Can you please do a choi seunghyun x famous reader but like everyone in Korea thinks she’s a no body but actually she’s a big deal in America they have no idea how big she actually is till they look her up and realize “oh shit……wait she’s actually way out of his league😭😭” yk like “the peoples princess” title or something like that and even everyone in their friend group like the other big bang members are like……”soo how’d you bag her????????” She’s actually much younger then him but she asked him out first everyone is wondering how there two got together but seunghyun is just happy to be there with his girl
hey. <3 i will def do this request just finishing off another and then i’ll post this xx
part of @slut4kwon’s so close to what event ! Thank you for having me apart of it my love, I really enjoyed writing this. Let’s support the event and the other amazing writers involved <3 - and to celebrate BIGBANG’s anniversary !!
pairing : Choi Seunghyun x fem!reader
genre : fluff, suggestive
description : You and Seunghyun have been somewhat more than friends for a while. But there’s never been a label to it. Flirting constantly, staying at each others place, always together. Your friends are unconvinced everytime you deny your feelings, and over a drunken night, Seunghyun hears the words he’s finally be waiting to here from you.
warnings / contents : mentions of alcohol/drinking, implied smut at the end - not graphic -
It was the sixth night you were about to spend at Seunghyun’s place. That was the norm for the two of you, randomly show up one night then practically move in for at least a couple days at a time.
You told yourself it was convenient. That it was because of all the business parties that the two of you had to go to this week, and his place was closer.
He would never mind, if anything he adored teasing you about him, constantly asking if you like him with a smug grin on his face, dimples and all.
But even your mutual friends saw through your facade. And it wasn’t like Seunghyun was very innocent either.
It was in the way he would call you baby. His arm always ended up over your shoulder or around your waist with a grip that didn’t speak ‘friendly’. His jacket would find its way around you, burying you in the cozy material. The jacket he got personalised for a concert once that had the word, ‘T.O.P’ on the back.
And that’s what tonight was. Driving back from the convenience store two blocks down at eleven at night, the same jacket covering you after you kept whining about how cold it was in the freezer aisle.
His playlist blurred through the cars speakers, you could’ve sworn you heard one of them start to pop from how loud he insisted on having his music.
But it wasn’t his music. It was a playlist he made, sure, but you added most of the songs. Whether it was you influencing his taste with yours, or him insisting on having a piece of you with him even in something so mundane as a playlist.
You sang along to the lyrics, even Seunghyun knew most of them by now, but he would never complain about it. The street lights reflected off your face and his glasses were perched up on the top of your head for safe keeping.
“What shall we watch when we get back?” He asked, hair slightly messy on the top of his head, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel.
As you pursed your lips to respond he continued before he gave you the chance to, “And I’m not watching another love film”
Your eyes squinted slightly in confusion, “A romance film?” You questioned, shopping bag in your hand full of snacks and drinks that would probably only get half eaten.
He scoffed quietly, the sound barely aduible over the deafening music, “Yeah but that’s basically a love film baby”
It wasn’t odd for him to call you baby. In your two years of being friends it had quickly become a casual term of endearment, mainly used to get a reaction out of you if he was reading.
“Okay then, what about something funny?” You asked him, taking your drink out of the bag to take a sip, before it was stolen by Seunghyun, the drinks fluid almost knocking around the car if he wasn’t careful.
“Sure, look on my phone and see if we have anything good” He took a long sip, practically draining the drink already before handing it back to you with a small smile.
You turned the music down, just a little before taking his phone to try and find a movie, “What’s your password?”
“Your birthday” He replied simply, a knowing smirk on his face as he steered into his neighbourhood.
The flush quickly rose to your cheeks but you ignored it, unlocking his phone before going on his Netflix to check.
You did have a profile on his account. But he changed it from your name to ‘baby’.
Taking a small sip of your drink, you scrolled through the comedy section before finding something you thought he’d like, “Kay I found one”
He hummed as a response, just as he parked the car into his driveway and unbuckling your seatbelt for you, like he always would.
Once you were out of the car, the street quiet due to the late night, the breeze cold as he swung his arm around your waist lazily, unlocking the door before ushering you in.
You quickly set the bag down on the coffee table, practically burying yourself in the couch, hair loose in the tie holding it together as you took the remote.
He smiled at the sight of you briefly, laying his keys down safely before coming to sit next to you, legs slightly parted, hands over his lap as he watched you find the movie.
But his gaze wasn’t on the light of the TV. It was on you. The way you still hadn’t took his jacket off, and you made yourself comfy in his space like it was your own.
Which the two of you made it your own together.
“You like?” He drawled out in a familiar tone that had you barely even glancing at him before turning back to the remote in your hand, trying to find the movie you had found previously.
“Shut up” You scoffed, but he was persistent, head tilted the tiniest bit as he leaned closer to you,
“You like?” He repeated teasingly, before letting you have your peace. Not before he took your folded up legs and placed them over his lap though.
You suppressed your feelings, in denial about it yourself when the tips of your ears started to burn and your grip on the remote tightened.
“Jagiya you didn’t answer the question” He playfully spoke, hand resting over the spot just above your knees.
With a final slump further into his luxury couch, you look over at him when the opening of the movie starts to play, taking in his dark eyes and the dimpled cheeks you grew to love.
“No Seunghyun i’m not in love, and I don’t like” you finally answered properly. A practised lie you could now spill out with ease. If only you knew it was a lie.
He looked back at you with a softness in his eyes that no one else would ever see from him. Seunghyun didn’t speak after that. Just turned away after a couple more seconds and focused, or at least tried to, on the movie.
The movie was funny. A stupid comedy that was enough to let Seunghyun hear that laugh of yours he was obsessed with.
His hand remained on your knee till around half way through the movie, where he switched it to wrap around your shoulders, effectively drawing you into his chest.
He could feel and hear your ragged breath, it was almost comical to him the effect he knew he had on you.
“Do I make you nervous or something baby?” He huffed a quiet laugh, looking down at you as you desperately attempted to keep your eyes on the screen.
His laugh only continued when you failed to answer him, hand brushing your hair away from your neck, the strands cascading down your back.
He left you alone after that. Let you watch the movie, as well as him. His hand hovered near the side of your neck, resting loosely on your collarbone.
The man only looked down again when your breathing completely evened out, and the welcomed light weight in his chest got heavier against him slightly.
Your eyes were shut, lips in a small pout as if you were whining about something even in your sleep.
Seunghyun smiled, his heart warming and his eyes softening, before leaning down to kiss the crown of your head, cradling your skull in his hand.
He left you like that till the movie had completely finished, and you had succumbed further to sleep, lips pursed the tiniest bit.
The credits rolled, but he didn’t move just yet. He didn’t even glance at the screen or turn it off.
With a final kiss to your hair, he adjusted himself quietly, slowly, careful not to wake you, his lips thinned in concentration before he scooped you up in his arms, limp under his grasp.
His hands held you safely against him, one arm underneath your knees, the other around your shoulders, your head finding its way back to his chest, even in sleep.
Seunghyun was a sort of night owl himself, so once had had situated you comfy in your side of the bed, he dimmed the lights enough so that you were comfortable, without turning them all the way off.
He crouched down beside the bed, covering you with the thick blankets, your face already burying itself into the pillow, hair splattered across the material.
He out your phone on the bedside table, ready for you in the morning, before he got into his side of the bed.
It was only then that he realised his jacket still endourned your frame. The material provided you more warmth then any blanket could.
“Seunghyun stop torturing me” you whined dramatically as he took you out of his car the next day. Similar to last night. Except right now you were at your place instead of his and you were insanely drunk.
Your eyeliner was faded, your hair was put up into a low ponytail that Seunghyun forced, lip gloss non existent.
He picked your arm up and wrapped it around his shoulder for balance despite his taller frame, opting to bend his knees slightly as you walked.
You walked like you’d never before, stumbling over your own feet begrudgingly, a mixture of a pout and a scowl on your face.
“I’m not torturing you don’t be so dramatic” He huffed a laugh, the spare key to your place you gave him a while ago idle in his other hand, the other gripping your waist to try and save you from falling.
Seunghyun looked down at you. even in your drunken state and slightly messed up appearance he did still think you were beautiful.
When you looked up at him, glossy eyes and all his grin stilled. He paused for a small moment, blinking before he pressed his lips together and stepped forward again, helping you despite you not wanting to go home.
“Seunghyun I don’t wanna go home” you spoke, untangling your arm from around his shoulder in an attempt of being somewhat independent, planting your feet into the floor as harshly as you could given your state.
“Aish, do you always have to be so much work” He murmured, loud enough for you to hear as he moved his hand from your waist to around your shoulders, the other going to underneath your knees to pick you up.
“We keep finding ourselves like this” He teased, referring to the previous night that you didn’t remember him doing, which you probably wouldn’t remember this one either.
You groaned, but succumbed to his stubbornness as if it were your own, head leaning back against his arm.
He let you down once you reached your door ten seconds later, a simple trip despite your earlier ways.
Opening your door, he ruffled your hair playfully as he ushered you in, careful to keep the lights dim. The headache wasn’t doing you much justice in terms of how you felt right now.
You almost collapsed onto the sofa before he gently pulled you away by the shoulders and walked you shakily to the bedroom, his frame hovering over yours form behind.
“Are you staying?” You asked. A normal question between the two of you. His lips tugged up at the corner of his mouth for a moment before he replied, opening your bedroom door, a soft creak echoing throughout.
“I’ll stay on the couch” He murmured gently, motioning for you to sit down on the bed. It was his rule. No sharing a bed when you’re drunk. He didn’t want you to wake up the next day and be uncomfortable, despite the fact you share a bed sober anyways.
You groaned again when he used both hands to brush the stray hairs behind your ears, “But i’m lonely Seunghyun”
The words died in your throat once he came from your dressing table with a makeup wipe, cradling your chin between his fingers,
“Stop complaining” He was once again pretending to be annoyed with your drunken whines, when both of you knew he was more than happy with taking care of your drunk ass.
You avoided his gaze while he wiped your makeup off with a familiar gentleness. That was until the wipe ghosted near your lips and you looked up at him, eyes suddenly tired, exhausted even, vision blurring in front of your eyes as you fought off your inevitable drunken sleep.
He chuckled under his breath at the sight of you so sleepy, “You wanna get changed?”
You nodded briefly, to which he helped you change into a long t shirt and shorts, with the okay from you, and being careful not to look whilst he did.
Seunghyun laid you back in the bed afterwards, your hair starting to get knotted near the ends as it lay on the pillows.
“Mm, there you go” He motioned to your form, getting the advil out of your bedside drawer and putting it on top of the table so you could get it easily in the morning, which he knew you would need.
“I think I do by the way” You mutters under your breath, barely loud enough for him to comprehend properly. His gaze turned back to you confused at your babbling.
“You do what?” He smiled unknowingly, signature dimples on show once more. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, rolling over into your side when he coached next to the bed, your faces not too far from each other.
“I do like” You playfully yet truthfully say whilst he tugged the blanket up you, freezing when you openly stated that.
Your eyes were dropping and you were half asleep, but he can’t help but ponder, “What?”
You hummed as a response, a hint of a grin faintly adorning your face. His brain almost short circuited until he remembered you were drunk, and probably had no idea what you were saying. Except he couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was true.
His smile still remained tugged on his lips, except it had dropped slightly, less playful, more softened, hanger what to do.
Seunghyun chose to ignore it, opting to kiss your temple instead before getting up and dimming the lamp.
“I’ll be here still when you wake up” He assured you when you looked up at him like he kicked your puppy.
You nodded briefly, closing your eyes on the pillow, finally succumbing to sleep, “Love you” you murmured, lips slightly parted.
He stood by the door, but before he walked out completely he watched. Watched as you had no idea what you had just opened up to completely wasted.
It was probably drunk talk he told himself.
Until he looked at your dresser. The pictures of you and him that filled the empty spaces between your makeup and skincare.
He wouldn’t mention it. That was until it ate at his brain to the point he laid awake on your couch for most of the night, eyes flickering to your bedroom and back to the tv, your favourite show playing loosely int he background, purely for the comfort of the noise.
“Do you seriously not remember anything about last night?” He laughed bitterly, but disguised it with crinkled eyes and a kind smile. He should’ve expected this.
You murmured as a no, coffee cup in hand, fingers near the rim of the cup. You sat up more properly against the headboard, looking over at him as he made himself comfy in your end, his old pyjamas he left here one time fitting his frame.
He nodded dismissively, grabbing the tv remote and turning the tv on, careful to have it not too loud as to not anger your hard hitting hangover.
“What was I saying some random shit again?” You laughed, your eyes still slightly heavy and hair now in a bun you messily compiled on the top of your head.
Seunghyun didn’t look back at you. He kept his gaze on the TV screen, awfully similar to the way you did just nights before.
“Not completely random” He assured. but that did nothing to give you answers as to what you mumbled half asleep.
“Well i’m sorry if you had to listen to me ramble about cats again”
That didn’t get the humoured laugh you expected. His eyes looked slightly distant on the screen, as if he were in a thought trance that he couldn’t get out of.
“Hey you okay?” You softly ask, a hint of concern etching your features as he looked back at you almost hurriedly before getting up from the bed.
“Yeah jagi, i’m fine. I’ll make you some food”
That was all you spoke for a while after that. You wondered if you said something wrong last night. Or if you were too much. But you couldn’t let the thoughts pool in your brain for too long when he comeback in with breakfast for two and shared it quietly with you under the sheets like two kids at a sleepover sneaking snacks.
He went to the studio not long after. Spent too much time dawdling in the shower thinking about the night before for you to be okay with letting this continue for much longer.
You didn’t do much that day. Got some work done form home, made dinner early, a comforting recipe you often found yourself turning to.
When your texts were left on delivered for too long to consider normal, at least not for him, you desperately tried to remember what thenhell hapepned the night before.
It wasn’t too much of a blur. You remember him taking your makeup off with the softest hands anyone could muster. You remembered the way he tucked you in.
And then it hit you like a truck. The thing you admitted. Which you had never even admitted to yourself before then. The look on his face before he begrudgingly got up.
It explained why he seemed distant. Why his eyes didn’t remain on yours for too long. It also explained why he hadn’t teased you at all today. Not even an annoying blowed kiss.
You opened your phone, not even caring if yous seemed clingy anymore.
you
seunghyun can you pick up the phone ??
i’m sorry about last night
i promise i didn’t mean to!
read 6.17pm
Your heart sank in your chest a little. You couldn’t dwell on it for too long though when your doorbell rang less then ten minutes later.
And there he stood. His hoodie burying his frame and jeans slightly damp at the bottom from where the rain got on them.
You looked at him for a moment. There was room for him to walk in but you didn’t usher him in like you normally would. You waited to see what he had to say.
His gazed finally landed on yours eyes. And for the first time in a while you saw a vulnerable version of him be only allowed you to see.
“Did you really not mean it?” he questioned, his voice deep and lips not holding that smile that you he normally had you mirroring.
Your breath stammered for a moment before you caught it just in time to reply, “What?”
“If you say you didn’t mean it I’ll go home and we can pretend it never happened, go back to normal” He told you, voice not wavering for a second as his eyes that once avoided your gaze now refused to leave
You waited a beat. You weren’t sure what you were sacrificing here. A friendship? The thought of him never looking at you the same again?
“And what if I did?” You asked. It was meant to come off as a hypothetical, but both of you knew the real meaning behind it.
“Then you shouldnt mind if I kissed you”
The phrase caught you off guard. It’s as so uncharacteristic of him. Not like him at all. There was no sarcasm or teasing in his tone. Just an underlying weight of a truth he too had hidden for long. Except he never lied to himself about it.
He knew.
He knew that when the staying at each others house became a sort of ritual. When the being each others emergency contacts and memorising each other more then they knew themselves. He knew that whatever you had between you wasn’t platonic.
You stayed quiet. That was enough for him to take the two steps it took to reach you, his hand cradling th back of your head, hair bunching up slightly under his hold as he prsssed his lips to yours.
It wasn’t desperate per say. It was more of a weight being lifted off both your shoulders, an unarmed gift of affection.
Your own arms snaked around his neck, holding him closer to you as the feeling of losing him completely left your mind. That wasn’t even an option now.
He walked you backwards towards the bedroom he had only left hours before, “Told you, you liked me” He murmured between heavy breaths and stolen kisses, when your hands reached the hem of his shirt and his own cradles your hips with an urgency no man had ever shown you before.
And when your back hit the bed softly, and his lips were back on yours, legs wrapped around his waist like a lifeline you knew too. You’d be okay.
taglist : @youlikeex @slut4kwon @seungttttop @szonyix6277 @serenadeonacanoe : taglist form here
pairing: choi seunghyun x fem!reader (featuring jiyong, daesung, taeyang and hyorin)
warnings: possessive nature, mentions of alcohol, suggestive dialogue, no real warnings
word count: 1.7k
synopsis: in true jiyong fashion, he chose to throw a massive swanky party at a luxury lounge in the city to celebrate his 37th birthday. you and your long term boyfriend, seunghyun, were obviously invited especially now that the estranged friends had reconnected. while you and seunghyun were mingling around the party separately, you couldn’t help but notice the clingy blonde who wouldn’t leave him alone. though not even slightly worried about his loyalty, after some gentle encouragement, you chose to let her know exactly who he’d be going home with that night.
note: this is part of @slut4kwon's so close to what event, and congrats to her for her first 100 (now 200 at the timing of my post!)! this fic is loosely based off of tate mcrae's "miss possessive". thx for reading :)
Masterlist
“Who is that?” Sneering over your glass of champagne and pointing in the direction of your boyfriend, you caught Hyorin’s attention.
Swiveling her head to where you were gesturing, she snorted an annoyed laugh. “That is someone from Chanel I think. Jiyong knows her through the brand.”
The two of you leaned back against the piece of furniture behind you, arms crossed over your chests with your drinks dangling in one hand.
One of the best parts of having female friendships is the assumed mutual distaste of the same people. Some neither of you had even actually met yet, but if vibes were off? No chance of redemption.
Some girl give you a dirty look when crossing paths in a restaurant bathroom? Dead.
A grungy mechanic hits on you while you’re just in for a routine oil change? Boy, bye.
And when a tall, lanky blonde with blue eyes is laughing at something your man has said, finding ways to flirtatiously touch him while tossing her hair seductively in an attempt to get his attention? Instant enemy.
“How much you wanna bet whatever Seunghyun just said wasn’t even that funny?” Your eyes remained fixed on the two of them across the room, a long manicured fingernail tapping on your flute glass aimlessly.
“How much you wanna bet her dumb French ass can’t even understand what he’s saying anyway?” Hyorin spoke dryly, causing a soft scoff from you. “You gonna do anything about that disaster?”
Slowly shaking your head, you exhaled a sigh. “Nah, I’ll let it play out a bit longer.” A few seconds went by before you giggled empathetically at the unfolding scene. “Look at him… he looks so uncomfortable.”
At that exact moment, Seunghyun nervously tugged on the collar of his black dress shirt, obviously uneasy with the attention from the stranger. As she gently brushed her hand against his bicep again, he cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “Um, sorry, it looks like I need to refresh my glass of wine,” he held his near empty glass up, corroborating his story. “Please excuse me.”
Blondie pouted annoyingly as he broke away, and once he was a decent distance away, he looked up and made direct eye contact with you. A small grin formed over his lips as he made his way towards you and Hyorin, conveniently perched near the bar.
“Ladies…” he said, his deep timbre rolling off his tongue deliciously, as he came to a halt right beside you.
“Hyun,” Hyorin smirked, raising her glass to him in faux cheers.
“Having fun over there?” Your body language hadn’t changed with his arrival, though your knowing grin was enough to cause Seunghyun’s brow to raise in curiosity.
“Huh, with what?” He began, looking back to where he previously stood and the blonde who was now talking with the Kwon Twins. “Oh Camille?” Seunghyun snorted, shaking his head. “She’s drunk.”
“Baby, no. Camille,” you said, exaggerating a horrible French accent, “wants in your pants.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Hyorin took another sip of her drink as Seunghyun scoffed again. “No she doesn’t, she’s just… friendly.”
“And she wants in your pants,” you added with a laugh.
His ears flushed a bright red, signaling his obvious embarrassment over the situation. Trying to shrug it off, he placed his large hand on the small of your back before he leaned in to kiss your temple. “Well the only pants I want in are yours, Jagi.”
Turning to look up at him, you smirked, lifting your free hand to adjust his black framed glasses on his face. “Too bad I’m wearing this dress then, huh?”
Leaning in closer to you, his voice dropped a little lower, whispering against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Even better, easier access.”
“Ohhhhkay!” Hyorin interjected, laughing awkwardly to get the two of you to stop. “Take this somewhere else before I puke, please.”
Seunghyun smirked, leaning away from you again before he reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m gonna get a refill and go find the guys.”
With his hand still clasped within yours, you lifted it up to your mouth and kissed the back of his hand firmly. As you pulled it away from your lips, you grinned approvingly at the bright red lipstick now staining his skin in the shape of your lips. “Have fun, Baby.”
Another hour or so rolled by and the crowd of guests were now swarmed around a central table, an ostentatious cake in the middle of it and an adorably embarrassed Jiyong was in the center of it all, attempting to hide beneath his straw hat while the partygoers sang Happy Birthday to him boisterously.
As the song ended and everyone began applauding and cheering, Ji bowed gratefully to everyone and swiped his finger through the vanilla frosting, licking it off with an animated nod of approval. “Cake for everyone!”
The crowd began to disperse, and you were given a direct pathway to Jiyong, not having had the opportunity to address the birthday boy yet. Coming up to his side, you extended your arms towards him for a hug. “Happy Birthday, Oppa!”
Hearing your voice, Jiyong turned towards you and his eyes lit up, embracing you in a tight hug. “Y/N! I was wondering where you were hiding, I haven’t seen you at all tonight.”
“Oh you know me, always lurking around somewhere,” you giggled, taking a step back to helpfully readjust his crooked hat. “Great party though, Ji… you don’t look a day over 47.”
Bring his hand to his chest dramatically, he groaned. “Ouch. Just hit me where it hurts why don’t you?” With a smirk, he gave you a half shrug. “At least I’m still not as old as your old man. Where is he anyway?”
Glancing around the room, you didn’t automatically see Seunghyun anywhere either. “Good question, he keeps disappearing on me,” you added with a laugh.
“Ahh, found him!” Ji gently grabbed your arm and pointed in the direction of a small gathering of people near the DJ booth. Low and behold, there he was with Tae, Dae, and Camille yet again.
“Ugh,” you said with an annoyed sigh, Ji glanced back to you with an arched brow. “Problem?”
“Frenchy over there has been following him all night like a lost puppy.”
Snorting at your comment, Ji shifted his stance. “To be fair she doesn’t really know anyone else here, and she may not know that he’s taken.”
Giving him a wary look, you replied “is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“What! I’m just saying… you guys aren’t public and there’s no ring and you haven’t really been with him at all tonight.”
“Oh so now this is my fault for letting him go around and talk to other people?” Your tone was accusatory, but teasingly so.
“Nooo, no no. Just sayin… maybe you should go clear up any possible confusion she may have if you’re so worried about it.” He shrugged, punctuating his statement.
“I’m not worried about it…”
“Yeah, ok,” he snorted.
Backhanding his arm lightly, Jiyong backed away in fake pain. “If you see any hair pulling just know this is your fault.”
“Credit will all be mine!” He said, his voice trailing from behind you as you walked away.
Slowly approaching the small group, you observed their interactions before Daesung was the first to notice you. His bright smile lit up his face as he waved you over. “Y/N! You look amazing tonight, come here, come here!”
Walking towards him, he pulled you against his side and kissed your cheek gently. “Good to see you!”
“You too, Oppa,” you smile, hugging him from the side as you looked over to Taeyang who offered you a small wave. “Haven’t seen you much tonight.”
“Nah, your wife had me sequestered to herself in a corner for a while,” you added with a laugh, finally shifting your attention to Seunghyun with a warm grin and a subtle wink.
Noticing your familiarity with the three men, Camille tried to be polite and introduce herself. “Hi, I’m Camille, a friend of Jiyong’s,” she offered her hand in an attempt at a more formal greeting.
Bowing slightly in reply, you sidled beside Seunghyun, still not yet touching him. “I’m Y/N, also a friend of Ji’s.” Hearing your introduction and choice of words, Seunghyun snorted into his wine glass. The other two men smirked, exchanging knowing looks.
“Are you enjoying yourself in Korea so far?” Your voice was level, polite, clipped as Seunghyun slowly snaked his arm around your waist. Due to everyone’s proximity, it wasn’t yet visible to anyone else.
“I am! It’s beautiful, so humid though. But goodness, I had no idea there were so many handsome men around.” Camille droned on, winking teasingly at Seunghyun beside you.
“Right?” You offered a fake laugh while you shifted your position, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand to drape it over the back of your shoulders.
Now with his hand on your shoulder, you reached up it, holding it gently as you angled the back of it, marked with your lip print, prominently towards the rest of the group.
Both Tae and Dae noticed it immediately, but said nothing, amusingly watching the exchange between you and Seunghyun now fully aware of your possessive actions.
“If you’re looking to meet any single ones I can maybe try to point you in the right direction? Like Daesung here,” gesturing towards him, you leaned back into Seunghyun a little bit more.
Gasping dramatically, Dae brought his hand to his chest. “Me? Why me?”
Camille giggled at the maknae’s energy, “sweet Daesung, don’t worry, you’re not exactly my type,” she replied, finally glancing back towards you just as Seunghyun kissed your temple gently. “Ahhh…” she murmured, nodding her head in realization.
Turning to face your boyfriend more directly, you placed one hand gently on his opposite cheek and brought him down to you, lips melting against his in a warm, lingering kiss. As you broke away, you smiled up at him just before he kissed the tip of your nose.
Shifting your attention back to Camille, you confidently sighed, fully leaning against your man with a cocky smirk. “Like I said, if you want some help with some single ones, let me know.”
thank you so much for the request!! i hope you enjoy <3
warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of drug and alcohol use, toxic relationship!!!!, mentions of sex ofc, reader and su-bong are not always nice to each other :( happy ending tho!
words: 4.8k
when you find out you’re pregnant with su-bong’s kid, your whole world feels like it’s crashing down. at first, you laugh a bit, telling yourself it’s just a false positive. your lies are no longer believable when you test positive three more times, though, the third being confirmed by your doctor herself. you wait a few days to tell su-bong, unsure of how to even bring it up. you know he’ll cause a scene regardless—the two of you don’t have the healthiest of relationships. he’s not abusive by any means, but your relationship has been labeled as toxic by just about everyone who knows you. in your opinion, things are good between the two of you, for the most part. that is, until, he comes home plastered, tripping balls off of whatever pill was handed to him and reeking of the cheapest vodka available at club pentagon. which is most nights, you suppose. much like tonight.
you’re lounging on the couch, wanting nothing more than a glass of wine or a joint, something to momentarily alleviate your anxiety, but alas, you now have another human to worry about. instead, you watch whatever shitty rom-com plays on the tv, trying to focus despite your racing thoughts. you’re about to nod off before you hear the front door creak open, followed by su-bongs familiar footsteps. they grow closer and soon enough, the man stands before you, his deep purple hair disheveled.
“hey.” he mutters mindlessly, plopping down beside you on the couch. su-bong slings an arm around your shoulder and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “hi.” you mumble in response, eyes glued to the tv screen. from the corner of your eye, you see su-bong glance over at you, eyes narrowed as he analyzes your tone.
“what’s up with you?” his voice is gruff—deeper than usual—and you attribute it to his altered state.
“nothing…” even you don’t sound convinced, but how the hell are you supposed to relay the news to him?
oh nothing really, just found out i’m pregnant with your kid, no big deal.
it seems impossible to communicate without inducing a panic attack, but you know su-bong won’t let it go until you come clean.
“nothing my ass, girl. what’s the matter?” his whole body faces you, now, urging you to give him your undivided attention so you can tell him what’s wrong. you struggle to find the words. “um, i just…found out something kinda serious at the doctors the other day and i’m not sure how to tell you.”
su-bong stiffens at that, his mind instantly racing as he fears the worst. “what was it? you’re not dying, are you?” if you weren’t so nervous, you might’ve laughed at his panicked words.
“no, no, nothing like that.” you’re stalling, now, knowing that when you tell him you’re pregnant, it will make things feel more real, and you’re not sure you’re ready for that yet. but deep down, you know you have to be.
“well shit, what is it, baby? you got me sweatin’ bullets over here.” you sigh at su-bong’s dramatics, and finally turn to face him, his worried eyes meeting yours instantly.
“i’m pregnant.” tears well up in your eyes the moment you admit it, and su-bong’s expression morphs into one of stoicism. your mind instantly begins to race, fearing the worst—he’s going to leave you, abandon you, flee from you and your child to go live his life stress-free—the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since you saw the positive test. his response only adds to your fears.
“bullshit.” su-bong snickers, though you can tell it’s out of disbelief rather than amusement. you glare at the man, offended. “i’m not lying, su-bong. i got tested at the doctor’s office and everything.”
he rolls his eyes, looking down at his nails to pick at the chipped polish. “yeah right, girl. you just want to try and trap me so you can mooch off all my money.” su-bong says it so matter-of-factly you almost laugh.
“what money? you’ve been broke since the day i met you, you asshole. why would i even lie about this?” you fire back, now angrier than upset. you can’t tell if he really believes what he says or if he’s in denial. either way, you’re pissed.
su-bong looks up from his nails, an irritated look on his face. “i’ve made tons of money from club pentagon this year, so don’t even try that. if you need some, you can just ask.” now your blood is really boiling. sometimes you wonder how you ever even had sex with him in the first place; he can be so incredibly arrogant and close-minded, but you try to remind yourself there’s goodness in him. it’s just hard at the moment.
“you’re the last person i would ask. all you do is piss your money away on drugs and liquor, so you don’t even try that.” you get up and stomp off towards the bedroom, rummaging through the drawer of your bedside table to find the positive tests you hid. once you locate them, you return to the living room, tossing the tests onto su-bong’s lap so he’ll finally get the message.
“still think i’m lying?” you ask bitterly, but your voice wobbles. you’re mad at yourself for letting the tears fall, silent streams seeping down your cheeks. su-bong is quiet for a moment, toying with the tests in his lap as he examines the positive signs. then, he gets up and wordlessly pulls you into a hug. he’s stiff in your arms. “holy shit.” he mumbles into your hair, clearly numb in disbelief. you’re sure the drugs don’t help. you don’t say anything and sniffle into his chest, unsure of where to even go from here. you know you want to keep the baby, but it will be complicated with su-bong. your relationship is hardly stable, and you know that’s not good, especially not now when you’re expecting a kid.
“it’ll be okay.” su-bong says after a while, though it sounds like he says it to convince himself more than to comfort you. you swallow thickly and pull away from the man, his expression still apathetic. you figure now wasn’t the best time to tell him—he’s far from sober, and can barely process things properly, especially not something as serious as this—but you had to tell him eventually.
when you wake up the next morning, the bed is empty. you check your phone, but there’s no texts from su-bong explaining his whereabouts. you try not to panic and you figure he needs time to process on his own; you know how he is.
however, over the course of the next few weeks, you’re freaking out. you haven’t heard from su-bong at all despite the countless texts and voicemails you’ve left him. you’ve had to go to every appointment alone, filling you with both embarrassment and sadness. you try to stay happy for the sake of yourself and your unborn child, but there’s a su-bong shaped void in your heart you just can’t shake. he should be here with you, but he doesn’t even have the basic human decency to send you a single text or to return a single call.
you’re getting ready to go to sleep one night when you hear the front door open. the sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin—you could’ve sworn you locked it. in fact, you’re positive you did, which can only mean one thing: su-bong used his key to get in. the unmistakable sound of his footsteps only confirms your suspicions, and you feel your heart race in both anger and excitement. you’re mad at yourself for even feeling so hopeful to hear su-bong is back, but you can’t help it. you still love him at the end of the day, even if he’s a raging asshole for leaving you all alone while pregnant. he steps into the bedroom hesitantly, leaning on the doorframe as he murmurs, “hey.”
you stand across the room from him, arms crossed over your chest as you look the man up and down. you can tell he’s high, per usual, but he doesn’t seem as far gone as he usually is. “don’t ‘hey’ me, su-bong. what the hell are you doing here?”
he scoffs, narrowing his eyes as he replies, “what do you mean? i live here, don’t i?”
you huff out a sigh of frustration at his words, hardly able to believe he can be so nonchalant about the whole ordeal. “i don’t know, do you? i haven’t heard from you in weeks, never mind seen you. do you remember you have a baby on the way, or are you too high to even think straight?” you’re livid, but you don’t want to be. you want to collapse into su-bong’s arms and tell him how much you missed him, but you know things will never be right if you give in.
how can he be okay knowing you were here all alone, scared and confused as you try to navigate this new phase of your life?
“of course i do, don’t say shit like that.” is all su-bong says, and you scoff.
“i’ve gone to every appointment alone, without you. do you know how shitty that feels?” you will yourself not to cry, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. for once, you want to see him break, just so he can feel a fraction of what it’s been like to be you these past few weeks.
“no, i don’t.” su-bong answers shortly. he averts his gaze to the floor.
“well, i do. it’s been so hard, su-bong. you couldn’t even make it to one appointment, but i’m sure you made it to the club every night, just like you always do. i’m fucking sick of it.” you sit down on the bed, running a shaky hand through your hair. you know it’s not good for you or the baby to get all worked up, but you can’t help it. su-bong always brings out this side of you, a side you didn’t even know you had—angry, toxic. you know you aren’t being irrational here, though.
“yeah? well i’m sick of you fucking nagging me all the time. i can go wherever i want.” su-bong responds angrily, beginning to raise his voice. you try to ignore the pang of hurt that eats away at your chest.
“okay, well i want you to get the fuck out of here.” you demand, keeping your tone as neutral as possible so the anger doesn’t bubble up in your stomach. your heart screams at you to let him stay, but your mind knows better. it’s clear things will always remain toxic between the two of you, and su-bong makes no effort to change that. he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before settling beside you on the edge of the bed, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. “i don’t want to.” he mumbles, eyes glued to the floor. he then looks over at you, his eyes swimming with a myriad of emotions you can’t read, and you’re momentarily rendered speechless. somewhere in his eyes, you can tell he’s sorry, but you know he’d never say it out loud.
“i don’t want you to, either.” you finally admit, though you almost kick yourself. the room is silent for a moment, and the two of you stare at each other as though all of the answers to your questions will appear out of thin air; you wish it were that easy.
you’re surprised when su-bong’s lips are suddenly on yours, gentle, yet desperate, but you quickly melt into the kiss, feeling all of the anger from the past few weeks slip away. you know he’ll have to do more than kiss you to make up for things, but for now, it’s good enough. you moan into his mouth when his hand sneaks up to your chest, squeezing your breast with just enough force to make heat rush in between your legs. he’s confident, now, smirking into your mouth as he gently pushes you back onto the bed, quickly kicking his shoes off so they can tumble into the corner. su-bong moves to hover over you, eyes soft as he grins, “you’re so hot when you’re mad.”
you roll your eyes, pushing at his chest playfully to signify your annoyance. “shut up.” he chuckles at that, then settles between your legs to tug at the bottom of your shirt, pushing it up so it rests over your breasts. su-bong places a series of gentle kisses to your stomach, working his way up to your neck to suck at the sensitive part he’s able to pinpoint every time. you want to be mad at the man, but it’s impossible, at least in the moment. he always knows exactly how to touch you. su-bong’s right hand sneaks up to toy with your clit over your shorts, eliciting a series of whimpers from your mouth.
“yeah, baby, just relax for me. i’ll make up for the lost time, okay?” su-bong purrs, tugging down your shorts to reveal your bare pussy. you’re embarrassed by how wet you already are, but su-bong says nothing before licking at your clit, his tongue expertly moving back and forth to send shockwaves through your body. you let out a moan and tangle your hand in su-bong’s hair, tugging lightly at the purple strands. he growls into you, bringing his right hand up to slip a finger inside of you as he continues to suck on your clit.
“f-fuck.” you whine, squeezing your thighs around su-bong’s head as he thrusts his finger into you. you’re so wet you can hear yourself squelch around him, and the lewdness of it all only brings you closer to your release. seeming to sense this, he slips a second finger inside of you, curling them ever so slightly to hit that perfect, spongy spot inside of you. you nearly yell at this, throwing your head back into the pillow as the coil in your stomach starts to unwind, your grip on su-bong’s hair tightening as you near your release.
“i’m gonna cum.” you whimper desperately, nearly gasping when su-bong increases the pace of both his tongue and fingers. moments later, you’re releasing into his mouth, moaning uncontrollably as your orgasm peaks. he laps up every trace, continuing to finger you until you’re writhing in his grasp. su-bong pulls out his fingers and brings them to his mouth, humming in approval as he tastes you.
“you’re so fuckin’ perfect, my girl. makin’ me remember why you’re pregnant in the first place.” su-bong growls, moving up on the bed so he hovers over you again. through his jeans, you can feel his hard member poke at your bare thigh, and you bring your hands down to unbutton his pants. “wanna feel you.” you murmur softly.
“oh, you will.” he replies darkly, though there’s still a gentleness behind his eyes. you’ve been intimate with the man many times before, clearly, but something about tonight feels different; su-bong seems different, like a flip had switched in his brain that brought him back his reality: he’s going to be a father and he needs to get his shit together.
you can feel it when you two are fucking, both completely bare, when he rolls his hips a certain way—-delicate, yet desperate. it’s almost like he’s trying to convey the words he’ll never outright say to you through his thrusts: i love you, i’m sorry, i’m here, i’ll make this work. su-bongs lips are on yours for practically the whole time, languidly moving against your own in a way so familiar, so right, and it makes the pressure build up in your core once again, your legs shaking. you pull away from his lips when you cum to throw your head back into the pillow, gripping his biceps so tightly that your fingers leave marks in their wake.
su-bong’s release follows shortly after your own, and he whines as he spills inside of you, “fuck, mama. love you so much. i’d put another kid in you right now if i could.” you try not to react too much to his words, fearing he’ll somehow regret them if you do, but you feel warmth blossom in your chest. it’s not often su-bong tells you he loves you; sure, he has on a few occasions, but it’s always been reserved for when he’s really fucked up and you’re taking care of him, when he can hardly remember he even uttered those words to you the next morning.
this feels real, genuine, in a way su-bong hasn’t been before; he may be high, sure, but he’s nowhere near the point of no return that he usually is. he seems himself enough to be sure of what he says. he collapses on the bed beside you, chest heaving with the exertion of making love to you, and lazily pulls you into him. “missed you.” is all he mutters, lightly stroking your hair as you, too, come down from your orgasm. the two of you lay there for a few minutes, blissed out, relishing in the comfort of each other’s presence as though nothing had happened between you over the past few weeks. he brings his hand down to rest on your stomach, gently stroking the bare skin there. su-bong is ever so careful with you, now, hyper aware of the presence of your unborn child, and you can tell he’s nervous to hurt you in any way.
this is especially true a few months down the line, when you’re further along in your pregnancy. you’re starting to show, now, and you can tell it makes things feel more real for su-bong. he still frequents club pentagon a few nights during the week, but when he comes home, he’s a bit more mindful of his actions, sometimes even crashing on the couch when he knows it’s too late to enter the bedroom. in secret, he performs more gigs than usual, trying to scrape together whatever cash he can get to help support you.
things aren’t perfect, though, and you know they never will be. there’s nights where he does wake you up, 4 or 5 AM when the birds are chirping, and you stomp into the living room, pissed at his irresponsibility. all you want from su-bong is for him to be clean for you and your baby, but you’re not sure if that’s possible. “do you know what time it is?” you mutter angrily, a hand on your hip and the other resting on your bump. su-bong rolls his eyes, sitting back into the couch as he murmurs, “yeah.” his indifference always pisses you off, as though he doesn’t see anything wrong with his actions.
“and you’re just now getting home from the club?” you continue to prod, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “yeah.” su-bong repeats. if it wasn’t so dark in the room, you’re sure you’d see a smirk on his stupid face, and you’re glad the lights are off. “and you think that’s okay? what, are you a teenager? you think you’re just gonna party every night while i’m here trying to sleep and take care of our baby?” su-bong sighs at your words, dragging a hand over his face. he wants to tell you why he’s been out so late, why he works his ass off until he’s ready to pass out, just to get a few extra bucks, but he doesn’t want you to worry or flip out even more.
“‘m sorry.” it comes out in a mumble, and su-bong stands up, now, towering over you. he’s careful as he pulls you into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. as mad as he wants to be, knowing he’s genuinely been trying to support you—even when it doesn’t look that way—-he knows it’s late and you shouldn’t get so worked up all of the time. ”c’mon.” he mutters softly, guiding you back to the bedroom so you can get some sleep. the two of you lay in silence, and it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep. but sleep doesn’t come to su-bong, and he stares at the ceiling, wondering how he’ll ever be a good enough father, especially when he thinks about his own. he’s trapped in his spiraling thoughts until the sun comes up, when he finally slips out of your room, careful not to wake you. before he heads out the front door, though, he stops in front of the fridge, glancing at the ultrasound image that hangs there by a magnet. without thinking, he slips the picture into his back pocket, and quietly exits your apartment.
the next time you see su-bong, you’re explaining all of the things you need to buy for the baby, and he’s aggravated. he knows he shouldn’t take it out on you, but he can’t help it. you’re already echoing the worries that have been ingrained in his head since you told him you were pregnant, and he doesn’t need a reminder.
“i started to buy some clothes, but i don’t have enough money to buy a crib or anything like that. my job reduced my hours.” you explain to su-bong, letting out a frustrated sigh. “we still need to get diapers, bottles, maybe even formula. fuck, i don’t know. it’s too much. it’s not like you’re any help.” you continue, plopping down onto the couch to rub at your temples. su-bong scowls at you, offended by your jab, and grunts, “don’t even fucking start.”
“what? am i wrong?” you fire back, snapping up your head to look at him. he fiddles with the cross around his neck, glancing around the room, desperately trying to avoid your convicting gaze.
“yeah, you are. why do you think i stay out so fuckin’ late every night?” su-bong asks suddenly, finally wanting to confess the purpose of his absence. you scoff at that, your gaze averting to the floor. “i don’t know, so you can get high and forget about your problems like you always do.” a tense silence hangs in the air like a thick fog, and su-bong tries not to snap. deep down, he knows it’s not fair to be mad at you—there’s no way you could’ve possibly known he was out trying to make money for you, and he hasn’t been a supportive baby daddy by any means. but, the lack of sleep and excessive amounts of stress he’s been facing seem to catch up to him, and he finally meets your fiery eyes.
“fuck you.” he scoffs, pushing himself off the wall to exit your apartment. su-bong feels like shit, but it doesn’t stop him from leaving. “yeah, just leave like you always do.” you yell after the man, voice trembling. you curse your hormones for making you so emotional, and try to fight back the tears that well up in your eyes, but to no avail.
you don’t hear from su-bong for the rest of the night, or the next day either. you get home from work and see a box before your front door, and it’s definitely too big for you to carry. confused, you inspect the shipping label—it must be a mistake. but to your surprise, the label reads choi su-bong. a faded logo resembling a crib decorates the box, and you nearly laugh at the sight. you’re about to fish your phone out of your back to call the man, but the door to your apartment complex slams shut, startling you. you then hear his familiar voice, “watch out, let me carry it inside.”
you’re utterly confused, but still step aside so su-bong can move the box. he notices your confusion, and explains over his shoulder, “what, you needed shit for our kid, didn’t you?”
how could he afford this? this must have cost a fortune…
you think back to your argument and feel your heart sink, guilt consuming you: he really was staying out late to help you. you try to make yourself feel better by reminding yourself of su-bong’s usual habits—hanging out at club pentagon until the early morning to get shit-faced with his friends—but your emotions get the best of you, and you’re soon sobbing outside of your apartment. you hear su-bong place the box on the floor, and he’s hesitant to round the corner, confused as to why you haven’t entered the apartment. when he sees you, though, he rushes over, wordlessly pulling you into his chest. it’s awkward—your baby bump restricts you from getting as close as you want, but the embrace is enough to comfort you anyway.
“i’m sorry.” you cry, letting your purse drop onto the floor. su-bong sighs, hating the way his chest gets tight when he sees you in distress. he wants to be mad at you, wants to push you away and never see you again so he doesn’t have to feel the rollercoaster of emotions you make him feel, but he knows he can’t. he loves you.
“‘s okay, you didn’t know.” he murmurs simply, pressing a long kiss to your temple. when you pull away from su-bong’s chest, he wipes away your stray tears with his thumb. he then places a chaste kiss on your lips and heads back to your bedroom to begin assembling the crib. it’s a start for sure, and you’re grateful for his support, even when you’ve been treating him poorly. you pray things won’t always be this way—that you two will one day be happy and argue less—but you don’t dwell on the your wishful thinking. instead, you follow him into the bedroom, watching as he tries to put the crib together.
when you reach your third trimester, you notice su-bong gets home at a decent time every night. he slips into bed with you, tugging you into his chest as best he can, and puts something random on the tv until you fall asleep. only then, when he hears your soft snores, does he allow himself to catch up on rest, too. the two of you never mention it, but you can tell he’s trying to prepare himself for when your child arrives. you know deep down, he fears your water will break when he’s not there, and he’d never forgive himself for missing out on such a crucial moment of need. su-bong tries to play it off, though, even teasingly trying to get in your pants, but you swat him away, too pregnant to even want to have sex with him.
and when your water finally does break, su-bong panics. you’re in the kitchen making dinner when you feel a gush of fluid trickle down your leg, dampening the cotton of your sweatpants. you gasp at that, startling su-bong who’s sprawled out lazily on the couch watching tv, and he jumps up as though he’s already aware of what happened—he’s been on edge about it for the past week. he’s on his feet in seconds, and scrambles over to you.
“what’s wrong?” he asks fearfully, eyes wide. you clutch your stomach instinctually, and his eyes trail down to the patch of wetness on your pantleg. he tries not to pass out. “oh god, did your water just break? are you okay?” your silence only fuels his fear, and you try not to laugh at su-bong’s distress; you’d think he’s the one about to deliver the damn baby.
“yes, i’m fine. let’s just go to the hospital, now.” you say between grit teeth, feeling your first contraction twist through your abdomen. you’re nearly rendered breathless at the painful sensation. su-bong swallows thickly, then nods, rushing to your bedroom to grab the baby bag you prepared before approaching you hesitantly. he takes a gentle hold of your arm and guides you out the front door, then carefully assists you down the stairs. once outside, su-bong aids your hobbling body into the passenger seat of your car, ensuring to secure your seatbelt before rushing over to the driver’s seat. it’s now or never.
su-bong almost wishes he could pop a pill right now to ease his out-of-control nerves, but he stops himself with a deep inhale. weeks prior, he made a promise to himself he’d stop doing drugs once your baby was born, and he refused to give up on the goal already. he knows you need him more than ever right now, and despite his own stress, he won’t cop out and let you down. not yet, at least, but hopefully not ever.
so, for now, he tries not to crash as he drives to the hospital, frequently throwing worried glances in your direction every time you gasp and moan in pain. he knows there’s a lot he needs to work on in himself in order to be the best father he can be to your child, but this is a start.
・❥・ summary: getting cast in the second season of squid game had brought many things but mostly a never ending crush on Seunghyun except he was hard to crack until the after party came around.
・❥・word count: 2.7k
・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. unprotected sex. swearing. alcohol mentions.
・❥・authors note: hi this was a request i got a little while ago and had the inspiration to write so <3
The string lights lit up across the venue cast a dim glow overhead, giving a warm feeling against the ever-approaching evening. People walked about chatting idly with drinks in their hands, the odd few dancing along to the music that was echoing through the speakers. It was just the right way to celebrate the end of another incredible season of Squid Game. One that you had the honour of starring in. When the role first came to you, there had been doubts about whether you could really pull it off. Everyone in that show was so incredibly talented but you’d only had a few acting jobs under your belt. Your talent was music – currently charting at the top with each song you released. Acting hadn’t been on your bucket list, but your company had insisted it was another good avenue to get your name out there. The first few jobs had been minor roles, nothing too daunting but Squid Game was the number one show in the world. This was on a global stage, filled with some of Korea’s most famous actors. It had been your friend Jo Yuri who had convinced you to take it. The idea of working with one of your closest friends sealed the deal for you. At least that way you’d feel more comfortable.
What you didn’t expect was Choi Seunghyun to be your scene partner.
There wasn’t a single person growing up who didn’t know BigBang. He had been one of the most famous faces in Korea until everything had happened. Everyone knew what he’d gone through – it had been plastered all over the media. You didn’t blame the guy for going into hiding for the past few years. If you had been in his shoes, you’d have done the same. It was a shame, though. Seunghyun was one of the most talented people in the world. The fact his name had been dragged through the mud and he’d been made to feel like he wasn’t worth anything anymore wasn’t okay to you. But, it had taken you by surprise that very first day when you’d seen him on set.
He had stood there, on set, by himself, rubbing his hands on his pants nervously. His eyes had mesmerised you the second he’d looked over at you. His handsome face had occupied most of your dreams since that day. His deep voice had fast become your favourite sound, plaguing your thoughts late at night when you were alone. It had started out as a silly, little crush but the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to actually like him. His stupid little jokes, the way he was always so focused on getting his scenes right, how he would always help you out with advice whenever he could – he really was one of the kindest people you’d ever met. So, you’d started flirting with him but… he hadn’t really noticed. But, you were relentless. Everyone around you had noticed, teasing you about your feelings when he wasn’t around. Maybe it was for the best he hadn’t noticed. He was a good friend, someone that you could depend on so why ruin that?
Nah, screw that. You wanted him. Wanted him bad.
“He hasn’t even looked at me once,” you whined, checking yourself out in the mirror, reapplying your lipstick. You’d ventured off into the bathrooms with Yuri needing some girl time. “I’m telling you, he doesn’t see me that way. Maybe this is a lost cause.”
“Please. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. He just needs a bit of… encouragement,” Yuri smiled. She was perched on the counter, legs dangling as she spoke.
“This is the last time I’m trying, then I’m done.”
“Best succeed then.”
Yuri grinned at you, leading you out of the bathroom. She spotted Siwan, bidding you goodbye and heading towards him leaving you to scout for Seunghyun. It took a minute but you finally spotted him donned in his pink sweater, glasses on his face and hat covering his probably perfectly styled hair. You took a moment, just to admire him, then came to your senses. Mostly because he’d looked over in your direction, two red solo cups in his hand. Before you realised, he was walking in your direction.
“You looked like you could use a drink,” he said, holding one of the cups out to you. With a muttered ‘thanks’ you took it, swigging the drink back quickly. “Thirsty?”
“Very,” you mumbled, lifting your eyes up to meet his brown ones. Whether he understood the double meaning behind it or not, you weren’t sure but he raised one of those perfect eyebrows at you. Deciding to be a little bolder, you placed the now empty cup on the table beside you. “Want to dance?”
Seunghyun stood in thought for a moment, slowly nodding his head. That was all the consent you needed. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him onto the dancefloor, strategically placing him behind you. He’d put his own cup down as you’d been dragging him off, his now free hands resting on your hips, almost hesitantly. Seunghyun was so respectful. It was just one of the many qualities that made him so likeable but right now, you needed him to loosen up. So, you swayed your hips to the beat of the music, keeping a distance between the two of you at first, so as not to scare him away. As the song progressed, you felt him relax a little, his grip on your hips tightening a little more, the space between you slowly growing smaller.
“You really don’t quit, huh?” Seunghyun spoke into your ear. So he had noticed.
“Nope. When I see something I want, I don’t quit until I get it,” you turned your head slightly to look up at him with a small smirk on your face.
“And, what exactly do you want?”
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
Now, you were fully pressed against him, grinding your ass against his crotch. You felt his fingers digging into your hips followed by a sharp intake of breath from him. The fabric of your dress was bunched in his fingers, he was barely holding on by a thread. His breath was hot on your neck as he leaned forward, his voice a low whisper.
“Do you know how hard it is to keep resisting you?”
“Then, don’t.”
You spun around to look at his face. The way he was looking at you made your heart skip a beat. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the whole room, like he wanted to eat you up right then and there. But, there was also hesitation, reluctance. So, you reached up on your tip-toes, your lips inches from his. Seunghyun leaned forward, his lips almost brushing yours before he caught himself and pulled back. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” You asked, not tearing your eyes away from his.
“I’d only bring you down with me,” he smiled sadly.
“I’d like you to go down on me,” you teased, bringing your hand up to brush his cheek. “In all seriousness, Seunghyun, I like you. I like you a lot. You know I do and… I think you like me, too.”
“I do.”
“Then stop denying yourself every bit of happiness that could come your way. I know things have been hard for you but they don’t always have to be. Let yourself have some fun. Even if it's just for one night.”
His arm encircled around your waist, pulling you against him. You watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips, then back to your eyes. It was like he was asking permission. You gave a slight nod of your head and that was it. His lips were on yours. Slow and careful. He didn’t deepen it but you felt his hand slide up your back to tangle in your hair, holding you in place. When he pulled back, he spoke a few simple words that had your heart racing. “Let's go find somewhere more private.”
His hand was quickly in yours, pulling you off the dancefloor and away from all the music and people. Seunghyun’s eyes were scanning all over, looking for somewhere to go. There weren’t that many rooms in the venue but he did eventually find what looked to be a small meeting room that luckily was empty. He pushed the handle, walking inside and let the door close behind the two of you. The door clicking shut was the only sound in the empty room. Seunghyun stood with his back against the door, you in front of him. Neither moved until you couldn’t take the tension anymore. In one swift movement, your lips were on his. This time was different from the kiss back on the dancefloor. It was desperate, passionate. His lips moved against yours in a frenzy, his tongue slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. Your hand moved up to grab the hat off his head, throwing it to the side so you could thread your fingers through his hair. It was as soft as you’d imagined, you couldn’t help tugging on it which only caused Seunghyun to groan deeply into your mouth. So he liked it when you were rough? Noted.
Seunghyun bunched your dress up around your waist, his fingers trailing slowly along the inside of your thigh until he reached between your legs. His movements were halted momentarily when you popped the button on his pants, pushing your hand inside his boxers. His hips involuntarily bucked into your hand as you wrapped your hand around his hardening cock.
“So worked up,” you whispered into his ear, trailing your lips down his jaw to the nape of his neck. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?”
“Too long,” he groaned as your hand started to move against him. Slowly at first then you began to speed up, feeling him harden in your hand.
Your thumb brushed against his tip, his hips bucking into your hand. In that moment, he seemed to find himself again, his own fingers pushing your panties to the side to run his fingers along your soaked folds. He took his time, eliciting every moan he could from you, figuring out what you liked. When his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles, he knew he had you as putty in his hands. Two of his fingers pushed inside you, pumping into you with expertise, matching the pace of your hand that was now rapidly running up and down his length. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and he couldn’t embarrass himself like that so he reluctantly pushed himself from you, his fingers leaving you.
“Seunghyun,” you pouted but you didn’t have time to say much else because he was pulling your dress up off your head soon followed by his own clothes as he maneuvered the both of you towards the small couch that situated against one of the bland walls of the meeting room. He threw you down onto it, climbing on top of you. His mouth was on yours, nipping at your bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. You smiled against his lips, fingers back in his hair. His own hand cradled your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. His hips were moving against yours slowly driving you crazy.
“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled against your lips.
“I want you to fuck me,” you said breathlessly, hips moving against his. “Please, Seunghyun. I want you to fuck me so hard, make me yours.”
He groaned deeply, your words lighting a fire inside him, a far cry from the hesitant Seunghyun you’d dragged on the dancefloor a little bit ago. He reached between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock, notching it at your entrance then with one single thrust, he was inside you.
“Yes!” You cried out, your nails raking down his back, no doubt leaving scratches. “God, yes.”
But, Seunghyun didn’t move, not yet. Instead, he grabbed your hands, threading his fingers through yours and holding them above your head. Who knew he could be so dominating? It was just another thing to add to the endless things that made him so damn attractive. He pulled his hips back, until just his tip remained inside then thrust back in, setting a quick, hard pace from the get go. You could feel every drag of his length inside you, quickly sending you towards your first orgasm. Were you really that deprived that only a few thrusts were sending you hurtling already?
Seunghyun knew, of course he did, he could feel the way your walls were tightening against him so he sped up. Harder, faster. “Is this what you wanted? Is this what you’ve been begging for all these months you’ve been chasing me?”
“Yes, fuck, Seunghyun. I’m…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence because Seunghyun had angled his hips, hitting that special spot inside you and sent you flying over the edge. You cried out his name, Seunghyun having to grit his teeth so he didn’t finish right then and there.
He slowed his pace slightly, letting you recover. “Back with me?”
You nodded.
“Good,” he smirked. He pulled out of you with much reluctance, almost regretting it but he had a plan. He sat up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap. You understood the assignment immediately, straddling him, your legs on either side of him as you sank down onto him. His hands flew to your hips, guiding you as you set the pace. You rested your hands on his shoulders for stability, Seunghyun’s lips kissing along your shoulders. It was quick and messy but perfect.
His hips moved up to meet your thrusts, driving himself deeper inside you. Your pace faltered, Seunghyun taking the lead once again but barely. He was barely holding on himself. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”
“Cum for me, Seunghyun. Let go,” you whispered into his ear and that was all he needed. He held you in place as he finally came, emptying himself inside you. It triggered another orgasm from you, your head falling onto his shoulder as you moaned his name once again.
The room was silent apart from your heavy breathing. Seunghyun had his eyes closed, face nuzzled into your neck, his hand running along your back in a soothing manner. Neither were sure how many minutes had passed before he finally pulled back, both his hands cradling your face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”
“I’m fucking great,” he laughed, running his thumb along your cheekbone. “Maybe I should’ve caved a long time ago.”
“It would’ve made things easier for me. I was ready to give up.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t…” he paused for a moment, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’ve liked you from the second we met but… I couldn’t bring myself to…”
You pressed your finger to his lips. “I don’t want to hear you say another bad thing about yourself. Instead, how about you take me out for dinner sometime.”
“I can do that,” he smiled. “Tomorrow?”
“Eager, aren’t we?”
“Shutup.”
He kissed you again with a laugh. “Come on, we should probably get back out there before they send a search party for us.”
With a reluctant grumble, you pulled off him, getting to your feet. Once you were both fully dressed and relatively presentable, the two of you made your way back out into the party. However, it didn’t go unnoticed by Yuri that you were now wearing the hat Seunghyun had first been sporting. She shot a wink in your direction while Seunghyun grabbed you both a drink. Immediately, he was back by your side, his hand now resting on your lower back, keeping you close to him.
It was taking everything you had not to drag him back off to that meeting room, the feeling of his hand on your body again bringing back a fresh wave of desire but that could wait. You did have dinner tomorrow after all.
The office felt different after dark. No ringing phones, no chatter of colleagues—just the quiet thrum of air vents and the glow of the city bleeding through the blinds. You weren’t supposed to be here. Not with him. Not like this.
But Seunghyun was waiting, leaning against his desk as though he had all the time in the world. The way he looked at you made your chest tighten—his eyes sharp, watchful, carrying the weight of every secret you’d shared in this room.
“You’re reckless,” he said at last, his voice low, even. “Smiling with Daehyung like that… as if I wouldn’t notice.”
Your pulse spiked. There it was—that edge in his tone, the unspoken claim. He was jealous. And you hated that you liked it.
“I wasn’t—” The words came out weaker than you intended. He cut them short by taking your wrist, his touch firm but not rough, pulling you into the circle of his presence. The space between you shrank until his knees brushed your thighs.
“You were,” he insisted, softer now, as though savoring your nearness. His mouth dipped close, his breath grazing your lips. “But you’re here. With me. That’s all that matters.”
The silence that followed was thick with temptation. His fingers trailed along your waist, skimming fabric, tracing the curve of your hip like he was memorizing you again. It was slow, deliberate, a tease that made your breath falter.
“Do you have any idea,” he whispered, his lips hovering against your jawline, “how hard it is to sit across from you in those meetings? To watch you laugh, talk, act like you’re not mine?”
Your throat tightened at the possessive edge in his words. Before you could reply, his lips grazed your skin—just the faintest touch, enough to unravel your composure.
“Seunghyun…” you breathed, clutching his shirt, knuckles white as you pulled him closer.
That was all it took. His restraint snapped. His mouth claimed yours with urgency, no patience, no hesitation. The kiss was deep and consuming, a collision of want and frustration sharpened by the secrecy of it all.
Your back hit the desk, scattering papers across the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet office, a stark reminder of how close you were to being discovered. Your heart raced faster, each beat a warning, each kiss a dare.
His hands explored with purpose—up your spine, along your waist, grounding you while pulling you further under. Every movement carried the thrill of danger, the promise that this moment could vanish if anyone opened that door.
“Someone could walk in,” you whispered against his mouth, the words trembling more from desire than fear.
Seunghyun chuckled, dark and low, brushing his lips over your ear. “That’s what makes you tremble like this, isn’t it? The risk.”
You didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. Because it was true—the danger only made every touch sharper, every kiss more intoxicating.
His teeth grazed your lower lip, pulling a soft sound from you before his tongue soothed the sting. His hand slid up, cupping your face with surprising gentleness as if to remind you that beneath the fire, there was something softer, something that belonged only to him.
And then—
“Seunghyun?”
The voice froze you in place. Daehyung.
Your blood turned to ice as the door creaked open an inch, spilling a thin line of light into the office.
“I just wanted to let you know the final report is on your desk,” Daehyung called, his tone casual, unaware. “I’ll be gone for the night. Need me to go over anything before I leave?”
Your lips parted in panic, but Seunghyun pressed a finger gently against your mouth, his dark eyes locking with yours. Be quiet.
You could barely breathe. Daehyung was right there, on the other side of the door.
But Seunghyun didn’t stop. His hand slid under the hem of your blouse, his thumb drawing slow circles against your skin, soothing and torturous all at once. His other hand gripped your thigh, holding you in place, daring you to make a sound.
Your body betrayed you—heat flooding your veins, your pulse hammering in your throat—as you clung to his shirt, praying your knees wouldn’t give out.
“No, Daehyung,” Seunghyun answered smoothly, his voice steady even as his fingers traced fire along your skin. “I’ll review it tomorrow. Go home. Rest.”
There was a pause. For a terrifying moment, you thought Daehyung would step inside. But then footsteps retreated down the hall, and the door clicked softly shut.
You exhaled a shaky breath, but Seunghyun didn’t let you go. His mouth brushed your ear as he whispered, low and certain:
“You’re perfect when you’re quiet like that.”
Then, as if nothing had happened, he stepped back, straightening his tie, smoothing his sleeves. Composed. Controlled. The perfect boss again.
But before he left, he looked back once, eyes glinting with a promise only you could read.
“Try to act normal when you see him tomorrow,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Though after tonight… I doubt you’ll manage it.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving you breathless, trembling, and desperately wanting more.
warnings: successful!thanos au, smut, unprotected sex, oral, cheating, spanking, biting, choking, fingering, manhandling, lots of vaping, pain kink, mask kink (ghostface), name calling, voyeurism-ish (kink?), cocky!thanos, sex tape, lots of dirty talk, some moments of fluff. if I missed any, i can only apologize.
note: halloween is here seven months early! i got carried away again — this is 11.4k words. i just really like thanos and ghostface. and maybe the boyfriend is very loosely based on a real person, maybe he isn’t. mind your business. also if there are any typos i’m sorry, but i read over it like 100 times before posting, please just enjoy.
———————
You’d known Su-bong before Thanos. You met through mutual friends and immediately hit it off due to your similar interests. You became inseparable until he started spending more time with his entourage, and the Thanos persona began to form. For a while, you thought that the two of you would have made a good couple until Su-bong’s ego grew worse.
You met your current boyfriend, Shota, on a business trip to Tokyo. He helped you find your hotel when you were lost, in exchange for your phone number. He was kind and funny, so you didn’t see the harm in giving him your number. Six months into the long-distance relationship, you’ve grown to care for him, even though your opposing schedules keep you apart most days.
When you started dating Shota, there was a distinct change in the way Su-bong acted towards you. He was even cockier than you thought possible, flaunting his wealth and good fortune at every opportunity. Shota didn’t like him, and suggested that you spend less time with him, but you assured your boyfriend that Su-bong was just growing into his fame and needed friends to keep him grounded.
After Su-bong’s album went platinum, he bought a secluded, oversized home on the Han River. He’d always fantasized about having a beautiful home with more space than he knew what to do with. Having grown up watching his favorite West Coast rappers throw lavish house parties in their million dollar mansions, the ink was barely dry on the house deed before he started planning his first celebration: a Halloween party.
He hired a party planner to decorate and invite influencers that he’s never met before, all in the interest of growing his brand. You struggled with the decision to attend the party or not, knowing that you likely wouldn’t know most of the people, but Halloween was your favorite holiday and you wanted to dress up with your boyfriend.
Standing near the fireplace of Su-bong’s living room, watching a group of a hundred strangers dancing, was not the way you expected the party to go. Shota had an event in Japan that ran late and had not yet arrived, which left you as a sexy Little Red Riding Hood without a Big Bad Wolf. You were cold and a little embarrassed, hoping that Shota would show up soon.
Su-bong stands with a friend at the top of the steps by his kitchen. His Ghostface mask is pulled back from his face, resting on top of his head so he can hit his vape. You watch him nod as his friend speaks, but his eyes are scanning the room. You assume he’s in search of a woman to annoy for the night, so you look away, glancing down at your phone to check the time. 9:30. It’s still early, but your boyfriend should be here by now.
You look back towards Su-bong to get a better view of his costume. Beyond the mask, he’s not the traditional Ghostface, but more relaxed. A hoodie, jeans, gloves, and boots — all black. He didn’t ordinarily dress in muted colors, but loved to be more vibrant, that way people would pay attention to him. With this costume, he almost blends in, if not for the strands of purple hair peeking from under the hood.
When Su-bong locks eyes with you suddenly, it’s as though he felt you staring. You try to give him a friendly smile, as you normally would, but you find it harder to do. Something about seeing him dressed this way stokes the fire within you that you thought had long been snuffed out.
Su-bong smirks slowly, taking another hit from his vape before he adjusts the mask over his face again. He pulls his hood up, tilting his head to the side as he still watches you from across the room. When he carefully takes the three steps down to the living room, you break your gaze from him. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with the former attraction you had for him.
It wasn’t something you’d felt since you started dating Shota. Mostly, you had to force yourself to stop thinking of Su-bong in that way, but also you really cared for Shota. Tonight, however, with Su-bong dressed like Ghostface, you feel a sheen of sweat beginning to form.
Why the fuck do you like how he’s dressed?
You suddenly feel hot, and need some fresh air so you maneuver around the crowd to slip out the door to the garden. You cross to the railing, leaning against it to stare out at the river in the darkness. You’re able to take a few deep breaths and let the cool breeze blow across your heated skin, calming your nerves.
“Well, you look good enough to eat.” The voice is muffled by a mask, and briefly you’re confused as to who might be standing behind you, until they speak again. “Out here all alone in the night, you must be waiting for your Big Bad Wolf.”
“Fuck off, Su-bong.” You cock your arm back to elbow him in the stomach, causing him to let out a grunt that he quickly turns into a laugh. He steps past you so he can lean against the railing in front of you now, undoubtedly smirking behind his Ghostface mask.
“Did you leave your little boyfriend in Japan tonight?” he asks, looking around as if he really expects to locate him nearby.
“Little? He’s bigger than you.”
“Not where it counts.”
“Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”
“This is more fun,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders when he turns his head back to you. “It’s so easy to get under your skin.” You sigh and roll your eyes, leaning your elbow against the railing.
“I’m surprised you let everyone wear their shoes in your new house,” you say, attempting to change the subject to something more normal.
“I hired cleaners to come tomorrow,” he says, with a small laugh, and you drop your gaze to the ground. “You can’t even look at me right now. It’s the mask, isn’t it?” You turn back to him, staring straight at his masked face with a shrug.
“I’m looking at you, Su-bong,” you say, blandly, although he’s right — you find it difficult to look at him without your mind creeping into uncharted territory. Su-bong tugs the mask off of his face, settling it on top of his head, the smirk on his face almost too smug.
“I saw you staring before,” he says, hitting his vape. “Is the difference that I’m standing so close to you right now?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” he quirks his eyebrows, amused. “So, this doesn’t bother you?” He takes a couple of steps towards you, slow and deliberate, until there’s only about a foot between your bodies.
“Su-bong,” you say, pressing your hand to his chest to push him away, but you find yourself not trying too hard to stop him.
“I’ve never seen you wear something this short before,” he continues, ignoring you as his fingers begin to play with the hem of your skirt. “Did Little Red Riding Hood wear fishnets and a corset in the story? I don’t remember anything about her being a slut.”
Your mouth feels dry, your breath hard to catch as Su-bong speaks. You always called him a mouthpiece because he was never stuck on what to say in any given situation, but you’d never experienced this. Your instinct as someone who has a boyfriend is to tell him you’re not interested, but the nagging urges that have for him seemingly resurfaced are complicating things. You wonder how he manages to be tuned in to what your turn-ons are.
Without your protests, Su-bong’s fingers start to toy with the tulle under your skirt, creeping closer and closer to touching your thighs. Even with gloves on, the sensation of Su-bong’s hands on you makes you tense with anticipation. Your phone suddenly vibrating in your hand snaps you out of your trance quickly, and you look down at the screen to see your boyfriend’s name.
“Uh-oh, Shooter’s calling,” Su-bong teases. You slap his hand away from your skirt, your face flushing in both arousal and embarrassment. You take a few steps away from Su-bong so he won’t be able to listen to your phone call.
“Hey, babe,” you answer the call, keeping your voice low. “Where are you? Did you get lost?”
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, his voice tired. “I’m still at Haneda. My…flight was delayed.”
“Oh,” you say, dropping your shoulders.
“I’m not sure how much longer it will be. I guess I should have taken the train, like you suggested.” You don’t reply, your disappointment getting the better of you. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you had the costumes ready, and you were really excited.”
“It’s okay,” you mutter.
You feel yourself getting annoyed at how his tone of voice sounds disinterested. You’d like to blame it on how tired he likely is from work, but you know he doesn’t care for Su-bong either, and would come up with anything to avoid seeing him. Sometimes, you’d like to agree that Su-bong can be a bit too much, but you were ready to put that aside for the sake of Halloween.
“I’m sure you’ll have more fun without me there,” Shota presses. “I’m tired, and wouldn’t be good company.”
“What am I without my Big Bad Wolf?”
It feels childish for you to guilt trip him like this, especially since it isn’t his fault that his flight is delayed. Still, you’re upset after you had been so excited for the weeks leading up to the party. And you hope that having Shota with you would calm the reawakened feelings for Su-bong.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Shota says, and his detached tone finally pushes you from disappointed to pissed off.
“Great,” you reply, flatly. “I’ll see later, I guess.”
You quickly hang up the call before he has the opportunity to say anything else. You clench your phone in your hand, willing it to break to get out your frustration, but you hear the crackling of Su-bong’s vape behind you, bringing you to your senses for a moment.
“He’s not coming?” You’d swear there was a brief flash of your old friend in the way he speaks, but it’s quickly overshadowed by Su-bong walking up behind you and leaning in towards your ear. “I know what will take your mind off of it,” he whispers. “Dancing. You used to love dancing…I bet Shooter doesn’t know the way you and I used to dance together.”
You picture the times you and Su-bong would hang out at clubs, drinking and dancing the night away. You were both fond of slow jams on nights where the drinks were plenty, and you would grind against Su-bong without a second thought. There were nights where you would feel him getting hard, and you were sure if he asked you to go home with him, you wouldn’t hesitate, but neither of you ever made the jump.
“C’mon, baby,” Su-bong smiles. “For old time’s sake.”
“Dancing sounds great,” you grit, turning abruptly to reenter the house, not waiting for Su-bong.
You shove through the crowd that fills the living room finding a spot where you can begin to sway on your own to the music. Su-bong slinks towards you, watching the way your body moves as if he’s fighting the urge to pounce on you. Your gaze finds him, inviting him closer towards you — he smirks and pulls the mask over his face. Su-bong creeps closer, catching you by your waist so he can keep your bodies close together as you both move to the music. You press your hands to his chest softly, trying to mostly avoid looking at Su-bong, though you‘re certain he’s locked onto you behind the eyes of the mask.
“I know you’re pissed at Shooter,” he says suddenly, his grip loose on your hips, but firm enough to keep you against him. “I know a way that we could really make him jealous. We could sneak up to my room and take a few pictures. I’ve got a king size bed.”
“It matches your king size attitude,” you retort, and you know it sounds stupid, but you have to say something so he doesn’t know the impact he’s beginning to have on you.
“A lot about me is king size, señorita,” Su-bong answers. “If you’d rather something more public, the sofa is right there and I’m sure the influencers would love a livestream opportunity. A little slut like you, ready to do anything to keep me happy, you’ll go viral in seconds.”
“You’re just full of ideas tonight,” you mutter, hoping he doesn’t notice the effect his words are having on you.
“You don’t remember that you told me all of this?” he smirks. “I’ve got a great memory.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been telling me for years about all the shit you’re into,” he says, pulling you by your hips so you’re snug against him. “How you love a man to be dominant, how you like being called names…how much you love Ghostface.” He laughs at the last part, lifting the mask from his face so you can see his eyes. “That’s only a few, but I remember everything you told me,” he smirks. “And I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to give you what you want.”
“Why?” you ask. “That’s uncharacteristically considerate of you.” Su-bong laughs, hitting his vape.
“I like a woman who isn’t afraid to get nasty for me.”
“Good to know it’s purely selfish.”
“Oh, do you need me to be more generous?” Su-bong asks, pulling his mask over his face again. “Do you need me to tell you how fucking hot you look tonight? And how I want to drag you up to my bedroom to fuck you until you’re screaming my name?”
“I have a boyfriend,” you say, maybe trying to convince yourself more than Su-bong.
“Shooter’s boring. I bet he doesn’t spank you. Remember when you told me how wet that gets you?”
The memories begin to flow into your mind again. You remember several nights with Su-bong where conversations drifted to sex. You always felt comfortable about the things you were into, and you didn’t mind sharing with your friend. Maybe there was a part of you that hoped one day he would take you in the ways you described, but he never did.
“You told me one time that you get turned on by being touched in public,” Su-bong interrupts your thoughts, his hand delving between your thighs.
“Su-bong,” you mutter, finding yourself trembling in anticipation, waiting to feel the material of his glove rubbing against you.
“Were you hoping to get fucked tonight? Is that why you wore this skirt and fucking thigh high stockings? And poor Shooter isn’t here to see it.” Su-bong slips two fingers past the side of your panties, touching your slick skin. “Or feel it,” he continues, dragging his gloved fingers through your folds, brushing over your clit. “Or…taste it.”
Su-bong begins to breathe a little harder, muffled against the mask. He bumps his head against yours, nuzzling so he can lean closer to your ear.
“I’ll bet you’d look really pretty in my bed…face down, ass up…dripping down your thighs and onto my designer sheets.”
“Jesus Christ,” you snap back to your senses and shove Su-bong away from you.
You can’t bring yourself to say anything else, knowing your voice won’t be strong enough to sound assertive. The first thing that comes to your mind is putting as much distance between yourself and Su-bong as you can before your self-restraint disappears entirely. Dropping your gaze to the ground, you shove through the crowd and make your way towards the bathroom.
Much to your annoyance, the small bathroom near the kitchen is occupied, so you quickly storm up the steps in hopes that one of the guest bathrooms is available. As you walk, you get the sense that you’re being watched, so you quicken your pace, slipping into the bathroom and slamming the door shut to engage the lock.
“Calm down,” you mutter quietly, stepping in front of the mirror to look at your reflection. “He’s just trying to fuck with your head. He’s an asshole.” You straighten out the tulle of your skirt and turn the taps on to splash some cool water on your face.
You should leave. That’s the best option at this point. Su-bong has worn down your resolve and you’re one dirty word away from falling into his bed. There’s no way you could do that to Shota because you care for him too much. Even with your current frustration towards him, he’s still your boyfriend and you’re not looking to cheat on him with one of your friends. That solves it: you’re going home.
When you open the door to exit the bathroom, your heart leaps into your throat at the sight of Ghostface bracing his hands on either side of the doorway. He tilts his head to the side, making it obvious that he’s sizing you up. You know that it’s Su-bong, but the sight excites you more than it rightfully should.
You shouldn’t play along; you should stick with your plan and just go home. But Shota never wants to play games like this. It took weeks of begging to get him to agree to the Big Bad Wolf costume, and he still managed to wiggle out of the obligation. Sometimes you wished he would like to have a little more fun. Sometimes you wish he was more like Su-bong.
You quickly try to close the bathroom door, but Su-bong shoves it open, forcing his way into the room with you. He locks the door, and spins back towards you, hoisting you up onto the counter. The way he cocks his head to the side, the empty black eyes of the mask hiding him from your view, it makes your stomach twist in an array of emotions — excitement and anticipation at the forefront, followed closely by embarrassment for how much this turns you on.
“Why’d you run away from me?” Su-bong’s voice, though muffled by the mask, is deep and dangerous. “Are you scared of me, baby?”
“No.” You try to sound firm and confident but even with one word, your voice falls short. You’re sure Su-bong smirks behind his mask.
“Then what is it? Is there something you’re hiding from me instead?”
You’re too caught up in the moment to notice that Su-bong removed his gloves until you feel his hands on your knees, spreading your thighs apart. As he slots between your legs, you look down at his hands, nails adorned with black polish, creeping under your skirt. When he touches your lacy panties, finding them soaked through, he shakes his head, tsking at you.
“Are you that fucking easy?” Su-bong asks, leaning closer towards you to press his masked face directly against your cheek. Your face heats up and tears sting at your eyes, finding yourself overwhelmed with arousal and a little bit of guilt. “You really do get off on this mask thing, don’t you? What is it? Does being afraid turn you on?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter, truly unsure of what you enjoy about this. He keeps his head against yours as his fingers twist the fabric of your panties so he can rip them.
“These will just slow us down, baby,” he breathes, as the lace tears in his grasp. You whine, your thighs tightening around his waist in pure instinct — with him pressed against you, the bulge in his jeans is obvious, pressing to your wetness with enough friction to make your body ache.
“Su-bong,” you whine, your voice so needy, and you’re sure that Su-bong grins in delight behind his mask. He pries your thighs away from his hips and gets on his knees on the floor, pushing the tulle of your skirt away so he can finish ripping your panties from you.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, angling his head towards you, eyes still hidden behind his mask. You don’t realize how hard your breaths are coming out at first, but then you can hear them, echoing in the confined space of the bathroom.
You shake your head, so slight it could have looked like a twitch, but Su-bong accepts this as the confirmation he was waiting for. His head moves closer between your thighs until you feel the curved edge of the mask’s nose drag over your clit. Your body lurches in surprise, already so on edge from just talking, and Su-bong chuckles between your legs.
“Easy, baby. Don’t get too excited.”
Su-bong’s hands splay across your inner thighs so he can part your fold with his thumbs. You hear him hum softly, almost an appreciative sound, something that comes deep from his chest. He brushes his thumb over your clit, looking up at you to watch your reaction — your hips edge forward, silently begging for more.
Suddenly, your phone buzzes on the counter at your side. Against the marble countertops, the sound is much louder, echoing through the small room.
“I’ll bet that’s Shooter,” Su-bong mutters, his finger now circling around your entrance. “He feels bad for leaving you all by yourself, Little Red. Out here, where anybody could just…eat you up.”
Su-bong pulls the mask to the top of his head again, and trails the tip of his tongue over your clit, so softly that he’s barely there. At the same time, he pushes his finger into you, to the first knuckle. You let out a groan, knocking your head back against the mirror, and Su-bong chuckles, amused by how twisted up you are from so little touching.
Your phone buzzes. It feels like it’s louder this time, or maybe it’s the way your head is reeling, you can’t be sure. Su-bong teases your clit with his tongue again, applying the same amount of pressure, quick and ghostlike. You moan louder, spreading your legs.
“Goddamn,” you groan while Su-bong pushes his finger a little deeper into you.
There’s a knock at the door, and someone says your name. Your eyes go wide when you realize it’s Shota. Su-bong laughs quietly, not stopping himself from fingering you slowly. You clamp your hand over your mouth to silence the moan that threatens at your throat, hoping that maybe Shota will leave. The doorknob rattles, and you feel the panic set in.
“Hey, babe, are you okay? Namgyu said he saw you come up here, and he thought you weren’t feeling well.” You shoot a glare at Su-bong to curse his friend for sending your boyfriend after you, but Su-bong only smirks, eyes on you as he leans in to tongue you again. “Babe?” Shota’s voice comes again and now your phone buzzing for a third time against the countertop definitely gives you away.
“Fuck,” you breathe against your hand, finally shoving Su-bong away by his shoulders, so he quietly tumbles to sit on the floor. He covers his mouth to laugh silently, while you attempt to straighten out your skirt. “Yeah, Shooter, I’m here,” you call out, watching Su-bong hit his vape. ”Gimme just a second.”
You gesture to the shower, directing Su-bong to hide so you can open the door, but he doesn’t move. You give him a pleading look, hoping that he won’t do anything stupid. Finally, he rolls his eyes and pulls his mask down again as he stands and climbs into the shower, out of view. You spare one more glance at your reflection, making sure you look presentable before you open the door to face your boyfriend.
“I thought you were stuck in Tokyo,” you say, flatly.
“I was trying to surprise you,” Shota says, his tone unconvincing, like he practiced what he wanted to say.
“Yeah, great surprise.” You push past Shota, pulling the door shut as you make your way down the hall. You want to find somewhere out of view of the bathroom to allow Su-bong the opportunity to sneak out without being seen by Shota, so you descend the steps and head to the kitchen.
“Babe,” Shota calls out, trying to be heard over the noise of the party, but you pretend you don’t hear him, grabbing a water from the fridge. “I’m sorry,” Shota says, once he reaches you.
“If you didn’t want to come to the party, Shota, you could have just said it.”
“Okay, I didn’t want to come,” he says. “You’re right. But I did show up. I’m here now.” You take a sip of your water, staring at Shota as you wait for him to continue. “I don’t like Thanos,” he groans. “He’s an asshole. I don’t know why you’re friends with him. I didn’t feel like coming all the way out here for his party.”
“It wasn’t for his party; it was for me.”
“I didn’t think of it—”
“So, you lied to me instead,” you respond. “Were you at my apartment, pretending you were still at the airport?” Shota glances around for a moment, as if he doesn’t want to tell you the truth even if you already figured it out. “You showed up now…without the costume—”
“I don’t like costumes,” he interrupts, shrugging his shoulders.
“I’d be less pissed off if you would have told me the truth,” you say, looking towards the partygoers to find Su-bong talking to a girl you’ve never seen before
“You’re right,” Shota says. “I shouldn’t have lied about it.”
Shota continues to talk but you’re too focused on Su-bong and this random girl. Why would he be flirting with some stranger when his head was just between your thighs? No, of course you know why he’s doing this — his ego. He needs to be the one in control of every situation.
You watch the way Su-bong leans in towards the girl, whispering something in her ear. As he speaks, she giggles and Su-bong’s eyes immediately find yours, like he could feel you staring. His gaze is devious, and you feel enveloped by it, stuck and you can’t look away; it’s like he’s daring you to do something. The girl keeps talking to Su-bong, just like Shota still talks to you but you are locked in with Su-bong, neither of you really listening to your conversations.
Su-bong takes a hit off of his vape, finally breaking eye contact with you so he can talk to the girl again, making her laugh immediately. You clench your jaw, wondering what he could have said that was so funny.
“Are you even listening to me?” Shota’s voice catches your attention again, and you sigh, looking back at him.
“Yeah, I heard you, Shota,” you lie. “Look…maybe you should go back to my place and sleep. You’ve been busy this week…you need to get some rest.”
You give him the opportunity to tell you to come with him. Maybe that’s what you need to make you snap out of this stupid trance that Su-bong has you in. But when Shota nods his head, running his hand through his hair, you know he won’t.
“Okay,” he says. “You’re probably right. Some rest could help. And I have that event in Hyōgo this weekend…” His tone almost sounds relieved.
“Then go,” you shrug. “I’ll see you later.”
Shota nods, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek before he turns away, taking his leave. On any other occasions, the simple kiss would be sweet, a tender sign of affection that he would frequently show you. But today, it stokes the flames already flickering inside of you.
“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise.” Su-bong managed to sneak up on you as you were watching Shota leave, and he now leans against the counter beside you. “I guess he wasn’t in Tokyo, huh?” You turn towards him, watching him take a long hit off of his vape, his expression more pleased than you think you’ve ever seen him. You find your gaze wandering to his mouth, watching the vapor billow from his lips. “What, do you want to kiss me or something?” He says it almost cruelly, like he’s mocking you for having the urge, but it’s all part of the game.
“No, but I’d like to slap you,” you retort.
“Mmm, I’d like that,” Su-bong chuckles, slipping behind you again. “What would it take to get you to choke me?” He reaches one hand past you to press against the edge of the countertop so he can block you against him. “What about you, baby?” he mumbles, his voice now muffled, as he likely pulled his mask over his face again. “Do you like to be choked, too?”
Before you can reply, you feel Su-bong’s hand pushing past the tulle of your skirt from behind, so you press your hands to the counter and widen your stance to give him access to you. He chuckles under the mask, pleased with how you’re reacting to him. As his middle finger pushes into your wetness, you sigh, your eyelids feeling heavy already from something so simple.
“Is this what you want?” Su-bong asks, teasing the pad of his finger over your clit, his body pressing against you. “For me to finger you in my kitchen while people watch?” Your eyes flutter open long enough to see some of the partygoers have caught on to your antics, whispering back and forth in amusement. Su-bong slips his finger inside of you, as deep as he can at this angle.
It does excite you: people watching you while you get touched by Su-bong in a Ghostface costume. You let your mind race with the thoughts of him bending you over the counter and fucking you in front of them, people pulling out their phones to record you. It overwhelms you — Shota would never touch you like this because he didn’t enjoy any public affection beyond a kiss.
“I can tell you like it,” Su-bong whispers. “You’re clenching around my finger like no one has ever touched you before. You’re so tight right now, I don’t know if you’re going to be able to handle what I’m going to do to you.”
“Fuck, Su-bong, please,” you gasp, dropping your gaze to the counter, unable to take the stares any longer. He pumps his finger into you a few times, agonizingly slow, deliberately teasing you.
“Please what? Tell me what you’re begging me for.”
“I fucking…” you gasp. “I need you to fuck me.”
“You need it, hm?” His tone is mocking, and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t aching for him. “Jesus, I barely even touched you and you’re already this desperate. Go wait in my bedroom. I’ll be up there eventually.”
‘Eventually’ should have pissed you off. It should have reminded you that you have a boyfriend who wouldn’t talk to you like that. You should have shoved him away from you and slapped him like any respectable woman would. But this was part of the game — and you like it.
Walking proves to be more of a challenge than you anticipated. You’re unsteady on your feet, your platform heels complicating things further as you very carefully ascend the stairs towards Su-bong’s bedroom. You don’t dare look over your shoulder to see who is still watching — by now, the whole party knows Su-bong has you exactly where he wants you.
When you finally reach Su-bong's bedroom, you note the flooring is carpet, so you slip your heels off to set them in the hallway before you enter. You make your way towards his bed, and sit on the edge, unsure of what to do with yourself while you wait. To keep your hands occupied, even for a moment, you untie the ribbon of the sheer hood you wore over your hair, dropping it to the bed beside you.
The music from the party below is muffled, only the bass thumping through the floor, making the silence of the room feel much louder. The room smells like his cologne and laundry soap, with a small hint of the watermelon flavored vape he’d grown fond of lately. Your hands fiddle with the duvet beneath you, fingers stroking the fabric as your mind races.
You haven’t had any alcohol but you feel drunk from the way Su-bong spoke to you, the way he touched you. It boggles your mind that he paid so much attention to all of your kinks during the course of your friendship, a far more thoughtful decision than you thought he was capable of. You think of the times when you would tell Shota the things you wanted to do, and how uncomfortable he would appear. He is a more reserved person who never seems to do anything he feels is too kinky — asking him to pull your hair was too much for him. You would never pressure him, but you also always had a nagging desire in the back of your mind to have someone to give you everything you’re looking for. Though you never expected that person to be Su-bong.
“Dreaming about me?” Your attention falls to Su-bong who leans against the doorway of his bedroom, puffing on his vape with your heels clutched in his other hand. “I found these,” he says, walking into the room and closing the door behind him. “I don’t remember telling you to take them off.”
Su-bong still stands several feet away from you, so you cross to him to take your shoes and slip them back onto your feet. He nods towards his bed and you take the hint, listening to him take the steps to follow directly behind you. Just as you reach the bed, his hands grasp your hips from behind to stop you, and urge you to bend at the waist. You set your hands against the mattress to keep your balance, feeling your ass press against Su-bong.
“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Su-bong mutters. “Getting you exactly where I want you. Having you ready to do whatever I tell you to do. Thanos’ little slut.” You clench involuntarily, and you’re happy that he can’t feel it yet — it would be too embarrassing for him to know how much you liked what he said.
You feel a loss of contact as Su-bong takes a step back, lowering to his knees behind you. He removes his gloves and mask entirely, tossing them onto the bed beside you so he can bunch the tulle of your skirt around your waist. His hands rub over your ass, thumbs briefly spreading you open to see your hole; of course your body reacts, clenching in anticipation.
“Is that where you want me?” Su-bong laughs, teasing his thumb over you. “I don’t think you’re prepared for that, not tonight. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll get you some toys so we can get you ready to take me. How does that sound?” His voice is almost too calm, like he’s unaffected by what he’s promising you. When his hand comes down hard on your ass, you yelp, your fingers clenching the duvet and your knees buckling. “Answer me,” he commands. “Does that sound good?”
“Yes, it sounds really fucking good,” you breathe, nodding your head quickly.
“Good,” he responds, one hand slipping between your thighs so he can rub along your slit. “I can’t believe your stupid fucking boyfriend saw you dressed like this and left you here. If you were mine, strutting around in a dress this short…” He spanks you again, this time harder than before, and he strokes your clit at the same time. Your body trembles and you let out a needy whine, feeling yourself growing wetter at the contact. “…dripping like this,” he continues, teasing his finger around your entrance. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Does your boyfriend know how to get you this wet? I bet he doesn’t; he seems boring.”
Su-bong doesn’t wait for an answer before he slips two fingers inside you, pumping slowly and shallowly. You groan in your throat, your head dropping and your eyes closing, his slender fingers stretching your walls that have been aching for him all night.
Su-bong surprises you by leaving a bite on the back of your thigh, making you drop down to your elbows with a moan. You rest your knee on the edge of the bed now, hoping it will support you as your arms grow tired, but this also gives Su-bong more access to you, which he greedily accepts with a growl.
“Fuck, you taste like candy,” he mutters, pressing open mouth kisses against you, licking up what he can. “Perfect for Halloween.”
When Su-bong angles his head so he’s able to press his mouth to your clit, he begins sucking on it, sloppy and wet, practically moaning against you while still thrusting his fingers into you. You whine, much needier than you expect, rocking your hips against his face, desperately needing more friction. Su-bong’s free hand strokes up the back of your calf, tracing the fishnet material, until he reaches the back of your thigh. He squeezes hard and then gives another sharp slap to your ass, causing you to buck against his face.
“Su-bong,” you whine, listening to him laugh against you. “Please.”
“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back so he can leave another bite, this time on your inner thigh. “Are you begging me?”
“Yes, please.”
With another spank to your ass, making you feel how tender it’s become, Su-bong stands, checking to see that your gaze is on him from over your shoulder. He raises the front of his hoodie enough to access his belt, slowly pulling the leather from the buckle until it’s open. His fingers press to the button, flicking it open and then dragging down the zipper, agonizingly slow.
“Is this what you’re begging me for?” Su-bong asks, nodding his head downwards.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Come over here and get it.”
You move from the bed to the floor, resting your knees in front of him. You keep your eyes on him, giving as innocent a look as you can muster, while you slide your hand into his boxers to wrap your fingers around him.
“Fuck,” you mumble, when you slip him from his clothes.
You clench thinking about what he’ll feel like inside of you, his size much larger than what you’re used to. Of course, he smirks at your reaction, so self-satisfied that it almost makes you roll your eyes. You notice Su-bong slips his phone from his pocket, prepared to toss it onto the bed beside his mask and gloves, but he pauses, as if he’s thinking of something. A devious smirk begins to spread across his lips as he lifts his gaze to meet yours.
“Can I?”
It takes you a moment to understand what he’s suggesting, but your stomach twists into knots when you realize; he wants to record you. All you can do is nod, beginning to slowly stroke your hand over him — you don’t know if you could even form a clear sentence with how turned on you are. In response to your approval, Su-bong grins, snatching up his mask and slipping it over his face again.
When you chance a look at him, you watch him pull the hood over his head as well, his breaths heavy. Giving him an innocent look from underneath your eyelashes, you find him peering down at you from behind his mask, aiming the camera towards you. You can hear his breath muffled against the mask, steady but every so often a little shaky.
You take him into your mouth slowly, bobbing your head over him so that he’s halfway into your mouth with your hand stroking the rest of him. You feel a little shy on camera, like you forgot how to properly give head, but Su-bong softly presses his hand to the back of your head to urge you on.
“Can you take it deeper for me?” he asks, and you relax your jaw preparing to take more of him into your mouth. “I love how eager you are to please me, baby.”
The sentence would have been sweet if it wasn’t in the tone that Su-bong liked to use — that Thanos voice. It’s smug and egotistical, like he needs his inflated sense of self to be the first thing people notice about him; he’s proud of his ego and the way people feed into it. Right now, you’re more than happy to give him what he wants.
When his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag but fight through it, keeping him still. Su-bong groans when he feels you struggling around him, the way you try to keep him even though he’s too big, it makes his cock twitch against your tongue. You pull back quicker than you would have liked, letting out a gasp but still taking care to stroke over him.
“It’s okay,” Su-bong says, wiping the tear from your eye with his thumb. “You’ve never had to suck a dick this big, have you, señorita?” You shake your head slowly, licking the head of his cock and swirling your tongue around to catch some of the precum that leaked out.
“I like how you taste,” you admit, your free hand slipping between your thighs to rub your clit. You take him back into your mouth bobbing your head over him faster, stroking to the base of his shaft.
“Are you touching yourself?” Su-bong asks, trying to angle the camera to get your whole body in the frame. “Did I tell you that you could do that?”
You whimper around him, your eyebrows furrowing because fuck, the deep, raspy tone of his voice shoots straight between your thighs. You’re sure if you could see his face, he would be smirking at you, knowing that he has you exactly where he wants you. After a few more bobs of your head, you take him deeper again, working over him faster and moaning quietly around him.
“Fuck, that feel so good” he grits, letting out a shuddered breath. “I’ll have to train you how to deepthroat and you’ll—Jesus, you’ll be perfect.” He sets his hand on the back of your head and guides you backwards so he drops from your mouth. “Take everything off except your stockings and heels,” he commands, stepping back with his camera still aimed towards you.
Standing to your feet, you decide to put on a show for him and his camera; you unfasten the button of your skirt and let it drop to pool around your feet. When you begin to unfasten the hooks at the front of your corset, Su-bong takes a step closer to you to get a better view with his camera. His free hand slowly strokes over himself, his breath heavy in the mask. When you drop the rest of your clothing to the floor, he gets one last look at you through the phone’s camera before he stops recording and tosses it to the bed.
“Lay on your back,” he directs. “Spread your legs. Let me see how wet your pussy is now that you got a taste of Thanos.” You hurry towards the bed, far more eager than you would normally like to be and you swear you can hear Su-bong laugh behind you. “Hungry little slut,” he mutters, entirely too amused.
You settle into the bed, dropping back onto your elbows so you can still watch him, spreading your legs like you were told to do. Su-bong slowly strokes over his erection for a moment before he tucks himself back into his boxers, to your disappointment.
“Now, don’t look so sad,” Su-bong mumbles, moving closer to the bed. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He slides the mask off of his face and drops it to the bed, taking a hit of his vape again. “On your back,” he says, more firmly. “Keep your eyes up.”
You find it an odd request but when you rest onto your back, you notice the oversized mirror on the ceiling above his bed. At any other time, you would roll your eyes and mock him for how ridiculous it seems. But you’re entranced, as through the reflection, you see Su-bong crawling onto the bed, pushing your legs even further apart to give him space.
“Have you always gotten wet for me?” Su-bong asks, kissing up your inner thigh.
“Mhm,” you hum, still watching him through the mirror, your hands fisting the duvet beneath you as he gets closer to where you need him most. “When we’d dance, I’d feel you getting hard…” You say it in hopes that you could bring him down to your level a bit, however, Su-bong has no shame, and he chuckles against your thigh, leaving a bite much harder than you expect.
“Yeah, because I knew you would have fucked me at the club if I asked you,” he mutters, his tongue teasing over your clit. You moan softly, pressing one hand to the back of his head and urging him to continue — of course he lets out an amused breath of a laugh, but obliges.
Su-bong doesn’t waste time going slow; he begins to suck on your clit immediately, his fingers joining his mouth between your legs but circling your slick entrance. You nudge your hips against his face, begging him to get on with it, because you’re desperate to get off. Su-bong eases two fingers inside of you, thrusting at a steady pace but now beginning to tongue your clit, panting against you.
“Fuck, Thanos.”
You don’t mean to say it. Truth be told, you don’t even realize that you said it until Su-bong growls against you and hooks his free arm under your thigh to pin you against his face. He sucks on your clit again, his fingers thrusting faster, pushing you faster to your orgasm. You thread your fingers through his hair to give you some leverage to work your hips against.
“I’m gonna come, Thanos,” you moan, testing his nickname again in hopes that he can go even faster.
“Mhm,” he hums against you, giving you what you need.
The sloppy sound of his fingers pumping and his mouth sucking becomes the only thing you can focus on, chasing your orgasm. You claw at the back of his hoodie with your free hand, watching through the mirror so you can see yourself losing control. When his fingers curl inside of you, pumping harder, hitting that spot that’s been neglected for so long, you let out a broken moan, needy and cheap enough that you’d blush if you heard it from outside. Su-bong’s grip on your thigh begins to hurt, and you know he’ll leave bruises but the pain only gives you the push you need to reach your climax.
Your thighs tighten around his head, and you feel him moan hard against you in response, still working you through your climax. You arch from the bed, pressing yourself against him more firmly to feel every bit of your orgasm. The way Su-bong’s fingers thrust into you still, fast and hard, make your legs quake along with the motions. Each time you make contact, you become more aware of how sore you’re going to be already.
You feel him in every inch of your body, shockwaves rolling all the way through to your limbs. With Su-bong working you at the same pace, you feel yourself hurtling towards another climax that you’re not ready for. Everything begins to feel like it’s blurring and you’re worried you could pass out from overstimulation, the intensity of your first orgasm much greater than you expected. Your hands press to his shoulders, the bottoms of your heels dig into his sides, trying to push him away as you find your words.
“F-fuck, wait,” you stutter out, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Su-bong slows to a stop and lifts his gaze to meet yours, a brief flash of concern in his eyes. “I’m okay,” you pant, covering your face with your hands. “Just gimme a second.”
“That wasn’t even my best work. You must have really needed that.”
You’d laugh if you could because he’s not wrong. Shota rarely takes care of your needs; you blame it on a number of factors, like his busy schedule, your distance from one another, and how exhausted he gets from work. You don’t think he does it on purpose, but no, you can’t keep thinking about Shota when Su-bong rolls onto his back and rests his head on your thigh, watching you through the mirror as he takes another hit from his vape.
Something hits you at this moment: you haven’t kissed him yet. You wonder if it’s intentional, and maybe it’s too intimate for what you’re doing, too tender. But you watch his mouth on his vape, the way he licks his lips after he exhales the vapor…and you want to know what it feels like to be kissed by him.
“What is it?” Su-bong asks, staring at you through the mirror. “Had enough?”
“Just thinking.”
“Ah, you think too much,” he waves his hand dismissively. “You could afford to spend some time feeling instead. Get out of your head every once and a while.”
You stare at him for another moment before shoving him off of you and crawling on top of him, straddling his waist. His expression is overjoyed and diabolical at the same time, so you knock his vape from his hand so it clatters to the floor. When his eyebrows crease and his lips part, presumably to complain, you grab handfuls of his hoodie and plant a hard kiss on his lips. He groans, his hands setting on your hips so he can dig his fingers into your skin.
“I could tell you wanted to kiss me,” he mutters against your lips. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?”
You break from the kiss completely, pressing your hands flat against his chest and grinding yourself against his cock through his jeans. He pulls in a sharp breath, then lands a quick slap on your ass while his other hand is still holding your hip.
Your hand slips between your bodies, working his cock free from his boxers again. You guide it along your slit, making sure he’s covered with your juices before finally you ease him inside of you. The moan you let out was pathetic, but he stretches you more than you expect, a distinct pain radiating through your walls.
Su-bong doesn’t say anything apart from a muttered swear once you’ve settled onto him completely, but when his eyes meet yours, you can tell he’s checking in to make sure you’re okay. You give him a small nod, and start to rock yourself on his lap, slow enough to get used to the pain. Su-bong nods, biting his lip as he lets out a satisfied groan.
Desperate to get your hands on him, you drag the zipper of his hoodie down, and he takes the hint, sitting up to remove it the rest of the way. Once his hoodie is on the floor, one of your hands gently grasps his throat, watching for his reaction. His tongue slips from his mouth, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth with a nod of his head. Your grip tightens on him,watching the way his eyes slip closed while you still ride him slowly.
“Fuck,” he grinds out, holding your thighs firmly, adding to the litany of marks he’s left on you already. “Harder.”
“Of course you like getting choked,” you tease, tightening your grip on his throat. You lean over him, planting a quick kiss on his lips, before whispering in his ear, “Are you going to choke me, too?”
Su-bong lets out a strangled grunt, and you release your grip on him, letting him pull in a few breaths. He thrusts up, plowing himself deeper inside of you so that you let out a yelp against his neck. You claim his neck with your mouth, sucking and kissing to leave your mark on him, Su-bong murmurs your name in a tone that makes your walls clench around his cock, riding him faster now.
“Why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me?” he asks, nudging your head softly with his to get your attention.
“No, I want to be on top.”
You’re testing the waters. You want to see if he likes a brat — well, maybe not completely bratty, but a little defiant. Both of Su-bong’s arms wrap around your waist, holding your body flush against his so you can’t move. You lift your head from his neck, and peer into his eyes to find them darkened, albeit a little amused.
“Who’s in charge?” he asks, quietly. You don’t answer immediately, so he spanks you hard enough to make you whine and clench around him again. “Answer me,” he asks, his voice raspier now, more insistent.
“You are,” you reply, licking your lips, unable to hide your excitement at the way he speaks to you. A smirk spreads across his lips and he kisses you, hard and rough, like he wants to claim his property. When he breaks from the kiss, you risk giving an extra bite to his bottom lip, a move that earns a growl from Su-bong.
“Get on your knees.”
You finally do as you're told, hurrying off of him so you can rest on your hands and knees facing the head of the bed. He settles onto his knees behind you, hand rubbing soothingly over your backside for a moment. You rest onto your forearms, arching your back to press yourself against him, trying to entice him to continue.
Su-bong chuckles at your eagerness, pressing his hand against your lower back as he guides himself back into you. He lets out a raspy groan, burying inside of you to the hilt and remaining still for a moment. You can hear that he’s fumbling with something so you glance over your shoulder to see him slipping his mask back onto his face.
“I’m so glad Shooter left you here for me,” he laughs, gently rocking his hips against you. “I’m going to make you mine now.”
Su-bong reaches past you to prop his phone against the pillows, pressing record when he’s sure that you’re both in the frame. He sits upright again, grabbing your hip with one hand while the other holds the hem of his shirt out of the way so he’s able to watch between your bodies as he fucks into you. You watch him through the screen of the phone, and you can’t fight the climax that starts to build inside of you at the sight of him in his Ghostface mask.
“That boyfriend of yours…he can’t do it like this, can he?”
“No,” you whine, your eyes slipping closed.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” Su-bong says, spanking you hard enough to make you moan. Your eyes flutter open so you can see him on the phone screen again. “Does your little boyfriend fuck you this good?”
“He can’t fuck me like you can,” you whimper, shaking your head. “Fuck, you’re so big.” You let out a staggered groan, your eyes slipping closed so you can focus on pushing yourself back against his thrusts.
“Yeah? You’re not used to something this big, are you?”
“No, no one has ever fucked me this deep, or stretched me like this. You’re gonna make me come, baby; please, don’t stop.”
“C’mere,” Su-bong mumbles, grabbing your shoulder so he can pull you towards him, pressing his chest against your back. “Are you going to come for me?” he whispers, his voice muffled, but the heat of his breath resonating from behind the mask’s rubber edges. “Is your pussy leaking down your thighs because this is the best you’ve ever had?”
“Mhm,” you whine, grabbing one of his hands to drag it towards your throat.
“Dirty little slut,” he chuckles, wrapping his slender fingers around your throat and squeezing just enough to make it difficult for you to pull in a breath.
“Choke me,” you beg, as Su-bong continues to thrust against you.
Su-bong grips you more firmly, cutting off your oxygen and you instinctively try to take a breath, but find yourself unable to. He fucks you harder, hitting you at a different angle with your bodies pressed together like this. You reach over your shoulder, pushing his mask off of his face, letting it fall to the floor. You scrape your nails over his scalp before threading your fingers through his hair, listening to him let out a growl.
“You should see how sexy you look,” he whispers. “You’ve got a boyfriend but you’re riding my dick like you fucking own it. What would people think if they saw how fucking nasty you’re acting for me?” You dig your nails into his forearm, and he takes the hint, loosening his grip so you can pull in a breath. “Good girl,” he soothes, wrapping his arms around your body to hold you still while he trusts.
“Fuck, choke me again.”
“You want to come with my hand on your throat?”
“Mhm, please,” you beg, nodding furiously.
Su-bong places his hand on your throat again, squeezing immediately so you’re unable to breathe. Your jaw is slack, eyes closed, your hips trying to circle against Su-bong’s hard thrusts. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before he bites down to muffle his moan.
“Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby,” he mutters against your skin. “I’ve never had pussy this good in my life.”
You would moan if you had the air, but Su-bong’s fingers dig into your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off entirely. The sensations become overwhelming: Su-bong panting and moaning against your shoulder, the bed creaking softly beneath you, the bass rumbling from the floor below, your inability to breathe — it pushes you headfirst into your second climax of the night.
Su-bong releases his grip on your throat, allowing you to pull in a shuddered breath that quickly turns into a ragged moan. Your moans are strangled and desperate, your body quivering against Su-bong’s, fingernails dragging along the length of his arm and digging in.
“Fuck,” he hisses, still thrusting as you struggle to pull away from him, far too overstimulated. Su-bong laughs breathlessly, letting you go so that you drop back onto your stomach, with him pressed against your back. “Jesus,” he mutters, kissing along your shoulder. “You almost made me come.”
“Wouldn’t make us even,” you rasp.
“Oh, yeah?” Su-bong chuckles, grabbing his phone to stop the recording.
“Mhm,” you hum, nudging him off of you. He rolls onto his back with a grunt, his hand giving a lazy stroke over his length. “What’s wrong?” you ask, rolling onto your side and watching him carefully. “Are you too tired now?”
“You need Thanos to give you another one, señorita?” he grins, licking your slick from his fingers. You roll closer to him, taking hold of his wrist and pulling his hand towards you so you can finish cleaning his hand.
“I want you to ruin me for anyone else,” you mutter. “I want you to make it where I can’t think of you without my pussy getting wet.” Su-bong stares at you for a moment, mesmerized. You wonder if you’ve gone too far but he leans towards you and kisses you deeply, his hand resting underneath your chin to keep you in place.
“On your back,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want, my girl.”
You roll onto your back, spreading your legs, inviting him over. The grin on Su-bong’s face is clear as he kneels between your thighs, tugging his shirt over his head and throwing it to the ground before pushing himself back inside of you. He presses his hands to your inner thighs, pinning your legs down to the spread wide open for him. Su-bong presses his weight against your thighs to brace himself as he fucks into you, a steady pace, but hitting deep inside of you with each thrust. Your moans become needier, cheap, decorum long thrown out the window — it’s only you and Su-bong, and his thrusts grow faster.
“You were made to have me inside you,” he mumbles, rolling his head back as his thrusts get sloppier. “I can’t wait…to see you covered in me.”
“You’re gonna come all over me?” you whine, clenching at the thought and Su-bong’s hips stutter in response. “Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you groan, exhausted feeling the tightening in your worn out muscles. “Oh, my God, Su-bong, don’t stop!”
Your words start to jumble, your mind going blank as another climax hits your drained body. This time, it makes you tremble down to your feet, your knees pulling in around his waist of their own accord. You moan out his name, your hands clawing at his back in desperation, operating entirely on instinct.
It only takes a few more strokes of his hips before Su-bong pulls out of you as he jerks his hand quickly over his length, groaning your name over and over mixed with mutters of praise for you. As he comes, he drops his head back and lets out a loud moan into the air, echoing off the walls of his room. He finishes on your stomach and chest, panting and growling as he does.
“Fuck,” he breathes, feeling blindly at his side for his phone.
Su-bong aims the camera at you, trailing his fingers through his cum, gathering just enough to coat his fingers. He brings his hand between your thighs, pushing his fingers inside of your tender entrance. You whimper, needy and almost pleading with him because you won’t be able to handle another orgasm. Su-bong laughs breathlessly, recording as he gives two shallow pumps of his fingers before removing them altogether.
“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you do as you’re told. You stick your tongue out to allow him to slip his fingers into your mouth, aiming the camera at your face to film your response. You suck his fingers clean, looking beyond the phone this time, and instead into Su-bong’s face.
When he retracts his hand, he stops filming you, tossing the phone onto the bed beside you. He struggles for a moment to maneuver off of the side of the bed, nearly stumbling to the floor on his shaky legs.
“Jesus,” Su-bong breathes out, rubbing his hand over his face as he finally climbs from the bed and heads towards his bathroom. You lay splayed out on the bed, eyes closed, trying to catch your breath, completely fucked out.
You’re sure it was the best sex you’ve ever had. It was everything you’ve never gotten from partners in the past, especially Shota.
Oh, fuck — what are you going to tell Shota?
“You okay?” Su-bong’s voice pulls you back to reality, and you open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway of his bathroom, fastening his belt. He smiles, softer than he had all night, and you see shades of your friend again.
“Yeah,” you rasp, returning the smile.
“I turned the shower on,” Su-bong says, gesturing behind him into the bathroom then pointing across the room to a door. “There are shirts and boxers in the closet — you can wear whatever you want.”
“Where are you going?” You embarrass yourself with the way it sounds: needy and soft. After what the two of you just did, it feels out of place. Su-bong laughs, picking his vape from the floor and taking a hit as he walks closer to the bed.
“Why, you gonna miss me?”
“Not at all,” you quip, as Su-bong gently lifts your legs one at a time to slip your shoes from your feet, letting them clatter to the floor.
“Well,” Su-bong hums, his eyes scanning over your body. “I think Shooter is going to suspect something when he sees what I did to you.”
You don’t bother to look, knowing that you’re likely littered with bruises, bites all over your inner thighs, and your ass red with Su-bong’s hand print. You instead keep your eyes on Su-bong, noticing the mark you left on his neck; it makes you grin knowing that he let the Thanos facade slip just a bit for you.
“You can stay in here tonight,” he says, picking his shirt off of the floor and tugging it over his head. “I’ll clear the party out and come back in a little while.”
“What, are you going to come back to cuddle or something?” You say it to mock him gently in the way that he does to you, keeping in line with how most of your conversations go. But there’s a part of you that wants him to be soft to you — needs to feel him holding you. Su-bong smirks, pulling a lollipop from his pocket and slowly peeling the wrapper off.
“Is that what you want me to do?” he asks, still managing to make his voice sound cocky even while talking about something gentle. “Hold you and kiss you like I’m your boyfriend or something?”
“I guess it would be okay,” you reply, a faint smile on your lips. Su-bong slips the lollipop in his mouth, nodding his head.
“Then don’t worry about putting any clothes on when you get out of the shower,” he says, walking towards the bed. “I’d rather you sleep naked.”
He places one knee on the bed so he can lean over you, pressing his hands to the mattress on either side of your body. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, simply stares into your eyes — his gaze is softer than you expect but he still hides some mischief behind the gentleness.
Su-bong pulls the lollipop from his mouth and licks his lips, dripping his head down to kiss you. It’s not soft like you’d expect after the way he was looking at you, but it isn’t rough either. He kisses you like he may not have another chance, deep and passionate so you can taste yourself on his tongue, mixing with the sweet raspberry flavor of the lollipop.
You feel like you could stay there forever, like this is where you belong: kissing Su-bong after he fulfilled almost every single desire you’ve ever had. Your body still trembles softly from the intensity of your interaction with him, goosebumps breaking out over your body. But your mind flashes to Shota, at your apartment wondering where you are. You feel shame start to wash over you, your thoughts beginning to push away the aftershocks of your multiple orgasms.
“Mmm,” he hums, breaking from the kiss to lock eyes with you again. “I can feel that you’re thinking too much.”
“What am I supposed to tell Shooter?”
“Whatever you want,” Su-bong replies, with a shrug. “Here, this will give you something to play with while I’m gone.”
Su-bong holds the sucker between his teeth by the stick, bracing himself above you with his hands against the mattress. He leans down enough for the candy to be just an inch from your lips so you lock eyes with him as you stick your tongue out and lick the sweet. The expression in his eyes is elated, like it won’t take much for him to be ready for round two. Though the thought of fucking Su-bong for the rest of the night makes your heart leap into your throat, your body is far too exhausted to do anything else tonight. You take the sucker into your mouth and Su-bong releases the stick from between his teeth.
“Just break up with him,” Su-bong says, standing from the bed and picking up his hoodie to pull it on again. “It’s never going to get better than where it is right now.” He spares one more glance towards you, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips. “But us?” he says, gesturing between himself and you. “We haven’t even scratched the surface, my girl.”
Summary: Life goes on while you and Seunghyun choose forever & enter the year 2025.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Adult themes, Adult content, unprotected sex, language
Trajectory Master List
Chapter Seven
You and Seunghyun slip in quick visits here and there that feel less like quality time and more like high school hookups. Sometimes seeing each other for less than 24 hours.
One random, rainy day in April, you were minding your own business, painting, a hobby you had recently picked back up since meeting Seunghyun. You had your BIGBANG playlist blaring. You listened to them when Seunghyun was away to bring you comfort in hearing his voice and because you didn’t want to upset him, knowing that his emotions involving his friends were still raw. Due to the volume, you didn’t hear the front door unlock or Seunghyun make his way down to your office doorway, where he stood for a good 5 minutes watching you paint, sing, and attempt to dance.
Your back was to him as you were mixing colors and putting on, in your opinion, a top tier performance of ‘Fantastic Baby,’ when he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his hips into yours. You screamed.
“Woah woah, it’s me!” Seunghyun shouts, spinning you to face him. “You were too busy with your performance to hear me come in.” He smirked.
Your face turned red as you scrambled to pause the music. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wanted to surprise you. I finished filming early and have about 17 hours to kill.” He says sheepishly. “Make that 15…I have to account for travel time.”
“Babe…You came all this way just for a few hours?” You ask, looking up into his dark eyes. He’s so tired, you can see it in his eyes.
“A few hours with you.” He says leaning in to kiss you. He then scoops you up, heading towards the bedroom.
You both undress each other, sliding under the covers. Seunghyun takes his time. When he enters you, it’s gentle, slow, and controlled. Once settled into you fully, he pauses, as if memorizing every part of you.
He thrusts into you deep and deliberate, your body arching into his. You both keep eye contact, as if to photograph this moment forever. The room is quiet, aside from your labored breaths.
You have one hand in his hair, keeping his lips on yours while the other digs into his lower back for encouragement.
He holds the back of your neck with one hand and has the other under your thigh, keeping you steady as he presses you into the mattress.
Your hearts race and breaths becomes ragged. You both whisper each other's names as you both make your release.
The rest of the evening is spent wrapped in each other’s arms. Seunghyun stroking your skin while you trace his tattoos.
The next morning, Seunghyun is gone before you wake. Leaving a note with a countdown of days until you are reunited.
During your time apart, you've also become close with Seunghyun’s mother. She started reaching out to you to check in when he left for filming and you've continued to talk or visit with her at least once a week. Forming a relationship with her was important to you because you knew how much she meant to Seunghyun. She appreciates how much you care for her son and believes you bring out the best in him.
Before you know it, filming has wrapped and the two of you have fallen back into your old routine. Seunghyun made the conscious decision to stay out of interviews and promotional events until after Season 2 is released in December. He’s shifted his efforts back into the studio recording music while you have continued excelling at the museum. Life together moves on blissfully.
——————————————————————
On the day of you and Seunghyun’s 2 year anniversary, you were flying home from Japan. When you made your way into the apartment the entry way was dark. It was after 8pm, Seunghyun must still be at the studio.
You remove your shoes and roll your luggage to the end of the hallway where you see a flicker of glowing light coming from the living room. There’s a fire in the fireplace and candles scattered about the living room, blankets and pillows arranged on the floor overlooking the floor to ceiling windows displaying the snowy scene of the Seoul skyline.
You see two glasses and a bottle of champagne chilling on the kitchen island. You smile warmly as you look around the room, making your way to the windows to watch the snow fall. You see Seunghyun’s reflection in the window as he approaches behind you.
He comes up beside you, kissing you on the cheek, wrapping his arm around you. “Welcome home.”
“Happy anniversary.” You tell him, looking up at him, kissing him.
“I wanted to make things special.” He smiles sheepishly.
He seems nervous. “Well you pulled it off. This is all so perfect.” You tell him, taking it all in. “Can we sit? I have been keeping a secret from you for months and I can’t hide it anymore.” You tell him, taking his hands.
“You have a secret?” He raises an eyebrow, leading you over to the pillows by the fire.
“I do.” You grin, reaching into your pocket to pull out your phone. “As you know I was in Japan for work, but I took a detour to pick up this.” You turn your phone to face him.
On the screen is a commissioned portrait by Takeshita Murakami. “This is..mine?.” He asks quietly. “
“It’s one hundred percent yours babe. Painted for you and your collection.” You beam.
“I’m speechless.” He whispers.
“I was able to meet Murakami last year while you were filming. I ended up telling him about how we met and how his art brought us together. The topic of a commission came up and I couldn’t think of a better gift for you for our anniversary. It turns out, he’s a fan of yours as well. He…” you’re stopped mid sentence, Seunghyun’s mouth on yours.
“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you.” He says looking at you with admiration.
You place your hand on his cheek. “You deserve it. You do so much for me and I just want you to know how important you are to me.”
“I love you.” He says, looking deep into your eyes. “Since meeting you that day you have brought me back to life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, through the good and bad, the fame and failure…”
You can hear your heart beating in your ears. Your brain is reminding you to breathe, his voice is shaky… He’s proposing.
He reaches into his pocket. “Wherever life is headed, I want us to be there, together. Y/N, will you marry me?”
He opens the box, inside is a vintage, oval cut, canary diamond engagement ring. Tears are already streaming down your cheeks. Your voice comes out hoarse, “Yes, Seunghyun. A thousand times over, yes.”
He shakily slides the diamond on left ring finger and kisses your hand. “It’s perfect.” You smile up at him, “I love you so much,” you say, wrapping your arms around him.
He gets up, grabbing the glasses and champagne then returning beside you. He pops the cork and pours while you hold the glasses. He then takes one from you. “A toast.” He says.
You raise your glass. “A toast to the future Mr. & Mrs. Choi Seunghyun.” You say.
“I like the way that sounds.” He says as you cheers to the rest of your lives.
———————————————————————————————————-
The two of you elope a month later. Deciding there’s no point in putting it off. The only people present as witnesses are Seunghyun’s mother, sister, and Nari. It’s low key and elegant. The two of you wouldn’t have it any other way. You both elect for simple, platinum wedding bands. Seunghyun often layers his with one of his Thanos rings he held onto after filming in hopes to not call attention to your recent nuptials.
You honeymoon in Europe perusing as many art museums as you can, indulging in fine wine and delicious food, and of course, each other. The year is 2025 and things are off to a great start. What you don’t know is Seunghyun is about to skyrocket back into the public eye as 2025 is the year of T.O.P.
————————————————————————————————
After the wedding, there hasn’t been much down time between you and Seunghyun. The museum is currently in the middle of a remodel which you and Nari have been supporting with hopes of refreshing the current pieces, therefore you've once again, been traveling sometimes 2 weeks at a time.
Seunghyun started doing press for Squid Game 2 after its December release and he has gained a lot of traction. Fans in the states dug in deep with the character Thanos which led Korea to change its tune in referencing him in the media. He’s now referred to in a more positive manner which really took a while to sink in for Seunghyun.
You’re in your office, sorting through paperwork when he arrives at your door. Recently, the two of you have been like passing ships in the night instead of a newlywed couple.
He points to your nameplate on the door, “You updated it.” He smiles seeing his last name.
“I figured there’s a ton of Chois in Korea, I could be married to any of them.” You smile, walking over to shut the door and wrap your arms around him. “I thought you had interviews today.”
“I did, but I got some news I wanted to share with you that I thought was exciting.” He grins, leading you over to the couch in the corner of your office.
You sit, looking at him with anticipation.
“I’ve been invited to LA for a week at the end of May to sit on some panels talking about the show and to attend Tudum 2025.”
Your jaw drops. “Babe, that’s big!” You say embracing him tightly. “This is going to be your year, I just know it.”
Tudum 2025 was going to be monumental for his career along with those panels. American fans were next level in their excitement towards Thanos. Seunghyun spent every morning laughing, scrolling, and sending various Thanos edits out to you and his friends. The fans have embraced him and his character. This event was going to be huge for him.
“I want you to come with me.” He says, hopeful.
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You say, kissing him. Instinctively you shift over onto his lap.
“I don’t think the door is locked Princess.” Seunghyun says, head motioning towards the door.
“They know not to disturb me if my door is shut.” You say unlatching his belt and unzipping his pants. “I’m not wasting this opportunity.” You whisper.
Seunghyun starts unbuttoning your blouse, pulls down your bra and starts kissing your chest.
You reach down, freeing his cock and begin pumping it slowly.
“You really want me that bad?” He says teeth grazing your nipple.
“Yes, I do.” You breathe and you shimmy your skirt up sliding your underwear to the side. “I’m already wet for you.” You say as you position yourself at the ready.
Seunghyun doesn’t let you hesitate as he grabs your shoulders pushing you down onto him, taking him fully in one motion. You gasp.
“You always take me so well.” He laughs in your ear as he thrusts up into you.
You grab the back of his hair pulling his neck back to kiss that place under his neck that makes him go wild. He lets out a low groan, that sound you love to hear. “Careful babe, you don’t want my boss to hear.” You whisper as you nibble his neck.
You continue riding him, circling your hips. You meet his movements, taking in all of him, as he thrusts upwards. You bite your lip as he caresses your breast with his mouth.
“I can’t have you do all the work.” He whispers, while in one swift motion he flips you over on your back. He pulls off your panties, tucking them into his pocket. He angles your leg over the back of the couch, making more room for him to enter you.
When he does, you bite down on his shoulder, raising your arms above your head to place them on the couch arm rest, bracing yourself. He groans again, pumping deeper into you.
You use the back of the couch to angle yourself just right, opening yourself fully to him. When he thrusts into you, it causes you to let out a moan that is much louder than you intended.
Seunghyun's hand moves quickly to your mouth, covering it. “Shhhhh, Princess. Now who’s going to alert their boss?” He grins devilishly. He doesn’t stop or slow, he continues driving into you, covering your whimpers with his hand.
When you both climax, it’s sloppy, and disjointed. At one point you almost fall off the couch causing you both to break out into laughter. He immediately pulls you up, straightening your skirt and buttoning your blouse back. You adjust his pants and buckle his belt.
“There.” He says smoothing your hair. “Good as new.” He laughs. Kissing the top of your head then heading towards the door. “I have a lunch meeting I have to get to.”
You follow him to the door, grabbing for his pocket. “Wait, I think you forgot something.”
He pulls your panties out of his pocket, twirling them around his finger. “Oh, I didn’t forget, this is my souvenir.” He grins, shoving them back into his pocket. “I’m keeping them.”
summary: when you awake in a random room, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and masked strangers, you have two goals: the main goal is to survive, the other is to avoid your ex-boyfriend at all costs.
warnings: swearing, smutttttt, mentions of drug use and death, slight angst, mentions of a breakup, thanos x fem!reader, slight dae-ho x reader, very cheesy ending
words: 5.4k
you aren’t sure how you got here: broke, confused, and dressed in a teal tracksuit that certainly isn’t from your closet. you awake in the unfamiliar room with a start, heart pounding as you scanned the area for a single familiar face. none.
or so you thought.
it doesn’t take long for a crowd to form, a sea of equally confused men and women gathering in the front of the room as they try to make sense of their circumstances. a group of masked men clad in bright pink suits soon offer a brief explanation of what’s going on. the crowd erupts in chatter and a symphony of frustrated complaints fill the air.
“what about my phone?” a man yells at one of the masked men, his jacket reading 333. “why did you take my phone and wallet? give them back, please.” he pleads.
the guard replies solemnly, “we’re keeping your belongings safe. we’ll return them once the games are over.”
“at least give me my phone. i need to check the crypto market. if i lose money, will you compensate me?” the man continues to beg.
“we will return it to you once the games are over.” the guard repeats, still stoic.
“i need to monitor the realtime prices! do you know how much i’ve invested?” you begin to grow annoyed at the man’s whining—there are far more important things to be worried about right now, like where are you? how did you get here and why can’t you remember?
the guard no longer entertains the man, instead revealing, “player 333, lee myung-gi. age 30, used to run a youtube channel called mg coin. after convincing subscribers to invest in a new crypto coin called dalmatian, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won, you shut down and disappeared. you’re wanted for fraud and for violating telecom and financial investment laws. current debt levels, 1.8 billion won.” an image of the man flashes across a screen and he cringes in embarrassment.
other people shout from the crowd, to which the guard displays their images on the screen in response.
“player 196, kang mina, 45 million won in debt.”
“player 120, cho hyun-ju, 330 million won in debt.”
“player 230, choi su-bong, 1.19 billion won in debt.”
holy shit.
choi su-bong, also known as thanos, though better known as your ex-boyfriend, flashes across the screen, a vape clutched in his hand.
what the hell is going on?
first you wake up in an unfamiliar room with over 400 other people, and now your ex is here too? you begin to think things can’t get any worse, but you’re quickly proven wrong once the first game begins. on the surface, it’s a harmless kids game, red light, green light, that you’d played countless times as a child. but as the game progresses, you’re exposed to horrors you couldn’t even imagine if you tried.
as you stand behind the white line, anxiously studying the doll at the other end of the arena, you hear a man, 456, begin to shout. he warns about the dangers of the game, of this place, and how if you move while the doll is looking, you’ll die. he must be losing his mind in here already.
you scan the crowd for su-bong and it isn’t hard to spot him, his dark, purple hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of teal bodies. he’s talking to a girl, of course, no doubt flirting with the woman as she twirls her hair. you decide to avoid the man at all costs, feeling jealousy bubble up in your stomach, though you know it’s irrational. you’ve been broken up for a few months now, but the pain has barely subsided.
you’d been with su-bong prior to his fame, long before the money and pills got to his head. you had met at the bar when he was still an aspiring artist, far less cocky than he’d eventually become. he was charming and kind, paid for your drinks all night, and he insisted the two of you went out on a date shortly after. from there, it was history—the two of you were inseparable. you couldn’t count how many sleepless nights you’d spent with su-bong at the studio, mulling over the same verses over and over again until he finally got them right. he referred to you as his muse; his motivation when fame seemed unattainable. but when he finally blew up, everything changed.
you blame it on the crew of sleazy guys he’d always surround himself with, insisting they would help him rise even higher to the top, though all they really did was get su-bong high. at first, you were oblivious to it all, attributing his distant behavior to his newfound fame and the demand for new music as fans grew eager. however, when you stumbled upon his secret stash of pills hidden in one of his drawers, your relationship with su-bong began to crumble. he blew you off and called you dramatic, explaining that it was normal in the industry. you tried to reason with your boyfriend, worried about his health and the influence his friends had on him, but he never listened. your relationship had devolved to a point where there were more arguments than not, where you had to beg for his attention and love like some sort of groupie. and after a while, you couldn’t take it anymore. you knew you deserved better, despite how painful it was to end the relationship you’d poured so much love and time into. so, you broke up with su-bong.
you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt like hell, but you respected yourself far too much to let the relationship drag on. you knew you couldn’t ever get the old su-bong back no matter how you tried, and the new version of the man, thanos, was far from desirable to you. despite all this, though, you know deep down that you still love him, and that will never change no matter how much you hate his new persona.
so maybe that’s why seeing him flirt with that girl, as though he didn’t lose the best thing that's ever happened to him, pissed you off so much.
you redirect your attention back to the doll once it starts to sing, its shrill, childlike voice sending a chill down your spine. 456 continues to warn the crowd that this isn’t a game, that it’s a killing machine, but you continue to write off the mad man and blame it on the stress of your new environment.
that is, until, the same girl su-bong had just been flirting with falls to the ground with a thud, a bullet wound to her head.
“player 196 eliminated.” a robotic voice announces.
holy shit. maybe 456 isn’t as crazy as you thought.
you’re shaking, now, trying not to flinch as more lifeless bodies fall to the ground in a panicked frenzy. you try not to think about the deaths you witness and instead take cover behind a tall man in front of you, hoping his large frame is enough to conceal your trembling form. luckily, it is, and you miraculously make it to the other side of the arena without a scratch. you can’t say the same about everyone else, though.
you immediately find yourself searching the crowd for su-bong again, sighing a breath of relief once you spot him with a few others in the corner. he hardly seems fazed despite the horrors you just witnessed, and you attribute his indifference to the cross around his neck—the same one you’d found in his sock drawer only a few months prior. you roll your eyes at the thought and redirect your attention to the scene in front of you, the last few players sprinting toward the line like their lives depend on it.
well, you suppose they do.
soon after the final players make it, you and the others head back to main area. you notice the blood that stains the other players’ clothes, a permanent reminder of the bloodbath that had just occurred. you keep a watchful eye on su-bong, careful to maintain your distance so he doesn’t spot you.
the air is much more tense now, the uncertainties of the games hanging in the air like a thick fog. half of the room still trembles in fear, while the other half lounges around as though it were a normal day. you wonder if su-bong is scared, if he’s even fazed by this new, dark reality, or if the pills have clouded every last trace of his old self. you hate how much your mind wanders to the man, but you can’t help it—not when he’s here.
“hey, you okay?” a soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts. you’re greeted by the sight of the man from earlier who you hid behind, player 388.
“oh-uh, yeah, i guess.” you answer, unsure of how to respond.
of course you aren’t alright, how can anyone be?
he chuckles awkwardly, a blush rosying his cheeks. “sorry, uh, that was a dumb question. can i sit with you?”
you allow yourself to smile, quickly charmed by his bashful nature. “sure.”
he sits on the floor across from you, crossing his legs to get comfortable. “i’m dae-ho.”
you nod and tell him your name, then add, “thank you for being my human shield earlier, by the way. i don’t think i could’ve made it without you.” dae-ho chuckles at that, a delighted expression gracing his features.
“don’t mention it, i’m glad you made it.”
a comfortable silence falls between the two of you and you find yourself glancing over at su-bong again. he’s managed to accumulate a small squad of players to follow him around, much like the entourage of strung out men he’d always surround himself with at club pentagon.
typical.
you look back over at dae-ho and you’re about to ask him more about himself before the sound of the guards captures your attention.
“attention players, it is now time for the first vote to take place.” it doesn’t take long for a crowd to form, and the guards reveal they will call each player one by one to vote.
shit. so much for hiding from su-bong.
you slip into the crowd beside dae-ho, anxiously awaiting your number to be called. you both agree to vote x, fearful of what could happen if the games ensue. his number is called, and he votes as planned. a few minutes later, the guards call for player 230—su-bong.
you’re not sure why you’re so surprised when he presses the “o” button. you feel yourself grow nauseous at his demeanor, wondering how he could be so energized and borderline elated at a time like this. he saunters over to the “o” side with a smirk.
it feels like an eternity before your number is called and your heart begins to race as you make your way over to the buttons. your hand trembles as it hovers over the x, a red glow illuminating your palm. you press it firmly and steel yourself before turning around, sparing a glance in su-bong’s direction to ensure he hasn’t noticed you. you instantly lock eyes.
fuck.
the smirk on his face falters, melding into a look of confusion mixed with something else you can’t read. you quickly avert your gaze and slip back into the crowd beside dae-ho.
“you okay?” he asks gently, taking immediate note of your sullen expression.
“yeah,” you respond shakily, “just worried we won’t get out here.” it’s partly true.
“me too.” dae-ho agrees, swallowing thickly. you both watch the rest of the votes roll through in silence. minutes pass and 001 places the final vote. the “o” side erupts in cheers once they win and you feel your heart drop. you were lucky enough to make it through the first game, but you’re not so sure about what will come. part of you worries the games will get harder from here on out, but you try not to let yourself spiral. maybe 456 knows more about the games.
“shit.” dae-ho swears, running a hand through his hair, the action slightly thwarted by his ponytail. you glance up at the man and his expression is grim—he’s undoubtedly just as scared as you. “shit.” he repeats, though this time his attention is elsewhere. you turn around to follow his gaze; su-bong is headed right toward you.
“what the fuck are you doing here, baby?” su-bong questions worriedly, his eyes wide as though he’d seen a ghost. you briefly struggle to find the words to say as you watch the man who had broken your heart saunter over to you like it was nothing.
“don’t call me that.” you demand bitterly. “why should you care, anyway?” su-bong stops in front of you, reaching out to grab a hold of your hand. “don’t touch me.” you warn, flinching away from his touch.
su-bong tries to mask the way he cringes at your icy tone with a smirk. “oh come on, don’t be like that.” the way your name rolls off his tongue feels familiar, painful, and you swallow thickly at the sound of your ex lover’s voice. this is certainly not a conversation you want to have now, especially in front of dae-ho, and you glare at the purple-haired man in disdain.
“‘just leave me alone, su-bong.” you state shakily. from the corner of your eye, dae-ho stiffens beside you, observing the interaction intently. you silently pray he doesn’t get involved—you know all too well how prideful and short-tempered su-bong is, and he’d probably square up with the man in a heartbeat.
“you know i can’t do that, my girl. what the hell are you doing here?” he asks, softer this time, and you watch as he eyes dae-ho momentarily as though he’s sizing him up.
“what do you think i’m doing here, huh? trying to pay back all the debt you got me in. did you forget about that?” you ask angrily, amazed by his ignorance. had he even missed you at all? did the breakup even affect him whatsoever? did he hide from the pain with his pills or did he never care at all? you’re unsure.
“of course i can’t forget. that’s why i’m here, baby. wanted to make money so i could take care of us.”
you scoff at that, appalled by his manipulative words. does he really expect you to buy that? it’s been months and he hadn’t bothered to reach out once. now he wants to act like it was all for some noble cause to win you back over?
“bullshit.” you mutter. “and i told you to stop calling me that.” su-bong chuckles in response, gliding his tongue over his teeth. he maintains his composure, still his confident self as he replies, “you know you like it, girl. you don’t have to act tough. i know you love me, baby.”
you laugh bitterly, “no, i don’t. i don’t even know who you are anymore.” you wish the first part was true. you turn back around, your back to su-bong, and give dae-ho a look that screams please come with me. he doesn’t miss a beat and follows you back to your bunk, leaving su-bong in the dust.
dae-ho waits for you to speak. it takes a few moments, but you finally reveal, “su-bong and i broke up a few months ago. i can’t believe that egotistical prick is here.” you hate how your voice shakes.
“i’m sorry, he seems like a real douchebag.” dae-ho replies quietly, averting his gaze to the floor. you nod in agreement, suddenly embarrassed to even be telling him this—for him to have witnessed that.
“i’m sorry you had to see that.”
“it’s okay, no worries at all. i’m sorry you even have to go through that.” you smile at his sweet words, nodding in gratitude. there’s a pause before you ask him, “so, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”
dae-ho hesitates before explaining how his father forced him to join the marines and shortly after, he found himself in 630 million won worth of debt. the two of you continue to talk about your lives before the games; how dae-ho has four older sisters, how you’ve only lived in south korea for around three years. you’re surprised by how easy it is to talk to him, how intently he listens to you, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve truly felt heard in months.
when dinner time rolls around, dae-ho suggests the two of you talk to 456, who you soon learn is named gi-hun. the older man fills you two in on his first experience in the games, where he barely won, and explains how the second game may be dalgona. however, when you enter the arena the following day, you’re met with a different game: the six-legged pentathlon. you band together with dae-ho and three others, somehow making it out alive.
you can’t help but notice su-bong does too.
after the second game, another voting process ensues. “o” wins again, and you’re not surprised when you see thanos hit the blue button, undoubtedly high as he practically makes out with the button. you scoff to yourself at the sight of the man you once loved, now a complete shell of who he once was.
“shit, i can’t believe people still want to stay.” dae-ho utters dejectedly beside you, breaking you from your thoughts of su-bong. you sigh in defeat, “me neither.”
when you rejoin gi-hun and the others, you feel su-bong’s eyes on you. you’re sure he’s noticed how you and dae-ho have been practically attached at the hip and you wonder if it makes him jealous, like you were when you saw him talking to that girl during red light, green light. feeling uncomfortable beneath his gaze, you slip away from the group to use the bathroom, uneasy as a guard escorts you to the women’s room.
you’re not sure how you made it this far and your anxiety worsens as you begin to think about tomorrow’s game. based on the stories gi-hun has told, it seems as though things will only go downhill from here. you have no idea what to expect and no hope you’ll make it out of here alive. you’re washing your face in the sink when you hear the bathroom door creak open. you glance over and see a familiar tuft of purple hair.
how the hell did he get in here?
“you okay, my girl?” su-bong asks softly, approaching you hesitantly. you sigh at the sound of his voice, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters in response.
“what do you think?” you ask dryly, using the sleeve of your jacket to dry your face. su-bong steps closer, bringing up his own sleeve to wipe off a stray droplet of water you missed.
“look, i know i messed up, but i swear i’m gonna make things right.” his hand drops so it cups your cheek.
you lean away from his touch, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you mumble sadly, “just like you did before?” you’re tired of acting angry at him when deep down, all you are is hurt. su-bong frowns, gently snaking his arms around your waist to tug you closer to him. this time, you don’t pull away.
he sighs, “i know i fucked up, baby. that’s why i’m here. i know you don’t believe me now but i swear i’ll make it up to you, okay? just need you to trust me.” you bite the inside of your cheek and look away, internally battling with yourself.
part of you thinks he’s lying. you’ve heard every empty promise under the sun from the man, and all it got you was into millions of dollars worth of debt and a shitty, teal tracksuit.
but another part of you can’t help but believe him. he sounds genuine, now, and you wonder if the pills wore off. he’s talking in that soft voice of his that reminds you of su-bong, not thanos, and it sends you reeling.
but if that’s true, why hadn’t he reached out all those months? why didn’t he fight for you, try to change and win you back then?
as though he could read your mind, he continues, “i’m sorry for not calling. i thought you hated me and it made me sick to my stomach, girl. i didn’t want to think about how i treated you because all it did was make me mad that i let a girl as perfect as you go. i’ve been miserable ever since. shit, i walked all the way to the han bridge to jump before that fuckin’ guy in the suit came up to me and asked me to play ddakji. i was gonna end it all.” his words make the tears finally fall from your eyes and you look back up at the man.
“su-bong…” you can’t prevent the sob from escaping your lips and su-bong pulls you into his chest, tightening his grasp on your waist so you fall into him. you wrap your arms around his torso, balling the fabric of his sweatshirt into your fists as though he was going to slip right through your fingers. you know you shouldn’t give into the man so easily, the one who broke nearly every promise he ever made to you until it left you heartbroken and penniless, but you can’t help it.
“i love you.” you admit between sobs, overwhelmed by the wave of emotions you’re feeling. su-bong moves a hand from your waist to pet your hair, placing his chin atop your head.
“i love you too, my girl. so much. i promise i won’t ever leave you again, alright?” you can only nod into his chest, feeling your sobs begin to subside as the man calms you down. you sniffle a bit, pulling away from his hold after a few moments to wipe away your tears. su-bong looks down at you with a pained smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and aids you in wiping your eyes. you let out a shaky sigh, daring to look over at the mirror to meet your splotchy, tear-stained face.
“damn, i’m a wreck.” you let out a watery chuckle and move to splash your face with cold water once again. your heart soars as you feel su-bong hold your hair back. he rubs a hand down your back reassuringly. “you’re still the most beautiful girl i know.” he muses quietly, staring at you in the mirror. you suddenly feel shy beneath his gaze, but regain your composure with a smirk as you reply, “thanks. you’re still the hottest guy i know, even though you’re an idiot.”
su-bong lets out a genuine laugh, moving closer so you’re caged in between his arms and the sink. “oh yeah?” he asks lowly, causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies. you’d nearly forgotten how attractive he truly is, even without trying. “hotter than that guy who’s been following you around since you got here?”
aha, so he was jealous. sneaky bastard.
“yeah.” you answer breathlessly, noticing how his eyes dart down to your lips. it doesn’t take long for him to lean in, kissing you with a softness that soon melds into passion once you kiss him back. his lips move languidly against yours, foreign after all these months, yet oh so familiar. after a moment, su-bong starts to get rougher, his hands wandering to your waist as he presses himself into you. he bites your bottom lip and you gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth effortlessly. you feel heat rush to your core as su-bong growls softly into your mouth, needy and desperate after months without your touch. you need him just as bad.
you slip your hands beneath su-bong’s shirt, trying to feel every inch of his body as though to make up for the lost time. tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss, you let a moan slip out as he moves to grope your breasts. he pulls away breathlessly, letting his gaze flicker down to your hands, and rasps, “need you so bad, baby.” you can only nod rapidly in response, glancing around the bathroom before your eyes land on a stall.
su-bong wastes no time in rushing over to the stall, barely locking the door before he has your back pressed against it. “need your pussy so bad, you have no idea.” he groans achingly. his lips are back on yours and his hands fumble with your pants. he eventually tugs them down, along with your underwear, leaving you bare from the waist down. you have no time to feel shy or embarrassed before su-bong brings his fingers down to your clit, rubbing it with just enough force to make you moan loudly into his mouth.
“shh, my sweet girl. wouldn’t want the guards to hear now, would we?” you clamp a hand over your mouth as su-bong slips a finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out of your core until you’re dripping all over his hand. he soon adds another, quickening the pace so you’re squelching around him. “fuck, baby. is all of this for me?”
you nod desperately, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to stay quiet. “hmm, can’t hear you?” su-bong smirks, seemingly forgetting about his previous words as he encourages to to be louder. he loves the way he ruins you, how he knows exactly how to touch you to make you come undone, even after all this time.
“y-yes, baby, fuck.” you whimper as quietly as you can, gripping his free arm tightly to steady yourself against the door. su-bong slows his fingers, then pulls them out completely, bringing them to his lips so he can taste you. you try not to whimper at the lack of contact. “you taste so good baby, fuck. i missed you so much, can’t wait any longer.” he’s kicking off his pants and boxers in seconds, letting them drop to the ground before he settles onto the toilet seat. he guides you so you’re sitting on his lip, your pussy hovering over his dick so teasingly it makes su-bong grunt. “need to feel you.” he practically whines, lining up his member with you so that his tip is at your entrance.
“please fuck me.” you whimper, your legs practically shaking in anticipation as he teases you. su-bong wordlessly thrusts up, allowing you to sink completely onto his cock, and the two of you barely stifle your moans as he finally slips inside. “oh god.” you groan, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. su-bong throws his head back, attempting to contain himself as you clench around him. “shit, baby. you’re so tight.” you hadn’t even moved yet and you can already tell you won’t last long. there’s no hope for su-bong either.
su-bong’s hands rest on your waist, guiding you as you bounce on his member. you can’t remember the last time you felt this full, this euphoric, and you throw your head back in ecstasy. su-bong is a mess beneath you, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to last. “fuck…missed you so much, baby. needed your pussy so bad. so fuckin’ bad.” he moans lowly, meeting your thrusts with the buck of his hips. you gasp at the action, his tip hitting a part of you that nearly has you seeing stars.
“o-oh my god, su-bong, right there!” you whine desperately, tipping your head forward so it rests on his shoulder. you hear him pant heavily in your ear, his breaths shaky as you continue to clench around him. then, suddenly, he stands the two of you up, turning you around so you’re bent over in front of him. still inside of you, he begins to pound you harder, his hands gripping your hips so tight they’re sure to leave bruises.
“yeah, right there, baby? you gonna cum for me?” he grunts deeply, maintaining his brutal pace. the sound of your skin slapping together echoes throughout the bathroom and you wouldn’t be surprised if the guards could hear you outside. “y-yes, su-bong, fuck.” you moan, placing your hands on the wall in front of you to keep your balance. your response doesn’t seem to satisfy su-bong, though, and he lifts up a hand to tug your hair, leaning forward so his lips are right beside your ear. “what was that baby? i couldn’t hear you.”
“yes, su-bong, right there, please.” you cry out, louder this time. he’s fucking you into oblivion, and you know you won’t last long. but su-bong is relentless.
“yeah? am i fucking you better than he can?” he grunts, undoubtedly referring to dae-ho. you had completely forgotten about the man, for obvious reasons. “yes, baby, so much better.” you whine, the familiar knot in your stomach beginning to unravel as he pounds into your g-spot repeatedly. he seems to sense this and he brings his hand down to your clit, rubbing it with enough force to make you stutter out a moan.
“want you to scream my name and prove it, my girl. want him to hear how good i’m fucking you so he knows you’re mine.” his words send you over the edge and soon enough you’re shrieking out moans, su-bong’s unrelenting pace causing you to release all over him. you repeat his name like a mantra, your entire body trembling as you come undone around the man. even once you come down, you continue to moan desperately, sensitive as su-bong maintains his rough pace. a few thrusts later, though, his hips are stuttering, signaling he’s close to his own release.
su-bong groans deeply as he approaches his orgasm, leaning down to hold you by the chest so he can get impossibly closer. “fuck, i love you so much, my girl. so, so much. g-gonna fuck you forever, baby, i promise.” he practically growls, thrusting into you a few more times before pulling out to release all over your back. he moans softly as he cums, rocking into his hand like his life depends on it. su-bong stills after he finishes, keeping a firm hold on your body to steady himself. you tremble beneath him. after a few moments, he stands up straight to clean you up, using the roll of toilet paper that is conveniently right beside you. once he’s finished, he helps you stand up so you face him.
“you okay, baby?” su-bong’s voice is soft, now. he steadies you by placing his hands on your hips. you nod blissfully, leaning into his chest as you try to process what the hell just happened. you don’t regret it, though.
“mhm, more than okay.” you sigh into his shoulder, hugging him for a moment. su-bong chuckles and pats your head before pulling away. “we should probably get back before the guards try to join in.”
you laugh at that and agree, shakily slipping your clothes back on with the help of su-bong. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before ushering you out of the stall, his hand in yours as he leads the way back to the main area. you’re nervous, now, as you come back to reality, realizing dae-ho and the others have probably been wondering where you’ve been. there’s no way you can explain what just happened, but you’re sure you don’t have to, anyway.
your suspicions are only confirmed when you meet eyes with dae-ho, who looks both mortified and disappointed as he notices your hand in su-bong’s. you briefly feel bad for the man, but remind yourself you hardly even know him. you know su-bong like no other.
you tear your attention away from dae-ho when you near su-bong’s entourage, a group made up of three guys and a girl. he introduces you to each of them as his girlfriend, his arm wrapped around your waist proudly as the others greet you. then, su-bong fumbles with the necklace around his neck and rips it off, tossing it over to his friend, nam-gyu. “you can take that, nam-su, i don’t need it anymore.”
“nam-gyu, but thanks.” the man’s eyes light up as he opens up the cross, revealing a myriad of multicolored pills. you’re shocked at su-bong’s actions, and smile to yourself. you have no idea what tomorrow will look like, or if you’ll even make it past then, but you’re at least sure of the fact that you have su-bong by your side, and that’s enough to calm the rapid beating of your heart for now.
woo, first fic alert!! hope you enjoyed. this was originally going to be a dae-ho x reader fic but i just love thanos so bad. also i apologize if it's a bit fast-paced, i stayed up until 6am writing this ahhh
“Nobody’s saved me a seat again, I see,” I huffed, my pink blanket draped over me almost completely.
Ji-yong and Daesung were practically cuddling on the couch, exchanging a quiet giggle when my eyes inevitably landed on Seunghyun. He was on the other couch, a space next to him, staring at his phone with his usual ‘I’m T.O.P, I don’t care about anything but myself’ expression.
Me and him… we never really saw eye to eye. Not for any particular reason. He was just a dick.
With a dramatic fling of my arms, I gave up on finding a better seat and plopped down next to him. My blanket fell over my bare legs—barely covered by my shorts. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, then went back to the screen. That was the usual with him—dry, indifferent, meh.
“Okay, now everyone is suited and booted, let’s get this wonderful sleepover started!” Daesung beamed, smirking because he knew my night was basically ruined by the tall, pink-haired man beside me.
“Woohoo,” I deadpanned.
The movie started, and they were instantly hooked by the chaos and gore flashing across the screen. I wasn’t. I was squeamish enough that I found myself looking anywhere else every few seconds.
This movie is not that interesting.
I started fiddling with my thumbs, then tried watching again—only to be greeted with more blood. And now, somehow, zebras? What even was this?
Beside me, Seunghyun shifted, leaning back into the couch with his legs spread wider. My space shrank to a sliver. Prick.
I turned to glare at him… and immediately regretted it. His messy pink hair caught the dim light, and my gaze drifted lower to the sharp line of his jaw. Black t-shirt, grey sweatpants—he looked unfairly good tonight.
I caught myself licking my lips.
Usually, I didn’t have time to notice—he’d open his mouth and ruin it. But now? He was silent, laser-focused on the movie.
Then his elbow nudged mine, jolting me out of my thoughts. I looked up quickly, heat rushing to my cheeks. His smirk told me everything: he’d noticed.
I glued my eyes back to the TV.
A moment later, his arm settled along the back of the couch. My pulse jumped.
“I’m cold. Can I have some of the blanket?” His voice was casual, but he didn’t look at me—he kept glancing at the others, like he was doing something he shouldn’t.
I passed it over. He covered his legs… and kept mine covered too.
That’s when I felt it—his hand brushing my knee. Not in a grabby way, just… there. Testing. Asking.
I hesitated, then shifted a little closer, my legs curling to the side so I was almost leaning into him.
If anyone looked, they’d immediately be suspicious of the space we had so subtly closed in the darkness , two people who hate eachother almost cuddling.
His fingers began tracing small, slow shapes on my leg. Each movement was deliberate, like he wanted me to notice but not call it out. I bit my lip, pretending to watch the movie.
Then Ji-yong’s voice cut through the air.
“Woah—what the hell?” His eyes widened. “No way you two are sitting that close.” He nudged Daesung, who looked over and broke into a grin.
“Seunghyun’s called a truce,” Daesung teased.
“It’s cold,” Seunghyun said flatly, not even glancing at them.
The others laughed, going back to the screen, but my heart was still pounding. He leaned just close enough for his shoulder to brush mine, his voice low enough for only me to hear.
“Still cold?”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I just shook my head.
But the way his smirk deepened told me he knew exactly what kind of heat I meant.
Summary: You’ve known Choi Seunghyun your entire life—sharing secrets, inside jokes, and a seven-minute walk between houses. But everything changes when an innocent hangout turns into accidentally discovering his very personal side hustle—one that features his familiar moans, his bedroom, and, well… him. What starts with awkward questions and teasing spirals into something you both can’t walk back from. The only solution? Another seven-minute walk. And a promise to finally cross the line you’ve both been toeing for years.
warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, squirting, oral sex, m & f receiving, slight public risk (parents nearly catch them)
wordcount: 24k
Saturday – 2:14 PM
Your room smells like fabric softener and regret.
You’re half-splayed across your bed in the least flattering position known to man—one sock on, one sock missing, a mechanical pencil stabbing your thigh, and some half-finished math homework open in front of you like it personally insulted your entire bloodline.
You stab a problem set with your eraser. “Why are numbers allowed to have letters in them.”
Your phone buzzes beside your head. You groan, blindly reaching for it like it owes you money.
[Seunghyun 🧠]
come over.
parents not home.
i have snacks.
we can rot together.
[Seunghyun 🧠]
also ur dumb if u say no 😐
You blink at the screen.
Rotting with Seunghyun usually meant one of three things:
Watching horror movies too late and accusing each other of sleep paralysis demons.
Dramatically reading fanfics in British accents until one of you fake gags.
Falling asleep on opposite ends of his couch mid-snack, then waking up in weird yoga poses.
You stare at your homework again. It stares back, menacingly.
You reply:
on my way dumbass.
if u eat all the chips before i get there i’m keying ur bike
[Seunghyun 🧠]
bring ur charger i lost mine
again
also ur toxic lol
You snort, rolling out of bed with all the grace of a dying sea lion, grabbing your hoodie, earbuds, and—because you’ve known him since you were five—your backup hoodie. He never has clean ones.
The walk to Seunghyun’s house is muscle memory at this point. You could do it blindfolded, backward, and probably drunk, not that you've ever tried. The spring sun is out but being annoying about it—just hot enough to make you regret the hoodie, but not hot enough to justify going back for a t-shirt.
By the time you reach his front gate, it’s already open, like always. The “Beware of Dog” sign is still taped to it, even though the only dog in this house is Seunghyun when he eats chips too fast and chokes.
You don’t bother knocking.
“YO,” you call out, kicking your shoes off as you enter. “I’m here. Hide your shits.”
“Kitchen,” his voice echoes faintly.
You find him by the fridge, halfway through dumping a family-sized bag of chips into a mixing bowl like it’s cereal. He’s in sweats, hair still kind of fluffy from sleep, and wearing the ugliest Garfield t-shirt you’ve ever seen in your life.
“You look like a man who has made peace with failure,” you say, pointing at his shirt.
“Wow.” You drop your charger on the table and grab a chip. “This is how you treat someone who generously walked seven minutes in the heat for your company?”
“You did that because you were bored and hate math.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me before 3 p.m., thanks.”
He grins and tilts the bowl toward you in apology. “Truce?”
You take another chip and nod. “Truce. Now let me rot on your couch in peace.”
You flop onto the familiar worn-out couch in the living room, legs sprawled, phone already in hand. He follows behind, grabbing two sodas and tossing one at you without looking. It lands near your ribs. You don’t flinch—he always misses by just a little.
“Wanna watch something dumb?” he asks, already grabbing the TV remote.
“Obviously. Put on that one where the guy falls in love with a sentient GPS.”
“Oh god, that movie is so bad.”
“Exactly. Art.”
—
You’re halfway through the movie—if it can be called that—when Seunghyun starts shifting around like he’s sitting on a cactus.
You glance over. “You good?”
“I need to shower,” he says like it’s a tragic confession. “I smell like stress and ramen.”
“Then shower,” you say, deadpan. “I’m not holding you hostage.”
“I just hate leaving you unattended in my house.”
“Wow. That sounds like your problem.”
He sighs like a martyr and pushes himself up from the couch, grabbing a towel from the back of the chair. “Don’t steal my stuff.”
“I’m literally not you. I don’t hoard pens and forget I own clothes.”
“Touch my hoodie drawer and I’m calling the cops.”
“Already did. They said you dress like a divorced dad.”
He flips you off on his way down the hall, and you grin, settling deeper into the couch.
A minute passes. Two.
Then boredom hits like a freight train.
You glance around.
TV? Boring.
Phone? Dead.
Snacks? You ate most of them.
Seunghyun’s computer? Lit up and unlocked like an open invitation from Satan himself.
You crane your neck.
The screen shows a mess of tabs—YouTube, Discord, a few half-written school docs titled “maybe essay FINAL FINAL fr this time,” and…
A very pink, very adult-looking website sitting right in the middle.
You blink.
Lean closer.
Squint.
No. Way.
“Seunghyunnnnnn,” you yell toward the bathroom, biting back a grin. “I’m gonna play Fortnite on your computer, okay?”
A muffled, “Yeah whatever!” echoes from behind the door. There’s the sound of the shower running and a shampoo bottle falling with a thud.
You scoot into the computer chair like a gremlin and close the innocent tabs first.
Then you hover over the not-so-innocent one.
You shouldn’t.
You really shouldn’t.
But curiosity is already punching your morals in the throat.
You click it open.
The page loads.
A creator profile.
Blurred thumbnails.
Username: TopOfTheClass.
You choke. "Oh my god."
And then you see it.
A video titled “Late Night Study Session 🎧💦”.
Posted three days ago.
You click.
Bad decisions are being made in real-time.
And the second the video starts—bare skin, familiar room, that groan you’ve heard before but not like this—you freeze. Eyes wide. Mouth hanging open.
The voice.
The body.
The room.
ITS DEFINITELY SEUNGHYUN.
You slam the spacebar to pause just as the bathroom door swings open.
He’s standing in the hallway, towel slung low on his hips, hair damp, expression slowly morphing from relaxed to what the fuck.
“What are you doing on my—”
You turn in the chair like the guilty raccoon you are, blinking at him.
There is a full ten seconds of dead silence.
Seunghyun stares at you.
You stare at Seunghyun.
The paused video stares at both of you.
You clear your throat like you're rebooting your entire operating system.
“So,” you start, voice cracking like a preteen in puberty, “just to confirm… that’s… you?”
He raises an eyebrow, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. “I mean… yeah?”
“Like you-you? Choi Seunghyun? My best friend since we were in diapers? The guy who cried during Toy Story 3?”
He shrugs. “It was a sad movie.”
“That’s not the point, you absolute lunatic!”
You shoot up from the chair like it’s electrocuted you, pacing the room now, hands flailing wildly as you process.
“How long has this been happening?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Do you get paid?”
“Do your parents know?”
“Do you moan like that on purpose or—”
“Is your username supposed to be ironic or is this a weird flex?”
“Wait—did you film that in your bedroom? While I was probably texting you?!”
Seunghyun rubs the back of his neck, unfazed. “Uh. Since summer. Yeah. Yes. No. I guess? And it was a Tuesday.”
You whirl around. “A TUESDAY?”
He smirks. “You were at Chae’s house that day, remember? You sent me, like, 12 selfies of you guys wearing face masks and eating cereal.”
You gape at him like he just confessed to murder.
“I was sending you memes while you were filming amateur porn in the same zip code?!”
“Pretty much.”
“Are you hearing yourself?!”
He shrugs again, like you just asked if he wants orange juice. “I don’t see the big deal.”
You make a high-pitched sound that could kill dogs. “OF COURSE YOU DON’T, YOU’RE NAKED ON THE INTERNET.”
He finally cracks a grin, towel still casually riding his hips like it paid rent there. “Well, not fully naked. I crop the face.”
You make eye contact with him. Then with the screen. Then back to him.
Your voice is flat. “Seunghyun. You literally moaned your own name.”
“…Oh.”
“I’M TRAUMATIZED.”
You throw a couch pillow at his chest with the force of a thousand suns. He catches it, still grinning like this is the funniest thing that’s happened to him all week.
“Why are you not embarrassed?!”
He plops onto the couch with absolutely no shame, towel riding way too high up his thigh now. “Because I look good. And the lighting was nice. And you’re the one who watched it.”
“I WAS CURIOUS—NOT HORNY.”
He raises a hand in surrender. “Hey, you do you. Or, well. Me. Technically.”
You grab another pillow and scream into it.
You're still holding the pillow like it’s a lifeline, staring at him like he just announced he’s an alien. Which, at this point, wouldn’t surprise you.
“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter into the fabric.
“Thanks,” he says casually, propping one arm on the couch like this is just a Tuesday afternoon with trauma.
You sit there for a moment. Still. Staring at him.
At the smug expression on his face. At the damp collarbone glistening under the light. At the way the towel is still defying gravity in ways science can’t explain.
Unfortunately, your eyes flicker lower for one—one—second too long.
And he catches it.
His smirk curls higher.
“See something you like?”
Your soul leaves your body.
“I—NO. I was—shut up. I wasn’t looking. I was—panicking.”
He stretches, arms over his head like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and lets out the most unnecessary sigh. “Mmm. You sure? ‘Cause you were really analyzing video earlier.”
You scream into the pillow again.
“STOP BRINGING THAT UP.”
“I’m just saying.” His voice drops just slightly, teasing. “Not everyone gets to see that angle.”
You glance at him through your fingers.
“Do you… always talk like that after someone finds your sex tapes, or am I just special?”
He hums, eyes half-lidded now, like he’s enjoying this way too much. “You’re the first person to ever catch me.”
“Lucky me,” you deadpan. “Is there a loyalty card or something?”
He laughs—low, warm, familiar. It’s still Seunghyun. But now your brain won’t shut up about the other version of him too.
And then it happens.
The shift.
You’re both quiet.
Not like awkward quiet, but the kind where something just clicked into place and neither of you knows what to do with it.
His eyes linger on yours a beat too long. Your heart stumbles.
He tilts his head, still watching you.
“...You wanna ask anything else?”
You swallow. “Are you seriously opening the floor for a Q&A about your porn career?”
“Sure,” he shrugs. “You already saw the goods.”
“SEUNGHYUN.”
He leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees, towel riding even lower now. His voice drops again, smooth and a little too calm.
“You really didn’t think about it before?”
You blink. “What?”
“Me,” he says simply. “Like that.”
Your breath catches.
For the first time all afternoon, you don’t have a snappy comeback.
He grins again, this time a little softer. A little more dangerous.
“That’s what I thought.”
You don’t answer him right away.
Because what even is the right response to your best friend sitting half-naked across from you, casually asking if you’ve ever thought about him like that—right after you watched him moan his own name into a camera?
You can feel your brain buffering.
So, naturally, you go with the dumbest possible response.
“…Have you ever thought about me like that?”
He doesn’t even blink. “Obviously.”
Your entire spine short-circuits. “WHAT—”
“I mean,” he says casually, like you just asked if he likes ramen, “you’re hot. It’s not exactly classified information.”
“I—I—HOT?!” You sound like a broken microwave.
“Yeah. Why are you acting like that’s shocking?”
“I don’t know,” you flail, “maybe because you’ve seen me with toothpaste on my face and cry-laughed when I dropped my phone on it.”
“Still hot.”
“You need professional help.”
He leans back against the couch, the towel riding scandalously low now, like it’s in a committed relationship with gravity. His eyes drag over you in a way they never have before—not like a joke, not like your goofy best friend teasing you. Like he’s really looking.
“...You ever kissed someone before?” he asks suddenly.
You freeze. “What?”
“You know. Just curious.” He shrugs. “You don’t have to answer if—”
“I haven’t,” you blurt. “I mean—not, like, for real. Just dumb school dares.”
He pauses. “Huh.”
You squint. “Why ‘huh’?”
He shrugs again. “Me neither.”
Your brain does the math.
Choi Seunghyun. The guy with the porn account. The guy whose body you just accidentally studied like a science project. Also a virgin?
“But—then—why the—”
“I was curious,” he says, a bit quieter now. “And it was kinda fun to mess around. Just didn’t wanna do stuff with someone I didn’t actually... care about, y’know?”
You blink.
And suddenly everything feels louder. The clock ticking. The silence between you. The air buzzing with something sharp and sweet and terrifying.
You’re still sitting across from each other—but now it feels like you’re on the edge of a cliff, one more step from something you can’t undo.
Seunghyun’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“...Do you wanna try?”
You blink again. “Try what?”
He looks at you. Really looks.
“Kissing. With someone you actually care about.”
Your heart slams against your ribs.
He’s not smirking now. He’s not teasing. He’s just... waiting. Soft. Real. Bare.
You swallow.
“You're weird..But…Okay.”
The tension is thick, clinging to the air between you like smoke.
Your heart is beating too fast, like it’s trying to run away from you, but your body is frozen in place. Seunghyun’s still watching you, calm and steady, but his eyes are darker now—like he’s thinking too much about the words he just said.
You lick your lips, trying to steady your breath, but it doesn’t help. It only makes you more aware of how close he is, of how the room suddenly feels too small, too intimate, and the space between you feels like it’s buzzing with this wild energy.
“Are you…” you start, but your voice is hoarse, caught in your throat. “Are you sure?”
Seunghyun leans in a little, just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. His hand shifts on the couch beside him like he’s trying to control himself too, but his fingers twitch—almost brushing yours. But not quite. He’s teasing, even in this moment.
“I’m sure,” he murmurs, his voice soft but steady, like he’s trying to pull you into this new reality between you. “We don’t have to rush it, though. I can just—”
He stops. His gaze drops to your lips for a second. Then he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the soft light. And that’s when the energy shifts. He’s the one leaning in now, his knee brushing against yours, and you can feel it—that spark—the need, the want, everything building up.
Seunghyun’s fingers barely graze the side of your face, and the touch is electric. He pauses, as if waiting for you to pull away, but you don’t. You don’t move.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his voice just a whisper now.
You nod, a little breathless. “Yes.”
That’s all the permission he needs.
His hand moves from your face to the back of your neck, his touch firm but gentle, guiding you closer. You can feel the heat of his skin on yours, the way his thumb softly brushes against your jaw, and your heart skips a beat.
The first kiss is soft—tentative. You close your eyes, and his lips meet yours in a way that’s almost too sweet, too innocent. It’s like both of you are testing the waters, trying to figure out what comes next.
Then, without warning, Seunghyun pulls you a little closer. His hand at your neck tightens just enough that you’re drawn in, your lips parting instinctively. And that’s when he deepens the kiss, just slightly—gently at first, but then more insistent, like he can’t help himself. His hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer, and that’s when you feel it—the pressure, the way his body fits against yours, how it feels too natural, too right.
You let out a soft gasp, and Seunghyun takes advantage of it, his lips moving against yours with more urgency now. One of his hands slides lower, skimming the edge of your shirt before stopping, like he’s unsure, like he’s waiting for you to pull away or tell him to stop.
But you don’t. You don’t pull away.
Instead, you shift a little closer, your own hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. His lips are on yours again, but this time it’s different—faster, deeper, the pressure building between you, and you can’t even think straight anymore. All you can feel is the heat, the electric pull of his touch, the way his hands are so gentle and yet so insistent, like he’s trying to pull you into him.
His fingers press against the curve of your waist, and you gasp as his touch slides a little lower. It’s innocent, and yet not at all. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, like you’re both testing boundaries, seeing how far this can go.
“Seunghyun,” you breathe, breaking the kiss just for a moment. “Wait…”
He pulls back slightly, eyes clouded with need and curiosity. He doesn’t speak, just waits, his hands hovering at your waist as if asking for permission to go further.
You don’t know what you’re doing—you have no idea. But you’re so close now, both of you, standing on the edge of something new, something that feels like it could break everything between you.
But you don’t want it to break. You want to fall. Together.
You tug him back in, kissing him with a newfound urgency. And this time, there’s no question—everything you’ve been holding back comes rushing forward. His hands trail lower, his touch is everywhere, and there’s no going back now.
Your shirt comes off first.
Neither of you really says anything. It just happens—your hands tugging at the hem because the air is too thick, and you’re too warm, and Seunghyun’s kiss is burning you alive. He pulls back just enough to help you, his fingers trembling a little as they slide under the fabric.
It’s the first time he’s seen you like this. Really seen you.
And for a second, he just stares.
You try to cross your arms instinctively, self-conscious—but he catches your wrists before you can.
“Don’t,” he whispers, voice low and rough. “Don’t hide from me.”
You swallow, heart thudding hard, and he leans in again—pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your neck. His hands roam like he’s memorizing you, like he’s waited years to touch you but didn’t realize it until now.
He kisses down your body like he’s on a mission—slow, purposeful, dragging his mouth over your chest, your stomach, until he’s between your thighs and your brain short-circuits.
“Wait—Seunghyun—” you gasp as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Y-you don’t have to—”
He looks up, already flushed, lips slightly parted. “I want to. Just… let me?”
And before you can answer, his mouth is on you.
Hot. Wet. Unreal.
His tongue moves in slow, steady strokes through your folds, pausing to suck on your clit like he knows exactly what he’s doing—which makes no sense because he shouldn’t. But his hands are firm on your thighs, keeping them spread, his mouth locked onto you with messy, filthy dedication.
“F–fuck,” you moan, your hand flying to his hair. “S-Seunghyun—”
He hums into you, the vibration making you jolt. His tongue circles, flicks, presses, and then—without warning—he slides one finger inside you.
You let out a choked cry, hips bucking. He groans.
“So wet,” he murmurs against your cunt. “God, baby, you taste so fucking good.”
“D-don’t say that—” you whimper.
But he’s not listening. He’s locked in, eating you like it’s the only thing that matters. His finger curls inside you and his mouth focuses on your clit—lips soft, tongue relentless—and the pressure builds fast.
Your legs start to tremble, a scream bubbling in your throat.
“I’m gonna—oh my god—Seunghyun, I—I think—”
You’ve never done this before. Never even thought you could. But the way his mouth works you, how he fingers you deeper, faster—something snaps inside.
And you squirt.
With a loud, helpless moan, your body jerks, back arching off the couch as a rush of liquid spills out of you, coating his mouth, his hand, the couch cushion under you. Your vision goes white for a second—your brain short-circuiting from sheer intensity.
Seunghyun pulls back, soaked and panting, staring at you like you just performed a magic trick.
“…Did you just—” he breathes, licking his lips, “—fuck. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You cover your face with both hands, mortified. “Oh my god. I didn’t mean to—what even was that—?!”
“That,” he says, voice low and way too satisfied, “was you squirting all over my face.”
You groan into your hands. “I’m gonna die.”
He grins, kissing up your body, his face still damp. “You’re not dying. I won’t let you. Not until I fuck you—”
Your heart’s still racing, your body buzzing, your thighs sore in the best way. His cock flushed and leaking, and positions himself between your legs.
“You sure?” he asks, breathless.
You nod. “Seunghyun, please—”
And just as he’s about to slide in—
A car door slams outside.
You both freeze.
“…No,” he whispers.
Footsteps. Keys jangling.
You both look at each other, wide-eyed.
“No no no no no—” you whisper, scrambling to grab your clothes.
Seunghyun’s already off the couch, tripping over his towel. “Why are they home early?!”
You grab your shirt backwards, underwear? God knows where, your legs still literally soaked. The condom’s on the floor. Seunghyun tosses it in the drawer in a panic.
And just as the front door opens—
You dive behind his bed, shirt barely on, heart racing like a siren.
7:02PM
Seunghyun’s mom calls out from downstairs, keys jingling as she drops them in the bowl by the door.
“We’re home! Seunghyun, did you remember to—what smells like Febreze in here?”
You are barefoot, pantless, and hiding behind his bed like a damn war criminal, still trying to catch your breath while wiping your thighs with the nearest hoodie (his). You hiss-whisper toward him:
“Why do you keep Febreze under your desk?!”
“In case I microwave fish,” he hisses back.
You shoot him a look like boy what.
Downstairs, footsteps thump closer. Seunghyun throws on some sweats and a hoodie like he wasn't half a second from rawing his best friend, then grabs your shirt and whispers, “I’ll get you out through the garage. Just follow me.”
You clutch your clothes and army crawl behind him until you make it to the hallway—silent, stealthy, adrenaline pumping like you’re in a spy movie. He holds the garage door open, signals you to go, then closes it behind you like a damn criminal disposing evidence.
You finally make it to the street, panting. Hair messy. Lips swollen. Hoodie ten sizes too big. Underwear = MIA.
Seunghyun cracks open the side gate a few minutes later and slips out like a raccoon.
You both look at each other, disheveled and wide-eyed, then—
burst into hysterical laughter.
“I cannot believe that just happened,” you wheeze.
“I’m so sorry you had to crawl around my house with post-squirt legs,” he says, tears in his eyes from laughing.
“Why’d you say it like that?!” you smack his arm. “You’re so annoying!”
Sunday, 3:41PM
Chae (🌀): u didn't reply last night. r u dead
You: No
You: I was with Seunghyun
Chae (🌀): girl.
Later that evening
You’re at a convenience store, trying to decide between two types of instant ramen when Seunghyun’s name lights up your phone.
Seunghyun 🦖: so are we just not gonna talk about how i made you squirt and then didn’t even get to put it in
Seunghyun 🦖: is this the universe’s version of edging
You: STOP
You: I WAS FINALLY NOT THINKING ABOUT IT FOR 5 MINUTES
Seunghyun 🦖: u weren’t thinking about how u soaked my face and moaned my name and almost broke my neck with ur thighs?
You: BYE
You: actually blocked. report.
Seunghyun 🦖: 😏
You: …but also
You: what the hell are we now???
A beat.
Then—
Seunghyun 🦖: …do you wanna come over tomorrow?
Seunghyun 🦖: for the unfinished business
You: ??
You: bring the febreze.
Monday – 6:39PM
You stare at Seunghyun’s text one more time as you stand outside his house:
Seunghyun 🦖: and don’t forget to wipe that ‘i squirted on my best friend’s face’ look off your face. my mom’s home.
You: 😐
Also you: ringing the doorbell anyway like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime.
The door swings open.
“y/n!” Seunghyun’s mom beams like sunshine in an apron. “Aigoo, you came again? So pretty, always polite—come in, come in!”
You smile with a bow, trying not to visibly sweat guilt. “Hi, Mrs. Choi. I—um—just here to hang out again.”
She pats your shoulder and leads you into the house like it’s totally normal to have the boy who made you squirt waiting upstairs. “I just made pizza. Homemade dough! You young people love this Western food, right?”
“Of course! Thank you so much,” you say, sitting at the kitchen island like you didn’t almost get your back blown out in this house 48 hours ago.
Just as she’s slicing a piece and setting it in front of you—
“Yah.”
You turn your head and nearly choke.
Seunghyun is leaning against the hallway wall in the same grey sweats from his last crime. Black hoodie. Wet hair from a recent shower. Barefoot.
Unholy.
“She’s not here for pizza, Mom” he smirks, eyes on you.
“Don’t be rude!” his mom scolds. “She likes my pizza. Sit and eat.”
“She likes other things more,” he mutters under his breath.
You nearly drop your slice.
He leans closer while his mom’s back is turned. “Upstairs. In five.”
You nod once, trying not to pass out from anticipation (and dehydration).
Upstairs – Seunghyun’s Room – 7:21PM
Door clicks shut.
You haven’t even turned around yet when he’s already behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder.
“You saw me two days ago.”
“Yeah, and I dreamed about you twice after that,” he says, lips trailing along your neck. “I woke up hard both times.”
You open your mouth—maybe to tease him, maybe to insult him—but it turns into a gasp as his hand slips under your hoodie, fingers stroking your bare skin.
“Still warm,” he whispers. “Still soft. Still mine?”
You nod. His lips crush yours instantly, devouring, demanding. The kiss is messy this time—urgent and deeper. Your back hits the wall and you feel his thigh between yours, pressing just right. You roll your hips down into it without thinking, chasing friction, chasing him.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re gonna make me lose it before we even get to the bed.”
You laugh, breathless. “So lose it.”
He groans and suddenly scoops you up like it’s nothing—one arm under your thighs, the other at your back. He drops you on the bed, crawling over you with his hoodie falling off his shoulders, revealing that long, lean torso you definitely remember tasting.
“You sure?” he asks, voice gentler now. “If we start this, I’m not stopping until you’re shaking again.”
You stare up at him, heart pounding. “I walked for 7 minutes to get here. again. What do you think?”
He grins.
“Good,” he says. “Lie back. Let me make you cry a little.”
Your clothes come off piece by piece, each one slower than the last. His lips trail every exposed inch of your skin like he’s memorizing it.
And when you’re bare beneath him, he kneels between your thighs, palms pushing your knees apart.
You squirm.
“Still nervous?” he asks, voice low.
“No,” you whisper. “Just—don’t tease.”
He smirks. “I won’t.”
And then his mouth is on you.
No warning.
Just heat and tongue and pressure—so good it knocks the breath from your lungs. He licks you slow at first, lazy circles that make your hips twitch, then faster, deeper—lips locking around your clit while two fingers slide inside you.
You grab the sheets. “S-Seunghyun—”
He hums against you, the vibration making your eyes roll back. His fingers curl inside you just right, hitting the spot that makes your toes curl.
“You close already?” he murmurs, eyes still locked on you. “Didn’t even take ten minutes.”
You whimper. “D-Don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning to.”
He sucks harder and you snap—back arching, body jerking as you squirt again, thighs shaking uncontrollably.
“Oh my god—Seunghyun—!”
He groans, licking you through it, not stopping until you’re pulling at his hair and gasping for air.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning.
“Still sweet,” he says, leaning in to kiss your lips. “You taste like you missed me.”
You’re still trembling when you flip him over.
“My turn.”
You straddle him, tugging off his sweats and boxers in one go. He’s hard, thick, and leaking already.
You wrap your fingers around him and his whole body jerks.
“You good?” you ask, cocking your head.
“Not for long,” he pants.
You smile and lower your mouth to his tip, licking him slowly—then all the way down until he hits the back of your throat.
“Fuck—” He slaps a hand over his mouth, the other gripping the bed. “Oh my god.”
You suck him slow at first, using your hand to stroke what you can’t reach, then faster, wetter, your tongue swirling just under the tip.
He’s whining now—whining, high and breathless.
“You’re—shit, you’re too good at that—”
You pull off just enough to whisper: “Thought I was sweet?”
“You’re evil,” he groans, hips bucking.
You lick him once more and crawl back up, lips slick and swollen.
You’re already dripping, his hands trembling just slightly. Not from fear—no, you’ve seen him hold you steady with the confidence of a boy who’s wanted this forever—but from restraint.
He lines himself up, tip brushing against your entrance, eyes flicking up to yours.
“You sure?” he asks one last time, breathless.
“Seunghyun,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please.”
He pushes in slowly—inch by inch—until he’s fully buried inside you.
You both freeze.
He’s breathing hard through his nose, jaw clenched. “Fuck.”
You’re stretched around him, throbbing, full in a way you’ve never been. The sting is real, but it’s nothing compared to the way your body clutches at him, needy and wet.
“You okay?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nod. “Just… don’t move yet.”
His thumb strokes your hip gently as you adjust, heart pounding like a drum.
“You feel like heaven,” he whispers. “Better than I ever imagined.”
Your walls flutter around him at the words. Your hand claws at his back. “You imagined this?”
“All the time.” He kisses your jaw. “Especially after you moaned my name in my shower.”
You laugh—then gasp when he thrusts just once, deep and slow.
“Still funny?”
You shake your head, lips parted.
He starts to move—deep strokes, slow but firm, like he’s trying to touch the bottom of your soul. Each time he sinks back in, you feel it in your chest. Like you’re being filled with something more than just his cock—something bigger, something known.
Your fingers twist in the sheets. “Seunghyun—”
“Talk to me,” he pants, pace steady. “Too much?”
“Not enough.”
That does it.
He grabs your thighs and pushes them further apart, tilting your hips up. His rhythm changes—deeper, faster, grinding into you like he’s trying to make you forget everything else.
You moan louder now, the sound echoing off his bedroom walls.
“That’s it,” he groans. “Let me hear you.”
“God—Seunghyun, I—I can’t—”
“You can.” He leans down, nose brushing yours. “You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking tight.”
You don’t even realize you’re crying until he kisses the corner of your eye.
“Hurts?”
“No,” you breathe. “It’s just—too good.”
He slows again, hips rolling deep and smooth. Your legs tremble from overstimulation, but you’re chasing it now—chasing him. He reaches between you, rubs your clit with gentle, messy circles.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Come on. Give it to me.”
You fall apart under him, body locking up, muscles tightening as your orgasm rips through you like a wave. Your nails dig into his back, your voice catching in your throat.
“Fuck—you’re squeezing me—” he groans, losing rhythm as he starts to unravel too.
“I want it,” you whisper. “Come inside me.”
That’s all it takes.
He shudders, curses, and buries himself to the hilt as he comes—groaning into your neck, hips twitching through the aftershocks.
The world is silent afterward, save for your tangled breathing.
He doesn’t move right away. Just lays there, still inside you, holding you like you’re the only real thing he’s ever known.
Then he whispers against your skin: “...I’m in so much trouble.”
You laugh weakly. “Why?”
“Because I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting you now.”
