themes: body insecurities, sad for a quick minute but a happy ending, felix is an angel as always, felix is whipped
She couldn’t help but to feel insecure—watching as the waves crashed against the shore. Y/n cast a glance in the direction of all the commotion—her gaze landing on one of the women currently wrapped up in an intense game of beach volleyball against some of the guys.
‘I wish I looked like that,” she couldn’t help but to mutter.
Y/n had never been super insecure of her body. That was until she started coming around. It didn’t help knowing that she also had a crush on Felix or that she was absolutely gorgeous. Her weight sat in all the places Y/n wished hers did. A beautiful hourglass figure, flat stomach, silky smooth skin, and a chiseled face.
Layla had a body she never would. And to top it off, she was an absolute angel.
Y/n couldn’t hate her even if she wanted to.
“What’s wrong with the way you look now?”
His deep voice made her jump, eyes wide as she turned towards Felix. There was a frown on his plump lips as he closed the cooler and took a seat next to her. Y/n’s eyes lingered a little too long on the glistening skin of his chest. She blinked, clearing her throat before moving over to make room for Felix on her towel.
She thinks if the silence lingers between them, that he will think she didn’t hear him and they can move on from this. Act like she wasn’t caught admiring another woman’s body and wishing hers didn’t look the way it did.
“You didn’t answer me.”
There’s a pout in his voice as she turns towards him. Her heart skips a beat at how close he is sitting to her. His bare arm brushes hers—the coolness of his wet skin providing a bit of relief to her overheated body.
She doesn’t know how it’s possible, but she thinks that his freckles have multiplied from the past few hours spent in the sun.
“I-,” she begins, but hesitates.
“It’s nothing Felix. Just thinking out loud.”
She laughs but there’s no humor behind it, instead her lower lip wobbles. She turns her gaze from the blonde next to her and back towards the others.
Layla cheers as the ball touches the ground in front of Changbin. Her smile is bright, wind a paid actor as her auburn hair floats beautifully behind her.
‘If only.’
Suddenly, there’s a hand under her chin, turning your attention back in his direction. Her eyes are wide as they meet Felix’s. There’s a furrow between his brow, but his eyes are soft with worry.
It’s then that Y/n feels a wetness on her cheeks. Felix gently wipes her tears before pulling her into his embrace and somehow…it makes her feel worse.
It makes her even more aware of their size difference.
Y/n wiggles free of his grasp, she pretends like she doesn’t see the look of hurt on his face as she stands.
“I’m going to head in for a bit,” she mutters—swiping at her wet eyes as she makes her way past the others and back up towards the house.
‘A bit’ ended up being the rest of the evening. When Hyunjin knocked on her door to see if she was okay, she had told him she felt a bit exhausted from the heat and was going to lay down early—which resulted in Chan delivering a couple of water bottles to her room and scolding her softly for not drinking enough.
She could hear the laughter travel up the staircase as she left her room to shower. Y/n could hear Layla’s laughter—probably at something Felix had said.
She closes the door to the bathroom, slipping into the shower, and letting the water wash away the sand and salt from not only the ocean, but her tears as well.
Y/n is beyond tired when she steps out. She dries herself—frowning as she tries to avoid looking at her body for too long. She continues with her night routine so that she can slip between the sheets once she returns to her room.
As she secures the robe around her waist—there’s a knock at the door.
She thinks it’s one of the others needing to use the bathroom. Without thinking, she opens the door—greeted by the man she had left stranded on the beach.
His hair was wet, the shoulders of his shirt spotted with water droplets from his ends. Y/n figured he must have just washed up as well in his and Chan’s shared bathroom.
He doesn’t say anything as he gently takes her hand in his, leading her back towards her room.
Y/n’s heart leaps in her chest as he shuts the door.
She notices the shiver that wracks his body momentarily from the cool air in her room.
Before he can say anything, she motions towards the vanity, “Sit. I’ll dry your hair.”
Felix looks like he wants to protest but she starts the dryer, waiting for him to sit. He does, but his eyes don’t leave hers. She feels the weight of them on her in the mirror, her palms growing clammy under his gaze. She doesn’t like the attention, not with her earlier accidental confession weighing in the air.
It doesn’t take long for Felix’s hair to dry. She turns the dryer off, moving to lay it on vanity. But as she does, Felix grips her arm. Y/n gasps dropping the dryer onto the floor with a loud thud as she’s pulled into Felix’s lap.
“Felix,” she protests but he holds her firmly in his lap.
“Stop moving.”
The deepness of his voice stills her.
He reaches up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, “Now tell me, what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“It’s nothing Lix. Just forget I said—.”
“It’s not nothing Y/n. You think I don’t notice the way your mood shifts when Layla is around? How much more you cover up and try to make yourself unnoticeable? How you won’t let me touch you without pulling away or stay still in my lap because you think you’re hurting me.”
Y/n’s eyes well with hot tears, her eyes moving to look anywhere but at his. But Felix won’t let her. His own soft brown eyes are filled with tears of his own.
“You don’t realize how perfect you are in every way and that kills me.”
Her brows furrow as she hesitantly meets his gaze, “W-What?”
Felix signs, moving both of his arms around her waist before pressing their foreheads together. Y/n freezes in his grasp, the heat of his breath grazing over her lips.
“You don’t realize the effect you have on me.”
Y/n feels as though she stops breathing.
“But I—wouldn’t you prefer someone like Layla?”
Felix huffs out a laugh of disbelief. His eyes flicker with mischief.
“Layla isn’t the one in my lap right now, is she?”
Y/n’s eyes widen, her cheeks heating but she doesn’t say anything.
“Is that what brought this on?”
His words are soft, wanting nothing but to understand her.
“I—maybe? I never thought anything of myself or my body until she started coming around. She’s amazing don’t get me wrong but she’s so gorgeous. It got worse with the beach trips and then knowing how she felt about y—.”
Y/n bits her tongue as she meets Felix’s gaze.
“I know she likes me.”
Y/n didn’t know how she felt about the news. Before she could overthink, Felix brushed his nose against hers before pulling back slightly.
“I told her that I already had someone else in my heart. Someone funny, kind-hearted, who doesn’t see how perfect she is inside and out,” he whispers as he inches forward again.
“Someone I’ve always dreamed of holding like this.”
Y/n’s breath catches in her throat as his plush lips brush against hers.
“Someone so beautiful in every way it drives me crazy,” he finished breathless before slotting his lips with hers.
The kiss is slow, each press of his lips against hers sending butterflies throughout her body.
Y/n lets him hold her and kiss her until they are breathless. Until those silly thoughts leave her head and until voices rise in the hall wondering where the two of them had disappeared to.
If you enjoyed this, please share so that others may enjoy it as well!
i’m drawn to you // the more i hurt, the more i want you
this rut might burn jeongin from the inside out if he can’t spend it with you. if only he had the guts to just ask.
✤ pairing: alpha!jeongin x beta!f!reader
✤ words: 8k
✤ warnings: omegaverse, polyamorous ot8 (light mxm), jealous innie, smut with hand/blowjob, unprotected sex, he gets a lil rough, biting, 18+ MDNI
✤ notes: this is jeongin’s part of the wolfgang verse! happy bday to this silly fox hehe. i had to speedrun writing the smut so idk how well it turned out lmqjwh. stay tuned for the rest of the parts as they release :O
“GOOOOOD MORNING!” han sings from down the hallway, chipper voice bouncing off the walls as he skips out from minho’s room.
jeongin purses his lips over his iced americano. at least someone slept well – jeongin woke up at the ass crack of dawn to minho’s bedframe ramming against the wall. funnily enough, when he decided to start his day by going to the gym, he ran into chan about to go to bed: red-rimmed eyes from hours of staring at his laptop, noise-cancelling headphones sitting around his neck that he handed to jeongin with a knowing smile.
han bounces on the balls of his feet as he enters the kitchen, his sickeningly sweet scent cloaking the room: pink pepper and cinnamon, made even spicier with the traces of minho still sticking to him. it burns jeongin’s nose when he breathes it in.
despite his sour mood, jeongin can feel his alpha stirring over han’s post-heat glow – his full cheeks split with a smile like he didn’t keep the whole house up last night with his hooting n’ hollering. it’s a stark contrast to earlier this week: heat had hit him hard and fast, he looked as if he was on the brink of death.
you and felix did what you could to console him while minho was away at work, keeping han comfortable and cool as he sweated buckets in the plush sheets of the alpha’s bed. the others had stood by the door in worry – even after han had shooed them away in embarrassment of his state – though they could only grind their teeth and swallow down their instinct to help the omega. no one but minho is allowed to touch han while he’s in heat, after all.
the alpha sure made it up to him, if last night’s cacophony and the love bites littered across his skin were anything to go by – as well as the fact that either had barely emerged from the room since. until now, of course. hopefully this means jeongin can finally get a good night’s rest.
“feeling better?” seungmin smirks, peering up from his phone. han nods as he lugs the fridge open. “sure sounded like you got it all out of your system.”
jeongin clicks his teeth, pissed off just thinking about it. seungmin narrows his eyes at the young alpha, but han merely shrugs as he inspects an apple, untouchable in his thoroughly-dicked-down haze. “just say you’re jealous.”
“i am.” seungmin says easily. “just listening to you two has me considering going off my blockers.”
“that bad, eh? well, you know minho’s always got room for you in his bed, seungie.” han coos. he presses a kiss to the younger omega’s hair, pulling a chair out for himself at the table and chowing down on the apple.
seungmin barks a laugh. “please, only you can take him and live. he’d probably rip me a new one.”
jeongin feels like he could rip something, anything to shreds right now. his alpha bristles under his skin as he sits between the two omegas, provoked for.. honestly, no good reason. maybe it’s the lack of sleep getting to him – this americano has done nothing to relieve the tired weight from his eyelids, or even cool the heat that’s been sizzling restlessly under his skin since he woke up.
“g’morning,” the grumble of your voice grounds jeongin immediately. the three men perk up like dogs as you trudge into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
han calls out your name around his cheeks full of the fruit. “you’re up!”
“i thought you went out?” seungmin adds, smiling at how you’re blinking slowly, all cute. “i was looking for you but you weren’t in your room.”
jeongin cuts him a sharp glance, as if he didn’t also seek you out when he got back from the gym (and after finding that you weren’t there, he may have laid in your bed for a minute or two just ‘cause he was craving your scent or whatever..)
before you can even process where you want to sit, if you were even intending to sit yet, jeongin pulls out the chair right next to him; beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. he catches the other two trading amused glances, but he knows they won’t question it. alpha dominance n’ all that.
“thanks, innie.” you murmur fondly as he pushes your chair back in, feeling pride and something a bit hotter blooming in his chest. you glance back at seungmin. “did you need me for something earlier?”
“just felt like bothering you.” he shrugs. “so, where’d you go?”
“ah, nowhere. i slept in lixie’s room.”
“what?” seungmin plucks the words right out of jeongin’s head, though spoken at a lower decibel than what he was thinking. “where the hell was my invite?”
you roll your eyes playfully. “it wasn’t like that. he was feeling under the weather last night and wanted to cuddle.”
aaand jeongin’s heard enough. he feels sick too, but with the disease called jealousy. physically even – the americano starting to swirl wrong in his gut, nausea clawing up the back of his throat. he shifts in his chair, thighs starting to stick to the leather from sweat.
“innie?” he finds your eyes on him, brows furrowed with your lip pouting a little in concern. “you okay?”
he’d like it if his mouth could open to answer, but his jaw’s sore from how hard he’s been subconsciously clenching his teeth. the words burned out on their way up his throat anyways, because he’s not. he’s anything but.
he nods profusely when the other two glance at him. he doesn’t want to look weak or anything. it’s just… god, when did the room get so hot? why are the lights so bright? and your scent, your fucking scent, it’s assaulting every crevice of his brain and airing out every thought in there.
his brain shortcircuits when you reach out and press your palm to his forehead, which he didn’t even realise was so sweaty until your eyes widen from the wetness on your skin. “shit, innie, you’re burning up.”
han studies the young alpha. not in suspicion, but understanding. something settles in his face before he comments: “do you think it could be–?”
he’s interrupted when a certain bedroom door swings open and floods the room with a heady, unmistakable aroma. everyone goes a little stiff from the recognition – owner of said aroma padding into the kitchen, looking radiant as ever even with his mussed blonde bedhair.
felix says your name in a low, sleepy drawl. “you left me..”
“greedy.” seungmin scoffs. “you had her all night and morning.”
han wraps an arm around felix’s waist when he approaches, rubbing his back and eyeing him keenly. “are you sure you should be out of bed?”
the blonde omega smelled ripe – intense and sunny, like freshly boiled bergamot tea. when the house starts smelling too strongly of citrus, it’s like an omen of the incoming chaos. jeongin can already feel how his body reacts to the blonde omega’s scent, curling around his alpha like smoke and making his hairs stand on end.
of course, with one sunshine twin in heat, it was only a matter of time before the other got set off. consecutively, no less. and now the rest are going to fall into their heats and ruts like dominos.
because with felix, as they love and adore him, his heat alone is enough to set the whole house into a heated frenzy of pheromones.
it clicks in seungmin’s head as he stares at the two sunshine twins, nuzzling into each other’s warmth and rubbing their wrists together – zest and spice curling around the dining table. “ahh, you’re about to be in heat, yongbok?”
“it’d be about time,” you add on. “you should lay back down. i’ll wake minho up to cook us some brekky.”
an annoyed huff leaves jeongin’s nose. you’re too focused on felix’s state to acknowledge it, though seungmin does as his gaze drifts to jeongin. his lip twitches into a smile as he stares at the agitated young alpha, like he knows something jeongin doesn’t–
oh, no. oh. no no no.
it all clicks in jeongin’s head with terrifying clarity. why didn’t he realise this sooner? well, he does know why actually. it’s because this is the first time in years he’s felt this way.
his body is plunging into the first stages of a rut: the mood swings, the insomnia, the way every sound is crushing and every light is blinding. he tries to will himself not to panic as a bead of sweat trickles down his neck. how long has it been now – since his freshman year of college?
after he first showed as an alpha, he endured only a handful of ruts before going on blockers and swearing by them since. ruminating on that period of his life only brings a wave of shame. he couldn’t tolerate his own biology hindering his performance in school, or worse, others’ treatment of him.
it helped having an entire pack that understood and supported him, of course. in fact it’s the entire reason he warmed up to the decision of letting his body function naturally. however, going through every stage of grief while sitting at the dining table has made all of his thoughts from when he initially went on blockers slam back into him at full nelson.
in the same vein of wondering why he even decided to quit them, he remembers the exact justification when he looks to you through half-lidded eyes.
you’re just too fucking beautiful, simply existing. looking like you’re straight from a vogue cover with your bedhair sitting so perfectly messy, your pyjamas hugging your body so… damn. he might be half-hard.
he forces his eyes back to your face: your brows drawn, chewing on your lower lip as you keep an eye on felix. ah, you’re always so concerned and caring towards all of them. so sweet.
as a beta, you’ll never have to live a day where pure, raw need completely takes over your body. that’s not to say you don’t have your own struggles, like in society for instance. despite it all, you’re so in tune and adept at dealing with everyone’s cycles as if you’re drawing from your own experience. they all cherish and adore you for it – jeongin especially. even in a relationship with eight others, you’ve always managed to fluster him like a boy with a crush.
he often wonders how they managed to bag someone as special as you, back when the pack was just a young throuple of chan, changbin and han. perhaps it was the charm of their leader – jeongin can relate. he caught chan’s eye and the rest is history.
your scent spikes with concern as you watch han help felix stand upright, the lurking heat turning his limbs to jelly. jeongin breathes in to let your smell calm him, though it instantly has the opposite effect; striking him with a euphoric rush like poppers.
as you stand from the chair and walk to the dazed blonde, jeongin’s thoughts are consumed with visions of you doing anything but leave his side. he wants to wrap his body around yours and keep you to himself, to splay you on this table and taste your scent gland on his tongue.
the daydream’s shattered when you give felix a soft peck, scenting him gently with your wrist before han sees him back to bed.
seungmin puckers his lips at you expectantly, and you shake your head in amusement before giving him a kiss too – one that turns almost heated on seungmin’s part before you pull away.
all that’s left is jeongin, who’s staring you down so intensely your eyes actually widen a little in surprise when you notice.
he can see the cogs turning in your head: it’s a well known and accepted fact that jeongin’s not the biggest fan of physical intimacy, and he’d rather die than ask for it. but, the way he’s looking at you right now.. well, it looks like someone else might die if he doesn’t get a kiss too.
your hand slides to cup his jaw. jeongin licks his lips and you lean in – kissing him exactly like you know he’d want it. slow, but with force. what becomes a kiss that lasts too long for you, is a kiss that lasts barely a millisecond for jeongin.
“okay,” you sigh as you part with him, having to wipe your mouth from how much his tongue ran over your lips. “i’m gonna go wake minho up. i’m starving.”
“me too.” jeongin mutters. both of you know he’s not referring to any food.
with a brush of your thumb against his chin, a lingering glance at his glossy lips, you’re gone – setting off down the hallway and waltzing into another alpha’s room when you should only want to be in his.
jeongin’s not the possessive type, not like minho at least. jealous though? well, it’s hard to get jealous when your pack is all dating one another, but he’s also been on rut blockers since before he met any of you. his alpha hasn’t shown itself full force like this since he discovered he was one.
for years now he’s been the one to merely witness it in his partners, never been the one to feel it: the burning under your skin, the churning in your gut, the need burrowed so deeply beneath your bones… and it’s weaving one name over and over into his veins.
it’s you. it’s all you. his alpha grows restless and claws beneath his flesh – all jeongin can smell, see, think is you, you, you.
there’s one issue though.
as the pack’s dear princess and sole beta, you’re quite popular particularly during these bouts of felix making his heat everyone else’s problem. jeongin isn’t really intimate as it stands – pretty selective and reserved when he has an itch to scratch, but it’s not something he does often, and his partners respect that. it’d almost be unlike him to want someone this bad, but his alpha nature is just a part of himself that’s finally off the leash after years and years of suppressing it.
for fuck’s sake. he wants you and so does everyone else and that’s a fucking problem. because really, he needs you. he’s got years worth of energy backed up and it’s all going to hit him with this imminent rut. it’ll probably be painful. you’re good at dealing with this kind of thing, it’s why everyone asks for you when they’re going through it.
giggles and groans erupt from down the hall, a mixture of familiar scents wafting into the room. jeongin looks up to see you’ve got not just a moody minho in tow, but also a changbin and a hyunjin who’re shirtless and hanging off of each other. chan will probably rise later with the moon, no doubt.
jeongin can’t help but sigh, shifting in his seat once again. seungmin just smirks across from him.
“i’ve got dibs first.” the omega winks, shameless in how his eyes drag over the skin spilling out from your pyjamas.
the young alpha snarls, but whatever he was going to respond with is lost when changbin ruffles his hair from behind – then saying something along the lines of why in the world he’s so sweaty.
—
if you asked jeongin to give a summary of everything that’s happened in this movie so far, he genuinely wouldn’t even be able to name the title for you. he’s not fucking watch this. not since seungmin stole the spot jeongin was gonna take by your side on the couch, definitely not when the omega threw a blanket over your bodies to shield whatever he was planning to do next, and positutely fucking not since jeongin has been eyeing each and every movement beneath said blanket.
seungmin’s been shameless ever since felix went into heat and the rest followed suite. he’s been unaffected because of his trusty old blockers, but seeing you get down and around with the rest of the pack has made him want a sliver of that attention too. which brings us to now: jeongin, chan, you, and seungmin all sitting on the couch pretending to watch a movie. the rest are either fucking felix through his heat or fucking because of felix’s heat. seungmin actually decided to skip taking his pills yesterday, so his signature jasmine and vanilla is the strongest jeongin’s smelled in months.
it doesn’t help that the omega’s curled into your body on your shared end of the couch (on the opposite end of jeongin’s, mind you) – arms snug around your shoulders, rubbing his scent gland all up on your neck. the smell’s so sweet jeongin swears he can feel his teeth aching.
his cock is for sure aching with how horny he’s been. even just your secondhand scent, like your clothes as he does the laundry or when he walks past your room, has been getting him stiff in his pants. your actual presence has been scarce though because, as to be expected, you’ve been a bit busy helping everyone else through their cycles. you’re holed up in a different room each day, making another man cum each day.
he’s not the possessive type. he’s not. these are his partners just as much as they’re yours. you may have been here longer, and he may be the youngest, but the love in this pack is shared and mutual. there are favourites, naturally – there’s been periods where pairs or even trios have wanted to keep things more ‘exclusive’ for a bit. hell, minho has gatekept han’s heat to himself for as long as jeongin can remember.
right now, you’re the sole object of his desire. his alpha’s rut has a massive fucking arrow pointing at your beta. he fears there’s not enough of you to go around, because it has been days and jeongin has barely gotten a word in with you. each morning he wakes up in a pool of his sweat, every limb aching and every nerve on fire. anyone he does trade words with has been getting nothing but clipped replies and nasty glares. he swears on everything that he’s fine, but it’s as clear as day that he’s finally going through it like the rest of them. in fact, jeongin’s own honey scent has been as potent as felix’s ripe citrus while in heat. chan described him smelling like an angry beehive.
he knows he’s more than welcome to call on someone else to help him through it. hell, he usually enjoys intimacy with seungmin the most, but he’s pissing him the fuck off right now and all his alpha wants is you and exclusively you.
and you know what’s crazy? it’d be so easy to just ask. to say a simple: “hey, scoot over and let me join.” to be honest with his partners in life that he’s in physical pain from how horny he is, and they’d give him relief in a heartbeat. but he doesn’t say anything or do anything.
he doesn’t want to burden you. time and again you’ve helped others and he hadn’t felt anything quite like this – even though he’s always held a certain fancy for you. jeongin knows his ruts can be.. a lot. too much actually. shit, he started popping suppression pills because he needed to stop the 24/7 cravings to fuck anything if he had any hope of graduating collge.
those first few ruts have defined his perception of his own nature. he can’t risk overwhelming any of his partners, not when you’re all so tight-knit. especially not you, who’s special, who he’s barely shared any intimacy with as is. he can forget about pulling some guts out of his ass and ask you to share an actual rut with him – even if you’re the only person his body craves, and perhaps the only saving grace from this torture.
it’s had him seriously consider going back on blockers – to run back to what he’s used to, even if it works against the nature he’s trying to embrace and finally take pride in. taking them when the rut’s already started would only bring a fresh slew of pain, though he’d doubt it’d even bother him over everything else raging in his mind and body.
“i’m going to bed,” chan says suddenly, slapping his knees as he gets up from the couch. “the smell of you both has made me insanely hard. goodnight, i love you all.”
chan excuses himself to his room, foregoing giving you all his usual goodnight kisses because he’d probably pounce instead. you giggle from under seungmin’s body sandwiching you into the couch. jeongin breathes in, your scent filling his lungs – except there’s traces of seungmin’s sticky vanilla curled there too, from just how much he’s scented you.
that actually gets on jeongin’s last nerve.
the young alpha stands abruptly, ignoring your confused glances as he storms off without a word and slams his bedroom door behind him.
he slumps against the door, pressing his palms into his eyes until colours burst behind his lids. he opens them again, blinks until reality blots back into focus. he glances down and sees the massive pitch in his sweats. then he laughs, crushing his forehead between his fingers.
he’s so hard he could cry. god, does he want you. to the point it hurts.
hewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhe–
he palms the front of his sweats, hissing at the barest relief it brings, your face in his mind.
hewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhe–
the shuffling of fabric punctuates his heavy breathing as he wraps a tight fist around himself and fucks into it. not even moving his hand – keeping it stationary as he imagines it’s your warm, wet hole instead.
heneedsyouheneedsyouheneedsyouheNEEDSYOUHE–
with a fateful jerk of his hips he spills onto the floor, muffling a sob behind his palm.
jeongin slumps back against the door. well, that did nothing to relieve it. just like the multiple other times he already jerked off today, yesterday, the day before that and so on. he’s still hard, still horny, still not satisfied.
he sighs, nearly slips on the cum as he grabs some tissues to wipe it up, then flops onto his bed.
his cock twitches as it rubs against his plush mattress, but he doesn’t even bother attempting to reach another orgasm. it’d do nothing to satiate the bottomless pit of lust inside him.
he stuffs his face into the pillow and essentially suffocates himself until black swallows him into sleep.
—
jeongin woke up and instantly wished he hadn’t. just a second ago, you were there: on top of him, dragging your teeth across his scent gland and making him see stars. just a second ago, he felt some semblance of relief as he came in the circle of your fist.
then, his eyes snapped open to the dark of his bedroom – and to the absence of you. in place of your hand was nothing but a pathetic, wet pool staining the fabric of his boxers.
jeongin kicked his sheets off like they were personally responsible for his wet dream (he did add a spritz of your perfume to his sheets so, honestly maybe they were). he haphazardly checked his phone – the digits ‘3:41’ mocking him as they stared back – before launching it into his mattress and storming off to the shower.
jeongin felt like a walking corpse. a zombie that craved pussy instead of brains. a body set to flames.
it felt like millions of needles trying to burst from under his skin, like his organs were coated in molten lava. the ice cold water stream on full blast did nothing to cool the restless fire burning him from the inside out.
the walls around him spun endlessly, his stomach churning in sync with it. when his throat started to sear with bile, jeongin began to pray.
it was answered, if just for a moment – the nausea subsiding just long enough for him to trudge out of the bathroom, pull on some fresh boxers and collapse into his bed.
the rut’s hitting him with everything he’s worth. the wet dream had been the warning, and after he dragged himself to the shower and back, he hasn’t left bed. he can’t.
everything is pissing him off. the way his blanket scratches his skin, the way he’s shivering in a puddle of his own sweat. the way his head throbs with a migraine. the way his cock stands upright, indifferent to his suffering, demanding release.
it’s too fucking hot in here. he needs you so bad he could literally throw up. his phone’s buzzed a few times, laying at his feet from where he threw it, but he can’t find the strength to even lift a finger to go check it. all of the blood in his system is rushing south to his greedy cock, leaving him light-headed and limp. he doesn’t even have enough water left in his body to cry. has anyone ever died from a rut? fuck, if not he’ll be the first. only divine intervention could save him now.
“innie?”
it sounds so distant, so faraway that jeongin concludes it’s a hallucination. he must be dead already.
“innie, hey,”
ah, so his last moments are spent imagining your voice calling to him. he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“yang jeongin!”
he has a full-body jolt like he’s been struck with electricity. he blinks thrice to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him – that you’re actually standing at his bedside, that you’re real and that he’s still very much alive.
“hey,” you say, relieved. “what’s going on?”
he replies in his head, but his mouth doesn’t get the memo – nothing but a strained noise leaving his throat.
you frown, looking at him with such pity he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. you place a plastic bottle of water on his bedside table before sitting gently on the edge of the bed, like you’re afraid of taking up too much space. your hand reaches out to brush a sweat-soaked strand of hair from his forehead, tender touch lingering at his cheekbone as your solemn eyes leave his face.
you watch the rise and fall of his chest under the blanket before pulling it back from his bare chest: flushed red and covered in a thick layer of sweat.
the state he’s in shocks you stiff for a moment. you throw the rest of the cover off of him, air hitting his legs. your thumb circles his cheek as you take in the rest of his body, eyes catching on the visible bulge in his boxers.
“figured you must’ve been going through it..” you lament. “innie, why didn’t you say anything?”
his mouth’s too dry to form any words, so he just shakes his head. you sigh and reach for the water bottle, slipping your hand to his back and gently guiding him upright.
“here.” you tap the bottle to his lips, and he tilts his head back obediently. the water pours down his throat and he groans from the instant relief it brings. he even leans into it, downing the entire bottle in record time.
droplets trickle down his chin as he watches you cap the empty bottle. you clear your throat, looking like you’re a little thirsty yourself after that.
jeongin coughs to test his voice, before muttering a “thank you.”
“it’s nothing.” you murmur, breathless. “can i do anything else to help?”
that gives him pause. he’s had the past few days to say something and hasn’t, but the need is flashing hot in his system and overrides any other thought in his skull. his cock pulses in his boxers just at the thought of you ‘helping’, and of course, you catch it in your peripheral. your throat bobs as you take in the sheer size of him straining – what must be painfully – against the fabric.
“i don’t want to just leave you while you’re like this,” you say, exasperated. “if you want someone else to take care of you, i could go get–”
“–no!” he cuts in, sitting upright. your brows shoot up in surprise. “i don’t want anyone else.” his voice delivers frustrated, like it’s unfathomable he wouldn’t want you.
jeongin shuffles closer, his hands twitching in his lap as he just barely restrains the urge to reach for you. his grip would probably leave bruises.
his breath hitches, the words to just ask lodging in his throat on the way up. you wait, patient, and he knows you won’t move without explicit permission. you’re considerate like that.
jeongin swallows down a boulder.
“please.”
it’s so quiet, he’s not even sure he got it out until your face changes – confusion sliding into understanding.
you cup his face reverently. “tell me what you want, and i’ll do it.”
he nearly gasps in relief as he says, “please, kiss me.”
in the next blink your lips are on his, gentle with the state he’s in. on the contrary, jeongin kisses you so hard your teeth knock and your head cranes back. days worth of needing and suppressing is drawn taut inside him. he licks into your mouth, moaning just over the taste of you on his tongue. you’ve kissed before – gotten a little physical, but never the whole way. and certainly never this passionate.
everyone has differing libidos and boundaries with intimacy. you understand that, you’ve always been careful with jeongin because of that.
but that was him on suppression pills – quite literally blocking a part of himself out. he is selective with who he lets touch him, so the fact that he only wants to share this rut with you? well, if that doesn’t speak magnitudes about how much you’re his favourite, he doesn’t know what will.
your fingers thread through his hair as you kiss him, meeting him halfway as you attempt to match his energy. jeongin still doesn’t trust himself to reach for you and not accidentally hurt you, so he settles for gripping his own thighs – the throbbing between them growing more incessant with each swipe of your tongue against his.
jeongin kisses you like he’s on the brink of starvation. like your mouth is the air he breathes. his spit mixes with yours, and with the low groan he lets out when your teeth scrape his bottom lip.
he doesn’t even know the words to ask anymore, and if he did he wouldn’t be able to get them out. all he needed was you here, your warmth on his tongue. and that’s enough for his cock to twitch violently when his hand creeps over the front of his boxers.
you pull back slightly at the stream of breathy noises from him, blinking at how he’s palming himself almost roughly. he doesn’t give you a chance to question him before he’s diving back in, swallowing your sentence into his mouth.
jeongin’s still burning, the rut still prickling beneath his flesh and churning in his guts. but it all feels good. euphoria pumps through his blood, leaves his head foggy and his cock pulsing your name. he shoves his hand down the front of his pants, closing his fingers around his cock and jerking off as best he can manage in the cramped space, just to the feel of your lips on his.
honestly, he imagined he’d have to tank the rut pains and just suffer through it as opposed to asking you for help – so your presence at minimum is enough to have him close to orgasm.
as his groans turn quicker and higher, you part with him agan; eyes on his panting face as he jerks off to your pretty one. he can see the words on the tip of your tongue – you want to offer to help, but god you don’t want to interrupt either. you’re in awe of him. you’ve never seen jeongin this desperate. no one has, actually.
your fingers creep down from the scruff of his hair and glide down his neck, then dip into his scent gland. jeongin moans, his vision whiting out from the sensitivity, from your soft fingers pressing on the tender spot. as if on command, he cums into his fist – your name on his tongue.
with an exhale over ruining yet another perfect pair of boxers, jeongin opens his eyes, half-expecting it all to have been one crazy fever dream. you’re still here, though; looking at him like you could eat him up.
“more.” is all he says.
it’s as if he didn’t just cum with how his cock still stands upright and tents his soiled boxers, with how he’s hardly even out of breath. if anything it’s like he’s less tired now that he’s got one orgasm out of his system.
“tell me.” you reply, voice a little strained. you don’t go through cycles like the rest of them, but their pheromones can affect you all the same, and jeongin’s sickly sweet honey scent is driving you up the wall.
the fact he hasn’t reached for you yet isn’t lost on you – much like the fact that he didn’t tell a soul that he was going through a rut. you take the initiative by grabbing his wrists and planting his hands on your breasts. it’s like a neuron activates with how his hands immediately close in and knead the flesh between his fingers. jeongin swears he can feel his mouth watering.
“anything, please, just you is enough.” he near-pleads. he’s an alpha, his instinct is to command and to be obeyed, and yet he is melting in your hands. the ‘natural hierarchy’ is nonexistent where the pack is concerned anyways.
you smile, kissing the drool from the corner of his mouth as you reach for his waistband and tug. he lifts his ass a little to help you pull down his boxers enough for his cock to spring free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a string of pre.
“lay back,” you urge him, and he obeys without thinking (hands still on your boobs).
you kiss him, restraint now an afterthought as you put your all into it. he proved how much he wanted you by just jerking off while looking at you – and you’d be crazy to not give him the relief he’s so desperately seeking.
you leave a one last kiss on his lips before travelling south, switching between nipping and licking at his skin as your mouth trails along his jaw. you nose his scent gland, licking a stripe up his pulse and delighting at how he has a full-body jolt over it.
you ravage the expanse of his torso with your tongue and teeth, pulling heavenly noises from him, before at last being at level with his weeping cock. it’s flushed as red as jeongin was when you first walked in on him half-conscious and burning up beneath the blanket.
you lick your lips. “you tell me if it’s too much or if you want to stop, okay?”
“i won’t.” he says, reaching for your hair to hold and keep out of your face. “you tell me.”
you lip twitches into a smirk, one that accepts the unspoken challenge there. “alright.”
you dart your tongue the whole way out, catching jeongin off guard by starting off with kitten licks on his tip. he giggles, shivering at the barest contact.
you apply pressure with your tongue, sliding down to the base and back up, licking deliberately hard on his frenulum. jeongin’s leaking way too much cum to be considered pre. he has so much to give, and each swipe of your tongue on his cock has even more pre spilling from the tip.
he’s not shy about how good it feels either: steady groans falling from his mouth, punctuated by soft whimpers that he doesn’t even realise.
growing impatient yourself, you catch jeongin off guard when you just grab the base of his dick. he winces, his veins pulsing under the ridges of your palm. it’s all the warning he gets before your lips close around his tip and you take his entire length into your mouth – right until it hits the back of your throat. you don’t even gag when even more precum spills out.
he moans, already overwhelmed and feeling his stomach tightening rapidly just from the warmth of your throat hugging his cock, but you’re far from done.
you let saliva fill your mouth before you start bobbing your head, your hand jerking off whatever your mouth can’t reach. jeongin’s on cloud fucking nine. he’s trying his best to hold back, to not just fuck up into the hot hole of your mouth but man, you’re not making it any easier when you hum each time his tip hits the back of your throat.
his hands tighten in your hair as he barely holds on by a thread of restraint, and you make an appreciative noise around him that has his hips bucking unintentionally. he curses, in apology but also because it felt too good.
you don’t mind though. you encourage it. and you show him exactly that by going even harder, provoking him to get rough with you and let it all out. you twist your wrist and you lap at his tip like crazy, bobbing your head all the while and humming around his cock.
“f–uck, ah, tell me–” he trails off, too lost in the sauce to remember what he was gonna say before he holds your head in place, plants his feet on the mattress, and fucks his hips up into your mouth like no tomorrow.
you let him take over, smiling around his cock as he fervently chases the orgasm he so deserves. saliva and precum fill up your mouth and leak down to his balls but jeongin can’t feel anything but the hot, wet, tight hole you’ve so eagerly offered to him. he swears he can feel the rut pains easing from his body with each thrust.
jeongin cums with a shout, shooting his load down your throat with one fateful thrust. his body goes completely limp, pulling out of your mouth – but you close your lips in time to make sure nothing seeps out.
jeongin watches your throat bob as you swallow his cum down, and his dick twitches over the sight.
“you’re so perfect.” he murmurs, almost in disbelief that he even gets to have someone like you to himself (especially with seven partners as needy as he is who must be waiting for their turns.)
you smirk at how his cock is still as hard as it was when you sat on the bed. usually, there’s breaks as you help a partner through a rut or heat. jeongin’s seen you leave the room for water and such as said partner slept or just needed a breather before getting on with another round.
that’s not jeongin, though.
his ruts are restless. sickening greed. he’s never had a partner who’s able to keep up with him, or even tolerate him and his incessant need to fuck. that’s not the jeongin any of the pack knows, since he’s been on blockers since they all first started dating him. but that’s who he’s always been – and now you’re the first to be introduced.
“more?” you ask him, a giddy grin across your cheeks.
he nods, flashing that dimpled smile you adore. “more.”
jeongin makes the move himself this time as he grabs your shoulders and hoists you up until you’re at face level. you giggle at his newfound confidence, and he can’t help but do the same.
you make quick work of pulling down your shorts, tossing them somewhere in the room. jeongin arches a brow at your lack of underwear.
“was betting on not needing to wear any,” you add.
he faux-pouts. “i was gonna ask to keep them.”
“you can take the shorts.” you roll your eyes playfully. “who are you and what have you done with my innie?”
both hands grab your ass with a light smack, making you squeak. “what do you mean? i haven’t felt so much like myself in years.”
you smile at him fondly, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “fair. i’m not complaining, though. just didn’t expect you to have such a high drive..”
“i am an alpha, pretty girl.” he coos. “just thought it was about time i start acting like it.”
“hm.. i think you can go harder.”
“yeah?”
“mhm.”
jeongin’s tongue pokes his cheek. your eyes sparkle, successfully spurring him on.
jeongin snarls as he spreads your cheeks apart with a bruising grip, pushing your ass down until his cock ruts against your wet folds.
“oh fuck,” he lets out a cry at the delicious friction, cock twitching when his tip bumps your clit. “fucking shit, i can’t,”
“i can take it.” you urge him, shifting your hips to line your hole up with his cock. all it’d take is one good thrust and he’d be sliding home. “innie, i want it all.” you leave a kiss on his lips, one that’s soft given the circumstances. “do your worst.”
jeongin curses again, rolling over and taking you down with him. you’re pliant as he presses you into the bed, laying on top and lining himself back up.
he holds his breath as he finally nudges into your pussy, pushing in deliberately slow just to savour the way you pulse around him and adjust to his shape. his cock slides in with ease with how drenched you are, and he lets out a moan once his hips meet your ass with a light clap as he bottoms out.
“fuckfuckfuck,” he’s bumbling in your ear from behind, every thought fizzling out because your pussy’s got him dumb. he waited for this. put himself through avoidable pain while yearning for this, dreaming for this. he already figured why you’re everyone’s favourite, why they all call on you to spend a heat or rut with. but now jeongin’s feeling it firsthand: pulsing and gripping around his cock like a vice.
he snaps his pelvis, and you both sob in tandem. the angle’s good – he’s all up in there in the right ways. he soils his balls in your arousal as he grinds forward, making sure you feel each inch dragging against your walls.
“fuuuck, feels too fucking good.” he grunts, pulling out to the tip just to slam back in and have you both jostling up the bed from the force. “i’d fight for this pussy.”
your giggle’s lost in a gasp as he starts to fuck you ruthlessly, cock ramming into your g-spot with each of his pointed thrusts.
jeongin snakes a hand around the front of your neck, splaying his fingers out to press in to your scent glands on either side of your neck. the noise you let out damn nearly makes him cum on the spot, and his effort to not is nearly in vain when you clamp down around his cock from the sensitivity.
he moans, pressing his palm further into your throat. not hard enough to hurt, but enough pressure to leave your head fuzzy as he fucks into you like a madman – swiping a thumb across your tender gland whenever he wants to feel you squeeze the life out of his cock.
his head falls down to your shoulder, and you shiver at the cold metal of his chain hitting your skin.
“i don’t want any of them having this,” jeongin hisses, running his tongue over your scent gland, your sweet taste lighting up his palate as you clench down on his cock as if on instinct. “shit, ugh, want this pussy to be mine– all fucking mine.”
“innie!” you cry out, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids as he rubs the scent gland on his neck right up on yours – the taste of honey on the back of your throat.
he snarls, resisting the urge to just bite down and leave a mark on the spot – a statement to anyone who tries to scent you. he was here first, and it’s his from now on.
he settles on your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the skin and revelling in how your body responds. he leaves a patch of bites there: soothing each sting with his tongue.
“wan.. wanna see you,” you all but sob, helpless to the noises jeongin’s pulling from you by hitting your g-spot just right each time.
“fuck.”
it’s all fast movement from there, jeongin not even pulling out as he leans back enough to spin you over and have you laying facing him. when he fucks you again, it’s somehow even harder – his chain dangling in your face with each hard thrust.
you could almost laugh at the irony of it being a cross. you pull jeongin’s face down by the chain, makin a show of biting the metal cross between your teeth as fucks you.
he grunts, lashes flutter.. and then he loses it.
“shitfuck–ah ah–” he’s whimpering, mind completely honed in on how you’re spasming around him and moaning around his chain in your mouth. he shoots a hand down to your pussy, rubbing quick eights onto your clit, and you all but scream as he sends you into an orgasm.
you squeeze down around his cock and wring him out for all he’s worth as he cums in tandem with you, muffling his pathetic moan around your neck as he sucks a bruise onto your scent gland.
even after both of your orgasms, jeongin’s still fucking you, just to feel the mess of your cum gushing around his cock. you’re long past sensitive, writhing under his body keeping you pressed into the mattress – and yet you still moan when you feel a fresh load of warm cum seep into your pussy, jeongin trembling above you after reaching yet another orgasm.
he pulls out slowly, careful to let as little as possible seep out. ideally, he wants his cum to still be there the next time you fuck someone else. he wants whoever it is to taste him and think of him as they eat you out.
on that note…
jeongin shuffles down your body, greedy hands prying your jelly thighs apart and licking his lips at the sight of your messy, wet hole.
“please sit on my face?”
you laugh, head lolling back on the bed. “here i was thinking you were done.”
jeongin clicks his tongue. “baby, this is foreplay.”
—
for the first time all day, jeongin retrieves his phone from the spot he left it and checks the time.
3:42.
damn, it’s been a whole day since he woke up knocking on death’s door. he almost forgot that happened with how he’s spent the last countless hours sucking and fucking his beautiful girlfriend.
you curl into his side, seeking out his warmth even after an entire day of feeling that same warmth all up in your guts.
he kisses the crown of your head, admiring how cute you are cuddled into him like this. he feels his cock stirring, but he’s not so evil he’ll wake you up from the sleep you very much deserve after dealing with a rut as high maintenance as his.
it’s okay. none of your other partners have come knocking at the door, so he’s sure they won’t mind if jeongin needs you for another day. just in case the rut pains come back, of course.
jeongin’s bedroom door swinging open cuts through the moment of peace – both of you jolting upright in bed, squinting to make out the illuminated figure standing in the doorway who dare disturb your slumber.
“yah, she was trying to sleep.” jeongin whisper-yells.
“well i can’t because i’ve been bricked up all day.” seungmin says bluntly. “sooo you doing me next or what??”
The reason Changbin diligently cuts his hair while being so casual. It's not just for this comeback, but because he wants to intuitively see the results of his five years of hard work.
He’d walk you home after a long evening together, hands brushing for the tenth time before he finally gathers the courage to lace his fingers with yours. His grip would be gentle but secure—like he wasn’t just holding your hand, but holding the moment. The street would be quiet, golden light from the lampposts softening the world around you, wrapping the night in something warm and unreal.
He’d stop just a few steps from your door, not ready to let go yet.Hyunjin would look at you like you hung stars in his sky. His gaze would linger on your lips for just a second too long before he flicks his eyes up to meet yours. There's something unspoken there, a tension that simmers between you but he doesn’t move too quickly. He’s patient. So, so patient.
His thumb would brush along the back of your hand, voice dipping into that velvety tone only he can manage. “Can I kiss you?”
And it wouldn’t feel like a question...It would feel like a promise.
When you nod—soft and breathless—he’d take one step closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he doesn’t touch you properly. His fingers would be cold from the night air, but his palm? Warm. Steady. Reverent.
He’d pause for a heartbeat, lips inches from yours, breath mingling—giving you time to pull away, even though he already knows you won’t.
And then he’d kiss you...Slow. Devoted. Like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you. Like you’re a secret he’s waited far too long to know.
His lips would move with quiet confidence, tilting your head gently, coaxing you to melt into him, to give in and god, it’d be impossible not to. His fingers would slide behind your neck, holding you there like you belong to him already. There’d be no rush, no hunger he can’t control—just the kind of kiss that says I see you, I want you, I adore you.
--
𝑄𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘, 𝑠ℎ𝑦 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒…
...so soft it’d make your heart ache.
He’s not one for loud PDA—especially around the guys. He gets shy, flustered, all blushy cheeks and hidden smiles. But when he’s around you? He just has to touch you, somehow. Even if it’s subtle. Especially if it’s sneaky.
It starts small. His pinky hooking yours under the table when you’re all out eating together. A soft bump of his knee against yours when you're sitting on the floor in the dorm living room. You’ll catch him glancing your way every few minutes, eyes crinkling at the corners whenever you meet his gaze—like you’re both in on a secret no one else knows.
But then there are the kisses.
The stolen ones....The kind that happen in quick little bursts when no one’s looking.
Like that time you’re standing in the hallway outside the practice room, waiting for Chan to finish talking to the choreographer. Hyunjin pretends to fix your hair, tugging a loose strand behind your ear ..then suddenly, without thinking, he leans in and pecks your cheek.
It’s fast. So fast you’re not even sure it happened until you see the pink rising up his neck, his eyes wide like he can’t believe he just did that.
“Sorry—couldn’t help it,” he mumbles, hiding half his face behind his sleeve. But there’s a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he’s proud of himself for being brave.
Or the time you're all watching a movie in the dorm, lights dimmed, everyone sprawled across beanbags and couches. You’re sitting beside Hyunjin, shoulders brushing. He leans in like he’s about to whisper something about the movie but instead? His lips graze the edge of your jaw. Soft. Barely there.
You freeze, turning to look at him.
He’s already pretending to watch the screen, pretending he didn’t just kiss you with the tiniest grin playing on his lips.
--
𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑘 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒…
…a slow, intoxicating unraveling.
He’s sprawled across your couch, flushed and buzzed, one leg stretched out lazily while the other is tucked beneath him. His head lolls to the side as he watches you pour him another drink, and there’s a dreamy little smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“You trying to get me drunk, or are you just flirting again?” he asks, voice thick and warm.
You laugh, setting the glass down with a clink. “You’re already drunk.”
Hyunjin hums, then leans forward, arms resting on his thighs as he stares at you—like he’s trying to decide something. There’s heat in his gaze, but something softer too. Like he’s been thinking about this for a while. Like the alcohol only cracked the surface of what he’s been holding back.
“You look really pretty tonight,” he murmurs.
Your heart stutters. “You’ve said that three times already.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, “but this time I’m saying it because I want to kiss you.”
He says it so honestly. So directly. No teasing smile. No over-the-top flirting.Just Hyunjin—bold, tender, slightly tipsy, and completely done pretending he doesn’t want to.
Before you can say a word, he gets up and walks toward you, slow and unhurried. His fingers find your wrist first, brushing against your skin lightly as he steps into your space. His touch is gentle, but it grounds you. Holds you still. Like he’s making sure you don’t disappear on him.
“Can I?” he asks.
You nod.And that’s all he needs.His lips press to yours—warm and soft, but not hesitant. He kisses you like he’s been aching for it, like he’s finally letting himself feel the things he usually keeps behind careful smiles and quiet glances. One of his hands cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, while the other slides to your waist, holding you in place—not forcefully, but firmly enough that you feel it in your spine.
There’s a hunger there. A heat. But he keeps it slow.Hyunjin kisses you like he’s savoring something can't quite name it...Like you’re something rare and he’s not ready to let go yet. His lips move with intention, coaxing you deeper, and when your fingers curl into his shirt, you feel a quiet growl at the back of his throat.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers against your mouth.
You don’t respond. You can’t.Not with the way he’s kissing you again—deeper every time, tongue sliding just barely against yours, fingers tightening at your waist. Still soft. Still him. But there’s no mistaking the way he takes his time claiming the moment.
No one’s watching. Its just you both in your little bubble...It’s just Hyunjin—drunk, breathless, beautiful and entirely yours.
--
𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒…
…like standing in the eye of a storm and realizing the thunder isn’t what’s dangerous—it’s the silence.
He wouldn’t yell. Not unless he was really pushed. But when he’s upset? He goes quiet. Withdrawn, eyes burning with unspoken things, jaw tight as if every word he’s holding back could tear through the walls if he let them.
His arms would be crossed at first. Brows drawn. Hair slightly messy from how many times he’s run his fingers through it out of frustration. He wouldn’t look at you—not fully. His gaze would flicker everywhere else until it lands on you again, and then it just stays.
There’s tension in the room—thick and heavy and it’s not just about the fight. It’s the ache of caring too much. The kind that makes Hyunjin’s chest rise and fall in short, frustrated breaths.
"You don't get it," he’d mutter, voice low, like he’s trying not to raise it. "You never stay to listen when I—"
He stops himself. Swallows the rest of the sentence. Runs a hand down his face.Then he steps closer.Not fast. Not sudden. Just deliberate. Controlled.
Hyunjin’s hands curl into fists at his sides for a second—like he’s debating whether to touch you or not. Whether it’ll help or only make things worse.
But he does....His hand reaches out, grabs your wrist—not roughly, but with a kind of desperation he can’t hide. His other hand comes up to your face, hesitant for a breath… then cups your cheek like he needs the grounding.
“I hate fighting with you,” he says, barely above a whisper.
And then, he just kisses you.
Hard. Not violent, not aggressive but intense. Like he’s trying to kiss the anger out of himself. Like the only way to stop the spiral is to remind himself how much he loves you. His lips are warm and firm against yours, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond—he just sinks into it, hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.
You feel the tension in his body melt and snap all at once—shoulders trembling slightly, fingers gripping your waist like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. Like this is his apology, his confession, his surrender.
When he finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t step back. He stays close, breath shaky, forehead resting against yours.
“I get so scared,” he admits, voice raw. “Scared you’ll give up. That I’m too much.”
You shake your head, but he’s already pulling you into another kiss—this one softer, slower, but just as aching.
No one kisses in a fight like Hyunjin does....He doesn’t kiss to win.
He kisses to feel everything you’re not saying and to show you everything he is.
--
𝐴 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑒𝑥 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒…
…devouring.
But not rushed. Not sloppy. It’s intense, yes but deliberate. Because Hyunjin doesn’t just kiss you in the heat of the moment. He kisses you like he’s making love with his mouth too. Like your lips deserve the same reverence as every inch of your body he’s worshipping.
His hips move in slow, deep rolls, pressed flush against yours, every thrust dragging a soft whimper from your lips and that’s when he leans down.
Not just to kiss you, but to look at you first.
His hair falls around your face like silk curtains, messy and sweat-damp, framing the softness in his expression. His eyes lock onto yours, and for a heartbeat, the entire world disappears. It’s just him and you—chests rising in sync, skin flushed, breath tangled.
The look in his eyes is devastating.So full of love it’s almost painful. Like he’s overwhelmed just by the sight of you beneath him. Like he still can’t believe you’re real.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes and back again. “I’ll never get used to this. To you.”
And when he kisses you—it’s deep. Open-mouthed. Tongue sliding against yours in slow strokes, pulling you under with him. He kisses you like he’s trying to climb into your chest. Like your mouth is the only place he can breathe properly.
One hand grips your thigh, holding your leg around his waist, while the other cups the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you—mouth against his, lips swollen and slick from everything he’s giving you.
He moans into your mouth. Not loud. Just a soft, low sound of need—raw, shaky. Like he’s losing control but still trying to keep it together for you.
And when he pulls back just enough to breathe, his lips barely leave yours. His nose brushes yours. His eyes flutter open and there it is again. That look.
The one that says, I’m yours...The one that says, This is love, not just lust.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing yours with every word. “You always do.”
Then he kisses you again. Deeper this time. More hunger. More ache.
His hips pick up pace slightly, the drag of him inside you matching the rhythm of his kiss—slow but harder now, like he needs you to feel everything he can’t say. He swallows your moans, lets you bite his lip, and kisses you again before you can pull away too far.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispers, lips ghosting along your jaw. “I can’t get enough of you.”
He kisses you like he’s trying to stay grounded. Like without your lips, he might fall apart.
And when your fingers tangle in his hair and you whisper his name against his mouth?
Hyunjin kisses you harder.
Because this isn’t just sex to him-It’s you.
And he’s going to kiss you like he loves you for the rest of his life.
--
𝐴 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑥 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒…
…gentle.
Like the hush that follows a storm. Like the warmth of a blanket pulled over bare skin.
You’re lying on your side, his body curled around yours, chests still rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. Your legs tangled, your skin still tingling from everything he gave you. He’s stroking your back with slow, featherlight fingers—up and down, again and again like he’s still calming you down, even now.
And then he leans in. Not suddenly, not like before. But with care. With softness.His hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. His eyes search yours for a moment, and there’s a look on his face—so full of love, of reverence, it makes your heart twist.
“You okay, baby?” he whispers, his voice raspy, worn.
You nod. “Mhm. Perfect.”
He smiles softly and that’s when he kisses you.Not with heat this time, but with love. Deep, slow love. The kind that tastes like forever.
His lips move against yours like he’s afraid to break you, like you’re something delicate, something to be held with both hands and a promise. His mouth is warm, sweet, and unhurried. There’s no urgency. No lust. Just him loving you in the quietest way possible.“Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. “For letting me love you like that.”
Your fingers graze his jaw. “You always make me feel safe.”
He kisses you again—softer this time, barely there. Like a vow.Like I’m here.Like I adore you.Like You’re mine.
And when he finally pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His nose brushes yours, and he lets out a soft little sigh, eyes still closed. He stays close. Holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world.
Because to him… you are.
And that kiss?It’s not just aftercare....It’s not just love....It’s home.
--
𝐴 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑏𝑦𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒…
even when it's just for the day would feel like he's letting go of a part of himself.
You’d be halfway through putting on your jacket, phone already in hand, glancing at the clock with a small huff. “I’m late,” you’d mumble, more to yourself than him.
Hyunjin would be standing by the doorway, leaning against the frame with sleepy eyes and tousled hair, still in the oversized shirt he wore to bed. The morning light would spill in behind him, casting him in a soft, golden glow that made it nearly impossible to leave.
He watches you, quiet at first—eyes scanning your face, your hurried fingers zipping up your jacket, the way you tap your thigh distractedly while checking your bag.
Then, finally, he moves. Slow. Purposeful.
He walks over and gently takes your phone out of your hand, sets it aside without a word. Both arms wrap around your waist, firm but tender, drawing you close until your chest is pressed to his. You blink up at him, mouth opening to protest, but he silences you with a quiet look.
“Just a second,” he murmurs.He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that’s soft but full—lingering, like he’s trying to leave a piece of himself with you for the day. His hands smooth over your back, one resting between your shoulder blades, the other curving over your hip like he doesn’t want to let go just yet.
The kiss is full of emotions —warmth, a tiny ache, the smallest trace of reluctance.
When he pulls back, his nose brushes yours, and he presses one more kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then your cheek. Then your forehead. Slow. Loving. As if to seal you in protection before you step into the world.
You’re the one to smile first this time, a little breathless. “Hyun, I really have to go.”
“I know.” His thumb strokes over your side. “I just needed one good kiss to last me till you’re back.”
He gives your nose a final tap with his lips, then releases you slowly, fingers sliding from your waist like he’s still savoring the warmth of your skin.
And as you step out the door, you already feel it—that invisible thread of affection still tugging at you, tied tight around the kiss he left behind.
Taglist: @pochacco-baby, @princesskrystix
--
A/n : Haven’t felt much motivation to write lately, especially with everything going on around the AI fics situation(i really hope this gets issue solved). Still, I wanted to finish up this piece I had sitting in my drafts for a while.Hope you enjoyed it<3
jbbartram-illu
areudirty
yousharknotpass
kianamaiart
kaledo-art
tangentwithtanner
blakekathryn
discoholicmusic
titsay
stormborns
