beside his webbed up friends.

Spiderman dusted off his gloves. "Alright, team huddle! Here's the deal-" he crouched to their eye level,

"-next time you think about cornering someone in a dark alley? Don't." He tapped the first guy's forehead with one finger. "Or I find you."

The drunk guys paled. Spiderman straightened, turning toward you then froze. His masked head tilted slightly, the lenses widening almost imperceptibly.

You realized three things at once

one, Your knees were shaking.

two, Spiderman was much shorter in person than the videos made him seem.

three, You'd dropped your phone and backpack during the scuffle, and your differential equations notes were now scattered across the alley like confetti.

Spiderman bent to gather your papers, his movements almost... familiar. He stacked them neatly and held them out. "You, uh. You okay?" His voice was softer now, the earlier bravado gone.

You took the notes with numb fingers. "Yeah. Thanks." The words came out hoarse.

Spiderman nodded awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Cool. Coolcoolcool." He cleared his throat. "So. Should I web these guys to a lamppost for the cops, or...?"

One of the webbed up drunks whimpered.

You swallowed hard. "Lamppost's good."

Spiderman saluted. "Lamppost it is."

Spiderman made quick work of securing the drunk guys to the nearest lamppost, his webs forming a messy cocoon around their legs. One of them hiccuped pathetically as Spiderman gave the webbing an experimental tug. "There," he said cheerfully. "Now you can reflect on your mistakes while waiting for the cops."

You hugged your notes to your chest, still processing the fact that Spiderman, the same one you'd spent weeks insisting was fake, just saved you.

"You're... shorter than I expected," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Spiderman's head snapped up. For a second, the mask's lenses just... stared.

Then he pressed a hand to his chest. "Excuse you, I'm perfectly average height for a-" He cut himself off abruptly, clearing his throat. "Anyway. You're welcome for saving your life or whatever."

"You didn't save my life," you muttered, kneeling to gather the last of your scattered pens.

Spiderman made a noise between a laugh and a wheeze. "Right. Sorry for interrupting your very important... pen collecting."

You looked up at him, "I was handling it."

"Uh huh." He crossed his arms, the red fabric stretching taut over his shoulders. "Because saying 'let go' in a squeaky voice is totally handling it."

Your cheeks burned. "I wasn't squeaky."

Spiderman's mask tilted slightly, "Sure," he drawled, dragging the word out.

You opened your mouth to retort when a police siren wailed in the distance. Spiderman's head snapped toward the sound, his posture more alert. "Right. That's my cue." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Need a swing home?"

You blinked. "A what?"

Before you could protest, he'd already grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but careful, "Do you trust me?"

"No," you said immediately.

Spiderman grinned beneath his mask - you could hear it in his voice. "Perfect."

Then he yanked you forward before you could react, making you drop your bag in the process, his other hand shooting a web line to the nearest rooftop with a sharp thwip.

Your stomach lurched violently as your feet left the pavement, the ground dropping away beneath you with terrifying speed.

You shrieked, instinctively locking your arms around his neck in a death grip as the world tilted sideways. Buildings blurred past, wind howling in your ears loud enough to drown out your own panicked breathing.

Spiderman's arm banded around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he swung into open air. "Relax!" he shouted over the rush of wind. "I've only dropped one person!"

"WHAT?!" You dug your fingers into his shoulders hard enough to bruise - if normal humans could bruise whatever weird super skin he had.

"Kidding!" He adjusted his grip slightly, angling his body to catch the updraft as he launched you both higher.

he released the web line, freefalling for one terrifying second before another thwip sent you arcing upward again. The city sprawled beneath you, the view would've been beautiful if you weren't convinced you were about to become sidewalk confetti.

"wait- you passed my dorm!" you yelled over the wind, nails digging into Spiderman's shoulders as another swing took your breath away. The familiar building of your residence hall flashed below - then vanished behind you .

Spiderman's grip tightened fractionally around your waist. "Yeah, well," he called back, voice strained from the wind and what sounded suspiciously like laughter, "you looked like you could use some fresh air!"

You tried to say something back, but your words dissolved into a startled squeak as the city tilted dizzyingly. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, but somewhere between the fourth and fifth swing, you realized your death grip had eased slightly. Maybe it was the way his arm stayed locked around your waist like a seatbelt, or how he angled his body to shield you from the worst of the wind.

"See?" Spiderman's said, "Not so bad once you stop trying to strangle me." He flipped midair just to hear you yelp, catching another webline with practiced ease.

"You're insane!" you managed, but your arms relaxed incrementally as you adjusted to the rhythm of his swings. The initial terror dulled into adrenaline, mixed with reluctant awe as Seoul sprawled beneath you in glowing grids.

The Han River flashed between buildings, and for one insane second, you understood why people did extreme sports.

Then Spiderman corkscrewed sideways without warning, shooting a web toward a higher rooftop. "check out this view!"

Before you could protest, he backflipped off the webline, sending you both soaring over a pedestrian bridge in a wide arc. Your stomach dropped straight to your shoes.

and suddenly you let out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of everything. at the fact that you were saved by spiderman in an alley, at the fact that you were finally getting your first breath of fresh air after days of being cooped up in either your room, or the library, or the lecture Hall.

The sound burst out, bright and startled against the roar of wind. Spiderman's head snapped toward you so fast, then he laughed too, the sound muffled by the mask but real, bubbling up from somewhere deep in his chest as he swung you both higher.

you spent a minute or two like that. Spiderman took a sharper turn than intended, nearly clipping a Samsung billboard with his shoulder. "Shit, sorry!" he yelped, twisting midair to avoid impact.

The sudden jerk should have terrified you, but instead you just laughed harder, your fingers loosening their death grip on his shoulders as you clung to him more out of habit than panic now.

"Are you trying to kill me?" you shouted over the wind, a smile still on your face.

"Only a little!" he called back.

Your dorm building came into view far below, Spiderman slowed his swings gradually, letting momentum carry you both downward in gentler arcs until. He landed with surprising grace on the sidewalk out front, setting you down carefully - though your legs wobbled like jelly the second your sneakers hit concrete.

"Whoa there," he chuckled, steadying you with a hand on your elbow. You swayed slightly as your feet touched solid ground again, still dizzy from the swinging.

Spiderman's gloved hands lingered on your elbows, steadying you. "You good?" His voice was softer now .

"I'm-" You swallowed hard, willing your legs to stop shaking. "I'm alive. Which is... surprising."

The adrenaline was fading now, leaving you strangely lightheaded. "I... thanks. Really." The words came out quieter than you intended, but you meant them.

"Yeah. No problem. That's kind of... the whole point of the suit." He gestured vaguely at himself, the red fabric stretching with the movement.

You snorted despite yourself. "Yeah, well. You're still insufferable."

"Ouch. And here I was going to offer you a free ride anytime."

"Hard pass," you said immediately, but you were smiling, a small, reluctant thing.

Spiderman chuckled, the sound muffled by his mask. He rocked back on his heels slightly. For a second, neither of you spoke, just stood there in the quiet aftermath, the distant city sounds filling the space between you.

Then he straightened. "Right. Don't get kidnapped again."

you smiled. "I'll try."

Spiderman gave a two fingered salute, already backing toward the alley wall. "If you do get kidnapped again-" he shot a webline upward without looking, the *thwip* cutting through the night air "-I'll be there." He tugged the web experimentally before adding, "But try not to make it a habit, yeah? My web fluid's expensive."

Before you could retort, he launched himself upward with a sudden burst of movement, the red and blue blur disappearing over the rooftop edge before you even processed the motion.

You stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the empty space where he'd been, your brain still trying to reconcile the fact that Spiderman - the same Spiderman you'd spent days dismissing as fake - had just swung you across half of Seoul.

The walk up to your dorm felt surreal. Your legs were stilll shakey, and you were still slightly dizzy.

You collapsed onto your bed fully dressed, convinced you'd lie awake replaying the night's events - then promptly passed out the second your head hit the pillow.

outside, Spiderman nearly faceplanted into a building mid swing. Because he was smiling like an absolute idiot under his mask, cheeks aching from the stupid, unstoppable smile that had been plastered on his face since he'd heard you laugh mid air.

He landed on the fire escape of their building, still buzzing with adrenaline. Peeling off the mask felt like surfacing from underwater - cool air hitting his sweaty face, the sounds of the city rushing back in clearly.

he shoved the window open, tumbling into the living room. Chan and Changbin were sprawled on the couch when Jisung crashed through the window.

Changbin glanced up from his phone. "Oh good, you didn't die." He paused his game just long enough to take in Jisung's disheveled state, mask off, hair sticking up in wild directions, and that ridiculous grin still plastered across his face. "Wait. Why do you look like that?"

"guys, you won't believe what just happened"

Jisung was halfway through inhaling to launch into his story when he froze mid breath, his eyes widening comically. "Wait - shit, her bag" He scrambled to his feet so fast he nearly tripped over.

Chan blinked. "Whose-"

"Be right back!" Jisung yanked the mask back over his head, the lenses setteling into place as he lunged for the window. "Forgot something super important"

Changbin's shout of "What the hell-" was cut off by the sharp thwip of a web line as Jisung flung himself back into the night.

~

You woke to sunlight stabbing your eyelids and the distinct sensation of having been hit by a bus.

The events of last night rushed back in - drunk guys, Spiderman, swinging through Seoul.

You groaned into your pillow, half convinced it had all been some dream.

Then a gust of wind hit your face like a slap. You squinted against the sunlight, realizing with a start that your window was wide open, and you definitely hadn’t left it that way.

you scrambled out of bed and approached your window sil. There, dangling from a single strand of web, was your missing backpack.

The backpack swung slightly as you reached out, the web strand stretching oddly. You tugged it free with a disgusting schlorp sound, and you saw a folded square of notebook paper stuck to the fabric with another glob of web.

You peeled it off with two fingers, The note was written in messy, angular handwriting that looked familiar.

you dropped this. your phone is inside too, you're welcome.

also, you snore.

- s

you stared at it, brain short circuiting between he brought my bag back and he watched me sleep?! before settling on the most pressing question, how the hell had Spiderman even known which dorm was yours? You hadn't told him. You were certain of it.

but maybe he'd just checked every single window till he found you -which would be extremely creepy, but made sense.

"There you are," Yunjin's voice cut through your spinning thoughts. You spun around to find her leaning against your doorframe, hair still mussed from sleep, squinting at you. "I was worried sick - where the hell were you last night?"

You opened your mouth - then froze. The backpack in your hands suddenly felt like damning evidence. "Library," you blurted too quickly.

Yunjin’s eyes dropped to the backpack in your hands, then narrowed at the sticky web residue still clinging to the fabric. Her gaze flicked to the note in your hands, then back to you. "Library," she repeated flatly. "Right."

She padded into your room, plucking the note from your hand with two fingers, then reading it, "You do snore," she said laughed, squinting at the handwriting. "Also, who the hell wrote this, who's 's'?" She waved the note in your face, the web glue still tacky.

You snatched it back. "no one."

She pointed at the webs on your bag. "spider webs?" Her voice pitched higher. "Did you, oh my god. Did Spiderman bring you home last night?"

She planted herself on your bed, legs crossed. "Start talking. Now." Her eyes flicked to your window, then back to you "And don’t even think about leaving out the part where Spiderman apparently knows where you live."

You sighed, sitting infront of her, "It’s not that dramatic. Some guys were being creeps last night, Spiderman showed up, webbed them to a lamppost, and then-" You hesitated, "And then he insisted on swinging me home."

Yunjin’s eyebrows shot up. "Swinging you home?" She grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly. "You swung through the city with spiderman?!"

"Yes! And it was terrifying!" You pried her hands off your shoulders. "And also... kind of amazing? But mostly terrifying. I almost threw up on him twice."

Yunjin's mouth fell open. "You- what" She grabbed your shoulders again, shaking you "You rode Spiderman?!"

"Swinging with Spiderman!" you corrected, cheeks flushing as you smacked her hands away.

Yunjin's grin turned positively feral as she flopped onto your bed, "Details. Now. How tall was he?"

"he's definitely shorter than you'd expect"

"Did he smell nice? Was he hot under the mask? Did he-"

"I didn't see his face. And you're disgusting," you hissed, chucking a pillow at her face.

"I'm invested," she corrected, hugging the pillow to her chest. "Also, I told you he was real."

You groaned, collapsing onto the bed beside her. "Okay, fine, he's real. Happy?"

"Ecstatic,"

safe to say, Yunjin wouldn't stop fangirling over this all afternoon.

~

Midterms came and went. You barely had time to process the fact that Spiderman had swung you across Seoul before exams swallowed your entire existence whole.

The only upside was that Jisung, for once, wasn't hovering around to gloat about his grades.

He seemed more busy, like he got a life or something, you'd catch him dozing off more than once, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept in days.

Winter break arrived soon after. If not at some party with yunjin, you spent most of it holed up in your bedroom, halfheartedly scrolling through Spiderman footage.

The videos had multiplied exponentially, now there were compilations of him rescuing cats from trees, stopping bike thieves, even helping an old lady carry groceries up six flights of stairs when her building's elevator broke.

The comments sections were flooded with debates about whether he was a hero, a menace, or just some guy with too much time.

You never commented. But you watched.

When the new semester started, campus was buzzing with fresh Spiderman gossip. Someone claimed they'd seen him perched on the humanities building at 3 AM.

Another swore they'd spotted him buying convenience store ramen in full costume.

Yunjin, of course, had compiled an entire folder of sightings on her phone and updated you daily despite your protests.

Jisung stumbled into Professor Kim's lecture hall seventeen minutes late, face still puffy like he'd rolled straight out of bed, which, given the pillow crease still visible on his left cheek, he probably had.

he blinked blearily at the seating chart projected on the board before shuffling toward the only empty seat in the room- right next to you, of course.

"You're late," you muttered as he collapsed into the chair with a groan.

"Yeah, well," Jisung yawned so wide his jaw cracked, "tell that to the asshole who decided 9 am classes were a good idea."

His elbow slid off the desk mid sentence, nearly knocking over your water bottle before he caught it with reflexes that were still annoyingly precise despite his obvious exhaustion.

Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, deep enough to be visible even in the lecture hall's dim lighting. and when he reached for his notebook, you caught a glimpse of fresh scrapes across his knuckles.

You didn't think much of it - Professor Kim clears her throat, and announced the semester's major project.

"Partners are assigned randomly," she said, tapping her clipboard as murmurs rippled through the lecture hall. "No swaps, no complaints. You'll be working together for the next eight weeks."

You barely had time to dread the possibilities before the projector screen lit up with the pairings list. Your stomach dropped straight to your shoes when you saw your name right next to Han Jisung's.

"Aw, we're finally spending quality time together."

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, but didn’t protest. Because - annoyingly - Jisung would a good project partner if he bothered to focus.

“Here,” you muttered, shoving your phone across the desk toward him “Put your number in before I change my mind.”

Jisung’s eyebrows shot up, he just stared at your phone. Then his face split into that infuriating smile.

“Aw,” he cooed, snatching the phone before you could reconsider. “You do care.” His thumbs flew across the screen with alarming speed. “Should I put a heart next to my name? Or maybe-”

“If you put anything besides your name and number, i'll take Chan's number and all interactions will be through him”

Jisung pouted before deleting the heart emoji he'd already typed, and then handed your phone back. "You're no fun,"

after class was over, you spotted Yunjin leaning against the courtyard railing, scrolling through her phone per usual.

The moment she caught sight of you, her eyebrows shot up, then immediately waggled suggestively as she took in your exhausted expression.

"Let me guess," she drawled, pocketing her phone with a smirk. "Spiderman swung by again? Or was it just Han Jisung being his usual pain-in-your-ass self?"

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "the latter." You paused, then sighed dramatically. "And also... we got paired for Kim's semester project."

Yunjin's eyes widened. "Oh my god. You're finally spending quality time together"

"You said the exact same thing he did," you groaned, "Word for word. I swear, both of you share the same overworked brain cell."

Yunjin snorted, "Girl, I wish I did share a brain cell with him, then maybe I'd actually be able to solve Kim's exams without wanting to yeet myself into the Han River."

you sighed, already drained from all the work you'd have to do this semester before it even started "then there's the university festival too"

"oh yea, what'cha planning to do for the big fair" yunjin said. "gonna work on something with han too?" she wiggled her eyebrows.

"absolutely not" you answered quickly, "I won't do anything, I'll just rest. yeah. I'll catch up on all the sleep I'm about to lose"

"aw, what a shame," yunjin said, then she leaned in, whispering, "Though honestly, if you really want to tap into that academic powerhouse, there are way more fun ways to-"

"Finish that thought and I'm throwing you into the Han River myself."

"I'm just sayin'," she said, dodging your attempt to push her, "both of you just need to have a good fuck for this rivalry to go away."

"Speaking of fucks," you said, leaning against the courtyard railing, "I’ll be working on the project at Jisung’s place most days. Which means our dorm will be delightfully empty."

You flicked a stray leaf off your sleeve "Feel free to bring your Tinder disasters over, just keep them away from my room, please"

Yunjin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Excuse you," she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder with exaggerated offense. "My Tinder disasters are upstanding gentlemen—"

"Who leave their boxers on your floor and eat my cereal," you deadpanned, "Just wash the sheets afterwards. And hide the good mugs."

~~~

when Jisung kicked the door open - a lethal combination of unwashed socks, stale ramen, and the faint metallic tang of something that might have been blood hit his face.

Chan looked up from his laptop just in time to see Jisung hurdle over the couch, skidding to a stop in front of the coffee table where changbin was demolishing a bag of chips.

"We have a problem," Jisung announced .

"You are the problem." changbin said.

Chan sighed, closing his laptop, "What did you break this time?"

"Nothing!" Jisung paused. "Well. Maybe the window latch. But that’s not the point." he paused. "She is coming here. To work on the project."

Changbin froze mid chip. "Who’s ‘she’-"

Chan’s eyes widened. "Oh no."

Jisung nodded frantically. "Oh yes."

Changbin’s eyes darted between them. "Wait. Are we talking about-"

"Yes," Chan groaned, already dragging a hand down his face.

Changbin’s chip bag hit the floor with a crunch. “Oh, hell no.” He scrambled up, scanning the apartment with mounting horror.

Medical supplies littered the kitchen counter, spare web cartridges rolled under the couch, and most damning jisung’s half finished suit upgrades dangled from a makeshift clothesline strung across the living room.

“We have twenty minutes to make this place look like normal people live here.”

Chan was already in motion, snatching stray web shooters off the coffee table. “Jisung, hide your suit. Changbin, take the first aid kits.” He paused mid step, “And for the love of god, air out this place. It smells like a rat died in here.”

Jisung went to yank the prototype suit off the clothesline, "It's not that bad," he protested, bundling the fabric under his arms.

The apartment was almost presentable by the time you knocked.

You stood outside their door, knocking twice, when a crash echoed from inside followed by frantic whispering.

after a minute, the door opened, revealing Changbin "Heyyyyy," he drawled, voice pitched an octave too high. "You're early"

you blinked, pointing your thumb back towards the elevator, "I can come back in a bit if you guys are busy-"

Changbin waved a hand like he was shooing away smoke. "Nah, nah, we’re good!" he stepped aside,

“Home sweet home,” Changbin announced, “Ignore the-” He gestured vaguely at a suspicious lump under a blanket that was definitely not laundry. “Decorative choices.”

You toed off your shoes at the entrance, noting with mild surprise that the apartment was cleaner than expected - though said suspicious lump under the blanket suggested they'd simply relocated the mess rather than actually cleaned it.

Chan looked up from his laptop, offering a casual salute as you stepped further into the apartment. "Hey," he said, "Jisung's in his room pretending he didn't just spend twenty minutes panic cleaning."

You snorted. "Sounds about right."

Jisung's bedroom door was slightly ajar, revealing a space that had clearly undergone a last minute excavation.

The floor was visible and his desk was suspiciously organized, textbooks stacked next to his laptop.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the doorframe. "I didn't know you owned a trash can."

Jisung spun around from where he'd been adjusting a poster that was still slightly crooked. "Shut up," he muttered, He gestured vaguely at the desk. "I set up already. Figured you'd want the, uh-" He waved his hands. "The workspace. Or whatever."

You walked in and over to the desk, project outline stared back at you from Jisung's laptop screen - neatly formatted, color-coded, and some parts were already done . You blinked. "You... started without me?"

Jisung shrugged, spinning a pen between his fingers, "Couldn't sleep last night." His knee bumped yours when you sat down, "Figured I'd get a head start before you could accuse me of slacking."

You stared at the spreadsheet he'd prepared, grudgingly impressed despite yourself. The formulas were flawless, the research sources ready, "Well. At least you're not completely useless."

"Wow. Wow. That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." he leaned closer, "Careful. Keep this up and people might think we like each other."

"get to work," you muttered, pulling your chair closer to his desk.

Jisung straightened, "Yes, ma'am."

You shook your head, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you with a twitch. He noticed instantly, and his grin widened like he'd won something.

You kicked his chair leg under the desk in retaliation, sending him wobbling sideways with a yelp.

Working with Jisung turned out to be - annoyingly - far less painful than you’d anticipated.

He had a way of cutting through your overthinking, dismantling problems you’d tangled into knots. When you got stuck on a statistical analysis, he spun his laptop around to show you a ridiculously simplified formula that somehow worked.

When he hit a dead end with the literature review, you pointed him toward three obscure sources he’d missed. It was infuriatingly efficient.

you'd also grew to realize that Jisung focused when it mattered.

Then there were the snacks. Jisung kept shoving food at you - convenience store food, but its the thought that counts “Eat,” he’d say, nudging a bar of chocolate toward you without looking up. “Your blood sugar’s crashing. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

You’d protest, but he wouldn't hear any of it until you tore open the packaging begrudgingly.

and he actually remembered things. Tiny, insignificant details you’d mentioned in passing - your preference for blue pens over black, the way you organized your citations, the fact that you always forgot to save drafts until it was too late.

Halfway through typing, your laptop would ding with a message from him You didn’t save again, genius. You’d glare at him, but he’d already be smirking at his own screen.

You didn't expect to bond with Chan and Changbin too, but somehow their apartment became your second home for the past 6 weeks.

you stayed past 10 pm once, Chan slid a takeout menu across the table. "Pick something," he said, "Jisung forgets to eat when he's focused, and you're worse than he is."

The takeout containers were long empty by the time you stretched your arms over your head, joints popping from hours hunched over textbooks.

"You should head back," His voice was casual, but his eyes flicked to the time on his phone, 11:47 PM, then back to your face. "It's late."

You sighed, gathering your notes into a pile. "I've walked home later than this."

"Yeah, and nearly got followed by drunk assholes," Jisung muttered under his breath.

"I'll be fine. It's like, twelve minutes max." You slung the strap over your shoulder.

"at least let me walk you home?" jisung asked.

"Relax. you don't have to act like my hero for the night, i'll be fine."

jisung heard the word "hero" and an idea popped into his mind. bingo

"Fine. Die in a dark alley. See if I care."

"You won't," you shot back, toeing on your shoes by the door.

"Night, guys," you called over your shoulder as you stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind you.

Inside the apartment, Jisung was already running to put his suit on before Chan caught him by the hood. "Are you serious right now?"

"I'm just gonna-" Jisung started.

"Follow her as Spiderman?" Changbin supplied, "Dude. That's creepy."

Jisung froze. "It's not creepy if I'm making sure she doesn't get murdered."

"It's extremely creepy."

"She literally said she didn't need an escort!" Changbin pointed out.

Jisung waved a hand. "She always says that."

"Because you always try to escort her!"

Jisung hesitated, just long enough for Chan to sigh and release his hood. "If you're gonna be an idiot, at least put the mask on first."

Changbin tossed a web shooter at Jisung's head. "And try not to get arrested for stalking."

Outside, you were halfway down the block when a shadow flickered across the streetlight above you. You glanced up just in time to see a blur of red and blue vanish behind a rooftop.

"Really?"

A thwip sounded overhead. Spiderman landed lightly on a lamppost ahead of you, "Fancy meeting you here," he said, voice dripping with faux surprise.

You crossed your arms. "Are you following me?"

Spiderman gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm patrolling. This is a coincidence."

"A coincidence," you deadpanned.

"Yep." He swung down to street level, falling into step beside you like this was completely normal. "Totally random."

You sighed. "I don't need an escort."

Spiderman tilted his head. "Says the person who nearly got jumped last time."

"That was one time-"

"And here I am," he said, spreading his arms wide, " not letting it happen again."

You glared at him. He smiled at you - or at least, the mask's eyes crinkled in a way that suggested a smile.

"Fine," you muttered, stomping ahead.

Spiderman matched your stomping pace, "So," he drawled, swinging around a lamppost to land directly in front of you, forcing you to halt mid step or you'd have walked straight into his chest. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out so late?"

Your ears burned "I was just coming back from a friend’s place," you muttered, sidestepping him to continue walking. "Working on a project. Unlike some people, I actually take my education seriously."

Oh the irony.

he fell into step beside you, his posture casual, "So this friend," he pressed, "What's their deal? Study buddy? Secret admirer?"

You shot him a glare. "None of your business."

Spiderman gasped, "Ouch. And here I thought we had something special." He swung ahead, landing lightly on a parked car’s roof just to force you to look up at him. "Come on, humor me. Tall? Short? cute?"

You stayed silent, refusing to dignify that with an answer. But Spiderman was nothing if not persistent, he dropped down directly in your path again, close enough that the lenses of his mask reflected your exasperated expression back at you.

"Han Jisung," you finally said, shoving past him. "My project partner. Happy?"

"Han Jisung," he repeated, "Wow. Sounds like a real catch. Bet he’s incredibly handsome and talented."

"He’s annoying," you corrected, kicking a pebble harder than necessary. "And arrogant. And-"

"And?" Spiderman prompted, suddenly right beside you again.

"And none of your concern," you finished through gritted teeth.

Spiderman made a wounded noise, "Rude. Here I am, risking life and limb to escort you safely home-"

"You invited yourself," you corrected.

"-and you won’t even indulge my harmless curiosity about your mysterious project partner." He swung ahead to perch upside down from a streetlight, "Tell me more about this Han Jisung character. Does he have any redeeming qualities? Or is he just tragically, devastatingly handsome?"

You scoffed, refusing to acknowledge how accurately that described Jisung’s stupid face. "Fine. Jisung’s... not completely terrible." You looked at the sidewalk. "He remembers stupid things. Like how I always forget to save my work, or that I hate when people highlight in yellow."

Spiderman’s mask tilted, the lenses narrowing slightly. "Wow," he said, his tone an exaggerated awe. "Truly, a monumental compliment. Does he also breathe air and occasionally blink?"

You kicked a pebble at him, which he caught mid air with a web before it could hit his chest.

"Shut up. He’s..." You hesitated, then sighed. "He’s weirdly considerate. Makes sure I eat when we’re studying. And his roommates are..." You gestured vaguely, as if that explained anything. "nice. more tolerable than him, actually. they insist on feeding me too"

Spiderman went suspiciously quiet. Then, in a voice devoid of sarcasm "They sound nice."

You snorted. "They’re menaces. But yeah. They... grew on me."

A beat of silence. Then Spider-Man dropped from the lamppost, landing softly beside you. "And Jisung?" he prompted, suddenly closer than before. "What’s his fatal flaw?"

You didn’t even have to think. "He's always right somehow. And he gloats about it. alot."

"Horrifying," he agreed solemnly. "Anything else?"

"He’s always there," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "Even when I wish he wasn’t."

The mask hid his expression, but his next words came out oddly soft. "Sounds like you’ve got it pretty bad, genius."

The familiar nickname prickled at the back of your memory, but you couldn't place it, until Spiderman abruptly straightened, realizing his mistake, clearing his throat.

"So!" he said, "How much further to your dorm?"

You narrowed your eyes at the obvious subject change. "Why? Getting tired already?"

Spiderman scoffed, "Please. I could do this all night." then shrugged "Just making conversation."

"You were doing just fine until the nickname," you pointed out, watching his lenses widen fractionally.

"What nickname?" he asked, voice pitching slightly higher.

"Genius." You tilted your head, studying his frozen posture. "Jisung calls me that."

spiderman got into character again, "Jisung calls you that?" His voice was pitched an octave higher than usual, his hands fluttering in dramatic disbelief.

"Wow. What a coincidence." He leaned closer, "Maybe l'm Han Jisung. Ever think of that, genius?"

He lowkey regret what he said the second the words came out of his mouth. but hey, reverse psychology?

you stopped walking for a second, facing spiderman, genuinely considering what he just said.

"nah" you snorted, shaking your head. "Jisung can barely walk in a straight line without tripping over his own feet." You gestured vaguely at Spiderman's lithe posture. "No way that disaster could pull off... whatever this is."

"Ouch. That hurts. I'll have you know some people find my-" he gestured at himself, "this extremely charming."

"You mean annoying," you corrected.

"Charmingly annoying," Spiderman corrected, He swung lazily ahead, landing atop the lamppost outside your dorm building.

You stopped beneath the lamppost, glancing up at Spiderman’s silhouette squatting on top of it. "This your stop, genius?" he asked, voice lilting with amusement.

"Yes," you said flatly. "And don't call me that."

"Call you what? Genius?" He leaned forward, resting his chin in one gloved hand. "Or pretty girl?"

Your face heated instantly. "Both."

Spiderman laughed, a sound that you swear you heard before.

"Fine, fine. Wouldn't want to inflate your ego too much." He swung down from the lamppost.

He turned to leave, then hesitated, just long enough to glance over his shoulder and add, voice softer than before, "Sleep tight, pretty girl."

Then he was gone, vanishing into the night sky with a thwip of webbing before you could retaliate.

you stayed glued to the pavement for a minute as you watched spiderman's figure get smaller the more he swung away, face slowly heating up.

"Talking 'bout some pretty girl," you muttered under your breath, walking to the entrance of the building

who is this guy?

~

a/n: *takes in a big deep breath* I initially meant for this to be way shorter (10k ish words) but it kinda spiraled and now its more than double that so I had to split it into two parts 😞. the second part is ready just needs proofreading and a few tweaks. hope it doesn't disappoint because I put my entire coochie and butt into this.

[vehder]

i miss u so much (pre ai internet)

[starlostjisung]

the guessing round

pairing: ot8 x 9th!member reader

genre: smut

wc: 12.7k

warnings: unprotected sex; dom!skz; sub!reader; exhibitionism; voyeurism; blindfold; fingering; oral sex (f!receiving); face sitting; light choking; edging; orgasm denial; squirting; praising; spit kink; use of toys; dirty talk; begging; threesome; overstimulation 

summary: this started as a challenge for all of the boys to make you come one day. but what if you all added new rules for today's round?

part of the wheel of pleasure series

a/n: THE WHEEL IS BACK MY LOVES 🥳 thank you so much for the love for this series, it makes me really happy seeing you interact with it and send me messages about it 🩷 this time, it's my own take of the fic that inspired this series so go read it if you haven't!! it's who's who? (sex edition) by @ddyskz

a/n2: as always, i wrote this across different nights and i proofread it quickly, so there might be some mistakes and notes to myself that i write while editing (like "change this part" or "add this here" or "continue with this") that i missed, so if you see them... no you didn't (joking 😊)

you’ve played this game before and you’re no longer a stranger to the thrill of it. the boys have always pushed boundaries but this time, they’ve added two new rules for today that make your pulse quicken: 

you won't be allowed to come until you correctly guess who’s fucking you

your eyes will stay covered the entire time

the thought alone sends a fresh wave of heat through your core, your cunt getting wet already. outside in the living room, the boys are gathered around that wheel you bought on impulse once you realised this became your thing. you can hear their voices and the occasional spin and click as they add their own filthy ideas to the slots. god knows what they’ve written this time. the idea of not knowing, of being blindfolded and at their mercy while guessing each of them makes your thighs press together instinctively. 

you’re standing in front of the mirror, taking in the sight of yourself. the lingerie clings to every curve of your body, the lace barely covering your breasts and the straps framing your hips. your fingers trace along your skin, staring at your collarbone and sliding down feeling goosebumps rising as you imagine their hands replacing yours. your nipples harden against the fabric and you let out a soft breath, close to a moan. 

then an idea hits you - a way to turn the tables, to play your own game within theirs. you reach back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor before you grab your panties and take them off too. completely naked now, you grab your robe, and tie it loosely around your waist. if they want to control the rules, you’ll match them with your own. 

you open the door and leave the room, closing the door behind you. the moment you get to the living room the boys freeze and move quickly to hide the wheel, hiding whatever filthy things they’ve scrawled on it. their eyes rake over you, taking in the robe and how it parts just enough to show a sliver of skin, so short they can see the curves of your thighs. 

“are you guys ready?”, you ask them and they reply with a chorus of yeses, “i’ve thought of something today since, you know, you’ve added your own rules and i think it’s only fair that i add my own rules too”

they’re curious instantly, leaning forward, their eyes still locked on you.

“okay, what do you want to add?”, changbin says.

“well, you all seem to really like the sounds i make while i’m in my room, getting fucked by the others”, you say as you watch their reactions, “so i thought that you should get a glimpse of what’s going on too”

some of them catch on immediately - minho’s eyes darken with hunger as his cock visibly twitches in his boxers, chan lets out a low groan as his hand presses against his growing bulge. others simply look confused for a moment, like jeongin whose cheeks flush just from looking at you, or seungmin, whose face seems to be still lost on your thighs. 

“we’re gonna do it in the living room today”, you say as you gesture towards the massive sofa you all bought for the dorm, “so that everyone can enjoy the show”

han’s mouth falls open as a “fuck yes” escapes him when he imagines watching you get taken apart right there, felix bites his lips already imagining the view and his hand moves to palm himself. changbin chuckles darkly, muttering something about how filthy this is getting while chan just nods his head with a grin that promises he’ll be front and centre. 

“okay”, hyunjin says, “if that’s what you want then we’ll do it that way”

you smirk at him, before speaking again, “perfect, but that was only my first rule”

they look at you, a mix of confusion and hunger as they think about the different possibilities now. but instead of telling them, your fingers move to the belt of your robe and you untie it, letting the fabric fall to the floor, leaving you naked in front of them all, your nipples hard and your cunt already slick and visible as you stand there in front of them.

“before i cover my eyes”, you say, your voice dropping, “you all have to get naked too. now”

they don’t hesitate, not when they are looking at you like that, not when they seem to be under your spell. they move quickly, scrambling to obey you, as their boxers fly and they get completely naked too, the game truly beginning now. 

you hum in deep contentment as your eyes sweep over them, taking in the sight of every single one of them. their cocks stand hard and flushed, some already leaking at the tip from the sheer anticipation of what’s about to happen. without another word, you turn and walk towards the table where you left the black silk blindfold before, and you feel their hungry stares follow every movement. 

you pick up the smooth fabric, letting it slide through your fingers, and then you walk towards the sofa. the cushions dip as you settle in the middle, spreading your thighs just enough to give them all a teasing glimpse of your already glistening folds before you lift the silk to your eyes. the world goes dark as you tie the blindfold securely behind your head, the knot firm but comfortable.

“i’m ready whenever you are”, you tell them, your voice low and steady as you offer yourself up.

your other senses sharpen immediately and your pulse races, your skin prickling with goosebumps. wetness pools between your legs, your pussy lips swelling and parting with every move you make, your arousal dripping down to the cushion beneath you.

you sit there for a few seconds that stretch into an eternity of waiting, then, you feel the sofa shift as the first one sits with you. his warm breath ghosts over your neck first, followed by the soft press of his lips, kissing you from the sensitive spot below your ear down to the hollow of your throat. he then moves upwards, brushing those same soft lips across your cheek, then the other, before they finally claim your mouth. 

the kiss deepens then as your tongues slide together. his hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as the kiss turns filthy, your tongues fighting for dominance and moving into each other’s mouth with growing urgency. 

“fuck, look at that”, you hear han saying somewhere in the room, “i don’t know if i’m gonna survive watching this”

“she’s already so wet”, jeongin mutters, and you can hear just how turned on he is right now.

their words wash over you, turning you on even more, as the mystery mouth keeps devouring yours. you bite down on his lower lip, just hard enough to draw a sharp and unmistakable moan from deep in his chest, and you recognise him instantly.

“felix”, you say.

he groans louder, the sound raw and desperate and then he crashes his mouth back onto yours, even hungrier this time. his lips move faster against yours, his teeth biting your lower lip now and his hands start roaming freely now that the guess has been made. 

he pushes you backwards onto the sofa, his body following yours down until he’s settled between your spread thighs. his skin presses against yours and his hard cock brushes against your hip as he adjusts his body. one of his hands traces a slow and deliberate path down your body, his fingers skimming over your collarbone before they move to circle each nipple until they ace. then, he slides his hand lower across your stomach until he reaches the apex of your thighs and pauses there. 

“f-felix, please”, you say, your voice breaking as your body moves closer to him, “i already guessed… please”

he kisses you again and then his fingers move to trace the puffy lips of your pussy with strokes so light you almost think you’re imagining them. the touch is maddeningly light, circling your entrance without pushing inside, gathering the slick wetness that coats you and spreading it upwards to brush your swollen clit.

“god, y/n, you look so hot like this”, he moans against your lips and you try to answer but the words won’t find you. 

you arch into his touch, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he continues teasing you.

“felix, please”, you say again.

two fingers finally part your folds and sink into your tight cunt, and he curls them to stroke that sensitive spot inside you.

“oh, f-fuck, yes. j-just like t-that”, you moan, arching your body towards him even more.

he moves them steadily inside you, as his thumb starts to circle your clit, making your hips buck. you can hear the sounds of his fingers inside you, the wet squelch of his fingers as he works your dripping pussy and your own moans start to get louder.

“jesus christ… we can hear how soaked she is”, hyunjin says as his breath catches, followed by a curse from a voice you don’t recognise, you’re so lost in your own pleasure that everything around you is fading away, moving to a place you can’t reach. 

felix adds a third finger in, stretching you as he fucks them in and out of you, moving faster now, his palm grinding against your clit with every thrust. pleasure coils inside you, you’re getting closer now, you were already turned on before you all started, and now having felix like this, with his fingers inside you, your eyes covered, and the knowledge that the others are watching you and getting hard from this just makes you reach your breaking point faster.

“f-felix, i… i-”

“i know. come on, come for me, sunshine, show them how good i’m making you feel with just my fingers”, he says, his lips moving to your neck now, biting there and making you scream louder. 

that’s all you need to break and then, your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you.

“felix!”, you scream his name then and that’s when you break.

your body shakes as your pussy pulses and gushes around his fingers, your wetness soaking his hand and the sofa beneath you. he doesn’t stop fingering you, drawing your orgasm with slower and deeper moves until you’re trembling and oversensitive, gasping for air against his skin. 

you can hear the boys groanning in the room, their eyes fixed on your quivering body on the sofa. felix’s fingers remain buried inside you, gentle now, as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your parted lips. then he takes his fingers out and you whimper at the loss, trying to close your thighs instinctively, but his body between them won’t let you.

“mmhm”, he moans as he licks his fingers clean, “you taste so good, sweetheart. i can’t believe, this is all ours. you’re ours”

you reach blindly for him, pulling him closer to you as your lips crash together again. your tongues slide together as you explore each other's mouths and then your hand moves down to grab his cock, your fingers wrapping around it - it’s hard, hot and twitching against your palm. he groans into your mouth and his hips buck forward, grinding against your grip in a desperate roll. your thumb catches the precum on his tip and you move it, making the slide slick and filthy as you stroke him from base to tip. 

“felix”, you hear minho calling his name from across the room, reminding him of the rules you assume. 

felix freezes and then he pulls back just enough to pant against your lips.

“fuck… i can’t do this”, he says, his voice completely hoarse, and when you reach for him again, he catches your wrist, stopping you once more, “i can’t, sunshine… not yet. rules, you know”

with a final whimper from you and a lingering brush of his lips against yours, he moves from you, leaving you aching and empty on the sofa.

you lie there exposed, your thighs still parted from his earlier position and your body still humming from your orgasm. you can hear the low groans of the others and you can feel their eyes devouring every inch of you.

“look at her, she’s dripping everywhere”

“she’s so fucking ready”

you’re still so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t recognise their voices, but just hearing them and knowing they’re waiting for their turn with you while they get to see you breaking apart with the others makes your nipples tighten and fresh wetness seep from your swollen pussy lips onto the sofa once more. 

the sofa dips again under new weight and then a different body settles between your spread thighs, his warm skin pressing close to you and his already hard and leaking cock brushing your inner thigh as he lowers himself fully onto you. 

he wastes no time and moves straight to your ear, his mouth sucking the lobe between his lips before his teeth graze and bite down just enough to send a jolt straight to your core. you gasp, arching your back as his tongue soothes the sting and then he moves, trailing kisses along your jaw before he moves to your lips, catching your mouth in a hot and fiery kiss. 

from there, he descends lower, his lips and tongue mapping a path of fire down your neck and collarbone until he reaches your breasts. he moves to one nipple, sucking hard while his hand cups the other and his thumb flicks it. 

“oh g-god, don’t s-stop”, you say, arching your body again.

the wet pull draws another moan from you when he switches side. he bites your nipple and pleasure sparks inside you, pooling heavily in your stomach and making your cunt clench around nothing. he starts moving again, his mouth hot and insistent over the curve of your stomach, nipping at the soft ski there, his tongue dipping into your navel before dragging lower.

finally, he reaches your cunt, spreading your folds with his fingers just enough to expose your slick entrance and swollen clit. a long and slow lick drags from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit, his tongue pressing firmly against every sensitive fold and gathering your arousal in one deliberate stroke.

the sensation rips a long and high groan from your throat, raw and needy, as your hands move to tangle in his hair, gripping and pulling him closer to you.

“f-fuck, i…”, you try to say, but the words fail you.

“y/n, remember you have to guess before you can come”, you hear someone saying, changbin you think.

“i- i”, you try again, but you can only focus on his tongue on your cunt.

your mind spins in the darkness of the blindfold, every nerve ending lit up like fire under his relentless mouth. the wet heat of his tongue drags slowly at first, flattening against your lower lips before circling your clit, making your hips jerk upwards. he sucks your clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. your thighs tremble around his head, your muscles trembling as you keep dripping and soaking his chin, dripping down onto the sofa again.

you strain to focus, trying to guess who it could be. it feels possessive, almost desperate, like he’s been starving for this for a long time. your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging harder, trying to think who could be this desperate for you, who could be eating you out like he was a man craving for your taste, and that’s when you realise.

“s-seungmin… it’s you, seungmin”, you gasp out, your hips moving against his face.

he pulls back, his lips glistening with your wetness, “i’ve been waiting for this for a long time, like the good boy i am for you, your puppy”

his mouth seals over your cunt again, his tongue thrusting deep inside while his nose presses against your clit, grinding in small circles that send sparks shooting up your spine. your back arches off the sofa again, your eyes squeezed shut behind the silk as your orgasm starts growing again, your pussy pulsing and fluttering around his tongue. 

your cries and moans and the sound of seungmin licking and sucking you as he eats you out are not the only sounds in the room. you hear groans from the watching boys and voices saying things your mind can’t comprehend right now. your orgasm grows faster now, your body rocking instinctively, chasing the friction, but seungmin senses the tightening in your core and the way your moans pitch higher and your thighs clamp around his ears and stops. he stops abruptly, pulling away with a final lick that leaves you whimpering at the edge.

“wait, wha-”

“get on your knees”, he tells you, his voice not leaving room for hesitation.

you scramble to obey him, your limbs shaky and uncoordinated from your denied release, but his hands guide you, helping you shift positions until you’re upright and then lowering again. he lies back on the sofa beneath you, his head positioned perfectly between your spread legs.

“sit on my face and ride me”, he says, pulling your hips down without waiting.

you sink onto him without thought, lost in the haze and your pleasure, your soaked pussy pressing fully against his mouth as his tongue starts moving against you again. the new angle lets him devour you deeper, his tongue spearing up into your entrance while his lips suckle at your clit with every grind of your hips. 

you moan loudly, your hands moving to brace on the sofa as you rock back and forward, your breasts bouncing with each movement.

“oh god. minnie, j-just like that… you’re d-doing so g-good”, you say, your voice broken as you praise him.

your wetness smears across his face, soaking his cheeks and chin as he groans into you.

“fuck, i can’t take this anymore”, you hear a new voice, felix, you recognise him instantly, and then you hear the sound of his hand stroking his cock as he watches you.

you can picture it clearly - his eyes locked on your bouncing breasts, on your nipples begging for attention, on your cunt riding seungmin’s face, on your ass flexing as you grind down harder on seungmi’s tongue. you hear other voices too and you’re sure he’s not the only one who has his hand on his cock watching you right now. 

“you taste to fucking good, y/n, i’ve waited for this for so long”, seungmin says against your cunt before he moves closer to suck your clit again. 

it’s overwhelming - his mouth on you, the rest watching and touching themselves, the knowledge that every eye is on your naked body, the way that you have all of them eating out of the palm of your hand, you think you can go insane from all this. 

you feel your orgasm getting close again and your hips start moving faster, riding his face more now, your clit dragging over his lips and nose with each roll of your hips.

“please, minnie, d-don’t stop. you’re such a good boy for me, make me come, puppy, p-please”, you say, your moans turning to broken pleas.

he groans against you and grabs your thighs, pulling you even closer to him, his lips desperately eating you out now and that’s all it takes for you to break. your orgasm crashed through you as your pussy soaks his face in a hot flood that he laps up greedily, his tongue continuing to work against your lips even as overstimulation sets in.

you twitch and gasp, trying to lift away but his hands hold you firm against him until the pleasure borders on too much, forcing you to shift sideways with a whimper, your body trembling and slick. your legs feel like jelly but seungmin helps you ease back down onto the sofa. he moves closer to you, his breath warm against your lips as he moves to kiss you. you pull him closer, your fingers moving to his hair again as you taste yourself on his tongue.

“you taste so fucking good, y/n”, he says against your mouth, “i’ve dreamt about this for so long… having you like this, riding my face…”

he kisses you one last time, his tongue sliding against yours, before he pulls away with a soft groan and stands up, leaving you sprawled and waiting, hearing the sounds of groans and hands stroking cocks somewhere in the room. 

this time, it isn’t long before the sofa dips again and someone sits down close to you. his strong hands guide you upright, then move you until you’re sitting on top of him with your back pressed against his broad chest and your legs draped wide over his thighs. 

this position leaves you completely exposed - even more than before lying on the sofa - and now your dripping cunt is on full display for the room, the air kissing your swollen folds as fresh arousal trickles down to soak his skin already. you can feel his hard cock throbbing against the small of your back, his precum already smearing across your spine as he shifts beneath you. 

your hips roll instinctively, grinding back against his cock, seeking for fiction, anything, but his grip tightens on your thigh.

“shh”, he whispers, but it’s not enough for you to completely recognise his voice, and then one of his hands moves to your leg to hold you still for him. 

his other hand begins its slow ascent, his fingertips trailing deliberately from the slick mess at your navel upwards. they skim over the curve of your stomach, pausing there to trace the underside of your breast before grabbing it fully, his thumb brushing your nipple making you moan.

“oh, f-fuck”, you moan, your mouth falling open as you arch your back.

his hand starts moving again, higher still, his palm gliding along your collarbone to your neck. his fingers wrap lightly around your throat, squeezing a bit at first and then just holding you, tilting your head back towards him. 

his mouth finds yours in a hungry kiss, his lips parting yours before his tongue moves deep into your mouth, making you whimper into him. your body arches under his touch again and you start moving, your hips searching for more, but he stops you once more, his hand on your thigh pressing down firmly. 

with a low grunt, he lifts you up a bit, just enough to nudge the head of his cock against your soaked entrance. he teases there, circling and spreading your wetness but never pushing inside. your cunt clenches desperately, trying to suck him in, but he won’t let you.

“p-please”, you say, moaning against his lips, “do something… anything”

your voice cracks with need as you chase his mouth for another taste. your thighs tremble over his, your cunt visibly pulsing and leaking, coating his cock and dripping down to soak the sofa beneath you both. 

the other boys keep groaning around you, the wet sounds of their hands pumping their cocks echoing as they watch you.

“a name first”, chan reminds you from somewhere nearby.

you try to think, but he just keeps teasing you, his cock nudging but never entering. the head circles your entrance again and again, dipping just the tiniest bit to stretch your rim before pulling back, leaving you empty and aching. you keep begging against his lips, almost crying now, your words tumbling out of your mouth in broken moans.

“please, fuck, i need it- i- i need your cock inside me, i can’t take it anymore”, you say as tears of frustration prick at your eyes under the blindfold, and your hips twitch uselessly in his iron grip. 

then he does something - he leans in to bite down hard on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, sucking the skin there between his teeth. that familiar bite, the way his teeth sink in while his other hand squeezes your thigh, makes everything click into place.

“m-minho”, you gasp out, his name spilling from your lips as you moan again.

“fucking finally”, minho growls against your skin and without warning, he slams you down fully onto his cock, burying every inch deep inside your soaked cunt.

you let out the biggest moan of the day, your walls stretching around him at the sudden fullness. your head falls back against his shoulder, your body jolting as he starts fucking you from this positions, his hips snapping against your ass to drive into you relentlessly. 

every thrusts hits that spot inside you, the head of his cock grinding against it over and over again, making your vision blur behind the blindfold, making you almost lose control there and then.

his teeth stay on that spot between your neck and shoulder, biting and sucking more marks into your skin while his cock moves in and out of your dripping cunt. your arousal splashes out around his cock, coating his balls and thighs. you move against him desperately, rolling your hips to meet every move of his, your spread legs trembling as the others watch your pussy get pounded open.

“that’s it”, he says into your neck, “you can take this… good girl”

one of his hands moves to wrap around your throat again and he turns your head towards him, his tongue moving deep into your mouth as he bites your lower lip, gaining another moan from you. 

“you’re so fucking tight around me”, he says agasint your lips, “been waiting for this as the others had their fun with you”

he bites your lip again, tugging it between his teeth as you beg him for more, your voice not doing anything to hide how desperate you are for him.

“harder, minho- please, don’t s-stop, i- i can take it”

“you can take it, i know you can”, he says.

his other hand moves to your spread thighs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight and fast circles that make your whole body tremble.

“look at her”

“she’s not gonna last”

the voices again, but you don’t focus on them, you can’t. the only thing you can focus on is minho - his lips against yours, his hand on your throat and the other on your clit as he keeps fucking you.

“m-minho, i… i-”

“come on, come for me now, show they how good i’m fucking you”

he says before he moves to your lips again, biting your lower lip once more. you both come together, your cunt clamping down around his cock as you gush and squirt over his hand and the sofa. minho groans loudly into your mouth, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with hot and thick ropes of cum, thrusting through both your orgasms until you’re spent and limp against his chest. 

you can feel the wet mess you’ve made together as your cunt still clenches around him. his hand stays firm on your throat, holding you in place as he turns your head towards him again. his lips crash against yours again, his tongue sliding in to claim your mouth one more time.

“good girl”, he whispers against your lips, his voice still rough, “i told you you could take it”

his words send a fresh shiver through you and he kisses you once more, biting your lower lip before pulling back just enough to move your spent body down onto the sofa again.

“oh god, this is insane, this is so hot”, you hear hyunjin saying and someone hums, agreeing with him. 

you sink into the sofa, your legs still spread open and your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. your skin feels flushed and slick with sweat and the evidence of what you’ve been doing, your nipples still tight and aching, and your cunt still throbbing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, or rather, or your orgasms. you can feel minho’s cum still dripping from your cunt, warm and sticky, mixing with your own juices on the sofa beneath you. 

then you feel the shift of weight behind you and a warm body lies down along your back, moving you just enough for him to press you flush against his body from shoulders to thighs. his chest molds to your spine and his breath is warm on your neck as he starts placing kisses there.

each kiss is gentle at first, his lips brushing the skin below your ear and then he starts trailing down to your shoulder with light sucks that makes your breath hitch. his hand begins tracing your body as his fingertips glide over your hip and up your side, avoiding the spots where you need him the most at first, just to make you tremble and beg for him.

“o-oh, don’t stop”, you tell him.

his hand continues moving, sliding lower now as he moves to trace the curve of your waist and then dips between your legs. you moan and turn your head towards his, seeking his mouth. 

his lips find yours instantly and your hand reaches up as your fingers thread into his hair, tugging as the kiss deepens. your tongues slide against each other while his fingers finally reach your swollen clit. he starts circling it with feather-light strokes at first, building pressure gradually until your hips twitch forward into his touch.

“m-more… please…”, you say, moaning against his mouth.

he responds by pressing two of his fingers lower, sliding them through your slick folds before pushing inside your cunt with a smooth thrust. 

“oh, f-fuck… yes-”

the stretch feels perfect, his fingers curling just right to stroke that sensitive spot inside you. your walls clench around his fingers, still sensitive from minho but already greedy for more. at the same time, your hand moves down between your bodies and wraps around his cock, which is hot and hard in your hand, twitching as you stroke him, your thumb moving to spread the precum already on his tip. 

he groans against your mouth, the sound whiny and desperate, his hips bucking into your grip, and you recognise him instantly, no room for doubt this time.

“jisung…”

his groan vibrates against your lips as your fingers wrap tighter around his cock. han kisses you harder while his fingers keep working inside your cunt, stretching you open, as you soak his knuckles from how wet you still are.

“fuck, baby, you feel so good… you’re so wet for me already”, he pulls away from you just enough to talk and then moves closer, devouring your lips again.

his fingers stop moving and then he removes them, making you whine against his lips.

“j-jisung…”, you try to say his name again.

“shh, it’s okay, baby, i’m here, i’m not going anywhere”, he says.

his hand moves to your thigh, lifting your leg and draping it over his hip before his hand goes back to your cunt, entering three fingers this time. the new angle forces your legs wider, exposing your swollen pussy completely to the boys again. han’s cock throbs harder against your lower back, his precum already painting your skin-

“look at you, baby, all spread out like this”, he says, his lips brushing your ear as he talks you through every move, “the boys can see everything now, you know? they can see your pretty pussy dripping, begging to be filled again, begging to be filled with my cock now”

you moan at his words, trying to catch his lips again, but he moves away from you, speaking again. 

“you want that, don’t you, baby? you want me to slide right in while they all watch you, begging for me, right?”

his fingers never stop circling your clit, pressing firmer now, making your hips buck back against him.

“y-yes, please… i-i need you”, you say.

your hand stays tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as you moan into another kiss. he shifts behind you, lining up his cock with your entrance. the tip nudges you from behind, parting your puffy lips before he pushes slowly inside you, until he sinks into your cunt completely, stretching you around him.

“f-fuck, baby. you feel so good”, he says, groaning against your lips.

the sensation is overwhelming, your cunt gripping him as your walls still flutter from your last orgasm. he groans deep in his throat, his hips rolling forward until he’s buried to the hilt, his balls pressed against you.

“ji- jisung, i-”, you try to say, but your voice breaks in another moan.

“that’s it, baby”, he says, his voice strained with his own pleasure, “take everything. you feel how deep i am inside you? that’s your pussy, sucking me in so tight… f-fuck”

he starts thrusting, slow at first, pulling almost all the way out before he dives back in. each stroke is accompanied by his fingers on your clit, never stopping, never moving away from there, as he keeps rubbing in time with his hips.

“oh, god, f-fuck… don’t stop, please”, you say, you’re sure you’re almost begging at this point, but you don’t even care. 

your leg hooked over his keeps you wide open, the rest of the boys getting a perfect view of han’s cock disappearing into your cunt and the way your folds stretch around him as your cum leaks out with every thrust. 

your hand tightens in his hair, pulling him down for another messy kiss as he picks up the pace. han talks you through it all, his breath hot against your lips as his skin slaps against yours.

“yes baby, just like that, good girl. squeeze me- fuck, yes… you’re so close already. i can feel you gripping my cock”, he says, biting and licking your lip before he devours your mouth again, “let go for me, baby. come on my cock while the boys watch you fall apart because of me”

his fingers work your clit relentlessly, pinching and circling until your orgasm grows and grows and you can’t do anything to stop it. your body trembles harder, your thighs shaking and your pussy clenching as the orgasm crashes over you.

“that’s it”, he says, “let go, baby”

you cry out into his mouth, your body convulsing and shaking as you come all over his cock. his hips snap forward as his cock moves deep into your clenching cunt as your orgasm pulls you apart. he groans loud against your lips, the sounds that are coming from him completely raw and desperate.

“fuck, yes- just like that, baby, you’re doing so good”, he pants as his fingers still rub circles on your clit even as your juices gush out around his cock, soaking him even more.

his balls smack against your ass with every move and he buries himself to the hilt one final time, his cock twitching inside you as he starts to come. hot and thick ropes of his cum, mixing with minho’s cum from before, and your own fluids, overflowing and leaking out down your thighs onto the sofa.

his body shudders against your back, his breath ragged as he grinds through the aftershocks, pumping every drop deep while his lips find yours again. he doesn’t pull out right away, letting you both ride the high as you hear the boys around you, and his fingers start slowing down on your clit, the lazy strokes making you twitch and whimper now.

finally, with a low sigh, he slips out of you, his softening cock now free and a fresh gush of your mixed cum following it out. he moves you carefully onto your back on the sofa, your body still trembling. he moves on top of you, his body pressing you down as he captures your mouth in another kiss, your tongues sliding and exploring each other. his hands move to your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks while he pours everything into the kiss, drinking in your moans.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his voice low and teasing as he smirks at you, your eyes still covered under the silk.

“you ready for more already, baby?”, he says.

you nod your head, a moan escaping your lips at the thought of his cock entering you again even though it just left your body mere seconds ago. your hands slide up his chest as you lean up to kiss him again, hungry for whatever he might give you next. he laughs softly, the sound warm and amused, and moves down, just enough to nip at your bottom lip.

“you’re so greedy, fuck. look at you, still dripping and already begging without even catching your breath”

he kisses you once more and then he pushes himself, standing up.

“you’re next”, you hear him say, but to who? you’re not sure, but something tells you that you’re not gonna have to wait long.

and you’re right because it’s not even a minute before another body settles over you, his strong and long hands grabbing your ankles and spreading them wider, pushing your legs apart until your thighs burn with the stretch.

he lowers himself between your open legs, his breath hot against your skin as he starts leaving kisses at your ankle, just soft and open-mouthed kisses trailing upwards as his tongue flicks out to taste your skin.

he moves slowly, like he has all the time in the world for this, pressing his lips to the sensitive inside of your knee and sucking lightly there before continuing higher along your inner thigh. his touch is soft yet teasing, his mouth inching closer and closer to your swollen and cum soaked cunt with every kiss.

but just as his lips hover near your dripping folds, he changes his path, kissing around it and circling the sensitive area without touching where you need him the most, his tongue moving to trace the crease of your thigh instead. 

you can’t help it, your hips buck up towards his face, desperate for contact, your body still quivering from your previous orgasms and the new one that’s coming from just his lips on your skin. you want more, you need more and you will do whatever it takes to get it.

a needy whimper escapes your lips as you beg him, your voice hoarse and broken, “oh god… p-please, touch me, fuck, i… i need your mouth on me, please”

his hands slide up your body in response, his palms cupping your breasts as his fingers start rolling your nipples hard enough to send sparks straight to your dripping cunt and forcing a broken scream from your throat.

“oh, fuck… m-more, please”, you say, your back arching off the sofa as he tugs and flicks your nipples again and again. 

he twists them just right, tugging and flicking while his mouth continues its torturous path along your thighs, avoiding your clit and your entrance entirely, building the frustration until you’re writhing beneath him. his tongue keeps dragging wet stripes along your skin, and every avoided brush builds the frustration higher, your thighs shaking and your hips rolling in search of friction that never quite lands where you crave it most.

one of his hands moves to capture yours, your fingers intertwining and the size and shape of his hand hits you instantly - it’s big and slim, elegant yet strong.

“h-hyunjin”, you gasp, his name tumbling out raw and broken.

he chuckles low against your thigh, his breath ghosting over your skin and his lips brushing your skin as he speaks, “hi, muse”

then he dives straight in without warning, his tongue flattening against your clit in one long, filthy lick before sucking your swollen clit between his lips. your whole body jolts like you’ve been shocked, a loud scream of his name tearing from your throat.

“hyunjin!”

the sound of your scream echoes off the walls and you can hear the others moaning and groaning, their voices rough with their own arousal as they watch you fall apart under hyunjin’s attention, some of their hands moving to their cocks again as they watch you. 

hyunjin doesn’t stop, though. one of his hands is still gripping yours firmly while the other keeps pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers mercilessly. his mouth works your cunt with dedication, his tongue thrusting deep into your entrance to lap at the mess inside then circling back to suck and flick your clit.

your hips buck wildly against his face, grinding down in search of more pressure, your thighs clamping around his head only for him to grab your legs and pull them over his shoulders, spreading you open for him even more. 

“hyunjin, i… i- oh my god, d-don’t stop”, you say, as he devours your pussy now.

“that’s it, muse”, he growls against you, the vibrations making you sob and choke on air, “ride my tongue. you look so fucking pretty like this all spread out and dripping while i suck on your pretty cunt”

he moves to suck your clit again, hard and fast, while his fingers twist your nipple in time with the rhythm of his mouth.

“come for me, muse. i wanna watch you shatter so i can draw every detail later”, he says, his words making you moan loudly again, “i wanna draw the way your mouth falls open, how you thighs tremble, your hand grabbing mine, the exact shade your pussy turns when it’s stuffed full and leaking”

his words push you over the edge hard. your orgasm crashes through you in waves as your pussy clenches and gushes around his tongue while you scream his name again. your body can’t stop moving, convulsing as your hips jerk uncontrollably against his face. he keeps licking you through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking and oversensitive, whimpering broken pleas.

“please, hyunjin, i… i-”

you’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you’re not sure if you want more or for him to stop. hyunjin lets your hand go and then moves his hand to your face, sliding his fingers up to your lips.

“open”, he says and you obey instantly, parting your mouth wide for him.

he lowers his head to give your clit one last slow suck, his tongue swirling as your body moves closer to him, trying to ride his face again. then, he moves over you, his weight settling between your spread legs. he leans down and spits directly into your open mouth - a thick and warm mix of his saliva and the taste of your own cum.

you swallow it greedily and then, his mouth crashes onto yours in a deep and messy kiss, both of you moaning loud into each other as his tongue pushes the mix between your lips, and your hands now moving to roam his body while the others keep watching you. 

your fingers slide down his chest until they wrap around his cock, giving it one slow stroke as your thumb swipes over the tip to spread his precum. hyunjin groans deep into your mouth as his hips jerk forward, fucking into your hand before he catches himself. he breaks the kiss with a sharp gasp and then grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away.

“fuck… muse, no, not today. the wheel didn’t say that”, his voice is rough and strained, like it hurts him to stop you, like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. 

he kisses you again and then pushes himself off you, leaving you empty and aching on the sofa while he stands up. you hear him groan again, low and frustrated, as he walks over to join the others.

you lie there with your legs still spread and your cunt dripping and twitching from all your orgasms. you can feel their eyes burning into you, watching every quiver and every drop that leaks from your hole. your nipples tighten again just from being stared at like this. you hear them talking, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. after a bit, you open your mouth to say something, anything, wanting to know what’s taking them so long, but changbin’s voice cuts through first. 

“hold tight, princess”

just as he says it, you feel strong arms sliding under you, one behind your back and the other under your thighs. you’re lifted effortlessly, your arms looping around a warm neck, you can’t tell who it is yet. your bare ass brushes against his hard cock as he carries you and then, you’re lowered onto something cool and flat, the table.

“much better”, you hear someone saying.

the same boy who carried you guides you down until your back meets the hard surface. he takes your wrists and places your hands on the edges of the table, your fingers curling around it. then, he steps between your legs, gripping your thighs and spreading them wide. you feel another rush of wetness seep out, your body already reacting to the exposure and the anticipation until you hear a soft and low buzz that makes your clit throb on instinct. 

your vibrator, someone has it.

how does he have it? 

when did he get it?

was that what they were talking about before?

the sound moves closer, the vibrator circling your spread thighs without touching you yet. your hips twitch upwards, chasing the noise, desperate for that first contact. the boy between your legs keeps you pinned open, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your cunt, but never quite reaching where you need it.

your nipples ache and every breath you take, makes them brush against the air. you can feel every pair of eyes locked on your body, on your dripping pussy, on the way your entrance clenches around nothing, on the vibrator hovering just out of reach. 

the buzz grows louder as it nears your clit, close enough that you can feel the faint vibration in the air but still not touching you. a broken whimper slips from your throat then, because you’re already so wet that it’s running down to the table beneath you, and the teasing only makes more leak out.

“p-please… do something”, you beg whoever is doing this to you. 

the boy holding your legs shifts, pressing his cock against your inner thigh, hard and hot, but he doesn't push inside. he lets you feel the weight of his cock while the vibrator finally brushes your swollen clit in one teasing pass. your whole body jolts and you scream, the contact is brief, sending sparks straight through your body. then he pulls it away again, leaving you gasping and rolling your hips in search of more. 

“no, no, please, don’t stop”, you say.

you hear minho’s low chuckle from somewhere near your head.

“look at her, already dripping again”, he says.

the vibrator returns, this time pressing flat against your clit and stays there now. the steady buzz shoots through you like lightning and your back arches off the table, as a loud and broken moan tears from your throat. your hands grip the table even tighter, your knuckles turning white. 

the boy spreads you even wider, his fingers now moving to pull your folds apart so the vibrator can work directly on your exposed clit. your thighs start shaking almost immediately. the previous orgasms have left you hypersensitive and this constant and relentless vibration is too much but not enough at the same time.

“p-please, i… i need m-more”

you can feel your cunt clenching and pulsing, trying to grab onto something that isn’t there. the boy leans down and nips at your earlobe then moves to your neck while the vibrator circles your clit, changing pressure and the angle every few seconds so you never get used to it. your hips buck wildly, chasing the sensation, but he keeps you pinned, not letting you move. every time you get close, the vibrator pulls back just enough to keep you on the edge.

the vibrator moves lower, sliding through your soaked folds and teasing your entrance without pushing in. it collects your wetness and then drags back up to your clit. the sudden change makes you scream and your back arches off the table again. your fingers claw at the table edges, trying hard to hold on, but you’re so close it hurts.

“p-please”, you gasp, your voice wrecked, “please, i… i need-”

the boy moves his head again to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “still not recognise me?”

it’s jeongin’s voice. 

the vibrator presses harder right on your clit before he moves it and finally enters you, and your hips jerk up again, already chasing the next orgasm that’s already growing inside you.

“oh g-god… jeongin!”

he laughs, completely pleased with himself, then he crashes his mouth onto yours. his teeth nip your lower lip hard enough to sting before his tongue pushes past your lips. you moan into him, the sound swallowed as he bites down again. then, his mouth leaves yours to trail down your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin,just like the others did.

he moves lower, his teeth closing around one of your nipples while the vibrator stays buried deep inside you, your walls clenching around it. he releases your nipple and then moves straight to your cunt. his tongue drags through your folds and circles your clit as the vibrator keeps moving inside you.

you scream again, the sensations pushing you right to the edge. you hear the others groaning much louder now, the wet sounds of their fists stroking their cocks filling the room as they watch your writhe.

“i’m gonna come”, you hear seungmin saying.

“this is so hot, i can’t believe this”, it’s han now.

jeongin fucks the vibrator in and out of you while his tongue works your clit. your hips try to roll but he stops you again, forcing you to take every vibration and every lick exactly how he wants it. your moans turn into broken and desperate sobs and you’re sure you’re crying under the blindfold.

but just as your orgasm starts to crash through you, jeongin yanks the vibrator out.

“not yet”, he growls against your cunt.

you whimper at the sudden emptiness, your walls clenching around nothing again. he moves the buzzing toy up to your nipples instead, pressing it against one of them and then the other, circling until both of them are red and aching. 

at the same time, his mouth seals over your entrance and he starts eating you out as his tongue thrusts deep, lapping at every drop that pours out of you.

“j-jeongin, i-”

“shh, you can take this, and you will or i will stop right now”, he says and then dives back in again.

he stays like that for a long time, alternating between sucking your clit and fucking your with his tongue while the vibrator keeps tormenting your nipples. your body shakes nonstop, your thighs shaking around his head, but every time you get close, he eases off just enough to keep you desperate and dripping for him, making you beg for it, for him.

finally, he pushes his tongue as deep inside you as it will go, curling and stroking your walls while he presses the vibrator hard against your clit again. 

“come”, he says, his voice muffled against your soaked cunt, “now”

your orgasm rips through you violently and your cunt clenches as you squirt all over his face and the vibrator. your back bows off the table as a scream tears from your throat again, your thighs keeping his head right between your legs. jeongin groans into you, licking through every spasm while your juices run down his chin.

you hear the boys cursing and moaning loudly, the wet sounds and groans of them coming filling the room as they watch you fall apart and soak jeongin’s face. your body keeps twitching, the aftershocks rolling through you while he keeps the vibrator pressed to your oversensitive clit, drawing every last drop out of you. 

once you can’t take it anymore, jeongin clicks the vibrator off with a soft snap, the sudden silence almost deafening after the constant buzzing that had filled the room. he sets the toy on the edge of the table and then leans over you again. 

his mouth finds yours in a slow and deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. his hands move to cradle your jaw, his fingers firm as they hold your face steady while his tongue pushes past your lips. you moan into the kiss, your hands lifting from the table to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at the strands as you pull him closer to you. 

when he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connects your mouths for a second before it breaks and jeongin watches it with dark and hungry eyes as he looks down at you, his chest rising and falling.

without another word, he slides his arms beneath you again and lifts you off the table. your legs wrap around his waist and your arms loop around his neck. he moves you to the sofa again, lowering you onto the cushions, the fabric cool against your overheated skin. he kneels between your spread thighs, his hands resting on your knees as he looks up at you.

“you alright?”, he asks you, his voice much softer now, concern threading through the cracks, “did i push you too far?”

you laugh, the sound breathless and fond, and then you reach out blindly towards him until your fingers find his face. you cup his cheeks and tug him forward, pulling him into another kiss.

“my shy, lovely innie is back”, you murmur against his lips.

he smiles against your mouth and then kisses you once more, slower this time, before he stands up. he brushes a thumb over your cheek and then turns and walks towards the others who are still watching you.

“how are you doing?”, seungmin asks you, “you think you can handle what’s left?”

changbin and chan.

they are left. 

your cunt clenches hard at the thought and fresh slick starts leaking out again, sliding down your inner thigh already.

“i’m good, i can take it”, you say, nodding your head rapidly, almost frantic.

you sit there catching your breath, your thighs still parted, when you feel the cushion dip beside you on your right and a warm body settling close to you. his fingers brush your hair away from your neck and then a mouth presses there, his lips parting to suck a slow mark into the skin. you tilt your head to give him more room, a soft moan escaping your lips already.

his hand slides onto your thigh, his fingers moving and stroking upwards along the inner part but then, they stop close to your aching clit. he stays there for a long moment, his breath hot against your neck and his fingers tracing your skin but not moving any further, and then he pulls away completely, leaving you throbbing and empty again.

before you can recover, the left side of the sofa dips and he sits down next to you again.

why did he change sides?  

you don’t have much time to think because this time, he starts moving much faster, much hungrier, his mouth latches onto the other side of your neck with more force, his teeth scraping and sucking hard, so hard you’re sure you’re gonna have marks tomorrow, just like with all of the other boys. 

his hand moves again, just as bold as his mouth, sliding straight to your inner thigh and gripping tight, his fingers digging in. it moves upwards in one firm stroke but stops again, not touching you where you need him the most. then, just like he did before, he moves away from you, leaving you panting and dripping for him. 

your head spins with the contrast, how gentle he was on one side and how rough was on the other, and how he moved away both times, before he gave you any real relief. your cunt pulses around nothing, your arousal already glistening on your folds as you sit there shaking and desperate for him, your body screaming for more. 

“wait, who-”, you start asking but you have to stop yourself when you start to realise what’s going on.

two large hands land on your thighs at one, forcing your legs wider and spreading you open on the sofa until your knees are nearly touching the cushions on either side. at the same time, two mouths crash onto your neck from both sides. 

one pair of lips is slower, more deliberate and delicate, sucking a deep bruise below your jaw while his tongue drags hot and wet over the mark.

the other mouth is already biting your skin, his teeth sinking in hard enough to make you gasp, then he sucks there until your skin burns.

both sets of hands stay locked on your thighs, their fingers digging into the soft flesh there, holding you spread and helpless.

your brain catches up and the contrast clicks into place - the careful and teasing touches from your right and the rougher and hungry ones from your left. you realise who is on either side of you, chan on your right and changbin on your left, both of them working you together, both of them claiming your body at the same time.

a low chuckle comes from somewhere in front of you and then han’s voice cuts through the haze, amused and filthy.

“you finally figured it out, huh? took you long enough, baby”, he says.

the realisation hits you like a spark to gasoline and then a loud and broken moan rips out of your throat.

“oh my fucking god”, you say as another moan escapes you.

your hands move blindly to their bodies, finding their warm and solid thighs on either side of you. your nails scrape hard over their muscles, leaving red lines as you grip them tight, desperate for something to hold onto.

the knowledge that both of them are going to take you at the same time, that you’re about to be shared between chan and changbin without any break, makes you cunt clench and leak even more, the sofa so ruined at this point that you’re sure you’re gonna need a new one.

but you don’t fucking care.

chan’s mouth moves higher, sucking behind your ear while his thumb strokes slow circles on your inner thigh, but never touching your clit. changbin’s teeth graze your collarbone, biting down there before he licks the sting again. his fingers continue to squeeze your thigh hard enough to bruise, but you need more, you don’t want either of them to stop.

both of them are breathing heavier now, groaning and moaning against your skin, their cocks already hard and leaking as they keep you pinned between them, teasing and denying you. your whole body shakes with need and you can feel how they’re both holding back just enough to drive you insane. 

your fingers keep digging into their thighs, your nails leaving marks as another desperate moan escapes you, already aching for the moment they finally stop teasing you and start fucking you together.

“please… do something, i… fuck, i need you, both of you”

chan’s low voice rumbles right against your ear, “we’re gonna take care of you, love. just breathe for us, let us hear every pretty sound you make”

changbin’s grip tightens on your thigh, his fingers pressing deep into the flesh, “that’s it, sweetheart. spread your legs wider for us, just show us how wet and ready you are”

they move you together, chan’s hands sliding under your ass, lifting you a bit while changbin keeps your legs pinned open. they move your body until you’re slouched back against the cushions, your hips tilted forward, completely exposed. you feel chan dropping to his knees between your spread thighs, his broad shoulders forcing them even wider. changbin stays on the sofa beside you, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulder and his other hand still gripping your thigh and holding you open.

chan looks up at you, his eyes dark as he watches your still covered eyes, and then he leans in and drags his tongue flat through your soaked folds in one long and slow lick from your entrance all the way to your clit, making your hips jerk and a loud and broken moan escape from your throat. 

“oh my... chris-”

changbin’s mouth is on yours instantly, swallowing the sound. he kisses you hard, his tongue pushing past your lips while his free hand cups the back of your head and holds you to him.

“shh”, he murmurs against your mouth between kisses, “let chan eat that pretty cunt now, we wanna hear you but not too loud yet, there will be time for that in a bit”

you continue kissing changbin as your hips start rocking on their own, grinding down against chan’s face. he groans into your cunt, his tongue circling your clit before he sucks it between his lips and then, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them hard against your front wall.

changbin pulls back just enough to watch your face while you moan into his mouth.

“look at you, sweetheart, already fucking his face. so desperate for us”

chan pulls his mouth off you for a second, his lips shiny, “you gonna be a good girl for us and suck changbin’s cock while i keep eating you?”

you nod your head frantically, already reaching for changbin, desperate to have him in your mouth. he stands up in front of you, his thick cock flushed and leaking at the tip. he strokes himself once and then guides the tip to your lips, as you move closer to him too.

“you need to be a good girl if you want to come, okay?”, changbin tells you, his voice rough and demanding, “open up and take it”

you open your mouth and he pushes in, the heavy weight of him sliding over your tongue. chan buries his face back between your legs, sucking your clit while his fingers pump steadily inside you, your eyes rolling back.

“fuck, that’s it”, chan praises you between your thighs, his voice muffled between them, “taking my fingers so well. such a good girl, letting us have you at the same time”

changbin’s hand rests on the back of your head, guiding you gently but firmly as you suck him.

“good girl. look at you, choking on my cock while chan eats that dripping pussy. so fucking greedy for us. so pretty”

from somewhere in front of you, hyunjin’s voice cuts in, “shit, guys, she’s taking both of you so well, look at her hips moving on chan’s face”

you hear another voice saying something like “greedy little thing”, but you don’t recognise him, so lost in your pleasure and the two boys that are using you as they wish.

you keep rocking against chan’s mouth as your hand moves to grab what you can’t reach of changbin’s cock with your mouth, your hand stroking the base while you suck the rest. your tongue swirls around the head every time he pulls back, letting you taste the salty precum that keeps leaking out.

chan adds a third finger, stretching you wider, his tongue never stopping its relentless circles on your clit.

“you’re doing so good, love. taking everything we give you. we’re gonna make you come so hard, rewards you like the good girl you are”

changbin groans above you, his hips twitching forward, “f-fuck, your mouth feels perfect, keep sucking me like that, sweetheart”

your orgasm starts building fast, the combination of chan’s finger curling inside you and his tongue flicking on your clit and changbin’s cock stretching your mouth pushing you right to the edge. 

your walls start fluttering around chan’s fingers and just as you’re about to tip over, both of them pull away at the same time. chan’s fingers slide out of you and changbin pulls his cock from your mouth. you whine loudly, your hips chasing after chan’s face and your hands reaching blindly for changbin’s cock again.

“b-but… i-”, you try to say, but your words won’t find you.

chan rises up between your legs and cups your face with both of his hands, kissing you deep and slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“shh, love”, he whispers against your lips, “we’re not done with you yet”

chan and changbin move in sync, both of them moving and dropping to their knees on both of your sides. then, their hands grip your waist and shoulders, guiding you until you’re on your hands and knees between them, with chan in front of you and changbin behind you now. 

your back arches unconsciously, your ass pushed out and your thighs spread wide enough that your dripping pussy is soaking the sofa even more. chan settles in front of you, his cock standing rigid and flushed, and behind you, changbin’s cock presses against the curve or your ass, moving to drag through your soaked folds once, smearing your wetness over himself. 

both of them are breathing hard, their low groans rumbling in their chests as they look at you positioned between them. chan’s fingers slide under your chin, tilting your face so he can look at you better.

“you ready for us, love? you want both of our cocks at the same time?”

“tell us sweetheart”, changbin says as his palm smooths down your spine then grips one ass cheek and spreads you open wider.

your voice comes out shaky and needy, “y-yes, please. i’m ready, i-i need you”

they don’t make you wait because the moment the words leave your mouth, they move together. changbin lines up and pushes forward in one smooth thrust, the thick head of his cock forcing your pussy open and sinking deep, the stretch burns so good that it makes your arms shake.

at the same time, chan guides his cock between your lips and slides in, the heavy weight of him filling your mouth until the tip bumps the back of your throat.

a broken and muffled moan vibrates around chan’s cock as changbin bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass. your walls clench hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering while changbin stays buried to the hilt for a moment, letting you feel every inch of him.

“fuck, that’s it”, changbin growls, his voice rough, “taking every inch of my cock so deep. you’re such a good girl”

chan’s hand stays gentle on your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as he rocks his hips forward in shallow thrusts.

“look at you”, he says, “your mouth so full of me while changbin fucks that tight pussy from behind. you’re perfect like this, our perfect girl”

they start moving together. changbin pulls back until only the head remains inside you, then moves forward again, the force of it rocking your whole body forward onto chan’s cock. chan meets the motion by pushing deeper into your throat, his free hand sliding into your hair to hold you steady for them.

every thrust from behind pushes you further onto the cock in your mouth, your own spit dripping down your chin and mixing with the precum leaking from chan’s cock. your cunt keeps clenching greedily around changbin every time he bottoms out, the head of his cock rubbing tight against that spot inside you that makes your thighs tremble. 

“god, you’re so fucking wet”, changbin pants, one of his hands gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks while the other reaches around to squeeze your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple, “you love being used like this, don’t you?”

chan groans about you, his hips rolling in steady thrusts that make you gag around him “she’s taking us so well. look how her throat moves every time i push in. such a good girl for us”

from the other side of the room, seungmin’s voice cuts through the haze again, "look at those hips shaking, shit”

another voice, felix this time, also speaks, “fuck, she looks so pretty stuffed full like that, i wanna do it too”

their praises make your cunt flutter harder around changbin’s cock.

“f-fuck, sweetheart, just like that”, he moans, his thrusts growing faster now.

you push back to meet his thrusts, taking him deeper while your tongue works along the underside of chan’s cock. your hands grip the sofa cushions, your knuckles beyond white at this point, as both of them fuck you from both ends without mercy.

changbin’s pace picks up, his cock dragging against your walls with every stroke.

“you’re close, aren’t you, sweetheart? i can feel you pulsing around me”

chan pulls back just enough to let you breathe, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock, “you gonna come with both of us inside you?”

you nod your head, your eyes glassy and your mouth open and waiting.

“y-yes, please… i-i need you, both of you. i want you to come inside me, please”

chan groans at your words and then slides back in, moving deeper and faster this time, while changbin reaches around your hip and finds your swollen clit with his fingers. he rubs tight and fast circles over your sensitive clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. 

the sudden stimulation makes your whole body jolt and you moan, the sound vibrating around chan’s cock as your orgasm crashes over you without warning. your pussy clamps down hard around changbin, your walls fluttering and squeezing as you come, squirting all over his cock. the intensity makes your arms give out, but changbin’s grip on your hips holds you up.

“fuck… there it is”, changbin groans, his hips stuttering as our cunt milks him, “coming so hard on my cock. good girl, sweetheart”

chan’s breathing turns ragged above you, his thrust growing uneven now, “shit, love, your mouth feels too good. i-i’m gonna-”

changbin’s fingers keep working your clit through your orgasm, drawing it out until you come again without a warning, so fast that the only thing you can do is shake and whimper around chan’s cock. this is enough to push both boys over the edge at the same time.

changbin buries himself to the hilt and comes deep inside you, hot pulsed of cum flooding your pussy. chan pushes forward and spills down your throat, thick ropes of cum shooting onto your tongue as he groans your name. 

you swallow around him, taking everything he gives you while your orgasm keeps rolling through you in waves. changbin’s cum leaks out around his cock, dripping down your thigh onto the sofa too.

you hear the other boys groaning and coming too, their rough curses and broken moans and the unmistakable sounds of them stroking themselves to the sight of you being filled from both ends. 

chan pulls out slowly, letting the last drops of cum land on your tongue. he tilts your chin up again, watching you swallow with your covered eyes. changbin stays buried inside you, his cock still twitching as he catches his breath, his fingers still gently circling your oversensitive clit until you whimper and he moves them away from you.

“such a good girl for us”, chan says, his voice hoarse, “took both of us so, so perfectly”

changbin leans over your back, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades, “good job, sweetheart”

strong hands slide under your arms and around your waist, lifting you gently from your position. chan and changbin work together, easing you upright until you’re sitting between them on the sofa. your legs still feel like jelly, your thighs sticky with a mix of sweat and cum that smears against the sofa as they settle you down.

chan stays on your right, one of his arms draped behind your shoulders, while changbin stays on your left, his palm resting warm on your bare thigh. their bodies bracket yours, solid and reassuring, the heat of their skin seeping into yours.

chan’s fingers find the knot at the back of your head and then, he unties the blindfold slowly, the fabric finally sliding away from your eyes. the light floods in and you have to blink a few times, adjusting as the scene in front of you comes into focus.

the living room looks like pure chaos after your round today - han is sprawled on the floor, his chest heaving as one of his hands is still loosely wrapped around his softening cock, streaks of his release glistening on his stomach; felix sits on the armchair across from you, his legs spread wide as his own cum pains the inside of one of his thighs and his stomach; you see minho leaning against the wall in front of you, breathing hard, the mess on his skin the proof to what he’s done; jeongin is on the rug, his cum drying on his fingers; and hyunjin and seungmin are tangled together on the smaller sofa, both of them looking completely wrecked, their bodies glistening with their own cum.

the air smells thick with sex, a mix of musk, sweat and the sharp tang of all your cum combined together. the sofa beneath you is damp in several spots, your own thighs and the cushion between your legs soaked from everything that happened. 

you feel completely destroyed, your pussy still pulsing with aftershocks and changbin’s cum slowly leaking out of you. your jaw aches from taking chan so deep, your throat raw from all the swallowing and screaming and moaning you did. your skin is marked with fingertips and bite marks and also the faint red lines from where hands gripped your body too hard, yet satisfaction rolls through you in heavy waves and every inch of you feels claimed and pleasured.

chan brushes a strand of hair from your damp forehead, his touch gentle now, “you okay, love?”

you nod your head before you turn to look at him and answer, “yeah, more than okay. i loved it”

changbin chuckles low beside you, his hand rubbing circles on your thigh, “you took all of us like a champ. again”

han lifts his head and laughs softly, “the blindfold was the best idea we’ve ever had. watching you guess who was touching you while we all got off… fuck, that was hot”

“yeah, i almost came just from that a couple of times”, felix says, looking at his own cum on his skin.

you smile, still catching your breath, and lean back against chan’s arm, “maybe next time i’ll use the blindfold on you guys. make you guess what i’m gonna do next to you”

seungmin groans at the suggestion, “you already did that to me and i couldn’t think straight for two days after that”

hyunjin smirks next to him, his voice teasing, “wait, i wanna do that. do it with me next time!”

laughter ripples through the room, light and easy despite how wrecked and destroyed everyone looks. then, you hear jeongin’s voice, asking the question that everyone seems to be thinking.

“so… what’s next?”, he says.

your mind drifts for a moment, turning over the different possibilities. 

what could come next? 

another blindfold game? with them this time?

using your toys on them?

playing with two of them each time, just like chan and changbin did?

the options feel endless, each one more filthy and exciting than the last. you look around at their flushed faces, their spent bodies and you smile to yourself, already imagining the next time you spin the wheel.

the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟

dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

permanent taglist: @v3n7s @emmiesoverthemoon @kloversung @inniemeenymineymoe @hathoryan6868 @cherrycheolie @sheerfreesia007 @yessirfelix @hanjinology @luvvvivi @fantasy-addict354 @applesrpeak @lavunyan @channiesswift @skinnyjeans-tanktops @wonderlandforthelonley-blog @bellacj1 @karmaminho @hyunjinxxs @xallyouneedislovexx @niki-the-american @skzbyemmy @kpopishgirlie @daisylove3 @bunbunbl0gs @miniseungkimcami @geni-627 @bsk-brn @pvppymin @viisstrayy @ann-gell @mitsuri1221 @lost-in-the-stars03 @channlust @staygenesblog @persassyismysecrettwin @tsunderelino @minastronaut @minhocinema @staytinycassichu @nyaaa-cat @bangchansnipples @pinknymphkisses @wompwompgang @inlovewithstraykids @sturnsxbitvh @enchantedlov3r2 @certainstarfishmiracle @lixxstay

[bekindtourself]

another part of my absolute favourite series!!!! this one was so hot as well, all of them watching…i loved every second of it

[bebsi-cola]

actually pigs shouldn't be at pride even outside of uniform. fuck those guys

[bebsi-cola]

if you decide to become a police officer then that outweighs any other marginalised identity you can rustle up like. not sorry, who asked you to willingly become a pig

[pekkhum]

I have heard of black people warning their kids that the race of a police officer is cop and you should not expect solidarity from them. The same applies to other types of minorities.

The sexuality of a police officer is cop.

The gender of a police officer is cop.

When you become the enforcer and protector of capital, you are making the deal to be slightly favored by the system over others like you, in exchange for being its servant. Your solidarity is with the system that you serve, even if it hates you.

If you want solidarity with those the system hates, you cannot be the system's servant and defender.

[hyunienohanashi]

── .✦ you forget to kiss him in the morning.

⟢ ┆ stray kids x reader. ot8. established relationship.

⟢ author’s note: helloo! this was requested twice lol so i guess it’s a popular trend going around and i finally brought myself to write it after the odyssey my life went through last month. i had lots of fun with it and i hope you all enjoy it<3

[oinkhop]

seo changbin (and puppym) at gov ball nyc 2026

[binniebb]

wtf is this?????? hubby just being slutty at gov ball???

—y’all already know joy sent me sum shit too 🫠

[musiicpix3l]

Yes yes i know love is love. But they are still killing CHILDREN. over this.

[pieklo]

Reblog daily for health and prosperity

[kayhi808]

Always reblogging this

[deviouspsychopath]

This gif always makes me so happy!

[f0restnympho420]

dry humping?? girl there is nothing dry about the way i’m humping

[seobjectified]

𐙚 ₊ ⊹ do not disturb

♡ lee know is the emotionally unavailable dance major who becomes quietly obsessed with taking care of his accidental roommate. he doesn’t say “i care about you.” he changes your lightbulbs, cooks for you at 2 a.m., and gets irrationally angry when anyone else gets too close. “we’re not dating” — except everyone on campus thinks you are.

☆ genres: accidental roommates | domestic tension | slow-burn yearning | emotionally constipated minho | acts of service | “we’re not dating” but we act married | subtle possessiveness | campus romance | hidden softness ☆ warnings: explicit nsfw (18+ / MDNI), heavy detailed smut scenes, domestic sex, marking/hickeys, light choking, possessive talk, praise kink, teasing/edging, semi-public risk, multiple orgasms, emotional intimacy during sex, hurt/comfort ☆ playlist: darl+ing - seventeen | angel or devil - txt | not for sale - enhypen | unplugged boy - tws | dear my darling - boynextdoor |

---------------------------------------------------

The email had been very clear.

“Due to a system error in the off-campus housing portal, your assigned apartment (Unit 412) will be shared with one other approved tenant for the remainder of the semester. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You had laughed when you read it. Laughed because it felt like a joke. Laughed because you were exhausted from moving boxes up three flights of stairs in the August heat. Laughed because what else were you supposed to do?

Then you opened the door to Unit 412 and stopped laughing.

Lee Minho was already there.

He stood in the middle of the living room like he owned it — black hoodie, sweatpants, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he watched you drag your last suitcase inside. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His eyes, sharp and dark, flicked over you once before returning to the suitcase like it personally offended him.

“You’re the roommate,” he said. Not a question. A statement. Flat. Annoyed.

You straightened up, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, and gave him your brightest, friendliest smile.

“Hi! Yeah, I’m y/n. Housing mix-up, right? This is awkward but I promise I’m clean, quiet, and I don’t throw parties. We can make a chore chart or something if you want.”

Minho stared at you for a long second.

Then he turned and walked into the kitchen without another word.

You blinked.

Okay. Not a talker.

You dragged your suitcase further inside and looked around. The apartment was surprisingly nice — open layout, big windows, two bedrooms on opposite sides. One door was already closed with a small “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging on the knob. His room, obviously.

Minho reappeared from the kitchen holding a glass of water. He set it on the counter near you without comment.

You stared at it, then at him.

“…Thanks?”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed again. “You looked like you were about to pass out.”

His voice was low, almost bored. But he didn’t leave. He just stood there, watching you with that unreadable expression.

You took the water and drank it, suddenly aware of how thirsty you actually were.

“So,” you said, trying to keep things light, “which room is mine?”

He tilted his head toward the open door on the left. “That one. I took the one with the better window. Sorry.”

He didn’t sound sorry.

You smiled anyway. “No problem. I’m easygoing.”

Minho hummed, like he didn’t quite believe you, then pushed off the counter.

“Dinner’s in the fridge if you’re hungry,” he said as he headed toward his room. “Leftovers from last night.”

You stared after him.

He cooked?

Before you could thank him, his door clicked shut.

The “Do Not Disturb” sign swayed gently.

You exhaled, looking around your new (shared) home.

The first week was a careful dance of avoidance and accidental domesticity.

Minho was gone most of the day — dance practices, classes, whatever mysterious schedule a dance major kept. You were busy with your own classes and part-time photography gigs. You barely saw each other.

But the apartment started showing signs of him anyway.

A perfectly folded stack of your laundry appeared on your bed one afternoon (he had “accidentally” mixed it with his and refused to admit it was intentional). A pot of kimchi jjigae was left on the stove with a sticky note that just said “eat” in neat handwriting. When you came home late from a shoot one night, the living room light was still on and Minho was on the couch, pretending to watch a drama while clearly waiting for you.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not my dad.”

He finally glanced at you, expression flat. “You forgot to eat again. There’s leftovers.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

Then he stood up, walked into the kitchen, and silently reheated the food for you.

You ate at the counter while he leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, watching you like it was his job to make sure you actually finished the bowl.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you said between bites. “We’re just roommates.”

Minho shrugged. “You’re bad at taking care of yourself. Someone has to.”

His tone was annoyed.

But he stayed until you finished eating.

And when you thanked him, he just muttered “whatever” and disappeared into his room again.

The “Do Not Disturb” sign never moved.

But you were starting to think it might as well say “Do Not Fall For Your Roommate.”

Because Lee Minho was already becoming a problem.

The weeks after that were a masterclass in quiet chaos.

He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t messy. He was just… there. Always in the periphery, always doing small things that made your shared apartment feel less like a temporary mistake and more like something dangerously comfortable.

It started with the ramen.

You came home from a long photography shoot at 2:14 a.m., exhausted, starving, and too tired to cook. The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of the kitchen light. Minho was standing at the stove in black sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, hair slightly messy, stirring a pot like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You stopped in the doorway.

“…Are you cooking?”

He didn’t look up. “You forgot to eat again. Sit.”

You blinked. “How do you know I forgot to eat?”

He shrugged, sliding a bowl of kimchi jjigae in front of you as you sat at the counter. “You always do when you have shoots.”

You stared at the bowl, then at him.

He leaned against the opposite counter, arms crossed, watching you eat with that same unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything else. Just stood there until you finished.

When you thanked him, he muttered “whatever” again and disappeared into his room.

The next morning, your laundry was folded neatly on your bed.

You knew you hadn’t done it.

When you confronted him in the kitchen later, he was making coffee, back to you.

“You folded my clothes,” you said, half-amused, half-confused.

“You did it wrong,” he replied without turning around. “Everything was wrinkled. I fixed it.”

You leaned against the doorway, smiling. “You’re strangely domestic for someone who acts like he hates people.”

Minho finally glanced over his shoulder, expression flat. “I don’t hate people. I just don’t like most of them.”

You laughed. He turned back to the coffee maker, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The pattern continued.

He started leaving sticky notes on the fridge:

There’s leftover tteokbokki. Eat it before it goes bad. - Minho

Your plants are dying. Water them. - Minho

Stop staying up until 4 a.m. editing. Sleep. - Minho

You teased him relentlessly about it.

“You know you’re acting like a worried husband, right?” you said one evening while he was silently reheating food for you again.

Minho didn’t even pause. “Eat your food.”

But his ears turned pink.

Your friends noticed before you did.

One weekend, you invited a couple of them over for a casual movie night. Minho was supposed to be out at dance practice.

He wasn’t.

He walked in halfway through the movie, took one look at the group on the couch, and immediately went to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he emerged with a tray of perfectly cut fruit, homemade ramyeon, and drinks — placed it on the coffee table without a word, then sat on the floor beside your legs like it was his assigned spot.

Your friend Jisoo stared. “Wait… he lives here?”

You nodded. “Roommate. Housing error.”

Jisoo looked between you and Minho, who was now quietly watching the movie while occasionally glancing up to make sure you were eating the fruit he brought.

“…Looks like y'all are married,” she whispered.

You laughed. “We’re not. He’s just… like this.”

Minho didn’t comment.

But later that night, after everyone left, he lingered in the living room while you cleaned up.

“You can go to bed,” you told him. “I’ve got this.”

He ignored you and started helping anyway, silently drying dishes while you washed them.

When you bumped shoulders accidentally, he didn’t move away.

Neither did you.

The clinginess showed up in quieter ways too.

One night you came home late and freezing from a shoot. Minho was on the couch, pretending to read. The moment you walked in, he stood up, disappeared into his room, and came back with one of his hoodies.

“Put this on,” he said, tossing it at you. “Your room’s heater is shit.”

You pulled it on without arguing. It smelled like him — warm, clean, faintly like his cologne.

You caught him staring for a second too long before he looked away.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

But he stayed on the couch with you until you fell asleep watching a drama, a blanket mysteriously draped over both of you.

When you woke up the next morning, he was gone.

But the blanket was still there.

And so was the faint scent of him on your hoodie.

You told yourself it was just roommate stuff.

Minho was practical. He was helpful. He was… Minho.

But your friends were starting to look at you like you were the only one who couldn’t see what was happening.

And deep down, you were starting to wonder the same thing because, the domesticity didn’t stay small for long.

Minho’s care started slipping into your life in ways that felt too personal to ignore — quiet, practical, and impossibly consistent.

One rainy Thursday, you came home from a long outdoor shoot completely soaked and starting to sniffle. Your nose was running, your throat hurt, and you were too tired to do anything but collapse on the couch.

Minho took one look at you and disappeared into the bathroom.

He returned with a towel and your hair dryer.

“Sit,” he said, voice flat.

You blinked through your exhaustion. “What?”

“You’re dripping everywhere. Sit.”

You sat.

He stood behind the couch and gently dried your hair with the towel first, movements careful and efficient. Then he turned on the hair dryer, fingers combing through your damp strands with surprising gentleness. The warm air and his steady touch made your eyes flutter shut.

“You don’t have to do this,” you mumbled, voice hoarse.

“I know,” he replied.

But he kept going until your hair was dry and you stopped shivering.

When he finished, he placed a blanket over your lap and disappeared into the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he returned with a bowl of warm porridge and medicine.

“Eat,” he said, setting it on the coffee table. “Then sleep.”

You stared at the bowl, then at him.

“…Thank you.”

He shrugged like it was nothing and retreated to his room.

The “Do Not Disturb” sign stayed up.

But you noticed he left his door cracked open that night — just enough to hear if you needed anything.

He also started remembering things.

Your coffee order (extra shot, oat milk, one sugar). The days you had early classes. The exact brand of snacks you reached for when stressed. When your period was coming and you needed chocolate.

He never announced it. He just… did it.

One morning you woke up to find your favorite coffee and a small pack of painkillers on the kitchen counter with a sticky note that simply said:

Don’t forget to eat lunch.

No signature.

But you knew it was him.

-----

The jealousy started subtle.

You were in the shared living room one evening when a guy from your photography class, Jisung, stopped by to drop off a lens you’d lent him. He lingered in the doorway, chatting and laughing, standing a little too close as he complimented your latest shots.

Minho was in the kitchen, pretending to make tea.

But you felt his eyes on you the entire time.

When Jisung reached out to brush a stray hair from your shoulder, Minho’s spoon clattered loudly against the mug.

Jisung startled. “Oh, sorry — I didn’t know you had company.”

Minho didn’t look up. “She’s busy.”

His voice was calm. Almost bored.

But his knuckles were white around the mug.

Jisung left quickly after that.

The second the door closed, Minho set the mug down harder than necessary and walked over to you.

“You let him touch you,” he said, voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “It was just my hair.”

He stared at you for a long moment, jaw tight.

Then he reached out and gently fixed the same strand of hair himself, fingers lingering against your cheek.

“Don’t,” he muttered.

You blinked. “Don’t what?”

He didn’t answer.

He just turned and went back to the kitchen like nothing had happened.

But that night, when you went to bed, you found one of his hoodies folded neatly on your pillow.

No note.

Just the hoodie.

The obsession grew quieter. Deeper.

He started waiting up when you had late shoots.

You’d come home at 1 a.m. to find him on the couch, pretending to watch a drama, eyes heavy with exhaustion but refusing to go to bed until you were safely inside.

One night you tried to tell him he didn’t have to.

Minho just looked at you, expression unreadable.

“I know,” he said.

But he stayed on the couch anyway.

You told yourself it was just roommate stuff.

Practical.

Convenient.

Nothing more.

But your friends were starting to look at you like you were the only one who couldn’t see what was happening.

The domestic routine had settled into something dangerously comfortable.

Minho still acted like he didn’t care. He still left the “Do Not Disturb” sign on his door. He still muttered “whatever” when you thanked him for the late-night ramen or the perfectly folded laundry.

But the small things kept piling up.

He started leaving the living room light on when you had late shoots. He started buying the exact brand of tea you liked when the old box ran out. He started sitting on the couch with you during movies instead of retreating to his room.

You told yourself it was just roommate courtesy.

Your friends told you you were delusional.

The tension finally snapped at a house party thrown by one of your mutual friends.

You hadn’t planned to go, but Minho had been unusually quiet that day, so you dragged him along, hoping it would loosen him up.

Big mistake.

The party was loud, crowded, and full of people who knew you as the friendly photography girl and Minho as the intimidating dance major who rarely spoke.

You were in the kitchen getting a drink when a guy from your department — Hyunjin — approached. He was charming, talkative, and had been flirting with you casually for weeks.

“Hey,” he said with an easy smile, leaning against the counter beside you. “You look good tonight. Finally taking a break from hiding behind that camera?”

You laughed lightly, friendly as always. “Trying to. You?”

Hyunjin stepped a little closer, eyes sparkling. “Better now that you’re here. Want to dance? Or we could go somewhere quieter and talk about that project you mentioned—”

A hand landed on your lower back.

Firm. Possessive.

Minho appeared at your side like a shadow, his body pressed close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“She’s busy,” he said, voice low and flat.

Hyunjin blinked, surprised by the sudden interruption. “Oh… sorry, man. I didn’t know you two were—”

“We’re not,” you started.

At the same time, Minho said, “She’s with me.”

The words came out calm. Controlled.

But his hand stayed on your lower back, fingers pressing slightly into the fabric of your shirt like he needed the contact to stay grounded.

Hyunjin raised his hands in surrender and backed off with an awkward laugh.

The second he was gone, you turned to Minho, heart racing.

“What was that?”

Minho didn’t look at you. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the crowd.

“He was too close,” he muttered.

You stared at him. “You’re acting jealous again.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You literally just told him I’m with you.”

Minho finally looked at you. His eyes were dark, conflicted, something raw flickering beneath the usual unreadable mask.

“I don’t like it when people touch you,” he said quietly. “Especially when they don’t know you.”

The honesty hit harder than expected.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Minho was already pulling you gently by the wrist, leading you out of the noisy kitchen and toward a quieter hallway.

The moment you were alone, he stopped.

Turned.

And kissed you.

It wasn’t soft.

It was frustrated. Hungry. Like he’d been holding back for weeks and finally lost the fight. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his mouth moved against yours, deep and demanding.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers gripping his shirt.

For a moment, it felt like it would escalate — his body pressing you against the wall, thigh sliding between yours, breath ragged against your lips.

Then Minho pulled back suddenly, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t—”

“Yeah,” you agreed, equally breathless, hands still fisted in his shirt. “We’re not… we’re just roommates.”

He nodded once, but didn’t move away.

Neither did you.

The hallway felt too small. The air too thick.

Minho’s thumb brushed your bottom lip once, almost reverently, before he forced himself to step back.

“Don’t let him touch you again,” he muttered, voice rough.

Then he turned and walked away before you could respond.

You stayed leaning against the wall for a long time, heart pounding, trying to convince yourself the kiss hadn’t meant anything.

It had felt like everything but it changed nothing on the surface.

Minho still acted like the same emotionally unavailable roommate — quiet, practical, and annoyingly competent. He still left the “Do Not Disturb” sign on his door. He still muttered “whatever” when you thanked him for the late-night food or the perfectly folded laundry.

But underneath, something had shifted.

The domesticity became heavier. More intimate. Harder to ignore.

It started with the laundry again.

One morning you woke up to find several of Minho’s hoodies and shirts mixed in with your clean clothes. You knew you hadn’t washed them. When you confronted him in the kitchen, he was making coffee, back turned to you.

“You put your clothes in my laundry again,” you said, holding up one of his black hoodies.

He didn’t turn around. “They were mixed. I fixed it.”

“You didn’t have to wash mine.”

“I was already doing a load.”

You stared at his back. “You’re doing my laundry now?”

He finally glanced over his shoulder, expression flat. “You do it wrong. Everything ends up wrinkled. It’s practical.”

You pulled his hoodie closer without thinking. It smelled like him — clean, warm, faintly like his cologne. You told yourself you were just borrowing it because it was soft.

You wore it for three days straight.

Minho noticed.

He didn’t say anything, but you caught him staring at you in it more than once, ears faintly pink before he looked away.

Movie nights became dangerous.

One Friday, you suggested watching a new drama together on the couch. Minho agreed with his usual noncommittal shrug.

Halfway through, you fell asleep.

When you woke up hours later, the TV was still on, but you were no longer sitting upright. You were lying down, head on Minho’s chest, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His breathing was steady, but you could tell he wasn’t fully asleep.

You stayed very still, heart racing.

After a moment, Minho’s fingers brushed lightly up and down your back — slow, absentminded, like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“…You’re warm,” he muttered sleepily when he felt you stir. “Stay.”

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

You fell back asleep like that — tangled together on the couch, his heartbeat steady under your ear.

The next morning, he pretended it never happened.

But his hoodie was still on you when you woke up.

The care kept creeping in.

When you had a bad day, he showed up at your door with your favorite takeout without being asked.

When you mentioned your favorite tea was running low, a new box appeared on the counter the next day.

When you complained about the cold in your room, he “fixed” the heater — which somehow meant he started leaving his own blanket on your bed every night.

You tried to call him out on it.

“You’re spoiling me,” you said one evening while he was silently reheating food for you again.

Minho didn’t look up from the stove. “It’s practical. You forget to eat when you’re stressed.”

You smiled, leaning against the counter. “You’re acting like a worried boyfriend.”

He froze for half a second.

Then, voice flat: “I’m not.”

But his ears were red again.

Your friends were the first to say it out loud during a casual hangout at your apartment.

One of them watched Minho quietly refill your water glass without being asked, then disappear back into the kitchen.

“…You two are basically married,” she whispered.

You laughed. “We’re roommates.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Roommates don’t look at each other like that.”

You brushed it off.

But later that night, when Minho fell asleep on the couch beside you during another movie, his head eventually ending up on your shoulder, and you didn’t move him.

You just sat there, heart beating a little too fast, wondering when “roommates” had started feeling like something more.

Minho, still half-asleep, mumbled something against your shoulder.

“…Don’t leave.”

You froze.

He didn’t say anything else.

But his arm wrapped around your waist a little tighter.

And for the first time, you realized you didn’t want to leave either.

-----

The jealousy started escalating the week Seojun entered the picture.

Seojun was a confident, charismatic dance major in Minho’s department — loud where Minho was quiet, outgoing where Minho was reserved. He had been friendly with you for a while, but lately he’d been showing up more often, especially when you were around the dance building dropping off photos for a project.

One afternoon, you were waiting outside the practice room when Seojun spotted you.

“Hey!” he called, jogging over with an easy grin. “You here for Minho?”

You smiled back, friendly as always. “Yeah, I promised I’d bring him the edited shots from last week.”

Seojun leaned against the wall beside you, standing a little too close. “You’re too nice to him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

You laughed lightly. “He’s not that bad.”

Seojun tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “You know, if you ever get tired of dealing with his grumpy ass, I’d be happy to take you out sometime. Coffee? Or dinner? No pressure.”

Before you could respond, the practice room door opened.

Minho stepped out, hair slightly damp with sweat, towel around his neck. His eyes landed on Seojun’s proximity to you immediately.

His expression didn’t change much.

But you saw the way his jaw tightened. The way his hand flexed at his side.

He walked straight over and stopped right beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours.

“She’s busy,” Minho said, voice flat and low.

Seojun raised an eyebrow, amused. “With you?”

Minho didn’t blink. “Yes.”

The tension was instant.

You tried to laugh it off. “Minho, it’s fine—”

But Minho was already gently grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward the exit without another word to Seojun.

You let him pull you along, heart racing.

The second you were outside, you turned on him.

“What was that?”

Minho didn’t look at you. “He was too close.”

“You literally told him I’m busy with you.”

He finally glanced at you, eyes dark. “You are.”

The possessiveness in his voice made your stomach flip.

You stared at him. “We’re not dating, Minho.”

“I know,” he said, voice tight. “But I still don’t like it.”

He didn’t elaborate.

He just started walking you back to the apartment, staying closer than usual, his shoulder brushing yours with every step.

It kept happening.

Whenever Seojun was around, Minho’s reactions became sharper.

During a group hangout at the apartment, Seojun sat next to you on the couch and casually rested his arm along the back of the seat behind you. Minho, who had been in the kitchen, appeared seconds later and sat directly on your other side, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours.

He didn’t say anything.

He just reached over and fixed the collar of your shirt, fingers lingering against your skin.

Seojun eventually moved.

Later that night, after everyone left, Minho was quieter than usual. He was washing dishes when you walked into the kitchen.

“You’re being weird again,” you said, leaning against the counter.

He didn’t look up. “I’m not.”

“You literally sat between me and Seojun like a guard dog.”

Minho’s hands paused on the plate. Then he continued washing, voice low.

“I don’t like when he touches you.”

The honesty made your breath catch.

You stepped closer. “Minho…”

He turned off the water and finally looked at you, eyes dark and conflicted.

“I know we’re not dating,” he said quietly. “But I still hate it.”

The air between you felt thick.

You didn’t know what to say.

So you didn’t say anything.

You just reached up and gently fixed a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

Minho closed his eyes for a second, leaning into the touch like he was starving for it.

Then he pulled away, muttering something about needing to sleep, and disappeared into his room.

The “Do Not Disturb” sign never moved.

But you were starting to realize that the sign wasn’t for you.

It was for him.

Minho still kept his “Do Not Disturb” sign up like a shield, but the walls between you were crumbling faster than either of you could pretend otherwise. He was louder in his silence now — the way he’d linger in the kitchen when you were home, the way his eyes followed you when he thought you weren’t looking, the way his hoodies kept mysteriously appearing in your room.

You tried to act normal.

You failed.

One Thursday night you came home from a brutal editing session, shoulders aching, eyes burning. The apartment was warm and smelled like something delicious. Minho was at the stove again, stirring a pot of samgyetang with focused precision.

“You’re back,” he said without turning around.

“Yeah. Smells good.”

He hummed. A few minutes later, he set a steaming bowl in front of you at the counter, along with a glass of water and painkillers.

“Eat,” he ordered quietly.

You sat down, suddenly too tired to tease him. The first spoonful made your eyes flutter shut. Perfect, as always.

Minho leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossed, watching you eat like it was his personal responsibility. The silence felt heavier tonight. Charged.

When you finished, he took your bowl without a word and started washing it.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” you said softly, standing up to help dry.

“I know.”

But he didn’t stop. His shoulder brushed yours as you worked side by side. Neither of you moved away.

Later that night, you were on the couch scrolling through photos when Minho came out of his room in a black t-shirt and sweatpants. He paused, then sat beside you instead of retreating to his usual spot.

You glanced at him. “Movie?”

He nodded once.

Halfway through, your head ended up on his shoulder. His arm slowly slid around you, pulling you closer until you were curled against his chest. His fingers traced slow, absent patterns on your arm.

“You’re warm,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You tilted your head up. His face was inches from yours, eyes dark and unreadable in the glow of the TV.

“Minho…”

He swallowed hard. Then he leaned down and kissed you.

This time, there was no hallway. No party. No interruption.

It started slow — hesitant, like he was still fighting himself. But the second you kissed him back, something in him snapped. The kiss deepened, turning hungry and desperate. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your head as his tongue slid against yours.

You climbed into his lap without thinking, straddling him. Minho groaned softly into your mouth, hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your lips. “This is a bad idea.”

“Probably,” you whispered, rolling your hips once.

His grip tightened hard enough to bruise.

He stood up suddenly, carrying you like you weighed nothing, and walked straight to his room. The “Do Not Disturb” sign stared at you mockingly as he kicked the door shut behind him.

The second your back hit his bed, Minho was on you.

He kissed you like he’d been starving for months — deep, messy, possessive. His hands shoved your shirt up, mouth latching onto your neck, sucking a dark mark right below your ear.

“Mine,” he growled against your skin, so low you almost missed it.

You pulled his shirt off, nails dragging down his toned back. He hissed, grinding his hard cock against you through your clothes.

Clothes came off in a blur. When he finally pushed inside you, slow and deep, both of you moaned brokenly.

“Shit— so tight,” he panted, forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were dark, intense, completely focused on your face as he bottomed out. “Look at me.”

You did.

He started moving — deep, rolling thrusts that made your back arch. Every stroke felt deliberate, like he was trying to memorize how you felt around him. His hand came up to wrap gently around your throat, not squeezing hard, just holding you there as he fucked you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, voice rough. “Better than I imagined. Fuck— been thinking about this for weeks.”

You moaned his name, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. He angled his hips and hit that spot inside you perfectly, drawing a sharp cry from your throat.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing you messily. “Let me hear you.”

He fucked you harder, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit. The pleasure built fast and overwhelming. When you came, clenching around him with a broken moan of his name, Minho cursed and followed right after, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you.

For a long moment, the only sound was both of you breathing hard.

Minho didn’t pull out. He collapsed on top of you, face buried in your neck, arms wrapped around you like a vice.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered against your skin. “Just… stay.”

You stayed.

He fell asleep still inside you, holding you like you might vanish if he loosened his grip even slightly.

The next morning, he was already in the kitchen when you woke up. Two plates of breakfast waited on the counter.

He didn’t mention the sex.

But when you reached for your coffee, he gently fixed the collar of the hoodie you’d stolen from him — his hoodie — and his fingers lingered against your neck, right over the hickey he’d left.

You didn’t mention it either.

But the line between roommates and something more had been completely, irreversibly crossed.

“Morning,” you said softly.

“Sit,” he replied, voice low. He slid a plate of perfectly cooked eggs, rice, and grilled spam in front of you, along with your coffee — exactly how you liked it.

You ate in silence for a few minutes. The tension from last night still hummed between you, thick and unspoken.

“You’re not going to say anything?” you finally asked.

Minho paused, chopsticks hovering over his food. “About what?”

You raised an eyebrow. “About the fact that we had sex last night.”

He shrugged, ears turning faintly pink. “It happened.”

You stared at him. “That’s it?”

He finally looked up, expression carefully blank. “We’re still roommates. Don’t make it weird.”

But the way his gaze lingered on the hickey he’d left on your neck said otherwise.

The denial didn’t last long.

Over the next week, Minho’s care became almost suffocating in its intensity. He cooked every night. He waited up every time you had a late shoot. He started doing your laundry without even pretending it was an accident. And at night…

He stopped pretending he wanted space.

One evening you came home exhausted. Minho took one look at you, walked over, and pulled you into a slow, deep kiss right in the middle of the living room. No words. Just his hands sliding under your shirt, mouth claiming yours like he’d been thinking about it all day.

He carried you to his bed again.

This time, he took you apart slowly.

Minho laid you down gently, stripping you piece by piece with patient hands. His mouth followed — kissing down your neck, sucking marks across your collarbones, tongue teasing your nipples until you were squirming beneath him.

“Minho…” you breathed.

“Shh,” he murmured against your stomach, lips brushing lower. “Let me take care of you.”

He ate you out like he had all the time in the world — slow, filthy licks and gentle sucks on your clit, two fingers curling inside you until your thighs shook around his head. He didn’t stop even after you came the first time, just kept licking you through it, groaning softly like your taste was addictive.

When he finally crawled back up and pushed inside you, it was devastatingly deep. He fucked you with long, rolling thrusts, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked on your face the entire time.

“Look at me,” he whispered when your eyes fluttered shut. “Want to see you.”

Every thrust felt heavy with meaning. His hand came up to wrap around your throat again — light pressure, possessive, grounding. The other rubbed your clit in perfect rhythm until you came again, clenching hard around him.

Only then did Minho let himself go. He buried his face in your neck and fucked you harder, chasing his own release with broken, quiet moans of your name. When he came, he stayed deep inside you, hips twitching as he filled you up.

Afterwards, he didn’t pull away. He rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, still connected, arms wrapped tightly around your back.

“You’re staying here tonight,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

You smiled against his chest. “Okay.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, fingers tracing slow circles on your bare skin. For once, he didn’t run back behind his walls. He just held you.

But the denial still lingered during daylight.

He still muttered “we’re not dating” when your friends teased you. He still put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on his door when other people came over. He still got prickly and quiet whenever Seojun texted you or when someone flirted with you on campus.

One afternoon Seojun stopped by the apartment to drop off dance footage for a project. Minho was in the kitchen, but the second Seojun leaned in a little too close while laughing at something you said, Minho appeared like a shadow.

He didn’t say anything. Just wrapped an arm around your waist from behind and pressed a slow kiss to the side of your neck — right over one of his many marks — while staring directly at Seojun.

Seojun got the message quickly.

When the door closed, you turned in Minho’s arms.

“You’re being possessive again.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “I don’t like him near you.”

“You keep saying we’re not dating.”

He stared at you for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes before he buried it.

“I know what I said.”

Then he kissed you hard, like he could avoid the truth if he just drowned it in physical closeness.

That night he fucked you against the kitchen counter after dinner — rough, desperate, and possessive. One hand around your throat, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave fingerprints as he pounded into you from behind.

“Say my name,” he growled against your ear. “Only mine.”

You came moaning his name. He followed right after, spilling deep inside you with a broken groan.

Afterwards, while he was carefully cleaning you up with a warm towel, he kissed your shoulder softly.

“…Stay in my room tonight,” he whispered.

You smiled. “I thought we weren’t dating?”

Minho froze, then buried his face in your neck, arms wrapping around you from behind.

“Shut up,” he mumbled against your skin, voice muffled and embarrassed.

But he didn’t let go.

And you were starting to realize that Lee Minho’s version of “we’re not dating” was beginning to sound a lot like “I don’t know how to admit I’m falling in love with you.”

Minho no longer waited for you to fall asleep on the couch. Most nights he simply pulled you into his room after dinner, wordlessly stripping you down and burying himself inside you like it was the only way he knew how to say the things he couldn’t voice.

One particular night, you came home after a long day of back-to-back shoots. The apartment was quiet, but the moment you stepped inside, Minho was there.

He didn’t speak. He just walked up to you, cupped your face, and kissed you slow and deep, like he’d been waiting hours for this exact moment. His hands slid under your shirt, thumbs brushing your ribs as he backed you toward his bedroom.

“Missed you,” he muttered against your lips. It was the closest thing to a confession he’d ever given.

He took his time with you that night.

Minho laid you out on his bed like you were something precious, mouth mapping every inch of your skin. He spent long minutes between your thighs, licking and sucking until you came twice on his tongue, fingers buried deep inside you, curling against that spot that made you see stars. He groaned every time you clenched around his fingers, like your pleasure fed something starving inside him.

When he finally pushed inside you, it was devastatingly slow. He held your gaze the entire time, forehead pressed to yours, one hand gently wrapped around your throat while the other pinned your wrist above your head.

“So good for me,” he whispered, voice rough as he rolled his hips deep. “Always so fucking perfect.”

Every thrust was measured, intentional, like he was trying to carve himself into your memory. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, and he let out a broken sound that made your chest ache.

When you came again, clenching hard around him, Minho followed with a quiet, shuddering groan, spilling deep inside you while whispering your name against your neck like a secret.

Afterwards, he didn’t move. He stayed buried inside you, arms wrapped tightly around your body as he rolled you both onto your sides. His face stayed hidden in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

You gently ran your fingers through his hair. “Minho… what are we doing?”

He was quiet for a long time.

Then, barely audible: “I don’t know.”

But his arms tightened around you like he was scared you’d pull away.

The next few days felt like borrowed time.

Minho’s care became almost overwhelming. He started waking up earlier just to make you breakfast. He left sticky notes on the mirror after you showered: “Drink water.” “You looked tired. Sleep early.” He even started doing your photography editing backups “because your laptop is old and slow.”

You caught him staring at you more often — soft, unguarded looks when he thought you weren’t paying attention. But the second you turned toward him, the mask would slip back into place. Flat expression. “Do Not Disturb” energy.

One afternoon, while you were both in the kitchen, you decided to test the waters.

“I found a new apartment listing,” you said casually, stirring your coffee. “It’s available next month. Closer to campus, cheaper rent…”

Minho’s entire body went still. The knife he was using to cut vegetables froze mid-air.

“You’re moving?” His voice was carefully neutral, but you heard the strain underneath.

“Yeah. The housing error gets fixed at the end of the semester anyway. Thought I should start looking.”

He didn’t respond. Just went back to chopping vegetables with a little more force than necessary.

That night, he fucked you like he was angry.

Bent over the kitchen counter right after dinner, your shorts shoved down, his cock slamming into you from behind with deep, punishing strokes. One hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.

“You’re really leaving?” he growled against your ear, hips snapping harder. “After all this?”

You moaned, pushing back against him. “You said we’re not dating—”

He pulled your head back by your hair and bit down on your shoulder, sucking a dark hickey as he fucked you even deeper.

“Don’t say that right now,” he hissed.

He made you come twice before he finally let himself go, filling you up with a low, broken groan. Afterwards, instead of his usual quiet aftercare, he carried you to his bed and held you so tightly you could barely breathe.

“Don’t look for apartments yet,” he whispered against your hair in the dark.

You didn’t answer.

But you didn’t pull away either.

The next morning, Minho was quieter than usual. He made your coffee exactly how you liked it, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. When you tried to tease him about burning the toast, he barely reacted.

You hated how much it hurt.

Because the truth was becoming impossible to ignore: you didn’t want to move out. You didn’t want to leave this apartment. You didn’t want to leave him.

And Lee Minho, for all his emotional constipation and “Do Not Disturb” signs, was starting to look like he felt the exact same way.

But neither of you knew how to say it.

Yet.

-----

The argument finally exploded in the kitchen on a random Tuesday night.

You’d been putting it off for days, but the new apartment listing had been confirmed. You set your phone down on the counter and took a deep breath.

“I found a place,” you said quietly. “It’s available at the end of the month. I think I’m going to take it.”

Minho was stirring rice in a pan. His hand stilled completely.

For a long moment, the only sound was the faint sizzle of the food.

“You’ll survive,” you added, trying to keep your voice light. “You lived alone before me anyway.”

Minho slowly set the spoon down and turned to face you. His expression was tight, jaw clenched, eyes darker than usual.

“I know I will,” he said flatly.

You nodded, heart aching. “Then why are you acting like this?”

He stared at you for a long second, something raw and frustrated breaking across his face. The “Do Not Disturb” mask he’d worn for months finally shattered.

“Because I liked living with you!” The words burst out of him, louder than you’d ever heard him speak. He immediately looked away, ears burning red. “More than I should’ve.”

Silence filled the kitchen.

Minho gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white.

“I know I’m bad at this,” he continued, voice dropping. “I don’t say things. I just… do things. Cook for you. Wait up for you. Fold your stupid laundry. But every time I think about you moving out, it feels wrong. Like the apartment’s going to be too quiet. Like I’m going to be too… empty.”

He finally looked at you, eyes vulnerable in a way that made your chest tighten.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

You stepped closer until you were right in front of him. “Then ask me to stay, Minho.”

He swallowed hard. Then, barely above a whisper:

“…Stay.”

You smiled, soft and warm. “Okay.”

The tension snapped.

Minho pulled you into him almost desperately, kissing you like he’d been holding back for years. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as the kiss turned deeper, slower, full of everything he’d never been able to say.

He lifted you onto the kitchen counter, stepping between your legs. But this time it wasn’t rushed or possessive. It was tender.

Clothes came off slowly. He kissed every inch of skin he revealed, murmuring quiet praises against your collarbone, your stomach, your thighs. When he finally slid inside you, it was gentle and deep, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, rolling his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. “I’m not letting you go.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, holding him just as tightly. The pleasure built gradually, sweet and overwhelming, until you both came together — quiet moans and trembling breaths, bodies pressed impossibly close.

Afterwards, Minho carried you to his bed (your bed now, too), cleaned you up with careful hands, then pulled you against his chest. He buried his face in your hair, arms locked around you.

“No more looking at apartments,” he mumbled against your temple.

You laughed softly. “No more ‘we’re not dating’ either?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then:

“We’re dating,” he said, almost shyly. “If… you want.”

You tilted your head up and kissed him. “I want.”

-----

The next few weeks were sickeningly cute.

Minho still acted annoyed when your friends teased him about being whipped, but he no longer denied it. He started introducing you as “my girlfriend” in the most casual, deadpan way possible — like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He took the “Do Not Disturb” sign down permanently.

Now the only sign on his door (your shared door) was a small handmade one you’d made together that read: “Do Not Disturb… unless you’re y/n”

Domestic life continued, only now it was openly affectionate.

He still cooked for you at 2 a.m. when you forgot to eat, but now he’d pull you into his lap afterwards and feed you bites while pressing kisses to your neck. He still folded your laundry, but now he’d steal kisses every time he passed you a stack of clothes. He still waited up for you, but now he’d greet you at the door with a hug that lasted way too long.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, you were both on the couch watching a drama. You were wearing his hoodie (as usual). Minho had his head in your lap, eyes half-closed as you played with his hair.

“You know,” you said softly, “I never thanked the housing office for their mistake.”

Minho hummed, turning his face to press a kiss to your thigh.

“Don’t thank them,” he muttered. “Thank me for not letting you move out.”

You laughed and leaned down to kiss him.

He smiled against your lips — small, genuine, and completely unguarded.

Lee Minho still wasn’t great with words.

But he didn’t need to be.

He showed you he loved you every single day — in the meals he cooked, the hoodies he let you steal, the way he held you at night like you were the only thing that mattered.

And you?

You stayed.

Right where you belonged.

[bekindtourself]

love that his inability to communicate wasn’t a hindrance for them falling for each other, that was so fucking cute (and very hot)

[gibbearish]

got a good grade in physical therapy because i ordered a sex toy life is fun

[gibbearish]

anyways tmi/nsfw warning but since it helped me and my therapist hadnt considered the idea before im willing to bet a lot of others havent either so im gonna share:

if you have vaginismus and struggle with dilating regularly i highly recommend looking into wearable toys. theyre generally vibrators that hook onto your clothes or your person in some way, and they're intended to be worn long-term and in public which means you can safely+comfortably just put it in and go about your day without having to sit down and do the whole production of dilating on its own. theyre usually curved to follow your body and soft/flexible unlike the dilators which are straight and stiff, so theyre imo easier to get in and less uncomfortable to ambiently exist with, and the long term aspect gives your body more time to adjust to having something there. and frankly the vibrator part is helpful too, a big part of vaginismus therapy is teaching your body that sensations there arent actually painful like it thinks so introducing positive stimulus helps it relax, bc functionally it kind of is a type of massage lol. but yeah again i know this is oversharing and tmi but i also know this disorder majorly sucks to have and feel like you cant make progress on so if it helps anyone else then yeehaw

[gibbearish]

actually ive decided these tags are important enough to go in the post body

image id under cut bc it wouldnt fit in alt

image ID: screenshot of tags reading "#now obviously this is limited to once you hit a point where you can fit the vibrator itself "but once you do this is a speedrunning tactic LMAO #im torn on community labelling this bc on the one hand it is for sure sexually themed but on the other hands its medical advice #advice that i wouldve killed to be able to know as a minor bc i already knew i had it at that point i might add #and something thats p common to learn early on because when you cant fit a tampon in for no reason on your first period #you go 'what why not everyone else can what am i doing wrong' #or well i guess more intense cases like mine are more likely to be discovered early‚ ik for some ppl its more 'tampons are fine but #anything bigger is intense pain' so they dont find out until they lose their virginity #or after if they just assume its supposed to be painful which is p common too #hm yeah i will not be community labelling this and am going to specifically say to any vagina'd minor reading this: if your first time #is intensely intensely painful‚ THAT IS NOT NORMAL no matter what the other person says!! and there are excercises that exist that #can make it easier!!! #and also: forcing your way through the pain will make your condition worse in the long run because it reinforces to your brain #that any interaction down there = pain so the muscles lock down even harder next time #if it hurts really bad and you can do so‚ go to your doctor and ask to be referred to a pelvic floor physical therapist for potential #vaginismus and they should be able to help #you can also research self treatment methods online bc its primarily just dilating‚ kegels‚ abdominal/thigh massages‚ stretches‚ and #bowel health (any tension in neighboring regions will ripple effect back to your pelvic floor so indigestion can make things more difficult) #(hence also the abdominal/inner thigh massages‚ those muscles being tight pulls towards your chest and knees respectively which again increases tension in the pelvic region) #a physical therapist will help you set a timeline and pace yourself as well as assign homework excercises to fit you but #the general stuff that can be found online is helpful regardless #and also remember: any progress is good progress. since my first appointment i have been very bad about doing all my excercises #the amount i should be but ive already made ridiculous progress #oh part of the physical therapy too would be yknow. doctors getting their fingers all up in your business so thats another reason you might #prefer self treatment however personally i can confirm it gets wayyy less awkward after the first one i soend my appointments rambling #about terraria now #youll feel embarassed but dont‚ remember that this is their entire job and youre probably the fifth cooch theyve touched today #so this is just a part of their life‚ its not weird for them #also specifically if anyone is near Spokane i recommend core pelvic physical therapy w julia salazar shes a complete delight". end ID

[gibbearish]

alao i don't know enough about vaginoplasty to feel comfortable saying whether the first tip would be useful for that dilating too but its something to keep in mind at least, i cant see any reason why it wouldnt work the same though

[gibbearish]

i dislike "hey rb this actually" type things so if you dont want to thats completely fine esp considering a good chunk of it is abt vibrators lol, however it would be greatly appreciated as vaginismus was never mentioned in school / health class for me and ppl really do end up assuming (or being told by assholes) that the pain is just how it works and they have to push through it to be normal, i learned abt it somewhat early on bc mine was so severe i straight up thought i simply Didnt Have A Vaginal Canal and wanted to see if that was a thing, but for a lot of people its more subtle where penetration is /possible/ just not /comfortable/ so they think "ah this must just be how it works, everyone must experience this when they have sex so i just have to deal with it", which sucks on its own but is also something often taken advantage of/encouraged by abusive partners. or those with low/no libido* often find out when they reach the age for their first pap smear and either are in way more pain than normal for it, or are just straight up unable to complete it and then have to wait until after therapy finishes to get that test, so i want to give anyone i can a head start on that realization lol. and even medical stuff aside, the mental impact of not being able to engage in sex the "normal" way despite wanting to is really rough on its own, it's even been really rough for me and i'm transmasc so to a certain degree ive found it gender affirming not being able to do it """the girl way""", but at a certain point that just became a sprinkles-on-a-turd kind of thing yknow lol

*can also include those with active libidos who just choose not to sleep with anyone, but theyre a bit more likely to find out via masturbation whereas someone without probably won't feel the need to explore what's going on there as much

also i wanted to add vis a vis the physical therapy part, the "having a doctors finger in you" part does feel weird and awkward and embarassing and yes probably will hurt a bit when youre first starting out, but they will go as slow as you need and it really is helpful, because from that they can tell you what areas to focus pressure on with the dilator, test muscle control, make sure youre doing kegels/breathing exercises right, and gauge your progress while making sure youre not pushing too fast, so if youre willing/able to push thru the awkwardness of it then it really is worth it

[fandomshatefatpeople]

i know this isn't under this blog's theme at all but i feel like we do dip into general medical stuff a lot, and this is something pretty personally important to me so i wanted to share it here too

- mod CJ

[fandomshatefatpeople]

oh actually one more thing to add, if you're transmasc go through planned parenthood for your referral if you can, they should be able to find you a trans-friendly location

- mod CJ

[gibbearish]

@excessive-vampires hey of course<3 i know it fuckin sucks to deal with so anything i can do to help others with it ill do my best

with that i saw your reblog earlier and was working through forming a response so i just wanted to say firstly im really sorry youre stuck in that situation and that your doctors treated you like that, secondly im not sure if you wanted advice on working around that so if not feel free to disregard all of this but if yes:

firstly dilators - if the issue is:

> not knowing what to get - i got the intimate rose dilator set off amazon and my physical therapist made happy noises when i showed her so they get two thumbs up, id estimate the smallest one is abt the size of a pencil

> they would open your mail and get angry - see if you have any friends nearby who would be willing to let you ship it to their house and then pick it up in person

> if they found it in your room they would get angry - try to think as far outside the box as you can on hiding spots. like say an old pair of boots buried in your closet or something, what are the chances of them checking somewhere like that yknow?

> worried theyll catch you doing it / no lock on door - i usually wait until my housemates are entirely gone or 100% certainly asleep before dilating, its not a noisy activity on its own you go really slow. and even if that means you can only do it once a month, thats ok, like i said any progress is good progress. when i first started out working on it p young i literally couldnt fit much of anything at all and would just occasionally toe the line like every few months, and even that slowly got me to the point where i think shortly after graduating highschool when i ordered the dilators i was able to do the first size after like a week

if none of those solve it and dilatings not a possibility thats def unfortunate but not the end of the road. as for the rest of the exercises none of them involve material stuff so they should be pretty easy to do discreetly if you want (except the massage thing but theyd have no reason to suspect its pelvis involved as the tools used are used for regular massages too lol, and failing that you can still do it with your hands its just not as ideal). so with that here's a rough breakdown of the exercises im supposed to do, and again this is just the general stuff so i cant tell you how many days a week you would do these. and also disclaimer that i very much am not a medical professional, just regurgitating what i remember of the instructions from my doctor. anyways!

kegels:

breathe in through nose 2 seconds, out through pursed lips 2 seconds while squeezing, release and repeat 5 times

then

take slow steady breaths drawing them down into your stomach rather than your chest, do these continuously independent of kegels. pattern is squeeze for 5 seconds, release 10 seconds, and repeat that 5 times

do one set of each of these standing, sitting, and laying down flat on your back with pillows under your knees to elevate your pelvis. originally i was supposed to do all of that eight to ten times a day but that rapidly evolved to "whenever i can remember to in whatever position i happen to be in right now" lol

the abdominal/inner thigh massages are primarily intended as a cupping exercise but you can also use a Gua Sha tool if the cups hurt (like me, they pull my stomach hair so i got one also off amazon, its the shiny metal rock shaped like a paint pallette. for the cups this one looks closest to what she had and you just squeeze it then place on your skin so it creates a seal, release the bulb to create suction, and then slide it around as described below), or she told me the thigh part can also be done with a massage gun. but essentially you just make sweeping motions around your abdominal region, if you start at the bottom on one side you sweep up around your bellybutton on that side to the top and vice versa, if you imagine your stomach in quadrants you wanna spend abt 3 mins going over each corner. then you also wanna do the cardinal directions and just sweep from the outside towards your bellybutton, also 3 mins each (i do not do these in any particular order truth be told im truly just rubbing a slimy rock around on my stomach lol). inner thighs are similar, you just sweep up towards your pelvis. and use massage oil/lotion/something otherwise itll get uncomfortable and chafey, ESPECIALLY the silicon cups my skin hurts just thinking abt that lol

for stretches she told me -

1 minute daily: priformis figure 4 stretch, deep squat stretch, half kneeling hip flexor side bending stretch, supine hamstring stretch with strap, happy baby pose, and adductor butterfly stretch

10x pushup-y things daily: prone on elbows stretch

i googled all of those real quick to make sure those keywords lead to diagrams or guides that looked mostly right so those should be a p good rough guide

the breathing exercises are just more of the stomach breathing thing, you lay down with one hand on your stomach and one on your chest and just concentrate on taking deep breaths without the chest hand moving for a couple minutes

if you had to pick just one of these though i would primarily go for the kegels, for the first month that was the only thing i remembered to do every now and then and id still made a fuckload of progress by the second appointment, theyre entirely undetectable by anyone around you so you can do them whenever and wherever you want, and as far as i know theres not really any way to do them wrong or like. overdo them? worst thatll happen is youll get too tired to keep doing them and the result will be ... you relaxing, so thats also a win lol

another tip is if you cant get dilators but still want to go that route and can fit your pinky: put it in until it starts to hurt and no further, even if thats only a single centimeter and just chill there until it relaxes, focusing on deep breaths and releasing tension in the area (also make sure youve gone to the bathroom prior so you wont get scared of relaxing too much and tense up bc that can hurt a lot w something in you if youre not prepared). itll feel like it never will but i promise eventually it will chill, even if that time is another day youll still have made progress. if you do get it relaxed though then you can try for a little deeper, again stopping as soon as it hurts and waiting for it to adjust. one thing that can help is directing sustained pressure down towards the bottom of your pelvic floor, it will hurt some but in a different way like a really intense backbreaking massage does, and as such will also steadily drive the tension out. vaginismus is lowkey your pelvic floor being one big muscle knot anyways so yknow lol. also if its not going well dont force yourself to continue forever, like give yourself a 15 minute timer as a goal but allow yourself to tap out whenever you need. and conversely if you make it to 15 mins and find youre still feeling fine you can choose to bump that up, the world is your oyster

for bowel health she recommended i get a magnesium supplement, the brand she recc'd is CALM specifically the raspberry lemon flavor, you just mix i think a teaspoon of it with however much warm water you want so if you dont like the taste you can just take it as a shot like i do, or she said adding it to tea and stuff is fine too, and you just drink that before bed every night. its not prescription or anything you can get it at costco or again amazon (all of these companies certainly have their own websites you can order direct from but i am broke as fuck so we do what we can lol)

that's all i can think of right now, make sure to use way more lube than you think you should, and i hope this helps and that your situation looks up soon💜

[gibbearish]

bringing this back again in honor of a) me finishing my physical therapy a couple months ago 🎉🎉🎉 and b) me finding out that i did not find out about mine by myself! someone sent me an ask in i think 2016 telling me about it after i made a post talking about how i was worried something was wrong! so it makes me sososo happy this post has also done that for others ;0;

[lestatfag]

STAY SAFE!! [ID: the Gilbert Baker pride flag with the words “Happy pride to all those who are unable to celebrate openly and safely. You are loved and seen!” in all-caps black text over it. /end ID]

[autumnunnie]

Oh, the irony

Lee Know x fem!reader (fluff)

synopsis : You and Minho pretend to be dating just to get a special discount for couples at a cafe, and from that day forward he decides it’d be a funny idea to treat you as his girlfriend. Just for funsies, yes, ofc.

📝 writing lino is so fun he’s so tsundere-like. Also I almost named this as ‘case 143’ but I thought it wouldn’t really convey the fic vibe idk 🤷‍♀️ anyways i hope u enjoy it !! <3

tags : Lee Know x fem!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, fake dating as a starting point, ‘what are we’ kinda vibe, sarcasm, mixed signals (not on purpose tho, you’re both just confusing with your emotions lol), lino is referred as Minho

reminder: this is all a made-up fan-fiction just for fun!

It was hard to describe your relationship with Minho. Well, you’re friends. At least that’s what you’re supposed to be.

It was known he wasn’t that open with his emotions and always had a sarcastic comment to make instead. It was hard to tell what’s on his mind, but maybe that’s why you both clicked so well. You were more reserved yourself after all. Just like that, what began as jokes and sillyness evolved into a strong friendship like no other. Over time he became the most trustworthy person you knew. And funniest. And very, very good looking. You might also have this tiny little crush on him. But that’s only a detail, of course.

At this point, you were used to hiding what you felt. However things started getting complicated after that stupid idea. And now you couldn’t tell if he might feel the same or not.

evidence i.

“There’s a discount for couples today,” Minho commented as you both read the big letters on the cafe poster you were about to enter.

“You’re not thinking what I’m thinking,” you say already laughing, and the mischievous look on his face told you everything.

“It’s 35% off, that’s almost a free extra drink!” He chuckles. “Come on, I think we can be very convincing if we try,” he adds already taking your hand on his, intertwining your fingers and leading you inside. You can’t hold back the big smile that forms on your lips.

You both go straight to the attendant to ask for the promotional drinks, hoping for the best.

“Yes, our smoothies are on a special promotion for love birds,” the lady on the balcony explained politely. “Choose two flavors and you get the 35% off.”

“Great!” Minho cheered, his hand leaving yours to go firmly on your waist, bringing you closer, and you hope the way your eyes slightly widen isn’t obvious. He takes the menu. “I think I’ll go with strawberry banana. What about you, love?”

It took you a second to realize he was actually talking to you. Like yes, you’re ‘love’.

“Oh, I… I’d like the same as you, honey,” you say fast so you wouldn’t have to think too much, the pet name sounding strangely nice.

The woman nods as she registers your order. You’re opening your purse to get your wallet when Minho interrupts you.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry babe,” he winks, making you pause in confusion.

“Huh?” You tilt your head. You then steal a glance at the lady and remember you’re supposed to be playing along. You quickly try to disguise your surprise. “We can split, darling, I don’t mind.”

“Come on, it’s our anniversary, of course I’ll pay for us,” he improvises, already tapping his card on the payment terminal before you could protest.

“Oh, anniversary?” The lady looks up at you with curious eyes. “How long have you been together if you don’t mind me asking?”

“One year,” he replies promptly. You nod.

“Aw, that’s sweet. You two look so lovely together, I can tell just by the way you look at each other,” she compliments.

“We get that a lot,” he comments with a small laugh, his hand squeezing your shoulder. You grin to be polite, a bit too aware of his hand on you. It almost makes you miss the way his ears get redder.

“I’ll get your drinks, wait just a moment, please,” the attendant smiles as she turns her back to prepare the drinks.

“Copy cat,” Minho whispers when she’s not looking anymore. “You were supposed to choose a different flavor so I could steal from you.”

“I didn’t expect this to work, I’m nervous!” You whisper back.

“Why wouldn’t it work? You thought they’d ask us to kiss as proof or something?”

“Of course not, that’s not what I meant!” You hiss with your voice low, your cheeks getting a bit warmer.

“Here’s your order,” the friendly woman comes back with tasty smoothies, making you cease your banter immediately. “I hope you have a very special day today. You’re very lucky to have such an attentive gentleman by your side,” she says playfully glancing at you.

“Of course, thank you so much,” you shyly reply, trying to ignore the smirk that was growing on Minho’s face.

You sit on a table near the window, smoothies in hand. You can’t help but feel distracted by all that just happened.

“Wasn’t the discount the whole point of doing this?” You finally ask when you felt your cheeks weren’t on fire anymore.

“Yeah, she did discount it.” He shrugs with the straw between his teeth, already finished with almost one quarter of his drink.

“Then why did you pay for both of us? You ended up spending more anyways.”

He averted his eyes for a second before that smirk returned to his face. “Can’t I be a gentleman to my girlfriend?”

“We’re not actually dating,” you manage to say.

He pinched your cheek. “I got you a 100% discount, so stop complaining.”

evidence ii.

After that day at the cafe, for some unknown reason, Minho thought it’d be a funny idea to treat you as his girlfriend from time to time and started using pet names nonstop. Ironically, of course, as if it was an innocent inside joke. Or at least that’s what it looked like. But your heart couldn’t differentiate a joke from the real thing apparently.

That Tuesday you were at his place helping him with ideas to finish writing a sketch needed for a project which deadline was like, yesterday.

“Can you get the red pen for me, princess?” He asked you after taking some notes.

“Sure.”

“Thank you, honey,” he gave you his signature smirk before going back to writing frantically.

It all sounded like teasing, it definitely was, but it was starting to drive you crazy. Minho’s mixed signals were getting to you, and you couldn’t tell anymore if that was his way of flirting or if he was messing around as usual.

“Shoot, Chan’s already coming to get this paper,” Minho woke you up from your thoughts as soon as his phone screen lightens up with a notification. “He’s gonna nag at me the whole day if this isn’t done when he gets here…”

“You kinda deserve it,” you chuckle.

“It’s not like he didn’t finish his part on the last minute either,” he pouts, still writing.

“Ask him to buy snacks or cat food on his way,” you suggest. “That will buy you at least 15 minutes to finish it.”

“Ooh, genius,” he snapped his fingers and quickly picked up his phone to type the message to Chan, but not without teasing you first. “You’re not just a pretty face after all, huh?”

You didn’t know whether to feel complimented or insulted. He glanced at you and immediately laughed at your expression.

“Can you at least thank me properly for saving you here?” You lightly push his shoulder as retort, the tips of your ears redder.

He looks up at you, that stupid grin still plastered on his face. “Sorry, sorry. You know I’m just messing with you.” The corners of this mouth relax into a more genuine smile. “I’m aware you’re very smart and you’re really, really helping me a lot today. Even if you didn’t have to, you are,” he emphasizes in a sincere tone, carefully tucking a hair strand behind your ear, fond eyes looking straight into yours.

“Of course,” you play it off, trying not to sound as shy as you were getting. “You’ve helped me a lot before too so… It’s only natural.”

“Hm-hum. We’re partners in crime,” he nods, and pauses as if he realizes what he just said. He then gives you a look, his smirk making a return. “Who else would I call in this situation if not my beautiful lover?”

Oh, this again.

“Yeah, sure. Now finish this quickly before Chan gets here,” you chuckle, trying to disguise the way your heart skipped a beat.

evidence iii.

“Horror movie? I’m not sure…” You mumble as you both stand at the movie theater entrance, Minho’s film suggestion not being exactly to your taste.

“This one is not that scary, it’s just a bunch of silly jumpscares. Come on, it will be fun! I’ll even let you embrace me if you’re that terrified, since I’m so reliable.” He bumps your shoulder trying to convince you. “Seriously, you’ll like this one, I promise!”

“You’re insufferable.”

You end up agreeing to go anyways.

He guided you to the tickets balcony with a hand securely on your shoulder. The attendant showed you the available seats on the computer screen. It wasn’t sold out, but it wasn’t empty either, so you still had a few options to choose from.

“Wanna get the seats for couples in the back?” He suddenly suggested.

You knew what he was talking about. The last seats on that movie theater were reserved for couples because you could fold up the center armrests in order to cuddle your partner closer. Now why was he offering that.

You turned to look at him, and he playfully lifted his eyebrows at you. Gosh. He was just teasing you wasn’t he. Why would you cuddle in a horror movie session anyway.

“No thanks,” you answer without thinking, but your heart was thumping on your ears. “Let’s just stick to the seats next to the stairs,” you say, avoiding his eyes this time.

“Pshh, you’re no fun,” he breathes out a small laugh, but selects the seats you picked anyways. He went a bit quieter as he bought popcorn. Meanwhile, you just stood there not sure how unserious he was with all of this.

You couldn’t really focus on the movie that day.

And he didn’t try anything the whole session besides laughing when you got scared.

evidence iv.

“I kinda missed you,” he said with a genuine smile when you bumped into each other by coincidence.

“It’s been barely a week,” you shrugged, trying to keep it together.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, his lips curving into a smirk. “Can’t I miss my girlfriend?”

Yeah, sure.

You sigh. How you wish this could be true. But what if you speak up your mind and make a fool out of yourself? Would it ruin your friendship? What if he laughed at your face?? One hundred different scenarios go through your head to make you give up. …but suddenly your eyes lighten up as an idea came to mind. If he was just teasing you, you could correspond jokingly as well. Just to test the waters.

“If you wanted to see me that much you could have asked me out on a date.”

He stiffens instantly, like he didn’t expect you to actually play along. You never did until now.

“Date?” He echoes just to make sure, eyes slightly widened.

“Yes, honey. That’s what lovers usually do.”

“Really?” He tilts his head, trying to get the teasing tone back to his voice without much success. “So you won’t run off if I ask you out?”

“Run off? You’re ridiculous,” you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction, but you try to stay in character. “Why would I? We’ve been on dates before, haven’t we? The movies and that cafe.”

“…I see.” He finally nod, a tint of red coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, and you could swear you’ve never seen him act so shy, his behavior changing so suddenly. “In that case, would you like to go out with me? I could… pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

You felt like your heart was going to burst.

evidence v.

That day, there weren’t pet names. There weren’t couple jokes either. Actually, you were both a bit tense about the date.

“You know, I chose the cat cafe in hopes it wouldn’t be so awkward but I guess it didn’t work,” he says eventually with an embarassed laugh.

“No, it did work, the cats are cute,” you say quickly while caressing the feline sitting next to you. “I’m just a little distracted today.” A beat. “You’re also quieter.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, eyeing the kitten sleeping close to his leg.

“Yet you’re the one who was entertaining the whole lovers thing the most,” you comment. “I thought you’d be full of that today.”

“Well, yes, I was. But actually, I wanted to tell you that... How do I say it…” he bites his lip. “Today isn’t just teasing or playing pretend. I meant it when I asked you out.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. “I know,” you nodded. “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah?” His tone softens. “I wasn’t sure if you were a fan of the idea since you were kinda pushing me away,” he admits as he fidgets with the straw of his drink.

“What? No, I wasn’t! Really,” you immediately try to explain, the cat next to you meowing in complain of your sudden move. You take a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve actually been overthinking it because I didn’t know whether it was all just a joke or if there was something more to it, so I was afraid of… you know… playing along and end up liking you even more to the point there wasn’t going back anymore,” you quietly finish.

He finally meets your eyes, taking a moment to really look at you.

“…That was the risk I was taking too.”

Your breath catches on your throat. He notices your silence and speaks again.

“I started this couple play-pretend thing because… You know.” He scratches the back of his neck, trying to find the words. “It felt like this way I could say and do all that stuff without scaring you off or sounding weird. Since we’ve been close friends for so long.”

Oh. Oh my.

“It wouldn’t sound weird. It would have worked from the beginning if you were just honest,” you say sheepishly, still trying to process his words.

“Yeah, I realize it now from that cute blush of yours,” he points out, making you redder.

“Oh, shut up,” you look down at the cat peacefully lying beside you again. There was a new feeling blooming in your chest. Giddy, fresh and safe, all at the same time.

“So…” he clears his throat. “May I take you to that cafe again this week? So we can get another couple discount and so I can do things for real this time. No play-pretends.”

And just like this, that excited, insistent smile you’ve been trying to hold back appears on your lips.

“…Will I get that 100% discount again?” You can’t help but tease.

“Sure, pretty.” He breathes out a laugh, not hiding his heart eyes either.

— ahhh this was longer than I expected but it’s kinda rushed at the same time..? anyways i think I’m happy with how it turned out ig dkdndjdj Lemme know what u guys think :))

— masterlist

— taglist @niku0704

[seungmins52ndhairstrand]

When skz is a fan of you

Contains: ot8 x gn!reader

Genre: crack

Warnings: cursing

A/n: motivation hit yaaasss here you go my loveliesss<3

💜masterlist💜

Taglist: OPEN

@velvetmoonlght @chengmeiauau

@iknow-youknow-hyunho @nougatjade

@alice3876 @my-neurodivergent-world

@androgynouscrownorbit @casperlynn23

@lixies-favorite-cookie @jisungooner

@justwonder113 @notmedina127

@geni-627 @chimmyn0chu

@beppybeesnuggets

@angel-writes-skz-here @wolfhallows4

@felixsonlyrealwife @pixie-felix

@purplelady85 @headfirstfortoro

@raineandcl0uds @notmeneo

@bahngarang @emilyywhyy @bi-forest-fire

@angelbbygrl @hanquokkascheeks @cookiewookie9t @ryvannanightshade-kpop @niku0704 @i-like-pandas5 @hyunjinswife4ever @galaxygurlll @emyladia

[whatbigotspost]

2021:

Spanking has negative long-term effects, Texas researcher's review of nearly 70 studies finds

Researchers focused on whether kids that are spanked are more likely to share or, conversely, more likely to have anxiety, years down the li

2021:

The Effect of Spanking on the Brain

Spanking found to impact children's brain response, leading to lasting consequences.

2018:

Science Again Says Spanking Hurts Kids Long Term

The American Academy of Pediatrics says new evidence and research not only show that spanking affects a child’s brain development and increa

2016:

Spanking Harms Kids, Doesn't Work And Leads To Long-Term Problems

Kids who are spanked tend to act out more and have more problems later on.

2012:

A study reviewed more than two decades of research on the effects of spanking and found nothing positive to report, only that physical punis

2010:

The Long-Term Effects of Spanking

A multiyear study shows spanking kids makes them more aggressive later on

I haven’t pissed people off lately by reminding them that ALL types of physical punishment of kids has been proven beyond ANY reasonable doubt to have only negative long term outcomes.

So let me scream it from the hilltops:

Stop hitting kids. End of sentence.

If you think, “but I was hit and I turned out just fine” let me pre-reply: NO YOU DID NOT. You think hitting a child is ok, how the fuck does that qualify as “fine”?????? From one abuse survivor to another: please start healing yourself.

[whatbigotspost]

This post needs a "it's been 5 years" update, so here we go:

2022:

Spanking and children's social competence: Evidence from a US kindergarten cohort study

Spanking is a risk factor for children's social competency. However, establishing causality is a challenge, given selection bias in samples

The effects of spanking on psychosocial outcomes: revisiting genetic and environmental covariation - Journal of Experimental Criminology

Background There is a vast literature on the negative associations between spanking in childhood and various psychosocial developmental outc

2023:

Corporal Punishment in Schools - PubMed

The use of corporal punishment in schools is not an effective or ethical method for management of behavior concerns and causes harm to stude

Spanking and executive functioning in US children: A longitudinal analysis on a matched sample

Spanking has been linked to multiple maladaptive child outcomes. However, previous research linking spanking with children's executive funct

2024:

Corporal punishment is believed to precede various forms of violent behavior, yet prior research has yielded inconsistent findings, partly d

2025:

Corporal punishment of children: the public health impact

This technical report describes the prevalence, risk factors for, and consequences of child corporal punishment, which it defines as “any pu

Spanking and other physical discipline lead to exclusively negative outcomes for children in low- and middle-income countries

Physically punishing children in low- and middle-income countries (LMICs) has exclusively negative outcomes -- including poor health, lower

[thegreenlynx]

Limbo (Commitment & Dating Profiles) - Changbin ver.

Description: In which bsf! Stray Kids find out you are seeing someone else.

Pairing: Changbin x fem reader

Genre: slight angst

Content Warnings: swearing, bad communication, mentions of sex and one-night stand, mentions of dating site usage, non-committal reader, mentions of Han & I.N looking for a gf + being called pervs, 2minbinin bickering, implied Seungmin is reader's other bsf, switches between android & ios format (light green messages are Changbin's pov, the bright green messages are the reader's pov).

SS Count: 21

A/N: Want the rest of the Limbo series? Read Here ↴ | I.N | Bangchan | Minsung | Lee Know | Seungmin | Hyunjin | Felix | Han |

Fake Text Works

Recommended Work

Taglist: @dessianna1

[linomilkers]

OMEGAVERSE OT8 x Reader: part 4

Poly OT8 x Reader

Description: Jeongin and Minho help Y/N through this wave of heat. Y/N thinks it must be really nice to have a pack

[warnings: oral (male-receiving), knotting, cum/slick play, cum sharing, threesome, dirty talk, piv, no protection, mentions of being hospitalized d/t heat, a little teeth action, lots of groping, alphas: Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin/omegas: Minho, Felix, Jisung, Seungmin, general omega verse antics]

read part 1 here!!

read part 2 here!!

read part 3 here!!

a/n: hiiiiiiii, me again! Sorry this took literally forever and the fic is not even done yet ofmdgfmgog, but I didn't want to make you wait any longer! You have all been very patient with me so thank you! I found that it's a little easier to two a couple pairings at a time to establish some dynamics before going balls to the wall orgy, but the orgy is coming, trust meee!!! I'm once again worried about this taglist haha, I hope I added everyone who wanted to be on it! Thank you all again for such sweet comments, I hope you enjoy more poly OT8 omegaverse brain worms!

10.7k+ words

Y/N had always wanted to be in a pack. 

She had never thought much about it, but it was just something that she knew she wanted. Something that, when they learned about them in school, she was bummed they were recognized as a necessity of the past and no longer an evolutionary requirement. Y/N remembered, even in her school-aged days, thinking about how nice it would be to just have a group of people to cuddle, kiss, and love. She always had so much love to give in her heart, barely able to bottle it sometimes -- it felt like it would be too much for one person. 

And sometimes it was. She could be clingy and needy, but she knew people didn't like that, so she reeled it in the best she could. Alpha partners she's had in the past always praised her for her independence, so she thought that's what they wanted from her. To not need the constant scenting and the cuddling, even if a knotting didn't precede it. Y/N would like to come home and curl in someone's lap and scent them until they melt into each other in such a way that you wouldn't be able to tell where she ended and they began. She would like to nest with their clothes outside of her heat without it being weird. She'd want to be a little whiny and have them placate her with kisses and coos about how she's cute. 

With omegas, that was easier. Y/N had casually dated a couple of omegas before, but they always ended up breaking things off, usually when the other person realized how much they missed being knotted. Which. . .well, that sucked. Especially because with omegas, constant scenting and snuggling were sort of a given; finding comfort in each other and understanding the hormonal shifts and instinctual needs was nice. Y/N didn't feel like she was as much of a bother with omegas as she felt like she could be with alphas, if she expressed all that she wanted all of the time. 

Beta partners were somewhere in the middle for her. They were always very sweet and calming, but she was still too worried about being too much that she almost accidentally always made it seem like she didn't like them at all. It was frustrating, because most of the time she liked them too much, which was precisely why she was trying to be "normal". Y/N had only two long-ish term relationships with betas, and both times it didn't work out, Y/N couldn't help but feel like she was the problem.

It was a heavy load on her shoulders, though. To be in a pack would be so nice; if there was something she couldn't give to one person, it'd be quite easy for them to find it in another without her feelings getting hurt. And if there was something she needed, she'd have a couple of avenues to obtain it without making someone else uncomfortable having to put up with her. Sometimes she thought maybe she was being selfish, wanting to have her cake and eat it too, but it was just a fantasy is all. A maladaptive daydream that got her through hard times. 

And then she met Felix. 

Felix used to just be the sweet, omega customer who always seemed to come around when she was the manager on duty at work, and they were drowning. He smelled so sweet, all the time, free of his scent patch and with a pretty smile on his mouth. He ordered the same strawberry smoothie and raspberry muffin every time he came in during the morning rush. Y/N, no matter how overwhelmed and busy they were, always made time to ask how his day was and drew his name with a silly little cat on the plastic cup. She warmed his muffin too, just because, and he'd always wish her well in a very deep voice that rarely matched his appearance. 

That's all he'd been for a while -- just her favorite pretty customer that she liked to daydream about. Y/N thinks it'd be fun to date Felix, because he wears pretty clothes and he's sweet, and whenever she asks what his plans were for the day, it always seemed like something fun. In a couple of her daydreams, she would ask him what he was doing after she got off shift, and he would say he's free, then Y/N would suggest something super casual like staring longingly into each other's eyes during a walk in the park. And then he'd fall in love with her, ask her to be his girlfriend, and they'd scent and cuddle and melt into one being or something, she doesn't know -- it was just another fantasy. 

But then one day, she's literally having the worst shift ever. One of her coworkers was on vacation, and the other called in because her cat ate a hair tie and needed to go to the vet. Which left Y/N alone to deal with the morning rush, and of course, it was a Monday, so every person in the city decided they needed coffee from this shop in particular. It didn't help that they were in the business district, which is good for business, but bad for break times if you wanted one. So her feet were aching, her upper back hurt, she reeked of the espresso she accidentally got all over her apron, and she burned her hand on the oven when she was warming a sandwich. It didn't help that she'd not slept much the night before, and her weird situationship had officially called it off randomly at 4 AM because he met a cute omega who was really into scenting and cuddling and needed him the way he wanted to be needed (which Y/N could have done too, if she wasn't so busy trying to not be herself and seem nonchalant, but he was sort of a dick anyway). 

Really, it was a bad day all around. When the morning rush had finally settled, and Y/N was holding her face in her hands with her elbows resting on the counter -- the doorbell chimed again. She hadn't even bothered looking up while she attempted to steel herself before she took a deep breath, so she didn't cry as soon as someone gave her their complicated coffee order. 

But then a deep, but caring and soft voice said, "Y/N? Are you okay?" 

She looked up to see Felix, but he wasn't alone. To his left was another man who looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine page and into her cafe. His hair was ginger at the time, but she could tell it was dyed and mussy atop his head in a fashionable way. Y/N hated that she was meeting Felix's hot, sexy alpha friend when she probably looked seconds away from morphing into a coffee bean, but she still mustered her best smile. 

"Oh, hi Felix," she cleared her throat, then willed her voice not to wobble, "Um, it's just been sort of a horrible shift so far." And Felix, who always smells like jasmine and the wind in spring, oozes the most comforting scent. It took her a second to realize he was doing it to calm her down -- she realized she probably must stink, with how stressed she was, but he didn't even wrinkle his nose when he walked in. His friend was looking at her with a small, empathetic pout, but he had a patch on his neck that covered his scent entirely. His glasses slid to the tip of his nose, but he pressed them back up, "Hi, Felix's friend. What would you guys like to drink?" 

Felix placed a hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing a little, "Why don't you come sit down, hm?"

"Oh, but I should really clean out the machine since there's some downtime," she motioned toward the back, "I'm the only one here, so --" 

"Just for a little?" 

So Y/N did sit with them. She found out that the guy with Felix is named Jeongin, and actually, they were dating. It was a blow that snuffed out every daydream Y/N had about dating Felix and skipping along their omega merry way -- like a cigarette under the toe of a boot. She sort of wanted to cry about it, but she thinks that was more so a product of the day she'd been having, and this just piled on top of it. Honestly, she always knew she didn't stand a chance with Felix; he was out of her league and too good to be true. There was no way it would have surpassed fantasy status. 

However, when Y/N asked him when he and Jeongin met and how long they'd been together, he said, "Oh, for a while now -- like, 7 or 8 years? That's when we started the pack at least." 

She paused, blinked at them a couple of times as the sentence processed in her brain. 

"You're a part of a pack?" She repeated, and Felix nodded, grinning. 

Felix spoke with his hands a lot, but he grabbed his phone like he meant to show her a photo of them all. "I know it's not super common anymore, but yeah -- I think packs get a lot of flak for being some old age, primal arrangement, but it's actually super fulfilling and really lovely, so --" 

"Yongbokkie," Jeongin spoke -- he didn't speak a lot, but from what he had said, Y/N thought his voice was pretty. She knew that he hadn't grown up in Seoul, though, and his slight lisp was really cute, "You're making her cry." 

And Y/N felt bad, that when Felix looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. His face warped into that of pure distress as Y/N shook her head, covering her face, "No! No, I'm okay, I'm sorry," her voice warbled, "You're in a pack? That's so amazing! I think that's so beautiful, I've always wanted to be in one myself, haha, they should be more common?" 

The sound of a chair scooting against the floor was loud, scraping an echo that bounced off the sides of her skull. Her head hurt that day, too, she remembered, and her stomach grumbled at the same time as everything else. She just wanted to crawl into her nest and bury herself in blankets until the day washed away. It was all so embarrassing; Felix probably should have grabbed Jeongin's hand and run the hell out of there before she could do anything else humiliating. 

But he doesn't. Instead, he plopped down in the chair beside her and drew her into a hug. It was the sort of hug that you give a friend you've known for a long time, not your barista that you're familiar with, but Y/N melted into it all the same. He smelled so good, and his hand was delicate and gentle against the back of her neck, where he petted her carefully. He squeezed her, "When's the last time you ate, Sweetheart?" 

She sniffled, her voice muffled against his chest, "I -- um. . .Well, I had half a bagel around 6, but then I dropped the rest on the way here." 

Y/N could hear the pout in Felix's voice, "That was 6 hours ago, and not nearly enough," he clicked his tongue, "I bet you haven't been drinking any water either. Innie used to work in a cafe, so he knows how to use the little oven, yeah? He's flipping the sign to ‘closed’, and he's going to warm you something. You need a proper break." 

If that was what it was even remotely like to be in a pack, Y/N understood the appeal even more than she had before. Felix wiped away her tears and spoke to her gently, and Jeongin did somehow work very diligently in warming her one of their sandwiches. They were very nice to her, and after she ate something and took a few pain pills from Jeongin's stash in his bag ("They tease me about being a walking pharmacy, but everyone's really grateful when they need something."), she felt a lot better. 

"Thank you," she remembered saying before they left, "I really appreciate all of this so much, and I'm so humiliated I kind of want to espresso myself." 

Felix squeezed her thigh, still pumping out all these comforting pheromones to set her back at ease, "Don't worry about any of it," he told her, "I'll be back tomorrow for my usual, okay?" 

After that, Felix would either come by himself or bring a different packmate each time, slowly introducing Y/N to all of them. She wasn't sure what he was doing apart from just going on mini dates with his boyfriends. It did sort of seem like he was plotting something, but she couldn't put a finger on what and couldn't explain why it felt that way, so she ignored it. All of his packmates were very sweet, and if they were able to talk for a couple of minutes, she understood why Felix loved them all so much. They were funny and silly, and all of them were so pretty it was almost annoying. 

He had introduced her to everyone but Chan, who Y/N understood to be the pack alpha. The opportunity to meet him came in an invitation; one afternoon, Felix told Y/N they were having their first barbecue of the summer season the following Saturday and that she was welcome to come. 

Y/N had felt a little hesitant at first. "Would that be okay?" She remembered asking, twisting the strings of her apron around her index and middle fingers. Felix had come alone again to propose this. If she didn't know any better, then she'd think he'd done it for her benefit, so that she wouldn't feel pressured by two people staring at her waiting for an answer. But that would be giving herself a little too much self-importance, she thought, probably. Hell, what if they don't even know that he was inviting her? Felix probably just saw her as this sad little stray on the side of the road with no pack and no prospects, and wanted to feed her -- get her out of the storm, fluff her up, then take her to a shelter. "Like. . .to come to your home? That's okay?" 

Felix tilted his head, "Of course," he replied, "Why wouldn't it be?" 

She remembered shrugging, "I -- oh, I don't know. I just thought pack houses were sacred or something." 

He scrunched his nose, "Yeah, it might have been sacred before Jisung's hole-y underwear entered it," he giggled, "We want you there! Everyone likes you, you know? And I'd love to hang out with you for longer than a lunch break or a chat in between you making lattes. If you're interested, at least." 

Of course Y/N was interested! She had tried to map out what their house looked like 1000 times, so to actually get the offer -- she would've been stupid to turn it down. 

So she agreed, and she went, and she meant Chan the first time and just about drooled. She'd never met a pack alpha before, and even in the first couple of minutes, she understood why he was. Could see why they all trusted him wholeheartedly, why they chose him as their leader. He smells good, like the sort of breeze you only smell when you're close to the ocean. He's not super tall, but his presence alone makes it feel like he's looming over them at 10 feet. And he walked like his knot was fat too, so like. . .yeah, Y/N was a little bewitched. 

Plus, he was nice. He was soft when he spoke to her and gentle. His hair was soft and pretty, long like Felix's at the time. He was mostly tied up with grilling when she was there, but she saw him interact with his pack members throughout the night. How he acted cute for them, how he would sort of whine and bleat for attention every so often. It was fun to see that he wasn't some intense, silent, brooding presence. 

They were really welcoming. Felix stayed by her side that whole night, and Minho silently piled her plate with plenty of food (and Y/N thought it was cute how his ears went red when she went back for seconds of the kimchi-jjigae and told them how delicious it was). She shared a relatively big piece of meat with Felix and tried the pepper that Hyunjin offered right off his kabob skewer (she found out very early how much Hyunjin loved omegas, and how willing he was to share anything and everything). Changbin praised her for eating so well, then went on a spiel about protein and carbs and some fitness stuff that went right over her head, and Jeongin called her noona right away, hiding behind her in the pool when Changbin and Jisung were chasing after him, splashing. Jisung pouted when she was braiding shells into Felix's hair (he had a whole pack of them), until she gave him a tiny braid with a shell close to the front of his head. Seungmin was silly, and they locked eyes when he was cheating in whatever water game they were playing, so he put a finger up to his lips, and Y/N nodded, agreeing not to say anything. 

And toward the end of the night, when the sun was starting to set, and Chan was dripping water from his hair, he plopped down in the spot beside her on the edge of the pool. "Felix has told us loadssss about you," he told her, and Y/N was practicing an absurd amount of self-restraint not to look at his bare chest, "I'm sorry I was never able to make it to the cafe and meet you properly. Everyone kept saying how nice you were, though, so I'm glad you could come today." 

"Oh, that's -- yes! Thank you for having me," she motioned around, "Your home is really beautiful. And the food was very good, I don't think I've eaten this well since I moved out." 

Chan chuckled, and it was warm, and bright, and wow -- was a requirement to be in the pack to have pretty, plush lips or what? "Well, you're welcome to come over any time you want. It's good to have a little estrogen in this house now and then," he waved his hand at all of the men in the pool, splashing around, "It's sort of a cock fest." 

Y/N laughed, and at the sound of it, Felix came swimming over underwater, appearing suddenly at her feet, "What's so funny?" He asks, eyes still closed but tilted in her direction. His small hand grabs her calf and squeezes. Jisung comes too, on his orange slice floaty, bouncing off the edge of the pool. 

"Yeah, you haven't laughed like that for me all night, and I know for a fact I'm funnier than Channie." 

Chan's response was to jump into the pool and take Jisung with him, splashing into the water, and Y/N squealed a little with Felix, who twisted to look up at her from the pool. His hands gripped the edge, and his chin rested on the side of it. They'd been in the sun all day, so his freckles were even more prominent than they usually are, blinking up with her with a gaze so big and brown she understood every meme she'd seen about people having boba eyes. 

"You're having fun?" He inquired, smiling up at her, and even if she wasn't, she would have lied. But thankfully, there had been no need to -- Y/N was having a lot of fun, actually. 

"Yes," she agreed, "A lot! I think I'll probably sleep really well tonight." 

Felix grinned even wider, pressed his face into her damp calf, and held her ankle, "Yay," he cheered, "You'll have to come over all of the time then." 

And he really meant it. Felix invited her to everything, and then, when the others got her number, they started inviting her places too. It's how she ended up in Osaka with Jisung, in this whole, huge predicament where he started his heat during a convention (they both watched the same show, and Minho, who would have gone with him, had already agreed to house sit for a relative, so he couldn't). Y/N had smelled it on him as soon as he peeled his scent patch off the first day. He had been fussing, whining, had one single shirt that Y/N recognized as Felix's (but now she wasn't sure because they all share their clothes), and she had realized that was his nest. 

(Y/N remembered being pretty nervous, because she'd never helped someone through a heat before, especially someone who was mated. Honestly, she didn't even know if she was allowed in his "nest" at first, until she'd very gently, tentatively said, "Jisungie? Can I put some cold cloths on your head?" and he grumbled, kicking his feet, saying, "Why aren't you in here cuddling me? Do you hate me? If you do just say it!") 

After that, Y/N thinks she'd solidified her spot as a permanent friend. She'd only had Jisung alone for a day before Chan and Hyunjin got there, and he was still early enough in his heat that he didn't need her to get him off or anything. But she'd been prepared to help in all ways that she could. They were all very grateful to her for looking after him, and when being in such close quarters with another omega in heat, inevitably threw her into hers a couple of weeks early -- well, they told her to let them know if she needed anything. 

Y/N had kept it a secret, how hard her heats were. She wasn't in the business of being a burden or a bother, especially when she knew they were all so busy. The last thing any of them needed was some random, unmated omega complaining about how horrible it was to go through her heat alone. How her cramps were debilitating, enough to have her doubled over and unable to move for hours. How her fevers reached such high temperatures that it was getting borderline dangerous, if she didn't sit in a cool bath to try and bring it down. How she wouldn't be able to get out of bed, trembling even to grab the water and protein bars she placed on her nightstand for easy access. How, no matter how many times she rode her knotting dildo, or used a vibrator, or even just her hand, it was never satisfying and nowhere near enough to satiate her desires. 

It sucked, but she was used to it at that point. Her heats had always been horrible, starting from her very first, so she went to the doctor's regularly for check-ups. So there was a clear history of when they started getting worse, the longer she went unmated, with only a few dips in severity if she was in a relationship. Even then, no matter omega or alpha or beta, Y/N's heats were intense. Being knotted and/or scented by one person just didn't cut it. 

So when her doctor said she should try one with a pack. . .well, it made sense. It all made so much sense, even though it was scary, and exciting, and nerve-racking. Maybe it was something written down to the very sequence of codes that made her DNA. Perhaps that's why she'd always wanted to be in a pack so badly, not just a want, but actually a need of some kind. She needed a pack. Her body needed it, her mind needed it. 

But there weren't just hundreds of packs looking to add someone on a rainy day. And as soon as her doctor had suggested it, Felix's face popped into her head immediately. Felix and his sweet smile, in their big nesting room that he'd shown her once while taking her through the house on a tour. The big, nice nest, with all his mates, and all of them welcoming her inside of it, and scenting her, and holding her, and... her eyes did tear up some, yeah. Could you blame her? That seemed so nice! There was no way she could ask, though. . .no way she could impose that on all of them. She would just need to stick it out like she always did, suffer through it, and come out on the other end hopefully. 

The days come and go, and the threat of her heat is making her stomach turn all the time. It would be a bad one, she could sense it already, and it was when a violent set of cramps tore her from bed one morning that she decided that she needed to call. It would be nice to at least see. And if they said no, then she wouldn't spend the whole time wondering if it could have happened. She knew, though, that she couldn't call Felix, because Felix would say yes in an instant -- he wouldn't even really think about it, and probably wouldn't consider how anyone else felt on the matter. She needed to ask the person she knew would look at it from an objective view. . .one that would see the whole picture, rather than just seeing their friend in pain. 

So she called Chan. She stumbled through the request, and she waited very patiently for him to discuss it with his pack mates. She'd prepared herself, with an aching belly, to hear something along the lines of 'We're sorry, but that just doesn't really work for us, we only accept pack members mating cycles and adding you would kind of be a bother', pacing back and forth, gnawing at her bottom lip, pulling at her upper one, feeling her eyes bead with tears on and off. Y/N was scared. She really didn't know what she would do if they said no. 

"We discussed it, and yeah, you can spend it with us." 

And wow! How exciting! Y/N packed with such a skip in her step, her cramps didn't even matter anymore. She'd get to go over, and they'd treat her like a pack member, probably, at least a little bit, and even if she couldn't go into the nesting room, she would be happy just to be around all of their scents. Maybe they'd let her nest in the guest room or something. Or maybe Felix's room? He'd sent her a message that night promising her that he would take care of her no matter what during her heat. That he'd already called off work, so there would always be someone in the house regardless. She was nervous, because these were her friends and they were about to see her in not her best state, but still excited. Y/N knew they'd take care of her well, whether they wanted to be intimate with her or not. 

All of that led her here. She was snuggled into Jeongin's side with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close. His glasses were at the tip of his nose while he scrolled through his socials, and she could tell he was pumping out more of his scent for her. Felix and Hyunjin had both left the nest -- Hyunjin to shower, she thinks, and Felix to eat? Or maybe he was showering too. She isn't sure -- they'd been showering together the last few days, so she didn't know if he was planning on keeping that up or not. Y/N would understand if he wanted to get clean, though; she'd had them in bed all morning. She'd lost track of how many times they'd made her cum, how much slick she'd gotten on them, how much she sweated. Hyunjin was sweaty too, almost like he was in heat, but she knew that his baseline was pretty sweaty (and he still always smells so good, which is unfair). 

Her waves of heat are very irregular, and they always have been. Her peaks and valleys were all over the place, and she thinks everything is a little more hectic, considering she's being taken care of so well. She doesn't feel as out of her mind as she usually does, though, but on the first official day, she is never really as foggy. Her second day is when her brain is more full of cotton. 

Right now, she is good, though. Jeongin is nice to be pressed against, and he didn't seem to mind that she was probably hot to the touch. Did she smell good to him? She worried that she wouldn't. Y/N actually didn't know what everyone thought about her scent, since she'd been so preoccupied with theirs. Like right now, she's worried about her own, but she's absolutely drowning in Jeongin's. It's like when she worked at a bakery a couple of years ago, how it used to smell in the mornings when the bread would come out of the oven. She liked working mornings for that reason (and because evening time is when the boss liked to work. At the time, she didn't know, but soon figured out he was using the bakery as a cover-up for a whole drug thing. . .it was sort of crazy.). 

She absently pawed at his shirt, and he understood what she wanted. Silently, he raised the hem of it, and Y/N scooted down his body. It was nice, getting up under their shirts. It's something she's always done with the people she felt safest with. She tried once with a boyfriend three years ago, and he sort of made fun of her for it, so she hadn't tried again since. None of Felix's pack made her feel weird about it. Honestly, they sort of encouraged it, especially when it made her purr. 

Jeongin giggles when she does start to purr, unbeknownst to her at first. She can't make herself purr; they just happen when she's at her most content, so sometimes she doesn't even realize it. His belly is nice -- it's a little softer than it usually is, which Y/N likes. The softest bellies are the nicest for her head, so she'd been willing them with her brain waves to eat a lot and not worry about working out or anything. At least not doing crunches. 

The moment is fleeting, however, when the door clicks open, and Minho's scent fills the room. It wasn't bad by any stretch -- Y/N loves Minho's scent. Being cuddled with him is like snuggling your nose into a pile of fresh, warm laundry straight out of the dryer. Honestly, he might have her favorite scent in the whole house, and he lets her breathe him in as much as she wants, pumps it out in waves, lets her get drunk off of it. He always sort of lets her, which is nice. 

When she first met them, Minho was always kind, but she felt like he might not have liked her for a while. At least it's what she thought until one day, she came over to see Felix, who hadn't actually gotten home yet. Minho was the one who answered the door and offered for her to wait in his room, or -- "You could sit out here with me instead. When's the last time you've eaten?" With a furrowed brow, he inquired. Y/N thought his brow was furrowed because he was irritated with her, but she found out weeks later (from Felix) that she'd looked a little flushed and pretty exhausted. Coincidentally, her heat had been a week and a half prior, and she was still recuperating from it. He could smell that she wasn't doing well from kilometers away. 

So she sat in the kitchen while he warmed her a meal on the stove and chopped up some extra veggies (which she only later realized were her favorites -- how he knew what they were, she couldn't tell you). He made sure she drank two glasses of water and ate all of her food, which she did graciously. Once she was finished, he took her back to the living room and held out his arm, "Bokkie says you like to cuddle." He doesn't ask it like a question or really say anything else. And Y/N is burrowed in his side just a moment later, nuzzling close. It was the closest she'd been with any of them besides Felix, and the most time she'd spent alone. She even fell asleep before waking up hours later in Felix's room, with him playing games in bed beside her. 

"You smell like Minho hyung," he told her, tossing the game in favor of rolling over and wrapping his arm around her, "S'good. Isn't he good at cuddling?" 

So, yeah, Y/N loves his scent. It's why she notices the smallest twinge in it, something that's not necessarily irritation but something close. Disappointment? That makes her stomach twist. 

"What is this I'm hearing about you refusing the avocado?" He bent down, his knees off the mattress to still respect her nest, and her head was revealed from beneath Jeongin's shirt, "Hm? Didn't I tell you to eat everything on your plate?" 

"Hyung, be nice," Jeongin coos, petting the top of her head, "She's never liked avocado." 

Y/N's vision is a little hazy, and so is her brain, but she can feel herself pouting up at Minho. He looks pretty -- he always does. His face is soft, even though he's a little upset with her; his eyes give away that he couldn't be too mad. 

"Well, this is news to me," Minho replied, "Considering she always eats it when I put it on her plate in any form: sliced, mashed, mixed with lime juice and chopped onion. . ." 

"Because she doesn't want to disappoint you," Jeongin explained, and Y/N wondered how he knew -- had she ever told him before? Everyone seems to know much more about her than she thought they did. "You and Binnie hyung praise her so much when her plate is clean, she eats even the parts she doesn't like, for you." Jeongin is not one for skinship, they told her once, but he's always been accepting whenever she wants it. Y/N thinks he just puts on an act for everyone else because he likes the chase of it. But right now, his fingers feel good on her scalp, and he has her fit in the cradle of his legs perfectly. 

Minho huffs, "My baby could never disappoint me," he grumbled, "Let me in." 

Y/N nods before she feels Minho crawl into the nest as well. He strokes his wrist against hers where it rested on the bed, before tipping his nose against her sweaty nape, "Sorry," she musters up, "I'm sorry." 

"Shh, I'm not mad," he murmurs, letting his tongue lull against her salty skin, and Y/N shivers, "I'll find an alternative then. When's the last time you were knotted?" 

Jeongin answered for her, "Two hours ago? Hyunjin did, but Lix had just stuffed her full when I'd gotten here." 

Minho clicks his tongue before his hands find her hips and his fingers press deep dents into her flesh, "I can smell that you need it again," he tells her, "You've been slicking all over the nest with Innie, haven't you? Did our baby alpha get you all worked up?" 

Her whole body flushes with heat, almost like Minho had just reminded her how badly she needed it. In an instant, she feels too empty -- nothing in her mouth, nothing in her pussy, nothing in her bum. How horrible is that? When she can feel the swell and press of Jeongin's cock against her tummy, especially with Minho stretched across her back, pushing her down? It's miserable. She needs it so badly. So, so, so badly. 

A whine leaves her throat, her hips wriggling uselessly, but Minho's heavy on top of her. His knees are on either side of her, just like his arms, so he's caging her in; she feels safe and warm beneath him. Even safer and warmer pressed up against Jeongin, and his prick that she hadn't noticed was hard. Had it been hard this whole time, or did this just happen? She doesn't know. She needs it. Has she said that out loud yet? Words are just too hard right now, though. 

"My sweet kitty," Minho presses plush kisses from her nape to her ear, pulling the top between his teeth and nipping playfully, "You're supposed to ask for what you want, hm? Or do you just want Innie to know?" He nips again, and Y/N tries to swallow the drool that's threatening to dribble from her mouth, "Stupid Alpha, doesn't he know he's supposed to read your mind?" 

Jeongin whines now, "Heyyyyy. We were doing just fine!" Minho uses one hand to squeeze around Jeongin's hip, his thumb finding the dip where the muscle leads down to his dick, swollen in his briefs. He's sensitive there; his hips jolt forward, but he continued his complaint, "I was letting her sleep. She needs rest." 

"She needs a knot," Minho counters, "Don't you, kitty? Need this stupid alpha to fill up this tight little pussy?" 

Y/N rubs her face into Jeongin's belly, pushing her nose into his belly button, "Not. . .stupid," she forces her mouth to move, "Innie isn't stupid." 

"Yeah," Jeongin pets the top of her head, "Don't let hyung turn you evil like he did the others." 

Minho scoffs, and she thinks he must bite Jeongin's hand because the youngest alpha squawks and jerks his hand away from her head, "She's just too sweet, little heat drunk thing. Now lift your hips, stupid alpha, and get your knot out." 

Jeongin lifts his hips, managing the weight of both her and Minho on top of him. His cock nearly slapped against his belly, but her body is in the way, so it slaps against her neck a little, touching her chin. Y/N breathes out a sigh, her mouth finding his prick instantly like a magnet had led her there. Jeongin moans when she sponges wet, drooling kisses all over the shaft, on the head, sliding her tongue into his slit. Precum oozes around the tip of her tongue, her eyes fluttering closed while the taste of him fills her mouth. He moans, high and pretty, while his hand finds the top of her head again. His fingers thread in her hair, close to the root. 

"That's it," Minho's hands slip down her back. They still feel cool against her heated skin, palms skating along either side of her spine. Y/N pushes back against him, his zipper digging into her bum, and the hard press of his cock makes her moan. Minho isn't as big as an alpha, but he's still a handful, a mouthful; something that feels good when it's in or around her at any capacity. She kisses along Jeongin's shaft, down to the starting swell of a knot. Felix had whispered to her once that when an omega in the pack is in heat, all of the alphas are practically pre-swollen, their body always prepared to knot at least once. When he shared this tidbit with Y/N, she thought he'd just been bragging about how lucky he was. She'd brag too, if that was what she got during her heat. 

She did not expect it to mean her heat as well. Hyunjin was already swollen when he'd peeled off his briefs, but she'd attributed that to him being a sucker for omegas. It was a little more suspicious with two alphas already having their knots swell preemptively, but Jeongin is still only 2ish years out of presentation, and their bodies are still quite sensitive to pheromones, especially heat. She'd overheard Changbin, though, when they thought she was asleep under Seungmin's shirt, that the base of his dick was sore and sensitive. Even Chan had been readjusting himself more, and he's typically pretty polite about doing that.

So maybe it's just any omega in heat? She isn't sure, really. Y/N doesn't have many alpha friends outside of this pack, and they had never discussed the intricacies of their knot during a packmate's heat. How was she supposed to know? All she knew right now was that she was warm, and she took Jeongin down as close to the root as she could, choking around him. It made him groan, his legs twitching up and around her -- "Fuck," he cries out, tugging at her head to pull her back where Y/N drools all over his shaft, his balls, coughing a little before sucking in a sharp breath. Her eyes sting, and she is about to dip down and get him back in her mouth, but Minho stops her. 

"C'mon, honey, Innie can't handle that," he murmurs, sliding his arm over the front of her shoulders and tugging her up to his chest, "He'll try to pop his knot in your mouth." Y/N whines, shivering as Minho ushers her forward and all but drops her on his cock. Twin moans lift in the air when her messy slit meets Jeongin's shaft. His hips buck forward, slipping between her folds, and Minho is still holding onto her tightly, but now he's a bit lower. She felt him reach down with one hand to touch her, his fingers slipping between her lips and spreading her open. Jeongin moans, and it gets louder when Minho grips his cock. Y/N could only imagine that he grabbed it a little tightly, as he tilted it up so that the tip was lined up with her hole. 

He guides them like two dolls he was pushing together. Minho presses her down and keeps Jeongin's cock still until she feels the head stretch her hole out. Y/N sighs out the further she sinks on him, her walls mold around him, shaping to his prick. Her heart is racing, thundering in her chest, while one hand rests against his belly, the other grips Minho's arm wrapped around her waist. 

"There you go," he hums, "My two little kitties." 

Y/N likes it when Minho takes ownership of her in any way. She likes being his anything, and even if it's pretend, it makes her feel like she's in the pack. Not just some outsider that they're letting stay, so she doesn't get hospitalized due to her heat. Once she's seated, he lets his fingers dance all around her again, on her sides, up her arms, squeezing around her shoulders, and then running his thumb against her scent gland. Her scent gets more potent, filling the room further while Minho's nose is pressing against the opposite end of her throat, breathing it in from her other gland. Jeongin's big hands find her hips, his fingers dig into the flesh, and he plants his feet on either side. 

He starts to bounce her with an ease that she'd never really experienced before. If Minho wasn't holding onto her, she definitely would have fallen forward. Y/N mewls, her head lulling back -- it felt really good, to be stretched like this, and filled up. He hits the swollen, spongy bump inside of her with every buck of his hips; the sound of their skin slapping is loud. There was not a lot of buildup, but she really didn't need it. Her thighs squeeze his hips tightly, and Minho grabs one of her breasts, kneading it. 

"Does that feel good, Aegi?" Minho asks, and Y/N isn't sure who he's asking, but both she and Jeongin make pathetic sounds. He chuckles, clicking his tongue, "Yeah? Alpha, are you g'na knot her?" 

"Yes," Jeongin's face is flushed, and strands of his hair press messy against his face. His mouth is red and spit slicked, hanging open, and Y/N can see the sharp point of canines meant to bite and mark, and she shivers from how badly she needs it. That's all she wants, actually, is to be bit, and marked, and claimed by them. She couldn't ask for that, but she wanted to. Sometimes it's for the best that her mouth doesn't always move when she wants to speak like this. That would be embarrassing, really, even though she knew they might understand it was her heat talking. 

But her hand moves before she can really think about it, because while her mouth is useless, her fingers aren't. And they trail up his tummy, over his chest, along his throat until she is at his chin. Jeongin didn't say anything, lips still parted for her as she slid her finger inside and touched his tooth with the tip of her index. It's pointy, shiny -- it nearly pierces her skin from how much pressure she tries to put on it. 

One of Jeongin's hands leaves her hips and grabs her wrist. He pulls her hand away so that she doesn't actually injure herself, but stays close enough that she's still touching his mouth. He pushes kisses into her palm, dragging the edge of his teeth against the meat of it, "What is it, hm?" Jeongin asks, "You want me to bite you?" 

"Ahhh, this is fun," Minho hums from behind her, "She's awfully bite-y herself, I didn't know it went both ways. You want Alpha to bite you, huh? Mark you up? Make you his?" Y/N trembles all over, and when Jeongin playfully nips at her thumb, she cums before she even realizes it's happening. It's rapid little squeezes, and tons of slick oozing out of her, all over his cock, slipping over his knot, and down against his balls. Jeongin's eyes flutter, rolling back, while Minho curses beneath his breath, a soft, "Fuck." 

Y/N is surprised she's being held together -- she thinks Minho is the one holding her together -- but any sense of keeping her body lifted is completely gone. She's slumping in Minho's hold, enough that he carefully guides her down to press her front to Jeongin's. 

"God, hyung, her pussy is so messy," Jeongin pushes his nose into the top of her head, rolling his hips in a way that starts fitting his knot inside of her, "She's perfect, s'like -- wow, fuck -- I --" 

Minho chuckles, his hands on her hips, rubbing soothing circles like he knows where they're sore, "Yeah, I had a feeling you'd like pussy. Y/N's the first one you've tried, hm?" Jeongin hums his assent, and Y/N's brain feels like it's melting from her ears. She swallows hard, thickly, her eyes squeezing closed as another orgasm starts to build. Each tug of his knot against her hole is making her feel crazy, and the wet sound of her pussy is echoing through her ears and making her a little embarrassed, "It'll be the first time a lot of you have felt it." 

The noise that leaves her is a moan and a squeal when Jeongin's knot finally slips inside of her. Then he's grinding her down against him, with the help of Minho, and rubs her swollen clit against his pelvis. Heat boils over in her belly as she starts to squeeze around his knot, milking it when he starts to cum, hot white streaks painting up her walls. His fingers dug into her deep, and he held on so tightly she wondered if he would leave marks behind. Y/N hoped it would; she didn't mind. It felt good with him so deep inside of her, like she could feel him in her belly. And to be surrounded by all of the scents of the pack, to have Minho pressed against her back and Jeongin against her front. She feels loved and cared for, and it makes her cum again; somehow, she shakes through it. 

Minho pets her back, and she thinks Jeongin is stroking her head. Y/N feels satiated and scent drunk and so pleased beyond words. Her face is stuffed into Jeongin's throat still, breathing him in, warm bread so delicious she could eat him. Her belly growls softly, and both of them giggle a little. 

Then she feels Minho again, against her bum, and she whines when he takes it away. 

"Want --" she struggles out, reaching blindly for him, "Min--Minnie, I want -- in my mouth." 

Minho leans in and kisses her spine, "Lovely little omega, you just want to take care of everyone, don't you? Won't be satisfied until everyone's satisfied." 

She warbles a sound, but Minho crawls on his knees up to her head. When Y/N turns her head, her eyes light up at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking, already pulled from his pants. "You'll have to share with Innie-ah, my aegi." 

"Yes," she nods like it was obvious, "Yes, oh, yes, I will." 

Jeongin, who usually protests anything and everything (for the love of the game, Y/N thinks, because he always ends up doing it anyway -- he was a brat comparable to Seungmin almost, he just somehow avoids the title), merely opens his mouth the same way she does. Tongues outstretched and wet, Minho slides his hard, drippy cock right between them. Neither is very passive, though he does shallowly roll his hips. Y/N is licking wet kisses against the shaft, going toward the head, and Jeongin finds his balls and sucks them into his mouth. They're coating him in spit and moaning like they're the ones getting licked. Minho tastes too good -- he always tastes so good. When he lets her cock warm him, that's all she can think about, is how good he tastes (if she can think at all, that is). 

It doesn't take him long to cum. He pets both of their heads and murmurs something about how sweet she is, and how sweet Jeongin can be "once an omega has softened him up around his knot". They had taken turns on what end they'd been licking and sucking, so Y/N had been pressing her nose deep against his balls and inhaling the sweet scent of Minho. But since it's her heat, he grips the hair at the back of her head and guides her back to the tip, "You can have it, yeah? You hungry?" He says, voice tight, before he pops the head back into her mouth and starts emptying on her tongue. There's a lot of it, filling up her mouth, and Y/N wants to swallow it greedily because she's feeling greedy. 

But when she opens her eyes, she sees Jeongin's gaze, and Y/N feels like it was just as wanting as she felt. And, even though it's her treat for being in heat, she is nothing if not magnanimous, so she leans in and presses her mouth to Jeongin's. She pushes some of the cum into his mouth to share, and he moans against her, startled, his hips jerking into her and only reinforcing how locked they are together. Y/N swallows what was left in her mouth, then tilts up to look at Minho, parts her lips, and lets him see that there's nothing left. 

Minho curses under his breath, cradles her face, and strokes her face with the pad of his thumb, "God, you're so good," he murmurs, "I'm keeping you." 

Her eyes flutter, nuzzling into his palm. She'd be okay with being kept. Like a little pet, she'd let them keep her. They could chain her up in the nesting room and just come use her when they wanted. Keep her fed and bathed, they'd pet her and keep her full, and she could bark or meow or whatever they want. Y/N would like that so much. How does she ask them for that? 

She isn't sure how long they were stuck together. All she knew was that Jeongin was scenting her thoroughly, his hands moving up and down her body, squeezing and pinching and pulling at her. Minho giggled while watching them, murmured things about his sweet kittens, how cute it was seeing them like this, saying how he'd wished he'd had a picture of this so he could remember it. 

When the knot finally loosens, Jeongin pours out of her. Minho's fingers trail through it, and she can hear him lick them sloppily, the taste of them mixed together. Jeongin makes a rumbling growl in his chest, and Minho clicks his tongue, "Ah aht." There's a slapping sound behind her -- he must get Jeongin's thigh with the flat of his palm, "Don't you growl at me, baby alpha. I'll let you have some." Jeongin whines when he uses both hands now, gets more of his cum on his fingers before offering some to Jeongin and some to Y/N. 

"Okay," he murmurs, "Y/N, we need to get you in the bath." Y/N knows better than to grumble and growl after hearing Jeongin get scolded, but that didn't stop her from pouting. Especially when Minho carefully pries her off of Jeongin's body, shushing her when she does whine a little bit. "I know, kitty, we'll get you back in the nest and scent you real well." 

The door opens after a perfunctory knock, and Y/N lazily lulls her head to find Jisung pressing his face through the crack, "Jagi," he whines, "You started without me." 

"Would you want to wait during your heat? Actually, I think you'd tear us up if we tried to make you." He helps Y/N stand on trembling legs, more of Jeongin's cum slipping out of her, making the insides of her thigh all sticky -- and probably Felix and Hyunjin's too. Jisung makes an affronted noise in his throat but still takes a step inside, "Come help me with her bath. Then we can scent her again. Jeonginnie, call Bin, and he'll help you change out the nest." 

Jeongin grunts from his spot, his eyes closed. 

"Is it okay if Jisung helps wash you up?" Minho asks, "Or do you just want it to be me?" 

It takes her a second to sift through her thoughts, but she decides she doesn't mind, "That's okay," she tells him as he guides her the rest of the way. 

He kicks the toilet seat up and plops her down on it, "Go ahead and pee, your first pack heat can't lead to a UTI. We've got appearances to uphold." 

"So weird," Jisung murmured to himself, but he was leaning over the tub to get the water started.

They fill it up with bubbles and oils, the water steaming before she steps inside of it. The tub is quite big, and the water sloshes around as she sinks into it, letting the heat of it soak deep into her muscles. Minho hikes his shorts up a little further than they were, stepping inside with her but sitting on the edge and grabbing for a new loofa. He rips the tag off, dunks it in the water, "I'm going to clean you up, kitty, okay? But if it's too much, tell me. Jisung is going to tell us about his day and grab stuff for me as I need it." 

It's nice, actually. Typically, during her heat, Y/N has to just stay and wallow in her own stink and filth. She tried her best to wash up when she could, but it was difficult when she could barely stand. But Minho is carefully scrubbing her, which is good -- she knows she'll feel better once she has. Part of her still aches at the fact that she's losing a day's worth of scenting. He's careful around her glands, but for some reason, it doesn't help as much as it probably should. Unlike the pack members who, no matter how many times they scrub, would have the scent of their pack mates interwoven in every single skin cell -- Y/N doesn't have that. She was just an intruder, really, mooching off their kindness. Using up their resources, taking up space, making it difficult for them to continue their day-to-day life without having to take care of her. 

She goes from content to all around achy very quickly. Her scent must give her away, because Minho stops mid-scoop of water to pour over her sudsy body. Jisung notices too, frowning, "What's wrong? Is the water not good?" 

Y/N shakes her head, "Sorry," is all she says, "I'm sorry. I'm -- this is a lot of work. . .for me, and I'm not. . .I'm not even a part of your --" 

"Enough," Minho cuts her off before she could say anymore, then takes his wrist and rubs it against the side of her neck. He reaches for Jisung's hand as well, stretching him across the tub and ignoring his little, startled yelp as he strokes it against her throat, "Don't say such silly things. Cleaning you rubbed off our scent, so it's making you think stupid thoughts." She melts almost instantaneously -- Minho is really good at this. She guesses you'd have to be good at this when you've got 3 other omegas and yourself to manage. Y/N shivers, then leans back between Minho's legs. She gets his clothes all soaked, but he doesn't seem to care, instead handing the loofa to Jisung to finish her front. "We'll get you all scented up as soon as we're done, okay?" 

Y/N's head is tilted back to look up at him. When she nods, he smiles, then slides his hands down her shoulders. He keeps talking casually, as he strokes her, "Bin's going to want to jump you as soon as you get out," he explains, "But you need to eat a little, hydrate, and rest. He'll probably stay by to cuddle, though. Jisung will too." 

"Yes," he smiles dopily at her as he scrubs her calves, "I've been thinking about it all day. Can't believe I had to work while Jinnie and Felix got you all to themselves! So unfair," he pouts his mouth, and Y/N giggles softly, a little amused huff, "They're both passed out on the couch right now -- you really wore them out, hm?" 

That feels so far away, being snuggled between them. Had that really been today? She feels like it must have been yesterday or something, but she knows her frame of time is all screwed up. When Jisung brushes past her hand in the water, Y/N catches him and laces their fingers together. He giggles, pulling their wet hands out of the water together to show off, "You want to hold hands? We can hold hands all night." 

"Channie comes home soon," Minho mentions softly, the pad of his thumbs digging into her nape, "He's going to pretend he's being chill, but he probably wants this more than he even realizes. Just because he's the pack alpha, though, doesn't mean you have to do anything with him if you're tired, okay, kitty? That goes for everyone, but I think your heat brain is convinced that Chan's a different type of pack alpha than he is. He's patient, and he's kind, and he's very, very nervous because he hasn't dealt with an unmated omega in a very long time, so all of this is on your terms, okay?" He grabs her chin and tilts her up to look at him again, so they can lock eyes, "Just wanted to remind you." 

"Yes," she agrees, "Okay." 

Once she's out of the tub, she brushes her teeth, but that's all the strength that she's able to muster. Y/N is led back to the bed where the bottom pads and sheets had been changed to dry ones, but the nest itself seems relatively untouched. Changbin, whom Y/N had not seen all day, is waiting patiently with one arm behind his head and his hand holding his phone. He's lying off to the side of the mattress because he doesn't have permission yet, and it makes her bristle. What good alphas they have in this pack. 

Y/N crawls into the nest, "Hi," she greets him, before nuzzling her face into the pillows beside her head, "Thank you." 

Changbin smiles, "Of course," he says, "You smell good. Did the terrible twosome clean you up well?" 

Y/N hums, and it takes her a second, but she does eventually reply, "Yes," before rolling over to her back. The shirt she wears -- she's unsure who the owner is. It smells like all of them a little bit, maybe leaning more toward Hyunjin. It rucks up around her thighs. "Come in, please." 

Changbin doesn't have to be told twice. He clambers in, and Y/N is almost immediately engulfed in big arms that tug her close. He doesn't make any move to touch her, but he does nuzzle the top of her head, "Ahh, I've been wanting to do this all day!" 

Jisung makes an affronted noise, and Y/N huffs again, another amused sound before peeking her eyes out from beneath Changbin's arms, "You too, please." 

Minho swats his ass before he all but dives in, and he's lacing his arms around her waist, hugging and holding her there. Before he leaves, Minho tilts his head toward the door, "I'll send Seungmin in here too. I can smell him lingering." He pointed at both of them, "Let her rest a little. I'm going to warm up some soup -- make her drink water. No bickering over her head." 

"I have no problem not bickering so long as he doesn't open his mouth," Jisung mumbled into Y/N's belly, the words muffled and vibrating. 

Changbin scoffs, "You can't go 5 minutes without picking a fight. It's okay, me and Y/N will just kick you out of the nest." 

"What makes you think she'd take your side?" 

"I'll kick you both out of the nest." Minho cut them off as he headed toward the door, "I'll be back." 

Y/N closed her eyes and breathed in deep. 

Having a pack is nice, even if it isn't her own. 

. . .

Jisung

For the record, changbin keeps putting his foot in my face and I am being VERY BRAVE and PATIENT not yelling at him so that y/n can sleep

Changbin

🦶🏻

Jeongin

Not right now

I'm trying to recoup

Jisung

everyone tell me how good I am for not letting him kick me out of the nest with his childish antics

Changbin

he woke y/n up to make her say she was on his side btw

Jisung

NO I DID NOT !!!

SHE WAS ALREADY AWAKE

MINHO SHE WAS ALREADY AWAKE

NEVER MIND the nest he's trying to get me kicked out of the HOUSE 

Chan

How is she doing? Is she okay?

I'll be home soon. I just have a few more things to get done

Does anyone need anything at the store? 

Also, if you're in the nest with her, where are Jinnie and Lix? 

Jeongin

Hyung. . .

pudding please 

Minho won't share 

Changbin

I'll tell u everyone's whereabouts I know you want to know

Jin and Bbokki are passed out on the couch 

Jeongin is in his room but i can tell he wants to come back

Minho warmed her up some soup and is now taking a shower 

Seungmin is also in the nest being suspiciously well behaved, but I think it's because he was pacing outside the door so now he's happier.

Jisung is at the bottom of the nest, right in the way of my feet 

he called y/n slick NyQuil btw 

Jisung

snitch

im not saying it tastes like nyquil!!! it has NyQuil-like properties 

I can hear Hyunjin and Yongbokkie snoring from in here 

and jeongin's fighting sleep so he doesn't ruin his schedule for tonight but when Minho checked on him he was falling asleep with his phone in his hand

Changbin

And Y/N is safe in my arms 🫶🏻💪🏻

Chan

lol good, I'm glad to hear it

I'll be home soon

Love you 

Taglist: @pineapple-burgah @ahseyy @hunter-or-the-hunted @juicebrruuuhhhh @kaitioo @asp3ntr33 @33peach33 @ogerontheside4 @mamimaminya @xxeiraxx @rileylovescats @sylus-made-me-delulu @bahngarang @simpqueen2025 @enbysharkie @jiminssluttyminx @maddy24207 @love--in-stayville @hwangrfrnd @maxineswritingcorner @mysticetti @massivelyfullenthusiast @imnotsop @selfproclaimedpabo @skywalker-spengler @shinwonderful @blue-boy-67 @kibs-and-bits @compersian @j4mergy @sturnsxbitvh @katbrock85-blog @rainierii @simplyhell @dinglebam @tashiagalinda @bekindtourself @cgriffin17 @kaleigh-2002 @kloversung @galamxy @barbie-girl84 @4ng3l-ch1ld @rougegenshin @persassyismysecrettwin @gyuzies @tamarasblogs @luvsicklino @smuttaburger @mandmilovehim

[bekindtourself]

i’ve said it before, and i’ll gladly say it again! i love this series so so much!!!!!

i absolutely loved the insight into her background with felix and the whole pack, and i loved hearing her thought processes. the way she can’t tell that they’re all down so bad for her, girl.

i absolutely love the dynamic between minho and the reader, especially because she thought he didn’t like her initially and now he’s the one that has been able to take care of her in any and every way that she’s needed - i love it so much!