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she/her, 22. mostly thirsting for baekhyun, but full time exol!
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❣
𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 <𝟑 𝐛𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧 .ᐟ ۶ৎ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 kinktober with 6 drabbles and two full lengths (for now) of various prompts !!!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬
𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫:
baekhyun had his four year girlfriend break up with him, which left him without a true sense of direction. he'd only find it when another woman led the way, he just didn't know it was straight to hell.
♡ warnings: 4,8k words. cursing, dom and sub undertones leaning (barely) towards femdom, hooking up, marking, power play, mutual pining, oral sex m!receiving, cumplay, hair pulling, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, pet names, slight degradation, creampie, oral fixation, brief mention of violence.
𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫:
you never really let yourself get too close to the friend of your friends, baekhyun, while he got progressively tired of your vanishings everytime you two hooked up. it's only in a pivotal moment in his audi where you two lay your feelings bare. in more ways than one.
♡ warnings: 6k words. cursing, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, semi but almost public car sex (i'm not sorry), hair pulling, dirty talking, dry humping, fingering, oral sex f!receiving, cumplay, oral fixation, marking, p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, creampie (get used to it), cock warming, overall pure filth! you have been warned!
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨—𝟐 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 (new!): establishing your relationship with baekhyun, someone well enduring both professionally and emotionally, was a gray space for both him and you, even after months from your starting point. new struggles and way more serious insecurities are uncovered the closer he gets to your heart, which may be the thing you needed most in the first place.
♡ warnings: 5,7k words. semipublic car sex, fluff! considerable angsty thoughts, cursing, unspecified age gap, brief alcohol consumption, making out, looooots of dirty talking, praising, brief degradation kink, dom and sub undertones (both reader and b are switch tbh), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay, cum eating, hair pulling, spanking, marking, biting, multiple rounds, nipple play (f receiving), overstim, moar fluff!
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮:
as baekhyun's girlfriend, you missed him the most when he enlisted, and wanted to give him all the support you knew he needed in one of your visits, even if that meant sneaking around to make up for time apart.
♡ warnings: 4,7k words. cursing tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, nonidol!au, pet names, slight size difference, semipublic sex (barely), dirty talking, fingering, oral sex f!receiving, baekhyun is pussy drunk again, p in v, mentions of belly inflation, unprotected sex, creampie, biting, marking, slight possessiveness.
𝐟.𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮. 𝐜.𝐚𝐧 𝐤.𝐞𝐞𝐩 (soon):
teaser!
college veteran nerd!baekhyun was so sweet helping you with computational basics and programming that you never even suspected behind his easygoing smile and cute glasses there was an insatiable craving to be under your command.
♡ planned warnings: cursing, college au, fluff, pet names, sextoys, handjob, dirty talking, fingering, oral sex f!receiving, dom & sub undertones, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, a lot of cum play, marking, biting, spanking, hair pulling, face slapping, slight degradation.
𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
lil deviant drabbles and shorts that may or may not be inspired by a video or image of baekhyun!!
drink - warnings: 136 words. oral sex m!receiving, cum eating
soaked - warnings: 538 words. oral f!receiving, b is pussy whipped again, marking, biting, cumplay, cursing, name calling, praising, overstim, dom & sub undertones
vision - warnings: 579 words. cursing, body worship, dom & sub undertones, oral m!receiving, deepthroating, hair pulling, slight breath play, facefucking, titfucking, cum mentions
ultra rapid (fingers) - warnings: 1k words. cursing, praising, petnames, dirty talking, making out, teasing, heavy labia play, messy fingering, edging, begging kink, body worship, pussy slapping, oral f!receiving, orgasm denial, overstim, cum play, cum eating, spit kink, hair pulling
↳ summary: the one constant throughout graduate school and the early years of your academic career has been baekhyun; the annoying, arrogant, thorn in your side that always has a snide comment to make at you each annual conference. this year, something changes.
↳ wc: 16.5k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | academia au (prof x prof), rivals to lovers, smut (mdni), some angst, fluff. baekhyun and reader are both annoying little shits. | nsfw warnings: switchy dynamics, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, overstim, slight breathplay, praise kink, very very brief nipple play (m receiving), raw p in v. | content warning: discussions about past burnout, drinking (no drunk sex)
↳ a/n: it's my birthday and as a birthday gift to myself i have finally written the academia au i've always wanted to write. it's entirely self-indulgent and very wordy and is like 80% dialogue but i'm very very proud of it. it was kind of therapeutic to write as a current phd student and was inspired by general vibes and experiences of others, but obviously are not 1 to 1 representations of things that have happened to me nor are they necessarily what i think about academia. okayyyy enough yapping i hope you enjoy <33
Introduction
This day can’t get any worse.
Your flight is delayed. To make matters worse,you wish you were able to fly out during the day. Instead, you’re forced to fly in the evening since abandoning the class you teach in order to take a more convenient flight is frowned upon, generally. Even then, as you drive to the airport in rush hour traffic, you notice the progressive darkening of the sky as clouds hang low, heavy and full with unshed rain. And sure enough, as you wait in the gate, the first clap of thunder signals to you that you would be stuck here for a long, long time.
As the flight is delayed for a second time, a full hour after your scheduled takeoff, your phone pings.
Hi! Do you want to walk to the opening plenary together?
Stella, your first-year advisee, is a sweet girl, smart as a whip and knows more about occupational health than some people on your level, but she has what you affectionately call first-year clinginess, a tendency of first-years PhD students to hide behind their advisors in a mixture of both social anxiety and a hope for a networking opportunity. As if by sticking with you, they’ll magically be given the opportunity of a lifetime; a paper in a top-tier journal, or a tenure-track job at the most prestigious universities.
Because that’s what these conferences are, right? People will say that they’re to discuss current research, share findings that will soon be published, “foster knowledge”, as some of the older faculty members who already have job security and respect in the field will say. But really, it’s clout-chasing. Shaking hands and swapping LinkedIn QR codes with people that you will most likely never speak to again. For most, it’s really about a socially acceptable environment to get shit-faced with a bunch of your other nerd friends and trying to find the bars that your students are not so likely to show up to.
You remember being like Stella, being so anxious about conferences. You would attend a session every hour, try to strike up a conversation with the panelists afterwards, rehearse your elevator pitch every night in your hotel room. But now? You’re lucky if you even make it to more than one reception.
And to make matters worse, your field’s annual conference always conflicts with—
You roll your eyes and focus on the matter at hand. How childish. You begin to type back your response to Stella.
Sorry, my flight is delayed and I’m missing the plenary. I would walk with Kevin if you can find him!
Oh, okay. See you at lab lunch tomorrow!
It takes another hour, but your flight finally takes off. It’s impossible to get comfortable on the flight, because of course it is. Turbulence shakes you awake every time you start to doze off, and the motion makes it impossible for you to do anything productive on your laptop. The only thing you can do is stare at the back of the seat in front of you, praying that if the plane goes down, it will be a quick and merciful death.
If only this were the end of your misfortunes for the day.
The Uber driver gets lost, and a missed turn adds about twenty minutes to your ride to the hotel. He even has the audacity to ask for your number at the end of it, a sickeningly sleazy smile on his face. By the time you’ve checked in, heading up the elevator to your room, you want nothing more than to just settle in between some crisp hotel sheets, melatonin working its way through your system, a long and dreamless night’s rest before you.
But of course, because this is the day from hell, you just have to run into him.
You’re just about to step into your room, literally one foot inside, when the room next door opens up and out walks Byun Baekhyun.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Baekhyun looks up at the sound of your voice. Just like that, his expression hardens, eyes narrowing in greeting. He looks at you like you’re not a person, rather, a problem to solve. He gets that look in his eye that he always gets when he’s thinking, the gears in his head whirring away. “Just getting in?” he asks, and you know you’re not imagining the slight judgment in his voice.
“My flight was delayed,” you say stiffly. “How was the plenary?”
“You know I don’t go to that,” he scoffs. “I’m heading out to dinner.”
“Judging me for just getting in while you’re actively playing hooky.” You tsk your tongue at him. “Honestly, where do you get the nerve?”
Baekhyun shrugs. “It’s networking.”
“You call everything networking.”
“At least I’m actually doing something productive with my time here instead of just hiding out in my hotel room or attending sessions. It’s a conference. Lighten up a little.” He turns on his heel and heads to the elevators, lifting a hand in goodbye. “See ya around! Or not.”
Fuming, you head into your hotel room. God you can’t stand him, haven’t been able to stand him for years. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you have to see him around year after year, especially on the one day a year you would actually like to be pleasant, now he’s your next door fucking neighbor. You close your eyes and exhale deeply through your nose. It’s fine, it’s fine, you tell yourself. He’s never ruined your birthday before, he wouldn’t start now.
You open your eyes and meet your tired reflection in the mirror. As long as you keep to yourself, keep the interactions with Baekhyun confined to the conference itself, surely things would go smoothly.
“Surely,” you say out loud. The answering silence seems to mock your naivety.
Theoretical Background
You met Byun Baekhyun at your first ever conference.
At your university’s reception, your advisor, Minseok, waved you over from where you were chattering politely with your cohort. “Come here,” he said, smiling warmly, his cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol. “I want to introduce you to a colleague of mine. This is—”
“Dr. Kim!” you exclaimed, then turned red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I really love your work, we have a lot of research interests in common.”
“Call me Junmyeon,” he said, laughing a bit in amusement. “And that’s what Minseok here was telling me. And this,” he waved over someone about your age, “is my first-year, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun smiled at you, and sometimes you think of this moment as the last time you ever thought of Baekhyun with anything other than deep-seated resentment and anger. He stuck out compared to you and the other first-years. Where you felt a bit more formal than the other faculty and professionals in the room, stiff and awkward, Baekhyun seemed more relaxed in his business-casual wear, hands buried in his pockets. “Nice to meet you,” he said coolly. He stuck his hand out to shake yours before resuming his casual posture.
“Maybe we can have a bit of a cross-university collaboration?” Minseok said. He nudged Junmyeon in the side. “Be a bit like the old days?”
“Will you sleep in the lab and pretend like you didn’t even though you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes?”
The four of you laughed good-naturedly. Back then, you thought that this would be the beginning of a beautiful academic relationship, if not a genuine friendship.
That all fell apart the next morning.
You stood in front of your poster, anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. Your first conference! Your first poster! You engaged in some conversations with interested passerby, your pitch perfectly polished. It was going really well for the first half-hour.
And then Baekhyun came.
You’ll never forget the way that he squinted as he read your poster, lips moving as he read the words to himself. You don’t know why his approval mattered so much to you at that moment. Maybe it was because he had an advisor you looked up to, maybe it was because he actually knew the material, maybe it was just because you wanted a friend. It didn’t matter, anyway. All of these hopes and dreams fell by the wayside when he turned to you and said,
“This is wrong. Isn’t it?”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. “What do you mean?”
Baekhyun pointed at your results table. “Your interpretations suggest a full mediation. But there’s a partial mediation in your results, see? So it’s not fully capturing what you’re claiming is the takeaway.”
Your brows furrowed. “Yeah, but a partial mediation is not insignificant. I say that future research should focus on finding the other explanations for the direct pathway.”
Baekhyun shrugged. “I dunno. It kinda seems like too simple an explanation. Partial mediation is just the easy way of saying, ‘We were wrong.’ Also, you know that this is an outdated concept? Like they’re calling for the complete overhaul of it.”
You had not, in fact, known that.
You felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment as your mind clambered for something intelligent to say, some sort of comeback that would save this entire interaction. But your treacherous mind couldn’t, so instead, you just gaped at him.
Baekhyun pursed his lips, seemingly amused at your silence. “I have some ideas about how you can improve the design, we could talk about it sometime. Especially since these days, cross-sectional research isn’t considered good enough for publication.”
You watched as he turned away, already scrutinizing the poster next to yours before you could even reply. Isn’t considered good enough. The words echoed, bouncing around your skull.
Not good enough, not good enough.
The words followed you through the rest of the day, distracting you from the sessions you attended. You forgot people’s names the moment you met them, leading you to try and look at their name tags without them noticing. They even followed you all the way to the next morning, when you found yourself back in the poster hall. At the time, you told yourself that it was just total coincidence that you found yourself in front of Baekhyun’s poster, but the reality probably was that his name in the agenda had caught your eye and you hyperfixated on it, your body able to carry you there without you even realizing.
His poster was good. Really good. Thorough, with advanced statistics to back it up. Impressive implications for both academics and practitioners. It didn’t seem like the work of a first-year, no, it was very, very advanced.
Baekhyun turned to you after wrapping up a conversation with another passerby. “Whad’ya think?” he beamed.
It’s good, you thought. But that sinking, icky feeling from yesterday rose like bile in your throat. You sought for something, anything to pick apart on his poster, to bring him down to where he had left you. He looked at you expectantly, smugly, as if he knew. As if he knew what you were trying to do, and that you were unable to do it.
Aha.
“I think your theoretical argument is a little weak. I can think of two other theories that are stronger and point to what you’re actually looking at. For example, have you heard of Work-Home Resources Theory?”
Baekhyun blinked. “Uh… is it similar to Conservation of Resources?”
You nod enthusiastically, your voice picking up speed and volume as you talk, as it always does when you’re excited. “It’s similar, but better. It’s a more optimistic view of the way people treat their resources, rather than from a depletion and conservation standpoint.”
He opened his mouth, then stopped. His eyes sharpened and the gears in his head turned, turned, turned. “Optimism doesn’t make a theory better. Look, if this is about yesterday, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, I was just suggesting—”
“I’m just making a suggestion too,” you cut in. “This theory takes macro and micro resources into account, as well as the personal resources that an individual builds up over time. If you want to do research that’s more connected with the broader context, you have to take all of those things into consideration.”
You hated the words coming out of your mouth, a mixture of nonsensical buzzwords that the try-hards around you used to sound smart.
But you loved the look on Baekhyun’s face even more.
“You—” For a moment, you saw past his polished yet comfortable attitude, revealing something rawer, electric, inside. The side that all academics had that no one wanted to admit to. Pure, ugly, ego. But just as fast as it had appeared, it melted away, sinking back into the depths of his psyche. “I think we can have a more productive conversation about this some other time, yeah?”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Sure. Anytime.”
You never did have that conversation, and a pattern of constantly trying to one up the other formed. The next year, he returned to your poster, poked holes in your argument with that same smug smile. When he spoke at his first panel, you were in the front row, asking way too many difficult questions. It got so commonplace that when Minseok made you practice your presentations, he asked you to imagine what Baekhyun would say.
This rivalry continued after school as well, as both of you landed assistant professor positions upon graduation. When you won an early career award, Baekhyun was awarded a prestigious grant. When he landed a publication in your field’s top journal, you secured popular press coverage. It was a never-ending cycle, and neither of you were ahead for long enough to get comfortable before the other person overtook them.
Something your students asked you sometimes when they were in the depths of despair, an experiment that wouldn’t work or a fourth round of revisions, was what motivated you to keep going. You fed them the same bullshit answers that anyone would. Doing this research is meaningful or We’re actively contributing to knowledge or even It’s worth it to mentor students like you. All of these things were true to you, in some way and in varying degrees.
But the real truth, the dirty, bitter truth? What kept you going when it was time to be nice to your hostile administration, or deal with an undergrad who was bitter about you not rounding their grade from a C- to an A, or stay up all night writing a new manuscript? It was the look on Baekhyun’s face when you saw him next when he knew you were two steps ahead of him. Nothing pleased you more than the thinly veiled annoyance on his face, the begrudging pleasantries that he was forced to offer you in the company of your peers. You hated him. And that’s what kept you going.
And there was nothing, nothing that could happen that could change your mind.
Methods
You wake up to your phone buzzing on the hotel nightstand. Groggily, you reach out blindly and accept the call without even seeing who it is. “Hello?” you croak into the receiver.
“Happy birthday, my favorite student!” Minseok chirps.
“Minseok, I already know that you call all of your students that.” You yawn, groaning slightly when you look at the time. “And thank you. It means a lot that you remembered.”
“First off, you’re all my favorite students, so it’s not like I’m lying to you. And second, of course I remembered, who do you think I am? I know you hate it when I mention your birthday at the conference so I figured this was the next best thing.”
“At seven in the morning, though?”
“Conference starts at eight~” he sings. “Anyways, we need to catch up! Lunch tomorrow?”
“Sure. But please don’t make me pick the place.”
“I already have the reservation. I’ll see you around!”
You sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. You had definitely hoped to sleep in for another half hour but at this rate you’d never be able to fall back asleep. You get ready lazily, taking breaks to reply to birthday messages from your family and friends. Despite what your introverted tendencies at conferences may have people believe, you actually have a bustling, active social life. You just choose to keep it separate from work, especially this week. It was the best this way, since conferences had a tendency of turning you into someone that you didn’t particularly like being 24/7.
You’d tried that once. It hadn’t ended well.
The convention center is just a short walk from the hotel, so you breathe in the fresh, unfamiliar air as you try to blink the sleep away from your eyes. There’s a winding river in between your hotel and the convention center, and as you pass over the stone bridge, you take a moment to look out at the body of water for a moment of peace. If you had the energy for it, you’d like to explore the city, but right now you’re just trying to take it one day at a time.
As you climb the steps to the convention center, a wave of anxiety suddenly floods through you. What if I don’t see anyone I recognize? What if I do? What if I don’t remember someone’s name but they clearly remember mine? You try to laugh it off as you wrap your hand around the door handle. These are such student thoughts. Surely you’re seasoned enough at this point to know how to do these things. You ignore the fact that there’s still a pit of unease in your stomach, settling to the bottom like a rock in water.
It’s busy, overlapping chatter from dozens of small conversations in the lobby. You don’t immediately recognize anyone you know, and you’re unsure of whether this is a good or a bad thing. You’re looking over the agenda for the morning when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
“Hi!”
Stella looks very polished in her crisp blazer and button-down, but you can see a slight nervousness in her eyes, that flighty, overwhelmed look that you used to recognize in your own reflection as a younger student. “Hi, Stella. Are you ready for today?”
“I guess so,” she chirps. “Are you attending any of the sessions this morning?”
“We’ll see,” you say. “I might have a meeting with some colleagues later but I’ll definitely see you at lunch later.” A bold faced lie, but she doesn’t need to know that. “What sessions did you have in mind?”
“I was looking at this one,” she says, pointing at the timeslot in the agenda. “It sounds interesting.”
“Oof,” says a voice that appears to your right. “Well I know you won’t be going to that.”
“Good morning, Kevin,” you say. Kevin, your other advisee, is just like any fourth year PhD student: extremely jaded, chronically tired, and completely fucking over it. “Keep your voice down, hm? We’re not in the lab right now.”
“It’s not like it’s a secret,” he says matter-of-factly. “Everyone in this room would probably lose their shit if they saw you enter that room.”
“What’s wrong with this session?” Stella says, voice hushed and eyes wide.
“Nothing at all,” you reply. “You should go if it sounds interesting to you.”
“Dr. Byun’s student is on the panel, so he’ll probably be in the room,” Kevin says bluntly.
Even Stella, who hasn’t been a part of this world for even a full year, knows enough to nod solemnly, lips pursed. “Well, I don’t have to go to that, then.”
“I’m just messing with you,” Kevin says quickly. For all his brashness, he at least has a soft spot for her. “I think you should go. It’s not like we have to have an alliance against him.” He casts a sideways glance towards you. “Right?”
You sigh. “No, there’s no alliance. This isn’t a clique, it’s research. You should go.”
Kevin snickers. “Just don’t look Dr. Byun in the eyes. He can smell weakness.”
Stella gulps.
You make it through the morning without attending any sessions, successfully avoiding any wayward conversations until it’s time for lunch. The restaurant is beautiful and bustling with people in businesswear, but luckily you don’t recognize anyone directly. The three of you are seated by a wall of mirrors, reflecting the dining room behind you. Stella looks through the menu with a concerned eye. “All of this is really…”
“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “It’s my treat.”
“...Alcohol too?” she asks softly.
“Welcome to grad school,” Kevin says. “We get paid dirt for five years so you might as well get some free drinks when your advisor’s offering.”
Some faculty might bristle at Kevin’s bluntness, but you welcome it with open arms. It wasn’t long ago anyway since Kevin was exactly where Stella was, nervous and overly polite (as hard as that is to believe). Since your first student graduated, you know that he’s been jumping at the chance to be a mentor. Even if it’s in his own, less than savory way.
You don’t get a chance to decide whether or not to chastise him before the server approaches the table. “Welcome in, may I start you all off with any drinks today?” she asks.
“Yes, can I just get a mimosa to start with?” you say.
“Can I see some ID?”
You pull it out for her and wince when she gasps. Shit. “Happy birthday!” she says.
“It’s your birthday?!” Kevin and Stella say in unison.
You put your finger to your lips to shush them. They finish ordering their drinks before they turn their attention back to you. “Happy birthday!” Stella says.
“How come you’ve never mentioned that it’s your birthday before?” Kevin asks.
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you reply. “I still don’t.”
“Well… we can pay for lunch if you want,” Stella chirps, ignoring Kevin’s glare.
You smile. “That’s very sweet of you but all I want for my birthday is to pay for your lunches and to not mention it anymore.”
Lunch continues smoothly. You like spending time with your students outside of the lab meetings or campus in general. The conversation drifts into work sometimes, but not often enough to make it seem like an official meeting. Instead, they talk about their lives: what they plan to see in the city outside of conference hours, what their summer plans are, the latest social media thing that you’re blissfully unaware of. It reminds you of your lunches with Minseok when you were in their shoes, and that thought comforts you. It tells you that you’re on the right track, that you’re doing something right with your life.
Kevin’s eyes dart behind you and a shadow of annoyance flickers across his face. “Don’t look now,” he mutters.
You don’t even have to. Baekhyun’s loud, corrosive laugh is warning enough before you see his reflection pass in the mirror in front of you. He’s here with his students too, all seven of them. Of course, ever the overachiever, he didn’t stop at accepting one grad student a year (already a considerable task given that each student needs and deserves enough attention to feel like they’re thriving). He sometimes accepted multiple per cycle, so even without counting any undergraduate research assistants, the size of his lab is easily one of the largest in your field.
“I wonder if his students are happy,” Kevin hums as they pass. “There’s gotta be some serious favoritism, right?”
“Actually, I met one of his first years at the plenary last night,” Stella says. “She said that Dr. Byun gives them all equal attention, and he’s a really great advisor.” She wilts under Kevin’s stare. “What? I thought we said there were no alliances?”
“There aren’t,” you say pointedly. You pick at the edges of your food, trying to hide the loss of your appetite.
“Am I… allowed to ask what happened?” Stella says timidly. “Like, is he abusive? Is he someone I should watch out for?”
You sigh. “Baekhyun and I have a complicated history. He is not abusive, and he does good science. If you ever want to collaborate with him, or with any of his students, that is your choice and you are free to do so. I just ask that you don’t involve me.”
Kevin leans over and cups the side of his mouth, whispering exaggeratedly. “That’s professional speak for he’s super smart but he’s a massive asshole.”
On your way out of the restaurant, you pass by Baekhyun’s table. A couple of his students notice you and immediately exchange glances with each other, but for the most part, you slip by undetected.
Or so you think.
At the last second before exiting the building, Baekhyun coolly looks at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in an infuriating smirk. Bye, he mouths, winking.
You resist the urge to punch him in the face.
“We definitely need to chat, I just loved your latest paper. Do you want to grab dinner with some friends and me tonight?”
You nod, lips closed tightly as you swallow the mouthful of champagne. This reception has gone on long enough, you think, even if Jongin, the newest addition to your faculty, is genuinely good company. “I’m actually going to call it an early night tonight, I’m afraid. I don’t quite have the energy of you young kids anymore.”
Jongin laughs. “Well, at least I’ll be close to tenure when I’m where you’re at. I’ll take going to bed early for some job security any time. We should schedule lunch when we get back then?”
“Sure,” you smile, weariness hanging around the edges of your eyes. “Well, good night. Enjoy the rest of the conference.”
You say a quick goodbye to Stella and Kevin before hurrying out the doors and into the cool night. These are the moments of conferences that you like the most: wandering around the streets in a new city alone, alternating between looking at a map on your phone and trying to commit the surrounding streets to memory. You pause by the river again, the water now reflecting a deep midnight shade. It’s nice to have just a moment to yourself, a quiet few seconds where you don’t need to worry about looking professional. You continue on your way, ducking into a local convenience store right next to the hotel to find what you’re looking for: a small, personal birthday cake. The frosting is a little lumpy and the price is maybe a bit too high for what you’re getting, but it will do for tonight.
As you make your way back to the room, you’re too distracted by scrolling through your delivery app to find some takeout for dinner to notice that Baekhyun’s in the hallway.
“Already heading in?”
You nearly drop your phone in shock, narrowing your eyes when you see who it is. He’s already changed out of his business casual clothes and into a sweater and dark jeans.
“Skipping the receptions?” you ask.
“The one for my university was last night.”
“I thought you went to dinner last night.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know there was a one social event limit per night. Are you my mom now?”
“Nice comeback. Didn’t realize we were in elementary school,” you sneer.
Baekhyun peers around you, peeking into the plastic bag in your arms. “What’s that? Drugs?”
You laugh sharply. “Even if it was, I wouldn’t share. Go find your own.”
He grins lopsidedly, leaning his arm against the wall. “C’mon, just one peek? I wanna know what you’re getting up to that’s so good you won’t join any of the festivities tonight.”
His tone brings about a burst of anger in you. Usually you’re immune to his antics but it’s your birthday and you’re tired and all you want to do is sit on the floor of this hotel room and eat your cake in some peace and quiet. “It’s actually none of your fucking business,” you spit.
Your outburst surprises him. You can see it on his face, the way his eyebrows knit together, lips parting ever so slightly. For all the backhanded compliments and petty arguments, you’ve never actually raised your voices at each other. He recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair, though his voice is hard enough to cut. “Well, whatever. Have fun holing up and being a hermit while the rest of us humans actually interact.”
That does it. Something deep within you snaps. Your annoyance overflows, bubbling up to the surface until you’re sure that your face is bright red. You press your keycard to the door and open it, shoving one foot in the doorway while you have one last word. “You know, I’d rather be anti-social and be by myself than spend my birthday with a fucking asshole like you, who thinks you’re better than everyone else just because your h-index is higher. Christ.”
The last thing you see before the door slams shut is the look of pure shock on Baekhyun’s face.
You take a shower just how you like it: scalding hot and incredibly long. While you’re in there, the frustrations of the whole interaction melts away. You’re actually a tad disappointed in yourself. It’s fun to make witty digs back and forth in the middle of a convention center. It’s not so fun to blow up at him, emotions vulnerable and on full display.
You’re in the middle of drying your hair and trying to come up with ways to get back at him when there’s a soft knock on the door.
Baekhyun looks like a kicked puppy. You can practically imagine his tail tucked between his legs, ears flattened low against his head. In one hand, he holds a bottle of wine and in the other, a plastic bag of takeout.
“This is for you,” he says softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
You regard him for a moment. You have a chance here to reject him, make him feel as awful as he made you feel. You could slam the door in his face and tell him to shove that wine bottle up his ass. But…
He looks up, dark eyes shining with real remorse. Not even a hint of the smug superiority that you’re so used to seeing reflected back at you.
You reach out and take the items from him. “Thank you,” you say. And against your better judgment, you open the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”
Baekhyun raises his eyebrows. “Oh. I didn’t think you wanted me here. I only got enough food for one. But I have some leftovers that I can grab and I can eat with you if you want.”
“Sure.” He runs next door to his room and the thought settles in that you’re about to spend your birthday dinner with Byun Baekhyun. Past you would never have imagined that it would come to this. Hell, the you from this morning would never have imagined that it would come to this.
You eye the leftover container in his hands when he returns, identical to the one that you’re currently holding. “Is this from the same place?”
“Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “It’s really good! I got you something different though, I remember you don’t like pork.”
“You… remember that?” You remember making some offhand comment about it years ago when he was in earshot, but it’s something that most people don’t really remember, let alone Byun Baekhyun.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I have a really good memory,” he says.
You settle onto the floor across from each other and start digging into your food. The food is really good, and it is nice to have someone with you for your birthday, you suppose. But…
This whole thing is horrifically awkward.
What do you even say to someone who you’ve only spent making passive-aggressive digs at for the better part of a decade who suddenly decides to be nice for a change? After you compliment the food and he agrees with you, awkward silence descends over the two of you like a dark cloud. You don’t know where to look— at him? The food in front of you? The floor? Even Baekhyun, who you’ve never seen fumble at a social interaction in his life, seems to be at a loss for words.
“This is… awkward, right?” you say finally, breaking the tense bubble.
He laughs in relief, the tension in his shoulders releasing. He finally fully meets your gaze. “I’m glad you said something about it. I don’t do very well when it’s quiet.”
“I’m used to it,” you say. “I’ve grown to like it a lot.”
Baekhyun frowns slightly. “How come you never told anyone that it’s your birthday? We have the same circles and no one even mentioned it.”
You shrug. “I’ve always accepted that the conference will coincide with it, and everyone’s always so busy with different meetings and session prep if I’m not busy myself. I just decided that it’s better to not take away from it and just wait to celebrate properly when I’m home with my friends and family. Minseok knows and that’s about it.”
He nods. “Oh, that’s good. I thought that—”
“You thought I was gonna be sitting in here feeling sorry for myself because I had no one to celebrate my birthday with?”
“Well… yeah, kinda,” he says helplessly.
“I have friends, Baekhyun. They’re just not in academia.”
He hums, looking back down at his food. “Wonder what that’s like.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, so you fall back into silence, only this time it doesn’t feel so oppressive. A few minutes pass before he speaks again.
“You know…” he says sharply. “I don’t look down on people if my h-index is higher than theirs.”
You stifle the urge to laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, really. Besides, yours is higher than mine.”
Now you laugh. “Oh, so you care enough to know whose is higher, though.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes, but a smile settles on his face. “Just with you,” he replies easily. “I only care if it’s you.”
“Glad to know the feeling is mutual.” You take another bite of your food before the next thing to say pops in your mind. “Congrats on the Nature publication, by the way.”
“Thanks.” He pauses. “That’s it? No snarky comment?”
“I’m feeling generous. It’s my birthday after all.”
Baekhyun smirks. “We’ll see how you feel when the Nature paper bumps my h-index up. Then you’ll probably write a commentary hit piece on it calling it juvenile.”
“Come on, you know I wouldn’t. I’d rather just wait until next year and give you a couple of jabs here and there.”
“You’re right,” he smiles crookedly. “You wouldn’t do anything that would require any extra work.”
You fake a gasp. “Maybe I will write a commentary piece then.”
“Maybe you should.”
“I will.”
“Fine.”
You hold his gaze defiantly for a few seconds before you sigh. “I can’t. It’s actually a really good paper, Baekhyun.”
The corner of his mouth twitches before settling into a genuine smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“It helps that you cited me too.”
“Yeah, well.” He waves his hand in the air. “Something something, you’re one of the leading scholars in this research area, something something.”
“Aw, Byun,” you coo. “You almost said something nice about me.”
He snorts. “Don’t get used to it. Anyways, what was in the bag? I’m kind of hoping it’s drugs now.”
“Don’t get too excited.” You fish in the bag and pull out the cake. “You want a slice?”
“Fuck yeah, I want a slice. Do you want me to sing for you?”
“Please, no.”
He pouts. “You’ve never even heard me sing. Some have described it as life-changing.”
“Baekhyun, I can barely handle your academic ego on a good day, please don’t have one about other things too.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t sing if you promise to go out with me tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Out? Like…?”
“Oh my God, please, don’t make it weird,” he says quickly. “Me, Chanyeol, whoever else wants to come. You can even invite someone if you want. If you don't, I'm gonna sing happy birthday to you at the top of my lungs.”
“I don’t know Baek—”
“HAPPY—”
“Okay, okay! I’ll come. Shut your fucking mouth or you don’t get any cake.”
He laughs, really laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling up around the edges in an endearing way. You roll your eyes when he pushes the clean side of his takeout container forward, eagerly snapping his mouth shut in an exaggerated manner, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling.
Results
Something’s… different.
You feel lighter, more at ease. You navigate the conference with less pressure on your shoulders, waving to people that you recognize and not even feeling a pit of dread when the more eager ones stop you to talk. You even sit in on a random session just because it looked interesting. When was the last time you did that?
Minseok notices this too. “You seem really good,” he remarks on the walk back to the convention center after a pleasant lunch. “Conference treating you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you say. “I went to this really good session about empathy in the workplace for different work-family conflicts. It gave me a little idea for a potential study.”
Minseok nearly stops in his tracks, eyes wide. “Okay. Who are you?”
“Careful,” you joke. “Or I won’t ask you to advise.”
“Ah, there you are,” he replies, falling back into step beside you. “But seriously, I’m happy for you if this is what you want. Don’t force yourself to go too far.”
“I won’t.”
“Seriously.” He looks at you solemnly. “I worry about you sometimes, you know? I don’t want what happened in your fourth year to happen again.”
You wince. “It won’t, okay? I promise that I’m doing this because I want to.”
He sighs. “Alright, I trust you. Hey, is that…?”
You follow his gaze and your stomach turns. It’s Baekhyun, because of course it is, and he’s heading directly towards you.
Before last night, you would have handled this the way you always have: a stiff nod of the head, some backhanded comment about his latest achievement, and then off on your merry way. It’s gotten so common that Minseok knows not to scold you for it anymore. But now you don’t quite know where things stand.
You think that maybe you’d just pass by each other in awkward silence before Baekhyun decides how to handle the interaction for you. He stops in front of you and…
Smiles.
“Hey,” he says. “Hi, Dr. Kim. Having a good conference?”
“Hello, Baekhyun,” Minseok replies. If he’s surprised by the friendly atmosphere, he’s doing a really good job at hiding it. “Yes, I’m having a good time. I was surprised to see you’re not presenting this year.”
“Yeah, I decided to take a more supportive role for my students this time. I think this is my first conference ever not presenting. It feels a bit strange, to be honest.”
“You’re wearing glasses,” you blurt out.
The thin, wire frames sit prettily on the bridge of his nose, and you had never known of their existence in all those years of knowing him. He touches the side of the frames somewhat self-consciously and chuckles.
“I didn’t get a chance to put my night contacts in last night,” he says sheepishly. “I don’t really like wearing them out, but hey, what can you do? By the way, we haven’t decided a place for tonight yet but let me get your number so I can text you?”
“Uh, yeah sure.” You pass your phone to Baekhyun and let him text himself, ignoring the way that Minseok’s gaze is currently burning holes into the side of your head. You keep studying Baekhyun’s glasses. It’s weird how something like this seems to change not only his appearance, but the entire image that you had of him in your head. It’s not like you expected him to be static all this time, to be the same year after year, but… maybe you did, actually.
“I’ll try to let you know as soon as I can,” he says, handing your phone back, completely oblivious to the way you’ve been staring. “Bye, Dr. Kim.”
As soon as Baekhyun’s passed you, Minseok clears his throat. “Do I want to know?”
“There’s nothing to know,” you say.
“Right.”
The lounge is an upscale one, one where you have to squint at the menu to read it in the candlelight or risk the social awkwardness of pulling out your phone flashlight. The pages are full of wildly inventive cocktails with ingredient pairings only someone with way too much time on their hands would think to put together. It’s a strange group gathered here: you and Baekhyun, sworn academic enemies until about 24 hours ago; Chanyeol, someone you vaguely remember as being from Baekhyun’s graduate cohort; and Jongin, who nearly tripped over himself with excitement when you invited him along.
“I wish Baekhyun didn’t veto my suggestion of the club down the street,” Chanyeol frowns, taking a sip of his drink. “Places like these make me feel so stuffy.”
“Well, that’s the most popular club in the city, and I’m sorry for not wanting to see my students blackout drunk,” Baekhyun snorts. He’s changed out of his conference clothes, swapping his button down shirt for a black turtleneck that even you have to admit makes him look really good. The candlelight glints off the metal of his glasses, constantly drawing your attention to them. “I think that’s taking the advisor-advisee relationship a bit too far.”
“Should have just gone applied like me,” Chanyeol says. “Don’t have to worry about students, don’t have to teach classes, I make about twice as much as you…”
“It’s not all about the money,” Jongin pipes up. “What about, y’know… fulfillment?”
Chanyeol laughs and claps Jongin on the back good-naturedly. “Oh, to be young again.”
“Blech. No more job talk.” Baekhyun leans forward and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling wickedly. “So, Jongin,” he says, jerking his head towards you. “What’s it like working with her? Is she as much of a hard-ass on everyone as I think she is?”
You roll your eyes. “You don’t need to answer that, Jongin.”
“No she’s— you’re really great.” Jongin smiles. “It’s only my first year, and she really helped me a lot with the adjustment. She even helped me pick my first incoming advisee for the fall when I couldn’t decide.”
“Aw,” Baekhyun coos. Jongin isn’t fluent enough in Baekhyun-isms to know he’s being made fun of, so you shoot him a dirty look from across the table. “How cute.”
“And she sings really well too.”
Baekhyun’s eyebrows lift. “Oh? You sing around the office?”
Your ears burn bright red as Jongin continues, oblivious to your embarrassment. “No, we went to a karaoke bar one night after the conference submission deadline. Of course I sounded like a dying bird, but she really killed it.”
“Karaoke bar?” Chanyeol perks up. “We should go to one right now!”
“No,” you and Baekhyun say flatly in unison.
“Can I at least buy us a round of shots if you’re not going to be any fun?” Chanyeol whines.
“Sure, Yeol.” Something unreadable passes through Baekhyun’s expression, a slight flicker in the dark. “Make them doubles.”
“So… Jongin seems nice.”
The night air is cool, not holding any of the humidity present during the day. You and Baekhyun walk side by side through the back roads, away from the hustle and bustle of the main areas where other tourists and conference-goers roam. You can see your hotel just a block away. Your feet are killing you in your heels, but you resist the urge to take them off and walk the rest of the way barefoot. Somehow that seems too… intimate in front of Baekhyun.
“Hm? Yeah, he’s nice. A little skittish, but who isn’t during their first year?”
“You were?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “I always pictured that you entered that university and made everyone your bitch. Professionally, I mean.”
You laugh. “Well, no. I was a nervous wreck. I kept napping in my office because I would get so stressed during teaching that I would just crash after.”
Baekhyun nods. “And you hang out with him… casually?”
“Just the one time. Why?”
“I dunno. I guess I’m so used to picturing you one way that it’s weird when there’s evidence to the contrary.”
“What, like, you picture me as some kind of girlboss, takes no shit from anyone, eats manuscripts for breakfast?”
“Well… yeah, kinda.” Baekhyun holds the front door of the hotel open for you. “So hearing about you going to karaoke with Pretty Boy back there kinda messes with my head.”
You stop in your tracks and glare at him.
“What?” he asks, oblivious.
You scoff, taking off towards the elevators. Baekhyun stalks after you, calling your name. “What the fuck did I say this time?” he huffs.
“If you’re implying that there’s something unprofessional going on between Jongin and I then you’re way out of fucking line,” you say harshly.
“Hold on, I wasn’t accusing you of anything. It was just an observation.”
The elevator dings and the two of you get in. You all but punch the button for your floor. “Just because it’s an observation doesn’t make you any less of a dick,” you mutter.
Baekhyun throws his hands up. “I’m sorry for just stating the obvious.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “The obvious?”
He laughs dryly. “Don’t be stupid. He clearly wants you.”
“Oh wow. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.”
“The kid was practically drooling hanging onto your every word. So, my bad for thinking that something was going on there.”
The elevator doors open and you rush off to your room, but Baekhyun’s hot on your heels. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure if the two of you wanted to have a salacious affair it wouldn’t be a big deal, just don’t fuck on campus.”
You whirl around. “Jongin and I are just coworkers. And even if we weren’t, what’s the big deal? Is it that unfathomable to you that someone would find me attractive?”
“Well, of course it’s not.”
You freeze. Suddenly, your heartrate feels like it’s tripled, thudding in your ribcage. “What?”
“You heard me. Of course Jongin finds you attractive.”
You wait for the other shoe to drop, for the punch line to this cruel prank. But it never comes. He just stares at you earnestly, gaze brimming with something dangerous beneath the surface.
“If this is a joke, this is really mean, Baekhyun,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.
“This isn’t a joke.” He takes a step closer. “Do you need me to spell it out for you? Of course Jongin finds you attractive, because you are really fucking hot.” He slowly reaches out to cup his hand around your arm, drawing you even closer to him. “Especially when you’re pissed,” he whispers.
“You’re drunk,” you say incredulously.
“Stone cold sober. Do I seem drunk to you?”
He doesn’t, and that’s what scares you. He seems as sharp as he always is, the gears in his head whirring away. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were eyeing me earlier when I ran into you and Minseok.”
You gape at him. “You noticed that?”
“Of course I noticed. You were shameless.”
“Shut up,” you whisper, but your voice doesn’t hold any heat in it anymore.
He draws in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His hands travel down to your waist, hovering on the edge between polite and uncharted territory. “Just tell me how badly you want this. If you don’t, I’ll go to my room and we will never speak of this again. Promise.”
You swallow. Your head is spinning, heartbeat stuttering. You feel like every breath you take is much too loud in the silent hallway. He lets out an exhale, his warm breath traveling across your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.
You don’t know why you say the next three words. All you know is that it’s true.
“I want this,” you whisper.
Baekhyun crashes his lips against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s a messy, frantic kiss, hungry and possessive. Your breath hitches in surprise as your brain tries to catch up with your body, your arms wrapping around his neck. You kiss him back with equal fervor, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.
His mouth travels lower, down your jawline, sucking on the delicate skin behind your ear. “Baekhyun,” you murmur. “Inside.” You scramble around blindly for your keycard in your pocket and tap it against the door, unable to untangle yourself from him for even a second.
The moment you’re inside he’s pulling at your top, clumsily tearing it off your body as he walks you backwards towards the bed, the backs of your knees hitting the mattress. You fall backwards onto the sheets, chest heaving as you look up at him. “God,” he says raggedly, staring at your body with ravenous desire. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Hurry up and fuck me,” you pant.
“So mouthy,” he huffs. He slips his ring and middle fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue. “Get them wet for me.”
You swirl your tongue around the digits, hollowing your cheeks as if they were his cock. He stares at you, jaw going slack. With his other hand, he fumbles with your pants and underwear, pulling them down past your thighs just enough for him to slip his hand through. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, spit trailing across your chin, before he slips them inside your cunt.
You exhale breathily as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, leaning down to leave kisses all over your neck and chest. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him close to you as the pleasure builds, the slick squelching sounds of your wetness growing louder and louder. Still, even as electricity starts to thrum in your blood, you refuse to give in entirely to the feeling, your lips pressed shut in a thin, firm line. Call it pride, call it ego, but you refuse to let Byun Baekhyun of all fucking people earn your moans and praise so easily.
“You’re holding back,” he calls you out. He switches the angle of his hand, grinding your clit with the heel of his palm with every thrust. “What do I have to do to hear you, hm? You want my mouth?”
“Just do better, maybe,” you bite back, raising an eyebrow.
In a flash he’s off of you, tugging your clothes completely off of your body and discarding them somewhere on the floor. You don’t even get the chance to be self-conscious about being fully bare in front of him. He simply bends you in half, your thighs to your chest, and buries his tongue into your pussy without preamble.
“Holy fuck!” you cry out, hooking your hands around the back of your knees to hold yourself open for him. It’s sudden, your body jerking with the shock, eyes squeezing shut.
“There she is,” Baekhyun murmurs, clearly pleased with himself. His fingers resume their position deep inside of you, parting his fingers slightly to make room for his tongue between them.
“Don’t fucking stop,” you gasp, chest heaving with exertion. The onslaught of sensation is so intense, more intense than anything you’ve ever felt before. He’s messy, spreading your wetness all over your inner thighs, but skilled. He alternates between sticking his tongue inside of you, to giving hard licks against your clit, to sucking on the sensitive nub. You look down at him to find that he’s just as wrecked as you feel, eyes half-lidded, nose and lips dripping wet, glasses askew. You bury your fingers in his hair, tugging harshly at a particular devastating suck.
He groans, eyes rolling back briefly before he changes the angles of his fingers again. This time, he hits your sweet spot dead on, your back arching off the bed.
“Fuck, right there, right there,” you whimper. You struggle to hold your legs open as he hits it again, and again, each time increasing the overwhelming tidal wave building inside of you. “I’m gonna cum,” you manage to choke out before your orgasm overtakes you, rolling through you in waves of white-hot fire. You drown in it, sparks behind your eyelids as it sears through your blood, body trembling like a livewire under his touch.
Baekhyun stands and strips himself quickly, stepping out of his clothes before climbing back onto the bed. He urges you to roll onto your stomach, propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn your head back to look at him as he settles over your thighs. “Keep them on,” you say hurriedly when he lifts his hand to take his glasses off.
He smirks. “Oh? Why’s that?”
“You’re such an egomaniac, oh my God.”
SMACK. You jolt as his hand strikes the skin of your ass, a surprised moan ripping from your throat. “Don’t think I won’t walk out of here,” Baekhyun warns, soothing the reddening skin with his hand.
“Oh, please,” you deadpan, even as your skin tingles. “You need this just as badly as I do.”
“Maybe,” he replies. He spreads you apart and teases your hole with the head of his cock. “But judging by how fuckin’ wet you are, I’d guess that you need this pretty fucking bad. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
You don’t get to reply before he’s pushing all the way in, sheathing himself fully inside you. You both gasp in tandem, your head dropping forward onto the sheets as he pulls back out all the way, torturously slow.
“Tell me how badly you want this,” he says, thrusting the tip of his cock in shallowly.
“Seriously?” you whine.
He drapes himself all the way over you, his chest pressing against your back. He reaches around with one arm and holds you in a headlock, your neck stabilized between his forearm and bicep. His breath is hot against your ear, voice pitched low and gravelly.
“I said…” he murmurs, pushing the blunt head of his cock back inside of you inch by inch. “Tell me how fucking badly you want me to ruin you.”
Your head is reeling, so dizzy with want that you can’t even care anymore about keeping up this facade. You try to arch into him but he presses down on your hip firmly with his free hand. “I need it so bad,” you breathe. “Please.”
He kisses your temple and chuckles lowly. “Good girl.” He winds back and buries himself inside you, slamming his hips against yours. He lets go of your throat and pins your wrists behind your back, holding them down firmly.
You bite the covers beneath you in an effort to not be too loud, but you know deep down it’s all in vain. “Fuck, Baekhyun,” you moan, voice muffled. “More.”
“More?” he laughs breathily, upping the pace of his hips. “So greedy.”
It doesn’t take much longer for you to feel the crest of your orgasm beginning to form. You squirm, hips wriggling underneath his weight to no avail. He has you firmly underneath him, and the thought just turns you on that much more.
“I’m getting close,” you whimper.
You feel his hand in your hair as he presses your face into the mattress, slightly cutting off your air flow as he pounds into you. Your head grows fuzzy, voice pitching higher and higher until all that comes out are choked, pathetic whimpers. “Baek—” you mewl. The searing feeling low in your gut is hot enough to burn. “Close— please.”
He suddenly jerks your head up, pulling your body taut. You gulp in air greedily, the sudden shift in the angle bringing about your second orgasm with an unprecedented ferocity. You shake in his grasp, mouth falling open as your body succumbs to the sensation.
He flips you over onto your back and enters you once again, your thighs twitching through the aftershocks. Now that you can fully see his face, you can see just how wrecked he truly is. For all his taunting dirty talk, he seems just barely holding it together, a fucked-out, intense expression on his face. His hair damp with sweat, cheeks and ears flushed pink, glasses hanging low on his nose. It sends a thrill through you, seeing him like this, a sick sort of satisfaction blooming within you that comes from the knowledge that he’s just as desperate as you are.
“Fuck, look at that,” he rasps, looking down at where your bodies are connected. You’re soaked, fluid slickening both of your inner thighs, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock. It’s so dirty but you can’t look away, can’t stop watching his cock slide in and out of you, the fluid roll of his hips, the tensing in his thigh muscles with each movement.
“Feels so good,” you whimper, drawing him close to connect your lips with his. “You’re fucking me so— mm, so deep.”
He shudders, hips stuttering. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut.
“You like that?” You rake your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands at the nape of his neck. “You like it when I tell you you’re doing a good job?”
“Y-Yeah. I like it, shit.”
Your nails drag lightly down the sides of his neck, over his collarbone and down the expanse of his chest. “Good boy,” you coo, emboldened by his sudden gasp at the pet name. Your nail passes gently over his nipple, catching slightly over the raised bud.
“O-Oh, fuck,” he keens suddenly, tucking his head against his chest. His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the sensations, drunk on you. “I’m not gonna last long if you do that again.”
You hook your legs around his waist, locking him against you. He sputters, and you take the opportunity to slip your thumb into his mouth, cupping the side of his face with your hand. He sucks on it obediently, eyes wide and dark with wanton desperation. “Admit that you were jealous and then you can cum.”
“Jealous of what?” he huffs.
“You were jealous of Jongin earlier.” Your other hand reaches up to tug at his hair, making him whimper. “Weren’t you?”
“Yes— fuck I was.” He snaps his hips harder at the memory. “You happy?”
You smile, satisfied. With your other hand, you drag your nails back down his chest, making sure to pass over his nipple. “I want you to fill me up,” you murmur. “Cum in me, make a fucking mess.” He cums with a heated growl, pushing his hips flush against yours, cock throbbing inside of you as he empties himself inside of your cunt. He gasps for breath, leaning into your touch, nudging his face against the side of your hand.
“Good boy,” you say, trying to steady your own voice.
Baekhyun’s eyes suddenly open with a renewed intensity, a wicked grin forming on his face as he pushes back in. “Not fucking done,” he rasps, bending down to press your foreheads together. “Need to feel you cum one more time.”
It’s slower, softer, but no less intense, the way he winces with sensitivity, elbows shaking as he holds himself up. It’s a disaster between your thighs, his cum seeping out, dirtying the sheets below, but you’re simply too needy to care. Every thrust sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you don’t know whether to try and push away from it or surrender yourself to it entirely.
Baekhyun leans back, holding your hips steady with both hands as he rocks into you, head tipping back as he loses himself in the feeling. He looks like sin itself, red trails that your nails traced blooming across his chest, skin flushed and damp, lips wet and kiss-swollen. A steady stream of noise falls from his lips, barely audible over the slick noises of sex.
“I’m close again,” you choke out, one hand gripping the sheets below you and one gripping his forearm. He presses his thumb against your clit and then you’re gone, shaking all the way through it, whimpering his name one single, broken time.
He collapses on top of you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. He kisses you tiredly, clumsily, borderline missing your lips entirely until you align your face accordingly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. It’s different from the way he said it before. Where back then, it could have been a one-off statement said in the throes of heat, here it feels reverent. Here it feels true.
It makes you more embarrassed than anything else that just transpired. You don’t respond, don’t trust yourself to. You just hold him close to your chest in silence until darkness clings to the back of your eyelids, dragging you deep into a restful sleep.
Discussion
You wake up to the feeling of an arm around your bare waist and a body against your back. It’s comfortable, warm sunlight streaming through the windows. You sleepily watch the shadows cast by the blind slats dance across the wall, your gaze drifting down to the nightstand, then to the hotel clock.
8:32
Fuck.
You immediately spring out of bed, haphazardly pulling your outfit of the day out of your suitcase, clumsily stuffing your legs inside your slacks. “Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter under your breath.
“What the fuck?” Baekhyun mumbles. “What’re you doing?” You look back to see him sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. His hair is a disaster, sticking up every which way, but you don’t even have the time to take in this new image of him.
“Stella has her first session at nine. I told her I would meet up with her a bit early to give her a pep talk. Fuck, I have to go.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He’s more alert now, your adrenaline contagious. “Please tell me you’re not leaving today.”
“No, my flight’s tomorrow afternoon.” You examine your appearance and try to figure out a way to look presentable and less I just got fucked in about five minutes or less. “Baekhyun, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I literally don’t have time to deal with this right now.”
“Will you be able to deal with it tonight?” His expression is timid, maybe even hopeful. It’s certainly the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.
“Maybe? Probably? I’m sorry, I can’t think right now.” You stick your toothbrush in your mouth, trying to enunciate as best as you can around it. “Again, I’m not trying to be a dick, but…” You look pointedly at the door.
“Right. Yeah, I hope she has a good session.” He quickly gets dressed in last night’s clothing and puts on his glasses, heading towards the door.
“Last night was—”
“Baekhyun.”
“Sorry, sorry.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward as he pauses to look back at you. “You look pretty.”
“You have twenty seconds to get out of here before I literally wring your neck with my bare hands.”
He yelps, finally pulling the door open and exiting your room hurriedly. He doesn’t see your smile when you turn back to the mirror, and how it doesn’t fall off your face for several minutes afterwards.
You bumble through the doors with less than four minutes to spare. Up at the podium, Stella catches your eye immediately, waving her hand in a half-greeting, half-cry for help. You collect yourself and walk to the front of the room. “Sorry I’m late,” you say. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m about to throw up and faint at the same time,” she says through a perfectly polished smile. It’s actually pretty impressive, if not a little scary. “They changed the order last minute and I’m first. I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can. You’re incredible and you’re gonna kill it. We’ve gone through it a billion times and you just get better each time. You know this paper like the back of your hand.”
Stella takes a deep breath in. “I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You won’t,” you say. “And if you do, no one will remember it next time, okay?” You catch the sideways glance from the moderator and nod in acknowledgement. “Alright, you’re up.”
“Kevin has a seat for you in the front row next to Dr. Kim,” she says. “Thanks for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You turn and take your seat between Kevin and Minseok, who both look equal parts concerned and relieved to see you. “How was she this morning?”
“Freaking the hell out,” Kevin replies. “She’ll be fine, though.”
“Cutting it a little close,” Minseok whispers in your ear.
“Sorry. Had a crazy night last night.”
Minseok grimaces. “Okay, stop. I don’t want to hear anymore.”
The session begins and Stella crushes it. You never had any doubts that she would. Watching her up there is like looking into a mirror, watching your younger self, all her dreams and ambitions and anxieties on full display. She is far from the worst speaker on the panel, delivering her presentation with an ease beyond her years. She even gets a few questions directed towards her at the end, and she answers them with the kind of confidence that you could only dream of at that age.
Stella meets the three of you outside in the hallway after the crowds have died down a little. She squeals in happiness, jumping up and down. “I did it!” she cheers.
“You did! And it was incredible,” you smile. “You handled all of the questions really well.”
“Especially that one asshole,” Kevin rolls his eyes. “I would have told him to fuck himself but your response was good too.”
“Thank you.” She sighs dramatically, her breathing rushing out in a big woosh. “I got super nervous when Dr. Byun walked in.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. “What?” You have to stop yourself from swiveling your head wildly to look around for him.
“Yeah, he walked in right when the session started and he stayed in the back row. Left as soon as we wrapped up too.”
You and Minseok share a glance. Baekhyun showing up to any of your panels was a sign of trouble in past years, but showing up to each other’s students' presentations was entirely unheard of. It was especially unlike him to enter and leave without saying a word.
“Well, you handled it like a professional,” you say. “You guys should celebrate tonight.”
“We are!” Stella chirps.
“I’ll tell you what bar so you can stay away,” Kevin deadpans. “See you next week.”
The two bicker as they walk away, and you and Minseok head in the opposite direction. “There’s something weird going on between you and Baekhyun, huh?” he asks.
You snort. “Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“In any case, I support it. You have this spark in your eye that you used to get as a student. I missed it.”
You smile softly to yourself. You always thought that your biggest motivation came from trying to one-up Baekhyun. That idea is starting to change, slowly but surely. “Thanks, Minseok.”
Can I come over?
The text stays delivered for almost an hour. You’re nearly fully packed by the time you get a response, the vibration against the nightstand almost going unheard.
Yeah
Sorry about the mess
You head next door and knock softly, only having to wait a second before Baekhyun opens it. His hair is wet, and he’s dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, glasses slightly askew on his face. “Sorry I missed your text, I just got out of the shower,” he says sheepishly.
“No problem. Can I come in?”
He swings the door open wider and you enter, eyes widening slightly at the clothes and various items scattered around the floor. Baekhyun notices your stare and winces.
“I would’ve cleaned up a little before you came but I didn’t want to leave you waiting any longer.”
“No, it’s fine, it’s just…” You laugh. “I thought you would have been really tidy. Like American Psycho clean.”
“God, I wish,” he says. “I’m kind of a disaster.”
“We just keep surprising each other this week, huh?”
“Yeah, speaking of…” His voice trails off. “Should we have the adult discussion now?”
The two of you settle next to each other on the bed, leaving a few inches of space between you that feel like miles. You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you settle them firmly in your lap.
“Do you have any regrets about last night?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “None at all. You?”
“Not really.”
Silence.
“Um…” Baekhyun laughs self-consciously. “Is that it?”
“I guess so.” You laugh too, a hysterical bubble that rises in your throat. “You’d think we’d never slept with anyone before.”
“I’ve never slept with a colleague,” he says, fake-scandalized.
“Aw, are we colleagues now, Byun?” you coo.
“What else would we be?”
Friends, is the first word that pops into your head. Lovers is the second.
“Thorns in each other's side?” you say instead.
Baekhyun rolls his eyes, his body language already considerably more relaxed. “I guess another thing I wanted to ask is if this was just a one-time thing.”
You shrug. “I guess so, right? We’re so busy during the year and we don’t even live on the same side of the country. And last night was good but I’m not getting on a plane for a booty call.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Baekhyun mumbles. His hand drifts across the empty space between you, slowly reaching out until his pinky is pressed against your thigh. “Can it… be a two-time thing?”
You scoff, but you’re the one who kisses him in the end.
It ends up being more than a two-time thing. He empties himself inside of you while you ride him hard, gripping his shoulders and grinding your hips down into him until his voice cracks around the edges. Later, you suck him off as a reward for getting all of his things off the floor and properly packed into his suitcase. And finally, he kneels before you in the shower, making you cum on his tongue, your moans echoing against the tile. You now lay side by side in the dark, clean and spent, although a fourth round was considered for a few minutes. Neither of you explicitly say anything about you spending the night, but the thought of returning to your own quiet room makes your stomach churn.
“Do you need to put in your night contacts?” you ask.
“I think I’ll leave them out again.” He smiles playfully. “I get the feeling that somebody really likes my glasses.”
“Oh, who might that be?”
He laughs, eyes crinkling, before falling back into comfortable silence. “Stella was really good on the panel today,” he says quietly, tracing the love bites on your neck with the pads of his fingers.
“She was, wasn’t she? She said she saw you come in and it scared her.”
He laughs. “I deserve that, probably. I realized after I left this morning that I’ve never seen your students present. You’ve taught them really well.” He purses his lips in thought. “She reminds me of you.”
“God,” you close your eyes. “Thanks. I hope she doesn’t end up like me.”
“Believe it or not, that was supposed to be a compliment. You know that.”
“How could I know that?” Your eyes fly open and you turn on your side towards him. “We’ve spent our entire professional lives coming at each other’s throats. You hate me.”
Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t hate you. Do you hate me?”
“Well…” Your voice falters. “I do. Or, did.” You wither under his gaze. “Oh, don’t give me that look. If you don’t hate me you sure have a weird way of showing it.”
“I thought that what we did was just banter,” he whines. “Friendly competition.”
“Do you have ‘friendly competition’ with anyone else?”
“No,” he replies, hurt visible on his face. “You’re the only one that I thought was smart enough to take it.”
“Then why make all those comments about me being antisocial?”
“Oh, that?” He sighs, rolling on his back to look at the ceiling. “I guess that did come from jealousy. I feel like… I feel like I’m performing all the time, y’know? It’s not enough to be smart to make it in academia. You have to play the game, know whose asses to kiss. In grad school I felt like I was a circus animal, and everyone was just lining up to see me dance for peanuts.” He looks at you. “You never cared about any of that, but you’re as successful as you are. So yeah, I got a little jealous.”
You stay silent for a bit, picking your words carefully. “I used to be like that. You know I almost dropped out?”
Baekhyun doesn’t have a big reaction. Doesn’t gasp or widen his eyes. He just says softly, “I didn’t know that.”
“I did everything. I kissed up to everyone I needed to kiss up to, I did so much service, I mentored like six undergraduate students. I would have little bouts of burnout but I just accepted it as part of the job. It didn’t matter that I was getting sick all the time, or that I had about one weekend every quarter off. I kept telling myself that it was going to be worth it. Conferences were the worst. I barely slept because I was planning what I was going to say to everyone I wanted to talk to. My days went from seven to two in the morning the next day, just because I was afraid of missing out.”
You shake your head as the feelings come back to you. “In my fourth year I hit a breaking point. I went through three rounds of R&R for a paper I had started in my first year, and then they rejected it. They said that the political context had changed so significantly that it wasn’t relevant anymore, and just like that… They killed my baby. If they had found reviewers faster, or if they had even done the reviews in less than six months at a time maybe it would be published. I could have accepted it if it just wasn’t good enough. But everything being out of my control… that was too much for me to handle.”
The memories are painful, but you keep going. “I just felt so hopeless. I had given this everything and it couldn’t even give me one thing in return. I stopped going to class, stopped going to meetings. I didn’t reply to any of Minseok’s emails. I just disappeared for like two months. To me, it felt like my entire world was ending. I grieved that paper. I grieved all the hours I put into it, all the things I had turned down to work on it. I went to Minseok’s office one day to tell him I was done, but before I even got the words out he told me to take the rest of the semester off. He told me that I had to remember what life was like outside of everything.”
Baekhyun nods. “That’s why you graduated a semester late. And you didn’t present anything that year because you missed the submission deadline.”
“Yeah. I was super embarrassed to graduate after you did, but honestly? That semester off might have saved my life. I became a person again. And now everything I do is to make sure that I still am a person outside of my work, and make sure my students are their own people as well. I don’t play the games, I don’t dance. And yeah, it’s made me lose out on some opportunities, but I’m still happy with where I am. It’s a fulfilling job and I’m proud of my work, but it’s not everything I am.”
Baekhyun’s quiet for several beats, processing the information that you’ve just given him. The gears in his head turn, and turn, and turn.
“I think… I think it might be everything that I am.”
He closes his eyes, and you see his lip trembling in the darkness. “Ever since I knew this was what I wanted to do, it’s all I’ve had time to think about. Everything is so… loud all the time. Up here.” He points at his temple. “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking in fifteen years. I can’t even enjoy the good parts sometimes, it’s always what’s next or how can I be better?”
Baekhyun sniffs. “I don’t really know how to be a person,” he whispers, voice delicate and sensitive. “This job gets me up in the morning but without it, I don’t think I’d ever wake up again.”
The vulnerability of his statement makes your heart twist in your chest. “Hey.” You reach a hand out and lay it on his chest. “Why don’t we practice being people tomorrow before we fly home, yeah? Let’s just walk around the city and explore. No work talk allowed.”
He doesn’t respond for a long while. “Baek?”
He inhales shakily, then intertwines his fingers with your own. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” He squeezes your hand. “I like it when you call me that.”
You hadn’t even noticed, the nickname slipping out as easily as Sunday morning. You squeeze his hand back, and you fall asleep just like this, holding onto each other in the darkness.
Conclusion
You leave early the next morning, as early as you and Baekhyun can bear to disentangle yourselves from each other. He’s clingy when he sleeps, wrapping himself around you, mumbling nonsense while lost in his dreams. You take a moment before heading back to your room to gather your belongings to look at him, all of him. The way his hair is a total bird’s nest, how the corners of his mouth droop down into an even poutier frown. He calls your name softly, half-asleep, his voice rough around the edges.
When you return, he’s fully awake, shuffling around the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. Bleary-eyed, he draws you in and kisses you on the forehead, almost as though he doesn’t realize that he’s done it. It’s too domestic, too endearing, and you busy yourself with adjusting the straps of your backpack until the heavy, flustered feeling goes away.
After you check out and store your luggage for the day, the two of you head out with no plan and no agenda. It’s a beautiful, sunny day, the kind with a gentle breeze that keeps you from feeling too hot. “I’m not used to just… wandering,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t even know where to go first.”
Your stomach rumbles. “How about we start with some food?”
You duck into a bakery that you happen to pass by and order some coffees and pastries to go. There’s a bit more walking before you find a nice bench by the river. You eat, watching the passerby go about their mornings. Most people leave the conference on the last day to avoid having to pay for another night at the overpriced hotels, so all that remains are the local joggers, the young parents pushing babies in strollers, elderly couples taking a morning walk.
“So, who are you outside of all of this?” Baekhyun asks. “You said that you make sure that you’re a person outside of work.”
“Well,” you say, wiping the corner of your mouth. “I read. Fiction, not journal articles. I run and hike sometimes when the weather allows. I keep a spreadsheet of all the coffee shops in my city and I’m trying to complete it by the time I’m up for tenure.”
“A spreadsheet?” He wrinkles his nose. “I bet it’s color coded and all that shit.”
“Well, of course it is. How else are you supposed to sort them?”
Baekhyun snorts. “See, you’ve surprised me a lot this week but some things are pretty predictable.”
You toss your crumpled up parchment paper at him and he yelps. “What were you like before grad school?” you ask.
Baekhyun wipes the crumbs off his hands. “I was in a band, actually.”
“No kidding.”
“Yep,” he says, popping his lips on the p. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was a good singer. I also played a lot of video games. I haven’t done anything like that in a while.”
“What about socially? Do you at least do things with other people?”
“Well, yeah, they’re just all in the field. Y’know, I have Chanyeol, some others. I’m not like… completely lonely and hopeless, you know.”
You hold your hands up in defense. “I’m just making sure! What about meeting new people? Do you go on dates?”
“I mean…” He waves his hand noncommittally. “I hook up sometimes but I don’t really do dates. Didn’t have a lot of luck on the apps and just decided it was for the best.”
“Really?” you say a bit too loudly.
“...What?”
“I just… find that hard to believe, that’s all.”
“Why?” He grins cheekily. “Tell me why you think that.”
“No.”
“Aw, come on. Is it my good looks? My charm? My irresistible intelligence?”
You stand up abruptly. “Let’s keep walking.”
“Y’know, I think you’re really starting to like me,” he says, following close behind.
You walk aimlessly for a long time. You somehow end up in a small square of sorts, a sprawling park with an old church in the background. Baekhyun spends a while taking some photos of the scenery, then a couple of you posing in front of things. You sneak some candids of him in turn while he explores. The more time that passes, the more he starts to seem less and less like the Baekhyun you thought you knew, morphing into something more true and real right in front of your eyes.
“We probably have time for one more big thing,” you say, checking your watch.
“Hm…” Baekhyun scans the surrounding area, lips pursed as he thinks. “Oh! What about that?”
Your eyes follow where he’s pointing to see a large aquarium. You nod. “That looks cool, let’s do it.”
It turns out to be a combination of an insectarium and an aquarium.
It also turns out that Baekhyun is terrified of insects.
“I literally cannot get any closer,” he says, holding his arms to his chest in defense. He stands several steps away from the exhibit, mouth drawn in a frown.
You’re just inches away from the glass, looking at the giant spiders crawling around in the tank. “But this one’s so cool! I think he’s waving at me.”
Baekhyun fake gags. “He wants to eat you.”
“Look, I think he’s waving at you too.”
A shudder passes through his body. “Please, can we move on?”
You hurry through the rest of the insect exhibit, only stopping to look at the bugs that genuinely interest you. Baekhyun’s nice enough to keep the commentary to a minimum, although he makes no progress in getting even closer to the glass. When you transition into the aquarium section of the building, he breathes out an audible sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” he gasps. “I thought I was gonna faint.”
The aquarium is quieter. Peaceful. You float through each of the exhibits at a relaxed pace now that Baekhyun’s no longer squeamish. You pass through the themed halls, stopping at each tank to give each fish an equal amount of attention. He starts out taking pictures of all the ones that he finds pretty, or interesting, or scary, but soon his hand stops reaching into his pocket for his phone. He merely… looks.
He has a slight smile on his face as he walks, sharp eyes darting around faster than you can comprehend, drinking in everything in front of him greedily. He coos, and ahhs, and points out his favorites to you, but for the most part he just… exists.
For the first time since you’ve known him, the gears in his head have finally stopped.
The two of you pass through a large tunnel, surrounded by water on all sides. You take a minute to rest your aching feet at a bench, sitting side by side and staring up at the sharks and fish passing overhead.
“This was so great,” Baekhyun murmurs. You turn to look at him, the lights and shadows from the water casting his face in cool shades of shimmering blue. “I feel… like I finally got some peace.”
“I’m glad.” You jostle his shoulder with yours. “Promise me you’ll do stuff like this from time to time?”
He smiles, the corners of his pink lips curving upwards. It’s a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I will. It’s more fun with you, though.”
Your gaze drifts down towards his lips and you feel a pull towards him deep in your chest. Part of you wants nothing more than to kiss him right here. Another part of you hesitates. Just as Baekhyun doesn’t know who he is outside of work, what are the two of you together? What are you outside of the conference, the hotel room? What will you be as soon as you walk out of these doors? As soon as you board your plane?
For someone whose entire job is to help explain the unknown, the unknown feels fucking petrifying right now.
“I think we should go pick up our bags now,” Baekhyun whispers. His gaze is broken wide open, vulnerable and scared. He feels it too. You’re sure of it.
“Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse. Neither of you moves until a small child barrels through the tunnel, hollering at his parents, and just like that, the spell is broken.
Baekhyun laughs, your favorite, crinkly-eyed laugh of his. “Let’s head back,” he says at a normal volume.
You nod and stand, leaving this place behind together.
The ride to the airport is quiet. It’s funny. Even though quiet hasn’t been a stranger in the last twelve hours, this twenty minutes of silence feels heavy. But every time you look over at him, the words die in your throat. The further away you get from the city, you can’t help but worry that this was a one-time thing. You won’t see him until next year. Would things stay like this? Do you even want them to?
“I’m a bit late so we need to hurry through security,” you say when you get dropped off. You’re already taking off in the right direction, Baekhyun hurrying close behind you.
“Doesn’t your flight board in like… an hour?” he asks.
“Yes?”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Of course you’re a ‘two hours early at the airport’ person.”
“You never know what could happen!” you sputter. “There could be a backup at security.”
“You have to buy me a coffee if security takes less than ten minutes.”
“Fine,” you say. “But you have to buy me one if it’s more.”
Fifteen minutes later you’re sipping your coffee victoriously.
“This is stupid,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his own latte. He lightly kicks your ankle under the table, maybe by accident but probably not. “You’re still stuck waiting here for 45 minutes.”
“I like the airport,” you say simply.
“You like the airport?” he asks incredulously. He shakes his head, laughing into his cup. “You’re so weird.”
You giggle, then a thought occurs to you suddenly. “I never even asked you when your flight was.”
He shrugs, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It means don’t worry about it.”
Behind him, you see that there’s a screen with the list of all the upcoming flights for the day. You take off for it, leaving him behind.
“Hey wait—”
“Too slow!” you call back. You scan the list for his hometown airport. Then lower. Then lower.
“I wasn’t going to tell you,” he says glumly, catching up to you.
“Baekhyun, your flight isn’t for another eight hours.”
He smiles sheepishly. “I need to catch up on grading anyways.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked.”
“It’s not your fault. I never told you any different and I said I’d come with you from the start so why wouldn’t you assume that my flight would be soon?”
“But still. You could be doing literally anything else right now.”
He shrugs, suddenly turning pink. “I just thought… I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could. Y’know, since it’ll be a while before next time.”
You fall silent then, the weight of the situation settling onto your shoulders. Suddenly the next forty minutes seem incredibly important.
“I’ll make it up to you. We can do whatever you want until I have to board.”
Whatever he wants turns out to be heading to the nearest convenience store and raiding it for snacks. You lament at the egregious price of the peanuts and he sneaks it into his basket when you’re not looking, slipping it into your hands as you walk out.
You walk towards your gate together, swapping handfuls of each other’s snacks, talking about anything and everything as the minutes slip by. He’s invited to one of his students’ weddings in the fall, and you’re planning a weekend-long hike in the mountains. He thinks matcha is gross and you vehemently disagree.
It’s so unfair, you think, looking at his face, trying to commit all the details to memory. Just as soon as you've started to like him, really like him, you have to leave him.
The intercom buzzes to life and they announce that your boarding group has finally been called up. “This is me,” you say quietly.
Baekhyun nods, smiling softly, sadly. “Are we close enough for a hug now?” he asks.
You have half a mind to say something snarky, some wisecrack about all the salacious things he’s done to you in the last 48 hours but he can’t hug you in public, but all you can manage is a small nod. He wraps you in his arms, the fabric of his hoodie soft against your skin. You breathe in deeply, as if doing so will make the memory of his scent stick longer.
“Bye,” you whisper.
“It’s not goodbye. I’ll see you next year.”
You don’t know why, but you feel the sting of tears prickling behind your eyelids. He releases you halfway to look at you, and with a start, you realize that his eyes are similarly misty.
“Are you crying?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Fuck you,” he laughs. “You’re crying too.”
He lets go of you, and with a heavy heart, you turn towards the gate.
“Wait.”
A firm hand wraps around your wrist, holding you in place. You whirl around to meet his expression, a whirlwind of frenetic emotions on his face.
“Baekhyun, I need to catch my flight,” you whisper, your voice stuck in your throat.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But please just listen to me.” His eyes are frantic, desperately combing over your face. “This sounds crazy but I think I might be falling for you.”
“What? Baekhyun, I—”
“It might be way, way too soon to say this, but after this week I just feel like something is different between us.”
“So what are you saying? You’re in love with me?” you snort.
He huffs, frustrated. “I’m serious,” he says firmly. “I think there’s something special between us, you and I. I think maybe there always has been, and we’ve been too— I’ve been too egotistic to see it. But you’re miles ahead of the smartest person here, and you’re funny, and you’re magnetic, and you’re so beautiful, God, you’re so beautiful.”
“We live on opposite sides of the country, Baekhyun,” you say, the logical part of your brain fighting for attention, ringing every alarm bell you have. “This would never work.”
He licks his lips. “I’ve been wanting to leave my institution for a while and I’ve been interviewing. I got an offer at a university near yours. It’s an associate professor position.”
“What?”
“I haven’t told anyone. I almost passed on it because I thought that being close to you would be difficult. But fuck… the thought of going home right now and not seeing you for another year is just too much to fucking bear.”
Your head is spinning, reeling from the sudden declaration. You don’t know what to think. On the one hand, this week hasn’t been anything short of life changing. You think back to the aquarium, of the patterns of light as they dance along his face, and how the only thing you wanted in that moment was to kiss him right there. You think of the night you spent together, how you don’t think you’ve ever felt so connected to anyone before. You think of how relieved you felt to spend your birthday with someone else for a change.
But on the other hand, the decade of hurt is almost too much to bear.
“We only just started being able to stand each other this week,” you say. “I don’t— I don’t know you, Baekhyun.”
“You do know me.” He puts his hands on both sides of your face, looking deeply into your eyes. “You know the worst parts of me. I’m a workaholic, I’m too impulsive, I have a massive ego. You’ve seen me be jealous and narcissistic and ambitious to a fault. But I hope this week you got to see the other sides of me too. The sides that I want to share more of with you.”
The way he remembers your dietary preferences years after you’ve mentioned them. The way his hair is a mess in the mornings. The way his eyes crinkle around the edges when he laughs, really laughs. The mole on the side of his lip, on his thumb, in the shell of his ear.
You’ve spent almost a decade trying to be one step ahead of Baekhyun that you never even considered what it would be like to walk alongside him.
“This is a lot to take in,” you say.
“Okay, yeah.” He nods. “I’m not asking you to make any big decisions now. But just… consider it? I can visit you when the semester’s over and we can spend some time together without any of this bullshit. Just us. We’ll see how we are together when there’s no work involved.”
You take in a breath. “Okay. We can do a trial run.”
Baekhyun beams, a beautiful smile reaching from cheek to cheek. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But don’t think that this means I’m gonna stop being competitive with you.”
“God, I hope not.”
He sweeps you into a kiss, one hand cupping your chin and the other resting on your back. In that moment, you forget about it all: the conference, the competition, your feelings and how they’ve changed so quickly. All that matters is the softness of his touch, of his lips against yours.
“I have to board now,” you whisper against his lips.
“I know,” he says. He kisses you again.
“Baek.”
“Say my name like that again,” he murmurs.
“You’re so insufferable.” You pull away from him and shrug your backpack over your shoulders, trying to feign annoyance, even though the crimson dust on your cheeks give you away.
Baekhyun smiles softly at you, taking in one last look at your image before you leave. His eyes go soft, tender in the ways that you’re only now just getting used to. You hope that there will be many more times you see that expression.
“You like it,” he says cheekily.
You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Everything’s already been said.
You turn toward your gate and jog to make it before they close boarding. You only look back once. He’s still there, watching you go, lifting a hand to wave goodbye.
You wave back.
He smiles.
You smile.
Bye, he mouths, winking.
Bye, you mouth back.
You turn your back to him and board the plane, an indescribable light feeling in your chest. It feels good. It feels right.
References
This day can’t get any worse.
It’s the third time you’ve circled around the airport. You have a massive headache starting behind your temples, and if you get honked at one more time it might just be your fucking breaking point. You park firmly into a waiting space and put your hazards on, letting your head sink into your hands.
You’re only there for thirty seconds when you hear a knock on your driver’s side window. You groan into your palm before rolling your window down a fraction.
“Ma’am, if your passenger isn’t here you need to circle around,” the airport employee says.
“Please,” you beg. “I swear he’s coming, just please let me wait for one more minute—”
“I’m here!” Baekhyun’s voice cuts above all the noise. Your back door is yanked open, carry on suitcase and backpack haphazardly thrown into the seats. “I’m here,” he says again. The employee nods and moves along.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Baekhyun pants, climbing into your passenger seat. His glasses are hanging on by a thread, his hair disheveled and messy. It’s gotten longer even though it’s only been a couple of months, curling around the nape of his neck. “They closed down like half the terminal so I had to take these insane detours and everything was just so chaotic—”
“It’s okay,” you cut in. You’re smiling, grinning like crazy. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says breathlessly, a smile of his own spreading across his face. “I made it.”
You don’t let him get another word in. You reach across and take his face in your hands, kissing him deeply. His lips are so soft and he smells so good and he’s finally here. He smiles against your mouth, giggling like a lovesick teenager.
“What happened to the trial run?” he asks.
“This is still a trial run,” you say in between kisses. “You have to really impress me this week, Byun. Then we’ll decide if you get tenure or not.”
Someone behind you honks, but you pay them no mind. All that matters is what’s in front of you, the man in your arms, and the endless, countless days ahead.
Appendix (aka where mai overexplains a bunch of things for anyone interested. the fic is over now, so feel free to stop reading, i'm just nerding out)
Revise and resubmit refers to the decision that journals make when reading submissions in which authors have a set amount of time to address some concerns, and then it goes back in for consideration. It's not a guaranteed publication if all the issues are addressed, it's more like a "maybe." It's very rare that submissions don't go through at least one round of r&r before acceptance
Baekhyun and reader are both meant to be about 4-5 years into their careers as assistant professors. Reader is about to be up for tenure, which means she will get a huge pay bump and job security basically for life. Sometimes you can move to another university and immediately secure tenure, but that's contingent on you doing well at your prior university (publishing a lot, getting good student evals, etc.) This is the position Baekhyun's in by the end of the fic.
h-index refers to a metric based on how often a person's publications are referenced. A higher h-index means that your work is referenced often, and is generally a marker for prestige and respect
Work-Home Resources Theory and Conservation of Resources theory are both valid theories. WHR was actually developed with COR in mind. Reader is wrong in her critique.
Mediation statistically explains why X -> Y. Full mediation means that the relationship between X -> Y is fully explained by M (X -> M -> Y), while partial mediation means that M explains some of the relationship, but there's something else also at work ex., social media use -> reduced self esteem -> depression vs. social media use -> reduced self-esteem + poor quality of sleep -> depression. Partial mediation is a valid finding. Baekhyun is wrong in his critique.
Originally the outdated concept Baekhyun references is named (LMX) but I took it out because this section was getting too nerdy even for me and I decided to keep it vague. The idea of LMX being outdated is very controversial. It's still being used constantly to this day.
Baekhyun having seven students at a time is basically unheard of (in my field). I know of a prof who has five students at a time and they are all pretty miserable or neglected. Baekhyun is superhuman.
I was sort of vauge about their specific field on purpose but at the risk of doxxing myself (as I wrote this from experience so their field is the same as mine) i'll just say that it's a social science (although i fear it's pretty obvious)
Nature is a very very prestigious interdisciplinary journal. To my knowledge it's hard for people in my field to publish in it, so this is a massive deal for Baekhyun.
Stella and Kevin are OCs but their namesakes are meant to be Stella from h2h and Kevin from the boyz
The structure of this fic was stolen from my favorite academia-esque au ever (baekhyun and kyungsoo: a scoping review) even though it doesn't really make sense in my case and is mostly for aesthetics
whew thanks for coming on this journey if you read this far. if you're new here i don't usually yap this much but this was very personal and fun for me to write. love ya for sticking around <3
thank you for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⟡ summary: you ain't even friends, just enemies with benefits.
⟡ content: highly +18 content, mdni, smut, plot with porn, office au, enemies to fb (but the thing is you're not buddies lmao), mention of alcohol, swearing, mention of drunk sex, oral sex (both receiving), slight sub and dom leaning (switchies!!), fingering, marathon sex, facesitting (pussydrunk!junmyeon), masturbation, slight dacryphilia, raw sex, dirty talking, edging, slight choking, creampie, cum eating, overstimulation, squirting | junmyeon x f!reader | wordcount: 11.7k words (10.9k certified enemies behavior + 0.8k bonus!!!)
⟡ a/note: omg, it's finally here !!!! pls read the content warning first bc this is probably the nastiest thing i've ever written... but yeah, i'm not sorry !!! i really hope this is worth the wait and all the hype i've build up around. alsooo, happy birthday to the love of my life, my junmyeonnie. mhwaaa <3
You were still drained from last night and whatever reckless truce that happened.
The mattress shifted as Junmyeon moved, his heavy arm finally lifting from your waist. He didn’t bother being gentle as he untucked the covers, leaving your naked body exposed to the morning chill. You let out a frustrated whine at his sheer lack of manners.
“You’re remarkably annoying this morning,” you muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled, as you tried to tuck yourself into the sheets. “It’s dark outside, c’mon!”
Junmyeon let out a low, mocking laugh. Of course, he did it on purpose. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice grating on your nerves. You heard the metallic slide of a zipper as he stepped into his jeans. “Sunrises are inspiring, y’know?”
“Get out!” Tired of him and his effortless energy, you bolted upright, grabbed the decorative pillow beside you, and hurled it with every bit of strength you had left. Junmyeon leaned to the left, letting it thud harmlessly against the doorframe.
“Better luck next time,” he threw back, his laugh raspy and entirely too triumphant. “See you later, loser!” He was already halfway out the door.
Frustrated, you tried to make yourself sleep again, but when you were about to fall asleep, the distinct shut of the main door echoed through your quiet apartment. He was finally gone, heading back to his own place, which happened to be right next door.
The rivalry between you and Junmyeon was built in your first week; the air in the office seemed to sharpen whenever you both occupied the same room. You didn’t just disagree on everything; you two were capable of sabotaging each other if that meant the end of the other’s ego.
If you hit your sales goals, he tripled his. If he delivered a flawless presentation, you spent the next three hours perfecting a rebuttal that made his data look like a rough draft. You were both relentless, stubborn, fueled by a mutual, unspoken agreement that there was only room for one of you at the top. The “Seller of the Month” wasn’t just a prize anymore; it was the ultimate proof of superiority, and you’d rather work yourself to the bone than let him win.
The office had grown used to that tension between you. They joked about your rivalry, and saw the way you rolled your eyes when he spoke, and the way his jaw tightened whenever you took the lead in a meeting. They called it a personality clash, seeing it as an actual show.
Then came that team dinner.
The atmosphere was loud and celebratory, but you and Junmyeon were locked in your own private war. Both drunk, at the end of the table, arguing over a lead he’d clearly stolen from you.
The tension followed you on the shared taxi all the way home, finally boiling over as the elevator doors slid shut. You were barking at him, your face inches from him, fueled by months of suppressed adrenaline, ready to tear him apart—your finger poking into the fabric of his chest.
Junmyeon was tense. He didn’t argue back, at least, not with words. He moved closer, one hand slamming into the metal wall, the other one sliding down to grip your waist with bruising force. His mouth crashed onto yours to silence you. It was a collision. Stunned, you tasted his rage, but didn’t stop him. You pulled him into your space with a violence that surprised you both, your nails clawing through his shirt, searching for skin to punish.
By the time the doors opened to his—and your—floor, the war transitioned into something deeper. You two stumbled into his apartment, mouths still locked in a battle for dominance, trying to rip each other's clothes off.
The drinks had blinded you, blurring the hatred into a raw heat. Junmyeon backed you onto the bed, his movements jagged and demanding. He didn’t have to ask; your eyes said everything. You watched him drop between your legs, his eyes dark with hunger as he stripped away the last of your defenses.
When his mouth finally made contact with your soft skin, it was electric. He clearly knew what he was doing, tracing the sensitive lines of your inner thighs before focusing entirely on your pussy with a relentless hunger. Junmyeon was eating you out like he had been starving for months, his fingers hooked into your hips to hold you still while he drank you in.
“Shit—Junmyeon!”
Your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan against your folds. The sounds of wetness and his ragged, hot breath were so erotic that your legs were already shaking. He pushed harder, swirling his tongue in rhythmic circles until you were sobbing his name again, and again.
“Fuck…” he groaned. “You taste so fucking good.”
Junmyeon was winning. He knew it. You knew it, too. And yes, he wanted to be the only thing you could feel, the only thing you remembered as long as your inner thighs clamped his face, and your inner walls clenched at anything, already trembling against his mouth, knowing he was making you have the best orgasm in a long time.
But you weren’t finished. As soon as he tasted the last drop and hovered over you, your mouth crashed against his with possessive strength. When he finally sank into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to force him to stop being gentle. Of course, he got your silent beg and fucked you like your body had been made specifically for him. Each trust was a claim, each movement a silent way to call you his.
You traded bites on the shoulders and neck. You scratched down his back, your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched up to meet him, like you were competing to see who would break first. Every time he hit that perfect, sweet spot, he’d let out a growl against the crook of your neck, and you’d respond by pulling him deeper, refusing to let him have the final word.
When the end finally came, it was a mutual destruction. Junmyeon collapsed over you, his skin slick with sweat and his breathing ragged, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You weren’t any better, your fingers trembling, debating whether to hold him or not. But... both of you refused to really move.
“T-this was a mistake, Kim,” you breathed, breaking the ice, your voice a shaky whisper.
Junmyeon shifted, his jaw tightening as he looked down at you, his eyes still dark and unhinged. “The worst one of my life.”
However, his hand was already sliding back down to your hip, his thumb tracing the jagged mark he’d left there. Of course, you did fuck again that night, and the next days after... and the next weeks, like hooking up and hating each other were part of a balance.
You walked into the office with your jaw set and your stomach growling, the lack of breakfast making your temper a live wire. The moment you rounded the corner, you saw him.
Junmyeon was leaning against the edge of your desk, looking infuriatingly composed in a charcoal three-piece suit that hugged his shoulders perfectly. The silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose were a direct insult to your exhaustion—he looked stupidly, effortlessly attractive for 9 AM, especially for a man who had spent the night losing his mind in your sheets.
“You’re a minute late,” he noted, checking his watch with a slow, deliberate movement. A small, mocking smirk played on his lips. “Having trouble getting out of bed this morning?”
“Move,” you snapped, dropping your purse onto your chair with a heavy thug, “if you don’t wanna die today.”
Junmyeon let out a soft, raspy laugh. “Rude.”
“Get off my desk,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. “Go hover over somewhere else and let me work.”
“Easy, easy. I was just making sure you hadn’t fainted from exhaustion,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for you to catch his scent. “You seemed quite drained.”
“In your dreams,” you hissed, your eyes flashing. “Now get out before I report you for being a pain in the ass.”
Junmyeon straightened up, adjusting his cuffs with a smug, triumphant look. “See you at the briefing. Try to keep up.”
He could be incredibly annoying for no reason, and the urge to punch his perfect features was clear now, but he escaped before you could do anything.
And just like that, the rest of the morning was a blur of spreadsheets and mounting irritation.
“Hey, Junmyeon,” Chanyeol said, pointing toward his own neck. “You okay? You’ve got a couple of marks right there.”
You froze. Your hand was hovering over the print button, almost crumpling the documents in your other hand, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Junmyeon didn’t even flinch. He reached up, casually adjusting his tie, his expression the picture of bored indifference. “Oh, those? Just a mosquito. A very aggressive one. I think it got into my apartment last night and wouldn’t let me sleep.”
“A mosquito?” Chanyeol asked, skeptical. “That looks more like—”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon interrupted, his voice flat and professional, though you caught the way his eyes darted toward you for a fraction of a second. “Anyway, about those quarterly projections…”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek. The mental image of Junmyeon growling into your ear while you sank your teeth into his neck was a vivid memory from last night. You kept your back to them, staring intently at the printer tray, trying to erase it from your mind.
Later that day, the only thing more hollow than your stomach was your patience. You marched into the break room, desperate for a caffeine fix to dampen the hunger pangs, only to find the source of your misery already there.
Junmyeon was standing by the counter, leaning over his mug with an air of smug tranquility. Just as he reached out to lift the steaming cup to his lips, you swiped it from under his hand with a fluid, practiced motion.
“Hey!” he protested, his hand clutching at empty air as he turned a sharp glare toward you. “That’s mine. Get your own.”
“Consider it a tax,” you snapped, taking a long, defiant sip while looking him dead in the eye. “It’s entirely your fault I haven’t eaten a single thing today.”
Junmyeon let out a low, raspy chuckle, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. The movement made the charcoal fabric of his suit jacket pull tight across his chest. “Are you really this worked up over a yogurt? It was a strawberry. You don’t even like strawberries that much.”
“It was my strawberry yogurt, you thief,” you hissed. “And you knew exactly what you were doing when you cleared it out of my fridge.”
“I was hungry,” he said simply, a playful glint in his eyes that made you want to kick him. “Besides, you’re much more interesting when you’re hangry.”
You reached past him, your hand diving into his open lunch bag on the counter. Before he could react, you snatched the last thick slice of crusty bread he’d tucked away. “Then I’m taking this.”
“Hey! That’s mine!”
You stood your ground, the stolen bread in one hand and his coffee in the other, feeling the familiar adrenaline that only he could provoke.
“That’s mine now,” you muttered, already backing toward the door.
“C’mere!” he retorted, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register. “I don’t wanna repeat it again.”
You stopped at the threshold, a slow, predatory smile spreading across your face. You let your gaze drift pointedly to his neck, where the collar of his expensive shirt was still struggling to do its job.
“Junmyeon,” your voice dripping with sweet, faux-concern. “Maybe you should spend your lunch break hiding those ‘mosquito bites’. That’s a lack of professionalism, y’know?”
His smug expression didn’t just fade—it fractured to the point you thought his glasses had broken. For a split second, the composed version of him vanished.
Junmyeon opened his mouth to fire back—likely to remind you exactly who had left those marks—but the words died in his throat. He watched you stand there, defiantly chewing on his sourdough and holding his coffee like a trophy, and for once, he had no arguments.
You saw his jaw work, his eyes dark with a mixture of sheer annoyance and a kind of heat. Junmyeon looked genuinely surprised that you’d had the nerve to weaponize his own lie against him.
“Just… get out,” he finally muttered. He only had the heavy, frustrated weight of a man who knew he’d just been played at his own game.
“My pleasure,” you hummed, a purr of pure satisfaction.
You sauntered out of the break room without looking back, but you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into the back of your neck. He wouldn’t follow you, and he certainly wouldn’t admit to anyone that you were the reason for his sudden silence. Junmyeon was too proud to let the office know that his rival had just walked off with his breakfast, his caffeine, and his dignity all in one go.
As you rounded the corner back to your desk, the coffee tasted better than anything you’d ever bought yourself. You knew this victory was temporary—he’d likely spend the rest of the afternoon plotting a way to make you pay for the sourdough—but for now, the silence coming from the break room was the sweetest sound in the building.
“It was a record-breaking month,” the manager’s voice boomed in the sudden silence. “But as always, one person pushed just a little bit harder.”
Friday afternoon arrived. The stress was a living thing, fueled by the fact that the “Seller of the Month” announcement was a minute aside. Neither of you mentioned what happened again, but the way he watched you from across the meeting room told you he hadn’t forgotten the humiliation in the break room.
At the center of the room, your manager held the cream-colored envelope—the voucher for the weekend getaway.
You stood on the left, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your expression a mask of cold, professional indifference. Across the carpet, Junmyeon stood like a statue. He looked impeccable in a navy suit, his glasses catching the overhead light, but you noticed the way his fingers twitched against his thigh.
You felt Junmyeon’s gaze cut toward you. It was a silent prepare to lose. You tilted your chin up, your eyes promising him a slow, public demise.
“By a margin of only two sales.” The silence was deafening. “Kim Junmyeon is the new winner."
The room erupted into applause. Junmyeon didn’t jump for joy; he smiled with confidence, stepping forward, and took the envelope. He shook the manager’s hand, thanked the team, and then turned his head just enough to catch your eye.
The look he gave you was the look of a man who had not only won the war but was now deciding exactly how to punish his prisoner.
“Congratulations, Junmyeon,” you said, your voice dripping with a fake, honeyed warmth that you knew he absolutely loathed. You stepped forward, extending a hand. “Nobody deserves a break from all that strenuous effort quite like you do.”
Junmyeon took your hand, squeezing. He leaned in as if to give you a professional, friendly pat on the shoulder, but his hand landed on the back of your neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“Better luck next time, sweetheart,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to hear. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to actually hit your targets for once.”
“Aw, so arrogant.” Your smile never wavered as you leaned into his space, your lips almost brushing his cheek in what looked like a congratulatory gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll be too busy taking over the accounts you’re neglecting.”
You moved first. Your coworkers swarmed in, effectively diffusing the lethal air between you and Junmyeon with their oblivious enthusiasm.
“Nice work, Junmyeon! That coast trip is gonna be worth it!” Chanyeol shouted, slapping him on the back with enough force to make him stumble a half-step forward.
Junmyeon’s hand dropped from the back of your neck instantly. “Thanks, man. It was a tight race,” he said, his voice smoothing out into that polished, professional baritone that always made you want to roll your eyes.
“And hey,” Minho said, turning to you with a sympathetic wince. “You’ll get him next month. You were so close. Seriously, just one more lead and he’d be the one sitting here looking miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” you lied, forcing a sharp, practiced smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m just already planning his downfall. Someone has to keep his ego from floating away.”
“Well said!” Hana got close to you, holding your arm with a cheerful vibe. “Crash him!”
“Yup, you will need luck for next month, Kim.” Minji appeared with Sora, who was laughing.
Junmyeon let out a short, dry chuckle, tucking the voucher into his breast pocket with a flourish that was meant only for you. “Careful. Overconfidence is usually what leads to second place. But I appreciate the congratulations, guys.”
The group laughed, the tension you had been building in the dark corners of the conversation dissipating into mundane office chatter. Slowly, the crowd began to thin, people drifting back to their cubicles to finish their final Friday tasks.
Junmyeon didn’t give you a second glance. He simply turned his back on you, curving his lips in a smug smile, leaning over his desk to check an email. He knew he had pissed you off successfully.
You sat back down at your desk, not just feeling defeated, but with the urge to kill him slowly. You could see the back of his head, the way his dark hair was perfectly styled, and the way his shoulders looked broad and immovable in that suit, acting as if the win was purely professional. You hated that.
You spent the next hour typing with a ferocity that threatened your keyboard, your jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every time you heard the crinkle of the envelope from his side of the desk, your blood spiked.
By 5:00 PM, the office was a ghost town. You were still there, staring at a spreadsheet you had already finished, waiting for something. You heard the rustle of fabric, the click of a briefcase, and then his footsteps.
Junmyeon walked past your desk without stopping.
“Bye, runner-up,” he said, his voice cool and detached as he headed for the elevators.
The anger was a hot, jagged stone in your chest as you watched the elevator numbers count down. You knew how he worked; Junmyeon didn’t just play the game, he manipulated the board. He hadn’t won because he was better; he’d won because he was devious.
You waited exactly five minutes—long enough to look like you were heading home, but short enough to catch him.
The basement parking lot was a concrete tomb, smelling of damp air. You spotted his car immediately. As you approached, the driver’s side window slid down.
“Coming?” His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that skipped down your spine. He looked infuriatingly smug behind the wheel.
Your purse hung lazily off your shoulder as you walked toward the passenger door. You didn’t smile. You gave him the look he knew best—the one that promised you weren’t there to congratulate him, but to ruin his victory. You yanked the door open and dropped into the leather seat, the scent of his cologne immediately filling your lungs.
“You’re late.” His voice dropped into that dark, flirtatious register that only came out when the office cameras were off.
“Shut up,” you snapped. You reached across the center console, your fingers hooking into the silk of his tie and yanking him toward you with enough force to make his neck snap forward.
You brought your face inches from his, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “You cheated. We both know it.”
Junmyeon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his hands flying to your waist to haul you closer. A slow, dark smirk spread across his face as he looked at your mouth. “Prove it,” he challenged, his eyes flashing with that familiar, unhinged hunger. “Planning on punishing me for it?”
Junmyeon was enjoying it—the aggression, the way you treated him like a criminal. You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the muscle jump and tighten beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. His breath hitched, turning rough and shallow as he leaned into your touch, his own hands traveling up your back to pull you flush against him.
When your lips finally crashed into his, it was a collision of teeth and tongue, fueled by the bitter adrenaline of the afternoon. It was angry and desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening as he prepared to take exactly what he wanted.
But the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, to claim the satisfaction of a second win for the day, you pulled back.
You broke the contact abruptly, leaving him breathless and leaning into empty air. You smoothed your hair back with a clinical, cold precision and leaned back into your seat, a sharp, triumphant glint in your eyes.
“Not tonight,” you whispered, your voice a lethal purr as you reached for the door handle.
Junmyeon was speechless, leaning toward you, his pupils blown wide, his hands still hovering near your waist as if he could physically pull the “yes” out of you. “What—where you going?” His fingers were grazing the fabric of your skirt.
You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, faux-sympathetic pout pull at your lips. You reached out, patting his cheek with a condescending softness that felt like a slap.
“Oh, Junmyeon,” you sighed, your voice dripping with mock pity as you watched the frustration boil behind his eyes. “You look so... desperate. It’s almost sad. But I’m afraid I’m not on the menu tonight.”
“What do you mean?” he hissed, his jaw tightening so hard you could hear the bone click.
“It means I have much better plans,” you said, checking your reflection in the front mirror, fixing your lipstick and hair. “The girls and I are heading out. Drinks, dancing, and absolutely zero mention of you.”
The mention of your friends—the same ones who had just been strengthening your resolve to kick his ass—made his expression shift from heat to pure, unadulterated annoyance.
“You’re really going to choose a night of cheap cocktails over me?” he challenged, his voice straining, trying to sound indifferent.
“In a heartbeat,” you whispered, leaning in one last time just to leave a kiss on his jaw, leaving a perfect red mark of lipstick there before yanking the door handle. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”
You stepped out, the sound of your heels clicking sharply against the concrete like a victory march. As you shut the door, you looked back through the window one last time. He was sitting there, eyes closed, his tie crooked, his pulse visible in his neck, gripping the wheel harder enough to notice his frustration bubbling up.
You just kept walking, laughing all the way to the elevator, leaving him exactly where you wanted him: wanting more and having nothing.
Three rounds in, the alcohol had softened the sharp edges of the week, and you, Sora, Minji, and Hana were hunched over a sticky table, howling with laughter and absurdity.
“You know,” Minji said, her eyes twinkling with that specific brand of drunken mischief, “I was looking at the two of you during the announcement today. Despite all the ‘I hope you trip into a volcano’ glares... you and Junmyeon would actually make a terrifyingly hot couple.”
You nearly choked on your drink, a spray of gin and tonic barely missing the table. “Minji, please. I’d rather date a cactus!”
“I don’t know…” Sora chimed in, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking at him. It’s not just rivalry. It’s like he wants to... eat you. Or ruin you. Or both.”
“Yeah, my career,” you corrected, though your heart did a traitorous little flip.
Hana, never one to let a fire die out, poured more gasoline. “Oh, he’s definitely got that energy. Y’know, the one who looks like a perfect gentleman in that suit but probably has a whole different personality in bed.”
“Stop! This is ridiculous!” you laughed, trying to wave them off, but your face felt suspiciously warm. “He’s a robot.”
“A very attractive robot,” Minji countered, wagging her eyebrows. “C’mon. You’ve been in close quarters with him for months. Can’t you tell me you haven’t noticed the aura? He’s got that ‘good in bed’ energy. Like, really good.”
You had to bite your tongue so hard it actually hurt.
“I wouldn’t know,” you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the internal chaos. “I’m too busy trying not to get a headache from his cologne.”
“Bet he’s a biter,” Sora added thoughtfully, tapping her chin.
“Nah, he likes being bitten,” Hana corrected. “You haven’t seen his neck?”
“I saw it too!” Minji laughed. “It’s always the ones who look the most composed who are the most unhinged behind closed doors, huh?” She patted your arms, noticing you were deadly silent, swallowing your words.
The irony was so thick you could taste it. You were sitting there, while your friends spent twenty minutes dissecting the exact sexual prowess of the man who had been hooking up with you for months.
“You guys are obsessed,” you said, letting out a genuine, breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t wanna talk about my nemesis here! C’mon, it’s girl night!”
“Fine, fine.” Hana laughed, raising her glass. “But mark my words. One of these days, that tension is going to snap, and I’ll be nearby when it happens.”
It already snapped, Hana, you thought, taking a long, triumphant sip of your drink.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Minji said, her eyes widening as she slammed her glass onto the table. “I just remembered. You two live in the same building!”
The table went silent for a heartbeat before erupting.
“Oh, you’ve been holding out on us!” Sora squealed, leaning so far across the table she was practically in your lap. “That means you see him in the wild. Does he wear those suits to get the mail?”
“It’s just a building!” You tried desperately to keep your voice from trembling. “I barely see him.”
“Liar!” Hana pointed a finger at you, her face flushed with gin-induced excitement. “Look at her—she’s got that look. You’ve seen something, haven’t you? What is it? His gym routine? He looks good in gray sweatpants and sweaty?”
“Hana, stop,” you laughed, though the mental image of Junmyeon in anything casual—or nothing at all—was currently playing on a loop in your brain.
“Bet his apartment is just as cold and clinical as his office,” Minji mused, her mind clearly heading into dirtier territory. “All glass and chrome. Very American Psycho. I bet he’s the type who watches himself in the mirror while he—”
“Minji!” you gasped, actually laughing. “You’re officially banned from talking for the rest of the night.”
“No, tell us!” Sora insisted, grabbing your arm. “Have you ever been in his place? Or has he been in yours? Oh my god… imagine the tension in that elevator. Just the two of you, floor after floor, staring at the numbers, knowing you hate each other but also knowing he’s... well, he’s him."
You thought about that very elevator—the way the doors had hissed shut, the way he’d slammed his hands against the wall, the way you’d yanked his tie until he stumbled.
Shit.
“No… definitely not,” you managed to say, your face burning.
“She’s blushing!” Hana screamed, attracting looks from the neighboring tables. “She’s totally thinking about him! C’mon! If you don’t tell us right now, I’m gonna call him myself and ask.”
“You wouldn’t dare…” Though a part of you knew Hana was drunk enough to try.
“Then give us something!” Sora pleaded. “Just one detail.”
You took a long, slow sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to soothe the heat in your cheeks. You thought about the bite mark on his neck, the way he’d growled your name into the mattress, and the look of pure, unhinged frustration on his face when he cu—
You shook your head, forcing a look of mild boredom. “I saw him running once.” You offered a small, shrug-like gesture as if the memory was barely worth the effort to recall. “Late at night. He had headphones on and looked just as miserable as he does when I’m beating his sales numbers. We didn’t even speak. That’s the extent of our ‘neighborly’ relationship.”
“Just once?” Sora asked, her voice dripping with disappointment. “No late-night elevator runs for snacks? No bumping into him while you’re both taking out the trash in your pajamas?”
“I’m pretty sure he purposely takes the service stairs just to avoid the risk of seeing my face and ruining his night,” you lied, the words tasting like gin.
“That sounds like him,” Hana muttered, swirling the ice in her glass. “The man is so dedicated to being your enemy that he’d probably move out if he thought you were getting too comfortable.”
“Exactly!” you said, taking a long, casual sip of your drink. “He’s just a guy who lives in the same building and makes my life a living hell from nine to five.”
You leaned back, letting their chatter wash over you as they finally shifted the topic to Minji’s dating app disasters. Inside, your heart was still thudding a mile a minute.
Admitting the truth—that you knew exactly what he looked like when he was out of breath, or that he’d been in your bed at 3:00 AM more times than you could count—would change everything. You weren’t ready to share the satisfaction of having Junmyeon exactly where you wanted him.
But as you laughed at Minji’s stories, your hand ghosted over your phone in your purse. You wondered if he was still sitting in that car, fuming, or if he was already back at the building, waiting for the sound of your heels in the hallway.
The walk from the taxi to the elevator ride felt lonely, boring with the lack of his presence. When the doors hissed open on your floor, instead of turning left toward your own door, you found yourself standing in front of his.
You were so close to knocking, close enough to imagine him on the other side—maybe sitting on that leather sofa with a glass of bourbon, still wearing that navy suit, and fuck.
With a sharp, internal snap, you pulled your hand back. Not tonight.
You turned on your heel and marched the few steps to your own door. When you tried to shove the key into the lock, your coordination betrayed you; the metal slipped, clattering clumsily to the floor.
“Shit.”
As you reached down to retrieve it, the floor seemed to tilt. You caught yourself against the wall, fingers splayed against the cold surface as the evening’s drinks finally caught up with you.
The elevator doors opened again. Junmyeon stepped out, winded from his run and radiating a heat that seemed to close the distance between you instantly. He was dressed in a black shirt and shorts, a light running jacket clinging to his frame in all the right places. His hair was damp, his chest heaved with every labored breath, and a single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple before disappearing into his collar. He didn’t even look up at you first; he was adjusting his glasses.
“Enjoying the view?”
His voice sent a treacherous shiver down your spine, snapping you out of a trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into. Junmyeon moved with an effortless grace that your own buzzed senses couldn’t match, unlocking his door in one fluid motion and leaving it ajar—a silent invitation.
The alcohol in your system felt like it had suddenly evaporated. You tightened your grip on your keys, the metal biting into your palm, before you crossed the threshold and shut the door behind you.
“I wasn’t looking at you.” But your eyes were fixed on the way his clothes matched his body proportions perfectly.
Junmyeon chuckled, tossing his watch and keys onto the table. He turned back to face you. “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, a dark, triumphant smirk finally spreading across his face. “Then why are you here?”
“I—just to clarify that. Yeah,” you stammered, the excuse sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “I should go.”
“Sure.” Junmyeon’s voice dropped to a low register. He didn’t move an inch back, but his scent was clouding your senses. “The door is right behind you.”
Your feet were stuck, and your gaze was locked on his lips, taking a step closer.
“That’s what I thought.”
As Junmyeon closed the final inch, your defenses evaporated. Your purse slid forgotten from your shoulder, and the keys you had been gripping so tightly clattered to the floor. You didn’t care. You reached for him, your composure snapping as you crashed your lips against his.
Junmyeon reacted instantly. He trapped you against the door, sliding down one of his hands, searingly hot, to find the hem of your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thigh with a proprietary force that made your knees buckle.
“Fuck—I hate you,” you gasped against his mouth.
“Not as much as I do,” Junmyeon murmured, tearing his mouth from yours to trail a path of heat down your jaw. His lips found the frantic pulse in your neck, devouring your skin, leaving hot marks. Your fingers tangled desperately into his hair, pulling him closer.
You shrugged out of your blazer, the fabric hitting the floor to join your keys and purse. Junmyeon slid his hand further up your skirt, then rubbed his fingers against your panties. The sudden, hot realization of your own wetness made every sensation feel amplified, a deep ache settling in your cunt that only he could soothe.
Junmyeon’s mouth remained anchored to your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while his free hand began to work the buttons of your blouse with a practiced, agonizing slowness. He exposed more skin, centimeter by centimeter, following the trail of the fabric with hungry, wet, searing kisses.
Your hips began to buck instinctively against his hand, a silent, desperate plea for him to touch you properly, to rub harder against your folds. You were losing the battle, your breath hitching in broken gasps. You could feel the wetness of his tongue against your bra, his hot breath cooling against the fabric, claiming you.
Junmyeon pulled away barely an inch, looking at you with hungry eyes, his hot fingers leaving you shivering and bereft. You watched, breathless and whimpering against the door, as he brought his hand up between your faces. His two fingers were slick. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his fingers into his mouth, watching you gasp again.
Junmyeon licked them clean with his tongue, swallowing as he tasted you. The sight of his lips wrapped around his own fingers while he stared you down felt like it was certainly an erotic vow.
“Fucking delicious.”
His voice sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. You couldn’t even find a retort. All you could do was stare at his mouth, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, waiting for him to finish what he’d started.
“Jun—”
The friction of the lace was gone, replaced by the searing heat of his bare skin against yours. Junmyeon slid two fingers downward, finding your aching folds and directly rubbing them again with a heavy, rhythmic pressure that made your breath catch in a sharp, broken gasp.
“What is it?” His voice was thick with a dark sort of pride, ghosting your lips. “So desperate, doll.”
Before you could snap back, he collided his lips against your mouth and drove his fingers inside your cunt. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your teeth sinking into his lower lip in a sharp, instinctive bite. Junmyeon’s mouth curved into a smirk against yours, savoring the sting, groaning. He knew he had you.
His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you with a ruthless precision that forced you to cling to his shoulders. You arched your back, your spine hitting the door as you bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the friction. He hummed in approval, a low vibration you felt deep in your chest, before his lips began a slow, torturous descent.
“Fuck! Don’t stop—ah.”
Junmyeon trailed wet, lingering kisses down your throat and over the swell of your chest, his breath hot through the thin fabric of your bra. When he finally caught your nipple between his teeth, biting down through the lace, the double hit of pleasure made your head toss back.
The wet, rhythmic sound of his fingers with vengeance, the friction even more intense. Junmyeon began scissoring his fingers deep inside you, catching your rhythm and then shattering it by going faster, harder, until your senses were completely blinded. You were a live wire in his hands, your gasps turning into frantic, wordless pleas as the coiling heat tightened once again, turning into a searing, unbearable pressure.
“Shit—yes.”
You were right there, your body trembling, your vision blurring as you prepared to shatter. And then, with the surgical precision of a man who knew exactly how to break you, Junmyeon stopped.
“Son of a bitch!” You let out a desperate, strangled sound—a mix of a sob and a moan—as your orgasm retreated just as it reached its peak.
Your legs were shaking so violently you had to lean your entire weight against the door just to stay upright, your inner muscles twitching and aching for more. You looked at him through a haze of frustration, your eyes stinging with the sheer need of it.
Junmyeon was looking at you, his chest rising and falling in a steady, maddeningly calm rhythm, lips curved, and that triumphant chuckle.
“C’mon, honey. You can resist a little tease.” His voice was smooth and terrifyingly steady. He was so close to your face, you could feel his warm breath. “Right?”
“You... bastard!” you managed to choke out, your voice a fractured wreck of its former self. You tried to reach for him, but your coordination was gone, your body heavy and oversensitive. “Just—finish it.”
“But that won’t be fun,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth.
Junmyeon just watched you—watched the way your breath hitched and the way your hands clawed at his shoulders—completely unfazed by the storm he had unleashed inside you. He was the one in total control, and he was savoring every second of your undoing.
“Please—Junmyeon, please.”
“Can make an exception.”
The agonizingly slow drag of his fingers returned, a deliberate, torturous rhythm that felt like he was mocking your desperation. Junmyeon was playing with you, teasing your sensitized flesh with a casual cruelty that left you utterly powerless. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought; your world had shrunk to the point where his hand met your body. You bucked your hips instinctively, trying to force a faster pace, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his forearm in a silent, white-knuckled plea for him to just keep going.
“So impatient,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against your jaw. He trailed his tongue along the sensitive line of your neck, his breath hitching.
Just as the frustration peaked, his fingers snapped back into a blurring, ruthless speed, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight up your spine, your head snapping back against the door. You whimpered, the sound broken and raw, but the fear of him stopping again was more intense than the pleasure itself.
“P-please,” you finally gasped out, the word shattering the last of your pride. Your eyes were shut tight, your body arching into his as the coiling tension in your core became an unbearable, white-hot knot. “Junmyeon, please... don’t stop. Not again. I can’t—I’ll do whatever you want, just—shit. Don’t stop.”
Junmyeon let out a low, triumphant growl, his teeth grazing your earlobe as his pace turned even more punishing. “Oh?”
He pushed you past the breaking point, his fingers relentless and cruel as he kept you balanced on that jagged, unbearable edge. He adjusted his rhythm just enough to keep the tension coiling tighter, turning the pleasure into a beautiful, agonizing form of torture.
“What is it?” His voice dropped. He stopped his fingers for a heartbeat, hovering just at the entrance of your cunt. “Wanna cum?”
The frustration finally broke you. Tears of pure, overstimulated desperation welled in your eyes, blurring the sight of his smug, hot face. You nodded frantically, your pride evaporated.
“Yes,” you choked out. “Yes, damn it. Yes!”
“Good girl.”
Junmyeon drove his fingers back inside with a brutal, blurring speed, his thumb finding that aching spot with a proprietary force. You whimpered into his shoulder as your orgasm finally crashed over you, a violent, bone-deep release that felt like an explosion.
Your inner walls clenched around his fingers in frantic, rhythmic waves, milking the friction as you bucked helplessly against him. Your legs gave out completely, leaving you hanging on his frame as your body was racked by tremor after tremor.
Junmyeon watched you with a look of dark, satisfied possession, savoring the way you were reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess in his arms.
Junmyeon carried you effortlessly, your arms locked around his neck, before he dropped you onto the middle of his bed. The moment your back hit the mattress, you reached for him, pulling him down into a raw kiss. Your hands roamed over him, desperate to find skin, and the friction was so intense he finally bucked under your touch.
He couldn’t resist you any longer as you finished the job with your blouse, tossing it aside. Junmyeon surged forward, his mouth hungry and desperate as he attacked your neck, his breath coming in jagged lunges. He made quick work of your bra, and when your skin was finally exposed to the cool air, he didn’t give you a second to breathe. He buried his face against your tits, his kisses desperate and wide-mouthed as he devoured you.
“Junmyeon... please,” you moaned, your voice a fractured wreck as you arched your body off the sheets. Your hips were already moving in a frantic, instinctive search for pressure. “I need you.”
Junmyeon pulled back for a single heartbeat, looking down at you, swollen lips and his eyes dark, hungry, letting you take his glasses off. Without a word, he yanked his shirt over his head, muscles tensing under the dim light, before he dropped between your legs.
“Yes—”
He stripped your panties and your skirt away with a ruthless efficiency, his mouth immediately finding the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Junmyeon trailed wet, searing kisses upward, marking every inch of you, his hands gripping your knees to keep you open for him.
“I know you need me, doll,” he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin. “C’mere.”
Junmyeon adjusted his position until he could settle himself firmly beneath you. He made you sit right on his face, the heat of his skin meeting the slick, aching center of your pussy. Your legs were already trembling violently, your senses so overstimulated that the mere proximity of him made your head spin.
You felt his hands slide up to your waist, anchoring you in place, before he delivered a giant, wet lick that traced you from bottom to top. The raw sensation of his tongue against your slit made you gasp into the empty room, your fingers dropping his glasses aside, clawing at the sheets as you buckled over him, completely at the mercy of his mouth.
You lost it immediately, your body jerking on top of him as your damp, swollen folds met the relentless heat of his mouth. He wasn’t being polite; he was loud and messy, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you and his moans filling the quiet of the bedroom and making your skin flush a deep, frantic red.
Junmyeon was devouring you with a desperation that told you he’d been starving as much as you did. Every slow, heavy stroke of his tongue against your slit sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to your brain. You were squirming, rocking your hips as you tried to find a rhythm, but he was too fast, too thorough.
“Ah—Junmyeon, fuck!” you choked out, your fingers finding his hair, practically pulling at the roots.
In a fit of pure, unadulterated lust, you tried to squeeze your inner thighs against his head, wanting to trap him there, to force him even deeper into your mess. Junmyeon let out a muffled, dark growl against your skin, his hands sliding up to your ass to grip you with a bruising force, holding you steady as he focused entirely on your clit.
Junmyeon began to suck at that tiny, overstimulated point of nerves, his tongue swirling around it with a rhythmic, drowning pressure. You were a complete wreck, your voice high and jagged as you cried out, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his mouth. He was making a total mess of you, the slick evidence of your desire coating his lips and chin, but he didn’t care. He just drank you in, his breathing ragged and loud between every hungry lap.
“Shit, shit, shit. Yes!”
You were completely undone, the friction of his tongue driving you into a fever state where the only thing that existed was the wet, rhythmic sound of him eating you out. You turned your head a second, your vision swimming, and saw that he had kicked his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself.
His hand was clamped around his cock, his fist moving in a fast, punishing blur as he jerked himself off. You could see the veins standing out on his forearm, the sheer force of his grip as he squeezed himself hard, his knuckles white.
“Fucking hell—you’re so addictive,” he groaned, making your core throb with a renewed, agonizing intensity.
You couldn’t help yourself, your voice a broken, breathless wreck as his mouth continued to claim you.
“Don’t... don’t you dare stop,” you hissed, your hands grabbing the headboard as you bucked your hips against his face. “Fucking eat me. Ah—just like that.”
You turned your head again. The sight of him working himself to the rhythm of his own tongue lapping at your slit was too much. You tried to squeeze your thighs against his face again, wanting to feel the vibration of his growls deep in your bones.
Junmyeon let out a jagged, guttural sound, his fist moving even faster as he buried his face deeper into your pussy—his tongue swirling around your clit with ruthless pressure.
“Fuck!”
The second climax hit you far more violently than before. Your swollen folds were almost too sensitive to bear, but the relentless pressure of his mouth wouldn’t let you escape. You felt your inner walls contract in frantic, agonizing spasms, the orgasm finally snapping through you. A raw, jagged cry teared from your throat as you shattered completely, your entire body vibrating against him, digging your nails into the headboard.
At that exact same moment, Junmyeon’s own control finally disintegrated. His fist worked in one last, punishing blur against his cock, and he let out a loud, choked-off shout—a sound of pure, unbridled release.
His body jolted violently against your thighs, his muscles locking tight. The sheer force of the climax left him physically drained, his grip on your waist finally loosening as he slumped forward.
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale against your skin, holding you as the aftershocks continued to roll through you. He lingered, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes to clean you. The sensation was almost too much for your overstimulated nerves.
“Fuck,” you gasped, though your hands were still buried in his hair, pulling him closer.
When Junmyeon finally shifted, he pulled you up, his muscles slick and straining as he guided you to sit firmly on his lap. You were face-to-face now, your skin flushed and damp, meeting the beautiful, honest mess that was left of his control. He leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving in heavy, jagged lunges. The tension that usually tightened his shoulders was gone, replaced by a raw, satisfied relief.
“You look far too proud of yourself,” you whispered, your voice a breathless wreck as you pushed a stray, damp lock of hair from his forehead.
“I think I’ve earned it,” he rasped, his eyes hooded and dark with a proprietary heat, smirking. “I didn’t know my name could sound that filthy in your mouth.”
“You arrogant bastard,” you breathed, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips.
“And yet, here you are,” he countered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin.
“Just because your tongue does better things than fight me back.” Testing the waters, you reached down, your finger tracing the hypersensitive tip of his length.
The contact made him hiss a jagged curse, his entire body jerking involuntarily. “Fuck—you vixen!” He winced, the pleasure-pain of the post-orgasm sensitivity hitting him hard, but he did tilt his hips into your touch.
“What? I’m just admiring the mess you made,” you teased, your finger circling his tip again, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the sheets. “You were louder tonight, Junmyeon. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Don’t start,” he warned, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I wasn’t the one begging tonight.”
“You’re the one who pushed me there,” you countered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear. “You wanted me desperate. Needy.”
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale, his head falling back against the wood. “Y-yeah. I wanted to ruin you.” He looked at your hand again, watching with a dark, mesmerized intensity as you continued to stroke him. Even though he was spent, even though he was raw, he let you touch, his breath hitching every time your skin grazed his.
“You’re addicted to this,” you whispered, looking up at him, curving your lips. “To me.”
“Completely,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a vulnerable, honest low.
You shifted your weight and wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his length. Junmyeon let out a sharp, fractured breath that sounded almost like a sob.
“Oh, Kim,” you whispered, leaning in until your lips grazed his ear, curving your lips. “Reduced to a shaking mess because I’m barely touching you?”
You started to jerk him off, your rhythm slow, designed to draw out every ounce of his sensitivity. Junmyeon hissed a string of jagged curses, his head snapping back against the headboard, his eyes squeezed shut as his body jolted.
“You like this, don’t you?” you purred. You leaned forward and sank your teeth into his lower lip, biting just hard enough to make him groan.
“Fuck…” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip your waist with a white-knuckled intensity. He tried to pull you closer, his hips bucking upward in a desperate search for more, but you held him back, keeping the pace agonizingly steady.
“Uh-uh.” Your hand tightened slightly as you moved up to his tip, watching his throat move as he swallowed hard. “You enjoyed watching me struggle, hmm? You liked making me wait and beg.”
You leaned back just enough to look at him—his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes desperate. Junmyeon looked completely undone.
“Now it’s your turn,” you purred, your thumb circling the sensitive tip of him until his breath hitched and stayed there. “I think I’m going to keep you right here for a while. I want to hear you beg.”
“You—you cruel woman,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering open, dark and hazed with a mix of pain and pure, unadulterated lust.
“Uh-uh. I’m just playing your game,” you countered. “Don’t complain when I use it all on you.”
You pulled your hand away with a sharp, clinical suddenness, mirroring the exact cruelty he’d shown you. Junmyeon’s hips bucked reflexively, chasing the heat that had just vanished, and he let out a strangled, desperate sound that was half-growl, half-sob.
“Don’t—” he rasped, his eyes snapping open, wide and hazed with a frantic kind of need. He reached for you, his fingers brushing your waist, but you pulled just out of reach, moving back on the bed.
“What?” Your voice was airy and teasing as you watched him tremble. “I thought maybe you liked the wait.”
“Shit—please,” he groaned, looking utterly wrecked, his chest heaving, his pride lying in tatters on the floor. “Don’t do this. Please… fuck, I’m begging you.”
“Are you?” You knelt between his legs, your shadow falling over his flushed skin. You reached out, your finger grazing the slick, pearly cum at his tip, and then you brought them to your lips, tasting him right in front of his eyes.
Junmyeon let out a hissed, jagged breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets.
“Who’s in charge, Junmyeon?” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.
“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Y-you are. Just... please, do it.”
Satisfied with the brokenness in his tone, you leaned down. You started by swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, catching every drop of his sensitivity. Junmyeon groaned, his hands flying to your hair, guiding you, his fingers trembling against your scalp.
Then, you took him into your mouth, swallowing him whole.
The low, guttural sound he made was pure animal instinct. His hips began to move lazily, a rhythmic, desperate thrust against your mouth as he fought to stay conscious. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat sent a violent jolt of heat straight to your own cunt; you were so wet you could feel your inner walls clenching around nothing, aching for a fullness that only he could provide.
“Fuck... yes! Right there.” His voice was a fractured wreck as his grip on your hair tightened, anchoring you to him. “Don’t… don’t you fucking stop. I’m gonna—shit.”
Junmyeon was completely at your mercy, his breathing turning into sharp, frantic hitches as your tongue worked over him, driving him toward a peak that he couldn’t escape. He was loud, messy, and entirely yours, his swearing turning into wordless pleas as he teetered on the very edge of his sanity, his chest heaving, his hip colliding uncoordinated with your face.
You reached down with your free hand, your fingers curling around him to squeeze his balls with a firm, proprietary grip, while your other hand jerked him with a fast, ruthless rhythm.
“Ah—yes, baby,” he choked out, his hands tangling desperately in your hair. “You’re fucking killing me. Shit—”
“Shh,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to give him a messy kiss. “You’re doing so good for me, Junmyeon. Such a good, obedient boy.”
“Don’t—” he groaned, a jagged, broken sound. “Please.” He shut his eyes, his hands trembling.
“What?” You smirked, grazing your lips on his, jerking him off. “You like it when I call you good boy?”
He barely nodded, probably ashamed that the lust was deeper. “Fuck, please... just finish me. Please?”
“I didn’t hear you.” Your fist squeezed harder. “You like it?”
“Yes! Fuck—I do!”
Satisfied, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him deep, swallowing his whole cock. Junmyeon groaned so loud that it made your own core pulse with a frantic, wet ache. You were a winner, and you both knew it—you could feel it in the way his muscles were locked tight, the way his swearing turned into a high, frantic whine.
“Yes, ah—yes!”
Junmyeon finally broke. With a loud, guttural groan, his body jolted violently. He came with a force that was staggering, hot sperm hitting the back of your throat as he pumped into your mouth. You coughed, trying to take every bit of him, even as it became too much to swallow, the excess dripping down your chin and onto your chest.
Junmyeon was completely overwhelmed, his body racking with aftershocks so intense his legs were still twitching against the sheets. He slumped back, his hands finally falling limp from your hair, his breathing coming in shallow, sobbing gasps.
You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a triumphant, predatory smile on your face. You were covered in him—your lips, your chin, your skin—and the sight of him so utterly destroyed and overstimulated made you feel more powerful than any boardroom victory ever could.
You leaned down and mashed your mouth against his, a slow, sloppy kiss that was pure mockery. You deliberately smeared the slick evidence of his orgasm across his lips, tasting yourself and him all at once. Neither of you gave a shit about being clean; you were both too far gone, completely feral and obsessed.
“Tastes good, hmm?” you whispered against his mouth, your lips wet and glistening. “But you look like a fucking mess, Kim.”
Junmyeon let out a dark, ragged chuckle that sounded more like a growl, his eyes snapping open with a dangerous, predatory spark. “You think you fucking broke me? You think you’re in control because you can make me beg?”
Before the words could even fully leave his mouth, he gripped your waist and flipped you onto your back with a sudden, bruising force. The weight of his sticky, warm body pinned you flat against the mattress. You immediately felt the scorching heat of him—thick, heavy, and hard again, pressed right against your slick cunt.
“I’m gonna make you eat every single one of those words,” he rasped, his voice dropping to a filthy, gravelly whisper.
Junmyeon didn’t ease into you. He slammed his hips forward, burying his entire length inside you in one deep, ruthless thrust that bottomed out completely. You let out a sharp, high-pitched whimper, your toes curling as your overstimulated walls, raw from the previous orgasms, clenched around him like a vice. It was so intense that you reacted purely on instinct, arching your spine and biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Fuck—” Junmyeon groaned, tasting the copper on his tongue and immediately driving into you harder, his pace turning fast and punishing. “Fucking bite me again, you little psycho. Shit—you’re so goddamn tight.”
“Shut up and just fuck me, Junmyeon!” Your hands flew to his back, your nails digging into his skin and dragging down until you left long, angry red tracks. “Don’t you dare slow down—I wanna feel every fucking inch of you.”
“You like it rough, huh? You like it when I don’t give you a choice,” he half-growled, half-chuckled, his breathing coming in heavy, jagged lunges as the headboard began to slam violently against the wall.
He reached down, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it high over his shoulder to open you up even more, angling his hips to hit that exact, agonizing spot inside you over and over again. He had you whimpering, incapable of saying a word but raw moans from your lips.
“Yes, doll. Look at how open you are for me. Shit—who owns this pathetic, aching pussy right now.”
With a low growl, Junmyeon slid his hand up from your waist, his palm wrapping around the front of your neck. He pressed down firmly, pinning you to the pillows. The sudden, heavy pressure on your throat sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight to your core. Your internal muscles reacted instantly, contracting violently and clenching around his thick cock.
“Fucking tight,” Junmyeon choked out, his jaw tight as your raw, hyper-sensitive walls squeezed him with an agonizingly perfect grip. “Say it. Who owns you.”
“You—you do,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, tears of pure, unadulterated pleasure blurring your vision as he absolutely devoured you from the inside out. “You do, fuck... Junmyeon—you feel so good. I’m gonna—”
“No, baby. You don’t cum until I tell you to,” Junmyeon swore, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his face flushed and his jaw locked in pure, obsessive lust. He slowed his pace for two agonizing strokes, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, making the friction so thick and wet it was deafening. “Swear to me, love. Swear you’re never gonna let anyone else touch you like this.”
“N-never,” you sobbed out, your hips instinctively bucking up to meet his heavy, brutal thrusts, completely addicted to the pain and the pleasure of him stretching you open. “Fucking ruin me, Junmyeon, please…”
You didn’t push his hand away. Instead, your fingers scrambled up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin—not to pull him off, but to anchor him there, silently demanding that he keep the pressure exactly where it was and push even deeper inside you.
“More,” you gasped out of breath, the word getting caught in your throat as tears of intense, overstimulated pleasure welled in your eyes and spilled down your temples. “I’m yours—I’m fucking yours!”
“That’s it. All mine,” he rasped, his own control disintegrating as his movements turned into a blurring, frantic frenzy of pure friction and sweat.
Neither of you could handle the raw, hyper-sensitive heat for more than a few minutes; it was a race to the absolute edge of your sanity, both of you completely lost in a blind, chaotic rhythm that was burning you both to the ground.
His heavy, sweat-slicked body was betraying him; every time he slammed deep inside you, a violent tremor would wrack his spine, his muscles locking up before he dragged himself back to plunge into you again. His lips were parted, his jaw strained so tight it looked like it would crack, and he was being incredibly loud, letting out deep, animalistic grunts and breathless curses with every heavy, wet thrust that echoed through the room.
“Jun—ah, please,” you choked out breathless, the sound barely escaping your throat as tears streamed down into your hair. Your hips bucked up on instinct, chasing the brutal friction, completely addicted to the agonizingly perfect pressure of his hand and his body. “I’m—I’m close—fuck, I can’t—”
“I know,” he growled, his gaze dark and hazed with an overwhelming, dangerous level of lust as he stared down at your wrecked face. Junmyeon finally freed your leg, but not your neck. He leaned down, his chest crushing your breasts, his mouth finding your ear as his hips accelerated into a blinding, frantic frenzy. “Just one… one more second. Shit—together. I wanna feel you crushing me.”
You nodded weakly. The raw sensation between your slick, swollen folds was deafening, a sloppy, desperate mess of skin against skin that threatened to burn you both down. Your fingers were clawing uselessly at his forearms as the pleasure became too intense to bear.
The press of his hand on your neck vanished the exact moment he lost it. A sharp, ragged gasp of air rushed back into your lungs just as your shared climax hit with a devastating, paralyzing force. Junmyeon’s control completely disintegrated; his hands slammed into the mattress on either side of your head, curling into white-knuckled fists as his entire body locked tight.
“Fuck…” he growled breathless.
You scrambled to hold him closer, wrapping your arms and trembling legs around his sweat-slicked frame, desperate to bridge any remaining distance, wanting to feel every single inch of your skin fused together. Inside you, his cock was throbbing violently, filling you up so completely that it felt like an electric current was surging through your veins. Your entire body was trembling, caught in a wave of violent, uncontrollable spasms.
Junmyeon couldn’t help himself—he gave a few final, sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts, rubbing your clit with his own thumbs, sending you entirely over the edge. Overstimulated to the point of delirium, you squirted against him, a high, fractured cry tearing from your throat and burying itself in the crook of his neck. You bit down on his shoulder, your nails anchoring deep into his back, riding the wave until he finally stopped moving altogether.
“Jesus Christ—Junmyeon!”
With a final, low groan, Junmyeon collapsed, his exquisite, heavy weight crushing you into the mattress. Neither of you moved an inch. You just lay there, a tangled tangle of limbs, sweaty, wet, and completely spent. Your internal walls and his muscles were still twitching with aftershocks as you both gasped for air.
Junmyeon let out a tired, breathless chuckle against your collarbone, the tension completely melted from his frame. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice a deep, gravelly ruin as he tightened one heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. “We... we need a shower.”
A breathless, exhausted laugh bubbled up from your chest, your lips brushing against his damp shoulder. “But you’re carrying me.”
“Deal.”
After the warm water of the shower had finally washed away the sticky, frantic evidence of the night, Junmyeon carried you back to the fresh side of the bed. The cool, clean sheets felt like heaven against your scrubbed skin, but you didn’t stay apart for long. Almost immediately, he pulled you against his chest, molding his body to your back and draping a heavy, possessive arm over your waist. He buried his face deep into the damp curve of your neck, his nose hidden in the strands of your hair as his breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic hum.
“Junmyeon?” you murmured. “That was my shampoo?”
He let out a lazy and completely unbothered song, shifting just a fraction, tightening his grip on your waist as if trying to physically anchor you into silence. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
You could hear the sheer exhaustion filling his lungs, his voice gravelly and weighed down by the sleep he was desperately chasing, but your curiosity got the better of you. “Don’t play dumb. You bought it, but you clearly haven’t used it. Why is it in there?”
“I like the smell,” he mumbled defensively into your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone.
A tiny, knowing smile tugged at your lips. Junmyeon had bought your exact shampoo just to have it ready for the moments you stayed over, a quiet gesture that felt incredibly loud.
Intrigued, you carefully rolled over within the tight circle of his arms to face him. The movement made him let out a soft, disgruntled groan, but he didn’t let you go. You blinked through the dark, finding his sleepy face just inches from yours. His eyes were tightly shut, his hair soft over his forehead, and his swollen lower lip was pulled into a faint, exhausted pout.
You reached up as you gently cupped his face. Your thumb brushed just below his eye, tracing the soft, relaxed skin. “Buying my shampoo just so when I’m here. Who knew my biggest rival was actually such a softie?”
Junmyeon let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated right against your fingertips. “I’m not soft,” he mumbled, his voice thick and entirely ruined by sleep. “I’m practical. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“It was also a practical move that you faked ending your run just when I came home?”
His eyes stayed shut, his arm tightening around your waist. “What the hell are you talking about? Please… go to sleep.”
“Liar,” you persisted, a sleepy, goofy smile spreading across your face as you remembered the struggle at your apartment door. "You were running with glasses, Junmyeon. You don’t do that. You just came because you saw me coming, fumbling with my keys, and then, you had the nerve to mock me.
“You were fumbling,” he murmured, a soft, amused laugh escaping his lips as he buried his face further into your hair, incapable of denying your accusation.
“I was perfectly sober,” you corrected, letting out a soft, absurd chuckle. “Those three cocktails didn’t even exist in my body. My system completely neutralized them.”
“Sure, sure.” He curved his lips, his voice thick with sleep. “We’ll see how that ‘neutralized’ system feels when the morning comes, and you’re begging me for aspirin.”
“Ugh, I hate you know me so well. But… you will give it to me just because I’m your favorite rival. Admit it.”
“Not quite sure,” he whispered back, finally wrapping his other arm around you to pull you completely into his space. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Maybe just for tonight.”
“Still wrong,” you mumbled. “I’m your only rival. Everyone else just lets you win. You’d be bored to death without me.”
Junmyeon let out one last, quiet chuckle; the sound felt warm and private. He shifted slightly, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
“Maybe you’re right.” His voice dropped to a low, sleepy confession. Before you could say another word, he guided your head down, nudging you until your face was completely hidden in the warm crook of his neck. “Sleep,” he whispered against your hair, his hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you tucked safely against him. “No more talking for tonight.”
You didn’t protest this time. Letting out a soft sigh, you wrapped one arm securely around his torso, anchoring him close. Your leg slid instinctively between his, lacing your limbs together under the heavy duvet until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.
As the heavy, comfortable silence of the room settled over you both once again, a quiet smile spread across your face, your eyes fluttering shut as you melted into his hold. And, against your hair, completely hidden in the dark (and the soft scent of your shampoo), Junmyeon was smiling too—neither of you truly knowing just how deeply the other was already losing the risky game.
✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼
↳ summary: a favor from your best friend spirals into something completely out of control
↳ wc: 7k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | smut, angst elements, some fluff | 18+ warnings: fingering, eaterrrrrr baek (oral sex - f receiving), hair pulling, raw p in v. some overstim, dirty talk, and implied cum eating but very light
↳ a/n: requested by lovely anon! i struggle so much with angst so i hope it at least partway delivers <3
“He’s such a fucking bum,” Baekhyun sighs. He throws the crumpled piece of paper in the air and it lands on your chest. “Who dumps people with a handwritten note?”
“That was so like him though,” you grumble. “He was so anti-phone. Every time I showed him a reel he would say, you know that stuff is rotting your brain, right?”
Baekhyun turns back from his position on the floor to look at you, scandalized. “You were sending him reels?”
“Yes?” You roll your eyes at his pout. “You know that you don’t like, own Instagram right? I’m allowed to send reels to other people besides you.”
“You’re not allowed to send reels to people that dump you through a handwritten note slid under your door.” He turns back around and leans his head back on the couch, the top of his head nearly touching your thigh. “You’re okay, though? You don’t seem very torn up about it.”
“What if I was?” you hum. “Would that be so terrible?”
“Are you?”
You aren’t. You’d dumped others and been dumped so many times but you’d never actually experienced heartbreak. It never felt real enough to you to feel the hurt. You’d simply nod and move on, blocking their numbers before you were even out the door. Baekhyun called you a sociopath, you called yourself realistic. Besides, who is he to judge anyways? How many nights have you spent rubbing his back because the pretty girl at the bar ghosted him? You think about saying this, but that wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say to your best friend, who was kind enough to open his door to you at midnight with no questions asked.
“He sucked,” you say instead.
“I could have told you that. I don’t think he knew my name. He just called everyone ‘bro.’ Even you.”
“He always made us split the bill when we went out.”
“I’m pretty sure he was trying to flirt with Jongin’s girlfriend last week.”
“He never ate me out.”
Baekhyun chokes, and for a second you think that maybe, for the first time in your fifteen years of friendship, you’ve gone too TMI. He makes that sound again, a strained, choking sound high in the back of his throat.
Then you realize that he’s laughing.
“Fuck off,” you mumble, tossing a throw pillow at his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wheezes. Is he wiping a fucking tear from his eyes right now? “It’s just like – go fucking figure, y’know?”
“What do you mean?”
He turns around to fully face you, still trying to stifle down his giggles. “Like, if there’s a guy who treats his girlfriend like shit there’s like a 90% chance he won’t go down on her either.”
Your eyebrows crease together. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why not?” he asks. “Like if a guy is a piece of shit he wouldn’t want to do something that’s solely for her pleasure. Of course he’d never turn down a blowjob, but the other way? No way.”
“But I don’t think it works the other way, right?” you say. “Like a guy can be a good partner but not do it.”
“I mean everyone has their preferences, I guess but a downright refusal without a good reason is kind of a red flag.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why are you getting defensive about this?”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are.”
“I guess ‘cus like… I’ve had partners that weren’t shitty people.”
Baekhyun falls silent, eyes wide and incredulous. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”
You groan and cover your burning face in your hands. “Can we drop it?”
“No one’s ever gone down on you?” he asks.
“Baek…”
“That’s fucking insane,” he mutters.
“Okay, well, since you’re the fucking sex expert how many times have you done it?” you spit out. You sit up, fully looking him in the eyes. The teasing glint is long gone now, replaced by something that you realize is close to pity.
“Like… every time?” he says weakly.
“Every time,” you repeat, voice flat. “Every time you hook up with a girl you go down on her?”
“I at least offer!”
A bitter silence falls over the two of you as you turn over this new piece of information in your head. Of course it’s something that you’ve thought about from time to time, but you always just thought it was something optional. A little appetizer to the main course. And you don’t get an appetizer every time you get a meal. But as you think back to all your partners, all the excuses that they gave you for not wanting to do it, you can’t help but feel… bad. Was there something about you that made all your partners not want to go down on you?
“It’s nothing wrong with you,” Baekhyun says. He has a funny way of doing that, assuming what you’re thinking without you saying anything. “I think you just happen to only date terrible people.”
“Thanks, Byun.”
He shrinks away. He knows you only call him that when you’re pissed. “Hey,” he says softly, tugging at your pajama pant leg. “I could do it for you if you wanted.”
You nearly shoot up straight in your seat. “Excuse me?”
He holds his hands up in front of his face, anticipating you to smack him. “I’m being serious. Just so you could see what all the hype is about.”
It’s not an immediately horrible idea. It was just a favor, a way for you to test the waters. But still, thinking that Baekhyun is (objectively) good looking and pretending that you don’t occasionally fantasize about him from time to time (which is a totally normal thing to happen to best friends) are completely different things from, well, actually having sex with him.
“Is it going to be weird?” you ask. “Y’know, after?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think so. I’ve had lots of meaningless sex.”
“Ouch.”
“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “I mean that we’re not going to fall in love or anything just because I put my mouth on you. You’ll still be my best friend.”
“Besides,” he continues. “Won’t it feel better knowing that it’s coming from someone who cares about you? Instead of some rando who won’t pay for dinner?”
“Can you please be nicer about my dating history?”
“Date a normal guy then I'll see.” Baekhyun sticks his pinky out towards you. “We can drop it right now and I’ll never bring it up again, I swear. But if you’re interested… I’m offering.”
As you stare at his outstretched pinky, you think one more time that maybe this is a bad idea. Then, your treacherous mind betrays you. How bad could it be? It was only a one time thing.
“You better be good,” you say, hooking your pinky with his.
He grins cheekily. “Never had any complaints.”
The two of you wisely decide to not do anything that night, to give you both some time to think about it and maybe even back out. You almost do. Several times, in fact. But the curiosity always wins out over the anxiety in the end. One week later, you’re in your own apartment, sitting next to each other on the side of your bed. He’s freshly showered, and he smells like your shampoo (he always uses too much), and suddenly this is feeling too real.
“It’s just me,” he says softly, noticing your nerves. “Do you want to back out?”
You hesitate for only a second before firmly shaking your head, as if doing so could convince the butterflies in your stomach to settle. “I’m ready.”
Baekhyun’s eyes flutter shut as he leans forward, pursing his lips the slightest amount. A strange feeling, a mix of overwhelm, panic, and maybe even manic laughter fills your chest. “Wait,” you blurt out.
He opens his eyes, biting back an exasperated sigh. “We can stop.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s the… can we not kiss?”
There’s a pause, before he throws his hands up in disbelief. “No kissing?”
“You said it yourself, this is meaningless. And kissing just kinda makes it mean something to me?” Your voice shrinks with every word, wilting under the incredulity of his gaze.
“Meaningless wasn’t a good word,” he says quietly. Almost regretfully. “But yeah. Okay, we can skip the kissing.” He has an unreadable expression for a moment before he shakes it off, replacing it with the easygoing air that you’re used to. “Not sure how you want to get in the mood without it but–”
The words die on his tongue when you abruptly pull your shirt over your head, reaching back to unhook your bra before you have the chance to feel self-conscious about it. His gaze drops down, eyes widening almost comically. You shove the rest of your clothes down your legs and shift onto the bed so that you’re laying back against the pillows. “You’re the expert,” you say, trying to ignore the way that your voice is trembling slightly. “So show me how you get started.”
Baekhyun swallows, trying to not be too shameless in the way he’s staring at your body, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips slightly before he settles in between your legs. “Can I–?” he says carefully, his hand brushing against your waist.
“Do anything you want to do,” you exhale. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”
He lays down onto his stomach and spreads your legs, hooking his arm under your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut of their own accord, breath hitching in anticipation. What if you don’t like it after all? you think. What if he doesn’t? What if there actually is something wrong with me and he’s just like the rest of them?
A small gasp rips from your throat when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, brushing lightly at first before kissing the plush skin there. Your heart is hammering behind your ribcage, muscles tensing when he switches to the other side. You feel exposed with your core so close to his face, even more so since you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
After what seems simultaneously like a lifetime and a lightning flash, he finally focuses his attention onto your pussy. He starts slow, licking a long stripe up the length of your cunt, flicking his tongue at the top. Then his mouth descends, tongue dipping into your pussy, a low and almost inaudible groan leaving his mouth.
“Ah–” You let your head tip back against the pillows, eyes falling shut as he works his mouth over you. His tongue is so wet, lips so soft. You lose yourself in it for a while, slowly getting used to the feeling of him, the slick noises between your legs make you less embarrassed as each second slips by.
His lips abruptly seal over your clit and you jolt when he starts to suck. Your legs twitch in his hold of their own volition, your fists scrambling to clutch the sheets below you. “Oh, that feels good,” you gasp, your voice coming out breathy, foreign to your own ears.
Baekhyun repeats the motion, losing his grip on one of your thighs to bring the pads of his fingers to your dripping hole, shallowly thrusting the tips inside, flirting with your entrance. You buck your hips, inviting him in, pulse pounding in your ears as the pressure in your stomach continues to build higher and higher.
The second that he slips his fingers completely inside of you, you know that it’s over.
Long, slim digits slide inside of you, searching for the one spot that will make you break, mouth still working over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking. “You like that?” he asks, gaze burning, studying your expression.
He groans against your skin, and the sound of his voice, usually so light and airy, pitched lower with thinly disguised desperation, sends a new wave of arousal pulsing through you. “My hair,” he gasps, pulling away from you for a second. You look down to meet his gaze and are nearly bowled over by the sight of him: expression dark and thick with lust, lips pink and wet, dripping with you. “Put your hand in my hair.”
Your fingers sink into the soft locks of his hair, pushing his face against you. You’re practically riding his face now, but you don’t care, can’t care when it feels so good. WIth a final cry of his name, his mouth and his fingers bring you to the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, crackling like static in your veins. Your back bows, arching into him, your grip on his hair borderline painful. He keeps going, prolonging the pleasure until it becomes too much and you’re softly pleading for him to give in.
“Holy fuck,” you say finally.
“Good?” he asks. You look down to find him smirking playfully, equal parts annoying and endearing.
“Solid 8 out of 10,” you reply. “Always room for improvement.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes and gets up, handing you your clothes from the side of the bed. “I just gave you head and you wanna be smart with me.” He stands and your eyes widen when you see his sweatpants.
He’s hard as fuck.
“Do you want– um–” Your eyes flick away, trying to look anywhere but at it.
“Nah, it’s all good,” Baekhyun replies easily. If he’s embarrassed, he doesn’t show it, even if his voice sounds rough with need. “This was supposed to be for you.”
“Oh. Okay.” The reminder of all this is— a one-time favor— hits again. You try to pretend that you’re not disappointed. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure, but I get to pick.” He nudges you to scoot over and slides into bed next to you as if nothing’s changed, as if things are going to go back to normal just as easily as they had skewed from it.
Things don’t go back to normal.
How could they? Both of you had been too stupid, too naive (too hopeful?) to think otherwise. Baekhyun casts glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, and you find yourself zoning out into his face until he has to snap in front of you. When he feeds you a bite from his meal, as he always does, you notice the way that he swallows, gaze drifting to watch your lips close over his fork.
It’s torture. You can’t even get yourself off without thinking about the feeling of his mouth on you. Seeking other people is out of the question entirely because now that he’d shown you exactly what you’d been missing, how could you ever settle for anything less? You throw yourself into anything you can: work, exercise, picking up abandoned hobbies. Anything to get your mind off of him, off the sound of his voice when he’s turned on, the feeling of his hair in your fist…
“Are you like… okay?”
You blink back to reality, back from where you’ve been watching Baekhyun walk to the restroom, back to focus on Kyungsoo in front of you.
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, eating a fry to distract yourself. “Just been a bit distracted lately.”
Across the table, Kyungsoo narrows his eyes inquisitively. “Distracted by… Baekhyun?” he says carefully.
You deflate. “Is it that obvious?”
“Um… yes? I feel like I’m third-wheeling the two of you more than usual.”
“Soo…” You put your head in your hands and whine. “I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone and you need to be normal when Baek comes back.”
“No promises.”
“We… hooked up. Sort of.”
Instead of any sort of reaction of surprise, Kyungsoo just blinks at you. “Oh. You haven’t been hooking up this whole time?”
“What?!” You lower your voice when the neighboring tables whip their heads to look at you. “Is that what people think?”
“People think that you guys are full on together and have been for years,” he deadpans.
“Well, you know that we’re not, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he shrugs. “But there’s always the possibility that things are happening beyond my knowledge.”
“What do I do?”
Kyungsoo pauses. “Are things just awkward now? If it’s that, then I think it’ll fizzle out on its own.”
“No, it’s that… I think I kind of like him? Or at least want to hook up with him again. And I think that maybe he also wants to?”
“So hook up again.”
In the corner of your eye you see Baekhyun leave the restroom so you adjust your posture, stealthily raising your eyebrow towards him so that Kyungsoo knows he’s coming. “It’s not that easy, Soo.”
“I think it is,” he replies, then clears his throat before raising the volume of his voice. “Anyways, did you want to get dessert?”
“Ooh, you guys are talking about dessert?” Baekhyun slides into the booth next to you, stealing a fry off your plate easily. “Can we split a slice of cheesecake?”
“Get your own slice, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “Last time you hogged it all.”
Baekhyun splutters in protest, and you laugh, ignoring the way that your heart squeezes.
“You wanna come by my place for a bit? Watch a movie?” Baekhyun asks.
When Kyungsoo left the car just moments ago, it’s as if he took all of the easygoing nature of the hangout with him. Now the atmosphere is heavy, wrought with tension so thick you can practically taste it. Baekhyun drums his fingers against the wheel anxiously.
You could say no. You have to do your grocery shopping tomorrow, your place is a wreck and you need to do a deep clean, you don’t have any of the belongings you need to stay overnight (which is a complete non-issue. You’ve had extra clothes and a spare toothbrush at his for as long as you can remember). You’re not stupid: you know what will end up happening if you stay the night.
But a part of you that you aren’t quite ready to reckon with yet wants it.
“Sure,” you say.
Neither of you are paying attention to the movie that he throws on when you get there. His arm around you is nothing new, his knee knocking against yours is familiar territory, but it all feels so different now. You’re hyperaware of everything: every shift he makes, every time he clears his throat.
Your heart hammers in your chest, beating behind your ribcage with a ferocity you’ve never known before. Calm down, you think. This is Baekhyun. This is Baekhyun and this is normal and we’re just best friends–
He calls your name.
Softly. Pleading.
When you turn towards him, his face is so close that you can count every individual eyelash, see every mole on his face in spectacular detail. The soft glow from the lamplight bathes him in gold. His gaze drifts down, down towards your mouth, his lips parting ever so slightly.
Fuck it.
Before you know it, you’re straddling him, thighs bracketing his hips. You throw your shirt over your head and unclip your bra, shuddering slightly when he splays his hand across your side. His lips dip toward yours and you pull away in a panic.
“No kissing,” you whisper.
He exhales harshly, almost like a laugh, before he diverts his pathway to your neck. “God, you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. His hands reach up to cup your tits, brushing your nipples under his thumb.
You roll your hips down, pressing yourself against his hardening cock with increasing intensity. “Shit,” he hisses, pulling away. “Lay down for me.” He pushes you gently onto your back, discarding his clothing and the rest of yours in the process. His fingers enter you slowly, stretching you out as he covers your body with his.
“You’re so obvious, y’know?” he chuckles against your skin when you whine. “Practically giving me fuck me eyes every damn day.”
“Fuck you.” Your voice holds no malice, not even a little bit of bite, going breathy around the edges when he thrusts his fingers in deep. “You’re not any better. I saw you looking at my ass the other day.”
“Can you blame me?” He pulls out and positions you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his cock positioned at your entrance. “You’re fucking perfect.”
He doesn’t waste any time, immediately thrusting into you at a brutal pace. It’s messy, frantic, your blood thrumming through your veins. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life, each thrust pushing you deeper into the couch cushions.
“Holy fuck,” you moan, your head falling back. “Just like that.”
“Yeah?” he grunts, his fringe hanging low over his eyes, casting the top half of his face in shadow. “Tell me how good it is.”
You don’t even have it in you to make a smart comment back, too bowled over by the quick pace and the mounting pleasure. “S-So good, Baek. Don’t stop.”
He pulls out of you momentarily just to drape your legs over his shoulders, practically bending you in half when he re-enters your slick pussy, caging his arms around your head. The position makes you feel so vulnerable, so completely under his will that it sends a thrill up your spine.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of keeping up the pace, “just how much I’ve thought about you since that night? Can’t get the fuckin’ taste of you out of my head.”
You whimper at the heat of his confession. “Me too,” you say. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Never had anyone like that.”
He chuckles, slowing his hips until he’s just grinding into you. “And what about this? Any of those assholes fuck you this good?”
You shake your head, subtly arching into him, trying to get him to resume his pace. “Never. Keep going, need more.”
“Gonna have to hear you say ‘please,’” he teases.
“God, please,” you gasp. “Please, I want it.”
He fucks into you like he has something to prove, moving his hips with devastating precision. His control is slipping, you see it in the way that his jaw tenses, feel it in the way his hips start to stutter. You’re no better— with every minute, you feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you, the overwhelming heat coiling low in your stomach.
“I’m close,” you whisper.
“Me too,” he says, voice breaking. He snakes his hand around as best as he can to reach your clit, the pad of his finger brushing the sensitive nub. “With me, please. Wanna feel it.”
You unravel together, bodies curled in on one another. It rolls through you in waves, white-hot pleasure that makes your vision turn to static around the edges. His fingers dig into your sides, breath hot as he pants against your collarbone, emptying himself inside of you.
You don’t even have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pulling out and kneeling on the floor, draping your legs over his shoulders once again. “What are you— fuck!” Your oversensitive body twitches when he puts his tongue against you, sealing his lips over your clit and inserting two fingers inside.
“I need to taste you again,” he pants. Desperate, needy in a primal way that makes you dizzy. “Please.”
Your moans turn to full-on whimpers as he brings you back to the edge in record time, squeezing your eyes shut as you tremble through it. You cum with a shout of his name, gripping his hair between your fingers.
Then, as your body comes down to Earth, the reality of what’s happened starts to dawn on you.
Uncertainty settles in before anything else. You shift so that you can meet Baekhyun’s gaze, but to your amazement, you don’t see your own hesitance reflected back at you. He smiles at you easily, charmingly, as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out.
“You alright?” he asks. “Was it too rough?”
“No,” you say, voice hoarse. “Can you get my clothes?”
You get dressed in silence, watching the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his shirt over his head. What the fuck just happened? Last time was just a one-off, a favor. But this?
“Can we talk about this?”
Baekhyun’s easygoing facade slips for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, sit down.”
You sit down next to him on the couch—the couch where you had just had sex, what the fuck?—and take a deep breath. “Where are we going with this? The sex and stuff?”
He shrugs. “Wherever you want it to go. Are you having fun?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page about, y’know, expectations and stuff.”
Baekhyun chooses his next words carefully before reaching over and putting his hand on top of yours. “We can always stop and I won’t be upset or disappointed. But if you’re open to it, I would really like to keep doing this.”
“I’m just scared it’s going to change things for us.”
“Nothing will change,” he whispers, smiling. “You’re still my best friend.”
And the way he looks at you… how can you be expected not to believe him?
It becomes a routine.
Frantic quickies at 3am, lazy morning sex, even in the back of his car after a party. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can’t keep his hands off of you. Nearly every time you’re alone together, your clothes end up discarded, forgotten on the floor. He learns his way around your body quickly, until making you cum is second nature, as easily as making you laugh. You’re not a bad student either: you learn that he really likes it when you beg, loves it even more when you say his name right before you shatter on his fingers, on his lips, on his cock.
One more time turns into two more times turns into five. Full days pass where the two of you spend all day in bed, lazily dozing in between sessions until you remember that there actually is an outside world that you have to attend to. You’re running out of turtlenecks to wear to work, the only clothing sufficient enough to hide the constellations of love bites across your neck and chest.
Despite all this, he’s still your best friend. You still swap inside jokes, still annoy the hell out of each other. He’s still your comfort person, your safe space, even as you become more vulnerable with him than you ever thought possible.
It’s another lazy night following a lazy day spent in bed. You trace abstract patterns on his back absentmindedly when he perks up suddenly. “I’m bored,” he says. “You wanna go for a walk?”
“Right now?” you ask. “It’s dark out.”
“We’ll just walk to the park and back. What, you don’t think I’ll protect you if any monsters come out of the shadows?”
To Baekhyun’s credit, the park is actually well-lit at night. You take the winding trail through the trees slowly, with all the time in the world. You still find things to talk about, even after years of friendship, after all the hours that you’ve been spending together recently.
“Do you hear that?” Baekhyun asks. And you do, the sounds of live music drawing closer and closer. As you approach the gazebo, you see an older man sitting inside, playing his guitar.
“Hey, isn’t this–?” you say.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen in recognition before a smile spreads across his face. “Oh yeah!”
A high school dance, one of the few that you attended, you can’t remember which one. You had both been rejected by your crushes and ended up having to go with each other. During the slow dance to this very song, the two of you decided to dance together but could not for the life of you stop giggling. Dirty looks were cast your way by the other couples on the dance floor, but you kept snickering into his shoulder, and he kept muffling his laughter in your hair.
“Shall we dance?” he asks, holding his hand out in an exaggerated manner.
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you curtsy before taking his hand.
It starts out the same way, all giggly and joking, Baekhyun twirling and dipping you until your head spins. You see the old man cast a smile your way and you nod at him as he continues playing. “Beautiful!” he shouts.
“Isn’t she?” Baekhyun laughs.
And maybe it’s the way that you become aware of his steady hand on your waist, maybe it’s the way that his eyes crinkle up at the edges when he smiles. But all of a sudden, you become painfully, horribly, much too aware of the fact that you are definitely, without question, in love with him.
When had it all changed? Somewhere among all the times that you were under him? In between the whispered praises, the affectionate touches? Or maybe, God forbid, were the feelings there all along?
It doesn’t really matter in the end. All that you know is that everything is different now. It’s as if the world ceases spinning, time slows to a crawl. You’re in love with your best friend. The realization is enough to knock the wind out of your chest.
Baekhyun tilts his head at you questioningly. “You okay?” he murmurs, eyebrows creasing with concern.
You just nod. Your emotions are so stuck in your throat that you’re afraid to answer. The gentle strumming of the guitar stops, leaving the two of you in the silence of the night.
“What’s up with you?”
You blink and find Baekhyun staring at you, concerned. “Nothing,” you reply.
“You’ve been so quiet lately,” he says. “Distant.”
“Just have some things on my mind.” You can’t, won’t meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since that night in the park, and all of your energy has been focused on keeping everything normal. The way it always was, the way it always should be. But your mask has been slipping lately, wearing your irritation on your sleeve, spacing out more than usual. Baekhyun’s too perceptive to have gone this long without noticing.
He turns back to the TV, worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth the way he does when he’s thinking. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” And for a moment, you feel your heart rate start to pick up, fluttering with hope. You know that I have feelings for you, right? You imagine how those words would sound coming from him. Would he say it in a serious way? Or with that same, lighthearted confidence that’s permeated your entire friendship?
“That I’m seeing someone.”
You didn’t think it was possible for your entire world to shatter with just four words. He has the audacity to look surprised when you gasp, an ugly, strangled sound in the back of your throat.
“Is that… not what–”
“What?”
“I’m sorry!” he splutters. “I thought you figured it out and that’s why you were pulling away–”
You stand up and pace across the room, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Shielding yourself from him. “Since when?”
“For like a month,” he says quietly.
“Baek… we hooked up so much in the past–”
“I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, frustrated. “I know. But we’ve really just been talking and only went on a couple dates and just decided that we should be exclusive. Like literally last night.”
You laugh bitterly. “So we have to stop, then. Thanks for the fucking heads up, I guess.”
“Stop what?”
You look at him as if he’s grown two heads. “Are you joking?”
Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “If you’re asking me if we have to stop having sex, then yes, we have to stop having sex.”
“No shit, Byun.” You sigh, a clusterfuck of emotions rising like bile in your chest. “But where does it stop? We’re going to have to stop hanging out, she probably won’t like it if we hang out at all.”
“Okay, hold on.” Baekhyun stands and grabs you gently by both shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions. I love you, but please calm down.”
I love you. It hits you like a slap to the face. “Don’t say that.”
His face twists with pain. “I know you hate when I tell you to calm down but I need you to hear me right now. Nothing’s going to change. We just have to stop hooking up, okay?”
Of course he doesn’t even register that the calm down part of the sentence wasn’t the part that bothered you. “Right. Remember what happened the last time we said nothing was going to change between us?”
Baekhyun falls silent, grappling with the right words to say. Finally, he settles on, “Please. Please don’t hate me for this.”
You throw your hands up in frustration, twisting out of his grip to grab your bag and head towards the door. “I don’t know, it kinda feels like you’re breaking up with me right now.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice hardens instantly. “We’re friends. We’re just best friends.”
“Best friends don’t do this!” you yell. “They don’t have morning sex or dance with each other at the park or have sit down conversations saying that they have to stop hooking up because one of them started seeing someone. They just don’t.”
“So what are you saying then?” he says, tone sharp enough to cut with, dripping with malice. “That you’re in love with me or something?”
Your breath hitches. The way he says it as if it’s something so terrible.
“What if I am?” Your voice cracks, small and pathetic.
He melts instantly, all the venom sucked out of him in one go, and you see your best friend again. “Oh.”
Humiliation spreads like a virus in your chest. So he didn’t know after all.
“I’m so sorry–”
You throw your bag over your shoulder. The second your back turns to him, the hot tears fall down your face. “It’s fine. Just forget it.”
“Wait, please–”
“I said forget it.” You head towards the door without another look back at him, slamming it shut behind you. You almost want to wait to hear the hurried footsteps behind you, but you can’t stand the thought of waiting in that cold, empty hallway, waiting to be followed by someone who would never come.
The calls stop after the third day.
Before the silence, he calls every hour on the hour. You listen to a few of the voicemails from the first day. Hi, can we please talk about this? I don’t want to lose you. Please. After a while, it gets too painful to hear his voice, and the number of unopened voicemails ticks higher and higher until they don’t anymore.
You hardly leave your apartment as weeks go by. It hadn’t occurred to you before now just how much time you had been spending with him. Your days feel emptier now, lacking a spark that he always brought. The silence of your empty place feels almost oppressive.
The thought comes into your mind one night when you’re burying your feelings into a pint of ice cream that this must be what it feels like to be heartbroken. You laugh a bit at the irony– you always figured that the first time you would experience this, you’d at least have the solace of your best friend to crawl to.
A rapt knocking at your front door brings you out of your stupor and your heart leaps into your throat. You sit frozen for a few seconds before the knocking comes again. Before you can think about it too hard, you’re on your feet bounding towards the door.
“Baek, I–”
“Uh, hi?”
It’s not Baekhyun on the other end, but Kyungsoo, who looks a little startled at your appearance. “I was getting a little worried about you, you haven’t answered any of my texts.”
“Oh, um… you can come in. It’s a bit of a mess.”
Kyungsoo looks around your place as he steps inside, littered with trash and piles of laundry. You have half a mind to be embarrassed about it, but he just looks with concern, free of judgement. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
You tell him everything, trying your best not to trip over your words, determined to get through the story without crying. Kyungsoo listens silently, nodding when appropriate, but never makes a move to interject. Finally, when you’re done, and the lump in your throat feels almost too large to bear, he says, “So you haven’t contacted him since this happened?”
“No.”
“And he just sent a bunch of voicemails, didn’t text, didn’t show up here?”
“Yes.”
“And you… want him to?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Your head sinks into your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyelids. “I don’t know what I feel right now. I just wish that we never did anything to begin with so I never had to realize these feelings.”
“Well… we can’t take it back. And I think it’s obvious now that things have changed, so… now all that’s left to do is renegotiate the terms of the relationship.”
“But what if…” Your voice comes out small. “What if I don’t like his terms? What if he doesn’t like mine?”
You feel a gentle hand on your back. “You won’t know until you talk about it. That goes for him too. He needs to be a better communicator. Jesus.”
You laugh wetly. “It’s something we’ve always had in common.”
“Avoidance attachment?”
When you peek up through your fingers, Kyungsoo’s smiling good-naturedly. “C’mon, get up. Take a shower and I’ll clean up a little.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you groan.
“I know. I want to. You don’t have a choice.”
The next time you hear a knock on your door, you know that it’s not Kyungsoo.
Baekhyun smiles at you sadly in the doorway, already looking like he’s bracing himself for your rejection. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say. Your tongue feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
“I can leave if you want me to, and I won’t bother you again, I swear. I just thought I’d try to talk to you one last time?”
You swallow, then open the door wider. “Come in.”
He looks tired. He hovers around the corners of the room as if he doesn’t know this place better than his own. You get him a glass of water, and you sit awkwardly side by side on your couch. The silence is nearly unbearable, but thankfully, he doesn’t take very long to break it.
“I broke up with her.”
You nod slowly. “When?”
“A day after everything,” Baekhyun says. “I told you in a voicemail, but uh, I assumed you were ignoring it or you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I didn’t hear it,” you admit. “But I never asked you to do that for me.”
“You didn’t have to.” Baekhyun takes a breath, fidgeting with the glass in his hands. “I was scared to admit that becoming physical with you had changed things between us. I thought that if I tried looking elsewhere that things between us could go back to the way they were.”
“You wanted things to go back?” you ask.
“I thought that I would rather things go back to normal than to lose you entirely.”
“You kept insisting that things never changed,” you say. “You were the one that kept that boundary.”
“I know,” he sighs. He looks up at you, dark eyes broken. “I was a fucking idiot. I thought that if I kept saying it, I would believe it.”
“Couldn’t you feel it?” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, stinging the back of your throat. “Couldn’t you feel that I was falling for you?”
“I didn’t want to believe it. I thought it was my brain telling me what I wanted to hear.” Baekhyun laughs. “I’m such a mess. I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t.” You reach over and grab his hands. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, eyes glimmering with hope. “You didn’t ruin anything, Baek. I should have been more upfront with my feelings too. I shouldn’t have ignored your calls.”
Baekhyun worries his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking again. “So if you were to be more upfront about your feelings now, what would you say?”
“I would say…” You take a deep breath. “That I think I’m in love with you. And I want to try being something more than your best friend.”
His face breaks into a relieved grin. “I love you too. And I’m so, so sorry for everything.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I do,” he frowns. “I did a really douchey thing to you and I regret it—”
You cut him off by climbing into his lap, putting both of your hands on the sides of his face. His words die on his tongue, lips falling apart in awe, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“Please,” you whisper. “Just kiss me.”
Soft lips meet yours cautiously, hesitantly. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close, deepening the kiss at the same time. He kisses you with care, like you have all the time in the world, moving his lips against yours perfectly in sync.
And it’s so amazing. It’s unfair just how amazing it feels, how long you’ve denied yourself from being like this, from being with him. You melt in his arms, losing yourself in the rhythm of his lips, the soft gasps of breath in between, the warmth of his body against yours.
You slip your hands into his hair and he groans, breaking apart from you for a second. “Don’t do that,” he murmurs.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I… I like it a lot.” He looks up at you through his lashes, exhaling shakily. “I just want to do this for a while and that makes it really hard for me to not carry you into your bedroom right now.”
You smile, rolling your hips down once, decisively, onto his lap before dipping down for another kiss. “No reason why we can’t do both,” you whisper.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen before he brings you in even closer, pressing his face into your shoulder. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Just making up for lost ti—ah!” Your hands scramble to grab onto his shoulders as he stands, carrying you to the bedroom. Your laughter echoes off the walls of your apartment as he walks, filling the place with the light that it sorely missed, that it won’t ever be without from this moment on.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
i need friend u can keep so bad… please… i’m desperate
omg... this unlocked a hefty memory 😭😭😭😭 truth is... i kinda gave up on that fic a while ago.... pls don't hate me my writing is fucking inconsistent and i learned from my mistakes to not promise any releases bc i suck on fulfilling them. i have a few things on my drafts that will eventually see the light of day when i have the inspo to come back to writing regularly, but thank you so much for loving the ones i posted last year 🥺🥺🥺 i love you.
bae i need to know how ur genius brain thinks abt a threesome w baek and chanyeol….
ouuuu that's an interesting idea!! i actually have a fic or two bookmarked of chanbaek threesome too they're very tastyyyyy. but if i were to write my spin on it how would you suggest it anon???
part of the 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 <𝟑 𝐛𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧 .ᐟ ۶ৎ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 kinktober!
day 08 .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ webcam. wc: 2,4K words
baekhyun cherishes his duo the most — you — often hogging your dms because he swears you're the best gaming partner he's ever had, saying everything you do together feels better, especially through the webcam. oh, and gaming too.
other warnings: comedy, baekhyun is a needy puppy for you because you game well, cursing, dirty talking galore, video call mastubation, cum eating, pet names, slightly subby energy baekhyun.
taglist! @miabbh @novashyun (pls comment if you wanna be added!)
baekhyun would always be the one most interested in entering call with you, always spamming your chat in a way that felt as annoying as it felt flattering.
you were by the kitchen, avoiding spending too much time on your pc because you wanted to get your things done, but baekhyun just could not, for the life of him, game on his own.
helluuuuuuuuuu
why are you ignoring me?!?!?!
wait are you actually ignoring me...?
you replied a few minutes ago!!!!!
its my free time youre obligated to answer and game with me~~~~~
i can just spam you like this if you dont
ababaudhxhxishzjvstxfa
you almost bashed your phone down against the table, wanting to silence it completely for the time being, perhaps even pretend you were offline.
but he knew you wouldn't.
babababagagxhxvz
wnabqhfcfwfcyunggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!
yeonyeonyeong~~~~
by the time you checked again, he had spammed your chat with even more gibberish, only stopping when you finally replied him with something.
OKAY
STOP
i'm logging on the damn pc holy shit
you have a whole server of friends to game with and you can't just call anyone else?
maybe i just wanted some detox???
you huffed, entering your bedroom to turn on your desktop, the one he recommended you.
soon enough, your chat with him opened automatically with another whole string of messages paired with his puppy profile. it almost felt mocking the way the dog smiled mischeviously.
definitely the most fitting picture to match his texting.
YAY
yayayayayayayay!!!!!!!!!
is it on yet?!? we r at the server!!! have u logged yet?!?!?
hop on league!! lets duo bot on league today!!!!!!
ill even let you play support lux to match me and my skin ><
huuuu~??? detox from what?!? you cant keep away from gaming!!!
even if you keep away from me when youre being a meanieㅠㅠ
you sighed, closing his chat without having an answer to his jest, then entered the server where baekhyun and your other friends were all located, waiting for you to join in to get a full party. he probably told them all you would get in before you even replied to him.
the call wasn't very loud when you entered, but what welcomed you was baekhyun with his webcam on, smiling mischievously before speaking onto the mic. "you made it!"
you sighed, greeting everyone when they also welcomed you. the invite to their match was instant. 'ranked flex'. of course, they wanted competitive matches.
"uh, guys. who said i'm gonna play support?"
your friends stopped talking, fumbling with a proper explanation as they switched roles to leave your favorite role open. mid lane, of course.
you could see baekhyun pout slightly, not saying anything.
one of them spoke up nervously. "uh, baekhyun did. he said... you were gonna duo with him on botlane?"
it made you scoff, not sparing a second to put your midlane role on the lobby. you weren't even planning on gaming today, so if you were going to, you were doing it the way you liked it. "nah. i'm good staying in mid."
baekhyun didn't say anything, but you could see annoyance hinted at his features before he eventually turned off the webcam when your friends started the queue.
the match started quietly, you doing the routinely early game with ease, stacking up your resources while also matching the pace of your opponent. in a minute, you got first blood, smiling in satisfaction. your friends all commended you, then baekhyun when he got a kill right a little late.
it felt fun, even if it was something you'd done for a long time. it was simple enough to outsmart your opponent and snowball ahead with the experience you had. you started to roam around the map to get more kills and help your friends simultaneously.
you caught baekhyun and your friend — his support — discussing what was the better approach, seeing they were having a hard time with the enemy's counterpicks.
it only took for you to show up, eliminate both threats by yourself, and siege with them to leave the advantage to baekhyun, who muttered 'thanks' quietly.
since you were the only one in your team who got ahead, it wasn't as smooth to bring the enemy team to defeat when they were grouped up.
you came up with a strategy for you to teamfight when they were most vulnerable, strategizing your team with baekhyun, who also had some quips, despite being a little behind.
when the plan was set in motion, you hid and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike everyone, earning you a team kill at the cost of some deaths, including baekhyun's. your team didn't seem to mind, hyping you up with screaming and cheering, cursing how good you actually were.
you laughed, but it didn't feel as exciting when baekhyun had muted himself and his audio, most likely unable to keep up.
after all of you gathered and secured the win, everyone celebrated, complimenting you one last time before each of your friends started talking about another topic.
you looked at baekhyun's name on the voice channel, still muted. you came up on his dms again, slightly worried.
you okay?
you didn't know if you had actually upset him by not duoing with him, even if he knew support wasn't your main role. he replied quickly afterwards.
yeah
just felt a little behind and couldn't get back into the game
you played phenomenally, as always
you sighed, already noticing his changed typing.
i'm sorry i didn't duo with you
you looked at the lobby while everyone was busy talking to each other, then spoke up even if he wasn't listening. "hey, i'm going support this time."
nah. it's fine
i know you prefer mid
you're great at it, too
i guess i felt a little bad because i wanted to be the one carrying you
im sorry, that's dumb of me ㅠㅠ
you smiled reading that, this dork. then typed back.
look at the lobby silly
unmute already, i miss your mic hogging
ill do ap lux tho
in a few seconds, baekhyun unmuted as if nothing happened. "guys, i'm back!"
of course you will ㅋㅋㅋ
you giggled, watching him turn his webcam back on to do silly expressions, joking with you when you all queued up again.
the match was much more light-hearted than the first one. it was clear that, regardless of what you said, you and baekhyun synergized completely together. and with you being his support, baekhyun easily snowballed into carrying the whole team, which made everyone groan each time he boasted happily about how he has the 'best support ever'.
you played with your friends for a few hours before everyone retreated to just chatting, then one by one, they started leaving the channel, leaving only the two of you together.
staring at his face on the webcam, you saw his pouty lips deciding what to do next and what game to play.
if you're still bummed how about we get out of here and do something fun together?
you texted in amusement, watching his eyes widen a little.
"oh, you're still here..." he murmured, smiling sheepishly to the camera, then shaking his head. "no. i wasn't even bummed!"
you giggled teasingly, basking on his flustered reaction. "right. and you didn't quiet down for a whole game just because i wasn't your beloved support?"
with that, he frowned, looking away from the webcam to mutter. "well, i meant it when i said you're the best support for me. it's frustrating to try and replicate our dynamic and fail because... it's not you."
that made your teasing tone dim, yet your eyes darken as you grinned wanting to give him something for being this loveable. "i think you're just flattering me like that because you want something from me, baekhyunie."
he choked on his breath, eyes as wide as saucers when he looked everywhere on his monitor, putting his hand on his chest when he realized you were both alone on the voice channel.
"ah, fuck. don't do that!" baekhyun complains, sighing from the scare. "i thought the guys were still listening in!"
you chuckled, biting your lip at the sight. "do what? what can't our friends hear us say, baekhyunie?" your voice purred, making him groan, closing his eyes tight.
he shut his jaw tight, silently leaving you alone on the server's voice channel, smiling to yourself. at any moment now.
then the private videocall popped up, ringing on your screen. the puppy picture and the 'baekhyunie <3' stared at you for a second while you decided how long you'd keep him waiting.
and finally with a sigh, you picked it up, seeing flustered baekhyun curled up in his gaming chair, his head down. he was fiddling with his black shirt before looking up to the camera, hearing you pick up.
you turned your camera on too, watching him silently with the curl of your lips. it shouldn't have been as fun as it was to see him waiting for you to say something. anything.
when you didn't, he sighed, looking downwards. "...you wanted to do something with me?" he murmured shyly, biting his lip.
god, it made your insides warm. "mhm." you hummed on the mic, seeing him gulp shyly. "thought you wanted it too, considering you were so eager for me to log in."
baekhyun blushed again, sighing to himself. "i-i wanted to game with you..." he shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance even though you hadn't said anything. not yet at least.
"is that so? is that really all you wanted to do with me, baekhyunie?" you tilted your head, your hand teasing the strap of your top. you saw exactly how his pupils dilated, how he swallowed dry, lips opening and closing from being unable to hide how he felt.
"i guess... i also thought about you seeing me." he blurted, pushing his hair back as he adjusted his headphones, sitting properly on his chair, giving you a proper view of him. "helping me."
"you need my help with what...? finding relief again, baekhyunie?" you asked with a whisper, seeing him shiver. he nodded repeatedly, the spot on his groin gradually growing in size in his sweatpants.
"please, baby, i... i wanna do it again with you, since we're far away from each other. and i'm so..." he sighed, shutting his eyes, "horny. for you." he opened them again, staring straight at the webcam.
his eyes were completely dark, despite the fluster still visible on his expression. it made your thighs clench together, your camera also catching that.
"show me, baekhyun." you said, already affected because of him. baekhyun nodded silently, breathing for a second as he stood up in front of the webcam, showcasing his bulge.
"can you... see it clearly?" he whispered, tugging the sweatpants tighter on him so the bulge seemed bigger. it made him moan softly.
"yes, baby. please show me more." your voice encouraged him, making him slowly pull his pants down his legs. the black boxers looked even more strained from the close distance to the camera.
he moaned again, cupping his dick with his hand, gently rubbing it for your eyes to see, then stepped back, putting the hem of his shirt between his teeth so his abdomen was also visible when he pulled the boxers down, his cock springing free, heavy looking.
you gasped, your cheeks flushing when your hand unconsciouly squeezed your own nipple at the sight. "fuck, baekhyunie." you breathed.
"do you like it?" baekhyun smiled shyly, looking proud of the girth he possessed, his hand enveloped his length slowly, trying to coax some precum out his tip to lubricate it. you had to hold out your moan, your thighs rubbing against each other in a feeble attempt to relieve the growing ache between your legs.
"do i like it? just look at you, pup... you're so hard for me, aren't you?" you moan, sounding pleading, needing to hear it from his lips.
he chuckled sexily, sitting back down on his chest to jerk himself off slowly at the sight of your sweet expression. "when haven't i been hard for you, love? if anything, i never get hard like this for anyone else." he whispered, still blushing.
you couldn't hold back on your gasp this time, your legs automatically spreading. your left hand kept rubbing your breast through your top while your right one slipped into your shorts, making you hum. you were soaked.
baekhyun moaned from the sight, jerking himself a little bit quicker, pouting when he watched you. "ah, you look so good like that. i wish i could see your pussy wet for me." he whimpered, his cock throbbing.
that made you smile amidst your pants, "yeah baby? you wanna see it?" you teased, getting closer to the camera when you stood up. the movement made baekhyun stop his strokes to gape on his monitor, seeing your cleavage when you started pushing your shorts down. he then groaned loudly while you pulled your panties aside to reveal your wetness, the reckless thrill making your thoughts scrambled.
"fuck. you're so fucking gorgeous, baby." he rasped in desperation, grunting. "you're actually trying to kill me."
you sat back down in your chair, both of you mutually hypnotized by one another. he tried matching his movements with your fingers, slowly bucking his hips to fuck his fist. he gasped every time your cunt seeped on your thighs.
"spread your folds for me. yeah, just like that, pretty." his voice croaked, panting along the slick of his pumps, his veiny shaft angry. you tried showcasing the way your fingered yourself better to the webcam, reveling on each of his breathy moans.
"wanna see you cum, baekhyunie." you murmured, making him groan even louder, his head thrown back against the chair as his back arched, rutting ruthlessly in search of his high.
"ah, if you talk like that—!" he whimpered, body trembling with each stroke. "tell me you'd want it inside of you. you would, wouldn't you? me filling you up?" his voice broke, muscles taut.
"yes, baekhyun, please!" your voice pleaded breathlessly, already feeling your orgasm closeby, melting from the way he put his shirt between his teeth again and spilled long ropes of his release on his entire stomach. his groans were loud, triggering your own silent orgasm from the way his cock continued hard, pumping so much hot cum.
both of you fell back in your chairs, turning silent through ragged breaths. you closed your eyes, evaluating just how much power baekhyun held on you when he broke the silence. "baby, look." he whispered.
you opened your eyes to see him gather his own cum on his index and middle finger, staring straight into the webcam as he took them in his mouth, shamelessly eating his own cum. the sight made you gasp loudly, your cheeks instantly flushing.
he laughed, knowing you were already turned on again, contemplating to keep touching yourself on camera with him.
"guess your detox will only happen when i'm there to keep you away from your computer by fucking you."
↳ after dating each other for a few months, you're finally ready to take the next step. part 2 of match my freak.
↳ wc: 3.5k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | baekhyun pov. reader's first time. these two are horny and down bad for each other asf. very brief sexting/phone sex, kissing and marking, kinda body worship-y, fingering, oral (f receiving), rawwww p in v, dirty talk, edging, baek definitely has a begging kink lmao, slight dacryphilia
↳ guess who's back, back again (with a double post no less!). ty everyone for ur patience as i finished my semester and now i can get back to what matters (writing smut)! i also didn't mean to post this so early, oops something sweet and something nasty for our man's bday lmaooo. i hope yall like it but if u don't pls don't tell me omg
Some say that if you build this idea of someone in your head too high, you can only be disappointed. Those people clearly hadn’t met you.
Baekhyun’s been seeing you for a few months and he has yet to be let down. From your first date at the roller rink to now, helping you cook a three course meal for the both of you, you’ve been nothing but lovely and kind and perfect. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, waits for you to reveal some deal-breaking, relationship-ending secret, but it never comes. No, you’re just… everything he’s ever wanted and more. How could he ever have thought that he’s been in love before this moment?
He watches you stir the pot, chin in his hands like some sort of lovesick fool. You’re wearing a headband to keep your hair out of your face while you cook, giving him the ability to look at your face in its entirety: the brightness of your eyes, the curve of your lip, the shell of your ear. He admires shamelessly, not even pausing when you turn to look at him.
“Baek?”
“Hmm.”
“The salt, please?”
He snaps out of it to hand you your salt shaker, but before he does, he pulls you gently by the wrist towards him to smack an obnoxious kiss against your temple. You giggle in his grasp, and the sound is so beautiful he could have been convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven.
After dinner, he’s washing the dishes (because let’s be real— he didn’t really help you much with dinner prep) when you come up from behind and wrap your arms around his waist.
“Hi baby,” he smiles.
“Hi,” you reply shyly. “I’ve been thinking about something.” You lean the side of your cheek against his back. “Do you think I could come over and spend the weekend at your place?”
Baekhyun puts the plate he’s finished washing in the drying rack and picks up another. “Of course. But… you’ve spent the night before. Why the hesitation?”
A pause. Then…
“I think I’m ready.”
He nearly drops the plate and just barely catches it before it falls into the sink. The tips of his ears feel hot, burning hot. “Really? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” You laugh self-consciously. “I think I’ve been ready for weeks but I wanted to be 100%.”
He turns the sink off and wipes his hands on the dishrag before turning in your grasp. “And you could still think about it for as many weeks as you want. Or even change your mind, I won’t be mad.”
You smile at him mischievously, creeping your hands up the hem of his hoodie. “I won’t,” you say. Simple. Matter-of-fact. As if those two words haven’t just made all the blood in Baekhyun’s body go straight to his dick.
“Okay,” he says, trying to match your nonchalance (and failing). “Next weekend then.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You lean in and kiss him softly, and Baekhyun falls further and further and further.
Baekhyun wishes that he could say that dating you properly, seeing you every few days and talking to you daily, has somewhat curbed his need for you.
But of course it hasn’t.
He knows he hasn’t been pushy in the slightest. He’s let you take the lead, only taking the next physical step when you prompt him, happily content to take it at your pace because above all of his needs is the need to make you comfortable and happy.
But to tell the truth, you’re making it so difficult for him. He can’t prove that you’ve been doing it on purpose, but it seems that the length of your skirts have been getting shorter, the necklines of your top plunging deeper. And you just love sitting in his lap, perching on top of him so prettily like you belong there, talking about your day like Baekhyun isn’t growing harder underneath you by the second. Once or twice he’s even had to move you off of him, discreetly hiding the evidence of his arousal with a pillow.
You’re not completely oblivious. That much has been made clear since the little gift you gave him that first night, and if it hadn’t been, your intentions became increasingly apparent the night you sent him what started off as an innocent text, sometime after your second proper date.
Whatcha doing right now?
Baekhyun had just closed his eyes to go to bed, but sleep was overrated when the other option was talking to you.
Just got in bed.
You?
The next text had Baekhyun nearly choke on his own spit.
About to touch myself.
He sat straight up in bed, fingers flying over his keyboard as he frantically typed out a response.
Can I see?
The texting bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Then reappeared again. Baekhyun’s heart was thudding in his throat, his growing erection becoming painful in his sweats.
No
But you can listen
You picked up instantly, and Baekhyun’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock the second he heard your breathy, whiny moan.
“Baekhyun.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking about, baby,” he said, voice thick and needy.
“Thinkin’ about you,” you sighed, and oh god, he can hear just how wet your pussy is through the tinny phone speaker. “And what I want you to do to me.”
He talks you through it, holding back his own orgasm until you fall over the edge underneath your own fingers, your breathless gasps echoing in his head long after you hang up.
In all of the weeks that Baekhyun’s spent fantasizing about you, it never occurred to him that you would be such a tease, just as into it as he is. Somehow he had equated your lack of experience to innocence.
That, clearly, was a mistake.
The night starts as it always does when you come over to his place.
He orders some takeout and you eat it on his couch, talking away about your week. On any other day, Baekhyun would be content to listen to you for hours, but his mind is admittedly somewhere else.
“You want to shower first?” he asks. You always do.
“Uh… you go first. Wait for me afterwards, okay?”
Baekhyun tries not to give in too much to anticipation. He showers faster than he’s ever showered before, and the little smile you give him when you take his place, tightly holding your bundle of pajamas to your chest, nearly makes his knees buckle. He paces around the room as he waits, drumming his hands on his thighs, rearranging the items on his nightstand in various configurations until he gives up and leaves them as they were. The wait is borderline torture. He can hear you on the other side of the wall moving around in his bathroom, his dick nearly jumping out of his pants when he hears the shower turn off. He closes his eyes as he sits in bed, back against the headboard, nearly even tries meditating for God’s sake. Anything to calm himself down.
Finally, the door opens.
His lips part when he drinks in the sight of you, perfectly dolled up in a baby pink lingerie set that hugs your body perfectly. You smile at him, cocking your head to the side in amusement.
“Are you just gonna stare?” you tease.
“Fuck, babe.” His voice sounds rough to his own ears. “C’mere.”
It feels like an eternity watching you cross the room towards him, but you finally settle into his lap, thighs bracketing his hips, hands dragging up his chest. “Can I confess something?”
“Anything.”
You lean in to whisper close to his ear, your breath warming the side of his neck. “I’ve been wanting this for so long.”
His hands fly to your hips as he groans, fingers slightly digging into your soft skin. “Trust me. I have too.”
Kissing you is familiar territory. He lets his hands roam over your body in ways he’s never let himself do before as his lips capture yours. He draws circles into your waist, feather-light touches across your thighs, your ass. Tentatively reaching up to cup your tits. That makes you whine, hips twitching slightly on top of him, gasping into his mouth. He uses the opening to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting you.
It’s barely even been a few minutes and he already feels drunk in it, drunk in you. You lean back, the thread of saliva connecting your mouths snapping loose as you reach back to unhook your bra. The sight is so fucking erotic he thinks he could die.
The first signs of nervousness flicker across your features and your hands move to cover yourself, but no, no, no. Baekhyun won’t have any of that. He gently grabs your wrists and flips you over, settling you down onto your back.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs against your lips, pinning your wrists gently with one hand above your head, “just how perfect you are?” You wriggle underneath him self-consciously, but you let him continue. “You’re unreal. I can’t believe just how lucky I am.”
Your skin tastes so sweet as he kisses down your body, his mouth following the path that his hands trace. So much space to mark, to bite. He chooses your collarbone as his first target, sucking a harsh mark into you. You gasp sharply, hips jerking upwards.
“You like that?” he asks, soothing the mark with his tongue. It blooms a satisfying, deep red, and the sight of it fills Baekhyun with possessive need.
“Y-Yes,” you breathe. He lets go of your wrists and ducks his head down to flick his tongue against your nipple, tearing a ragged moan from your lips.
“Fuck.” You look down at him with wide eyes. “That’s– I’m so sensitive there.”
Baekhyun smirks and swirls his tongue around the bud, relishing in your soft cries. He alternates between the two until you’re writhing, hips jerking as if they have a mind of their own, your bottom lip pulled taut between your teeth.
“Please,” you whimper. “More. I need you so bad.”
Hearing you say it, as if the responses of your body weren’t evidence enough, only makes him need you that much more. Makes a sharp sting of desire pulse through his veins. He reaches down and peels off your soaked panties, stifling a groan at the sight of your pussy. “Do you finger yourself?” he asks, dipping his fingers shallowly through your folds. Fuck. His cock twitches in his sweatpants when he feels just how wet you are.
“Sometimes,” you exhale. “I don’t like it as much as just touching myself.”
Slowly, he sinks his middle finger into your tight, wet heat. “Jesus,” he mumbles. “You’re squeezing me.”
Your eyebrows are knit together, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your lips drop open in a surprised, “Oh!” as he continues to go deeper. A quiet, almost imperceptible gasp falls from your mouth when he withdraws and then thrusts it back in.
“Your fingers…” you whisper. “They’re longer than mine.”
He groans softly, leaning up to brush his lips against yours. A thrill runs down his spine and he slips a second finger inside of you, eliciting another sweet whimper from you. “If you’re falling apart like this on my fingers, are you sure you can take my cock, sweetheart?”
You gasp raggedly, hips jerking up into his touch. “I can,” you whisper frantically. “I can, promise.”
He chuckles before nipping your bottom lip. “I know you can, baby. I’m just teasing a little.” He travels lower, sucking a bruise into your inner thigh, urging you to part your legs even more for him. His mouth joins his fingers, lips sealing over your clit as he curls them inside of you.
“Shit!” Your hand flies down to grip at his hair, tugging at the strands. “Baek— Baek, oh god.” Your voice is trembling, already so ruined for him. “I’m getting close.”
His eyes flick up to meet your gaze as he laps at your clit, scissoring his fingers slightly as he tries to search for that one spot. He knows he’s found it when your thighs clamp around his head, a frantic moan spilling from your lips. He presses against it with the pads of his fingers, sucking your clit into his mouth.
Your back bows off the bed, lips falling apart almost as though you’re surprised, eyes widening. “Mmm, baby— baby, I’m cumming… fuck—”
He feels you clamp down around him as your body starts to shake. Baekhyun can’t tear his eyes away from you if he tried, watching your expression break as your orgasm overtakes you. It rolls through you with a choked whisper of his name, voice shattering over the syllables.
It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight fills him with a hunger that can’t be satisfied, won’t be satisfied, until he’s seen it again and again.
He withdraws his fingers from you slowly and brings them to your waiting, parted lips. “Taste how sweet you are,” he murmurs. He halfway doesn’t expect you to, doesn’t plan to keep them there if you hesitate for even a second, almost already pulling them away from you so that he can do it himself.
But you do it, eyes hazy with post-orgasm bliss, chest heaving, your lungs working overtime to get some air. Your tongue swirls around his fingers, licking every drop of yourself clean, taking his fingers down your throat practically to the knuckle. The sight of it—
How can he stop himself from ducking back down between your legs now?
He hooks his arms around your thighs, locking you in place as he buries his face into your heat, lapping against your slick folds like a man starved. You moan, completely uninhibited, hands twisting in his hair in a way that hurts so good. “Baek— Baekhyun, please, please, I’m so sensitive…”
“Please what?” he grunts. “You want me to stop?”
“N-No,” you say weakly.
“Then take it.”
You shudder, cumming instantly on his tongue once again. He holds you tight, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as you roll your hips onto him, practically riding his face.
“I—” you gasp for breath. “Fuck.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans up to pull off his shirt in one smooth motion, taking a second to admire you once again. Your cheeks and chest are flushed, blooming with red, lips dark and kiss-swollen, eyes unfocused. You reach up for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his thighs. His cock is leaking and achingly hard, and you look at it with anticipation.
“Are you nervous?” he asks, hovering down over you, settling in between your legs.
“A little.” Your hands settle on his shoulders, eyes meeting his. Open, trusting. “But I still want this more than anything.”
He connects his lips with yours as he starts to sink inside of you, slow, inch by devastating inch. You’re so tight, so wet that it makes him tremble, holding himself back from snapping his hips into you and ruining you. You wrap around him so perfectly that you must have been fucking made for him. He watches your face for every sign of discomfort, every minute change in your expression. “Breathe, baby,” he groans. “Fuck, relax a little more for me.”
“Trying,” you say through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby you’re so—”
He meets your gaze when your voice falters. “So… big,” you whisper.
Something in Baekhyun, something deep and primal, snaps. “Oh my God,” he all but growls, burying his head into the crook of your neck, gripping the sheets by your head to try and regain some control, some sanity, back. “Don’t say shit like that if you don’t want me to fuckin’ pound into you until you’re screaming.”
You gasp, impossibly becoming even tighter. And then…
“Who said I didn’t?”
Baekhyun buries himself the rest of the way inside of you, holding his hips flush against yours, letting you get used to the stretch for a moment. “Tell me if you need me to stop.” That’s all the warning you get before he withdraws and snaps his hips back into you, not unnecessarily harsh but strong, deep. And then again, and again.
Your head lolls back as Baekhyun grabs your waist, holding you steady as he builds up a steady rhythm. You cling to the sheets like a lifeline, twisting the fabric underneath your fingers. Your voice, which was controlled before, grows louder and louder as your moans get fucked out of you, high-pitched cries that grow needier by the second.
“Holy fuck,” you whimper, voice shaking. Broken, shattered.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending down to brush his lips against yours. “Tell me how good it feels.”
“So good,” you sob, struggling to get your words out. “Baby, ‘m close, please.”
Your begging, those sweet little sobs, only stoke that fire deep inside that much more. He wants to push you just a little, see how much you can squirm. “Hold it a little longer.”
“What?” your eyes fly open, frantic. “B-But I…”
“Just a little bit, sweetheart. Until I say.” He drives into you a little harder, sucking another bruise into your neck, swallowing your needy cries.
“Baek, mm, please!” Your eyes are brimming with tears, back arching entirely into him, as if pressing yourself against him will help you get what you want. “I-I can’t hold it, I need to cum!”
“Don’t make me stop,” he warns. “You gonna be good for me?”
Even though your orgasm threatens to spill over at any second, you still nod, tucking your quivering bottom lip in between your teeth. You’re so far gone, in too deep that all you can do is beg. “Mmm, please, please—!” you wail.
He reaches in between your legs and presses his thumb against your clit. “Cum for me,” he whispers in your ear, breath hot against your neck.
Your entire body quakes, nails digging into his shoulders as you cum, exponentially harder than you had the previous times. Tears, maybe from relief, maybe from overstimulation, slip from your eyes and leave shiny trails down your cheeks, your voice catching on a sob. He holds you through it, clenching his jaw at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, slickness pooling in between both of your bodies, rubbing circles into your side both to soothe you and to ground him against the overwhelming urge to spill inside of you again and again until you’re both spent.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, making a trail with his lips from your earlobe down to your chin. “You did so well.”
He starts to move again, hands roaming as he builds up another rhythm, squeezing your tits and your hips, guiding you to wrap your legs around him. You shiver underneath him, moaning softly, twitching from overstimulation and sensitivity. Hair sticks to your forehead and clings to your neck, damp with sweat. Your expression is broken wide open, gaze clinging to him like he’s your entire world, only making incoherent whimpers and gasps of his name.
“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers. He cups your chin in his hand and kisses you deeply. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Your legs wrap tighter around him, drawing him impossibly closer. “I– I wanna feel you cum in me.”
Baekhyun groans, a sharp sound, as though it’s been punched out of him. As soon as the possibility enters his mind, the need to do it, to mark you, claim you, is overwhelming. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Your eyes are sparkling, bright, as focused as they’ve ever been. “Cum in me, make me yours. Fill me up.”
With a final, low grunt, he pounds into you, the full force of his strength and weight behind each thrust until he cums, filling you up to the very brim. Your greedy walls suck him in, milking him for every last drop until his arms are shaking from supporting his weight. Exhausted, he collapses on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your skin.
For a few moments, there’s just silence. And then, you shift.
“You love me?”
Baekhyun looks up at you to find that you’re gazing at him earnestly, no longer clouded by lust or primal need.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Wasn’t it obvious?”
You giggle. “Maybe. But it’s still nice to hear you say it.”
“I love you,” he says, smacking a kiss against your collarbone. “I love you,” your nose, “I love you,” finally on your lips.
“I love you too,” you say. When he shifts inside of you, you wince. “Fuck, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”
“Hopefully not sore enough to go again,” he quips, dodging your smack.
“You’re sick,” you joke. “Go get something to clean us up.”
You don’t even know the half of it, he thinks, rolling over to grab some tissues. But from the way you eye him, dragging your gaze down the length of his body with thinly veiled want, already no doubt thinking about the possibilities of what tomorrow (fuck, who is he kidding, later tonight) will bring… Yeah. He thinks that maybe you do.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
sleep wears around the edges of baekhyun's eyes, nearly pulling his lids shut. he stifles a yawn against the back of his hand, mindlessly tapping through the various apps on his phone as the seconds tick down. watching, waiting. the hotel mattress underneath him is soft, practically pulling him down into the slumber that awaits him, and his body so badly wants to give in. exhaustion has been his best friend lately, clinging to him from city to city, and all he wants to do at the end of each day is to fall unceremoniously into sleep for as long as his schedule allows.
but he won't tonight.
not until.
the clock strikes midnight and his phone rings not a second later. he laughs to himself as he picks up. 'helloo?' he singsongs into the receiver, as if he isn't aware of why exactly he's receiving this call.
'happy birthday!' your voice is soft, gentle, as if even though you're so many miles away, you know how tired he is and you don't want to disturb him with any loud cheering.
'thank you, baby.' he yawns again, turning over onto his side. 'you were first again. as you always are'
'yes,' you cheer. he can picture you pumping your fist in the air and he chuckles. 'what do you have on the agenda tomorrow?'
'meetings all day. i wish i was home with you.'
'i wish you were here too, baek. can you do me a favor?'
'right now?' he whines. 'i'm so tired and it's my birthday.'
'please?'
he sighs, a faint small on his lips. 'okay, sure. anything.'
'can you open the door for me?'
his eyes fly open as he sits up straight. 'are you serious?'
you giggle. the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. 'why don't you find out?'
even though minutes ago it seemed like the most impossible thing in the world, he easily leaps out of bed and runs to the door. you stand on the other side, holding your phone up to your ear with one hand, a small cupcake in the other.
'happy birth–'
he cuts you off by wrapping his arms around you, pressing you against him. you're here, and your hair smells like the shampoo you share at home, and you're wearing his hoodie, and you're beautiful and wonderful and everything that makes baekhyun's heart skip a beat. he knows better than anyone that the flight was long, tiring, and you made that journey just to see him even though he probably won't even be able to spend that much time with you... relief and gratitude suddenly fills him, emotion rising in his throat.
'baby?' you say softly. 'are you...?'
he is.
he pulls away and quickly wipes away the tear that's fallen and takes a shaky breath. 'sorry. i'm just... i'm so happy you're here.'
you don't push - you know how hard it's been for him lately. you smile at him and press a kiss to the corner of his lips, one that he chases to kiss you properly. 'i canceled all your plans tomorrow with your manager,' you say in between kisses. 'we can do whatever you want.'
even more gratitude floods baekhyun's chest and he's able to push down another fresh wave of tears before parting from you. 'can we do nothing? i know you came all this way but i'm just so–'
you cut him off with another chaste peck. 'doing nothing sounds perfect. now come on. you can't eat this cupcake if you're crying.'
he laughs, scooching over to let you through the door. 'i didn't cry. it was the lighting, made my eyes look wet.'
'mmhmm,' you hum. 'suuure byun.'
the door clicks shut behind you, sealing the two of you off from the rest of the world, safe in your little haven for the near future.
gosh i'm so senti. happy 34th angel, please be happy and healthy always <3
Summary: All Baekhyun wanted was the perfect day out with you, his new girlfriend. Just one day…
Pairing: idol baekhyun x fem!reader
Contents: 18+ minors DNI! DO NOT read these or tags if you want to read this chapter unspoiled! No actual smut until the next chapter but the fic as a whole is meant for adults only, couple-y things, sickeningly cute moments, suggestions of sex, reader is always horny
Status: Ongoing
Author's Note: 4.8k wc - Time flies when you’re handling real life, but I’m so glad I have this little fic to come back to! You all are saints for waiting for my next upload… thanks for loving these cuties as much as I do! The next chapter after this one shouldn’t be too far behind, but I am in the middle of major life shifts, so please bear with me!
the song ~ Privacy by Baekhyun
the playlist ❤️🔥 🎧
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
You surveyed your face in the visor mirror and gasped. Your makeup was smudged and smeared like you had slept overnight without washing your face.
"Oh, wow. I look awful," you said as you swiped two fingers under your eyes in an attempt to ble nd the smudges out.
"No you don't," he giggled from the back seat. "You're always pretty!" You could see his arms flailing about in the reflection behind you. Getting dressed inside a car was proving to be more difficult than undressing had been.
"I highly doubt that, but thank you."
You rummaged in your bag for your travel case and fished out a tissue. After a long swig from your water bottle, you poured some onto the tissue and attempted to salvage your eye makeup. A few minutes later and after some much needed concealer, you ended up with the attempt at a smoky eye, but it was a vast improvement from how you looked a few minutes ago.
Baekhyun had climbed over the center console and was now back in the driver seat. He had just pulled his sock on and was trying his best to slip his shoe on in the tight space in front of him. He grunted as he struggled to lace his boots and finally opened the door for more leg room.
He, too, was now surveying himself in his visor mirror.
"You look perfect as always, my angel," you said, envying the way he just looked like that. He chuckled and waved the compliment off, as if he didn't know how beautiful he truly was.
You opened kakao maps to see if you had saved any dinner spots anywhere close to the rural area Baekhyun had driven you to.
"Oooh, baby have you ever eaten hairtail?"
"Hair… what? Let me see," he said as he leaned in to look closer. "Ahhhh, galchi! Neomu mashisso!" It's really delicious! It came as no surprise to you that he had eaten hairtail (less commonly known as as cutlassfish) considering how much he liked seafood. The yard-long fish wasn't even on your radar before researching Jeju as it wasn't found in your part of the world.
"Does that sound good to you? It's this restaurant's specialty and they do a prix fixe menu we could share." You ran your fingers through his hair, fixing the fuzzy clump that had formed on the back of his head during the epic face-sitting incident not long ago.
"Mmm, yes. Hopefully it isn't crowded. It should be early enough," he said.
"If it's too busy, we can go somewhere else. I think by the time we get there, I'll be getting hungry too." you said. "I'm not too hungry right now after the protein shake I just had." You waited for the joke to land. A few seconds ticked by in silence, then he turned to you with bemusement and shock on his face.
"Protein sh— HA HA HA!", he burst out. "Yah!!"
"There it is." You joined in as he clapped his hands once and covered his mouth as he let out an almighty laugh, alternating between wheezing and chuckling as tears formed in his eyes. "Ahhhh jjinja! Ahh, apa! Apa!" Ahhh really! Ahh, it hurts! It hurts! He clutched his stomach, dramatically wincing in pain.
He pressed his cheek into the palm of your hand that had moved to caress his face, still laughing. The puppy-like, affectionate side of Baekhyun was just as delightful as the other aspects of his personality, and you wondered if you were actually becoming a little too obsessed with him. Would you be able to function as a normal human without his constant presence? It scared you to think about it, so you distracted yourself by choosing a playlist for the drive to the restaurant as he started the engine and put the car in reverse.
"Let's go," he said, laughing still.
You and Baekhyun had so naturally fallen into a rhythm today. Things just felt right, and you couldn't exactly say why. Your chemistry was undeniable, but there was such an ease to being with him. Even when he was in the mood to tease you, he never took it too far. In fact, as you knew teasing was his love language, you felt flattered.
You continued the search for the perfect playlist to accompany the scenic drive to the restaurant on the north coast of Jeju.
"What is that song you keep humming?" You finally had to ask. It was driving you crazy. The tune felt familiar, yet you didn't think you had heard this particular melody before.
"I don't really know. It just came to me recently, and now it's stuck in my head. I don't even know if its a real song, or just a random melody."
"It's pretty. I like it," you said, still caressing the hair at the nape of his neck. "If it's just your genius brain making music, I think you should explore it more. I think you'd be brilliant at writing songs, baby. You're good at everything else."
"Yeah, I don't know. I want to. I really do. But the company never gave me the opportunity. I tried once, but… it didn't work out."
"Well," you said, "It's a good thing that you're your own boss now. No one can tell you what to do!"
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I don't think I'm good enough yet. But I'll try."
"Sing it for me again? Pleeeease," you begged.
He hummed the simple tune, and your immediate thought was that it sat perfectly within his range, not too high, and not too low, but right at the ideal notes where his voice sounded the most comfortable and effortless. The sweet notes rose and fell about half an octave, and the melody instilled playful, even flirty emotions. You didn't know how or why, but somehow it sounded very… Baekhyun.
"Baby, if this isn't a song already, it needs to be one. And it needs to be yours."
"Yeah?" He smiled sweetly as you nodded enthusiastically.
"I mean, I am a little bit biased. But as someone who has listened to you sing for many years, I stand by what I said… it sounds really great."
"Thank you. I'll try," he said, smiling playfully as he held his fist up.
***********************************
The sea was a stunning gradient of more blues than you had ever seen; the aquamarines and turquoises of the water close to the shore shifted to cerulean and a much deeper cobalt as it stretched out toward the horizon. Windmills jutted up unnaturally from the peninsula in the distance, adding a bit of whimsy to the otherwise untarnished terrain of Aewol's coastline.
You sat, rooted in place, taking time to appreciate yet another otherworldly sight on this paradise island as the click of Baekhyun's seatbelt brought you back to your body. He had just unfastened, turned the car off, gotten out of the driver's side and was now crossing your line of sight, adjusting his pants and straightening his hoodie as he made his way around to the passenger side. You snapped the shutter of your mind's imaginary camera. He was squinting in the bright sunlight, framed by the windshield with the impossibly blue water behind him and the restaurant closer in the foreground. It was a split-moment in time, too quick to get out your phone and take a real photo, but it would undoubtedly leave an indelible impression in your head. The sun, the sea, and Baekhyun.
"Wae?", he asked, smiling sheepishly as he opened the car door and held a hand out. What? You simply stared at him, a stupid, love-drunk grin on your face, his silhouette and the rays of sunlight burning the shape of him into your vision so that even when you blinked, you could still see it.
My light.
"Can't a girl admire her insanely gorgeous boyfriend?", you said.
He giggled.
Eyes slightly watering from the afternoon sun, you grabbed his hand and stepped out of the car only to fall back on your seat. You hadn't expected the wobbly, baby fawn sensation in your fatigued thighs. Face-sitting had required more fine muscle control than you were expecting.
"Come here," he laughed, grabbing both hands and yanking you upward so hard that you crashed into him, still unsure if your shaky legs could support your full weight. He held you close and as a wish granted, he kissed you hard, smashing his lips against yours, smiling and rocking you back and forth.
The parking lot was empty, but you still scanned the area to make sure no one was watching.
"Ahhhh, jota," he said with eyes still closed. Ahhh, that's nice. He inhaled deeply and let go, locked the car and grabbed your hand. "Gaja! Baegopa, nae yeo sin nim?" Let's go! Are you hungry, my goddess? He slipped his mask on, and you followed his example.
"Yes, my angel," you said as you linked your arm around his, concentrating on not falling as your thighs shuddered with each step down the steepening pavers towards the restaurant.
***************************
Galchibada, your expert restaurant pick, had a modern and industrial yet rustic vibe with its linear architecture and whitewashed wood paneled interior.
Baekhyun felt relief wash over him as there were only two other patrons and they were an elderly couple, already engrossed in their delicious-looking meal. As the hostess showed you to your table, he pulled the chair out for you, making sure you got the good view of the ocean. Plus, at this angle, he could monitor the situation. As of now, it felt relatively safe to take his mask and hat off.
After ordering the special of the day, a meal for two with hairtail as the centerpiece and accomodating side dishes, you took a few pictures and videos of the view. You were focused on your camera settings, a look of concentration on your face as you chewed on your lower lip. Ever so subtly, he aimed his phone at you and took a few photos, his chest tightening at how beautiful you looked in the natural lighting of the giant window.
"Jagi," he said in the tone of voice reserved only for his most precious people, "look at me!" You looked up at him and his finger tapped the shutter button, catching you off guard in a series of candids. Your shy smirk cracked wide into a devastatingly pretty smile he couldn't help but take more photos of. In his future moments of missing you, he would turn to this exact moment, swiping through as your smile widened after being called affectionately.
*******************************
"I think it's going to take me a long time to get used to you calling me that," you said. You could feel the blood heating your cheeks. Even after the insanely hot sex you had experienced today, it still took you by surprise that it was Baekhyun on the other end of this relationship. You wondered if the novelty would ever wear off. You didn't think so. You hoped it wouldn't.
Two servers arrived and transferred many dishes from their trays to the table, setting the unusually long fish in the center of it all. With your camera ready, you took the necessary shots, and Baekhyun as a second shooter took some b-reel footage with your phone camera.
"Oh my god," you said as the server deboning the fish laughed. It was quite impressive as he extricated the spine in one piece. He was probably used to this reaction. The tray spanned the length of the table, with the smaller dishes artfully framing it on either side.
"Ne. Masikke deuseyo," the waiter said as he bowed and walked away. Yes. Please enjoy your meal.
"Jal meoggeseumnida," you called after him. I will eat well!
"Oho! Jal haesseo!", he said as he held a thumb up and genuine approval on his face. Oho! Good job! It was your first time speaking Korean so confidently in public with him. If only you had another two weeks to spend here. Don't think about that now.
**********************************
His phone had buzzed in his pocket a few times, and only after the delicious feast did he finally check it.
Be careful. It looks like a gift shop employee recognized you today.No photos, just her saying she is almost sure it was you. Not many believe her, but I think people will be more observant nowIt would be good to lay low until you leave. I'm sorry. Hope you can still enjoy your time with her. Last thing… please check your emails when you get a chance.
He sent a short and simple reply.
Got it. Thanks.
The pit in his stomach made him feel sick. You both had worn masks in the store, thank god. That lady didn't have any photo evidence, just. knowledge of what he bought. There were probably people all over Jeju wearing the same hat. Anger swirled in his stomach. His lips pursed. Why couldn't he just have this one thing? Just for him?
"You okay, baby?" You asked him innocently but there was concern in your eyes. Of course you would notice.
"Uhh, yeah. I think I ate too much. My stomach hurts a little bit," he said. It wasn't a lie, not really.
"Me too, I'm stuffed! Want to go home?"
"Would that be okay with you? I know we had more plans, but," he trailed off.
"I'm actually getting tired and I really want a shower. It's okay." You squeezed his hand. "Today was perfect."
"Let's get out of here, then," he said with a tight smile. He slipped his mask back on and asked for the check.
***
The ride home was gorgeous despite the anxiety bubbling in his gut. The sun now hung low, transforming the bright blue sky to a spectacular display of purples and oranges, its rays shooting out from behind fluffy, cartoonish clouds. Jejudo truly was a beautiful place. He would miss it.
The house had engulfed him in safety, a haven after his skin had felt prickly outside its walls. It had felt as though thousands of eyes were trained on him until he had closed and locked the gate behind you. He was sure no one else had seen him with you, but what if? His mind raced and searched for any other times throughout the day where you could have been spotted. There was the coffee shop, but the owner had seemed oblivious. Today felt different than being on stage with so many eyes upon him, or at a schedule of some kind. This felt invasive and highly unsettling. He had someone to protect now. It wasn't just about him getting recognized in public. He could handle that. But the thought of you being identified scared him to death. It was too soon. He needed more time.
As soon as you got in the shower, he opened his laptop, almost afraid to check his email. He opened the first one sent by his manager. It contained screenshots of what appeared to be a group chat. An INB100 media manager had been tasked since the company's inception with infiltrating and monitoring what the most dedicated, obsessive, and sometimes problematic fans were saying. It was one side of this industry he hated, but it was a necessary evil. To monitor what the most perceptive and nosey people put together was important and imperative to keep one step ahead as much as possible.
An account on twitter with no profile picture and no followers had made a vague post:
"I work in a gift shop in Jejudo. Today, I think Byun Baekhyun came in with a woman and bought a hat. He had a mask on but I would know those eyes and voice anywhere. They seemed to be very familiar."
They had also posted a picture of the hat.
As of the time the screenshot was taken, the post only had a few likes and one reply:
"Why the hell would Baekhyun be buying a cheesy souvenir? Have you ever seen the way the man dresses? He wouldn't be caught dead in something like that. Delete this."
He couldn't help but huff in amusement. They weren't wrong. It was cute on you, but it's not something he would ever be seen wearing.
The next few screenshots were from a private chat:
Ummm, what the hell is this?" (The post in question was forwarded to the chat.)
There is no way. They're crazy.
We would know if he had flown to Jeju, right?
Does he have a schedule there?
He hasn't bubbled in a few days… I was actually just wondering why he's been so quiet 👀
This person just wants attention.
We should keep this quiet just in case. Don't give that post any more interactions.
If he is dating someone, I will end it all 🔪
If he IS with someone, I’m happy for him! He should be getting some ass.
Congrats to whoever is bouncing on it I guess 😔
He had to laugh at that last one. He found it oddly comforting that his fans wanted to protect him from public scrutiny. And they were right. He had been very quiet for the past several days. He took his phone out and sent a bubble message along with a photo of the sky from his rooftop garden back home. He hoped it would satisfy and divert their attention from the twitter post.
I miss you! Did you miss me? ㅎㅎ The weather has been so pretty lately, right?!
He opened twitter and refreshed the feed a few times.
Finally! I missed him so much!
My husband breathed!!
This photo can't have been taken today… It was rainy and cloudy.
There was no fooling his eris. They were too smart. He refreshed his feed again.
Baekhyunah, where have you been??
Baekhyun, did you eat today?
He swiped back to bubble.
I've been so busy! ㅠㅠ BUT! You will see me very soon!!!!
The responses flooded in:
WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
I want to see you NOW!
Baekhyunah you can't do this to me!!
He loved it when his eris got all needy and demanding. They never failed to lift his spirits. He wondered if they would still love him if they knew he had a girlfriend. He would undoubtedly lose a fraction of his fan base, but how large that fraction would be, he had no clue. Some day, he would have to tell them. He had to prepare himself better for the inevitability of being discovered. He would have to be more careful. He made a promise to protect you no matter what.
He was debating on telling you about the Twitter post when you emerged fresh from your shower. Your hair was wrapped up in a towel like a turban, and the large t-shirt he had given you that first night covered you from shoulders to mid-thigh. God, you looked sexy in his clothes and he couldn't help but stare as you sat down next to him on the bed and collapsed back with a big sigh.
"That might be the best shower I've ever had," you said dreamily. Your eyes shut softly and your hands rested over your head in a pose of utter relaxation.
"Feel better, pretty?"
"Mmhmm." Your eyes remained closed and you were already far off, perhaps slipping into the space between.
Her profile. My girl.
"I think I will take a shower too. We made a mess earlier, didn't we?", he said.
"Hmph," you laughed with the little energy left in your body.
"Gatta olge," he said sweetly in your ear. I'll go now and come back.
A dreamy smile played across your lips but you made no sound.
********************
Somewhere off in the distance you could your hear your phone buzzing with incessant notifications. You could have sworn you fell asleep, but it couldn't have been that long considering that you could still hear the shower running. Baekhyun was humming the tune that had been stuck in his head, and this time, he added a bit more to the end of it.
* buzz *
You tried to ignore it, focusing on his voice coming softly from the shower, but curiosity got the better of you and you got up to retrieve your exploding phone.
"He bubbled?!" You said it out loud, delighted that you still got the same thrill getting the notification even though he was your boyfriend. CRAZY.
You sent him a bubble message back, wondering if he would actually see it. You made a mental note to have him show you how the app worked on the his end. You were always so curious to see what he saw when thousands of people were messaging him at once.
Switching to twitter, you wondered what the fans were saying about his messages.
Nothing but the usual missing Baekhyun posts on your timeline. The source of your phone blowing up must have come from one of your group chats.
"Let's see… what are my BBHL girlies saying?" You opened the chat and were met with words you couldn't quite process. And there it was. The hat. Your hat. What the HELL?!
A mutual friend with connections to the Korean side of Twitter assured the chat that they were trying to keep the rumor squashed, and your friends agreed to keep it all hushed at least from your group.
Icy dread traveled to your nerve endings, your spine tingling as you sat up straight, trying to make sense of what you were reading. The cashier at the gift shop. His weird behavior as you left the shop. His slightly unnerved energy earlier in the day… It was all adding up. You frantically read through the chat, your heart in your throat and guilt settling in your stomach like a rock.
This was your fault. Thank god she didn't get a picture of him. With you. He had already taken too many chances being out with you all day. Your mind was racing, planning for the next few days until you had to fly home. Did he already know? Why did he send those bubble messages and the photo from a few days ago? Or was it just a coincidence?
You heard the shower lever squeak closed and the water stop flowing. Baekhyun was finished with his shower and you would have to pretend like nothing was wrong. At least the fans who knew about the post were protecting his privacy, or didn't believe it themselves. You prayed the post wouldn't be discovered and blow up overnight.
Your jaw dropped as he walked in from the bathroom wearing a towel slung low on his hips, the subtle V line pointing down beneath the towel practically inviting you to "lick here". He rubbed a smaller towel across his hair and smiled at your expression.
"Did you have a nice nap?" Your mouth still hung open. "Waeeee," he said in the cutest tone you had ever heard.
Fucking hell.
You wanted to squeal and kick your feet and swallow him whole.
"Baby. Come here," you said, opening your arms and legs for him to join you. "I need you to get on top of me now." Make me feel like a pressed flower in a book.
He giggled and obliged, kneeling down and crawling over you so that the length of his thigh was exposed where his towel parted. FUCK ME SIDEWAYS.
"Aigoo, aigoo," he said as he settled down on your body, his full weight pressing you down an inch or so into the mattress, making you almost forget about the alarming and unsettling news you had just seen online. His head rested on your chest and his arms pressed into you from both sides, his warm hands hooked on your shoulders.
"Thank you for today," you said after a few moments. His hair was creating a damp spot on your chest but you never cared less. "I'll never forget it, baby. It was perfect." Well, almost perfect. There is the whole almost getting caught in a dating scandal thing. Guilt nagged at you again. His career could have been jeopardized.
"It was so refreshing. I love being with you, holding your hand… it felt so nice, right?"
With your eyes closed, you absentmindedly played with his hair as those mental snapshots so vividly flashed in reverse — Baekhyun framed by the windshield with the sea and the windmills in the background, the look of ecstasy on his face as you swallowed him up, the look he gave you in the cute cafe, the gift shop. Oh god, the gift shop. How would you tell him? How could you not?
Your heart rate picked up and your breath quickened as you gathered up the resolve to tell him what you had seen. Would he be angry? Annoyed? You didn't think you could handle him being upset, even indirectly, with you.
His head popped up and he met your eyes. His smile melted into concern as your eyes began to water.
No. Stop it.
Why did you always have to cry? In times like these, you wished you could be strong and reassuring, but you felt it all at once, and the emotions were spilling over regardless of your desire to hold it back like he was so good at doing.
"Gwaenchana?" Are you okay? His eyes darted back and forth as you blinked your tears back, resolving to tell him the unsettling news. "What's wrong, pretty?"
"I— I saw something very concerning in one of my group chats just now… I'm so sorry, baby—" The tears were welling up again and your voice shook as you tried to speak.
"Is it about the hat? The woman in the gift shop? I know." His soft smile eased your worry slightly, and the relief that he didn't appear upset or angry was enough to calm your nerves a bit. "I didn't want you to find out. My manager thinks it's okay, but we are going to have to be extra careful until we leave. I'm sorry, y/n. It was supposed to be the perfect birthday trip… this happens to me all the time, but it's too soon to be—"
"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't trade this experience with you for anything in the entire world, Baek. I don't care what we do, as long as you're here with me. I just felt so scared… what could have happened. How close we were to being found out. And I was afraid you would be upset."
"Me too. I didn't want you to worry or be scared. But, y/n… you have to understand. I have loved every second we have had together," he said. "I don't regret coming here."
You nodded and exhaled deeply.
"Can you tell me what your group chat is saying? I want to tell my manager about it just in case."
You opened the chat and read aloud every message that pertained to the rumor.
"Yeah, I think it's okay. Don't worry too much," he said and kissed you on the nose, then the cheek, then the other cheek.
"But what if more people see it? And what if you're spotted at the airport?"
"Then I'll make something up. There are plenty of good reasons why I could be in Jejudo." He kissed the spot under your ear and your breath quickened, but you weren't done yet.
"I guess we will have to lay super low then, you know, until we have to leave," you said. It had been a very close call, but right now, with a barely clothed Baekhyun on top of you and kissing you, your worries were fading fast. "I can think of a few things we could do instead of going out."
"Mmmhmmm," he hummed as he continued his soft kisses along your neck. Tingles spread from the spots he kissed, and blood flowed to the areas where his body weight pressed into you.
"We still haven't used the swimming pool," he suggested innocently.
Thoughts of long, drawn-out kisses and your legs wrapped around him as his hands cradled your ass swam around in your imagination.
"Very true. Although I just washed my hair," you teased.
"I'll wash it again for you after we are done," he replied. You lingered on the thought of him massaging shampoo into your hair, and at the endless intimate moments you were lucky enough to share with him.
"Then I'll wash yours too. Make it even ."
"Mmm…" he rasped.
"This is so comfy. I could just stay like this forever." He had rested his head on your chest again. Your eyes closed as you reveled in the way his body had melted on top of you, keeping you still and held in place, unable to move even if you wanted to. There was nothing rushed about tonight. The time for mind-blowing sex would come, but how could you ever want to rush past the moment when Baekhyun was right here, like this?
"Me too," he said lazily. You felt the pace of his breaths slow and become more rhythmic. In. Out. He truly was like a puppy, able to fall asleep anywhere he felt safe. It was the best feeling in the world.
Thanks so much for reading!! Chapter 21 is sure to be interesting 🫢
Tag list (please lmk if you’d like to be added for the next chapter upload!):
babe i’ve been here for years and haven’t seen exoblr growing.. where are those new ppl? 🥹
omg hi angel!! from all ive seen lately, new exo fics have been posted but multistans and some news faces around here! i haven't had the time to read all of them, but be sure i'll be reblogging those i see like our other beautiful exoblr writers!
hi my angel followers!!! I feel like i havent really come online to talk to everyone and im so sorry about that 💔💔 I havent been able to write lately, and I feel guilty to come online without something to share with you. I promise to be back whenever I can 🩷🩷🩷
on another note, im just SO HAPPY to see that our exoblr community is GROWING?? its so awesome to see so many new stories and authors emerge! I see all of you, and im dying to read and share all your stories. please everyone continue to be creative!!! I love yall!!
↳ synopsis: you and your husband are looking for a third participant in the bedroom. enter baekhyun — the adorably awkward, innocent, younger man you meet one night at a bar.
↳ wc: 8.3k of almost pure smut
↳ contents: Junmyeon x f!reader x Baekhyun | smut (MDNI) | husband!Junmyeon, younger!Baekhyun; jm and reader have an open relationship | kinda mean dom!junmyeon, switch/subby!reader, subish!baekhyun, masturbation (m solo), fingering, oral (everyone receiving yay!), facetime sex, dirrrttty talkin, degradation, praise, raw p in v threesome sex (eiffel tower sil vout plait), a bit of edging, dacryphilia, face fucking, cum eating (like… a lot of it lowkey), *jm and bh do interact sexually
↳ a/n: jesus christ. if you've been here for a minute you know that i first mentioned this fic in the beginning of november and was supposed to post it by the end of that month. well... i got stuck several times and it also spiraled out of control (believe it or not this was supposed to be like 3k words and now it's this... what is wrong with me!!!) i also want to preface by saying i don't have any personal experience with open relationships so this is probably an inaccurate portrayal. pretty freaky for my standards i'm like almost embarrassed omg... hope you enjoy, minors go away this is pure filth
Baekhyun doesn’t know what he’s doing here.
He’s slightly underdressed, even in his black slacks and light brown sweater. All around him are glamorous women in cocktail dresses, hair pinned up high with perfectly curled pieces framing perfectly made up faces. Every man dons a blazer, expensive watches adorning their wrists. There’s a mirror perfectly situated behind the bar that Baekhyun can see his own reflection in, and he grimaces at just how young he looks. Out of place, with his wire-frame glasses and disheveled hair, a far cry from the general aura of sophistication that surrounds him on all sides.
He tries to shake the feelings of inadequacy out of his head and does what he came here to do: drink. He almost recoils on instinct when the alcohol touches his tongue. It’s sharp and bitter, and burns on the way down. I thought expensive alcohol wasn’t supposed to go down easily.
He’s just about to call it a failure of a night out and retreat back home, back to his shithole apartment where he wouldn’t be the youngest person in the room by about five years, when someone clears their throat behind him.
“Is this seat taken?”
He turns, and his jaw nearly drops. And that’s when he meets you. You, with your perfect hair and perfect face, the dark emerald fabric of your dress draping elegantly over your body like it was tailor-made for you. Even your nails are perfect: perfectly filed ovals with a shiny, clear coat.
“No. You can sit.”
You sit on the stool next to him, waving slightly to get the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have a vodka soda, please. And…” you turn to him expectantly, eyebrow raising.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen, an embarrassing heat passing over his face. “Oh, I’m okay. Thank you.” Inside, he wants to die. Should he have offered to buy you a drink? Wouldn’t that come off as presumptuous, though? Who is he kidding, there’s no way in hell that a woman like you would —
You’ve just said your name, and now you’re looking at him with that expectant eye again.
“I’m Baekhyun,” he manages to sputter out. Good going, Baek, at least you can do one thing right.
“Baekhyun,” you say, smiling. His name sounds like magic coming off of your lips. “You’re very cute.”
Baekhyun clears his throat, staring so hard at the glass in his hand that he thinks it might just explode. “Thank you. You’re beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen you here before,” you say, taking your drink off the bar counter when it arrives. “Is this your first time?”
He nods. “My labmate recommended this place to me. He forgot to mention that it’s way fancier than the usual places we go too.” He laughs, a little self-consciously.
“Labmate? Are you a scientist or a student?” you ask.
“Student. Third-year PhD.”
“So you’re basically a scientist.” Baekhyun gulps when you take a sip of your drink, leaving a dark red lipstick stain on the rim of your glass. “Do you like it?”
“Most of the time. Not right now.” Suddenly, the events of the last few days come flooding back, and his shoulders start to tense automatically. “It’s always rough this time of year. There’s a lot of deadlines and such, plus this is my first semester teaching so it’s been hard adjusting to all the grading and having to be on in front of a room of eighteen year olds all the time. And…”
“And?” you prompt.
Baekhyun sighs. “I just got dumped last week. We weren’t together very long but you know, it still stings. So yeah. It’s been a lot.”
You frown, reaching out to put your hand on top of his. Your hand is cold, and he nearly jerks away at the touch. “I’m so sorry. It’s their loss.”
“But it’s okay. I feel like I’m ready to move on.”
You stare at him for a second, and the weight of what he’s just admitted settles onto him like an anvil. Baekhyun wonders if walking out of this bar and into oncoming traffic would be a faster and more painless death than whatever humiliation ritual this is. But then you giggle, covering your mouth with the back of your hand.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you but… I’m just laughing because, why did you feel like you needed to tell me that?”
Now Baekhyun feels the tips of his ears turning bright red, and he pointedly avoids looking into the mirror because he knows that he would just collapse into a puddle if he saw his own flustered expression right now. “Well, because, I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t attracted to you.”
You lean in, close enough for Baekhyun to smell your perfume coming off of your neck. Something sweet and dainty, but with a darker musk underneath it. He has a feeling that he’ll be trying to remember this scent all night. “Are you attracted to me, Baekhyunnie?”
Baekhyun swallows, the nickname sending all sorts of confusing feelings swirling around in his gut. “Yes,” he breathes.
“I’m glad,” you say. “I’m really attracted to you too. Are you done with your drink? Wanna get out of here?”
The night air is chilly, and Baekhyun wishes that he had a jacket to offer you, but any sort of self-conscious thought vanishes from his head when you press him against the exterior brick wall of the bar. Your hands are light, delicate on his chest, sliding up slowly to wrap around the back of his neck. You look at him through your lashes, the streetlight casting your features in a soft glow.
“Kiss me,” you say softly, your heady gaze drifting down to his lips.
And how could he deny your request?
His hands rest on your lower back, holding you close to him as he meets your lips, kissing you gently. The alcohol on your mouth tastes sweeter on you, an addicting taste that he can’t get enough of. You slip your tongue inside his mouth, and he has to stop his knees from buckling beneath him, suddenly dizzy with want. He’s surrounded on all sides by your touch, your scent, your taste, and it makes him nearly melt.
He nearly has to pull away to compose himself when you moan softly against his lips, a noise so faint and so sweet that he thinks he might have imagined it. But then you press yourself against him before making that sound again, and Baekhyun thinks he might just die from how fast his blood is pumping straight to his cock.
You pull away, lipstick smeared at the corner of your mouth, grinning at him, breathlessly. “I like you,” you exhale.
He’s about to respond with something probably incredibly stupid and way too soon when a sleek black car pulls up behind you and stops. “Ah, he’s early,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear. A man steps out of the driver’s side and steps onto the sidewalk to greet you. He’s incredibly handsome, one of those faces you only see on billboards and magazines. He’s dressed casually, but he still looks so expensive in an effortless way.
“Baekhyun, this is Junmyeon,” you say, and Baekhyun’s stomach drops in horror when he wraps an arm around your waist familiarly. Too familiarly. “My husband.”
The times throughout the night that Baekhyun wishes that the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole don’t compare in the slightest to the feeling he has right now.
“H-Husband?!” he squeaks. “But we… I…” He looks from you, to Junmyeon, then back to you.
“It’s okay, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says. God, even his voice is handsome. “We’re in an open marriage.”
His face must still be frozen in an expression of utter shock, because you cut in, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring this on you. I was going to tell you before he got here, but someone wasn’t supposed to arrive for another fifteen minutes.”
“Dinner ended earlier than expected, I’m sorry, darling.” Junmyeon kisses your temple, and a hot feeling of… something floods Baekhyun’s stomach. Is it jealousy? Discomfort?
Arousal?
“So, what, do you want me to be your third or something?” Baekhyun asks. His tongue feels a bit like lead, sitting heavy in his mouth.
“If you want,” you say. “But it can be just us, if you’d prefer.” Your cheeks are dusted with pink, and Baekhyun realizes suddenly that you’re flustered too. “Our arrangement is flexible. I wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with, so if you’d rather Junmyeon not be there, it’s totally okay.”
“Honest, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon chimes in. “We’ve had a lot of time to sort out our feelings about doing this. And if you’d rather just forget this ever happened, that’s fine too.”
Baekhyun feels like his head might explode. “Can I think about it? I’ve never… I’ve never done anything even remotely like this before.” Part of him thinks that this is just too bizarre for him. He can count the amount of partners he’s had on one hand, and he nearly combusted just fucking kissing you. How would he be able to handle being with you… with both of you?
But part of him looks at the pair in front of him and flashes of the possibility flit through his mind. It’s enough to ignite a low heat deep within him.
“Sure.” You hand him your phone and he types his number in with shaky hands. “And Baekhyun,” you whisper. “It really is okay if I don’t hear from you again, but…” You learn forward, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I hope I do.”
He refuses a ride home from Junmyeon, claiming (and lying) that his apartment is just around the corner. When he finally steps through his front door, he looks at his reflection in the hallway mirror. Your lipstick is smeared all over his lips, and a perfect outline of your kiss is stamped on his right cheek.
It doesn’t take long for him to shuck off his slacks and boxers, nearly tripping on them on the way to his bed, cock already throbbing and angry. As he jerks himself off, grip so hard that it nearly hurts, he pulls the neckline of his sweater over his nose, the faint notes of your perfume still lingering there. He gets off to the thought of you, to the memory of your body pressed against his, the taste of your lips. But also things that might be in your future: him settling between your thighs, making you cum on his tongue. Hearing your sweet voice cry out as you shake. But what finally tips him over the edge is a flitting, fleeting image of you, mouth stuffed full of cock— not his, someone else’s— while he fucks you, muffled moans spilling out as you cum around him.
His hips rock into his fist as his cum spills over his knuckles, and it isn’t until after he’s cleaned himself up that the guilt from jerking off to a married woman settles in.
Junmyeon, for the few brief moments that Baekhyun had met him, doesn’t seem like he’s harboring any ill will towards him. If anything, if Baekhyun allows himself the delusion for one second, he might have looked at him with… curiosity. Interest, even. The thought of it sends a confusing, hot feeling through Baekhyun’s stomach, his spent cock twitching with mild interest.
His phone chimes in his hand and breaks through his thoughts. He opens the notification to see a text from an unknown number.
no pressure, but junmyeon likes you too :)
goodnight baekhyunnie <3
“You like him,” is the first thing Junmyeon says to you when you climb into the car.
“Isn’t he a cutie?” you ask, turning in your seat to look back at Baekhyun. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, your lipstick smeared on his face, staring dumbfoundedly at the car.
Junmyeon agrees. It really had been an accident: he was meant to pick you up later, but Minseok had to deal with a late-night office emergency, leaving him with nothing to do. When he pulled up, he saw Baekhyun’s flushed cheeks, his glasses hanging low on his nose, permed dark hair unruly and mussed. But Junmyeon doesn’t want you to know just how eager he himself is with your new choice of a partner, so instead of any affirmation, he says, “A little young, no?”
You tsk your tongue at him. “Barely. He’s in his mid-twenties. You act like being thirty is a crime.” You fall silent for a while, before saying, “So you don’t think he’s cute?”
“When did I say that?” he replies, staring straight at the road ahead.
“I knew it!” you grin. “He’s exactly your type, right? When I saw him I thought that you’d really like him.”
“Hey now, don’t get too excited. Let Baekhyun decide how he wants this to continue and with whom.”
The final interaction between the three of you was hard to read, but Junmyeon fears it’s taken a turn for the worst when you don’t hear from Baekhyun for a week. He can see that it’s affecting you, even though you try to hide it. The way you jump each time your phone gets a notification, only to put it back down with a slight frown.
“I won’t be mad if you’re disappointed, sweetheart,” Junmyeon says, plopping down next to you on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. He chuckles when you open your mouth, obediently feeding you a few kernels.
“I don’t know why I’m being like this,” you groan, tucking your face into his shoulder. “We’ve had people ghost us all the time. It never mattered.”
“I think you have a little crush,” Junmyeon teases.
You whine petulantly, hiding your face from him. “Stop, Myeon.”
“It’s so adorable. Reminds me of when we first met. When you kept ‘running into me’ on campus only to get so shy when I finally asked you about it.” He has to kiss away your pouts before the movie starts.
Even though your crush on Baekhyun is extremely evident, as plain to see as the fact that the sky is blue, Junmyeon doesn’t feel an ounce of worry. Your relationship has been open for longer than it’s been exclusive, and any sort of bumps in the road have been sorted out years ago. At the core of your arrangement is a deep mutual love and respect for each other, and the expectation to communicate thoroughly. He has never been threatened by your feelings for a third partner, and you’ve never felt any ill will towards any of Junmyeon’s feelings for partners past.
Another week passes, and Junmyeon is starting to think that it’s time to give up hope when you come out of the bathroom, freshly showered, with a wide grin stretched over your face. “Junmyeon, look!” you squeal before running over to where he’s sitting in bed. You give him your phone and he scrolls through the text chain with Baekhyun.
Hi! I’ve been thinking a lot about everything and I think I’m ready
I do want to do this I think
But I’m pretty inexperienced haha so I’m nervous…
Hi Baekhyun!
I’m sososo happy to hear this
No need to be nervous I’ll be nice ;)
Just me? Or Junmyeon too?
Both of you
Omg I can’t believe I just sent that
Yeah both of you
“When can he come over? We should probably all have a discussion first, right? Ah, we have to clean the house,” you babble.
Junmyeon laughs, urging you to straddle his lap. He gives you a chaste peck on the lips, his hands settling onto your waist. “You’re so cute when you’re excited,” he says.
“You wanna feel how excited I am?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. Your fingers go to undo the tie of your robe, the cloth slipping off of your shoulders and down your back, exposing your body to him.
Junmyeon sighs softly, reaching out to cup your tits, then dragging his hands down your stomach and dipping his middle finger through your folds. “Oh, baby you’re soaked,” he coos, catching your lips in another kiss. He pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, your gasp heading straight to his cock, slowly twitching to life. “Your little boytoy’s got you all riled up, hm?”
“It’s not just that,” you say, slowly grinding your hips onto his hand. “It’s the thought of having both of you together.”
“Greedy,” he murmurs. He pulls his fingers out of you and lays you on your back, hovering on top of you. “What do you want us to do to you?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” you reply, whining when Junmyeon’s mouth descends to your tits, catching a nipple in between his lips. “I want… ah… I just want him to have a good time.”
Junmyeon reaches over to your nightstand and hands you your phone before continuing his path down towards your core, nudging your legs apart. “Why don’t you ask him what he wants?”
“Hmm?” you ask, your gaze flicking towards your phone. “What do you mean?”
“I mean call him,” he replies, licking a stripe up your slit. “Right now.”
You mutter a curse under your breath, but you obey all the same, shaky fingers tapping on your phone’s screen. A flicker of satisfaction and pride blooms in Junmyeon’s chest. He knows how you’ve presented yourself to Baekhyun thus far: an untouchable goddess, the charmer who had him pressed against the wall within minutes. While all of these things about you are undoubtedly true, he has yet to see you the way that Junmyeon loves to have you: stuttering over your words, legs shaking, mind going blank with pleasure.
“Hi, Baekhyun,” you say, pressing your phone to your ear, and oh the strain in your voice is so fucking cute. Junmyeon taps on your thigh and makes a gesture towards his face before he buries his tongue in your folds. Eyes on me.
“Oh, nothing.” You suck in a breath through your nose, your hand reaching out to bury your fingers in his hair. “I just wanted to know what you wanted Junmyeon and I to do to you.”
Junmyeon can picture his reaction — dark eyes going wide, a fiery blush rushing to his cheeks. Maybe even dropping his phone in surprise. Your thighs twitch around his head as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, hips jerking when Junmyeon flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit.
“Don’t be shy, baby,” you purr. “Tell us what you want, and we’ll make it happen. Pinky promise.”
Junmyeon slips two fingers into you and you stifle a gasp, your fingers abandoning his head and twisting into the sheets. He’s got you right where he wants you, just right on the edge of complete surrender. But you’re nothing if not stubborn. “I bet you want us to decide, hmm?” you say, your voice shaking but determined. “I bet you just want us to have you how we want it, just take whatever we want from you? Position you however we want?”
His cock twitches with interest underneath his pajama pants. Goddamn, you’re good. He can only imagine how Baekhyun’s taking it on the other end.
“Are you touching yourself, Baekhyunnie?” you whisper. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. Your pussy is squeezing around his fingers, and Junmyeon’s doubtful that the sounds of your wetness aren’t audible on the other end. You’re so close, he can feel it. “Me?” you ask, your eyes flying open to shoot Junmyeon a silent question. “Not quite,” you reply, taking the phone away from your ear. Junmyeon sees your thumb hovering over the FaceTime button. He nods at you, sucking your clit with renewed determination. “Wanna see?”
The FaceTime audio chimes, and Baekhyun gasps. “Oh, fuck,” he groans.
“Hi, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says, curling his fingers inside of you. You moan, finally able to let your noises flow uninhibited. “This one was so excited to hear that you wanted us both that she got so wet and needy. Did you know that you had that effect on her?”
“No,” he breathes. The angle makes it a little hard to see, but Junmyeon is able to make out Baekhyun laying in bed, shirtless, the camera shaking slightly.
“Well, you do,” he replies, “She’s soaking all over my fingers. She wants to cum so bad, I can feel it. Baby, tell Baekhyunnie just how badly you want to cum.”
“I want it, I want it,” you whine, arching your hips into Junmyeon’s waiting mouth. “It feels so good.”
“Do you think she should?” His thumb passes over your clit, sending another shockwave of pleasure through your body.
“I-I don’t know.” The flush on Baekhyun’s cheeks is apparent even in the darkness of his room.
“Please Baekhyun.” Your voice goes all breathy, and you give those eyes, that look that’s pushed Junmyeon over the edge countless times, to the camera. “I want to cum. Please let me cum for you.”
“Oh my fucking God,” he swears. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Cum for me.”
Your back arches off the bed, a loud cry leaving your lips. “Fuck, Baekhyunnie—” Your phone slips from your grasp and Junmyeon reaches up to grab it, flipping the camera so that Baekhyun has a perfect view of your folds, reddened and slick with Junmyeon’s spit and your cum.
“Isn’t she perfect?” Junmyeon hums, slowly dragging the pad of his thumb over your sensitive clit, making your thighs twitch. “All for you.”
“And you too,” you say weakly. “Both of you.”
“Will you fuck her for me?” Baekhyun asks, voice raspy and thick with arousal.
Junmyeon swallows, nodding slowly. It takes some maneuvering, but he positions you and the camera perfectly: your phone propped up on the nightstand and you on your elbows and knees, facing the camera. Baekhyun’s done some adjusting too and now you and Junmyeon are faced with the image of the younger man with his sweatpants pulled down to his thighs, his needy, pink cock curved against his stomach. One hand is wrapped around the base, squeezing himself lightly.
You’re needy, already pushing your hips back into Junmyeon’s touch the second his hands make contact with your hips. Your back is arched so prettily, sticking your ass up invitingly. Putting on a show, Junmyeon realizes.
“I didn’t think you’d be so…” Baekhyun trails off.
“Submissive?” Junmyeon supplies, slowly pushing the tip of his cock inside of you. You clench around him, already mewling for more. “If there’s one thing she likes more than finding pretty things like you, it’s begging.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Baekhyun asks, just a ghost of a playful tone underneath the lust in his voice.
“Of course I do, Baekhyun.” Junmyeon flicks his gaze up to the phone to admire the image of him. “You’re the prettiest yet.”
“Stop talking,” you whine. “Fuck me.”
Junmyeon raises his hand and smacks your ass, relishing in your pretty gasp before driving into you hard. Your mouth falls open, your head dropping onto the pillow in front of you, already falling apart so pretty for him. He’ll never get tired of this, those first moments when he enters you when you have to adjust to his considerable length, surprised as if this was the first time he’s fucked you. But Junmyeon also likes what comes next the best, when you snap back into reality, into this moment, and get lost in the throes of your own pleasure.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up, making you arch so good for him but also allowing Baekhyun to see your face. The younger man groans, jerking himself off slowly, eyes wide and transfixed on the view in front of him.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Baekhyun breathes. He pants lightly, hips jerking into the tight circle of his hand. “Fuck, I need you.”
“I— I need you too,” you whimper. Junmyeon can see your fucked out expression in the camera, your wide, glassy, needy eyes. “Want to suck Junmyeon off while you fuck me.”
Junmyeon groans, digging the tips of his fingers into your hips. “Jesus, baby.”
“It would be so good,” you whine, looking back at him over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes so invitingly. “Both of you just holding me there and making me take it. Making me your fucktoy.”
With a loud growl, Junmyeon buries your face in the covers with one hand on the back of your head, driving into you with brutal force. The wet sounds of your pussy are absolutely obscene, married with the slick sounds of Baekhyun’s hand sliding over his cock over the speaker. “Such a greedy little slut,” he mutters. “Begging for two cocks like this so shamelessly.”
“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Baekhyun says suddenly, voice thick with desperation. He bites his bottom lip and tips his head forward, eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of sensation.
“With her, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon commands, snaking a hand between your legs to circle your swollen clit. You look up from your position to lock eyes with Baekhyun’s image as your orgasm hits you, shaking and trembling.
Your walls constrict around him so perfectly that it doesn’t take much time at all for Junmyeon to spill inside of you too, holding your hips flush against his. You sigh happily, arching into it subconsciously in that way you do that has spurred on round two countless amounts of times. But tonight isn’t the night for that, Junmyeon thinks as he looks up at the phone. Baekhyun pants, catching his breath, ropes of cum spilled out onto his stomach.
“So good, baby,” you say dazedly.
Baekhyun shivers. “You two are insane.”
“Why don’t you come over sometime soon and we’ll show you how insane it can really get?” Junmyeon asks.
Baekhyun’s tongue darts out to lick at his lips nervously. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll text you guys when I’m free next.”
“Sounds good,” you giggle. “Goodnight, Baekhyunnie. Dream of us.”
“Bye,” Baekhyun replies, and the last thing Junmyeon and you see before the call ends is his flustered, blushing face.
It takes about a week for Baekhyun to text you back.
At first, you think you’ve scared him off. Maybe the whole FaceTime thing was coming on way too strong.
“It seemed like he enjoyed it though,” Junmyeon frowns, stroking your hair while you lay your head in his lap.
“He can enjoy it and still change his mind,” you sigh. “It’s probably a lot for him.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. He’ll come when he’s ready.”
Of course, you’re overthinking it, and Junmyeon’s right (which happens more often than you’d like to admit). Baekhyun texts late on a Thursday night, your phone pinging mere moments before you were about to fall asleep.
I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to ghost
Things just got so crazy with school
But I’m free this whole weekend!
Yay!! :))
But oh no that sounds stressful
Yeah it’s been pretty hectic haha
But some stress relief would be nice
I think we know how to help with that
You decide on spending the weekend at your house, assuring Baekhyun that he could leave before that if he wanted and the two of you wouldn’t be upset with him. All day you feel like a tornado around your place, cleaning up things that you would normally never think to keep clean, like the back of the fridge, or underneath the couch cushions. Junmyeon watches you with an amused eye, but he scrubs every inch of the bathtub just the same.
Evening rolls around and you’re in the middle of plating dinner when there’s a knock at your door. “I got it,” Junmyeon jumps off the couch a bit too eagerly and towards the front door. You check your reflection in the mirror one last time before you hear them rounding the corner, talking softly amongst themselves.
Baekhyun looks so cute, wearing a nice cream sweater and jeans, his glasses sliding low on his nose. His hair looks so fluffy and he runs a hand through it self-consciously, his other hand fiddling with the strap of his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “You have a beautiful house,” he says warmly, though the small anxious habits give him away: he’s nervous.
“Thank you.” You beam at him and wipe your hands on the kitchen towel before going to give him a friendly hug, kissing him briefly on the cheek. “And thank you for coming, Baekhyun. It means a lot to me. To us. Junmyeon will show you where you can put your stuff.”
Dinner is about as normal as it could be under these circumstances. In the past, you’ve had guests who just wanted to skip past the whole formality and just go straight to the bedroom, and others still have been too nervous to even get through dinner, making up an excuse to end everything early. Baekhyun, to your relief, is neither of those things. He actually seems much more relaxed here than he had at the bar, his chatting growing more and more animated as dinner goes on.
Junmyeon clears the dishes away, leaving the two of you at the table. “I just want to thank you again for giving us a chance,” you say softly.
Baekhyun smiles, blushing into his wine glass. “I really should be the one thanking you. I never would have thought that I would be able to do anything like this.”
“What do you mean?”
Baekhyun laughs, making a vague gesture with his hands. “I mean, look at all this. Look at you. Look at Junmyeon. And then look at me.”
“I’m looking.”
Both of you turn your heads towards Junmyeon, who neither of you realized has re-entered the room. You recognize that look in your husband’s eyes: sharp, perceptive.
Hungry.
He crosses the room towards Baekhyun and lets a hand trail across the back of his shoulders, before taking his previous seat between the two of you. “I’m looking, and all I see is someone that we’re both interested in. So there’s no reason for you to be self-conscious about anything.”
Baekhyun swallows, nods. Fidgets with the edge of the tablecloth for a second before settling his hands in his lap. You lean forward and rest your chin in your hands, tilting your head at the younger man.
“Bedroom?”
He follows the two of you silently, the air between you thick with anticipation. The bedroom door clicks shut behind you with an air of finality, sounding much too loud in the silent room. Baekhyun watches intently as you fall into Junmyeon’s embrace, leaning into him. He kisses you, slipping his tongue past your lips with a quiet determination, the way he knows you liked to be kissed.
Blindly, you reach out a hand to your side and wrap it around Baekhyun’s wrist, pulling him in closer to you. You move your head to the side and kiss him too, cupping the side of his face with your hand. His kisses are softer, less practiced, but oh so sweet. He exhales through his nose when you deepen the kiss, moaning softly when you run your fingers through his hair.
You turn your attention firmly towards him, pulling his sweater over his head while Junmyeon steps behind you to unzip your dress. You drink in his image: broad, broad shoulders and the lean muscle of his chest, down to the softness of his stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” you say, running your hands down his front appreciatively.
He keens at the praise, his eyes fluttering shut as he blushes. He reaches out to touch you as the fabric of your dress falls to your feet, soft hands brushing against your waist. You shiver when Junmyeon steps closer, pressing himself against your back, kissing the side of your neck. Their touch is everywhere, surrounding you on all sides, and it’s enough to make you feel weak even in these few short minutes.
Hooking your fingers in the belt loops of Baekhyun’s jeans, you turn the two of you around until his back collides with Junmyeon’s front, switching spots with him. He freezes when Junmyeon wraps his arms around his torso holding him in place as you sink to your knees. He moans softly when you reach up to pull down his pants, his leaking cock springing free from his boxers.
“Look at her,” Junmyeon whispers, his hold around Baekhyun firm and unyielding. “She looks so pretty when she does this.”
You wrap your hand around the base and lick at the underside of his tip, soft kitten licks while you look up at him through your eyelashes. Baekhyun’s breath stutters in his throat, throat bobbing as he swallows. “Shit,” he breathes.
“I’ve barely even started, Baekhyunnie,” you coo. You wrap your lips around him and slowly sink down onto his length, agonizingly slow. It’s torturous, the way you’re teasing him, not quite taking all of him in just yet. The main focus is on getting his nerves to settle, watching him slowly unravel in Junmyeon’s arms.
You look up just in time to see your husband settle his chin on the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, whispering something in the younger man’s ear that you can’t quite hear. It must have been something good, because Baekhyun shivers, his fingers twitching at his side. You take that as your cue to sink down all the way around him, your lips meeting your fingers at his base. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back, pulling out to run your tongue under his tip.
“You’re teasing him, baby,” Junmyeon purrs.
“Mhm.” You gather up spit in your mouth and let it dribble down his member, jerking him off slowly.
“Are you just gonna let her do that?” Junmyeon murmurs, turning his attention to Baekhyun.
He blinks, shaking himself out of his daze. His face and chest are flushed so prettily, lips slightly swollen from where he’s been biting down on it. “I don’t— fuck.”
“Here, let me help you.” Junmyeon releases him from his hold and reaches around to place a hand on the back of your head. After giving you a second to prepare, he applies pressure, sliding your mouth down, down, down until Baekhyun hits the back of your throat.
“She likes a little bit of direction,” Junmyeon hums, holding your hair in a loose ponytail to pull you back up. You cough, looking up at the two with watery eyes. “Verbal and nonverbal.”
Baekhyun reaches down, his hand taking the place of Junmyeon’s on your head. He uses his grip on your hair to keep you in place while he thrusts forward, fucking your face shallowly. You even out your breathing, focusing on keeping it slow and controlled, relaxing your jaw and throat as he grows bolder and bolder, pushing in with more speed and force.
Junmyeon leaves Baekhyun’s side and crouches down next to you, slipping a hand in between your thighs. You’re unable to stop the muffled whimper that leaves your throat as he drags his fingers through your folds. “Oh, she’s soaked,” he says. “You like letting Baekhyunnie use your throat like this?”
You moan around him, nodding your head as best as you can. Your vision is swimming with unshed tears, the weight of Baekhyun’s thick cock stretching your lips wide.
But it feels so good, seeing all of the reservations of the shy, unsure man that you met in the bar slowly drop away. The tension in Baekhyun’s shoulders is gone now as he fucks your face with motions that grow more confident by the second. The muscles in his thighs flex with each push forward. His noises, which at first were more restrained, now fall uninhibited from his mouth.
He pulls out fully and you cough, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Your throat feels a little raw, but it’s worth it to have Baekhyun so worked up. “Wanna eat you out,” he murmurs, dazed.
You let him take you by the hand and lay you on the bed, settling between your thighs like it’s second nature. Junmyeon joins your side and kisses you just as Baekhyun licks a strip up your slit, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. He swallows your soft cry when Baekhyun pulls away to suck a hickey into your inner thigh, his slight bite stinging your skin.
“You taste so good,” Baekhyun says, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and burying his face against your cunt, his tongue dipping into your wet hole. “Can’t get enough.”
Junmyeon unhooks your bra and takes your tits into both hands, massaging the mounds and sucking one nipple into his mouth. Your lips fall open, your breath coming in short gasps from the dual stimulation. Junmyeon’s teeth catching against your hardening nipple, Baekhyun’s tongue swirling around your sensitive nub: it’s all too much but not enough at the same time.
“Ahh, fuck.” You screw your eyes shut when you feel Baekhyun’s long, slim fingers prodding at your entrance, slipping inside in one smooth motion. He curls them inside of you right when he sucks on your clit, ripping a sharp gasp from you. He pumps them in and out as he flicks his tongue against you.
“I thought you— mm— said you weren’t very experienced,” you say breathlessly.
Baekhyun laughs. “I guess I’m a fast learner.”
It doesn’t take long at all for your hips to start bucking against Baekhyun’s mouth, your body chasing the friction all on its own. “Gonna cum already?” Junmyeon asks, amused. “He’s that good?”
“Yes,” you pant. “Yes, so good, Baekhyunnie.”
Baekhyun moans against you, looking up at you to watch you fall apart. His glasses are crooked, askew in the most adorable way. It’s a stark contrast to the absolute sin of his lips, dark and kiss-swollen, wet with you. He curls his fingers inside of you, brushing his thumb against your clit. “Cum for me,” he says breathily, eyes wide and awestruck.
Your thighs clamp around Baekhyun’s head as you cum, your back arching off the bed. Junmyeon holds you in place, one hand splayed on your hip and the other holding the back of your head up, forcing you to lock eyes with Baekhyun as your orgasm ripples through you. He devours you with his gaze, staring intently as he continues to fuck you through it, curling his fingers against your walls.
“Need you both,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”
Junmyeon positions you on all fours and stands in front of you, undressing himself until he stands fully bare. Your mouth opens on instinct, obedient, and he rewards you by slapping his cock on your tongue. “You did so well, love,” he murmurs, reaching out to cup your chin with his other hand. “Such a good girl for us.”
You arch into Baekhyun’s touch, pushing backwards onto him when you feel his hands roaming appreciatively on your ass. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance.
“Can I?” he whispers.
“Please.” You hardly recognize your own voice, high and breathy. “Need it so bad.”
He enters you slowly, his length stretching out your slick and sensitive walls. Your mouth falls open, and Junmyeon takes the opportunity to push his cock inside, instantly pressing against your throat. Unlike Baekhyun, he’s not nice with it at all. He knows your limits, if only to know just how far to push you. His hands move to the back of your head, holding you still as he thrusts into you.
“Holy fuck,” Baekhyun groans from behind, hands gripping your hips like a vice. He buries himself inside of you with each thrust, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back with the force of it, surrounded on all sides by the overwhelming pleasure, the slick sounds of sex filling the room and echoing across the walls.
“Feels good?” Junmyeon asks Baekhyun through gritted teeth, stilling when your nose is practically touching his skin, relishing in the sound of you gagging around him.
“Fuck, yes. She’s so perfect.”
Junmyeon pulls out and you gasp for breath, high pitched mewls leaving your hoarse throat when he slaps the side of your face with his cock, leaving a wet trail of spit across your cheek.. “What do you say to Baekhyunnie, hm?”
“Th-Thank you,” you sob, pressing your hips back to meet his thrusts. The walls of your sensitive cunt are already fluttering, tightening around him as the familiar pressure in your abdomen builds once more. “Can I— Can I cum?”
“Greedy,” Junmyeon tuts his tongue at you, thrusting into your mouth. “You just came. Hold it.”
You feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, your thighs and arms shaking from holding yourself up as the tension becomes impossible to ignore. You know you’re an absolute wreck, drool slipping down your chin and onto the bed, clenching the sheets in your fists, trembling between them, stretched out on both ends.
“So pretty when you’re needy like this,” Junmyeon grunts, holding your hair in a loose ponytail with one hand and wiping away the tears that are falling with the other. “You wanted this, right? I thought you wanted to be our fucktoy.”
You nod, arching your back when you feel Baekhyun’s touch, following the curve of your spine up your back to grab onto your shoulder. His pace is stuttering, growing increasingly more erratic with each thrust, low groans punctuating his heavy exhales.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, almost dazed. “You’re taking it so well.”
Your orgasm threatens to overtake you at his words and you blink up frantically at Junmyeon, trying to wordlessly convey your desperation. He lets you breathe, and the words tumble out of you of their own volition.
“I can’t— I can’t, please. Please, I need to cum.”
Junmyeon laughs, low and mean. He cups your chin with one hand and forces your gaze upward. “So pathetic.”
You whine. “Jun, baby, pleasefuckplease.”
“Cum then.”
It hits you like a clap of thunder, your body immediately going taut as it ripples through you, endless waves of white-hot pleasure overtaking your body. You scream, your chest falling onto the bed as you collapse under the weight of your orgasm, holding onto the sheets for dear life as Baekhyun continues to pound into you.
“Fuck,” he groans shakily. “I’m close.”
“Inside me,” you whimper, pulsing back onto his cock. “Cum in me, please, please.”
Baekhyun gasps, his grip tightening on your waist. “Can I?”
“If she’s gonna ask so nicely then why deny her?” Junmyeon says. He presses his hand against the back of your neck, pushing your head ever so slightly into the mattress. “You can.”
He holds you in place as Baekhyun rocks into you, cumming with a low, needy moan. You feel his cum filling you, painting your walls. You sigh in contentment, head and body feeling hazy and pliant, thighs twitching as he catches his breath.
Baekhyun barely has time to pull out before Junmyeon is tugging on your wrist, pulling you up onto the bed and situating you so that you’re on top, back facing him. His strong hands settle on your waist and pull you down onto the thick head of his cock.
“Jun,” you whine, hands scrambling at his thighs to find a place to hold on to as he pulls you down onto him. Your hips settle against his and you moan, dazed. You’re sensitive, so sensitive, but you find your body seeking the friction on its own, fighting through the ache in your muscles.
Baekhyun comes to your front and cups your face while you ride Junmyeon, rocking back and forth on top of him. “You did so good, baby,” you coo, dizzy and drunk with the aftershocks of your last orgasm coursing through your body. He doesn’t look like he’s faring much better— eyes half-lidded and nearly glazed over, “So fucking good for me.”
He keens, leaning in to kiss you messily, hands wandering down to cup your tits. “You’re so wet,” Junmyeon groans from behind you.
“It’s not all from me,” you breathe, rising up a little higher and slamming your hips down. “It’s Baekhyunnie, too.”
Baekhyun’s gaze flits down to where you and Junmyeon are connected and groans sharply, like the noise is being punched out of him. “Fuck, it’s leaking out of you.”
You look down to see that he’s right, Baekhyun’s cum is spilling out of your spent pussy, dribbling down Junmyeon’s cock and making a mess between your legs. You reach out and tug Baekhyun’s hair, his head jerking up with a yelp. Your lips connect with his once again, and you pull him close to whisper, “Why don’t you clean it up for me?”
Baekhyun’s eyes widen and he swallows, but sinks down between Junmyeon’s spread legs obediently. It takes a bit of maneuvering and readjusting the angle on your part, but soon he’s lying on his stomach, pink tongue darting out to lap at the mess while you continue to rock back and forth on Junmyeon’s cock.
“Jesus, fuck,” Junmyeon hisses, nails digging into your hips. Baekhyun’s tongue laves against the underside of his cock as well as your clit, giving both of you an extra jolt of stimulation. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks up at you with hazy, pleasure-drunk eyes.
“Good boy,” you coo, burying your hand in his hair. “You want to clean up Myeon’s too?”
He nods eagerly, leaning back when you prompt him so that you can have more room to ride Junmyeon. You grind down on him the way you know that he likes, arching your back as you pick up speed.
Behind you, Junmyeon pulls your hair, making you cry out. “You’re so nasty,” he groans.
You laugh breathlessly. “You love it.”
He answers by thrusting up into you hard, once, twice, three times before he’s spilling into you, hips jerking against your cunt. Baekhyun ducks his head down and flicks his tongue against your clit, making you gasp.
“You got one more in you, don’t you, angel?” Junmyeon says breathlessly, voice straining at the overstimulation. His hands hold you in place as Baekhyun continues to give soft kitten licks against your leaking cunt, pushing you over the edge for the final time. You tremble between them, too spent to do anything more than tuck your chin to your chest and whimper as your thighs twitch.
Your legs feel like jelly, but they both help you down, laying you onto the sheets. Junmyeon brushes your sweat-damp hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. “You did so good,” he murmurs reverently.
“You were perfect,” you smile. You turn your attention towards Baekhyun, who’s fiddling with the comforter between his fingers, looking at you expectantly. “You were perfect too.”
He perks up, not unlike a puppy would, and smiles. “Thank you. I’m glad.”
Junmyeon heads to the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone. You grab a few tissues from the bedside table and start to clean Baekhyun up. He makes an embarrassed, high-pitched sound in the back of his throat. “I should be doing that for you,” he says. He goes to grab some for himself but you push him down gently, silencing his protests with a kiss.
“Let me,” you say. “You did good, Baekhyun.”
He stays still while you clean him, only moving when you’re done to return the favor. The shyness has returned to his touch, still unsure about the ways in which he’s allowed to touch you. You want to tell him that nothing’s off limits, especially now, but you figure you have the rest of the weekend to convince him of that fact.
Junmyeon returns with a couple glasses of water, his sweats hanging low on his hips. He sets them down on the nightstand and crawls into bed on your other side.
Baekhyun looks between the two of you, an indescribable, uncomfortable expression crossing his face. “Should I… Where should I sleep?”
You blink at him. “Here?” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t wanna intrude.”
Junmyeon snorts. “Baekhyun, if it were even possible for us to feel like you were intruding it probably would have been before you licked your own cum out of my wife while I fucked her.”
Baekhyun’s ears burn bright red and he groans, hiding his face in your neck. You lightly whack the back of Junmyeon’s head, wrapping an arm around the younger man. “Don’t embarrass him, Jun, what’s the matter with you?”
He laughs, reaching out to card his hand through Baekhyun’s hair affectionately. “I’m sorry, Baek, I’m just messing around. But seriously, this bed has more than enough space for all three of us.”
Baekhyun makes a sound that’s halfway to acceptance against your skin. Junmyeon continues, “And if it really matters that much to you, I can set up the couch for you but,” he makes a big show out of pretending to yawn, “It’s really late and I’m tired and wouldn’t you just rather fall asleep right now?”
“Well when you put it like that…”
Junmyeon turns off the light and the three of you settle into bed, Baekhyun on your left and Junmyeon on your right. As you get comfortable in between them, drifting off into a peaceful sleep, you can’t help but hope that in the future you have many, many nights just like this one.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⟡ summary: that night, you discovered a new side of junmyeon.
⟡ content: +18 content, mdni, smut, non idol au, plot with porn, 10 year age gap, mention of alcohol (no drunk sex), light angst, foreplay, praising, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, spitting, pussy slapping, raw sex, p i v, creampie, aftercare, dilf!junmyeon x f!reader | word count: 4.4k words
⟡ a/note: hi, loves!! like always, read the content warning first, and... keep in mind that junmyeon was wearing glasses, mhwaaa. anyway, minors get away from here !!
A feather kiss. That was what Junmyeon promised himself that night when he leaned in to kiss you. But he didn’t expect you to deepen it, burying your fingers in his nape. You were on tiptoes, feeling the warmth of his palm holding your lower back, while the other hand was cupping your cheekbone.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled against your lips, fighting a losing battle with his self-control.
You weren’t listening.
Junmyeon felt his rational side curse at himself for being the one who started the kiss, but he knew he had to be the one who stopped it too. He pulled away, looking down at you with wide and shimmering eyes behind his glasses. In the dim light of the street, the frames seemed to highlight the sheer panic in his expression. He didn’t know where to begin his apologies—for the lack of permission, for the cocktails that were still in your system, for pulling away, or for the way his heart broke just looking at the confusion on your face.
“I’m sorry.” He managed to cup your face with both hands as if he couldn’t bear to let go entirely. “I-I didn’t mean to—”
“Kiss me?” Your voice sounded rougher than you expected. You wrenched yourself away, reaching up to quickly swipe at the tear beginning to blur your vision. “I should go home.”
“Wait.” Junmyeon caught your hand before you crossed the street at a red light. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
You didn’t want to look at his face. You didn’t want to see the regret etched into his features. “Angel… you were drinking. I didn’t want you—”
“I get it.” You cut him off, the sting of his rejection sharper than any alcohol.
Junmyeon knew that any explanation would sound hollow. He knew he fucked up this time.
Without another word, he hailed a taxi, sliding into the seat beside you in a heavy silence as you two headed to your place.
It was your third date. Junmyeon had always been a gentleman. He’d opened every door, offered every praise, and treated you with a reverence that made you feel like a princess. That night, he put you first too. The moment he saw you enjoying the cocktails, he decided to drink just a sip of wine to take care of you, even admitting that the ten-year age gap between you had terrified him at first, though he’d followed it by adding that he’d never felt more like himself than when he was with you.
He knew you didn’t care about his age at all, joking about how he looked even younger than you. Yet, there you were, reeling because he seemed to regret the one thing you had wanted the most—a kiss.
When you two left the taxi, Junmyeon stepped out with you, his desperation finally bubbling over.
“Please, love,” he urged, “can you listen to me?” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
You doubted for a second, and then, you faced him. “For what exactly? Kissing me? Making me feel delusional? Or making me feel like a fool?”
“For not kissing you when you were sober.”
You looked at him with narrow eyes, wondering what was on his mind. “What?”
“I don’t regret the kiss, love, but I regret the timing. I mean… I should’ve done it hours ago.” He took a step closer, the slight height difference between you feeling more intimate than it ever had before. “Angel.” He made you feel small when he held both hands. “I really wanna kiss you right now. And tomorrow, and even after that, it still won’t be enough for me.”
“Junmyeon…”
“I know I ruined it tonight, but I want you to remember everything. Every second with me if that’s possible.” He placed one of your hands against his chest, right on the center of his heart. “See how nervous I am to even look at you.” He pressed your hand closer. “You really think I regret wanting you?”
“I just… I wanna be good for you,” he whispered, his breath hitching. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and wonder if an older man took advantage of you.”
“We’ve talked about it.”
“I know… I know you don’t care about my age, but,” he breathed, struggling. “It’s important to me. You’re so precious to me. I’m afraid that if I do something wrong, you’ll see me differently. I... I wanna be worthy of you, angel.”
You looked at him, focusing on the look of pure, unadulterated adoration that he couldn’t hide. On the way, his glasses fogged slightly at the edges from the cold night air and the heat of his own agitation.
“You’re worthy, Junmyeon.”
You reached out, your fingers curling firmly into the fabric of his shirt, and hauled him down toward you, pressing your lips to his with a grounding force, stopping him mid-sentence.
You felt the immediate jolt of his surprise, his body going rigid under your hands. “Angel, please…” he murmured against your lips, his voice breaking as he tried to maintain a shred of restraint. “You’re... you aren’t thinking straight. I shouldn’t—”
“I’ve never been clearer,” you whispered back, your breath ghosting over his skin as you tightened your grip on his clothes. “Stop being a gentleman for one second and just be mine.”
Junmyeon let out a shaky breath, his glasses slipping further down his nose as he looked at you with a mix of agony and want. “I’ve been trying so hard to be the man you deserve.” His forehead dropped against yours. “If I start… I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then don’t stop.”
You answered his doubt by tilting your head and deepening the kiss, your tongue grazing his lower lip. And Junmyeon lost the fight.
“Fuck,” he growled low, his hands finally snapping to your waist with a possessive strength that stole your breath.
Junmyeon pulled you flush against him as he kissed you back with a sudden, desperate hunger. The polite, restrained version of him was gone, finally letting himself feel everything he’d been bottling up since your first date.
Without breaking the kiss, you reached behind you, fumbling for the handle of your front door until it clicked open, and you hauled him inside into the dark hallway. The door slammed shut, muffled by the sound of your combined breaths. The kiss deepened into something primal—a desperate tangle of tongues and lips. Your hands were everywhere, frantic and sure, and when you finally pulled back just an inch to catch the air you both lacked, you saw his glasses had been knocked askew, his eyes dark and blown wide with a hunger he could no longer hide.
You didn’t give him a single second to protest. You grabbed the front of his shirt and backed toward your bedroom, leading him through the shadows. He kissed you again, following you like a man possessed, his hands finding your lower back, his fingers digging into your hips as if to anchor himself to the reality of you.
The moment your heels hit the rug of your bedroom, you pulled him back into you. You reached for the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling but determined.
“You’re sure?” he whispered against your jaw, his voice vibrating through your entire body. He reached up, his fingers trembling as he straightened his glasses just to look you in the eye.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart while your hands were moving.
His touch was both reverent and urgent as he peeled his jacket away from you—the one he’d draped over your shoulders the moment you stepped out into the night air.
The heavy fabric fell to the floor, leaving your neck and shoulders bare. Junmyeon let out a jagged breath at the sight of you. He leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder.
“God... you’re so beautiful,” he groaned against your skin.
His hands moved with a slow, agonizing deliberation, sliding the thin braces of your dress off your shoulders. You felt the cool air for only a second before his open-mouth kisses followed the new path of exposed skin. Your head fell back, your fingers diving into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.
One of his hands shifted, sliding down your hip and tracing slowly upward along the bare skin of your thigh. The touch was possessive, his palm hot against you. But as his hand moved higher, it met the hem of your dress. Junmyeon turned you around with a firm, possessive hand on your waist, his breath hot against the bare skin of your spine. You felt his fingers find the zipper of your dress. He didn’t let the dress fall yet. Instead, he pressed a row of lingering, worshipful kisses along your shoulder blades.
“My gorgeous angel.” His hands slid around to your front, tracing the curve of your waist beneath the loosened fabric. “I wanna know every inch of you.”
You turned back into his arms, your dress now a loose barrier held up only by the pressure of your bodies. You looked up at him, seeing a man who was utterly, hopelessly undone by you.
“I’m yours.”
Junmyeon caught your lips in a kiss that tasted of pure need, his hand sliding upward along your thigh, finally finding the bare skin he’d been craving. With one fluid motion, he guided you back until you hit the edge of the mattress, his body following yours down as the last of the barriers finally gave way.
Junmyeon didn’t stop at your neck; he traced a path of fire down to your collarbone, his lips pressing bruised kisses against the bone. You arched into him, your fingers fumbling blindly with the last buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his chest against yours.
“You’re so perfect.” His voice hitched as he moved lower.
His mouth found the soft curve of your boobs, his lips grazing the delicate skin. The heat of his breath seeped into your skin when his tongue met you, nipping at the swell of you, his teeth grazing your nipples with a hunger that made your toes curl.
“Jun, please,” you gasped, finally shoving his shirt off his shoulders, sliding your fingertips across his back.
“I have you, angel,” he murmured, his glasses nearly sliding off as he buried his face in the valley of your chest. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”
Junmyeon slid lower, his hands gripping your waist with a bruising intensity as he leaned down to bite the soft skin of your hip. The sharp sting of his teeth made you whimper, your fingers clutching the bedsheets as you watched him move between your legs.
You were past the point of patience, your voice breaking as you started to beg, but the words died in your throat. His tongue suddenly slid over the damp silk of your panties, tracing the length of your slit through the fabric.
“Fuck—you’re so wet.”
You let out a jagged, high-pitched gasp, your body trembling with a violent shock of pleasure. Before you could even find your breath, Junmyeon’s fingers hooked into the lace and took the fabric off. Immediately, he melted between your legs, his mouth finding you with a messy, possessive hunger that was completely devoid of restraint.
“Ah—Junmyeon!”
You curved your spine, your head thrashing against the pillows as you moaned his name loudly. Even in the darkness, the view was staggeringly hot. Junmyeon was on his knees, taking your heels away, and then, he shoved your legs up and over his shoulders to get deeper, to get closer.
He devoured you, the sounds of his tongue and his own low, answering moans filling the room. He was eating you out as a man possessed, his hands roaming upward to catch your waist and pull you flush against his face.
“So fucking delicious.”
His tongue swiped upward again, more forceful this time, making you cry out and arch your back off the mattress. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back down, and he went willingly, his mouth devouring your slit with a messy, frantic urgency, his nose buried in your clit, and his glasses had completely fogged over.
“Junmyeon!” you sobbed. “Please... I can’t... it’s too much.”
Even with his vision blurred by the steam on his lenses, he kept making out with your pussy. With two fingers, he spread your folds wide, exposing every sensitive, pulsing inch of you.
“I’m not done, angel.”
Junmyeon spat directly onto your cunt, making you gasp in surprise. He gave you no time to recover, his palm coming down in a sharp, stinging slap against your wet skin that made your hips bolt off the mattress.
“Fuck!” you shrieked, your voice cracking as the sensation sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core. “Jun—please!”
He chuckled, slapping you again, four times in a row. “Cute.”
His mouth was devouring your pussy all over again. The sound was filthy—the wet slurping of his tongue as he drank you in, his lips pulling at your clit until you were sobbing into the pillows. Just as you thought you couldn’t take another second, he drove two fingers deep inside you. The sudden fullness was staggering. He used his fingers to stretch you, mimicking the rhythm of his tongue as it found your clit with unerring, brutal precision.
“So tight around me,” he moaned against your skin, his voice muffled by the depth of his descent. “I can feel you shaking, love.”
“I—shit! I’m so close!” Your legs were shaking so violently that you couldn’t keep them still. In a desperate, instinctive move to ground yourself, you tried to clamp your thighs shut, pinning his head between your knees.
You heard Junmyeon let out a low chuckle against your thigh. He didn’t pull away; he only pushed deeper, his fingers curling inside you while his mouth trapped your clit in a possessive seal.
He was pushing you, testing the very edge of your sanity. Your voice broke into jagged, unrecognizable sounds as you fought—and failed—to resist the wave crashing over you.
“Junmyeon—oh god! I-I’m going to—” your sentence shattered into a scream as you came right against his tongue. You bucked, your body racking with tremors as you drenched his mouth and his searching fingers.
Junmyeon stayed right there, slurping and lapping up every drop of you, greedy, starving, until the violent shaking of your legs finally began to fade. He slid his fingers out slowly, before leaning in to press one last, lingering open-mouthed kiss to your swollen folds.
Junmyeon stood up, watching you through glasses that were finally starting to clear as the steam dissipated. His lips were a bruised, swollen red, and his chin glistened, bright with the evidence of your pleasure, lazily licking his own fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours.
“So fucking delicious.”
Trembling and still reeling from the aftershocks, you crawled toward him across the mattress. You reached for the waistband of his pants, your hands shaking as you pressed a desperate kiss against his boner through the fabric.
Junmyeon let out a low growl, curving his lips. He let you work, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek with surprising tenderness as you shoved his pants and boxers down his legs. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock—hard, pulsing, veiny, glistering with precum. You wrapped your hand around his length, stroking it as you leaned in to taste the tip.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “My angel’s so hungry, hmm?” His thumb slid from your lower lip into your mouth, looking directly at you.
You hummed in response, sucking his finger.
Junmyeon let out a soft chuckle. “Use that pretty mouth for me, love.”
After he removed his thumb, you leaned in, the tip of his cock grazing your lips before you finally took him inside. At first, you moved at your own rhythm, tasting him slowly, your tongue swirling around the head while you looked up at him through your lashes.
Junmyeon let out a jagged, breathless sound, his hand diving into your hair. His grip was firm and possessive as he guided your movements, helping you slide further down his length.
“Shit—you’re so good,” he chanted. “So damn pretty when you take what’s yours.”
You felt the moisture return between your legs, a fresh wave of heat drenching your thighs as you listened to him unravel. Every time you swallowed, every time your throat tightened around him, he let out a low, desperate moan, tightening his grip.
“Deep, angel. For me, hmm?” His fingers pulled you closer, his hips arching upward to meet your mouth. “Good girl.”
You tried to take every bit of him, your eyes watering as you pushed your limits, desperate to please him. You sucked him with a frantic, messy hunger, your hands roaming over his thighs. However, the need for oxygen became too much; you had to pull away, your chest heaving as you panted for air, leaving a long, silver thread of saliva connecting you to him.
Junmyeon was a sight of pure devastation, his chest rose and fell in time. “You’ve done so well for me, love,” he rasped. “Lay back.”
You hesitated for a heartbeat, your body humming with a stubborn need to keep worshiping him. Instead of pulling away, you leaned forward one last time, your tongue swirling over the tip in a slow, defiant lick.
Junmyeon let out a dark, breathy chuckle. “Still so greedy, huh?”
He leaned down and pressed a messy kiss against your lips, making you moan softly, tasting yourself on his lips. “Lemme give you what you deserve.” He kissed you again. “Lay back, angel.”
Junmyeon gently guided you back, his hands firm on your shoulders as he helped you lie across the center of the bed. Your legs were shaking so violently that you could barely keep them steady.
You lie there, eyes locked on him, watching as he circled his thumb over the head of his cock. “Jun—”
“Shh.” The sight of him sent a fresh jolt of heat through your core. You were so eager you could feel the ache in your bones, your legs parting instinctively to welcome him. “Lemme do everything, hmm?”
You nodded and watched him, completely submissive to the heat in his gaze. Junmyeon moved over you, positioned himself, the hot tip of his cock meeting your wet folds, teasing the entrance just for a second before he slid inside. He went slowly, with a deliberate, possessive steadiness that made you gasp, his body claiming yours inch by inch until he was buried deep.
“Fuck!” Your hands flew to his body, your fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back and shoulders, desperate to pull him even closer.
“Yes—you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice a jagged whisper.
You wanted to eliminate every bit of space between you. You could feel the scorched heat of his breath mixing with yours. Junmyeon’s hands didn’t stay still; they roamed your body, cupping your waist and your hips, his palms hot and demanding as he pressed himself deeper, anchoring you to him.
He leaned down, catching your lips in a messy, desperate kiss that tasted of everything you had done that night. You whimpered softly against his mouth, the sound vibrating between your locked lips as you felt the first, heavy surge of his hips.
Junmyeon began to move—a slow, grinding slide that made your head thrash against the pillow. His glasses were a blur of fog and silver light as he looked down at you, his face a mask of pure, concentrated need.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured between kisses, his thrusts gaining a possessive rhythm. “I’ve finally got you, love.”
The intensity reached a fever pitch, and the rhythmic friction of your bodies increased. Junmyeon reached up, his movements frantic as he tore his glasses from his face and tossed them onto the bed.
Junmyeon surged forward, his kisses traveling back to your neck, biting and sucking at your skin with an impossible depth. Every thrust was a claim, his hips driving so low that you felt him hitting your cervix, and then that spot—a deep, heavy ache that made your vision blur.
“Junmyeon—oh, shit!”You shrieked his name, your legs locking around his waist to pull him deeper, while your nails dug into the firm muscles of his back, leaving red crescents in their wake.
“Fuck—yes,” he groaned against your neck.
Your walls were rhythmically squeezing him, a tight, pulsing welcome that drew a jagged, broken groan from his throat. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, branding your collarbone with fresh hickeys that would surely be there in the morning. When he finally came back to your lips, his kiss was desperate, his teeth grazing yours as he fought the ultimate losing battle.
“I’m—I’m right there.” His voice was a scorched ruin. “Angel, shit—I’m gonna—"
“I’m close. Ah—Junmyeon!” you sobbed against his mouth, your body vibrating with the impending release.
You clenched around him, feeling him freeze for a split second, that lingering, rational side of him flaring up one last time. His muscles locked, his breath hitching in his chest as he prepared to pull out. But you tightened your legs around him, anchoring him to you, and moved your hips in a small, demanding circle.
He panicked. “Love—”
“Stay,” you whispered, the word a shattered plea. “End up inside... please, Junmyeon—stay.”
That was the final blow to his sanity. With a mix of wide-eyed panic and a surge of pure, unadulterated lust, Junmyeon lost the fight. He let out a loud, guttural moan, burying his face back into the heat of your neck as he shattered. He poured himself into you, his body racking with violent, heavy tremors that didn’t seem to stop.
The force of his release triggered your own. You climaxed with him, your head thrashing against the pillow, moaning, trembling to the sensation of him filling you. You were both completely ruined, collapsing into each other.
“Fuck—you’re going to be the death of me… I swear it,” he panted.
Your eyes remained shut, your breath still coming in shallow, jagged hitches as you held him. The weight of his body was a grounding comfort, but you could feel the stillness in him—his mind reeled a mile a minute. He pressed a singular, lingering kiss to the crook of your neck before he finally began to pull out.
“You okay, angel?” He moved with agonizing slowness, as if he were afraid you might break if he shifted too fast. He reached for your mouth, giving you a kiss so soft and tentative it felt like a ghost of the man who had just been devouring you.
You nodded and opened your eyes and saw it immediately—that flicker of panic and overthink.
You reached up, cupping his face, your thumbs grazing his cheekbones. “I’m okay. And I’m on the pill,” you whispered, curving your lips after giving him a kiss. The confession acted like a physical release for the tension in his shoulders.
He kissed you again, more firmly this time, though his voice was still a worried wreck. “I really did lose it, didn’t I?” he murmured, a mix of pride and sheepishness in his voice. “I promised to be a gentleman, and I ended up branding you.”
“I told you I didn’t want a gentleman tonight.” You gave him a peck that made him smile. “Also... it was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you confessed, your voice still a bit airy and light from the afterglow.
Junmyeon paused, shifting his weight so he wasn’t crushing you, but he didn’t let go. He pulled you flush against his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “You were incredible, love. But it wasn’t just sex for me,” he corrected softly, his heart thudding a steady, rapid rhythm against your ear. “Not even close.”
You smiled against his skin, feeling the warmth of his words bloom in your chest. He began to pepper kisses everywhere he could reach—your forehead, your temple, the tip of your nose—his arms wrapped around you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.
“Is it... right?” he started, his voice uncharacteristically shy. Junmyeon hesitated, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. “It might sound corny for someone older than you to ask this? I mean… I want you to be mine. Officially. I’d like you to be my girlfriend. Is it too soon?”
You bolted upright, your eyes wide and shimmering with a bright, startled joy. You didn’t give him a chance to overthink again. You dove at him, showering his face in kisses, over and over until he was laughing breathlessly beneath you.
“Yes!” you breathed between kisses. “A thousand times, yes! Y’know I don’t care about that, Junmyeon.” You paused, a mischievous glint entering your eyes as you leaned in to whisper against his ear. “Besides, after what you just did to me…” Your fingertip formed circles over his chest. “I don’t think you’re that old.”
Junmyeon let out a bright, melodic laugh at your teasing, the sound rich and relieved as it filled the quiet bedroom. He shook his head, a playful glint returning to his eyes. “Is that so? Alright, I’ll have to make sure I live up to those perks every single day then,” he countered, nipping playfully at your lower lip before melting back into you.
He peppered your face with soft, worshipful kisses. “My girlfriend,” he murmured against your lips, then again against your cheek. “My beautiful, incredible girlfriend.”
You couldn’t stop the wide, giddy smile from taking over your face. You reached out, trying to hook your arms around his neck to pull him back down for more.
“As much as I want to stay exactly like this,” he teased, his gaze drifting down to the tangled mess you had both become, “We’re a disaster, angel.”
You laughed, reaching blindly across the tangled sheets until your fingers brushed against cold metal. You pulled his glasses into view and carefully slid them back onto the bridge of his nose. As the frames settled, his eyes came back into sharp focus, full of a warmth that made your stomach flip.
You reached up, pulling him down by his jaw for a slow, lingering kiss. “Well,” you whispered against his mouth, “shower and cuddles, then?”
Junmyeon didn’t wait for another word. In one fluid, surprisingly strong motion, he tucked his arms under you and lifted you into his chest. You let out a small squeak of surprise, clinging to his shoulders, both giggling and kissing as he carried you toward the bathroom.
↳ baekhyun develops an unhealthy obsession with you, the new girl in town who's too sweet for your own good
↳ wc: 2.4k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | baekhyun pov. perverted, somewhat toxic baekhyun. virgin, inexperienced reader. lots of filthy thoughts, (excessive) masturbation (m solo). mentions of raw p in v, dacryphilia, overstim. kinda corruption kink-y? panty sniffing lmao
↳ mai's ovulation thoughts strike again sigh. but tbh i've been wanting to write pervert baek again ever since let me hear you and really get innnnn it. again he's kinda toxic so if you find this out in the wild, runnnnnn!!!! but this is fiction so it's okay. this is not meant to say anything about what i think the real baekhyun's character is like obvi! if you like it i might write part 2 hehehe
Baekhyun’s never considered himself to be a particularly perverted person.
Sure, he’s had filthy thoughts, who hasn’t? He’s accidentally let his eyes linger too long on someone’s body before, silently appreciating the curves of a stranger. With women he’s dated in the past, he’s let them know just how attractive he finds them: slipping his hand in the back pocket of their jeans, “absentmindedly” letting his hands wander across their bodies. And yes, of course, he masturbates. A healthy amount. A normal amount.
That all changed when he met you.
The new coworker of Chanyeol’s that didn’t know anybody in the city, who tagged along one night to the group outing to a local bar. Baekhyun didn’t talk to you much that first time, but he kept his eye on you. He skirted around you all night trying to muster up the courage to say something of substance, but for some reason his feet failed him and his mouth failed him even more. He didn’t know why. He never had any trouble talking to anyone, and not even in a flirty way. It’s just that every time he thought about approaching you he just folded. Crumbled.
Maybe it was the way that you smiled at him. Maybe it was the way that when you laughed, you really laughed, tilting your head back as it coursed through you. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was everything. In any case, he goes home with only a handful of words spoken to you.
The second time you meet is even worse. It’s a hot day, so Chanyeol naturally invites everyone over as the only person with a pool. And when you walk in, taking off your oversized t-shirt to reveal a bikini that leaves almost nothing to the imagination… Baekhyun nearly has to excuse himself and fake feeling ill.
“Chanyeol, will you put sunscreen on my back?” you ask.
Chanyeol only spares a glance over from where he’s balancing various food items in his arms, trying to get from the patio table to the back door without dropping anything. “Uhhh, busy! Ask Baek!”
And when you turn towards him with the sweetest smile, who is he to say no?
The first touch of your soft skin nearly kills him, but he grits his teeth and pushes on. Barely there, feather-light touches onto your shoulders with just enough pressure to rub the sunscreen in. God, he feels like a fucking freak, like a virginal teenager who’s never touched a woman before, but there’s just something about you that makes all of his self-control fly out the fucking window.
“Can you get my lower back too?” you ask.
He curses silently as his hands dip lower, your back arching slightly underneath his touch. He doesn’t do a thorough job, sun protection be damned, and finishes rubbing whatever is left on his hands into your skin.
“Thank you, Baekhyun,” you say with that damn smile. The syllables of his name sound so beautiful falling from your lips. Baekhyun thinks he might die.
It’s almost instant the way that you have him under your spell, and you don’t have even the slightest idea that it’s happening. Every time he closes his eyes from that day, he sees you. He pictures your curves, the way that droplets of pool water clung to your skin, the way you looked with your head tilted back, face towards the sun as you soak in the rays. The first time he jerks off thinking of you, he imagines pulling the string of that joke of a swimsuit as you ride him, your tits bouncing each time you slam down onto his cock.
The guilt settles immediately after he’s finished, his cum not even dry on his stomach yet. He just cleans himself up and washes his hands, thinking to himself that that’s the last time.
The third time you meet is devastating.
It’s a dinner party at Kyungsoo’s, which means bringing over a bottle of wine and cooing over the host’s cooking skills, no matter how many times he insists the compliments embarrass him. It also means seeing you for the first time since he’s jerked off to you.
He’s determined to keep you at an arm’s length. Sure you’re becoming increasingly more integrated into the friend group, but that doesn’t mean that he has to be friends with you. Just be polite, be civil, and don’t get close.
Of course this is the one and only time Kyungsoo decides to integrate place cards.
He can smell your perfume so clearly just by sitting next to you, something sweet like baked goods. It latches on to him, circling his nose and mouth, drowning him deeper and deeper into this hole that he’s dug for himself. He nods at you politely, asks you all the right questions so as to not be rude, but mostly keeps to himself. He ignores Chanyeol’s foot jostling his from across the table, shooting him concerned glances. It’s all going perfectly well until you go to pass him the bowl of salad.
“Oh,” you say suddenly, frowning. You pull the bowl back from Baekhyun’s outstretched hands. “There’s cucumber in this, do you still want it?”
Baekhyun gapes at you. “How did you know that I don’t eat cucumbers?”
You shrug, the ghost of a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lip. “I saw you picking them out of your sandwich at the pool party.”
This act, this simple act of attention, breaks him. Because now, after the past few times of watching you from a distance, noticing things about you, he can delude himself into thinking that you’ve been noticing him too.
He can’t stop himself from talking to you now. He offers to walk you back to your apartment, since he learns that he would be passing by your building anyways. The two of you talk, really talk for the first time. You’re just as sweet as he imagined you’d be, but you’re also funny, incredibly smart and perceptive. He falls for you by the second, each step he takes by your side a step towards what can only end in complete and utter disaster for him.
He’s telling a story about a Hinge date he went on recently that went horribly wrong (he doesn’t tell you that it went wrong because she was nothing compared to you), when you pin the final nail in his coffin.
“God, it’s stories like these that make me glad that I’ve never dated anyone.”
He almost stops dead in his tracks. “What?”
Your ears flush red and you look away. “Yeah, I know. How embarrassing, right?”
He backtracks immediately. “No, not at all! I’m just… surprised, y’know?”
“Why are you surprised?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Because you’re so…” He stammers. “You’re so wonderful. Any guy would be stupid to not want to take you out.”
Your entire face flushes, but you’re smiling now. “Thanks, Baekhyun. But nope. Never gone on a date, never been kissed, never had sex—” If you hear the way he nearly chokes on his own spit, you don’t mention it, “I did hold hands once in grade school but yeah. That’s about it.”
He bids you goodnight at your building and basically runs all the way home. He spends the entire night with his hand around his dick and the neck of his shirt over his nose, trying to inhale what remnants of your perfume still cling to him.
Everything is terrible now. Now all he can fucking think about is taking you apart for the first time, making you shake and tremble underneath him. Every time his hand wraps around his cock he pictures your face, eyes wide and teary, as he sinks into your wet heat for the first time. And call him sick, call him perverted, toxic, all of the above, but he thinks about being the first person to make you feel good like that, fucking you so good that you won’t ever want anyone else, only him.
In his mind, he has you in every conceivable position, but the one he goes back to constantly is the simplest: missionary. He thinks about swallowing your pretty moans and whimpers as your walls suck him in. He imagines the way that you would hold back at first, biting down on your lip, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The ragged gasp you would make when he finally finds that sweet spot, how your hands would tremble as they fist the sheets.
He would be nice to you, at first. He would never dream of making your first time anything less than comfortable and pleasurable for you. He would give you the world, love you with as much sweetness that a perfect person like you deserved.
But once you get comfortable?
He’s not holding back.
He’s not holding back until you’re crying out his name, shaking from sensitivity, overwhelmed by just how good he feels. He would make you cum again, and again, and again until you can’t even remember your own fucking name. He wants to see you covered in marks, his marks: scattered like glitter across your collarbones, your tits, your inner thighs. But most of all? He wants to cum inside of you, wants to fuck it back inside until you’re full and aching.
He wants to see you with tears running down your face, wants to have you incoherent and needy, grinding your hips back desperately like an animal in heat. He wants to be the only thing on your mind the way that you’re the only thing on his. And yes, the darkest, sickest parts of him wants to make you so drunk on him that you would never dare to look at someone else ever again. He wants, he wants, he wants.
But the wanting has made it hard for him to be your friend.
So, he pulls away. Because you don’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve your friendship when all he’s done is be a sick fucking freak behind your back. So the next time, at Jongin’s house, he only gives you a polite nod. At lunch the next weekend, just a small, Hello. On Sehun's birthday, he ignores you entirely.
When it’s your turn to host, he almost pretends that he’s sick. But the guilt of disappointing you outweighs all of the other guilt that’s already compounded inside of him, so he packs up his dignity along with a fresh bouquet of flowers, and heads to your apartment.
Everything is going smoothly. He follows his usual routine of mostly ignoring you, and you’re too busy hosting to seem like you care. He’s about to head out with everyone else when you call his name. Softly. Beautifully.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
He swallows. The apartment is empty besides the two of you now, and the silence hangs heavy and thick in the air.
“Did I do something wrong?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “No.” His voice is cold, and his heart pangs when you visibly bristle at it.
“Oh. Okay. Um…” Your hands fidget at your side, playing with the fabric of your skirt absentmindedly. “I just—”
With a start, Baekhyun realizes that there are tears brimming in your eyes. He crosses the distance between you and pulls you into an embrace without thinking. You sob softly, muffled into the fabric of his sweater.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Please don’t cry.”
“I thought I must’ve offended you,” you say . “And after I thought that we were starting to become friends.”
Baekhyun realizes that in trying to protect you, he’s only hurt you that much more. His heart aches. He made you cry. How can he ever forgive himself?
You look at him, tear tracks staining your cheeks. “I thought you really didn’t like me this whole time. But after Kyungsoo’s dinner party I thought that we were getting somewhere.”
“That’s not true,” he says, panicking slightly. “I… I like you. A lot. And I thought that maybe pulling away would be better for you but clearly I was wrong. I was stupid. Please forgive me.”
It takes the words a second to register, but the second that it does, realization spreads across your face. “You… like me?”
“I do,” he confesses. “But I didn’t want to mess anything up because you’re so nice and pretty and—”
Your lips crash into his. It’s messy, uncoordinated, but fuck is it perfect. He cups your face with one hand, the other holding your waist, pressing you close to him. It takes a second for the rhythm to settle, but you follow his lead, melting underneath his touch.
His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you shiver, whimpering against him, and fuck. He has to pull away before he cums in his pants like a hormonal teenage boy.
You’re panting slightly, your cheeks dusted with pink, and you’re the most beautiful person Baekhyun’s ever seen in his life.
“That was my first kiss,” you murmur, slightly dazed.
“Did you like it?”
You nod, pressing yourself against him, eyelids closing halfway. “Wanna do it again.”
You kiss until Baekhyun’s head spins, need nearly clawing through him from the inside out. He doesn’t want to push, but each time you moan softly and tug on his hair it makes it harder and harder to keep a grip on his sanity.
“Go out with me,” he murmurs against your lips. “Next Saturday.”
“Yes,” you breathe before kissing him again. “Yes, please.”
Before he leaves, you have him close his eyes. “Promise me you won’t look until you get home. Don’t even touch it.” That’s all the warning he gets before you shove something in the pockets of his pants. You kiss him one more time before he leaves, a sweet and gentle peck, a stark contrast to the makeout session of before.
His curiosity is piqued, but he keeps his word, trying not to think about the contents of his pocket. Once he gets through the door, he kicks his shoes off and shoves his hand inside. Stops. Freezes.
Because there’s no fucking way.
There’s no fucking way that he’s pulling out a pair of white cotton panties, your white cotton panties, out of his pocket.
Your soaked white cotton panties.
He moans out loud, completely uninhibited, nearly tripping over his feet to run to the bedroom. That night, he jerks off without any guilt, without any shame, nose buried into your soaked white cotton panties as he cums for the nth time that night.
Because now he knows.
Now he knows that you’re just as sick as he is.
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