enemies to lovers-ish with jungkook. this is possibly (probably) a part 1 😜
“I’m telling you dude, there is no way that chick in there is related to Kim Taehyung. Absolutely not,” Jungkook hisses and Jimin laughs, carding a hand through orange locks before handing him a beer, “I have never met a girl like that in my entire life.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jimin snorts. “Makes things interesting.”
“She’s a lost cause. I can doll her up all I want but unless I can seal her mouth shut she’d probably have an orgasm in Klingon if she even gets that far.” Jungkook scoffs.
Jimin sends him a confused expression and Jungkook sighs deeply, “The language in Startrek? Don’t tell me you’ve never watched it. They even had a reboot—“
“Look Kookie, it’s your loss not mine alright? But you should know the pots at a grand,” Jimin nudges him, “Cheerleaders wanted in.”
Jungkook’s expression pinches in unease, “You told the cheerleaders about the bet?”
“Well yeah,” Jimin scoffs, “why wouldn’t I?”
“Because Taehyung’ll kick your ass once he finds out you made a bet I could take his sisters virginity before the end of the semester.” Jungkook informs blandly.
“No more than he’ll kick yours,” Jimin grins, “Besides you need to lighten up. Taehyung deserves what’s coming to him. I told you he slept with Lisa right? He violated bro code but more importantly the fraternity rules which means he’s fair game and so is ___ by association. He really should’ve thought about how his actions would effect others.”
Jungkook’s lip curls in disgust before he brushes Jimin’s hand off. The guy was a sleaze but it wasn’t like Jungkook was any better.
.
Your room has one of those windows that you see in Peter-Pan. What was it called, a reading nook, Jungkook thinks idly, hands brushing across the sheer curtains that gave way to the night sky. He glances around your apartment—a simple one bedroom that was decorated cozily and made him want to curl up and take a nap. It was so… you. It was warm and inviting, somehow soft. And it smelled like you. Was littered with pictures of childhood memories, you missing your two front teeth, you at Disneyland, you receiving your high school diploma. And Taehyung was in every single one—which wasn’t exactly odd, save for the fact that Jungkook didn’t notice pictures with literally anyone else.
“Here you go. One special hot chocolate made just for you,” you hum from behind him before handing him the mug. You’ve wiped off the makeup he’d had Chaeyoung put on you, gone were the tight clothes and the heels that kept you eye level with him. What did it say about him, he wondered, that he found this You more appealing suddenly. You with your hair curling around your face messily and cheeks flushed from scrubbing makeup. A hand comes up to touch the fabric of your hoodie—it’s old and worn, soft. “I wasn’t sure if you liked marshmallows or not b…”
You pause when Jungkook’s gaze lingers. Your eyes are wide as you look up at him. God, you were pretty. It isn’t til his eyes slip lower, to the hem of the sweatshirt at your thighs, when his thoughts started to wander…. were you wearing anything beneath that? Were you so daring as to go bra-less around him? It wasn’t until his gaze turned dark that you shook him from his reverie.
“Kookie? Are you feeling okay?” You ask softly and his eyes snap back to your face, to the mug in your hand and the way he grips your arm tightly. “Did you have to much to drink?”
“I’m fine,” he breathes, forcing a smile for your sake, “Sorry, thank you. And I do like marshmallows.”
“I know you had good taste,” you wink before looking over his shoulder with a smile, “were you looking at the pictures? I actually just got that one this weekend.”
When Jungkook turns around to follow your finger it’s pointing at one of you and Taehyung on your couch—you and a headlock and clearly distressed as he holds you.
“You’re close to your brother, huh?” Jungkook murmurs.
“Mm,” you nod, taking a sip of your hot coco, “Taehyung’s always been good at everything and I was sort of… eh. I had a hard time with my studies, a hard time making friends too. So you think I would resent my perfect, sporty, popular brother, right?”
“Did you?” He asks.
“Of course. For a little while. But Tae he’s… he’s important to me. He was there for me growing up. Even when I said I hated him, when I said I wished I’d never been born or I wished I had a different brother you say softly, running a hand over the picture. “He wouldn’t let me push him away. People think his nice guy act is just that but it’s not. Taehyung is the nicest, kindest, most gentle person I know. I’d never forgive anyone who tried to hurt him and I know he’d be the same way.”
Jungkook stares at your side profile for a long time, your cherub cheeks, the way the moonlight dances over your features and makes you look like you’re glowing. He’s familiar with regret, it’s an old friend at this point. And yet it’s never been a crushing weight like this, intensified only when you look at him.
You steal his breath away and maybe it’s the tequila that’s making him sentimental, maybe it’s the full moon, or the dim lighting or the way you smell but Jungkook’s never been one to deny himself an indulgence and you were no different.
“Jungkook—?” You frown when he sets the mug down, only to whirl around and cup your cheeks. It’s with great pleasure that he kisses it right off your face, until your eyes widen and a gasp catches in your throat. Your hands don’t know what to do with themselves, you don’t know what to do with yourself. It’s your first kiss and it’s his, you were his. He’s never met a more perfect, more sweet, more angelic or intelligent person. He’s never wanted to possess and be possessed in the way he does with you. The kiss is frantic, barely enough time for you to find your footing but he leads the way. He takes care of you. Jungkook always takes care of you. Your hands grip the leather of his jacket.
“I’m sorry,” he says between kisses, but your back is pressed to the wall and you can’t think past the fact that he tastes like cherry chapstick and bitter alcohol. He smells sweet and clean and he was so warm, so heavy pressed against you and so right. Your hands find their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. Keeping him firmly rooted when he pulls away again, “Promise me—“ he laughs when you tug him back down, “Promise, you’ll listen.”
“What?” You pant when he begins to pepper kisses down the column of your throat. God, did you want to have sex with him. You really, really wanted to and you tell him so.
The confession seems to bring your moment to a screeching halt. Your hands are still wandering when he pulls away, breathing heavy and staring at you intensely.
“What?” You ask again.
“Promise,” He whispers and your brow furrows. His expression is pained when you go to cup his cheeks. “You’ll let me explain.”
“You’re scaring me. Explain what?” You ask.
“I want to. I really want to,” he mumbles, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He exhales deeply, “I have never wanted to sleep with someone as much as I do you in this very moment. Literally it feels like I’m gonna die.”
“… but?” You press.
“But I have something important to tell you,” he sighs, “and I don’t want to take the choice away from you. So tomorrow if you still want me I’m all yours.”
“Jungkook,” You say slowly.
“I like you. I’ve never liked anyone but I like you,” he blurts out and your eyes widen, “I mean I’ve liked girls before. That sounded so lame, god but I liked their tits or their ass or the way they do that thing I li—“
“Point, Jungkook.”
“Right,” he nods, “I’ve never liked someone like I like you. I think I want to date you. So I…”
Jungkook pauses.
“Tomorrow. I’ll ask you tomorrow.”
.
“You promised you’d hear me out,” he calls out and it’s pained. Not just from the split lip or the shiner your brother has dealt him before you managed to pull them apart. Mostly laden with regret, remorse. Sadness because he wasn’t able to protect you, resentment because he did this to himself. He found the perfect girl and what did he do? Ridicule and humiliate her for a quick buck out of boredom. “You said you’d listened!”
“That was before I found out you tried to sleep with me for a bet!” You call out and it’s hard to hear over the rain. You curse Nicholas Sparks for making you think literally any of this could be romantic. You would probably catch pneumonia and die. Good.
“But I didn’t! Doesn’t that count for something?” He curses, “I’m sorry, okay?!”
“Go to hell!”
“Just listen—“ Jungkook insists, gripping your arm so you can turn to look at him. You hated him, you hated everything about him and yourself but especially the fact that you didn’t hate him at all.
“I trusted you! I told you things I’ve never told anyone before! I thought we were friends… I thought,” your grateful for the rain if only so he can’t see the tears that spill over in frustration, “I thought you cared about me. But it was all fake. For what? To get back st my brother? He didn’t even sleep with your girlfriend, Jungkook.”
“That’s not it, okay? At first it was fake but then,” Jungkook’s tone is anguished, “then it wasn’t and I realized I just fucked over a really sweet girl and I didn’t know how to tell you. I liked spending time with you, I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t want to stop cuddling on your couch and binge watch stranger things. I didn’t want to stop picking you up at three am and going to the diner or… or the way you explain your nerd shit to me. I liked it, I really like you—“
“So what?” You whisper and Jungkook freezes, “this isn’t a movie, Jungkook. You don’t get to apologize in the rain after humiliating me in front of everyone and fighting my brother and think it’s gonna be peachy fucking keen. You hurt me, you broke my trust. I wasn’t doing anything, I was minding my own business. You approached me, you pursued me, you made me love you first. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? Was it that hard?”
You do let him see you breakdown then and it’s s cruel punishment that you only find comfort in his embrace when his arms find purchase on your waist. He was the only one who could fix it and he was the one he broke you in the first place.
“I’m so sorry,” He murmurs, a hand going to cradle your head, “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m a piece of shit. The biggest piece of shit, okay? I don’t deserve you—I…” Jungkook’s eyes screw shut the more sobs seem to rack your body, “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to fix this but I’m so fucking sorry. You’re right it’s all my fault…”
His words fade into a soft cooing, the kind of things a mother would whisper to her child to calm them down and for someone who claims to not be good with words he sure did know the right thing to say.
“You can hate me. It’s all my fault,” he murmurs against your hair, a hand soothing your back, “Everything’s my fault, so don’t cry anymore, okay?”
wc ☆ 731 summary ☆ coming home from college, you didn’t expect your welcome home party to include the man of your younger self’s dreams. warnings ☆ brother’s bsf! yeol, older brother! baekhyun, yeol calls reader peanut, flirty chanyeol, notttt proofread an ☆ my first request and first yeol fic yay! technically it’s not the first thing ive written for him, but i can’t post that wip until… later.
your car slows to a stop in the driveway of your family home, and before you can even shut it off, your mom is running down the driveway to meet you. as quickly and frantically as possible, you fling anything incriminating from your first semester in the backseat before she gets any closer.
just like that she’s opening the door, shutting the car off for you, and pulling you out into her arms. it feels like you’ve been swept into a tornado with all the kisses on your face paired with the vigorous swaying back and forth.
“oh, my baby is home! it felt like you were gone for forever! my sweet girl is finally back..” she kisses your forehead one last time before pulling away, ushering you towards the house. “come, come, everyone’s here! baekhyun’s here, your aunties are here, chanyeol’s here, everyone! we’ve all been so excited to welcome you back.”
as soon as you walk in the door all the cheers start up again, and as appreciated as it is, it’s definitely annoying. you have such an overbearing family, it’s no wonder you were dreading coming back. everyone gets up and goes to hug you one by one, commenting on one thing and the next about you and college life. eventually, thankfully, your mom gets a wave of pity and finally gets everyone away to finally give you space.
strolling to the kitchen, all your favorite foods are laid out, and you sigh in contentment. not only are you finally able to breathe away from your entire family tree, but the true thing you were looking forward to awaits you; mama byun’s home cooking.
just as you start piling up your plate, someone comes up behind you, “oh, peanut!”
you freeze, dropping the spoon you were holding. your eyes squeeze shut, a deep breath hisses through your teeth. you almost don’t want to turn around, but you know doom awaits you if you don’t.
park chanyeol, baekhyun’s best friend and self-appointed family member, leans against the doorway with a smirk that seems at least a little like a genuine smile. you wish you could kick him out right now because you can see in his face that he absolutely has not forgotten about your past.
your lips are pressed into a thin line, and you nod in response. “chanyeol.”
he winces, hand to his chest, “gosh, you wound me. i thought you’d be more excited to see me.. what did college do to you? you’re so.. emo now.”
you frown. “i’m not emo, yeol- chanyeol, i’ve just.. grown up, okay?”
your nonchalant facade cracking for a moment makes him smile, strolling over to you to lock you in a hug. holy shit, you think, sirens blaring in your head, eyes wide as you feel his biceps around you. his chest is so firm and built that it nearly chokes you how it bulges against your throat, and fuck. it’s over for you. he’s someone you’ll never get over.
“there’s my peanut… i knew you were in there somewhere. are you embarrassed? trying to move on?”
you force yourself to pull away, otherwise you might pass out. for multiple reasons. to hide the warmth in your cheeks, you get back to plating your food, “i’m not embarrassed, chanyeol, and there’s nothing i need to move on from. you’re crazy. you must be drunk.”
he chuckles, still hovering incredibly close by you. “i see. so baekhyun crying about the things in your diary was a drunk memory, right? because you’re so grown now, you know exactly what it’s like to be drunk and make things up.”
that’s what makes you give in, putting your things down to turn to him with fire. “you are so- ugh! why are you like this?! does it get you going to instigate all the time?! this is why i went so far away. i hate you.”
he coos, “i’m not instigating, peanut, just making conversation. and i know you don’t hate me, look at your face,” he pinched your cheek, and only laughs when you turn your head to bite his thumb. slowly, he backs up and towards the living room, but not without his trademark sentences that leave you fucking reeling,
“and there’s no animosity here. maybe i’m rekindling your ‘burning-hot feelings’ for a reason.” he winks, leaving the room.
title: no more
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: some angst, fluff, one-sided love (unrequited love?), college!au, secret relationship, smut
word count: 14.5k
prompt: yoongi doesn’t like your consistent pining, and one day, after finally coming to terms that he will never reciprocate any feelings back, you give up. yet, for some reason, yoongi is the one who can’t come to terms with the consequences of when he says ‘no more.’
warnings: public sex (in the bathroom), unprotected sex
a/n: so yes, you’ve heard it right, i deleted and rewrote this fic a total of 4 times! we are our own worst critics, and i admit sadly that it’s evidently true. i hope you guys enjoy because… like i said…. four times………. and… idk how i feel about this one but I’M DONE! (i have mixed feelings about this) it’s the end of my 2-part series!
Yoongi learns that pinks are his favorite color… at least, his preferred color on you.
He’s fond of when your lips are tinted a shade similar to strawberries from your sheer Dior lip balm he sees you apply on frequently. And when he presses his lips against yours, although it doesn’t taste as sweet as you look, he continues to shower you with pecks across your face nonetheless while you laugh uncontrollably at the ticklish sensation. Pink suits a pretty girl like you.
Or when you smile; cheeks rosy with an extra layer of an apricot blush, your skin radiates as if it’s been caressed by the sun, glowing in parallel to when it sets in the horizon.
title: no more
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: some angst, fluff, one-sided love (unrequited love?), college!au, secret relationship, smut
word count: 15.2k+
prompt: yoongi doesn’t like your consistent pining, and one day, after finally coming to terms that he will never reciprocate any feelings back, you give up. yet, for some reason, yoongi is the one who can’t come to terms with the consequences of when he says ‘no more.’
warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, just doing the damn deed
a/n: sup people, i’m back at it again with a fic, a two part series so hold on tight!!! let me know what you think!!
01 || 02
Honestly, in your perspective, Yoongi is the pure definition of perfection.
wc ☆ 1k summary ☆ sometimes your brain is too full for words or rationality, but thankfully, sehun has the perfect remedy for that. warnings ☆ older! sehun, there’s supposed to be an age gap but i feel like it isn’t obvious enough, comfort an ☆ this is a request from my old account !!! i loved it sm that i rlly wanted to bring it over here :) it also comforts me a lot so u all and the requester deserve to see it still
after nearly two hours of laying on the couch, there’s so much boredom flooding your veins that you end up hanging off the edge, the top of your head grazing the floor. with sehun out working all day, you were left home to your own devices. typically that wouldn’t have been an issue, but with the terrible white noise from the tv and the nonstop thoughts running through your head, it’s getting harder to tolerate being alive right now.
it’s just been a really big week for you. while it’s been good, receiving gallery invitations and much more, it’s starting to feel like you bit off more than you can chew. it gets harder and harder to balance all the things, like completing paintings, finding time for yourself and friends, doing the rest of your schooling, and then being a good girlfriend at the end of the day.
you love it, and love being ambitious with the need to do everything you love, but there’s moments like these where you stare at the wall and realize you can’t handle it that make you feel terrible. that exact feeling is what put you right here, getting home from your last class of the day, one that ended when the sun was up, and going straight to sitting in the same position on the couch for the rest of the night.
the silence is starting to pull a headache to the front of your skull when the front door opens, sehun pushing through with a sigh. it’s so dark that the only thing he can see is your face, lit up by the tv. he frowns, and you can’t really see it all too well, but you know it’s there in the way he hasn’t said anything.
he flicks the table lamp on as he comes closer, calling your name softly, “why’s it so dark in here? are you okay?”
you look at him briefly, just for a second before the thought of talking at all brings a burn behind your eyes. all you can do is shake your head and roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. your head falls in your pillow before you can see sehun’s reaction, but you can tell that he’s even more put off by you than he already was.
he sits next to you, by your feet, in silence. you see his hand reach out to touch you, before pulling away. his mouth opens, like he’s going to speak, before it closes again. he then makes a movement to grab one of your feet, turning to face you better while pressing his thumbs into the sole. the fact that he still chooses to be so tender despite your soft launching a terrible attitude forms a lump in your throat and a sting in your eyes.
sehun frowns once again, as if the one he had couldn’t grow any deeper, before finally speaking up again. “sweetheart..” he takes a sharp breath in, finding his words, “i see that you’ve had a bad day. and i’m sorry. i want to help you, but when you give me this negativity i can’t, right?”
you sniffle, a little shudder moving through your body, before collecting yourself and sitting up. your knees get hugged to your chest, chin resting on top. “i know, but i just..” you don’t even know. the feelings are still so fresh that it makes you even angrier trying to compute it. “i’m just so fucking tired, okay? and i can’t.. i.. i don’t-“
sehun shushes you and closes the gap before your emotions can take you any further. his arms wrap tight around your torso and pull you into his chest, grounding you and pulling you away from your frustrations. he holds you there, tightly while you fall apart again, quick breaths and hot tears falling onto the fabric of his button up. i know. he mumbles, missing your hair. i know.
just like that your entire body in his grasp, and he’s up on his feet. your head is still buried in his chest, tears still falling freely, but it happens silently as he leads you to the bathroom and sits you on the toilet. he grabs a bit of tissue, calmly wiping your tears and your nose, and exiting with a kiss to your forehead.
when he comes back, his hands are dangerously full, almost dropping two candles and a bag of bath salts. he starts with the water, fiddling with the temperature like one degree matters, which it does when it’s for you. then the candles are lit and salts are thrown in the water, and all you can do is watch with your damp cheeks and stuffy nose because how is he so perfect? how does he always know what to do?
once everything is set up, he kneels in front of you, hands on your knees. face is completely calm, straight as can be, while managing the look of patience that only comes out after leaving the office.
he takes in a breath, “i know your day hasn’t been good. your back hurts. your feet hurt. your brain hurts. now, all i need is for you to let me help you. should i stay with you or do you want some time to yourself?”
you’re too drained to even try talking so you just grab his wrist, he asks again, and you nod. that’s all it takes for him to slowly remove your clothes for you, helping you into the bath before getting seated next to you. he’s still in his slacks, you realize, tie now undone and button up halfway unbuttoned, and he brushes it off, knowing what you were thinking already. he’s studied you so well that he might as well put mind reading in his resume.
the same way he knows your thoughts before they even form, he rolls his sleeves to his elbows and puts his hands under the water to work through the tension in your muscles. his eyes never wander, nor do his fingers, gaze locked on your face to make sure your mind is on nothing but him and the moment you’re in now. of course he’s made the mental note to talk to you about everything, but that can be pushed to later. your needs are different right now, and he’ll work his hardest to meet them.
↳ summary: they've always been competitive about everything, and you're no exception.
↳ wc: 3.3k
↳ genres and content: baekhyun x f!reader x chanyeol | pwp, vaguely college football au | threesome, oral (all receiving), deepthroating/mentions of choking on it, hella dirty talk, degradation, and praise, p in v (and a?), dp, brief slapping, spanking, general filth
↳ a/n: requested by anon! i don't know anything about dp for real and i know even less about american football. no one mention how the title is a tennis reference please i just thought it was cool
You hear them all the way down the hallway before you hear the jingling of the key in your door. That telltale muffled bickering grows louder and louder the closer they get, until their words become crystal clear when the door slams open.
“— you had just been paying attention then we would’ve scored that final point!”
“So fucking what? We would’ve won anyways, thanks to the touchdown that I scored in the third quarter.”
The two barrel into your entryway, hardly giving you a second glance. Baekhyun and Chanyeol, the star quarterbacks of your university’s football team, who always seemed to butt heads on and off the field. They had already showered and changed out of their gear (thank God, after showing up to your place much one too many times tracking in dirt and grass), but that didn’t mean that they left their game day mindset behind.
You clear your throat from your perch on the couch, looking up from your study notes. “Have a good game?”
Baekhyun sighs dramatically, flopping onto the cushions next to you. “It would’ve been a good game if Chanyeol was thinking about anything related to football at all in the last ten seconds.”
Chanyeol frowns, helping himself to a glass of water from your sink. “Like I was saying, I scored the winning touchdown several minutes before that. Why does it matter if we didn’t get three extra points?”
“It’s about the principle, Yeol. We only moderately beat them”. Baekhyun’s eyes glint with a mixture of annoyance and passion. “If we got those extra points we could’ve gone around saying that we beat their asses into the ground.”
“What do you think?” Chanyeol turns to you. Two pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly.
You sigh. You hate mediating whatever petty argument the two of them get up to. Frankly, you simply have better things to do with your time. But sometimes, on a night like tonight when the adrenaline is still high from their game, it’s in your best interest to stir the pot a little bit.
“I dunno, Baek, it kinda sounds like Chanyeol won the game for us.”
Baekhyun’s mouth drops open while Chanyeol smirks. He crosses over to the couch to sit on your other side and ruffles your hair affectionately. “See, Baek? Your point is meaningless.”
“It doesn’t count because you weren’t there,” Baekhyun says petulantly, bottom lip jutting out not unlike a child who’s just been told no. “You should’ve felt the rush from the crowd. They were definitely disappointed that we didn’t score.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “It’s not that serious.”
“It is that serious!” The volume of Baekhyun’s voice raises again, a renewed motivation to argue surging through him. “You know that I play better when I’m feeding off the crowd’s energy.”
“Guys, stop,” you say firmly. Instantly, they shut up, mouths snapping shut obediently. “Last time you guys fought I was getting noise complaints for days. Don’t make me regret giving you guys the spare key.”
“Sorry,” they say in unison.
“If you guys keep bickering I’m just gonna go to sleep. Or…” you say pointedly. “You could settle this a different way.”
That gets their attention. They perk up immediately, waiting for you expectantly.
“Whoever makes me cum the most in the next hour wins.”
Tension settles in the air, thick and heavy. It’s no secret to the other that you hook up with both of them. They don’t care on any level deeper than petty jealousy. But this… having you at the same time? It’s an entirely new experience, but one that you’d been fantasizing a lot lately, waiting for the right time to broach the subject.
To your delight, they look incredibly interested. Baekhyun swallows, his gaze drifting heavily from you to Chanyeol. The other mirrors his disposition; you can practically see the gears turning in his head. The two size each other up, ever the competitors, waiting for the other to make the first move.
“Or I could just say that Yeol was right—”
Baekhyun reaches out to grab your chin, tilting your head towards him. He kisses you roughly, slipping his tongue past your pliant lips, groaning when you fist a hand in his hair. To your other side, Chanyeol whines. He shoves his hand between your faces and pries you away from Baekhyun, kissing you when your lips part.
“Playing dirty already, Yeol?” Baekhyun huffs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before he pulls your attention back towards him. He ducks his head down to suck a mark into your neck, smirking against your skin when you gasp.
Chanyeol goes to unbutton your shirt, large hands fumbling with your buttons. “Shut the fuck up, Byun,” he grumbles, kissing your chest.
It’s a huge mess: hands and lips moving everywhere. You lose track of which body part belongs to who, whose hand is settling on your tits, who’s slipping their fingers past the waistband of your pajama shorts. All you know is that your head is spinning, whirling from their constant tugs for attention, and that you end up completely bare in between the two of them. You can feel just how soaked you’re starting to become, heat pooling in your core.
Baekhyun kneels between your legs, all but pulling you forward towards him as he hooks his arms around your thighs, locking you in place. Chanyeol continues to make out with you, a sharp sting blooming across your bottom lip when he nips at it, pulling the skin slightly towards him right as Baekhyun buries his face in your heat, nose bumping against your clit as he licks at you fervently.
You gasp into Chanyeol’s mouth, pulling away to look down at the sight below. Baekhyun’s staring up at you with a fire in his eyes, the kind of heat you only see from him when he’s on the field.
“Not fair,” Chanyeol says, slightly out of breath. His lips are dark and wet, eyes bearing a similar flame to Baekhyun’s.
“Too slow, Park,” Baekhyun mutters, smirking as he sinks two long fingers into your cunt. “You snooze, you lose.”
You open your mouth to scold him, but you don’t get a word out before Chanyeol’s lips descend on yours again. You whimper against him, instinctively arching into Baekhyun’s touch. His tongue dips into your hole, brushing against your walls as he strokes your clit with his thumb, skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Can we confess something to you?” Chanyeol asks, voice heated. “We hoped this would happen when we came over tonight. We made up the argument.”
“What?” you pant. “You little shits.”
Baekhyun sinks his fingers back into your wet slit, curling them against your g-spot. “Are you complaining?” he asks cheekily. “I’ll stop right now if you want me to.”
“You’re such a basta— oh fuck, Baekhyunnie,” you moan, fisting a hand in his hair. “I’m getting close.”
“Not yet,” he says. “Why don’t you help Chanyeol out, he’s getting awfully squirmy.”
Without a second to lose, Chanyeol gets rid of the rest of his clothes, moaning breathily when you spit into your other hand and begin to jerk him off slowly.
“Ah, shit,” he gasps, his hips bucking into your touch. “Just like that, baby.”
Your senses are on overdrive trying to process everything that’s happening: the sight of the two with their desirous gazes, the slick noises coming from either side, the buildup of pleasure in your body. It all becomes too much too fast, and you tip over the edge, clamping your thighs around Baekhyun’s head as you cum. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently, making you shudder with sensitivity. Chanyeol sucks a bruise right under your ear. “So beautiful, so good,” he murmurs, sending another wave of desire through you.
As soon as Baekhyun moves off of you, Chanyeol’s strong arms are pulling you up and into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, mind hazy from the afterglow of your first orgasm, as he carries you into the bedroom, Baekhyun following close behind. He tosses you onto the bed and flips you over onto your stomach, not even giving you a second to breathe before sheathing himself inside of you without preamble. You cry out, head dropping forward onto the sheets in front of you as Chanyeol immediately sets a brutal rhythm. He’s not usually so rough with you, but the buildup, not being able to touch you in the way that Baekhyun has, must have gotten to him. You can feel it in the way that he grips your hips like he has something to prove, burying himself inside of you again and again.
“Fucking impatient ass,” Baekhyun grumbles, moving to the other side of the bed so that he’s in front of you. He tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze even as he continues to talk to Chanyeol. “You literally carried her in here.”
“Shut up,” Chanyeol bites back. He tightens his grip, holding you still as he pounds into you. “Sounds like you were just too slow.”
“Why are you both— hah— talking about me like I’m not here?” you manage to say, your words coming out unsteady.
“Aw, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun coos condescendingly. “You want even more attention than you’re already getting, hm? Getting fucked into the mattress isn’t enough?”
“Jesus, Baek,” Chanyeol says. “Isn’t that a little mean?”
“She likes it.” He settles into position so that you’re laying in between his legs, his cock just inches from your face. “You don’t feel how she’s getting wetter?”
You nod frantically. “I do— I like it, Yeollie. Please, more.”
“Good girl,” Baekhyun chuckles. He lightly slaps the side of your face, not hard enough to sting, but still enough to make you gasp. “Now open up.”
You wrap your hand around the base of Baekhyun’s cock and put it to your lips, tongue darting out to lick the underside of his head. “Come on, you can do better than that,” Chanyeol says. Before you know it, his hand is on the back of your head, pushing you down once onto Baekhyun’s length before letting you go. You choke, spit dribbling down past your lips and down his cock, the momentum from Chanyeol’s thrusts pushing you deeper onto Baekhyun. Your eyes water as you struggle to adjust, but soon you settle into a rhythm.
“God, you look so good like this,” Baekhyun murmurs, reaching out to caress the side of your face, jarringly gentle for the way you’re currently being manhandled on both sides. “I don’t think she’s gonna want to go back to having us one at a time, Yeol. You should see her face.”
“Yeah?” Chanyeol grunts. “Tell me how much you like it, baby.”
You pull off of Baekhyun with a slight pop. You feel your own spit all over your bottom lip and chin, and a string of saliva connects your mouth to the tip of Baekhyun’s cock. It’s dirty, filthy, and you think that maybe you should be embarrassed but you’re not. Not in the slightest. “I love it,” you gasp, tilting your head up so you can see Chanyeol above you. “I love it so much.”
Chanyeol wraps his hand around your throat and bends down to swap a filthy kiss with you before letting you go, lowering your mouth back onto Baekhyun’s cock. You work with the rhythm that Chanyeol sets, using your hand on whatever can’t fit inside your mouth. Baekhyun’s head tips back, lips parting. He swallows thickly, reaching out a hand to settle on top of your head. “Such a good slut,” he groans. “You love being used like this, huh? You like being our little fucktoy?”
You moan instead of answering him with words, nodding your head as best as you can around his length. The salty tang of precum touches your tongue, only spurring you on further.
“Don’t take his cock out of your mouth when you cum,” Chanyeol says, one hand grabbing your shoulder for better leverage. “Wanna hear you choke on it when you do.”
His words unlock something in you, the filth coming from Chanyeol, who’s usually so restrained with his words, dripping with pure, animalistic lust in his voice. It suddenly brings about your second orgasm, your body trembling through it, your puffy, sensitive walls fluttering around Chanyeol’s length. Your voice comes out muffled and choked around Baekhyun, making him groan. He grabs at the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
Chanyeol doesn’t wait another second and slaps your ass as he pulls out, making you jolt. “C’mon, ride me.”
“Wait, hold on,” Baekhyun pouts. “It’s my turn.”
“I’m not fucking done yet,” Chanyeol says with a huff. “You can wait.”
“Quit being a dick—”
“Or you could both do it.”
They both shut up immediately, looking at you with a mixture of apprehension and arousal. “Baek in my ass,” you continue. “Yeol in my pussy.”
“Are you sure?” Baekhyun asks, all of his previous bravado melting away to show his concern. “I know we’ve— done it like that before but never at the same time.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Chanyeol chimes in.
“I’m sure,” you say. “Here, like this.”
You gently push Chanyeol onto his back and climb on top of him, slowly sinking down onto his thick length. You lean down, almost touching your chests together, arching your ass as best as you can for Baekhyun.
“Oh my God,” Baekhyun groans, settling behind you. He rubs his hands over your ass appreciatively, parting your cheeks and letting some spit dribble down onto your hole. “You look so fucking slutty like this.”
You swallow and give him the go-ahead, distracting yourself by leaving hickeys across Chanyeol’s chest. Inch by inch, Baekhyun pushes in. It’s tight, uncomfortable, but not anything you can’t handle. The three of you take shaky breaths, silent for the first time as you all adjust to the new sensations. “Look at me, baby,” Chanyeol says softly, grabbing your face with both hands. “You’re doing perfect. Such a good girl for us.”
You mewl in his grasp, arms shaking as you struggle to hold yourself up. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and the feeling is almost so overwhelming you don’t know whether to run from it or towards it. “So— so much.”
“Too much?” Baekhyun asks, voice strained. You can tell that he’s holding himself back, every muscle in his body working to stop himself from losing control, from pushing all the way in.
“No,” you gasp. “Don’t you dare stop.”
It takes a bit of time, but slowly you start to feel yourself getting used to the stretch, pleasure replacing the discomfort. You drop your head onto Chanyeol’s chest as Baekhyun starts to slide in and out.
“So fucking tight.” Baekhyun leans over and scatters kisses across your back. You feel surrounded on all sides, pressed between the two of them, the warmth of their bodies heating your skin. “How you doing, angel?”
You try to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled whine. You can’t think, much less form a proper sentence. Chanyeol tips your chin up towards him and kisses you. “Answer,” he says softly but firmly, rolling his hips upwards gently.
The dual movement makes you cry out, fingers scrambling to grasp onto Chanyeol’s shoulders. “It’s good,” you whimper. “So— fuck— please.”
“Cute,” Chanyeol chuckles. He kisses you again. “You’re so pretty when you’re wrecked.”
They begin to move faster and at the same time, making you feel so full in ways you never thought possible. The two are almost just as wrecked as you, hands and lips roaming, breath hot against your skin, mumbling praise, an endless stream of, “So good, angel,” and “Our pretty slut.” You can’t return their sentiments, at least not through words, only able to babble out a stream of incoherent words and breathy whines.
It gets to the point where they’re pounding into you, hips rolling as if they were one unit. You cry out at a particularly deep thrust, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “Fuck, I’m getting close,” you whimper.
“Who’s better?” Chanyeol whispers in your ear, cutting through all the noise.
“Wh-What?” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. Your head starts to droop forward again but Baekhyun tugs your hair back, forcing you to lock eyes with Chanyeol.
“I said, who’s better at fucking you stupid, huh?” He punctuates his point with a sharper thrust upward, making you scream. “Answer, or we won’t let you cum.”
“I— I don’t know!” you wail. The tears fall, streaming down your face. “You’re both so good, too good, fuck!”
“Goddamn, who’s being mean now?” Baekhyun says, leaving a sharp smack on your ass. “If she doesn’t want to pick, don’t make her pick.”
“I— I don’t wanna,” you whine, straining back to look at Baekhyun, his sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. “Please, Baek. I— I wanna cum.”
Baekhyun swears, hips stuttering. “Just a little longer, baby.”
You’re frantic, fingers leaving red indents on Chanyeol’s shoulders from holding on for dear life. Baekhyun reaches out and grabs your wrists, pulling them taut behind you. You sob, breathless, helplessly at their mercy but you wouldn’t want it any other fucking way. “Please,” you babble, delirious, the only thing on your mind being your need for release. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything.”
“Say who makes you feel this good,” Baekhyun hisses into your ear.
“You do! Both of you! Shit, I can’t—”
“Okay, baby,” Chanyeol grunts. “Cum for us.”
It explodes through you, white-hot and ferocious. Your vision turns spotty around the edges as it ripples through you. The two of them swear as you tighten around them, your walls fluttering, two pairs of large hands holding you still as you shudder in their grasp.
Chanyeol helps you off of them and puts you onto your back, positioning himself near your mouth. Exhausted, still shuddering through the aftershocks, you take him into your mouth, wrapping your other hand around Baekhyun.
“Not gonna last long,” Baekhyun groans, tipping his head forward.
“Me neither,” Chanyeol replies, fisting a hand in your hair.
It doesn’t take long until they both release, Chanyeol into your mouth and Baekhyun across your tits and stomach. He drags his fingers through the mess, slipping his fingers past your waiting, open lips, giving both of them a fucked-out smile. You’re spent, your limbs turning to jelly, and if you had any say in the matter you’d just sink into the mattress and be a part of the furniture forever.
“You okay?” Baekhyun asks softly, running a hand through your hair.
“Mhm,” you hum, kissing him. You turn your head towards Chanyeol to give him the same treatment. “That was insane.”
“You’re so perfect,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Let me get you some water and clean you up.”
“Get me one too?” Baekhyun asks, fluttering his eyelashes.
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and flips him off, but comes back juggling three glasses of water all the same. They both work to clean you up, whispering soft praise into your skin the entire time. Through the haze, you realize that they’ve gotten you ready for bed, and they’ve gotten ready for it as well. You’ve never done this before, spent the night with both of them, but it’s as easy and natural as though you’d done it for years.
“So who won?” Chanyeol asks.
“I thought you made up the argument,” you reply.
“No, your challenge. The one about making you cum.”
“It was a tie,” you mumble sleepily, curling into Baekhyun’s chest. “One for Baek, one for you, one for you both.”
“That’s not very satisfying,” Baekhyun frowns.
“Try again tomorrow, then,” you reply. “Now be quiet. I want to go to bed.”
Chanyeol settles into your other side, draping his warm body across your back, and the three of you drift off into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⤑ pairing: park chanyeol x actress!reader
⤑ genre: angst, ex-lovers au, celebrities au
⤑ prompt: 15. "That was supposed to be me, not him."
⤑ warnings: none
⤑ word count: 0.6k
a/n: first chanyeol centric writing! i love this man i swear, i don't like seeing him sad but it had to be done (ಡ‸ಡ) hope you like this~
Chanyeol's phone buzzed with a message notification, interrupting his racing thoughts. He picked it up to find a text from his best friend, Sehun.
"She's engaged," the message read, accompanied by a link to a news article.
Chanyeol's heart sank as he clicked on the link and saw a photo of you with a beaming smile, wrapped around the arms of a handsome man that isn't him. They were wearing matching rings, a symbol of their commitment to each other.
"That was supposed to be me, not him," Chanyeol whispered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. The pain in his chest was suffocating, a reminder of the love he had lost.
The announcement of your engagement had become a hot topic as two incredible and beautiful actors decided to tie the knot. Chanyeol couldn't escape the constant reminders of your newfound happiness. His social media was flooded with photos of the happy couple, their smiles brighter than the sun, a constant reminder of what could've been if Chanyeol and you didn't go on separate ways.
A sudden memory surfaced in his mind, a piece of advice his friend had shared with him years ago. "You're the guy girls date before they find the one," his friend had said, and now, it felt like an undeniable truth.
In the midst of your engagement whirlwind, Chanyeol and you coincidentally found yourselves in the same department store. His heart constricted when he saw you, arm in arm with your fiancee, the man whose good looks and radiant smile had stolen your heart. But Chanyeol knew that that wasn't the only reason why you fell for him and decided to spend the rest of your life with him.
Chanyeol felt like he was suffocating, but he couldn't let his pain show. He had learned to wear a mask, to hide the fragments of his shattered heart beneath a facade of composure. With a heavy heart, he approached you, his face breaking into a forced smile.
"Congratulations on your engagement, ___," he said, his voice betraying none of the turmoil inside him.
Chanyeol's eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a glimmer of regret in your gaze. "It's good to see you, Chanyeol" you replied, tone tinged with sadness.
Chanyeol and you exchanged pleasantries but every word you spoke felt like a fresh wound being torn open. Chanyeol couldn't help but notice the way your fiancee clung to you, the love and happiness in their eyes, a stark contrast to the void that had formed in Chanyeol's chest.
As they talked, Chanyeol realized that they were worlds apart now, living different lives with different dreams. You had found happiness in someone else's arms, and Chanyeol had been left behind, a forgotten chapter in your story.
The pain became unbearable, and Chanyeol excused himself with a polite smile, making a hasty retreat from the department store. He couldn't bear to see your happiness any longer. His own smile had become a mask that concealed his fractured soul.
Once alone in his car, tears streamed down Chanyeol's face as he replayed the encounter in his mind. He had congratulated you with grace but it had cost him the last remnants of his heart.
For weeks afterward, Chanyeol couldn't shake the haunting image of you and your fiancee from his mind. That was supposed to be us. We were supposed to be the ones getting engaged, not you and him.
He spent countless nights crying over the love he and you had lost. It was as if his heart had been cruelly ripped from his chest and subjected to a relentless onslaught, trampled on a million times.
Tears blurred his vision as he realized that he had been holding onto the past for far too long. It was time to let go, to find his own happiness, even if it meant moving on without you.
wait i was the one who sent the anon request on readers fingers… i was wrong and got confused i change my mind please MORE BAEKHYUN’S THUMB/FINGERS IN READER’S MOUTH PLEAAAAAASEEEEE (DESPERATE)
i'm dead as hell i love ur energy anon
baekhyun x f!reader | wc: 674 | dom baek, finger sucking, raw p in v, somewhat risky sex. dirty talk, very mild degradation, choking (omfg i'm in a mood; this ended up bring pretty filthy oopsies)
baekhyun's body completely covers yours, his chest pressed against your back. somehow, he still has the stamina to snap his hips into yours, even after emptying himself into you less than an hour ago. it's filthy, wet between your thighs and sticky between your bodies. his lips press against your sweat-damp temple as he grinds his cock into you, coaxing out your whimpers.
"mm, tired already?" he laughs, reaching around to cup your chin with his hand and jerk your face towards him. "i'm not even close to done with you."
your body is sore, muscles raw from the friction, but you don't give a fuck—the arousal thrums through you all the same, toe-curling pulses of pleasure that zip up your spine every time baekhyun thrusts inside. you're just about to open your mouth to make a remark when you hear the distant sound of baekhyun's front door opening. it's baekhyun's roommate, back from his night out about two hours early.
you don't even get a chance to protest. baekhyun slips his index and middle fingers inside of your mouth, pressing down lightly on your tongue. he shoots you one warning look before turning his attention to his closed bedroom door.
"yo, you back already?" he yells out, his voice remarkably steady. "don't come in here, i'm taking a dump."
"gross," jongin calls back. "i'm boutta head out again, i forgot this place is cash only and i was passing by so thought i'd grab some."
baekhyun hasn't stopped. he continues to grind into you, only minutely slower than the brutal pace he set before. you squeeze your eyes shut in your efforts to keep quiet, sucking around the digits in your mouth to give you something, anything else for you to focus on.
his hips stutter, biting back a curse under his breath. "alright, i'll see ya tonight!" he says, voice wavering slightly.
"see ya, baek." there's the sound of some footsteps, and then the door clicks closed.
"holy fucking shit," baekhyun groans, pushing his fingers even further into your mouth, making you gag slightly. "you know how fucking hard it was to act normal with you sucking my fingers like that?"
he pulls out of you abruptly and flips you onto your back, throwing one leg over his shoulder as he pounds into your sensitive cunt. he grabs your chin, placing his thumb against your quivering bottom lip.
"fuck, baek!" you grab onto his forearm as tears well up in your eyes. "t-too much!"
"you can take it, pretty girl," he coos, slipping the tip of his thumb past your parted lips. he groans when you suck on it instinctively, looking up at him with watery eyes. "you look so fucking slutty right now," he whispers, the fingers of his free hand wrapping around your neck. "makes me wanna fucking ruin you."
"do it then," you whimper.
his fingers tighten around your throat as he moves impossibly faster, bringing you to the edge much, much quicker than you anticipated. there's hardly any buildup at all before your orgasm slams into you, sending your eyes rolling back as your body quakes, tongue pressing against the pad of his thumb. you gasp for breath as he releases his hold on your throat, his hands instead finding a home on your hips as he slams into you, spilling inside with a deep groan.
"fuck," he swallows, chest heaving, arms shaking as he lays on top of you. he cradles your head between his arms gently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection. "what the fuck was that."
"i should be asking you that," you pant. "now i know to stick your fingers in my mouth if i want to get you really worked up."
baekhyun laughs. "oh no," he says sarcastically. "what ever will i do? my beautiful girlfriend wants to suck on my fingers, someone save me."
"you're so annoying," you huff. "i'm going to sleep."
"what about round three?" he pouts.
you gape at him. "you're insatiable."
"and you love it."
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⟡ summary: you ain't even friends, just enemies with benefits.
⟡ content: highly +18 content, mdni, smut, plot with porn, office au, enemies to fb (but the thing is you're not buddies lmao), mention of alcohol, swearing, mention of drunk sex, oral sex (both receiving), slight sub and dom leaning (switchies!!), fingering, marathon sex, facesitting (pussydrunk!junmyeon), masturbation, slight dacryphilia, raw sex, dirty talking, edging, slight choking, creampie, cum eating, overstimulation, squirting | junmyeon x f!reader | wordcount: 11.7k words (10.9k certified enemies behavior + 0.8k bonus!!!)
⟡ a/note: omg, it's finally here !!!! pls read the content warning first bc this is probably the nastiest thing i've ever written... but yeah, i'm not sorry !!! i really hope this is worth the wait and all the hype i've build up around. alsooo, happy birthday to the love of my life, my junmyeonnie. mhwaaa <3
You were still drained from last night and whatever reckless truce that happened.
The mattress shifted as Junmyeon moved, his heavy arm finally lifting from your waist. He didn’t bother being gentle as he untucked the covers, leaving your naked body exposed to the morning chill. You let out a frustrated whine at his sheer lack of manners.
“You’re remarkably annoying this morning,” you muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled, as you tried to tuck yourself into the sheets. “It’s dark outside, c’mon!”
Junmyeon let out a low, mocking laugh. Of course, he did it on purpose. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice grating on your nerves. You heard the metallic slide of a zipper as he stepped into his jeans. “Sunrises are inspiring, y’know?”
“Get out!” Tired of him and his effortless energy, you bolted upright, grabbed the decorative pillow beside you, and hurled it with every bit of strength you had left. Junmyeon leaned to the left, letting it thud harmlessly against the doorframe.
“Better luck next time,” he threw back, his laugh raspy and entirely too triumphant. “See you later, loser!” He was already halfway out the door.
Frustrated, you tried to make yourself sleep again, but when you were about to fall asleep, the distinct shut of the main door echoed through your quiet apartment. He was finally gone, heading back to his own place, which happened to be right next door.
The rivalry between you and Junmyeon was built in your first week; the air in the office seemed to sharpen whenever you both occupied the same room. You didn’t just disagree on everything; you two were capable of sabotaging each other if that meant the end of the other’s ego.
If you hit your sales goals, he tripled his. If he delivered a flawless presentation, you spent the next three hours perfecting a rebuttal that made his data look like a rough draft. You were both relentless, stubborn, fueled by a mutual, unspoken agreement that there was only room for one of you at the top. The “Seller of the Month” wasn’t just a prize anymore; it was the ultimate proof of superiority, and you’d rather work yourself to the bone than let him win.
The office had grown used to that tension between you. They joked about your rivalry, and saw the way you rolled your eyes when he spoke, and the way his jaw tightened whenever you took the lead in a meeting. They called it a personality clash, seeing it as an actual show.
Then came that team dinner.
The atmosphere was loud and celebratory, but you and Junmyeon were locked in your own private war. Both drunk, at the end of the table, arguing over a lead he’d clearly stolen from you.
The tension followed you on the shared taxi all the way home, finally boiling over as the elevator doors slid shut. You were barking at him, your face inches from him, fueled by months of suppressed adrenaline, ready to tear him apart—your finger poking into the fabric of his chest.
Junmyeon was tense. He didn’t argue back, at least, not with words. He moved closer, one hand slamming into the metal wall, the other one sliding down to grip your waist with bruising force. His mouth crashed onto yours to silence you. It was a collision. Stunned, you tasted his rage, but didn’t stop him. You pulled him into your space with a violence that surprised you both, your nails clawing through his shirt, searching for skin to punish.
By the time the doors opened to his—and your—floor, the war transitioned into something deeper. You two stumbled into his apartment, mouths still locked in a battle for dominance, trying to rip each other's clothes off.
The drinks had blinded you, blurring the hatred into a raw heat. Junmyeon backed you onto the bed, his movements jagged and demanding. He didn’t have to ask; your eyes said everything. You watched him drop between your legs, his eyes dark with hunger as he stripped away the last of your defenses.
When his mouth finally made contact with your soft skin, it was electric. He clearly knew what he was doing, tracing the sensitive lines of your inner thighs before focusing entirely on your pussy with a relentless hunger. Junmyeon was eating you out like he had been starving for months, his fingers hooked into your hips to hold you still while he drank you in.
“Shit—Junmyeon!”
Your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan against your folds. The sounds of wetness and his ragged, hot breath were so erotic that your legs were already shaking. He pushed harder, swirling his tongue in rhythmic circles until you were sobbing his name again, and again.
“Fuck…” he groaned. “You taste so fucking good.”
Junmyeon was winning. He knew it. You knew it, too. And yes, he wanted to be the only thing you could feel, the only thing you remembered as long as your inner thighs clamped his face, and your inner walls clenched at anything, already trembling against his mouth, knowing he was making you have the best orgasm in a long time.
But you weren’t finished. As soon as he tasted the last drop and hovered over you, your mouth crashed against his with possessive strength. When he finally sank into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to force him to stop being gentle. Of course, he got your silent beg and fucked you like your body had been made specifically for him. Each trust was a claim, each movement a silent way to call you his.
You traded bites on the shoulders and neck. You scratched down his back, your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched up to meet him, like you were competing to see who would break first. Every time he hit that perfect, sweet spot, he’d let out a growl against the crook of your neck, and you’d respond by pulling him deeper, refusing to let him have the final word.
When the end finally came, it was a mutual destruction. Junmyeon collapsed over you, his skin slick with sweat and his breathing ragged, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You weren’t any better, your fingers trembling, debating whether to hold him or not. But... both of you refused to really move.
“T-this was a mistake, Kim,” you breathed, breaking the ice, your voice a shaky whisper.
Junmyeon shifted, his jaw tightening as he looked down at you, his eyes still dark and unhinged. “The worst one of my life.”
However, his hand was already sliding back down to your hip, his thumb tracing the jagged mark he’d left there. Of course, you did fuck again that night, and the next days after... and the next weeks, like hooking up and hating each other were part of a balance.
You walked into the office with your jaw set and your stomach growling, the lack of breakfast making your temper a live wire. The moment you rounded the corner, you saw him.
Junmyeon was leaning against the edge of your desk, looking infuriatingly composed in a charcoal three-piece suit that hugged his shoulders perfectly. The silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose were a direct insult to your exhaustion—he looked stupidly, effortlessly attractive for 9 AM, especially for a man who had spent the night losing his mind in your sheets.
“You’re a minute late,” he noted, checking his watch with a slow, deliberate movement. A small, mocking smirk played on his lips. “Having trouble getting out of bed this morning?”
“Move,” you snapped, dropping your purse onto your chair with a heavy thug, “if you don’t wanna die today.”
Junmyeon let out a soft, raspy laugh. “Rude.”
“Get off my desk,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. “Go hover over somewhere else and let me work.”
“Easy, easy. I was just making sure you hadn’t fainted from exhaustion,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for you to catch his scent. “You seemed quite drained.”
“In your dreams,” you hissed, your eyes flashing. “Now get out before I report you for being a pain in the ass.”
Junmyeon straightened up, adjusting his cuffs with a smug, triumphant look. “See you at the briefing. Try to keep up.”
He could be incredibly annoying for no reason, and the urge to punch his perfect features was clear now, but he escaped before you could do anything.
And just like that, the rest of the morning was a blur of spreadsheets and mounting irritation.
“Hey, Junmyeon,” Chanyeol said, pointing toward his own neck. “You okay? You’ve got a couple of marks right there.”
You froze. Your hand was hovering over the print button, almost crumpling the documents in your other hand, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Junmyeon didn’t even flinch. He reached up, casually adjusting his tie, his expression the picture of bored indifference. “Oh, those? Just a mosquito. A very aggressive one. I think it got into my apartment last night and wouldn’t let me sleep.”
“A mosquito?” Chanyeol asked, skeptical. “That looks more like—”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon interrupted, his voice flat and professional, though you caught the way his eyes darted toward you for a fraction of a second. “Anyway, about those quarterly projections…”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek. The mental image of Junmyeon growling into your ear while you sank your teeth into his neck was a vivid memory from last night. You kept your back to them, staring intently at the printer tray, trying to erase it from your mind.
Later that day, the only thing more hollow than your stomach was your patience. You marched into the break room, desperate for a caffeine fix to dampen the hunger pangs, only to find the source of your misery already there.
Junmyeon was standing by the counter, leaning over his mug with an air of smug tranquility. Just as he reached out to lift the steaming cup to his lips, you swiped it from under his hand with a fluid, practiced motion.
“Hey!” he protested, his hand clutching at empty air as he turned a sharp glare toward you. “That’s mine. Get your own.”
“Consider it a tax,” you snapped, taking a long, defiant sip while looking him dead in the eye. “It’s entirely your fault I haven’t eaten a single thing today.”
Junmyeon let out a low, raspy chuckle, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. The movement made the charcoal fabric of his suit jacket pull tight across his chest. “Are you really this worked up over a yogurt? It was a strawberry. You don’t even like strawberries that much.”
“It was my strawberry yogurt, you thief,” you hissed. “And you knew exactly what you were doing when you cleared it out of my fridge.”
“I was hungry,” he said simply, a playful glint in his eyes that made you want to kick him. “Besides, you’re much more interesting when you’re hangry.”
You reached past him, your hand diving into his open lunch bag on the counter. Before he could react, you snatched the last thick slice of crusty bread he’d tucked away. “Then I’m taking this.”
“Hey! That’s mine!”
You stood your ground, the stolen bread in one hand and his coffee in the other, feeling the familiar adrenaline that only he could provoke.
“That’s mine now,” you muttered, already backing toward the door.
“C’mere!” he retorted, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register. “I don’t wanna repeat it again.”
You stopped at the threshold, a slow, predatory smile spreading across your face. You let your gaze drift pointedly to his neck, where the collar of his expensive shirt was still struggling to do its job.
“Junmyeon,” your voice dripping with sweet, faux-concern. “Maybe you should spend your lunch break hiding those ‘mosquito bites’. That’s a lack of professionalism, y’know?”
His smug expression didn’t just fade—it fractured to the point you thought his glasses had broken. For a split second, the composed version of him vanished.
Junmyeon opened his mouth to fire back—likely to remind you exactly who had left those marks—but the words died in his throat. He watched you stand there, defiantly chewing on his sourdough and holding his coffee like a trophy, and for once, he had no arguments.
You saw his jaw work, his eyes dark with a mixture of sheer annoyance and a kind of heat. Junmyeon looked genuinely surprised that you’d had the nerve to weaponize his own lie against him.
“Just… get out,” he finally muttered. He only had the heavy, frustrated weight of a man who knew he’d just been played at his own game.
“My pleasure,” you hummed, a purr of pure satisfaction.
You sauntered out of the break room without looking back, but you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into the back of your neck. He wouldn’t follow you, and he certainly wouldn’t admit to anyone that you were the reason for his sudden silence. Junmyeon was too proud to let the office know that his rival had just walked off with his breakfast, his caffeine, and his dignity all in one go.
As you rounded the corner back to your desk, the coffee tasted better than anything you’d ever bought yourself. You knew this victory was temporary—he’d likely spend the rest of the afternoon plotting a way to make you pay for the sourdough—but for now, the silence coming from the break room was the sweetest sound in the building.
“It was a record-breaking month,” the manager’s voice boomed in the sudden silence. “But as always, one person pushed just a little bit harder.”
Friday afternoon arrived. The stress was a living thing, fueled by the fact that the “Seller of the Month” announcement was a minute aside. Neither of you mentioned what happened again, but the way he watched you from across the meeting room told you he hadn’t forgotten the humiliation in the break room.
At the center of the room, your manager held the cream-colored envelope—the voucher for the weekend getaway.
You stood on the left, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your expression a mask of cold, professional indifference. Across the carpet, Junmyeon stood like a statue. He looked impeccable in a navy suit, his glasses catching the overhead light, but you noticed the way his fingers twitched against his thigh.
You felt Junmyeon’s gaze cut toward you. It was a silent prepare to lose. You tilted your chin up, your eyes promising him a slow, public demise.
“By a margin of only two sales.” The silence was deafening. “Kim Junmyeon is the new winner."
The room erupted into applause. Junmyeon didn’t jump for joy; he smiled with confidence, stepping forward, and took the envelope. He shook the manager’s hand, thanked the team, and then turned his head just enough to catch your eye.
The look he gave you was the look of a man who had not only won the war but was now deciding exactly how to punish his prisoner.
“Congratulations, Junmyeon,” you said, your voice dripping with a fake, honeyed warmth that you knew he absolutely loathed. You stepped forward, extending a hand. “Nobody deserves a break from all that strenuous effort quite like you do.”
Junmyeon took your hand, squeezing. He leaned in as if to give you a professional, friendly pat on the shoulder, but his hand landed on the back of your neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“Better luck next time, sweetheart,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to hear. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to actually hit your targets for once.”
“Aw, so arrogant.” Your smile never wavered as you leaned into his space, your lips almost brushing his cheek in what looked like a congratulatory gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll be too busy taking over the accounts you’re neglecting.”
You moved first. Your coworkers swarmed in, effectively diffusing the lethal air between you and Junmyeon with their oblivious enthusiasm.
“Nice work, Junmyeon! That coast trip is gonna be worth it!” Chanyeol shouted, slapping him on the back with enough force to make him stumble a half-step forward.
Junmyeon’s hand dropped from the back of your neck instantly. “Thanks, man. It was a tight race,” he said, his voice smoothing out into that polished, professional baritone that always made you want to roll your eyes.
“And hey,” Minho said, turning to you with a sympathetic wince. “You’ll get him next month. You were so close. Seriously, just one more lead and he’d be the one sitting here looking miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” you lied, forcing a sharp, practiced smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m just already planning his downfall. Someone has to keep his ego from floating away.”
“Well said!” Hana got close to you, holding your arm with a cheerful vibe. “Crash him!”
“Yup, you will need luck for next month, Kim.” Minji appeared with Sora, who was laughing.
Junmyeon let out a short, dry chuckle, tucking the voucher into his breast pocket with a flourish that was meant only for you. “Careful. Overconfidence is usually what leads to second place. But I appreciate the congratulations, guys.”
The group laughed, the tension you had been building in the dark corners of the conversation dissipating into mundane office chatter. Slowly, the crowd began to thin, people drifting back to their cubicles to finish their final Friday tasks.
Junmyeon didn’t give you a second glance. He simply turned his back on you, curving his lips in a smug smile, leaning over his desk to check an email. He knew he had pissed you off successfully.
You sat back down at your desk, not just feeling defeated, but with the urge to kill him slowly. You could see the back of his head, the way his dark hair was perfectly styled, and the way his shoulders looked broad and immovable in that suit, acting as if the win was purely professional. You hated that.
You spent the next hour typing with a ferocity that threatened your keyboard, your jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every time you heard the crinkle of the envelope from his side of the desk, your blood spiked.
By 5:00 PM, the office was a ghost town. You were still there, staring at a spreadsheet you had already finished, waiting for something. You heard the rustle of fabric, the click of a briefcase, and then his footsteps.
Junmyeon walked past your desk without stopping.
“Bye, runner-up,” he said, his voice cool and detached as he headed for the elevators.
The anger was a hot, jagged stone in your chest as you watched the elevator numbers count down. You knew how he worked; Junmyeon didn’t just play the game, he manipulated the board. He hadn’t won because he was better; he’d won because he was devious.
You waited exactly five minutes—long enough to look like you were heading home, but short enough to catch him.
The basement parking lot was a concrete tomb, smelling of damp air. You spotted his car immediately. As you approached, the driver’s side window slid down.
“Coming?” His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that skipped down your spine. He looked infuriatingly smug behind the wheel.
Your purse hung lazily off your shoulder as you walked toward the passenger door. You didn’t smile. You gave him the look he knew best—the one that promised you weren’t there to congratulate him, but to ruin his victory. You yanked the door open and dropped into the leather seat, the scent of his cologne immediately filling your lungs.
“You’re late.” His voice dropped into that dark, flirtatious register that only came out when the office cameras were off.
“Shut up,” you snapped. You reached across the center console, your fingers hooking into the silk of his tie and yanking him toward you with enough force to make his neck snap forward.
You brought your face inches from his, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “You cheated. We both know it.”
Junmyeon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his hands flying to your waist to haul you closer. A slow, dark smirk spread across his face as he looked at your mouth. “Prove it,” he challenged, his eyes flashing with that familiar, unhinged hunger. “Planning on punishing me for it?”
Junmyeon was enjoying it—the aggression, the way you treated him like a criminal. You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the muscle jump and tighten beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. His breath hitched, turning rough and shallow as he leaned into your touch, his own hands traveling up your back to pull you flush against him.
When your lips finally crashed into his, it was a collision of teeth and tongue, fueled by the bitter adrenaline of the afternoon. It was angry and desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening as he prepared to take exactly what he wanted.
But the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, to claim the satisfaction of a second win for the day, you pulled back.
You broke the contact abruptly, leaving him breathless and leaning into empty air. You smoothed your hair back with a clinical, cold precision and leaned back into your seat, a sharp, triumphant glint in your eyes.
“Not tonight,” you whispered, your voice a lethal purr as you reached for the door handle.
Junmyeon was speechless, leaning toward you, his pupils blown wide, his hands still hovering near your waist as if he could physically pull the “yes” out of you. “What—where you going?” His fingers were grazing the fabric of your skirt.
You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, faux-sympathetic pout pull at your lips. You reached out, patting his cheek with a condescending softness that felt like a slap.
“Oh, Junmyeon,” you sighed, your voice dripping with mock pity as you watched the frustration boil behind his eyes. “You look so... desperate. It’s almost sad. But I’m afraid I’m not on the menu tonight.”
“What do you mean?” he hissed, his jaw tightening so hard you could hear the bone click.
“It means I have much better plans,” you said, checking your reflection in the front mirror, fixing your lipstick and hair. “The girls and I are heading out. Drinks, dancing, and absolutely zero mention of you.”
The mention of your friends—the same ones who had just been strengthening your resolve to kick his ass—made his expression shift from heat to pure, unadulterated annoyance.
“You’re really going to choose a night of cheap cocktails over me?” he challenged, his voice straining, trying to sound indifferent.
“In a heartbeat,” you whispered, leaning in one last time just to leave a kiss on his jaw, leaving a perfect red mark of lipstick there before yanking the door handle. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”
You stepped out, the sound of your heels clicking sharply against the concrete like a victory march. As you shut the door, you looked back through the window one last time. He was sitting there, eyes closed, his tie crooked, his pulse visible in his neck, gripping the wheel harder enough to notice his frustration bubbling up.
You just kept walking, laughing all the way to the elevator, leaving him exactly where you wanted him: wanting more and having nothing.
Three rounds in, the alcohol had softened the sharp edges of the week, and you, Sora, Minji, and Hana were hunched over a sticky table, howling with laughter and absurdity.
“You know,” Minji said, her eyes twinkling with that specific brand of drunken mischief, “I was looking at the two of you during the announcement today. Despite all the ‘I hope you trip into a volcano’ glares... you and Junmyeon would actually make a terrifyingly hot couple.”
You nearly choked on your drink, a spray of gin and tonic barely missing the table. “Minji, please. I’d rather date a cactus!”
“I don’t know…” Sora chimed in, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking at him. It’s not just rivalry. It’s like he wants to... eat you. Or ruin you. Or both.”
“Yeah, my career,” you corrected, though your heart did a traitorous little flip.
Hana, never one to let a fire die out, poured more gasoline. “Oh, he’s definitely got that energy. Y’know, the one who looks like a perfect gentleman in that suit but probably has a whole different personality in bed.”
“Stop! This is ridiculous!” you laughed, trying to wave them off, but your face felt suspiciously warm. “He’s a robot.”
“A very attractive robot,” Minji countered, wagging her eyebrows. “C’mon. You’ve been in close quarters with him for months. Can’t you tell me you haven’t noticed the aura? He’s got that ‘good in bed’ energy. Like, really good.”
You had to bite your tongue so hard it actually hurt.
“I wouldn’t know,” you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the internal chaos. “I’m too busy trying not to get a headache from his cologne.”
“Bet he’s a biter,” Sora added thoughtfully, tapping her chin.
“Nah, he likes being bitten,” Hana corrected. “You haven’t seen his neck?”
“I saw it too!” Minji laughed. “It’s always the ones who look the most composed who are the most unhinged behind closed doors, huh?” She patted your arms, noticing you were deadly silent, swallowing your words.
The irony was so thick you could taste it. You were sitting there, while your friends spent twenty minutes dissecting the exact sexual prowess of the man who had been hooking up with you for months.
“You guys are obsessed,” you said, letting out a genuine, breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t wanna talk about my nemesis here! C’mon, it’s girl night!”
“Fine, fine.” Hana laughed, raising her glass. “But mark my words. One of these days, that tension is going to snap, and I’ll be nearby when it happens.”
It already snapped, Hana, you thought, taking a long, triumphant sip of your drink.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Minji said, her eyes widening as she slammed her glass onto the table. “I just remembered. You two live in the same building!”
The table went silent for a heartbeat before erupting.
“Oh, you’ve been holding out on us!” Sora squealed, leaning so far across the table she was practically in your lap. “That means you see him in the wild. Does he wear those suits to get the mail?”
“It’s just a building!” You tried desperately to keep your voice from trembling. “I barely see him.”
“Liar!” Hana pointed a finger at you, her face flushed with gin-induced excitement. “Look at her—she’s got that look. You’ve seen something, haven’t you? What is it? His gym routine? He looks good in gray sweatpants and sweaty?”
“Hana, stop,” you laughed, though the mental image of Junmyeon in anything casual—or nothing at all—was currently playing on a loop in your brain.
“Bet his apartment is just as cold and clinical as his office,” Minji mused, her mind clearly heading into dirtier territory. “All glass and chrome. Very American Psycho. I bet he’s the type who watches himself in the mirror while he—”
“Minji!” you gasped, actually laughing. “You’re officially banned from talking for the rest of the night.”
“No, tell us!” Sora insisted, grabbing your arm. “Have you ever been in his place? Or has he been in yours? Oh my god… imagine the tension in that elevator. Just the two of you, floor after floor, staring at the numbers, knowing you hate each other but also knowing he’s... well, he’s him."
You thought about that very elevator—the way the doors had hissed shut, the way he’d slammed his hands against the wall, the way you’d yanked his tie until he stumbled.
Shit.
“No… definitely not,” you managed to say, your face burning.
“She’s blushing!” Hana screamed, attracting looks from the neighboring tables. “She’s totally thinking about him! C’mon! If you don’t tell us right now, I’m gonna call him myself and ask.”
“You wouldn’t dare…” Though a part of you knew Hana was drunk enough to try.
“Then give us something!” Sora pleaded. “Just one detail.”
You took a long, slow sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to soothe the heat in your cheeks. You thought about the bite mark on his neck, the way he’d growled your name into the mattress, and the look of pure, unhinged frustration on his face when he cu—
You shook your head, forcing a look of mild boredom. “I saw him running once.” You offered a small, shrug-like gesture as if the memory was barely worth the effort to recall. “Late at night. He had headphones on and looked just as miserable as he does when I’m beating his sales numbers. We didn’t even speak. That’s the extent of our ‘neighborly’ relationship.”
“Just once?” Sora asked, her voice dripping with disappointment. “No late-night elevator runs for snacks? No bumping into him while you’re both taking out the trash in your pajamas?”
“I’m pretty sure he purposely takes the service stairs just to avoid the risk of seeing my face and ruining his night,” you lied, the words tasting like gin.
“That sounds like him,” Hana muttered, swirling the ice in her glass. “The man is so dedicated to being your enemy that he’d probably move out if he thought you were getting too comfortable.”
“Exactly!” you said, taking a long, casual sip of your drink. “He’s just a guy who lives in the same building and makes my life a living hell from nine to five.”
You leaned back, letting their chatter wash over you as they finally shifted the topic to Minji’s dating app disasters. Inside, your heart was still thudding a mile a minute.
Admitting the truth—that you knew exactly what he looked like when he was out of breath, or that he’d been in your bed at 3:00 AM more times than you could count—would change everything. You weren’t ready to share the satisfaction of having Junmyeon exactly where you wanted him.
But as you laughed at Minji’s stories, your hand ghosted over your phone in your purse. You wondered if he was still sitting in that car, fuming, or if he was already back at the building, waiting for the sound of your heels in the hallway.
The walk from the taxi to the elevator ride felt lonely, boring with the lack of his presence. When the doors hissed open on your floor, instead of turning left toward your own door, you found yourself standing in front of his.
You were so close to knocking, close enough to imagine him on the other side—maybe sitting on that leather sofa with a glass of bourbon, still wearing that navy suit, and fuck.
With a sharp, internal snap, you pulled your hand back. Not tonight.
You turned on your heel and marched the few steps to your own door. When you tried to shove the key into the lock, your coordination betrayed you; the metal slipped, clattering clumsily to the floor.
“Shit.”
As you reached down to retrieve it, the floor seemed to tilt. You caught yourself against the wall, fingers splayed against the cold surface as the evening’s drinks finally caught up with you.
The elevator doors opened again. Junmyeon stepped out, winded from his run and radiating a heat that seemed to close the distance between you instantly. He was dressed in a black shirt and shorts, a light running jacket clinging to his frame in all the right places. His hair was damp, his chest heaved with every labored breath, and a single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple before disappearing into his collar. He didn’t even look up at you first; he was adjusting his glasses.
“Enjoying the view?”
His voice sent a treacherous shiver down your spine, snapping you out of a trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into. Junmyeon moved with an effortless grace that your own buzzed senses couldn’t match, unlocking his door in one fluid motion and leaving it ajar—a silent invitation.
The alcohol in your system felt like it had suddenly evaporated. You tightened your grip on your keys, the metal biting into your palm, before you crossed the threshold and shut the door behind you.
“I wasn’t looking at you.” But your eyes were fixed on the way his clothes matched his body proportions perfectly.
Junmyeon chuckled, tossing his watch and keys onto the table. He turned back to face you. “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, a dark, triumphant smirk finally spreading across his face. “Then why are you here?”
“I—just to clarify that. Yeah,” you stammered, the excuse sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “I should go.”
“Sure.” Junmyeon’s voice dropped to a low register. He didn’t move an inch back, but his scent was clouding your senses. “The door is right behind you.”
Your feet were stuck, and your gaze was locked on his lips, taking a step closer.
“That’s what I thought.”
As Junmyeon closed the final inch, your defenses evaporated. Your purse slid forgotten from your shoulder, and the keys you had been gripping so tightly clattered to the floor. You didn’t care. You reached for him, your composure snapping as you crashed your lips against his.
Junmyeon reacted instantly. He trapped you against the door, sliding down one of his hands, searingly hot, to find the hem of your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thigh with a proprietary force that made your knees buckle.
“Fuck—I hate you,” you gasped against his mouth.
“Not as much as I do,” Junmyeon murmured, tearing his mouth from yours to trail a path of heat down your jaw. His lips found the frantic pulse in your neck, devouring your skin, leaving hot marks. Your fingers tangled desperately into his hair, pulling him closer.
You shrugged out of your blazer, the fabric hitting the floor to join your keys and purse. Junmyeon slid his hand further up your skirt, then rubbed his fingers against your panties. The sudden, hot realization of your own wetness made every sensation feel amplified, a deep ache settling in your cunt that only he could soothe.
Junmyeon’s mouth remained anchored to your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while his free hand began to work the buttons of your blouse with a practiced, agonizing slowness. He exposed more skin, centimeter by centimeter, following the trail of the fabric with hungry, wet, searing kisses.
Your hips began to buck instinctively against his hand, a silent, desperate plea for him to touch you properly, to rub harder against your folds. You were losing the battle, your breath hitching in broken gasps. You could feel the wetness of his tongue against your bra, his hot breath cooling against the fabric, claiming you.
Junmyeon pulled away barely an inch, looking at you with hungry eyes, his hot fingers leaving you shivering and bereft. You watched, breathless and whimpering against the door, as he brought his hand up between your faces. His two fingers were slick. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his fingers into his mouth, watching you gasp again.
Junmyeon licked them clean with his tongue, swallowing as he tasted you. The sight of his lips wrapped around his own fingers while he stared you down felt like it was certainly an erotic vow.
“Fucking delicious.”
His voice sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. You couldn’t even find a retort. All you could do was stare at his mouth, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, waiting for him to finish what he’d started.
“Jun—”
The friction of the lace was gone, replaced by the searing heat of his bare skin against yours. Junmyeon slid two fingers downward, finding your aching folds and directly rubbing them again with a heavy, rhythmic pressure that made your breath catch in a sharp, broken gasp.
“What is it?” His voice was thick with a dark sort of pride, ghosting your lips. “So desperate, doll.”
Before you could snap back, he collided his lips against your mouth and drove his fingers inside your cunt. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your teeth sinking into his lower lip in a sharp, instinctive bite. Junmyeon’s mouth curved into a smirk against yours, savoring the sting, groaning. He knew he had you.
His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you with a ruthless precision that forced you to cling to his shoulders. You arched your back, your spine hitting the door as you bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the friction. He hummed in approval, a low vibration you felt deep in your chest, before his lips began a slow, torturous descent.
“Fuck! Don’t stop—ah.”
Junmyeon trailed wet, lingering kisses down your throat and over the swell of your chest, his breath hot through the thin fabric of your bra. When he finally caught your nipple between his teeth, biting down through the lace, the double hit of pleasure made your head toss back.
The wet, rhythmic sound of his fingers with vengeance, the friction even more intense. Junmyeon began scissoring his fingers deep inside you, catching your rhythm and then shattering it by going faster, harder, until your senses were completely blinded. You were a live wire in his hands, your gasps turning into frantic, wordless pleas as the coiling heat tightened once again, turning into a searing, unbearable pressure.
“Shit—yes.”
You were right there, your body trembling, your vision blurring as you prepared to shatter. And then, with the surgical precision of a man who knew exactly how to break you, Junmyeon stopped.
“Son of a bitch!” You let out a desperate, strangled sound—a mix of a sob and a moan—as your orgasm retreated just as it reached its peak.
Your legs were shaking so violently you had to lean your entire weight against the door just to stay upright, your inner muscles twitching and aching for more. You looked at him through a haze of frustration, your eyes stinging with the sheer need of it.
Junmyeon was looking at you, his chest rising and falling in a steady, maddeningly calm rhythm, lips curved, and that triumphant chuckle.
“C’mon, honey. You can resist a little tease.” His voice was smooth and terrifyingly steady. He was so close to your face, you could feel his warm breath. “Right?”
“You... bastard!” you managed to choke out, your voice a fractured wreck of its former self. You tried to reach for him, but your coordination was gone, your body heavy and oversensitive. “Just—finish it.”
“But that won’t be fun,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth.
Junmyeon just watched you—watched the way your breath hitched and the way your hands clawed at his shoulders—completely unfazed by the storm he had unleashed inside you. He was the one in total control, and he was savoring every second of your undoing.
“Please—Junmyeon, please.”
“Can make an exception.”
The agonizingly slow drag of his fingers returned, a deliberate, torturous rhythm that felt like he was mocking your desperation. Junmyeon was playing with you, teasing your sensitized flesh with a casual cruelty that left you utterly powerless. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought; your world had shrunk to the point where his hand met your body. You bucked your hips instinctively, trying to force a faster pace, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his forearm in a silent, white-knuckled plea for him to just keep going.
“So impatient,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against your jaw. He trailed his tongue along the sensitive line of your neck, his breath hitching.
Just as the frustration peaked, his fingers snapped back into a blurring, ruthless speed, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight up your spine, your head snapping back against the door. You whimpered, the sound broken and raw, but the fear of him stopping again was more intense than the pleasure itself.
“P-please,” you finally gasped out, the word shattering the last of your pride. Your eyes were shut tight, your body arching into his as the coiling tension in your core became an unbearable, white-hot knot. “Junmyeon, please... don’t stop. Not again. I can’t—I’ll do whatever you want, just—shit. Don’t stop.”
Junmyeon let out a low, triumphant growl, his teeth grazing your earlobe as his pace turned even more punishing. “Oh?”
He pushed you past the breaking point, his fingers relentless and cruel as he kept you balanced on that jagged, unbearable edge. He adjusted his rhythm just enough to keep the tension coiling tighter, turning the pleasure into a beautiful, agonizing form of torture.
“What is it?” His voice dropped. He stopped his fingers for a heartbeat, hovering just at the entrance of your cunt. “Wanna cum?”
The frustration finally broke you. Tears of pure, overstimulated desperation welled in your eyes, blurring the sight of his smug, hot face. You nodded frantically, your pride evaporated.
“Yes,” you choked out. “Yes, damn it. Yes!”
“Good girl.”
Junmyeon drove his fingers back inside with a brutal, blurring speed, his thumb finding that aching spot with a proprietary force. You whimpered into his shoulder as your orgasm finally crashed over you, a violent, bone-deep release that felt like an explosion.
Your inner walls clenched around his fingers in frantic, rhythmic waves, milking the friction as you bucked helplessly against him. Your legs gave out completely, leaving you hanging on his frame as your body was racked by tremor after tremor.
Junmyeon watched you with a look of dark, satisfied possession, savoring the way you were reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess in his arms.
Junmyeon carried you effortlessly, your arms locked around his neck, before he dropped you onto the middle of his bed. The moment your back hit the mattress, you reached for him, pulling him down into a raw kiss. Your hands roamed over him, desperate to find skin, and the friction was so intense he finally bucked under your touch.
He couldn’t resist you any longer as you finished the job with your blouse, tossing it aside. Junmyeon surged forward, his mouth hungry and desperate as he attacked your neck, his breath coming in jagged lunges. He made quick work of your bra, and when your skin was finally exposed to the cool air, he didn’t give you a second to breathe. He buried his face against your tits, his kisses desperate and wide-mouthed as he devoured you.
“Junmyeon... please,” you moaned, your voice a fractured wreck as you arched your body off the sheets. Your hips were already moving in a frantic, instinctive search for pressure. “I need you.”
Junmyeon pulled back for a single heartbeat, looking down at you, swollen lips and his eyes dark, hungry, letting you take his glasses off. Without a word, he yanked his shirt over his head, muscles tensing under the dim light, before he dropped between your legs.
“Yes—”
He stripped your panties and your skirt away with a ruthless efficiency, his mouth immediately finding the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Junmyeon trailed wet, searing kisses upward, marking every inch of you, his hands gripping your knees to keep you open for him.
“I know you need me, doll,” he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin. “C’mere.”
Junmyeon adjusted his position until he could settle himself firmly beneath you. He made you sit right on his face, the heat of his skin meeting the slick, aching center of your pussy. Your legs were already trembling violently, your senses so overstimulated that the mere proximity of him made your head spin.
You felt his hands slide up to your waist, anchoring you in place, before he delivered a giant, wet lick that traced you from bottom to top. The raw sensation of his tongue against your slit made you gasp into the empty room, your fingers dropping his glasses aside, clawing at the sheets as you buckled over him, completely at the mercy of his mouth.
You lost it immediately, your body jerking on top of him as your damp, swollen folds met the relentless heat of his mouth. He wasn’t being polite; he was loud and messy, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you and his moans filling the quiet of the bedroom and making your skin flush a deep, frantic red.
Junmyeon was devouring you with a desperation that told you he’d been starving as much as you did. Every slow, heavy stroke of his tongue against your slit sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to your brain. You were squirming, rocking your hips as you tried to find a rhythm, but he was too fast, too thorough.
“Ah—Junmyeon, fuck!” you choked out, your fingers finding his hair, practically pulling at the roots.
In a fit of pure, unadulterated lust, you tried to squeeze your inner thighs against his head, wanting to trap him there, to force him even deeper into your mess. Junmyeon let out a muffled, dark growl against your skin, his hands sliding up to your ass to grip you with a bruising force, holding you steady as he focused entirely on your clit.
Junmyeon began to suck at that tiny, overstimulated point of nerves, his tongue swirling around it with a rhythmic, drowning pressure. You were a complete wreck, your voice high and jagged as you cried out, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his mouth. He was making a total mess of you, the slick evidence of your desire coating his lips and chin, but he didn’t care. He just drank you in, his breathing ragged and loud between every hungry lap.
“Shit, shit, shit. Yes!”
You were completely undone, the friction of his tongue driving you into a fever state where the only thing that existed was the wet, rhythmic sound of him eating you out. You turned your head a second, your vision swimming, and saw that he had kicked his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself.
His hand was clamped around his cock, his fist moving in a fast, punishing blur as he jerked himself off. You could see the veins standing out on his forearm, the sheer force of his grip as he squeezed himself hard, his knuckles white.
“Fucking hell—you’re so addictive,” he groaned, making your core throb with a renewed, agonizing intensity.
You couldn’t help yourself, your voice a broken, breathless wreck as his mouth continued to claim you.
“Don’t... don’t you dare stop,” you hissed, your hands grabbing the headboard as you bucked your hips against his face. “Fucking eat me. Ah—just like that.”
You turned your head again. The sight of him working himself to the rhythm of his own tongue lapping at your slit was too much. You tried to squeeze your thighs against his face again, wanting to feel the vibration of his growls deep in your bones.
Junmyeon let out a jagged, guttural sound, his fist moving even faster as he buried his face deeper into your pussy—his tongue swirling around your clit with ruthless pressure.
“Fuck!”
The second climax hit you far more violently than before. Your swollen folds were almost too sensitive to bear, but the relentless pressure of his mouth wouldn’t let you escape. You felt your inner walls contract in frantic, agonizing spasms, the orgasm finally snapping through you. A raw, jagged cry teared from your throat as you shattered completely, your entire body vibrating against him, digging your nails into the headboard.
At that exact same moment, Junmyeon’s own control finally disintegrated. His fist worked in one last, punishing blur against his cock, and he let out a loud, choked-off shout—a sound of pure, unbridled release.
His body jolted violently against your thighs, his muscles locking tight. The sheer force of the climax left him physically drained, his grip on your waist finally loosening as he slumped forward.
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale against your skin, holding you as the aftershocks continued to roll through you. He lingered, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes to clean you. The sensation was almost too much for your overstimulated nerves.
“Fuck,” you gasped, though your hands were still buried in his hair, pulling him closer.
When Junmyeon finally shifted, he pulled you up, his muscles slick and straining as he guided you to sit firmly on his lap. You were face-to-face now, your skin flushed and damp, meeting the beautiful, honest mess that was left of his control. He leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving in heavy, jagged lunges. The tension that usually tightened his shoulders was gone, replaced by a raw, satisfied relief.
“You look far too proud of yourself,” you whispered, your voice a breathless wreck as you pushed a stray, damp lock of hair from his forehead.
“I think I’ve earned it,” he rasped, his eyes hooded and dark with a proprietary heat, smirking. “I didn’t know my name could sound that filthy in your mouth.”
“You arrogant bastard,” you breathed, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips.
“And yet, here you are,” he countered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin.
“Just because your tongue does better things than fight me back.” Testing the waters, you reached down, your finger tracing the hypersensitive tip of his length.
The contact made him hiss a jagged curse, his entire body jerking involuntarily. “Fuck—you vixen!” He winced, the pleasure-pain of the post-orgasm sensitivity hitting him hard, but he did tilt his hips into your touch.
“What? I’m just admiring the mess you made,” you teased, your finger circling his tip again, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the sheets. “You were louder tonight, Junmyeon. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Don’t start,” he warned, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I wasn’t the one begging tonight.”
“You’re the one who pushed me there,” you countered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear. “You wanted me desperate. Needy.”
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale, his head falling back against the wood. “Y-yeah. I wanted to ruin you.” He looked at your hand again, watching with a dark, mesmerized intensity as you continued to stroke him. Even though he was spent, even though he was raw, he let you touch, his breath hitching every time your skin grazed his.
“You’re addicted to this,” you whispered, looking up at him, curving your lips. “To me.”
“Completely,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a vulnerable, honest low.
You shifted your weight and wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his length. Junmyeon let out a sharp, fractured breath that sounded almost like a sob.
“Oh, Kim,” you whispered, leaning in until your lips grazed his ear, curving your lips. “Reduced to a shaking mess because I’m barely touching you?”
You started to jerk him off, your rhythm slow, designed to draw out every ounce of his sensitivity. Junmyeon hissed a string of jagged curses, his head snapping back against the headboard, his eyes squeezed shut as his body jolted.
“You like this, don’t you?” you purred. You leaned forward and sank your teeth into his lower lip, biting just hard enough to make him groan.
“Fuck…” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip your waist with a white-knuckled intensity. He tried to pull you closer, his hips bucking upward in a desperate search for more, but you held him back, keeping the pace agonizingly steady.
“Uh-uh.” Your hand tightened slightly as you moved up to his tip, watching his throat move as he swallowed hard. “You enjoyed watching me struggle, hmm? You liked making me wait and beg.”
You leaned back just enough to look at him—his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes desperate. Junmyeon looked completely undone.
“Now it’s your turn,” you purred, your thumb circling the sensitive tip of him until his breath hitched and stayed there. “I think I’m going to keep you right here for a while. I want to hear you beg.”
“You—you cruel woman,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering open, dark and hazed with a mix of pain and pure, unadulterated lust.
“Uh-uh. I’m just playing your game,” you countered. “Don’t complain when I use it all on you.”
You pulled your hand away with a sharp, clinical suddenness, mirroring the exact cruelty he’d shown you. Junmyeon’s hips bucked reflexively, chasing the heat that had just vanished, and he let out a strangled, desperate sound that was half-growl, half-sob.
“Don’t—” he rasped, his eyes snapping open, wide and hazed with a frantic kind of need. He reached for you, his fingers brushing your waist, but you pulled just out of reach, moving back on the bed.
“What?” Your voice was airy and teasing as you watched him tremble. “I thought maybe you liked the wait.”
“Shit—please,” he groaned, looking utterly wrecked, his chest heaving, his pride lying in tatters on the floor. “Don’t do this. Please… fuck, I’m begging you.”
“Are you?” You knelt between his legs, your shadow falling over his flushed skin. You reached out, your finger grazing the slick, pearly cum at his tip, and then you brought them to your lips, tasting him right in front of his eyes.
Junmyeon let out a hissed, jagged breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets.
“Who’s in charge, Junmyeon?” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.
“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Y-you are. Just... please, do it.”
Satisfied with the brokenness in his tone, you leaned down. You started by swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, catching every drop of his sensitivity. Junmyeon groaned, his hands flying to your hair, guiding you, his fingers trembling against your scalp.
Then, you took him into your mouth, swallowing him whole.
The low, guttural sound he made was pure animal instinct. His hips began to move lazily, a rhythmic, desperate thrust against your mouth as he fought to stay conscious. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat sent a violent jolt of heat straight to your own cunt; you were so wet you could feel your inner walls clenching around nothing, aching for a fullness that only he could provide.
“Fuck... yes! Right there.” His voice was a fractured wreck as his grip on your hair tightened, anchoring you to him. “Don’t… don’t you fucking stop. I’m gonna—shit.”
Junmyeon was completely at your mercy, his breathing turning into sharp, frantic hitches as your tongue worked over him, driving him toward a peak that he couldn’t escape. He was loud, messy, and entirely yours, his swearing turning into wordless pleas as he teetered on the very edge of his sanity, his chest heaving, his hip colliding uncoordinated with your face.
You reached down with your free hand, your fingers curling around him to squeeze his balls with a firm, proprietary grip, while your other hand jerked him with a fast, ruthless rhythm.
“Ah—yes, baby,” he choked out, his hands tangling desperately in your hair. “You’re fucking killing me. Shit—”
“Shh,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to give him a messy kiss. “You’re doing so good for me, Junmyeon. Such a good, obedient boy.”
“Don’t—” he groaned, a jagged, broken sound. “Please.” He shut his eyes, his hands trembling.
“What?” You smirked, grazing your lips on his, jerking him off. “You like it when I call you good boy?”
He barely nodded, probably ashamed that the lust was deeper. “Fuck, please... just finish me. Please?”
“I didn’t hear you.” Your fist squeezed harder. “You like it?”
“Yes! Fuck—I do!”
Satisfied, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him deep, swallowing his whole cock. Junmyeon groaned so loud that it made your own core pulse with a frantic, wet ache. You were a winner, and you both knew it—you could feel it in the way his muscles were locked tight, the way his swearing turned into a high, frantic whine.
“Yes, ah—yes!”
Junmyeon finally broke. With a loud, guttural groan, his body jolted violently. He came with a force that was staggering, hot sperm hitting the back of your throat as he pumped into your mouth. You coughed, trying to take every bit of him, even as it became too much to swallow, the excess dripping down your chin and onto your chest.
Junmyeon was completely overwhelmed, his body racking with aftershocks so intense his legs were still twitching against the sheets. He slumped back, his hands finally falling limp from your hair, his breathing coming in shallow, sobbing gasps.
You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a triumphant, predatory smile on your face. You were covered in him—your lips, your chin, your skin—and the sight of him so utterly destroyed and overstimulated made you feel more powerful than any boardroom victory ever could.
You leaned down and mashed your mouth against his, a slow, sloppy kiss that was pure mockery. You deliberately smeared the slick evidence of his orgasm across his lips, tasting yourself and him all at once. Neither of you gave a shit about being clean; you were both too far gone, completely feral and obsessed.
“Tastes good, hmm?” you whispered against his mouth, your lips wet and glistening. “But you look like a fucking mess, Kim.”
Junmyeon let out a dark, ragged chuckle that sounded more like a growl, his eyes snapping open with a dangerous, predatory spark. “You think you fucking broke me? You think you’re in control because you can make me beg?”
Before the words could even fully leave his mouth, he gripped your waist and flipped you onto your back with a sudden, bruising force. The weight of his sticky, warm body pinned you flat against the mattress. You immediately felt the scorching heat of him—thick, heavy, and hard again, pressed right against your slick cunt.
“I’m gonna make you eat every single one of those words,” he rasped, his voice dropping to a filthy, gravelly whisper.
Junmyeon didn’t ease into you. He slammed his hips forward, burying his entire length inside you in one deep, ruthless thrust that bottomed out completely. You let out a sharp, high-pitched whimper, your toes curling as your overstimulated walls, raw from the previous orgasms, clenched around him like a vice. It was so intense that you reacted purely on instinct, arching your spine and biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Fuck—” Junmyeon groaned, tasting the copper on his tongue and immediately driving into you harder, his pace turning fast and punishing. “Fucking bite me again, you little psycho. Shit—you’re so goddamn tight.”
“Shut up and just fuck me, Junmyeon!” Your hands flew to his back, your nails digging into his skin and dragging down until you left long, angry red tracks. “Don’t you dare slow down—I wanna feel every fucking inch of you.”
“You like it rough, huh? You like it when I don’t give you a choice,” he half-growled, half-chuckled, his breathing coming in heavy, jagged lunges as the headboard began to slam violently against the wall.
He reached down, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it high over his shoulder to open you up even more, angling his hips to hit that exact, agonizing spot inside you over and over again. He had you whimpering, incapable of saying a word but raw moans from your lips.
“Yes, doll. Look at how open you are for me. Shit—who owns this pathetic, aching pussy right now.”
With a low growl, Junmyeon slid his hand up from your waist, his palm wrapping around the front of your neck. He pressed down firmly, pinning you to the pillows. The sudden, heavy pressure on your throat sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight to your core. Your internal muscles reacted instantly, contracting violently and clenching around his thick cock.
“Fucking tight,” Junmyeon choked out, his jaw tight as your raw, hyper-sensitive walls squeezed him with an agonizingly perfect grip. “Say it. Who owns you.”
“You—you do,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, tears of pure, unadulterated pleasure blurring your vision as he absolutely devoured you from the inside out. “You do, fuck... Junmyeon—you feel so good. I’m gonna—”
“No, baby. You don’t cum until I tell you to,” Junmyeon swore, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his face flushed and his jaw locked in pure, obsessive lust. He slowed his pace for two agonizing strokes, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, making the friction so thick and wet it was deafening. “Swear to me, love. Swear you’re never gonna let anyone else touch you like this.”
“N-never,” you sobbed out, your hips instinctively bucking up to meet his heavy, brutal thrusts, completely addicted to the pain and the pleasure of him stretching you open. “Fucking ruin me, Junmyeon, please…”
You didn’t push his hand away. Instead, your fingers scrambled up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin—not to pull him off, but to anchor him there, silently demanding that he keep the pressure exactly where it was and push even deeper inside you.
“More,” you gasped out of breath, the word getting caught in your throat as tears of intense, overstimulated pleasure welled in your eyes and spilled down your temples. “I’m yours—I’m fucking yours!”
“That’s it. All mine,” he rasped, his own control disintegrating as his movements turned into a blurring, frantic frenzy of pure friction and sweat.
Neither of you could handle the raw, hyper-sensitive heat for more than a few minutes; it was a race to the absolute edge of your sanity, both of you completely lost in a blind, chaotic rhythm that was burning you both to the ground.
His heavy, sweat-slicked body was betraying him; every time he slammed deep inside you, a violent tremor would wrack his spine, his muscles locking up before he dragged himself back to plunge into you again. His lips were parted, his jaw strained so tight it looked like it would crack, and he was being incredibly loud, letting out deep, animalistic grunts and breathless curses with every heavy, wet thrust that echoed through the room.
“Jun—ah, please,” you choked out breathless, the sound barely escaping your throat as tears streamed down into your hair. Your hips bucked up on instinct, chasing the brutal friction, completely addicted to the agonizingly perfect pressure of his hand and his body. “I’m—I’m close—fuck, I can’t—”
“I know,” he growled, his gaze dark and hazed with an overwhelming, dangerous level of lust as he stared down at your wrecked face. Junmyeon finally freed your leg, but not your neck. He leaned down, his chest crushing your breasts, his mouth finding your ear as his hips accelerated into a blinding, frantic frenzy. “Just one… one more second. Shit—together. I wanna feel you crushing me.”
You nodded weakly. The raw sensation between your slick, swollen folds was deafening, a sloppy, desperate mess of skin against skin that threatened to burn you both down. Your fingers were clawing uselessly at his forearms as the pleasure became too intense to bear.
The press of his hand on your neck vanished the exact moment he lost it. A sharp, ragged gasp of air rushed back into your lungs just as your shared climax hit with a devastating, paralyzing force. Junmyeon’s control completely disintegrated; his hands slammed into the mattress on either side of your head, curling into white-knuckled fists as his entire body locked tight.
“Fuck…” he growled breathless.
You scrambled to hold him closer, wrapping your arms and trembling legs around his sweat-slicked frame, desperate to bridge any remaining distance, wanting to feel every single inch of your skin fused together. Inside you, his cock was throbbing violently, filling you up so completely that it felt like an electric current was surging through your veins. Your entire body was trembling, caught in a wave of violent, uncontrollable spasms.
Junmyeon couldn’t help himself—he gave a few final, sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts, rubbing your clit with his own thumbs, sending you entirely over the edge. Overstimulated to the point of delirium, you squirted against him, a high, fractured cry tearing from your throat and burying itself in the crook of his neck. You bit down on his shoulder, your nails anchoring deep into his back, riding the wave until he finally stopped moving altogether.
“Jesus Christ—Junmyeon!”
With a final, low groan, Junmyeon collapsed, his exquisite, heavy weight crushing you into the mattress. Neither of you moved an inch. You just lay there, a tangled tangle of limbs, sweaty, wet, and completely spent. Your internal walls and his muscles were still twitching with aftershocks as you both gasped for air.
Junmyeon let out a tired, breathless chuckle against your collarbone, the tension completely melted from his frame. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice a deep, gravelly ruin as he tightened one heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. “We... we need a shower.”
A breathless, exhausted laugh bubbled up from your chest, your lips brushing against his damp shoulder. “But you’re carrying me.”
“Deal.”
After the warm water of the shower had finally washed away the sticky, frantic evidence of the night, Junmyeon carried you back to the fresh side of the bed. The cool, clean sheets felt like heaven against your scrubbed skin, but you didn’t stay apart for long. Almost immediately, he pulled you against his chest, molding his body to your back and draping a heavy, possessive arm over your waist. He buried his face deep into the damp curve of your neck, his nose hidden in the strands of your hair as his breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic hum.
“Junmyeon?” you murmured. “That was my shampoo?”
He let out a lazy and completely unbothered song, shifting just a fraction, tightening his grip on your waist as if trying to physically anchor you into silence. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
You could hear the sheer exhaustion filling his lungs, his voice gravelly and weighed down by the sleep he was desperately chasing, but your curiosity got the better of you. “Don’t play dumb. You bought it, but you clearly haven’t used it. Why is it in there?”
“I like the smell,” he mumbled defensively into your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone.
A tiny, knowing smile tugged at your lips. Junmyeon had bought your exact shampoo just to have it ready for the moments you stayed over, a quiet gesture that felt incredibly loud.
Intrigued, you carefully rolled over within the tight circle of his arms to face him. The movement made him let out a soft, disgruntled groan, but he didn’t let you go. You blinked through the dark, finding his sleepy face just inches from yours. His eyes were tightly shut, his hair soft over his forehead, and his swollen lower lip was pulled into a faint, exhausted pout.
You reached up as you gently cupped his face. Your thumb brushed just below his eye, tracing the soft, relaxed skin. “Buying my shampoo just so when I’m here. Who knew my biggest rival was actually such a softie?”
Junmyeon let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated right against your fingertips. “I’m not soft,” he mumbled, his voice thick and entirely ruined by sleep. “I’m practical. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“It was also a practical move that you faked ending your run just when I came home?”
His eyes stayed shut, his arm tightening around your waist. “What the hell are you talking about? Please… go to sleep.”
“Liar,” you persisted, a sleepy, goofy smile spreading across your face as you remembered the struggle at your apartment door. "You were running with glasses, Junmyeon. You don’t do that. You just came because you saw me coming, fumbling with my keys, and then, you had the nerve to mock me.
“You were fumbling,” he murmured, a soft, amused laugh escaping his lips as he buried his face further into your hair, incapable of denying your accusation.
“I was perfectly sober,” you corrected, letting out a soft, absurd chuckle. “Those three cocktails didn’t even exist in my body. My system completely neutralized them.”
“Sure, sure.” He curved his lips, his voice thick with sleep. “We’ll see how that ‘neutralized’ system feels when the morning comes, and you’re begging me for aspirin.”
“Ugh, I hate you know me so well. But… you will give it to me just because I’m your favorite rival. Admit it.”
“Not quite sure,” he whispered back, finally wrapping his other arm around you to pull you completely into his space. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Maybe just for tonight.”
“Still wrong,” you mumbled. “I’m your only rival. Everyone else just lets you win. You’d be bored to death without me.”
Junmyeon let out one last, quiet chuckle; the sound felt warm and private. He shifted slightly, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
“Maybe you’re right.” His voice dropped to a low, sleepy confession. Before you could say another word, he guided your head down, nudging you until your face was completely hidden in the warm crook of his neck. “Sleep,” he whispered against your hair, his hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you tucked safely against him. “No more talking for tonight.”
You didn’t protest this time. Letting out a soft sigh, you wrapped one arm securely around his torso, anchoring him close. Your leg slid instinctively between his, lacing your limbs together under the heavy duvet until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.
As the heavy, comfortable silence of the room settled over you both once again, a quiet smile spread across your face, your eyes fluttering shut as you melted into his hold. And, against your hair, completely hidden in the dark (and the soft scent of your shampoo), Junmyeon was smiling too—neither of you truly knowing just how deeply the other was already losing the risky game.
✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼
↳ summary: a favor from your best friend spirals into something completely out of control
↳ wc: 7k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | smut, angst elements, some fluff | 18+ warnings: fingering, eaterrrrrr baek (oral sex - f receiving), hair pulling, raw p in v. some overstim, dirty talk, and implied cum eating but very light
↳ a/n: requested by lovely anon! i struggle so much with angst so i hope it at least partway delivers <3
“He’s such a fucking bum,” Baekhyun sighs. He throws the crumpled piece of paper in the air and it lands on your chest. “Who dumps people with a handwritten note?”
“That was so like him though,” you grumble. “He was so anti-phone. Every time I showed him a reel he would say, you know that stuff is rotting your brain, right?”
Baekhyun turns back from his position on the floor to look at you, scandalized. “You were sending him reels?”
“Yes?” You roll your eyes at his pout. “You know that you don’t like, own Instagram right? I’m allowed to send reels to other people besides you.”
“You’re not allowed to send reels to people that dump you through a handwritten note slid under your door.” He turns back around and leans his head back on the couch, the top of his head nearly touching your thigh. “You’re okay, though? You don’t seem very torn up about it.”
“What if I was?” you hum. “Would that be so terrible?”
“Are you?”
You aren’t. You’d dumped others and been dumped so many times but you’d never actually experienced heartbreak. It never felt real enough to you to feel the hurt. You’d simply nod and move on, blocking their numbers before you were even out the door. Baekhyun called you a sociopath, you called yourself realistic. Besides, who is he to judge anyways? How many nights have you spent rubbing his back because the pretty girl at the bar ghosted him? You think about saying this, but that wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say to your best friend, who was kind enough to open his door to you at midnight with no questions asked.
“He sucked,” you say instead.
“I could have told you that. I don’t think he knew my name. He just called everyone ‘bro.’ Even you.”
“He always made us split the bill when we went out.”
“I’m pretty sure he was trying to flirt with Jongin’s girlfriend last week.”
“He never ate me out.”
Baekhyun chokes, and for a second you think that maybe, for the first time in your fifteen years of friendship, you’ve gone too TMI. He makes that sound again, a strained, choking sound high in the back of his throat.
Then you realize that he’s laughing.
“Fuck off,” you mumble, tossing a throw pillow at his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wheezes. Is he wiping a fucking tear from his eyes right now? “It’s just like – go fucking figure, y’know?”
“What do you mean?”
He turns around to fully face you, still trying to stifle down his giggles. “Like, if there’s a guy who treats his girlfriend like shit there’s like a 90% chance he won’t go down on her either.”
Your eyebrows crease together. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why not?” he asks. “Like if a guy is a piece of shit he wouldn’t want to do something that’s solely for her pleasure. Of course he’d never turn down a blowjob, but the other way? No way.”
“But I don’t think it works the other way, right?” you say. “Like a guy can be a good partner but not do it.”
“I mean everyone has their preferences, I guess but a downright refusal without a good reason is kind of a red flag.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why are you getting defensive about this?”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are.”
“I guess ‘cus like… I’ve had partners that weren’t shitty people.”
Baekhyun falls silent, eyes wide and incredulous. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”
You groan and cover your burning face in your hands. “Can we drop it?”
“No one’s ever gone down on you?” he asks.
“Baek…”
“That’s fucking insane,” he mutters.
“Okay, well, since you’re the fucking sex expert how many times have you done it?” you spit out. You sit up, fully looking him in the eyes. The teasing glint is long gone now, replaced by something that you realize is close to pity.
“Like… every time?” he says weakly.
“Every time,” you repeat, voice flat. “Every time you hook up with a girl you go down on her?”
“I at least offer!”
A bitter silence falls over the two of you as you turn over this new piece of information in your head. Of course it’s something that you’ve thought about from time to time, but you always just thought it was something optional. A little appetizer to the main course. And you don’t get an appetizer every time you get a meal. But as you think back to all your partners, all the excuses that they gave you for not wanting to do it, you can’t help but feel… bad. Was there something about you that made all your partners not want to go down on you?
“It’s nothing wrong with you,” Baekhyun says. He has a funny way of doing that, assuming what you’re thinking without you saying anything. “I think you just happen to only date terrible people.”
“Thanks, Byun.”
He shrinks away. He knows you only call him that when you’re pissed. “Hey,” he says softly, tugging at your pajama pant leg. “I could do it for you if you wanted.”
You nearly shoot up straight in your seat. “Excuse me?”
He holds his hands up in front of his face, anticipating you to smack him. “I’m being serious. Just so you could see what all the hype is about.”
It’s not an immediately horrible idea. It was just a favor, a way for you to test the waters. But still, thinking that Baekhyun is (objectively) good looking and pretending that you don’t occasionally fantasize about him from time to time (which is a totally normal thing to happen to best friends) are completely different things from, well, actually having sex with him.
“Is it going to be weird?” you ask. “Y’know, after?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think so. I’ve had lots of meaningless sex.”
“Ouch.”
“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “I mean that we’re not going to fall in love or anything just because I put my mouth on you. You’ll still be my best friend.”
“Besides,” he continues. “Won’t it feel better knowing that it’s coming from someone who cares about you? Instead of some rando who won’t pay for dinner?”
“Can you please be nicer about my dating history?”
“Date a normal guy then I'll see.” Baekhyun sticks his pinky out towards you. “We can drop it right now and I’ll never bring it up again, I swear. But if you’re interested… I’m offering.”
As you stare at his outstretched pinky, you think one more time that maybe this is a bad idea. Then, your treacherous mind betrays you. How bad could it be? It was only a one time thing.
“You better be good,” you say, hooking your pinky with his.
He grins cheekily. “Never had any complaints.”
The two of you wisely decide to not do anything that night, to give you both some time to think about it and maybe even back out. You almost do. Several times, in fact. But the curiosity always wins out over the anxiety in the end. One week later, you’re in your own apartment, sitting next to each other on the side of your bed. He’s freshly showered, and he smells like your shampoo (he always uses too much), and suddenly this is feeling too real.
“It’s just me,” he says softly, noticing your nerves. “Do you want to back out?”
You hesitate for only a second before firmly shaking your head, as if doing so could convince the butterflies in your stomach to settle. “I’m ready.”
Baekhyun’s eyes flutter shut as he leans forward, pursing his lips the slightest amount. A strange feeling, a mix of overwhelm, panic, and maybe even manic laughter fills your chest. “Wait,” you blurt out.
He opens his eyes, biting back an exasperated sigh. “We can stop.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s the… can we not kiss?”
There’s a pause, before he throws his hands up in disbelief. “No kissing?”
“You said it yourself, this is meaningless. And kissing just kinda makes it mean something to me?” Your voice shrinks with every word, wilting under the incredulity of his gaze.
“Meaningless wasn’t a good word,” he says quietly. Almost regretfully. “But yeah. Okay, we can skip the kissing.” He has an unreadable expression for a moment before he shakes it off, replacing it with the easygoing air that you’re used to. “Not sure how you want to get in the mood without it but–”
The words die on his tongue when you abruptly pull your shirt over your head, reaching back to unhook your bra before you have the chance to feel self-conscious about it. His gaze drops down, eyes widening almost comically. You shove the rest of your clothes down your legs and shift onto the bed so that you’re laying back against the pillows. “You’re the expert,” you say, trying to ignore the way that your voice is trembling slightly. “So show me how you get started.”
Baekhyun swallows, trying to not be too shameless in the way he’s staring at your body, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips slightly before he settles in between your legs. “Can I–?” he says carefully, his hand brushing against your waist.
“Do anything you want to do,” you exhale. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”
He lays down onto his stomach and spreads your legs, hooking his arm under your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut of their own accord, breath hitching in anticipation. What if you don’t like it after all? you think. What if he doesn’t? What if there actually is something wrong with me and he’s just like the rest of them?
A small gasp rips from your throat when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, brushing lightly at first before kissing the plush skin there. Your heart is hammering behind your ribcage, muscles tensing when he switches to the other side. You feel exposed with your core so close to his face, even more so since you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
After what seems simultaneously like a lifetime and a lightning flash, he finally focuses his attention onto your pussy. He starts slow, licking a long stripe up the length of your cunt, flicking his tongue at the top. Then his mouth descends, tongue dipping into your pussy, a low and almost inaudible groan leaving his mouth.
“Ah–” You let your head tip back against the pillows, eyes falling shut as he works his mouth over you. His tongue is so wet, lips so soft. You lose yourself in it for a while, slowly getting used to the feeling of him, the slick noises between your legs make you less embarrassed as each second slips by.
His lips abruptly seal over your clit and you jolt when he starts to suck. Your legs twitch in his hold of their own volition, your fists scrambling to clutch the sheets below you. “Oh, that feels good,” you gasp, your voice coming out breathy, foreign to your own ears.
Baekhyun repeats the motion, losing his grip on one of your thighs to bring the pads of his fingers to your dripping hole, shallowly thrusting the tips inside, flirting with your entrance. You buck your hips, inviting him in, pulse pounding in your ears as the pressure in your stomach continues to build higher and higher.
The second that he slips his fingers completely inside of you, you know that it’s over.
Long, slim digits slide inside of you, searching for the one spot that will make you break, mouth still working over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking. “You like that?” he asks, gaze burning, studying your expression.
He groans against your skin, and the sound of his voice, usually so light and airy, pitched lower with thinly disguised desperation, sends a new wave of arousal pulsing through you. “My hair,” he gasps, pulling away from you for a second. You look down to meet his gaze and are nearly bowled over by the sight of him: expression dark and thick with lust, lips pink and wet, dripping with you. “Put your hand in my hair.”
Your fingers sink into the soft locks of his hair, pushing his face against you. You’re practically riding his face now, but you don’t care, can’t care when it feels so good. WIth a final cry of his name, his mouth and his fingers bring you to the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, crackling like static in your veins. Your back bows, arching into him, your grip on his hair borderline painful. He keeps going, prolonging the pleasure until it becomes too much and you’re softly pleading for him to give in.
“Holy fuck,” you say finally.
“Good?” he asks. You look down to find him smirking playfully, equal parts annoying and endearing.
“Solid 8 out of 10,” you reply. “Always room for improvement.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes and gets up, handing you your clothes from the side of the bed. “I just gave you head and you wanna be smart with me.” He stands and your eyes widen when you see his sweatpants.
He’s hard as fuck.
“Do you want– um–” Your eyes flick away, trying to look anywhere but at it.
“Nah, it’s all good,” Baekhyun replies easily. If he’s embarrassed, he doesn’t show it, even if his voice sounds rough with need. “This was supposed to be for you.”
“Oh. Okay.” The reminder of all this is— a one-time favor— hits again. You try to pretend that you’re not disappointed. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure, but I get to pick.” He nudges you to scoot over and slides into bed next to you as if nothing’s changed, as if things are going to go back to normal just as easily as they had skewed from it.
Things don’t go back to normal.
How could they? Both of you had been too stupid, too naive (too hopeful?) to think otherwise. Baekhyun casts glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, and you find yourself zoning out into his face until he has to snap in front of you. When he feeds you a bite from his meal, as he always does, you notice the way that he swallows, gaze drifting to watch your lips close over his fork.
It’s torture. You can’t even get yourself off without thinking about the feeling of his mouth on you. Seeking other people is out of the question entirely because now that he’d shown you exactly what you’d been missing, how could you ever settle for anything less? You throw yourself into anything you can: work, exercise, picking up abandoned hobbies. Anything to get your mind off of him, off the sound of his voice when he’s turned on, the feeling of his hair in your fist…
“Are you like… okay?”
You blink back to reality, back from where you’ve been watching Baekhyun walk to the restroom, back to focus on Kyungsoo in front of you.
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, eating a fry to distract yourself. “Just been a bit distracted lately.”
Across the table, Kyungsoo narrows his eyes inquisitively. “Distracted by… Baekhyun?” he says carefully.
You deflate. “Is it that obvious?”
“Um… yes? I feel like I’m third-wheeling the two of you more than usual.”
“Soo…” You put your head in your hands and whine. “I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone and you need to be normal when Baek comes back.”
“No promises.”
“We… hooked up. Sort of.”
Instead of any sort of reaction of surprise, Kyungsoo just blinks at you. “Oh. You haven’t been hooking up this whole time?”
“What?!” You lower your voice when the neighboring tables whip their heads to look at you. “Is that what people think?”
“People think that you guys are full on together and have been for years,” he deadpans.
“Well, you know that we’re not, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he shrugs. “But there’s always the possibility that things are happening beyond my knowledge.”
“What do I do?”
Kyungsoo pauses. “Are things just awkward now? If it’s that, then I think it’ll fizzle out on its own.”
“No, it’s that… I think I kind of like him? Or at least want to hook up with him again. And I think that maybe he also wants to?”
“So hook up again.”
In the corner of your eye you see Baekhyun leave the restroom so you adjust your posture, stealthily raising your eyebrow towards him so that Kyungsoo knows he’s coming. “It’s not that easy, Soo.”
“I think it is,” he replies, then clears his throat before raising the volume of his voice. “Anyways, did you want to get dessert?”
“Ooh, you guys are talking about dessert?” Baekhyun slides into the booth next to you, stealing a fry off your plate easily. “Can we split a slice of cheesecake?”
“Get your own slice, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “Last time you hogged it all.”
Baekhyun splutters in protest, and you laugh, ignoring the way that your heart squeezes.
“You wanna come by my place for a bit? Watch a movie?” Baekhyun asks.
When Kyungsoo left the car just moments ago, it’s as if he took all of the easygoing nature of the hangout with him. Now the atmosphere is heavy, wrought with tension so thick you can practically taste it. Baekhyun drums his fingers against the wheel anxiously.
You could say no. You have to do your grocery shopping tomorrow, your place is a wreck and you need to do a deep clean, you don’t have any of the belongings you need to stay overnight (which is a complete non-issue. You’ve had extra clothes and a spare toothbrush at his for as long as you can remember). You’re not stupid: you know what will end up happening if you stay the night.
But a part of you that you aren’t quite ready to reckon with yet wants it.
“Sure,” you say.
Neither of you are paying attention to the movie that he throws on when you get there. His arm around you is nothing new, his knee knocking against yours is familiar territory, but it all feels so different now. You’re hyperaware of everything: every shift he makes, every time he clears his throat.
Your heart hammers in your chest, beating behind your ribcage with a ferocity you’ve never known before. Calm down, you think. This is Baekhyun. This is Baekhyun and this is normal and we’re just best friends–
He calls your name.
Softly. Pleading.
When you turn towards him, his face is so close that you can count every individual eyelash, see every mole on his face in spectacular detail. The soft glow from the lamplight bathes him in gold. His gaze drifts down, down towards your mouth, his lips parting ever so slightly.
Fuck it.
Before you know it, you’re straddling him, thighs bracketing his hips. You throw your shirt over your head and unclip your bra, shuddering slightly when he splays his hand across your side. His lips dip toward yours and you pull away in a panic.
“No kissing,” you whisper.
He exhales harshly, almost like a laugh, before he diverts his pathway to your neck. “God, you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. His hands reach up to cup your tits, brushing your nipples under his thumb.
You roll your hips down, pressing yourself against his hardening cock with increasing intensity. “Shit,” he hisses, pulling away. “Lay down for me.” He pushes you gently onto your back, discarding his clothing and the rest of yours in the process. His fingers enter you slowly, stretching you out as he covers your body with his.
“You’re so obvious, y’know?” he chuckles against your skin when you whine. “Practically giving me fuck me eyes every damn day.”
“Fuck you.” Your voice holds no malice, not even a little bit of bite, going breathy around the edges when he thrusts his fingers in deep. “You’re not any better. I saw you looking at my ass the other day.”
“Can you blame me?” He pulls out and positions you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his cock positioned at your entrance. “You’re fucking perfect.”
He doesn’t waste any time, immediately thrusting into you at a brutal pace. It’s messy, frantic, your blood thrumming through your veins. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life, each thrust pushing you deeper into the couch cushions.
“Holy fuck,” you moan, your head falling back. “Just like that.”
“Yeah?” he grunts, his fringe hanging low over his eyes, casting the top half of his face in shadow. “Tell me how good it is.”
You don’t even have it in you to make a smart comment back, too bowled over by the quick pace and the mounting pleasure. “S-So good, Baek. Don’t stop.”
He pulls out of you momentarily just to drape your legs over his shoulders, practically bending you in half when he re-enters your slick pussy, caging his arms around your head. The position makes you feel so vulnerable, so completely under his will that it sends a thrill up your spine.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of keeping up the pace, “just how much I’ve thought about you since that night? Can’t get the fuckin’ taste of you out of my head.”
You whimper at the heat of his confession. “Me too,” you say. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Never had anyone like that.”
He chuckles, slowing his hips until he’s just grinding into you. “And what about this? Any of those assholes fuck you this good?”
You shake your head, subtly arching into him, trying to get him to resume his pace. “Never. Keep going, need more.”
“Gonna have to hear you say ‘please,’” he teases.
“God, please,” you gasp. “Please, I want it.”
He fucks into you like he has something to prove, moving his hips with devastating precision. His control is slipping, you see it in the way that his jaw tenses, feel it in the way his hips start to stutter. You’re no better— with every minute, you feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you, the overwhelming heat coiling low in your stomach.
“I’m close,” you whisper.
“Me too,” he says, voice breaking. He snakes his hand around as best as he can to reach your clit, the pad of his finger brushing the sensitive nub. “With me, please. Wanna feel it.”
You unravel together, bodies curled in on one another. It rolls through you in waves, white-hot pleasure that makes your vision turn to static around the edges. His fingers dig into your sides, breath hot as he pants against your collarbone, emptying himself inside of you.
You don’t even have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pulling out and kneeling on the floor, draping your legs over his shoulders once again. “What are you— fuck!” Your oversensitive body twitches when he puts his tongue against you, sealing his lips over your clit and inserting two fingers inside.
“I need to taste you again,” he pants. Desperate, needy in a primal way that makes you dizzy. “Please.”
Your moans turn to full-on whimpers as he brings you back to the edge in record time, squeezing your eyes shut as you tremble through it. You cum with a shout of his name, gripping his hair between your fingers.
Then, as your body comes down to Earth, the reality of what’s happened starts to dawn on you.
Uncertainty settles in before anything else. You shift so that you can meet Baekhyun’s gaze, but to your amazement, you don’t see your own hesitance reflected back at you. He smiles at you easily, charmingly, as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out.
“You alright?” he asks. “Was it too rough?”
“No,” you say, voice hoarse. “Can you get my clothes?”
You get dressed in silence, watching the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his shirt over his head. What the fuck just happened? Last time was just a one-off, a favor. But this?
“Can we talk about this?”
Baekhyun’s easygoing facade slips for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, sit down.”
You sit down next to him on the couch—the couch where you had just had sex, what the fuck?—and take a deep breath. “Where are we going with this? The sex and stuff?”
He shrugs. “Wherever you want it to go. Are you having fun?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page about, y’know, expectations and stuff.”
Baekhyun chooses his next words carefully before reaching over and putting his hand on top of yours. “We can always stop and I won’t be upset or disappointed. But if you’re open to it, I would really like to keep doing this.”
“I’m just scared it’s going to change things for us.”
“Nothing will change,” he whispers, smiling. “You’re still my best friend.”
And the way he looks at you… how can you be expected not to believe him?
It becomes a routine.
Frantic quickies at 3am, lazy morning sex, even in the back of his car after a party. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can’t keep his hands off of you. Nearly every time you’re alone together, your clothes end up discarded, forgotten on the floor. He learns his way around your body quickly, until making you cum is second nature, as easily as making you laugh. You’re not a bad student either: you learn that he really likes it when you beg, loves it even more when you say his name right before you shatter on his fingers, on his lips, on his cock.
One more time turns into two more times turns into five. Full days pass where the two of you spend all day in bed, lazily dozing in between sessions until you remember that there actually is an outside world that you have to attend to. You’re running out of turtlenecks to wear to work, the only clothing sufficient enough to hide the constellations of love bites across your neck and chest.
Despite all this, he’s still your best friend. You still swap inside jokes, still annoy the hell out of each other. He’s still your comfort person, your safe space, even as you become more vulnerable with him than you ever thought possible.
It’s another lazy night following a lazy day spent in bed. You trace abstract patterns on his back absentmindedly when he perks up suddenly. “I’m bored,” he says. “You wanna go for a walk?”
“Right now?” you ask. “It’s dark out.”
“We’ll just walk to the park and back. What, you don’t think I’ll protect you if any monsters come out of the shadows?”
To Baekhyun’s credit, the park is actually well-lit at night. You take the winding trail through the trees slowly, with all the time in the world. You still find things to talk about, even after years of friendship, after all the hours that you’ve been spending together recently.
“Do you hear that?” Baekhyun asks. And you do, the sounds of live music drawing closer and closer. As you approach the gazebo, you see an older man sitting inside, playing his guitar.
“Hey, isn’t this–?” you say.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen in recognition before a smile spreads across his face. “Oh yeah!”
A high school dance, one of the few that you attended, you can’t remember which one. You had both been rejected by your crushes and ended up having to go with each other. During the slow dance to this very song, the two of you decided to dance together but could not for the life of you stop giggling. Dirty looks were cast your way by the other couples on the dance floor, but you kept snickering into his shoulder, and he kept muffling his laughter in your hair.
“Shall we dance?” he asks, holding his hand out in an exaggerated manner.
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you curtsy before taking his hand.
It starts out the same way, all giggly and joking, Baekhyun twirling and dipping you until your head spins. You see the old man cast a smile your way and you nod at him as he continues playing. “Beautiful!” he shouts.
“Isn’t she?” Baekhyun laughs.
And maybe it’s the way that you become aware of his steady hand on your waist, maybe it’s the way that his eyes crinkle up at the edges when he smiles. But all of a sudden, you become painfully, horribly, much too aware of the fact that you are definitely, without question, in love with him.
When had it all changed? Somewhere among all the times that you were under him? In between the whispered praises, the affectionate touches? Or maybe, God forbid, were the feelings there all along?
It doesn’t really matter in the end. All that you know is that everything is different now. It’s as if the world ceases spinning, time slows to a crawl. You’re in love with your best friend. The realization is enough to knock the wind out of your chest.
Baekhyun tilts his head at you questioningly. “You okay?” he murmurs, eyebrows creasing with concern.
You just nod. Your emotions are so stuck in your throat that you’re afraid to answer. The gentle strumming of the guitar stops, leaving the two of you in the silence of the night.
“What’s up with you?”
You blink and find Baekhyun staring at you, concerned. “Nothing,” you reply.
“You’ve been so quiet lately,” he says. “Distant.”
“Just have some things on my mind.” You can’t, won’t meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since that night in the park, and all of your energy has been focused on keeping everything normal. The way it always was, the way it always should be. But your mask has been slipping lately, wearing your irritation on your sleeve, spacing out more than usual. Baekhyun’s too perceptive to have gone this long without noticing.
He turns back to the TV, worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth the way he does when he’s thinking. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” And for a moment, you feel your heart rate start to pick up, fluttering with hope. You know that I have feelings for you, right? You imagine how those words would sound coming from him. Would he say it in a serious way? Or with that same, lighthearted confidence that’s permeated your entire friendship?
“That I’m seeing someone.”
You didn’t think it was possible for your entire world to shatter with just four words. He has the audacity to look surprised when you gasp, an ugly, strangled sound in the back of your throat.
“Is that… not what–”
“What?”
“I’m sorry!” he splutters. “I thought you figured it out and that’s why you were pulling away–”
You stand up and pace across the room, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Shielding yourself from him. “Since when?”
“For like a month,” he says quietly.
“Baek… we hooked up so much in the past–”
“I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, frustrated. “I know. But we’ve really just been talking and only went on a couple dates and just decided that we should be exclusive. Like literally last night.”
You laugh bitterly. “So we have to stop, then. Thanks for the fucking heads up, I guess.”
“Stop what?”
You look at him as if he’s grown two heads. “Are you joking?”
Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “If you’re asking me if we have to stop having sex, then yes, we have to stop having sex.”
“No shit, Byun.” You sigh, a clusterfuck of emotions rising like bile in your chest. “But where does it stop? We’re going to have to stop hanging out, she probably won’t like it if we hang out at all.”
“Okay, hold on.” Baekhyun stands and grabs you gently by both shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions. I love you, but please calm down.”
I love you. It hits you like a slap to the face. “Don’t say that.”
His face twists with pain. “I know you hate when I tell you to calm down but I need you to hear me right now. Nothing’s going to change. We just have to stop hooking up, okay?”
Of course he doesn’t even register that the calm down part of the sentence wasn’t the part that bothered you. “Right. Remember what happened the last time we said nothing was going to change between us?”
Baekhyun falls silent, grappling with the right words to say. Finally, he settles on, “Please. Please don’t hate me for this.”
You throw your hands up in frustration, twisting out of his grip to grab your bag and head towards the door. “I don’t know, it kinda feels like you’re breaking up with me right now.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice hardens instantly. “We’re friends. We’re just best friends.”
“Best friends don’t do this!” you yell. “They don’t have morning sex or dance with each other at the park or have sit down conversations saying that they have to stop hooking up because one of them started seeing someone. They just don’t.”
“So what are you saying then?” he says, tone sharp enough to cut with, dripping with malice. “That you’re in love with me or something?”
Your breath hitches. The way he says it as if it’s something so terrible.
“What if I am?” Your voice cracks, small and pathetic.
He melts instantly, all the venom sucked out of him in one go, and you see your best friend again. “Oh.”
Humiliation spreads like a virus in your chest. So he didn’t know after all.
“I’m so sorry–”
You throw your bag over your shoulder. The second your back turns to him, the hot tears fall down your face. “It’s fine. Just forget it.”
“Wait, please–”
“I said forget it.” You head towards the door without another look back at him, slamming it shut behind you. You almost want to wait to hear the hurried footsteps behind you, but you can’t stand the thought of waiting in that cold, empty hallway, waiting to be followed by someone who would never come.
The calls stop after the third day.
Before the silence, he calls every hour on the hour. You listen to a few of the voicemails from the first day. Hi, can we please talk about this? I don’t want to lose you. Please. After a while, it gets too painful to hear his voice, and the number of unopened voicemails ticks higher and higher until they don’t anymore.
You hardly leave your apartment as weeks go by. It hadn’t occurred to you before now just how much time you had been spending with him. Your days feel emptier now, lacking a spark that he always brought. The silence of your empty place feels almost oppressive.
The thought comes into your mind one night when you’re burying your feelings into a pint of ice cream that this must be what it feels like to be heartbroken. You laugh a bit at the irony– you always figured that the first time you would experience this, you’d at least have the solace of your best friend to crawl to.
A rapt knocking at your front door brings you out of your stupor and your heart leaps into your throat. You sit frozen for a few seconds before the knocking comes again. Before you can think about it too hard, you’re on your feet bounding towards the door.
“Baek, I–”
“Uh, hi?”
It’s not Baekhyun on the other end, but Kyungsoo, who looks a little startled at your appearance. “I was getting a little worried about you, you haven’t answered any of my texts.”
“Oh, um… you can come in. It’s a bit of a mess.”
Kyungsoo looks around your place as he steps inside, littered with trash and piles of laundry. You have half a mind to be embarrassed about it, but he just looks with concern, free of judgement. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
You tell him everything, trying your best not to trip over your words, determined to get through the story without crying. Kyungsoo listens silently, nodding when appropriate, but never makes a move to interject. Finally, when you’re done, and the lump in your throat feels almost too large to bear, he says, “So you haven’t contacted him since this happened?”
“No.”
“And he just sent a bunch of voicemails, didn’t text, didn’t show up here?”
“Yes.”
“And you… want him to?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Your head sinks into your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyelids. “I don’t know what I feel right now. I just wish that we never did anything to begin with so I never had to realize these feelings.”
“Well… we can’t take it back. And I think it’s obvious now that things have changed, so… now all that’s left to do is renegotiate the terms of the relationship.”
“But what if…” Your voice comes out small. “What if I don’t like his terms? What if he doesn’t like mine?”
You feel a gentle hand on your back. “You won’t know until you talk about it. That goes for him too. He needs to be a better communicator. Jesus.”
You laugh wetly. “It’s something we’ve always had in common.”
“Avoidance attachment?”
When you peek up through your fingers, Kyungsoo’s smiling good-naturedly. “C’mon, get up. Take a shower and I’ll clean up a little.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you groan.
“I know. I want to. You don’t have a choice.”
The next time you hear a knock on your door, you know that it’s not Kyungsoo.
Baekhyun smiles at you sadly in the doorway, already looking like he’s bracing himself for your rejection. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say. Your tongue feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
“I can leave if you want me to, and I won’t bother you again, I swear. I just thought I’d try to talk to you one last time?”
You swallow, then open the door wider. “Come in.”
He looks tired. He hovers around the corners of the room as if he doesn’t know this place better than his own. You get him a glass of water, and you sit awkwardly side by side on your couch. The silence is nearly unbearable, but thankfully, he doesn’t take very long to break it.
“I broke up with her.”
You nod slowly. “When?”
“A day after everything,” Baekhyun says. “I told you in a voicemail, but uh, I assumed you were ignoring it or you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I didn’t hear it,” you admit. “But I never asked you to do that for me.”
“You didn’t have to.” Baekhyun takes a breath, fidgeting with the glass in his hands. “I was scared to admit that becoming physical with you had changed things between us. I thought that if I tried looking elsewhere that things between us could go back to the way they were.”
“You wanted things to go back?” you ask.
“I thought that I would rather things go back to normal than to lose you entirely.”
“You kept insisting that things never changed,” you say. “You were the one that kept that boundary.”
“I know,” he sighs. He looks up at you, dark eyes broken. “I was a fucking idiot. I thought that if I kept saying it, I would believe it.”
“Couldn’t you feel it?” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, stinging the back of your throat. “Couldn’t you feel that I was falling for you?”
“I didn’t want to believe it. I thought it was my brain telling me what I wanted to hear.” Baekhyun laughs. “I’m such a mess. I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t.” You reach over and grab his hands. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, eyes glimmering with hope. “You didn’t ruin anything, Baek. I should have been more upfront with my feelings too. I shouldn’t have ignored your calls.”
Baekhyun worries his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking again. “So if you were to be more upfront about your feelings now, what would you say?”
“I would say…” You take a deep breath. “That I think I’m in love with you. And I want to try being something more than your best friend.”
His face breaks into a relieved grin. “I love you too. And I’m so, so sorry for everything.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I do,” he frowns. “I did a really douchey thing to you and I regret it—”
You cut him off by climbing into his lap, putting both of your hands on the sides of his face. His words die on his tongue, lips falling apart in awe, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“Please,” you whisper. “Just kiss me.”
Soft lips meet yours cautiously, hesitantly. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close, deepening the kiss at the same time. He kisses you with care, like you have all the time in the world, moving his lips against yours perfectly in sync.
And it’s so amazing. It’s unfair just how amazing it feels, how long you’ve denied yourself from being like this, from being with him. You melt in his arms, losing yourself in the rhythm of his lips, the soft gasps of breath in between, the warmth of his body against yours.
You slip your hands into his hair and he groans, breaking apart from you for a second. “Don’t do that,” he murmurs.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I… I like it a lot.” He looks up at you through his lashes, exhaling shakily. “I just want to do this for a while and that makes it really hard for me to not carry you into your bedroom right now.”
You smile, rolling your hips down once, decisively, onto his lap before dipping down for another kiss. “No reason why we can’t do both,” you whisper.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen before he brings you in even closer, pressing his face into your shoulder. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Just making up for lost ti—ah!” Your hands scramble to grab onto his shoulders as he stands, carrying you to the bedroom. Your laughter echoes off the walls of your apartment as he walks, filling the place with the light that it sorely missed, that it won’t ever be without from this moment on.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
THE PARK 'DATE' OMFG? that is the most romantic date ive ever gone on (in a fanfic) when the guitar guy shouted beautiful! and baekhyun said "isnt she?" sobbing.
"You know, don't you?"
"Know what?" And for a moment, you feel your heart rate start to pick up, fluttering with hope.
You know that I have feelings for you, right? You imagine how those words would sound coming from him. Would he say it in a serious way? Or with that same, lighthearted confidence that's permeated your entire friendship?
"That I'm seeing someone."
oh youre the devil. the way my heart DROPPPEEEDDD to my ass. omfg im having ptsd from this LOOOOL wow. youre so talented in breaking my heart.
"You're jumping to a lot of conclusions. I love you, but please calm down."
I love you. It hits you like a slap to the face. "Don't say that.
THE WAY I HAD THE SAME REACTION AS HERRRRRRRRRRR LIKE PLSSSS BAEK READ THE ROOM!!!
this was so good!!! omfg the angst hit so hard i really wasn't expecting it :')
♡ˎˊ˗ content: +18 content, mdni, smut, somnophilia (dubcon!!), established relationship, praising, slightly possessiveness, cursing, pet names, oral sex (f. receiving), cum eating, pussydrunk!junmyeon x f!reader
♡ˎˊ˗ word count: 1,288 words
♡ˎˊ˗ summary: junmyeon woke up in the middle of the night, completely horny. he couldn't resist the temptation to eat you out while you were sleeping.
An involuntary gasp tore through the night, and Junmyeon woke up with a jolt. Sweaty, his mind scrambling to escape the residue of the dream—a wet, vivid dream he had shared with you just a second ago.
And there you were, right next to him. You were sleeping profoundly, one leg carelessly thrown outside the sheets, leaving your thighs too exposed beneath the fabric of his long t-shirt, which you wore to sleep.
Junmyeon looked at you, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. He tried to settle his racing heart, attempting to close his eyes and drift back off, when he heard it.
A soft, almost imperceptible moan escaped your lips.
His entire body reacted instantly. Junmyeon sat up quickly in the bed, his gaze fixed on you. He watched as your body subtly shifted and moved, an unconscious, languid motion that seemed to be inviting him closer.
He couldn’t resist. Junmyeon leaned in closer to your body, his eyes fixed on the sight of your soft thighs. Taking advantage of your unconsciously parted legs, he lifted the hem of the t-shirt slowly, revealing that you were wearing no panties.
“My good girl,” Junmyeon whispered with a grin, feeling his cock stirred under his underwear.
Leaning, his lips then kissed your thigh softly, and when Junmyeon saw your body shudder in response—a small, involuntary contraction—he knew he hadn’t fully woken you. Slowly, Junmyeon ascended his path. His kisses grew warmer, trailing upward along your inner thigh until he reached your folds. Junmyeon paused there for a beat, savoring the sound of your quiet breath, before he finally lowered his mouth to get your pussy.
“Just a taste,” Junmyeon murmured to himself.
At first, his mouth and tongue moved slowly, deliberately. Junmyeon licked your folds, his touch so gentle it felt as though he expected you to break beneath it. But that control shattered a second later. Junmyeon became intoxicated by your scent and taste, practically burying his face between your legs.
“Fuck…” Junmyeon groaned against your folds.
He was kissing, sucking, and slurping your cunt like a starving man finally finding his sustenance. The sound was audible, urgent, and he even let out a deep, guttural groan of pure pleasure. All the while, his eyes were fixed on your body, watching as you instinctively responded to his actions, your hips beginning a slow grind against his face.
“Even when you’re asleep, your pussy is mine,” Junmyeon licked his lips. “Just fucking mine.” He immediately captured your clit in his mouth, sucking deliberately.
Junmyeon heard you moaning, the sound no longer soft, but a low, guttural catch in your throat that was quickly getting louder. Your body began to move beneath his touch, a slow, seeking grind that he couldn’t ignore. Junmyeon immediately reached up to your waist, his hands firmly gripping your hips to set you there, anchoring your motion against his hungry mouth.
With your body now perfectly still, his tongue moved in swift, circular, and relentless strokes. Junmyeon watched you from below, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. Your lips were now parted wide, your breath coming out in hard, desperate gasps that sounded like pleas. And then, Junmyeon saw your fingers curling into the sheets, the fabric bunching next to your head.
The sight of your tension only fueled him. Junmyeon sucked your clit harder, frenetically, drawing you deeper inside his mouth, his nose pressed firm, the wet, demanding sound of it echoing softly in the bedroom. He felt the sudden tremors in your inner thigh muscles, the way you squirmed, the subtle clench that told him you were close, and he parted your folds with his two fingers, pushing his tongue deeper, waiting for your release.
It was in that furious thrusts of his tongue that you woke up. Your eyes snapped open. You stared straight up at the ceiling for a dizzying second before the reality of the sound, the movement, and the intense pleasure registered. You saw the dark shape of his head between your legs, and a gasp—one of surprise mixed with a fresh surge of heat—ripped from your throat. “Junmyeon…” you moaned, almost inaudible.
Junmyeon felt his own tip dripping, driven entirely by your pleasure. He was still starving for you, a ferocious hunger that made him feel capable of cum just by watching your hips spasm and hearing that raw, beautiful groaning.
Junmyeon paused just long enough to whisper, his breath hot against your slick skin, “Fuck… you taste fucking delicious, princess,” he moaned, then sucked your clit between his lips and flicked your sensitive bud with his tongue.
You were beyond coherent thought, your head thrashing weakly into the pillow. “Ah—don’t stop,” you mumbled desperately, a nonsensical plea that was entirely overwhelmed by sensation, clenching your thighs around his head.
“Mmh… you’re awake,” Junmyeon murmured, smirking, his voice muffled against your wet folds.
You just replied with a deep moan, pressing your hips on his mouth. Your hair was damp and spread across the pillow, your face deeply flushed, your lips slightly parted from hard, desperate breathing. Junmyeon drove his tongue in even harder, impossible deeper, finding the exact, perfect spot and holding the rigid pressure until your body finally arched up off the mattress.
“Junmyeon—” you choked out, moaning even louder, followed by a thick heavy exhale that fogged the air. “I’m gonna—”
“Yes, princess. Cum in my mouth. Gimme everything,” he groaned, demanding, almost breathless. “Mmh… your pussy… so fucking delicious.”
Your hips rocked violently in a final, frantic spasm against his face, causing the sheets to scrunch and twist beneath your weight. The headboard knocked sharply against the wall with the force of your climax. Yet his face was still buried against your pussy, his tongue finally finding your creamy release. Junmyeon was utterly satisfied, tasting every trace, lapping you, but his cock was still painfully, throbbingly hard.
“Fucking tasty,” he growled. His lips kissed your split, closing his eyes for a second, feeling completely drunk by your taste. Junmyeon was cleaning your cum with his own tongue, savoring you, his chin completely wet by your juices and spit, and his chest heaving slightly with exertion.
“Jesus Christ…” you whined, breathless. “I thought I was dreaming…” Your eyes opened slowly, and the first thing you registered was the sight of Junmyeon’s face positioned between your legs, sucking your swollen folds relentlessly.
He looked at you, your eyelids fluttering once before settling completely. Junmyeon offered a low, breathless smile, his eyes dark with hunger. “With me? Eating you out?,” he murmured, smirking. “I couldn’t resist, baby.”
“You’re so greedy,” you murmured playfully, still spasming, filling the warmth of his mouth between your trembling thighs.
Junmyeon offered a low, breathless chuckle. “Your fault for being so delicious,” he said, his voice rough against your cunt, licking you one more time. “Was it good?”
The sight of him there—his hungry, satisfied expression, his wet and swollen lips—ignited an immediate, fierce heat inside you, making you moan softly. Instinctively, you cupped his face, giving him a gentle, firm tug.
“Always. Much better than dreams,” you smiled playfully, finding his mouth with your own. “Now come here.”
“Aren’t you tired, princess?” Junmyeon asked, smirking back against your lips.
When you shook your head, he demanded your mouth with hunger. His lips tasted exactly like you. Junmyeon gasped, tracing your whole body with his fingertips. The sudden friction with the fabric of his boxer made you notice his bulge.
“Now I’m awake… why don’t you… just fuck me?” Your voice was desperate against his mouth, tightening your legs around his waist, lowering his last piece of clothing.
“Say no more, baby.” He groaned, smirking between the messy kiss.
hello! i checked your requests page and i hope this is an ok thing to request. can i ask for aftercare with lay, specifically with reader going through subdrop or they had to use a safeword because things got a little too heated in the moment? basically lay being the absolute sweetheart he is and helping reader feel better?
on my way to hold you tight
⟡ content: +18 content, nsfw, established relationship, nudity, slight mention of bdsm themes (bondage, leather whip), mention of heavy overstimulation, spanking and marking, comfort, much aftercare, fluff, yixing x f!reader | word count: 1,5k words
⟡ a/note: i gotta say i struggled a bit with the writing, but eventually found the inspiration i needed to continue. thank you for trusting me with this one, i hope it's what you wanted <3
The restraints had been your undoing. You were held fast, limbs bound in a way that left you utterly exposed, every inch of your skin sensitized to the point of agony and ecstasy. The whip was constantly hitting your inner thighs, but Yixing’s fingers still worked with a punishing precision against your sensitive bud.
You had tried to fight it. You’d gritted your teeth, toes curling against the sheets, desperate to hold back the tide of that second, shattering orgasm. You wanted to stay in that tension, to prove you could handle the heat he was pouring over you. But the leather against your skin and his relentless fingers assaulting your clit made you shatter.
The release hit with a violence you weren’t prepared for. You didn’t even have the breath to whisper the safeword; you simply began to come apart, your body trembling so violently the ties began to chafe.
Yixing saw the way your breath hitched into a sob and the way your eyes lost their focus. His eyes, which had been burning with dark intent just moments before, shifted instantly.
“Babe,” Yixing’s voice changed instantly. The dominant edge vanished, replaced by a sharp, jagged concern. “Babe, look at me.”
He didn’t wait for a signal. With practiced, frantic speed, he worked the knots, freeing your wrists and ankles from the biting pressure of the ropes.
The crash was instantaneous. The sudden, terrifying hollow opening up in your chest.
“I’ve got you. I’m untying you now. You’re safe. I’m right here, love.”
The moment your hands were free, you didn’t even try to cover yourself; you just tried to reach for him. Yixing hauled you into his lap, wrapping his body around yours like a shield.
“Yix—” You tried to speak, your throat tight with the need to say his name, to ground yourself in the sound of it. But the air caught in your lungs, and all that emerged were broken, jagged sobs. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lashes wet against his bare chest, making a desperate, exhausting effort to pull yourself back together.
“I’m here, babe.” Yixing didn’t let you struggle alone. He became your anchor, his voice a low, melodic hum of love and reassurance that cut through the fog in your head.
His hands, which had been so demanding moments ago, were now impossibly soft as they stroked your hair and traced the line of your spine. He pressed small, lingering kisses to the top of your head, his calm breath warm against your skin.
“You did it so good.”
Slowly, the tremors subsided into small, occasional shudders. But as the fog cleared, a sharp pang of guilt pierced through the exhaustion. You realized the scene had ended abruptly. Yixing had spent the entire night focused on you, on your own pleasure, but he hadn’t gotten his own release.
“I-I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words dissolving into a fresh wave of sobs against his neck. “Yixing, I’m so sorry. You didn’t… we didn’t finish. I ruined it.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand cupping the back of your head, pressing you into his heartbeat. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave me everything.”
Your mind was racing, your eyes leaking tears you couldn’t control. You had always craved the way he pushed your limits, but you had never felt this raw—this completely stripped back.
“But—”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Yixing didn’t let you pull away. Instead, he cupped your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears with a tenderness that made your heart ache. He didn’t look frustrated or disappointed; he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
A minute later, with so much care, Yixing gathered you into his arms, your head lolling against his shoulder, and carried you into the bathroom where the steam had already begun to turn the air soft and heavy.
He lowered you into the warm water with a tenderness that made your throat ache all over again. He settled in behind you, pulling your back against his chest, his long legs bracketing yours so you were completely cocooned by his heat while he was massaging your body with the soap, cleaning you.
In the quiet of the room, the only sound was the soft slosh of water. You sat in silence, your gaze falling to your lap. Under the clear surface, the marks were blooming—angry, beautiful blossoms of red and deep pink across your thighs and wrists, and seeing them made the guilt flare up like a fresh wound.
Yixing noticed the exact moment your breath hitched. He didn’t say a word; instead, he took a bath sponge and traced the marks on your thighs with agonizing gentleness, as if he could soothe the sting away through touch alone.
“You don’t ever have to try that hard again,” he murmured near your ear, his thumb grazing a particularly dark mark. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, angel.”
Yixing pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your wet cheek, his lips curving into a small smile that broke your heart. The kindness in his expression was too much. It felt like you had failed him, yet here he was, worshipping the pieces of you that had broken.
Fresh tears blurred your vision. Without a word, you shifted, turning in the narrow space of the tub to face him. You moved closer, desperate to disappear into him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck to shield your crying eyes from his view. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, your nails digging slightly into his skin as if you were afraid he might vanish if you let go.
“I didn’t mean to act like that,” you whispered into his skin, your voice muffled and broken. “I don’t know what happened... I’m so sorry... I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“Babe,” he whispered, his hands coming up to steady your shaking frame, his fingers threading through your damp hair. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth of understanding that was almost overwhelming. “You didn’t act any way. You reacted. Your body reached its limit, and that’s completely valid.”
Yixing leaned in, resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “I care about how you feel a thousand times more than I care about my own satisfaction. You’re my priority. Always.”
You stayed like that for a long time, the warmth of the bath seeping into your bones, while he held you through the last of the aftershocks, proving over and over that his love was the strongest anchor you had.
Yixing helped you out of the bath with an attentiveness that made you feel cherished, his hands steady as he patted your skin dry with a plush towel. He didn’t rush you; he treated every movement as if it were a ritual of care. When he pulled one of his oversized black shirts over your head, the scent of him shrouded you, offering a small sense of security you desperately needed.
He tucked you into the bed, the cool sheets contrasting with the lingering warmth of your skin. Yixing climbed in beside you immediately, never leaving you alone for even a second, as if he feared the distance might let the shadows back into your mind.
Settled against his chest, the room quiet and dim, the weight of the night still lingered in the back of your throat. You didn’t feel the same sharp agony of the crash anymore, but the “issue” was still there.
“Yixing?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the dark.
“Hmm?” he answered instantly, his arm tightening around your waist.
“I-I wanna try it again,” you said, the words feeling heavy. “Not tonight. But... eventually. I wanna give you that. I wanna feel that way with you again… without breaking.”
You felt him go still for a heartbeat before he let out a long, soft breath. Yixing didn’t lecture you or dismiss your feelings. Instead, he shifted so he could press a lingering, feather-light kiss to your forehead. The sheer tenderness of his gaze in the moonlight made it hard to believe he was real; he looked at you with a devotion that felt almost sacred.
“We can do whatever you want, whenever you’re ready,” he promised, his voice a low, soothing vibration. “But you need to hear me: you didn’t fail tonight. You gave me your vulnerability and your trust. I don’t need you to be strong for me. I just need you to be you.” The last of the pressure evaporated. “I love you.”
A small, honest smile tugged at your lips—one that came from the deep, quiet realization that he truly meant every word he said. “I love you too,” you whispered.
Yixing’s expression softened even further, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down to capture your lips in one last, lingering kiss. It was his way of sealing the night, telling you that the storm was officially over and you were home.
Yixing pulled the duvet higher around your shoulders. “Sleep now, babe. I’ve got you.”
synopsis: after a horrible exam, you seek comfort from your boyfriend, a professor at the neighboring university that you definitely are falling hopelessly in love with.
word count: 3.5k
content and warnings: Baekhyun x f!reader | established but still new relationship, professor!baekhyun, very very fluffy!, smut, comfort, light angst, implied age gap but it's not dwelled on | 18+ content: praaaiiiiiise kink, dirty talk, fingering and oral (fem receiving), raw p in v sex
a/n: as i mentioned in the original request, i did change the prompt a teensy bit so that baekhyun is not actually a professor at the same uni as reader. this also came out wayyyyy way way sweeter and fluffier than i think i initially intended, but i like the way it turned out a lot LOL. call me a big softie idk! there's lowkey been a big fluff drought on this blog and i want to change that!
Straight to voicemail.
You sigh, your eyes shutting seemingly of their own will, your head settling onto the top of the steering wheel. You feel it, the hot sting of tears threatening to slip past your closed eyelids and onto your cheeks, but you will yourself to stay composed for a little while longer. The parking garage is filled with other students milling around, and the thought of any of them seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes your stomach churn even more than it already is.
Your phone dings quietly and you open one eye to see the texts that've been sent.
Teaching rn!
Everything okay?
You smile softly to yourself and pick up your phone, texting back quickly.
Sorry, I forgot your schedule. I just had a shitty morning
The reply is almost instantaneous.
I just have a faculty meeting after this class, why don’t you head to mine?
Let yourself in, you know where the key is :)
I’ll be home right after <3
The butterflies that settle in your stomach are a familiar sensation ever since you started seeing Baekhyun, the history professor that teaches at the other university in your city. It had only been just shy of six months since you’ve been exclusively seeing each other. The hesitation that both of you felt about dating someone in the other’s position had only just started to fade away, but there was something undeniable about the way that he made you feel with something as simple as trusting you in his home while he’s out.
You let him know that you’re heading there before taking a couple of deep breaths to steady yourself. The drive to Baekhyun’s place is long, taking you all the way across town, but you use the time to try and put away the negative thoughts of the exam you just took, and probably bombed. With each minute that ticks away, you try not to picture the disappointment on your parents’ faces as you inevitably tell them about just how poorly you’re doing, try not to hear the thinly disguised jabs that they are sure to throw your way when you come back home for break. You try, you try, but ultimately fail.
Baekhyun’s little house sits at the end of a cul-de-sac, and you already find the tension in your shoulders bleeding away as you pull into the driveway, the sight of his little garden that the two of you started together in the front already putting you at ease. You unlatch the back gate and crouch next to the little stone figurines by the back door, turning over the dog to reveal the spare key.
The second the door clicks shut behind you, you realize that you’ve never been here without Baekhyun. The silence is deafening, your footsteps sounding much too loud even with your shoes off. It’s strange without the sound of his humming as he flits about the kitchen, or the quiet crooning of his r&b playlist playing softly in the background. Strange, but not uncomfortable. You smile at the photobooth strip of the two of you on the fridge as you pass by, and the mug that you made for him at a pottery date on the kitchen counter, still half-full of tea from this morning. Little reminders of you scattered throughout his home in a way that makes your heart squeeze with fondness.
The pain and stress from this morning gives way to curiosity as you round the corner and pass by Baekhyun’s office, the door slightly ajar. You take a peek inside, not daring to step further than the threshold. It’s surprisingly cluttered, given the usual spotlessness of the rest of his home. Books lay haphazardly on his bookshelf, some of them open, messy handwriting scrawled in the margins. A stack of half-graded papers are strewn across his desk, and you laugh at the amount of red-inked smiley faces. Framed photographs are placed about the room, and you recognize some of his friends, his family, and some of his coworkers at the university.
What gives you pause, though, is the small corkboard above his desktop littered with various papers and cards stuck to them. You recognize your own handwriting: a small note for his birthday, the tag from a bouquet of flowers you sent him, doodles that you snuck into his pocket one night. But there’s other things too: the receipt from your first date, movie ticket stubs, even a pressed flower you recognize from the park where you two had a picnic. The thought of Baekhyun working in this room: reading, grading, writing his papers, and then looking up and seeing evidence of you… It’s enough to make your cheeks heat up and you turn away, stepping back into more of the familiar territory of his house.
You find his well-loved, well-worn hoodie laying on his bed and you pick it up without a second thought, pulling it over your head and letting it drape you in its warmth. It smells like him: comforting and clean. Your head hits the pillow before you’re even aware it’s happening, and your eyes drift closed, exhausted and spent.
The gentle press of lips against your hair rouses you awake. You stretch out your limbs before your eyes open, your brain not quite catching up to your body until you’re greeted by the sight of Baekhyun, kneeling against the side of the bed. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before planting a kiss on your lips.
“Morning,” he says quietly. His eyes are soft, tired, thinly veiled concern hiding behind his dark irises. “Did you wait long?”
You shake your head, and your voice feels thick in your throat as you speak. As your head gets clearer, so do the memories of the morning’s exam. “I don’t think so. How was class?” You scoot over so he can join you on the bed.
“It was fun,” he says, flopping down next to you. “I think we’re past all of the ‘boring’ history stuff so everyone’s more engaged.” He makes quotation marks around the word boring before propping his head up with one hand, the other playing with your hoodie strings. “But enough about me. What’s bothering you?”
You swallow. “My exam.”
Baekhyun exhales through his lips. “Your neuroscience one? It was this morning, right?”
You can feel the corners of your mouth trembling as you nod. “I did really bad, Baek,” you whisper.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He wipes away your tears as they fall with the pad of his thumb. “Did you get your grade back yet?”
“Not yet, but I just know it was really bad. I left the last page blank. I really needed to do well on this exam to get an A in the class.” You tuck your face into his chest, sniffling against his sweater. “My parents are gonna kill me. This is the second semester in a row that I’ve done terribly, and I’m graduating so soon. They already warned me about doing better.” You look up at him and wipe at your face with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, this probably sounds so stupid to you.”
The feeling of his arm against your back is firm. “It’s not stupid at all. I still think that my parents are going to kill me sometimes.” He pauses as you laugh wetly. “I can’t even imagine having to know all these things about the brain. Sometimes I would look over as you were studying and all of the diagrams would make me dizzy.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about 14th century medieval torture devices.”
Baekhyun laughs. “I couldn’t either. I focus on the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.”
“Nerd.”
“My point is.” He looks down at you, his eyes sparkling. “You’re one of the hardest working, smartest people I know. And I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself, but it also shows just how much you take pride in your work and how determined you are to do well. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. And your grade on one exam doesn’t change that. It doesn’t make you any less of a smart, brilliant person.”
You blink through a fresh wave of tears and Baekhyun gasps, flustered, wiping them away with renewed vigor.
“That wasn’t supposed to make you cry more!”
“That was… just really sweet. Thank you, Baekhyun.”
“You really ought to get used to me giving you compliments,” he says. “Haven’t you learned it comes with the territory by now?”
“It’s just embarrassing,” you mumble, your cheeks turning red.
“Oh? It’s embarrassing when I say that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” He kisses your forehead. “Or that your jokes make me laugh harder than anyone else’s?” Your nose. “Or that I think about texting you the moment I wake up because I can’t wait to hear from you?”
He rolls you over onto your back, both of you laughing as you dodge his attempts to kiss your face. He finally lands one on your lips, an obnoxious smack that makes you roll your eyes. But then he kisses you there again, and again, each softer than the last, your giggles dying down and giving way for the sparks of arousal. Your eyes close softly as your fingers thread into his hair, moaning softly against his lips.
“Shit.” He pulls away and scans your face worriedly. “I’m sorry. You’re probably not in the mood.”
“No,” you swallow, tugging lightly at the hem of his sweater. “I want you to make me forget about it. Please?”
Baekhyun exhales softly, then nods. “What do you want me to do?”
“Anything,” you whisper. You tug the fabric over his head and run your hands down the firm expanse of his chest. “Just keep your glasses on.”
Baekhyun grins and kisses you, helping you undress until you’re completely bare beneath him, squirming slightly under the intensity of his gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, dragging his fingertips over your skin, over the crest of your breasts and the curve of your hips. His touch is soft and gentle, but leaves goosebumps in its wake all the same.
“Baek…” you whine, looking away.
“You said anything I wanted, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He cups your breasts in his hands, rolling your nipples underneath his thumbs. You gasp and arch into the touch, screwing your eyes shut out of embarrassment, shying away from his unrelenting attention. “I can’t get enough of your body,” he says, leaning down to suck one nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving over the stiffening bud. “Everything about it.”
His mouth travels lower, kissing your belly, your hip bone, down, down, down to your core. He settles between your thighs and parts your folds, dragging his thumb through your wetness. “You say you’re embarrassed but look at this, baby.” He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting the evidence of your arousal. The sensuality of the sight sends a sharp thrill of need up your spine. “You’re soaked. You like being complimented, don’t you?”
“I—”
He sucks your inner thigh harshly, making you yelp. “Tell the truth.”
“I— I like it,” you whimper.
“Good girl,” he coos, smirking when your thighs twitch. “You like that too, hmm?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me when you’re close,” he says, before lowering his mouth onto your cunt.
His tongue delves into you with precision, depth. Licking into you as if though the act could remove every bit of self-doubt and self-consciousness from your being. His fingers press indents into the plush skin of your thighs, holding you in place. Your head hits the pillows, your fingers finding their way into his hair as though they belong there, pulling a muffled moan out of him when you tug on the strands.
“Jesus,” he groans, lifting his mouth to seal his lips over your clit, sucking harshly. “You taste so fuckin’ good. So sweet.” You feel two of his fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking in deep, just as he flicks the tip of his tongue over the sensitive nub.
“Baek.” Your eyes flutter shut as he continues to alternate between firm licks and devastating sucks, his fingers crooking in come here motions inside of you. The wet noises of your slick cunt fill the room, and you would normally have half a mind to be embarrassed about it, but the way that Baekhyun’s looking up at you between your legs like you hung the moon and the stars makes those self-conscious worries fall away with each pass of his tongue.
The weight of your impending orgasm settles over you, your hips arching higher and higher into the wet heat of Baekhyun’s mouth. “I’m close, Baek, fuck.”
“Eyes on me,” he says, voice dripping. “Lemme see that pretty face when you cum.”
It hits you like a tidal wave, dragging you under, Baekhyun’s gaze being your only anchor. Your voice leaves you in a hoarse gasp, and your fingers scrabble for purchase on the sheets below. While you come back to Earth, Baekhyun hovers over you and captures your lips in a nasty kiss, his tongue swiping past your bottom lip.
“How do you want me, angel?” he whispers.
You sit him up against the headboard and drag his pants and boxers down his legs, the tip of his cock leaking against his stomach. “You gonna take what you need from me?” he asks, planting his hands on your hips as you position yourself above him. “Fuck me until you cum again?”
“Mhm.” You drag the tip of his cock between your folds, breath hitching as the first inch of him sinks inside of you. “Want you to cum too.”
“With this pretty pussy around me?” He tilts his head back, the crown of his head hitting the headboard with a soft thump. “It won’t take long at all.”
He lets you set the pace, patiently drawing circles into your hip when you take a few moments to steady yourself after you sink all the way onto him. His breath is ragged, unstable, a low moan rising from the depths of his chest when you start to grind on him, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock. It feels empowering, fucking him like this. To have someone as unreal and beautiful as Baekhyun beneath you, chest flushed, sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead, looking up at you with devotion and awe. There’s no unease, no awkwardness. Just him.
Baekhyun tugs you closer to him and slips his tongue into your mouth, moaning when you pick up the speed of your hips, lifting yourself higher and slamming back down. “Fuuuck, angel,” he grunts. “You’re so good, so fucking good.”
You moan, high-pitched and needy. He nips at your bottom lip in response. “My girl’s so fucking pretty, so gorgeous. Look at you. My fuckin’ dream girl.”
“Baek, qu-quit it.”
“I don’t think you mean that, your pussy fucking clenches when I talk.” He slips a hand between your bodies and brushes his thumb over your clit. You jerk against him, your head falling onto his shoulder. He knows what it means.
“So fucking hot how sensitive you are,” he grunts, planting his feet into the mattress as he thrusts up into you, hard. Once, twice, three times, until it’s a relentless, brutal pace. His finger rubs against your clit, sending sparks up the column of your spine. “You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum all over my cock?”
You don’t answer, can’t answer. You just nod and whine wordlessly against his skin, nails digging into his back as your orgasm rips through you, your vision turning white around the edges. You cling to him as he cums, burying himself impossibly deeper inside of you. His cum seeps out of you, messy and filthy between your two bodies.
Baekhyun rolls you over onto your back, kissing you gently to quiet your exhausted noise of protest. He leaves you for a brief moment, then comes back with a damp washcloth. The cloth is warm against your thighs as he cleans you up, humming softly under his breath.
You watch him for a bit in silence, taking in the moles on his face and the slight skew of his glasses, the gentle curve of his fingers and the warmth of his touch. You realize just how good you feel in this moment. Basking in the afterglow, yes, but also just how comfortable you are around him, how your troubles that seemed so world-ending this morning feel miles away now.
“You’re so perfect,” you whisper.
Baekhyun pauses, his fingers hovering over your skin. He meets your gaze briefly, but then looks back down at the comforter almost as quickly as he looked at you.
“You’re actually the smartest person I know,” you continue, sitting up. “The way you light up every room you walk into makes me so proud to be seen with you. The way you can talk to anyone and make them feel special. How all your students care about you, even if they hate history.”
You cup his jaw and tilt his face towards you. His face is burning crimson, but his eyes convey the depth of his gratitude. A soft look that makes your insides twist with butterflies and something more, something deeper. “You always know how to take care of me. And you’re so handsome.” You giggle when he pokes the tip of his tongue out at you, and he stays still when you kiss him.
“And I…”
Your breath stutters, your heart hammering behind your ribs.
“I love you.”
Baekhyun beams, cupping your face with both hands. His eyes are misty, even though he’ll deny it vehemently later. He kisses you, unhurried, passionate. He kisses you with all the warmth of the sun and the time in the world.
“I love you too,” he says. “So, so much. Now come on.” He tucks your hair behind your ear and pinches your cheek gently. “I brought over food from our favorite place. It’s probably cold by now.”
You follow him into the kitchen wearing his hoodie as he chatters on about something one of his students said in class, as though nothing has changed. And in a way, nothing has. All that’s changed is the exchange of words. He’s felt like home for a long, long time.
bonus:
“I’m home,” Baekhyun calls out, shucking his shoes off while trying to balance the bags of takeout with his work bag. There’s no answer.
Surely she would have told me if she decided not to come, he thinks, putting the food down on the dining table. And then, You idiot, her car’s in the driveway.
He peeks his head into the living room, shutting the door to his office as he passes it, but his house seems just as he had left it this morning. He heads into the bedroom and knocks softly on the door, calling your name.
And when he opens it, his heart melts.
Because curled up on his own bed, wearing his hoodie, is you. Fast asleep, safe from whatever had been troubling you this morning. Your face is so peaceful, the rise and fall of your breathing so steady and comforting that if he closed his eyes, he might have mistaken it for his own.
All he wants in this moment is for time to stop. For you to be in your own world for a while, deep in your black dreams. He goes to your side and falls to his knees beside you, but he doesn’t dare reach out and disturb you, even though he wants so badly to caress your face and kiss you all over. For a few moments that feel like eternity, he sits just like this, wrapped up in the comfort of you.
I love you, he thinks. I love you, I love you, I love you.
You stir in your sleep, as if you’ve heard him, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like his name. Baekhyun knows that he has to wake you, take you out of your sleep so that he can actually begin to care for you.
All the same, he waits for a few moments longer, studying the way each eyelash curls perfectly onto your cheeks. He wonders if you know just how deeply and irreparably in love with you he is, even if he hasn’t yet said the words.
The time will come. He doesn’t know when, or where it will happen, but he’s not in a hurry. He has a feeling that you’ll be in his life for a long, long time.
thank you for reading! for more, here is my masterlist.
req: okay so for baekhyun just like a cute husband!fluff, if you’re comfortable writing mafia au, you could make baekhyun like a mafia, but he gets super soft when he’s with oc
pairing: mafia!baekhyun x wife!reader
genre: fluff!
synopsis: baekhyun had a soft spot reserved for the reader.
warnings: sweet and soft baekhyun
you visit baekhyun a few times a week at his office. it’s never for anything special, but just because you want to see him. sometimes, you bring him food or a dessert you’ve made, but mostly you show up to see him.
today, you’re showing up to show him the nails he generously paid for, and to just check on him. he’s been stressed lately, coming home frustrated most days that when you hear the tires screech in the driveway you can already tell what mood he’s going to be in. you made him promise early in your relationship to leave his mob dealings where he found them, and to never bring them home to you. he’s kept his promise since then, dropping whatever frustrations he’s dealt with at work, at the door when he sees you perched on the couch waiting for him.
you hop out of your car and walk the short distance to the building he does his dealings in. from the outside, it looks like a plain office building, and on the ground floor there’s nothing eye catching except the door man, who isn’t really a doorman, and a simple end table by the elevators that has a new set of flowers on the table each week.
“hi, jongdae,” you say as you enter the building, pushing your sunglasses into your hair. he gives you a close lipped smile and tells you that you can find baekhyun in his office, where he is ninety percent of the time.
you press the elevator button and the doors slide open. stepping in, you press the ‘6’ button, the highest floor in the building and baekhyuns office.
you step out and hear him before you see him. “when i said everything goes through me, i meant everything!” it’s slightly muffled, but loud enough. it’s only you in the hallway, minus another man who appears to be watching the elevator, but really isn’t. “hi, minseok,” you say, giving him a small wave.
“hi, mrs. byun. he’s in there with somebody, if you want to wait,” he offers, but you never wait. you’re notorious for interrupting meetings, on purpose and accident.
you pass by minseok and make your way down the hall where baekhyuns voice gets louder and more audible. you frown at his words and tone, but push the door open anyway, his voice cutting out immediately. “hi, baby,” you say, not sparing a glance at the other guy. baekhyun visibly relaxes; his shoulders roll backwards and his chest goes flat, and his fists uncurl. the scowl on his face relaxes into a small smile, reserved for you and you only.
“you’re dismissed,” baekhyun barks, his eyes boring holes into the man across from him while his hands reach for you. the other guy quickly leaves, shutting the door behind him and letting you have baekhyun to yourself. “hi, pretty girl.” baekhyun says, pulling you into him and kissing you deeply.
you smile against him at the pet name and pull away, putting a hand on his cheek. “how are you?” you ask, and he pulls you down onto his lap, your legs dangling over the side.
baekhyun puts one arm around your waist while his other hand holds onto your exposed thighs. “i’m better now. let me see your nails,” he says, and you put a manicured hand in front of his face. he smiles and holds your hand, looking at every design on every nail. “they’re nice.” he compliments and you thank him.
“she did them a little too long, but i didn’t feel like arguing,” you say, admiring them for the 100th time since you got up from the chair. you look back down at baekhyun and find that he’s already looking at you, his eyes soft and his smile warm. “what?”
“i’m just… i just love you, that’s all,” he says, kissing underneath your jaw. you nuzzle closer to him and smile. nobody would ever believe baekhyun had a soft side like this, given his stern and hard exterior. he has walls built up that only you’ve managed to break down and expose the true him.
he has such a dangerous line of work, but he only has one weakness: you.
Contains: Kai x reader, sub!reader, oral sex (f receiving), making out, grinding.
Synopsis: Kai can’t get enough of you in a bikini.
Authors note: this is lowkey ass… I’ve had this in my notes app for SOOOO long and I just wanted to finish it and post something on here.
Also, the way I would let this man FUCK ME RAW, like every inch of self respect I have just completely disappears when I look at him.
_________________________
His arm is tight around your waist, holding not only you but a bottle of beer. You sit next to him, your bikini doesn’t leave much to the imagination which annoys Kai a bit, because it turns him on. He loves the way you look, maybe a bit too much.
Everytime you’re intimate he stares at your body, taking it in like he’ll get sent to hell if he doesn’t worship it enough. His soft fingers trace over your skin, over every curve and every dent. Over every scar and over every insecurity. He always lets you take the lead because he loves how confident you get, and how hot you look when your thick and plush thighs are straddled over his.
The water is hot, it’s a nice contrast to the cool late night air. You can hear the backdoor open and close, your friend comes out with a few beer bottles and places it down next to the pool before she gets back in. You, Kai and a few other friends are hanging out as a celebration of yours and Kai’s marriage.
”So where will the honeymoon be?” A friend of yours asks. She’s sitting infront of you, her freckles glow in the setting sunlight.
”We’re going to Europe… you know, take the train through out the continent, experience the different countries!” You respond, leaning your head down on Kai’s shoulder. Your friends makes awed sounds.
Hours pass, the sun sets lower and lower by the horizon turning the sky into deep shades of orange and pink. Your friends have left at this point but neither you or Kai are planning on getting out of the pool anytime soon. His tan arm is draped over your shoulders, holding you close to his side as you two sit in silence and stare at the setting sun.
”I love you, Kai.” Your voice spreads through the air like how perfume makes a whole room smell like flowers from just a few sprays. Kai’s face spreads into a soft smile. He squeezes you tighter against him, turning his head to face you.
You bring your hand up from the water to his face, slicking his blonde hair back. His smile softens into a smaller one. Barely there but still so evident.
”I love you too, Y/N.” He says, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers to bring you in for a kiss.
Your lips meet his. The taste of beer lingers for a while but it doesn’t matter. The kiss is soft and loving, just like his personality. Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him deeper and he moves his hand, cupping your face instead. His tongue presses into your mouth, both of your tongues tangling together. His hands reach lower, down to your waist. His muscles flex as he lifts you up onto his lap, a soft and quiet gasp escapes you. He chuckles slightly, looking up at you with glimmering eyes. Fuck he loves you so much. Your hair drapes over your shoulders and frame your face in such a beautiful way that he can’t help but stare. A soft pink color spreads across your cheeks and you turn your head away.
”You’re beautiful, Y/N… I can’t believe I got to marry a person like you…” he says, his voice tender and soft. He means it, really, really, means it. You can tell by the way his eyes are darting back and forth between yours and the way his fingers are slightly trembling on your waist.
His lips are plush against your neck as he’s kissing you like a man gone mad. His hands are up your back, holding you close as he leans forward. You lean your head back, giving him more space to kiss. A soft groan escapes him without meaning to. At the nape of your neck he gently bites down, leaving a light bruise and you moan softly. But Kai doesn’t seem to realize. He immediately pulls back, looking up at you with worried eyes. ”Did I hurt you?” He asks, bringing his hand up to your neck. Patting the bruise with his thumb.
You reassure him that you’re fine. He didn’t hurt you. With the reassurance, Kai continues marking up your neck. ”Y/N… can we.. take this inside?” He asks softly against your neck.
He pushes you back gently on the large and soft bed. Then he starts pulling your bikini panties off, slowly and deliberately like he’s savoring your reaction.
They land in the corner of your room, the both of you know that they will not get touched for multiple hours.
For a second he just stares at you, like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. Because to him — you are.
Small bumps raise on your skin as you get colder and needier. He traces his finger up and down your wet slit. Your hips jerk forward, craving more of his fingers. A small teasing grin grows on his face.
He leans down, moving his hand from your pussy to the sides of your head. Your lips touch in a frantic and needy kiss. Wet saliva coating both of your lips.
You move your hands over his chest, before moving them lower and lower until they’re at the waist of his trunks.
”Please Y/N… I need you so badly…” he moans quietly against your ear as he coats your neck in kisses.
His lips travel lower and lower, over your chest and over your nipples. Down to your pussy. He drags his tongue over your exposed pussy. A shiver runs through you and you tense up.
His large hands wrap around your plush thighs, fingers digging in so hard they could leave marks. You throw your head back as he shoves his tongue into your pussy. Lapping you up as if he were a dog. Your hands find his hair immediately, tangling in it to hold him close.
His tongue works over your pussy. Then his lips connect with you clit, sucking it.
”Ah- Kai… Ngh…” you moan. Your thighs clench around his head and a low moan escapes him.
”Fuck… Y/N you taste so good…” he groans. Your peak comes crashing down quickly. Leaving you breathless. Kai licks up every last drop of you, keeping you grounded after your intense orgasm.
hiii!! if you can, could you please do Sehun with “just want to look at you like this for a moment” and “look at you. What a mess you are” along with physical action no. 11, just add lots of lots of praise with it.
there are barely any writings for sehun here, it’s hard being a sehun biased lmao. thank you and i love your writings 🫶🏻
hi anon i'm so sorry this took a million years, i hope it's okay that it's just a drabble <33
smut (minors dni): sehun x f!reader. soft dom sehun, restraints, praise, edging, overstim, fingering. wc: 631
"Wiggle your wrists for me, baby," Sehun says quietly. You follow his request, shifting your wrists ever so slightly. It's not uncomfortable, but there isn't any give in the ties that are currently securing your arms to the headboard of your shared bed. You are, to your delight, fully restrained.
Sehun's lips trail down your bare body, soft feather-light touches that almost tickle as much as they make your blood run hot. He stops at your legs, urging your thighs apart with his hands. His eyes meet yours: dark, endless pools of desire, pink lips parting softly.
"God, look at you," he whispers. "So fucking gorgeous."
Your cheeks burn hot and you look away. With a tut of his tongue, he grabs your bottom chin with a firm but gentle hold and turns you to face him once again. "Where you hiding, pretty?" he teases, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly. "Just want to look at you like this for a moment."
"Please," you whimper. "Touch me."
Two of his fingers dip shallowly into your wet folds before sinking in, burying themselves in you deep to his knuckle. You gasp, pulling on the ties instinctively, but there's no movement. You could tug, and pull, and thrash, and you know that you'd still be securely fashioned to the bed, and the thought of that just makes everything ten times hotter.
Sehun dips his head into the crook of your neck, wet lips pressing against your skin as his fingers begin to pick up speed. "That's it, just like that," he murmurs, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your spine. "Feel good?"
"Mhm." Your hips buck up when his fingers press against that spot, blindly chasing some sort of friction. "So good."
The pressure is consistent, building up steadily until your words are nothing but hitched breathes and whiny gasps. You clench your fists as you feel it, the anticipation of your orgasm just over the horizon. "Fuck, 'm close," you say, your eyes fluttering shut. "Please, ple–"
Sehun's hand withdraws.
Your eyes fly open as you writhe, hips chasing the sitmulation as your failed orgasm withers away. He holds you still, his gentle hold a stark contrast to the mischievous look in his eyes.
"Just be patient, sweetheart," he smirks, inserting his fingers back into your dripping cunt. "I'll make you feel good soon."
Soon was not the next time. Or even the next. By the fourth time he's dangled you over the edge, you're panting, chest heaving, thighs shaking from behind held open for so long. Your inner thighs are a disaster, slick from your juices. You're there again, so close you can practically taste it.
"You close?" he pants, driving his fingers into you at a brutal pace. "Don't lie."
"Yes!" you wail, not even caring how loud you are. "Please, please. Sehunnie, I need to cum."
His thumb presses against your clit and you nearly sob with relief as your orgasm crashes into you. Your back bows as you arch into his touch, your arms still tightly restrained over your head. Your head lolls back as you come down to earth.
Sehun wipes your sweat-damp hair from your forehead and takes in your broken expression. "Look at you," he says. "What a mess you are."
You cry out when his fingers begin to move again inside of you, resuming their pace as if nothing had happened. "Oh–! Fuck!" You're so sensitive that it feels as though your blood is on fire, white-hot pleasure threatening to burn you up from the inside out. You tug on the restraints but there's no escaping, no shying away from this.
"I thought you wanted to cum," he teases, pressing a kiss to your earlobe. "Well then... cum again for me, pretty."
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⟡ summary: kyungsoo, your classmate had a little crush on you.
⟡ content: college au, fluff, kyungsoo x gn!reader | word count: 0.9k words
⟡ a/note: a cuteness overload for my dear anon who gave me this idea. i personally adore how it turned out !!!
“Doh Kyungsoo?”
The name left your lips easily, but its effect on him was instant. Kyungsoo lifted his gaze, and for a second, he looked utterly disoriented, as if you had pulled him back from another world. His eyes widened, darting quickly to the open pages of his notebook before snapping back to you, a flush of color creeping up his neck. He looked caught, his posture stiffening as if he suddenly felt dangerously exposed.
“Y-yes,” he breathed, the word hitching in his throat. “It’s me… here.”
“I knew it was you,” you said with a bright smile. You didn’t wait for an invitation, instead pulling out the heavy wooden chair to take a seat directly across from him. The library was quiet. “I saw you from the stacks and hoped I wasn’t mistaken.”
Kyungsoo blinked, his hands hovering uncertainly over his notes. “You were looking for me?”
“Actually, the professor told me you were the person to talk to,” you explained, leaning in slightly. “He said you could help me clarify a few things from the lecture. If that’s not too much to ask, of course? I know you’re probably busy.”
“Yeah... sure, sure. Of course. It’s no trouble,” he stammered, his voice gaining a tiny bit of steadiness despite the way his heart hammered against his ribs. He closed his notebook halfway, then opened it again, seemingly unsure of what to do with his hands now that you were actually there. “What is it? What do you need help with?”
“Well, I was struggling with the second chapter,” you said, watching the way he carefully avoided holding your gaze for too long. “But honestly, I’m just glad I found you. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”
“I do,” he whispered, finally meeting your eyes for a fleeting, intense second. “I definitely remember.”
He gripped his pen, looking down at the diagram in his textbook, his thumb tracing the edge of the page with a nervous rhythm.
“So, the fundamental concept is…” he started, but his voice cracked, and he immediately cleared his throat, his face deepening into a shade of red. “Sorry. The concept is based on… well…”
“Kyungsoo,” you murmured softly, letting out a small laugh as you leaned your chin on your hand. “Are you secretly hiding the answers to the midterm in that notebook?”
He let out a sharp, startled breath that turned into a shy, stifled chuckle. “No secrets here. I’m just... I didn’t expect to be explaining this to anyone today.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. I can tell why the professor recommended you.” You reached out to tap the corner of his page to bring him back to the lesson. “Show me that graph again, please? The one you were scrawling over when I walked up.”
Kyungsoo nodded, visibly trying to settle his racing pulse. As he began to explain the technicalities, his natural intelligence started to override his shyness. He spoke with a quiet passion, his hands moving slightly to emphasize a point, though he still paused every time your sleeve brushed against his arm.
“Does that make sense?” he asked tentatively, finally risking a longer look at your face. “Or did I just ramble for ten minutes straight?”
“Total sense,” you reassured him, giving him an encouraging grin. “You’re a natural. Thank you!”
Kyungsoo finally relaxed his shoulders, a genuine, tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay… and sorry for being so awkward. It’s been a long afternoon.”
“Awkward?” You leaned back in your chair, studying the way he carefully reorganized his pens. “Actually,” you said, the thought slipping out before you could filter it, “you’re actually really cute when you’re focused like this.”
Kyungsoo jumped, his pen clattering onto the table. He looked at you with wide, startled eyes, his face instantly blooming into a deep, unmistakable red. He looked so shaken by the word ‘cute’.
“Hell no, scratch that,” you corrected with a grin, leaning closer. “You’re handsome. Definitely handsome is the right word.”
A small, breathless laugh escaped him—not the laugh of someone who knew he looked good, but the panicked, airy sound of someone who couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Kyungsoo ducked his head, his fingers trembling slightly as he closed his textbook. He was clearly trying to find a way to keep the moment from ending, his mind racing to find any excuse to keep you with him.
“Are you... are you hungry?” he blurted out, finally looking up. “It’s getting late, and studying works up an appetite. We could go get something to eat… if you want.”
You looked at him with soft, knowing eyes, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Doh Kyungsoo, are you asking me out on a date?”
“No! I mean—yes—no, it’s just—” He started waving his hands frantically, his words tripping over each other. “It’s for the lecture! It’s just to... to continue the explanation in a more comfortable environment. Entirely academic. Promise!”
You broke into a loud, genuine laugh at his flustered defense, the sound echoing through the quiet stacks. “SHHHH!” a sharp hiss came from a few rows over, followed by a stern glare from a student buried in books.
The sudden reprimand caught you off guard, and you felt your own cheeks turn hot as you realized how loud you’d been. You looked back at Kyungsoo, who was also half blushing furiously, half laughing from embarrassment, both of you realizing you had completely forgotten you were in a library.
“Okay, okay,” you whispered, ducking your head to hide your red face. “I’ll go. Because I’m definitely hungry and… because you’re cute.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes lit up, a small smile breaking through his nerves. “Then it’s a... a lecture dinner,” he whispered back, his heart racing as he began to pack his bag, finally feeling like his daydreams might actually be coming true.
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