no1 P1H gooner

[honeyedchans]

clearing the air — s.mingi [18+]

☆ pairing — song mingi x fem!reader ☆ synopsis — Stoner!Mingi is your new neighbour. You moved in over the Summer, and spent the season developing an innocent little crush on the guy you keep catching smoking on his balcony. But now that it's gotten cold out, he's taken to smoking inside. And his shit's loud. You don't want to be a snitch and rat him out to their landlord, so you tries to bring it to him directly. And oh fuck he's hot, adorable & he's offering to smoke you out as an apology, because he can't just smoke outside when it's this frigid out he's so sensitive— you get it right? ☆ genre — fluff, smut, mostly pwp, strangers/neighbours to lovers, kinda idiots to lovers vibes ☆ word count — 8.5k+ ☆ warnings — smut! 18! kinda pwp... there's a couple thousand words of lead up... oops... recreational marijuana use by both mingi + reader, mingi is whiny & pathetic... uhm obviously..., reader is also whiny and pathetic though so yknow, size difference stuff, reader is described as shorter/smaller than mingi, switchy but mostly subby!mingi, switchy but mostly sub!reader, so it's kinda two desperate subs i'm sorry but i love this dynamic okay, mingi is a munch duh, oral sex (fem receiving), pussydrunk!mingi, nasty!mingi, oralfixation!mingi bigdick!mingi, overstimulation, grinding/dry humping, drawn out make out sesh, piv, unprotected sex bc they're irresponsible, just two horny high idiots really, mention at the end of who might be in a possible sequel to this.... wtver....

☆ mdni ☆ you are responsible for the content you consume ☆ ageless blogs will be blocked ☆ [a/n]: hihi.. first fic on this blog finally,,, i've been set up here for a while but now i'm ready to come back to this space! i used to write for bts then bts/svt but that was forever ago and i think im mostly going to be writing for ateez and stray kidz? i have a lot planned, many ridiculous wips... anywayssss thanks for reading i havent written fic for any fandom in literal years so im kinda terrified but i can't avoid this anymore haah- this is also unedited so if you notice any glaring mistakes/inconsistencies pls lemme know! ty!!!! <3 - honey

You love your new apartment. At least, you love it in comparison to your last place, a nightmarish shoebox with horrific neighbours and peeling walls. But even your friends took care to fawn over your new digs while helping you move in, Wooyoung making sure that you understood how big of a moment this was for you. He even spied out the eye candy that lives just next door; he told you all about your new neighbour who smiled and waved awkwardly at him and San as they were hoisting your couch through the door. 

And he wasn't wrong– the man is beanstalk-tall and so fucking wide. A braver woman than you certainly would have hit on him by now, drawn in by the wide smile he gives you as he shoulders into the elevator behind you and exchanges good-natured, earnest pleasantries with you. You hope you answer his how's your week been with a smooth nonchalance that distracts him from the way you're smiling way too big to be passed off as anything near casual. He tells you silly stories about his job as a dance coach at the local studio and looks genuinely satisfied when he gets a laugh out of you. The pair of you comfortably settle into a place somewhere between 'just neighbours' and 'friends' lined with a flirtatious tension neither of you dares to bring up– and it works.

You even get to share some gentle mornings together, each of you out on your own balconies. You, with your cup of homemade iced latte and him rolling a joint on the too-tiny table he stuck out there for that sole purpose, his knees knocking against the underside of it nearly every time he shifts his legs. The first time you catch him, tongue halfway across the rolled paper, he has the wherewithal to at least look sheepish and he lets out a visible sigh of relief when you just laugh and take your own seat. You steal furtive glances over whatever book you brought out to watch him as he smokes, gradually sinking into his seat and you let yourself fantasize about him sneaking looks over at you in between tokes. It's fun to have a cute little puppy crush, you decide, even if it doesn't go anywhere, and Mingi's a great recipient. 

So of course he has to go and ruin it.

"When did you start smoking weed again?" Wooyoung wrinkles his nose as he pulls off his parka and lets you lock the door behind him. "Don't think I've seen you smoke since college. You’d better share, that's so-" 

You interrupt him with a frustrated groan. "I didn't Wooyoung- that's from next door," you stomp petulantly to your kitchen, leaving your friend to follow in your frustrated wake. "I didn't realize when he kept it to the balcony but whatever fucked up strain he smokes is seeping into the walls, I swear."

Wooyoung places the Chinese takeout he brought on the kitchen counter, shaking excess snow out of his hair. You hand him a plate and a pair of chopsticks and he lets out a faux-contemplative puff of air before he replies, "Well… he had to have like a flaw right? Inconsiderate stoner is annoying sure, but I bet I can whip him into shape." He grins wickedly and punctures his sentence by snapping his chopsticks at you. "Still hot, unfortunately. Saw him heading out on my way up and he manages to be enticing even in an extra-long puffer coat."

"Ugh, whatever," except it's not whatever because you know the coat Wooyoung's talking about and Mingi doeslook so adorable in it, especially because it's oversized and he pulls up the hood and smiles at you until his eyes disappear and nuzzles his face into the pulled up collar. "Whatever," you repeat, shaking your head like it'll shake out the image of Mingi all bundled up in his Winter get up. "It doesn't matter how cute he is-"

"Okay, so I said hot."

"It doesn't matter!" Maybe if you say it a couple dozen more times it'll come true. "Because there is nothing cute or hot about being an inconsiderate jackass. It's starting to get into my clothes, Wooyoung. I have a job where I need to maintain like, a modicum of professionalism. I can't show up smelling like weed."

"We're slipping into old man shakes fist at cloud territory here, princess," Wooyoung is gentle with you even in his teasing, knowing first hand how you can work yourself into a frenzy with little encouragement– or, on your worst days, no encouragement at all. "Like, you're not wrong, but let's reel it back before you commit full on arson on the building you're also living in."

The two of you have gradually migrated to the couch, letting episodes of a familiar sitcom drone on in the background. And having Wooyoung around is so lovely because no one else would let you whine like this, and before you know it the cups of hot and sour soup are empty and you're bitching and moaning about Mingi again. It doesn't help that it's nearing the time of night when he tends to spark up again, so you know the smell that had somewhat faded since this morning is about to come back with a dank vengeance. 

"I know it's lame or whatever to complain about someone lighting up in their own home," you mumble out around a bite of springroll, its crispiness doing wonders to settle you down. "I thought he was like a thoughtful guy though, you know? It's kinda disappointing. He really is just a man."

Wooyoung scoffs out a laugh, "Well, I could've told you that. I've definitely seen him scratch his balls in the elevator."

"Ew, stop, the illusion's already been shattered."

He only laughs as he grabs the two fortune cookies from the takeout bag and tosses one at you. He doesn't bother to apologize when you don't react quick enough to catch it, the crinkly wrapping paper hitting you square in the forehead. He's already munching away at his cookie, cheeks puffed out. "Mine says that beauty is often mistakenly valued above wisdom… so. A lie. Does yours say anything about fucking your sexy neighbour and stealing his weed?"

The air outside has settled at a bitter, bone-chilling cold. You've taken to wearing two pairs of socks most days in hope of conserving the heat as you trudge to the subway every morning. The scarf you knit last year that made you officially abandon your knitting needles has made a surprise reappearance in your daily rotation. And Mingi is still huffing away next door more days than not, stinking up your apartment like the worst Bath & Body Works candle imaginable. 

San suggested going to your landlord- and he nodded solemnly when you said absolutely not because you're no snitch. But you hate, hate, hate the way you still reek with the stuff even when you're blocks away, overpowering any perfume you own. You’ve also wasted a lot of your favourite perfumes.

You have to say something to Mingi. Directly. Direct confrontation. Oh god.

Your feet carried you to his door before you can reconsider. The door is normal, unassuming. Why wouldn't it be? It’s the same as yours, just six feet to the left. Did you expect it to look different? An evil, anxious bug in the back of your mind wonders if he's watching you just stare at his door through his peephole, wondering why his skittish neighbour is lurking outside his apartment. The visual is so harrowing that you finally commit to knocking before it can become a reality.

There's a moment of quiet– then, distantly, a crash, a cough and heavy footsteps that creep closer. And then he's opening the door, and there he is, tall but not quite imposing, eyebrows furrowed in confusion that only serves to make him even more endearing.

His expression brightens when he realizes it's you. You wonder, fleetingly, if he's doing this on purpose, because gosh, that smile nearly makes you forgive him right then and there. "Neighbour!" he chirps, like he really is excited to see you. Earnest, he’s really very earnest."This is new."

Right, you're crossing into untreated territory here and for a moment you feel a sense of embarrassment– but that fades quickly into indignation. He crossed that boundary first. His stink is in your home! "Yes, right, hi," terrible start. "Mingi, hi. Hi." Woof.

"…Hi?" If there is a god, he'd strike you with lightning and take you out with a swiftness.

"Hi, sorry," you shake your head at yourself like it'll physically snap you back to reality. "I hope you're not, like, busy or anything, I can totally come back later or tomorrow, even."

He's still smiling at you like that and he cocks his head at your words. "No, not busy. Just, y'know, winding down after work, yeah?" he says it like it's an inside joke. He settled into familiarity with you so quickly, you’ve allowed yourself to wonder before if that’s just what he’s like or if that’s what he’s like with you.

"Yeah," your hands busy themselves in the pocket of your oversized sweater- he brought it up himself, perfect, now you just have to commit. "Winding down, right- look, Mingi, I don't wanna be a shitty neighbour, really-"

"You're a great neighbour," he interrupts, not realizing he's super not helping.

"Oh! Oh, thanks, you've been… swell," swell?! "Except, there's just, it's really just this one thing, and I really wouldn't bring this up otherwise, and I'm not, like, judging or anything-"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, well not really it's just…" you're scrambling, that much is clear.

"Hey, I'm really sorry if I did something to upset you, I mean it, It’s just, I don't even know-"

"Mingi, you stink!"

Not great. He's staring at you in genuine shock, mouth in a little 'O' shape. You'd think he was actually frozen if it weren't for the shock of bright red that creeps up his ears. "Not like you stink," oh god, you've fucked this. Like really, actually fucked it. Royally. "Like, when you smoke. Inside. It stinks. It stinks up everything. It gets into my clothes. It gets into my hair, Mingi," you're whining now, a petulant child insisting she's right. But you are, of course, right, is the thing. "And I don't mind it, like, fundamentally and I meant it, I'm not judging you but god your shit's loud and I can't deal with it all the time, you know?" Your hands have come up to cover your eyes. Maybe when you take them down, Mingi will have disappeared and he'll have been a projection of your single, horny brain all these months.

And then Mingi starts giggling. Honest to god, giggling. "Oh, little neighbour," he coos at you and his hands, massive but purposely gentle, come up to grasp at your wrists and pull them away from your face. And he's still there. Obviously. "Shit," he sighs. "I'm sorry, little neighbour. I just– I run so cold, yeah? I'm real sensitive– like, when it's this nasty cold outside." You nod along and pretend not to notice that he hasn't let go of your wrists. His hands are warm. 

"I guess I'm a little nose blind to my own shit though, I really didn't think it'd be so bad," he chuckles at himself. "My friends joke about me reeking of the stuff but I thought they were just being assholes. Huh… guess I was the asshole the whole time, huh?"

You shake your head, almost on instinct. "No, really it's fine– I mean, I was getting mildly annoyed, sure," holy understatement. "But I wasn't about to rat you out or anything. Just... I don't know…" You're running out of gas now, turning sheepish and wrinkling your nose at yourself.

"Hey, hey," he lets go of your wrists and uses one big hand to ruffle at your hair like a cranky kitten. "You've every right to your annoyance, neighbour. I really am sorry. Listen, I'll uh, I'll start smoking like on the way to the grocery store and shit like that. Or I'll get a vape. Something, I don't know," he laughs out a breath and leans against the doorframe. "Really, I've been trying to be the perfect neighbour for you this whole time– turns out all I had to do to get you to finally knock is stink up the whole place, huh?"

You… you think that he might be flirting with you now. You can't be sure because you're still kind of reeling from your own faux pas. "The smell's not that bad," you concede. "I mean it's… a lot. I used to smoke kinda regularly, like, in college. It's just the sheer amount- I mean, my god, Mingi, you're a fucking chimney."

This time when he laughs, you let yourself laugh with him. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," he's smiling that bright, sunshiney, power the city for generations smile again. "Okay-" he claps his hands and you startle at the noise, making him laugh again. 

"An idea! I have an idea." You give him a worried look and he lays a hand on your shoulder that you think he means to settle you, but you feel heat spread all over. Was he always this touchy? "I owe you an apology, obviously," you go to interrupt but he carries on. "No, no, I do, you can't change my mind about this." The firey determination that sparks up in his expressive eyes all but confirms this. "So– let's stink up this floor one more time. I smoke you out, you can raid my fridge for whatever snacks you want and I'll even order you some candles to clear out the lingering scent. And then I commit to smoking out in the cold for the rest of my mortal, pathetic life."

Turns out Mingi is a very difficult person to say no to. Not that you tried very hard, of course. One glance at those puppy eyes and you crumbled. He's got a classic mid-2000's comedy on– he said it was one of his favourites and you wished you'd taken a picture of the way his eyes lit up when you quoted it back to him. You'd bonded over your favourite stupid bits from stupid movies. He's kinda nerdy, you've realized as he recites full scenes from movies you've not seen in over a decade. 

"Your couch is comfier than mine," you muse absentmindedly, head propped up by your hands, elbows on your knees. You're watching Mingi roll two joints in succession– the action not necessarily a new sight to you, but you've never had blanket permission to sit and stare at him while he does it. It's mesmerizing, like pretty much everything else he does.

"Yeah? Well, get as comfy as you'd like, little neighbour," his smiles are always so genuine for you. "Hope everything else is to your liking?" There's a twinkle in his eye too, a secret ask behind his words.

"Everything's good, Mingi."

"Only good?" He's pouting now. His most devious trick yet. You don't respond, you can't fall into his trap this early. Instead you take a sip from the canned iced tea you stole from his well-stocked fridge. He hums petulantly at your silence, and places one of the two spliffs into the ashtray shaped like an eight ball. He pops the other one into his mouth and rises to his full, staggering height. He's so tall he casts a shadow over you by way of the the sun setting through the window behind him. He stretches his arms over his head with an exaggerated grunt and the fabric of his t-shirt slides up at the waist, teasing you with a slutty sliver of skin. He's a little bit evil you're pretty sure now. You lean back and properly settle into the couch to shamelessly enjoy the view while he isn't looking at you.

He flops onto the- very large, very comfortable- couch next to you with a shocking level of grace. He's not quite close enough that any part of you is touching but he's certainly not far away. He fished into the deep pocket of a cargo pants for a lighter and he makes a slow purposeful show of flicking it on and bringing it to the jay lazily hanging out of his pouty lips. He breaths in deep, chest expanding and he lights it properly, eyes sliding closed.

He takes a few more slow pulls, smoke billowing out of pursed lips– and you let him because, wow, what a show. You do scramble to gain control yourself eventually. "You're smoking my apology."

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, meeting your gaze again. You nearly gasp. He's already heavily lidded, a sluggish smile working it's way across his mouth. "Shit, my bad, pretty," he calls you pretty like it's no big deal. So you carry on, no big deal.

He finally gives up the joint for you and you feel very watched. He's following your every move now. He watches as you bring it up to your lips, pursing them, sucking in a deep breath and– heaving a deep, dry cough. He laughs heartily at your pain and you continue to nearly hack up a lung. The iced tea helps.

"Shut up," you full on whine at him, thrusting out a hand to shove at his chest and god dammit, it's rock hard. "It's been a bit, okay?"

He's still laughing but he puts his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry," he sighs dramatically and leans his head against your shoulder as you, very bravely, you might add, go to take another drag. "I'm really botching this aren't I, little neighbour? Hogging the weed, laughing at you, I didn’t even let you choose the movie." He pouts and nuzzles into your shoulder and if you knew any better you'd say he's making himself as pathetic as possible.

"Don't be pathetic, Mingi." He grins.

"I can make it up to you though," his voice has dropped, even lower than his usual bassy timber. "Just wanna be a perfect neighbour, y'know? Lemme make it up to you."

"You already apologized, Min. Nothing to make up."

"Please?" He mutters the single word into your shoulder and blood rushes in your ears.

"Hah–" you breath out a laugh you think makes you sound unaffected. You hope. "Thought you'd have a better tolerance than this." The quiet moment passes like wind through an open window, but the intimacy lingers in the air still, refusing to leave entirely.

He snickers like you're just that amusing to him. "Yeah– that's why I buy the strong shit. So careful with it, yeah? You're littler too. G'nna fuck you up waaay faster." He shifts so his head is in your lap, fully lounging against you like an Emperor in his throne. His long legs don't quite fit onto the rest of the couch like this, one is bent at the knee, the other off the plush sofa completely.

"You're good at making yourself comfortable quick, huh?" you say as you take another drag, almost doing it just to prove him wrong. But he's not wrong, it is, in fact, strong shit. You know you have to slow down if you don't want to be totally flying. 

He grins up at you. "Mm-hm," he nods. "We're friends now. Giving you a crash course in being my friend. This is a lot of it." He grabs at your wrist that isn't holding the spliff, his grip becoming familiar to you now, and brings your hand to his hair. You let yourself tangle your fingers into the dark locks and he visibly relaxes under the touch.

You know if you smoke any more of this space-age weed you won't recover before Monday so you lower it down to his lips– you don't quite understand this instinct, why you don't hand it to him instead but he doesn't so much as flinch. He wraps his plush lips around the filter but makes no move to grab it so you just have to carry on holding it as he inhales. 

"Careful, tiny," he's using that low, quiet timbre again. He clicks his tongue at you chidingly–"Can't have you burning yourself." The ember has crept only centimeters away from your fingers without you noticing and he, with a life-ruining gentleness, plucks it away and leaves the bud to burn in the ashtray. 

The smell is heavier here, because of course it is– you've followed it to the source, after all. Mingi was absolutely right, though, you're more sensitive to the stuff than you remember and you've settled into the high so nicely. It's floaty and warm, familiar like a family recipe. You're sinking into the couch, the weight of Mingi's head in your lap grounding you, tethering you directly to him.

You open your eyes not long after you realize you let them slip close at one point, lazily blinking as you struggle to readjust to even the low light of the cute lamps he has in multiple different spots of the living room. In the back of your hazy mind you register a mild gratitude for the fact that he too clearly understands the evils of Big Light. More than just a pretty face, you surmise.

You cast your gaze down to see how your neighbour is faring to find him already watching you, red-rimmed eyes almost too alert for your liking. He doesn't look away when you catch him– an eyebrow quirks in an unspoken challenge, daring you to look away, to cower first. You don't, not this time. Your fingers, once absentmindedly combing through his hair still. His eyes flicker to your lips, slow enough that you know you were meant to see it, leaving no room for you to misread his intentions now.

"All good?" he still manages to sound casual but only just– like his control is slipping, threatening to break free entirely.

“Yeah,” your voice is softer still, desperate to not disturb this precious little moment. The moment before… something. “All good.”

He studies you for another moment, searching for hesitation or something worse and when he can’t find it he hauls himself up in a gentle glide. You’ve noticed this about him– he’s consistently graceful for someone his size. He’s never abrupt, never jerky. There’s a composure to him that makes you ache to see it crumble and break. He’s next to you now, angled towards you, caging you in with his arms on the plush of the sofa cushions. “Tell me,” he pauses to wet his lips with his tongue and a smirk dances across his face when your eyes follow. Tease. “Tell me if I read this all wrong.”

You don’t need to answer verbally as your chin tilts towards him, an open invitation if ever there was one. His breath catches.

That first kiss is slow and deliberate, every movement drawing you into him more and more. There’s a distant thought that it feels like he’s trying to prove something to you but he steals it away. You’re leaning into each other with a neediness that shocks your hands into moving– one into his hair, already familiar with the touch and the other to a toned forearm.His own hands have found their way to you at some point, magnetized, to your waist. They grip without being harsh, your back arching into the touch only slightly, because you’re still consciously holding onto those last bits of sanity.

His lips press against yours even firmer then, a reward for wanting him as much as he wants you, control slipping away, strand by strand. Your hand tightens in his hair and he exhales against you, fingers gripping you tighter without crossing the line into harshness. He pulls away, only for a second, quick enough that you’re not sure it was even real, because his hand grips onto you before you can even process it, shifting you so his back is against the couch and your thighs are splayed across his, straddling him. You register with a barely contained shiver how thick his thighs are under you. 

He stills then for a second and you’ve parted from him just far enough to take this version of him in. Hair mussed (your doing), eyes red and glossy (half your doing, you choose to believe) and chest rising and falling in deep, purposeful breaths (definitely your doing, thank you). You freeze there, shocked by just how gorgeous he is like this, under you, lowlit and desperate and warm.

You bring a hand up to his jaw before reconnecting your lips to his, needier than before. Your lips work in tandem with each other as your tongues finally meet, delving the both of you into something that can only be described as hungry. His hands wander, as greedy as his mouth is against you, touching every bit of your back and waist he can, sending shocks of heat wherever they manage to brush against bare skin. Your teeth nip softly at his bottom lip in a challenge that you’ll later insist was an accident and you can practically hear his composure begin to splinter. He keens, whines against your mouth and you swallow the sound greedily and his palm flattens against your back to bring you close, close, closer. Your hips shift against his and the friction makes you lightheaded.

He pulls away with a petulant reluctance, forehead against yours, not willing to be any further away than that. He swallows and and sighs against you, hands planted firmly on your hips. His eyes are darker now, heavily lidded and gazing into yours with a fire you don’t recognize but you’re sure is mirrored in your own eyes. He huffs a laugh, half disbelief, half pride.

“Look at you,” you think he means to tease but he’s still breathless enough that it comes out straight up whiny.

“Me?” You smile wickedly and rock your hips against his– the firmness beneath the rough denim erases any doubt in your mind. He wants this, wants you. His own hips stutter, chasing you as his breath catches. “Look at you.”

He bites at his bottom lip, head falling back against the couch. His hands grip at your hips, more desperate than controlling, pulling you against him, closer still. He’s holding back as best he can, teeth still digging into his lip but these little grunts and whines are still escaping, taunting you.

You gasp as he surges forwards, hips properly and roughly rutting up into yours– the seam of your own jeans dig into you and you gasp, head dipping back. He takes this opportunity, lips against your neck with that same hunger, nipping, kissing, biting, surely leaving marks that you can’t possibly bring yourself to worry about now. No one will question a turtleneck in this weather anyway. You let him bite away, your hand finding it’s home in his hair once more in encouragement. Neither of you bother to pretend to have any semblance of control anymore and it’s so much more delicious this way; no more pretending, you’ve decided as you let a wanton moan out. He groans low in response and pulls away– you almost don’t let him, tugging at his hair in retaliation and his groan turns into a whimper. 

Before you have time to react he plants you back onto the couch, moving with newfound determination now, as he gets you to lie down, him kneeling between your spread legs. Your vision has blurred at the edges but he’s glowing, center-stage. He’s a mess. You can’t imagine you’re faring much better. 

Pupils blown, his hands grip at the meat of your thighs– he’s scowling at your jeans like they’re scheming against him. He’s half feral now, you think. He glides his hands up, pulling the fabric of your loose shirt shirt with them and he leans forward to press his forehead against your stomach. “You’re killing me I think,” he huffs, pressing devastating, gentle kisses against your skin and nosing against the plush of your stomach. You laugh, breathless but genuine all the same and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Good way to go though, right?” you giggle and watch as he toys with the waistband of your jeans.

He looks up at you, eyes shining, pleading in an unspoken question, fingers inching toward the button. You nod minutely but he sees it all the same and wastes no more time. He’s frantic, fingers fumbling against the hardware as he undoes them, yanking them down until they hit the rug with a soft thump. Only your panties are between you and him now but he can’t seem to think that far. 

“Fuck, she’s wet,” he says, nearly to himself, eyes gleaming. His hands are on your thighs again, kneading incessantly. “Can I-” he starts, pausing to palm himself over his jeans, can’t help himself. “You gotta let me taste her. She’s begging for it. Need it.” He’s already lowered himself, half off the couch, spreading your legs even wider and nosing at your underwear. “Need it–” he repeats himself, half mindless before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your pussy through the fabric. He moans as soon as he gets that first taste of you, immediately addicted. 

You gasp and your hips jump up at the contact, chasing his mouth and he doesn’t fight it, chases you right back, hands at your hips not to control you but to ground himself. Your hand, still in his hair, it’s second home now, tugs gently at the strands, while your other hand finds purchase on the pillow next to you. He mouths at you, still over your panties, tongue out, practically drooling over you, soaking them through. “Tastes so good,” he hums against you, hands wrapping themselves around your thighs. “So good, fuck. So wet.” 

He pulls back, acting like it pains him to do so but he wants unfettered access to you, might really die if he can’t get it– he yanks your underwear down and doesn’t bother to spare them a second glance as they join your pants on the ground, too in awe, enraptured by your unobscured cunt to even consider looking away. His mouth is back on you before you can take a proper breath in, lips finally, mercifully, wrapped around your clit. You stutter out his name, begging for something– more, less, something that doesn’t even exist yet, you don’t know. 

“Holy fuck, Mingi,” you finally manage out somewhat clearly, around your own whines and whimpers. He hums in response, the vibrations cruel against your clit in a way the makes your head pitch back. He hips have a life of their own, grinding against the couch with abandon, can’t help himself. He pulls back and smiles listlessly at the whine you let out.

“S’good, yeah?” He soaks in your reaction, bites his lip as your hand tries to tug him back. He resists, barely, hands coming to your soaked pussy– he can practically hear her purring for him– to spread your lips wide for him. “She’s so pretty, baby, god–” Only then does he dive back in, one long lick against you that has you squirming. He’s focused on your entrance now, giving those wet, messy kisses again, tongue delving into you and his nose bumps against your clit in a way that has your head spinning. 

“So good, Mingi, it’s so good–” you babble absently but the praise gets to him still, hips grinding against the couch without his permission. You’re not sure who’s louder at this point, you or him. He brings his mouth back to your clit, suckling on it, freeing up space to tease you as with his fingers only brushing against your entrance, gathering the wetness there. He seems to be content to make you into as much of a mess as possible, revelling in every moan, every movement. “Please–” the word’s barely left your swollen lips when he plunges two fingers into your desperate, weeping pussy. 

The initial stretch from two fingers sends a shockwave through you and he has to use his other hand to properly hold your hips down. They’re skilled in their exploration, delving deeper than your own fingers could ever hope to. He’s on a mission, scissoring them inside you, stretching your gummy walls and finding those spots that make you keen. His mouth has travelled, never stopping, biting meanly against your thighs. “So fucking messy, baby,” he takes a moment just to watch; watch his own fingers diving in and out of you, nearly drooling at the sight. “Is that just for me? She loves me, huh?” He keeps talking directly to your pussy– it would be endearing if you weren’t so desperate to cum. 

You nod in response, not even totally sure what the question was, but he won’t break eye contact with your cunt. “Uh-huh,” you’re delirious but conscious enough to know that you’re delirious and that counts for something. Mingi is equally far gone, thankfully, wondering, hoping, that he’ll still be able to taste you hours from now. “S’all for you, Min.”

Another harsh bite on the inside of your thigh, soothed by his tongue and a kiss in that same spot. “You gotta come, okay? Gotta come for me, please, need it, need you to come on my face,” he’s babbling now, on the dangerous side of crazed, please’s and cum for me’s, even as he brings his tongue back to your clit. You’re faring no better, pieces of his name broken up by whines escaping and mounting in volume. Your thighs are pressed against the sides of his head and he thinks that this must be what heaven feels like– buried in pussy, suffocated by thighs. Perfection.

He knows you’re close, so close he can quite literally taste it. He hears it too, your sounds mounting higher and louder still. You know it too, can’t ignore it, with his tongue lapping at your clit and his fingers prodding at that spongy spot that makes you see stars. He wants it bad, working at you with a terrifying vigour. It only took a few more moments, a few more expert swipes of his tongue until you were there, cresting over that edge, your hand fisting in his hair and cumming with a broken wail. He works you through it, refuses to let up. Still pumping, licking, grinding. You’ve never had an orgasm last this long and Mingi is determined to keep it going, going, going– until you’re whining weakly and tugging his hair away from your poor, soaked pussy. Your eyes fill with tears at the overstimulation, a few slipping through and down your cheeks. When he finally does pull away it’s slowly, with one last kiss against your twitching clit like a goodbye. You’d laugh if you weren’t busy trying to remember how to breath like a regular human being. 

He crawls back on top of you, kissing against every bit of skin he can on the way back up– your thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, neck, until he’s face-to-face with you, noses brushing against each other. His eyes are half lidded and still hungry, the bottom half of his face shining, sparkling even with your own wetness, making him look like a sexed up kind of fairy. He brings his similarly soaked fingers up to tap against your bottom lip and you open your mouth without a word, not breaking eye contact as he slides them in, gliding against your tongue, the taste of you heavy. He smiles drunkenly as he watches you suck his fingers, tongue lapping at them and he lets a deep moan out from his chest. His forehead falls to your cheek and he lets his hips grind against you, your oversensitive pussy meeting rough denim and making you whimper around his fingers and gag slightly as they delve deeper. A dribble of spit leaks out from the corner of your lips and Mingi, nasty and unbidden, licks at it, licks all the way up your cheek, along the tracks your tears left, just tasting all of you.

He pulls back abruptly to strip away his own clothes, mostly because he think he might really, actually explode if these fucking jeans stay on for another second. His jeans and shirt are off, boxers halfway down when it registers to him that you’ve followed suit, sitting up with your shirt and bra gone and he can’t not be drawn to your tits. He’s only human. 

He’s kneeling between your legs again, knees digging into the carpet uncomfortably but he can’t begin to care about that as he kneads at your tits, mouth attached to a nipple, sucking and gently biting at it. You wonder, momentarily, how his jaw isn’t cramping up yet. “Mingi, baby, c’mon,” you pull at his roots until he lets your nipple go. He doesn’t quite move away– just looks up at you, resting against your chest, wet mouth still slightly agape and eyes shiny, wet with unshed tears. God. “C’mon.”

You pull him up to lay on the couch and he goes now without question, finally getting his boxers all the way off on the way– you could probably ask anything of him right now and he’d do it. And shit, he’s so hard you realize and he lays there. It’s massive, too– rock hard, throbbing to the point you think it must be painful. He’s leaking an absolute mess of precum against his stomach, his cock already slicked with it from when he was rutting himself into a frenzy in his jeans. “Oh, baby,” you coo at him as you kneel between his thighs, mirroring his spot from when he drove you to a mind blowing orgasm not even minutes ago. You wrap a hand around him and feel dizzy at the realization that your fingers don’t quite touch each other. 

He might have been designed in a lab specifically to drive you insane, you’re pretty sure. How else could a man like this exist, just walking the earth?

Your pussy throbs at the mere idea of his dick stretching your walls but you’re desperate for just a taste first, it’s too enticing; you lean forward and give the slick head a tentative, experimental lick, moaning lightly at the salty taste of him. His cock jumps at the sensation and in the back of your head you remember him saying that he’s sensitive when he was justifying not smoking in the cold– at least you know now he wasn’t bullshitting you. You suck at the head so very gently, just to rile him up and you know it works as he throws his head back and mewls. “Please, baby, just-please, you’re-you can’t,” he’s babbling again, near panicking at the idea of blowing his load before having you properly on his cock. 

You go to straddle him properly, for your own sake as much as his because you want it just as bad– you know you’ll have your mouth back on him one day, you promise yourself that much. Maybe even within the hour, who’s to say. “Oh, Mingi, you’re so hard,” you pout down at him teasingly because you can’t help it– he’s so pretty laid out like this, hands grabbing at you, plush lips kiss bitten and red.

He nods quickly– “So hard, need t’fuck you, baby.” And you know he’s not lying, he needs it, really needs it. “G’nna make you feel so good, yeah? You know I will, I will, I promise–please.”

You either take pity on him or his begging is driving you crazy, either way you use one hand to steady his dick as you drag your wetness along the tip of him and tease his dick along your entrance, your other hand steadying you against his toned chest. You last through a few more of his pleads before you truly can’t take it anymore and begin to sink down on him– the initial stretch of his ridiculous girth is maddening, your mouth dropping open as you take him deeper and deeper.

He’s panting heavily, using every inch of his barely there willpower to not buck up into you and make you take all of him– he lets you take him inch by agonizing inch, every movement making his eyes roll back into his head because fuck, you feel like actual heaven. He might cry. He’s probably actually going to cry, he realizes as you’ve taken just more than half of him, because you’re too warm, too tight, too perfect, what the fuck. And you’re still sinking down, taking more, more, ignoring the slight burn in your thighs because it’s worth it, he fills you so perfectly. You take more, a little more until he’s fully buried inside of you and you both let out synchronized, shuddering groans at the realization.

“Oh, god, god, pretty,” he wraps his thick arms around you all the way, noses at your neck because he needs to be as close to you as humanly possible. “Fuck you’re so wet, so tight, huh? I did that, yeah? Worked you up so good, needed my cock, didn’t you?”

He’s not really asking you questions, some small part of you understands that but you nod along to his words all the same, half because he’s right and half because you can’t think, mind wiped by his cock seated inside you, stretching you out to fit him perfectly, moulding you to him. “Yeah, so full, Mingi, baby, so good–” His hips twitch helplessly against you, begging silently for something, anything. And mercifully, you deliver. 

You pitch your own hips up just barely, just so, the mild movement already sending sparks up your body, a live-wire. He grinds back against you because he truly can’t not anymore, his hips tilting to yours, chasing in anguish and you gasp as the tip of him kisses against that spot deep inside you that makes you gush around him. 

He responds in kind, groaning his loudest groan yet, the sound wrapping around you and you don’t even recognize just how much you’re drowning in everything Mingi, every sense overtaken by him. It’s only those strong arms, hands gripping your waist again that anchor you against pure hysteria.

You start to grind against him, setting a deep, rolling rhythm that has him hitting spots in you that had previously remained untouched. He grinds up into you in tandem, can’t help it, his hands gripping at your waist with a bruising tenderness. His eyes are wet, a few tears rolling down his cheeks now and you feel an evil sense of vindication– it’s nice to know you can make each other cry. And he’s such a pretty crier, eyes wide, face flushed and eyebrows tilted up, he’s just so pretty. There’s not a lot of them, the tears, and you know you’d like to make him really cry one day– but fuck, you’re dripping around him now, as desperate for him as he is for you at this point.

So you have no more restraint left as you go to properly fuck yourself on him, the stretch delicious as you slide him in and out of you, hands on his shoulders to brace yourself but also feel up his built shoulders. “F-fuck,” he has you stuttering and crying out now, damn him, because he can’t just lie there and take it, it’s out of his control now, his hips canting up and chasing you every time you bounce or grind or tilt. “Fuck, Mingi, baby, god, you’re so big, so good,” and you mean it, every word– he is, in fact, so big and so good. So good that he does deserve you truly bouncing on him, you figure and you’re sure he’s ruined you for any other man now, as he buries his head in your tits, keening every time you land, burying him to the hilt. It’s delicious and it’s messy, he’s basically drooling against you as he mouths at your nipples until you know they’ll be sore tomorrow.

“Yeah, good for you,” clearly he agrees. “Made for you, I think– never felt so good, y’r stretched perfectly around me, pretty, just need you to ngh–” his eyes shut tightly as you clench around him, like he’s nearly at his breaking point. “Need it–” he insists, lost in the warmth of you, fully thrusting back up into you.

“Need what Mingi?” your words are breathless, whiny, desperate. “What do you need, baby? Tell me– anything, it– give you anything.”

Both of you are falling apart but desperately grasping at any modicum of control you can over each other; you mock him, he bites at your nipples; you clench around him, he uses his grip on you to slam you down further. The push and pull, the sick game becomes, eventually, little more than two messes, wet and sweaty, fucking into each other, pleading into each others mouths, looking for something, anything, neither of you understand what you need anymore.

“So fine, y’r so good,” he’s mumbling out incoherent praises into your mouth, as everything becomes tighter, hotter, wetter. “Fuck. Fuck.” His hips stutter as they thrust up into yours, grinding in this new cruel way on the up swing and your eyes nearly roll back into you head. “Fuck.”

“Are-” you start, then immediately stop as his hand comes back to your clit, already overworked and weeping, to rub it in precise circles. He doesn’t need to say it out loud but he’s close, rising to this insurmountable peak and he needs, more than anything he’s ever needed before, to bring you there along with him. “You’re nearly there, yeah?” he nods along, little yeah, yeah, yes’s escaping his spit soaked lips. “Me too, me too- need it, need you to make me come, make me feel so good, please Mingi, please, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t stop, probably can’t at this point. His mouth, aimlessly kissing, biting, whatever against your tits and shoulders and neck, is letting out a nonstop stream of noises and mumblings– you make out a few of his praises, the good girls and the perfect pussys in the mix of it all.

“Can-” he struggles to speak, managing words only between these pathetic, high pitched whines. “Need’ta come, baby, need it, need it,” one thought of him coming inside of you, filling you in every way makes you cream around him, clench around him even more, before he even gets to properly ask, making his eyes nearly roll back into his head. “Can I? Please– inside? Inside you? Need to fill you up, make you feel so good, it’ll feel so good– pussy’s so good, so good it’s driving me crazy, really, really– c’mon.”

He might keep going forever if you don’t stop him, so you bring your hands from his shoulders to cup his face, that pretty, pretty face, trusting him and his strong arms to keep pace, dropping you up and down on his cock. “Want it, Mingi–” it’s whispered, an intimate promise, because you need him to know you need this as much as he does right now. “Want your cum, Mingi.”

And then you’ve lost any semblance of control over him, because now he’s thrusting up into with abandon, using his strong arm to bring you back down on him every time– one hand is still busying itself on your pulsating clit. His dick is kissing your g-spot with an almost cruel consistency too, he knows your body with a scary accuracy already, and a wicked, almost unrecognizable smirk spreads across his lips when he realizes you’re as close as he is. 

“Yeah,” and oh fuck, he’s growling as his thrusts grow sloppier and out of rhythm, but never shallow or unsatisfactory. If anything, the mindless state you’re both in has let him in even deeper on these thrusts. “Yeah, it’s good, yeah? And you want it, you need it– need my cum, need it in you, so deep in you, ‘s so deep– I need it too baby, I do, need it.”

Your legs are nearing a gelatin state, but motivation and his actual, physical help are keeping you going– and that pulsating, growing need in the deepest recesses of you. The primal, base need is growing– both to come all over him and make him come, to see him truly unravel.

You’re both so close, close enough to taste it, to know it’s already the best either of you have ever had, weed or no. And you’re both begging too, both begging each other to bring you right there, to the crest, both warbling out combinations of baby and please and need and cum and perfect and more and good and–

It happens in one moment, a chain reaction kind of moment, he bites down on your shoulder, hard, bruising, which, in turn has you clench around his cock, which makes him thrust into you, hitting you just right and your back arches, a bow pulled tight– and you cum in tandem, a rare phenomenon, satisfying in a way you’d never be able to describe. You’re shaking through your orgasm, the unreal pleasure sending shockwaves through your legs to your toes, enlongated by the feeling of Mingi flooding your cunt with wave after wave of his own cum, as he lets out a long, unbroken, almost melodic groan into your shoulder. He carries on with a few meeker thrusts, insistent on fucking his cum as deep into as possible in this deeply primal mindset you’ve taken him to. It’s unfair how good it feels, this warmth that reaches into you. He send a few more feeble jabs into you, whimpering meekly as he does, utterly undone. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s muttering into your skin. You’d make fun of him if your thoughts weren’t made up of much of the same. “Fuck. Shit.

“Hah,” you huff. “Yeah. Fuck, shit and all that.” You can feel him softening inside of you but he makes no effort to move, and is still holding you tight. You don’t try to move either. He presses his forehead against yours, and you’re acutely aware of how sweaty you both are, of your weed-thick, heavy breaths mingling, but you can’t find an inkling of yourself disgusted by him. 

He smiles at you and it’s the same as before you thought you even had a chance with him– wide and distinctly Mingi. 

“Fuck. Really thought I needed the second joint before I’d be able to do that..” he giggles, rocking you back and forth like he’s not literally currently inside you. “Yunho owes me twenty bucks.”

“I don’t know who Yunho is,” you pull back to look at him properly, his pupils still blown, hair an absolute mess. “But please don’t say some other guys name when you’ve just cum in me, yeah?”

He just hums in affirmation rather noncommitally, like you’ve just made a joke you don’t even understand and buries his head back in your shoulder. “Let’s not worry about that right now, tiny neighbour. Let’s worry about how I’m gonna get out of here without staining my couch.” 

[starlostjisung]

LIVE: UNFILTERED

SPECIAL 4K FOLLOWERS EDITION 

after weeks of interviews and increasingly concerning eyewitness reports, this newsroom is prepared to release its latest collection of stories.

sources describe incidents involving unexpected encounters, questionable decisions, unresolved tension, and behaviour that experts have classified as “deeply unprofessional”. while details remain under review, readers should be advised that the following reports contain varying levels of drama and scandal. 

readers are encouraged to review all tags and content warnings before proceeding. this newsroom remains committed to thorough coverage and accepts no responsibility for any attachments or emotional investments formed during the course of this release.

FEATURED REPORTS

📰 OH, WE’RE LIVE TOGETHER

minho x reader the rumours about you and minho have been around for a while, you never confirmed them and he never denied them. all it takes is one livestream together for everyone watching to realise the rumours were true and to leave them wanting more

📰 GYM CRUSH PREMIUM

changbin x reader there are some things you should never do such as: having a crush on the owner of your gym, accidentally discovering said gym owner is a camboy, and touching yourself to said camboy and his livestreams. unfortunately for you, you’ve already failed all three

📰 BREAKING NEWS: I’M AN IDIOT

seungmin x reader  sweet and innocent seungmin fell for a girl he wished he could have and he also became obsessed with a girl he didn’t know. some secrets aren’t meant to stay hidden and he is about to learn that the hard way 

📰 THE ROOMMATE PARADOX

felix x reader  there’s a version of you that only exists online and there’s a version of felix that only exists behind a screen. neither of you has ever said anything about it but living together changes everything and in the end, something has to give

📰 A GUIDE TO MAKE A FRIENDSHIP WEIRD

jeongin x reader  home alone, a shocking reveal, and unresolved feelings lead to a facetime with your best friend jeongin that should’ve ended after the first two minutes. and if we add a bit of alcohol to the mix, what could possibly go wrong?

📰 WELL, THAT GOT OUT OF HAND

han x reader  tuition is really expensive, so expensive that when your friends joke about you and han doing a livestream together to get money, you actually consider doing it. it’s just one livestream with your best friend so you both can get some cash, a stupid idea that might become the best one you’ve ever had

📰 FANCY SEEING YOU HERE

hyunjin x reader  moving in with your best friend changbin and his ridiculously attractive roommate hyunjin is already dangerous enough, but when you discover what his job is, your curiosity leads you to some incredible places, like his bedroom or his bed

📰 EXTRA HOT

chan x reader  chan likes two things a little too much: the pretty barista who always smiles at him when he sees him and a mysterious camgirl who keeps him awake at night. that’s bound to end well

if you want me to add you to the taglist of this event, please comment on this post

[jongseobsno1fan]

HELP FINDING A FIC!

An enhypen fic came up on my feed but i accidentally refreshed before I could finish it. It was Jake x reader where he was her brothers bsf and he accidentally sent a pic 👀👀 to a gc with both of them in. Im pretty sure it was posted sometime this year (idk if that helps at all 😭)

If anyone knows what fic im talking abt please lmk 🙏🙏

[biasedandwrecked247]

Know Way Camping: Pitching Tents

Bang Chan x Reader 18+ MDNI

CW: swearing, slow burn (not everyone’s cup of tea), public nudity, oral sex (m&f), rough sex, domination, groping, choking, consensual slapping, masterbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, blow job, fingering, MinSung, Bang Chan being a total Daddy and more.

Author’s Note: Just wanted to say thank you to my bestie @toomanybiasesforthisurl for giving me the courage to post this. I couldn’t have done it without you, bb. Go check out her stuff, she’s amazing! I was obviously VERY inspired by The kNOw Way Ep. 03, can you blame me? It’s incredibly long, over 15k words, but when it comes to Channie, how could you possibly put a limit on perfection? This is my first fic in well over a decade, so please be kind and enjoy!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Come on, you have to come! We always have the best time, the three of us! Plus, you cancelled last time, you owe me!” Jisung whines over the phone, attempting to convince you to join him and Minho on a last minute camping trip. You can hear grumbling in the background, already recognizing Min‘s annoyed remarks, telling Ji to not push his luck. The giggle you had been suppressing over the course of the conversation slips out, your mind having already been made up that you were going, but wanting to tease your best friend, even just for a little bit longer.

“I don’t know, Sungie, it‘s my first weekend off in a while. I kinda wanted to stay home and, ya know, relax. Maybe read?”

“READ?! You would honestly rather stay home and read instead of spending time with your bestie?! Ugh, no wonder you‘re single y/nnie, you have absolutely no social life outside of work and books. Don‘t you want to go out, have some fun? PLEASE?!“ the dramatic begging that is spewing out of your best friend’s mouth right now is too much, laughter erupting from your chest. ”Hyung, talk some sense into her! She listens to you!“ you hear some frantic shuffling on the other line, imagining Jisung attempting to shove the phone to his boyfriend‘s ear, knowing all too well that Lee Know does not allow anyone to force him into doing anything he doesn‘t deem necessary. However, he does have a sweet spot for our precious, Ji.

”Hi, Noona.“ Minho‘s voice comes across in an annoyed huff, the nickname he has always had for you despite the only few month age difference between the two of you causing you to roll your eyes. ”If you’d rather stay cooped up in a book, fine. But if you have any affection for me and my sanity, you will say yes so this maniac will leave me alone.“ You can hear the sulkiness coming off of Jisung through the phone as he starts to defend his integrity in the background, not needing the phone to be directly against his mouth, his voice easily carrying through the speaker.

At this point, you’re practically doubled over, sides burning from laughing so hard, your dear friends brightening your glum day at work, the call taking place during your lunch hour. It was Friday and you had been working overtime the last few weeks, preparing for an important meeting at work. You were dying to have a weekend off, to yourself, to relax, but when you got the frantic call from Han, you knew your weekend plans had already been made.

“Alright, alright, FINE. I will go camping this weekend. Only because you begged me to, Minho.” The outrage that erupts from Han over the phone that it was his idea in the first place to invite you and that Lee Know only wanted it to be the two of them that weekend, despite Han‘s fear of bugs and physical labor. Your laughter fills the call once again, the ache from the lack of air in your lungs growing steadily.

“Great, we will pick you up first thing tomorrow morning. Be ready by, let’s say 7:00?” Lee Know sounded so calm and collected, camping being one of his hobbies and a common activity he partakes in while Han, on the other hand, could be heard babbling in the background about 7 being too early and real human beings aren‘t even alive at that time of day. Lee Know‘s chuckles fill your ears, you can practically envision the chaotic scene of Han stressing out before him, Lee’s hands gently rubbing his boyfriend‘s thigh, attempting to calm him. They are complete opposites as far as temperament, but the love that flows between the two of them makes all the sense in the world when you see them together.

The vision of the loving interaction between your two friends pulls your mind back to Jisung‘s comment “this is why you’re still single, y/nnie”, a momentary flash of envy crosses your body, but quickly disappears. Yes, you had been single for a while, but you enjoyed your life on your own. You can do what you want, whenever you want. Focus on your career, your hobbies. Plus, it‘s not like it‘s due to a lack of trying. The dating pool these days just sucks.

“I‘ll be ready! See you then! Bye, babes!” You go to hang up as you hear Ji start up again on the other end of the call, whining at Min that he wasn‘t done talking to me and that 7 In the morning was still entirely too early to start the day. The call ends, a smile plastered on your face, a positive feeling filling your body. Maybe this camping trip is exactly what you needed.

7:00 on the nose, you are packed and ready to head out into the great outdoors with your two best friends. You quickly adjust your hair in the mirror by your front door, waiting for the usual text you receive from Ji when him and Min have arrived at your place. A car horn beeps from outside your apartment, you ignore it as you continue fussing with your hair, your outfit, knowing that if something is just slightly out of place or not up to his standards, Minho’s side eye is a killer and will destroy you on the spot. Another blare of the horn sounds from outside. You look at the time, 7:06. It’s not unusual for Jisung to be running late, much to Minho‘s dismay. You quickly glance out the window. Nope, Lee Know’s car isn‘t parked out front in his usual spot. You send a quick text to Ji.

YOU

’Running late again?;)’

Three dots appear and then a response.

SUNGIE

‘Oh! Just go on out front, there was a small change of plans! See you soonㅋㅋㅋ‘

Change of plans? Maybe they rented a different car for the weekend? Another blare of a car horn goes off, irritating you slightly. You grab your bags and head down to the front of your building as you were told.

A cool breeze hits your face as you step out onto the front steps of your apartment building, a nice change compared to the heat and humidity that had been ever so present the last few weeks, causing your air conditioning at home to soar and most likely, your utility bill. You glance up and down the street, looking for either Jisung or Minho‘s faces amongst the parked cars. Your eyes lock onto another familiar face, however, confusion evident on your own as you register who it is.

“Chan? What are you doing here?” You call out to the familiar face in the car parked just to the left of your apartment complex. Another blare of the car horn you‘ve been hearing the last 10 minutes erupts from that same car, a smirk plastering itself onto the driver’s dimpled face.

Chan was a close friend of Minho’s and he also worked with Sungie, making him a common topic of conversation at the MinSung household. You had hung out with him a few times, house parties or holiday events thrown by Jisung, causing you and Chan to mingle every so often. You wouldn‘t necessarily say you were friends, more so friendly acquaintances. Sure, you got along well and he was a nice guy, but you had never seen him in your neighborhood and you knew for a fact that you have never given him your address, so your shock to see him waving you over to his car was obvious in your demeanor. You hesitantly walked over, shifting your bags awkwardly on your shoulders.

“What happened to being ready at 7:00? You know Minho is a stickler for time, as am I. Didn’t you hear the horn?” Chan questioned you through the open window of his car as you approached, a joking tone in his voice layered with slight annoyance at your tardiness. You raised your brows.

“What are you talking about? I’m waiting for Ji and Min to pick me up? How did you know about the 7:00 pick up?” the words come stuttering out of your mouth, your confusion drowning out any sort of ability to figure out what was happening. Chan‘s grin only grows the more flustered you appear, a chuckle leaving his lips as your hands rest themselves on your hips, eyes narrowing.

“What are you smiling about? What is going on?“

”They really didn‘t tell you? I‘m going camping with you guys. Minho invited me. Apparently, there were some issues getting Han out of bed this morning and Min is such a stickler for time, he asked if I could pick you up and drive you to the campsite. We are going to meet the two of them there.”

“Well, that’s news to me! A heads up would’ve been nice, although I‘m not surprised about Ji being difficult to get up, he’s not the best morning person. ” You giggle at the thought of what a mess Minho was dealing with, Jisung probably gripping onto their bed for dear life once he realized what time it was. The smile on Chan’s face softens a bit, his eyes crinkling in the outer corners.

“As long as you‘re ready, we are already 20 minutes behind schedule and it’s a bit of a drive to the campsite. Wanna hop in?” Chan lightly taps his hand on the passenger seat, shooting you a wink that causes you to roll your eyes. Yup, that‘s the Chan you‘ve come to know, charming beyond belief and a complete flirt. The few times you’ve talked with him at parties, he has almost always gotten you to blush, his corny pick up lines and charisma infectious even in the most mundane of conversations. You open the passenger door and slide into the seat, tossing your bags into the back of the car.

The ride to the campsite was pleasant. Easy small talk that never felt forced, Chan always seeming to be genuinely interested in whatever you had to say. The two of you talked about all the usual things: work, hobbies, ’have you seen that new movie’, typical small talk that seemingly always snakes itself into long car rides with new acquaintances. It was definitely enjoyable, the questions and answers flowing freely.

This was the longest you‘ve ever truly interacted with Chan and you can see why Minho and Ji talk so highly of him. He‘s such an easy-going, down to earth person, someone you could easily tell all of your deepest, darkest secrets to without fear of judgement. As you talk back and forth with Chan, you find yourself glancing over at him frequently. Your eyes rake down his face, checking out the handsome features that make up the man next to you. His hair is styled, but you can see the natural wave to it beneath the black beanie he’s wearing, silver hoops adorning his ears, dimples flashing every time he grins or speaks. His lips plump, looking pillow soft and the perfect frame for his bright smile that he keeps shooting your way.

“Y/n? You okay?” Chan‘s smooth voice pulls you immediately out of your dazed state, your eyes darting to the windshield, cheeks heating up as you realize you‘ve been staring. You can practically hear the cocky grin on his face as he says “Like what you see?” with a chuckle. Your face burns, your mind frantically searching for a snarky retort. When nothing comes to you, laughter bursts from Chan’s chest, him thankfully dropping the subject after that. You pull your phone out of your pocket.

YOU

‘Ji WTF’

SUNGIE

’idk what you‘re talking about‘

YOU

’YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT’

SUNGIE

‘See you soon xoxo’

And with that, you spend the remainder of the car ride staring at your phone, no longer trusting yourself to not stare at anything else around you.

The campsite was not really your typical pull up an RV and park, close enough to civilization to get late night snacks if needed, family-friendly type of site. It was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, where no one would be able to find you if you didn‘t want them to. No phone service, no easy access to bathrooms. The exact type of place Lee Know would choose for a weekend away in the wilderness. You can imagine Han‘s complete distaste at the realization, making you wish to be a fly on the wall in MinSung‘s car once they pull into the parking area.

Chan places his car in park, gathering his things before turning his gaze to you. You attempt to keep your eyes locked ahead of you, staring out through the windshield at the stretch of woods before you. You can feel Chan’s eyes on you, your peripheral vision picking up the smirk on his face. Just as you were about to cave and turn your head towards him, Lee Know and Han‘s car pulls in next to you, a mess of waves and muffled “HEY BABY!“ screeches coming from behind the car windows. Han is practically climbing into the drivers seat to greet you, smushing Minho deeper into his spot behind the wheel. Giggles burst from you, the heavy air in Chan‘s car thinning out as your best friend distracts you from the handsome man still seated next to you.

Once the four of you have your bags loaded up and the cars locked, you set off on the lengthy hike it takes to get to your actual campsite. Jisung is already complaining about the walk ahead, Minho casually grabbing his hand and bringing the other man‘s knuckles to his lips in a sweet kiss. This causes Ji to short circuit and immediately relax into the tender moment, per usual. Minho knows just how to calm his man down in the most loving ways, a side of him saved for Hannie and Hannie only. You smile, the scene before you always making you feel warm inside, content in knowing that your best friend in the whole world is loved and cared for.

As you watch, you feel the familiar sensation of eyes on you. Turning to your right, Chan stands there, looking at you with a sweet grin on his face. When you lock eyes, he winks, receiving yet another eye roll from you as you begin following the other guys, Chan trailing behind you.

The hike wasn‘t terrible despite Han’s complaints. The only problem that arose was when you met a small, rocky incline, not too far from the site. You took a step up, attempting to follow Min and Han, but a rock shifted beneath your foot, causing you to lose your balance and fall backwards. A yelp leaves your mouth as you stumble back, your arms flailing to grasp onto nothing until you‘re met with the sturdy, muscular chest belonging to Chan, your shadow the entire hike. With your full body weight falling into him, he easily sweeps you up into his arms, shocking you at the ease. Your arms instinctively throw themselves around his neck, broad shoulders beneath them, the press of your bodies allowing you to feel the lean muscles in his chest and arms. Your eyes, wide from the shock of tripping, lock onto Chan’s, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Careful, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone getting hurt.” He practically purrs, his voice deep, almost a whisper. His eyes dart briefly from your own, down to your lips, and back up again. If you hadn‘t been so close, you might’ve missed it. Your throat goes dry and you awkwardly attempt to remove yourself from his arms. He releases you with ease. A warm rumble of laughter leaves him when you give him a curt “thanks” and brush off your hands on your jeans.

The rest of the hike, any stumble or small glitch in your movements, Chan is there, grabbing your hand or placing his on the small of your back to steady you. You realized quickly just how touchy-feely he can be, not in a perverted way, but a protective way. You try to not show any sort of reaction, but the butterflies in your stomach betray you any time you feel his touch.

Finally reaching the campsite, Jisung leaps for joy, his cruel punishment of hiking through the wilderness finally over. Minho simply grins as he watches his boyfriend celebrate. Laughter erupts throughout the group as Ji stumbles in his celebration and ends up on the ground in a lump. Chan gives him a hand back up before walking over to help Min start unpacking. Ji takes this moment to pull you off to the side.

“Hey, are you okay? Minho-hyung said you tripped? I had no idea, I was too busy trying to keep myself upright!”

“Oh, it was nothing, just a stumble. Chan actually caught me before anything serious happened.” You shoot Ji an annoyed look when a smirk blooms across his face at the news. “What?“

”He caught you, huh? Wow, I bet that was exciting. How was your ride here, by the way? Cozy? Isn’t Chris great?“ You can hear the cocky edge to his voice, the questions spewing out of his mouth like a freight train. One part causes you to pause.

”Wait, Chris? Who is Chris?“ you ask, confusion written plainly on your face. Jisung‘s eyes widen momentarily before returning to their normal boba size.

”Chan is Chris. Chris is Chan. You had an entire drive here and didn‘t properly introduce yourselves? Like really, you need to work on your people skills, y/nnie.“ you punch his arm lightly, getting an offended and overly dramatic yelp in return. Before you can explain or defend yourself, an overly obnoxious ‘OH NO’ rips your attention over to where Lee Know and Chan/Chris are standing, assembling bits of a tent.

Minho has his hands placed theatrically on his cheeks, his mouth forming an “o” as he stares down at the tent packages. You see his gaze lock with Han’s, earning a grin from his partner before dragging his gaze over to yours. You feel a knot form in your gut as a knowing glint sparkles in his eyes, eyelids narrowing slightly.

”We must’ve left one of the tents back

home. Looks like Chan-ah and Noona are shacking up for weekend.“ an evil smirk plays at his lips.

”Oh, that’s really unfortunate. I must’ve forgotten to pack it. What a pity.“ Jisung dramatically throws his forearm across his face, convincing no one of his sorrow for the tragedy unfolding. Your eyes immediately dart over to where Chan is standing, his eyes already locked on you. Your cheeks flush slightly at the attention, those damn butterflies in your stomach having a field day. Chan shrugs his massive shoulders.

”I‘m fine with sharing. We can survive a couple nights together, right y/n?“ You swallow hard at the playful look in his eyes, a sudden nervousness settling within you. Aware that everyone is now staring at you, you relax your stance a bit and cross your arms, sticking your hip out slightly.

”We are all adults here. No big deal. Just try to keep your hands to yourself there, Chris.“ You say jokingly, earning chuckles from both Lee Know and Hannie. Chan’s eyes never leave yours, a darkness settling within his.

”I’ll do my best, sweetheart.“ Your stomach drops, butterflies dead on impact. Oh shit.

The morning bleeds into the afternoon, setting up the tents and random camping furniture Lee Know had packed taking much longer than it should have thanks to Jisung‘s complete lack of ability to follow directions. After their tent collapses for a third time, Hannie was placed in a folding chair off to the side, instructed to stay put by his significant other in a huff. This did not upset your best friend in the slightest, giving you the feeling that that had been his plan all along, smug grin appearing on his face after he takes his seat. You giggle as he wags his eyebrows at you, confirming your suspicions and you glance in Minho’s direction, noting the cute smile on his face despite his annoyance.

To make up for his lack of physical help, Han takes it upon himself to serenade the lot of you, belting out song after song from his internal playlist, never faltering on a run or pitch, his voice raspy and comforting. You smile to yourself as you continue working on your and Chan’s tent, lightly humming along to your friend’s voice. Without warning, another voice hops into the mix, jolting you out of your thoughts, eyes flying to the man working next to you. Chan is singing along with Han, their voices melting together, harmonizing beautifully.

You are stunned, unable to move as you listen to the melody. You knew Chan was involved in the music industry through his work with Ji, but never knew of the talent he possessed for singing until this very moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks, your breath catching slightly as Chan hits a high note perfectly, sending heat pooling deep in your belly. You thought he was handsome before, sure, but Chan is on a whole different level of attractive as he sings.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart.” Chan’s teasing voice brings you back to reality, realizing him and Ji had finished their duet, your eyes still locked on your tent mate. Your face flushes an even deeper crimson as you quickly avert your gaze, grasping manically at the side of the tent, acting as if you weren’t completely busted just now. Chan chuckles deeply, only fueling the heat in your cheeks, as well as your abdomen. Fuck, his voice is doing things to you and he knows it.

“Keep telling yourself that, Chris.” You retort, keeping your eyes pinned to the flap of tent held captive in your hands. A gasp leaves your throat as strong hands grab yours, causing your eyes to dart to the right of you, Chan standing so close to you now, you can feel the heat coming off his body, his natural musky scent filling your nose and clouding your thoughts. Your breathing comes out in soft pants as he peers down at you, his gaze heavy, making you feel small and meek.

“Getting awful comfortable calling me Chris today, be careful. You could stir up something you’re not prepared to handle…yet.” His voice is thick with unspoken promises, tongue poking playfully into his cheek before a sly grin spreads. You instinctively clench your thighs together, the heat in your belly starting to leak into your panties. His long fingers pry the tent fabric out of your hands, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes never leave Chan’s, watching as his pupils dilate slightly the closer he gets to you.

“AHEM….” A throat clears behind the two of you, breaking the trance, you awkwardly stepping back from Chan and tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. Chan exhales deeply through his nose, eyes still locked on you. You both turn towards the noise to see Minho now seated in the lawn chair, smug expression evident in his handsome face while Jisung sits happily on the older man’s lap, fingers raking through Min’s hair. Eyes narrowed, Min chuckles at the two of you.

“Everybody getting along? I knew you would.” He teases, shooting you both knowing looks. You glare at him, throwing up your middle finger in retaliation. This brings out another bout of laughter from Min, Han lovingly pecking him on the cheek. Chan had already went back to finish setting up the tent behind you, the tension between you two now nonexistent, your focus having now switched fully to Lee Minho.

Annoyance creeps in as the light bulb goes off inside your head. They planned this. OF COURSE, the two troublemakers planned this, knowing you had been single for so long and them always commenting on how you should let them try to set you up with someone, despite your answer always being no. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever considered that person to be Chan, always assuming with his good looks and charisma that he had plenty of female attention to keep him satisfied for life.

Just as you’re about to start lecturing the two lovers, Chan appears at your side, slinging a chiseled arm around your shoulder. Your knees feel weak, his natural musk overriding your senses. You bravely glance up to his face as he shoots you a wink, sending another wave of heat directly to your core. “Tent’s done, who’s hungry?”

Dusk settles on the campsite, with the sky turning shades of pink and orange, the silhouette of pine trees stark black in comparison. Minho and Chan have been taking turns grilling a variety of meats and vegetables while you and Ji gab about this and that. You haven’t had the nerve to bring up the situation between you and Chan from earlier, the warmth in your belly simmering still just by looking at him. He had slipped off his black hoodie a while ago, leaving him in a tight black tank top that perfectly highlights all of the ridges and hard lines of his muscled torso. It took absolutely everything in you to refrain from salivating. Jisung, although air headed most days, caught your yearning gaze towards Chan several times over the course of your gossip session, giving you heart eyes every time. You were shocked he hadn’t asked any questions about Chan up until this point, him not being the most patient of souls. Finally, he is seemingly unable to hold it in any longer and you brace for impact.

“Okay, baby, SPILL. What is going on with you two? That interaction earlier was HOT!” Fanning himself dramatically, you giggle and shush him, worried the two other men might overhear your conversation. You both erupt in squeals, catching some side-eyed glances from both Chan and Min before they continue their heated discussion about the best way to grill pork belly.

Your eyes once again land on Chan, staring at his broad shoulders and back as he leans over the grill, the fire casting shadows around him. He bends over further to grab a fallen wrapper from the meat packaging, putting his round ass on display through his shorts. You have to swallow a moan threatening to escape out of you. Ji’s eyes follow yours, then roll back to you. You tear your gaze away from Chan, not even trying to hide it anymore, meeting your besties knowing gaze.

“Oh, baby, you want him BAD.” Jisung can hardly contain his excitement, bouncing in his seat next to you. You shush him again, receiving yet another round of looks from the other two men, Chan’s eyes settling heavy on you for a second longer than necessary, briefly moving up and down your body. You hold his gaze, your panties dampening once again. A purr erupts from Han’s chest, “And it looks like he wants you back. We knew you two would hit it off!”

“So you admit that this was a set up? Some friends you are!” Han throws his hand to his chest, as if you hit him with a physical blow, jaw dropping in a look of utter disbelief. You can’t even begin to keep a straight face, the theatrics being played before you making it impossible.

“I would never! This was all totally Minho-hyung’s idea. He knows what he’s doing. Trust me, I am not the mastermind you make me out to be, babes.” Han glances down at his cuticles, crossing on leg over the other. Your laughter fills the campsite once again, the diva that is your best friend filling your heart with joy. You don’t allow the moment, however, let you forget, this was all Lee Minho’s doing. Oh, he’s got it coming.

“Alright, you two, come and get it while it’s hot or at least before Chan-ah eats it all straight off the grill!” Minho beckons for the two of you, Chan throwing a playful swing at Min, cheeks already full of chewed up food. You and Han laugh as you stand from your lawn chairs, rushing over to grab whatever food Chan hasn’t already devoured.

“ Okay, baby, let’s go! Come on!” Jisung is practically dragging Lee Know down a path, your dinner having been finished after a few drinks had been shared amongst the four of you. You aren’t much of a drinker unless you’re with Ji and Min, the lives of the party. Then, of course, you almost always get tipsy, at the very least. With the alcohol flowing, Ji had somehow convinced the group to take a late night dip in the lake that wasn’t too far from your campsite. You hadn‘t considered swimming an option when packing due to the welcomed drop in temperature this week, therefore neglecting to bring a bathing suit. Both Lee and Han convinced you that your bra and underwear would be just as much coverage as a bikini would, stating that they would even swim in their boxers to make it fair.

You noticed when the topic of you swimming in your bra and underwear came up, Chan got quiet, the muscles in his jaw tense, eyes watching you as you agreed to it with Ji and Min. You could’ve sworn you saw Chan reach down and adjust the front of his pants with his eyes squeezed shut, but got distracted by Jisung screeching “SKRRR” and throwing finger guns, breaking your focus. Chan seemed to distance himself from you for the remainder of the walk after that.

The lake expanded before you, stars reflecting off its surface, a gorgeous crescent moon hanging overhead. You stumble slightly at the edge of the water, the ground soft beneath your feet and your head airy from the alcohol. A light breeze blew past you, goosebumps blistering along your skin. To your surprise, the water itself was actually rather warm, you dipping your feet in after removing your shoes. You stand there for a bit , taking in the view, warm lake water enveloping your feet and the smell of campfire drifting on the breeze.

The tranquility is quickly stripped away as Hannie goes sprinting past you, diving into the water, bright pink watermelon underwear on full display, as promised. Minho, not too far behind him, struts himself in to the shallow water, carrying a large pool float with him. He’s never been much of a water lover. Underwear, once again, out and proud, causing you to giggle when you see the cat designs splayed across his butt. He shoots you a stern look, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. You wrinkle your nose and stick out your tongue at him, further teasing him. Before Min can retaliate, Jisung is calling out for him, splashing water in his direction.

Turning your back to the water, you grab the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it up and off of your torso, adjusting the lace straps of your bra before unbuttoning and sliding your jeans down your legs, the cool breeze hitting your bare ass as you had worn a thong today.

“Holy shit, y/n…” you about give yourself whiplash as you quickly lift your head, the voice startling you, your eyes locking on a shirtless Chan, his sculpted body on full display in the moonlight, shorts hanging loosely on his hips. You can make out the black waistband of his briefs, your eyes wishing they could move down further without being blocked by clothing. Dragging your gaze up to meet his, his eyes are wide, jaw dropped, staring hungrily at your figure. You try to cover yourself with your arms, slightly self conscious at the sudden attention. Your cheeks burn as he physically shakes his head side to side, like he is trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I-uh…just wow.” He breathes, taking in your body again, resting heavily on your chest, the lace doing very little to cover you.

“Hey, my eyes are up here, buddy.” You tease, confidence building thanks to his reaction to your figure as well as the alcohol still flowing inside you. Shockingly, Chan’s cheeks flush red, a shyness you haven’t witnessed from him up until now. His eyes dart away, seemingly trying to focus on something, anything, besides your body. It’s cute.

“TAKE IT OFF! OW OWWW!” Jisung howls from his perch on Minhos float in the lake, a rumble of laughter bellowing from both him and Min. The shyness you just witnessed from Chan quickly vanishes, a cheeky glint in his eyes as he throws up his middle finger towards the men in the water, while unbuttoning his pants with the other. You attempt to not stare, but can’t help watching him skillfully undo the button one handed, wondering what else he could possibly do with those strong hands and long fingers. Chan shoves his pants down in one fluid motion, his underwear catching slightly on the rough fabric, causing the waistband to glide further down his lower abdomen, the v shape his muscles form becoming more and more bare. You swallow hard, seeing Chan in nothing but a pair of tight briefs for the first time, unable to peel your eyes from the bulge of him, making your thighs tremble. Fuck, he is big. Not even hard, although you swear he might’ve stiffened up slightly, maybe from your brief interaction before Ji interrupted?

You lick your lips without thinking, both Ji and Min hooting and hollering from the lake. Chan grins ear to ear at them, placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest before giggling and throwing his hands in the air, attempting to brush off their cheers. He glances over at you, eyes locking on yours, and reaches out one of his hands, silver chain bracelets jingling from the movement. “Need a hand?”

Your breath falters, but you recover quickly, nodding your head and grasping onto his outstretched hand with your own, turning so he can lead you into the water. Chan chuckles at how flustered you are, gripping your fingers tightly to keep you upright. The water is calm, the sand and rocks soft under your feet as Chan continues leading you out towards your friends. You take a step and suddenly trip, slipping on a slick rock on the lake floor. Chan grips onto you, the hand that had already been holding yours tight pulling up, his other reaching across your chest to steady your top half, his fingers grazing your breasts as they go.

You are breathless, his strong grip holding you up securely, face searching yours to make sure you’re alright. All you can think about in that moment is the feeling on his finger tips on your soft chest, disheveling the lace covering them in the heat of the moment. Chan’s eyes flick down to your bra and you watch as they widen slightly. He reaches up gently and adjusts the sheer cup, your entire breast essentially hanging out from the near fall. Your face flushes red, but his delicate touches and sweet dimpled smile he shoots at you afterwards quickly erases the embarrassment, comforting you in a way you know only he can.

“We- uh almost lost you there, eh? You’re awful clumsy, you know that?” Chan chuckles, flashing his dimples at you once again. “Why don’t you hop on my back? I’ll carry you out the rest of the way, just incase.” He winks at you, once again taking your breath away at his natural beauty. You simply nod, unable to form words, Chan guiding you to wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders. He places his palms on your plush thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze of reassurance before he pushes them back further towards your rear, feeling every bit of skin as you leap up into his arms. He hooks his hands under your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms squeezing around his neck as you steady yourself. The feeling of his strong back pressing against your front is intoxicating, you immediately feel the heat pool in your core. Chan lightly taps your forearm, gasping for air. You had been choking him slightly while lost in your thoughts about how the muscles of his back look when he moves, when he thrusts.

“Oh, shit! Chris, I’m so sorry!” You stumble over the words, absentmindedly rubbing his neck and shoulders with your hands, embarrassment and worry consuming you. Chan stiffens slightly, squeezing your thighs before letting out a huff of air.

“You have no idea what it does to me when you call me Chris.” You gulp as he gives your thighs a final squeeze, thumbs rubbing the tender skin there before wading out to finally meet up with Ji and Min, water resting just at hip height. Your mind races, excited to see just how far you can push this ‘Chris’ thing, butterflies returning to your belly.

“Took you guys long enough! It was getting so boring out here with mister scaredy cat!” Jisung whines, wanting to go deeper in the water, Minho anchoring him at that specific spot, unwilling to budge. “Let’s at least play a game! Please!” Ji begs, gripping onto Minho’s bicep, shaking it uncontrollably. Min rolls his eyes playfully, knowing he can’t say no to his Sungie.

Watching the two of them interact reminds you of Ji’s confession earlier, that this whole grand plan had been calculated by Lee Know himself, a need for payback growing within your chest. Have you enjoyed most of this trip with Chan?Of course, but you still can’t accept your friends scheming behind your back. Now’s your chance.

You shoot a devilish look to Minho, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Let’s play chicken.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief, Min still looking slightly confused, unsure of where you’re going with this. “Loser has to strip completely naked. No exceptions.” Hannie’s eyes widen, mouth forming an ‘o’ as he glances over to Minho, who is now throwing the same mischievous aura back at you.

“You really wanna play this game, Noona? You that confident that Chan-ah won’t fail? I’m stronger than I appear.” He grunts playfully, his eyes sparkling from the reflection of the stars on the water.

“Chris has me, don’t you, sweetheart?” You purr in his ear, not only using his name, but throwing the nickname he’s given you back at him. Thankfully, the alcohol is still affecting you, giving you the confidence needed to pull this off. This statement earns you a tight squeeze of your thighs, Chan shifting his weight underneath you. You can feel the growl deep in his chest, but place that in the back of your mind, your focus shifting back to Lee Minho. “Bring it, Lee.” You sneer, Chan giving a curt nod in agreement.

“LET THE GAMES BEGIN! LET’S GO!” Squeals Ji, taking that moment to pounce on his unsuspecting boyfriend, the two of them crashing into the water as if to mimic the sound of an opening ceremony blow horn. Han practically drowns Lee Know, using the older man’s body to push himself up out of the water, Min coming up, gasping for air shortly after. Both you and Chan explode with laughter, watching the two grown men argue back and forth, Min accusing Jisung of attempted manslaughter, Ji simply screaming “I love you” over and over again, trying to escape the wrath of his lover with cuteness.

“No way. You cheated! There is absolutely no way you guys won! I demand a rematch!” You bellow, MinSung cheering obnoxiously at your and Chan’s failure. Best out of 5 rounds and you lost. Plain and simple. You are standing next to Chan, still in waist deep water, hair drenched from the constant dunking. Chan, in all of his muscular glory, is actually huffing and puffing, apologizing profusely, mumbling nonsense about Minho being a beast and stronger than he’s ever seen him. Of course, the constant praise was going to Min’s head, him shooting you a teasing air-kiss with his lips and wagging his eyebrows as Han kisses his cheeks and neck profusely. You thought for sure that you were guaranteed victory, but Lee Know absolutely slaughtered you and Chan, even Ji helped out some, his arms flailing and constant “SKRRR”-ing in your face.

“I warned you, Noona. I know what I’m doing. Now, it’s time to pay the price.” Min taunts, eyes narrowing smugly at your pouting face. “Strip.” He demands, the air being sucked out of you immediately, your throat dry. It’s one thing for Jisung and Min to see you naked, hell, they both already have on many occasions, them being your gay best friends allowing for that kind of comfortability. That wasn’t the problem. The incredibly sexy man that has you weak in the knees and dripping in the crotch is standing next to you, running his fingers roughly through his now curling hair, making you an absolute nervous wreck. You are internally screaming at yourself, cursing your decision to offer up such a lewd punishment.

“Guys, it’s really not necessary, y/n doesn’t have-“ Chan starts but is quickly cut off by Minho’s yell.

“AH! You’re a team, the LOSING team, aren’t you, Hyung? You’re included in this punishment as well, not just our sweet y/nnie.” Min is enjoying himself entirely too much at the moment, Chan’s mouth agape, closing and then immediately dropping open once again, at a loss for words. You freeze, the realization hitting you. Not only do you have to strip, but so does Chan. Shit. Fuck. SHIT. You glance in Chans direction, his eyes already on you, an awkward grin on his face with his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“He does have a point, sweetheart.” Chan chuckles, your eyes darting from him to Minho to Ji, who is practically vibrating out of his skin in excitement. Everyone stares at you, waiting for your retort, your excuse, something, as you stare silently back at the three of them. It’s at this very moment, whether it be true bravery or the alcohol still heavily in your system, you decide. FUCK IT.

With a deep breath in, you reach your hand around to the clasp of your bra resting in between your shoulder blades. A flick of your wrist and the lace peals away, baring your chest to the three men before you. Hannie starts barking in your direction, whistling nonstop while Minho simply grins and pulls his lover into his arms, attempting to wrangle him in a bit. Your eyes flick towards Chan and if you didn’t know any better, you would say the man is completely wrecked, his dark eyes resting on your exposed tits, pupils blown wide, breathing in deeply.

Keeping your eyes locked with his, you bend down enough in the water to pull down your wet thong, the lace sticking to your skin in the water and stand back up, lifting both your bra and panties up in your hand as proof of commitment. This gains you a round of applause from MinSung, the cat calling still flowing from Jisung’s ever open mouth. Chan however, is silent as ever, his silver jewelry glistening in the light of the moon.

Squatting down slightly under the water line, Chan pops back up, soaked briefs balled up in his fist. Him being taller than you, the water hits him just before exposing his crotch, keeping the mystery alive, but definitely not keeping you from staring, the veins in his muscles popping through his pale skin like arrows pointing you towards your most desired location, sitting just below the water. The tension between the two of you is palpable, the air thick with your unsaid thoughts as you stare at one another.

Just when it seems like Chan is about to open his mouth and say something, a bright explosion of pink splashes in the water between your two bodies. You both flinch, your arms flying to block your eyes from the waves of water and Jisung begins shouting.

“FREEDOM!! I can’t let you guys have all of the fun!” Ji’s completely naked body flopping up onto Minho’s float, baring it all to the crew, his watermelon boxers floating lazily atop the water. Minho shrugs his shoulders, shedding his cat boxers and tossing them up to shore in a wet heap. The heavy tension in the air melts instantly, giggles erupting from you as you watch the two boys wrestle naked, attempting to shove the other off of the float. As you are being entertained by your friends, you can still feel the all too familiar stare coming from Chan’s direction, your core clenching tight around nothing at the sensation, an ache beginning to build, yearning for more.

You risk a glance out of the corner of your eye, seeing Chan wading in the water, having sunk down to cover more of his abdomen and chest beneath the lake. You choke on air when you notice his right arm moving in a slow, rhythmic, pumping motion, his elbow and below completely covered, but you knew exactly what was going on beneath the water. Chan’s eyes raked over your form, resting heavily on your full tits, eyelids becoming heavy, soft pants escaping from his plump, parted lips. You turned your head completely in his direction, wanting to see fully just how wrecked this man was becoming as he looked at you, seemingly stroking himself below the waves.

Once you were fully captivated by him, a sly smile spreads across his dimpled face, tongue pressing into his cheek in a taunting sort of way. He begins moving closer to you, you automatically sinking further beneath the waves, but are halted by Chan shaking his head slowly just before your breasts breach the water. He’s right next to you now, his breath close enough to feel on your cheek as he whispers “Don’t you dare cover those beauties up, I was about to combust just looking at them.”

Chills run down your spine, nipples peaking hard as heat soars to your core, clenching desperately at his words. You glance over towards Minho and Jisungie, expecting them to be staring, but are surprised and a bit startled to see the two men heavily making out atop the float, Ji moaning softly as Min sucks and bites at his collarbones. What the hell was in that booze they handed out back at camp?

Gentle fingers pull your attention back to Chan, his thumb pressing lightly on your chin, bringing your eyes to his. Chan’s face is inches away from you now, nose practically brushing yours. His hand leaves your chin to tuck wet hair softly behind your ear, making you shiver. Chans muscular chest heaves with every breath, every inhale pushing his closer and closer to your bare breasts, nipples begging to be touched, stimulated in any way.

Your eyelids droop, fluttering shut as Chan seems to move in closer, lips almost brushing yours. You lean in, tilting your head slightly, trying to meet him in the middle. Chan inhales and you think this is it, he’s closing the distance, but he only whispers, “Your bra is floating away, sweetheart. Better go grab it.” stunning you in your place, eyes flying open as he pulls away and walks through the water up to shore. You turn around and watch, an incredulous look on your face, beyond confused at what just happened. Chan’s ass is on full display as he makes his way onto the sanded beach, turning around just enough to yell over his shoulder without revealing his manhood.

“Yo, Han! Min! Calm your dicks enough to get our asses back to camp!” Chan’s voice rings out, breaking up the hot and heavy makeout session between MinSung. Han sticks out his lip, pouting as Minho pulls away, sliding off the float after lightly smacking the younger man’s ass.

You are still in shock as you swim out to grab your bra, thoughts running endlessly in your mind. What the fuck? Did something go wrong? Is this just a fucking game to him? You were driving yourself nuts, awkwardly shrugging on your wet bra and thong as you make your way through the water.

Once back on land, Minho and Jisung can hardly keep their hands off each other, both haphazardly tugging their clothes back on, their soaked underwear shoved into Min’s jacket pocket. Chan simply put his shorts back on, draping his tank top over his shoulder, not even glancing in your direction as you throw your clothes on in an annoyed huff.

The walk back to camp was awkward. Chan leading the way, walking ahead of the group without a single glance back. Ji and Min were feeling each other up the whole way, grabbing each other’s asses and whispering things in one another’s ears, eliciting giggles and playful slaps from both men. Lastly, you are left by your lonesome, tailing the group, thoughts racing as you try to figure out where everything went wrong. Before you knew it, the campsite came into view, MinSung immediately darting towards their shared tent without so much as a goodnight or a see you in the morning. Their tent flap zipped shut, Jisung’s flirty giggles audible through the thin fabric, leaving you and Chan alone in front of your own tent.

You try to meet Chan’s eyes, searching for answers, but he avoids them, casually opening the front flap and stepping inside the tent, holding it open for you to follow. You sigh heavily, frustration boiling over as you step through the open flap before Chan zips it shut, enveloping the two of you in darkness.

You plop down on the thermal sleeping bag that had been placed on the floor of the tent earlier, kicking off your damp pants in the process, your undergarments having dripped water steadily down your body during the walk back. Your bra has completely soaked through your shirt, eliciting an annoyed groan from your throat as you stand back up to dig around in your bag for dry clothes. As you rummage through, the hairs on the back of your neck spike, that familiar feeling of someone watching you washing over your skin. Your blood boils, the annoyance and irritation of Chan’s rejection pushing you over the edge.

“Are you fucking with me?” You whip around, voice rising slightly, causing Chan to jolt back from where he had been standing, watching you. His brow furrows, confusion coloring his handsome face.

“What are you talking about, y/n?” He sounds sincere, but you don’t buy it, your stubbornness and temper pushing you further.

“Don’t give me that, Chris. You practically fucked me with your eyes back there only to reject me and completely ignore me the entire way back to camp. I’m not a toy, you can’t mess with me like that.” You spit out at him, ripping your wet shirt and bra off to be replaced with an oversized t-shirt, discarding your panties without thinking. You’re so frustrated, you hadn’t even realized you just stripped completely bare in from of Chan once again, this time without any water to keep some sort of modesty. His eyes practically bugged out of his head, whether it be from the accusations you were spewing out at him or the fact that you bared yourself fully to him again, you probably won’t ever know. Right now, all you want is answers.

Chan seems to regain his composure, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, opening his mouth to speak. “Y/n-“

SMACK. Chan is cut off by the sudden sounds of what sounds to be a hand connecting to skin, a loud moan following immediately after.

SMACK. Another, this time louder, a broken whine filling your ears. That sounds like Jisung. Holy shit. You cannot believe what you are hearing, your best friend’s wrecked voice and noises sounding throughout camp. They’re fucking, Min and Ji, completely disregarding the fact that they are not the only residents of this campsite. More noises break through the silence of your and Chan’s tent, growing more and more erotic as it sounds like Minho is smacking the life out of Jisung, although the whines and pants that are spilling out of him indicates that it is a consensual beating.

Your cheeks flush, heat rushing up your neck as you meet Chan’s shocked face, both of you stunned at the symphony of moans and whines coming from MinSung’s tent just a mere 5 feet away. The anger you had been harboring, the annoyance towards Chan fades away as you both burst out laughing, unable to truly believe what you are witnessing via Hannie’s vocals. Your ribs ache, gasping for air, tears running down both your and Chan’s faces from laughter. You look at each other and take a deep breath, no longer feeling the need to discuss the earlier events that evening.

You take a seat on the sleeping bag once again, shyly glancing down at your hands as Chan begins to change out of his damp clothes, dropping his pants to the ground, his underwear and tank top already in a pile by the entrance. He clears his throat, indicating that he’s done changing, pulling your gaze over towards him. He’s shirtless, black sweatpants adorning his lower half, resting loosely on his hips, no waistband of underwear in sight. You swallow hard, but tear your gaze away, not trying to get yourself all worked up again.

A hearty chuckle pulls your gaze back to Chan, causing you to raise your brows in question. “What? Still laughing at the two horn dogs next door?” You tilt your head in the direction of MinSung’s tent, the smacking noises having stopped but whimpers and moans continuing to pour out from within. Chan shakes his head no in response, his hand resting on his forehead. “Well?” You push, curiosity getting the better of you.

“There’s only one sleeping bag.” You freeze, Chan’s observation causing you to glance around the tent. Sure enough, he is right, Minho having left only one sleeping bag in your tent despite you knowing there were plenty packed. You groan, throwing your head back in annoyance.

“I’m going to kill him.” You promise, internally adding Lee Minho back onto your shit list. Chan chuckles warmly again, this time stepping closer to you, his facial features showing up more in the dark of the tent. You can’t help but quickly glance down to his chest again, the muscles stretched tightly across his torso, straining with every breath he takes in. He’s like a fucking marble statue, chiseled to perfection.

“May I?” Chan gestures toward the sleeping bag you are seated on, implying that he would like to sit next to you. You nod softly, scooting over to make just enough room for Chan to take a seat. “Listen, I-“ he starts.

“AH, HYUNG!” Jisung yelps from their tent, cutting Chan off once again, breathless grunts filling the air in the tone of Minho’s voice. You snort, covering your mouth to hold back the laughter bubbling out of you. Chan covers his eyes with his hands, his silver bracelets rattling gently. The two of you sit there, holding back your laughter as you hear grunting more and more frequently, an occasional skin slapping sound filling the void in between.

“Damn, Min has got some stamina. No wonder he kicked my ass at the lake.” Chan chides, dimples popping as he grins. You giggle, shoving his broad shoulders softly with your own, bodies resting against one another’s afterwards. A comfortable silence stretches through the tent, the only sounds filling the background being Han’s gasps and a sporadic sigh from Minho. You glance at Chan, a small smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at his own hands, fiddling with the jewelry he always wears. Suddenly, he lights up, a cheeky expression crossing his face. He turns to face you.

“Wanna have some fun? Tease the guys a bit?” His eyes squint from the excited smile on his face, crinkles around the edges that make them sparkle. You sit up straighter, intrigued.

“I’m listening…” you press, raising an eyebrow playfully at Chan. He giggles, leaning back slightly almost in disbelief before calling out in the direction of the other tent.

“You guys think you’re proving something to us with the noise? Wanna hear what a REAL good time sounds like?!” He turns his head slightly towards you, sending a flirty wink your way. Your eyes widen slightly, not exactly sure where he is going with this. A deep chortle sounds from the opposite tent, the sounds of skin on skin never faltering, Ji’s moans softly trickling out every so often.

“Show me what you got, Bahng!” Lee Know’s voice rings out, cockiness laced in his slightly breathless tone. You’re not sure what happened in that moment, but you hear Han make a startled noise followed by a drawn out sigh, the squelching sounds slowing down a bit, maybe indicating a sudden change in positions? You shake your head, not wanting to visualize what is being done to your best friend just a few feet away from you.

Chan begins to shift positions, tugging on your arm lightly, as he goes to lie down on the sleeping bag. You follow, lying beside him, Chan’s arm outstretched for you to rest your head on. You shimmy up against him, digging your head lightly into his bicep, finding comfort immediately. Chan grins, glancing over at you before releasing a strained groan from deep in his throat. The sound shakes you to your core, igniting that fire from earlier, warmth pooling in your belly. He begins to breathe heavy, panting softly, his chest heaving with the effort. His eyes find you again, raising a brow.

“Come on, sweetheart, play the part for me. We are losing here!” He whispers, mischief evident in his stare. You blush despite yourself, a wave of nerves washing over you. Chan’s hand brushes your shoulder gently, the bicep beneath you flexing, attempting to reassure you to join the fun. You relax, a smile forming, and you push out a drawn out moan, earning a wicked grin from Chan. The sounds continue to flow between the two of you, finding a believable rhythm to follow. You let out a yelp, clapping your hands together to simulate a spanking. “Good girl.” Chan purrs, making your stomach flutter, that ever growing pool of heat beginning its descent lower and lower in your abdomen.

You can hear Jisung and Min, their pants and moans escalating, almost as if your and Chan’s added sounds are aiding in their chase to the finish line. Minho mumbles something under his breath that you can’t quite make out, but boy does it have an effect on Han, his voice yelling out, “Fuck, Hyung, I’m gonna cum!” You stifle your giggles, slightly embarrassed to be witnessing such an intimate moment between your two friends, even if only via sound.

Deciding in that moment to level up your own performance, you breathe in deeply before hollering out “Ugh, Chris, yeah right there! Keep going!” You feel Chan stiffen up next to you, the hand that had been tracing random shapes on your shoulder stopping in its tracks. You don’t let that stop you, pushing further. “God, you’re so big, Chris, fill me up, FUCK!” You yell out, giggling softly, feeling empowered by the words coming out of your mouth.

Your eyes move to rest on Chan’s face, wondering when he is gonna jump back in, already hearing Minho and Ji pick up the pace, the distinct sound of skin slapping skin coming faster and louder than before, deep grunts bursting from Min’s chest, Han sounding like a wrecked mess. You’re not sure how it all happened, but as your eyes lock on Chan’s face, his hand shifts completely, moving down from your shoulder and steadily palming your breast through your shirt. He’s already staring at you, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, breathing deep and heavy. Your breath catches, your pussy immediately soaking itself, the pool of heat bursting within you under his gaze. The look he gives you is full of lust and desire, very similar to the one he was sporting at the lake as he stroked himself freely. He gently squeezes your tit, pulling a soft moan from your lips. He breathes out deeply through his nose, eyes closing before returning back to your face, flicking between your eyes and lips. He leans in closer, the heat of his breath dusting your skin. He pauses, just shy of your lips again, practically a replay of the lake incident, only this time, he speaks, voice husky and rough.

“Tell me to stop.” He groans, hand kneading your breast softly, causing your eyelids to flutter. “This is your last chance, y/n.” He warns, fingers now toying with your erect nipple, your breath stuttering. “Tell me now, or I won’t be able to control myself.”

“So don’t…” you breathe, a growl bursting from deep within Chan’s chest, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipple hard at the permission given by your words. You gasp, mouth popping open at the sensation, giving Chan all the room he needs to dive right in. His lips, plump and soft as velvet, crash onto yours, his tongue already breaching your walls, your jaw slack from the gasp you had let out. He explores with his tongue, the rest of his body not wasting a second as he rolls himself over top of you, settling in between your legs.

The kiss is filthy, all tongue and teeth, lips being pulled on roughly, all while Chan’s groin begins to rock itself, brushing up against your bare cunt, you never having replaced your thong from earlier. You moan out in pleasure, feeling the gigantic bulge you had salivated over back at the lake. His body rolls deep and rough, the friction from his clothed dick enough to already start tightening the coil in your belly. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, feeling the muscles contract with every one of his movements. Chan continues to rock his hips into you, growling when you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him firmer against your hot core. You fist the curls at the base of his neck, tugging slightly as his mouth moves to suck on your jaw. A moan slips from his lips, vibrating against the sensitive skin he just marked. You whimper softly, trying to contain yourself as he dry humps you.

“Come on, babygirl, let them hear you. We aren’t letting the guys win a second time tonight.” Chan bends down and catches your clothed nipple between his teeth, causing you to cry out, the pain melting into pleasure almost immediately.

“Ah- fuck, Chan!” You yell out, earning yet another swipe at your sensitive peak, Chan’s hips continuing to grind into you. He pulls back, eyes searing into yours, an almost animalistic hunger evident on his face.

“That’s not what you call me. Say it properly.” Your eyes begin to roll back, the pressure of his rock hard cock rubbing deliciously against your sopping cunt. Chan’s hand grips your face roughly, forcing your eyes to focus back on him. “Say my name.” He orders, his hand leaving your chin, sliding down to rest on your neck, squeezing softly. You try to focus, try to force out the words, but your climax was building fast, Chan’s fingers pressing on your windpipe just enough to make you feel lightheaded. “Y/N!” His free hand connects with your cheek, startling you back to reality.

“Chris, fuck yes, Chris..” you moan out, earning a devilish grin from the man on top of you.

“That’s my good girl. How about a little reward? Don’t hold back now.”

The hand that had smacked your cheek trails down your chest, stomach, and under the hem of your t-shirt, forcing itself between your and Chan’s groins, him still grinding into your pussy, the rhythm intoxicating and never faltering. His long fingers drag down your slit, causing a hiss to spew from your mouth. Gathering the wetness from your center, Chan drags it back up to your clit, beginning his assault on the little ball of nerves. You cry out, the coil inside you practically ready to burst, your hips grinding down into his hand, his hard cock rocking against you. Just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, the build up hot in your veins, Chan pulls away. He removes your legs from his waist, shoving them down and apart against the floor, baring yourself to him completely. Before you can even begin to complain at the loss of contact, Chan stoops down, his luscious lips latching onto your swollen clit, sucking hard and fast. The moan that erupts from you shakes your whole body, your cunt further wetting itself to the satisfaction of Chan, slurping away at your juices. He pulls away only to comment about how fucking good you taste and dives back in, sucking and licking like his life depends on it. His fingers find your entrance, two of them sliding in with zero warning, causing you to buck your hips up into Chan’s mouth. He moans greedily against your folds, eyes locked on your face as he watches you from below.

You can’t look away, his dark gaze holding yours, sloppy squelches filling the silence as he laps you up. He adds a third finger to your weeping hole, curling into the spongy spot inside. Your orgasm hits you hard, crying out in ecstasy at the top of your lungs, Chan relentlessly tongue fucking you through your release. He purrs, drinking you up, your body quaking in the aftershocks. Chan’s lips detach from your cunt with an audible ‘POP’, causing you to shiver from the overstimulation. Your breathing is ragged, eyes hooded in exhaustion. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever had and you can’t imagine it getting any better. You couldn’t be more wrong.

Chan sits back on his knees, your release coating his face from the nose down, his tongue flicking out to taste. “Fuck, babygirl, you taste so good, I could eat you forever.” He groans out, slipping his pruned fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the lingering taste of you. You stare as he leans further back to his feet, bringing himself to a standing position, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers hook into the waistband of his sweats, erection straining hard against the front seam.

You swallow, eyes taking him in as he slowly pushes down the fabric, line after line of pure muscle exposing itself, veins popping from the adrenaline in his body. You can feel the drool filling your agape mouth, your breathing heavy with your chest heaving. A cocky smirk pulls at his lips, him pausing just shy of exposing himself to you, causing you to whine and shoot him a pouty face in return. Chan chuckles darkly, flexing his abs as he toys with the waistband of his sweats, eyes glittering in the darkness of the tent. You decide you’ve had enough of the waiting, your pussy already dripping once again just from watching Chan tease playfully.

Before he can react, you jump up from your position on the sleeping bag, resting on your knees in front of him and grasp frantically at the bunched up fabric sitting below his hips. You tug on the thick fabric of Chan’s sweats, finally freeing his cock, the thick length of it bouncy up at attention, pre cum steadily dripping from the tip. You moan loudly, your pussy clenching painfully hard at the sight of his manhood, the shaft twitching to the rhythm of Chan’s pulse. Your jaw drops open, eyes flicking up to meet his, Chan peering down at you, a wrecked look on his face at the sight of you being so submissive in front of his aching cock. Your dominant hand slowly reaches for his tip, fingers tracing the slit, playing in the pearlescent cum dripping from it. Groaning, Chan thrusts his hips towards you, chasing the feeling of your hand fingering his cock.

Your grip tightens as you take more of him into your hand, feeling the ridges of the veins along his length. The size of your hand barely covering half of his thick shaft, you greedily lick your lips as you glance up to Chan’s face once more, peeking through your eyelashes as you do. Chan’s brows are furrowed, him obviously trying to contain himself but as you begin to lean your face towards his member, his hips buck lightly, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily. “Shit, sorry baby, you just look so fucking sexy right now, I can barely stand it.” He breathes in deeply, his control slipping as you slide your fist up and down his shaft once, testing the waters. “FUCK, y/n….” He growls, his hand flying to rest on the back of your head, fingers threading in your hair.

Confidence soaring, you move your free hand back behind your head to rest atop Chan’s, eyes locked on his as you open your mouth mere inches away from his red tip, guiding Chan to push your head closer to where he needs you most. His lips part as he watches you, a choked cry clearing his chest as your mouth sucks him in fully, hitting the back of your throat with a gag. You stay there for a moment, swallowing around him, tasting the salty pre cum dripping sporadically down your throat. Chan’s head flops back, stuttering moans leaving him, his fingers gripping your hair snugly. You feel a gush between your legs, Chan’s fat cock and tight grip pushing you further into your frenzied state. Hollowing out your cheeks, you push your head back against Chan’s palm, bobbing back and forth at a quickened pace. Chan’s veiny hand grips on tighter, moving with you and applying pressure every time his dick hits the back of your throat.

Your tongue presses against the bottom of his slick shaft, tracing every ridge and vein along his length, allowing your teeth to graze lightly every now and then. Your hands explore his toned body, finger tips tracing his abs with one hand, the other fondling his balls, sticky from spit and milky drops of his cum. Chan quivers beneath your touch, moaning erratically with every wet suck of your mouth. His breathing falters, panting heavily as he finally allows his grip on the back of your head to take the lead, bobbing you up and down faster and deeper, his free hand joining the original. With both of his hands now locked tight against your scalp, his hips begin to thrust his twitching cock harder into your mouth, making you gag hard, eyes rolling back into your skull as your arousal peaks. You can feel your juices dripping messily down your thighs and onto the sleeping bag you have been kneeling on, your pussy throbbing as Chan fucks your mouth.

Just as you think Chan is about to burst, he pulls his dick violently out of your mouth, yanking your head back and face up towards him, drool dripping down your chin, a string of it still connecting you to his angry cock. Chan’s face is wrecked, sweat droplets prickling up along his forehead, panting heavily as his abs contract. His dick is throbbing, twitching along with his racing pulse. Keeping your eyes locked with his, you stick out your tongue, showing off the mix of saliva and his salty drippings, wishing you had been allowed to finished him off and taste every bit of his release.

“Such a fucking pretty mouth, I almost let myself go, but I’ve got different plans in mind.” You let out a hiss as he grips your hair tighter in his hands, adjusting the angle of your head into an almost painful position. “Be a good little slut and take that shirt off for me, yeah? I need to see those delicious tits of yours.” Chan barks, roughly releasing your hair to finish pulling his sweats off and kicking them to the side. You do as you’re told, practically ripping the fabric off of you, shivering slightly at the cool air now hitting your overly sensitive breasts.

Chans stares down at you, still obediently sat on your knees, plump breasts bouncing with every breath you take, awaiting your next set of instructions. “Turn around.” He orders, a dangerous glint in his eye, his own hand now gripping his leaking cock, breathing in deeply as he strokes it slowly. You whine out, not wanting to look away from the intoxicating sight before you, Chan’s eyes fluttering closed momentarily from his own touch. When they reopen and see that you haven’t done as you were told, still planted near Chan’s feet, staring hungrily at him masterbate, Chan snarls, baring his teeth in an animalistic sneer.

“Did I stutter? I said turn around, y/n. Don’t make me repeat myself again or there will be hell to pay. “ His head cocks to the side, eyebrows rising slightly as you hesitate, not realizing he was making a serious threat. You quickly flip around, Chan having taken an intimidating step closer to you, sucking in a deep breath through his nose, proving just how serious he was being. You clumsily take position on all fours, your bare ass facing Chan, your heart pounding in your chest as your breasts sway side to side from the movement.

“That’s my good girl…” Chan purrs, making your pussy clench tight, juices dripping down your thighs. You can hear him shuffle behind you, his feet dragging across the floor of the tent. You glance back over your shoulder, desperately missing the view of Chans naked body and rock hard dick. He’s slowly making his way towards you, his erection bouncing with every heavy step, pre cum flinging from its red tip. The sight alone makes you moan out, arching your back slightly, baring your wetness to Chan further. He licks his lips, eyes locking on your cunt, that damn hand of his continuing to stroke himself.

Your breath catches when you feel the heat of Chan’s body near yours, his shins brushing the round cheeks of your ass, sending a bolt of heat through your core and spilling out of your pink folds. “Chris…please…” you whimper, feeling his hand run up your backside, fingers grazing past where you want him most before gliding up your spine and pressing down firmly between your shoulder blades, your chest pushing into the plush sleeping bag beneath you. A groan spills out of Chan, your use of his name seeming to drive him mad, his hand leaving your shoulders to rest on the back of your neck, fingers gripping your hair in the process.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Daddy’s here. You’re so patient, showing off that pretty pussy of yours to me.” Chan’s hold on your neck tightens, tugging your head back slightly to further press your tits into the ground, the arch almost painful, your ass opening itself wide as your cheeks spread from the position. With Chan leaning over your body, you can feel his dick rubbing against the skin of your ass cheeks, moist droplets of cum dripping down to your puckered hole. You arch further, feeling like your spine will snap in the process, trying to press against Chan’s hot cock. He chuckles darkly, shifting down to his knees so he can bring his lips to your ear.

“Don’t you start acting up now, I don’t know how much longer I can stand not being inside you, pretty girl. Just a little longer, I promise.” He whispers, breath hot in your ear and on your neck. This was absolute torture, but a part of you was absolutely reveling in it, the anticipation almost as addicting as the feeling of Chan’s hand around your throat, his dick so close to your holes.

“I want you so bad, Chris. I need you, now…plea-AH!” Chan’s free hand connects to, not only your ass, but your bared pussy as well, your entire backside stinging from the slap, Chan squeezing the back of your neck tighter to keep his balance, your hair still balled up messily under his grip.

“What did I just say?” Chans voice is stern, his hand locked on you, your back beginning to ache from the constant strain of the arch he placed you in. “No acting up, no one likes a brat, y/n. At least, not tonight; be my good girl tonight. I promise, you’ll get a reward for good behavior.” His tone softens, applying a playful smack to your still stinging backside as he releases your neck to allow you to relax slightly out of the intense arch.

You let out a breath, the muscles in your back sore from the strain, your lower back burning as you are still baring yourself to Chan. His free hand roams your body once again, a feverish trail of heat blooming from under his fingertips, a roadmap of where he has been all along your skin. You can hear his breath hitch whenever you clench your core, your arousal steadily dripping out of you, your skin burning hot from his touch. Your eyes drift shut, breathing uneven, when Chan’s hand rests itself on the cusp of your ass, thumb brushing down into the crevice, ass hole quivering at the proximity. You gasp when you feel a stream of cool air, Chan blowing directly on your entrance, causing it to clench violently.

“Mmm, can’t decide which I like more from this position, your asshole or your cunt. Both look equally inviting…” Chan trails off, your eyes flying open, holes tensing up as you feel his hot mushroom tip rub from the top of your ass crack all the way down to your clit, brushing gently across both entrances. Your body trembles, blood boiling with excitement as Chan drags his cock all the way back to the peak of your crack. Your pussy clenches desperately, almost as if it could catch his length as it passes through, eliciting a whine from your throat.

As if in response to your pleading sounds, Chan releases your neck, placing his hand on your hip, the other still guiding his hard length through your folds, growling deep in his chest. In one fluid motion, he allows his tip to be hooked by your weeping hole, pushing in ever so slightly, the stretch from his girth already burning just from the tip. You sigh heavily, the burn bringing about intense pleasure, finally getting what your pussy has been craving from the start. Chan keeps pushing in, slow and steady, your inner walls stretching tight around him.

Once he bottoms out, his other hand grips onto your uninhabited hip, both hands now rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The feeling of his entirety inside you is unexplainable, the pleasure you’re experiencing, while essentially cock warming him, already beginning to tighten the coil within you. Turning your head to look back at Chan, you see him gritting his teeth, jaw tight and eyes closed, his cock twitching erratically inside you as he fights internally to keep his composure. You purposefully clench tight around his straining length, his eyes flying open, grip on your hips bruising.

“Fuck me, Chris…” you plead, clenching around his cock once again before leaning forward slightly to slide towards his tip, then pushing back, desperately trying to initiate movement. Chan’s face mirrors how wrecked he is, his thighs shaking as you fuck him softly. You go to rock again, sliding up his shaft partially before his grip tightens like a vice, immobilizing your body. Staring into his eyes, you see the switch, a decision having been made and a sly smile spreads, dimples settling in his cheeks.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” Chan pushes you away from him, his dick almost completely out of you then ripping you back to him, bottoming out in one quick thrust. You cry out, the tip of his cock slamming against your cervix, before pulling back out to near completion and rutting back into you, over and over again. His pace is unwavering, your walls sucking him in, wet squelching sounds filling the tent amongst both your and Chan’s moans.

You feel that familiar sensation of an orgasm brewing at an alarming rate, belly tightening and thighs shaking. Chan stops for nothing, simply shifting you side to side, forwards or further back towards him, however he need to in order to hit every surface of your inner walls, you struggling to hold yourself upright on your knees and chest. A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, the air palpably thick and humid, the tents interior becoming a sauna of sorts as Chan fucks you senseless.

“Brace yourself, babygirl, this isn’t even my highest setting!” Chan lets out a breathless chuckle, your constant moans becoming louder and uncontrollable. “Should we turn it up a notch, baby?” He sneers, grunting ferociously as he pounds into your soaked pussy. All you can manage to do is nod your head yes in response, your orgasm coming on lightning fast, your toes beginning to curl. Chan adjusts his grip on your body, still thrusting, and as he pulls out of your heat, flips you to your back using only his own body strength, the change in position startling you. His pace never falters, him throwing your weak legs over his shoulders, continuing his aggressive assault on your cunt. Holding your legs in place with one arm, Chan reaches down and begins flicking your swollen clit with his fingers, simultaneously quickening his speed, hips snapping against you.

“Chris-AH-Chris, I’m-!” The coil within you doesn’t just snap, it shatters completely, your body going completely rigid, silent scream erupting from your opened mouth. Your back arches up violently, your legs trembling against Chan’s massive shoulders, your orgasm sending your body into factory reset. You come so hard, you feel your heartbeat in your ears, juices squirting out of you all over the sleeping bag and Chan’s lower body. None of that matters, Chan fucking you through it, chasing his own release. You gasp for air, becoming overstimulated as the aftershocks consume you, Chan removing your limp legs from his shoulders. He grabs both of your ankles in one hand and angles your legs to one side of your body, completely changing the feel of your walls around his dick. He moans out, panting heavy as beads of sweat pour down his face, veins bulging across his body. His thrusts begin to lose their rhythm, his cock twitching aggressively inside you, his release building. You’re amazed by him, despite how overstimulated you are, the stamina this man possesses is otherworldly.

With his free hand, Chan reaches down to grasp at your breasts, kneading the soft skin with his palms, fingers flicking your nipples, making you cry out. “I’m close, babygirl. Let me fill you up.” He chokes out, eyes screwed shut under the intensity of his movements. Your hands meet his one on your tit, giving it a reassuring squeeze, telling him it’s okay to let go while inside. “Say my name, baby. Please.” He begs, squeezing your tit for dear life, leaning his body weight into your legs as his thrusts become sloppier.

You lick your lips, mouth dry from screaming, dehydrated from your intense orgasms. Mustering up what strength and voice you have left, you moan out, “You fuck me so well, Chris. The best ive ever had, cum in me, Daddy.” And that’s all it takes. With one final, monster of a thrust, most definitely bruising your cervix, Chan growls loudly, whimpering, as his hot load fills you to the brim, pumping you full of his seed. Even with his dick still inside, you feel his release leaking out of you and down to your asshole.

Chan collapses on top of you, your legs still folded to the side, ankles pinned together by his veined hand. He’s breathing heavy, body shaking crazily from the aftershocks, his orgasm seemingly taking everything out of him. His head rests in the crook of your neck, hair damp with sweet, his forehead clammy. You reach your hands up and around his broad shoulders, fingers entwining with his hair, now curly from his perspiration. The two of you stay like that, attached in the most intimate way possible, catching your breaths. Chan’s breathing finally slows, nuzzling his face deeper into your neck. He breathes you in, sighing happily, you already feeling the grin on his face.

“You smell really good, ugh why are you so addictive?” He inhales again, causing you to giggle. You feel the sweat and stickiness strewn across your skin, Chan’s release still trickling out of you, his dick softening within you. You roll your eyes.

“Chan, I am literally so gross right now, I would give anything for a hot shower.” He chuckles deeply, his chest rattling your limp body. Pulling back to see your face, Chan locks eyes with you, his cheeks flushed and hair messy from you running your fingers through it. You’re sure you can’t look much better, your world having just been completely rocked by the handsome man above you. He smiles sweetly at you, his hand coming up to caress your face, brushing sweat soaked hair off your forehead.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, thumb brushing your bottom lip lightly, your mouth still swollen from your earlier activities. You blush heavily, heat soaring to your face, a smile pulling at your lips. Chan’s expression is sincere, eyes dancing across your features before locking in on your mouth, thumb still tracing your lip. He leans in, plush lips meeting yours, a gentle kiss full of emotion that makes your chest feel warm and your head dizzy.

Chan pulls away, sucking in a breath before placing a peck on the tip of your nose. You giggle once again, Chan resting his forehead to yours, smile plastered on his face. You stay like that, recovering together, Chans thumb brushing against your cheeks gently. After a short while, you start to wiggle beneath him, your legs still pinned to the side, Chan still fully sheathed within you, though now almost completely soft. You needed to stretch out, body beginning to ache from the intense fucking it just endured. Chan takes the hint, counting to three before sliding out of you, the two of you hissing at the sensation, both completely overstimulated. He flops to the side of you, his muscles flexing with every movement, propping up with his arm bent, head resting in his hand facing you. You stretch out your legs, sighing in relief before mimicking his body position, facing him. You grimace slightly, sore from head to toe, causing Chan to look concerned. You smile softly, reaching your hand up to cup his cheek, Chan leaning into your touch immediately.

“I’m okay, Channie, promise.” His eyes sparkle at the nickname, dimples appearing from under the edge of your palm. Chan brings his free hand up to rest on your hip, lightly grazing the bruises made by his firm grip earlier. His smile slips slightly. “I promise.” You reiterate, bringing his gaze back up to meet yours. He stares into your eyes, like he’s searching for any deception hidden within them. Knowing he won’t find any, you stare back, focusing on his dark, caring eyes, noticing the light freckles sprinkled around them for the first time, along with a mole hidden within his eyebrow. How can someone be so perfect?

“Am I supposed to be impressed by that performance, Hyung? That was nothing! I’m still going!” Lee Know’s strained voice rings out, breaking the silence immediately. Both your and Chan’s heads snap in the direction of MinSung’s tent, reality crashing back to you. Hannie is crying out, sobbing, begging Minho to let him cum. Your jaw drops, the sincerity of your and Chan’s moment long gone, amazed at the true stamina of Lee Minho. Chan’s eyes are wide, eyebrows practically touching his hairline as he shakes his head side to side.

“You’re insane, Lee! Alright, alright, you win! For gods sake, give Jisung a fucking break, you maniac!” Chan bellows back, grinning through the shock.

You can hear Min chuckle darkly in his victory, panting heavily. “Fucking, finally! Hold on tight, Jagi!” The wet skin on skin sounds pick up their pace, Ji’s voice hoarse and broken as he shrieks out. You clamp your hand over your mouth to hold in your laughter, burying your forehead into Chan’s muscled chest. With an earth-shattering roar, Lee Know groans out, signaling his release, Han mimicking him perfectly. You can hear their intense pants, Ji whimpering slightly. “So, round two?” Min questions, toying with Ji, a playful smack ringing through camp.

“LEE KNOW! NO!” Jisung cries out, the interaction causing the four of you to burst out laughing, helping to ease the mood into a more casual setting. Chan wraps his toned arms around you, pulling your naked body flush with his, your face buried between his pecs. He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, still chuckling warmly to the sounds of MinSung bickering with one another in their tent.

“It is a valid question, you know…” Chan mumbles through your hair, his dick beginning to twitch against your thigh as one of his hands glides down to gently squeeze your ass.

“Chan!” You try to shove him away from you, squealing as he grips you closer to him, laughter jostling his whole body as he holds you.

The two of you spend the rest of the night like that, giggling and playfully wrestling as you talk, really taking the time to get to know each other. It isn’t until the sun begins its ascent into the sky, light peeking through the tent that you let your eyes flutter closed, no longer able to fight off sleep. Your body is sore, but blissfully comfortable while being tucked warmly in Chan’s embrace, soft smiles present on both of your faces. You guess Lee Know really DOES know what he’s doing.

[hwanghhjinie]

୨୧ SKZ COLLECTION ୨୧

⟢ SERIES

⟡ younger girlfriend series

⟡ older girlfriend series

⟡ romantic pursuit series

⟡ the chase series

⟢ OT8 CORNER

⟡ where the silence began ▸ two

⟡ eight apologies ▸ two ▸ three ▸ four

⟡ before it’s too late

⟡ amidst the chaos

⟡ almost lost ▸ two ▸ three

⟡ for life

⟡ the ninth star

⟡ almost a stray

⟡ always nine

⟡ skzoo guardian

⟡ stay with us

⟡ here for you

⟡ scar reveal

⟡ dancing in silence

⟡ afterthought ▸ two

⟡ stay a while

⟡ bruises ▸ two

⟡ the hollow — mini series

⟡ broken trust

⟢ REACTIONS

⟡ starstruck

↳ when you film a music video with skz

⟡ private show

↳ when you wear a lingerie

⟡ accidentally kiss

↳ when you accidentally kiss

⟡ table talk

↳ when you fart in a serious moment

⟡ i think i like

↳ when you listen to a sad song

⟡ say it again

↳ when you call him oppa

⟡ naked-handed

↳ when you take off your wedding ring

⟡ my strong girl

↳ when they take care of you

⟡ stupid bra

↳ when they struggle to take your bra off

⟡ mascot rivalry

↳ when they get jealous of their skzoos

⟡ pepero game

↳ when you play the pepero game with them

⟡ bride to be

↳ when you have a bachelorette party

⟡ bad timing

↳ getting interrupted during a heated moment

⟡ half awake

↳ when you wake up from anesthesia

⟢ HEADCANONS

⟡ comfort in quiet

↳ skz x mute!reader

[wonubug]

HEARTBEAT ⭑

PAIRING: Streamer!Soul x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You and Soul are faceless streamers who love to egg your viewers on :3 Smirk

DISCLAIMERS: Kinda suggestive. so tbh minors / ageless blogs DNI. kinda implied that they’re also Lowkey adult creators (Get that bag) andddd Soul a lil freaked out on main ig (Squint.) you and him both. Ok? also jongseob feature cuz Yay

💌 mika’s message! HEEEYYYYY…. i wanted to write more soul. So here’s soul. Ok bye that’s all. idk Is it serving chud Lmk but im going to bed now…. i just wanted to post this……

sexy people on my tag list: @u2jwon @wdcsvt @xionvlog @endoll @chccnne @aesprn @pedriache @jj0ngieluvr @seobsongz @smiles4hyuck @xionvlog @sugaryemma @seonghwaswifeuuuu @kamxstar @ccamisosa @bookyeom

JOIN MY 18+ P1ECE / KPOP SERVER!!!

[velvetdolor]

DIRTY LITTLE FREAK

GENRE: PWP, SUB! EX-BULLY READER x DOM! READER.

SYNOPSIS: Song Mingi’s nothing like the boy who bullied you relentlessly in high school. When you meet at a blind group date, you’re a woman on a mission: Take Mingi home and show him you’re nothing like the girl you used to be.

WARNINGS: sub! mingi, size kink, degradation, toys, oral, impact play, unprotected sex, finger sucking (LOL), and riding. bonus: mingi wears a harness :) NSFW, MDNI 18+!

Mingi’s softer. That’s the first thing you notice.

Long blond hair frames his face in a way that makes him look almost cherubic. Rosy cheeks—pink lips. Gone is the rugged punk who relentlessly bullied you in high school.

He doesn’t recognize you. There’s no way he does.

To him, you’re just another beautiful woman on a blind group date—one who apparently doesn’t mind getting caught staring.

You smile when he finally notices. The tips of his ears turn pink, and he flinches, shy beneath your gaze.

"What's your name?"

When Mingi finally works up the courage to ask, he laces his fingers together, eyes lifting just long enough to study your face before they dart back down again.

You answer back softly with your name, every movement calm and effortless. Plucking an olive from your martini, you slip the toothpick between your lips and pull it free with practiced ease.

“I’m Song—”

“Mingi,” you finish for him, flashing a toothy grin.

His brows lift. “Oh... do you know me?”

Your dark eyes linger on him, impossible to read. A slow smile curls at your lips. “Something like that.”

You lean forward just enough for the movement to feel intentional. He whips his head to the side, throat bobbing when he stared at the way your tits pushed together for a second too long. You arch a brow before continuing.

“But I’ll know you even better if you come home with me tonight.”

He chokes on his Sprite, sputtering as the soda sprays across the table.

The guy beside him jerks upright with a curse, eyes bulging as he stares at Mingi.

"Dude—what the fuck?"

Mingi looks seconds away from dying of embarrassment. "...I am so fucking sorry."

The guy just shakes his head, muttering under his breath as he heads for the bathroom.

"Sorry," you say lightly. "Too forward? You can say no."

Mingi's head snaps up. "Oh, God. Please take me home with you."

The words tumble out before he can stop them.

His eyes go wide. A slow, crimson blush spreads across his face as he realizes he'd been a little... too eager. "I mean—" He squeezes his eyes shut. "Fuck."

You sit in silent victory for a couple of seconds before raising your credit card.

"Check, please?" Handing it over smoothly, you add "And I'm paying for his too."

When you make your way to the taxi with Mingi trailing behind you, you're grateful there's no moon tonight. If he'd gotten a better look at your face, he would've seen the unnerving smile etched across it. There was only one thing you had in mind:

Song Mingi, I'm nailing you to the fucking bed.

𝜗ৎ

High school was a cliché down to the T.

Boys poked and prodded at you with all the contradictions of adolescence. You were either too ugly to acknowledge or someone they wanted to sleep with in secret.

And Song Mingi stood at the forefront of it all.

He never bothered to remember your name. Instead, he'd go out of his way to laugh at you in the middle of class, just to hear everyone else join in. Crumpled balls of notebook paper bounced off the back of your head. Snickers followed you through the hallways. He'd always call you a little freak.

It wasn't just Mingi. Almost every boy in school seemed to have it out for you. You never really understood why—all you knew was that it was rarely kind.

On the better days, though, Mingi would scratch the back of his head in frustration before quietly leaving a carton of juice on your desk when you were too scared to eat in the lunchroom. One time, he shoved a guy for cornering you in the hallway.

Those moments almost felt like apologies.

Awkward and gangly, just like him. But even then, it never stopped.

When you were younger, you tried to understand him. You really did. During your self-help phase, every audiobook insisted people were more than the worst things they'd ever done. That forgiveness made you the better person.

You wanted to believe that. But you were way too fucking pissed.

From there, your life became the kind of rags-to-riches story people loved to tell. You went to college but still carried that adolescent rage with you. Every man you slept with became an emotional punching bag—a place to dump every humiliation, insult, and wound high school had left behind.

By the time you graduated, you were unrecognizable.

Confident—a little shameless, even. Years later, you stopped hiding behind your hair. For you, revenge wasn't getting even. It was becoming prettier and successful enough to look down on everyone who'd ever tried to make you feel small—from an empire you'd built with your own two hands.

And then, one day, you met the right kind of man. The kind who begged for your spit and paid you for it.

It was good money. Still is.

And quite frankly—you can't wait to show Mingi what the years have done to you.

𝜗ৎ

"You know—it's funny," you say, gaze drifting up to the ceiling with a soft sigh. The tasseled paddle taps against your palm in a lazy rhythm, like a metronome while you think.

Mingi's a mess beneath you. Spit drips in wet lines down his bobbing throat, pooling in the hollow of his twitching chest. His soft pants try to escape around the gag, strangled and useless.

He'd taken to it more readily than you expected. When you waltzed into your condo earlier that evening, you gave him the rundown fast and sharp—I don't bottom, I call the shots, here's the safeword—and tossed him the harness to see if he'd flinch.

He didn't. Just ran his thumb over the leather and asked if you had something in his size.

The harness you cinched around him earlier does exactly what it's meant to—squeezes his chest together, keeps him taut and presented. His eyes have rolled back, tears gathering at the edges of his long lashes. Strands of soft platinum blond hair cling to the sweat on his cheek, plastered there like silk against glass.

You press the button. The cock ring underneath his underwear kicks up a notch and Mingi lurches forward, hips jerking, only to be snapped back by the ropes. The restraints bite into his skin and he groans, the sound vibrating against the ball gag.

You smile.

It's enough to cut through the haze—Mingi forces his eyes open, struggling to focus on your face. You lean forward, hands braced on your knees, dropping to his eye level.

"You used to call me a little freak," you say, almost conversational. "All the time in high school."

The words hit him like cold water. It's frighteningly sobering. Mingi jolts, genuine surprise cutting through the pleasure-drunk fog.

"But look what we have here?" You tilt your head, letting the paddle trace a slow line down his sternum. "Song Mingi, the biggest jackass of my entire high school career... turns out to be the dirtiest fucking freak of them all."

His eyes roll back: hips thrusting forward on pure instinct, rutting into empty air, back arching in a sharp curve as another groan tears from his throat.

Your eyes widen, jaw dropping—and then you're laughing, bright and delighted.

"Ha! Did you just—" You lean closer, delighted. "Did you just have a dry orgasm?"

It's cute. Everything about him is so unbearably cute.

Then, all at once, a sick little epiphany settles over you.

Maybe this is what all those overpriced self-help journals had been trying to tell you all along.

Finding someone to be so pathetic can feel like forgiveness.

And now, he looks so pathetic, you adore the way he looks when he's ashamed.

You reach forward, fingers finding the buckle of the ball gag. It comes loose with a soft click, and you pull it free—a thin line of saliva trails after it, glistening in the light before you toss it aside. It hits the floor with a wet thud somewhere behind you.

You're still straddling him, knees bracketing his hips. You brace your hands on his chest, feeling the rise and fall beneath your palms, the heat of his skin through the harness.

"So," you say, quiet now. The edge in your voice has softened to something almost gentle. "Tell me, Mingi. You want to stop?"

You've had your fun. If he safeworded right now, walked out— you'd let him. No strings.

He stares up at you, eyes wide and glassy, tears finally spilling over to track down his temples. His breath hitches.

"N-no." His voice is wrecked, raw from the gag. "Please. Let me stay."

The smile that curves your mouth is genuine this time. "What a good boy."

You lean down, pressing your lips to the sharp line of his jaw, then higher—his cheek, the corner of his eye. You pepper kisses across his eyelids, tasting salt.

"Still wanna stay and fuck the girl you bullied?"

He sniffles, and the sound is almost laughable coming from someone his size—big, broad-shouldered, built like he could break you in half. But he looks so angelic and soft right now.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I liked you."

You go dreadfully still. "The fuck do you mean you liked me?"

Mingi swallows hard, trying to compose himself. He doesn't look at the way your thighs are pressed against his hips, the damp patch on his abdomen where you've been grinding against him.

"I didn't know how to..." He exhales shakily. "I didn't know how to deal with it. Liked—liking when people treated me a certain way."

He pauses, gathering the words like they're heavy stones.

"You probably don't remember this. But the first time we actually met wasn't homeroom."

"Sophomore homeroom, first day." you say automatically.

He shakes his head slowly. "No. Last day of freshman year. You were—some guys were messing with you in the hall. You ran into me after, literally ran into me, and you were furious. Called me a piece of shit." He hesitates, throat working. "Spit on me, too."

Your brow furrows. You don't—

"And I got hard," he confesses, voice barely audible. "Right there. Couldn't... after that, I couldn't get off to anything else. Couldn't stop thinking about it. About someone—about you—degrading me like that."

He finally meets your eyes, desperate and bare.

"So I started treating you the way I wanted you to treat me. I was shitty to you because I wanted you to be shitty back. I wanted—" He breaks off, jaw tight.

You stare at him.

"That's..." You sit back, processing. Your hands are still on his chest, but they're lighter now, almost hovering. "That's fucked up, Mingi. That's genuinely atrocious."

You shift your weight, thighs pressing harder against his hips. Your hand finds his jaw, thumb brushing the mark your slap would leave. "Safeword check. Remember what I told you?"

"Kitty." The word comes out rough, immediate. He's still locked in, pupils blown wide.

"What's your red? Your no goes."

"I don't..." He swallows. "Don't like being choked. Or spanked."

"Slapping?"

His breath catches. "Green."

Your hand moves before your brain catches up—palm cracking across his cheek, snapping his head to the side. The sound is sharp, obscene.

"You liked me?" Your voice drops, dangerous and low. You grip his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You couldn't even fucking recognize me, sick fuck."

"If you really mean it," you say, "then show me."

Your thumbs hook into your underwear, sliding them down your thighs. You step out, kicking them aside, then move over him—knees settling on either side of his head, lowering yourself until you hover just above his mouth. Close enough that he can smell you. Feel your heat.

"Then fucking eat."

Mingi doesn't hesitate. He surges up, mouth finding you with a desperation that makes your breath catch—thick lips closing around your clit, suction immediate and hungry. He drags his tongue upward in one long, flat stroke, pressing firm so he can taste all of you, everywhere, the broad muscle working relentlessly against you.

You're soaked. A thin line of wetness escapes, trickling down to his jaw, pooling in the hollow of his cheek before he swipes it away with another pass of his tongue.

He flicks the tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit. The sensation zips up your spine like current as you roll your hips, pressing down harder, grinding against the bridge of his nose until you feel the bone.

The view from above wrecks you.

Mingi's pupils are blown wide, eyes rolled back to crescents of white, lashes fluttering. The rope has bitten deep into his big arms, the skin there flushing an angry, bitter red. His platinum hair spreads across the wet sheets in tangled strands, darkening where sweat and spit have soaked through.

You have to force yourself to breathe.

Below, his hips piston upward in empty thrusts, rutting against nothing. The thin black jock you gave him strains tight, a dark, spreading patch blooming at the front where he's leaked through the fabric, desperate and untouched.

Finally, you take a closer look. Pausing your grinding almost curiously—thoroughly impressed.

"You act like such a fucking pussy," you breathe, rolling your hips down harder. "But you're hung like you could actually break me. Might snap me in half before I get the chance to break you in."

You sink lower, settling your full weight over his mouth and nose. His breath hot against your thigh.

Mingi doesn't panic at the weight of you. He doubles down, mouth working frantically beneath you, lapping and sucking like a man on a mission.

You feel him still beneath you—muscles tensing, heels digging into the mattress with a groan. Mingi tries to lap at you, almost languidly.

You reach down, fingers sliding under the jock's band, and tug him free. He's hot in your palm, throbbing, and you roll the ring off in one quick motion.

and when he cums, he cums hard.

His head snaps back, a ragged sound tearing from his throat, and he comes in thick ropes that stripe his heaving chest, his trembling stomach—one landing high enough to catch the edge of his parted lips, his flushed cheek.

You don't give him time to recover before your mouth is on him, cleaning off the excess still dribbling down the ridge of his cock.

"Sit up." You instruct.

You shift off him and move to his wrists, unbinding the ropes with practiced efficiency. Mingi flexes his fingers, opening and closing his hands to chase the blood back into them.

"Is this all you wanted?" You arch a brow, voice dropping soft. "Some attention?"

You smooth a strand of hair from his forehead, tuck it behind his ear. Your palm curves along his jaw, thumb dragging across his lower lip—pressing, testing. "Open."

He parts his lips slowly, tongue easing out in offering before flattening, stretching down toward his chin. Submissive. Empty—waiting.

"All those years acting out..." You trace his mouth with your eyes. "And this is what you were after."

Your index and middle fingers slide onto his tongue, pressing down against the wet heat of it. He's salivating already, slick gathering against your skin, salt mixing with salt.

His eyes well up—glossy, desperate—and you swear you've never seen anything this pretty. Not when his brows curve down in that perfect blend of pleasure and ache as your fingers prod the back of his throat. Not when his moans vibrate against your palm, when everything is wet: your hand, his lashes, his jaw, rivulets of spit trailing down to pool in the hollows of his collarbones.

"Or is this what you wanted?" You push deeper, feeling him gag softly around your knuckles. "My hand down your throat?"

He sits before you, hands braced on your hips, staring up with something almost puppy-like in its devotion. He nods—shameless, earnest.

"All I ever wanted." His voice is husky, worn thin with exhaustion and lingering need.

"All that effort," you laugh, "just to be used like a little toy."

You grip his cock—still slick and firm before giving him a few rough strokes. Then you lift your hips and sink down onto him in one motion, sheathing him completely.

His eyes roll back.

You pause. Five full seconds of mercy, feeling him throb inside you, watching his mouth fall open. Then you begin to move—slow, intentionally brutal of your hips against his. Your fist reaches to tighten in his hair.

Mingi stutters out a sound, half moan, half embarrassed cry that catches in his throat. "S-shit!"

It burns—his girth stretching you wide, delicious and punishing, throbbing like it has its own pulse. Your ass smacks against his thighs with every downward stroke, the skin there flushing red from impact. His whole body shakes beneath you, oversensitive and overwhelmed.

You lean down, tongue tracing the column of his throat, then hover above his mouth.

Your spit falls between you.

Mingi's lips part. His tongue catches it, heavy-lidded and delirious. He swallows slow, forcing his eyes to stay open—locked on yours, asking without words: See? Aren't I good for you?

You spit again—except this time, it falls directly between your tits. Mingi licks up your sternum, eyes still locked on yours.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall with fatal precision. Your tits bounce with the force of it.

He's fucking huge. Taking him feels like being pushed to your absolute limits—every throb and twitch forces you to accommodate him inch by inch, your body yielding to the sheer weight of him. It's a feat in itself just to fit all of him.

But then something shifts.

Mingi tilts his head back, eyes closed, offering himself up in a silent plea for the kiss he's too scared to ask for.

You answer by catching his bottom lip between your teeth, biting just hard enough to leave indentations before releasing. He sighs into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close until your chests flush together. You flinch at the sudden contact—the leather of his harness, still warm from his skin, brushes against your nipples.

His tongue sweeps against yours, jaw loosening to take you deeper.

“Fuck," he breathes, hands sliding to your hips to pull you down against him. It’s urgent—hot in ways you can’t say you expected riding Mingi after years of hating him would be.

"If you cum in me, I'll kill you."

"Mhm. Fuck—" He hisses against your mouth, breath ragged as he drives you down on him. "Yes ma'am."

His palms spread over your ass, gripping tight and rocking you in a rhythm that has you gliding up and down effortlessly.

He looks over your shoulder and spreads you wider, staring down at where your bodies meet. When he pulls out to watch you gape open, you can't even summon the energy to be annoyed—you just shove him back down and ride him. Hard.

His hands grip your waist, admiring the way you bounce on his cock, the soft give of your body. He looks at himself, at the white mess coating his shaft. "So fucking creamy."

You grab his face, pinching his cheeks until his mouth puckers, then slap him—sharp—and shove two fingers past his lips, gripping the wet heat of his inner cheek as you slam down on him.

"Shit—you feel so good," he whines, long blonde hair falling into his eyes. "Wait, I'm cumming—"

His face goes panicked, puppy-desperate. You smile softly. “Mhm. You can cum on my tummy."

You fall back, working your clit to finish yourself off, fighting the urge to pull him deeper and cave to your (covert) need to have him cum inside do you.

His large body shadows yours as he buries his face in your neck with a cry, once you rub the tip of his cock with the palm of your hand.

"Clean it," you manage, barely audible.

Mingi drags his tongue across your hipbone, down the soft curve of your stomach, licking himself off you with something like tired worship. He finds your hand, sucking at your palm, sliding wet kisses between your fingers.

He lies flat then, face buried in your thigh, and spreads you open to taste what's still dripping from you.

Wordlessly, you pull him into your arms and cradle him against your chest.

You brush his hair back from his forehead, cupping his face as your thumb gently wipes the sweat from his temple.

“…I really did like you back then,” he mumbles, his face still buried between your breasts.

You let out a quiet hum. “Oh? Did you now?”

He groans into your chest. “God… fuck high school. Truly.”

His arms tighten around your waist.

More than anything, he hopes high school Mingi hasn’t completely ruined things for the version of him that finally might get the girl.

fin.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: sub mingi in the year of our lord. a quick writeeee + bonus photos of what mingi looks like in dirty little freak :3

[3racha-agustd]

Every morning I open Tumblr like it's the newspaper, searching for fanfiction.

[jujunna]

when the fanfic got me wearing straight bullshit in public

[imaginaryconcepts]

I don't judge predebut hyunjin for having beef with predebut han cuz If I had theodore the chipmunk in human form in front of me acting like a bossy bitch I'd be enraged as hell.

no hate tho, I love predebut han with my heart, I think that my whole blog says it very loudly.

[itwilra]

oh to be 13 again reading fanfiction till the sun came up 😞😞