[ctrlhope]

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[jung-koook]

his big boba eyes 🥺

[jung-koook]

never getting over this look on him 😩 (cr.)

[minchns]

family photo 🛒🌱

[jung-koook]

JUNGKOOK — AMAs 2026

[straykeedz]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ; 𝐬𝐜𝐛

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐳 ; 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; swearing; explicit mature content as in: oral sex & fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (DON’T!!!), creampie; changbin calls reader princess during sexy time ; size kink i guess (reader is obsessed with changbin’s body, who can blame her???); thigh riding is mentioned; showering together; ♡

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🔖: @killzbabiexs ; ♡

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⚡︎

Changbin is tired. 

He is tired of seeing you coming back after another unsuccessful date and sulk on your couch as if your life depends on some dude you met online. Or worse - seeing you hung up on some loser who ghosted you out of the blue. It drives him crazy. Plus, you only seem to find total jerks on that stupid app. Every time you show him a picture of a guy you’re talking to - Changbin has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at you and scoff. They’re all so… boring, and they look like total jerks - he’s convinced you deserve better.

Someone who would be by your side through thick and thin, somebody who would watch those sappy movies with you on the couch and who’d playfully make fun of your for crying when the characters finally together only to pull you close for a hug and smother you with kisses all over your pretty face. Someone like me, Changbin often thinks, but doesn’t dare to voice his thoughts - too scared to ruin things between you. 

Tonight, you come home earlier than he expected you to, and he immediately knows something must have gone wrong. It is only twenty past ten, so there’s no way your date has actually gone well, considering the guy’d picked you up only two hours before. 

You close the door with a loud thud, then remove your shoes without bothering to untie the laces. Changbin’s body jolts up and he quickly snaps his head in your direction at the sudden noise. He was sprawled on the couch, watching an episode of the series he’d recently started, and he was definitely not expecting you to come home so soon - otherwise he would’ve put on some decent clothes instead of lying there in just his blue sweats. 

“Why are you naked?”, you frown as you remove your jeans jacket and hang it on the wall together with your purse. 

Honestly - Changbin is shirtless a lot in your shared apartment, just never around you. At least, not intentionally. He’d usually go around like that whenever he is done with his workout session and right about to hop in the shower. Despite being your friend for years - Changbin still feels embarrassed to go around like that when you are in the apartment as well. 

“Yah! I’m not naked!” Changbin protests, immediately turning away so that you are now facing his bare back and can’t see the way his cheeks are slowly heating up. Poor boy’s embarrassed. He immediately picks up his t-shirt and puts it back on, then turned to face you once again, hoping you won't notice how flustered he is. “Besides, why are you here so early?”

You sigh, and he immediately understands. So he sits up on the couch, pauses the tv show and pats the cushion, inviting you to sit next to him. Once you sit down, you immediately lean you head on his shoulder, and he puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”, he tests the waters. 

You shake your head as a no. “Not really.”, you murmur. “I’m just disappointed, I guess. Thought the date was going fine.”, you let out a heavy sigh. 

Changbin remains silent, not really knowing what to say that could make you feel better. He’s well aware that your hopes on that date were high, and it really crushes him to see you so disappointed and hurt over some jerk. 

“Maybe it’s just me.”, you blurt out. 

Changbin is confused. “What do you mean?”, he asks. 

You lift your head from his shoulder and gently pull away, letting his arm fall back on the couch. “Maybe I am the problem.”, you clarify. “There must be something wrong with me.”

Changbin is now staring at you with wide eyes and his mouth agape. He must’ve misheard you, there’s no other plausible explanation. There’s no way you actually said that. And he can’t help but wonder why would you only go out with jerks who make you think you’re not good enough for them. 

“Yah, stop that right now.” Changbin scolds you and you frown. “Don’t ever think you’re the problem when that jerk dropped you off without even giving you a proper explanation.”

“But-“

“No buts. You’re beautiful and you’re funny and you’re smart and I’m sure he was the problem.” Changbin insists. 

“How are you so sure?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him. 

Your friend looks at you through his thick glasses as if you just asked him the most stupid question ever. 

“Because you’re my friend? Duh.” Changbin shrugs. 

Friend. That word brings you back to reality. That’s what you are to him, his friend. Sure, he’s your friend too, but recently you’ve started seeing him as something more than a friend and roommate - you’ve fallen for him. 

That’s why you’d desperately tried to date during the past few weeks - to try to get over your stupid crush, because you most definitely couldn’t risk fucking your friendship with Changbin up. He’s been a part of your life for years now, and you wouldn’t wanna lose him due to a silly crush. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s just your stupid brain playing tricks on you and letting you believe you could actually be with him - for real. 

“That’s not an explanation, tho.”, you remind him. “Maybe it is me. Maybe I’m too stiff or awkward or… I don’t know, there must be a reason why they don’t call me back.”

Truth be told - you know. You know the reason why your dates always end the same way - because you keep comparing them to him. To Changbin. But in the end - nobody compares to him.

Changbin gets closer to you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You mentally scold yourself when you feel your stomach jump at the sudden proximity. Yeah, you should really get over your silly crush, it’s starting to become ridiculous. 

For a moment, you let yourself believe he’s about to kiss you on your forehead like he always does when he’s trying to cheer you up, so you close your eyes in anticipation, like it happens in those romantic movies. What if he kissed you on the lips instead? How would his lips feel against yours?

But you don’t get to feel that, and you don’t get to feel his lips on your forehead either, because Changbin unexpectedly flicks you. Right on your forehead, making you wince in pain. 

“Ow!”, you open your eyes only to find him laughing like an idiot. You glare at him, then hit him with a pillow. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?”, you whine, rubbing the spot where he just flicked you. 

He eventually stops laughing, but he’s still grinning. You roll your eyes at him. 

“Because you have to stop overthinking things.”, he says. 

As if it were simple, you want to say. If you could stop overthinking things, your life would be much easier. Changbin is probably the most laid back person you know, and he rarely worries too much about things. He rarely even opens up about his life, mostly because he doesn’t let the things than happen to him negatively affect his life or his thinking. You wish you could be like him. 

“I know.”, you sigh, leaning back on the soft cushion. “I can’t help it. It’s just been so long since I’ve last had a proper date, you know? Maybe I’m just too rusty and I forgot how to flirt or something. Maybe there’s just something I do wrong.”, you point out.

Changbin looks like he has something on his mind. You know that face, where his eyes are slightly closed and he’s looking at you through his glasses while biting his cheek. Yeah, he’s definitely onto something. 

“I’ll take you on a date.”

You freeze in your spot, looking at him with wide eyes. What? Are you imagining things or has he just asked you out on a date? Oh, this is not good for your get-over-your-stupid-crush plan. 

“What?”, is all you manage to get out. 

“I’ll take you on a date.” Changbin repeats as if the most normal thing in the world, and you can now feel your heart hammering in your chest. “If you’re that worried there’s something wrong with you, I can help you with that. We’ll go on a date and we’ll have fun and that’ll show you there’s nothing wrong with you or your flirting skills.”, he explains his evil plan.

Oh. 

A little voice inside your head is telling you to decline his offer because this is dangerous territory. You’re already crushing on the guy, how is going on a date with him - even if it’s not a real one - make the situation any better? But of course Changbin doesn’t even suspect a thing, and being the sweet and caring friend he is, he just wants to genuinely help you. 

What he doesn’t know, tho, is that it’ll probably only make things worse for you. 

“You don’t have to do that.”, you quickly say. “You don’t have to take me out just because my love life is miserable.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Changbin clears his throat and quickly adds “I mean, I want to help you. You know, boost your confidence and stuff.”

How are you supposed to decline his offer now? If you think about it - it’s just a date. Nothing has to happen. He’s Changbin, you’ve known him for years, what could possibly go wrong?

“Fine.”, you eventually give in. 

Changbin looks at you surprised, as if he was expecting you to turn down his offer. He looks taken aback, but a smile spreads on his face nonetheless. “Okay then, I’m taking you out tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit too soon? You still need time to figure all of this out! Maybe it’s like ripping off a bandaid, the quicker the better. You’ll go out with your best friend Changbin like you’ve done plenty of times before - except this time it’s a date.  

“Okay.”

“Good.” Changbin smiles at you. “We’re going on a date.”, he repeats, then gets up from the couch.

“Where are you going?”, you ask confused. 

“To bed. Have to get up early tomorrow.” Changbin explains. “Goodnight, y/n.”, he then place the long yearned kiss on your forehead. “Sleep tight.”

⚡︎

You forget about the whole date-with-Changbin thing. 

Well, it’s not like you forget about it - you just don’t take it too seriously. Changbin often jokes and stuff, so you brush his offer off as one of his jokes and just don’t think about it for the whole day. Plus, when he left earlier in the morning, he didn’t mention anything about tonight, so you just assumed he wasn’t serious about it. You don’t know whether you should feel relieved or not. 

You just forget about the whole thing - that is, until you exit your room to go refill your water bottle and spot Changbin in your shared bathroom getting ready in front of the mirror. He’s wearing a white shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows, and tight black pants. You stare a little too long, and he eventually acknowledges your presence outside the bathroom. 

“Yah!”, he raises his voice, snapping his head in your direction as he takes in your figure. “You’re not ready? Aish…”

You look at him with wide eyes. You’re not ready. In fact, you’re far from ready. Your hair is messily styled into a ponytail and you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt and some shorts.

“I- I thought you were joking.”, you stutter. 

“You better start getting ready, then. We’re leaving in less than one hour.” Changbin informs you as he sprays his cologne on his wrists and neck. “And you better start thinking of this as a real date!”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him as you go back in your room and open every single drawer in your closet, desperately looking for something decent to wear, but none of your clothes seem to be appropriate. Boring, old, boring and old, too slutty, too ugly. Yeah, you really need to declutter some of your clothes and buy new ones. 

You eventually opt for a pair of black pants and a white, long sleeved top. Casual is how you’d define your outfit. Not too elegant, not too shabby. When it comes to the choice of your underwear, Changbin’s words resonate in your head. 

You better start thinking of this as a real date, he said.

Now, if you were to go on a real date, you’d go for matching bra and panties, hoping to end your night with something more than a goodbye kiss. But then again, you’re going out with Changbin tonight, and it’s not like he’s going to see your underwear -  because deep down both of you know it’s not a real date. But since he isn’t going to see your underwear - there’s no harm in actually matching it, is there? He’s never gonna know anyways, and it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, it’s just underwear. 

You return to the bathroom with your clothes in your hands, neatly folded. Changbin’s still staring at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is - white shirt slightly unbuttoned, tight pants wrapped around his muscular thighs, the sight is enough to make you drool. 

“I have to shower.”, you announce, clearing your throat. You only have one hour to get ready, and you still have to do your hair and makeup. 

“Oh, right. Sure.” Changbin mutters, before proceeding to leave the bathroom. 

As he does so, he involuntarily takes a glimpse of your underwear - which you’d put right on top of your clothes -, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches as he feels himself getting red in the face. Without uttering another word, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. 

⚡︎

Changbin is a true gentleman - you find out. 

He waited for you by his car, complimented your outfit as soon as he saw you, greeted you with a kiss on the cheek even though there was no need to since you technically live together, then opened the car door for you and closed it after he made sure you were comfortably seated in his car. 

So far, you can say you’re genuinely impressed. The last guy you went out with hadn’t even bothered to turn the engine of his car off and just honked a couple times to let you know he’d arrived. 

“Where are you taking me, my knight?”, you joke, and Changbin rolls his eyes at you as he fastens his seatbelt. 

“Yah, stop making fun of this!”, he whines. “You’re not taking this seriously!”

You can’t help but giggle at his pouting, and it only annoys Changbin even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No more teasing, got it.”, you promise. “Now, where are you taking me?”

Changbin doesn’t answer you - he turns on the engine of his car instead. You only discover your destination when he parks his car about fifteen minutes later. Meanwhile, he let you put the music directly from your playlist - which is something he never does because, quote “My taste in music is better than yours anyways.” It must be your Passenger Princess - as Changbin called you - privilege, you guess. 

For your date he brought you to eat ramyeon, and he didn’t choose a random place for that. You’re genuinely surprised he remembered. A couple of weeks ago you told him you were craving ramyeon so bad. You had asked him if he remember that specific restaurant where you’d eaten one time, claiming that they made the best spicy ramyeon there.

Of course Changbin remembered that day - it was the first time he thought of you as something more than a friend. You were supposed to go out with your friends too, but they’d all bailed on you last minute - so you and Changbin found yourselves alone in the crowded restaurant. Even though you were alone even back then - it feels different now. Right now, you’re on a date. 

“You remembered!”, you look at him with your mouth agape as soon as you spot the neon sign of the restaurant. 

Changbin parks the car and unfastens his seatbelt. He looks at you surprised. “Yah! Of course I remembered! Unlike you, I actually pay attention when somebody’s talking to me.”, he teases.

You roll your eyes at him and playfully push him. You’re about to open your car door, when Changbin lets out a loud “Yah!”, and you immediately halt your movements and look at him confused. 

“I’m supposed to open it for you.”, he explains. 

You can’t help but giggle. “Changbin, there’s no need to, I can do it myself.”

“No, no, no.”, he shakes his head dramatically. “You’re the Passenger Princess, remember?”

You can’t help but blush a little as soon as you hear those words, but it’s dark outside, so you hope he won’t notice. He swiftly gets out of the car, and opens the car door by your side in record time. For a moment, you wonder how cool would it be if you and Changbin were actually together - a couple - and went on dates on a regular basis. 

Yeah, you have a feeling you could get used to the feeling. 

“Take my hand.”, Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality. 

Changbin is standing in front of you, handsome as ever, with the sleeves of his white shirt - your favorite - rolled up his sleeves, his hand outstretched, waiting for you to place your hand on top of his. As you do so - you feel a shiver run down your spine, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your body tenses up when he squeezes your hand in his. 

Changbin seems to be skilled in the dating department. He opens the door of the restaurant for you, helps you take off your jacket and asks you what you want to eat - even though he knows well your favorite ramyeon is definitely the buldak one. He even orders a carton of milk in case it’s too spicy. 

Thoughtful and caring - that’s what Changbin is, and that seems to mess with your plan of getting over him. Now that you’re getting a taste of what dating him would be like, you find yourself craving for more. You want more dates and more car rides and more Passenger Princess privileges and more and more and more. 

Maybe this whole fake-real-date thing was a bad idea from the start, and you shouldn’t have listened to Changbin’s words - because there’s no way today’s date is actually going to help you. In fact, you fear it’s going to set the bar a little too high for your future dates. 

“So…”, he starts, grabbing his chopsticks from the table and putting the napkin on his knees to avoid staining his pants just in case. “Tell me about you.”

You look at him dumbfounded - chopsticks in your hand as you’re about to take a mouthful of ramyeon. “What?”, you ask. 

Changbin takes his time to savor and swallow his ramyeon. Then, he clarifies. “Tell me about you. What do you do for a living, what are your hobbies… Stuff like this, you know?”

You’re confused. “Changbin…”, you clear your throat that’s currently burning due to the extremely spicy sauce. “We live together. You know what I do for a living.”

He sighs. “It’s a date, y/n, I’m supposed to ask you these questions!”, he groans. 

“But it’s not a real date! And you already know these things!”, you protest. 

He glares at you as he brings his chopsticks back to his mouth and continues eating his ramyeon. 

“Fine.”, you sigh, twisting the noodles in your plate with your chopsticks. “I’m a full-time kindergarten teacher, I work at a private school not far from Seoul.”, you start. “Hobbies, mh?”, you pause for a second. “Definitely painting. I love painting, I find it relaxing.”

Changbin smiles, pleased that you decided not to be a buzzkill and finally answer his questions.

“Kindergarten, huh?” Changbin rhetorically asks as he takes his time to refill both yours and his glasses with fresh water. “You must love kids, then.”

You nod. “I do. They’re so cute and full of surprises, you know? Every day I discover a new thing about them.”, you say with a smile on your face. 

Changbin knows you love your job - of course he does. It makes him happy to hear you talk about how much you love your job and to see you happy nonetheless. 

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful teacher, and I’m sure those kids love you.”, he says, a shy smile on his face. “So,” he clears his throat. “Painting! You have to let me see one of your masterpieces one day, then. Maybe I could be your muse, you could paint me.”, he smirks. 

Is he… flirting?

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call them masterpieces, but sure - I’d be happy to show you.”, you look at him through your eyelashes, kind of intrigued by the conversation you’re having. “I don’t live by myself, though, so I have to make sure my friend won’t be around, you know?”, you wink.

“Oh, you live with a friend?”, he plays along and even pretends to be surprised. 

“Mh-hm”, you hum in agreement. “He’s a pain in the ass.”, you chuckle. 

“Yah!” Changbin exclaims, before he realizes he’s fallen right in your trap. He clears his throat, “I mean - I’m sure he’s not that bad, is he?”

Maybe you should tease him a little, just for fun. 

“He always leaves his things around the apartment. And he never does the dishes. Sometimes he even eats my food.”

“Your f-“, he clears his throat once again. “Yah, he sounds quite annoying. But I’m sure he’s funny and cute.”, he says confidently. 

“Mh, not really.”, you let out a loud laugh at his shocked expression, covering your mouth with one hand. “Nah, I’m kidding, he’s a cool guy. It’s real fun living with him, I really like having him around.”, you admit, blushing a little. 

You don’t notice it - but Changbin blushes too. 

“Now tell me about you, Changbin.”, you tease him by asking him the same thing he’d asked you. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a chiropractic.”, he promptly says. “But I also work as a part-time personal trainer  on Tuesdays and Fridays.”, he adds. “Whenever I got some free time I just workout. I usually do it at home, though.”

You know Changbin works out - of course you do. He usually does it in his own room, he just puts on some music and doesn’t exit his bedroom for at least an hour, all sweaty and ready to get rid of his sticky clothes and hop in the shower. You know he does it, but you’ve never seen him at work, and you’d be lying if you said it wouldn’t intrigue you to see him all sweaty and out of breath and -. 

Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re in the middle of a dinner date and you’re fantasizing about a man when said man is right before you. Said man is also your friend and roommate, by the way. 

“I would have bet on it.”, you squeeze his arm that’s currently resting on top of your table. “There’s no way a man could be so fit and not be a personal trainer.”, you say, a bit flirty. “Maybe you could show me a couple of exercises I could do…”, you bat your eyelashes at him, flirting back. Two can play this game, right?

Changbin is shook and doesn’t know how to react. First, there’s your hand squeezing his forearm. Then, there’s you flirting with him. 

“I- uh…”, he clears his throat. “Sure, I can teach you some… stuff. Not that you need to workout, anyways. You look beautiful the way you are.”, he flirts back.

“Thank you.”, you wink at him. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself.”

The rest of your dinner proceeds like this - Changbin flirting with you and you flirting back. You’re enjoying the little attention he gives you, but wonder whether you made a wise choice, agreeing to this absurd idea your Changbin came up with. However, this might be the only chance you get to have him this close and to receive this kind of attention from him, so you don’t worry about it too much. You plan on enjoying the lingering touches, the shy smiles and the flirting as much as possible, because you know that once the date is over you won’t get to experience any of that again.

“This is fun.”, you casually comment.

“What’s fun?”

“This - the date.”, you clarify. 

“I’m having fun too.” Changbin chuckles as he runs one hand through his dark hair. “I told you the problem’s not you.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat - he’s so handsome. One of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, if you have to be honest. And it’s not just the looks - his physical appearance is just a bonus. He’s got the whole package also personality wise. He’s fun and kind and a true gentleman - he’s a good friend and listens to you, he’s honest when it comes to giving advice, he’s just perfect. It’s going to be so hard to go back to dating ordinary men after having had a taste of what dating Changbin would be like, you can’t help but think. 

“It’s just easy with you because I’m comfortable around you.”, you honestly say. 

He looks slightly taken aback by your confession. “Were you not comfortable around those guys?”, he asks. You shake your head as a no. “Oh. Then you shouldn’t go out with guys who make you uncomfortable.”

You should go out with me. For real., a voice inside Changbin’s head screams.

⚡︎

On your way back home, you scolded Changbin for paying the restaurant check, claiming that he didn’t have to, claiming that “It’s not a real date, you don’t have to pay.”. “I want to.”, he’d answered, before pulling out his credit card from his wallet. You eventually agreed to that under one condition: “Next time, dinner’s on me.”, you’d said. Only now you do realize what those four words imply: another date. 

And you’ll probably never know - but that’s why Changbin was smiling like an idiot on your way back to the car and during the whole ride home. 

Changbin stops his car and turns the engine off. “We’re here.”, he announces. 

“Is this how you usually end a date?”, you tease him. 

“No, I usually walk the girl to the door.” Changbin says, then he grins at you. “Are you finally admitting this is a real date?”, he teases back, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You playfully push him and roll your eyes at him pretending to be angry when you’re really not. You’re far from angry - in fact, you’re so happy you don’t want tonight to end, but you can’t tell Changbin that. “Yah! As if…”, you scoff. “I was just thinking - since you asked me to think of this as a real date - that we better do this right.”

You do have a point, Changbin realizes.

“Right.”, he agrees. “I’ll walk you to the door then.”

Like the true gentleman he is - Changbin opens the car door for you once again, for the fourth time tonight, ignoring your protests. Sometimes you seem to forget how stubborn he is. 

When he walks you to the door - you both stare at each other awkwardly. What are you supposed to do now? This is the part of a date where a couple usually shares their first kiss or voices their desire to meet again, but you and Changbin are not a couple, and this isn’t a date. Even though you liked to pretend it was all real - both of you know it wasn’t. 

You can’t help but think Changbin looks handsome right now, standing in front of you with his hands in his pocket and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his arms, showing his forearms. You feel like a creep when you think about it - but you really got a thing for Changbin’s arms. They’re so muscular and buff and thick and you just can’t stop staring at him whenever he doesn’t notice. 

“Right, uhm…” Changbin hums, unsure what he’s supposed to do now. 

In the end, he decides to go for the safest option, so he cups your face with his big hands and leans in. For a moment there, you think he’s going to really kiss you - place his plump lips on top of yours and give you a breathtaking kiss, so you close your eyes in anticipation. Instead, he places his soft lips on your forehead, and he lingers. 

Your heart is hammering hard in your chest - even though it’s not the kiss you were secretly hoping to receive, it still feels amazing and different from all the previous times he’d kissed you on the forehead before. This time it feels more intimate, so you find the courage to wrap your arms around his buff figure, hands now resting on his broad shoulders while his hands are still cupping your face and his lips are still pressed against your skin. 

It feels so intimate and so magical, and you can’t think of anything else besides - “I love you.”

You feel Changbin’s body freeze under your touch as soon as he registers your words, and you can’t believe you just said that out loud. Like, for real. You just told Changbin you love him. Changbin. Your friend and roommate Changbin. The guy you’re currently on a fake-real-date with. You just told him you love him. This could either ruin what you have forever or potentially turn into the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

So, you take a deep breath. You’re really doing this.

“I’m in love with you, Changbin.”, you clarify - you want to make sure he doesn’t misunderstand your words and think you love him just as a friend. “Have been for a while now. I didn’t want to ruin what we have - I didn’t want to risk losing you.”, your voice trembles. “But tonight - I guess this whole fake date thing messed with my head more than it should’ve. So yeah - I love you.”

It’s a shitty confession, you’re aware of that. To be honest - you weren’t even planning on confessing to Changbin, like, ever, so you’re surprised you even found the courage to try to put your thoughts into words. 

He doesn’t react at first, still frozen in his spot with his hands on your face, and you mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming rejection. When you hear him inhale deeply through his nostrils and pull away from you, you squeeze your eyes shut - a scarce attempt to get ready for the words you’re sure you’re about to hear.  

“Y/n.”, he says instead, voice calm, tho a bit quivery. “Yah, open your eyes.” You really don’t want to, but you do it anyways. You decided to pour your heart to him - which means that now you have to be mature about it and find in yourself the courage to face him. You open your eyes and snap your head up to meet his without uttering a single word - you’ve said too much already. “Is it true?” Changbin’s words come out in a whisper. 

You just nod slowly, not breaking the eye contact, and you don’t miss the way his breath gets caught in his throat. 

“You’re really in love with me? You’re not- You’re not messing with me, are you?”, he rambles and desperately tries to swallow the lump in his throat as his brain processes what’s happening. 

“I’m not messing with you.”

He leans forward and presses his forehead against yours - his hair tickles your skin, and your heart starts beating faster in your chest. “Can I kiss you?”, he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“Yes.”

You feel your legs buckle when he finally presses his lips against yours. His lips feel as heavenly as you imagined, and you can’t believe you’re finally kissing him. It’s chaste and innocent at first, but when you pull him closer, he takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss. Then you feel his tongue gently brush against your lower lip and you feel like your legs are about to give in for good. As you kiss, he moves his hands from your face to your waist, not pulling away as you practically make out on your porch. 

It’s you who breaks the kiss first, resting your forehead against his as you try to regain your breath - still a bit dazed from the mind-blowing kiss. His hands are still on your waist, fingers gently squeezing you as you’re trying to find the courage to ask him the next question. “Do you… want to come in?”, you whisper on his lips. 

He chuckles, “Of course I do, do you want me to sleep in the car?”

You realize he clearly didn’t understand what you were implying. You clear your throat, embarrassed - cheeks turning red. “No, I mean - do you want to come in?”, you repeat, hoping this time he’d get the message. 

He does, because his breath hitches as he freezes once again. He pulls away gently and finds you staring at him with big, doe eyes. He’s looking for any signs of uncertainty in your eyes, but can’t find any - you’re sure about it, you want him. And of course he wants you, too, how could he not? He’s crazy about you, has been for years but has always been too much of a coward to confess his feelings to you. 

“Are you sure?”, he asks you, and you nod vigorously, then peck his lips once more. 

⚡︎

Changbin is nervous. 

He’s about to sleep with you and the truth is - he’s scared. What if you don’t like it? What if he can’t make you cum? It’s a reasonable fear, isn’t it? After all, it’s your first time sleeping together - it usually takes time to figure out what your partner likes or dislikes. He’s slept with a few girls and he’s definitely experienced in the sex field - though he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. He wants to make you feel good, he wants to pleasure you - he wants to live up to your expectations. 

You seem to sense his nervousness, because you break the kiss by gently pulling away from him. You’re laying on your bed and he’s between your legs - both of you still fully clothed, making out like a couple of horny teenagers. He’s propped up on his elbows, muscular chest against yours and you can feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh. 

“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”, you whisper on his lips, gently stroking away one lock of hair from his face. “We can just lie down and cuddle.”, you place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. 

Now - he feels even dumber than before, because all his awkwardness led you to thinking he doesn’t want this. As if he hasn't literally dreamed of this, as if he’s not crazy about you, as if he hasn’t spent the last months trying to figure out how to find the courage to pour his heart to you. 

“No!”, he almost shouts, and you giggle at his eagerness, which makes him blush slightly. “I mean - No, I want this. Very much.”, he says as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles delicately. “It’s just - I don’t want to mess it up.”, he admits. 

“You won’t mess it up.”, you reassure him, pecking his plump lips. 

His breath hitches in his throat once again when he feels your hands travel all the way to the hem of his shirt, until you place them underneath it - your cold fingers now touching his bare back and he hisses at the feeling. 

“Sorry. Cold hands.”, you giggle. 

He kisses your lips in response, then lets his own hand travel across your body until it reaches your hip, gently squeezing it through your clothes. It’s only when you move your hands to unbutton his shirt that he realizes - it’s happening. You’re about to undress each other and see each other naked and sleep together. It’s not his brain playing a trick on him, no - it’s really happening. That encourages him to slip one hand slip under the soft fabric of your top until he reaches one of your breasts, gently cupping it. You’re wearing a bra and he can’t really feel your nipples through the fabric, but it makes his dick throb in his pants nonetheless. 

“Take this off?”, you whisper as you unbutton another button of his shirt, revealing part of his collarbone. 

He nods quickly, retrieving his hand from underneath your top only to kneel between your thighs - desperately trying to unbutton his damn shirt as fast as possible despite his shaky hands. He eventually takes it off, letting it fly across the room without a care in the world. 

You bite down on your lower lip, then you lift up your body so that you’re now sitting on the bed, and take off your top as well. Changbin hisses at the sight of you in a bra - a sight he never thought he’d be able to witness. Then, your hands reach for the button of his pants, brushing against his clothed dick in the process and his breath gets caught in his throat.  

“You’re beautiful.”, he whispers, unable to tear his eyes off of you as you fidget with the zipper of his pants. 

You snap your head up to meet his eyes and smile at him - cheeks flushing red at the sudden compliment. Finally, you manage to undo his pants, revealing the waistband of his underwear. “Off.”, you whisper, leaving a series of chaste kisses from his navel to the fabric of his boxers, which makes him shiver. 

He gets up from the bed and so do you, unzipping your pants as well, letting them slide off your thighs, revealing your underwear to Changbin, whose eyes widen in shock as he slides his own pants off. 

“I know I already said it, but - you’re beautiful.”, he repeats, placing both of his hands on your waist and pulling you closer for a kiss - his cock is now pressing on your belly, painfully hard. “So perfect.”, he moves one hand to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck. 

“Bin.”, you whimper when his lips reach your collarbone, gently sucking on the skin, careful not to leave any marks.

Changbin can’t help but groan and shut his eyes close as soon as he hears those words leave your mouth. It’s all real, he’s not dreaming. You’re really in his arms, he’s really kissing you - it’s not one of his dreams, it’s all real. You’re in your room, both of you in only your underwear, ready to discover each other’s bodies for the first time. 

There’s always some awkwardness lingering in the air the first time you sleep with someone - whether you’ve known the other person for years or they are total strangers, whether you’re inexperienced or have done this before. 

Now that Changbin is in front of you in only his underwear, all the confidence you previously had in you suddenly vanishes. What if you won’t live up to his expectations? What if it’ll be awkward? What if he doesn’t like it - doesn’t like your naked body? What if - after you sleep together - he realizes he doesn’t like you that way and wants to go back to being just friends and roommates? Will you be able to be just friends with him - pretend that nothing happened?

“Hey.”, he places two fingers under your chin and delicately lifts your head so that your eyes would meet - he sees it all in your gaze. “Now you’re the one who seems uncomfortable.”, he gives you a warm smile. 

“I’m not.”, you promise. You want this, you do want to sleep with him, you’re sure of that. It’s more the repercussions of your night together that scare you, not the act per se. 

“Good.” Changbin places a kiss on your lips. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”, he says, piercing eyes staring deep into yours. “I want you to be yourself when you’re with me - I want you to feel safe with me.”

You know you’re safe with him, and you feel definitely free to be yourself around him. That’s why you fell for him in the first place - he always makes you feel appreciated and understood, he’s a true angel. 

“I do.”, you promptly say. “I always feel safe with you - that’s why I love you.”, you whisper. He bites your lower lip once those words leave your mouth - as if those were the words he’d been dying to hear, and you yelp in surprise, but melt into the kiss. 

He squeezes your asscheek, then grinds his body against yours - your boobs now pressing against his pecs and his hard length positioned on your belly, right above your clothed core. Then, he pulls away from the kiss. 

“Lie down on the bed for me.”

You gulp, staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. It’s as if your words have suddenly awakened something inside of him - a side of him you’ve never seen, for obvious reasons. He sounds impatient, desperate to feel more - to be as close as possible to you. 

You do as he asked, letting your back fall on the soft mattress as Changbin crawls on the bed an positions himself above you - his buff body hovering over yours, the palm of his hands at each side of your face as he stares into your eyes. You spread your thighs to welcome him between them once again - only this time you’re both almost fully undressed, only the thin layers of your underwear between you. He’s rock hard in the confines of his boxers just like you’re already dripping wet inside your panties - it’s mutual, you realize. 

“Can I taste you, princess?” Changbin whispers as his lips leave a series of wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as you try to hold back a shameless moan. 

You want nothing more than for Changbin to eat you out - you’re sure you’ve even had a wet dream about this scenario, to be honest. You nod frantically, your hands roaming around his bare back, nails delicately scraping his skin. “Yes.”, you pant, and you feel his length twitch in response. 

He leaves a trail of kisses that goes from your neck to your navel and finally, he places a chaste kiss on the thin fabric of your panties - right on your clothed clit. Your hips buckle at the sudden contact, and don’t miss the way he chuckles. When he hooks his fingers to each side of your underwear and begins to pull down, you feel the urge to instinctively close your legs - suddenly feeling too exposed -, but he halts your movements by placing one hand on your knee.

“Are you feeling shy all of a sudden, princess?” Changbin asks, finally getting rid of your panties, letting the small piece of fabric fall on the floor. “Why is that so, mh?”, he rhetorically asks as he places a soft kiss on your knee. “Would it help if I was naked too?”, he mutters against your skin, leaving another kiss - this time on your inner thigh, slightly above your knee. 

“Yes.”, you whisper, but he hears you loud and clear. 

He chuckles, before pulling away from your body to kneel on the mattress - pecs and abs on full display. “What my princess wants, my princess gets.”, he says as he begins to slide his underwear down his thick thighs, revealing his painfully hard cock to you in the process, letting it slap against his abdomen. You’re staring, you’re aware, but - it’s big. And thick. You wonder how it’ll feel inside of you. 

He gets rid of his underwear and returns to where he previously was - between your legs, kissing your inner thigh. His kisses move closer and closer to where you need him the most, and you bite your lower lip when he kisses your groin - his hair brushing against your skin. He’s so close - a couple of inches away from your neglected core. 

But he doesn’t touch you there - because he’s a fucking tease. In fact, what he does is place a kiss on your other knee. Your eyes widen in pure shock, you can’t believe he’d make you squirm like that. He starts to leave kisses on your other thigh at an excruciatingly slow pace, teeth scraping your soft skin from time to time - roughly, but not too rough as to hurt you. He’d never hurt you. After what it feels like hours, he’s back at your groin - hair tickling your skin once again. 

You’re about to snap and beg him to do something, anything, when he places a delicate, chaste kiss on your pussy, earning a choked moan from you. You prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a sight like this - Changbin lying on his tummy, positioned between your legs as he licks his lips, ready to make his next move. 

He licks a long stripe that goes from your slit to your clit, before attaching his lips to your sensitive nub as he sucks delicately, going slow at first. He alternates kisses, sucks and licks in a delicious combination that has you kick your head back as your breath gets heavier and heavier - heart beating fast in your chest. 

“Can I?”, he pulls away from your clit with a grunt, and you’re about to ask him what, when you suddenly feel the pads of two of his fingers brushing against your slit, collecting some of the dampness between your legs. 

“Please.”, is all you manage to get out - with a heavy sigh. 

He inserts only one finger at first, making sure to go slow just in case. It feels weird to have another man’s finger inside of you - good weird, of course, you’re just not used to it. Your previous partners weren’t really fond of foreplay when it came to giving, and they’d rarely do that spontaneously. You’re barely accustomed to the feeling of having one of his long fingers inside of you - when you feel another one poking at your entrance, ready to slip in. 

“Gonna stretch you out real good, princess.” Changbin groans against your pussy, letting the other finger slip inside of you. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

It already feels good, you want to tell him, but you’re stopped by his tongue - swirling around your clit as he slightly bends his fingers inside of you. He sucks on your clit and at the same time he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, making sure his pads would brush against your g-spot every time. Once he’s sure he’s found the perfect spot - he just knows by the way you’d kick your head back and let out a chocked moan -, he stops thrusting his fingers completely. Instead, he moves just his pads, rubbing your sweet spot as he kisses and licks and sucks your clit in the meantime. He feels you clench around him, and it’s his signal to just don’t stop - to keep going, and that’s what he intends to do. 

“Changbin, I’m -“, you pant - you want to warn him you’re about to cum, but you don’t get to, because a particularly long suck on your clit, combined with the stimulation provided by his fingers, has you falling apart under his touch - releasing around his fingers with a series of whimpers as your toes curl and your hands grip on the sheets underneath you. 

“You were so good, princess.” Changbin praises you as he slowly removes his fingers, careful not to overstimulate you, before placing a single, chaste kiss on your clit as a well done. “You came so hard.”

“Now it’s your turn.”, you manage to get out - still heavily panting and trying to regain your breath, but you still want more. “I want to feel you.”

Changbin lifts his body up and kneels between your parted legs, resting one hand on your knee as he brings his fingers - the one that were buried inside of you - to his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around them as he licks them clean. “Taste so good, princess, can’t wait to find out how you feel wrapped around me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat for the millionth time tonight, but you guess it’s the effect Changbin has on you. How are you supposed to remain calm and collected when your crush is currently between your legs, naked, after eating you out as if it was his last meal? 

“Do you happen to have a condom, princess?” Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality. 

Your eyes widen and you realize that no, you don’t have one - another proof of your lack of action lately. “No, I don’t.”, you admit. 

“I’ll go check in my room.” Changbin is about to get up from the bed, but you stop him by grabbing him by the wrist, halting his movements completely. 

“It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”, you whisper, feeling your cheeks heating up as soon as you say those words. “I’m clean - if you’re clean, we can do it without one.” 

Changbin looks taken aback and stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape as his brain tries to process what you just said. You want him… to fuck you raw? 

“I’m clean, but… princess, are you sure? I can go check, it’s not a problem. My room’s right across the hallway.”, he wants to make sure you’re not feeling pressured or anything - because you’re not. If you want him to put on a condom he’ll go check in his room if he has one - hell, he’ll go to the nearest store and buy some if he has to. 

“I’m sure, Bin. I want to feel you.”, you whisper, and Changbin gulps hard. 

“Fuck - okay, princess.”, he mutters, positioning himself between your legs once again - in the mean time, you take off your bra in a matter of seconds, revealing your bare breasts to him. He wastes no time in capturing one of your nipples in his lips, gently sucking on it as he presses his body against yours - his muscular arms resting at each side of your body, cock rock hard pressing on your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

You’re ready, you’re more than ready. So you tell him - it comes out in a whisper, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He shifts his weight on one arm and wraps his own fingers around the thick base of his cock, aligning its tip to your entrance. He looks into your eyes one more time in search for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort, but he can’t find any. Eventually, he starts to push in, and you feel the tip of his thick length part your folds slowly, entirely coated in your arousal. 

“Oh, God.” Changbin gasps once he’s fully settled inside of you - his cock stretching you out real good. It’s been a while since he had raw sex, so he needs to collect himself before he can finally start to thrust inside of you. “Give me a second, princess.”, he pants, face scrunched in pleasure of feeling your tight pussy wrapped around him. “You feel so good around me, you have no idea.”, he whispers on your lips. “So fucking tight."

Once he’s sure he won’t come on the spot as soon as he starts moving - he begins to roll his hips to meet yours. You wrap your arms around his buff figure, placing both of your hands on his back - gently scratching the skin with your fingernails, earning a series of deep grunts from him. He’s propped up on his elbows that are resting on each side of your face, and his face instantly falls in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin as he bites gently on your collarbone. 

“You feel so good inside of me.”, you return the compliment - panting and whimpering as he moves in and out of you at a steady pace. 

It feels perfect inside of you, and without the layer of the rubber you’re able to feel all of him - his velvety skin, in contrast with how hard he is right now, the way it throbs inside of you as he pushes back inside, stretching you out real good. Your hands wander all over his body, but inevitably end up wrapping around his biceps, squeezing them tight as you let out a chocked moan at the feeling of his flexed muscles. 

“You like ‘em that much?” Changbin teases you, snapping his head up to meet your eyes, still thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy. 

You nod frantically, feeling even more aroused by his words. “Yes, God.”, you pant. “They turn me on so much.”

“Really?” Changbin snaps his hips faster at your confession. 

“Yeah.”, you whimper, kicking your head back in pleasure after a particularly hard thrust - Changbin’s hips colliding with yours. “They’re so big and… look so good on you. Look so hot.”

“Yeah?” Changbin pants as he leaves a series of wet, sloppy kisses on your neck - occasionally sucking on the soft skin. “I kinda figured that out, you’re always staring when I’m done working out.”, he chuckles.

“It’s not my fault.”, you whimper. “You look so hot in those snug shirts.”, you involuntarily clench around him when the image of Changbin post-workout pops up in your head, and he grunts when he feels your walls squeezing him.  

“What else do you like?”, he mutters against your skin - eyes closed shut in pleasure as he tries his best to last as long as possible, but it’s hard - you’re just so fucking hot.  

“Your thighs.”, you answer without hesitation - as if you’d been waiting for his question. “Look so fucking big and hot - makes me wanna ride them all the time.”, you’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore - too lost in the moment, in Changbin’s lips on you, in his hips slamming against yours, in his cock twitching inside of you. 

“Fuck - you can’t say things like that.” Changbin snaps his head up to look at you. “You’ll make me cum.”

The desperation in his voice somehow turns you on even more - the thought of him trying to hold back in order to postpone his orgasm and last longer drives you crazy. You’re pleased to find out he’s as whipped as you are - both too caught up in the moment to think straight. 

“I want you to cum.”, you whisper on his lips and he hisses when he feels you clench around him - on purpose, this time, as you wrap your limbs around him. 

“But I want to last some more.” Changbin practically whines as his hips start to move more frantically when he feels you clenching around him - he’s close, and it’s all because of you. He thought he could bear with how tight you feel around him, how deep he is nested inside of you - but you whispering such things in his ear?

“Don’t you want to come inside of me?”, you whisper, squeezing his biceps harder. “You don’t want to fill me up?”

Changbin’s eyes widen as soon as he hears your words. Inside of you? You want him to - oh, fuck. The thought of filling you up has crossed his mind, but he never really thought he’d get to do that. He thought you wanted him to pull out when he was about to cum, he never really expected you to let him finish inside of you. The thought is driving him crazy, and before he can stop himself - he’s already cumming, hot spurts of his seed coating the insides of your walls as he releases with a deep grunt, not even thinking about halting the movements of his hips. 

“Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“, he mumbles incoherently as he continues to rock his hips until he’s sure he’s spilled until the very last drop. 

“It’s okay.”, you place a soft kiss on his forehead as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, clearly embarrassed even though there’s nothing to be ashamed of. “It was hot.”

Was it?, Changbin can’t help but wonder. He honestly doesn’t think that cumming that fast can be considered hot - especially since he didn’t even get you off. Sure, he made you cum before with his mouth and fingers, but he’s a bit disappointed in himself for acting like a horny teenager around you, for ruining your first time together.  At least that’s what he thinks - you don’t think he ruined it. In fact, you think the total opposite. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t make you cum.”, he mutters against your skin, sounding a bit guilty. 

“It’s fine.”, you reassure him, running your hand through his hair, gently tugging at it as you rubbed his bare back with your other hand. “Besides, you did make me cum earlier.”, you remind him. 

“Yeah, but not when I was inside of you.”, he whines. 

You don’t care about that, you know it’s not that important. Sex is made up of different factors and situation, and it’s not always the same - even if it’s with the same person. You know that getting off doesn’t always have to be the ultimate goal and that it can still feel good even if you don’t cum, so it’s not a problem for you. 

“It doesn’t matter, I still liked it.”, you place another kiss on top of his head. 

“You did?”, he sounds surprised, snapping his head up to meet your eyes to see if you’re lying - you’re not. 

“Mh-hm.”, you hum as you caress his hair, moving a couple of locks from his face. “Very much.”

Changbin feels a little more relaxed now, if he’s being honest with himself. He places a kiss on your lips before he shifts his body to remove himself from inside of you, kneeling between your legs. Once he pulls out, he can’t help but stare at your pussy - impatient to see his cum drip out of your hole and onto the sheets, hissing at the sight. His cum looks so good, leaking out of you - if cum can look good. 

You, however, are preoccupied with another thought. Where do you go from here? You’d told Changbin you love him and then you had sex, but he hadn’t said it back. He doesn’t feel the same way, it’s clear as day. You wonder whether you’ll be able to forget about tonight and pretend nothing happened between you - you wonder whether you’ll be okay with being just roommates from now on.

“I’m gonna go wash up.”, you mumble, not looking at him, sitting up on the mattress -  careful not to make a mess on the bed as you get up, retrieving a clean towel from a drawer to dry his cum. 

Once you leave the room and disappear in the bathroom, Changbin feels like the biggest idiot out there. He immediately noticed something’s off with you and he still didn’t do anything about it - he still hasn’t talked to you about what you’d said, the whole you-loving-him thing. And now you’re clearly upset and confused, and it’s all his fault - he needs to fix this, he can’t bear the thought of you being sad or hurt because of him. 

He quickly rushes to the bathroom as well, and knocks a couple of times on the wooden door. You don’t answer, though - you probably can’t hear him since the water’s running and you’re probably in the shower, but what he needs to tell you can’t wait, so he gently pushes the door open and covers his eyes - in case you don’t want him to see you like that, even though he’s still naked himself. 

“Changbin?”, you ask - you sound a bit surprised to see him there but it’s not like you’re shocked or anything. 

He’s still covering his eyes with his hand - which you find weird, considering he was literally inside of you less than ten minutes ago. He’s standing on the doorstep, not daring to come in just in case you don’t want him there. 

“What are you doing standing there? Come in.”

He gasps, taken aback by your offer. Come in? As in in the shower? With you? He’s pretty confused about the whole situation, but then he hears the noise of the shower door sliding open. He removes his hand from his eyes, and his gaze falls on your naked figure, standing in the shower - back facing him. He seems hesitant to hop in the shower with you, so you speak again. 

“Hurry, I’m freezing!”, you urge, and he finally takes a step forward -  and then two, three, four, until he’s entering the shower, the hot water drenching his body as he slides the shower door close behind him. 

Even though you kissed and had sex and he literally came inside of you - he’s still surprised about the intimacy of the act of showering together - somehow even more intimate than his dick in your pussy, if he’s being honest. This feels… domestic, the kind of thing a couple would do on a regular basis - and not two roommates, and it makes him happy, because he knows he hasn’t been seeing you as only his roommate in a while now. But you still wouldn’t turn your body to face him, so he guesses he better talk now - say what he’s been wanting to tell you for months. 

“Y/n?”, he calls your name quietly. 

“Mh?” 

You still won’t turn around, so he wraps his muscular arms around your figure, right below your naked chest as he presses his body against yours so that your back is now touching his chest - his mouth so close to your ear it sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s nothing compared to the words he voices out next. 

“I love you too.”

Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear those words - the words you’ve been dying to hear. You turn around and snap your head up to meet his eyes - brain short-circuiting as you’re trying to process his words. 

“What?”, you mumble, still in his arms. 

He smiles at you - red in the face, flustered. “I love you too.”, he repeats - now even the tips of his ears are turned red, he’s so cute. Yes, Changbin might be buff and muscular, but you know he’s secretly a softie - that’s why you like him so much, he’s got the whole package. “Sorry it took me so long to say it back."

His confession has tears well up in your eyes as you bury your face in his chest and wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and gently caresses your back with his hands.

You stay like this for a while, under the hot stream of the water, in pure silence, embracing each other in a tight, heartfelt hug - both of you smiling and grinning like idiots. Idiots in love. Changbin’s soft hands gently brushing against your back and your head on his chest, allowing you to feel how fast his heart is beating in his chest. No words are needed, you love Changbin and he loves you too - words will probably ruin the magic of this precious moment you’re sharing together, a moment you’ve both been dreaming of.

⚡︎

reblog my works if you enjoyed reading them - it encourages me to keep writing more! ♡

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[straykeedz]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞; 𝐛.𝐜.

wc: 12,9k

tw: swearing; talks about sex; virginity loss; oral (f & m receiving); handjob; sex toys; masturbation (f & m); protected sex; idiots2lovers; bff2lovers; chan calls reader babygirl 🫠; mentions of blood and periods;

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for too long, it’s time to share it with you! even tho this fic is my baby i’m not really happy with it…. so don’t be too harsh with me pls. as per usual, this isn’t proofread, so tell me if you spot any mistakes!!

@bunbunbl0gs , @p3rcysl3ttuce , @asarajaa , @silentcry01

♡

“You asked Felix.”

Chris doesn’t sound particularly happy — arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched and all that as he looks at you as though you’re his greatest disappointment and maybe you are. Pausing your current favourite reading, the book ends up falling face down on the couch. 

“Hello to you, too,” you roll your eyes at him. “Sure, you can digit the passcode and make your way inside my apartment as if you lived here.”

“Not the time to act sassy, little miss,” Chris mocks you. “You asked Felix,” he repeats. 

“What did I ask Felix?” You look at him dumbfounded. 

Chris folds his arms, rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t even start. You know what I’m talking about.”

It’s true, you do know. You just don’t know why it seems to be bothering Chris so much, why is he so invested in this. 

“Why do you sound mad?”

“‘Cause I am mad!” Chris states matter-of-factly. “And worried about your lack of judgment.” 

You roll your eyes at him — he’s always so dramatic. He should have pursued a career as an actor, really, because he’s literally causing a scene over nothing like you’d just betrayed him or something. 

“Why are you even mad? I asked you first! And you said no.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go and ask someone else!”

“Why not?”

“Because!” 

Now he isn’t making any sense, and you are starting to become bored of this pointless conversation. You hug your knees, tilting your head in confusion. 

“I genuinely don’t get why you’re so upset. I asked Felix, so what?”

And Chris sighs, opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again before he closes it, unsure of what to say. Then, after putting much thought into what to say, he clears his throat and finally speaks.

“Okay, first— he’s my best friend,” Chris starts, lifting one finger up in the air dramatically, and you immediately interrupt him. 

“He’s my friend, too. And hey! Fuck you, I thought I was your best friend,” you cross your arms over your chest. 

“Will you let me finish, woman?” Chris sighs, facepalming himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, he’s your friend, too, and you’re both my best friends. That’s why this is fucked up on so many levels.” 

“Chris, it’s just sex.”

“It’s not—” he takes a deep breath, “it’s not just sex—” he scolds you much like a strict parent would, and doesn’t appreciate it in the slightest when you roll your eyes at him, “it’s your first time and it should be with someone you love and care about.”

“Alright grandma,” you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m being serious.”

“Chris, I love you and I care about you,” you don’t hesitate to say. “So I asked you first. And I also love and care about Felix.”

Chris scoffs. 

“Let me rephrase that— it should be with someone you’re in love with,” he declares. 

You so desperately want to tell him it still doesn’t change anything. It’s just a technicality, and besides that, you’re also in love with him for the record, but you probably shouldn’t say that. Not when he’s here in your living room, interrupting a very good reading session because he found out you asked Felix, too. 

In your defence, you asked Felix in a totally platonic way just to get over the fact you’d gotten rejected by Chris. It should’ve been the magical moment in which the two characters realise they’ve been idiots the whole time, confess their feelings to one another, and fuck until their bodies are all sore and stuff like that. It didn’t go as planned, of course, because when anything ever does in your life?

“Chris, I really appreciate you caring for me, but it’s not mandatory or something,” you groan out of frustration. “Are you saying you were in love with every person you slept with?” 

“Yes!” 

His answer leaves you flabbergasted, but only for, like 0.2 seconds, because then you remember Chris is a big ol’ sap who spent his entire teenage years writing love poems and love songs and that he knows by heart every single romantic movie you could think of — it only makes sense that he’s only ever made love instead of just having sex. Ouch?

“Look— I don’t need that,” you try to make him understand your point of view, “I just wanted someone who cared about me to do it with. That’s why I asked you. I know you’re experienced and I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me or anything like that.”

“You asked Felix, too, though.” 

“Yeah, but that was, like, totally platonic,” you shrug, and you’re telling the truth. “Plus, he said no anyway. Wow, look at me— getting turned down by two guys in two months! It really boosts one’s self esteem, huh?”

Chris snorts, not quite amused by your sarcasm. Why are you so stubborn over this topic, he’ll never understand. Why are you desperately trying to rush this, without even contemplating the consequences of this type of actions. Chris deems himself a coward for not revealing the reason why he turned the offer down, but he figures he should leave it for another time. When you’ll be eighty years old is fine. 

“Of course he said no, he knows I would’ve kicked his ass if he’d agreed to this insanity.” 

“I kind of get why you’re cockblocking me, even if I think you’re being a little unreasonable, but I really don’t get why you’re cockblocking Felix, too.” 

“I already told you why. It’s fucked up and I don’t want things to change between the three of us.”

“Why would they change?”

Because I’m in love with you!, Chris desperately wants to say, and I don’t want you to sleep with my best friend!. It’s a reasonable and sensible argument, isn’t it? Maybe not so much, but who cares. Chris knows Felix isn’t in love with you, and he also knows you’re not in love with Felix, so that’s why you shouldn’t have sex with Felix in the first place. Then, Felix knows about Chris’ feelings for you, so that’s another reason why it should never happen — he wouldn’t be able to look at Felix ever again if he slept with you. 

“Just listen to me, okay?” Chris cuts the conversation short. “It’s a bad idea. End of the story.” 

“Fine,” you give up. “I won’t ask anyone else you know. Message received.” 

Chris facepalms himself again. You seem to keep missing the point of what he’s telling you and he doesn’t know if you’re testing him or you’re actually being serious right now. 

“Gosh, you— you’re gonna make my brain explode,” Chris groans, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why are you so stubborn? You should wait for the one you love.” 

But you already asked the one you love. And he said no.

“Yeah. Okay, fine,” you give up with a sigh. “You win.” 

Chris actually facepalms himself. 

“It’s not about winning anything. I’m just trying to put some sense into you. I wouldn’t want you to regret it or end up getting hurt.” 

You nod, but only to shut him up. He doesn’t know the reason behind why you’ve asked him and, frankly, he doesn’t need to know. Chris is a great friend and always worries about you — maybe too much, at times, coming off as a hyper protective parent. 

“Yeah, I get it,” you hum. “Can we just forget about it now? I’m not in the mood to talk about this any more.” 

Chris is still worried about you, but nods anyway, not wanting to push you to talk to him if you don’t feel like it.  

“Hm,” Chris hums approvingly. He pulls you right into his arms for a hug to ease the tension, feeling instantly better when he feels you relax in his embrace. “I’m sorry for acting so protective. You know I care about you, right?”

You nod. 

“I know. And I appreciate it, really. But I’m a big girl, Chris. I think I can make decisions by myself.” 

Chris holds you tighter. He silently accepts the boundary you just put between the two of you. 

— 

Until he doesn’t. 

Until you’re out one night and he’s gone for literal minutes and when he’s back there’s a guy between your legs. Literally between your legs. You’re sitting on one of those super tall chairs, dressed in a beautiful, but also very short dress, giggling and batting your eyelashes at someone Chris has never seen before. What the fuck? Who the fuck is that dude? Has he just spawned between your thighs from nowhere?

He’s behind that guy within seconds, grabbing him by the collar and practically shoving him away from you. He’s met with your shocked expression, with the bewildered look distorting the guy’s features. 

“Chris! What the hell!” You shout, jumping off the chair and adjusting your dress so that you’re not showing too much skin. “Are you out of your mind?” 

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was just about to ask you the same damn thing,” he barks, mad at you for no reason. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

The guy who was previously on you looks bewildered. He points at Chris, looks at you frowning. “Is this your boyfriend?” 

You scoff. 

“No, this is my annoying best friend whose primary mission in his life is to cockblock me in every possible way, every chance he gets.” 

Now it’s Chris who scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as if he were in the right. As if he weren’t fucking obsessed with your virginity or something. You need to have a serious talk with him all over again. 

“I’m just making sure you won’t make any mistakes you’re going to regret.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. 

“Who says I’m going to regret this?” 

“Really?” Chris quirks an eyebrow at you. “What’s this guy’s name?” 

“Jeonghan.” 

“Uh, actually— it’s Jaehyun,” the guy clarifies. 

Chris makes a face. As if to say, ‘see? I told you.’ You sigh, not wanting to admit defeat. That he’s right and you’re wrong. 

“Well, the music is loud and I misheard him. Is that a crime?” 

“No, but I think it’s concerning how stupid and immature you’re being right now.”

Jeonghan— Jaehyun looks a bit uncomfortable. “Uhhh. I think I should go.” 

You keep glaring at Chris and Chris keeps glaring at you. The guy leaves and it goes unnoticed. You can’t believe Chris just called you stupid and immature and thought it would be okay. Tears start prickling in your waterline. 

“Why are you being such an asshole right now?” 

Chris’ features soften. He wants to explain himself and tell you he’s sorry, that it’s not what he meant, but you don’t give him a chance to. You’re out of his sight before he can add anything else. 

He runs after you. He chases you and he catches you, hand firmly yet reassuringly wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

You don’t say anything. Chris sighs. 

“I’m really sorry.”

“You hurt my feelings.” 

Chris’ heart shrinks. He feels terribly guilty when he looks at you and sees you drying your eyes with the hem of your sleeve. Great, he made you cry. He really is an asshole. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” he says once more. He opens his arms, pulls you in for a hug. “C’mere.” 

You don’t wrap your arms around him. That’s how he knows you’re mad, and you’ve got every right to be. 

“It was out of line. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. And I shouldn’t have called you stupid or immature. I was an ass.” 

“It’s just— we just keep on arguing on the same shit. You don’t get my point of view and I don’t understand why you care so much about me losing my virginity.” 

Chris’ heart skips a beat when he’s put before the evidence of the truth. Why does he care so much? Huh. He shouldn’t tell you. Surely not right now.

“I just don’t want you to—”

“Regret it, I know. You’ve said it a million times already,” you sigh. “I regret telling you, though. If that’s how you’re going to act every single time.” 

“You can’t blame me for trying to look out for you.” 

“Well, I can if it means all you’re gonna do is embarrass me and call me stupid and act like a possessive boyfriend.” 

Chris’ stomach feels weird. He doesn’t like where this conversation is going. He doesn’t like the fact that you’re right, he’s nobody to tell you what to do. Especially, he’s nobody to tell you who you should or shouldn’t sleep with. It’s your body and your choice, and he has to respect that.

“I’ve already told you that I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time, too. I just don’t understand what you want from me. I asked you first, you said no. I asked Felix, you got mad. You told me it should be with someone I care about, I told you I care about you and you said it was different,” you ramble on, a few people look curiously at you as they pass by. “Like, seriously. You’re like that dog in the story we once read in the Spanish course we took.” 

“What dog?” Chris questions, confused, frowning. 

“The one who won’t eat and won’t let others eat either,” you explain. “Pun not intended,” you roll your eyes at him, “but really. It’s getting ridiculous. I’m a grown woman, Chris.” 

Chris’ mouth and lips move before he can even comprehend what he’s doing. The sentence leaves him so naturally it takes the both of you off guard. 

“Do you still want me to be your first?” 

Your eyes widen, legs almost nearly give in. Did you hear him right?

“What?” 

The damage’s already done. There’s no point in denying what he’s said. Chris does his best to calm down his nerves and swallow the thick lump in his throat. It’s make it or break it. 

“Do you still want me to be your first?” He repeats slowly, looking you in the eye. The straightforwardness takes you off guard. “‘Cause I’ll do it. If you still want me to be your first I’ll do it.” 

You look at him, trying to understand where all this is coming from. After all, he rejected you the first time you asked him. What changed now?

“You— I already asked you. You said no. How is that any different now?” 

Chris sighs. Technically, you’re right. But still, you don’t know why he turned your offer down in the first place. It’s not because he didn’t want you— quite the opposite, actually. 

“I said no ‘cause I didn’t want it to be an impulsive decision of you,” Chris explains. “I still think you should wait for the right guy. But you’re so stubborn and I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret with a random asshole that won’t treat you right.” 

“Chris…”

“But if you’re sure about this… if you want me to be your first, I’m okay with it.” 

You shake your head. Chris feels as if his heart has stopped beating inside his ribcage. 

“No.”

Chris blinks. His stomach drops.

“No?”

“You shouldn’t do it if it’s not something you want as well. I won’t force you. I couldn't bear to look at myself ever again knowing I made you do something you didn’t want.” 

Chris sighs. 

“It’s not because of that that I said no. I want you to be sure.” 

“I am sure. Why would I ask you if I wasn’t sure?” 

“I don’t know!” 

You stare into each other’s eyes for a while. Then, you both burst into a laugh. Everything is always so easy with Chris. That’s how you know you aren’t going to regret choosing him to be your first. The fact that you’d like for him to also be your last is another matter. 

“Alright. Then I guess this means we’re having sex.”

Chris’ eyes widen. 

“Now?” 

You can feel your cheeks becoming red, matching his face and ears. “No, no, not right now! I feel like we should sit down and talk about it first, before anything happens.” 

He nods. 

“Sounds like the right thing to do,” Chris says. 

—

Sit down and talk about it you do, that same night. Chris drives you home and you invite him in without any hidden meaning, of course. You’ve already agreed that it’s not happening tonight.

Even though you’re sure about your decision to ask Chris to be your first, you need to wait for other reason. First of all, you’re not wearing your sexiest lingerie. Secondly, your bedroom is a mess. Because if it were for you… you’d let him fuck you in this instant. 

He looks like the epitome of sex. With his hair falling in front of his eyes, his plump lips a bit red from all the nervous biting— and then the sexiest outfit he could ever choose (it’s just a pair of dark grey cargo jeans and a black tank top, but you have a crush on him and you’re horny for him).

“So you just want… to get it over with?” He asks, trying to understand how it’s supposed to happen. 

“I mean… it’s not like I want you to just come here, stick it inside and then leave,” you explain and for some reason you both blush at the implication behind your words.

“Mhhh, got it. So, like, you’re okay with foreplay and getting to know each other’s bodies first, right?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I want you to teach me all the basic stuff. Help me see what I’ve been missing out.” 

Chris wiggles his eyebrows jokingly. “Ohhh, so you want the whole Chris Bang Experience™️?” 

“Chris Bang Experience?”

“You forgot ™️.” 

“Is it really a thing?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, not convinced. 

“Of course it is, but not the point,” Chris dismisses the topic. “Back to us. Is kissing allowed?” 

“I mean— of course,” you reply. “I can’t imagine going straight to fucking without making out first. You know, a little touching over the clothes while we kiss, and then it escalates and… you know.”

It feels weird to think that you’re planning your first time with Chris in detail. Here, on your couch, going through every detail of how it’s going to be. It feels weird but also exciting and you cannot wait. 

“Alright, sounds good.” 

He smiles at you. You smile back, trying not to show how nervous and excited you are to do this. With Chris, of all people. 

“Do you… uh. It feels a bit weird to ask,” you chuckle nervously, not sure how to put the question. 

“You know I won’t judge. You can ask me anything.” 

Damn, Chris. He’s going to make your heart explode. 

“It’s a bit personal.” 

He pulls a face. 

“We’re literally talking about me taking your virginity.” 

He’s right. You shrug. 

“I, uh… do you… want me to shave? Down there, I mean… Do you have a preference?” 

His features soften. He sighs. 

“Okay, first of all. You always, always have to do what makes you feel the most comfortable. Got it?” You nod. “And then— promise me you’re never going to sleep with anyone who tells you how to keep your… intimate parts. Alright?” 

“Alright. I was just checking what your preferred…” 

“Confidence. My preference is confidence.”

It takes you off guard. He sounds sincere, and he is. 

“Okay.” 

He smiles. 

“Good. Just do what feels right to you. You want to shave? That’s okay. You don’t want to shave? That’s okay, too.” 

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Yes, choosing Chris was definitely the right choice. 

“Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Chris smiles at you and your stomach hurts a bit. 

You stay quiet for a while. Chris’ words ringing in your ears. 

“Are you free next weekend?” 

Chris nods. “Yep. Wanna hang out?” 

Your gaze falls on your lap, where you’re nervously toying with your fingers. 

“I was thinking… maybe we could do it then.” 

“Ah.” 

He wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. Not that he’s disappointed of course. 

“Okay, sure. No problem,” he says after a while, after he’s shook the thought off his head before his brain could short circuit. 

“Alright. Is Friday okay?”

It feels so contractual for some way, and part of you doesn’t like that, but there’s the part of you that can’t wait to experience this with Chris that’s guiding you right now. 

“Friday sounds good.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

After a few awkward seconds spent looking nervously at each other, you break the ice. 

“D’you wanna watch something? I can make popcorn.” 

“Shall we rewatch Lord of the Rings?” 

“You know me so well.” 

—

It was supposed to happen on Friday, your first sexual encounter with Chris. 

And yet here you are, twenty four hours after you had The Talk™️, unable to stop thinking about how bad you want to jump him. Thankfully, there are the guys around since you’re having dinner all together, and that’s the only thing that’s stopping you. 

Chris is wearing a tank top and his usual grey sweats and there’s literal foam at the corners of your mouth, like a rabid dog. You feel like there isn’t an ounce of shame in your body right now. And he’s just over there, sat on the couch, being a nerd with Felix as they talk about the following event on their new favorite game they play together. Completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts running back and forth in your head, he is. Maybe it’s better this way. 

But then the boys start to leave. Seungmin has to work early in the morning, and Minho has his three cats to feed. One by one, everyone leaves. Except you. And Chris, since it’s his place. 

You’re helping him clean out his living room, putting away all that’s left on the table, putting bowls and cutlery in the dishwasher, looking at him with the corner of your eye, lingering a bit too much. 

This is sooo not good for your crush… At this point, you’re never getting over him. 

“You alright?”

Chris’ voice startles you. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

He mindlessly places his hand on your hip and the horny alarm goes off inside your brain. It’s just a simple touch, something Chris has done thousands of times because he’s just a touchy guy who loves skinship, but right now, with the awareness of what’s going to happen between the two of you, it’s like it’s entirely different. At least, your body reacts to it as if it were different. 

“It’s okay. Was just thinking.” 

“About?” 

It would be very inappropriate to tell him how bad you want to pull down his sweats right now and… do what, exactly? You’ve never even seen a man naked in real life, what makes you think you’ll be able to please Chris? Maybe he could teach you, though… 

“Just stuff.” 

“Alright, be mysterious, then,” he giggles as he carries the last two empty glasses to the kitchen. 

If there’s anyone who can teach you, though, that’s Chris. A board pops up inside your brain, divided into two columns — pros and cons of asking Chris to teach you how to give pleasure to someone who has a dick. You can’t think of any cons when he’s dressed like that. Gosh, you are no better than a man, aren’t you?

“Can I suck you off?”

The glasses Chris was holding don’t make it to the dishwasher, because he drops them as soon as he registers what you’ve just asked him, and they crash to the ground with a loud noise, smashing into small pieces that end up everywhere. 

“What— fuck!”

“Oh my god, Chris! Wait, no, don’t move, you’re gonna end up cutting yourself. I’ll clean this up.”

Not the reaction you were hoping for, but what did you expect? Of course he’s surprised, considering your proposal literally came out of nowhere. You look over at him with the corner of your eye and catch him just standing there, pressed against the counter, the tips of his ears crimson red. He’s cute when he’s flustered. 

“You should really stop walking around barefooted,” you comment with a chuckle as you throw the smashed glass pieces into the trash can, making sure there isn’t any more lying around. 

“Yeah, you’re… right,” Chris scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed because your question is still hanging on somewhere in the air and none of you have addressed it yet. He decides to be courageous. “So. Uh. That. That came out of nowhere.”

You know what he’s talking about. 

“Uh. Yeah. Kinda.” Not really. “I just— I was thinking. It’s probably going to be a lot if we do everything on Friday, right?”

You can’t tell him his plain and boring outfit is actually driving you crazy since the moment you’ve walked into his house. You blame it on your ovulation for being so horny. Or maybe it’s all Chris. Who knows. 

“Oh— yeah. Yeah, sure. You do have a point. Um. Are you sure you wanna do it right now?” 

“Positive,” you crack a smile. “Unless you don’t wanna— that’s fine if you don’t—”

“No, no! I was just making sure you don’t feel like you have to do it, you know.”

“I want to do this. I want you to teach me.” 

Blood rushes south in Chris’ body. A timid bulge is now showing up on the front of Chris’ sweats. He shouldn’t be this horny over his best friend wanting to suck his dick. But you’re not only his best friend, are you? Technically, you are, but Chris has been crushing on you for the longest time now, so his reaction is kind of understandable. 

Plus, it’s so sexy to hear you admit you want him to teach you all this dirty stuff. 

That’s how you end up in Chris’ living room, on his couch, now shy and unsure how to start it. It’s much more complicated when you aren’t a couple but just two idiot best friends, you have to admit it. 

“So, uhm. How… how do I start?” 

“Do you want to make out a little bit first? You know, to ease the tension…”

That’s probably a good idea. That actually sounds like the greatest idea. Until you realize you’ve never kissed Chris. That can’t be awkward, though, right? Of course it’s gonna be awkward, a silly voice inside of your brain warns you, he’s your best friend! 

But you decide to mute that silly voice and just focus on Chris. There’s no time to rethink this, not when you’re so close to each other’s faces already. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Alright.”

Okay. The great news is that kissing Chris doesn’t feel awkward at all. The bad news is that kissing Chris doesn’t feel awkward at all. Not in the slightest. 

His lips are on yours and it feels like they’ve always been. Like you just stopped kissing him three seconds ago and now you’re back at it. Like you’ve done this a million other times before, when you’ve just kissed him once during spin the bottle. 

It’s different now. Now there’s an indecent proposal weighting on you both and much more tongue. And there’s also goosebumps all over your arms and legs and wetness pooling inside of your underwear. 

You feel Chris’ fingers intertwine with yours. And then he’s shamelessly moving your hand until it ends on top of his crotch, right where he’s rock hard. Oh god. You’re absolutely sure you’re going to melt when you squeeze him over the clothes and Chris lets out a breathy moan.

You pull away from each other and rest your forehead on Chris’.

“I don’t know what to do…” you confess, because it’s true — you have no idea what’s supposed to happen next. 

“You can do pretty much whatever you want,” Chris says. “You can touch it over the clothes just like you’re doing, there isn’t a right way to do this.” 

It makes you feel only slightly better. 

“Well, but what do you want me to do?”

Chris looks at you with dark eyes, pupils nearly fully blown. His face and ears, though, are still blushing. It’s a cute coincidence. You love him. You love him so much. 

“Um. Well. It’s— you can just— like this,” he moves your hand together with his, up and down, slowly stroking him over the thick layer of his sweats. “I like the teasing. Just a bit, though.” 

“Like this?”

“Yeah… yeah that’s good. Feels so good.” 

Chris tosses his head back, slouching on the couch and spreading his legs to let you touch him more comfortably. It feels good — you’re touching his dick and it feels so good, better than every other time someone has done this to him. 

You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of Chris’ pretty face — nose scrunched in pleasure and lower lip caught between his teeth. It’s a pretty great reaction, considering you’re not really doing much. Maybe he will like it if you touched him some more? More directly, maybe?

You don’t warn him when you slip your hand inside his boxers, smirk satisfied when he lets out a choked moan. He opens his eyes to look at you, mouth hanging open as he watches your hand disappearing inside his underwear.

He’s hard and hot in your hand. And his skin is smooth and soft, in deep contrast with how hard he is. He throbs in your grip.

“Oh my—”

Only then you realize that you have no clue what to do next. Well, that’s not completely true. You’ve watched porn and read articles, so you know what you’re supposed to do. But it’s different now, because you have never done this before and you’re scared to fuck up and that he won’t like it. 

“I. Um. I don't know what to do?”

Chris smiles at you. He strokes your arm to comfort you. 

“It’s okay. Just try to move your hand the way you did before. Up and down. Oh yeah— yeah, that’s right— feels so good.” 

His arm swirls around your waist to pull you closer, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as you stroke him nice and slow, enjoying the warmth of his skin against your palm. He sighs and grunts as you bring him pleasure. 

“Just— a bit tighter. Now— now try to swipe the tip with your thumb— Yeah, like that. That’s so good oh my—”

Only then it occurs to you that you still haven’t seen him naked. 

“Can I… I mean— can I pull your pants down?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

He helps you, hooking his own fingers in the hem of his boxers and sweats, dragging them past the curve of his ass and halfway down his thighs. His cock slaps on his abdomen with a thud, hard and thick. Your face heats up even more when you take in the sight of Chris’ member. It looks incredibly hot and aesthetically pleasing, not ugly like some of the dicks you’ve seen in porn.

He jolts when you wrap your hand around him again, startled and embarrassed he’s now fully exposed. He leaves tiny kisses on your shoulder as you stroke him. 

“Can I try sucking you off now?” 

He wails, sinking his teeth in your shoulder. By the way his cock throbs in your hand, you assume he liked your straightforwardness.

“Oh god. Yeah. Please.” 

He’s cute when he’s so flustered, but you can see it in his eyes that he wants it just as much as you do. 

“Uh. How do I— I mean. How do you want me?” 

God, Chris thinks he’s about to pass out. No no, he’s about to die. It’d be super weird, tho, wouldn’t it? To die on his couch, half naked and with his dick hard. He doesn’t want to become a ghost with an erection, that would be weird as fuck. Maybe other ghosts would even make fun of him. 

Why the fuck is he thinking about ghosts when you’re kneeling on his couch with his dick in your hand, asking him to let you suck him off? He’s just a fucking loser. 

“Um. I think— I think it’d be more comfortable if you were, you know, on your knees, maybe?” 

And, being the gentleman he is, even worries about your discomfort and hands you a soft pillow to put under your knees so that they don’t meet the hard floor when you do lower yourself in front of him. 

“Tell me what to do. Teach me.” 

Chris is way too far gone to think straight. 

Not only you’re knelt between his legs, beautiful as ever, especially when you’re looking at him with those eyes. Not only that — you’re also asking him to be your first, pleading him to teach you how to be the cause of his pleasure. That thought alone would be enough to make him cum right on the spot. 

Chris sighs, content, when your hands caress his inner thighs, when your lips start to kiss his tummy, your nose brushing the hair of his happy trail softly. 

Yeah no, he’s definitely going to pass out. 

“Just— use your hand. Like you did before. Yeah, like that,” he gasps when you start moving your hand up and down, “that feels so good. Can you— can you— um. Spit on your hand.” 

You look at him confused. 

“To get it wet, y’know.”

You don’t know, but trust him with whatever he says. After all, who knows better how to pleasure him than Chris himself? A bit uncertainly, you do spit on your palm, and immediately notice a difference when you go back to stroking him. 

Chris looks down at you, bites his lips so that unnecessary words won’t accidentally slip out. You’re so focused on giving him pleasure that you don’t realize how you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. 

“Now?”

“Oh. Okay, um. Now try to take it in your mouth. Don’t force yourself— just the tip is fine for now— oh shit.” 

Chris curses loudly when you take him in your mouth for the first time, tilts his head back and gasps when you suckle on his tip. Then, he forces himself to look at you. He has a feeling that he won’t be able to last long — maybe he won’t last at all. Of course he’s had his dick sucked before, but it’s different now, because it’s you, on your knees in the middle of his living room. That’s a sight he’d never thought he would witness.

His breathing becomes short and quick as you suckle on the tip of his cock, your fingers wrapped around the rest of his length. It’s clear that you’ve never done this before, and that’s exactly what’s driving Chris crazy, especially when you look at him with those eyes while your mouth is full of him. He stretches his hand to run his fingers through your hair, thumb brushing your scalp with delicacy. 

“You’re making me feel so good,” he breathes, fisting a pillow until his knuckles turn white. “Shiiit, I won’t last. Just try— try bobbing your head a little? That’s— oh. Oh, that’s it. That’s it.” 

Of course you’re not able to take much of him in your mouth, and you’re nowhere near being a pro at it, but it’s enough. Your mouth is warm and wet and your cheeks are so red — Chris think he’s gonna burst into flames any second now. 

You have a feeling he’s not telling you what he really likes fearing he’ll make you uncomfortable. Maybe you should be a little bit bolder. You pull back, and Chris is about to ask what’s wrong, if he’s made you uncomfortable somehow, when you take his breath away by running your tongue along the underside of his cock before taking him back inside your mouth. 

It feels as if Chris’ soul has left his body. It takes him off guard. His toes start to curl, his head’s spinning violently. 

“Oh. Pull off. Baby, I’m— I’m gonna cum. Baby. Baby.” 

You don’t pull off. Instead, you moan around him at the pet name. He’s never called you that before.

Chris comes with a choked sound, abs and whole body contracting and spasming as he empties himself in your mouth. You swallow it, surprising both Chris and yourself. It tastes… weird. You’re not sure you like it. But it was definitely worth it, since this way you got to see Chris’ orgasm face and know what he sounds like, and it’s an experience worth dying for. He drapes his arm over his face as he takes some time to regain his regular breathing. 

“Come here. Come here.”

He helps you off your knees, slides his pants back up and pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you rest your head on his chest. You can feel his heart racing in his chest, and you snuggle closer. He kisses the top of your head lovingly.

“Was I good?” 

“Good? You— it was amazing.”

“Really?” You pull back to look at him. He’s not lying. 

“Mhmh,” he holds you tighter. Maybe it’s a bit too intimate, but giving the situation neither of you seems to mind it. “It was really, really good.” 

You stay like that for a little while. Your cheeks heat up at the thought that you can still taste Chris in your mouth, a bit salty and bitter at the same time. You’re not sure you can ever move on from sucking Chris’ dick. God, what are you even gonna do after he fucks you?

“C’mere. Lemme give you a kiss, yeah?” 

He’s barely able to press his lips on yours when the doorbell of Chris’ apartment rings, startling the both of you. 

“What the fu— who the hell is it at this time?” 

It’s a little over midnight. It’s a bit odd. You shrug, kind of mad that you got interrupted right when Chris was kissing you, but also worried. You hop off Chris’ lap, and he fixes himself quickly before heading to open the door. 

Felix. 

“Hey, sorry mate, I just left my phone here and—”

Felix seems surprised that you’re still at Chris’. The two of you are red in the face and look suspicious. 

“Did I… interrupt something?” He asks, eyebrows raised and curious eyes scanning both you and Chris looking for clues. “You look… I dunno. Weird.”

“No!” Chris quickly says, and Felix looks even more suspicious, narrowing his eyes at the two of you. “I was just— you know, about to drive Y/N home. It’s pretty late.”

You know it’s just an excuse Chris came up with and that he’s not actually serious. You know it, but Felix doesn’t. 

“Aw, no problem. I can drive her home since I’m already here. Don’t you have to wake up early in the morning?” 

You look at Chris, Chris looks at you. Felix looks confused. 

“Uh, yeah. But really, it’s no problem, I can drive her home.”

“Nah, it’s alright, mate. I’m going home anyways, it’s no big deal. You should probably sleep, you look tired, mate.” 

Uh. This is awkward. 

— 

You’re in the driver’s seat of Felix’s car when your phone vibrates with two new texts. It’s Chris. 

chris ♡: btw i didnt want u to leave so soon 🥲

chris ♡: felix is such a cockblock omg

And then one more. 

chris ♡: btw i loved what we did… kinda blew my mind 

you: just ur mind??? 👀

chris ♡: *gasp*

you: lol 

you: but im happy that u liked me sucking ur dick :)

chris ♡: stop!!! 🫣 im shy!!!

you: yeah shy lol 

you: but yeah i kinda didn’t want to leave either 🥹

chris ♡: maybe next time we could hang out just the two of us haha 👀

you: u say that as if we never hang out wtf

chris ♡: yeah but like 

chris ♡: i kinda want to yk…

chris ♡: reciprocate 🫣

you: oh!!!

chris ♡: did i just make things super weird? haha

you: no no 

you: ur good

you: its just

you: wasn’t expecting that 

chris ♡: is that a yes or…

chris ♡: haha

you: yeah ofc

you: its a yes :)

chris ♡: :) 

you: i can’t believe we r talking about this while im in felix’s car lol 

chris ♡: 💀

chris ♡: its a bit funny tho he was so clueless haha

you: lmao he has no idea what he’s almost walked in to 

chris ♡: lol 

chris ♡: u home yet?? 

you: we r almost there 

chris ♡: good :) 

you: why??

chris ♡: dunno, thought we could play genshin for a bit?

chris ♡: or r u tired?

You smile to yourself, and you suddenly can’t remember anymore what you were so scared of. He’s still the same Chris, you’re still the same you — you sucked his dick, so what? He’s the same loser of your best friend — trapped inside an insanely hot body, yes, but still your goofy Chris. 

you: i just got home! 

you: lemme change and i’ll log in asap :)

chris ♡: :) <3

—

It’s like nothing has happened between you and Chris. 

You see him again on Tuesday morning over breakfast, Jisung and Changbin are also there and it’s not awkward, not even when they leave to go to work and there’s only you and Chris left at the coffee shop. You hang out like you usually do and Chris tells you about the new character he finally unlocked in the game he’s currently obsessed with, and you show him a picture of that really cute plushie you wanted to get but was sold out at the store you went to. You finish your coffee and it’s all good, you don’t act like you sucked his dick. 

The fact that neither of you could stop thinking about it, though, is a whole other story. 

“I’ve got to go to work in a bit, but maybe we can hang out tonight?”

“You mean hang out or… you know, hang out?” 

Chris drops his phone onto the table. He swears under his breath, but is relieved to find out the screen isn’t cracked. 

“I’m just kidding,” you laugh, “you should see your face.”

“I hate you.”

“You looooove me.”

“No I don’t,” he raises his middle finger at you. 

“Oh, fuck off!” You laugh, and he bursts into a laugh too. 

You talk about video games, the book you’re currently reading, the series he’s watching. You talk and talk and talk until you both lose the notion of time. 

“It’s not weird, is it?” You blurt out all of a sudden, taking him off guard. 

“What’s not weird?” 

“That I… uhm… sucked you off the other day,” you lower your voice so that only Chris can hear you. 

His face turns red violently. 

“Now you’re making it weird!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because!” 

“Says the one who literally sexted me when I was in the car with Felix!” 

Chris’s eyes widen.

“I did not sext you,” he argues. “I was just being a gentleman. I was making a proposal.” 

“A very indecent one,” you smirk. “Alright, Mr. Sexter, time for me to go to work.”

“Do not call me that!” He whines. 

You chuckle. 

“Alright, I’ve teased you enough. Dinner at mine? There’s this new place that opened a few weeks ago and I really want to try it. Minho said they make the best jiaozi in the world.” 

Chris nods. 

“Alright.”

— 

At seven p.m. he’s in front of your house, at nine p.m. you’ve just finished eating and at ten p.m. he’s between your legs, only half undressed. Ready to have my dessert, he had joked, and you both had cringed after. 

And now here he is, sweet Bambi eyes looking straight into yours, his thumbs hooked in the loops of your jeans. You’re nervous, but in a good way. 

“Can I?”

You bite your lip, nod slowly. Chan lets out a shaky breath as he fully realises he’s about to pull your pants down and see you naked. It should be at least a little weird, right? Except it isn’t to Chan — he feels incredibly excited, more than he’s ever been with anyone else before. 

“Alright.” 

You arch your back, lift your body so that he can easily pull your jeans down and past the curve of your ass. He’s seen you in a swimsuit, so it’s not that big of a deal to find yourself in your underwear in front of him. 

It is, however, a big deal, when he hooks his thumbs in the hem of your panties. You suck in a breath when he locks eyes with yours and slowly drags the piece of cotton down your trembling thighs. 

“Oh my God—” you squeak, covering your red face with both of your hands, suddenly very aware of the situation you’re in. 

“Hey. Relax,” Chan says, “it’s just me.” 

Yeah, that’s kind of the whole point. 

You squeak again when you feel his hand on your knee, his thumb caressing your skin. 

“We don’t have to do this.” 

“Huh?”

Your eyes, wide open and full of emotion, stare right into his, comforting and warm as always. You feel like a ship through the most thunderous storm — Chris your lighthouse, your piece of peace.

“It’s okay if you changed your mind. We don’t have to go further.” 

You shake your head. 

“I didn’t change my mind… it’s just— ‘m nervous,” you smile at him. “You’re the first to ever see me naked.”

A shiver runs down Chris’ spine. God. He is the first. He is the first. How is he supposed to recover from the realization that he is the first man to ever strip you down naked and touch you and eat you out? Not to mention that you want him to fuck you. Maybe he shouldn’t be so turned on by this…

“You still want me to be?”

Your eyes widen. Is he really asking you that? 

Then you realize he doesn’t know about your big, fat crush on him, and that you once literally dried the battery of your clit sucker to the thought of him after he’d showed up to your place with a new haircut. You want him. You’ve wanted him. You don’t think there’s another galaxy, another universe, in which you’ll never want Chris in any possible way you’ll get to have him. 

“Yes. I trust you.”

He finally makes eye contact with your intimate parts, sucks in a breath at the sight. He feels like he is the virgin right now. He looks at you. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring at him, heart beating so fast you think it’s only a matter of time before it leaps out of your chest. What if he doesn’t like you? Physically, you mean. Maybe you should’ve worn some other kind of underwear, something sexier. Maybe he doesn’t think you’re attractive, like, at all. 

You’re forcefully pushed out your own self-sabotaging train of thought by Chris himself, who licks a long stripe all along your cunt, before letting a mouthful of spit land right where your clit is. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp out, holding your breath. 

That’s even better than your fucking toy. Chris’ tongue is wet, and hot, and it’s his tongue that’s licking you right between your legs and you think you’re actually about to pass out. 

“Are you alright?”

You nod. “I’m fantastic.”

Chris kisses your pussy all over, trying to figure out where the magic spot is. When you bite your lip and whimper, he knows he’s found it. He flicks it with his tongue once, twice, three times, and your body falls limp on the bed as you bathe in the feeling of Chris on you. 

He moans as he wraps his plump and wet lips around your clit and starts sucking, toying with it using his tongue, all whilst looking at you, completely at his mercy. He uses his two fingers to spread you open for him, his mouth never detaching from your clit as he suckles on it, trying to focus on every single one of your micro reactions to what he’s doing. 

You look down at him, where he’s eating you out into tomorrow, and the realization that it’s your best friend and your all time crush lying between your legs right now, makes you want him even more than you already do. However, you don’t want to rush it and ruin it all by having sex with Chris today, even though you feel ready and want him. But, selfishly, you don’t want any of this to end so soon. 

Chris takes your hand, intertwines your fingers, then guides it into his already disheveled hair. You tug at it when his tongue runs all over your cunt once more. His strong, buff arms keep you pinned down the mattress when you squirm a little too much. 

“Channie…”

He fucking grunts. 

He grunts, munching at your pussy, as he pins you down using just one hand on your stomach, his other hand ending up between your legs. His fingers form a v shape, spreading you out for him, as he sucks on your clit as if his life depended on it. His eyes flutter shut as he feels you coming onto his tongue. 

Apart from you, the four walls of your bedroom and a quite large collection of plushies and figurines displayed about everywhere in your room, no one has ever heard the sounds you make as you come. Chris feels blessed as his ears take in the little, quiet yet desperate whimpers that escapes your lips as your pussy throbs onto his tongue as you come. You pull his hair as you do, and Chris moans against your pussy. Your grip on his hair loosens, and Chan laps up at your orgasm, before emerging from your thighs. Your stomach does a teeny tiny backflip at the sight of his chin glistening with your wetness, evident proof that this is not one of your many wet dreams about your best friend, no — this is all true. 

“How are you feeling?” Chris asks sweetly, looking at you whilst caressing your thigh gently. 

“Feels like I’m floating,” you giggle. 

Chris wipes the residual of your cum off his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, then drops next to you. He’s painfully hard, but won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to pressure you, but he’s been grinding on the bed the entire time and he’d nearly busted when he’d found out how you taste. 

“How was it?”

You roll onto your side to look at him. Your lower half feels just a little bit cold considering you’re only naked from the waist down. 

“Amazing. I didn’t know it could feel this good,” you sigh. “Even better than my toy,” you think out loud.

Okay, maybe that’s TMI… Of course, your little slip-up doesn’t go unnoticed by Chris, whose brows raise in surprise. 

“You what now?” Surprised. “Nah, nah, nah, don’t hide from me. You have a toy? Like— a sex toy?” 

“Shut uuuuup,” you whine. “You promised you’d never judge meeee.”

Chris chuckles. 

“But I’m not judging you, I’m just curious. Didn’t know you had a toy. Perhaps is it a giant dildo?” 

“I hate you,” you grumble. 

“I’m kidding. What is it, though? I really am curious.”

You sigh, accepting defeat. You know your best friend, and he won’t drop the topic anytime soon until you reveal the juicy details. “It’s a clit sucker.”

Chris’ cock throbs, desperate for attention. The thought of you, all pretty and alone in your big bed, using a toy on you to get off, is making his brain go absolutely crazy. He wants to use it on you. He wants to hold the toy and press it on your clit and make you cum like that. He wants to hear those pretty moans once again as you come for him. 

“Oh wow. Better than a clit sucker, huh? That’s a new compliment,” he says. “Can I see it?” 

You furrow your eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Just wanna know who my rival is.” 

“Alright.”

Chris’ arch nemesis lies in the second drawer of your nightstand, hidden among your socks. It’s small and discreet, easy to hide, but it does its job amazingly and you would be absolutely unbearable without it, given that the little plastic angel protects your sanity. 

“Here’s the reason why my sanity hasn’t collapsed yet,” you announce, holding the toy for Chris to see, “a.k.a. your rival, I guess.”

Chan looks at the small object with curiosity in his eyes. He knows how it’s supposed to work, but, admittedly, it’s the first time he’s seen one in real life, so he has questions he wants answers to. 

“And how does this work?”

You press a small button on the back of the toy and it starts to vibrate weakly. There’s a tiny hole on the bottom, and Chris guesses that’s the part of the toy that’s supposed to end up on your clit. 

“Pressing the button it increases the sucking motion of the toy. It’s really great. There are days in which I’m more sensitive and even the weakest mode does the trick.” 

Chris watches the tiny silicone toy in awe. He wonders how many times you’ve used it, in which positions, and what did you fantasised about whilst using it. He feels like the biggest perv for having such impure thoughts about his best friend, who is not as innocent as he thought. 

“Can I say something? Feel free to tell me to shut up if it makes you totally uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Chris’ fingers come to wrap around the toy, feeling the low buzzing sensation on his own skin. “Is it weird that I really want to see you while you’re using it?”

Your whole neck and face heat up at Chris’ confession. 

“I really wanna see how you get off…”

Chris, without even realising it, had started palming his cock over the thickness of his sweats. When your gaze falls to his lap, you become aware of the massive tent between Chris’ legs. Is it concerning that you feel the urge to suck him off? 

“I have an idea…” you mumble, unable to stop thinking about how good Chris felt in your mouth the other day, as you tried your best to take him down your throat. Big and hot and heavy just for you…

“I’m all ears.”

“We can get off at the same time?” You suggest. “I’ll show you what works for me and you’ll show me what works for you.”

Chris nods, agreeing to your very interesting proposal. “Sounds perfect…” he hooks his fingers in the waistband of his sweats and boxers. “But I gotta warn you, I probably won’t last.” 

“It’s okay. I’m usually very sensitive after I’ve just cum, so it probably won’t take me long either.”

Chris smiles, dragging his sweats and underwear down past the curve of his ass and his balls. His cock springs free, slapping on his tummy with a heavy thud. There’s dark, curly hair at the base, a bit longer than it was the last time you’d seen his dick, plus his balls look really full and heavy and the sight makes your mouth water. Chris wraps his own fingers around his length, an action that comes natural to him, and you try to focus on his every movement, so that the next time you touch him you’ll be better. 

After turning the toy on, you realize you’ve missed an important step. You turn it off again, about to roll onto your side to open the drawer once again, but Chris’ voice interrupts you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Lube. I don’t really like it when it’s dry. Too much friction.” 

“Just give it to me.”

Chris takes the toy in his hand, brings it close to his mouth. The next thing you know, he’s letting a generous amount of spit fall right onto the hole of the toy.

You’ve read about how saliva is actually the worst thing you could use to replace lube, but you suppose it wont make much of a difference if you’re only planning to use it on an external toy that doesn’t involve penetration of any kind, so you figure it’s alright. 

When his hand comes between your legs, toy pressed on your clit, you shiver, trembling like a leaf. 

“You like it like that?” He rhetorically asks, because he’s not oblivious to the way your eyes roll in the back of your head at the contact the toy makes with your pussy. 

“I guess you do.” Cocky, sarcastic. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss out a laugh. 

“Oh, you will. Soon, baby, I promise,” he smirks. 

His eyes staring into yours, tender, soft, despite what he’s saying and what he’s doing. You’re making a mess on the sheets. He’s even more beautiful right now, hair all messy, cheeks flushed, forehead shining with sweat… how is that even possible? 

He slips his strong arm under your neck, pulls you closer. Your faces only a couple of inches apart. You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him and melt into that kiss. You want to kiss him so bad. 

“Chris, I’m—,” you gasp out. I’m in love with you, you want to say. I’ve been pathetically in love with you for years, you stupid idiot! 

“Close already?” 

“Mhhm.” That would do. 

“Good. Cum, babygirl.” 

You hold onto him for dear life as you come with a cry, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving behind red marks on the pale flesh. It lasts seconds, it lasts hours. But never too much. 

“We… we were…” 

“Huh?”

“We were supposed to do it together, you idiot,” you sigh, as your legs finally stop shaking from an earth-shattering orgasm. 

“Are you that curious to see me jerking off?” He chuckles. 

You swat his chest. “You’re impossible.” 

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Look at me babygirl.” Then, his eyes move down, where he’s touching himself. 

Slowly, like someone who knows what he’s doing, with the expertise only he can have with his body. His cock looks beautiful, flushed pink at the tip, a gracious bead of precum threatening to slip and wet his tummy. Would it be weird if you… gosh, you want to taste him so bad. 

His movements on his cock are swifter now, a few grunts come out of his throat. 

“You like watching me?” 

“Mhhm…”

It’s hot. Incredibly so. 

“What are you thinking of?” The question slips past your mouth before you can stop it. 

He smirks, bites his lip. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking of?” You nod. “I’m thinking of your lips, babygirl,” he swipes your lower lip with his thumb, eyes boring into yours. “How sweet they are… how beautiful they looked the other day, wrapped around my cock. How you swallowed my cum like a good girl…” 

It makes you shiver, the way he’s so… direct with words. Dirty. Explicit. But how can you blame him when you’re thinking about the same stuff? 

“I can do it again if you want…”

He smiles, bites his lip. 

“You wanna suck my cock again?” A smirk.

“Mhhm…”

“Go on, then, babygirl. Take me in your sweet mouth.” 

— 

On Friday, the designated day for your first time, you get your period. Right moments before Chris rings your doorbell. Huh, what a timing. 

“We can’t.” 

Is the first and only thing you say as soon as you open the door, even though he knows the code and could’ve let himself in. He looks at you, a puzzled expression on his face. 

“We can’t what?”

“Have sex,” you say with a huff. “I got my period, like, ten minutes ago.”

He looks at you, trying to decipher if you’ve just lied to him because you don’t want to sleep with him anymore or if you’re serious. In the end, he opts for the second scenario, because you’re visibly irritated. 

“It’s alright,” he says, closing the door behind his buff figure. “We can still hang out. D’you want me to grab some chocolate at the convenience store?”

“You do know that not all the people who menstruate love chocolate when they’re on their period, right?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah, but you do. So? Chocolate?”

“…. yes, please.”

Everything’s easy with Chris. It’s always been this way. 

—

And like the most beautiful things one can experience in life, it happens spontaneously, your first time. No plan, no designated day, no matching panties and bra set, no nothing. Just you and him and a nice day out in the hot spring sun. Chris’ hand on your thigh had you trembling like a leaf, even if he was just telling a joke a little too emphatically. 

You then realised just how much you love him, and decided that it was the perfect moment. That you needed him. You told him so, he nearly choked on his water, but he, too, thought it was the perfect moment. 

Which brings you here. In your bedroom, naked with Chris between your legs for a second time, just with different intentions this time. 

Chris looks you in the eye, trying to catch even just a glimpse of uncertainty, of regret, and he’s ready to stop. But he finds none. You’re sure. And it should probably be weird, right?, even just a little, but it’s not. It’s not weird that he’s between your legs, naked, ready to take your virginity like you asked him to. It should be weird, but it’s not. 

“Are you sure you’re sure?” 

“For the millionth time, Chris, yes. I am sure.” 

“Just making sure,” he shrugs. “Tell me if it hurts, or if you’re uncomfortable or whatever, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

He grips himself steadily, firmly, checking for the third time that the condom’s on properly. Then, you feel his tip prodding at your slit, ready to enter you any second now. 

You feel his hot breath on your mouth, his nose gently caressing yours, his fingers in your hair as he first presses himself inside of you. It knocks the air out of your lungs. 

It’s true, it’s happening. 

“Hurts?” He asks, concerned. 

“No, not at all,” you reassure him. “Feels perfect.” 

He enters you ever so slowly, making sure not to overwhelm you with his presence in your tightness. He bottoms out, finally, and you feel complete. It feels perfect, he feels perfect inside of you. 

He pulls out and you whimper at the loss. You miss him instantly. 

And he obliges at your unexpressed plea, immediately entering you once again. This time, an unexpected pain washes all over your lower region, it feels as if you pulled a muscle or something. Chris notices something’s up from the way you scrunch your nose and hiss.

“Did I hurt you?”

He’s so sweet. 

“I’m okay,” cupping his cheek. “It feels weird. But I don’t want to stop.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhhm.”

He pushes inside even more slowly than before, not missing one of your reactions and micro expressions. He’s so damn close and at the same time it’s not enough. You can feel him, touch him, breathe him, but you still want more. 

“More… please.” 

He begins to move, propped on his elbows which are resting on each side of your face. It knocks the air out of your chest for a good couple of seconds, but it’s the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced so far, and you’re excited for more. You want to keep making love to Chris for ever. 

You inadvertently clench around his length and he hisses. 

“Sorry.”

“You… you have no idea how you feel wrapped around me, babygirl.” 

It makes your heart flutter. 

“And you have no idea how you feel inside of me… I feel so… full.”

He twitches, and you feel it. 

“You can’t say things like that to me,” he admonishes, but you know he’s not being serious. 

“Why not?”

“Because… I’m trying so fucking hard not to bust a nut this fucking second,” he admits. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He moves inside of you, thrusting and pulling back and then thrusting again, gentle, never rough, even though a part of you wishes to make him lose control and let him do whatever he wants with you. Maybe… maybe another time, if you’re lucky. 

“Tell me… tell me what to do. Teach me.”

A shiver runs down Chris’ spine. 

“Dear god, babygirl,” he drops his face in the crook of your neck. “Fine. Okay. Alright. Just— hook your legs around mine, hm?”

You oblige. He feels even closer now. 

“Good girl,” he praises. “Now try to move your pelvis as if to meet my movements.” 

“Alright.”

“Yeah, like that… feels good, doesn’t it?” 

It feels even better than you thought it would. You still feel a bit sore, yes, but it’s much more pleasant now that you’ve grown accustomed to it. Plus, Chris is being so gentle and sweet… you could never regret asking him to be your first. 

“Can we… can we kiss?” You timidly ask. 

Chris smiles sweetly at you, and without providing an answer, he presses his lips onto yours in a chaste kiss that turns hot and indecent mere seconds later. He intertwines your fingers, asks you to pull his hair as he fucks you. 

“Feels nice?”

“Feels so good, Chris,” you moan, hips meeting his halfway. “Never thought it could feel like this.”

You wonder if it’ll ever be the same with other guys. Probably not, because you’ll never love someone as much as you love Chris. 

“Me neither.”

Chris gets more desperate now, but he’s still so desperately trying not to lose control. You wonder how it’d be like if he just gave in to his impulses. He hooks his arm under your leg, spreads you wider for him, and you sigh. It feels amazing. 

 “You’re amazing, babygirl,” he moans, sinking deeper into you. Deeper and deeper, making you feel every inch of his cock that’s hot and throbbing just for you. “Never want this to end.”

It makes your heart flutter, even though he’s probably just saying that because it’s just sex. Amazing, yeah, but just sex. 

He moves like he knows exactly what he’s doing, stimulating a certain spot inside of you; yet, it’s not enough to make you finish, and he knows it. “Spit,” he demands, albeit sweetly, his fingers close to your mouth. 

You obey, and his lubed up fingers immediately find your puffy clit that’s aching for some attention. It makes you cry out in pleasure. All your life, you’ve been constantly told how men are selfish in bed and they only care about their own pleasure and never the woman’s, but you knew Chris wasn’t like the others. It was obvious since the start. 

“Chris— I’m—”

He smirks, moving his skilled fingers faster. 

“Go on, babygirl. Finish on my cock. Cream it like the good girl you are,” he incites you, and who are you to deny him such pleasure?

You cum on his cock with a cry, feeling yourself pulsing and throbbing down there, as he continues to push inside of you looking for his own release. Finally, he empties himself inside the condom with a low grunt, then collapses on top of you. 

“You did so good, babygirl…” 

He rolls onto his back, dragging you together with him, your head now resting on his chest where you can feel his pounding heartbeat. 

“Was it okay? Did you like it?” He asks. 

You raise your head to look into his warm eyes. “It was perfect,” you say and your heart skips a beat, “thank you.” 

He kisses you, unexpectedly. 

You stay like that for minutes that feel like hours, hugging and kissing, forgetting there’s a world, a life outside of your bedroom. Until you’re brought back to reality by an unexpected thunder, anticipating a violent storm. 

“Shit, it’s really pouring down outside, isn’t it?”

“Mh… looks scary.” 

“Cup of tea and a movie?” He suggests. 

“Yeah, but shower first.”

When you sit on the bed, you hiss at the contact your lower half makes with the mattress, a very present soreness reminding you of what happened mere minutes before. There, on the bedsheets, a small pool of dried up blood. He looks between his legs, the condom is reddish. 

“Shit… did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, babygirl.” 

You shake your head as a no. “No, no, you didn’t,” you smile at him. “You were perfect.”

It’s a mystery how you ended up in the shower together with Chris, but you can’t complain about that, especially with how sweet he acts towards you. You look at him as if he hung the moon and all the man did was take your virginity. And you can’t complain either when, just an hour later, you’re cuddling on the couch, your comfort movie playing softly in the background as you share your favorite and warmest blanket. 

It would be the perfect moment for a love confession, but you’re too much of a coward for that. 

—

You don’t like the way she’s looking at Chris. Like she’s trying to mark her territory, like she’s hunting and your dear best friend is her target prey, grabbing his arm with her perfect blue eyes, flawless skin and high-pitched laughter. No, no, you don’t like it in the slightest. Now, Chris is totally oblivious that you’re dying of jealousy, of course, so he’s reciprocating the girl’s explicit attentions. It makes you sick. 

Chris… your Chris… with someone else. You need air, you need to breathe. 

From the other side of the room, Chris notices something’s up. You look uncomfortable, shifting in your seat, not making eye contact with any of your friends, biting at your fingernails… Something happened, he’s sure of that, but… what exactly? Did someone say something? Are you okay? He needs to know. 

“You okay?” 

It startles you, his voice. You zoned out completely, and didn’t notice he’d excused himself to the girl and immediately came to check on you. 

“Yeah. I’m alright.”

“You suck ass at lying, and you know that,” he remarks. “Now, what happened?” 

“I’m okay, Chan, just go back talking to that girl.”

Chan? You never call him Chan. Chris, Chrissy when you want to tease him, but never Chan. 

“Why would I go talk to her when you’re here and you look uncomfortable?” 

“I’ve been here the whole night and you didn’t care.” 

Chris frowns. 

“That’s not true. I just went to grab something to drink and Scarlett came up to talk to me.” 

“Scarlett.” You huff. 

Now Chris is confused. Why exactly are you mad and why is it such a big deal that he was talking to that girl? 

“Yes, Scarlett,” he repeats, as confused as before. “Are you mad at me, did I do something?” 

You shrug. 

Yes and no. Chris is allowed to talk to anybody he wants, so why does it bother you so much? Because you’re in love with him, hello? And Scarlett is so… different than you. If Chan likes her, it means he could never like someone like you. Right? 

“Come with me,” Chris says, grabbing your hand and exiting the place. He doesn’t want to discuss this matter in front of his and your friends. It’s something that somehow feels private. “Now,” he starts once you’re all alone, “tell me what I did to make you mad.” 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” you give him the side-eye, sounding like a jealous girlfriend even to your own ears. “You begged me to go out and then spent half an hour talking to Scarlett,” you put emphasis on her name. 

He looks at you as if he had a whole different person in front of him. 

“Ignoring you? Wha— I— Ha! Ignoring you!” He’s in disbelief. “I just went to grab a drink!” 

“And talked to Scarlett for half an hour. You didn’t care that I was sitting all alone waiting for you to come back.” 

Have you gone crazy?, Chan thinks. 

“All alone? The guys are there! And your girlfriends, too!” 

“Yes, but I was waiting for you!” 

It makes Chris’ heart skip a beat or two. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it, even though he doesn’t know precisely what he did wrong. “Really, I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean to.” 

You seem to come to your senses, realizing that maybe you overstepped a boundary or something. 

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You have the right to do whatever you want, it’s just that I…” 

Stop it!, a voice inside your head screams. Stop right there! Are you crazy? You want to confess that you got jealous? And then what, maybe tell him that you’re in love with him? Stop! 

And all of a sudden, confessing your feelings seems the only right thing to do. 

“You…?” 

All the courage suddenly leaves your body, but the damage is kind of already done. 

“I got… jealous, I think.” 

“Jealous?” He repeats, heart fluttering inside his ribcage. 

“Hmmh.” 

“You’ve got no reason to be jealous,” he smiles at you. “You know you’re my favorite person in the whole world.” 

You miss his lips and the way they felt pressed on yours, mere nights before, when you were wrapped around him tightly, and he was inside of you. You miss that closeness, that intimacy. You want him desperately, and not just for sex. The good, the bad, the easy and the hard times. 

“Careful what you say, Chrissy,” you chuckle, “you might end up making me fall in love with you or something,” your joke hiding a bigger truth. 

His head snaps up, eyes bore into yours. 

“Would that be too bad?”

“Huh?” 

“If you fell in love with me. Would that be so horrible?” The world pauses. You freeze, heart pounding louder and louder in your ears. “Never mind,” he says after a while, your silence being too much for his hurt pride, for his shattered heart. 

Of course you could never love him, what was he thinking? 

He runs inside before you can even try to stop him. You run after him, but once you reach him he’s already sitting with the guys, and you do not want to make a scene in front of them or shout out a love confession in the middle of the club. You take your place next to Chris, and it’s obvious he’s avoiding you at this point. 

“Chris…” you tap him on the shoulder, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. He’s too embarrassed, you can tell by the tips of his ears that are flushed pink. “Chris…” 

You gather up all the courage in your body for what you’re about to do next. 

Shifting in your seat, you whisper in his ear. “It wouldn’t be horrible at all.” 

He whips his head to meet your eyes, see if you’re serious or if it’s another cruel joke. But no. The light in your eyes confirms that it’s true. He asks you silently, with his own eyes, if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. You grab his hand from under the table and smile at him as you nod. 

“Can we go outside? I need to kiss you real bad,” he whispers in your hair. 

—

“Open your wallets, ladies and gentlemen,” Minho says, cocky as ever, tilting his head in the direction of the closest window. “Ten bucks each, which means… one-hundred and twenty bucks total.” 

Someone protests, others groan in frustration, some of the boys try to argue that he wasn’t playing fair in the first place, because everybody knew the two idiots were in love with each other. 

“So much scene for ten bucks,” Minho huffs. “You’re just sore losers. The bet wasn’t if the two dummies outside were in love with each other or not. The point was whether they were going to kiss tonight or not. And I won.”

“How come does he always win?” Jeongin asks, confused. 

“Guys, look! Ew, that’s disgusting, they’re practically eating each other’s faces at this point!” Jisung comments. 

“Do you think they know we can see them?” 

“Of course not, pabo.” 

“I think they’re gonna fuck,” your girl friend blurts out. 

“Nah, they won’t.”

“Wanna bet?” Lee Minho says.

“Fuck you!” They all scream in unison. 

— 

You never want to stop kissing Chris, but you have to at some point, if you don’t want to die from asphyxia. Both his and your lips are al red and swollen from the kisses, his cheeks flushed pink and yours equally as hot. 

“Take me home,” you whisper on his mouth. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re not done with me yet,” you bite your lip. “You taught me how to have sex… now it’s time for you to teach me how to make love.” 

Chris thinks he’s about to melt. 

Holy shit. 

“Taxi!” He shouts. 

— 

♡

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬! "𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧", 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

[minsung-archived]

LEE KNOW — recording NiziU's love motion challenge @ SKZ-TALKER ep.77

[hyunpic]

[jjungkkook]

I hope it's just us.

bonus:

[itsvminkook]

the love of my life ♡ cr. ouranxingg

[heybaetae]

they are each other's favorite person on earth

[jung-koook]

he looks so husband ♡

[hoshifighting]

reader x younger best friend!chan

after whining to chan about how bad you miss sex post-breakup, your sweet boy makes sure his noona never misses it again

WARNINGS: +18 mdni, penetrative sex, pussy eating, fingering, crying (from pleasure), mention of body fluids (cum/saliva), wrist pinning, clit stimulation, safe sex, overstimulation i guess, and pillow talk.

a/n: i love this pretty man so fucking much :( and im back, slowly but I'm back! love yall, missed you so fucking much <3 hope yall have a nice week!! not revised, 67 idk

it starts in the most ordinary way, which is probably why it stays with you longer than it should. nothing about that night was meant to change anything. it was just you and chan, like always, sitting too close on your couch, a couple of empty beer bottles on the table, music playing low enough that it felt more like a background thought than actual sound. he had come over after work, complaining about something small, you barely remembering what, and you had laughed it off, the way you always did with him, easy and expected.

chan had always been that for you. easy.

you were older, more resolved, more used to the weight of things. he was lighter, softer around the edges, still figuring himself out in ways you had already gone through years ago. and eventually, somehow, he had become your person.  if anything, it showed in the way he listened more carefully than most people your age, in the way he paid attention to details others brushed off, in the way he stayed when conversations got too heavy for everyone else.

so that night, when the conversation drifted the way it did, it didn’t feel strange at first.

you were already a little tipsy, the warmth of the alcohol sitting comfortably in your chest, loosening your thoughts just enough that you stopped filtering them so carefully. he was sitting beside you, legs stretched out, head tilted back against the couch, listening in that careful way he always did, like everything you said mattered more than it probably should.

“you know what’s the worst part?” you said, staring at your bottle, turning it slowly between your fingers.

“hm?” he hummed, not even looking at you, but you knew he was listening.

“breaking up,” you continued, your voice softer now, more honest than you usually allowed yourself to be. “everyone talks about missing the person, or the routine, or whatever… but no one talks about missing the sex.”

that made him glance at you.

you didn’t look back. you just kept talking, because once you started, it felt easier to let it out than to stop. 

when you finally turned your head, he was already watching you, brows slightly drawn together like he was thinking too hard about something.

“what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes a little.

he hesitated.

and that was new.

chan didn’t usually hesitate with you.

he looked down at his hands for a second, then back up “i mean…” he started, voice uncertain. “i could help you with that.”

and for a second, you thought you had heard him wrong.

you blinked. “what?”

he let out a small breath, like he was already regretting saying it, but he didn’t take it back. instead, he looked at you properly this time “i’m just saying,” he continued, slower now, choosing his words more cautiously. “you don’t have to… miss it. if you don’t want to.”

you stared at him, trying to process what he had just said, but your mind kept getting stuck on the same thing. he wasn’t joking. there was no teasing tone, no playful smile, no easy way to brush it off and laugh like you usually would.

he meant it, and suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was, how his knee was almost touching yours, how his arm rested along the back of the couch, just behind you, how his eyes hadn’t left your face since he said it.

“chan…” 

he swallowed, and you noticed it “i know it sounds weird,” he said quickly, a small, nervous laugh slipping out. “i just— i thought… you know. we trust each other. and it wouldn’t have to be a big deal or anything.”

you let out a slow breath, your heart beating a little faster than it should, because the thing is, he wasn’t wrong. you did trust him, more than most people.

“you’re serious…” 

“yeah,” he answered, just as quietly.

you looked at him again, and it hit you in a way it hadn’t before. chan had always been attractive, in that effortless, boyish way you had never let yourself think too much about. it had never mattered, because he was yours in a different way, untouchable in that sense. and it unsettled you, not because it felt wrong, but because it didn’t feel as impossible as it should.

“and then what? we just… go back to normal?”

he hesitated again, but not for long “if that’s what you want,” he said. “yeah.”

you studied him for a moment, searching for something in his expression; doubt, hesitation, anything that would make this easier to dismiss. but all you found was sincerity, because now the choice was yours. you leaned back against the couch, your head resting where his arm was stretched out behind you, and neither of you moved away.

“you’re insane,” you murmured, but there was no bite to it.

he huffed out a quiet laugh. “i’ve been told.”

you closed your eyes for a second, trying to gather your thoughts, but they refused to settle into anything clear. then uou opened your eyes again, turning your head slightly until you were looking at him.

“you really thought this through?” you asked.

he gave a small shrug, “more than i should have, probably.”

and just like that the air between you two shifts thick and heavy like the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to say yes or no. but you dont say shit, you just look at him this easy boy who’s always been your safe place, and something in your chest cracks open. because it feels too real too ordinary to be this charged.

the way his eyes drop to your mouth, then lower, like he’s been thinking about this longer than he let on. you swallow hard heart hammering stupid in your ribs and mutter “okay chan fuck it show me what you got” your voice casual but your thighs press together a little, because you’re already wet just from the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters right now.

he doesn’t waste time, doesn’t make it weird or movie perfect, he just leans in slow his hand sliding up your thigh under the hem of your loose shorts. the calluses on his fingers rough in the best way scraping lightly over your skin, making you shiver and think; shit this is chan,  your chan, the one who brings you coffee without asking.

and now his breath is hot against your inner thigh as he tugs your shorts and panties down in one go, leaving you bare on the couch cushions the cool air hits your pussy, and you feel yourself clench around nothing, already dripping a little because your body’s been waiting for this even if your brain’s still catching up.

he settles between your legs on his knees like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pushing your thighs wider with those big hands, his thumbs digging in just enough to keep you open and exposed, and you watch him watch you. his eyes dark, but still soft around the edges, like he’s checking if you’re okay and that does something stupid to your inside.

he dips his head and drags his tongue flat and slow up your slit, collecting every bit of your slick in one long lazy lick, the wet heat of it makes your hips twitch, and a low “oh shit” slips out of you, because fuck it’s better than you imagined.

the way his tongue feels smooth and warm pressing against your folds, parting them like he’s savoring the taste of you. he moans right into your pussy, the vibration buzzing straight to your clit, making your breath catch.

he does it again, slower this time, circling the tip of his tongue around your entranc, teasing the sensitive skin there before sucking gently at your folds. the soft wet pull of his mouth creating this obscene little suction sound, that fills the room louder than the music still playing low in the background.

and you can hear how wet you are already, the slick sounds of his tongue lapping at your juices like he’s drinking you down, not rushing, his lips seals around your clit and he sucks harder, the pressure building perfect, and filthy the way your clit throbs under the suction like it’s being pulled into the wet heat of his mouth, makes you feel that familiar burn starting low and sharp. the good kind that makes your toes curl against the couch.

he flicks his tongue fast, then slow, alternating between tight little circles, and broad flat strokes that drag over your swollen nub. leaving you gasping as your hand flies down to fist in his hair tugging hard, because chan knows exactly how to work you, like he’s studied every little reaction you might give, and the strangled moan that rips from your throat is nothing like the ones you’ve made alone.

your mind’s spinning, because this is supposed to be just helping out, but it feels too fucking good. the constant schlick schlick of his mouth slurping up your arousal that’s leaking down your thighs, makes you drip onto the couch, but you don’t even care because he’s humming against you like he loves the taste, and it vibrates through your whole pussy making your walls flutter around nothing.

in a blink, his fingers are there. two of them thick and calloused sliding through your folds easily, he pushes one in first slow and deep curling it just right to rub against that spot inside you, that makes your vision blur. the sound it makes is so fucking wet, a loud squelch as he pumps it in and out lazy at first, letting your juices coat his hand completely before adding the second finger.

he's stretching you open, and the burn is perfect, that slight sting mixing with the pleasure as he scissors them apart then curls, both hooking them deep and dragging back out over and over. the rhythm matching, the way his tongue’s still sucking your clit like he’s trying to pull an orgasm right out of you, his fingers thrusting faster, the wet squelching sounds getting louder and messier every time he buries them to the knuckle. 

you’re grinding down on his face without thinking, hips rolling chasing that pressure, because it feels too real, too good, the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, dripping down his wrist, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, even when you tug his hair harder. 

“chan fuck right there don’t stop” your voice all broken and desperate.

he gives the kind of head that ruins you for anyone else, the kind that’s messy and real and so fucking intimate you feel it in your chest too, not just between your legs.

he pulls back just enough to breathe, hot against your soaked pussy, his chin shiny with your juices and he looks up at you eyes half-lidded, you can see the bit of tiredness in his breath, but he looks like he is far from stopping now. 

“you taste so fucking good…” he murmurs, before diving back in tongue fucking into you now alongside his fingers, the combination making your back arch off the couch a choked moan tearing out of you as the wet sounds turn even filthier the constant slick slide of his tongue and fingers working you open.

he pushes you closer and closer and you’re lost in the way your body’s reacting so honest, the burn in your clit from his relentless suction, the deep ache building low in your belly from his fingers curling just right, every thrust dragging more of your wetness out with those loud obscene squelches that make your face heat up, but ends up turning you on even more.

why?

because it’s him doing this to you, your chan, making you fall apart on your own couch like it’s nothing. and you know deep down, this isn’t going back to normal, not after the way he’s devouring you like he’s been starving for it. 

your body locks up tight without warning. the orgasm crashes through you like a goddamn wave you didn’t see coming. your back arches clean off the couch, thighs clamping around chan’s head as that deep burn in your clit explodes into white-hot sparks. 

his tongue still suctioned hard around your swollen nub, pulling every last drop of it out of you, and you cum messy and loud, a broken “oh fuck, chan—” ripping from your throat while your pussy clenches and flutters hard around his fingers, gushing warm slick all over his chin and mouth. 

he moans right into your cunt, loud and deep, like he’s the one falling apart too. his voice vibrating through your pulsing walls, making the aftershocks hit harder. you feel every lick, every swallow as he eats you through it, greedy and filthy, not pulling away even when your hips jerk and twitch, because he’s drinking you down like he can’t get enough. 

the way your mind blanks out completely, just pure heat and mess, and the thought that this is your easy safe chan, now tongue-deep in your pussy moaning like he’s starving for your cum. that alone makes you cum a little harder, he keeps licking you soft and slow through the comedown, his moans turning into these satisfied little hums while your chest heaves and your thighs tremble around his ears.

the second he feels your body start to relax, the tension easing out of your muscles, he’s already moving. no time for you to catch your breath or float down gentle.

he sits up quick, his chin shiny with you, his eyes dark and blown wide, and you watch hazy as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other still stroking your soaked folds like he can’t stop touching you. the metal clink sounds so ordinary against the wet mess between your legs. 

he leans sideways, grabbing his backpack off the floor beside the couch, rummaging fast until he pulls out a condom, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth while his free hand shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip. and you’re still blinking through the fog of your orgasm when he rolls it on quick and messy, not even giving you a second to process before he’s back between your thighs, lining himself up.

your eyes fly open wide the moment you feel the blunt head of his cock push against your dripping entrance, and you arch hard, a needy mewl slipping out as he's right there, pushing in, stretching you open while your pussy’s still fluttering and sensitive from cumming. 

the continuity of it hits you so fucking hard, that full heavy slide right after your orgasm making your walls clamp down around him, greedy and wet. you look up at him then, and his perfect abs are clenching tight with every slow thrust, his shirt rucked up just enough to show the way they flex and roll under his skin. his eyes rolling back a little as he bites down hard on the inside of his mouth, trying to keep it together, and you feel it all, the burn, the stretch, the way he fills you so good it makes your toes curl again.

you mewl at him all sly and breathy,  “let me feel you, channie.” 

he doesn’t even hesitate. he grabs your hand quick, sliding it up under his shirt right over those warm clenching abs, letting your palm drag across the hard ridges of muscle while he leans down over you, his chest pressing close. 

his mouth is on yours, swallowing the loud moan that rips out of you the second he bottoms out deep. the kiss is messy and desperate, muffling how fucking loud you get because the stretchand the way his cock throbs inside your still-spasming pussy is too much, balls deep buried inside you, while he's kissing you stupid while your nails dig into his abs and your hips roll up to meet him like you never want this ordinary night to end.

every second surprises you,  like he’s reading your body better than you ever could. right when you think you’ve caught your breath from that first deep thrust, chan grabs both your wrists in one big hand and locks them above your head against the couch cushion, pinning you down easy and firm. his other palm slides flat over your lower belly, pressing hard right where his cock is buried inside you, and fuck the pressure skyrockets.

you feel him thicker, deeper, the head of his dick dragging against that spot with every tiny movement, like he’s molding your insides around him on purpose. your eyes squeeze shut and a broken sob slips out, tears already pricking hot at the corners because it’s too much and not enough all at once.

“chan— oh my god,” you choke, voice cracking into nothing but wet mewls. 

you can feel it in the way his hips snap harder, grinding that perfect pressure against your belly from the outside while he rails you from the inside, like he wants to erase every lonely night you spent missing this exact feeling. every thrust punches the air out of you, wet slaps echoing loud between your bodies, your slick coating his ballsack and dripping down your ass with every pull back. your pussy flutters and squeezes around him so tight it almost hurts.

he leans down close, lips brushing your ear, and gives you that pretty white smile you’ve seen a thousand times, only now it’s filthy and soft at the same time. “i know, baby,” he murmurs in the prettiest voice, all low and sweet and a little breathless, like he’s savoring the way you fall apart for him. “i know it’s good. gonna make sure you never miss this shit again.”

before you can even try to answer, he pulls out sudden and smooth, flips you over like you weigh nothing, and yanks your hips up so you’re on all fours. your knees sink into the couch, ass up, back arched, and he’s sliding back in before you can whine at the loss.

the new angle hits even deeper, his cock dragging along your walls with every brutal thrust, your pussy taking him so loud it fills the whole room. 

you can only mewl, over and over, face buried in the cushion, tears slipping free now “s’good— chan, s’good, please— s’good—”

he laughs soft and fond behind you, that same lovely voice wrapping around the words as he rails you harder, hips snapping in strong rolls  “yeah? that’s my girl. just take it, baby. let me fuck all that missing right out of you.” his abs clench tight every time he bottoms out, balls slapping wet against your clit, and you’re crying into the fabric, body shaking, this night just turning into the kind of sex that rewires your brain, and chan’s the one doing it with that stupidly sweet smile and those relentless hips.

you don’t even remember what you were complaining about anymore. all you know is his cock, his hands, his voice telling you he knows, and the way your pussy keeps gushing around him like it never wants him to stop.

it tightens in your belly again without any warning, that familiar coil pulling so fast and so fucking tight you’re actually impressed by how quick another orgasm is already building up, like your body’s been starving for this exact feeling and chan’s the only one who knows how to unlock it. 

you don’t even moan anymore. your mouth just drops open in a wide, silent ‘o’, eyes squeezed shut as hot tears slip down your cheeks and you sob without sound, the pleasure so overwhelming it steals every noise right out of your throat. your whole body shakes on all fours, knees sinking deeper into the couch while chan keeps railing you from behind.

his hand sneaks under you then, sliding between your trembling thighs, and he sinks his fat cock completely inside you in one hard thrust, bottoming out so deep the pressure in your belly spikes even higher. his fingers find your swollen clit and start flicking it fast, tight little circles that make your vision spark white. “that’s it, baby, cum on my cock, let me feel you.”

you can’t even answer, just sob silently into the cushion as the orgasm rips through you hard and sudden, your pussy clamping down around him like a vice, squeezing and fluttering so tight it drags him right over the edge with you. he groans deep in his chest, hips stuttering as he cums hard inside the condom, thick pulses you can still feel through the latex while your walls milk him for everything he’s got.

your arms give out completely after that. you can’t even keep yourself on all fours anymore, you just collapse belly-down onto the couch, face buried in the cushion, ass still slightly up because he’s still buried inside you, breathing hard against your back. 

chan stays there for a second, chest pressed to your spine, then he lets out a soft little scoff under his breath, quiet enough that he thinks you won’t hear it, like he’s trying so hard not to make you feel embarrassed about how fast and how hard you just fell apart for him. 

but you do hear it, and it makes something warm bloom in your chest because it’s so fucking him. he pulls out slow and careful, already reaching for something to clean you up like this was never supposed to be a big deal, even though both of you know it just changed everything in the best goddamn way.

[...]

after the quick bath you two took, with chan’s arm wrapped tight around your waist the whole time because your legs were still wobbling like a damn newborn deer, you both ended up freshly showered and completely naked under the fat, hot, white duvet. the room smelled like your coconut soap mixed with his skin, and the only light came from the stupid little lamp on the side table that you always forget to turn off. 

you were curled into his chest, one leg thrown lazily over his thigh, his arm heavy and warm around your back, like he couldn’t stop touching you even now.

you felt boneless and floaty while kssing him, pussy still tingling from everything he did, a lazy throb between your legs that made you shift a little closer. the kiss slows down naturally, like neither of you is in a rush anymore. his mouth moves against yours with a patience that makes your chest ache. you can still taste him, still feel the warmth of him. by the time you both pull back, it’s only enough to breathe, your foreheads brushing, noses barely touching, lips still ghosting each other like neither of you wants to let go fully.

“hey,” 

you tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him. “hm?”

his fingers pause for a second, then resume, slower this time. “i need you to know something.”

you don’t say anything, but you feel your chest tighten a little, your attention sharpening.

“this… tonight,” he continues, searching for the right words, “it wasn’t just me trying to help you feel better… or distract you or anything like that.”

you study his face.

“i care about you,” he says, more quietly. “a lot more than i probably should.”

you let out a small breath, your cheek still pressed against him, but your eyes don’t leave his.

he gives you that small smile, the one you’ve seen a hundred times, his hand comes up to brush a damp strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering just slightly against your cheek.

“i’m not… using you,” he adds, almost like he needs to make it clear. “that’s not what this is for me. you’re not just… this.” he gestures faintly between you, then lets his hand settle back against you.

you swallow, your throat tight in a way you weren’t expecting.

“you’re the person i go to,” he continues, “when my day’s bad. when something good happens. when i don’t feel like being around anyone else. you’ve been that for me for a while.”

you shift slightly, your fingers curling lightly against his side, grounding yourself.

“i like you,” he says, more simply this time. “not just like this. just… you.”

there’s a pause, but it’s not empty. you lift your head a little more, your faces closer now, your breath mixing with his. your nose brushes his, and for a second neither of you moves. “i just didn’t want to go back to pretending,” he adds, almost under his breath.

your chest tightens again, but this time it’s warmer.

“and what are you asking for?” you ask.

he looks at you properly now, his expression open in a way that makes it impossible to look away.

“more than just tonight,” he says. “if you want that too.”

your gaze drops for a second, your thoughts catching up to you, then you look back at him.

“you’re serious,” you say.

“i am.”

you let out a slow breath, your hand shifting slightly against him. “and if i say no?” you ask, not because you mean it, but because you need to hear it.

his expression softens even more. “then nothing changes unless you want it to.”

that answer sits with you. you lean in without overthinking it, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. it’s slower this time. when you pull back, you stay close, your forehead resting against his. “you make this very hard to ignore,” you murmur.

he smiles faintly, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek again. “that’s kind of the problem, yeah.”

[joyracha]

feels like home

you’re broke and you move in with a friend of a friend, changbin, to save money, and he's exactly your type

pairing: roommate!changbin x fem!reader genre: roommates to lovers, fluff, smut content: reader is down bad (same), light food play, light temperature play, dry humping, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (p in v), pet names, aftercare, minsung mention (i can't help myself) word count: 5.9k a/n: my writing slump is over mwahaha! this one kinda got out of hand but i hope everything makes sense and you all enjoy! ♡ ♡ m.list

When you lost your job, the first place you had to cut costs was rent. Which fucking sucked, because you hardly know anyone in the city as it is, and the people you did know didn’t need a roommate.

Enter Changbin. He’s a friend of a friend, clean enough, and is always out of the house. Busy guy, your friend Jisung tells you.

“You want me to live with a guy?” you ask your friend over the phone.

“He’s like a walking green flag, calm down. Nice guy, really. He won’t bother you and he’s loaded so he’ll give you a deal,” Jisung explains over the phone. “And those muscles aren’t half bad to stare at.”

“Are you trying to set me up with your friend?” 

“No! I mean, listen, you could use a good lay, but my intentions are pure, I swear!”

You’ve been single for far too long, and Jisung knows that. But the last thing you need is to hook up with the guy who’s supposed to be your new roommate. Whom you don’t even know, by the way.

“I can’t just sleep on yours and Minho’s couch until I find another place?” you ask, hoping to get out of it.

“Absolutely not,” he says sternly. “Changbin is a nice guy, and plus, you wouldn’t want to live here. Minho doesn’t wear pants, like, ever.”

Fine. You’ll take his word for it.

You show up the next day to look at the room. Changbin opens the door and greets you with a smile. Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Uh, hello! You must be Changbin,” you greet him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jisung has told me a lot about you!”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry to hear about your job,” he says. “I’m happy to help if I can.” He steps aside to let you into the apartment.

Jesus Christ, his place is massive. The ceilings have to be at least 15 feet tall, and the massive windows in the living room span the entire wall. It has the most incredible view of the Han River, and you’re almost positive the kitchen counters are 100% marble. And it’s certainly out of your price range.

“The spare room is this way,” he says, motioning down the hallway past the kitchen. He leads you through the apartment, and you catch a glimpse of an office space with a desk covered in music production gear.

The bedroom is huge in comparison to what you’re used to. There’s so much natural light, your houseplants would be in heaven. You could probably fit the entirety of your belongings in this room alone. There’s even a walk-in closet, which you have never, ever had before. It’s great, perfect even, and you’d move in immediately if you could afford it.

“Do you like it?” Changbin asks from the doorway as you’re walking around the room.

You let out a big sigh. “It’s perfect, truly, but it’s definitely out of my price range.” What a shame. A beautiful apartment and a hot roommate? It hurts to walk away from.

“No price,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re in a tight spot, I get it. Don’t even worry about it for the first few months, then you can just pay what you’re comfortable with.”

You stare at him, completely dumbfounded. “I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, shaking your head back at him.

“I’m happy to help. Any friend of Jisung’s is a friend of mine. I mean it, no backpaying needed, let’s just get you on your feet.”

You could kiss him right now, and you just met him. It’s the kindest offer you could ever have dreamed of, especially coming from a complete stranger. You’d normally be wary of something like this, it’s almost too good to be true. But Jisung’s known him for years, and you trust him more than anyone else in the world.

“That’s extremely generous of you, thank you,” you say. “Really, you’re saving me from a much worse fate.”

“It’s no problem, really. I can help you move your stuff, too.”

You almost want to cry tears of joy. Changbin walks you to the door and you say thank you, again, and plan to move in later this week.

The cab hasn’t even pulled away from the building when you call Jisung again.

“I hate you,” you tell him when he picks up the phone.

“What did I do?” he whines.

“You didn’t tell me your friend was hot.”

“I said he had nice muscles!”

You groan into the speaker. You love your friend, but now you’re sure he’s trying to set you up.

“He is, quite literally, exactly my type, Jisung.”

“I’m struggling to find the issue.”

You groan again. “I’m not supposed to want to fuck my roommate,” you say, lowering your voice.

He howls out a laugh. “So you’re taking it, right? His offer?”

“He’s not charging me anything.”

“Yeah, I know. I told you he’s rich.”

It’s still an insane thing to offer a complete stranger. But right now, you’ll take your luck wherever you can get it. Even if that means moving in with a roommate who looks like he’ll get you into a whole lot of trouble.

You moved in two days later, and it was the least stressful move-in day you’ve ever had. Jisung had helped you pack the day before, although he mostly just stood around handing you things to wrap and commenting on your weird trinkets. Changbin had called a truck for you, and also called over Jisung and their friend Chan to help unload it. You didn’t lift a damn finger, but you did buy them a pack of beers to share for the trouble. 

“You really don’t have a lot of stuff,” Changbin comments when all of your boxes and furniture are in your room. Most of the furniture in your old apartment was your roommate’s, but it feels weird all laid out in front of you like this.

“Yeah…I don’t even have a bed frame…” You pout, as the two of you stand in the doorway. You survey what you do have, and it’s not much. An old wood dresser you got from a thrift store, your full-size mattress, and a single nightstand you had in college.

You let out a big sigh. You don’t have much unpacking to do, but you’re a bit drained from the stress, and you’d like to at least lie down for a bit.

“Don’t worry about dinner,” Changbin says as he heads out into the hallway. “I can whip something up for us. I’ll leave you to unpack your things.”

He’s been so kind, and it almost distracts you from the fact that you’re living with a stranger. And that you lost your job. That part still sucks. But you can’t lie, he is really nice to look at. There’s nothing wrong with looking.

Forty-five minutes later, Changbin lets you know that dinner is ready. You’ve been able to smell it the entire time packing, and it smells divine. The spread is pork belly, rice, kimchi, and several other side dishes you’re not used to seeing outside of a restaurant. You’re used to living off of ramen, which makes this a five-star meal. 

“Thank you so much, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you say, taking your seat at the island counter.

He lets out a huff of air through his nose. “Uh, this is just how I eat normally.”

“Oh, right…well, still, thank you.” You almost forgot. He’s rich. And apparently, eats like a king daily. 

“You’re welcome.” He sends you a soft smile and joins you at the island counter.

The two of you get to chatting, and you learn a lot about him. He works with Jisung and Chan at his producing studio and is a personal trainer at the gym on the side. He lives alone because, well, he wants to.

You’re unemployed, but he already knows that.

“Sorry for ruining your peaceful atmosphere,” you joke, but there’s a part of you that feels like maybe he said yes because Jisung owed him something.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, really. It’s nice having someone around. It was getting lonely around here. I almost got a dog. And I’m allergic.” 

The evening dissolves into laughter, and you get the feeling that this won’t be as strange as you thought.

It takes several days, but you finally get your stuff out of boxes and organize it the way you like it. Your bedspread is hastily thrown over the floor mattress and your clothes don’t even fill half of the giant closet. You feel out of place, but you shake the feeling and try to be grateful. 

Overall, living with Changbin is really great. You’re home quite a bit, only really leaving the house to pick up food or going to a job interview. He’s pretty busy, like Jisung told you, but he’s home most evenings.

You’re usually watching some tv show, and he takes a second out of his day to sit down and chat with you. It’s nice to have company, your old roommate wasn’t much of a talker. But with Changbin, it’s easy, and nothing feels forced.

“I can’t believe they’re back together again,” he comments as you’re watching a tv show. He mentioned he was never one for dramas like this, but he’d hover behind the couch when you’d watch it out in the living room, making jokes at the stupid situations the characters got themselves into. It took only a week for him to ask you to restart it from the beginning so he could watch the whole thing. You started looking forward to the evenings after that, waiting for him to get back from the gym for your nightly watch party.

The first moment you realize you maybe, possibly, might have a crush on your roommate is during one evening in the kitchen. You can smell something cooking from your room, and it smells delicious, you can’t help but peek around the corner to see what it is. 

Changbin’s at the stovetop cooking, still in his gym outfit, muscles peeking through the fabric. You try not to drool at the sight, quietly walking over to him to see what he’s making. He jumps a bit as he sees you.

“Sorry!” you say apologetically. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, dipping his spoon into the soup he was making. “Can you try this for me? I feel like it needs more salt.”

He takes a couple of steps closer to you, holding his hand under the spoon to catch the drip. You don’t even have a chance to decline before he’s bringing the spoon closer to your face, urging you to take a sip. He blows on it a couple of times to cool it before bringing it to your lips. He’s standing so close, you feel your stomach tie into a knot. You take a sip slowly and carefully, taking note of the flavors. 

“No, I think it’s perfect,” you say, licking your lips. You’re probably not just talking about the soup, but he smiles and thanks you for being his taste tester.

You push any and all thoughts of what those lips might feel like against yours to the side. Roommate, you remind yourself.

The second time is when you bump into him in the hallway, he just showered and has a towel wrapped low around his waist.

“Oh, god! I’m so sorry!” Your eyes naturally drift across his torso, still wet from the shower, before realizing you should definitely not be staring. You shield your eyes and move around him. 

“Sorry! Not used to living with other people.” He scurries into his room and shuts the door. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, and quickly go back to your bedroom. 

You tell yourself it’s just the proximity, that anyone would be feeling this way if they had an attractive roommate parading around half naked. He’s your roommate, you remind yourself. He’s been so kind to you, and he doesn’t deserve the less than respectful stares you’ve been giving him. It’s a temporary situation after all, and it’ll continue to be a good one so long as you don’t cross any lines.

The third time was when it really hit you. You came home from another awful job interview to the sound of tools clanking and something pounding against the floor. Changbin’s room was off to the left of the living room, but the sound was coming from the right. Where your room is.

You set your bag down on the floor and quietly kick off your shoes before rounding the corner. Your bedroom door was propped open, light on, and the banging sounds were coming from in there. 

You’re not sure what you expected to find. Maybe Changbin would be patching some drywall you chipped off by accident. Or maybe the screws on your ceiling fan loosened, and he was tightening them for you.

Changbin’s sitting in the middle of a bunch of pieces of wood, holding a screwdriver in his mouth and fumbling with paper. He didn’t even hear you walk into the house. 

“Uh…hi?” you say to him, standing in the doorway. 

“Oh, hi,” he says, taking the screwdriver from between his teeth and laying the paper to the side.

“Whatcha doin'?”

“Building a bed frame.”

“I see that…why?”

“You didn’t have one.”

“Okay…”

“So I’m building you one.”

“Why?” you question him, one eyebrow raised.

“You’re sleeping on a mattress on the floor,” he says, like the answer is obvious.

“I know, but I could’ve done this myself.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you.”

You feel guilty immediately. You don’t want to be seen as some charity case that someone has to take in and look after, like a burden. “Thank you…I can pay you back for this—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “Think of it as a housewarming gift.” He smiles at you as he turns back to the instructions.

“It’s your apartment…” 

“Please just let me do something nice for you.”

“You’re already being nice by letting me stay here!” 

He stands up as you say that, walking towards you, still grinning. His hands come up to your shoulders, and he meets your eyes. “I want to do this.”

You gulp. He’s standing so close you can smell his body wash. His gaze is intense, but you can’t look away. You resort to a nod and a small “thank you”, and he turns to continue working on the bed frame.

“At least let me help you—” You cut yourself off this time when he gives you the biggest sigh, and looks at you like you already know what he’s going to say.  You have a crush on your roommate. Your handsome, incredibly fit, incredibly rich, generous, and kind roommate. What could go wrong?

Everything feels different after that.

You find yourself thinking of him all the time, wanting to make sure you’re already home when he gets home, spending as little time in your bedroom as possible just to hang out with him. You swear you feel him doing it, too. 

It starts innocently. First, he’s grazing the small of your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen. He bumps into you in the hall and grabs your waist to move past you. Your thighs touch his on the couch, and neither of you moves. Plausible deniability.

Until the air conditioning breaks in the middle of a heat wave. Because, of course it would. Now you’re forced to watch him walk around the apartment shirtless and dripping in sweat. Forced is a strong word. More like, your eyes are blessed every waking hour until this gets fixed. Which doesn’t seem to be any time soon, considering the whole city’s affected by rolling blackouts and HVAC issues.

You’re convinced he was put on this earth just to torture you. It’s impossible, really, to be that attractive and walk around like he doesn’t even know it. 

You’re hyper aware of every movement he makes. A drag through his damp hair, him leaning against the counter, muscles flexing. You make every earnest effort not to look, but you can’t help it.

“I’m no better than a man,” you groan, flopping on the bed.

“What’s wrong now?” Jisung asks on the other end of the phone. You had to tell someone, and he’s the one person you feel comfortable enough with who knows you both. 

“Changbin. Shirtless. Like all the time. The AC went out.”

“Again, I’m struggling to see the issue. Dude’s hot, I get it.”

“He’s. My. Roommate.” Emphasis on roommate.

“You’re both single, I don’t see anything wrong with it.” He has a point. “I’m sure if he was uncomfortable, he would’ve said something.”

“I want him to crush my head with his biceps.” The heat is irritating you, and you have no filter. Not that you ever do with Jisung. 

“Jesus Christ, you hornball,” Jisung laughs on the other line. “Maybe you just need to get it out of your system.”

“What?”

“Put a dick in it!” Minho’s voice rings through the speaker. Of course Jisung told him. You’re not even mad, but you’re caught off guard by the statement.

“What?”

“Minho’s right. There’s so much tension built up, you’re psyching yourself out. If you just…put a dick in it…it might go away!”

“I’m not sure about that.” At this point, you wonder if it’s even about how attractive Changbin is, or if you’re starting to genuinely like him. 

“C’mon, you could both use a fun one-night stand. And you wouldn’t even have to leave the apartment!”

“Jisung, he built me a fucking bed frame.”

“Oh.” Yeah, oh. “Ohhhh, I get it. You like him!” You groan at him, again.

“What do I do?” Your hand drags across the side of your face. Hearing Jisung say it out loud makes it real, and now you’re panicking. 

“Girl up! Go get your man!”

You don’t even know what he means by that, and you don’t know if you should even try. Jisung’s just being a good friend, supportive of all your delusions. All you know is that it’s fucking hot in here, but if you see Changbin shirtless one more time, you might accidentally pounce on him.

You peek down the hallway to check that the coast is clear before tiptoeing your way to the kitchen to grab a cold glass of water. You bring the glass up to your face, the condensation running down your forehead and cheek, offering a little relief from the heat. It’s not nearly enough to cool you down, though. You place the glass on the island behind you and open the fridge and freezer doors, and just stand there, eyes closed, taking in the cool air.

“Feeling okay?” You hear Changbin’s voice on the other side of the fridge. And you’re standing with your head inside the fridge looking like an idiot.

You whip the door closed and find him leaning just on the other side of it against the wall, still half-clothed, skin shiny from the heat.

“Oh! Yeah, I was just getting some water,” you sputter out. You’re focusing on his face, and the way sweat is dripping from his hairline, doing anything to desperately not let your eyes wander too far south. You’re trying really hard to be respectful.

It’s like he can hear your thoughts. After a few moments of silence, he lets out a breathy laugh, rubbing his hands through his damp hair. His biceps flex, and you force yourself to grab your glass of water and walk into the living room before you combust.

Your thighs stick to the leather cushions as you sit down. It’s fucking miserable in here, the air is choking you every chance it gets. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any harder to breathe, Changbin comes and sits down next to you. He looks at you, brows furrowed, concerned.

Without saying anything, he leans over and places the back of his hand on your forehead. The movement startles you, and the warmth of his hand hitting your damp forehead sends a buzz through your body.

“You’re overheating,” he says simply, before getting up and going to his room. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, staring down the hall in confusion. You can hear him rustling around in his room, and a few minutes later, he comes out with a giant fan in hand.

He walks over to the wall to plug it in and angles it towards where you’re sitting on the couch. “There,” he says proudly. “Sorry, I only have the one.”

“Thank you,” you manage to mumble. The air feels good as it hits your skin, even if it’s a bit warm. He keeps standing there for a second, just watching, making sure it’s working properly before walking back into the kitchen.

You sip your water, flipping through various apps on your phone, trying not to think about the heat or the half-naked man in the kitchen. He walks back a couple of seconds later, two popsicles in hand. He unwraps one and hands it to you, plopping back down on the couch.

You’re trying really, really hard to focus on whatever show Changbin decided to throw on. He leans forward in his seat, absentmindedly licking over the sweet treat, and you can’t help but stare. You catch yourself and tear your eyes away, hoping he didn’t notice.

He leans back to make a comment, his knee brushes against yours, and you feel like you’re going to combust. You don’t dare move, hoping he doesn’t notice your skin touching his. Your eyes keep drifting back to him, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. His shorts are tight against his thighs, and you can see the faint outline of his muscles through them. His stomach and chest are on display, thick and firm. His arms are always out, probably as thick as your entire head, and his lips—

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Your eyes dart up to his, and he’s looking at you. He definitely just saw you staring. Fuck.

“N-no! No, you’re good.” Nice save. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He finishes his popsicle and throws the stick on the coffee table with the remaining trash.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low and far too casual.

“Yeah, it’s just—hot.” You don’t know if you’re talking about the literal temperature of the room, him, or both.

“It’s melting.” He nods his head towards the abandoned popsicle in your hand. You haven’t even taken a single bite, just letting it melt down your wrist. God, you’re so down bad for him, it’s not even funny anymore.

You snap out of whatever trance you were in previously and look at your hand. “Shit.” You chuckle a bit, and your face grows even warmer from embarrassment.

“Let me help.” He smiles at you, inching even closer. He takes the popsicle from your hand and pulls your arm closer to him. Before you can even register what’s happening, he brings your wrist to his mouth and licks the cold juice off with a slow movement.

“It’s sweet,” he comments. What the fuck. Your eyes are locked with his as he cleans you up with his mouth, moving slowly over your palm, before taking two of your fingers in his mouth and sucking slowly. He’s watching your reaction intently. Your lips part, and your thighs press together on instinct as a heat begins to grow inside your body.

“Thank you…,” your voice trails off. You don’t know whether you should move closer or run back into your room screaming.

“This fans not really cutting it, huh?” He gestures to the hunk of metal in the corner. You shake your head with a laugh, because as hard as it’s trying, it’s doing jack shit to help with the actual temperature of the room.

“Lean forward.” He’s fully turned to face you now, one leg folded between the two of you. He gestures for you to move closer, and you do. “Close your eyes.” Your eyes snap shut, painfully aware of how you didn’t even bother to ask why. Your curiosity is getting the better of you. 

He takes the popsicle you didn’t really eat and brings it to your collarbone. The cold sensation against your warm skin makes you gasp, but you keep your eyes closed. He traces a line with the tip of the treat along your collarbone, and you can feel it dripping down your chest. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps raising along your whole body. 

“Better?” he whispers. You nod your head, unable to form the words, and he continues to drag the popsicle along your skin, bringing it lower to the swell of your breast. The cold trickle down your skin feels really good in this heat, but there’s a growing ache between your legs you can’t stop thinking about.

The empty stick lands on the coffee table, and your eyes snap open. You’re breathing heavier than is considered normal, and Changbin is inches from your face. His eyes are tracing down your neck, watching the liquid drip down under your tank top.

“Can I?” he asks, leaning closer. Again, you nod your head, watching as he leans in. His mouth meets your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to lap up the mess. You shudder under his touch, and your hands fly up to his shoulders. Everything is hot—his mouth, his skin, your body. 

You moan as he works his way between your breasts, throwing your head back. Your brain is foggy, only able to focus on him. 

“Is this okay?” he says softly against your skin. The cool air hits the spots he’s licked away, sending tingles through your body. You nod aggressively, squeezing his shoulders to ask for more.

He leans you back against the couch’s armrest, moving a pillow behind you, before he dips back down to lap at your neck. The mess has been mostly cleaned up, but you’re both too worked up to stop.

He’s sucking softly at your skin, and his hands trail under your tank top. You moan under his touch, pulling him closer to you. He props himself up above you, looking you in the eyes. He pauses a moment, as if asking for permission. You give him a slight nod, and he closes the gap, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is slow, tentative, careful, as if he hadn’t just had his whole tongue on you moments before. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he moans into your mouth when you tug lightly.

It grows heated quickly. Your legs wrap around his body, encouraging him to put his weight on you. His hand moves further up, squeezing your breast. Every movement makes the heat in your belly grow, and you buck your hips up against him, chasing any kind of friction.

“Bin…please,” you whisper. “More...”

Your hands trail down his sides, guiding his hips down to meet yours. He grinds against you, and you feel him through his shorts, thick and hard. You can feel your insides burning, and you’re already wet for him. He swallows your moans and sits up to pull you onto his lap.

Your lips meet again, moving sloppier and faster than before. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper at the feeling. His hands are everywhere—your chest, your ass, your thighs. He’s grabbing and kneading at your skin, sending a buzz through you. 

“You made it…so hard not to touch you,” he grunts between kisses. “Walking around…in those shorts…no bra.” The words give you a fluttering feeling. You had sensed the attraction wasn’t one-sided, but hearing him say it out loud brought feelings of relief and excitement.

“Says you,” you say, hands drifting down his chest. “I’ve been fighting for my life since I moved in.”

That earns a chuckle from him. He moves to lift your tank top off and licks away any remnants of popsicle juice that might still be left on your chest. He moves to suck on one of your nipples, holding the other in his hand. He sucks a little harder, and the slight sting has your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. He gives your other breast the same treatment, and you grind down in his lap to relieve the tension between your legs.

“More?” he asks. 

You nod your head. “Yes—fuck, please, God yes.” 

He shuffles under you to slide down his shorts and boxers, revealing his thick cock to you. You almost choke on your own spit because, fuck, he’s girthy.

You slide off his lap to discard your shorts and underwear. You climb back in his lap, spit in your palm, and bring it to his length. You stroke him gently, watching him intently as his head falls back against the couch.

“Shit—that feels so good,” he moans. You lean forward to kiss his neck, gently sucking on the sensitive spot there. He moans louder, egging you in, and you move your hand faster. 

“You’re so big, Bin.” You nibble at his earlobe and whisper low. “If I’d have known, I would’ve pounced on you a lot sooner.”

“Don’t say that to me right now .” He’s smiling, but there’s a serious undertone in his voice. “Or I’m gonna come.”

And you’d love nothing more. But before you get the chance to increase your pace, he grabs your wrist tight and yanks it away. You don’t even get the chance to protest before he’s dragging his fingers through your folds.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out as he slips two fingers inside of you. You fall onto his chest, squeezing his shoulders tight. Your head starts to spin as he increases his pace, and you can hear how wet you are. 

“You sound so pretty,” he whispers in your ear. “So warm and wet.” He’s still fucking into you at a relentless pace, and the heat in your body is reaching to its peak.

“Bin, fuck, I’m gonna—,” you cry, gripping him for dear life. Just then, he slows his pace down, leaving you whining at your denied orgasm.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he says. “I want to feel you come around me, if you’ll let me.” You lean back to look at him, his eyes begging you for more. You nod your head quickly and bring him in for a kiss. He kisses you back gently, slowly easing his fingers out. You whine at the loss, but he’s soon moving you into a better position.

You prop yourself up on your knees, keeping your balance on his shoulders, as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Ready?” he asks, gripping your waist. You reply with a quick “mhm” and take a deep breath.

You lower yourself down slowly as he guides you onto his cock, moaning in unison as the head enters you. The stretch stings a bit, but it feels so good.

“You’re taking me so well,” he says, letting out a deep breath and flashing you a smile. Inch by inch, you take him, feeling him nice and deep inside you. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he helps you rock back and forth.

“S-so big—,” you whine, your forehead falling against his. Your foreheads are still damp from the heat, skin still sticky from a mixture of sweat, popsicle, and spit. “Fuck, Bin—faster.”

Your legs are already shaking at his sides, and he takes over. His hands squeeze your hips hard as he thrusts up into you, fast and rough.

“So fuckin’ tight, baby,” he grunts. The sounds of him smacking against you fill the room. Your cunt is soaked, and you can feel the heat in your belly bubbling back up again.

“Close, close,” you warn him, and your head falls to his shoulder. 

He wraps one arm around you tightly and moves his hand to your clit. His fingers make quick but gentle circles around your nub, and you’re seeing stars.

“Oh—fuck! Changbin!” you cry out as the heat boils over, sending shockwaves through your body. Your entire body spasms around him, and you feel yourself leaking around him.

He fucks you through the aftershocks, careful to be gentle and not overstimulate you. But you want him to feel good, too. You need him to.

You brace yourself to take control and ride him in earnest. You’re slamming into his cock, sensitivity be damned. He’s moaning your name through it, holding onto you. You feel him twitch inside of you, and you know that he’s close.

“Come for me, Bin,” you moan in his ear. “Fill me up.”

He breaks seconds later, filling you up with his hot white liquid. You slow your pace until he finishes, and collapse against his chest. You’re both breathing heavily, sweaty bodies pressed together.

“You’re incredible,” he breathes out, rubbing your back. 

You sit up straight to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands. “That was…so good…God, you’re so hot.” He smiles at your compliment, kissing you back.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

He helps you off of him, and you try to keep everything from leaking out of you. He leads you into his bathroom and warms up the water. He cleans you up gently, even helping you wash your hair.

You both dry off and grab some clean pjs from your room before meeting back in the living room.

He plops down on the couch next to you, and his arm reaches around you to pull you close. It’s still hot as fuck in your apartment, but you wouldn’t dare move away. You can’t help but giggle at the situation that’s unfolded.

“What?” he asks, laughing with you even though he’s not sure why.

“Jisung said I needed to get laid,” you chuckle. “He’s going to have a field day when he finds out.”

“He’s one to talk,” Changbin laughs. “He’s been crushing on Minho for years and hasn’t done a thing about it.”

“I know, right? God, he’s so blind that poor boy’s in love with him.”

You spend a good amount of time just cuddling and talking on the couch. It feels really, really nice. You’re not exactly sure what any of it means, but you know you want it to keep going.

“Bin,” you whisper after the conversation comes to a lull.

“Hmm?” he hums.

“This is…nice. I know this living situation is only temporary—”

“Temporary?” he asks, looking at you with a confused expression. “I never said it was temporary.”

“Oh.” You look back at him with the same confusion written on your face. “I just thought you might want your space back.”

He adjusts himself so he’s looking directly at you, and holds both of your hands in his. “You moved into my space, my home, and into my heart. I never want you to leave.”

The confession makes your face grow hot again. You’re giddy and glad that this wasn’t a one-time thing. “Okay,” you manage to squeak out. “I won’t leave.” 

He leans forward to kiss you, and a warm, fuzzy feeling washes over you. Home. This feels like home.

“What now?” you ask, leaning back against the couch.

“Hmmm…” He thinks for a moment. “We could break in your new bed frame.” “Absolutely.”

permanent taglist: @11racha @jisuperboard @kloversung @sourtae @binniebb @b4echo @hanjinology @lynsbng @eyyyylucieeee @bbyyuuu @viisstrayy @starlostjisung @stryscribbles @miniseungkimcami

[jung-koook]

jungkook being silly behind namjoon and yoongi 😂🥹

[jung-koook]

LOOK AT HIM 😩