gabs 🤍

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 '𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒎 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔

[idkbutimgabby]

hi!!! i'm gabby, welcome 🤍

about me:

🌼 i'm 20 years old

🌼 she/her

🌼 i'm a [very] casual writer i write a lil smthsmth occasionally

🌼 my ult bias is binnie but I love all of skz very very dearly

🌼 my current favorite artists are beabadoobee, chase atlantic, and skz

🌼 i am 🧡🤍🩷 so if you don't mess with that uhm idk what to tell you! (get out)

here is what i have currently!

𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 masterlist 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡

thank you for reading i love you all! 🤍

[periodicallypurple]

Thought this might help others who struggle when writing. I know I get in my head too much.

[tasteracha]

a/n: i was gonna write something cute about chan helping y/n move because i am moving and i wish i had Big Strong Man to help me but this turned into a whole lot of pussy eating and not a lot of packing and moving. warnings: y/n has a pussy, weird caveman jokes, oral sex, MDNI. 1k. pt ii.

“we ran out of tape!” you hear a call from the kitchen, muffled by the cardboard your head is currently surrounded by. you’re halfway inside a box, patting down newspaper so you can create a cushion for your carefully curated collection of mugs to sit on so they don’t break in transport.

“the fuck we did,” you grumble, annoyance and a flash of panic rising up as you dust your hands off and make your way over to chan. “we just bought some yesterday, don’t tell me we forgot it in the cart-“

you cut yourself off when you see chan holding a full roll of packing tape on one finger, a teasing smile on his face.

“kidding,” he laughs, setting the tape down to walk towards you. “got ya.”

“you just had to mess with me while i was working,” you roll your eyes but accept when he turns you around to lean you against the empty kitchen counter. “did you accomplish your goal of being one annoyance closer to me murdering you and taking the insurance money to hire movers?”

“no, but i did accomplish my goal of getting your attention,” he leans into your space, pressing you up further into the countertop. “you’re working too hard, baby. take a break.”

“i just need to get one more box done, then-“ the rest of your sentence is muffled by the palm of his hand and you make angry eye contact with him above his wrist. it’s the only thing you can do to retaliate, since he doesn’t get grossed out if you lick his hand and gets weirdly turned on if you bite it.

“box later,” he insists, pulling his hand away to tame a stray lock of your hair down against our head. “lunch now. hungry.”

“and he’s reduced to caveman speech,” you give in easily when you feel the weariness of your muscles sink in. it is easy to ignore when you are busy, but with the languid comfort that comes with his weight pressed against yours it draws your attention.

“would a caveman do this?” he leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to yours in a slow, gentle kiss, letting his breath out into a sigh against your mouth. he squeezes his hands against your hips and lifts, and your center of gravity shifts as you’re placed on top of the counter.

“that’s exactly what a caveman would do, i think,” you say, breaking the kiss to thunk your head against the cabinet behind you. you can see his brain working to produce a witty comeback by the way his eyes narrow, but he must lose the fight with his own intelligence because he sinks to his knees a moment later without a word.

“i think cavemen like snacks,” he leans his head against your thigh and plays with the waistband of your shorts with his hands, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. “does my food consent to a little pre-lunch sample?”

“as long as we can let this metaphor go, you can do whatever you want,” you feign nonchalance but your heartbeat is picking up, crescendoing into a racing pace when he manages to wiggle your shorts and underwear off of you.

you would go into the semantics of your bare ass on the kitchen counter being unhygienic, but you’re moving out tomorrow and soon that’ll be someone else’s problem. hopefully the new tenant bleaches everything.

he noses at your folds, unhurried and curious like he’s discovering something for the first time. when his tongue darts out to taste you, you’re almost embarrassed by the whine that leaves your throat without permission. really, you shouldn’t be so effected by such a simple touch, but you both have been too busy with packing the last few weeks to do anything other than unsatisfying quickies in the shower and it’s left you restless.

your breath hitches when he grabs your thighs and pushes your legs further apart. his next lick is harder, more of his tongue reaching out to draw a broad stroke between your hole and your clit. your hips jerk when his teeth graze against your skin and a small gush of slick escapes as you clench around nothing.

“the snack talks back,” he smirks, using two of his fingers to spread the wetness around. he teases at your entrance, and chokes on a gasp when your hands fly to his hair to press his face against your core.

“oh my god, shut up,” you loosen your grip when he gets the message and starts sucking at your clit, meaningfully this time instead of whatever he was doing before while thinking of some weird prehistoric era joke. he dips his fingers into you, crooking his fingers and making shallow thrusts that light up your nerve endings. fuck, this will be over too soon with the way you’re reacting.

you let go of his hair to cover your mouth as you start panting along with the pulsing in your pussy, and he whines into you pitifully. you’re not sure if it’s because he wants you to pull on his hair or because he wants to hear you, but he relaxes when your hand fists back into his curls.

“fuuuuuck, baby,” your hips are moving in minute jerks and you can feel the familiar burning heat spread through your core as your orgasm builds. you twitch one last time as it finally snaps, and your walls pulse desperately around his fingers as he eats you through it. your legs close around his ears as you come, your vision blacking out for a moment in response to his enthusiastic licking and sucking.

you relax your legs and push him away once the pleasure sparks into overstimulation, electricity crackling against a fine line between good and too much. he stays for a few seconds longer, stubborn in his desire to clean you up and hear you whimper, before falling back into his heels.

his face is glistening with your slick, his lips are red and swollen and he looks so satisfied with himself that you’re abruptly annoyed again.

“don’t say it,” you warn, the fear you wanted to instill dulled by the lethargy in your voice. “whatever stupid joke you’re going to say, keep it in your head.”

“i wasn’t going to say anything,” he protests, the mirth in his eyes revealing that he was, in fact, going to say something. “wait, but i’m actually hungry. let’s order takeout?”

pt ii.

[nicole-c-ish]

Caveman speak 😭

[tasteracha]

something about him screams turning into one syllable speech when he’s horny

[binniebb]

── deep end ☼︎ bang chan

[ ▸ ] — at marigold hills, summer mvp is supposed to reward professionalism, teamwork, and excellent guest service. unfortunately, your biggest competition is christopher bang, a cocky lifeguard with a lollipop habit, a shirtless ego, and half the country club wrapped around his whistle. you want the parking spot for next summer, the bragging rights, and the satisfaction of humbling him, but after one locker room argument, winning starts to look a lot less important.

[ ☰ ] — event masterlist

[ ✐ ] — 8k

[ ⌗ ] — lifeguard!chris x lifeguard!reader enemies to lovers kind of crack fic? cocky!chris graphic & detailed smut anal play oral ( m receiving )

[ ✉︎ ] — ayyyyy! and so it begins. welcome to a wet hot skz summer, babes! so excited to kick this off finally. like joy mentioned, this has been in the making for three months, so we were bursting at the seams to finally drop this for you guys! heavily inspired by billy in stranger things ( dacre you have my heart <3 ) but i also just wanted to picture chris shirtless more than he already is teehee. please listen to connected from skz-replay before, during, and after. this is his theme song here lol as always, hunnies, if you do enjoy please drop a like, comment, or reblog. always appreciate feedback and just genuinely love to see your guys' thoughts <3

By the end of June, the Marigold Hills Country Club Aquatics Center had stopped feeling like a summer job and started feeling like a sun-baked gladiator arena where the weapons were whistles, sunscreen bottles, customer-service smiles, and the rare but devastating guest compliment delivered directly in front of your manager’s clipboard.

The clipboard mattered.

You weren’t the kind of person who needed external validation from a man named Craig who wore khaki shorts with a braided belt and treated the aquatics staff like you were all one bad Yelp review away from public execution, but somewhere between Memorial Day weekend and the fourth consecutive shift of Christopher Bang smirking at you over the rim of his stupid mirrored sunglasses, Summer MVP had become less of a workplace incentive and more of a blood oath.

The prize wasn’t even that good.

A reserved parking spot near the front entrance for next summer, a fifty-dollar gift card to the club restaurant, and a laminated certificate Craig would probably hand over with a toothy grin.

It should not have mattered.

It absolutely mattered.

Because Chris had made it matter.

At the beginning of the summer, during the first staff meeting of the season, when Craig stood in front of the lifeguard office explaining “member experience standards” while everyone sweat through their uniforms, Chris had leaned against the lockers beside you with a blue raspberry lollipop tucked into one cheek, his sunglasses pushed up into his black hair, and the kind of easy, irritating smile that made you want to throw a rescue tube at his head.

“You hear that?” he’d murmured. “Reserved parking.”

You had not looked at him. “Congratulations. You discovered incentives.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, voice low and amused, “don’t worry when I win. I’ll wave at you from the good spot.”

You had turned then, slowly, because some moments demanded eye contact before violence.

Chris looked back at you with his lashes lowered, his mouth glossy from the candy, his shoulders already broad and sun-warm under the red guard tank he had somehow made look indecent by existing inside it.

You smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“And here’s my wave,” you said, giving him the finger.

His grin spread.

And just like that, because men were a plague and pride was a disease you had apparently caught through chlorine exposure, your entire summer turned into a competition.

It was ridiculous and humiliating, but it was also the only thing keeping you from losing your mind while working eight-hour shifts among screaming children, over-served parents, and rich people who believed the phrase “country club standard” could summon fresh towels out of thin air.

Marigold Hills itself was beautiful in the overfunded, morally suspicious way country clubs tended to be beautiful—all white cabanas, blue umbrellas, polished stone, glassy pools, and flowers kept alive by people whose hourly wage could not afford the salad menu. The aquatics area sprawled across the back of the property like a luxury resort had gotten drunk and reproduced. It had a main pool, lap lanes, a lazy river, a splash pad, two hot tubs, a diving board, a shallow family area, and enough lounge chairs to support every affair, divorce, and passive-aggressive brunch conversation in the county.

Which meant there were a lot of lifeguards.

There had to be.

On busy weekends, your red-uniformed little army spread across the pool deck in rotations, scanning water, blowing whistles, bandaging scraped knees, dragging umbrellas across the concrete, fishing abandoned goggles from filters, and pretending not to hear club members say things that should have gotten them banned from polite society and possibly pepper-sprayed in the parking lot.

You had worked there with Chris since high school, back when both of you were sixteen and new enough to the job that a screaming toddler could send your adrenaline into orbit. Through senior year, through college summers, through certification renewals and first-aid refreshers, through the annual chaos of Memorial Day opening weekend, you and Chris had returned to Marigold Hills like cursed migratory birds in matching red.

Somewhere along the way, Chris had gone from cute in an annoying, dimply, boy-next-door kind of way to offensively hot.

He was cocky about it too, which made the whole thing worse.

He walked the pool deck shirtless whenever he could get away with it, sunscreen gleaming on his shoulders, rescue tube tucked under one arm, whistle resting against his chest, black hair damp and curling over his forehead in thick, messy pieces whenever he got out of the water. He wore his sunglasses like a man auditioning for a calendar called May Cause Divorces, and he always had a lollipop in his mouth, because apparently being broad, tan, Australian, and annoyingly good with children wasn’t already enough of a public nuisance.

The mothers loved him. That was not an exaggeration.

The mothers stared at him in a way that made their husbands stare angrily into their gin and tonics, because no amount of money, golf memberships, or boat shoes could compete with Christopher Bang crouching beside the kiddie pool to help a toddler fix her floaties while saying, “There you go, sweetheart, now you’re ready,” in a voice warm enough to fog sunglasses.

You watched it happen every shift.

You watched Mrs. Delaney touch his forearm while thanking him for finding her son’s goggles.

You watched Mrs. Cavanaugh ask whether he worked “every weekend” with faux casual interest. You watched a woman named Bianca, who wore a diamond ring large enough to count as a flotation device, drop her towel three separate times in front of him.

Chris picked it up every time.

He also winked every time.

And Craig wrote something down every fucking time.

“He’s such a whore,” muttered Alex from the adjacent lifeguard chair one afternoon, peering through his sunglasses as Chris handed a pool noodle to a little boy and somehow got thanked by the child’s mother with a smoothie.

“He’s not even subtle,” you said, watching Chris accept the smoothie with a smile so bright you hoped his teeth overheated.

Alex tilted his head. “Do you think Craig gives points for slut energy?”

“Craig gives points for whatever makes the members happy.”

“Then Chris is Summer MVP of the century. Half these women look like they’d renew their membership for another glimpse of his abs.”

“Don’t say abs.”

“Why?”

“Because then I think about them.”

Alex turned to look at you slowly.

You kept scanning the pool.

“Interesting,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up, Alex.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was about to say you’re handling this competition with a lot of maturity.”

“You were not.”

“No, I was about to call you a whore.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Unfortunately, your own tactics were not exactly noble.

Chris had mothers. You had men with wedding rings and the audacity of medieval kings.

It had started accidentally, sort of, when Mr. Ralston asked whether you could help him find the locker rooms despite the sign being directly above his head, and Craig, standing nearby with his clipboard, had written something down after you smiled, guided him politely, and did not tell him that literacy was free. The next day, Mr. Halverson asked for sunscreen recommendations and complimented your “attention to detail” when you explained SPF like he was not staring at your boobs through the entire conversation.

Craig had written that down too.

From there, the moral slope got slippery.

You carried lemonade pitchers for older men who called you “darling” in ways that made your spine try to leave your body. You helped Mr. Leighton find his missing sunglasses, which were on his own head, while his wife sat five feet away pretending not to hear him ask if you gave private swim lessons. You told a father of three that his butterfly stroke looked powerful even though it looked like he was having an actual stroke, because Craig was watching from the towel station and you were not above lying for the parking spot.

“Powerful?” Chris repeated later, appearing beside the first-aid cabinet while you restocked bandages. “That man swam like he was five seconds away from dying.”

You didn’t look up. “He appreciated the encouragement.”

“He appreciated your tits.”

You snapped your head toward him.

Chris’s jaw tightened like the words had come out sharper than he meant them to, but he did not take them back.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a creep,” Chris said.

“He’s also a member.”

“He’s still a fucking creep.”

“And Mrs. Cavanaugh asking if you do personal swim coaching isn’t creepy?”

Chris opened his mouth.

You lifted a brow.

“That’s different,” he said finally.

“Oh, I cannot wait to hear this.”

“I didn’t flirt with her.”

“You winked.”

“She winked first.”

“You smiled like you were picturing her naked already.”

Chris laughed despite himself, and the sound annoyed you because it was too warm for the amount of irritation you were trying to preserve.

“You jealous?”

“Of middle-aged women who smell like Chanel and marital dissatisfaction? No.”

“Then why are you watching?”

“Because you’re loud.”

“I was standing completely still.”

“You’re loud standing completely still.”

His grin returned, slow and poisonous. “You spend a lot of time noticing me.”

You slammed the first-aid cabinet shut. Chris stepped back just enough to avoid losing a finger, still smirking.

“You spend a lot of time being noticeable,” you snapped.

“Good.”

“Bad.”

“Liar.”

You hated him. Or, more accurately, you hated the way he made hating him feel like a contact sport.

Because the worst part was not that Chris was hot, although that was irritating enough to require some sort of training. The worst part was that he was actually good at the job. When he was scanning the pool, nothing slipped past him. When a kid panicked in the deep end, Chris was in the water before anyone else had finished inhaling. When a toddler busted her chin on the splash pad, he had her laughing through tears within thirty seconds. When elderly members needed help adjusting umbrellas or carrying bags, he treated them with a patience that looked irritatingly real, not just performative for Craig.

It would have been easier if he sucked. Instead, he was competent. Competence, tragically, was hot.

By the third week of July, the other lifeguards had started treating your competition with Chris like a staff-wide entertainment program.

Mia kept score on a napkin taped inside the guard office.

Felix, who worked mostly swim lessons, had created categories with little hearts and skulls beside them.

“Guest compliments,” he said one morning, clicking a pen as you and Chris stood on opposite sides of the break table glaring at each other over a container of grapes. “You have twelve. Chris has thirteen.”

“Bullshit,” you said.

“Mrs. Redding complimented me twice yesterday,” Chris said.

“Mrs. Redding wants to climb you like pool furniture. That doesn’t count.”

“It does if she says I’m attentive.”

“She said your shorts looked snug.”

Alex, lounging on the bench, choked on his iced coffee.

Chris laughs annoyingly. “My shorts work hard keeping my huge—,”

“Stop right there, slut.”

Felix pointed his pen at you. “Sassy points for you.”

Mia leaned in from the doorway. “Does that count as harassment?”

“Only if a complaint is filed. But I kinda liked it,” Chris said, grinning around his lollipop. It was cherry that day, red and glossy and deeply obnoxious.

You wanted to snatch it out of his mouth and throw it into the pool filter. You also wanted, very briefly and very shamefully, to taste it. That thought was so unacceptable you threw a grape at him.

He caught it in his mouth and the room erupted.

“Fucking show-off,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Chris chewed, swallowed, and winked.

Craig chose that moment to enter with his clipboard, which meant everyone immediately scattered into suspicious productivity.

“Good energy today,” Craig said, squinting at the room.

“Team morale,” Felix said brightly.

“More like ‘more hell’,” Mia muttered.

Craig ignored her. “Big Saturday crowd tomorrow. I expect focus, professionalism, and strong member engagement. Summer MVP is still anyone’s game.”

Chris looked at you. You looked at Chris.

Saturday arrived with the kind of brutal, glittering heat that turned the entire pool deck into a griddle and made every guest behave as though sunscreen, patience, and basic manners had evaporated by noon.

Children ran, screamed, cried, cannonballed, stole each other’s diving rings, and treated “walk, please” like a foreign concept. Parents drank frozen margaritas under umbrellas and pretended they did not see their offspring attempting minor crimes near the shallow end. The lazy river jammed twice because one child refused to exit his tube and another had somehow smuggled in a pool noodle suspiciously shaped like a dick. Someone dropped nachos near the splash pad. Someone else lost a retainer in the lap lanes.

It was chaos with cabana service.

You were stationed near the family pool, scanning through the glare, when you spotted Mr. Halverson near the bar with his phone in one hand and confusion wrinkling his sunburned face.

Perfect.

Mr. Halverson was gross, yes, in the damp, overly familiar way of men who treated wedding vows like background noise, but he was also influential, wealthy, and exactly the kind of member who would corner Craig near the office to compliment “excellent staff responsiveness” if you solved a minor inconvenience while smiling through your suffering.

You climbed down from the chair.

Across the pool, Chris noticed immediately.

He was crouched beside a little boy with a scraped knee, one hand pressing an ice pack gently to the child’s shin while the kid’s mother hovered nearby, gazing at Chris and his stupidly sculpted back. Chris’s eyes slid past her shoulder and locked onto you as you headed toward Halverson.

His jaw shifted.

You smiled—not at Halverson—at Chris. Then you turned all your polished, poisonous sweetness toward the man by the bar.

“Mr. Halverson,” you said, bright enough to make yourself nauseous. “Everything okay?”

He looked up, relief blooming across his face, eyes scanning your swimsuit-clad body from head to toe. “There you are,” he said, which immediately made you want to walk into the deep end with rocks in your pockets. “This damn app keeps asking for my cabana number.”

You glanced at the brass number mounted directly beside his head. “You’re in cabana twelve.”

He followed your gaze, laughed, and touched your side.

You didn’t flinch. You became marble.

“Guess I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached,” he said.

“Good thing we’re trained for emergencies,” you replied, smiling hard enough that you could hear your teeth grind in disgust.

Behind you, a whistle chirped.

You turned. Chris was already walking over, wet from some recent dip into the pool, black hair pushed back from his forehead before falling forward again in damp pieces, sunglasses hooked into the waistband of his trunks, lollipop tucked into one cheek, and expression pleasant in a way that made you instantly suspicious.

“Everything alright over here?” he asked.

His voice was polite, but his eyes were not.

Mr. Halverson’s hand dropped from your side.

“We’re fine,” you said.

Chris looked at you, then at Halverson, then at the phone. “App trouble?”

“I have it handled.”

“Of course you do,” Chris said, smiling. “You’re very helpful.”

You narrowed your eyes.

Halverson chuckled, delighted by tension he had no business enjoying. “You two always like this?”

“Unfortunately,” you said.

“Only when she misses me,” Chris said.

You snapped your head towards him. He smiled around the lollipop. Somewhere behind him, Craig materialized near the towel station, clipboard lifted like a weapon from hell.

Chris noticed. You knew he noticed because his posture changed by half an inch, straightening into that effortless lifeguard golden-boy stance he used when guests were watching, the one that made him look responsible and fuckable in the same breath, which was frankly very inconsiderate.

“Actually,” Chris said, reaching gently for Halverson’s phone, “I can take care of this. Y/N’s been running around all afternoon, and we don’t want her overheating.”

Oh, that smug, shirtless, candy-sucking bastard.

Your smile froze. “How thoughtful,” you said.

Chris leaned closer as he took the phone, enough that the scent of chlorine, sunscreen, and green apple sugar slipped under your skin with humiliating precision.

“You do look a little flushed,” he murmured.

You kept smiling because Craig was watching, but your voice dropped. “You do look a little killable.”

Chris’s mouth curved. “Cute.”

“I’m not being cute.”

“You are when you threaten me.”

“I hope a pool noodle lodges in your ass.”

Halverson made a strangled noise that might have been a laugh.

Craig’s pen moved.

Chris solved the app issue in less than ten seconds, handed the phone back, and earned a hearty clap on the shoulder from Halverson, who announced, “Thanks, Chris. You’re a lifesaver.”

Chris looked directly at you.

“That’s what the certification says.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said.

“I’m efficient.”

“You’re a parasite.”

“With great member feedback.”

Your manager wrote something down again, and something inside you snapped cleanly in half.

The rest of the shift became war. Not metaphorical war. No, no, no, no. An actual war…if war involved customer service, fake smiles, and two college-age lifeguards competing to see who could be more publicly helpful without getting fired for making it erotic.

Chris helped a crying child locate a missing stuffed turtle named Gregory, then returned it with such gentle sincerity that even you, against your will, felt a tiny flicker of warmth before remembering you hated him.

You carried three lunch trays to a cabana full of women who called you “honey” and asked whether Chris was single.

You told them he had a personality disorder.

One of them laughed and said, “That’s okay. Sometimes you need a little crazy,” with a wink.

Chris heard about it within five minutes because Alex had the loyalty of a politician.

“You told Mrs. Bellamy I have a personality disorder?” Chris asked when your rotations crossed near the diving board.

“You told Mr. Halverson I was overheating.”

“You were.”

“I was plotting.”

“Sure you were.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ask nicer.”

You nearly swallowed your whistle. Chris smiled like he knew exactly what he had done and jogged backward toward the shallow end before you could commit a felony in front of children.

At four, you found Mrs. Redding struggling near the towel shelves, her cane balanced against her hip while she reached for a stack placed just slightly too high.

A gift from God.

You moved instantly. Chris also moved instantly. The two of you converged on the towel station from opposite directions like heat-seeking missiles with lifeguard certifications.

“I’ve got it,” you said, arriving first by half a second.

Chris’s hand reached over yours and grabbed the stack anyway.

“We’ve got it,” he said, handing Mrs. Redding two towels with a smile so bright it could blind.

Mrs. Redding looked between you, eyes bright behind her oversized sunglasses.

“Well,” she said, delighted, “aren’t you both attentive?”

“Yes,” you and Chris both said.

Mrs. Redding laughed, touched both your arms, and wandered away.

Craig watched from near the snack bar, pen not moving.

You and Chris stood in silence. Then Chris said, “Joint credit.”

You looked at him. “That’s worse than losing,” you said.

“I know.”

For one dangerous second, you both laughed.

It startled you more than it should have, the shared burst of it, easy and sharp and familiar in a way that reached backward through years of summers, years of chlorine-soaked shifts and closing duties and training drills. Years of Chris being the person who irritated you most consistently and somehow knew exactly when to hand you water without saying anything about it.

Then he ruined it by biting down on his lollipop and crunching it between his teeth.

You grimaced. “You’re disgusting.”

“You were smiling.”

“I had heatstroke.”

“You’ve been flushed all day.”

“You’ve been staring all day.”

His eyes dipped to your body, then lifted. “Yeah,” he said.

Then a child screamed near the lazy river, and the moment shattered back into chlorine, noise, and professional responsibility.

By closing, you were exhausted enough to feel personally victimized by Christopher Chan Bang.

The last members packed up, the cabanas emptied, the pool lights clicked on beneath the blue surface, and the aquatics center shifted into that strange post-chaos hush where everything smelled stronger: wet concrete, sunscreen, fried food from the snack bar, damp towels, and the faint metallic bite of pool water cooling under evening air.

Craig gathered the staff near the guard office for end-of-day notes.

Everyone looked like shit. Beautiful shit, maybe, because summer staff sometimes looked golden and half-feral after too much sun. But shit nonetheless.

Chris stood beside you, hair still damp, shoulders warm, lollipop gone but mouth no less irritating. Every time his arm brushed yours, your body reacted like he had done it on purpose. Which he probably had.

“Good work today,” Craig said, clipboard tucked against his chest. “Strong member engagement overall. A few preventable issues with towel inventory, but good responsiveness, especially during the lazy river backup.”

Mia muttered, “The dick noodle fucked us.”

Felix coughed.

Craig paused. “Please don’t refer to pool equipment that way.”

Mia shrugged. “It knew what it did.”

Craig wisely moved on. “I also want to recognize both of you,” he said, nodding toward you and Chris, which immediately made every other guard perk up like gossip-starved meerkats. “You’ve shown initiative throughout the month, and today especially, I noticed several examples of guest support, teamwork, and conflict management.”

You whispered, “Conflict management my ass.”

Chris whispered back, “You offering?”

You elbowed Chris hard.

He grunted, then laughed under his breath, and the sound grazed every nerve you had been trying to keep disciplined.

Craig’s eyes narrowed. “Something funny?”

“No,” Chris said.

“Yes,” Mia deadpanned.

Craig sighed. “Summer MVP will be announced next Friday. Until then, keep up the professionalism.”

“Absolutely,” you said.

“Always,” Chris added.

Felix, too softly for Craig but loudly enough for you, murmured, “Lying in the house of chlorine.”

The meeting ended. People scattered toward closing duties and locker rooms, laughing under their breath, dragging rescue tubes, stacking chairs, collecting lost toys. You headed toward the guard office for your bag, fully prepared to rinse off, go home, and spend the night not thinking about Chris’s blunt little “yeah” when you accused him of staring.

Naturally, Chris followed. Because he was a rash in human form. “You okay?” he asked behind you.

You grabbed your bag from the hook. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Do that.”

“Ask a normal question?”

“You don’t ask normal questions.”

“You look pissed.”

“I am pissed.”

“At me?”

You turned sharply. Chris stopped close enough that your bag bumped his thigh. “You cut me off with Halverson,” you said. “You stole towel credit with Mrs. Redding. You spent all day making Craig think you’re Summer MVP Jesus in tight swim trunks, and then you have the nerve to ask if I’m okay like you’re not the problem.”

Chris’s expression shifted, amusement dimming. “Halverson had his hand on you.”

You stared at him. “What?”

“He touched you.”

“So?”

“So he’s a creep.”

“You said that already.”

“Because it’s still true.”

“And that gives you the right to sabotage me?”

“No.” Chris dragged a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back before it fell forward again in those dark, messy pieces that made your irritation feel less structurally sound. “It gives me the right to be pissed.”

You laughed, sharp and disbelieving. “You were pissed?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He looked at you like the answer should have been obvious, which only made you angrier, because if the answer was obvious then your body had known it before you did, and you did not appreciate being betrayed by your own organs.

“Use your words, Christopher.”

His jaw flexed. Around you, the remaining staff noise faded down the hallway, leaving the two of you in the heavy quiet of the nearly empty guard office.

Chris took a step closer. “Because I don’t like watching him touch you.”

Your pulse jumped. “That’s not your business.”

“I know.”

“You don’t get to act jealous.”

“I know.”

“You flirt with half the pool deck.”

“So do you.”

“For points.”

“Bullshit,” he said, and there it was, his own temper finally sparking through the charm. “You do it because you know I’m watching.”

You could have denied it. You should have denied it. Instead, you tilted your chin up and said, “Maybe you shouldn’t make it so easy.”

Chris’s laugh was low, humorless, and a little wrecked.

“Fuck,” he said, looking away for half a second. “You drive me insane.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He looked back at you. Something hot and stupid moved between you, dragging every unfinished argument, every ugly little spark, every glance across the pool deck into one narrow stretch of air.

“You’ve got a hell of a way of saying you like me,” he said.

“I don’t like you.”

“No?”

“No.”

Chris’s gaze dropped to your mouth. “Then tell me to fuck off.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mean it.”

You said nothing.

His smile returned, but it was different now, not bright or performative, not meant for mothers or managers or the cheering section of nosey lifeguards listening from around corners. This smile was smaller, slower, aimed directly at the space where your confidence had begun to smoke. “That’s what I thought,” he said.

You pushed past him before you could do something catastrophic in the guard office.

“Don’t walk away from me while I’m talking to you,” Chris called.

You threw him a look over your shoulder. “You do it all the time.”

“Yeah, and it pisses you off.”

“That’s because everything you do pisses me off.”

“Then don’t follow me.”

You stopped. He had turned toward the men’s locker room.

The bait hung there, obvious and glittering. You knew it was bait. Chris knew you knew it was bait.

Felix, from somewhere near the supply closet, whispered, “Don’t do it.”

You turned your head slowly toward the sound. A cabinet shut very quietly.

You stood in the hallway for two seconds, maybe three, which was enough time to consider your choices and reject wisdom as a concept. Then you followed him.

The men’s locker room was empty, humid, and coolly lit, smelling of cedar benches, chlorine, clean tile, aerosol deodorant, and the lingering chemical ghost of teenage boys who had once believed spraying themselves in a choking cloud of body spray counted as hygiene. Rows of gray lockers lined the walls. Water dripped somewhere in the shower area with a patient, echoing rhythm.

Chris stood at his locker, spinning the combination. He glanced back when the door swung shut behind you, eyebrows lifting. “Pretty sure this is the men’s locker room.”

“Pretty sure you invited me.”

“I said don’t follow me.”

“You said it like an asshole.”

“Because I knew you would.”

You crossed your arms. “You are so fucking smug.”

“And you’re in the men’s locker room giving me shit after hours, so maybe don’t climb too high up that moral ladder.”

“I came in here because you’ve been acting like a territorial dick all day.”

Chris opened his locker with a metallic clank. “I was acting like a dick before today too. Don’t erase my history.”

“You think this is funny?”

“I think if I don’t laugh, I’m going to do something very stupid.”

The honesty of that landed harder than the joke.

You watched him pull a towel from the locker shelf, watched the muscles in his shoulder shift with the movement, watched the damp ends of his hair cling to the back of his neck. He looked too casual for how charged the room had become, too comfortable in the tension, like he had been living inside it all summer and was only now letting you see it fully.

“What stupid thing?” you asked.

Chris turned. His eyes were darker in the locker room light.

“You know what stupid thing.”

Your mouth went dry. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re arrogant.”

“Definitely.”

“You’re still avoiding the point.”

“I’m trying not to make one.”

“You never try not to make points. You’re made of points. Horrible little ones.”

He laughed, real and warm, his head dipping for a second before he looked back at you with something dangerously fond in his expression. “God, you’re mean.”

“You deserve it.”

“Probably.”

“You absolutely do.”

“Then why are you still here?”

The question settled between you.

You could feel the answer in your body, which was unfortunate because your body had terrible politics and no respect for narrative pacing. It had been answering him all day, in every glance, every flare of irritation, every stupid rush of heat when he got too close and smelled like sugar and sun-warmed skin and man.

Chris watched you realize it. Then, with the kind of casual cruelty only a truly confident man could manage, he reached for the waistband of his red swim trunks.

Your eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Changing.”

“In front of me?”

“You’re in the men’s locker room.”

“That does not mean you get to just whip it out like a hostile work environment.”

Chris barked a laugh, bright and startled. “Whip it out?”

“Do not repeat my words when I’m angry.”

“You followed me into my locker room.”

“To yell at you.”

“Then keep yelling at me.”

“I am yelling.”

“You got quiet.”

“Because you’re undressing, you lunatic.”

He shrugged, thumbs still hooked in the waistband, mouth tilted like he was enjoying himself far too much. “You can leave.”

The challenge was obvious. Obscene, really.

You should have left. Instead, you turned your head toward a row of lockers with the stiff dignity of someone who had just lost a staring contest with the waistband of a man’s swim trunks.

Chris laughed under his breath. “Oh, now you’re shy?”

“I’m being respectful.”

“That’s new.”

“I hate you.”

“You keep saying.”

“Because it keeps being true.”

“Sure.”

Fabric shifted. Your soul briefly left your body, checked the hallway for witnesses, and returned with a clipboard full of complaints.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” you snapped.

“That depends on your definition.”

“Christopher.”

“I’ve got a towel on.”

You made the mistake of looking.

The towel was, technically, on.

It was just low enough on his hips to suggest it had signed a contract with Satan. His chest was still bare and his hair fell over his forehead in damp black pieces that made him look like he had stepped out of a swimwear ad designed specifically to ruin your ability to win arguments.

You forgot what you were saying.

Chris noticed. His grin went slow. “Careful,” he said. “Craig might give me points for member engagement.”

“You’re not engaging members.”

He looks down at himself, bulge pressing against the fabric.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one staring at me.”

“You dropped trou in front of me.”

“Then report me.”

“Gladly.”

“To Craig?”

“To God.”

Chris laughed again and turned toward the showers.

You watched him go, watched the towel sit low on his hips, watched his wet hair curl against the back of his neck, watched the muscles in his shoulders shift with every easy, arrogant step, and for one blistering second you hated him so much you could feel it in your teeth.

Then you realized it was not hatred. Or not only hatred. It was the same thing that had been burning beneath every argument all summer, every look across the pool deck, every stupid little competition, every insult that landed too close to flirting, every time his eyes dragged over you when he thought you were too busy pretending not to notice.

You were tired. Tired of smiling at disgusting married men for Craig’s clipboard. Tired of watching mothers touch Chris’s biceps like the country club had installed him for recreational use. Tired of pretending his lollipop, his hair, his body, his mouth, his entire cocky, chlorine-soaked existence did not make you want to spread your legs for him.

So when he reached the shower entrance, you said, “Fuck it.”

Chris paused and turned slowly, one hand braced against the tiled wall, and the amusement on his face shifted when he saw your hands go up.

“What?”

You reached for the straps of your swimsuit and pulled it down, peeling the damp fabric away from your skin with far less grace than you would have preferred, but apparently seduction looked different when you were half-feral from sun exposure and rage. The suit landed somewhere, your whistle followed, bouncing once against the bench before going still.

For once, Chris did not have a joke ready.

His gaze moved over your naked form, quick at first, almost instinctive, before he dragged it back to your face with visible effort—like a man forcing himself to remember that staring too long without an invitation would ruin the very good thing clearly unfolding in front of him.

His mouth curved slowly. “Goddamn, baby,” he said.

The words slid down your spine.

He took one step toward you, towel hanging low on his hips, erection straining against the front of it, damp hair falling over his forehead in messy black pieces, and the look on his face was pure trouble, all heat and arrogance and restraint held in place by the thinnest fucking leash.

He stopped close enough for you to feel the warmth of him, close enough that the air between your skin and his felt charged, but he still didn’t touch you. He stood there looking like sin in a staff locker room, smug as hell, and still left the last inch to you like he knew he didn’t need to chase.

His tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, like he was trying not to grin too wide and lose the last scrap of composure he had.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re trying to get me fired.”

“You’ve been asking for it all summer.”

“I’ve been asking for a lot of things all summer.”

The way he said it made your pulse kick hard.

Chris’s gaze dropped again. This time, he let himself look. His dark eyes followed the curves of you, from your breasts to your legs, pausing at the junction of your thighs. Then his eyes came back to yours.

“You good?” he asked.

It was casual, almost lazy. But there was a line beneath it, clean and unmistakable, and you knew that if you gave him anything other than yes, if your expression shifted wrong, if your body backed up even half an inch, he would stop.

Cocky bastard. Respectful bastard. Fuck, you wanted him.

“Yes,” you said.

Chris’s smile returned, slower this time. “Yeah?”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

He leaned in slightly, still not touching. “Say it twice.”

Your breath caught, and he noticed. Chris noticed everything when he wanted to, every swallow, every glance, every crack in your voice and tremor in your attitude.

You stepped closer. “I’m good,” you said, quieter, meaner, because if he wanted the words then he could choke on them. “I want this. I want you. Happy?”

For a second, the smugness slipped. Just a second. Then he exhaled a low, pleased curse and reached for you. “Fucking thrilled.”

His hand caught your waist, hot and firm, dragging you against him with the kind of confidence that made it very clear he had been waiting for permission and now considered permission a loaded weapon. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, not gentle exactly, but controlled, his fingers curling there as he brought his mouth down to yours.

The kiss was filthy immediately. Chris kissed you like he had been imagining your mouth for weeks and was pissed he’d had to wait this long, all heat and pressure and slick, cherry-sugar memory, his teeth catching your lower lip just enough to make your hand fly to his shoulder.

You dug your nails in, making him groan against your mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed, smiling into the kiss. “You like that shit, baby?” Chris smirked, dark and delighted, and backed you toward the lockers.

Your back met metal with a dull thud, and before you could snap at him about bruising, his hand was already there behind your head, cushioning the impact like it was muscle memory, mouth still on yours, body still pressing close, arrogance still humming through every inch of him.

“You’re still annoying,” you said, breathless, when he dragged his mouth down your jaw.

“You’re still naked letting me kiss you,” he said, voice rough against your throat.

His hand slid lower, fingers pressing into your hip with enough grip to make your thoughts scatter. He tilted his head, caught your gaze, and gave you one last out with nothing but his eyes and a low, wicked murmur. “Tell me no and I stop.”

You stared at him. He stared back, water-dark hair falling into his eyes, mouth swollen from yours, towel barely hanging on, every inch of him looking like a bad decision that knew exactly how bad it was.

You reached for the edge of his towel.

Chris’s grin went sharp. “That’s not no.”

“No shit.”

The towel dropped, his control with it.

He kissed you again, harder this time, and whatever had been left of the argument collapsed under the heat of his hands, the slick press of damp skin, the obscene satisfaction of finally letting the whole stupid summer sharpen into one impossible point.

“You have no idea,” he said, breath hot against your mouth, “how many times I’ve thought about this.”

You laughed, but it came out shaky.

“In the employee locker room? That’s disturbing.”

“On the pool deck,” he said, kissing down your throat. “In the office. Behind the towel station. Every time you bend over to pick up some rich asshole’s sunglasses and then look at me like you know I’m watching.”

“You are so gross.”

“You love it.”

“I hate you.”

“No,” he said, lifting his head, eyes dark and certain. “You don’t.”

You growled, pulling him closer by the back of his neck. “No,” you said, mouth brushing his. “I don’t.”

Chris’s smile flickered, less smug for half a second and more real, which you absolutely could not tolerate under current conditions. So you kissed him before he could do anything stupid with it.

He made a rough sound into your mouth, gripped your waist, and dragged you tighter against him, all cocky hunger and barely leashed restraint, the kind of man who knew how badly he was wanted and still waited for you to choose it anyway.

Chris hauls you into the shower stall, his grip iron-tight on your wrist, and the fluorescent lights catch the hard lines of his chest, the defined muscles of his abdomen, the way his cock juts out from his hips, thick and angry and already leaking at the tip.

"You're insane," he hisses, shoving you under the spray before the water's even warm.

The initial blast is ice-cold and you gasp, back arching away from the wall, your nipples pebbling instantly, your skin erupting in goosebumps. Chris steps in after you, his body crowding yours, his hands planting on either side of your head against the tile.

"Insane," he repeats, "following me in here like that. Getting me fucking hard."

The water warms and steam billows around you both. You're drenched now, your hair plastering to your shoulders, water streaming down the valley of your breasts, rushing over the curve of your hips. Chris is just as wet, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, his dark eyes sharp and hungry as they roam over your body.

Then his lips are on yours, his tongue pushing past your lips, his hand fisting in your wet hair, his hard cock pressing against your belly and smearing precum across your stomach. You kiss him back like you're trying to consume him, your hands sliding over his slick shoulders, digging into the muscles of his back.

He leans back, biting your lower lip, tugging it, and letting it snap back. "On your knees, beautiful."

The tile is hard and cold under your knees but you don't care, don't hesitate, don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you waver. You're eye-level with his cock now, watching it bob with his pulse, thick and flushed, a vein running along the underside that you trace with your fingertip just to watch him twitch.

"Stop teasing."

"Stop being desperate." You look up at him through your lashes, water streaming down your face, and you see the exact moment his patience snaps.

His hand is in your hair again, guiding you forward, and you open your mouth without resistance because you want this just as badly as he does. Maybe more. Maybe you've wanted this all summer, every argument just foreplay, every insult a way to get his attention without having to admit you craved it.

The head of his cock passes your lips and you seal them around his shaft, tongue pressing flat against the underside, tasting salt and skin and something uniquely Chris. He groans above you, his hips jerking forward, pushing deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck," he hisses, his head falling back. "Fuck, that's—your mouth is—"

You take him deeper, relaxing your throat, breathing through your nose as you swallow around him. Your hand wraps around what you can't fit, stroking in time with your mouth, twisting on the upstroke, your other hand cupping his balls and rolling them gently in your palm.

"God, you're fucking good at this." His voice is strained, wrecked. 

You hum around him and his whole body shudders. Your eyes water but you don't pull back, don't stop, setting a rhythm that has him cursing under his breath, his thighs tensing under your free hand. You can feel him getting close—the way his balls draw up tight, the way his cock swells on your tongue, the way his grip in your hair tightens to the point of pain.

"I'm gonna—" He yanks you off suddenly, and you gasp, drool and precum stringing from your lips to his cock. "Not like that. Not yet."

He pulls you to your feet and spins you around, pressing your front against the wet tile wall. The water beats down on both of you, running in rivulets down your spine, pooling in the hollow of your lower back. His body cages yours, his chest against your back, his cock sliding between your thighs, notching against your entrance but not pushing in.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it."

"Tell me you need it."

"I need it, Chris. I need your cock inside me. Please."

"Please?" He laughs, dark and low. "Where's all that fight now? Where's the girl who was going to steal my MVP title?"

"Inside me. Where your cock should be."

"Filthy." He notches himself at your entrance and pushes in, one long, relentless thrust that has you crying out, your palms slapping against the wet tile. He fills you completely, stretching you, the slight burn mixing with the pleasure until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins.

He doesn't give you time to adjust. He fucks you hard, his hips snapping against your ass, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the tile, mixing with the spray of the water and both of your moans. His hand finds your throat, tilting your head back, and he bites along the column of your neck, sucks a bruise into the junction of your shoulder.

"This pussy is mine," he growls against your skin. "Say it."

"Yours. This pussy is yours."

"Every fucking inch of you." His free hand slides down your stomach, over your hip, dipping between your thighs to find your clit. He circles it with rough, relentless pressure, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. Going to make sure you never think about another cock without remembering how I feel inside you."

"Yes, god, yes—"

"Going to fill you up." His voice drops lower, rougher, and you feel his cock twitch inside you. "Going to pump you full of my cum, watch it drip down your thighs when I'm done with you."

The words hit something deep in your core, something primal and desperate. You push back against him, meeting each thrust, your nails scraping uselessly against the tile. The pressure is building, coiling tight in your belly, your orgasm creeping closer with every stroke of his fingers, every snap of his hips.

"Chris, I'm going to—"

"Not yet." He slows his pace, torturously slow, and you whimper. "Not until I say."

"Please, please, I need—"

His thumb shifts, sliding back, pressing against your asshole. You tense for a moment, then force yourself to relax, and he groans at the way your body yields to him.

"Look at you," he breathes, jaw dropping at the visual of his thumb rubbing your tight hole. "So fucking desperate for it. Huh, baby? You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you?"

"Anything. Anything you want."

He pushes just the tip of his thumb past the ring of muscle, and the fullness has you seeing stars. He resumes his pace, fucking you hard again, his thumb working in and out in counterpoint to his cock. The dual sensation is overwhelming, pushing you higher and higher, and you're sobbing with it, begging with sounds that barely qualify as words.

"Come for me," he says in your ear. "Come on my cock and make me come inside you."

You shatter. Your orgasm crashes through you, every muscle clenching and releasing at once, your cunt gripping him so tight he groans loud enough to echo. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, just fucks you through it, drawing out every last wave until you're shaking, until your legs barely hold you.

"Good girl." His rhythm stutters, becoming erratic. "Good fucking girl. I'm gonna fill you up now, baby. Gonna breed this pretty pussy."

"Yes, god, yes, give me everything—"

He slams home one final time and holds, his cock pulsing inside you, rope after rope of hot cum flooding your core. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh fuuuuuck,” he groans loudly. You can feel it, feel him marking you from the inside, and the sensation triggers another smaller orgasm that has you writhing against the wall.

For a moment, neither of you moves. Just the sound of water and breathing. Then he pulls out, and you feel his cum immediately start to slip down your thighs, mingling with the water, washing away the evidence of what you've done. His hands are gentle now, turning you around, brushing wet hair from your face.

"You're still not winning MVP," he says, but his voice is soft.

"We'll see about that." You're breathless, wrecked, but you manage a smile. "I think I just proved I can make you lose your mind. That's got to count for something."

He laughs, this real sound, and kisses you again—slower this time, less frantic.

"We're not done," he murmurs against your lips. "Not even close. You started a war when you followed me in here, and I intend to win it."

"Bring it on, Chris."

He grins, and there's something wicked in it, something that makes your spent cunt clench in anticipation.

"Round two in the locker room," he says, already reaching for you again. "I want to bend you over one of those benches and hear you scream."

The water runs cold around you both, but neither of you cares. And something tells you that by the end of it, neither of you will remember why you were fighting in the first place.

Or maybe that's exactly why you started.

𑣲 EVENT TAGLIST:

@fatbitchgeek-blog @skzcodered @kloversung @viisstrayy @starjely @channlust @lynsbng @mxmx09 @clingy-ass-bitch @taekwondoe @embobema @sage-burrow @tonkshamsandwich @starlostjisung @fauxontherun @jup-exe @b4echo @madaboutminho @skzhotpot @tsumiyaa @felixstarz @deffnot-ramiyah @onthesynth @bleepracha

[asj15]

"can u multitask" yes actually i am losing my mind and chilling at the same time

[lesbianrey]

every day i get a little madder about the ‘dream job’ narrative… all i want is to have a job that benefits society somewhat, doesn’t abuse me, and lets me live a happy life outside of my job lol. jobs should not be (and arguably can’t be) cosmic destinies and identities

[aropride]

(so mad i can’t see straight) Yeah i just don’t think chat gpt is a good classroom tool

[hexjulia]

wanting to vent a bit/being worried about privacy will have you posting like i'm dealing with issues and problems. situations have happened to me. and there are emotions i'm experiencing about this. or not. gotta keep 'em on their toes.

[brainstreams]

[exhuastedpigeon]

Sometimes you hear a song and a fic pops into your head full formed. This is a trap. The fic may be fully formed in your brain, but you still Have to write it down. This is an important step that most people forget about.

[theriverbeyond]

honestly getting cozy in bed is one of the top experiences one can have on this green earth

[badangerous]

i felt like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle when i saw jaafar in those striped pants and i hope i wasn't the only one who felt that way

[maiaheon]

Lixie

[sunshinesfreckless]

Maknae wants, Maknae gets.

Pairing: Idol!Jeongin x Idol!Fem!Reader

CW: Smut, Oral (F receiving)

Summary: Jeongin, being the spoiled maknae he is, isn’t used to not getting what he wants—especially not when it’s a pretty girl like the maknae of ITZY.

Jeongin was never told no.

Not once. Not ever. Not in any universe he was currently aware of.

“Chan hyung, can I get this?”

He had held up a watch once—sleek, expensive, something he didn’t even really need.

The watch was ordered before he could even finish explaining why he liked it.

“Felix hyung, can you help me build my new setup?”

Felix didn’t even hesitate. Just smiled, ruffled his hair, and spent hours putting everything together like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Ahh, Minho hyung, can you cook me something?”

A small whine, a tilt of his head—and suddenly dinner was being plated like he was royalty.

Jeongin was used to warmth. To yes. To people giving in before he even had to try.

So yeah—he was completely and utterly unprepared for this.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“No.”

Simple. Straightforward. Easy.

Her Training bag slung over her shoulder, strands of hair sticking to her face, cheeks flushed from practice.

The company hallway smelling faintly of cleaner and sweat.

And Jeongin went quiet.

Actually quiet.

Y/N blinked a few times, like she was making sure he heard her right. “I don’t want to go on a date with you.”

“What do you mean… no?” he asked, slower this time, like maybe the word would change if he said it differently.

But it didn’t.

She gave him a small, polite smile—the kind that didn’t reach her eyes—and adjusted the strap of her bag. “It just means no, Jeongin.”

Jeongin looked dumbfounded at the maknae from ITZY when she left.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

He was pouting.

Not a little. A lot.

“Aaaah, Innie, what’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, immediately reaching over to pinch his cheek as they sat in the company canteen.

“Y/N won’t go out with me,” he muttered.

Silence.

All the boys looked at him at once.

“…what?” Jisung blinked.

“Do you want me to ask Yeji to set something up?” Hyunjin offered immediately, suddenly very invested, leaning forward.

“She already said no to me,” Jeongin whined, dragging the last word out.

They all visibly deflated.

They couldn‘t see their maknae like this.

“Maybe…” Jisung started carefully, tapping his fingers against the table, “maybe you should try being a little more romantic. Like, get to know her first before asking again.”

Jeongin looked at him like he had just spoken a foreign language.

“Girls like that,” Jisung added with a shrug.

“…how do I do that?” Jeongin asked, genuinely lost now.

“Before I dated my girlfriend, I got her flowers every Friday,” Seungmin said casually, taking a sip of his drink.

Jeongin’s head snapped toward him.

“Are you serious? What flowers? How do I know what she likes? What if she hates flowers? What if I pick the wrong ones?” he started rambling, panic slowly creeping in.

Hyunjin laughed softly and patted his shoulder.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“So…” Hyunjin started carefully, turning the piece of meat with his chopsticks as it sizzled on the grill between them. “Can I bribe you with something?”

Yeji looked up from across the table, already suspicious. “What is it about?”

“Your maknae.”

Yeji slowly pointed at him with her chopsticks.

“No.”

“I’m not asking for myself, yah.”

She raised one brow. “That somehow makes it worse.”

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Come on, Yeji. You know Jeongin likes her.”

“I know,” she said flatly. “She told me he asked her out.”

“And?”

“And she said no.”

Hyunjin pressed a hand to his chest. “Look, they would be a cute couple.”

“She doesn’t know him well enough,” Yeji said, reaching for her drink. “And he is trouble.”

“He is not!”

Yeji didn’t even answer.

She just stared at him.

That long, unimpressed stare that made Hyunjin immediately feel like he was losing.

He exhaled. “Fine. I’ll pay for every dinner we eat together for the next five months.”

That made her pause.

Her expression changed just enough for Hyunjin to notice.

“…what do you want to know?”

Hyunjin sat up instantly, like he had just won a national negotiation.

“What are her favorite flowers?”

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Y/N could not believe her eyes.

The delivery man had barely stepped out of the dorm before all six girls were already staring at the enormous bouquet now sitting in the middle of their living room table.

It was ridiculous.

Huge.

Soft cream roses mixed with pale pink peonies, delicate white ranunculus tucked between them like something straight out of a romance movie. The whole arrangement looked expensive enough to pay someone’s rent.

Ryujin reached for the small card tucked between the flowers.

She read one line.

Then snorted.

Then immediately burst into laughter.

“Oh my God,” she said, already handing it over. “This is for you, Y/N.”

Y/N slowly took the card from her.

Her eyes scanned the neat handwriting.

No flower could compare to your beauty.

—Sincerely, your fox.

She stared at it for a second.

Then at the flowers.

Then back at the card.

“This guy…” she whispered under her breath.

From the kitchen, Yeji suddenly became very interested in her water.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

The boys had just sat down for their canteen break when Y/N appeared.

Jeongin looked up first.

His whole face brightened.

“It worked this fast alrea—”

He barely made it halfway out of his seat before the letter smacked straight against his chest.

“You punk.”

The entire table went silent.

Jeongin blinked, clutching the crumpled card in his hand while Y/N stood over him, eyes narrowed.

“Are you not used to hearing no?” she asked. “Are you that spoiled?”

The smile on his face disappeared.

And before he could say anything, she turned around and walked away.

Again.

Leaving him staring after her.

Again.

The table stayed dead silent for a full three seconds.

Then Chan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well…” he muttered. “That did not go as planned.”

Across the table, Seungmin completely lost it.

He leaned back laughing so hard he nearly dropped his drink while Jeongin slowly turned to glare at all of them.

“No,” Jeongin said flatly. “I actually think it went worse.

“Maybe… she’s not materialistic,” Felix said thoughtfully, leaning back against the chair.

“What do you mean?” Jeongin asked, already tired but still desperate.

Felix just shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t care about gifts. Maybe you have to… I don’t know… show effort differently.”

That was all Jeongin needed to hear.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNN—!”

Y/N almost dropped her training bag.

Inside the practice room, all other five of her group members froze mid-move.

Slowly… very slowly… they all turned toward the door.

Jeongin was standing on a chair in the middle of the hallway.

With a guitar.

Where he got it from? No one knew.

Why he thought this was a good idea? Even less clear.

But he was committed.

Deeply.

“YOUR BEAUTY IS HAUNTING MY DREAMMMSSSS—

YOUR EYES NEVER LEAVE MY MINNNDDDD—!”

“This is painful to look at,” Chaeryeong muttered.

“Oh God…” Yuna whispered, already hiding behind Lia.

Y/N stood there for a second.

Processing.

Then she walked out.

Straight toward him.

Jeongin saw her coming and—oh—his confidence SKYROCKETED.

He sang louder.

More dramatic.

Fully in it.

She stepped closer.

Closer.

Got on her tiptoes—

—and took the guitar out of his hands.

Jeongin stopped mid-note.

“…oh.”

Y/N didn’t say a single word.

She just turned around and walked away.

With the guitar.

“…that’s Nayeons guitar,” he said quietly, watching her disappear.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

The dorm was dead silent.

Jeongin sat in the middle of the couch, staring into nothing again.

He had entered a new level of rejection.

Hyunjin sat across from him, visibly struggling to find something supportive to say.

“…well,” he started, scratching his neck, “we don’t know… maybe she really just doesn’t want you, Innie.”

“Leave me alone,” Jeongin mumbled.

“Aaah, Yongbok, you can have every girl,” Changbin sighed dramatically.

Felix turned his head slowly. “Changbin… I’m still Yongbok.”

“…right.”

A pause.

“Well… maybe you could write her a poem?” Minho suggested casually.

“A poem?” Jisung frowned. “What are you, a court poet?”

“Don’t get all cocky,” Minho shot back.

Jisung shut up immediately.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

So Jeongin wrote a poem.

A full page.

Messy in places, rewritten lines, a few ink smudges where he pressed too hard. He even sprayed a bit of his perfume on it—because apparently he was that far gone now.

He found her in the canteen.

Walked up to her.

Held it out.

Y/N looked at it.

Then at him.

Then back at it.

She took it.

Jeongin held his breath.

She read it.

Every single line.

No reaction.

Nothing.

She folded it once.

Looked at him.

Didn’t say a word.

Turned around—

—and left.

Again.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“At least she didn’t throw it away,” Hyunjin mumbled under his breath.

No one laughed this time.

Jeongin just stood there.

Still.

His expression had changed again.

No pout.

No whining.

No dramatic reactions.

Just quiet.

And for the first time—

it didn’t look like he was planning his next move.

It looked like he was finally starting to understand that her “no”…

actually meant no.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

They were packing up.

Cables being wrapped, stage lights cooling down, staff calling out last instructions across the venue. The energy from the performance still lingered in the air, but everything else was winding down fast.

Jeongin slung his bag over his shoulder, exhaustion settling into his bones as he stepped outside.

It was dark already.

Cold.

He exhaled, breath visible in the air, ready to finally go home—

“Don’t act all shy,” a voice cut through the quiet. Male. Low. Wrong. “You’re wearing a little skirt and expect me to ignore you?”

Jeongin stopped.

Every muscle in his body tensed.

“…stop it.”

Her voice.

He turned.

Fast.

Down the side of the building, near the loading area where the lights didn’t quite reach—

Y/N.

And a man easily twice her size, towering over her, leaning in way too close.

Something in Jeongin snapped.

He didn’t think.

Didn’t hesitate.

He just walked.

Straight toward them.

“Hey.”

Both of them turned.

Jeongin’s expression was different now. No softness. No pout. Nothing playful left.

“She said stop it.”

The man looked him up and down, unimpressed. Smirk spreading across his face.

“And who are you?”

Jeongin let his bag slide off his shoulder.

It hit the ground with a dull thud.

And in the next second—

he moved.

Fast.

Grabbing the guy by the collar, shoving him back with full force until his body slammed against the wall. The sound echoed sharply in the cold air.

“STOP IT.”

Not loud.

But sharp enough to cut.

For a split second, everything froze.

Then—

“JEONGIN—!”

Chan’s voice rang out behind him.

Too late.

Jeongin’s fist connected.

Clean.

The impact echoed through the alley.

Silence followed.

Footsteps rushing in.

Staff. Managers. Voices overlapping.

But Jeongin didn’t look at any of them.

Didn’t look at Chan.

Didn’t look at the man.

He turned.

Immediately.

His eyes finding Y/N.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice lower now, steadier—but there was something under it. Something raw.

Y/N stared at him.

A little shocked.

A little breathless.

But she nodded.

“…yeah.”

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“We had to pay him so he would stay quiet about Jeongin punching him,” the CEO mumbled, clearly exhausted.

Chan let out a long, frustrated sigh from across the table, rubbing his temples.

Jeongin didn’t react.

Didn’t defend himself.

Didn’t apologize either.

He just sat there, quiet.

His gaze drifting—

to the other side of the room.

Y/N was sitting with Yeji, both Maknaes had their group leaders nearby, going over what had happened.

She looked fine.

Safe.

That was all that mattered.

Jeongin exhaled slowly.

And then—

she looked up.

Right at him.

For a second, he thought she’d look away like always.

Ignore him.

Walk off.

But she didn’t.

She smiled.

And then—

her cheeks turned pink.

Jeongin blinked.

Once.

Twice.

…she was blushing?

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

He sat on his bed, phone in hand, scrolling without really seeing anything.

Knock.

“Open,” he said, not even looking up.

The door clicked shut.

“Chan said you’re under house arrest.”

Jeongin’s head snapped up so fast it almost hurt.

Y/N.

Hoodie. Sweatpants.

Not put together.

Not distant.

Just… her.

“I came to say thank you,” she said, quieter now.

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t move.

Like if he did, she’d disappear again.

She stepped closer.

“Can I sit down?” she asked.

Jeongin nodded immediately, sitting up straighter, clearing space beside him without even realizing he was doing it.

“Yeah… yeah, of course.”

She sat down next to him.

Close.

Closer than she’d ever been before.

Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her through the fabric of her hoodie.

Silence.

Not awkward.

Just… heavy.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said after a moment, looking down at her hands.

“I know,” he answered.

That made her look at him.

Really look at him.

Not like before. Not guarded. Not dismissive.

Something softer.

“You could’ve gotten into serious trouble,” she added.

“I don’t care.”

That came out too fast.

Jeongin swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “I mean—I do care but… not about that. Not if—” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply.

Not if it’s you.

He didn’t say it.

But it hung there anyway.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to his lips for half a second.

Then back to his eyes.

“You’re different,” she said quietly.

Jeongin frowned slightly. “From what?”

“From what I thought.”

That… hit harder than anything else.

Because suddenly all those “no’s” made sense.

She really didn’t know him.

Not really.

“I’m not—” he started, then stopped, shaking his head. “I’m not just… that spoiled kid you think I am.”

“I know,” she said softly.

And the way she said it—

like she actually meant it—

made his chest tighten.

Silence again.

Y/N shifted slightly, turning toward him more fully now.

Close.

Too close.

Jeongin’s breath hitched, just barely.

“You scared me yesterday,” she admitted.

His expression changed instantly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Not like that,” she interrupted quickly, shaking her head.

Her eyes softened.

“You scared me because…” she hesitated, then let out a small breath, “…no one’s ever done that for me before.”

That did something to him.

Something deep.

“You don’t have to—” he started again, quieter now, but she cut him off.

“Stop talking.”

Jeongin blinked.

“…what?”

“Just—” she shook her head, a small, almost nervous smile appearing, “for once, just don’t talk.”

And then—

she leaned in.

Slow at first.

Like she was giving him time to pull away.

To mess it up.

To say something stupid.

But he didn’t.

He just sat there.

Completely still.

Heart racing.

Watching her.

And when her lips finally touched his—

It was sudden. Hot. Immediate.

Like all the tension from before—all the rejection, the frustration, the build-up—snapped at once.

Jeongin froze for half a second.

Then his hand came up to her waist, pulling her closer without thinking.

Like he needed to make sure she was real.

Like she wasn’t about to walk away again.

She kissed him harder, her lips pressing firmly against his, tongue slipping past to taste him with a hunger that surprised even her.

Jeongin's hand tightened on her waist, pulling her body flush against his side.

He responded with his mouth moving with hers, deepening the kiss until breaths mingled in short, desperate gasps.

Y/N's hands found his shoulders, fingers digging in as she shifted closer, her knee brushing his thigh. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, charged with the unspoken need that had been building between them for so long.

Jeongin broke the kiss first, just enough to trail his lips along her jaw, down to the soft skin of her neck. She tilted her head back, a quiet whimper escaping her lips as his teeth grazed lightly.

She couldn‘t believe that Jeongin made her feel this wet.

"Y/N," he murmured against her pulse, voice rough and low.

His free hand slid up her back, under the hoodie, feeling the warmth of her bare skin.

She shivered, not from cold, but from the intensity of his touch—the way he held her like she was something precious yet devoured her with every kiss.

She pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and vulnerable. "Jeongin... I..." Her words faltered, shyness creeping in as the reality of what was happening sank deeper.

But the ache between her legs, the way her body responded to him, overrode the hesitation. She wanted this. Needed it.

He searched her face, his protective instinct flaring. "We can stop if you want," he said softly, though his body screamed otherwise, his erection straining against his pants from the mere press of her against him.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing his lip. "Don't stop. Please."

That was all the encouragement he needed. Jeongin kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the way her mouth yielded to him.

His hands moved to her hips, thumbs circling the waistband of her sweatpants.

He tugged gently, testing, and she lifted her hips without a word, helping him slide them down her legs. The fabric pooled at her ankles, and she kicked them off, leaving her in just the oversized hoodie that barely skimmed her thighs and her simple panties.

Jeongin's gaze darkened as he took her in—legs bare, skin smooth and inviting.

He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties, pulling them down slowly, exposing her completely.

Y/N's breath hitched, her thighs pressing together instinctively, a flush of embarrassment heating her face.

No one had seen her like this, not up close, not with such raw intent.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice reverent, pushing her knees apart with gentle hands. She let him, though her heart pounded wildly. He settled between her legs, the bed dipping under his weight, his broad shoulders nudging her thighs wider.

The hoodie rode up, bunching at her waist, leaving her pussy bare to his hungry eyes—soft folds already glistening with arousal.

Y/N bit her lip, watching him through half-lidded eyes, shy but unable to look away. "Jeongin..." Her voice trembled, vulnerability mixing with the growing heat in her core.

He looked up at her, eyes locked on hers, caring and intense. "Tell me if it's too much. But I want to make you feel good. Let me take care of you." His words were a promise, protective as always, even in this moment of pure desire.

She nodded, whispering, "I want this..."

That ignited something in him. Jeongin leaned in, his breath hot against her inner thigh, kissing the sensitive skin there before moving higher.

His tongue flicked out, tracing the edge of her folds, tasting her for the first time. Y/N gasped, her hands fisting the sheets, body arching slightly off the bed.

He groaned at the flavor—sweet and musky, all her—and dove in fully.

His mouth covered her pussy, lips sealing around her clit as he sucked gently, tongue swirling in firm circles. Y/N's moan filled the room, shy at first, then louder as pleasure sparked through her.

His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh to keep her steady.

Jeongin devoured her like a man starved, tongue lapping broad strokes from her entrance to her clit, slurping noisily at the wetness gathering there.

He pushed inside her with his tongue, fucking her shallowly, tasting every inch.

Y/N's hips bucked, her shyness warring with the ecstasy building, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her fingers threaded into his hair, encouraging him closer.

"Oh god, Jeongin... that feels... don't stop," she panted, voice breathy and needy. Her body trembled, seeing stars already from the way he worked her over.

He hummed against her, the vibration sending jolts up her spine. One hand slid up, fingers teasing her entrance before slipping one inside, curling against her inner walls.

She clenched around him, wet and hot, and he added a second finger, pumping slowly while his mouth focused on her clit—sucking harder now, tongue flicking relentlessly.

Y/N's head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as heaven unfolded in waves.

His fingers thrust deeper, scissoring to stretch her, while his slurping grew messier, lips smacking against her soaked pussy.

He pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside her, coated in her arousal, before leaning in again to lap at where they joined, tongue swirling around his own digits.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured between licks, voice muffled against her skin. "Taste so fucking good. I could do this all day."

Her cheeks burned at his words, shyness flaring, but the pleasure drowned it out. "Jeongin…Keep... keep eating me like that. Please….." She encouraged him, voice soft but insistent, her hips grinding against his face now, chasing the building pressure.

He obliged, devouring her with renewed fervor. His fingers curled faster, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out, while his tongue flattened against her clit, rubbing side to side.

The sounds echoed obscenely, his mouth greedy, swallowing her juices as they flowed. Y/N's thighs quivered around his head, her body tensing as the orgasm approached.

"I'm... oh fuck, Jeongin, I'm close," she whimpered, shy vulnerability cracking through her moans. But she didn't hide it—she pulled him closer, telling him exactly what she needed. "Don't stop fingering me. Your mouth... it's heaven. You make me so horny, I can't think."

Jeongin growled low, the sound vibrating through her core.

He sucked her clit between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to tease, while his fingers plunged deeper, thumb now circling her entrance to add pressure. Tongue delving between his fingers to taste more, lapping up every drop.

Y/N shattered, her pussy clenching hard around his fingers, waves of pleasure crashing over her. She cried out his name, body convulsing, seeing pure bliss as he worked her through it—mouth never stopping, fingers slowing but still curling, drawing out every tremor.

He didn't pull away until she went limp, panting and spent.

Only then did he kiss her inner thigh softly, withdrawing his fingers with a wet pop, licking them clean while watching her with protective eyes.

Y/N looked down at him, flushed and shy, but smiling.

"That was... incredible," she whispered, reaching for him. "You... you're too good to me."

Jeongin crawled up, kissing her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips. "told you so,"

Silence.

"I kept your poem."

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Felix peeled his banana while they all walked out of the canteen.

“I forgot to shave my left leg,” he said casually, inspecting it. “It looks really weird.”

Chan let out a laugh, shaking his head.

They kept walking.

And then—

the ITZY girls.

Right in front of them.

Both groups slowed down automatically, exchanging greetings, small nods, the usual passing-by politeness.

And then it happened.

Y/N stepped a little closer to Jeongin.

She leaned in—

and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Silence.

Immediate.

Dead.

Every single member—from both groups—froze.

Felix stopped mid-bite.

Chan blinked.

Hyunjin’s mouth literally fell open.

On the other side, Yeji’s brows shot up while Ryujin looked VERY surprised.

Jeongin?

Jeongin stopped breathing.

Actually.

Stopped.

Y/N pulled back like it was nothing, she only blushed—

and walked off with her members.

Just like that.

Leaving chaos behind.

“…what just happened,” Jisung whispered.

No one answered.

Because Jeongin was still standing there.

Frozen.

Hand slowly coming up to touch his cheek—

like he needed to check if it really happened.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Later. Gym.

His mind was somewhere else entirely.

The door opened.

Chan walked in.

He walked straight over and tossed a small package onto the bench next to Jeongin.

“You better use condoms.”

Jeongin’s brain short-circuited.

He looked down.

Then at Chan.

Then back at the package.

“HYUNG—!”

He grabbed it immediately and shoved it into his bag like it was illegal.

[nctateez]

Corrected

When you and Seungmin keep trying to out brat each other, he has to find ways for you to start working together

pairing: Changbin x fem!reader x Seungmin genre: established relationship, smut smut smut, dom/sub dynamics, does include some mxm content rating: explicit, 18+, minors do not interact word count: 5.6k warnings:  brat!reader, brat!seungmin, brat tamer!changbin, Minnie and reader are switches for each other, subs for bin, trying to get each other in trouble, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. and m. receiving), remote controlled vibrator in public, hand job in public (under a blanket), restraints, spanking with hand, spanking with a belt, nicknames (changbin calls seungmin baby, reader princess, and when addressing both of them he uses angels), changbin is definitely giving soft dom brat tamer energy in this I couldn't help it, making out around bin's cock, light choking, orgasm control, orgasm denial, overstimulation, double penetration (piv), no protection (don't), mxm content (kissing, spanking, oral) A/N: Requests are always open! This may be the most intense thing I've written to date! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Changbin only had three rules for you both. 

Do what he told you to

No playing with each other without him knowing

No coming without his permission

But you couldn’t help it. And Changbin knew you couldn’t help it. Getting together with two switches who keep trying to out brat each other, he knew you would both slip up sooner rather than later.

He knew something was brewing when you started trying to get each other in low-grade trouble with him. ‘She keeps touching me under the table at dinner!’, ‘I walked in on him jerking off!’. He couldn’t help but smirk at your ministrations, and enjoy edging you both until you were crying into each other's necks apologising.

However, after that night, neither of you seemed to want to stop. In fact, you were both now starting to make things more obvious. Changbin coming home from a long day in the studio and you were both suspiciously far apart on the couch, lips swollen, breath heavy. Smirking down at your phones over dinner as you read the filthy text you just sent Seungmin to rile him up, going back and forth until Changbin grabs your phone to read them.

You both began trying to get the other to break rules on purpose so that you could tell Changbin. You palming over Seungmin’s already hard cock when you were out to dinner with the boys, not really being able to outright tell you to stop due to the publicity and prying ears of his friends. Pressing a kiss to his neck as he lets out a strangled whimper and comes in his pants. That one earned him 5 back to back orgasms where he could only watch Changbin fuck you into the mattress. 

Him pushing you back on the couch, pulling your sleep shorts and panties to the side and immediately attaching his soft lips to your clit. Your eyes rolling back as your hand comes to grasp the hair at the back of his neck, pulling his mouth harder against you. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself getting close when he pushed two long fingers into you easily with how wet you were, curling them to make your vision white out. Your legs kicked either side of his broad shoulders, your hands weakly attempting to push him away despite not really wanting to. 

“Stop Min, I’m not allowed to come.” you whine, hips bucking up into his relentless tongue.

He smirked in response into your sopping cunt, sucking your slit harder, pulling you over the edge quickly. That earned you a night of unrelenting edging with a vibrating wand tied to your clit.

He knew you were both long overdue for discipline when you started breaking rules in front of him. It started simple, during sex, Changbin telling you that you need to wait to come and Seungmin is changing the angle of his hips to fuck into your g-spot to make you come without permission. The same thing happening when Seungmin is not allowed to come, you’re clenching your walls and swivelling your hips, putting on a show to make your boyfriend come before he’s allowed to.

The next time it happened it was more obvious. Out to dinner with your two boys, Changbin’s head tilted quizzically at you as he watched you try to stifle a whimper as you’re browsing the menu, seeing Seungmin try to hide a smirk out of the corner of his eye. Seeing your hips gently rocking as they discuss how their weeks have gone, your eyes shut as Seungmin fiddles with something under the table. Changbin caught on quickly to your misbehaviour as he pushed his hand under your dress and very quickly felt the unsanctioned vibrations in your panties. He held his hand out to Seungmin, raising an eyebrow, silently asking him for the remote. You came three times before dessert arrived, Seungmin was only allowed to watch.

The last time was when you were cuddled up on Minho and Jisung’s couch at movie night, to most, you looked sleepy under a soft blanket, but Changbin knew you were up to something. He just didn’t think you’d be this bold in front of the group. Your hand ran up and down Seungmin’s cock underneath the blanket, the music from the movie drowning out any noises coming from your boyfriend's mouth. 

You could feel his eyes on you, Changbin catching your eye then glancing down at your moving arm, then back up.

“Minnie’s cheeks are very red princess, can you check he’s okay?” he asks, but you know the thinly veiled point he’s trying to make. You smile back at him, shaking your head, telling him he feels fine to you.

Changbin moves closer behind you so that your back is flush with his chest, leaning in so that you can both hear his too gentle whisper. “If you make him come right now, neither of you are coming for a week.”

You smirk over at Seungmin and move your hand quicker, your other hand going to his balls to roll them gently as you feel his stomach tighten with your movements. You both look to Seungmin who has his head thrown on the back of the couch, biting the back of his hand to quieten his moans as he comes over your hand.

You hear a short growl in your ear before he speaks directly, “Up. Now. We’re going home.” He pushes himself up from the couch, frustrated tension pulsing from him as he makes his way to the door.

The others don’t question it, the weird tension has been building up for weeks now and they need it over with. They don’t want to keep being a part of something that you all think you’re being slick about. Especially as you lick your hand on the way to the door and Seungmin stutters something out about how it’s probably best he keep Jisung’s favourite faux fur blanket.

~

The car ride home is filled with tension that you’re not sure you want to break. Changbin clutches the steering wheel like it’s going to run away from him, Seungmin was banished to the backseat, and you to the passenger so that there would be no additional teasing on the way home.

Feeling the aura surrounding him, you think it’s worth a shot to try and make it even marginally better for you.

“I’m sorry. I-” Changbin snaps his head to look at you, not needing to say a word for you to quieten, shrinking into the door on your other side, the dominant atmosphere almost suffocating you all.

~

As you all made your way to your bedroom, Changbin moves to the spare room for a minute, letting you enter your bedroom as just the two of you. Standing on the rug at the bottom of the bed, you turned to glance up at Seungmin standing beside you.

“We are so fucked.” you mumble to him quietly.

Seungmin smirks back down at you, “Thank god.”

“Kneel.” You hear coming from the doorway, a shiver running down your spine as you feel him come into the room behind you, both of you dropping to your knees to the plush rug underneath you.

He doesn’t move from behind you, letting you feel the tension rising in the large space. “Hands.” he commands, both of you raising your hands above your head immediately. Not daring to look back at him as he starts to tie soft scarves around Seungmin’s wrists, moving to replicate the turns and beautiful knot to finish it off on your own wrists.

He walked slowly to stand in front of you, eyes wandering your kneeling forms. He lifts his forefinger and flicks it down, and you both lower your arms in front of you. Neither of you are brave enough to make direct eye contact with him yet, your eyes lowered to the fibers beneath his feet.

“You’ve been fucking with me,” he starts, letting out a sigh. “And I don’t know if it’s to get a reaction out of me, or because you enjoy being with each other more than me.”

Both Seungmin and yourself make immediate noises of disagreement at his conclusions, but one look from Changbin has you both silenced.

“Before I start, I need confirmation from both of you that you’re just wanting a reaction.” He turns to you first, nodding for you to talk.

“It’s only for your reaction. It’s been so long since you’ve been in full dom Changbin mode and I just wanted to see it again.” you spoke quickly, trying to calm his assumptions but also the rising hurt in yourself that you let him believe it could be for anything more than to get a reaction from him. He nods at your words and turns to the man beside you.

“I wanted to see her get punished,” he answered smoothly, a light smirk on his face, “And somewhere along the way, I wanted to be too.” he admitted, a blush skirting his cheekbones.

Changbin let out a sigh and nods at your answers, some tension leaving his shoulders and a playful glint beginning to swirl in his darkening eyes. “Perfect, because after all that shit you’ve both pulled, punished is what you’ll be.”

You couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose on your arms at his tone of voice.

“Since you were both in this together, I’m going to let you choose each other’s punishments.” Your eyes widened as you glanced at Seungmin beside you.

Changbin squats down in front of him, pulling his tied wrists closer to him so he can whisper properly in his ear, humming in response.

He moves to you, pulling your wrists so that your hands rest on the rug beneath you, arching your back until your lips were beside his ear. “What’s his punishment, princess?”

Answering with fifteen hits with Changbin’s hand, you feel a smirk in your ear as he pulls back to stand. 

“Interesting. Min, she’s chosen fifteen spanks with my hand,” you hear Seungmin’s breath hitch a little beside you, a muttered apology under his breath. Changbin smirks down at you both. “Why don’t you tell our princess why you’re sorry baby.”

“I also picked fifteen,” he started nervously, not continuing until your other boyfriend prompted him with a, ‘and what did you pick it to be implemented with.’

Seungmin let out a shaky sigh as he broke eye contact with you. “A belt.” he whispered, trying to fold in on himself. Your eyes widened at his answer as he tried to scramble to make it better, “I thought you were going to go hard on me!” he whined before Changbin cut him off.

“Up. Over the bed.”

You shook a little as you got to your feet the best you could with your hands tied in front of you, leaning gracefully over the end of the bed beside each other, hands above your head, face pushed into the mattress. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach clench at the thought of 15 hits with his belt while your partner in crime gets away with only his hand.

He starts with Seungmin, flexing his muscles and pulling not very hard to rip his shirt open before pulling his sweats and boxers down, throwing them to the side. His hand didn’t touch him yet, just sitting on his lower back, just above his ass, watching him tense, not knowing when the first hit was going to land.

“You’ll be a good boy and stay still for me, won’t you baby?” Changbin asks teasingly, running his hand along his spine, Seungmin letting out a shaky breath that is cut off by a pained moan as the first strike lands centre on his ass.

Despite not using an implement, Changbin’s hand can pack quite a sting. His bicep muscles rippling as his hand raised and came down again, admiring the reddening skin below his hand, his other hand coming to press on his lower back due to his squirming, unintentionally pressing his already leaking cock harder into the blankets.

He collapsed onto the bedding as the last strike hit at the tops of his thighs, breathing hard into the blankets.

You feel yourself tense up, knowing your time now is coming. Your fingers tighten in the blanket as you feel him pull your sweats and panties down, throwing them in the same direction he did Min’s. Before reaching his hands around you and ripping your flimsy tank top off your body, feeling his biceps flex against your sides, exposing your breasts to the chill of the cotton below you.

His hand grazed over the perkiness of your ass, giving it a light squeeze before you hear him stand, walking to his drawers and pulling a belt from the top, wrapping it around his hand as he comes back behind you.

“You ready princess?” he asks, smiling down at your breathing getting heavier, “Remember it wasn’t me who chose this punishment.” he breathes into your ear, kissing your cheek before standing upright behind you.

The first crack came unexpectedly, making you let out an ungodly moan of pain, it being so long since he had used his belt on you. He gave you no time in between strikes to breath, the second and third coming down on either side of the first reddening welt across your skin.

Around number five he gives you a small break, letting you catch your breath, running his hand delicately over the raised marks. He watches you closely for any sign of a change in your posture, any bad changes to your breathing, any non verbal signs that you had changed your mind. Seeing none, he continues.

Strikes ten, eleven, and twelve sting down on your thighs in quick succession before he pauses. “I’m going to give you a choice baby,” he says, turning his head to look at your boyfriend who was still bent over the bed beside you, cock hard and leaking between him and the sheets, watching the punishment he bestowed on you.

“Since you were feeling bad for the punishment you chose for our princess, I’m giving you the choice on who gets the last three.” he smirks down at Min’s mouth dropping open a little, his breath hitching. His eyes flit beside him to you on the bed, hands clenched in the sheets, face lined with tears, your body had a slight tremble to it due to the adrenaline rush.

He knew you could take it. You all knew you could take it. Hell, he could double it if he wanted to and you would still be able to take it. But still, he felt bad knowing he got off lightly in comparison.

You meet his eyes over your arms and whisper out, “It’s okay.” But the brattiness leaves his body the second you say it, so softly, knowing this isn’t something he has much experience with compared to you.

But it’s only three. He can do three.

His eyes shift to meet Changbin’s, who has obviously been watching this exchange with curiosity.

“I’ll take them,” he confirms, moving his head back to rest on the bed, his eyes closed in anticipation until he feels a small shift beside him, your tied hand intertwining with his, your glassy eyes looking at him, sparkling.

“Thank you,” you whispered out as his hand tightened around yours when the first crack came down on his ass. The same velocity as yours had been, a choked whine ripping from his lips. They parted in a gasp as the second strike covered the tops of his thighs, before finally he feels the last, angled just so that it hit right on top of the soft plushy part of his ass, right over where he would sit. A strangled moan leaving his lips at how much harder it was than the last two.

Changbin hums from behind you as he drops the belt to the side, “You look so cute when you’re working together, not trying to out-brat each other.” He came close between you, his hands simultaneously run over your sore cheeks.

You both let out a sharp moan when he gives you a small smack with his hand to accompany his demand, “On your knees again.” He steps back to give you the space, standing imposingly above your naked bodies, kneeling hesitantly back so you hurt yourselves less.

Changbin leans down in front of you, his finger tipping your head back to look in his eyes, wiping your tears with such contradicting delicate touches it makes your brain dizzy. He presses a long kiss to your lips, smiling down at you. “Took your punishment so well princess,” he rasped, making your mind sing and your cunt drip.

He moves to Seungmin now, whose breathing was still so hard, no actual tears breaking the barrier yet. His thumb rubs over his cheekbone before he kissed him with equal softness. “You were very brave for finishing her punishment baby.” Your heart leaps as you see his breath hitch and his eyes clamp shut at the praise.

“Now that we’ve started to get along again, and aren’t trying to get each other in trouble, you can work together now.” he says, hands going to the waist of his sweats, pushing them to the floor along with his underwear, disappearing into the abyss of your room with his shirt. The room that is getting a little hazy along your peripherals now that all your attention is on the thick cock now exposed in front of you.

Your mouth watered at the sight, having to clench your legs together to get some sort of friction as you remember exactly how it feels to have him stretch you out. Out of the corner of your eye you see Seungmin’s cock bob, his stomach flexing, clearly recollecting the same.

He takes a precise step forward, moving so his cock is between you both. “Get to it angels.”

You don’t have to be told twice, both of you moving up on your knees so your mouths could reach him. Your tied hands lean on one of his solid thighs for balance, Seungmin doing the same on the other side.

You press a kiss to his hip bone, pecking down his pelvis until your lips are at the base of his shaft. Your tongue dances along the underside of his hard length as Seungmin’s tongue tentatively licked at his tip, your well orchestrated movements making him take in a sharp breath.

His hips jolt forward when you swap places, Seungmin’s tongue wrapping along the underside of his cock, your lips now parting around his tip to take him in, your tongue lapping at the never ending stream of precome. You took a breath before pressing yourself further down his cock, only taking him about half way before pulling up, his thickness was always something you needed to work yourself up to, Seungmin still was not able to take him all the way yet.

You kissed down your side of his shaft, feeling Seungmin mirroring your movements, locking eyes with you as you both kiss the thick base of Changbin’s cock. You slowly move your lips back up, your tongues occasionally meeting on the underside until you reach the tip again, your lips meeting with Seungmin’s around your boyfriend’s fat cock.

Your tongues wrapped around him, chasing each other’s mouths, a mix of salvia and precome running down your chins. Changbin’s hands came up to grip the back of your hair, groaning like he’s in heaven at the sight of you making out around his cock.

His hands flex in your hair, pulling your faces apart to thrust his cock between Seungmin’s swollen lips. Far enough for him to gag on him a few times, tears lining his eyes before he swapped with you. Pushing your head down so that your nose pressed against his lower stomach, his hips twitching into your mouth, his hand pulling at your hair as you swallowed around him. He moaned out a low ‘fuck’ before pulling you off him quickly.

“Up.” he instructed, pushing Seungmin to lie on his back on the bed, his neglected cock leaking down onto his stomach, shifting on the blankets and wincing as his red ass brushes them.

Changbin lifts you easily from where you’re standing beside the bed to place you straddling your boyfriend on the bed, his cock resting between your soaking wet folds. You let out a shaky sigh as the backs of your thighs hit his legs, grinding down on the hard mess beneath you to try and distract you from the pain.

Your boyfriend moves to look at you properly, pushing the hair out of your eyes to look at your fucked out face, his thumb collecting some of the spit and precome mix from your chin to push it into your mouth.

You suck on his thumb and hum around it at his next words. “I need you to ride him princess, you can do that for me right?” He says it so gently you try to nod around his thumb, your shiny eyes soft and loving as you look up at him.

He smiles down at you as he turns to Seungmin, seeing you begin to line up his swollen cock with your dripping entrance. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his plush lips, pulling back to push a stray lock of hair out of his face so he could watch his expression when you begin to sink down on him. He smiles down fondly at the moans spilling out of his mouth when you finally take him to the hilt.

You begin to rock your hips over his, whines leaving your lips at the feeling of being so full combined with the sting of the raised marks on your behind. Your hands meet his chest, his coming to your hips, trying to guide your movements when your thighs become too shaky.

Changbin watches the two of you for a moment, moving your hair away from your shoulder to press a kiss there. “If either of you come, I’m upping it to a month of no coming.” he whispers between you.

You let out a gasp, a mixture of his words and Seungmin angling his hips below you to hit your g-spot. He lets out a strained groan as you clamp down around him, looking up to your smiling boyfriend. “I thought we had been punished.” he says between clenched teeth.

“You’re cute baby, I never said I was finished. You think one spanking and that would be it for the weeks worth of shit you’ve been doing?” he smirks down at him, “Now fuck properly angels.” His hand coming down to slap your ass in motivation.

You let out a shaky breath before raising your hips properly, bouncing on his cock trying to avoid that spot inside you that will make you see stars to try and prevent yourself from coming. You knew Changbin would keep his word, it wouldn’t be the first time. But you also knew he wouldn’t let you half-ass this to try and keep yourselves from finishing.

You tried to breathe as you felt the familiar stirring in your lower stomach, your clit hitting off his pelvis with every downwards movement. Below you, Seungmin couldn’t keep his eyes off you. The way your breasts moved with every bounce, the way your eyes would flutter shut when you sunk all the way to his base, the way your hands were trying to find purchase on anything they could, one landing at the top of his sternum, just below his neck, the other was lower, right over his hip bone.

Changbin’s cock twitched at the sight of you two, both of you finally trying to hard to be good for him, loving how fucked out the two of you looked under his control. Reaching out to move your hand up to around Seungmin’s throat, squeezing your hand lightly around the sides. He pressed over your hand just enough for Min’s eyes to roll into the back of his head, his hips bucking up into you.

Thirty seconds later he was begging to come. “Please, please, please. Fuck. I don’t, I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” You weren’t that much behind him, the feeling of his cock filling you over and over was making you closer every time you sunk down on him. “Fuck bin, please,” he whined, his hands gripping your waist so hard you knew it was going to be bruised in the morning.

You felt your hope shatter when all you heard was a chuckle from your ridiculously hot boyfriend standing beside the bed. “Nope. You decided you were going to fuck around. Now you get to find out. Keep riding princess.”

“No, no, no, oh fuck don’t do that,” he whined out as you accidentally clenched around him.

Changbin moved closer to you, pressing a hot kiss just below your ear. “You look so pretty on top of him, princess. That pretty little cunt of yours making him want to come so quickly.” His hands came to rest just above Seungmin’s on your waist, gliding up to squeeze your breast and pinch your nipple to get you to clamp down on Seungmin inside you. “I wish you were on top of me right now,” he breathed into your ear, pressing one last kiss to your neck before moving his hand down your body to your clit.

Rubbing precise tight circles on it, Seungmin’s moans from under you were drowned out by your whimpers, his fingers always had a way of making you come to your high extra quickly.

“P-please Changbin, I need to come.” you whimpered quietly.

Your boyfriend let out a hum in acknowledgement, “If you want a one month ban from coming, for both of you, you’re more than welcome to come on his cock right now princess.” he answers, as if he’s helping. “If not, you’ll find a way not to come.”

You fight it as best as you can, between you and Seungmin beneath you, you were trying to think about anything that would make you not come right then and there. Old people, math, saying the alphabet backwards. But you couldn’t hold it. And neither could Seungmin.

His hips thrusted just right to pound into that spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head, your clenching walls practically milking him for his come. Neither of you stood a chance.

You bounced on your boyfriend’s cock one last time, feeling his length fill you up to the hilt, Changbin’s fingers still circling your swollen clit mercilessly as you let go, your orgasm crashing over you, your legs shaking on either side of Seungmin’s thighs. That was all it took to have him coming with you, his hips thrusting up to get as deep inside you he could, his hands bruising your hips as you both let out a symphony of moans and whines and cries at the relief.

It took all of thirty seconds for you both to realise that you went against Changbin’s rules again. Thirty seconds when you felt his hand pull away from you, a raspy growl in your ear, and see him pull away from stroking his cock out of the corner of your eye. You made eye contact with a blissed out Seungmin below you, both of you taking a deep breath because if you weren’t fucked at the beginning of this, you certainly were now.

You felt the mattress dip behind you, jostling you still full of Minnie’s cock, his come trying to burst at the seams, making a ring where you were still connected. Your moan was cut off quickly when you felt a strong hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward onto Seungmin’s chest, changing the angle of his cock inside of you.

A whimper leaves your boyfriend’s lips as you both feel the blunt head of Changbin’s thick cock nudge at your already stretched but dripping entrance. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel the initial stretch of him trying to push in alongside Seungmin.

Your nails digging deep into his shoulders, his own grip clenched hard on your sides at the stimulation his cock was getting not even one minute after he had come. You let out a sharp breath when you feel him finally push the head of his thick cock in, trying really hard not to think about how much thicker he gets the further down he goes.

His hand is solid between your shoulder blades, not being able to move from where you were being speared open by your boyfriends even if you wanted to.

Feeling your walls becoming more pliant for him now that you’re relaxing into his touch, he starts to push in properly now, drinking in the whines from the man underneath both of you, listening carefully for any changes in your breath that might tell him you’re not okay.

You end up collapsing on Seungmin’s chest below you when you feel his pelvis hit your ass, his cock now sheathed to the hilt alongside your other very overstimulated boyfriend.

He presses a kiss to the soft spot just below your ear, “You’re taking us so well princess, but I can’t let my angels away too easily for coming without permission.” he breathes, withdrawing his hips to snap them back, filling you quickly before setting a brutal pace.

Neither of you can move. Seungmin is trying to catch his breath at the feeling of his cock getting harder inside you again at the feeling of Changbin’s thrusting beside him. You’re trying not to shake at the overwhelming feeling of just how stretched you were around them both, how Bin’s thrusts were pushing the head of Seungmin’s cock into your g-spot every single time.

Changbin presses a kiss to your exposed neck, not being able to help himself by sucking a dark bruising mark onto it, the sensations making your walls flutter around both of them, causing them both to let out low groans. He smirks into your neck as he reaches around you to pinch Seungmin’s nipple, watching his face as it screws up in pleasure, his hips bucking up into yours. The feeling of them both moving was entirely too much for your already tired cunt.

“You’re both so pretty for me. Lying here taking whatever I’m willing to give you,” he hummed, “If only you would both listen to me, you could be feeling this good all the time.” His fingers drift to your clit, pinching it lightly, just enough to send a shiver down your spine as if to drive home his point.

You couldn’t help but clench down hard on their cocks at the feeling, Seungmin’s moans now a constant stream of cries from his lips. You feel Changbin’s hand move to the back of your head, pushing you down to be level with his face, your lips clumsily moving over each other’s.

“You wanted to play together, you can shut him up.” His hands moved to cover Min’s on your hips, his thrusts now deep and unrelenting. “If you’re not ready to come with me in the next thirty seconds, you won’t get anything again until your month is up.”

You moaned into each other’s mouths, tongues sloppily exploring each other. Hands tightened on your hips, thrusts got harder, and the tension finally broke. 

Seungmin came first. Painting your walls with his come again, pushing himself as deep as he could before letting go. 

Changbin was next. Coming the second he felt your boyfriend’s hot come surrounding his cock inside you.

And you hurtled over the edge into bliss at the feeling of being stuffed full of come from the two people you care for most in this world.

You lay there for a couple of minutes to catch your breath before muscles were beginning to cramp. Changbin pulled out of you oh so gently, his thumb stroking over your back as he did so. His breath shaking slightly as he sees your mixed release running out of your throbbing core.

Seungmin followed quickly after, you completely relaxing against his chest, breath heaving at the feeling of how empty you now were.

The bed dipped as you and Seungmin flitted into your own little overstimulated world, faintly hearing the tap running in the ensuite before you felt a warm washcloth gently wiping at you both, cleaning you up the best he could in your positioning.

You felt your silk ties become loose around your wrists before falling off together, strong sure hands coming to rub gently at them, ensuring proper blood flow. 

He moved slowly but surely, rippling arms moving you on to your front on the soft bedding, feeling him turning Seungmin to, your asses up, hands somehow interlocking to feel some sort of connection as Changbin began to apply cream to your welts.

He slowly kissed up Seungmin’s spine before reaching his face, tilting his head to kiss him properly, “Good job baby, I’m so proud of you.” Seungmin purred happily in response, pressing one last quick peck to his boyfriend’s lips.

He shifted to kiss up your spine next, a shiver running down it when you feel the sincerity of it. Tilting your head to meet his plush lips in a kiss full of reassurance. “You did so well for me princess, took us so well, pushed yourself for us.” You hummed at his words, making you feel a soft bubbly feeling over your body.

You leaned over to kiss Seungmin properly now, pecking him one last time before you grabbed Changbin to lie in between you, snuggling up to him in your cosy bed, ready to ride out your blissed out feeling together.

But you couldn’t help but smirk into his strong arm.

“So what were you saying about one month?”

Tag list: @ikkeawd, @shynotded, @lplondynnwoo, @http-darkhope, @hlanalovelee, @liv123sworld, @rafesbunniebby, @volcanohan

[nctateez]

Corrected

When you and Seungmin keep trying to out brat each other, he has to find ways for you to start working together

pairing: Changbin x fem!reader x Seungmin genre: established relationship, smut smut smut, dom/sub dynamics, does include some mxm content rating: explicit, 18+, minors do not interact word count: 5.6k warnings:  brat!reader, brat!seungmin, brat tamer!changbin, Minnie and reader are switches for each other, subs for bin, trying to get each other in trouble, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. and m. receiving), remote controlled vibrator in public, hand job in public (under a blanket), restraints, spanking with hand, spanking with a belt, nicknames (changbin calls seungmin baby, reader princess, and when addressing both of them he uses angels), changbin is definitely giving soft dom brat tamer energy in this I couldn't help it, making out around bin's cock, light choking, orgasm control, orgasm denial, overstimulation, double penetration (piv), no protection (don't), mxm content (kissing, spanking, oral) A/N: Requests are always open! This may be the most intense thing I've written to date! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Changbin only had three rules for you both. 

Do what he told you to

No playing with each other without him knowing

No coming without his permission

But you couldn’t help it. And Changbin knew you couldn’t help it. Getting together with two switches who keep trying to out brat each other, he knew you would both slip up sooner rather than later.

He knew something was brewing when you started trying to get each other in low-grade trouble with him. ‘She keeps touching me under the table at dinner!’, ‘I walked in on him jerking off!’. He couldn’t help but smirk at your ministrations, and enjoy edging you both until you were crying into each other's necks apologising.

However, after that night, neither of you seemed to want to stop. In fact, you were both now starting to make things more obvious. Changbin coming home from a long day in the studio and you were both suspiciously far apart on the couch, lips swollen, breath heavy. Smirking down at your phones over dinner as you read the filthy text you just sent Seungmin to rile him up, going back and forth until Changbin grabs your phone to read them.

You both began trying to get the other to break rules on purpose so that you could tell Changbin. You palming over Seungmin’s already hard cock when you were out to dinner with the boys, not really being able to outright tell you to stop due to the publicity and prying ears of his friends. Pressing a kiss to his neck as he lets out a strangled whimper and comes in his pants. That one earned him 5 back to back orgasms where he could only watch Changbin fuck you into the mattress. 

Him pushing you back on the couch, pulling your sleep shorts and panties to the side and immediately attaching his soft lips to your clit. Your eyes rolling back as your hand comes to grasp the hair at the back of his neck, pulling his mouth harder against you. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself getting close when he pushed two long fingers into you easily with how wet you were, curling them to make your vision white out. Your legs kicked either side of his broad shoulders, your hands weakly attempting to push him away despite not really wanting to. 

“Stop Min, I’m not allowed to come.” you whine, hips bucking up into his relentless tongue.

He smirked in response into your sopping cunt, sucking your slit harder, pulling you over the edge quickly. That earned you a night of unrelenting edging with a vibrating wand tied to your clit.

He knew you were both long overdue for discipline when you started breaking rules in front of him. It started simple, during sex, Changbin telling you that you need to wait to come and Seungmin is changing the angle of his hips to fuck into your g-spot to make you come without permission. The same thing happening when Seungmin is not allowed to come, you’re clenching your walls and swivelling your hips, putting on a show to make your boyfriend come before he’s allowed to.

The next time it happened it was more obvious. Out to dinner with your two boys, Changbin’s head tilted quizzically at you as he watched you try to stifle a whimper as you’re browsing the menu, seeing Seungmin try to hide a smirk out of the corner of his eye. Seeing your hips gently rocking as they discuss how their weeks have gone, your eyes shut as Seungmin fiddles with something under the table. Changbin caught on quickly to your misbehaviour as he pushed his hand under your dress and very quickly felt the unsanctioned vibrations in your panties. He held his hand out to Seungmin, raising an eyebrow, silently asking him for the remote. You came three times before dessert arrived, Seungmin was only allowed to watch.

The last time was when you were cuddled up on Minho and Jisung’s couch at movie night, to most, you looked sleepy under a soft blanket, but Changbin knew you were up to something. He just didn’t think you’d be this bold in front of the group. Your hand ran up and down Seungmin’s cock underneath the blanket, the music from the movie drowning out any noises coming from your boyfriend's mouth. 

You could feel his eyes on you, Changbin catching your eye then glancing down at your moving arm, then back up.

“Minnie’s cheeks are very red princess, can you check he’s okay?” he asks, but you know the thinly veiled point he’s trying to make. You smile back at him, shaking your head, telling him he feels fine to you.

Changbin moves closer behind you so that your back is flush with his chest, leaning in so that you can both hear his too gentle whisper. “If you make him come right now, neither of you are coming for a week.”

You smirk over at Seungmin and move your hand quicker, your other hand going to his balls to roll them gently as you feel his stomach tighten with your movements. You both look to Seungmin who has his head thrown on the back of the couch, biting the back of his hand to quieten his moans as he comes over your hand.

You hear a short growl in your ear before he speaks directly, “Up. Now. We’re going home.” He pushes himself up from the couch, frustrated tension pulsing from him as he makes his way to the door.

The others don’t question it, the weird tension has been building up for weeks now and they need it over with. They don’t want to keep being a part of something that you all think you’re being slick about. Especially as you lick your hand on the way to the door and Seungmin stutters something out about how it’s probably best he keep Jisung’s favourite faux fur blanket.

~

The car ride home is filled with tension that you’re not sure you want to break. Changbin clutches the steering wheel like it’s going to run away from him, Seungmin was banished to the backseat, and you to the passenger so that there would be no additional teasing on the way home.

Feeling the aura surrounding him, you think it’s worth a shot to try and make it even marginally better for you.

“I’m sorry. I-” Changbin snaps his head to look at you, not needing to say a word for you to quieten, shrinking into the door on your other side, the dominant atmosphere almost suffocating you all.

~

As you all made your way to your bedroom, Changbin moves to the spare room for a minute, letting you enter your bedroom as just the two of you. Standing on the rug at the bottom of the bed, you turned to glance up at Seungmin standing beside you.

“We are so fucked.” you mumble to him quietly.

Seungmin smirks back down at you, “Thank god.”

“Kneel.” You hear coming from the doorway, a shiver running down your spine as you feel him come into the room behind you, both of you dropping to your knees to the plush rug underneath you.

He doesn’t move from behind you, letting you feel the tension rising in the large space. “Hands.” he commands, both of you raising your hands above your head immediately. Not daring to look back at him as he starts to tie soft scarves around Seungmin’s wrists, moving to replicate the turns and beautiful knot to finish it off on your own wrists.

He walked slowly to stand in front of you, eyes wandering your kneeling forms. He lifts his forefinger and flicks it down, and you both lower your arms in front of you. Neither of you are brave enough to make direct eye contact with him yet, your eyes lowered to the fibers beneath his feet.

“You’ve been fucking with me,” he starts, letting out a sigh. “And I don’t know if it’s to get a reaction out of me, or because you enjoy being with each other more than me.”

Both Seungmin and yourself make immediate noises of disagreement at his conclusions, but one look from Changbin has you both silenced.

“Before I start, I need confirmation from both of you that you’re just wanting a reaction.” He turns to you first, nodding for you to talk.

“It’s only for your reaction. It’s been so long since you’ve been in full dom Changbin mode and I just wanted to see it again.” you spoke quickly, trying to calm his assumptions but also the rising hurt in yourself that you let him believe it could be for anything more than to get a reaction from him. He nods at your words and turns to the man beside you.

“I wanted to see her get punished,” he answered smoothly, a light smirk on his face, “And somewhere along the way, I wanted to be too.” he admitted, a blush skirting his cheekbones.

Changbin let out a sigh and nods at your answers, some tension leaving his shoulders and a playful glint beginning to swirl in his darkening eyes. “Perfect, because after all that shit you’ve both pulled, punished is what you’ll be.”

You couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose on your arms at his tone of voice.

“Since you were both in this together, I’m going to let you choose each other’s punishments.” Your eyes widened as you glanced at Seungmin beside you.

Changbin squats down in front of him, pulling his tied wrists closer to him so he can whisper properly in his ear, humming in response.

He moves to you, pulling your wrists so that your hands rest on the rug beneath you, arching your back until your lips were beside his ear. “What’s his punishment, princess?”

Answering with fifteen hits with Changbin’s hand, you feel a smirk in your ear as he pulls back to stand. 

“Interesting. Min, she’s chosen fifteen spanks with my hand,” you hear Seungmin’s breath hitch a little beside you, a muttered apology under his breath. Changbin smirks down at you both. “Why don’t you tell our princess why you’re sorry baby.”

“I also picked fifteen,” he started nervously, not continuing until your other boyfriend prompted him with a, ‘and what did you pick it to be implemented with.’

Seungmin let out a shaky sigh as he broke eye contact with you. “A belt.” he whispered, trying to fold in on himself. Your eyes widened at his answer as he tried to scramble to make it better, “I thought you were going to go hard on me!” he whined before Changbin cut him off.

“Up. Over the bed.”

You shook a little as you got to your feet the best you could with your hands tied in front of you, leaning gracefully over the end of the bed beside each other, hands above your head, face pushed into the mattress. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach clench at the thought of 15 hits with his belt while your partner in crime gets away with only his hand.

He starts with Seungmin, flexing his muscles and pulling not very hard to rip his shirt open before pulling his sweats and boxers down, throwing them to the side. His hand didn’t touch him yet, just sitting on his lower back, just above his ass, watching him tense, not knowing when the first hit was going to land.

“You’ll be a good boy and stay still for me, won’t you baby?” Changbin asks teasingly, running his hand along his spine, Seungmin letting out a shaky breath that is cut off by a pained moan as the first strike lands centre on his ass.

Despite not using an implement, Changbin’s hand can pack quite a sting. His bicep muscles rippling as his hand raised and came down again, admiring the reddening skin below his hand, his other hand coming to press on his lower back due to his squirming, unintentionally pressing his already leaking cock harder into the blankets.

He collapsed onto the bedding as the last strike hit at the tops of his thighs, breathing hard into the blankets.

You feel yourself tense up, knowing your time now is coming. Your fingers tighten in the blanket as you feel him pull your sweats and panties down, throwing them in the same direction he did Min’s. Before reaching his hands around you and ripping your flimsy tank top off your body, feeling his biceps flex against your sides, exposing your breasts to the chill of the cotton below you.

His hand grazed over the perkiness of your ass, giving it a light squeeze before you hear him stand, walking to his drawers and pulling a belt from the top, wrapping it around his hand as he comes back behind you.

“You ready princess?” he asks, smiling down at your breathing getting heavier, “Remember it wasn’t me who chose this punishment.” he breathes into your ear, kissing your cheek before standing upright behind you.

The first crack came unexpectedly, making you let out an ungodly moan of pain, it being so long since he had used his belt on you. He gave you no time in between strikes to breath, the second and third coming down on either side of the first reddening welt across your skin.

Around number five he gives you a small break, letting you catch your breath, running his hand delicately over the raised marks. He watches you closely for any sign of a change in your posture, any bad changes to your breathing, any non verbal signs that you had changed your mind. Seeing none, he continues.

Strikes ten, eleven, and twelve sting down on your thighs in quick succession before he pauses. “I’m going to give you a choice baby,” he says, turning his head to look at your boyfriend who was still bent over the bed beside you, cock hard and leaking between him and the sheets, watching the punishment he bestowed on you.

“Since you were feeling bad for the punishment you chose for our princess, I’m giving you the choice on who gets the last three.” he smirks down at Min’s mouth dropping open a little, his breath hitching. His eyes flit beside him to you on the bed, hands clenched in the sheets, face lined with tears, your body had a slight tremble to it due to the adrenaline rush.

He knew you could take it. You all knew you could take it. Hell, he could double it if he wanted to and you would still be able to take it. But still, he felt bad knowing he got off lightly in comparison.

You meet his eyes over your arms and whisper out, “It’s okay.” But the brattiness leaves his body the second you say it, so softly, knowing this isn’t something he has much experience with compared to you.

But it’s only three. He can do three.

His eyes shift to meet Changbin’s, who has obviously been watching this exchange with curiosity.

“I’ll take them,” he confirms, moving his head back to rest on the bed, his eyes closed in anticipation until he feels a small shift beside him, your tied hand intertwining with his, your glassy eyes looking at him, sparkling.

“Thank you,” you whispered out as his hand tightened around yours when the first crack came down on his ass. The same velocity as yours had been, a choked whine ripping from his lips. They parted in a gasp as the second strike covered the tops of his thighs, before finally he feels the last, angled just so that it hit right on top of the soft plushy part of his ass, right over where he would sit. A strangled moan leaving his lips at how much harder it was than the last two.

Changbin hums from behind you as he drops the belt to the side, “You look so cute when you’re working together, not trying to out-brat each other.” He came close between you, his hands simultaneously run over your sore cheeks.

You both let out a sharp moan when he gives you a small smack with his hand to accompany his demand, “On your knees again.” He steps back to give you the space, standing imposingly above your naked bodies, kneeling hesitantly back so you hurt yourselves less.

Changbin leans down in front of you, his finger tipping your head back to look in his eyes, wiping your tears with such contradicting delicate touches it makes your brain dizzy. He presses a long kiss to your lips, smiling down at you. “Took your punishment so well princess,” he rasped, making your mind sing and your cunt drip.

He moves to Seungmin now, whose breathing was still so hard, no actual tears breaking the barrier yet. His thumb rubs over his cheekbone before he kissed him with equal softness. “You were very brave for finishing her punishment baby.” Your heart leaps as you see his breath hitch and his eyes clamp shut at the praise.

“Now that we’ve started to get along again, and aren’t trying to get each other in trouble, you can work together now.” he says, hands going to the waist of his sweats, pushing them to the floor along with his underwear, disappearing into the abyss of your room with his shirt. The room that is getting a little hazy along your peripherals now that all your attention is on the thick cock now exposed in front of you.

Your mouth watered at the sight, having to clench your legs together to get some sort of friction as you remember exactly how it feels to have him stretch you out. Out of the corner of your eye you see Seungmin’s cock bob, his stomach flexing, clearly recollecting the same.

He takes a precise step forward, moving so his cock is between you both. “Get to it angels.”

You don’t have to be told twice, both of you moving up on your knees so your mouths could reach him. Your tied hands lean on one of his solid thighs for balance, Seungmin doing the same on the other side.

You press a kiss to his hip bone, pecking down his pelvis until your lips are at the base of his shaft. Your tongue dances along the underside of his hard length as Seungmin’s tongue tentatively licked at his tip, your well orchestrated movements making him take in a sharp breath.

His hips jolt forward when you swap places, Seungmin’s tongue wrapping along the underside of his cock, your lips now parting around his tip to take him in, your tongue lapping at the never ending stream of precome. You took a breath before pressing yourself further down his cock, only taking him about half way before pulling up, his thickness was always something you needed to work yourself up to, Seungmin still was not able to take him all the way yet.

You kissed down your side of his shaft, feeling Seungmin mirroring your movements, locking eyes with you as you both kiss the thick base of Changbin’s cock. You slowly move your lips back up, your tongues occasionally meeting on the underside until you reach the tip again, your lips meeting with Seungmin’s around your boyfriend’s fat cock.

Your tongues wrapped around him, chasing each other’s mouths, a mix of salvia and precome running down your chins. Changbin’s hands came up to grip the back of your hair, groaning like he’s in heaven at the sight of you making out around his cock.

His hands flex in your hair, pulling your faces apart to thrust his cock between Seungmin’s swollen lips. Far enough for him to gag on him a few times, tears lining his eyes before he swapped with you. Pushing your head down so that your nose pressed against his lower stomach, his hips twitching into your mouth, his hand pulling at your hair as you swallowed around him. He moaned out a low ‘fuck’ before pulling you off him quickly.

“Up.” he instructed, pushing Seungmin to lie on his back on the bed, his neglected cock leaking down onto his stomach, shifting on the blankets and wincing as his red ass brushes them.

Changbin lifts you easily from where you’re standing beside the bed to place you straddling your boyfriend on the bed, his cock resting between your soaking wet folds. You let out a shaky sigh as the backs of your thighs hit his legs, grinding down on the hard mess beneath you to try and distract you from the pain.

Your boyfriend moves to look at you properly, pushing the hair out of your eyes to look at your fucked out face, his thumb collecting some of the spit and precome mix from your chin to push it into your mouth.

You suck on his thumb and hum around it at his next words. “I need you to ride him princess, you can do that for me right?” He says it so gently you try to nod around his thumb, your shiny eyes soft and loving as you look up at him.

He smiles down at you as he turns to Seungmin, seeing you begin to line up his swollen cock with your dripping entrance. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his plush lips, pulling back to push a stray lock of hair out of his face so he could watch his expression when you begin to sink down on him. He smiles down fondly at the moans spilling out of his mouth when you finally take him to the hilt.

You begin to rock your hips over his, whines leaving your lips at the feeling of being so full combined with the sting of the raised marks on your behind. Your hands meet his chest, his coming to your hips, trying to guide your movements when your thighs become too shaky.

Changbin watches the two of you for a moment, moving your hair away from your shoulder to press a kiss there. “If either of you come, I’m upping it to a month of no coming.” he whispers between you.

You let out a gasp, a mixture of his words and Seungmin angling his hips below you to hit your g-spot. He lets out a strained groan as you clamp down around him, looking up to your smiling boyfriend. “I thought we had been punished.” he says between clenched teeth.

“You’re cute baby, I never said I was finished. You think one spanking and that would be it for the weeks worth of shit you’ve been doing?” he smirks down at him, “Now fuck properly angels.” His hand coming down to slap your ass in motivation.

You let out a shaky breath before raising your hips properly, bouncing on his cock trying to avoid that spot inside you that will make you see stars to try and prevent yourself from coming. You knew Changbin would keep his word, it wouldn’t be the first time. But you also knew he wouldn’t let you half-ass this to try and keep yourselves from finishing.

You tried to breathe as you felt the familiar stirring in your lower stomach, your clit hitting off his pelvis with every downwards movement. Below you, Seungmin couldn’t keep his eyes off you. The way your breasts moved with every bounce, the way your eyes would flutter shut when you sunk all the way to his base, the way your hands were trying to find purchase on anything they could, one landing at the top of his sternum, just below his neck, the other was lower, right over his hip bone.

Changbin’s cock twitched at the sight of you two, both of you finally trying to hard to be good for him, loving how fucked out the two of you looked under his control. Reaching out to move your hand up to around Seungmin’s throat, squeezing your hand lightly around the sides. He pressed over your hand just enough for Min’s eyes to roll into the back of his head, his hips bucking up into you.

Thirty seconds later he was begging to come. “Please, please, please. Fuck. I don’t, I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” You weren’t that much behind him, the feeling of his cock filling you over and over was making you closer every time you sunk down on him. “Fuck bin, please,” he whined, his hands gripping your waist so hard you knew it was going to be bruised in the morning.

You felt your hope shatter when all you heard was a chuckle from your ridiculously hot boyfriend standing beside the bed. “Nope. You decided you were going to fuck around. Now you get to find out. Keep riding princess.”

“No, no, no, oh fuck don’t do that,” he whined out as you accidentally clenched around him.

Changbin moved closer to you, pressing a hot kiss just below your ear. “You look so pretty on top of him, princess. That pretty little cunt of yours making him want to come so quickly.” His hands came to rest just above Seungmin’s on your waist, gliding up to squeeze your breast and pinch your nipple to get you to clamp down on Seungmin inside you. “I wish you were on top of me right now,” he breathed into your ear, pressing one last kiss to your neck before moving his hand down your body to your clit.

Rubbing precise tight circles on it, Seungmin’s moans from under you were drowned out by your whimpers, his fingers always had a way of making you come to your high extra quickly.

“P-please Changbin, I need to come.” you whimpered quietly.

Your boyfriend let out a hum in acknowledgement, “If you want a one month ban from coming, for both of you, you’re more than welcome to come on his cock right now princess.” he answers, as if he’s helping. “If not, you’ll find a way not to come.”

You fight it as best as you can, between you and Seungmin beneath you, you were trying to think about anything that would make you not come right then and there. Old people, math, saying the alphabet backwards. But you couldn’t hold it. And neither could Seungmin.

His hips thrusted just right to pound into that spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head, your clenching walls practically milking him for his come. Neither of you stood a chance.

You bounced on your boyfriend’s cock one last time, feeling his length fill you up to the hilt, Changbin’s fingers still circling your swollen clit mercilessly as you let go, your orgasm crashing over you, your legs shaking on either side of Seungmin’s thighs. That was all it took to have him coming with you, his hips thrusting up to get as deep inside you he could, his hands bruising your hips as you both let out a symphony of moans and whines and cries at the relief.

It took all of thirty seconds for you both to realise that you went against Changbin’s rules again. Thirty seconds when you felt his hand pull away from you, a raspy growl in your ear, and see him pull away from stroking his cock out of the corner of your eye. You made eye contact with a blissed out Seungmin below you, both of you taking a deep breath because if you weren’t fucked at the beginning of this, you certainly were now.

You felt the mattress dip behind you, jostling you still full of Minnie’s cock, his come trying to burst at the seams, making a ring where you were still connected. Your moan was cut off quickly when you felt a strong hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward onto Seungmin’s chest, changing the angle of his cock inside of you.

A whimper leaves your boyfriend’s lips as you both feel the blunt head of Changbin’s thick cock nudge at your already stretched but dripping entrance. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel the initial stretch of him trying to push in alongside Seungmin.

Your nails digging deep into his shoulders, his own grip clenched hard on your sides at the stimulation his cock was getting not even one minute after he had come. You let out a sharp breath when you feel him finally push the head of his thick cock in, trying really hard not to think about how much thicker he gets the further down he goes.

His hand is solid between your shoulder blades, not being able to move from where you were being speared open by your boyfriends even if you wanted to.

Feeling your walls becoming more pliant for him now that you’re relaxing into his touch, he starts to push in properly now, drinking in the whines from the man underneath both of you, listening carefully for any changes in your breath that might tell him you’re not okay.

You end up collapsing on Seungmin’s chest below you when you feel his pelvis hit your ass, his cock now sheathed to the hilt alongside your other very overstimulated boyfriend.

He presses a kiss to the soft spot just below your ear, “You’re taking us so well princess, but I can’t let my angels away too easily for coming without permission.” he breathes, withdrawing his hips to snap them back, filling you quickly before setting a brutal pace.

Neither of you can move. Seungmin is trying to catch his breath at the feeling of his cock getting harder inside you again at the feeling of Changbin’s thrusting beside him. You’re trying not to shake at the overwhelming feeling of just how stretched you were around them both, how Bin’s thrusts were pushing the head of Seungmin’s cock into your g-spot every single time.

Changbin presses a kiss to your exposed neck, not being able to help himself by sucking a dark bruising mark onto it, the sensations making your walls flutter around both of them, causing them both to let out low groans. He smirks into your neck as he reaches around you to pinch Seungmin’s nipple, watching his face as it screws up in pleasure, his hips bucking up into yours. The feeling of them both moving was entirely too much for your already tired cunt.

“You’re both so pretty for me. Lying here taking whatever I’m willing to give you,” he hummed, “If only you would both listen to me, you could be feeling this good all the time.” His fingers drift to your clit, pinching it lightly, just enough to send a shiver down your spine as if to drive home his point.

You couldn’t help but clench down hard on their cocks at the feeling, Seungmin’s moans now a constant stream of cries from his lips. You feel Changbin’s hand move to the back of your head, pushing you down to be level with his face, your lips clumsily moving over each other’s.

“You wanted to play together, you can shut him up.” His hands moved to cover Min’s on your hips, his thrusts now deep and unrelenting. “If you’re not ready to come with me in the next thirty seconds, you won’t get anything again until your month is up.”

You moaned into each other’s mouths, tongues sloppily exploring each other. Hands tightened on your hips, thrusts got harder, and the tension finally broke. 

Seungmin came first. Painting your walls with his come again, pushing himself as deep as he could before letting go. 

Changbin was next. Coming the second he felt your boyfriend’s hot come surrounding his cock inside you.

And you hurtled over the edge into bliss at the feeling of being stuffed full of come from the two people you care for most in this world.

You lay there for a couple of minutes to catch your breath before muscles were beginning to cramp. Changbin pulled out of you oh so gently, his thumb stroking over your back as he did so. His breath shaking slightly as he sees your mixed release running out of your throbbing core.

Seungmin followed quickly after, you completely relaxing against his chest, breath heaving at the feeling of how empty you now were.

The bed dipped as you and Seungmin flitted into your own little overstimulated world, faintly hearing the tap running in the ensuite before you felt a warm washcloth gently wiping at you both, cleaning you up the best he could in your positioning.

You felt your silk ties become loose around your wrists before falling off together, strong sure hands coming to rub gently at them, ensuring proper blood flow. 

He moved slowly but surely, rippling arms moving you on to your front on the soft bedding, feeling him turning Seungmin to, your asses up, hands somehow interlocking to feel some sort of connection as Changbin began to apply cream to your welts.

He slowly kissed up Seungmin’s spine before reaching his face, tilting his head to kiss him properly, “Good job baby, I’m so proud of you.” Seungmin purred happily in response, pressing one last quick peck to his boyfriend’s lips.

He shifted to kiss up your spine next, a shiver running down it when you feel the sincerity of it. Tilting your head to meet his plush lips in a kiss full of reassurance. “You did so well for me princess, took us so well, pushed yourself for us.” You hummed at his words, making you feel a soft bubbly feeling over your body.

You leaned over to kiss Seungmin properly now, pecking him one last time before you grabbed Changbin to lie in between you, snuggling up to him in your cosy bed, ready to ride out your blissed out feeling together.

But you couldn’t help but smirk into his strong arm.

“So what were you saying about one month?”

Tag list: @ikkeawd, @shynotded, @lplondynnwoo, @http-darkhope, @hlanalovelee, @liv123sworld, @rafesbunniebby, @volcanohan

[deadpanjisung]

⌞did you get that picture?⌝ || pt. 1

pairing: bf!changbin x gf!reader x perv!hyunjin

MDNI!!! this is an 18+ blog

synopsis: it started with a vinyl, proceeded with an infatuation

genre: smut!!

cw: perversion, kinda voyeurism, hyunjin has an active imagination, fantasizing, masturbation (m. rec)

wc: 2.7k

a/n: my blog got hacked earlier this year, this was originally posted somewhere during 2025. so this is a re-uploaded fic (:

Hyunjin stepped into Changbin’s room, determined to finally agree on a record to borrow whilst he painted. Changbin took pride in his extensive vinyl record collection, he had carefully picked each and every record there and ordered them the way he saw fit. It was perfect in his eyes. Naturally, Hyunjin was ecstatic when Changbin finally let him near his extensive collection. Just as Hyunjin came in, Changbin stepped out to answer a phone call that Hyunjin could assume was from you or Chan. 

“Pick whatever you want, just return it as is. No scratches or you’ll have to replace it, okay?” Changbin warned before leaving. 

Hyunjin nodded. He himself didn’t really understand the protectiveness, but he knew they meant a lot to his dorm mate. He’d always do his best for him. His eyes scanned the records, afraid to even touch them. But he couldn’t tell most of them apart, the thinness of the albums  didn’t make much room for the titles to be printed on their sides. 

He sat crosslegged still scanning the albums, until he saw Pink Floyd’s The Wall. The rock opera he had wanted to listen to forever. He knew it would sound even more sick on record. His fingers gently took the album out from its place and opened it. He was astounded at how pretty it was on the inside, much more intricate than other record’s he had seen. Hyunjin took out the first record, something falling from the sleeve. He was so used to photo cards that he didn’t even mind the polaroid that fell from it. Until he remembered how meticulous Changbin was when it came to his collection. His hands reached for the polaroid, curious on why the album had one in the first place. He turned it around.

It was you.

Your naked body, kneeling on Changbin’s bed —the bed that was right next to him as he stared at it. He let out an audible gasp and quickly placed the record inside of the album —not even noticing the polaroid was still in between his fingers. He placed the album on the self, now gaining consciousness of the picture in his free hand. Then, he heard footsteps. In a panic, Hyunjin shoved the picture into one of his pockets. 

“Did you have anything in mind?” Changbin asked, popping his head into the room.

“I think I’ll go with Definitely Maybe, you know…Oasis. It’s been a while since I’ve heard it.” Hyunjin replied. Changbin entered the room with a grin, which made Hyunjin sweat. “…Or do you have any recs?”

“Ah, anything but The Wall… Y/N broke one of the discs and she’s been looking for a replacement.” Changbin lied. Hyunjin might’ve bought the lie if he hadn’t seen the picture that was currently sitting incriminatingly in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to listen to it when you get the replacement.” Hyunjin said as Changbin’s stubby fingers took Definitely Maybe out of its placement on the shelf.

“Here you go!” Changbin said, signaling Hyunjin to take the record. Hyunjin nodded, whispering a quiet thank you; standing up to leave that room, nearly shaking. “Oh, and Hyunjin?” He looked back at his dorm mate. “Don’t scratch it.” He nodded. 

Hyunjin closed his room’s door abruptly, cursing himself for asking to borrow a record and for owning a record player with nearly no records in attempts to impress his hyung. He banged his head on the wall, pondering about how he’d return the picture without getting caught or Changbin noticing it was missing in the first place. Hyunjin rarely visited his hyung’s room, instead they met up in the living room or the times that Changbin barged into his room to stare at Hyunjin as he watched k-dramas or painted. The only thing Hyunjin had in his favor was that Changbin was a generally busy guy, he barely spent any time at the dorm; opposed to Hyunjin who wouldn’t go out, aside from work, unless it was a hundred percent necessary. 

Hyunjin carefully placed the vinyl on his own record player, knowing that the silence would seem suspicious. Especially since Hyunjin practically begged Changbin to let him borrow an album for weeks until he agreed. Hyunjin sat down at his desk, dragging his hands through his hair and profoundly sighing before reaching into his pocket. 

Hyunjin didn’t even want to look at it, but his eyes betrayed him. He could make out your naked body— uneven breasts, the soft dips of your hips, your pussy glistening. The lights were dimmed, only pink led lights complemented your figure. Your expression was sultry, lips pursed, makeup smudged. His mind wondered before he could stop it. 

What was the context behind it? Did Changbin ask you to take the picture? Was it your idea? Did you have sex before taking it? Does Changbin use it often? Why was it hidden in that particular album? Was he in the dorm when you took it?

He thought that perhaps it had happened when Hyunjin was attending a solo schedule, you had stayed over like you did on the weekends. You were about to have sex when Changbin asked for something to take on tour with him. You were probably confused —if it hadn’t been your idea. Changbin took the photo. He probably placed it in his wallet and you scolded him, asking him to hide it in a better place. You probably liked Pink Floyd too. Or maybe you chose that album because the lights were pink. Or maybe he chose it because it reminded him of you. Hey You seemed like an appropriate song for that. At least that’s what he felt. He didn’t know you all that well. You were his hyung’s nice girlfriend who got him into music. Maybe Young Lust would be a more valid song to describe how he was feeling. His body betrayed him, objectifying you —because you looked like art to him. 

He wanted to see a three dimensional version of you like that… to paint you in every angle so he didn’t forget the vision in front of him. He very well understood why the picture was taken. He would be shocked if there weren’t more pictures like those lying around his hyung’s room. He felt his cock harden beneath the fabric of his sweats. More so because of the scenario he was imagining, but your nakedness didn’t help his cause. He needed an outlet to manifest those feelings onto. 

Therefore, he painted you. He didn’t usually paint people he knew; he thought that he couldn’t do them justice. Especially not when the reference was just a picture. A picture with a story that he wasn’t aware of. That was a double edged sword for him. Hyunjin had an overactive imagination —not knowing the story gave him creative freedom. 

He painted different scenarios; one where you asked Changbin to take the picture, one where he asked you, one before sex, one after sex, one where he was the one taking the picture, one where the picture was meant for him to find it. And he got carried away, including himself in his drawings along with you and Changbin.

And he knew that he took it too far, because he didn’t want to look at his hyung in the eye the next morning. 

And he kept your polaroid in plain sight, face down beneath his phone case, ignoring his initial plan of returning it. Changbin hadn’t asked for it anyways. He didn’t even know it was gone. Hyunjin would die for a picture like that one, and his hyung didn’t even appreciate it. He understood, though. Changbin could look at the real you whenever he desired. He could touch you. Kiss you. Make love to you. Paint you with his cum. Inside and out. Just like Hyunjin had sketched, drawn, and painted; something that he could never experience firsthand. 

He blushed furiously whenever he saw you, barely muttering small talk when Changbin left you two alone. And you were oblivious to his fixation on you, oblivious to his permanent erection when he was in close proximity. You smiled at him, yapping about your day. He memorized everything, the way that your lips pursed and pouted, your hand movements, how you styled your hair, the cleavage visible under your shirts. He knew it all by memory. He learned that you were more interesting than he had given you credit for. He never really attempted to be your friend. To him, you were an extension of your boyfriend. Not anymore, though. He learned that you loved music. You were hilarious too. You had been a trainee when you were a teenager but decided that it wasn’t for you. You didn’t enjoy the spotlight. 

What had started as a mere lustful fixation became more complex. He wanted to have you over at the dorm; he craved for those moments when his hyung would leave you two alone. He became fixated on your presence… sometimes even forgetting about the polaroid on his phone. He started looking at Changbin differently, too. He never imagined that Changbin would be into taking nudes. He started wondering if he had many on his phone…and what else was he into. What else was happening in the room next door at night…

Hyunjin had given it his all. He had painted you in every position he could think of. Alone. With Changbin. With Himself. He had explored different mediums. Oil. Sketching. Watercolors. Digital. He tried his hand at different art movements. Nothing would satiate the yearning in the pit of his stomach. He painted you by memory; not even glancing at the polaroid in weeks at a time.Your visits became more frequent too. 

You were more comfortable with spending time at the dorm because he had finally made you feel welcome. Your choice of clothing became more bold too… hanging around in a sports bra and shorts or oversized t-shirts and underwear. And Changbin didn’t seem to mind either. He didn’t care that you were half naked, speaking to Hyunjin for half of the day. Hyunjin couldn’t take it. He knew that it wasn’t your fault, he was at fault in every possible way for being a pervert. You were just existing —being yourself. You and Changbin trusted him, and he betrayed you instead. 

He kept your sketches and paintings hidden away in his vanity after he finished them. 

Something broke in him one night —you and Changbin’s fourth anniversary. Hyunjin wasn’t supposed to be home that night. Jeongin had invited him to play video games at his own dorm and he had agreed to go, knowing that it was your anniversary. Jeongin cancelled last minute and Hyunjin was left to witness your beauty in silent envy. You barged into the apartment wearing the most gorgeous dress he had ever seen…low-cut, sleek, red and elegant. He couldn’t believe that you weren’t going to a gala with a look like that one. 

“Hi, Hyunjin. Do you know if Bin’s ready?” You asked, casually, as if you weren’t an actual goddess to him.

“Uh… I think he’s still showering.” He replied, trying to avert his gaze from the valley of your breasts. You sighed. 

“Ugh! Promise me you’ll never make a girl wait on your anniversary, please.” You added, he nodded. Not that he could ever make you wait. He’d be at your feet all night and day. But Changbin was different, disciplined. Hyunjin knew that he had gotten caught up at the studio and that it wasn’t his hyung’s fault that he was late. 

“I promise. But, hyung wanted to be early, I swear. One of the computers erased a track and he had to stay back…” Hyunjin found himself overexplaining to you. You chuckled. 

“You don’t have to cover for him, you know?” You said. “He already told me. I’m just moody because of the dress. I don’t think it looks good.” You paused. “Does it?” Bold and direct.

“Yeah, you look beautiful. Hyung’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.” He replied. 

“You think so? I thought that spark had died down a few years ago.”

“I know so. He’s crazy for you.” Hyunjin said with a smile. “All he does is talk about his amazing girlfriend and how proud he is of everything she’s achieved.” 

He wasn’t just projecting his own feelings. He knew for a fact that Changbin was still as smitten with you as when he first started talking about you. Which made everything more absurd to him, his hyung wasn’t a bad boyfriend… he wasn’t undeserving of you. He was warm and kind and loving and admirable, especially when it came to you. 

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him. “He loves you a lot, too. I didn’t really get it before, no offense, but I do now.”

Hyunjin felt his heart sink at that comment. He excused himself and wished you a happy anniversary, taking a good look at you before returning to his room. Changbin loved him and he returned that love with sassy remarks, fake disengagement, and thirsting over his wonderful girlfriend. And you trusted him to give you his opinion about the dress oblivious to the fact that he’d rather see you without it. 

When Hyunjin thought of you, his cock immediately hardened; he had managed to suppress his boners without actually jerking off to you. Instead, he painted you, he created stupid little scenarios or he wrote poems about everything. He still owed you and Changbin that respect. That night, a thought slipped through his mind, because what if he wanted you so badly because he had never physically let himself go at the thought of you. Hyunjin felt like that was an epiphany, a revelation. 

Hyunjin set the mood in the room: dimmed pink lights, a vanilla-rose candle was lit, he changed his bedsheets to some silk ones that Versace had gifted him. He wanted to properly let go of all that pent up energy. He laid down on his bed, unsure of how to initiate such an important moment for him. The bed suddenly felt to big for him. His hand travelled down his bare torso, through the lean muscles of his abdomen and found itself beneath the fabric of his underwear. His fingers wrapped around the girth of his cock, slowly lowering his underwear so it would spring free.

His cock was throbbing, pre-cum pooled down its shaft. Hyunjin became aware that he had neglected it for too long. Hyunjin had yearned through so many mediums that he forgot to attend his most primal sexual need. His thumb softly rubbed his tip, making him suppress a moan. His slender fingers, then, worked around his shaft, moving up and down at a slow pace. Whilst you plagued his mind, the forgotten polaroid on his phone case, you in your beautiful dress with your beautiful breasts almost popping out. He hoped that Changbin would treat you right tonight, that he worshipped you as his hand fisted his cock to the image of you getting pounded by his hyung… and by him… at the same time. He felt his climax approaching, hands caressing his heavy balls but he held off. He needed to feel you more deeply. This was the only time he’d let himself do this. He imagined you on top of him, his mouth wrapped around one of your breasts, whilst his hands helped you grind your hips onto his. 

Hyunjin started moaning your name without even noticing. The pleasure that his hand mixed with fantasy provided became his sole focus. And he swore that he could feel your warm, wet cunt wrapped around him before seeing the whole universe as he released thick, ardent, spurts of his cum into his fist. And he also felt that he had released so much more than cum, but also his emotional obsession with your being. That was until the door creaked with a soft whisper of…

“Hyunjin?” 

with a seductive smirk across your face.

Ooh, baby, set me free.

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oh im a BIG fan of this