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˚ʚ About Me ɞ˚
You can call me Sian [see-en] (she/they) and I'm 23. I'm currently on an indefinite hiatus from writing, so I don't have an upload schedule anymore.
Free 🇵🇸 & FUCK ICE.
Dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/rookthornesartistry
warnings: dom!jeongin & sub!reader ⋆ biting! ⋆ marking! ⋆ hand! & mouth!kink ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ choking! ⋆ finger!sucking ⋆ katoptronophilia! (arousal of doing sexual activities in front of a mirror) ⋆ almost getting caught ⋆ small!manipulation, gaslighting and corruption ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ clit!play ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ squirting! ⋆ fingering (f.receiving)
summary: you always noticed them — his hands, big, fingers long and slender, so veiny, that you could feel every single one of them pressing against your skin…you tried so hard not to act on your own inner desires, but as more things started to happen, your control over your body began to waver — and you weren’t the only one
main masterlist
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He doesn’t even know what he is doing to you. Your lips fall apart, your own fingers grazing over your lips, face, trailing lower and lower, imagining they were his instead. With every simple move of his hand — gripping, holding, touching or even just extending — with every look, every fleeting glance, your whole body shakes from the inside, mind turning to mush. You tried to stop, feeling so awful after every single thought of his hands, but nothing was enough to keep you from denying yourself the small pleasure of even trailing your eyes trail over them. His hands — so big, so strong, fingers long and thin, veins pressing against his skin every time he so much as grazes over something, rings glimmering at you teasingly. You can’t stop yourself — not now, when you have finally, just barely, started to feel them pressing against you.
Jeongin…when you first met him, he was shy — always wearing a sweet smile on his face that deepened into the cutest dimples. That is how you remember him and that is what you thought he is always like. You still remember how your own anxiety radiated off you at the thought of meeting your best friend’s friends. However Felix, being his bubbly self, did everything he could to make feel comfortable — comfortable enough that you eventually started coming to their practice from time to time. At first, you didn’t want to get to know them, mostly of the fear that they might not like you, but that fear faded quickly, forgotten the first day you ever spent with them.
Like Felix, they all were nice to you. Some more quiet than the others, but they always intended to make you comfortable and included — from Chan, making you feel included in every conversation, to Minho making sure your plate is always full, to Changbin always putting smile on your face with his stupid jokes, to Hyunjin who you share your love for art with, to Han who secretly shares his sweets with you, to Seungmin whose bickering and nagging keeps you occupied most of the time, but with his and all of your new friends’ doings, it still couldn’t make your attention even a little waver away from him.
He is all the same — quiet, but after some time you have realized that maybe it is just you. With the others he is open, he is more himself and you? You keep your eyes on him. The beginnings were difficult for everyone — always careful with their words and actions, till they finally saw the small weight on your shoulders fall off. You didn’t even realize how truly you were nervous around them, but they actually were just acting careful around you, so they wouldn’t scare you off. Even him, but with him, you have never truly got close enough.
You were staring, awfully so and you wonder how the others didn’t picked up on it yet or even him. Maybe somehow they did, maybe they just didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe they were just clueless. He was nothing, but kind to you, walking around you slowly like in waiting, but you always did nothing, but stare. He also, not like the others, didn’t touch you — not even a slight push nor a hug. You do know about his small dislike of someone touching him and you do respect it, keeping your hands to yourself, while also imagining what it would feel like to have his on your skin.
You wonder if he maybe did notice your eyes on him, nonmoving, glaring, but after some time you started to notice the small changes between you two. You don’t remember, when it was the first time you truly noticed them, but you do remember the time, when he got you a drink you have requested. You remember how his fingers wrapped around the cold can, leaving small imprints — you remember, when you went to take it, your own fingers didn’t even reach where his once were. Even just this lingering memory makes you shake, air getting stuck in your throat. Such a small gesture — simple, but it meant so much more for you. It also fully started your little obsession, with his hands.
You have never touched them, not even that time, too careful and trying to be respectful and with that you never truly appreciated, how nice his hands are. You for quite a while didn’t even realize yourself how much time you have spent looking at them. You always liked hands, you even had a particular picture of perfect pair of hands and he had them. It is almost one of the first things you notice on a person and not just in a certain way — how they hold a pen, phone or even how they squeeze at you, when you go shake your hand with theirs. However there was also a one way you like them the most — how they would hold you, grip at you or even pinch you. You didn’t want to think about him and his hands in that way, because you thought it was wrong, even pinching yourself every time it crossed your mind. Your skin was tender at the end of the day and even the slight sting couldn’t stop you and at one particular night, when you were on the brink of sleep, you decided to not hold yourself off any longer.
Your mind was already fuzzy, exhausted. You could feel the world around you turning into black spots before your very eyes, but you knew that it mostly wasn’t from the need for sleep. You couldn’t close your eyes, mind swirling, thoughts a mess, before every black spot before you formed into one solid picture. Him — right on top of you, caging you, body pressed against yours. His hands — trailing over your body, gripping, pinching your skin between his fingers. Your breathing has turned into quiet gasps as you followed his imaginary movements with your own hands. Oh, how would they feel running through your hair. How his fingers would pinch lightly at your peeks. How would he use them on you — pushing, scissoring, moving so fast, curling just right, till they reach the one delicious spot inside you and you just know it would be so good. He would know perfectly what to do to you — you would let him do anything and everything to you…You would let him wrap his hands around you, till your skin would turn tender. You would let him wrap them around your neck, your hips, your thighs, everything. You would let him fuck you onto his fingers, cunt leaking all over him, squeezing tightly, because you knew it would be too delicious to stop…You are a mess and a one thing that didn’t help was that he had finally started to feel comfortable around you.
You felt so dirty, yet you couldn’t stop, not when the thought of your hands replaced by his brought you to such ecstasy that it made your eyes roll back into your head. When he for the first time touched you — shivers of delight ran down your spine, world around you swirling. It was so simple again, but it being him was everything, but that. Shock — sparks alighting on the spot and you did nothing, but stare dumply at him, yet again he didn’t seem to notice.
One day, when you were outside in a small garden, it had happened. That night was warm, small wind blowing through your hair as you so desperately tried to put them behind your ear to take a small bite of Minho’s amazing cooking. You were frustrated, huffing lightly as your hand came to wrap around the small strand of hair, that kept getting inside your mouth every time you would try to take a bite. You were almost ready to rip it out of your head, till you felt a small graze of fingers against your temple and like your body knew, you froze. Standing before you, looking down at you, was Jeongin and for a split second you caught his gaze — staring, he was staring right at you…your lips. The food in your spoon almost fell off, watching him slowly and precisely put your stubborn hair behind your ear, before turning back around to the conversion he was having with Hyunjin, like nothing had happened.
Like he didn’t just touch — like he didn’t do something so intimate, right in front of the others, like he didn’t just stare at your lips….
Your appetite didn’t return, it just turned into something way more different. The first time he ever laid his hands on you…Maybe you were thinking too much, but you never have felt such a rush, when Felix did it for example. So simple, yet not. For the rest of that night, like every other, you couldn’t stop looking, thinking, dreaming about those hands. Everything he did with them was something so mesmerizing and you were absolutely smitten. That night is treasured deeply in your heart and how much you didn’t expect him to do it again and again.
You tried to keep your distance, even if it didn’t mean much since you kept looking at how his fingers moved — so elegantly that you truly couldn’t do anything about your staring, but he…he seemed to only move closer and closer to you since than. When he first sat beside you, your body almost froze, like you were certain a small move would make him move away. Maybe you did want that in some way, because his whole presence made your mind shut off — mumbling, muscles spasming yet frozen and you truly wonder how you could even press down on the buttons of the controller you were holding. The game you were playing with Felix was quickly forgotten, his whining and shouting, nothing but a background noice, but one sentence ringed in the air.
“Let me try.”
Your head didn’t turn to him, body so still you didn’t know if you should just fall over so the ground could swallow you whole. He never truly spoke to you and you have to wonder again how is it that he has you wrapped around his finger this much…that’s right his finger, the one touching yours. Your eyes stared down on the controller in your hands as he came to grab it from your grasp, hands momentarily wrapping around yours. His hands — so big and warm were almost galloping yours and you couldn’t fight against the small sigh leaving you. His touch was again so brief that you thought it was just your wild imagination, but it did happened and you did find the last bits of strength to look up at him.
He was smiling, dimples showing seemingly sweet, but something in his eyes flickered briefly, when he trailed his gaze over your features before looking away. You were a mess, truly a mess and there is no other word better to describe yourself. Since than he did so many things with his hands, when he was near you — hands running through his hair, till you got a whiff of his lingering shampoo, his fingers tugging at the zipper of his hoodie, tapping against the glass of his drink, fingers pressing against his lips, when he was deep in thought and every time you looked — every time you noticed how his head would slightly tilt into your direction and every time you looked away in shame. Every time your eyes met his, you naively thought he was only glancing your way, only looking at his new friend — but, oh…how wrong you were.
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Sweat — rolling down their flushed skin, chests rising in deep, rigid breaths, that you mirror lightly in your own way. You can see the exhaustion dripping off them, heads rolling back, muscles jumping, joints shaking as they slump down to the ground. You don’t know for how long you have been here, how long you have been lost in thought, but it was enough for them to feel their bodies screaming for relief. You tried to helped them the best you could, but you yourself didn’t see why you were even needed here in the practice room. Felix and the others, thought of you as a thing to lean on, a support and what kind be friend would you be not to stay…Even if you were just sitting on the couch watching — watching him.
Your best friend startles you a little, pulling you out of your thoughts as he flops down next to you, huffing, stretching. “Man, I am so tired–“ Felix whines to no one particular. However you do smile a little, when he turns to you to jokingly pout, before his lips part again to blow out puffs of air.
“We should take a break.” Says Chan, nodding at everyone, seemingly exhausted as well. The new comeback was a weight on everyone’s shoulders right now — nonstop practicing, trying to get perfect their dances that were already flawless. You had thought that maybe your presence might distract them somehow. However to them you were a calm presence, a shoulder to lean on. What they didn’t seem to realize, though, is that it was quite the opposite for you. It felt like torture in a sense…watching sweat drip down his face, trailing down his neck, pulling at his thin t-shirt in attempt to cool down a little, hearing the heavy breaths escape him between takes, the deep frown of concentration etched on his face as he danced.
You are more quiet than usual, fidgeting with your own hands, as your eyes travel from him to the others — no use whatsoever, because you still found yourself looking at him as he goes to sit down on the floor. “Want something to eat, before we continue?” Asks Chan, voice breathy and his question is already being answered by series of agreements.
You don’t know what time it is now, but you do feel small specks of exhaustion settling over you too. Still, as always, your mind and heart ignore the rest of your body, too occupied with the view infront of you. Jeongin had you mesmerized by his smooth movements, hair now slightly damp from the hours of practice and you couldn’t help, but wonder how much time had passed to get him like this — body sprawled over the floor, elbows holding his upper body up as he leaned back into the couch. Every time he would take a breath, his dark t-shirt would cling onto his chest. His head is rolled back, giving you a view of his long neck, your eyes following the prominent vein peaking from beneath the thin skin, Adam’s apple bobbing, looking good enough to bite and his hands…they keep twitching, like tapping into the rhythm of the music that already had stopped playing minute ago. You are distracted again, so much you don’t feel or hear the others moving around the room.
“Innie-ah, you coming?” Asks Hyunjin and that makes you turn away from him to the others, who look at their dark haired friend, who is still sitting on the floor. You don’t even realize, that they already moved to go get some food, your eyes meeting Felix’s and you do know he could see the way yours widened at the next words.
“No–“ Says Jeongin and you already feel a lump forming in your throat at the answer as he doesn’t even take a move to go with them. “Just buy me whatever.” He waves his hand lightly, your eyes flickering over the room back to him and you almost crumble, when he meets you in the middle.
You can feel the others now looking at you too in a silent question, which should be simple to answer in a sense, but you can’t help but almost stutter. You will be alone…alone with him, if you don’t go and you don’t know if you want that. No, you feel like your body needs that — feeling his and his presence only caging you in and the thought makes your seemingly exhausted body wake up from any kind of slumber it was in. Your body and heart speaks for you, but your mind screams at your answer.
“I don’t want anything — I will just wait here.“
Everything was said so fast and collected, but your gaze didn’t waver from his, because you physically couldn’t look away. You watch his eyes narrow a little, fingers twitching again and like a fly you follow the movement, almost blacking out at that, because he just saw you. He was you definitely looking and if you hadn’t turned away as if the sight of his hands physically burned you, it might have not look so obvious. You curse at yourself silently in your mind, glancing at the others, who nod at you in acknowledgment, before taking their leave and just as their presence started to fade, you feel his grow heavier — expanding, filling the space around you.
You are choking, thoughts a mess and for the first time you don’t think about anything and you just feel. You don’t hear, but feel the doors closing, the distancing footsteps, the way his breathing levels, the way his muscles stretch, when he goes to take a sip of his water. The way his fingers scrunch up the water bottle…You want to cry, scream, anything, because you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You have never been so smitten, so mesmerized by someone and the worst part is that he might never know…
Jeongin swallows the last bits of water, before looking at you. Your legs are pushed up to your chest, sitting in the far corner of the couch, like you wanted to make yourself as small as possible. The dimmed light highlights the small frown on your face, watching silently, how you fumble with your fingers. It was quiet, nothing, but the small rustles of fabric from him, when he moves to stretch a little and the small hum of the air conditioning in the room. The small cold breeze does nothing for your heated skin, eyes looking down at nothing in particular, silently counting the seconds. You are pathetic — finally you have him alone with you and you can’t even do anything about it. You don’t even know what would you say…you don’t even know, if you are even capable of ever voicing your words out loud.
You don’t know if it is just you again, who feels the tension in the room, but you do feel how he suddenly turns his attention to you. You don’t move, his stare piercing through your body in a way that it is almost impossible for you to look back at him. You have no shield, no excuse — you can look at him, you are just not sure if you are capable of normally, without your emotions reflecting in your eyes. However you do see him from the corner of your eye stand up, pushing down his sweatpants that had ridden up his long legs. “Want some?” His voice cuts through the thick air and you can’t do anything, but nervously look up at him to know what he is asking.
In his hand is his now empty water bottle, fingers digging into the plastic little deeper than it is necessary. Your eyes meet his only, because he moves his occupied hand to his face to lightly flick off a small drop of sweat running down his jaw. At that you notice how your closed up throat is screaming in thirst, nodding slowly in plea, too scared to even open your mouth to speak. Jeongin mimicks you, before walking up to the small table in the corner of the room. You wonder why you both not just ignore each other, scrolling away on your phones before everyone gets back — you soak in each other’s presence.
You follow his every move, suddenly so confident with his back turned to you, watching muscles rip under his thin t-shirt. Everything goes slow around you, yet too quick at the same time, body twisting a little, when he turns back to you to give you your water. Your muscles spasm, legs falling down the couch in a sound way too loud in the silence of the room and you can’t help, but cringe at everything you are doing right now. You feel exposed under his eyes, even if he is just looking, even if his stare is always seemingly so nerve racking.
Jeongin stops right in front of you, making your frown disappear from your face so quickly you almost have a whiplash. Right before you is your water bottle, his hand wrapped around it — you go grab it slowly and unsurely. You keep your face straight as best as you can, but how can you, when your hand touches his…the reason you are so miserable. His skin is cold, kissed by the dripping water and you follow it, till it falls off the tip of his finger. You don’t know if you are moving so slow just to not crumble, hand lingering on his second too long that it seems intentional. However his touch — before you can melt into the leather couch any further is gone as his hand falls back to his side.
You feel your heart shatter not just from that, but also because you notice how your hands shake a little as you go to take a sip. The cold water though does nothing too ease your inner thirst, not when he is still standing before you…You swallow a little too hard, carefully glancing at him from beneath your lashes and your lips are left parted at the sight of him towering over you. He was always a bit taller than you, but from this angle you are even more intimidated. When did he move so close? You almost feel the material of his sweatpants grazing over you and you don’t move away from it nor into it — you are completely still, staring at him and he does notice the inner battle reflecting in your eyes. There is no use, you don’t have the strength to fight your emotions right now.
“Something wrong?” He asks you, voice smooth as ever, loud around you. You are completely drowning in his presence alone. Your lips go to press against each other, but your mouth is left open again, when you catch him following the movement. Goosebumps rise on your skin, words getting caught in your throat again, so you just decide to just shake your head, even if you are lying. Everything is wrong — with you and your obsession, kink, to the way he stands before you, talks, moves. How does he do it?
Your eyes travel away from him, just for a second to atleast blink, because it seems you can’t even do that, but then shock fills you. The move so quick and smooth you feel your mouth drying again, when he suddenly takes the water from you. Pathetically you want to chase the feel of his skin again, but you only look up at him in bewilderment. The way his fingers grazed over yours leaves a permanent burning sensation, that sends your stomach spinning. It seemed like he used your disbelief of such act to move closer, because your knee touches his leg briefly, but that isn’t the thing that makes you almost fall into unconsciousness.
It is the way he puts the rim of the bottle against his own lips, tongue sticking out for a moment and you visibly shiver at the thought of it being your lips instead. He takes a long sip of water, some of it rolling down to his chin, neck bobbing again. The way he makes everything look so good, should be illegal. Your mind shatter again, because he is drinking from the same bottle as you — he could have take a new one for himself. You knew how he is, when people get close to him, how he slightly pulls away from an unexpected hug, even if there is a smile on his face. He is definitely not smiling now…he is watching you from behind your water, small breath falling from him as he goes to wipe away the spilled water from his pink lips. “Sorry, thirsty–“ He shrugged, like that move didn’t just make you form into a puddle.
“It’s okay.” You mumble so quietly you don’t even hear yourself. You watch him relax his arms by his sides, also noticing, how he holds to bottle just with his fingers. You don’t know where to look right now, small silence between you two, before he so suddenly smiles down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, nor it does last long as he tilts his head at you.
It was a silent question and you answer it by another wave of silence, not really sure what to do — if you want him to leave or let him get even closer to you. The quiet makes it hard for you to breathe, his presence and stare only intensifying it. You can see his own unspoken words circling in his eyes, yours nonblinking so you wouldn’t seem like a bigger mess than you already are. With his head tilted down at you, the move making your heart skip a beat, his lips form into a small frown. “You are always so quiet, when I am around…Did I do something?” Jeongin sounds sad, eyebrows furrowing lightly and you do nothing, but panic a little.
“No!” You say, voice a little too loud, making heat rush to your cheeks. With your now wide eyes you watch his frown deepen even more and you curse yourself for being like this around him.
“Really?“ He says, pausing a little, features softening, but his eyes hardening. “Then why do you keep looking at me?” You pause, breathing becoming short as you stammer to answer. He is only meaning now — not every day, every moment…You are again lying to yourself, but you have to, otherwise you would probably die on the spot. However the way he said it…no.
“I don’t look at you.” That is the most vile lie you have ever said and you are still looking at him, while you said it. You feel the world closing on to you at the thought of him noticing your nonstop staring — that’s it, you are only allowed to look at him from afar. Admire him, thing you will propably never have, but in some way you do wanted him to notice. In some twisted way, you want him to punish you for it…
Jeongin only hums lowly at your answer, gaze leaving yours, like in deep thought, before he twists his body a little to put the bottle onto the table behind him. Why does it feel like he is waiting? Maybe to see if you will crack? What if he did notice and now he thinks you hate him or something? Your mind is running wild, so distracted that you see him moving in the mirrors surrounding you, way before you feel him.
He humms lowly again, before he goes to sit right next to you, body so close to yours you do a double take to make sure you are seeing right. In the mirror you see him looking at you, feeling the hard glare on the side of your face, but you don’t meet it. You are baffled by everything he did so far — so out of character, so different from the smiley Innie you knew. For a moment think you think, that are dreaming. That you are only imagining his side touching yours, feeling every breath he takes. The small spasm of muscle, when he twists his body to face you a little more. However you see it and feel it, everything is happening so fast you can’t do anything about it yet again. His reflection — the smell of his sweat mixed with his perfume sends you into overdrive and when you see him move his right hand to you…you are left speechless again.
You let him, really you can’t even fight it, because you have been thinking about his hands, his touch every night and every day and now…now his hand comes to put your hair behind your ear. It is the same as before, but now his touch seems to hold a meaning, hand lingering on the side of your face. You let him trace his fingers over your jaw, all the way down to your chin, but he doesn’t make you look at him. You only watch him through the mirror, like you are not ready to face this reality of him touching you so intensely. His hair hides his gaze on your lips, but you do feel it, lips parting in silent gasp as he moves his hand back to your hair. Goosebumps rise on your skin, shivering, when he presses over the skin behind your ear, before you see him leaning closer, hot breath fanning over your ear.
“I know.”
That word…that word makes you freeze in your spot, panic, fear and something more striking you, head snapping to face him. He is close — his nose almost touches yours if you wouldn’t back away in on an instinct. Jeongin’s face is calm, hint of a smile on his lips at your state as your mouth keeps closing and opening. “What-“ You are in denial somehow, only to calm yourself down, but is it even possible with him being so close to you? You watch him remove his hand, with watchful eyes and with that his smile only widens, while you feel a lump forming in your throat. His leg is pressed against yours, reminding you of how close he still is to you and you almost whimper at the confident look you are given — he knows.
“You think, I didn’t notice?” His tone isn’t sharp, but it still does make shame and embarrassment reach you, because you have been caught. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be angry nor disappointed and that makes it all too worst, because he must already know the answer to why exactly you have been watching him. “You stare at me every time I turn away — hoping I won’t catch you, but I always do. So tell me…why and what is it you are looking at?”
You are ashamed. He already knows, but he still wants you to say it. His face is so close to yours, hand on the back of the couch and you know that if you would try to move away he will catch you — there is no way out of this. Though you don’t have the strength to admit yourself yet. “Nothing…” You whisper, head low, while he tilts his again.
“Nothing?” He repeats and now you hear a small hint of dissatisfaction.
“I…I am just looking nothing more, I swear-“ Liar — you are a horrible liar.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
You have never heard such tone leaving his lips before and you wonder if he is turning angry only because you won’t say it. How can you? You have been caught, but it is not like you were subtle about your actions to begin with. You are embarrassed to be acting like that — so desperate and pathetic, but you can’t control your needs and desires. You feel almost on the brink of tears just from how ashamed you are and you want nothing more than to run and hide, so you do. However you are only quick enough to sit up, hands immediately finding you, pressing you back into the couch and you do gasp out loud at that.
He doesn’t remove his hands from your upper arms, hold strong enough for you to see there is no use trying to escape. His fingers dig into you hard, but it is everything, but painful. You are forced to meet his gaze again and you quiver at the glare he sends you. “Talk, Y/N — can you even do that?” Jeongin leans closer to you, making your back press into the cushion, while he almost hovers over your body.
You don’t know what to do — cry, scream? In embarrassment, pain, but mainly relief, because seeing him like this leaning over your body sends shivers down your spine. “I am sorry–“ You whisper, gasping lightly, when he suddenly releases you from one of his hands to press against the spot next to your head, leather squeaking under his weight.
“Sorry for what exactly?” You almost shake your head, because you don’t particularly know the answer. You are sorry for everything, yet not, because your actions leaded to this. You don’t take your eyes off each other, chests rising so wildly they almost meet. Something then flickers in his eyes, features softening just for you to notice the change. “Sorry, that you don’t talk to me like you do to others?” You blink at the change of tone a little, his words striking small confusion, but you are no fool — he is being manipulative and it is working.
“I was trying to be…respectful.” That word sits heavy on your tongue.
“Respectful…” He repeats after you again. You let him turn you into nothing by a mess beneath his hands, melting at the way his hand travels up your arm. “You and I both know there is nothing respectful between us–“ Your state — wide eyes, lips parted, skin heated — your state makes him melt a little too.
“Us?”
Jeongin is shaking on the inside, because he knew — he wanted you to say it so bad, his grip tightens over your collarbones, thumb pressing into the bone. “Tell me, Y/N. Why are ypu acting so different around me — and don’t tell me you were only looking. I can see you mouthing the words…what do you want?“ It’s a demand, perhaps a plea for you to stop acting innocent.
“I don’t–“
He tsks at you, frown falling over his face, growing frustrated. “Why are you so scared…Did I do something to upset you?” Jeongin says, quietly, sounding so sincere, you stutter.
“No!” It comes out broken, ending in a pathetic whine. You can’t breathe, because it would make you breathe him in too. You realize your state at that…You can’t hide any longer, there was no use even at the start of this. “It’s me…” You confess, not fully, but he sees the way the invisible shield before you crack enough for him to press against you more.
Your legs are pushing against each other, his hand griping on to the cushion next to your head, while the other slides over your arm back again. You watch his eyes turn dark, making you tremble beneath him. Jeongin’s breath mixes with yours, gaze piercing through yours, till it suddenly drifts to your mouth. “Then tell — tell me, what you want and I will give it to you.” His words are like honey, but you hear something, that makes you choke…desperation.
“I can’t–“ You can’t move, breathe, but you do feel him and it is becoming absolutely intoxicating.
“But you do want to–“ His eyes meet yours again, small silence falling between you after that. You don’t answer, because it is so obvious — you need it, want it, you are just not sure if you can handle it. Your body battles with your mind as his hand comes to caress the side of your neck. You whimper, the sound so loud in the silence and so raw you have to close your eyes. His fingers tickle you and your breath turns into gasp, when you feel him blowing air on to the thin skin of your neck. That sound sends sparks of pleasure up his spine. You are too into everything to notice the slight shake in his movements, while his next words bounce off your skin. “Do you want me is that it? Or do you just want my hands?”
You don’t recognize him, he is completely dripping in sin and you are eating every last bit of it. With his lips so close to your skin, your eyes flew back open, staring behind him at the reflection of you two. “I…I want–“ You are speechless, watching him pull away a little to meet your gaze again, heart hammering against your chest as he puts his hands around your back to pull you closer. “I want everything.”
“Then take it.”
You pull your hands away from your chest to press them against his instead, gasping lightly when you feel his heart. “Please–“ Your hands grasp at his t-shirt, making it slide down his chest a little and your simple plea makes him snap.
Jeongin knew — he knew from the beginning. How your lips fell apart every time he would look at you. How your body stilled, every time he was near you and how you stared at his hands and everything he does with them. He firstly thought he was imagining it, thinking maybe, that you are too shy to approach someone new to talk to them, but he quickly realized it — you didn’t want to just talk, you wanted something more, him. The idea corrupted him, the idea of his friend’s best friend being so smitten by him to the point you would fall down to your knees the second he would touch you. Like now — pulling you closer to his heated body, eyes falling to your lips, that were always so delicious to look at. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to grasp the opportunity to finally talk to you, to feel you. He finally has you, where he wants and he wonders, what would Felix think about the way you are acting like now. So desperate, so his…
The racing thought, the realization that maybe somebody might walk in and caught you two in the act is something he never knew he wanted. His tongue swipes across his lips, mouth so close to yours now, that you feel it grazing you, your small gasp for air being then swallowed by his hungry mouth. It’s hard, all so knowingly desperate and he drinks your small sighs of pleasure with greediness. The feel of his lips finally on yours makes you delirious, letting your body fall onto his, lips pushing harshly against his. It is all spit, tongue and teeth, everything, but sweet, making your mixed drool roll down your chins. His hands roam then, sliding up your back, then down to your hips, before one of them tangles in your hair.
You cry out sharply, when you feel him tug at your roots, head rolling back, the new exposed flesh being immediately warmed by his mouth. Jeongin doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, running his lips over you — licking, sucking, nibbling and you let him take it all. “Finally you have said it–“ He mumbles across your skin, groaning into you. “If only you had said it sooner.”
“Jeongin–“ You yelp, when he suddenly bites the side of your neck, the pain quickly melting into pleasure. You panic, suddenly realizing your position and situation — the others can be back at any given moment, you know nothing about how far away they are and also their is a possibility of someone roaming around the building, even at this late hour. If someone wrong sees you, it would get you two into big trouble. However his kisses, touches quickly pull you out of your racing thoughts.
You trust him maybe more than you should, considering that you can feel the slight sting at the side of your neck. The small appearing mark doesn’t seem to stop him, it is completely the opposite. His hand finds the back of your neck, too weak to fight him, making him twist you to his liking. Jeongin licks a long straight line up your neck, before blowing cold air, sending shivers down your spine. You are already shaking, legs pushing against each other a little harder, smearing your already leaking juices. The action is not missed, hands falling to your thighs, pinching at your flesh. You are hot — sweat dripping down the side of your face, breathing fast. His mouth then meets yours again, in a kiss so sweet you can’t help, but whimper.
“Been thinking about your mouth for so long.” The confession makes you fist his t-shirt harder, almost ripping it. You feel yourself clenching over nothing, legs pressing against each other, his hands only increasing the pleasure.
Jeongin pokes his cheek with his tongue, breathing heavily through his nose as he leans away to look at you. Just your look — just your slick, puffy lips and glossy eyes make his cock twitch. The thought of you being so open for him like this, so trusting, is something that maybe he wants to show off. You are a problem…sweet, delicious, addicting, making him act like this, but it seems you are too drunk to even notice the effect you have on him. His fingers tug lightly at the material of your sweatpants, feeling the heat of your skin even through the layers of clothing. He watched you too — he thought about you and how you would look…Under him, on top of him, gasping, whimpering, pleading for more and more, till you are left crying in pleasure and overstimulation. He wondered how you would taste like. How you would sound like, when he would suck at your clit just right — he thought about your mouth and how it would be like to kiss you. How you would wrap your lips around his skin, his cock…His eyes then flicker to the closed doors briefly. He wanted you — all of you, but not right now. However he will give you exactly, what you want and need.
You are left puzzled for a moment, when he suddenly pulls away from you, feet hitting the floor. He sits back, lifting his lower half a little and at that you notice the outline of his cock pressing against his sweats. You bite your lip at the prominent outline of him, watching him spread his legs wider, before he lightly taps his thighs. “Come here–“ He says, leaning back onto the couch. Your desperation makes you not skip a beat, all shame leaving the room from seeing him worked up just like you are. You sit up, crawling your way up to him, but before you can sit, his hands find your hips. “No, like this.” His strength surprises you, letting him turn you around so your back faces him, lifting you up to sit you on his lap. You feel it — his chest rising under you, his breath on the side of your neck as he pushes your hair to the side, his cock pressing right against your ass as you come to sit between his open thighs. His lips find your skin straight away, hands running over your legs and you gasp lightly, when you suddenly lift your gaze to the mirrors infront of you, only finding him watching you the whole time. “I want you to see–“ Jeongin watches your eyes trace over his hands that lightly tweak at your thighs. “What exactly were you imagining?”
He wants you to say it, even if he knows it, even if he feels you shaking under his hands. Your eyes briefly close to savor the feeling, twitching on his lap, making you press your backside harder to his cock. You feel him chasing the feeling, hips lifting you up a little to make you bounce one more time. It makes you gush even more, legs opening and closing, trying to ease the ache between your legs. You are in haze, completely drunk of him and you don’t care about anything but his touch anymore. “Your hands on me…” You say, the confession making his hands stop at the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers grazing over your exposed skin.
His lips press against your skin, biting down a little, making you feel the smile on his face, before you even see it. The sight is so dirty — so everything, captivated by how his hand extends over your lower stomach. “Where?” Jeongin is teasing, getting off your frustration, watching a sweet frown fall on your face .
“Please, just–“ You move around on his lap, the another graze of your bottom half across his cock, making him hiss lightly, before you see him putting one of his hands back in your hair.
Jeongin tugs lightly, your head tilting to your shoulder, meeting his wild gaze in the mirror. “I can give you what you want, you just have to ask nicely.” You whine at that, few tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, glimmering in the soft light in the room.
You are done fighting against the last bits of your self respect, cunt clenching again, when his fingers on you travel lower, till you feel them dipping under your sweats. “Jeongin — I want your fingers, please–“ There is no time to waste if he wants to give you what you want and your sweet voice echoes around him like a siren.
He turns to look down at you, tugging your head so it faces his and he curses at the pout you give him. Your lashes are wet, bottom lip quivering and that action makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck–“ He kisses you again, briefly yet messily, moaning with you as his tongue rolls against yours, before he pushes away again, small string of saliva connecting you two. Both of his hands find your waist again, rolling the soft material between his fingers, tugging a little. “Take these off.” Your skips a beat at his words, shaking hands finding his.
You pull your sweatpants off, with his help, lifting yourself up a little and as you kick them off your legs, sitting back again, the feel of his cock is much more intense than before. You gasp as he moves a little so he is right between your cheeks, eyes opening wide at the sheer size of him. Your eyes then meet his again, but now in the mirror, following his line of sight to the dark, wet spot on your underwear. “Look–“ You already are — watching him and his hands traveling down your legs, the feeling making you press against him even more.
His hands are hot and heavy, gripping at the meat of your thighs, when you just a little bit close them at the sight of your juices coating your skin. Your smell is intoxicating, the feel of you trembling just as his finger dips lightly inside your thighs is addicting. Jeongin is staring straight on the wet spot infront of your black panties, low light hitting your slick skin just right. You jerk at the first ever touch of his fingers — they press against you, right over your puffy clit, the small move more than enough to make you moan. “Fuck, you are dripping–“ You whimper in response, looking down at how his fingers are getting coated with your juices.
“More–“ You say, already loosing your mind at how his fingers just keep pressing and not moving. Your hole clenches at the thought his fingers dipping into you. Even though if your tone is whiny, borderline desperate he takes it in a way that makes him snap a little.
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, with my fingers?” You are still having a whiplash from his sudden change of behavior, but you only lean more into it. You nod wildly, head turning to look at him, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, because you suddenly feel him tugging at the flimsy material of your underwear. He pulls them to the side, making them snap a little when he releases them. Cold air kisses your slick cunt then, you shivering lightly, shaking, when his fingers just barely graze over you. You don’t even have time too look down, mind to hazy from the quick touch. You don’t even look, when one of his hands come to grip at the side of your neck — not when his other, coated with your juices comes to press against your lips.
“Open.”
Your lips fall apart in a gasp, making it for him all too easier to shove his two fingers inside your mouth, pressing them down at your tongue. Your mouth wraps around his digits instantly, sucking lightly the taste of your sweetness inside your mouth. But then you look — you see how his own eyes gloss over, mouth opening as you lightly bite down at the tips of his fingers. The look you give him makes his other hand travel to the front of your throat, making a loud sound escape you, when he suddenly rips his hand away from your lips, maneuvering your head back to face your reflection as he finally moves to touch you.
His already used hand comes to cup you, his palm digging into you, smearing your wetness all over your skin and his hand. “Soaked–“ Jeongin groans with you, hand on your throat squeezing a little and he can feel how that action makes your clit twitch under his fingers. Small, precise circles are made, him expertly moving the hood of your clit away to touch you more deeply — it is even better than you imagined. He is so mean about it too…Pressing you against his chest, with his hand on your throat, making you watch yourself in the mirror, while he plays with you. His rolls your bud between his fingers, pinching it lightly, the small pain just a low, addicting buzz. Your stomach twists, body burning and jerking over his cock, that he keeps pushing into you.
Your breathing is fast, matching his, eyes on yours reflection instead of looking down and the sight makes your stomach flip. It almost feels forbidden — you feel more exposed. Jeongin swipes his fingers over you, extending them to get every inch of you touched. He traces over your slit, each time his fingers dipping lower and lower, watching you clench over nothing. You feel blood rushing to your face, little bit self conscious of being in such exposing position and him still being clothed, while you are spread wide open, but everything is way too good to say anything about it. “So wet, that I could slide right in–“ You gasp when his ring and middle finger slide lower.
“Please — I want it–“ You keep repeating it, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder, but you only receive a tight squeeze to your throat.
“Then look.” You do — him helping you look back at your reflection, just as his fingers dig deeper into you. There is no resistance, you are so wet you can feel yourself dripping down on the couch. You twitch a little at the sensation, mind swirling. His long fingers slide inside you quick, too quick for you to breathe through it. However only your body knows its limits and you are not even surprised that you only suck them right in.
Jeongin is losing his mind over, how your velvety walls keep closing onto him — so soft and slippery. The thought of him sliding inside you instead is great, hips lifting both of your bodies in hopes he would get closer to your cunt, only making his fingers go deeper in you. You whimper, eyes almost closing at the way the tips of his fingers reach your cervix, palm of his hand grazing over your clit. His other fingers then hook around you, wrist twisting, before he starts to scissor his fingers inside you, searching. “You have touched yourself to this?” He mumbles lowly, lips against your neck. “You wanted this for so long, that you imagined it every time I would just barely touch you–“ No question — he knows.
“Wonder if I can make you squirt–“
A cry leaves you, when he suddenly at that curls his fingers inside you, palm moving against your clit. The idea of you doing that is unfamiliar. You have never done that, you have never even been close to it, but the way his fingers reach so easily to the one gummy spot inside you, tells you he might be able to do it way to easily. “Don’t stop — Jeongin-“ You moan his name, when he starts to trust his fingers inside you, curling them up each time they slide into you.
“You are…so–“ He is a little lost for words. The way your body reacts to his touch — hips lifting to chase his touch, your nails digging into his hand still holding your throat, though not clawing at it for him to stop — your other holding his, that keeps thrusting into you…He is drooling. Wet, nasty sounds fill the room, his fingers increasing on speed, but now more pushing against you so his palms keeps hitting your clit. You are moaning, gasping, music to his ears, however even if he knows that no one can hear you inside this room, he also knows that when you would go close enough to the door you could probably hear the filthy noises coming from you both.
Jeongin’s hand on your throat leaves you, making you gulp in air, but your mouth is only able to take in few breaths, before his hands clasps it. “Shhhh— you don’t want them to hear, right?” Your eyes widen at that, loud moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as you wildly shake your head. “Huh…still I bet you would like that–“ His words makes you clench down on his fingers, tips of them now just curling inside you, palm moving against you.
You are way too easy — you already feel you lower tummy rumbling in the way too familiar pleasure, moaning against his hand as he moves his other to push his thumb against you. You are starting be aware of everything around you — from the way he keeps whispering sweet, nasty nothings into your ear, hot air blowing against your skin. How he moans every time your hips press against his, how you both look like nothing, but sin in the mirror — where are you and what are you doing right now, knowing your friends might be back any minute. Your wildest dreams coming true — him fucking you with his delicious fingers, feeling every vein pressing against you…is all too much for your body to handle.
Then with one particular push of his thumb against your clit, fingers not losing any rhythm, scissoring, curling, you slide a little down on the couch. Your leaking cunt and sweat is making it too easy for you to slide off, but then his hand on your mouth comes to catch you before you could run away from the immense pleasure. He tsks again at your doings, small breath, like a laugh, leaving him, hand grasping your thigh, before hooking it around his. That only makes his fingers go deeper into you, hitting your cervix each time. You are huffing, choking to get air back inside your lungs as you start to shake around him.
Jeongin notices your change way too quickly, turning his head from your reflection to your tear stained face. “Gonna cum, baby?” The nickname makes you whimper pathetically, eyes barely open, but they don’t leave the mirror in fear he would stop. “You don’t even know, how much better I can fuck you, with my cock–“ Your breath hitches, pleading for him not to stop talking, his words just pushing you more and more to the edge. You have never knew, only dreamed about him talking to you like this — the words, even so unexpected, making you run hot, seemingly coming off way more natural than you would have thought.
You are shaking harshly, feeling heat washing over you, mewling at the way he keeps the delicious pace. Your head rolls to the side, teary eyes meeting his and he almost coos at the way you are having such a hard time to keep them open. Your legs keep closing, but he doesn’t let you move away, hand digging into your thigh so deep you know it will mark — and he does want to mark you with purpose, even though he decided that he would probably never let anyone get close enough to see it…though the mark on your neck says otherwise. You feel it — the burn inside you, the way your body keeps chasing the pleasure, face screwing up, mouth open and slick, droll running down your face.
“Fuck – I’m gonna–“ You start to breathe in series of gasps, gaze shooting back to the mirror and then back to him again.
With your sharp moan, Jeongin kisses you again, deep groan leaving the deepest part of his chest as he feels your body stilling. Your vision turns white, your ears ring, head rolling back in ecstasy as your hands fly to grasps his arm to ground your self. The orgasm is so strong it leaves you voiceless, silent scream leaving you, but then…it doesn’t stop — he doesn’t stop. His hand moves, but only so it doesn’t touch your twitching clit, only to start trusting his fingers inside you again with a movement so fast your cry rings in the room. “What are you – Oh, fuck!” You can’t see, your vision is blurry, eyes though still being capable to follow his line of sight.
Jeongin is breathing harshly, tongue poking out of his mouth, watching his fingers disappear inside you. He holds you down the best he can, moaning when he suddenly hears the wet sounds coming from your cunt. Your juices start to splash, your still hot cum leaking out of you and drooling down the couch and you panic at the foreign feeling bubbling inside you. It is too fast, too much — you try to warn him, run away from the intense feeling, but you are too weak to do anything other than tremble on top of him. You are overwhelmed, overstimulation high and you scream as the feeling comes over you. “Come on, just one more — do it, soak my fucking hand–” He silences you for your own good, fingers pushing inside your mouth again to quiet down the loud cry, as the feeling you were trying so hard to hold back wins over.
Before your eyes close, you see yourself squirt around his hand, your juices reaching all the way to the ground and table before you, making you scream in small horror and euphoria. You have never felt something so intense, something so pleasurable that it made you cry. Your body arches off his and Jeongin in his state of awe lets your legs fall shut, his hand still working you up. Everything is a blur for while for you, shaking and quivering, feeling your slick pooling on the couch under you. “Oh, my-“ His hand stills at your small whimper of overstimulation, fingers slowly sliding out of you and he has to push your legs apart to even free his hand.
Jeongin is marveled by the sight before him, eyes drifting over your reflection to you. You are covered in thin sheen of sweat, skin blooming under his touch and he has to stop himself from not going back to give you more. You are spent — done, you almost can’t even move, body slumped weakly against his. His eyes then drift back between your legs, that are finally moving apart, muscles spasming in your legs and exposed tummy. You have soaked everything — your legs, the couch, even the table before you and Jeongin has to bite back a groan at that. He watches you breathe through it, small whimpers still reaching his also ringing ears, however he then decides to lift you off his lap.
You moan in small protest, blinking away your now dried tears, while he stands to grasp the small box of tissues off the marked table. “Here-“ Still a gentleman, even after turning you into a complete mush. He is gentle now, atleast when he goes to wipe away your juices from your body for you, seeing you are too weak to even do it yourself. Your eyes trail over him, watching his eyes clear a little, but there is still that spark, still the reminder of what he did to you just now. You then look down to his still covered cock — he must have adjusted himself, when you weren’t looking, because you can only see just a small imprint of him. The tissues are little too harsh on your sensitive skin, jumping a little at the sensation, but his hand, now softly laying on your naked thigh, calms you.
You are sticky all over, the room hot from the thing you have done, but there is no shame now. Something about the way he cleans you so softly, touch so featherely, eyes bright, you realize that maybe there is something more about to it, then just lust. Though you could not think about it too long, because the silence between you is interrupted, when a loud sound of nearby voices is heard flowing down the hall. “Shit-“ Your eyes widened, scrambling away from him, just as he puts your underwear back over you and you do ignore how it stick to you like a second skin. You don’t look at him, too occupied of grabbing your sweatpants off the floor to notice his lingering stare. You push them up, just as you hear the voices of your friends right outside the door, eyes widening then, when you look to the wet spot next to you. No time to think — your hands push down your wild, messed up hair, pulling them forward, fingers grazing over the sensitive spot on the side of your neck, wiping away the loose spit coating your mouth, before the door opens.
“Hey.” You say, voice scratchy, coughing instantly and you can’t help, but cringe.
The others fill the room, each carrying bags of food that hopefully hides the smell of sex in the room. Your eyes meet Felix’s, who stumbles in last, whose smile still sits on his face, but then gives you a small look of confusion at your tone. “Hey? We brought you something–“ He beams a little as he nears you, while the others come to put the food on the table that thankfully wasn’t the one before you.
The wet spot is hot beside you, a burning reminder of a still fresh memory and you really have hard time to meet the eyes of your best friend at that. “Oh…that’s nice.” You say, eyes drifting away a little, when he suddenly comes to stand before you, eyes full of worry, while yours full of shame and you feel you sick of lying to him.
“Everything good?” He asks you like the sweet friend he is, but his close proximity makes you quiver a little, but you do try to keep the smile on your face, even though you still feel the ghost of his friend’s inside you.
“Yeah-“
“Hey, why is there–“
Your heart stops, head snapping to Hyunjin, who points to the spot next to you, before drifting all the way to the floor and table, while the others come to stand around him. Your mouth opens like a fish, mind crashing to scramble to answer atleast something, when everyone turns to look, but then a voice cuts in to safe you. “Oh, I just spilled some water.” Says Jeongin and no one other than you hears the small tone at the end of his sentence.
Everyone thankfully doesn’t say anything else, but you still don’t meet their eyes, heart beating fast, when you lean over to grab the box of tissues, eyes immediately falling on the rolled up ball of used ones, sitting right on top of the still wet, glass table. “I will clean it.” You say, immediately pulling out multiple of tissues to press them against the wet spot next to you. The light and your shadow thankfully hides the true substance of the liquid and how it slides over the leather.
“Okay, we will just eat on the floor, I guess.” Says someone, you don’t even care who, you only care that Felix and the others go away a little to let you drown in your own embarrassment. You will probably never let anyone sit on the spot ever again — in a twisted, sick way you have now marked it as yours. The rooms fills with chatter and laughter again, plastic bags rustling in the silent panic you are experiencing, before pair of piercing eyes, makes you look up.
Jeongin stares at you, with a teasing glint in his eyes, that only you catch. And then — right then, he puts the exact same fingers that have been inside you into his mouth, tongue swiping across his digits, before he bites down on the tips of his fingers — a move that only highlights the crazed smile grazing his lips and by that, you already know you are in for a wild ride.
hi sian, how are you? i hope everything going well but i wanted to ask if you have an eta on when you can post the jeongin and chan fratboy series i keep reading thats same one and its making me so excited
hi, sorry i kept forgetting to post this so its been in my drafts 🤦🏽♀️
i havent had any motivation to do anything so i dont have an exact eta, but im not gonna post any of them until everything is completed,,, lol
i have an idea of when i can finish but i dont want to make any promises that i cant keep. if i had to put it into numbers i'd say im a little above 30% done atm lmao
hi! by any chance do you (or any followers) know that one txt fix where the reader is under the table while they’re playing a game and they have to guess who’s she’s giving a blowjob?
it sounds familiar but nothing comes to mind
i’ll keep an eye on my inbox in case any anons have an idea?
hey, im that last anon. I'm sorry too, for being aggressive, i was in fact really pissed (not at you) because this has been happening so often now, accusations like these to people who just realy dont deserve it, you know? and many writers were leaving already because how it feels like their work isnt getting any traction because of it all going to people with quicker uploads, just because they use AI as "a tool" for writing. it's not. if you're not writing, you're not, that's it. so now people here are becoming more aware of that, and you think that'd be a good thing, attention would go to where it deserves, but no. instead, genuine writers are leaving because if continued accusations that their writing is stripped if AI. which would hurt, you know? of course you do, you've been a writer yourself. i think that's part of why i got pissed really. and i dont mind people who put content here to leave these communities, at all, we all have a life of course (like you, which i realize, im sorry). but its just that there are some creators who enjoy doing this, sharing their thoughts and works and interacting with people here. so its a shame when people easily take away the fun of it for others. really sucks.
my only point was that its a pretty hurtful accusation and its happening more and more often, directed to the wrong people.
anyways, im sorry, i really didnt mean to come off as aggressive as i did. its totally normal for someone not to be in the loop, it's what's normal, actually lol. take care of yourself, and your toddler, wishing you both lot's of peace and security. <33
also i wrote this out in my notes before i saw she deactivated but im just sending it now, so yeah, we lost another one, sadly :(
the last part was cute lol thank you ❤️ i appreciate the apology, i figured thats what you were upset about anyways so no hard feelings
its unfortunate they deactivated though :/ but being any sort of creator isnt exactly easy, especially considering ai is taking over the world lol so i cant even blame them
what do we think about the situation where jilix are mean and performing pussy job on you from the back and the front… kinda kissing tips…
i just wanna be sandwiched between them so bad
"c'mere," felix growls, pulling your face to his with a hand clasped behind your neck. your lips clash in a messy kiss — more teeth than tongue, his mouth swallowing your surprised gasp. his grip on your neck is possessive, almost too strong, jolting you forward and nearly crashing you into his chest.
behind you, jisung steadies your hips, stifling his own moans by biting down on felix's arm, your shoulder, any inch of bare skin he can reach. "f-fuck, i c-can't take it much longer..."
he leans back and watches felix's cock slip between your legs. the inside of your thighs are hot and slippery and jisung thinks he might explode on the spot when felix's velvety tip rubs against his own. he humps mindlessly against your ass, the sweet glide of your pussy and felix's veiny cock against his making him delirious with need. jisung has no idea how much time has passed since your bodies slotted together like this. fifteen minutes? an hour? four hours? with each passing second his brain shuts down further until there's nothing left but the urge to slip inside, to bend you over, to fuck you like you've been begging them to.
felix has started moaning again: low panting grunts quieted by your kiss. they're a shrill contrast to jisung's own high-pitched, whiny whimpers. he wishes he was the one swallowing your boyfriend's moans right now.
something in him snaps. he angles your hips and then, in one smooth motion, sinks his cock inside.
you cry into felix's mouth, taken aback by the sudden stretch — jisung's thick length forcing past your walls inch by inch, his hands keeping you in place as if you had anywhere to go with their bodies pressed flush against yours.
"'s too big," you falter and claw at felix's shoulders.
"is it now, baby?" he coos. "that's what you get for being such a fucking tease, walking around in those skimpy skirts whenever ji comes over."
then his hand is in your hair, pushing you down while jisung drags your body back to make space for felix. in doing so he buries himself impossibly deeper and you moan, tears pooling in the corners of your eye from felix's punishing grasp on your hair. he tugs at it for good measure, bending your neck back so he can shove his cock between your lips.
"c'mon, angel. show jisung what a good little slut you are."
I feel like you could've done a little more checking yourself before basically affirming that anon about dakusan being "ripped of from AI". it's really not fair, and the thing is now anyone looking at your page who might not look at the comments of that post will be mislead. could at least take the post down? thank you.
you are right but also i unfortunately do not have the time of day anymore to research stuff about random people from social media- unless you plan on finishing my degree for me and raising the toddler that i have to raise so that i can do these things?
ill take it down since you asked and im sorry that i upset you over it, but i dont even log on here more than once or twice a week so its only natural im gonna be out of the loop and rely on my anons
Two things that rile the boys up in bed, and one thing that makes them want to get you in bed…
Hyung Line / Maknae Line (coming soon)
word count: 1.3k
warnings: SMUT, fem!reader intended, minors or ageless blogs don’t interact– the following warnings belong to their respective member: praise, BDSM themes (barely), established relationships, throwing you around (lol), hyunjin being a romantic, hair pulling.
Chan is a sweetheart, especially to you. His biggest joy is to whisper sweet nothings into your ear while thrusting up into you, feeling you squeeze him at every sweet word and compliment. Don’t be fooled– his words are filthy. He’ll kiss up and down your neck and whisper, “You’re taking me so well… you’re just sucking me in, yeah?” in between kisses. It’s dirty and explicit, but you eat up every word because you know what? You are taking him so well. And you are greedy for more.
Lingerie
This seems like a given, but one of Chan’s favorite things to do is to spoil you. So when you pick out a pretty, lacy, white set from Victoria’s Secret, he’s quick to press his card to the card machine. He knows the set won’t last long, and he buys it anyway. He buys it to watch you twirl around in your bedroom while he sits on the bed, legs spread, already half hard. He buys it to thread his fingers through the delicate lace to slide them down your legs, unwrapping the prettiest present he could ask for.
Jealousy
One of the worst parts about having a sexy ass boyfriend is that other people will find him attractive too. So when you catch a glimpse of a worker standing too close and looking up at him with flirty eyes, your eyes immediately narrow. It’s not about Chan, it never is, but she needs to know he’s spoken for. So, when you walk over and hook your arm in his, standing between him and the worker and pulling him away to show him an imaginary pair of jeans, Chan is more desperately attracted to you than ever. He wants to drag you into the nearest bathroom and have his way with you as soon as possible. He just loves being yours. <3
What a surprise… but the sweet-looking lips of a seemingly innocent Minho will humiliate you into submission with just a sentence. It’s not name-calling, no, it’s dominance, easy possession with just a few words. When you’re getting mouthy or being irritating on purpose in public, he’s quick to pull you in by your waist and growl a low, “Just wait till we get home.” Your reaction is to quiet down to try to lessen your punishment, but Minho never forgets. The moment you enter the door to your shared apartments, it's quiet gazes and a steady, “On your knees, jagiya.” And you obey, because there’s nothing more thrilling than his smooth control.
*Above is a mild example, but there have been times when you’ve been bent over his lap with handprints on your ass as proof of your misbehavior.
Easy Access
Early on in your relationship, you learned not to wear underwear in the house. Minho’s favorite way to have you is over the nearest surface with a flipped-up miniskirt or a t-shirt pushed up past your tits. The knowledge that you have no desire to stop him from initiating at any time gets him so riled up that you probably have sex way more than the average couple. You aren’t complaining, the man has his preferences. But yeah, y’all are out-freaking each other constantly.
Domesticity
Minho’s weakness is seeing you in the kitchen making breakfast or playing with the cats. You look like you belong there, and he can never ignore it. You look so soft, and the desire to make you his forever overwhelms him with a feeling he can’t properly explain. He’s quick to wrap his arms around you from behind, laying his head on your shoulder. Don’t get comfortable, you’ll be over the counter soon with the bacon burning in the pan.
He has muscles and he’s proud of them! Those nights in the gym aren’t for nothing, especially with his busy schedule. He has them so he can throw you over his shoulder like nothing and throw you on your shared bed. He has them so he can pull you into any position at light speed. He has them so he can hold you up against the wall as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. He’s proud of how big he’s gotten, and he wants to prove to you that he’s a strong protector more than anything.
Praise (Receiving)
That being said, as beefy and beautiful as he is, he really wants to hear you tell him he’s doing well. Not only is your pleasure so important to him, but he finds that his dick twitches when you tell him that he’s all you need. You could whisper a small, “Always know how to love me right,” in his ear, and he’s unravelling like twine. One sweet word and he’s pulling out of you, letting out a long, low grunt as he spills all over you. You really know how to get him going, huh?
Distance
He can be away from home on tour for months at a time, leaving you to tend to yourself and your needs without him. This leads to a lot of late-night calls, whispering and whining about how much you need him and his hands all over you. Changbin hates being away from you for so long, but he can’t deny the adrenaline of getting home to you and having you for the first time in months. It’s so intimate and hot to him that he confines you to bed most nights the week he gets back from tour. Distance brings good dick, or however the saying goes.
Hyunjin is the type of lover to treat you delicately, laying you down on the soft bed, undressing you with sweet kisses pressed to your skin between pieces of clothing. When he’s done, he likes to pepper kisses everywhere, your collarbones, stomach, down to your thighs. His hands are warm and gentle as he spreads your legs slowly. He’s addicted to the way you whimper when cold air hits your warm center, but he’s quick to comfort you by pressing a flat-tongued stripe up your folds and closing his lips around your quivering clit to gently suckle there. He knows how to use his tongue and will never hesitate to do so.
Hair Pulling
You mourned the loss of his hair when he buzzed it. You couldn’t deny that he looked irresistible with it, but you missed the feeling of grabbing a handful of hair to pull on. You liked it because it grounded you, but Hyunjin fucking loved the feeling of it. The prickly pain of you pulling his head back gets him so turned on that the first time you did it, he busted on the spot. Nothing else has ever made him react like that. You learned that your sweet Hyunjin enjoyed a little pain, and even submitted a little bit. But now that it’s buzzed, you have nothing to grab at. Good thing it’s growing out…
Rambling
You have always underestimated how much Hyunjin loved your voice. When you speak about your interests or rant about your love for his art and dancing, he can’t stop the way his breathing gets heavy and his eyes start tracing your face and body. It’s the genuine excitement in your voice and the love you have for him that makes him emotional– and horny. He would have you right there on the couch during wine night if he could. (Spoiler alert: he did.)
pairing : bangchan x fem!reader | 640 w.
genre : smut [18+]
warnings: oral sex, other boys present but they don't know it's happening
"You said 'In five minutes' five minutes ago, hyung. Please," Felix's voice is pleading from where he stands in Chan's bedroom doorway. He'd come over to the apartment just to play game with him and Jeongin - and the eldest was being stubborn and refusing to pull away from his work.
Sat at his desk, one leg bouncing and his hands typing idly at his laptop keyboard, Chan spares Felix a small glance. It's hesitant and he sighs out the moment his eyes lay on the younger who looks desperate for some gaming time. "I said, five minutes, Felix."
"Hyung, you've been working for at least the last few hours. Can't you just take a thirty minute break?"
Jeongin's voice is soft as he peeks in over Felix's shoulder. The two younger men stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame and peering in at the oldest who still refuses to budge; Hunched over his desk, posture so bad it makes Felix's back ache just looking at him. At least he looks somewhat comfortable in his big 'ol hoodie and sweats that drape off him like curtains they're so big.
Chan's hands curl against his keyboard. His breathing falters for just a moment and he sucks his lower lip into his mouth as if he's thinking it over. The corner of his lips is caught between his teeth, breath hitching once more before he finally gives them an answer.
"Five more minutes and then I promise, I'll be done."
Felix's eyes roll but he gives a small smile. It wasn't unlike Chan to want to wrap up his work before he left it - unlike Jisung who could just up and dip whenever he wanted without worrying about his files.
"Okay, okay! Five minutes and then we crush him in Mario Kart." Felix's fingers curl in Jeongin's shirt, gently tugging to get him to follow. The youngest trails behind his hyung, giggling under his breath at the way they'd gotten Chan to give in - Somewhat. At least he promised this time; Only five more minutes.
But Chan didn't really need that whole five minutes.
Because he was already filling your throat full of his cum.
His hands flexed against the polished wood of his desk, pinkie knocking into his mouse as he looks down at his lap. He leans back in his chair for the first time, the action causing his cock to slip out of your mouth slowly. You pull back just enough to look up at him, his cum dripping from your lips to streak down your chin.
"There's my girl." Your boyfriend coos, his hand pressing over your cheek. His thumb glides across your lower lip, wiping your mouth clean with a soft smile before his teeth sink into his own bottom lip. Seeing you like this - eyes teary from being held down on his cock when he leaned over to hide you from the boys earlier, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from sucking him off. The way spit clings around your mouth because you'd been choking and drooling all over him while he sat in your throat.
Chan sighs out, his head slowly tipping to the side as he watches you gasp for breath. "God, you're going to be the death of me." His thumb slides further into your mouth, gently pushing down on your tongue to watch spit pool around it - dripping out and onto his cock.
His eyes dart down, watching himself twitch and ache for more. You peek down as well and whimper, tipping your head to rest your cheek against his thigh. His free hand dips down to push at his sweats - tugging them just a little lower so you can have a better look as if you weren't just choking on it.
"Alright," Chan's gaze wanders back to the bedroom doorway. He sucks in a breath, slow and drawn out as he hums low in his chest. "Maybe a little more than five minutes."
Tags: smut, enemies to lovers, sexting, nudes, public groping, size kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), Dom Changbin, rough sex, breeding kink, soft aftercare
Word count: 4.7k
Summary: A drunk dare. One obscene nude you should’ve deleted months ago. You send it to the loudmouth classmate you hate most—Changbin. What you don’t expect? His filthy response. Or how fast it spirals into late-night thirst traps, voice notes, and him promising to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk.
This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
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You didn’t even want to go out that night.
It had been one of those weeks—back-to-back deadlines, sleepless nights, and that argument with Changbin during Tuesday’s group presentation that had left you pacing your room afterward, teeth clenched, cheeks hot.
He was too much.
Too loud. Too confident. Too all over the place.
Every class, every group chat, every hallway you tried to exist in—he was there. Smirking. Teasing. Rolling his eyes at your notes, talking over you during discussions, always finding ways to get under your skin like it was a personal hobby.
But your girls had insisted. “You need a break. You need tequila.”
So you’d gone.
Lip gloss, crop top, shots lined up like soldiers.
By midnight, the living room was a haze of heat and laughter. Someone had started a game of truth or dare with twisted rules. Everyone was half-drunk and full of bad ideas.
You should’ve seen it coming. The moment your turn came and the bottle pointed at you, a few smirks lit up around the circle like a warning.
“Okay,” Layla grinned, “truth or dare?”
You hesitated. Truth was safe. Predictable. But everyone had been choosing it all night, and you’d mocked them for it. Now it was your turn to be bold.
“Dare.”
Layla didn’t hesitate.
“Send a nude to Seo Changbin… or run a full lap around the football field naked. With a suction dildo stuck to your forehead.”
The room howled.
Someone immediately got up to rummage in a drawer. “I have the dildo!”
Your stomach dropped.
You tried to laugh it off, eyes wide. “Are you fucking insane?”
“You’ve got beef with him, right?” someone snorted.
“This is perfect.”
“You’re always bickering, it’ll shake him up.”
It wasn’t the nudity that scared you. It wasn’t even Changbin.
It was what was already in your camera roll.
A photo you’d taken months ago during a particularly filthy night, when you were feeling reckless and painfully needy. The lights had been low, your skin warm, your thoughts wicked. You’d spread yourself wide open on the sheets, wet and glistening, lips parted, your own fingers pulling at your skin. Your face was in it. Your expression ruined.
You had stared at it afterward, thinking: This is too much. No one can ever see this.
But you hadn’t deleted it.
And now… your hand hovered over it. Over the send button. The whole room was watching you, waiting.
You felt drunk. Braver than you should’ve been.
So you said, too calmly, “Fine.”
And tapped send.
It only took thirty seconds for regret to sink in like poison.
What had you just done?
He was going to lose his mind. Or worse, not react at all. He could ruin you. Show people. Mock you in class. Bring it up next time you tried to speak during a lecture.
You curled into the couch, face hot, eyes burning from the alcohol and the humiliation chewing through your stomach. Your phone buzzed once.
Then twice.
You turned it over.
Changbin 💢:
Did you mean to send that?
You stared at your phone like it had grown teeth.
Your thumb hovered over the keyboard.
Every possible answer felt wrong. You almost typed “ignore it”, but deleted it. Then you typed:
“It was a dare. Just forget it.”
Another ping.
Changbin 💢:
That’s not the kind of photo you send as a dare.
You swallowed.
Your face was burning. All the background noise in the living room—the music, the laughter, the clinking glasses—faded to a soft murmur. The heat of the dare was starting to wear off, replaced by a sick rush of adrenaline and humiliation.
Changbin 💢:
Jesus fucking Christ.
I… I didn’t know you looked like that.
You’ve been walking around class with that between your legs?
You tightened your thighs instinctively.
You typed:
“It was a stupid dare. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
But he wasn’t letting it go.
Changbin 💢:
You already had that pic?
That wasn’t a selfie. That was planned.
You took that for someone. You were gonna send it eventually.
You bit your lip.
“It’s old. I never sent it to anyone.”
Changbin 💢:
That makes it worse.
You paused.
“Why?”
Changbin 💢:
Because I’ve never wanted to fuck someone I hate more than I do right now.
You looked so good. So fucking wet. Like you needed someone to take care of it.
You blinked.
Your stomach flipped. The burn between your legs sharpened. You weren’t sure if it was arousal or pure nerves—probably both.
“This is insane.”
“You’re insane.”
“You’re still the asshole who makes me want to throw things in class.”
You deleted it all.
Instead:
“You’ve seen it now. Can you just forget it?”
The reply came back instantly.
Changbin 💢:
No fucking way.
Changbin 💢:
You’re seriously gonna act like you didn’t send that on purpose? Like you don’t want me thinking about it?
Changbin 💢:
You want me hard for you, don’t you?
“No.” “Fuck off.” “Stop.”
You didn’t send any of those.
“You’re full of yourself.”
Changbin 💢:
Nah, princess. You’re the one dripping in that pic, not me.
You closed your eyes.
He was unraveling you.
The way he talked in person was always irritating—too loud, too smug. But here? In text? At 1:03 a.m.?
He was… different. Sharper. Controlled. Bold in a way that went straight to your core.
“You’re lucky I’m drunk.”
Changbin 💢:
You think I need you drunk for this?
I’d still be hard for you even if we were sober in the library.
You bit back a noise.
Your thighs rubbed together involuntarily.
Changbin 💢:
You want me to send something back? Would that make it fair? Even the score?
Your fingers twitched.
“You’re bluffing.”
Changbin 💢:
Try me.
Your pulse quickened.
“You’re not actually going to—”
Ping.
The photo loaded slowly.
Dark sweatpants. No shirt. His abs were tight, skin glowing with a warm amber sheen like he’d taken the pic right after a workout. His hand tugged the waistband down low, and the bulge beneath was unmistakable—huge, thick, pressed to the fabric like it was dying to be freed.
You inhaled, sharp.
The outline of his cock was ridiculous. Heavy. Thick at the base, curving up. The tip clearly outlined. The kind of size that made your body react before your brain caught up.
And his caption?
Changbin 💢:
Now you can imagine what’s gonna fill you the next time you talk back in class.
You didn’t realize your mouth had gone dry until you swallowed hard.
Someone from the living room called your name. “Babe! Your turn!”
“I’ll be right back,” you called, voice strained.
You grabbed your phone, pushed off the couch, and disappeared into the hallway. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere you could breathe.
And think.
And maybe—just maybe—look again.
Because for the first time since you’d met him, you weren’t sure if you hated him… or if you just didn’t know what to do with how badly you suddenly wanted him.
—
You thought you could outlast the tension.
After the photo he sent—the dick print, the way it looked too big to even be real, the caption that made your thighs clench—you told yourself it was just late-night chaos. That once the sun came up, you could pretend it hadn’t happened.
You left him on read.
Muted the conversation.
Avoided every look in class, kept your expression cold, distant.
But Changbin?
He was different now.
Quieter. Sharper. Dangerous.
He still joked with the guys. Still sat in the same row as always. But whenever your eyes flicked up, he was watching you—really watching. Like he could still see that photo of you spread open and dripping every time you bit your lip or crossed your legs.
And when your professor assigned a partner project and called out his name alongside yours?
You knew it was over.
Later that afternoon, the library was quiet. Too quiet. The air between you was thick with something unsaid as you stood beside where he sat, laptops open, pretending to focus.
You tried not to look at him.
Tried not to remember the outline of his cock stretching grey fabric. The way he’d said “what’s gonna fill you next time you talk back in class.”
Your body hadn’t forgotten.
You’d touched yourself to that image more times than you were ready to admit.
“You’ve been quiet,” he murmured, eyes on the screen.
You didn’t look at him. “I’m working.”
“Right.”
“That’s what you were doing the other night too, huh? Working?”
You stiffened.
“I didn’t take you for the type to keep that kind of photo in your phone. Or was it just waiting for someone better to see it?”
You finally turned. “Are you done?”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, smirking—but something darker hid behind his eyes. He leaned in towards you, low and quiet.
“No. Not even close.”
You didn’t notice when he stood. But you did feel it when he moved behind you.
At first, it was just his hand brushing your shoulder as he leaned to peek at your screen.
Then he didn’t move away.
Instead, you felt the heavy press of his chest behind you. His palm slid slowly—casually—over your back. Lower. Resting at the curve of your waist.
And then he shifted—just slightly—and you felt it.
The unmistakable weight of him.
Hard. Thick. Pressed right up against your ass.
Your breath hitched.
“Miss me?” he whispered.
Your cheeks burned. “You’re disgusting.”
“Am I?”
“Because this…” his hand flattened against your hip, pulling you subtly back into his body, into his cock—“says otherwise.”
You should’ve shoved him.
Should’ve snapped, slapped, screamed.
But your body betrayed you.
Your thighs clenched. Your breathing went shallow.
And when his fingers brushed the hem of your skirt, you didn’t move away.
If anything—you leaned back.
“You liked it,” he murmured, lips just behind your ear.
“You liked knowing I saw you like that. That I wanted to fuck you from the second that photo lit up my screen.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, hungrier. “But your body doesn’t agree.”
His hand slid lower, palm resting on your ass now—really grabbing, squeezing, like it was his already. He rutted against you once, slow, just enough to let you feel the size of him again.
You gasped, barely holding in the noise.
“Poor thing,” he whispered.
“Trying so hard to act like you don’t want this cock stretching you open.”
You closed your eyes. “We’re in a fucking library.”
“And you’re soaked,” he growled. “Aren’t you?”
You were.
You hated him for it.
But God—you wanted more.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice a low rumble in your ear.
“Tell me you don’t want me pushing these panties to the side and sliding in right here.”
You didn’t say anything.
And neither did your body.
Because for the first time, you weren’t sure who was in control—him, or the ache between your legs screaming for more.
His grip on your waist didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened—fingers flexing into the curve of your hips like he wanted to memorize the way you fit under his hands.
You told yourself to move.
To snap out of it.
To shove his cocky ass away and slap the heat off your face.
But instead… you shifted.
Barely. Subtly. Almost like a breath.
Your hips arched back just the tiniest bit—and you felt him twitch.
Big. Hot. Hard against you.
And god help you, you did it again.
This time, he chuckled. Low and raspy.
“Keep doing that and I’m gonna take it personally.”
His voice buzzed against the shell of your ear, warm and wicked.
“I can swear you’re wet.”
“I’m not,” you breathed, barely able to form the words.
“No?”
One of his hands slid from your hip, slipping lower, slow and deliberate. Your skirt offered no protection—his fingers eased beneath the hem with practiced ease, knuckles brushing your thigh.
“Then you won’t mind if I check.”
You gasped. “Changbin—”
But it was too late.
His hand slid up. Under your skirt. Under your panties.
And then—his fingers paused.
Right at your slit.
Slick. Dripping. Heat soaked through cotton and flushed onto his fingertips.
He let out a quiet groan, something dark and pleased.
“Fuck me…”
You froze.
“You’re soaked.”
You should’ve died of embarrassment.
Instead, you whimpered—barely, breath catching in your throat. Your thighs twitched, instinctively trying to close, but his hand was already there, slipping further, middle finger pressing through the wetness and parting you open.
“Look at that,” he muttered. “Fighting me in public, dripping for me in private.”
“You can’t—” you whispered, but your voice cracked halfway through.
“I can,” he said. “And I am.”
His fingertip circled your entrance, not quite pushing in. Just enough to tease. To test how badly your body wanted him.
And it did.
God, it did.
“All this just from my picture?” he murmured. “You really are a dirty little thing.”
“Changbin, we’re—someone could—”
“Then stay quiet,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “Be a good girl and let me feel what you’ve been hiding from me.”
You squirmed against him, helpless. His hard-on grinding into your ass. His hand between your legs. Your body betraying everything your mouth refused to say.
But then—he pulled back. Slow. Measured and wicked.
“Not here,” he muttered. “Not yet.”
You let out a shaky exhale, unsure if it was relief or frustration.
“You’re not ready.”
He said it like a promise. Even more like a plan.
—
That night, your phone lit up before midnight.
Changbin 💢
You touching yourself right now?
You swallowed, heat curling in your stomach.
“No.”
A lie.
You’d been thinking about his finger, barely there, slicking through your folds. The way he pressed against you like he could fuck you through your clothes. The restraint he showed—pulling away just when you were about to lose it.
Changbin 💢:
Liar. You were dripping earlier. You think that goes away?
Changbin 💢:
You want help?
Your breath caught.
Then another message.
📷 An image.
A mirror selfie. Taken low. No shirt. Sweatpants slung low on his hips. But this time… no filter, no teasing.
His cock was hard. So obvious. Thick and curving up in those grey sweats, the head visibly straining against the fabric. His hand was wrapped around the base, gripping himself through the material.
Your core clenched.
Changbin 💢:
You made me like this. Do something about it.
Another ping.
🎧An audio file.
You hesitated… then tapped.
His voice—low, breathless, filthy—filled your room.
“Wish you were here right now. I’d be in you already. So deep you’d cry. Want you moaning my name with your thighs wrapped around my waist.”
You bit your knuckle.
“Bet you’re wet again just hearing this.”
You were.
And you knew damn well… this was only the beginning because it was obvious that you knew you should stop.
Mute the chat. Turn your phone off. Go to sleep.
But instead, you hit play again.
Changbin’s voice filled your room for the second time, low and unsteady.
“Wish you were here right now. I’d be in you already. So deep you’d cry. Want you moaning my name with your thighs wrapped around my waist.”
Your hand had already slipped under the waistband of your shorts. Shame curled hot in your chest, but it wasn’t enough to stop you.
Not with his voice saying things like that.
Not when your body was still aching from what he’d done in the library.
You typed, hesitant:
“You’re a menace.”
Changbin 💢:
And you’re quiet. You touching yourself again?
“No.”
Changbin 💢:
You’re such a bad liar.
Another ping. Another message.
Changbin 💢:
Say my name once, and I’ll show you the real thing. But let me hear how down bad you are first.
Your legs squeezed together.
He wasn’t letting up.
Not just the teasing — the control. The way he peeled you open without even being in the same room. It was like he’d figured out every weakness you had and was pressing on all of them at once.
You typed:
“You want me to say your name?”
Changbin 💢:
Just once. Out loud. Right now.
I know you’re touching yourself, i just want to hear you.
Your heart pounded. You stared at the audio reply button. Your thumb hovered.
Me pulling your legs apart. Spitting on your pussy.
Sliding in nice and slow while you beg me to ruin it.
You let out a shaky breath.
Changbin 💢:
C’mon, baby.
Be a good girl and let me hear how badly you want it.
The words good girl punched straight through your resolve.
Your finger hovered over the record button.
You didn’t overthink it. Didn’t script it. But at the back of your mind, you knew shouldn’t have done it.
You knew the second you hit record—you were crossing a line you couldn’t uncross. But the heat in your stomach, the ache between your legs, the way Changbin’s voice still echoed in your ears? It all left you trembling.
So you moaned. You whimpered.
And you said his name.
“Changbin…”
You sounded so fucking needy. So shameless and desperate.
Exactly how you felt.
You hit send with your heart in your throat, thighs clenched tight around your own hand. And then you waited—seconds dragging, breath caught in your chest.
Then: ping.
🎥A video.
No caption. No warning.
You hesitated, pulse in your ears, then tapped it.
The first thing you saw was skin—his hand, wrapped tight around the base of his cock. Thick. Hard. Heavy. His head was a darker shade of his skin, glistening with precum, veins running thick along the shaft.
The next thing you heard?
His voice. Ragged. Strained.
“This what you want, baby?”
He was filming from above, cock in his fist, his abs flexing as he pumped slowly, steadily. Each stroke was loud and wet. His hand moved like he was imagining you were already wrapped around him—tight, dripping, ruined.
“Been jerking off since you moaned my name,” he growled. “You sound so fucking pretty when you’re begging.”
You bit your lip so hard it almost bled.
“Wanna cum in you so bad,” he panted. “Wanna watch it drip out of you. Want you to feel it for days.”
And then—he grunted. Shuddered.
And came.
Ropes of it. Thick spurts shooting across his abs, the head of his cock twitching violently in his grip.
“That’s all for you,” he breathed, voice wrecked.“Next time, I’m doing that inside.”
The video ended, but you were done for.
You stared at your screen like it had punched you in the stomach. Heat licked down your spine. Your hand had slipped between your legs again before you even realized it.
You replayed the video.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
You wanted to taste it. Feel it. Be under it.
Then your screen lit up again.
Changbin 💢:
You still there?
Your fingers trembled. You didn’t even overthink it.
You typed:
“I need you.”
[📍Location Shared]
And hit send.
—
You barely had time to think.
One knock. That’s all it took.
You opened the door and he was on you—mouth crashing into yours, body pinning you flat against the wall like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
He kissed like a man possessed.
Like your voice note had ruined him. Like your moan had carved something primal into his chest and he couldn’t shake it loose.
His tongue slid past your lips, rough and greedy, tasting you like he had to claim you first.
“Fuck,” he growled against your mouth. “Took you long enough.”
You barely had time to respond—his hands were already under your shirt, palming your tits like they were his, thumbs flicking your nipples until you whimpered.
“This all for me?” he asked, breath hot.
“This pussy been soaking since the second I sent that video?”
You gasped as he shoved one leg between yours, grinding up against your clothed heat—his cock already hard, pressing through his sweats like a weapon.
“God,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Can’t wait anymore.”
He picked you up like you weighed nothing, carried you into your own apartment without breaking the kiss, and dropped you—hard—onto the kitchen counter.
Before you could speak, your shorts were yanked down and off. Your panties, too. Ripped aside with one rough pull.
“Fucking knew it,” he muttered as he spread you open. “Look at this wet little pussy. So damn ready for me.”
“You’re such a—”
“Say it,” he snarled, two fingers sliding through your folds, circling your clit just right.
“Say it while I ruin you.”
You choked on a moan, hips jerking up. His fingers dipped inside—thick, slow, curling—testing you.
“Tight,” he hissed. “So fuckin’ tight already.
How the hell you gonna take my cock, baby?”
You looked down—and froze.
He’d pushed his sweats down just enough, and there it was. All of it.
His cock was thick. Long. Veiny. Angry-red at the tip, already leaking. You’d seen the outline. You’d watched him stroke it on video. But up close?
It was fucking terrifying.
And you wanted every inch.
“I’m gonna mess you up real pretty.” he whispered, dragging the head through your slick folds.
“You’re not walking tomorrow.”
You whimpered, thighs trembling.
“Changbin—fuck—”
“What’s that, princess?” he smirked. “You scared of this cock now?”
“Shut the fuck up and give it to me.”
That was all he needed.
He lined up and slammed in—
The stretch was obscene. Your back arched, a broken cry ripped from your throat. He didn’t wait. Didn’t tease. He bottomed out in one brutal stroke, hips snapping forward until his balls slapped against you.
“FUCK,” he growled, head dropping to your shoulder. “Tight little cunt’s squeezing the shit outta me.”
You clawed at his back, desperate to breathe, but it felt too good. The way he filled you—so deep, so thick—you felt him in your stomach.
“Took it all, huh?” he rasped, pulling back just to thrust in harder. “Greedy little thing.”
He fucked you like he meant it. Like he was punishing you for every time you rolled your eyes in class. For every time you told him to shut up.
You were moaning like a pornstar—loud, shameless, wrecked—as he pounded into you on the kitchen counter, sweat dripping, his abs flexing with every thrust.
“You were made for this cock,” he groaned. “Fucking built to take it like a good girl.”
He pulled out suddenly, grabbed your wrist, and dragged you into the living room.
“Bed’s too far. Couch. Now.”
You stumbled, legs shaking. He bent you over the armrest, slapped your ass once—hard—and buried himself inside again with a brutal snap of his hips.
“This ass…” he groaned. “You know how many times I’ve stared at it in class?”
“Wanted to fuck you bent over all the damn desks.”
Your moans were broken now—choked sobs of pleasure every time his hips slammed into you.
He wrapped his hand around your throat, not too tight—just enough to own you.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growled. “Big cock splitting you open. My hand on your neck. My cum dripping out of you.”
“Yes—fuck—yes, Changbin, please—”
“Please what?”
“Please don’t stop.”
His grip tightened. His thrusts turned savage.
“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he warned. “I want it leaking down your thighs when you go to class tomorrow. I want everyone to know this pussy’s mine.”
You clenched around him—hard—and he lost it.
“Fuck—fuck—baby—”
He came deep inside you, groaning like he was unraveling from the core. Hot spurts filling you up, cock twitching inside your walls.
You collapsed forward, shaking.
But he wasn’t done.
He pulled out, flipped you onto the rug, and dropped to his knees.
“Need to taste you.”
His tongue went straight to your core, licking up his own mess, spreading it across your folds as he devoured you like he’d starved for days.
“Not leaving till you cum on my face.”
And you did.
Screaming his name. Shaking. Barely able to think.
Your first mistake had been sending that photo.
But your biggest mistake?
Letting him in.
Because now?
You’d never get him out.
—
You couldn’t move.
You were sprawled out on your back on the rug, blinking at the ceiling, your entire body throbbing with the aftershocks of what he’d just done to you. You felt wrecked in the best, most glorious way.
And yet—somehow—Changbin was the one panting like he’d just gone through hell.
He lay beside you, arm thrown over his face dramatically.
“I’m filing a formal complaint,” he groaned. “Your pussy should come with a fucking warning label.”
You wheezed out a laugh.
“Says the guy who just broke my uterus.”
He turned his head, looked at you.
And melted.
The shift was instant—his gaze softened, mouth twitching into the tiniest smile. He scooted closer, propped himself on one elbow, and brushed your sweaty hair off your cheek.
“You okay?” he asked, voice gentle. “Like… really okay?”
You nodded. “More than okay.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for ten years. Then leaned in and kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheekbone—everywhere but your lips, like he was saving those for dessert.
“I swear I didn’t mean to fuck you like a caveman,” he mumbled. “I blacked out. You made that sound and I was just—gone.”
“You were terrifying,” you whispered, smiling. “In the hottest possible way.”
That made him grin.
He reached over for the hoodie he’d left slung on the chair and helped you into it—actually helped, like lifting your arms, guiding it over your head, kissing your shoulder once it was on.
Then he grabbed a warm towel, knelt between your legs, and started cleaning you up with the softest, most careful touch.
“Can’t have my girl leaking all over the carpet,” he murmured.
“Your girl?”
He looked up with a cocky smirk.
“You just let me raw dog you and you screamed my name for the neighbors, baby. Don’t play shy now.”
You tried to glare, but he leaned forward and kissed your knee. Then your thigh. Then higher.
“Next time,” he said, “I’m taking you slower. Gonna edge you until you’re crying.”
Your stomach flipped.
“You’re already thinking about next time?”
He glanced up at you with a boyish little shrug.
“I think about you all the time.”
Your heart stuttered. Because it didn’t sound like a line. It sounded real. Raw. Like the truth.
He saw your expression shift and leaned in, his lips brushing your temple.
“Not just the sex,” he murmured.
“I think about you when you fight with the professor. When you tie your hoodie strings in knots. When you roll your eyes at me like you always do.”
“Binnie—”
“I like you,” he whispered.
Simple. Honest.
And it hit you harder than any orgasm.
You buried your face in his chest. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, one big palm cupping the back of your head like he could hide you there forever.
“You hungry?” he murmured.
“Starving.”
“Good. I got us pizza and fried chicken.”
You looked up. “You really ordered food while I was moaning your name?”
He smirked. “Actually did it on my way here but I can multitask baby.”
You laughed into his chest, and he kissed your head again.
When the food arrived, you sat curled in his lap, eating from his chopsticks while he kissed sauce off your lips between bites.
Later, when you were tucked into bed and halfway to sleep, he whispered:
“You were fucking perfect tonight.”
“I’m gonna be addicted to you now.”
You didn’t say anything back. You just pulled his arm tighter around you and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles.
Because you already were.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Authors note: Its been a hot minute without a Binnie smut 💪🏻 How are we liking this cute little enemies to lovers?? 🤭❤️
Can we get a backstage seungmin drabble in celebration of the latest seungpics my seungorgeous boy 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
- 🥢
my dear.... i have no idea what pics this is about LMFAO :'D you should send me them if you remember and ill write something <3 i just found this in my drafts but i forgot to add the pics and now ive forgotten 😭
Warnings: just multiple sex positions, some dirty talk, and very explicit wording
Cosmos Note: hiii guys so here's a stray kids version of the "ateez fav positions" (also here you go @hyunjincanraptoo as promised)
my library!
Bang Chan — Missionary with Ankles to Ears (because he's romantic... but unhinged underneath)
At first, Chan kisses you like you’re his entire universe — slow, patient, stroking your cheek. But the second your legs are over his shoulders and he sinks in balls deep, everything changes.
He folds you in half, hips grinding against your ass, pushing so deep you swear he’s in your stomach. He’s groaning in your ear, chest pressed to yours, saying, “You feel that, baby? That’s how deep I wanna be… right in your fucking soul.” Then he starts snapping his hips forward, fast and punishing, each stroke deeper than the last. The kind of rhythm that makes the bed frame slam the wall.
Your legs are trembling, your moans are shameless, and he’s thrusting so hard the sheets are soaked. “You gonna cum for me just like this? Yeah? Show me how good this pussy cums when I fuck you right.”
He doesn't stop until you're shaking, ruined, crying. And even then, he kisses your tears and keeps going. Because he needs it just as much as you do.
Lee Know — Flatiron (because he’s sadistic, cocky, and loves ruining you slowly)
Minho’s favorite thing? Control. So he lays you flat on your stomach, grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, then lines up behind you, drags his cock through your folds, and slides in deep as hell without warning.
This man takes his time. His strokes are slow, controlled, cruel — just to feel you squirm. “So quiet all of a sudden,” he mutters, lips at your ear, “You wanted my cock so bad, now you can’t even take it?” He presses your back down, fucks in deeper, grinds so slow you’re crying into the sheets.
But then? He grabs a fistful of your hair, spits on your ass, and pounds into you like he’s trying to break the bed. His thrusts are brutal, his dirty talk is feral. “Fucking slut for it, huh? All dripping and dumb for me.”
He won’t stop until your thighs are soaked, your voice is gone, and you’re clenching around him like a lifeline. He’ll cum with a snarl and keep fucking it into you until it’s dripping down your thighs. Cold-blooded. Savage. God-tier stroke game.
Changbin — Piledriver (because he wants depth, dominance, and destruction)
This man is built. And he wants to use every muscle. He folds you completely, ass up, legs pinned by your head while he’s above you, driving his cock in at a violent angle. His abs flexing, veins bulging, sweat dripping down his chest while you’re gasping for air.
“You like it like this?” he pants, slapping your pussy mid-thrust, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight… taking all of me like a little toy.” The sound is obscene — squelching, slapping, moaning, him growling in frustration because he can’t get deep enough (even though he’s already splitting you open).
He grabs your thighs, pushes your legs harder, and starts fucking down into you with pure brute force. You’re crying, babbling, twitching — and he’s grinning, proud, chasing his orgasm while you fall apart under him.
And when he finishes? He doesn’t pull out. Just pants, presses deeper, and says “Keep it in. Let it leak out later, pretty girl.”
Hyunjin — Reverse Lotus (because he needs intimacy and to own you at once)
Hyunjin wants to look in your eyes while he wrecks you. So he sits cross-legged, pulls you onto his lap facing away, and holds you to his chest while he fucks up into you from below.
You’re moaning, head tilted back on his shoulder, while his hands run over your chest, grip your throat, and guide your hips. “I want you to feel everything, baby,” he whispers, “Feel how deep I am? I’m inside every part of you.”
He kisses your neck while he rocks into you, slow but deliberate. And when you clench around him? His rhythm breaks. He loses himself, thrusting hard, gripping your thighs, panting in your ear, “Take it. Take all of me. Let me ruin you.”
The moment you cum? He’s groaning like a beast, burying himself as deep as he can, cumming so hard his legs shake. Then he just holds you, bodies still tangled, letting his cum drip out onto his thighs while he whispers, “You’re everything to me.”
Han Jisung — Doggy with Wrist Control (because he’s needy, nasty, and lowkey a freak)
Doggy is Han’s heaven. But not just any doggy. He needs your wrists pinned behind your back, held in one hand, while he pounds into you from behind like a man possessed.
His thrusts? Rough. Fast. Filthy. He’s groaning, panting, moaning every dirty word in the book. “You’re mine. Fuck—mine. So fucking good, I can’t stop—shit.” He watches your ass bounce with every thrust, spits on your back, and uses it like lube as he drives in harder.
And if you cry a little? Even better. “That’s it, baby. Cry on my cock. That’s what I like. You’re so fucking pretty when I break you.” He’ll choke you from behind, lean in close, growling “Don’t run. Take it. Take all of it.”
He finishes inside you with a ragged whimper, hips jerking while he fills you up and still doesn’t pull out. You’re shaking, gasping, limp — and he just kisses your shoulder and goes, “Round two in five minutes. Water break.”
That man has issues. You’re the solution.
Felix — Face-Sitting (because he’s your soft-voiced menace who lives for worship)
Sweet little Lixie? Lies. He begs you to sit on his face. Straight up grabs your thighs, looks up at you with those glowing doe eyes, and says, “Please, baby… let me taste you. I’ll be good.” And the second you’re on top? He’s feral.
He starts slow, kitten-licks to your cl!t, hands gripping your thighs like handles while he moans into your pussy like it’s his favorite song. Then he sucks — messy, wet, shaking his head side to side with your clit in his mouth while you’re screaming, “Lix, I’m gonna—!” and he’s like, “Do it. Make a mess on me, sunshine.”
When you try to lift off, he pulls you back down, groaning into your core, “Uh uh, sit, baby. Don’t run from me. Be a good girl and ride it.”
And when you do? You squ!rt. You soak him. You sob. And this man? Smiles. Licks his lips and goes, “Told you I’d take care of you. Wanna go again?”
Your throne is his home. Always.
Seungmin — Over-the-Edge-of-the-Bed Doggy (because he’s calculated, ruthless, and lives to make you cry)
Seungmin’s whole thing? Torture, but make it controlled. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, ass out, face buried in the sheets. He lines up behind you, spits on his cock, slides in with one smooth, brutal thrust — and doesn’t move.
“Feel that?” he murmurs, hands gripping your hips like a vice, “You’re stretched out so good already. So fucking ready for me.” Then he starts pounding into you, slamming your hips into the mattress, barely holding back a growl.
And the filth he whispers while he ruins you? “This what you wanted? All whiny for my cock, now you’re just a hole to fuck, huh? Pathetic.” And he doesn’t just thrust — he aims. Tilts his hips just right to hit that one spot over and over until you’re choking on your own breath.
Your mascara’s running, your thighs are shaking, and Seungmin’s just smirking, biting his lip, dripping sweat onto your back. He’ll cum with a grunt and slap your ass as it leaks out, saying, “Clean it up. Tongue or fingers, you pick.”
Ice-cold. Vicious. Addictive.
Jeongin — Cowgirl (with full control + dirty degradation)
You think Jeongin’s shy? Cute? Baby boy material? Wrong. Sit on his lap and let him be still — just let you ride him. Then look down at his face. That smug little smirk? You’re done.
He sits back, one hand on your waist, the other gripping your throat, eyes half-lidded while he watches you bounce on his cock. “Look at you,” he purrs, voice low and raspy, “So desperate. You that needy for it, baby?” And when you moan? He laughs. “You think you’re in control? You’re just using my cock to get off. So fucking needy for it you can’t even think straight.”
When you get too close to cumming? He grips your hips and slams up into you, hard and fast, hips snapping while he moans, “Cum for me. Now. Make that mess on my cock like the dumb little thing you are.”
You collapse onto his chest, shaking, overstimulated. And he just brushes your hair back and whispers in your ear, “Good girl. Now do it again.”
Don’t let the baby face fool you. He’s a menace in disguise.
