Hey did you guys know I do commissions? (did you know its my full time job)
My first commission batch of the year is officially open! if you are at all interested!
Link to my portfolio and commission menu available here
Link to sign up for commissions is here
Thank you @zozo-01 for the tag! I’m so extremely late to make this post (oopsie) but ima do it nonetheless 🙂↕️
Fav Colour: Blue! I switch between navy blue and baby blue being my favs, and funnily enough I’m wearing both colours in my outfit right now 🩵
Currently Reading: The Summer Between Us by Noreen Nanja. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to read for leisure, and I always love me a good romance book 🫶
Last Song: All I Can Take by Justin Bieber (his new album has me in a chokehold rnnn)
Last Film: The last movie I remember watching is Superman in the theatre (but I swear I’ve watched another movie recently but I can’t remember it right now LOL)
Last Series: New Girl! I’ve watched it in the past but I’ve started it again since my husband has never watched it 🤭
Salty/Sweet/Savoury: Sweet all the wayyyyy 🍬
Tea or Coffee: Coffee, no question, 100%
Working On: Trying not to crash out over the 38373 curveballs life is throwing at me 🫠
content: seungmin x reader, drabble, pure fluff, established relationship (early stage)
based off of this request!
you hadn’t looked at him for five whole minutes. that was a record.
seungmin was trying to stay cool about it—arm draped behind you, hoodie slightly pulled up on his wrist, leg bouncing a little as the city rolled past the tinted windows—but you could feel his curiosity creeping in.
“you good?” he finally asked, voice dry but playful. “or is your phone suddenly more interesting than your boyfriend?”
you looked up from your phone just long enough to let the word hang there for a second. boyfriend. it sounded… nice. dangerously nice. you’d definitely be replaying it in your head later while brushing your teeth.
you snorted and went back to scrolling. which, frankly, made it worse for him. because now you were smiling at your phone and not even sharing what was so funny, and he was starting to spiral.
you were both in the backseat on your way home from your fifth date. fifth. things were still shiny and new and a little awkward around the edges. like how he always sat one inch closer than necessary but never actually touched you, or how you still overthought every joke you texted him. it was still that early stage where calling him cute felt more nerve wracking than the baseball game you’d just watched together.
he leaned in slightly. “what are you looking at?”
you didn’t answer right away, just tilted your phone screen toward him casually.
and then he saw it.
seungmin chuckled shyly, nose scrunching, eyes squinting like he wanted to disappear into the seat.
on your screen was a photo of him—tiny seungmin, maybe four, inside a plastic construction truck ride. baseball cap and the cutest smile.
he takes another look and immediately groans, throwing his head back against the headrest, face already flushed. “oh my god.”
you laugh. “you willingly sent this out to the internet.”
“yeah, but not for you to see,” he mumbles, dragging a hand down his face.
you blink. “why not me?”
he hesitates for a beat, then glances out the window like he’s considering opening it and throwing himself out. “i’m trying to be impressive, okay? i can’t exactly do that when you’re looking at toddler me with… puffy cheeks and a giant g on my head.”
you snort, completely unsympathetic. “impressive? you?”
he side-eyes you, lips twitching. “wow.”
you nudge his leg with yours, still giggling. “no, i mean—if you stayed like that, maybe you would’ve been impressive. you were so much cuter, what happened?”
and for a second, he doesn’t say anything.
just looks at you.
you glance over, and he’s leaning back against the seat, one arm stretched behind you, head tilted slightly like he’s studying you.
“what?” you ask, self-conscious now.
he doesn’t answer.
instead, he suddenly lunges forward—fingers curling into your side with zero warning.
“seungmin—!”
you squeal, practically folding in on yourself as you try to escape his grip.
he finally lets go, laughing under his breath as you squirm away and glare at him from the far corner of the seat.
“this,” you huff, breathless, hair slightly disheveled from the ambush, “this is what i mean. you’re so—so insufferable.”
he shrugs, smug. “and yet you keep flirting with me.”
“i threaten you over text on a daily basis.”
“exactly,” he nods. “flirting.”
you groan and sink lower into your seat. “i literally hate you.”
“that’s not true,” he says, stretching his legs out and looking entirely too pleased with himself. “you think i’m the best.”
“i think you peaked in 2004 and it’s been downhill ever since.”
he goes quiet.
like—suspiciously quiet.
you glance over and catch him staring out the window, lips pressed together, arms crossed.
“…seungmin.”
nothing.
you nudge his leg with your foot. “oh, come on. you can’t be serious.”
he lets out a long, pained sigh. the kind people make when they're narrating their own tragic biopic.
you snort. “don’t be so dramatic. i complimented your giant baby cheeks.”
he doesn’t move.
“and your dumb little raincoat.”
still no response.
“fine,” you sigh, scooting closer. “you didn’t peak in 2004.”
his brows lift slightly, but he doesn’t turn his head.
you lower your voice a little, softer now. “you’re great now too, okay?”
that earns the tiniest twitch of his mouth.
“and i like you. obviously. i wouldn’t go to a baseball game for just anyone.”
he finally turns, looking at you—really looking at you. his expression is quiet, but there’s warmth behind it. something that makes your chest do that dumb fluttery thing again.
“…you mean that?” he says, still pretending to pout a little.
you meet his gaze and nod, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “yeah. you’re still my boyfriend, insufferable and all.”
and that’s all it takes.
he leans in, eyes flicking down to your lips like instinct, and kisses you. his hand brushes your cheek, his thumb grazes your jaw, and your heart forgets how to beat normally.
you melt.
there’s no other word for it—your whole body just softens, like something in you gave up the fight the second his lips touched yours. when he smiles into it—barely there, just enough to feel—it sends a wave of warmth crawling from your chest to your fingertips.
he pulls back, just enough to speak, eyes still half-lidded, voice lower than usual. “i’m glad you’re mine.”
your breath catches, just for a second. then you laugh, quiet and helpless, forehead tipping against his.
you don’t say anything else.
instead, you unbuckle your seatbelt with a soft click, shifting over until you’re curled into the middle seat, legs tucked up, head resting deeper against his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
he adjusts, wordlessly pulling his arm around you, fingers curling loosely at your side. outside, the streetlights blur past, streaks of gold and red dancing across the glass. the car is quiet except for the hum of the road beneath you.
you close your eyes.
your phone slips from your hand into your lap, screen dimming slowly.
and just like that, you decide: maybe you could survive being insufferable together.
LOOK TO WINDWARD. submit one of the prompts + a character for a blurb.
♡ seeing their s/o interact with children they met in a small town in the absolute middle of nowhere. with astarion.... right NEOW !!
Astarion thinks he could have wanted children, once upon a time. Before, in that blurry period of time he can't quite recall, he thinks he probably expected to have at least one little thing that he could have called his own.
Now, though, he's certain he doesn't want any. How could he? After all he'd experienced in the last two hundred years, he finds it difficult to fathom the thought of wanting to bring another life into the world. Children were already a nuisance for him, as it were. Running around night markets and grabbing at his cloaks with their sticky fingers when he wasn't looking. He'd had more than one pair of shoes stomped on by tiny feet scrambling past him.
The two of you had built a cozy little life in the lower city, and he was perfectly content to keep it that way. The two of you. That's why it was such a shock to him when he felt the surge of warmth out in the village that night.
You were on a trip out to Waterdeep to visit Gale, which, ultimately, meant you would be revisiting your days of adventuring for the trip. Astarion hadn't minded. He'd been somewhat excited, in all honesty, even if he wouldn't admit that aloud. That was until you'd stumbled upon a small village a ways out from Rivington that had lured you in for the evening with their laughter. You had lured Astarion in against his will, he claims. Not that he would have gone anywhere you weren't, anyway.
"What's this one?" a young elf, not even at adolescence yet, asks as he shoves his finger into the gash above your brow bone. Astarion winces. That kid could take your eye out if you weren't careful. You don't seem to mind, gently grabbing the child's hand and pulling it down to your lap.
"A goblin nicked me with their scimitar," you say, voice low and dramatic as you continue to recount the tales from your heroic adventures. "Might've taken off more than a little skin if that one over there hadn't taken care of him for me."
Astarion blinks as you point at him, bouncing a baby in your lap and smiling. His eye twitches momentarily as his gaze flickers over all the little faces watching him now. Squinting briefly, he raises the hand not currently twirling his dagger.
"He was there with me through all of it," you whisper to the first child. Something catches in Astarion's chest.
"He's so pale," the child says, leaving Astarion with the urge to hiss until he hears the melody of your laugh ringing through the air.
"He is," you hum, looking up at him again. "But I wouldn't change a thing about him."
₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; Having a crush on your friend/roommate while trying to navigate college life is hard enough as it is, what happens after you find out the secret he has been hiding?
₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; college!au, female!reader, angst, smut, mentions of sexual harassment, alcohol and drug use, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime “kiss him, not me!”~
It was haunting you. The words your roommate and crush had written about you and your childhood best friend who now stood beside you in the thrift store as you both meticulously looked through the rack of clothes in front of you. “Oh this is so cute!” He gasped, pulling out a crocheted cropped tank top, holding it up against your torso with a smirk. “You would so rock this. I bet Hanji would like it too.” He gave you a wink before tossing it in your cart. Han Jisung. Fuck- you couldn’t escape him and the itch to tell someone about what you had read was killing you. You knew you could never tell Jeongin about it, it was just too uncomfortable and you knew he’d freak out and probably immediately confront the author about it. It just…wouldn’t end well. “If you say so- that is why I brought you here, to help me build a better wardrobe.” You sighed with a little eye roll playfully as he continued to pick things out for you, your cart almost overflowing by the end of the shopping trip. “Whatever you don’t end up keeping I’m sure Felix would take off your hands.” He shrugged while you checked out. You just hummed in agreement as you both carried the multiple bags out to his car. You hadn’t said much the entire hang out and he seemed to be catching on that something was wrong as he began driving you back to your apartment. “Okay, spill. You have been a total space cadet all afternoon.” Whipping your head to look at him from your spot in the passenger seat you felt your eyes widen. “Hey! I totally have not-“ Scoffing, Jeongin rolled his eyes. “You ate about half the paper on your ice cream cone before I called you out cause you weren’t paying attention. Just tell me what’s on your mind, no judgement.” You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing how judgmental he could be. “Promise! Just spill, ‘kay?” You sighed and settled back in your seat, feeling a bit small under his insistence. “I may have um…the other week I saw something on Jisung’s computer that I wasn’t supposed to and now I’m not sure what to do-“ Jeongin smirked a bit, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment. “Whatever, like…weird porn or something? Was it bad? Cause like- you could use that to your advantage ya know. If you know what he’s into you could somehow take that knowledge and get him to confess first since you’re too chicken to do it first.” You chuckle nervously before shaking your head. “Can we just- drop it? I don’t wanna think about it anymore…let’s go wash these clothes and you can help me come up with some good outfit ideas-“ Sensing how uncomfortable you were, he dropped it as you had asked and nodded with a smile. “Sounds like a plan! I’m gonna make you look so good no one is gonna recognize you!” You gasped, a hand coming up to lay across your chest. “Excuse you! Are you saying I look bad now?!” He laughed as he parked the car and began grabbing some of the bags you’d purchased. “No! Just- as I’ve stated countless times…you hide your figure too much and dress like a crazy old cat lady! You’re hot but you don’t dress to show it off like you should!” After reading what Jisung had written about the two of you, hearing Jeongin call you hot made you shiver a bit in disgust but you tried to play it off as you got out of the car. “I don’t dress like a crazy old cat lady- I dress teacher appropriate!” Jeongin shook his head again as he followed you inside the house. “Yeah well you aren’t a teacher yet so that can wait until we graduate.”
Two days later and you are laying sprawled out on Chris and Celine’s bed as she rummages through her closet. She had asked you to come over and keep her company while she did some cleaning and reorganizing and you needed to get out of your apartment for fear of running into Jisung. You had been lowkey avoiding him, not super intentional at first it was just that your schedules didn’t align and then as you started to be home at the same time more often you couldn’t shake the itch of your knowledge of his secret. “Can I…get your opinion something really weird?” You say suddenly, feeling the bed dip beside you almost instantly as she took a seat. “Of course! You know you can tell me anything.” You sighed, blinking up a the ceiling before looking at her. “You cannot tell anyone. Not even Chris!! Like- especially not him…or Innie.” Now she wore a look of concern, eyes flickering from your face to your stomach and then back again. “Oh my god are like- pregnant or something?” Your eyes widen and you sit up straight. “What the fuck no? Celine-“ you groan a bit, shaking your head. “The other day at the library I saw something on Jisung’s computer while he was in the bathroom…and it’s- I don’t know what to feel or how to think?” She nods a bit, gesturing for you to continue. “It was smut. Like- really well written and detailed smut…but it was- oh god it’s hard to even say it!” You whine, flopping back on the bed with your hands covering your face. “Well come on spit it out! You’ve got me on the edge of my seat. Was it of you and him? Him and another girl? Him and an animated girl?!” You let out another groan in frustration before answering. “It was of me and….me and Jeongin-“ She gasps loudly, hands coming to cover her mouth in shock. “Oh no- that’s…that is kinda weird-“
The room is silent for a moment before she speaks up again. “How did it make you feel? Like- what went through your mind when you saw it.” You sigh, dragging your hands down your face before staring back up at the ceiling. “I don’t know….confused? Disgusted? Mildly hurt-“ Celine nods and lays down beside you on the bed. “Okay let’s unpack this bit by bit…let’s start with disgusted, yeah? What about it was disgusting to you.” Frowning, you shrug a bit. “Just- like ew why Innie of all people he’s like my brother?” Celine nods in agreement before continuing. “Understandable. Now, confused?” You nod as well, turning on your side to face her. “Like…what does it mean- why would he write that about me and Innie? Like…I don’t understand what would make him do that..” your friend sighs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay, now what about hurt?” Your frown deepens and you shrug again, arms coming to hold yourself for comfort. “Does this mean he doesn’t like me? If he is writing me having sex with other men is that a sign that I have no chance with him-“
She frowns as well, pulling you in for a cuddle as she pets your hair gently. “I don’t know, Winnie…I think maybe he is confused? I mean- you and Jeongin are so close maybe he thinks there is something going on with you two and this is his strange way of coping with that? You know he can be an odd one sometimes-“ you nod and your head rubs against her neck and chin in the process causing you both to giggle. “That or maybe he’s just a cuck? Like- he gets off to the idea of you with other men or something. I wouldn’t say this means he doesn’t like you back.” You grimace at the thought. You aren’t one to kink shame but that just doesn’t seem like something you would be into let alone with your childhood best friend. “I think you should find a way to talk to him about it, yeah? I don’t know how but just sit on it for a bit and figure out a way to bring it up that isn’t confrontational so you don’t scare him off.” You sigh, relaxing in her arms. “Okay…thanks, Celine- I needed your motherly advice.” She laughs, swatting playfully at your head. “Hey I’m not that much older than you!” You both fall into a fit of laughter before resuming your designated tasks of you lounging in whatever room she is working in as you chat with her as she does her chores.
You start to relax a little bit after your talk with Celine, slowly falling back into your normal routine as you now stand in the kitchen cooking dinner while Jisung pulls up the show you had been in the middle of watching together before you began distancing yourself. “I’m so glad we finally have some us time. It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” He pouts, leaving his place on the couch to wrap his arms around you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder. Us? What does that even mean- your mind is back to reeling over the physical affection and the way he said that simple word…Us. “Yeah, me too Hanji~ you’ve been so busy I thought you were gonna shrivel up and die due to lack of kdrama syndrome or something.” You giggle, swatting his hand when you catch him reaching to steal a piece of meat you are grilling. “Patience, it’s almost done.” Jisung whines but listens, shuffling back over to flop on the couch.
You join him a few minutes later, two ready made plates in your hand. You already knew what he liked and didn’t like so there was no need to call him over to make his own plate. You told yourself this was just another sign that you two would be perfect together, that there was so much potential while the other part of your brain screamed that there was no way he would ever reciprocate the feelings.
Dinner and Drama, as you both nicknamed it, went as usual with the both of you ending up cuddled on the couch with empty plates sitting on the coffee table. Jisung gave a yawn as the episode ended before detangling himself from your body. “Alright- bed time for me…I’ve got early classes tomorrow then work the rest of the day.” He gave a little groan as he made his way to the kitchen with both of your dishes. “Yeah same here- do you want help with those?” He shakes his head, waving you off with his free hand as he gets to work washing them off in the sink. “I got it! Go ahead and get some sleep, yeah? Maybe we can meet for lunch tomorrow before work or something.” You nod, giving him a small wave before heading towards your room. “Night Hanji!” “Goodnight, Winnie!” He calls back as you close your door behind you.
Sleep doesn’t come easily and instead you lay wide awake wondering if both what Celine and Jeongin said could be true…and maybe Jisung was into you and maybe you could use his writing and what he’s into as a way to get closer to him. You bolt upright in bed and quickly pull out your laptop. The name on the top of that fictional story you had read was burned into your memory, never to be forgotten and with a quick google search you find it. You can’t believe he actually published it onto some fanfiction site. It had been a complete shot in the dark to try looking for it that way but here it is. You click on the profile that had uploaded it and you almost let out a yelp in surprise. With your hand covering your mouth you scroll, eyes wide as you see not only the story about you and Jeongin but even more stories all with tags that only seemed to get raunchier the further down you went. Is this what he does in his free time? You always thought he just worked on music with Chan and Changbin but I guess there was another side to this poet than just lyrics. As you look over the account you see a post from only a few days ago, your eyes flickering over the tags before you open it up curiously.
You read for a while, eyes scanning over the words as your heart began to race. This story was also about you but instead of Jeongin it was….Hyunjin? Intrigued a bit, mind racing through the fact that Jisung has now written explicit stories of you with not just one but two of your close friends. It started off mild at first but the more you read the more your skin begins to flush.
He slowly pressed hot open mouthed kisses on her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she really wanted him. 'Jinnie, please,' she whines, bucking her hips without meaning to.
'Don't tease.'
Even with the cool autumn breeze entering the apartment from your slightly ajar bedroom window, you felt your body heating up as you were unable to tear yourself away from the screen in front of you.
'Hmm patience is a virtue, Winnie,' he grins against her skin, nipping at it with his teeth while his hands tighten around her thighs, keeping them still. 'The more you beg, the slower I'll go'
Your mouth fell open slightly, one hand on the mouse pad slowly scrolling down as you read while the other gripped at the material of your sweatpants you had worn to bed that weren’t really yours at all but ones you had stolen from your roommate one day when you had run out of clean pajama bottoms that you hadn’t brought yourself to return yet.
She moans loudly when his tongue finally touches her clit, it's feather light, but pleasure zaps through her spine anyways. He licks her more thoroughly then, pulling her closer to his mouth as he feasts.
At that, you slam your laptop shut and scoot away from it until your back hits the headboard of your bedframe. Your face is flushed and your heart is racing so fast you feel like you can’t catch your breath. You feel a bit scandalized, and to further that scandalizing feeling, a bit turned on. What the actual hell-
You take a few deep breathes, rubbing your sweaty palms over your clothed thighs before opening the laptop back up. You don’t think you can stomach reading any more of his writing tonight, but you feel like there is more going on with this little secret of his so before you can think about it too much, you switch on the vpn you use to stream anime off of shady sites and create yourself a very non-descriptive account before clicking the little follow button on Jisung’s secret blog. Once it’s done you put your laptop away and lay back down to try and find sleep that will never come as you know the next morning you will have to face both Jisung and Hyunjin and pretend that what just happened never happened.
If he wants to keep secrets than you can to. Game on.
authors note; everyone say thank you to my wifey @chancloud8 for writing the smut bits for this chapter because I wasn’t in the right headspace and it was literally the only thing holding me back from finishing this chapter today~ i know it’s a little on the shorter side and I made you all wait so long for an update on this story but I hope you all enjoyed it! Pls let me know what you thought and where you think the story is gonna go from here~~
taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @chancloud8 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @extremechaoswarning @jisunglyricist @imeverycliche @estella-novella @tirena1 @silly250 @h0rnyp0t @haradasaya @jaquisos @bookswillfindyouaway @ramadiiiisme @ssunglver @soobingf-blog @painterhyunjin @headfirstfortoro
♡ ― nerdy!jeongin x f!reader friends to lovers, protected sex, oral sex (both), semi-public sex, dirty talking, BAD dirty talking, actually this is losers to lovers. minors DNI!
♡ synopsis ― It started with a memory about ant bites. Now feelings are out, things are messy, and neither of them knows what they’re doing. But maybe they’re finally getting it right.
[19k words ]♡― So… welcome to Ant Pile! A story that definitely doesn’t involve questionable choices, emotional damage, or a single moment where you’ll scream “just talk to each other!” Totally chill. Very normal. Nothing to overthink here. Thanks
You knew you were doomed to suffer when, the next day, Jeongin told you that he had planned a day out for the two of you. It had been a long time since that sort of thing had happened, so you were excited. However, when you saw him walking across campus with that stupid loser's smirk hanging from his lips, your dumb, reckless heart pounded harder.
“Ready for our day out?” he asked, offering his arm with a grin that made your stomach clench. You bumped your shoulder against him and rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth crawling up your spine.
“You’ve been suspiciously excited all day.”
“Because it's going to be worth it. Trust me.”
The two of you drove toward a wooded area near campus. It was familiar, peaceful, and mostly hidden. If you followed the trail long enough, it would lead to a small waterfall, tucked deep into the trees. Jeongin parked where the road ended, and as soon as you stepped out of the car, the sound of rushing water and birdsong filled the air, tugging a small breath of relief from your lungs.
“This place is perfect.” You inhaled, letting the stillness press against your skin like a blanket.
“I told you it would be worth it.” He looked back at you with that same smug smile as he carried the bags, confident and completely unaware of the way your pulse stuttered in response.
You followed him until you reached the bridge. It stretched across the woods, linking the trees on either side. Small piers branched off along the way, perfect for picnics. Jeongin picked a quiet spot and spread out the towel, setting everything up like he had done it a hundred times before.
And he had. These were the kinds of things you always did together. That was the problem.
You sat down, letting your eyes linger on him as he unpacked glasses and poured drinks with a casual grace that made your chest tighten.
“So... did you call Minji?”
It had been days since the last time you had sex. Days since he said it would be the last. He was supposed to call Minji, to go on that date he wanted so badly. But he hadn’t brought it up again. And neither had you. Until now.
“Umm... why?” He looked up, startled.
“Because you said you would.”
Jeongin stared at you for a long second, hair falling into his eyes. You wanted to brush it back and punch him at the same time.
“I will. I just... I don’t know. I’ll definitely call her today.” He nodded slowly, as if convincing himself more than you.
You didn’t know why you pushed. Maybe if he finally went out with her, maybe if he moved on like he was supposed to, that awful twisting in your stomach would finally go away. That dull ache behind your ribs would stop pretending it was something more.
He prepared sandwiches and your favorite fruit, because of course he did. Because Jeongin always noticed. Always remembered. The day was beautiful. Quiet. Just the two of you. No one else, no interruptions, not even sex to cloud the air. Just two good friends spending time together.
That’s what it should have been. That’s what you told yourself.
But every time his eyes lingered on you, every time he smiled like he already knew something you didn’t, it became harder to believe it.
The following night, you were supposed to be studying. You should have been focused, but your article for the social sciences subject completely slipped from your mind the moment Jeongin walked into your dorm. He looked like a man starved, his eyes dark with urgency.
“I need you.” He whispered against your mouth, eyes closed.
There was no escape. The more he wanted you, the more you gave in. And it wasn't as if you didn't want him too. You always did. You completely surrendered.
"What happened?" you asked, holding him in your arms, still trapped between his body and the mattress.
"Is it okay if I don't talk about it?"
You nodded and let him settle over you, his body impossibly close, his mouth brushing your neck with a soft kiss. He moved against you, slow and heavy, making it clear exactly what he meant by needing you.
When he finally kissed you, it felt like the first breath after holding it for too long. His touch reached your face, gentle and warm, but that was all it took for your composure to start crumbling. Your throat tightened. Your vision turned glassy. He didn’t realize you were crying until the tears were already trailing down your cheeks.
"Hey. What's wrong? Are you... crying?"
You tried to pull him back, but he was already propped up on his elbows, sitting properly and staring at you with frowning eyebrows and that look of concern.
"Nothing. It’s nothing."
"It’s not nothing. You’re crying."
Hearing him say it made the sob rise faster. You broke down, covering your face with both hands as the sobs took over. Jeongin sat up and reached for you, wrapping his arms around you without hesitation. You clung to him like a koala, pressing your body into his as your tears soaked through the front of his sweater. He didn’t seem to care. All he cared about was holding you together.
“Please. Tell me what happened.”
You shook your head, wiping your face even though more tears kept coming. Jeongin only held you tighter, his hand moving through your hair in slow, comforting strokes.
You couldn’t be honest with him. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because telling him the truth would mean the end of everything. It would ruin the years of friendship you had built. You couldn’t admit that you had fallen for him. That somewhere along the way, you crossed a line you could never return from.
So you cried. You cried until there was nothing left. And when you finally pulled away, your face was swollen and your eyes stung. Jeongin gave you a soft smile, the kind that made your heart tremble, and tucked your hair behind your ears.
"Who hurt you?"
The lump in your throat came back. You pouted, trying to hold yourself together, but it was useless. The tears threatened to come again.
"Is this about the sex?" His voice was cautious, his eyes searching yours.
You shook your head with conviction, putting on the best lie you could manage.
"I’m just... overwhelmed. That’s all."
"Oh, baby." He wrapped you up in his arms again, this time even tighter, his embrace like a shelter. "Do you want me to stay here and hold you until you feel better?"
"Would you?"
"You never have to ask me that."
Jeongin guided you gently, helping you shift until both of you were lying down side by side. Your heads rested on the same pillow, faces close, eyes locked in a quiet, aching gaze. He opened his arm for you, and without hesitation, you tucked yourself against his chest, letting your cheek rest over the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
His hand found its way into your hair, fingers moving slowly, tenderly, like he was trying to calm every storm inside you. More tears slipped down your face, silent and warm, soaking into the fabric of his sweatshirt.
He lowered his chin and pressed it softly to the top of your head, his lips brushing you with gentle kisses that carried more comfort than words ever could. You clenched your fist around his sweater, holding on to him as if letting go would mean losing everything that kept you from falling apart. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just held you, like you were the most fragile thing in the world, and all he wanted was to keep you safe.
And as if it were possible, you heard the final crack inside your heart. Shattering it in every part.
You were sitting alone under an old, forgotten oak tree. People usually avoided it because of the amount of leaves around it, but you never minded. It was one of your favorite spots on the whole campus.
With your headphones in and your eyes half-closed, you let the wind brush against your face. Everything had gotten too complicated. You had fallen asleep in Jeongin’s arms after crying until you had nothing left inside. He never mentioned it afterward, and you were quietly thankful. You didn’t want to risk breaking something that had always felt so solid between you.
The hardest part about realizing you had real feelings for him was not knowing when it happened. Had the feeling always been there, waiting? Hidden somewhere deep inside, silent until the moment he held you close enough to ignite it? You couldn’t make sense of it.
All you knew was that your heart felt heavy and unsteady. It kept pulling and tightening, aching in ways you didn’t know how to stop. How had you let yourself fall into the trap of loving your best friend? Every time your thoughts wandered toward all the ways this could fall apart, your eyes filled with tears again. It was as if your chest couldn’t hold any more weight.
“Hey, found ya.” Felix touched your shoulder, making you open your eyes in fright. He looked down at you with concern. You didn’t even have time to hide the tears that were already clinging to your lashes. He noticed them right away. “Are you alright?”
The worst thing about someone asking if you're okay is how that question has the power to break whatever wall you were trying to hold up. That was all it took. The moment he asked, the tears came faster.
You didn’t even try to stop them anymore. It was starting to feel like crying was the only thing you knew how to do.
"Hey, hey. What happened?" Felix dropped to the ground beside you without hesitation, wrapping his arm around you in a firm but gentle embrace. You leaned into him without thinking.
“I'm screwed, Felix.”
His eyes searched your face, already full of worry. "Why are you saying that?"
"Because..." Your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. This was it. You were about to say it out loud for the first time. You were about to let it all spill out. "Me and Jeongin... we had sex."
Felix’s face shifted so quickly into shock that under any other circumstances, you might have laughed and taken a picture to tease him later. But not now. Now it just made the tears come faster. You covered your face with trembling hands, hoping to hide how completely broken you felt.
"Hey, it’s okay," he said softly. "Do you want to tell me how it happened or..."
"It was supposed to be a one-time thing, Lix. Just once. But I couldn’t stop, and we kept going. And now..."
"You have feelings for him?"
You nodded, eyes swollen, wiping the tears away with your sleeve even though they kept falling.
“Does he know?”
You shook your head. "He can’t. If he knew, it would ruin everything. Our friendship wouldn’t survive it."
Felix pressed his lips together, a thoughtful silence falling over him. "You don’t really know that. But I get it. I do. And honestly, I’m kinda shocked. Not about you. But about him."
“What do you mean?” You lifted your head, confused by the sudden tension in his voice.
Felix hesitated, looking torn. He glanced away, biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying to hold something back.
“Felix? What is it?”
"You know he went out with Choi Minji, right?"
"They were going to, but it didn't happen."
He shut his eyes tightly, and everything inside you went still.
"No. It happened. Yesterday."
Yesterday?
The word echoed in your mind, hollow and cruel.
Oh.
"I... No..."
The words slipped out, but your mind could barely process anything. It had only been two days since you had cried yourself to sleep in his arms. Just one day since you ended up in his bed again. And now this. Jeongin hadn’t said a word. Not about that night. Not about Minji. He was just... acting normal. Like nothing had changed. Like nothing had happened.
Before your thoughts could even fully form, your body moved on its own. You stood up so fast Felix didn’t even have time to react. He called your name, but the blood rushing in your ears was too loud, too deafening.
You just had to see him. You needed to know. And you were begging inside that he would be there.
You didn’t even knock gently. Your fist pounded the door in a fast rhythm, your heart syncing with every beat. It didn’t take long for Seungmin to open it, eyes widening the second he saw your face.
He didn’t need to ask. The tension around you spoke for itself. Your chest was rising and falling too fast, your face burning with something between anger and heartbreak. He stepped aside in silence, his hand pointing down the hallway without a word. You walked past him with heavy, determined steps, your nails digging into your palms.
Jeongin was sitting at his desk, headphones on, eyes fixed on the screen. Seungmin leaned in just slightly, peeking after you, but you slammed the door shut before he could see what would happen next.
“Hey, you’re here.” Jeongin pulled off his headset slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion when he finally looked at you.
He had no idea what was coming.
You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. He stood, clearly confused, not even trying to resist as you pushed him backwards onto the bed. Without hesitation, you took off your shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Jeongin's eyes followed your every move, puzzled and still trying to catch up as you climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him.
“What are you... doing?” He stammered as you sat on his lap.
"Aren’t you going to kiss me?" you whispered, even though your throat was closing up. Your skin burned. Your heart felt like it was breaking in slow motion, each beat cracking it further.
Jeongin watched you with a certain gleam in his eyes. He was astonished. He had never seen you act like this.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked with a hesitant smile, his hands finding their way to your waist.
That was the moment everything snapped.
"What?" you said, voice low and bitter. "Tired of fucking me now that you’re with Minji?”.
His smile vanished instantly. He froze, and you saw it—the truth in his silence.
"I can explain," he said quickly.
You climbed off of him and began searching for your shirt on the floor, not trusting yourself to look at him. Your fingers trembled as you grabbed the fabric, anger and humiliation tangling in your chest like vines.
"You were going to have sex with me just now," you said, eyes burning. "You weren’t even going to tell me about her."
"Yes, I was!" he shouted, sitting up in the bed with wide eyes. "I was going to tell you! But it’s not what you think—"
"Then what is it, Jeongin?" you cut him off. "Am I some kind of joke to you? Some idiot you come to when you’re bored or lonely? Someone you can just use when you feel like it?"
"No!" he said, desperate. "Of course not. You’re my best friend!"
You laughed. It came out sharp and cold.
"Yeah. Of course I am."
"Don’t say it like that," he said quietly.
But it was too late. The words had already torn through the room, and the silence that followed was heavier than anything either of you could bear.
“You really are an idiot.” Your voice cracked as you shouted, heat rising in your chest. “Oh, and one more thing. Who do you think you are to decide who I can or can’t go out with? Choi San wanted me and you acted like you had the right to forbid it, as if I belonged to you!”
Jeongin stood up, this time gasping with anger.
“I’d do it again,” he snapped. “I wouldn’t let you go out with that asshole when you deserve something so much better.”
You blinked in disbelief. Your laugh came out hollow, sharp around the edges.
“Do you even hear yourself?” you asked, eyes wide, voice trembling with fury. “Are you actually listening to the words coming out of your mouth?”
You had never fought like this before. Not with him. Not with someone you trusted so much.
“You don’t understand,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t want to understand,” you said, voice lower now, bitter. “Because if I do, I’ll have to admit that the person I care about is someone who kept using me while going out with Choi fucking Minji.”
“I didn’t use you,” he said quickly, his voice breaking. “I would never do that.”
“Then what was it?” Your vision blurred, tears threatening again. “Because it sure as hell felt like it.”
Jeongin saw it. The shine in your eyes. The way you wrapped your arms around yourself like it was the only thing holding you together. His instinct was to reach for you, to pull you close, to fix it.
He took a step forward. You stepped back.
“Don’t touch me.” Your voice cracked as the first tear fell. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
It hit him harder than any slap could have. The words sank deep, ripping through something fragile inside him. You could have screamed, cursed, said anything else. But that? That broke him.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Please... just let me explain.”
“No.” You sniffled, brushing the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. “I'm leaving.”
“Please.” Jeongin’s voice cracked as he reached for you. “ Please , don’t do this.”
Your hand was already on the door handle when you turned to look at him. His eyes were glassy, those stupidly beautiful eyes that once made you feel safe. Now they were just another part of the pain.
But he was the one who hurt you. He made the choice. He let it happen.
You opened the door without another word.
Even when you heard his footsteps behind you, even when he followed you into the living room, you didn’t stop. Seungmin looked between the two of you like he had just witnessed a bomb go off in the middle of their home.
Still, you didn’t turn back.
Everything around you moved in slow motion. The world felt heavy, but your feet kept moving. You didn’t stop until you reached your dorm, closed the door behind you, and finally let yourself fall apart in the silence. You cried the way you needed to — alone.
You hadn’t spoken to him in a week. Which, considering how attached to the hip you had always been, felt like a lifetime. The silence was suffocating. It gnawed at you every time you glanced at your phone or walked through campus and didn’t see his face.
You had never felt this hurt. Everything was a blur of emotions you couldn’t fully understand. Processing what happened was like trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces. A part of you kept wondering if maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you had taken things too personally. But then the same thought always came back.
He could have told you about Minji. Still, it wasn’t like he owed you anything. It wasn’t like he felt the same way you did. He didn’t love you. Not the way you loved him.
You groaned in frustration and dropped your forehead against your laptop. Concentrating on anything had been nearly impossible. Jeongin was usually the most persistent person you knew. The first few days after the fight, he blew your phone with messages, barely letting you breathe. You had to shut your phone off just to escape from it.
But now everything was quiet. You stared at the screen for a long time before opening your chat with him again. The last messages hit you like a punch.
Please let me see you.
We need to talk.
You can’t ignore your best friend forever.
We’re still best friends, right?
Please… :(
Your chest tightened. Guilt crept up your spine like a slow-burning flame. You could imagine his face while he sent those messages. That pout he always gave when he was begging for something. The way his voice cracked when he was on the verge of breaking.
You hated ignoring him. But you also didn’t know how to face him.
"Can we talk?"
The voice made you flinch. You looked up slowly, already annoyed, but the last person you expected to see was standing there.
Choi Minji.
You blinked. She had never spoken to you. Barely even glanced your way. You only knew her because of Jeongin and, well, because she was basically campus royalty. Always surrounded by people, always looking perfect, like she’d walked straight off a drama set. She didn’t wait for an invitation. Just sat across from you like this was her table and you were the guest.
“Okay, I’ll be real with you,” she said, cutting straight to it. “I’m a girl’s girl or whatever, but you’re seriously starting to piss me off.”
You blinked again, thrown. “Sorry, what?”
“You’re in my way.” She leaned forward like she was trying to keep it casual, but there was fire in her eyes. “With Jeongin.”
You just stared, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. “I’m gonna need a little more context here.”
Minji sighed like she’d just run a marathon she hadn’t signed up for and rested her elbows on the marble table. Still composed, still flawless, but her voice had a bite now.
“You know I’m into him, right? Like, seriously. So I finally shot my shot and asked him out. He said yes, obviously. Why wouldn’t he? And to be fair, it went well. He was sweet. Funny. Basically everything I thought he’d be. I figured we’d hang out again. Then guess what happened?”
You opened your mouth, ready to throw out a half-hearted guess, but she didn’t wait.
“He dumped me. Flat out. And every time I tried to talk to him again, asked to meet, even casually, he shut it down. Every single time. And I don’t chase guys.”
You just sat there, trying to wrap your head around it. Jeongin had rejected her ? Multiple times?
Minji leaned back a little, her tone harder now.
“Eventually, he agreed to meet again, but it was just so he could say we couldn’t happen. That it wouldn’t work. So I asked him if he was seeing someone else. And you know what he said?”
You swallowed, already tense.
“He said yes.”
That one hit you straight in the chest.
“I started connecting the dots. And every single one of them led to you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You.” Her lips pulled into a dry, fake little smile. “You and Jeongin are together, right?”
Your stomach turned, but your voice stayed steady.
“I hate to break it to you, but no. We’re just friends.”
Minji blinked, clearly not buying it. “Friends? That’s all?”
You froze for a second. Was it?
She leaned in just a bit, still watching your face. “I’m not about to waste time chasing a guy who’s into someone else. So I need you to be straight with me.”
You took a breath, trying to clear your head even though everything inside you felt like a mess.
“Minji,” you said, your voice low, “Jeongin and I are friends. That’s it.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Then explain why he won’t give me the time of day. Do you have any idea how many guys would kill to be in his place? This literally never happens to me.”
You believed her. Of course it didn’t.
“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I really don’t.”
But one thing was clear. You couldn’t keep sitting in the dark like this. You needed to talk to him. And you needed answers straight from him, not anyone else.
You couldn’t get Minji’s words out of your head, even hours later. The way she pointed at you like it was your fault things didn’t work out with Jeongin kept looping in your brain.
The only thing you actually knew was that he turned her down. Told her he was seeing someone else. That alone made zero sense. He’d always looked at her like she hung the stars. So why back out when he finally had the chance?
A thought tried to creep in—quiet and dangerous—but you shut it down before it could even finish forming.
It was already late when your phone lit up with a flood of texts.
seungmin: I can’t deal with his mood anymore
seungmin: I swear I’m gonna lose it if he doesn’t stop sulking
seungmin: do something
seungmin: please?
Next thing you knew, you were standing outside their dorm.
Seungmin opened the door, visibly relieved. He looked like someone who had just been handed a lifeline.
“Thank you,” he muttered. “I know you’ve got your own shit going on, but seriously... I’m tapped out.”
You gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”
You padded quietly down the hallway and cracked open the bedroom door. It was pitch black, except for a dim light glowing from under the blankets. Jeongin was fully cocooned in bed.
“Fuck off, Seungmin. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
You didn’t say a word. Just walked in and sat at the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped, and he immediately pulled the blanket tighter.
“I said fuck off—” He stopped midsentence when he saw you.
His whole body stilled. He blinked like he thought he was hallucinating.
You tried to keep your expression blank, but the moment your eyes locked with his, that familiar pressure filled your chest. You had to swallow hard to keep from crying. He sat up slowly and flicked on the lights, running a hand through his messy hair.
“You came,” he said, sounding halfway between surprised and guilty. “Sorry for snapping earlier. Seungmin’s been on my ass all day and—”
“It’s fine,” you said quietly. “He’s just worried.”
He looked at you for a second, then asked, softer, “And you’re not?”
You glanced away. “What kind of question is that?”
“Do you even worry about me anymore?”
“Jeongin.” Your voice dropped. “Minji talked to me today.”
Something shifted in his face. He tried to keep it neutral, but the tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Did she?” he asked. “What’d she say?”
“She was disappointed in me,” you muttered.
He tilted his head, squinting like he was trying to figure out if you were being serious or messing with him. Your throat tightened. Your eyes were still glossy. You loved him. God, you loved him. And you still didn’t have a single damn answer.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low now.
You looked at him directly. “Why’d you tell her you were seeing someone?”
He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Because I was.”
You let out a dry laugh. One of those bitter, ugly ones. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
"Now she thinks I ruined whatever was going on between you two."
Jeongin shrugged again, then casually tossed his phone to the other side of the bed like he couldn’t care less.
"I need to understand what’s happening here, dimples."
Instead of giving you a straight answer, he moved in closer. Close enough that you could see everything. His stupid perfect skin, his stupid dimples. All of it.
"Remember when we were teenagers and I stepped on that ant pile and ended up in the hospital?"
You frowned. "Obviously. You were always that kid. Clumsy as hell, constantly getting hurt."
He tilted his head. "You're looking at me the same way you did back then. The day of the fucking ant pile."
You let out a soft laugh through your nose, confused but already feeling something heavy pressing against your chest. That day had been awful. He’d had a bad allergic reaction, and for a second you actually thought he was going to die. You cried like it was the end of the world. Sat by his hospital bed and refused to leave until the meds kicked in and he was okay again.
"Why are you bringing that up now?"
He huffed a quiet laugh, almost like he was laughing at himself. "Because I think that’s when I realized I liked you."
You blinked.
"I honestly thought you’d eventually figure it out. Like, do the math. It’s not exactly subtle."
You let out a nervous laugh but stopped midway. Your heart was hammering now. "Wait. What are you even saying right now? You’re not making any sense."
"I know." He looked at you, suddenly serious. "That’s what I’ve been trying to explain. When I told Minji I was seeing someone... I wasn’t lying." You stared at him. "I meant you."
"But you said you wanted to go out with Minji and I..."
Jeongin let out a slow breath, like he needed to brace himself before answering. "I... made that up."
His voice was quiet, unsure. "When Choi San asked about you, I panicked. I already knew I... liked you. Like, I really liked you. But the idea of watching you with someone else—"
He stopped himself, then ran a hand through his hair. "It was stupid. Selfish. I know."
You didn’t even know where to begin, so you just stayed quiet and let him keep going.
"So I said I was into Minji. Just to get people off my back. But then she actually liked me. And I... I didn’t want to hurt her either, so I tried to play along. I thought it would fade. It didn’t. It just got messier.And that day I was feeling like shit? It was because she got mad. Really mad. And I realized I couldn’t keep lying. Not to her. Not to myself."
"So what... You’re telling me you never liked Minji?"
He didn’t even hesitate. "Never."
"And you wanted to sleep with me..."
He winced. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I mean... I know that sounds bad, but it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just about sex. I know it was a dumb idea and I probably should’ve handled it way differently, but when you said yes... for a second, I thought you might feel the same."
Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. You honestly didn’t know what to say. He looked at you, eyes searching yours like he was afraid of what he’d find.
"And if you don’t, that’s okay. I just want you to know I never used you. I swear I didn’t. Every word I said... I meant it."
That I love you he said before. So he really meant it.
“Jeongin…” You let out a weak laugh, trying to play it off, but your heart was pounding so fast it made your head spin. “Don’t say stuff like that. Not to me. Not if you’re just messing around.”
He stepped closer without flinching. Brought both hands up to your face, gently cradling your cheeks. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip. Your breath hitched. Your chest was rising and falling too fast, and you knew he could hear it. Feel it.
“I’m not messing around,” he said, steady. “I love you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Something flickered behind your ribs. A smile started to form before you could stop it. You let out a shaky breath, like something inside you was finally letting go.
He loved you. He wanted you. Just like you wanted him.
You didn’t even think, just leaned in and closed the distance. His lips met yours, and he let out a surprised grunt. His hands dropped from your face for a second like he hadn’t expected you to kiss him back.
But the second he realized you meant it, everything changed. He kissed you harder, leaning into you like he couldn’t help it. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger you’d never felt before. His tongue pressed into the kiss, deepening it, turning it into something hotter, messier.
You let out a soft moan when he pushed forward and practically laid on top of you, the heat of his body pressing into every inch of yours.
“Promise me you won’t go out with Choi San, please.” His voice came out rough, almost desperate. You blinked, caught off guard, then gently pushed him back with one hand, just enough to look at him.
A laugh escaped your lips. “We’re literally kissing, and that’s what you’re worried about? Me and Choi San?”
“I need to know if you want me.”
“Yang Jeongin.” You whispered his name like a secret. Then kissed him again, slow and sure. “There’s nothing I want more than you.”
He gasped softly, his breath catching. His hand ran through his hair, pushing back the strands, revealing the messy blonde underneath.
“So what does that make us, then?”
You tilted your head, pretending to think about it. “Friends.”
“Just friends?” He let out a short laugh and kissed you again, firmer this time. “Friends don’t kiss like that,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your waist. “Friends don’t touch like this.”
Your voice dropped, teasing and breathless. “Do you want more than that?” Your hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, fingertips brushing warm skin.
just a heads up to my fellow writers out there that AO3 is currently fighting off bots commenting on people’s works to tell them that AO3 will delete their fics “due to the works being deprecated”, and the deletion will affect their accounts unless the authors delete the fics themselves first. IT IS A SCAM. AO3 will NOT delete your works. please do NOT fall for these bots!
I’ve been told the reason why these bots are doing this is due to copyright infringement issue where they’re trying to steal your works (possibly to train AI but this is just a guess) ‼️‼️‼️and once you deleted your fics, it will be either very difficult or impossible for you to claim ownership of your own fics when they were already deleted.‼️‼️‼️
a reminder that AO3 will never contact you through your comments section (in case they claim to be one of the moderators). AO3 will only contact you through your email address which you use to register your account, and it will be from AO3’s official handle. not some sketchy ass @
so if you get a comment telling you you should “delete your works to protect your account because AO3 is doing blah blah blah” report that comment. don’t delete your works.
PLEASE DO NOT FALL FOR THESE SCAM.
AO3 IS NOT DELETING WORKS.
DO NOT DELETE YOUR WORKS JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE CLAIMS THEY KNOW SOMETHING.
series summary: you and chan get matched up on a forum for people who suffer with insomnia and spent most of your sleepless nights texting each other. neither of you expected to fall in love..
pairing: bang chan x reader
tags: smau
a/n: some more groupchat fun/chaos + y/n & ava <3
a/n: whoooo i missed writing texts and due to this horrible stomach bug i can barely sit up straight, so this was the only way for me to 'write' lol. It feels a bit chaotic and I'm not 100% sure I like it, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways my darlings <3
Next chapter will be a written one again with more fluff hehe
꣑ৎpairing: childhoodfriend! seungmin (and soon to be idol) x fem!reader
(you and seungmin are 18-19)
｡°‧⭑.ᐟsynopisis
You and Seungmin have always been inseparable. Best friends since childhood, you've shared everything—laughter, heartaches, and the quiet comfort of knowing you had each other through it all. But when Seungmin is accepted into his dream job, you’re faced with the painful reality that your world is about to change.
For years, you’ve harbored feelings for him that go beyond friendship. You’ve always been able to find the sweetness in the sour, just like your love for lemons, but this time there’s no hiding from the truth. With less than a week before he leaves, you’re running out of time to confess your undying love. If you don’t tell him now, you risk losing him forever—but is your bond strong enough to survive the truth?
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡ playlist (best experience)
status: ongoing
warning: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction.
authors note - ahh!! this took a long time for me to write, and every chapter will be 10-15k chapters out of 6 chapters. Some warnings are, swearing, she fell first he fell too late, unrequited love for a bit, second chances, swearing, make-out sessions, underage drinking (I do not support) high school romance (18-19 years old btw) A lot of lemonade metaphors and angst.. a whole lot of it as well as bittersweet. I hope you enjoy!!
chapter one - lemon drops and last days
chapter two unspoken yet felt
chapter three bitter yet sweet
chapter four sour truths sweet lies
chapter five sweet lemonade
chapter six back to the core
epilogue sour endings, sweet beginnings
epilogue two lemonade stand
(inspired by @pixiefelixie - remeber this summer go check them out!!)
: ̗̀➛ pairing: lee felix x brat fem!reader (a bit of seungmin x reader)
: ̗̀➛ word count: ~8k
: ̗̀➛ content: fluff, smut, felix is the sweetest thing but so mean, reader actively tries to make felix mad, minor injury in the kitchen
you make a bet with seungmin: you've got one week to get your boyfriend, felix—who seems completely incapable of getting mad at you—to finally snap. after a series of failed attempts, you figure if anything’s going to work, it might as well be in bed.
author's note: i’ve been on a writing grind lately so here’s a second fic in one sitting because apparently i have no self-control. i’m shitting my balls. i need felix like yesterday. enjoy! ♡
smut warnings below the cut!
: ̗̀➛ smut warnings: hard dom!felix, explicit sexual content, oral (f. receiving), reader has the biggest degradation kink, brat taming, slight edging, light bondage, power play, unprotected piv (don't), missionary, doggy style, semi-voyeurism
you’d always thought of him as sunshine.
everyone did.
even when he wasn’t smiling, felix had that glow—warm and unbothered, with freckles that danced across his cheeks like constellations and a voice that made people turn around just to hear him speak again. he was soft. gentle. sweet in that quiet, domestic way. the kind of boy who folded your laundry before you even remembered you’d done it.
even in bed—he was gentle. worshipful. like every touch was a question and you were the only answer. he was all murmured praise, soft sighs, slow hands. he loved you softly. every time.
which is probably why no one—including you—had ever seen him mad.
not truly.
you were perched on the edge of the couch in the boys’ dorm, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of your hoodie. it was felix’s, naturally—oversized and warm and still faintly smelling like his laundry detergent.
you were here because you’d accidentally taken something you weren’t supposed to. a usb, to be exact. felix had handed it to you earlier in the day along with your own, and in your rush to leave, you’d pocketed the wrong one.
“i just feel so bad,” you groaned, glancing toward the hallway. “he said he needed it for something tonight. like, deadline-needed.”
seungmin was sprawled across the other end of the couch, legs kicked up, eyes on his phone. he barely glanced up as he responded.
“you’re being dramatic.”
“no, like—really bad. i shouldn’t have—”
“honestly?” he cut in, finally looking at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “i don’t think he’s even capable of getting mad at you.”
you blinked. “what?”
he chuckled, flipping his phone over. “i mean, come on. you could probably punch him in the face and he’d apologize for getting in the way of your fist.”
you laughed despite yourself. “that is so not true.”
“isn’t it?”
you opened your mouth to argue—but then the front door opened.
felix stepped in, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. his eyes found you immediately.
“hey,” you said, standing. “i brought it—sorry again, i seriously didn’t mean—”
“shh.” he was already moving toward you, gentle hands coming up to cradle your arms, thumbs brushing soothingly against the fabric of his hoodie—the one you were wearing. “don’t stress, angel. it’s okay.”
“but you said you needed it for tonight,” you mumbled, guilt creeping up your spine. “i should’ve double-checked—”
“and i should’ve labeled mine.” he gave a small laugh, pulling you closer, tucking your head under his chin with that easy warmth that always made your chest flutter. “it’s not a big deal. really.”
you swore you saw seungmin choke on a laugh in your peripheral vision.
your eyes flicked sideways—just in time to catch him turning away, phone suddenly so interesting he might’ve been reading the terms and conditions. his shoulders were shaking, just barely.
felix either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.
“i’m gonna head out again to drop this off,” he said, voice still soft, fingertips lingering at your elbow for a second longer before letting go.
you nodded, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “right. of course.”
“thanks for coming all the way back,” he added, gaze warm and fond, like you’d just done something heroic instead of, you know, returning the thing you accidentally stole. he gave your arm one last squeeze. “text me when you get home, yeah?”
“i will.”
then he was gone—door shutting behind him with that soft click that always left the room feeling quieter somehow.
and the very second it closed, seungmin’s voice rang out from behind you.
“god, that was disgusting.”
you turned.
“excuse me?”
he didn’t even look up from his phone. “you took his drive and somehow walked away with a hug, and a thank you.”
you opened your mouth to argue.
then closed it.
“okay, but—”
“nope. don’t justify it.” seungmin pointed his phone at the door.
you rolled your eyes, hoisting your bag over your shoulder, but the words stuck with you. warmed you a little too much. annoyingly so.
still, you couldn’t help yourself.
“he’s still a person. he’s not, like… impervious to irritation.” you muttered, half to yourself, half to the room. “if i pissed him off enough, he’d crack,”
seungmin didn’t even flinch. “tell me when that ever happens.”
you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “you know i’m gonna try to, just to prove you wrong.”
“mhm,” seungmin said flatly, not even looking up. “60 bucks. you have a week.”
“60 bucks,” you repeated. “i’m gonna find his limit,” you said, dead serious. “he has to have one.”
“good luck.”
you’d been thinking about it for days—how to do it, how to gently prod at the edge of felix’s emotional limits without actually hurting him. you weren’t trying to be cruel. you just wanted to see something other than that unwavering calm, that endless warmth. you wanted to prove he could feel sharp things, too. that he wasn’t made of clouds and soft blankets and chamomile tea.
jealousy. that was your angle.
was felix ever jealous? you genuinely didn’t know. he’d never so much as blinked when people flirted with you—though to be fair, you’d never exactly flirted back. you never had a reason to. you didn’t want to.
but now, you needed a reaction.
just enough to light a spark. not enough to burn the house down.
so when your company hosted a casual dinner event—open to significant others and friends—you didn’t hesitate to bring felix. he looked unfairly good that night, dressed in soft black slacks and a black button up that hugged his frame a little too well. his hand found yours under the table the second you sat down, thumb stroking slow, lazy circles against your palm like always.
you were seated at a long table with a mix of coworkers and guests, plates being passed around, wine glasses clinking gently, soft laughter filling the room.
he was beside you, of course—close and warm and always tuned in to you.
but the guy on your other side?
friendly. talkative. a little too charming in that “business casual” way. you leaned into it. not too obvious. just enough to let felix notice.
you laughed at something the guy said—tilting your head just slightly, touching his arm in that way that could maybe be seen as flirty. maybe. you were careful. just close enough to the line to toe it, not cross it.
felix didn’t say a word.
he was smiling, even. still soft-spoken. still squeezing your hand every now and then. still brushing your thigh under the table with his when he shifted in his seat. he even leaned in at one point and murmured, “you okay?”
you nodded, playing it cool. “mhm. just chatting.”
felix grinned. that same soft, sunny smile that always made you feel like you were the only one in the room.
“alright,” he said, brushing your cheek with his knuckle before pulling back like nothing was even slightly off.
he went back to being quiet and polite. still engaged in the conversation going around the table, nodding at someone’s story, chiming in with a laugh when appropriate. he didn’t stiffen. didn’t narrow his eyes. didn’t even glance at the guy beside you like he might be competition.
you sat there smiling and nodding at whatever work guy was saying about his vacation to bali, but your stomach was knotting. tighter by the second.
because you knew what you were doing. you knew exactly how much you were leaning. exactly when you let your laugh ring just a little louder, your fingers trail just a little longer.
but felix wasn’t reacting.
or at least—he wasn’t reacting the way you expected.
he was just… him. gentle. warm. steady. and he could’ve been using this moment to get back at you.
there were plenty of chances. the woman across the table who complimented his accent. the one seated diagonally, sipping wine and laughing just a little too brightly at his jokes. one even asked him how his skin was so clear and if he worked out—which, in fairness, was a valid question.
felix didn’t take the bait. he was polite, as always. gracious, even. gave small answers. thanked them with a nod and a soft smile. but he didn’t engage.
didn’t lean in. didn’t flirt. didn’t offer even a flicker of attention that could be mistaken as anything more than manners.
and slowly—almost like he was aware of your internal panic creeping in—he started leaning in closer to you. gradually, without showiness. his knee pressed against yours beneath the table. then reached for his water glass and poured some into yours before you could even realize it was empty.
this wasn’t going to work.
you weren’t going to rattle him. you weren’t going to get that flash of possessiveness, that glint of sharp jealousy in his eyes.
because felix didn’t play games.
not with you.
he loved you out loud, completely, and without keeping score. he didn’t need to punish you or mirror your actions to prove a point. he didn’t flinch under pressure. he didn’t crack under quiet provocations.
he just was. wholeheartedly. constant. grounded.
this wasn’t going to work.
it had been a few days since the whole work dinner experiment—since felix had gently, unknowingly, demolished your plan by doing absolutely nothing except love you the way he always did. respectfully. consistently. infuriatingly.
but you weren’t done.
not yet.
jealousy didn’t work, sure. but irritation? that had potential. everyone had a limit, and you were determined to find felix’s.
you were at his place now—well, technically his and seungmin’s—kitchen lights warm, sleeves rolled up, and flour already dusting the countertop like early snow.
the goal today was mild sabotage. nothing irreversible. nothing that would actually ruin the cake. just… enough sugar to make it way too sweet. enough to maybe make him sigh. maybe scold you a little. maybe just something.
you waited until he stepped away to grab a new mixing bowl, and then—quickly, quietly—you dumped in an extra quarter cup. maybe a little more.
by the time he came back, you were standing innocently with the spatula, “gently folding” the batter like you hadn’t just committed a culinary crime.
he paused. looked at the bowl. then looked at you.
“…did you add too much sugar?”
you blinked up at him. “no?”
he hummed. scooped a bit of batter on his finger. tasted it.
and then—smiled. not annoyed. just… amused.
“if you wanted it sweeter, you could’ve just told me,” he said, voice playful, handing you a towel to wipe your fingers off. “i’m gonna balance it so it doesn’t taste like pure syrup.”
you sighed loudly, dramatic, flopping back against the counter. “this is so annoying.”
he laughed and leaned past you to grab a lemon from the fruit bowl.
“go chop up some of the fruit, okay? i’ll deal with this.”
you looked at seungmin, who hadn’t said a word. he gave you a look that screamed pathetic.
you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to the cutting board, muttering under your breath.
great. jealousy failed. chaos failed. sugar sabotage failed. what were you supposed to do now? bake the cake upside down? hide the eggs?
you didn’t know.
you really didn’t know anymore.
your plan—whatever it had been—was unraveling, slipping through your fingers like flour dust in the air. and the worst part? you kind of… didn’t want to push anymore. felix had been so patient, so kind through all of it, and suddenly, you just felt silly. immature. you had something good, and you were trying to poke holes in it just to see if it would leak.
lost in thought, you didn’t even realize how close your fingers were to the blade until it was too late.
the knife slipped.
there was a sharp sting.
you yelped, the sound cutting through the warm haze of the kitchen as the knife clattered onto the counter and fruit scattered everywhere.
“ah!” you gasped, clutching your hand. blood was already rising.
felix’s head snapped up instantly. “what happened?”
you stepped back, breath shallow. “i—i cut myself—”
he was already there. crossing the kitchen faster than you’d ever seen him move, his hands reaching out to check your fingers—but the moment he saw the blood, something in him shifted.
“what were you even doing?” he snapped, voice sharper than the knife that slipped. he grabbed a towel with jerky, frustrated movements, wrapping it around your wound with practiced precision but no softness. “were you even paying attention?”
your lips parted, stunned. “i—i don’t know, i was just—”
“you weren’t thinking,” he cut in, tone clipped.
his voice rose, not yelling, but full-bodied, biting. that low, velvety rasp he usually used to whisper sweet things into your ear was now slicing through the air like it had teeth.
“for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shaking his head, “i asked you to do one simple thing. not play with the goddamn knife.”
you stared at him, completely disarmed. not just by the tone. but by how he looked.
chest rising and falling under his fitted sweater, sleeves pushed back just enough to show the flex of his forearms. his jaw clenched, eyes dark with something deeper than just irritation. he looked… furious. unshakable. and so hot it was almost insulting.
your mouth went dry.
you couldn’t stop staring—at the way felix was breathing, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, like he was trying to bite back whatever else he wanted to say. his hands, still stained with flour, flexed at his sides. every muscle in his jaw was tense.
seungmin stood up, crossing the kitchen to the cabinet.
he grabbed the first aid kit, crouching beside the chair you’d sunk into. he opened it like this wasn’t the most charged atmosphere he’d ever stood in. like felix hadn’t just snapped for the first time in recorded history.
“here,” he said, pulling out some antiseptic and a few band-aids. “don’t bleed on the tile. it’s ugly enough already.”
you gave him a weak glare, but he just smirked.
felix hadn’t moved. he was still standing there, looking at the floor now, his expression twisted with something like regret.
seungmin didn’t let up.
“you got really worked up there, man,” he said, tone light but clearly pointed.
that finally made felix move. he blinked like he was coming out of something, then turned toward you—eyes wide now, softer, voice quiet.
“i’m sorry, baby” he said.
you didn’t say anything for a second. just stared at him, still a little stunned by the whiplash.
but even now, with his shoulders slumped and his tone apologetic, he still looked good. still had that raw energy simmering just under the surface. still had you simmering.
you swallowed hard.
“it’s okay,” you said slowly.
seungmin raised a brow but said nothing, silently peeling the wrapper off a band-aid.
felix crouched in front of you, his hand ghosting over yours. his voice was soft again, almost too soft.
“i won’t yell like that again,” he murmured.
you blinked at him, and for a second—just a second—you wanted to say don’t promise that.
because god, the way his voice had cracked when he was angry. the way he looked at you like your carelessness hurt him. the way he shook with something that wasn’t just rage, but deep, desperate concern—you hadn’t expected it to do something to you.
but he was still doing everything out of love.
even when his voice rose and his hands tightened and his eyes darkened—he was still the same felix. still checking if you were okay. still apologizing even though you had started this whole mess.
and somehow, that made it worse.
you hadn’t even pissed him off correctly. not really. he didn’t yell because you were annoying. he yelled because you were bleeding and he didn’t know how else to handle the sudden fear curling in his gut.
and now he was kneeling in front of you, shame written in every line of his face, like he had done something unforgivable.
you wished he hadn't come down from it so fast.
you wished—maybe more than anything—that he knew he didn’t have to keep being perfect for you to love him.
you didn’t know what else to do.
jealousy had failed. sabotage had failed. even blood hadn’t done it right. every attempt chipped at something inside you—your confidence, your ego, your grasp on what you were even trying to prove. and yet…
seungmin had texted you the evening of the baking incident:
[ that was a close one ] [ but it didn’t count. try harder. ]
you'd stared at it for a long time. not because he was wrong—but because you agreed.
so now? one last attempt.
if you couldn’t get felix to be mad at you, then maybe—just maybe—you could make him lose control somewhere else.
which is why he was between your thighs right now.
you were sprawled across his bed, hips twitching, sheets clutched in your fists.
felix was eating you out like it was a mission. like you were something sacred, and he had all the time in the world to worship every inch of you.
his mouth was obscene—lips slick, tongue working you open so slowly you wanted to scream. and he kept murmuring things between licks, low and reverent.
felix’s tongue traced a slow, reverent line up your slit, lips closing over your clit with a tenderness that made your hips twitch. he groaned softly into you, the sound vibrating through your core like a low hum of devotion, and his arms curled tighter around your thighs, anchoring you in place. every motion was soaked in patience, in worship. you were trembling, half mad with need already, and all he’d done was kiss you like he loved you—which, of course, he did.
“taste so good, angel… always so sweet for me, aren’t you?”
“f-felix…” your voice broke on his name, hands knotted in the sheets. he just hummed again, content like he could spend the rest of his life here, lips gliding over your clit, tongue flicking in slow, perfect circles that had your thighs quivering. he was gentle, god, so gentle. like you were the only thing in the world worth touching delicately.
and maybe that was the problem.
you were panting, already so close—too close—and he hadn’t even slipped a finger inside yet. you could feel your orgasm mounting fast, could feel the heat blooming in your belly, the ache curling in your spine, and you knew what would come next. he’d hold you through it. he’d kiss your thighs, murmur praise, make you feel like you were the center of the universe.
you were already trembling, one hand fisting in his sheets, the other tangled in his hair, breath coming in staggered whines. he didn’t speed up. didn’t deviate. tongue curling soft and hot over your clit again and again until your hips twitched and a ragged moan slipped out without your permission.
and then he paused. just for a second.
his eyes lifted to yours, warm and glassy, lips shiny with you.
“shhh, darling…” he whispered, and the way he said it made your stomach flip. “seungmin’s in the living room, remember?”
your chest heaved. right. right—he always told you. always so careful to remind you, not because he was annoyed, but because you’d confessed once—embarrassed and flushed, the sheet pulled up to your chin after a particularly loud session—that you hated the idea of his roommate hearing. and since then, felix had always made sure to keep things quiet. to warn you. to soothe you when your voice got too high, your cries too desperate. he’d press a kiss to your throat, a hand to your mouth, shushing you.
but tonight, something twisted in you.
you weren’t going to hold back.
so when his mouth dipped again, lips closing over your clit in a slow, gentle suck, you let it out—a high, shaky moan that cracked on the end, followed by a breathless, “fuck, felix—!”
he froze.
lifted his head.
his mouth was still glistening, chin slick with you, flushed and beautiful in that way that always made your stomach twist. but his brows were drawn, just slightly, and his voice—when it came—was low and firm, not scolding but edged with something new.
“hey.” his thumb stroked up your inner thigh, slow but deliberate. “quiet down.”
it wasn’t a question. wasn’t a soft reminder like before. it was a command.
and it did something to you.
your breath hitched, thighs twitching around his shoulders as the authority in his tone settled in your chest like a stone dropped into water—rippling outward, stirring everything.
still, something in you bristled.
not in defiance. not exactly.
but you couldn’t stop yourself.
you pouted. just a little. “why?”
his eyes narrowed. there was a flicker of disbelief there, a tension that rippled beneath the surface like he didn’t quite believe you were pushing this boundary.
“because seungmin’s out there,” he said, slower this time, more deliberate, as if you’d forgotten. “and you hate being overheard.”
you shrugged, arching your back slightly, enough to grind your hips closer to his face again. “maybe i changed my mind.”
his eyes flicked to your cunt, glistening and swollen and shamelessly on display, then back up to your face. his expression had shifted. no longer just disbelief. something darker had crept in now—possessive and sharp, curling like smoke at the edges of his voice.
“well i don’t want him to hear you.”
the words were quiet. flat. measured.
you blinked, breath catching.
“i don’t want anyone hearing what you sound like when i’ve got you like this,” he continued, leaning in until you could feel the heat of his breath against your inner thigh.
you bit your lip, the heat rising in your face. in your chest.
“but…” you started, trying to keep your tone airy. “you always do what i want.”
that did it.
you watched his jaw clench tighter, watched the tension rise in his shoulders, watched the composure crack. just a little.
felix rose—slowly, smoothly, like a tide pulling back before it crashes—and settled over you, forearms bracketing your head, chest brushing yours as he leveled his face just above yours.
you felt it instantly.
that shift.
gone was the usual ease in his posture, the warm, pliant softness you always leaned into. what loomed above you now wasn’t your sweet, sunny felix—it was the part of him he always held back, the part that simmered under the surface like magma, always contained, until you poked at it.
and tonight?
you’d done nothing but poke.
he leaned in again, slow, like a tiger in tall grass, and planted his palm flat against the mattress beside your head. his voice was soft now, but laced with something that made your spine arch—authority, finality, control.
“you really think i don’t know?”
you swallowed hard.
“that you’ve been bratty for days,” he said, like it was fact. like it was math. “flirting with that guy at dinner. cutting your hand because you couldn’t stand that i didn’t break. ”
your cheeks flamed, breath catching, but you still held the edge in your smile.
“i was just distracted—”
his hand moved fast, gripping your jaw—not hard, just enough to make you stop talking.
“don’t,” he said. “don’t give me that look.”
your heart kicked up behind your ribs. he’d never grabbed your face like that before. never interrupted. never spoke like that.
it made your thighs press together. instinctive.
and he noticed.
he dipped closer, forehead brushing yours, and you could feel his heart beating in time with yours—hard, steady, controlled.
“you think i haven’t been watching you push?” he hissed. “every little act.”
you whimpered, lips parting—but he kept going.
“you’ve been begging for this,” he said, biting out the words. “not out loud. but with every goddamn thing you’ve done.”
you shivered.
“and you think i don’t see you?” he growled. “you think i don’t know exactly what that look means?”
his hand grabbed your jaw, fingers firm, tilting your face toward his—close enough to kiss, but he didn’t. he just held you there, breath brushing your lips, eyes burning through you.
“tell me the truth,” he said, voice a warning, a promise. “tell me what you want.”
you could barely breathe.
your voice came out thin, cracked around the edges. “you, like this…” your eyes were wide, lashes wet, trembling as you looked up at him. “this is what i want.”
felix didn’t flinch.
didn’t soften.
he just stared, his grip on your jaw unrelenting, eyes dark and unforgiving as they searched your face—saw the way you shook beneath him, the way your thighs pressed together, the way your chest rose and fell in shallow, panicked little gasps.
“of course it is,” he said flatly.
you blinked.
he tilted your face up a little more, enough that it hurt your neck to hold the position. his voice dropped, hard and disgusted. “look at you. shaking like a leaf, soaking the fucking sheets—just because i stopped being nice.”
you winced.
but your cunt clenched hard.
the words cut. not because they were cruel—but because they were true. and he knew it. you weren’t just turned on. you were unraveling. dripping and desperate, your body buzzing from the tension, your shame crawling over your skin like fire ants—but still, the burn felt good.
“you’re pathetic,” he said, letting go of your jaw like your skin burned his fingers.
he pushed you back roughly, your bound wrists catching against the bed as your shoulders hit the mattress. his hands were already on your thighs, spreading them open without care. not reverent. not gentle.
like you were his and he was sick of pretending otherwise.
“you want to be hated, don’t you? love isn’t enough for you?” he muttered, gaze locked on your slick cunt as he stroked two fingers through the mess between your legs.
your hips bucked.
“well,” felix said, voice like gravel dragged slow across glass, “if that’s what you want…”
his fingers sank into you—two at once, fast, merciless. your body jolted, a high cry tearing from your throat before you could stop it. he twisted his wrist, curled just right, and you felt the tremble start in your toes.
“i’ll give it to you.”
you gasped, back arching. “y-you don’t mean that,” you choked, words splintering on a sob. “you love me—”
he laughed.
dark. sharp.
“i’m gonna fuck you like i don’t.” he said, without softness.
his fingers pulled free. you barely had a second to breathe before he shoved your thighs wide, leaned over, and pressed his cock to your dripping cunt—still wet from your own need, from the tears and the shame and the way his voice had stripped you bare.
he held there.
right at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing just enough to make you squirm, to make your hips buck in desperate little jerks that only dragged the moment out longer. he could’ve slammed in. could’ve torn the rest of you open in a single thrust, left you breathless and sobbing.
but he didn’t.
because under all that dark fire, under the roughness and anger and heat, he was still him. still sweet. still good. still felix.
his jaw was tight, the muscle ticking as he looked down at you—ruined and trembling, legs spread wide, wrists bound and face flushed with lust and tears and something more fragile. he blinked, and for a second, just a second, you saw the question flicker through his expression.
“is that what you want?” he asked.
his voice had dropped low. he was still offering you a way out. still giving you that choice.
you knew it for what it was.
you nodded, frantic. fast. moaning as you tried to roll your hips, tried to force him inside again, but his grip on your thigh only tightened.
“talk to me,” he rasped, a thread of control still clinging to him.
you blinked at him through the haze, a smile curling on your lips—half brat, half breathless.
“yes,” you said, voice thin and greedy. “yes, i want it. i want you to fuck me like you’re sick of me. like i finally got under your skin.”
he cursed.
low and vicious.
you saw it—the moment that final wall crumbled, the way the storm in his eyes finally spilled over. his cock pushed in deep, slow at first, like he wanted to draw it out, make it last.
but then your cunt clenched—tight and wet and fluttering around him—and he snapped.
“you did,” he growled, pulling back and slamming in hard enough to make the bed jolt, your cry piercing the room. “you fucking did.”
his hips snapped forward again—louder this time, harder, brutal enough to knock the air from your lungs, the rhythm punching out soft, choked sounds from your throat with every thrust. not words. not anymore. just ragged little whimpers, helpless and high, your whole body jostling beneath him as he used you—fucked you—with none of the gentleness you’d always known.
“you wanted this,” he spat, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his hairline onto your chest as he folded you tighter, pushing your thighs up toward your shoulders to drive in even deeper. “you fucking asked for it.”
you sobbed—quiet at first, then louder, messy and wet as the tears finally spilled. they streaked hot down your cheeks, dripping into your hair, your jaw slack with pleasure too sharp to feel good and too good to survive. your wrists twisted uselessly in their binds, fingers curling tight as your whole body tried to keep up with the pace of him.
it was too much.
it was everything.
he growled—an actual growl, raw and guttural—as he looked down at you, at the tears rolling over your cheeks, at the way your mouth opened and closed, begging silently for something neither of you could name.
his rhythm never faltered.
not once.
even as your body broke beneath him—hips arching, wrists straining, cheeks soaked with tears that burned like proof—he kept going. kept fucking you with that same relentless pace, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, the sound obscene, wet and cruel in the dark.
he watched your face twist with every thrust—watched you come apart, watched the edge of pleasure curdle into panic and drag you right back down into need.
and even then—you didn’t stop.
you couldn’t stop.
your lips trembled open around another sob, your voice half-hoarse, but still you met his glare with a shaky smirk, eyes glazed and bratty to your last breath.
“i never knew you were capable of being mean,” you gasped, voice cracking as you arched under him.
he snarled, something between pain and disbelief, and slammed in so deep you screamed, your entire body jolting up the bed from the force of it.
“because i love you,” he growled, voice so low it scraped the inside of your chest. “i’ve only ever tried to treat you well. like you matter. like you’re everything to me.”
he leaned in closer, one hand pressing hard into your hip, the other curling around your throat.
“but that’s not what you wanted, was it?”
you sobbed. not an answer. just a broken, keening sound.
he dipped lower, lips barely brushing yours. “you wanted this. you wanted me mean. you wanted me to use you, and now you’ve got it.”
his cock dragged out slow, thick and aching—and then drove back in so hard your moan broke on your tongue.
“you never wanted soft.”
you blinked up at him, tears hot and sticky down your temples, your mouth quivering.
“i was—” you panted, a hiccupped cry catching in your chest, “i was trying to prove a point—”
he sneered, not stopping, not relenting, pounding into you like he wanted to fuck the brat right out of your soul.
“to who, y/n?” he hissed, words snapping like whips.
you moaned—high and messy and wrong, because you were still so turned on, because the way he said your name made your body sing even while you trembled.
“who?” he shouted again, voice rising with disbelief and something deeper—something unspoken that cracked open in his throat like it hurt to say.
and you said it.
whimpered it.
half-mindless, but not mindless enough.
“seungmin.”
felix went still.
then he laughed.
it was low. bitter. a hollow bark of disbelief as his hand slid up the length of your thigh, slow and mocking, his cock still throbbing just barely inside you.
“fucking knew it,” he muttered, more to himself than you, jaw tight as he gave a small, almost deranged shake of his head. “you and him. the way you bicker. the looks.”
his hand curled around your throat again, thumb dragging over the mess of tears smeared across your cheek. not to wipe them.
just to feel them.
“and of course you’d moan his name out while i’m balls deep in you.”
you gasped, breath stuttering under the press of his palm, legs twitching around his hips.
he laughed again—sharper now, teeth flashing in the low light. “fucking pathetic.”
you whimpered.
“here i am,” he snarled, voice dropping to a whisper, “treating you like you’re mine—spending months giving you everything. folding your laundry. holding you when you cry.”
he slammed into you again, cruel and sudden.
you screamed, head snapping back.
“and you’ve been pushing me,” he said, voice quiet, almost calm—but beneath it, something was cracking. something brittle.
another thrust, hard and fast, punching a choked cry out of your lungs.
“all of that just to prove a point to kim seungmin?”
your mouth dropped open—useless, silent, your head lolling on the pillow as his cock hit that deep, devastating spot again and again, your body unable to hide how badly you were still enjoying it.
he sneered. “do you even understand what you’re doing?”
your eyes flicked to him—blurry, swimming, lashes soaked—and your lips moved, trying to form a denial. but you couldn’t lie.
not with your cunt sucking him in so greedily. not with the moans that still clawed up your throat even when you bit down on them. not with the guilt chewing holes through your stomach while your body begged for more.
“i—i wasn’t trying—” you whispered, but he cut you off.
“you weren’t trying?”
he laughed. dark and sharp and filled with something that sounded like it hurt his ribs to release.
“god, you’re worse than i thought,” he spat, pulling out just enough to let the next thrust slam in deeper. “you don’t even know what game you’re playing. you’re playing me, you’re playing him—”
you didn’t know anymore.
if he was really mad. if this was just another version of his anger wrapped in arousal, or if something had actually shattered under the weight of everything you’d done. you couldn’t tell if he meant the things he said—or if he was just saying them because it was what you’d asked for, begged for, pushed for until something inside him snapped.
all you knew was that your head was spinning, your lungs barely worked, and your body couldn’t stop trembling around him.
“i’m close,” you whimpered, your voice a rasp, broken and high and soaked in panic, “felix—please—”
he didn’t slow. if anything, he fucked you harder.
you were sobbing now, face sticky with tears, wrists straining in the binds as your body shook from the pressure curling tighter and tighter in your belly.
“i don’t think you deserve to cum,” he hissed, biting the words like they tasted foul. “not after what you did. you little bitch.”
the word slapped.
“i’m sorry,” you cried, the words tumbling out, raw and hoarse and true. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—i didn’t—felix, please, i’m sorry—”
and for a second, just a second, something shifted in his face.
his brow twitched. his grip faltered. his eyes—not all the way, but just a little—softened.
he looked down at you, at your flushed face, your tear-soaked skin, your body trembling and still trying to push back against him, even through the guilt, even through the shame. begging for him.
he cursed under his breath. a low, ragged sound.
then he pulled out.
you whined—sharp and instinctive, your whole body lurching, chasing him.
“no—please—”
but he grabbed your hips and flipped you, fast and rough, until you were flat on your stomach, then dragging you up to your knees with no gentleness, no care.
he leaned in, lips at your ear, voice back to that quiet, dangerous whisper.
“all fours.”
you scrambled to obey, tears still dripping from your chin onto the sheets, your ass high, back arched, your pussy swollen and dripping and empty.
he stared for a long second.
then, flatly:
“prove it. prove your sorry.”
he didn’t move.
not even a little.
just knelt behind you, one hand resting heavy on your lower back, the other wrapped around the curve of your ass—fingers digging in, spreading you open so wide the air hit your cunt like ice. his cock stood thick and flushed against your thigh, glistening with everything he’d already taken from you. close. so close.
but he didn’t move
“you want to cum so badly?” he said, voice low and flat, unreadable, like it didn’t matter either way. “then do it yourself.”
your breath caught.
you blinked, stunned.
he gripped your ass harder, a sharp squeeze that made you jolt forward, but he didn’t move to stop you.
“come on,” he said, the cruelty now bitter instead of sharp. “you were so good at playing games earlier.”
your whole body shook.
you whimpered once—just one broken sound—and then moved. slowly. shamefully.
you rocked your hips back. tentative at first. your slick folds kissed the head of his cock and you moaned, soft and strangled, before pushing further, inching down onto him until the stretch began to burn again.
it wasn’t graceful. it wasn’t like when he took care of you.
it was work.
every inch felt like a trial. your legs trembled under the weight of it, thighs threatening to give out as you lowered yourself onto him, your breath coming in ragged sobs, your cunt pulsing with how close you were, how desperately your body wanted him to take over.
but he didn’t.
“make yourself cum,” he snapped, voice tighter now.
you nodded, rocking your hips again—sliding down fully this time, burying him inside, your body jerking as your sob turned to a long, high cry. your knees were slipping, your arms too bound to help you balance, and every time you moved your hips, your body twitched with the effort.
he just watched.
watched you ride his cock without rhythm, without grace—just need. just ruin. his hands stayed on your ass, holding it open, holding you wide for him to see.
but he didn’t help.
you were doing it alone.
“felix, i can’t—”
“you wanted this.”
and so you kept going.
kept fucking yourself back on him, over and over, your movements messy and broken, your body trembling with the weight of everything you’d done—everything you’d wanted.
and as you cried, he gripped your ass harder, dragging his thumbs over the skin, watching your hole stretch around him like it was all you were good for.
your thighs were giving out.
completely.
each roll of your hips got weaker, sloppier—your knees buckling inward, your movements more tremble than thrust, the sheer weight of him inside you unbearable.
your arms were still bound, chest pressed into the sheets, your cries muffled now—raw and constant, more sob than sound—as you tried to keep going. but your body wouldn’t move.
you shook your head, weakly, voice cracking as you rasped, “i—i can’t… i can’t do it…”
you felt his exhale first—long and deep. then the weight of his hands on your hips shifted. and his voice followed, low and so done.
“of course you can’t.”
you shivered.
“you couldn’t even fuck yourself properly,” he muttered, hands gripping your hips with new purpose. “you begged for this. cried for it. ruined both of us trying to prove something—and now you can’t even finish what you started?”
you sobbed but that was all he gave you time for. because he snapped his hips forward. you screamed, head slamming into the pillow, the thrust knocking your whole body up the bed.
and then he didn’t stop.
he fucked into you from behind, deep and punishing, dragging you back onto his cock with every stroke, the sound of skin on skin wet and violent, your cries rising in pitch until you couldn’t hold anything in anymore.
“isn’t this what you wanted?” he growled, voice right at your ear now, one hand on the back of your neck, the other gripping your waist so tight it burned. “to get used like this? to cry on my dick and act like you’re sorry?”
your throat was raw, your eyes stinging, your body screaming with the oncoming wave, your orgasm building so hard it almost felt like pain.
“felix—fuck—i’m gonna—”
his pace didn’t stutter.
didn’t falter.
“yeah?” he breathed, his voice a rasp, full of hate and heat and something so possessive it twisted your stomach. “that’s right.”
his thrusts turned vicious, his cock pounding into you, his voice ragged and shaking.
“cum then.”
and you did.
you came with a scream—full-bodied, wrecked, your spine arching like it was trying to tear free from your skin. it hit so hard you thought for a second you might black out. your pussy clamped down around him, fluttering and pulsing in rhythmic spasms, gushing slick down his cock in hot, wet waves that soaked your thighs and his lap and the sheets beneath you.
felix groaned—a sound ripped from the very pit of his chest, primal and deep, his pace faltering for the first time as he felt it. felt you soak him. felt you break.
“fuck—” he hissed, slamming into you again—chasing it now, rutting through the mess of your orgasm, the loud slap of his hips against your soaked skin. “you’re dripping, baby—fuck, you’re making such a mess—”
you sobbed into the sheets, body twitching, overstimulation crawling up your spine like static. but he didn’t stop. wouldn’t let up. not now. not after all of it.
and then—slowly, like the fire had finally started to burn itself out—his rhythm began to falter. just a little. his groans turned heavier, strained, his thrusts rougher but less precise. his body hunched forward, chest heaving, cock throbbing inside you as he buried himself one last time.
he shuddered against your back, hips twitching as he came inside of you, the warmth of it spilling deep and raw, filling you in heavy bursts. he stayed there for a moment, his hands slowly loosening their grip on your hips, breath ghosting against your shoulder.
then, gently, slowly, his body folded over yours.
his forehead pressed to the space between your shoulder blades. his chest to your back. one hand slid forward—shaky, tentative—and rested just beneath your ribs.
he stayed there, breathing with you.
then, without a word, he eased back.
his chest lifted off yours, his grip on your hip released fully, and for a moment, the loss of contact felt colder than the air in the room. he slid one palm down the arch of your spine, a soft, absent stroke. then came the slow shift of his hips—his cock slipping out, careful and deliberate, so tender in contrast to everything before.
you whimpered from the loss and the mess—his cum already spilling out of you in lazy drips, sliding down your thighs, thick and warm, clinging to the backs of your knees as gravity pulled it down. you twitched from the sensitivity, your body still trembling in little aftershocks, your hips useless, your arms limp where they lay tangled and bound under your chest.
you heard the faint shuffle of a drawer, the rustle of fabric, the hiss of warm water being poured. your eyes fluttered closed, head sinking into the pillow, your whole body too loose to lift.
you barely registered the soft wet cloth between your thighs until it was there—warm, soothing. he held you gently, one hand under your hip to tilt you, the other cleaning you with slow, careful strokes, wiping away the slick, the sweat, the release still dripping out of you.
he then settled you on clean sheets, wrapped a new blanket over your shoulders.
still nothing.
not a single word.
but he lay beside you, close but not pressed in, his fingers brushing soft through your hair, over your temple, down the curve of your jaw. you blinked slow and you opened your eyes.
and there he was.
your felix.
bathed in the low light of the room, hair a tousled halo of gold against the pillow, freckles blooming soft across his cheeks, lips pink and parted just barely. he looked tired. beautiful. like something that shouldn’t exist outside a dream.
you loved it. all of it. the softness now. the brutality before.
the way he made space for every version of you. the way he let himself be more than just the sun.
“i love you, felix.”
his hand stilled, resting against your cheek. his eyes softened then blinked, and they turned glassy.
“i love you too,” he whispered, his voice low, husky, still thick with the weight of everything.
you gave a little smile, lids already starting to droop again, your limbs heavy under the blanket he’d wrapped around you.
“i wouldn’t want you any other way,” you murmured.
that made him laugh—quiet, breathless, a sound like surrender.
and then you laughed too. barely a sound, more breath than voice, your smile curling into the pillow as your eyes slipped closed again.
he stayed beside you.
his fingers returned to your hair, softer than ever now, smoothing it back from your face as your breathing evened out, your body finally letting go.
and when you fell asleep, it was in silence.
the next morning, you woke slowly—warm, sore in all the right places, and still tangled in the soft scent of felix. the sheets around you were a little crooked, the pillow beside you empty.
you blinked blearily and reached for your phone, but it wasn’t the screen that caught your eye.
there was a note. folded and sitting neatly on the nightstand.
recording right now, but i’ll be back soon. pour yourself a cup of coffee. i love you! – lix ♡
you smiled—small, sleepy, still a little ruined from the night before. the words made your chest ache and flutter all at once. he hadn’t said anything heavy. no apologies. no over-explanations. just soft and simple. just felix.
you stretched out your limbs, wincing slightly at the ache before dragging yourself out of bed and into one of felix’s oversized sweaters and boxers.
barefoot and quietly smug, you padded down the hallway into the kitchen.
and there he was.
seungmin.
leaning against the counter in sweats and a hoodie, eyes fixed on his phone, coffee half-drunk on the table beside him. he looked up when he heard you—expression unreadable—and you did what anyone would do after getting absolutely obliterated in the next room over by his bandmate.
you pretended nothing happened.
“morning,” you said, voice light, moving straight to the coffee pot. “didn’t think you’d be up.”
“i’ve been up,” he said simply.
you nodded and reached for a mug—felix’s, the pale blue one with the tiny chip in the rim—and poured yourself a cup. steam curled up around your face, and you focused on it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
and then you felt it.
his presence. he stepped closer. closer.
you didn’t dare turn around.
then, casually—like it was nothing—he reached over your shoulder and set something on the counter in front of you.
sixty bucks in cash.
you stared at the bills for a second.
then turned.
slowly.
seungmin was already taking a sip of his coffee, eyes flicking to yours over the rim of his mug.
“congrats.”
your mouth twitched, the corner pulling into the smallest smile.
you looked down at the cash again and without saying anything, you plucked the bills off the counter and shoved them straight into the front pocket of felix’s hoodie like you’d just been handed your trophy.
“you really thought i wouldn’t pull it off?” you asked, turning back to your coffee, tone breezy.
“i hoped you wouldn’t,” he deadpanned. “i was rooting for the soft boy.”
you huffed a laugh, lifting the mug to your lips. “he’s still soft.”
seungmin gave you a long, dry look.
you shrugged, eyes twinkling over the rim. “...just not all the time.”
he snorted.
then leaned back against the counter, sipping slow from his mug. “so,” he said casually, “how’d you do it?”
“do what?”
“make him snap.”
you licked your lips, fighting another smile. “i might’ve… slipped your name in there a few times.”
his eyes narrowed, slow. “yeah?”
“just—it got him pretty worked up.” you said, laughing as you set the mug down. seungmin stared for a beat.
then—he rolled his eyes. “of course it did.”
there was a long pause. not uncomfortable. just tension.
he said, quiet but clear, “tell him he doesn’t have anything to worry about.”
you nodded.
“i will.”
you stepped back slowly, letting the silence hold, and turned toward the hallway—when the front door clicked open.
both your heads turned.
felix stepped in, hair tied back, hoodie sleeves bunched at his elbows, a little windblown from the walk. his eyes lit up the moment he saw you.
“hey, angel,” he said, smile so warm it melted straight into your ribs.
you crossed the room in a few slow steps, rising onto your toes to meet him halfway. your hand curled around his jaw, thumb brushing the skin just below his cheekbone, and you kissed him.
his other hand found your waist immediately, like muscle memory, pulling you in as he smiled against your lips. he pulled away just enough to wrap his arms around you, tucking you into his chest. his chin rested lightly on top of your head, breath warm as it fanned through your hair.
you melted into him, your hands slipping under the hem of his hoodie, fingertips grazing the bare skin at his waist. his heart beat steady against your cheek, and you let yourself breathe him in.
then, behind you, a shift in the air.
felix’s gaze lifted—over your shoulder.
met seungmin’s across the room.
you didn’t see what was unraveling between the two of them.
after a moment, you pulled back slightly, enough to tilt your head and meet his eyes.
felix looked down at you with a smile. and that was all you needed.
Synopsis:
Minho had everything under control. At least, that's what he liked to portray to those around him. But she saw through it, leaving him with no other choice but to get away from her. The question is, will he be able to resist his urges enough to stay away?
Pairing: Dom!Minho x Fem!Reader
Genre: Porn w/o plot, angst
Word count: 3.7k
Angst. Semi-established relationship. Mutual pining. Porn without plot. Light BDSM. D/S dynamics. Orgasm control. Edging. Fingering (female receiving). Oral (female receiving). Penetration. Unprotected sex (wrap before you tap). Breath play. Corruption kink. Nicknames like "goddess," "gorgeous," "baby/ babe" & "good girl." Slight degradation. Praise kink. Healthy communication. Aftercare. Third person POV.
A/n: I'm not a native english speaker and I spell like a rake so grammatical errors and spelling errors are bound to be found.
Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ only.
This is an original work. Do not repost, re-upload or otherwise redistribute.
Minho took a deep breath, letting the bitter-sweet scent of the freshly brewed coffee overflow his senses as he brought the cup closer to his face. His muscles relaxed as he released his breath. The late summer breeze provided a feeling of familiarity and comfort as it seeped through the fabric of his white shirt, clinging to his shape. The warm rays of the afternoon sun gently hugged the skin on his arms.
He despised days like this one. Days that should be relaxing. Days he had set aside to allow himself some peace of mind, to free himself of everyday stress and obligations. Instead, he found himself lost in the sounds in his mind. The overwhelming onslaught of thoughts clouding his senses. Tightly squeezing his chest like a hydraulic press.
His heart ached longingly at the thought of her. Her image, breathtaking and pure, stuck in the back of his mind. She had been the first person to see him for who he truly was. The first to acknowledge his flaws, while still embracing the entirety of his being with the tender touch of a fated lover. Her affection was kind, profound and it downright terrified him. Never before had he felt such a strong connection to another. Nevertheless, her attachment often proved too much for him to handle. Before, he had always managed to come back to his senses, but this time was different. He had promised himself to stay away. Drained by the confusing emotions the outside had brought, he had confined himself to his apartment.
He didn’t need her, not really. He kept repeating the words over and over in his mind. The security she offered was something he could only ever hope to receive long term, after all.
He took another sip from his cup, letting his body melt into the cushiony pillows of his outdoor lounge chair. His attempt to drown out the ringing in his ears proved futile, leading him to concentrate on the velvety fabric beneath him instead.
< Bzzt >
The sudden buzz of his phone jolted him out of his new-found comfort. He took a breath through gritted teeth as he swiped down on his phone screen to read the notification.
[ Missed call: You have 8 missed call(s) from “Goddess.” ]
[ Voicemail: You have 1 missed voicemail(s). ]
“Stupid goddess…” he muttered under his breath, bitterness clinging to his voice like the strongest glue.
He prepared himself as best he could. Steadying his nerves before pressing on the notification. All sounds were nearly drowned out by the loud thumping of his pulse in his ears.
“Do not falter, Minho” he reminded himself.
“Baby? Are you okay? Don’t just shut me out like this. Talk to me. Please? Can't we just talk this out?”
Her words clear as day through the speaker of his phone. The sound of her voice… just as angelic as he remembered.
He desired nothing more than to hold her in his arms. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to return her calls, to make it right. But his fear still overpowered him. The risk of hurting her was too great. What if his desires would some day come to hurt her? He couldn't risk it, even though she was willing.
She had told him multiple times that she could handle it. That she desired nothing more than to be owned by him, used by him. Have him in ways no one ever had before. She trusted him fully, and he trusted her. But what if that wasn’t enough? He didn’t want to figure it out. He needed to cool off, distract himself before his mind became clouded with nothing but impure thoughts of her.
Turning off the icy-water, Minho felt somewhat relieved for the first time in days. He had hidden himself away in his apartment for a week trying to avoid her. He had spent countless sleepless nights staring at her contact in his phone; resisting the urge to call her. They had gone from calling, texting and meeting each other every day for weeks, just for him to cut all communication as soon as he started feeling that nagging feeling of familiarity.
Ever the pleasure seeker, the circumstances under which he had met her was no exception. They met each other on a night out. Him out with his boys, her with her girls when their eyes met across the dancefloor. Inebriated lust washed over them faster than the rush of illicit substances as soon as his gaze fell on her. One influenced night of adult fun, resulting in a steady situationship. He supposed the salacious want he felt for her was just that, a mere chemical reaction. A simple biological process…strong enough to awaken the darkest of fantasies. Of course, no one would blame him for it. Not if they had felt the spread of fiery intoxication her big, pleading eyes ignited in his veins whenever she looked at him. In fact, they would grant him a standing ovation for his level of self-restraint, he was sure.
She knew how to awaken the demon in him … without him ever having to share any of his earthly desires with her. He reckoned the only logical explanation was for her to have been an ancient goddess sent to earth specifically for him. She was made for him; of that he was certain. He wanted to make her happy, protect her from evil, and become a better man for her. Alas, his deep desire to covet her was greater. He needed to claim her, mark her as his own. He craved the corruption of her purity, to make her obsessed with him to the point of others shying away. The mere thought of someone attempting to lay hands on the person he considered to be his most sacred treasure turned his thoughts murderous. He shook himself back to reality.
He carefully wrapped his towel around his waist, strands of silver still dripping down the frame of his face as he mindlessly stepped into his kitchen to pour himself a glass of golden stress-relief. He grabbed a lowball from the cabinet above him, carefully placing two large cubes of ice in the glass before pouring a double of usquebaugh over them. Minho felt a comforting warmth spread across his chest as he swallowed the first sip of his drink. Smooth notes of white chocolate and roasted coffee beans lingering on his palate. The sound of faint knocking brought him back to reality.
The door to his apartment opened with a soft click, revealing a half naked Minho to…her, whiskey glass in hand. Her cheeks turning rose at the unexpected state of him. Droplets of crystal left wet trails from the nape of his neck down to his protruding abs, his honey skin prickling at the cold outside his loft. His face, just as surprised as hers.
They stood frozen, taking in each other’s form for a minute before she finally broke out of her trance.
“I've been trying to reach you.” she spoke softly, voice low as if trying to not scare him away.
“I've been busy.” he deadpanned.
A lie. They both knew it. Minho looked at the drink in his hands, her eyes following his gaze as he swirled the liquid in his glass.
“Look at me, Minho.”
He shut his eyes, forehead wrinkling with annoyance. He wished for her to disappear. Her presence was unbearable. He hated when she spoke softly to him, hated the way it comforted him. Hated how much it made him want to lean on her, depend on her. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He swore he would never depend on another again. Not after the pain he had been through.
His life had been a series of burned bridges and betrayals, making him promise himself to never venture into something deeper than the physical connection of two bodies. But she was different. She saw him. She gave him the hope he thought he had given up on years ago.
“I said, look at me.”
Her voice was firm. Caring. He could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ears getting louder. If he did not close the door now, he would not be able to resist her. Her voice was starting to draw him in, he could feel it. Desire slowly started to cloud his senses. His entire body screamed for him to kiss her, hold her close, and steal her away from the world. He wouldn't. He couldn’t.
“Go home, gorgeous. Let’s talk another time.”
It took everything he had to reject her, to send her back from whence she came. But he was running out of time, and he had to make her leave while he still had some semblance of control over himself.
With determined eyes, she took a step closer. This prompted Minho to let go of the door as he stumbled to keep the distance between them. The door shut closely behind her as soon as she set foot into his apartment.
“I know why you’ve been hiding from me” she finally spoke.
“I haven’t been hiding from you. I’ve been-”
“Busy? Yeah, you keep saying that and yet you always read my texts as soon as I send them, but never reply to me.”
Minho stared in amazement, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out how she had known. All those nights he had spent reading her messages, fighting his inner demons to not respond when she called out for him.
“How the hell would you know?”
She let out a deep, exasperated sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm herself.
“You have your message read receipts on, babe…”
Minho stared at her dumbfounded. Amazed that even he could stoop to such a high level of pure stupidity. He managed to pull himself together, trying his best to sound unbothered.
“So? I’m not allowed to read the texts of the girl I’m fucking now?” he said, trying to sound nonchalant while a smirk began to creep up the corner of his mouth.
“Not if you’re not going to have the decency to answer her back.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Her tone was decisive, almost intimidating. He knew better than to fight her head-on. It always ended with him on his knees anyway, so instead he opted for the only out he could think of. Minho scoffed and downed the last of his drink before turning to top it up.
He walked straight to the kitchen counter and the uncorked bottle, immediately grabbing it to pour himself another drink. He made sure to take a swig straight from the bottle to summon some strength while he was at it. He had been down this road before. Once she stepped foot inside his flat, he would not be able to resist her. He needed the extra liquid courage. Maybe he could drink himself into a blackout before she came too close again.
“Minho…” she said as she leaned against the kitchen door, concern apparent in her tone. Her feign affection prodigious. He could not stand another second of her suffocating questioning.
He turned around to face the sink. Too afraid to say something he would regret, instead opting for another sip of the liquid in his hands.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he felt arms enveloping him, the warmth of her cheek against his back. The force of that nagging familiar feeling made itself known once again. His chest tightened. His heart rate elevated as the grip on the glass in his hands loosened at the flowery scent of her perfume. She held him tight.
“Is it really that hard to just say it?”
“Say what?” Minho felt his patience wearing thin.
“Fine… I’ll say it then you emotionally constipated dork.”
She let out a hushed sigh, hands freeing Minho of her hold. He turned to look at her, something akin to childish bitterness lacing his features. His eyes softened upon meeting her gaze. She took his hands in hers, rubbing slow, calming circles onto his skin as she spoke.
“Minho… It’s okay for you to love me.”
Time stopped. Minho could have sworn he was hallucinating.
“What?”
“It’s okay for you to love me. You really think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m saying I love you too, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize it yourself.”
“I don-”
She put her finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up before his brain could even register the motion. Minho snapped. Unadulterated lust overpowering his senses as he let himself feel the depth of his emotions for the first time in years. He tightly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body flush to his. He wanted her. Needed her. Wanted to make up for the time they had lost while not talking.
His lips crashed onto hers, his hand sliding its way up the back of her head grabbing the roots of her hair. He forced her head back, deepening the kiss, while the other hand kept the tight grip around her waist. Using the weight of his body, he pushed her to the bedroom. Not once letting her break the kiss.
He pressed a hand to her chest, pushing her onto the bed, his body followed closely behind hers. A surprised gasp left her lips as he trapped her with his frame. He scanned the features of her face, looking for any potential sign of hesitancy. She reached her hand up to his face, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.
“I want this, Minho. I want you.”
She held his face in her hands as she spoke, pulling him into a reassuring kiss. His hand traveled down her body, her skin left burning in the wake of his touch. She pressed herself up against him as he grabbed the back of her thigh, wrapping her leg around him. He needed her closer. Wanted for them to melt into each other so that nothing would ever separate them again. His hand slid up her back. She arched into him as he unbuckled her bra with the flick of his fingers.
He pressed his thigh against her. Her core throbbing at the friction he created. His lips teased her neck, gently kissing his way down to her chest. He stiffened her nipple with his wet tongue, drawing circles around it. He teasingly bit it as he let his hand fall between them.
Her hands intertwined with his hair as Minho palmed her, adding that delicious pressure to her clit once more before helping her out of her jeans. Using his digits, he teased her wet folds, gently prodding her entrance.
“M-Minho…” she moaned, as her temperature rose.
He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. Those big, pleading eyes that drove him absolutely fucking insane with desire. He knew what she wanted of him, what she needed. But it didn't matter. He wanted her to say it, wanted her to beg for it. After all, she always was the prettiest when she whined for more.
“Come on, use your big girl words. Tell me what you need, gorgeous.”
“I w-want you inside.” she confessed, cheeks flushing at his careful devotion.
“Oh? Lost our manners, have we?”
His voice dropped a couple of notes, the mocking in his tone apparent as he spoke.
“I'm sorry. P-please, make me feel good. I want you to t-tease my g-spot with your fingers.”
Each carefully planned roll of his digits through her folds made her shiver. Her need to feel him inside her, growing with each stroke. She could feel her body burning.
“Good girl.” he said with that familiar smirk plastered on his face, a subtle scoff escaping as he spoke.
He kissed her passionately while letting his fingers penetrate her wet heat. He let out a moan as her velvety walls contracted around him. He found her sweet spot almost instantly. He knew her body well after all.
“F-fuck!” she gasped breathlessly as he began to put pressure on the velvety spot inside her. The long, aggravatingly slow strokes to her sensitive area, clouding her mind.
She rocked her hips to his rhythm, chasing her high. He propped himself up on his elbow, leaving her lips with the feeling of emptiness.
“How much?” he asked.
Presumably a somewhat weird question, had it not been asked between the two of them. She knew exactly what he meant. He was gauging her tolerance, seeing how far he could push without breaking her. She loved that about him. The way he made sure to communicate with her, check in on her even during the most sinful of moments.
“Easy.”
He gave a slight nod as he removed himself from her, leaving her soaked core feeling empty and needy. He slid down to her middle, carefully placing his head between her voluptuous thighs. He blew gently on her exposed clit, sending shivers down her spine.
“You tease me too much, babe.” she said, her voice breathless and shaky.
“Don't act like you don't love it. You know just as well as I do my pretty slut absolutely loves getting her pretty little clit teased.”
She moaned. His words, the mixture of degradation and praise, made her clench around nothing. He closed his lips around her sensitive knob. Her hands gripped at the roots of his hair as he swirled his tongue against her. She felt that familiar knot forming in her stomach, threatening to become undone for him at any moment.
Her muscles tightened as he picked up his speed, soft kitten licks pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He put his arms around her waist, holding her firmly in place, preventing her from escaping the pleasure.
“F-fuck, Minho! I'm gonna-”
“No, you're not.”
He sat back up, watching as her high slowly faded.
“W-why?” She stammered, frustrated; her legs still left trembling with excitement.
“Manners, remember?”
She whined. The torment, a delicious mix of sweet and sour.
“You're so fucking mean.”
He helped her to her hands and knees, a satisfied smirk mantled to his lips as he let a firm hand push her head into the fluffy pillow. She arched her back for him, giving him full access to her once more.
“I know, gorgeous. I’m sorry.” he said, tone cold and condescending as he pushed his length inside her.
He set a steady pace, his hand sneaking down to rub teasing circles onto her clit, his length hitting that blissful spot inside her. He pulled her up, body pressed flush against him, his hand grabbing her neck. He squeezed her throat firmly, adding just enough pressure to release that lofty sensation that made her legs weak. His hips picked up speed as he let his teeth sink into the nape of her neck, his own orgasm looming.
“Min-Minho, I'm c-close.” she managed, between heavy breaths.
“Not yet. I want to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.”
He turned her around to lay down on her back. Guiding her legs onto his shoulders, he snapped his hips repeatedly, the new angle allowing him deeper inside her. His silver strands damp and messy above her, his muscles tightening with each thrust.
“Holy fuck-”
“Look at me gorgeous.” he said, voice sharp.
She struggled to hold his gaze. The waves of pleasure his devotion sent clouded her mind, making it barely possible for her to speak.
“P-please. Can I cum?” she said, her eyes tearfully pleading with him.
Her begging almost made him cum on the spot. He could feel his dick throb at the sounds of her pleas, unable to hold himself back any further.
“Fuck! Cum for me, gorgeous.”
He didn't have to tell her twice. Her core tightened. Pure ecstasy coursed through every one of her nerve endings, as her nails dug into his biceps in an effort to keep herself grounded.
Minho’s own orgasm hit him harder than the pavement after five whiskey sours. He worked them through their highs, pumping himself into her, milking himself of every last drop.
She sighed, seemingly satisfied as his body fell, exhausted to lay on top of her. She soothingly dragged her nails over the skin on his arms and back as he rested his face in the crook of her neck. He breathed in her scent as they laid in the post orgasmic bliss for what seemed to be an eternity.
“I missed you.” she finally spoke.
His eyes snapped open. He could feel the embarrassment hitting him as the memory of his avoidance hit him. Not that he'd ever admit as much. He squeezed her tight before getting up.
“Why don't you take a shower while I make some food.”
He grabbed the new set of clothes he had put out earlier before stepping outside to make his way to the kitchen, making sure to kiss her cheek on his way out. She giggled as she followed him with her eyes.
“He’s such a fucking tsundere.” she thought to herself, amused.
***
He felt his t-shirt dampen from her freshly washed hair as she embraced him from behind. The scent of his body wash on her, providing a satisfactory feeling in his chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen as he stirred the eggs in the pan in front of him. He put his hand on hers, stroking her thumb lovingly with his own.
“You want to stay the night?” he asked, tone soft.
“I could stay for life.”
He turned around to look at her, ears red, heart pounding in his chest. She looked at him, her bright smile almost as pretty as her eyes. Minho felt the warmth from his ears spread to his cheeks. Before she could notice, he turned his attention back to the stove, making himself look busy by over-stirring the eggs.
“Stupid goddess…” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
She giggled before she threw her arms around him again.
“You love me~” she teased.
“Yeah… I do.”
***
Thank you so much for reading my fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it by reblogging and liking my post.
series summary: you and chan get matched up on a forum for people who suffer with insomnia and spent most of your sleepless nights texting each other. neither of you expected to fall in love..
pairing: bang chan x reader
tags: smau, written part, fluff
a/n: aaaaahhhh finally a new chapter! So sorry for the wait my darlings, I hope you enjoy this fluff <3
It's surprisingly easy to get to Chris’ hotel room unseen. There's a car with tinted windows waiting in the underground parking garage and because of Chris’ fame you're allowed to park at the back of the hotel and use the staff entrance.
Chris holds your hand the entire ride and it's just as easy to talk to him as it was on facetime or through texts. He immediately made you feel comfortable and safe.
'I still can't believe you're really here,' Chris murmurs when the doors of the elevator close behind you.
You smile up at him and squeeze his hand, your fingers still interlaced with his. 'I'm here, it's real.'
'You sure? I could be dreaming,' Chris says, pulling you closer.
'How many fingers do I have?' you ask, holding up your free hand.
Chris raises his eyebrows in amusement and chuckles. 'Five, why?'
'They say that in dreams your hand rarely looks normal. Sometimes you have more fingers, sometimes less or it just looks weird,' you explain with a grin.
Chris blinks and then laughs again, bringing up your interlaced fingers to check your other hand. 'Hmm looks normal to me.'
'See, not dreaming,' you smile. 'I can pinch you again if you want?'
'You just want an excuse to touch my muscles.' Chris teases when you move your hand free hand over his arm.
'Can you blame me?' you flutter your eyelashes at him.
Chris lets out a giggle and butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sound. You love his laugh so much.
‘I guess not, I can’t seem to stop touching you either,’ Chris admits and his ears turn a little red. ‘You’ll tell me if I make you uncomfortable, right?’
‘You won’t,’ you shake your head at him and step even closer into him. Your chests are now touching and you tilt your head back to look into his eyes. ‘You wouldn’t be able to.’
‘How do you know?’ Chris whispers.
You shrug and smile up at him as your free hand grabs onto his so you’re now holding both of his hands. ‘I just do and I trust my instincts when it comes to you.’
‘You’re too trusting,’ Chirs says, but his eyes sparkle. ‘You just flew I don’t know how many miles to meet a guy you met online.’
You roll your eyes at him. ‘We facetimed nearly every day for the last few weeks, I think I knew I was safe.’
‘Mhm, you’re lucky I’m famous or I could still be a serial killer or something,’ Chris teases.
The elevator dings then and the doors open on Chris’ floor. He drops a kiss on the top of your head and leads you into the dimly lit hallway. You suddenly feel a little nervous about being completely alone with him. What did he expect from you tonight? You’ve flirted and teased about what you would do with him if he were with you, but you’ve never talked about what you would actually do when the time was there.
Chris stops at door number 88 and swipes his card against the door handle. It opens with a beep and he motions for you to go in first.
‘Don’t mind the mess, I didn’t know you were coming,’ he says as you step inside.
Your eyes roam the room and you huff in amusement. The room looks spotless. There are two pairs of shoes neatly placed together next to the door, the bed is made, there are no lingering clothes or towels. No open suitcase, no empty food containers, nothing. The only thing that can be considered a ‘mess’ is the open notebook on the table and maybe his chargers that are on the bedside table.
‘You call this a mess? Please help me god if you ever visit my place,’ you laugh.
Chris sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. ‘I might be a bit of a neat freak sometimes. I like my stuff organized.’
You chuckle and poke his stomach. ‘I can tell.’
‘Do you want something to drink?’ Chris asks as he toes off his shoes.
You follow his example and shrug off your jacket as well. ‘Sure. Where can I put my jacket?’
‘There are hangers in the closet by the door,’ Chris replies.
You giggle when you open the closet door and are greeted with neatly folded clothes. ‘If you ever want to organise my closet, please feel free.’
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ Chan chuckles as he sits down on the bed with two water bottles in his hands. ‘I actually like cleaning.’
You make a face and drop down next to him on the comforters. ‘You do? Like all kinds of cleaning?’
Chan nods and hands you your water. ‘It’s satisfying and it calms me.’
‘You’re so weird.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Who said it was a compliment?’
‘It wasn’t?’ Chris grins.
You grin back and set aside your water. ‘It was, I happen to like weird.’
For a moment the two of you just look at each other. Your eyes take in every little detail of him, details that were never as noticeable on your phone screen, like the little flecks in his eyes. His dimples are even cuter in real life too and his hair looks so incredibly soft, even with the product still in there from the concert.
‘You’re really beautiful,’ you whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek. ‘I meant what I said when I saw you earlier.’
‘You’re one to talk.’ Chris smiles, catching your hand in his. ‘You were already the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen, but my phone screen definitely still deceived me cause you’re even prettier in person.’
Your cheeks heat at his compliment and you make a face. ‘We’re so..-’ you fall silent as you search for the right word.
‘Honest,’ Chan grins. ‘I am at least.’
‘Hey! I am too!’ you gently slap his chest. ‘I have a million Stays to back me up on my words.’
‘Your words are all that matter to me.’
‘Awwww,’ you coo. ‘You’re cute.’
‘No, you are.’
‘See, we’re doing it again,’ you laugh. ‘I want to say we’re corny, but maybe cheesy is better. I feel like I walked right into a fanfic.’
Chris his eyes sparkle and he grins again. ‘What kind of fanfic?’
You groan and close your eyes. ‘Nooooo not this again.’
‘You brought it up,’ Chris chuckles.
‘Just forget I said it,’ you beg him with a little pout. ‘I’ll do anything to not talk about this’
‘Anything huh?’ Chris his eyes drop to your lips and your heart skips a beat.
‘Anything,’ you repeat, licking your lips in anticipation.
Without warning Chris pounces forward, but instead of kissing you like you thought he would, his fingers find your abdomen and he starts to tickle you. A surprised squeak leaves your mouth and you try to scramble away from him.
‘Chris!’
‘Y/N!’ he says back, not stopping his attack.
You fall back on the mattress and kick your legs to try and get him away from you while laughter bubbles out of you. You’ve always been ticklish and while Chris had asked about it before over text, you never answered him and always changed to topic.
Laughter escapes you as you squirm and hit him against his chest. ‘Stooooopp, I can’t breathe,’ you beg, giggling.
Chris his fingers slow, but he keeps them against your stomach as he grins cheekily at you. ‘I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know you were ticklish.’
‘Well now you do, so please stop,’ you pant, reaching up a hand to wipe away the tears that escaped your eyes. ‘I did not expect you to do that.’
‘What did you expect me to do?’ Chris asked, leaning closer to you. His hair falls over his forehead and before you know what you’re doing you're brushing it to the side with your fingers. Chris his breath hitches in his throat. ‘Well?’
‘I thought you would kiss me,’ you whisper.
‘Kiss you,’ Chris repeats, leaning closer. ‘Is that so?’
‘Mhm,’ you nod.
‘And that’s something you want?’ he asks, his warm breath tickles against your skin with how close he is now.
You nod again and your entire body heats up when he shifts on the mattress to pull your body against his, leaving almost no space between you.
‘Please,’ you whisper.
‘With pleasure,’ Chris says and then he kisses you.
Finally.
a/n: FINALLY!!!!! We have waited for this moment for ehh 20 chapters lol. I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 Next chapter will probaby be texts again, but not to worry, there will be more written stuff for their next meeting (and yes that one will have more kissing and maaaaybe even smut) Let me know if you'd rather have more written chapters during this meeting tho and I'll see what I can do ;) xoxox
series summary: you and chan get matched up on a forum for people who suffer with insomnia and spent most of your sleepless nights texting each other. neither of you expected to fall in love..
pairing: bang chan x reader
tags: smau, written part, fluff
'You ready?' Ava asks you, her hand already on the handle of the door.
'Ready,' you and Chris say simultaneously.
You can hear Chris his breathing quicken in your ear as Ava pushes the door open, and your own heartbeat fastens in your chest.
Your best friend steps through the door first and and with your phone still pressed against your ear, you enter behind her.
The first thing you see is a white couch filled with different clothing items, empty cups and wrappers and a lost shoe.
'Y/N,' Chris his familiar voice breathes out in your ear as well as to your right.
You move your head and there he is. Standing in front of two other guys, his phone to his ear and a bright smile on his handsome face.
He's dressed in a tight white shirt that shows off his muscled chest and arms, and grey joggers that hang low on his hips.
Fuck. He looks incredible.
'How are you even real,' you blurt out with a small whine.
Ava bursts out in laughter next to you and so do the two guys that are standing behind Chris, but you have no eyes for them. All you see is Chris.
'I could say the same thing to you,' Chris smiles, taking a step forward as his eyes take you in. 'I can't believe you're here.'
You smile back at him and drop your phone from your ear, blindly putting it in your back pocket.
'Me neither.'
'What are you waiting for? Go to him,' Ava whispers, nudging your back.
You stumble forward and break eye contact with Chris to glare at your best friend. Ava just shrugs her shoulders and grins at you before skipping around you to say hello to the other in the room.
You briefly let your eyes scan over the other guys, recognizing Changbin and Felix, before looking back at Chris. Your legs feel like jelly when you step forward again and your hands tremble.
Chris covers the distance between you and the moment he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you against his strong chest, nothing else matters.
You circle your arms around his waist and press your face against his chest, breathing in his scent and enjoying the feel of him against your body. He feels safe.
‘You're trembling,’ Chris whispers against your hair as his hands move up and down your back.
‘It's the lack of caffeine,’ you murmur against his shirt.
Chris laughs and his chest vibrates under your cheek. ‘I'm sure that's it.’
You're about to reply when the door bangs open and chaos erupts. Multiple people enter the room, there's a loud screech, running footsteps and then there's another body pressed against your back.
‘Y/N-ah!! You're here!!’ a voice yells in your ear.
You stiffen and tighten your arms around Chris. You're usually okay with physical touch and cuddles, but right now you're feeling overwhelmed, tired and strangely emotional.
‘Hyunjin, get off her,’ someone else says at the same time as Chris growls something in Korean.
The warmth at your back disappears almost immediately.
‘Oops, I’m sorry Y/N.’
‘It’s okay,’ you automatically reply, but you don't move from your place in Chris' arms.
‘Don’t mind her,’ Ava says. ‘She always gets a bit grumpy when she's tired, and she barely slept in the last twenty-four hours.’
You blindly flip her off and more laughter fills your ears.
‘Where are you guys staying?’ someone asks while Chris keeps rubbing your back.
He seems just as content as you are to just stay like this, wrapped up in each other's arms. It feels right. Familiar somehow, like this wasn’t the first time you've met.
‘Same hotel as you, I think,’ Ava replies. ‘Jeongin set it up for us.’
‘It's the same hotel,’ another voice confirms, Jeongin probably. ‘Hey Hyung! Stop hogging your girl and let us say hello.’
‘Noooooo,’ you whine when Chris seems to move. ‘I'm comfy.’
Chris chuckles and presses what seems like a kiss to your head. Your whole body feels warm by the gesture and it only makes you want to bury further into his arms.
‘Y/N, where are your manners?’ Ava scolds, but you can hear she's smiling.
‘What manners?’ You reply, slowly lifting your head from Chris' chest. ‘What are manners?’
Ava rolls her eyes when you meet her gaze and Changbin, who's standing awfully close next to her, grins at you.
‘Alright, alright,’ you groan. ‘I'm sorry.’
Chris keeps his hand on your back as you straighten and turn to look at everyone else.
‘Hello, I'm Y/N,’ you wave, smiling. ‘It's nice to meet you all and I apologize for worrying your guy Chris here. I hope he didn't drive you too crazy.’
Hyunjin groans, Jeongin snorts and Felix laughs.
‘Oh he drove us crazy, alright.’ Jisung grins.
‘He was a mess,’ Minho adds.
‘We're glad you’re here now,’ Seungmin smiles.
You look up at Chris and poke his cheek when you catch him glaring at his friends.
‘Aaawwwww,’ you coo at him.
Chris turns his glare at you, but all it does is widen your grin and make your stomach fill with butterflies. His eyes soften and he playfully tries to bite your finger that's still poking his face.
‘I can't help it,’ he pouts at you.
‘Ughhh get a room,’ Jisung groans from his spot on the couch. ‘The way you look at each other is-’
‘Adorable,’ Jeongin interrupts him.
‘So cute,’ Felix nods.
‘Sickening,’ Minho grins.
Chris rolls his eyes at his friends and looks down at you with his beautiful brown eyes.
‘Wanna get out of here?’
Jisung and Hyunjin giggle, and you can't help but join them.
‘I'd love to.’
a/n: your comments mean the world to me, thank you so much ya'll for the love and excitement. I appreciate you SO much!! <3
THEY FINALLY MET!!!!!
next chapter will be our favorite couple spending some alone time together (noooooo you pervs there won't be smut, YET hahaha)
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