ᯓ★ writer tag: #madeinmyeon | junmyeon and exo centric | ot9 truther/writer | this blog isn't allowed for minors or rude and hate comments; you will be blocked | my inbox is always open if you wanna yap, request something, or just talk about whatever you need !!
i. about me — ii. navigation — iii. requests? — masterlist under the cut
✧ at the same damn time (w/ chanyeol) ✧ summary: your noisy neighbor and his best friend share everything, even sex. ✧ content: smut, threesome, degradation, oral sex, fingering, raw sex, face fucking, multiple orgasms, junmyeon x f!reader x chanyeol, 2.1k words
✧ 'cause i'm just a half without you ✧ summary: your ex, couldn’t get over you, even when he was playing the most important match of his career. ✧ content: smut, angst, exes to lovers, college au, raw sex, footballplayer!junmyeon x f!reader, 3k words
✧ jump your body to me ✧ summary: you found your boyfriend trying on his new cowboy outfit. ✧ content: smut, oral sex (both receiving), face fucking, degradation, dumbification, daddy kink, cum eating, dom!junmyeon x subf!reader, 2.4k words
✧ let your body run your mind — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: he thought he had everything under control, until he saw a small piece of your bra. ✧ content: smut, established relationship, slightly public sex, breast play, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), junmyeon x f!reader, 2.3k words
✧ i go back to you, back to you... every time! — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: you never expected he would act completely different after the breakup. ✧ content: smut, lovers to exes to enemies to lovers, angst, oral sex (f. receiving), mirror sex, rough sex, raw sex, idol!junmyeon x idolf!reader, 7.7k words
✧ you're a pain twisted by fate ✧ summary: in the eyes of the castle, he was your knight, the one who protected you with his whole life. ✧ content: royal au, light smut, angst, unforbidden love, raw sex, knight!junmyeon x princess!reader, 2.3k words
✧ [ 12:04am ] ✧ summary: that night, you discovered a new side of junmyeon. ✧ content: smut, age gap, foreplay, oral sex, raw sex, aftercare, dilf!junmyeon x f!reader, 4.4k words
✧ enemies with benefits ✧ summary: you ain’t even friends, just enemies with benefits. ✧ content: smut, plot with porn, office au, enemies to fb, oral sex (both receiving), slight sub and dom leaning, fingering, marathon sex, facesitting, masturbation, raw sex, dirty talking, edging, creampie, overstimulation, junmyeon x f!reader, 11.7k words
ᯓ★ DRABBLES:
✧ save a horse, ride a cowboy ✧ content: smut, unprotected sex, cowboy!junmyeon x f!reader, 1k words
✧ fell me breathing ✧ content: smut, phone sex, masturbation, exes to _, veryneedy!junmyeon x f!reader, 1,2k words
✧ can't deny this love — request .ᐟ ✧ content: smut, established relationship, drunk sex, unprotected sex, junmyeon x f!reader, 0,9k words
✧ just take it easy — request .ᐟ ✧ content: sfw, fluff, kinda suggestive, junmyeon x gn!reader, 0,9k words
✧ birthday wishes ✧ content: sfw, fluff, 0,3k words
✧ them conforting you — request .ᐟ ✧ sfw, ot9, a bit angsty
✧ them as ass or boob person — request .ᐟ ✧ nsfw, ot9
ᯓ★ SERIES:
✧ christmas' advent calendar 2025 ✧ 25 days of ot9 content, mostly smut, each drabble/one shot contains its content warning in the description.
✧ exo and madeinmyeon's annyversary ✧ april and may scheduler with the 9 members, sfw and nsfw content
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ZHANG YIXING ꒱ˎˊ˗
ᯓ★ ONE SHOTS:
✧ angel in desguise — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: tired of his workaholic agenda, your defiant actions reveal a dominant side of yixing you craved. ✧ content: smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, mirror sex, dom!yixing x subf!reader, 2,1k words
✧ slow dance — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: the nightmare of his students was ready to lose it all before the show, and ended up getting involved too. ✧ content: smut, casual sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), mirror sex, cum shot, yixing x f!reader, 2,4k words
✧ let's cut it — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: you had a fight with your boyfriend and things ended up spicy. ✧ content: smut, rough sex, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, overstimulation, dom!yixing x subf!reader, 1,5k words
✧ behind the door — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: yixing, your boss and boyfriend, was blind of jealousy. ✧ content: smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, bondage kink, pussy slapping, oral sex (both receiving), overstimulation, dom!yixing x subf!reader, 4k words
✧ on my way to hold you tight — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: things went too far during sex and you couldn't use your safe word ✧ content: mention of sexual and bdsm themes, comfort, after care, yixing x f!reader, 1,5k words
ᯓ★ DRABBLES:
✧ cats, ice creams and... dinner? — request .ᐟ ✧ content: sfw, non idol au, fluff, girldad!yixing x gn!reader, 1,1k words
ᯓ★ HEADCANONS:
✧ type of husband — request .ᐟ ✧ +0,5 words of sfw, +0,6 words after the mdni divider
✧ type of husband — request .ᐟ ✧ +0,5 words of sfw, +0,4 words after the mdni divider
˗ˏˋ ꒰ KIM JONGDAE ꒱ˎˊ˗
ᯓ★ ONE SHOTS:
✧ let's fall in love again — request .ᐟ ✧ content: best friends to lovers, smut, praising kink, unprotected sex, jongdae x f!reader
ᯓ★ DRABBLES:
✧ put me in a headlock — request .ᐟ ✧ content: smut, fingering, choking kink, jongdae x f!reader, 0,4k words
˗ˏˋ ꒰ PARK CHANYEOL ꒱ˎˊ˗
ᯓ★ ONE SHOTS:
✧ drown in you ✧ summary: you ended up in your ex's bed. ✧ content: smut, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, ex to lovers, chanyeol x f!reader, 4,2k words
✧ at the same damn time (w/ junmyeon) ✧ summary: your noisy neighbor and his best friend share everything, even sex. ✧ content: smut, threesome, degradation, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, spanking, hair pulling, face fucking, multiple orgasms, squirting, cumshot, junmyeon x f!reader x chanyeol, 2,1k words
✧ fuck it, now i'm running with you ✧ summary: your best friend accidentally sent you a nude. ✧ content: smut, best friend to fwb, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, doggy, p i v, messy sex (spit, sweat, cum), cum shot, bigdick!chanyeol x f!reader, 3,1k words
ᯓ★ DRABBLES:
✧ don't dress up ✧ content: smut, established relationship, morning sex, unprotected sex, needy!chanyeol x f!reader, 0,6k words
✧ without you, without me ✧ summary: he was devastated by grief and didn’t want to live anymore ✧ content: angst, mention of grief, su!cide, s/a, mental disorders, 1,8k words
✧ i'm fading away, hold me — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: if he left, there was only an empty space and tears in your apartment. ✧ content: sfw, angst with happy ending, lovers to exes to ___, mention of breakup, comfort, fluff, kyungsoo x gn!reader, 2,4k words
✧ needy. — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: kyungsoo can't say no to you. ✧ content: fwb, angst, smut, drunk sex, messy sex, raw sex, masturbation, cum eating, kyungsoo x gn!reader, 2,4k words
ᯓ★ DRABBLES:
✧ sweet release — request .ᐟ ✧ content: smut, established relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, aftercare, kyungsoo x f!reader, 0,9k words
˗ˏˋ ꒰ OH SEHUN ꒱ˎˊ˗
ᯓ★ ONE SHOTS:
✧ jealousy, jealousy ✧ summary: he just wanted all your attention. ✧ content: smut, oral sex (f. receiving), possessiveness, dom!sehun x sub!reader, 2,8k words
✧ love comes back — request .ᐟ ✧ summary: sehun just wanted to protect you from the media. ✧ content: angst, established relationship, sfw, idol au, idol!sehun x idol!reader, 2,1k words
⟡ 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
very hypothetically speaking.... do you guys want ewb pt. 2? i mean, it's not really confirmed, but i'm kinda curious. what do you wanna see/read next?
↳ summary: they've always been competitive about everything, and you're no exception.
↳ wc: 3.3k
↳ genres and content: baekhyun x f!reader x chanyeol | pwp, vaguely college football au | threesome, oral (all receiving), deepthroating/mentions of choking on it, hella dirty talk, degradation, and praise, p in v (and a?), dp, brief slapping, spanking, general filth
↳ a/n: requested by anon! i don't know anything about dp for real and i know even less about american football. no one mention how the title is a tennis reference please i just thought it was cool
You hear them all the way down the hallway before you hear the jingling of the key in your door. That telltale muffled bickering grows louder and louder the closer they get, until their words become crystal clear when the door slams open.
“— you had just been paying attention then we would’ve scored that final point!”
“So fucking what? We would’ve won anyways, thanks to the touchdown that I scored in the third quarter.”
The two barrel into your entryway, hardly giving you a second glance. Baekhyun and Chanyeol, the star quarterbacks of your university’s football team, who always seemed to butt heads on and off the field. They had already showered and changed out of their gear (thank God, after showing up to your place much one too many times tracking in dirt and grass), but that didn’t mean that they left their game day mindset behind.
You clear your throat from your perch on the couch, looking up from your study notes. “Have a good game?”
Baekhyun sighs dramatically, flopping onto the cushions next to you. “It would’ve been a good game if Chanyeol was thinking about anything related to football at all in the last ten seconds.”
Chanyeol frowns, helping himself to a glass of water from your sink. “Like I was saying, I scored the winning touchdown several minutes before that. Why does it matter if we didn’t get three extra points?”
“It’s about the principle, Yeol. We only moderately beat them”. Baekhyun’s eyes glint with a mixture of annoyance and passion. “If we got those extra points we could’ve gone around saying that we beat their asses into the ground.”
“What do you think?” Chanyeol turns to you. Two pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly.
You sigh. You hate mediating whatever petty argument the two of them get up to. Frankly, you simply have better things to do with your time. But sometimes, on a night like tonight when the adrenaline is still high from their game, it’s in your best interest to stir the pot a little bit.
“I dunno, Baek, it kinda sounds like Chanyeol won the game for us.”
Baekhyun’s mouth drops open while Chanyeol smirks. He crosses over to the couch to sit on your other side and ruffles your hair affectionately. “See, Baek? Your point is meaningless.”
“It doesn’t count because you weren’t there,” Baekhyun says petulantly, bottom lip jutting out not unlike a child who’s just been told no. “You should’ve felt the rush from the crowd. They were definitely disappointed that we didn’t score.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “It’s not that serious.”
“It is that serious!” The volume of Baekhyun’s voice raises again, a renewed motivation to argue surging through him. “You know that I play better when I’m feeding off the crowd’s energy.”
“Guys, stop,” you say firmly. Instantly, they shut up, mouths snapping shut obediently. “Last time you guys fought I was getting noise complaints for days. Don’t make me regret giving you guys the spare key.”
“Sorry,” they say in unison.
“If you guys keep bickering I’m just gonna go to sleep. Or…” you say pointedly. “You could settle this a different way.”
That gets their attention. They perk up immediately, waiting for you expectantly.
“Whoever makes me cum the most in the next hour wins.”
Tension settles in the air, thick and heavy. It’s no secret to the other that you hook up with both of them. They don’t care on any level deeper than petty jealousy. But this… having you at the same time? It’s an entirely new experience, but one that you’d been fantasizing a lot lately, waiting for the right time to broach the subject.
To your delight, they look incredibly interested. Baekhyun swallows, his gaze drifting heavily from you to Chanyeol. The other mirrors his disposition; you can practically see the gears turning in his head. The two size each other up, ever the competitors, waiting for the other to make the first move.
“Or I could just say that Yeol was right—”
Baekhyun reaches out to grab your chin, tilting your head towards him. He kisses you roughly, slipping his tongue past your pliant lips, groaning when you fist a hand in his hair. To your other side, Chanyeol whines. He shoves his hand between your faces and pries you away from Baekhyun, kissing you when your lips part.
“Playing dirty already, Yeol?” Baekhyun huffs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before he pulls your attention back towards him. He ducks his head down to suck a mark into your neck, smirking against your skin when you gasp.
Chanyeol goes to unbutton your shirt, large hands fumbling with your buttons. “Shut the fuck up, Byun,” he grumbles, kissing your chest.
It’s a huge mess: hands and lips moving everywhere. You lose track of which body part belongs to who, whose hand is settling on your tits, who’s slipping their fingers past the waistband of your pajama shorts. All you know is that your head is spinning, whirling from their constant tugs for attention, and that you end up completely bare in between the two of them. You can feel just how soaked you’re starting to become, heat pooling in your core.
Baekhyun kneels between your legs, all but pulling you forward towards him as he hooks his arms around your thighs, locking you in place. Chanyeol continues to make out with you, a sharp sting blooming across your bottom lip when he nips at it, pulling the skin slightly towards him right as Baekhyun buries his face in your heat, nose bumping against your clit as he licks at you fervently.
You gasp into Chanyeol’s mouth, pulling away to look down at the sight below. Baekhyun’s staring up at you with a fire in his eyes, the kind of heat you only see from him when he’s on the field.
“Not fair,” Chanyeol says, slightly out of breath. His lips are dark and wet, eyes bearing a similar flame to Baekhyun’s.
“Too slow, Park,” Baekhyun mutters, smirking as he sinks two long fingers into your cunt. “You snooze, you lose.”
You open your mouth to scold him, but you don’t get a word out before Chanyeol’s lips descend on yours again. You whimper against him, instinctively arching into Baekhyun’s touch. His tongue dips into your hole, brushing against your walls as he strokes your clit with his thumb, skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Can we confess something to you?” Chanyeol asks, voice heated. “We hoped this would happen when we came over tonight. We made up the argument.”
“What?” you pant. “You little shits.”
Baekhyun sinks his fingers back into your wet slit, curling them against your g-spot. “Are you complaining?” he asks cheekily. “I’ll stop right now if you want me to.”
“You’re such a basta— oh fuck, Baekhyunnie,” you moan, fisting a hand in his hair. “I’m getting close.”
“Not yet,” he says. “Why don’t you help Chanyeol out, he’s getting awfully squirmy.”
Without a second to lose, Chanyeol gets rid of the rest of his clothes, moaning breathily when you spit into your other hand and begin to jerk him off slowly.
“Ah, shit,” he gasps, his hips bucking into your touch. “Just like that, baby.”
Your senses are on overdrive trying to process everything that’s happening: the sight of the two with their desirous gazes, the slick noises coming from either side, the buildup of pleasure in your body. It all becomes too much too fast, and you tip over the edge, clamping your thighs around Baekhyun’s head as you cum. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently, making you shudder with sensitivity. Chanyeol sucks a bruise right under your ear. “So beautiful, so good,” he murmurs, sending another wave of desire through you.
As soon as Baekhyun moves off of you, Chanyeol’s strong arms are pulling you up and into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, mind hazy from the afterglow of your first orgasm, as he carries you into the bedroom, Baekhyun following close behind. He tosses you onto the bed and flips you over onto your stomach, not even giving you a second to breathe before sheathing himself inside of you without preamble. You cry out, head dropping forward onto the sheets in front of you as Chanyeol immediately sets a brutal rhythm. He’s not usually so rough with you, but the buildup, not being able to touch you in the way that Baekhyun has, must have gotten to him. You can feel it in the way that he grips your hips like he has something to prove, burying himself inside of you again and again.
“Fucking impatient ass,” Baekhyun grumbles, moving to the other side of the bed so that he’s in front of you. He tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze even as he continues to talk to Chanyeol. “You literally carried her in here.”
“Shut up,” Chanyeol bites back. He tightens his grip, holding you still as he pounds into you. “Sounds like you were just too slow.”
“Why are you both— hah— talking about me like I’m not here?” you manage to say, your words coming out unsteady.
“Aw, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun coos condescendingly. “You want even more attention than you’re already getting, hm? Getting fucked into the mattress isn’t enough?”
“Jesus, Baek,” Chanyeol says. “Isn’t that a little mean?”
“She likes it.” He settles into position so that you’re laying in between his legs, his cock just inches from your face. “You don’t feel how she’s getting wetter?”
You nod frantically. “I do— I like it, Yeollie. Please, more.”
“Good girl,” Baekhyun chuckles. He lightly slaps the side of your face, not hard enough to sting, but still enough to make you gasp. “Now open up.”
You wrap your hand around the base of Baekhyun’s cock and put it to your lips, tongue darting out to lick the underside of his head. “Come on, you can do better than that,” Chanyeol says. Before you know it, his hand is on the back of your head, pushing you down once onto Baekhyun’s length before letting you go. You choke, spit dribbling down past your lips and down his cock, the momentum from Chanyeol’s thrusts pushing you deeper onto Baekhyun. Your eyes water as you struggle to adjust, but soon you settle into a rhythm.
“God, you look so good like this,” Baekhyun murmurs, reaching out to caress the side of your face, jarringly gentle for the way you’re currently being manhandled on both sides. “I don’t think she’s gonna want to go back to having us one at a time, Yeol. You should see her face.”
“Yeah?” Chanyeol grunts. “Tell me how much you like it, baby.”
You pull off of Baekhyun with a slight pop. You feel your own spit all over your bottom lip and chin, and a string of saliva connects your mouth to the tip of Baekhyun’s cock. It’s dirty, filthy, and you think that maybe you should be embarrassed but you’re not. Not in the slightest. “I love it,” you gasp, tilting your head up so you can see Chanyeol above you. “I love it so much.”
Chanyeol wraps his hand around your throat and bends down to swap a filthy kiss with you before letting you go, lowering your mouth back onto Baekhyun’s cock. You work with the rhythm that Chanyeol sets, using your hand on whatever can’t fit inside your mouth. Baekhyun’s head tips back, lips parting. He swallows thickly, reaching out a hand to settle on top of your head. “Such a good slut,” he groans. “You love being used like this, huh? You like being our little fucktoy?”
You moan instead of answering him with words, nodding your head as best as you can around his length. The salty tang of precum touches your tongue, only spurring you on further.
“Don’t take his cock out of your mouth when you cum,” Chanyeol says, one hand grabbing your shoulder for better leverage. “Wanna hear you choke on it when you do.”
His words unlock something in you, the filth coming from Chanyeol, who’s usually so restrained with his words, dripping with pure, animalistic lust in his voice. It suddenly brings about your second orgasm, your body trembling through it, your puffy, sensitive walls fluttering around Chanyeol’s length. Your voice comes out muffled and choked around Baekhyun, making him groan. He grabs at the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
Chanyeol doesn’t wait another second and slaps your ass as he pulls out, making you jolt. “C’mon, ride me.”
“Wait, hold on,” Baekhyun pouts. “It’s my turn.”
“I’m not fucking done yet,” Chanyeol says with a huff. “You can wait.”
“Quit being a dick—”
“Or you could both do it.”
They both shut up immediately, looking at you with a mixture of apprehension and arousal. “Baek in my ass,” you continue. “Yeol in my pussy.”
“Are you sure?” Baekhyun asks, all of his previous bravado melting away to show his concern. “I know we’ve— done it like that before but never at the same time.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Chanyeol chimes in.
“I’m sure,” you say. “Here, like this.”
You gently push Chanyeol onto his back and climb on top of him, slowly sinking down onto his thick length. You lean down, almost touching your chests together, arching your ass as best as you can for Baekhyun.
“Oh my God,” Baekhyun groans, settling behind you. He rubs his hands over your ass appreciatively, parting your cheeks and letting some spit dribble down onto your hole. “You look so fucking slutty like this.”
You swallow and give him the go-ahead, distracting yourself by leaving hickeys across Chanyeol’s chest. Inch by inch, Baekhyun pushes in. It’s tight, uncomfortable, but not anything you can’t handle. The three of you take shaky breaths, silent for the first time as you all adjust to the new sensations. “Look at me, baby,” Chanyeol says softly, grabbing your face with both hands. “You’re doing perfect. Such a good girl for us.”
You mewl in his grasp, arms shaking as you struggle to hold yourself up. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and the feeling is almost so overwhelming you don’t know whether to run from it or towards it. “So— so much.”
“Too much?” Baekhyun asks, voice strained. You can tell that he’s holding himself back, every muscle in his body working to stop himself from losing control, from pushing all the way in.
“No,” you gasp. “Don’t you dare stop.”
It takes a bit of time, but slowly you start to feel yourself getting used to the stretch, pleasure replacing the discomfort. You drop your head onto Chanyeol’s chest as Baekhyun starts to slide in and out.
“So fucking tight.” Baekhyun leans over and scatters kisses across your back. You feel surrounded on all sides, pressed between the two of them, the warmth of their bodies heating your skin. “How you doing, angel?”
You try to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled whine. You can’t think, much less form a proper sentence. Chanyeol tips your chin up towards him and kisses you. “Answer,” he says softly but firmly, rolling his hips upwards gently.
The dual movement makes you cry out, fingers scrambling to grasp onto Chanyeol’s shoulders. “It’s good,” you whimper. “So— fuck— please.”
“Cute,” Chanyeol chuckles. He kisses you again. “You’re so pretty when you’re wrecked.”
They begin to move faster and at the same time, making you feel so full in ways you never thought possible. The two are almost just as wrecked as you, hands and lips roaming, breath hot against your skin, mumbling praise, an endless stream of, “So good, angel,” and “Our pretty slut.” You can’t return their sentiments, at least not through words, only able to babble out a stream of incoherent words and breathy whines.
It gets to the point where they’re pounding into you, hips rolling as if they were one unit. You cry out at a particularly deep thrust, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “Fuck, I’m getting close,” you whimper.
“Who’s better?” Chanyeol whispers in your ear, cutting through all the noise.
“Wh-What?” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. Your head starts to droop forward again but Baekhyun tugs your hair back, forcing you to lock eyes with Chanyeol.
“I said, who’s better at fucking you stupid, huh?” He punctuates his point with a sharper thrust upward, making you scream. “Answer, or we won’t let you cum.”
“I— I don’t know!” you wail. The tears fall, streaming down your face. “You’re both so good, too good, fuck!”
“Goddamn, who’s being mean now?” Baekhyun says, leaving a sharp smack on your ass. “If she doesn’t want to pick, don’t make her pick.”
“I— I don’t wanna,” you whine, straining back to look at Baekhyun, his sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. “Please, Baek. I— I wanna cum.”
Baekhyun swears, hips stuttering. “Just a little longer, baby.”
You’re frantic, fingers leaving red indents on Chanyeol’s shoulders from holding on for dear life. Baekhyun reaches out and grabs your wrists, pulling them taut behind you. You sob, breathless, helplessly at their mercy but you wouldn’t want it any other fucking way. “Please,” you babble, delirious, the only thing on your mind being your need for release. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything.”
“Say who makes you feel this good,” Baekhyun hisses into your ear.
“You do! Both of you! Shit, I can’t—”
“Okay, baby,” Chanyeol grunts. “Cum for us.”
It explodes through you, white-hot and ferocious. Your vision turns spotty around the edges as it ripples through you. The two of them swear as you tighten around them, your walls fluttering, two pairs of large hands holding you still as you shudder in their grasp.
Chanyeol helps you off of them and puts you onto your back, positioning himself near your mouth. Exhausted, still shuddering through the aftershocks, you take him into your mouth, wrapping your other hand around Baekhyun.
“Not gonna last long,” Baekhyun groans, tipping his head forward.
“Me neither,” Chanyeol replies, fisting a hand in your hair.
It doesn’t take long until they both release, Chanyeol into your mouth and Baekhyun across your tits and stomach. He drags his fingers through the mess, slipping his fingers past your waiting, open lips, giving both of them a fucked-out smile. You’re spent, your limbs turning to jelly, and if you had any say in the matter you’d just sink into the mattress and be a part of the furniture forever.
“You okay?” Baekhyun asks softly, running a hand through your hair.
“Mhm,” you hum, kissing him. You turn your head towards Chanyeol to give him the same treatment. “That was insane.”
“You’re so perfect,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Let me get you some water and clean you up.”
“Get me one too?” Baekhyun asks, fluttering his eyelashes.
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and flips him off, but comes back juggling three glasses of water all the same. They both work to clean you up, whispering soft praise into your skin the entire time. Through the haze, you realize that they’ve gotten you ready for bed, and they’ve gotten ready for it as well. You’ve never done this before, spent the night with both of them, but it’s as easy and natural as though you’d done it for years.
“So who won?” Chanyeol asks.
“I thought you made up the argument,” you reply.
“No, your challenge. The one about making you cum.”
“It was a tie,” you mumble sleepily, curling into Baekhyun’s chest. “One for Baek, one for you, one for you both.”
“That’s not very satisfying,” Baekhyun frowns.
“Try again tomorrow, then,” you reply. “Now be quiet. I want to go to bed.”
Chanyeol settles into your other side, draping his warm body across your back, and the three of you drift off into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
very hypothetically speaking.... do you guys want ewb pt. 2? i mean, it's not really confirmed, but i'm kinda curious. what do you wanna see/read next?
It’s my second time reading enemies with benefits this week and let me tell you something: it’s your best work and probably one of the best ffics from tumblr! Seriously! It’s been a while since I read something this good that I’ll definitely re-read it again ^^
P.s. sorry for the anon, I’m too shy to reveal myself and I kinda sucks (non an Eng speaker at all lol)
ahhh thank youuu, thank you so much, sweetheart !! idk if it's one of the best, but i'm very proud of what i made with ewb
please, don't be shy, it really made my day to read your message. have a happy june, love <3 !!
i can't deny there are times like NOW that make me wanna delete my first fics just because i feel incapable of fixing the mess they are… the urge is so real 😭😭
A Guidebook to not Getting Rejected (With Suho, Bonus)
genre: college!au, suho x reader, smuttttt present for suho’s birthday mwaaaah 😊💓
2.8k words
bonus of this
It’s been 5 months since you first started dating Junmyeon. He had taken you out to get treats at a coffee shop and you spent the rest of the date talking each other’s ears off on the boardwalk. One date turned into 3 dates which turned into 10 dates and suddenly you were seeing each other pretty much every single chance you got. You were crazy for him and with the way his fingers were covered in your juices and knuckle deep inside you, you would like to think he was crazy for you too.
“Feels good, my baby?” Junmyeon’s voice rings against your ear. Your eyes are squeezed shut from how good his fingers feel, slipping in and out of you easily. “Hm? You can’t talk?”
“Y-Yes. It feels good.” You stutter when he curves his fingers and places his palm at your clit. You couldn’t understand how he was giving you so much pleasure all with one hand.
“You’re so cute like this.” He uses his other hand to tuck the hair on your face behind your ear and smiles. “Open your eyes for me, darling. I wanna see you cum.”
“But it feels too good, Myeonie.” You attempt to open your eyes but quickly shut them again when he applies more pressure to your clit. He tsks and removes his palm.
“My baby, what did I say?” His thumb rubs against your eyelids, begging you to open them. Your eyes flutter open to reveal a very hungry Junmyeon. His lips curve into that smile you adore. “There you are. Don’t shut them. Keep them on me.”
His palm returns to your sensitive button, circling his hand with the perfect amount of pressure while simultaneously thrusting his curved fingers into you. Your back arches against him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him so your foreheads were touching. His eyes were locked into yours, watching you slowly unfold with a single hand.
“That’s it. Cum for me, baby.” He whispers lowly when he feels your pussy throbbing in the way that tells him you’re almost there. His pace speeds up and come undone around his fingers, squeezing his digits tightly as you keep eye contact with Junmyeon. His smirk returns when you exhale the breath you were holding.
“You did so well, my love.” He lowers himself to kiss you, massaging your lips tenderly and taking the time to taste you. You gasp as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and sucks your juices. He smiles when you watch him, practically salivating. “Wanna try?”
You nod and open your mouth for him. Junmyeon places his fingers on your tongue and you close your mouth around it, tasting yourself on him.
“Look at you. So eager. What happened to my cute shy girl?” Junmyeon teases while you whine with his fingers still resting in your mouth. He pulls them out slowly, smiling proudly when you chase after them and pout when he doesn’t let you. “It’s getting late, my love. Do you wanna cuddle some more and then I’ll bring you home?”
You hate this part. You hate leaving. You wish you could just stay with him. As if he hears your disappointment, he says: “You’re more than welcome to stay. I would love to fall asleep with you in my arms.”
It’s tempting, really. But you know Stephanie would get worried. Despite you being close, your sister was weirdly uncomfortable about her baby sister’s sex life. She didn’t explicitly tell you this. But you could tell when she would call every hour or so to check on you.
“Mhmm, I don’t think I want Stephanie to freak out.” You say, giving him a quick peck on the nose. “I want to though.”
“No problem. Just let me cuddle you a little longer.” He smiles, falling to your side and flinging an arm around you dramatically, squeezing you tightly in his embrace. You giggle and turn your body to shove your face into his chest. He releases the biggest sigh and kisses the top of your head.
“I love you.” His voice comes out breathily like he mustered all of his energy into telling you this.
“Sorry?” You look up from his chest and he’s already glancing down at you with stars in his eyes.
“I love you, Y/N.” He repeats with a smile equally as bright. “You don’t have to say it back. This is just how I feel.”
Your lips curve and stretch your neck to kiss his soft pair. “I love you too.”
“Thank God.” As if you just eased all his worries, he grabs your head with both hands and kisses you a lot deeper. You don’t care that your hair is now a mess and all over the place.
Kissing your crush Kim Junmyeon like this feels like a dream come true.
The dream has to end when Stephanie finally calls to get you to come home. You whine with his lips on yours. He doesn’t stop kissing you when you answer the call, peppering your cheeks with quick pecks.
“Hi Y/N! Hi Junmyeon!” Stephanie exclaims, knowing Junmyeon is nearby. “Put me on speaker phone.”
“This is so embarrassing.” You say before listening to your older sister. Junmyeon chuckles against your skin, tickling you.
“Junmyeon~ Will you be kind enough to bring my sister home soon? Pretty please?” Stephanie uses her customer service voice, doing her best to keep light of the fact that you stayed later than your unofficial curfew.
“Of course, we were just about to leave.” Junmyeon says, grinning ear to ear as you mouth ‘liar’ to him.
“Thank you! I just miss my sister sooo much!” She says lightly, and if you didn’t know her, you would think she was genuinely missing you. You both spent enough years together to know this was her sarcasm tone.
“Awwn, I missed you more. Bye!” You respond as sarcastically as she was. “Love you!”
Stephanie laughs on the other end. “Love you more!”
Junmyeon smirks when he sees the pout on your face. He kisses the pout away.
“We’ll see each other tomorrow again. Okay? I’ll pick you up and we’ll go on a little date.” He tries to reassure you, but you shake your head.
“Can we maybe come home early to snuggle some more?”
“Whatever you like, baby.”
--------
Junmyeon takes you out to walk around a cute neighbourhood with pretty houses. He brought his film camera, another one of his hobbies you just learned about, and took as many pictures of you posing with the different coloured houses. You weren’t usually good at taking photos but Junmyeon made you feel so comfortable that it became second nature to pose for him.
As promised, Junmyeon takes you to his place early.
“I’ll make us something to eat, okay? You rest.” Junmyeon says, pulling at your waist and kissing you.
“Is it okay if I shower here?” You ask and you can tell Junmyeon is trying to keep his cuteness aggression together as he lightly squeezes your cheeks.
“Of course. My shower caddy should be on the floor somewhere.” He tells you to which you snort. His room is still as messy as the first time you stepped foot in here. He’ll be done cooking by the time you find it.
He leaves to the kitchen, leaving you on a scavenger hunt for his toiletries. You grab one of his hoodies off the floor and surprisingly find it hiding there. You take the hoodie with you to prepare for what you have planned.
It’s been 5 months since you started dating and Junmyeon has been so respectful with you, waiting patiently for you to be ready to have sex. Yes, you’ve done other things like having him eat you out and finger you, and it must sound silly, but you felt so ready to let him have all of you after last night. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about the way he said those three beautiful melodious words so effortlessly like it was as easy as breathing to love you.
And you felt the same way. You want to show him how much you did.
After your shower, you slipped into the lingerie set you had bought when you first started dating. You thought you were ready to jump right in but when Junmyeon so much as grazed your breasts, you froze. Ever since then, you’ve been going very slowly, hitting a new milestone whenever you felt ready – Junmyeon letting you take the lead. You used his hoodie that swallowed your body, covering you right above your knee, and ran across the hallway, careful not to get caught by his housemates.
You waited anxiously for him to return, blow drying your hair as quickly as possible until you heard footsteps creak up the stairs. You turned it off quickly and you get lost in your steps, not sure how to pose – should you pose? oh, you’re such a noob.
You’re a deer caught in headlights when Junmyeon comes up with two plates of pasta. He chuckles, coming to you and placing the plates on his desk, which was for once, cleared of anything else.
“Why do you look like you just got caught doing something bad?” He grabs a handful of his clothes from the chair and turns around to put them on the bed. “Come eat-”
Junmyeon drops the clothes to the floor, immediately rushing to admire you, holding you so carefully and passionately as he kisses you hungrily. You had taken his hoodie off to reveal the wild strawberry set that fit you like a glove.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” His eyes scan your face, soaking in your features into his brain to remember this moment.
“Myeonie, I’m ready.” You say, placing a hand on his wrist, stroking it with your thumb.
“Are you sure? Please don’t feel pressured because we said our first I love you’s.” He turns his hand so he’s the one holding yours now and brings it to his lips, lightly pressing on the back.
“I really want to.” Your gaze darkens, and Junmyeon gulps at the sight of his once shy girlfriend turn into his sultry princess. “Want you, Myeonie.”
“As you wish.” He says against your hand, placing one last kiss. He positions his hand on your lower back and the other at the nape of your neck before devouring your lips, kissing you like he’s famished, thirsty, hungry for you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him.
You moan against his lips when he pulls away to kiss your neck, placing wet and warm kisses from your neck to your breasts.
“You sound so beautiful, my love. Moan for me again.” He continues to suck on your neck, grabbing a fistful of your breast and squeezing it lightly. You release a light exhale, feeling your knees start to get weak – you fall on his bed.
Junmyeon towers over you, smiling fondly from above.
“Too much?” He asks with a head tilt. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
“It’s not too much.” You say, reaching for his sweatpants and pulling them down. You look up innocently to find Junmyeon practically drooling at this image. Loving the way he’s staring at you, you bite on your lip and don’t break eye contact when you pull his boxers down to reveal his throbbing member. You tap on the precum leaking out of his tip and watch the transparent liquid stretch when you pull your index away. You lick it from your finger. “Will you guide me, Myeonie?”
His dick twitches. You grin.
“Oh my love, you’re already doing so well.” He places an encouraging hand on your cheek that you lean into. You approach his dick with so many nerves in your stomach, afraid you’ll do it wrong, but you trust Junmyeon will tell you what he likes and doesn’t like. You run a long swipe of your tongue along his length. Junmyeon releases a shaky breath, running his hand across your hair with praise.
“Baby, lick your hand for me?” You listen, licking the palm of your hand. “Good girl. Now, massage here.”
He grabs your wrist and places it on his balls. He helps you massage it the way he likes, setting a rhythm for you. He hisses, “Just like that. Good job, baby.”
You lean forward and lick his tip once more to get another taste of his precum before you wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the slit. When you feel brave enough, you take in more of him. You hear Junmyeon moan and look up unintentionally. You see his head thrown back so you know you must be doing something right. You continue, sucking your cheek in and bobbing your head back and forth.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Can you spit on it for me, love?” He holds your chin in his fingers when you pull back and a rope of saliva follows. You nod and spit on his member, taking your other hand to stroke it, spreading the wetness. “Such a good listener.”
You take him back in your mouth, relaxing your jaw to take as much as you can, leaving your hand at the bottom to take care of the rest of him you can’t fit. You let the drool slip out of your mouth, using it to rub his length and balls. Junmyeon’s hold on your hair tightens. He quickly lets go when he realizes what he did, making you frown.
You look up and take him out of your mouth with a pop.
“I like it.” You snap Junmyeon out of it and he’s immediately attentive.
“What do you like baby?” He asks, wanting to please you the way you’re doing right now.
“When you pull on my hair.” Junmyeon’s jaw tightens and his eyes darken.
“Oh?” He says before he loses his hand in your hair once again, grabbing a fistful and lightly tugging on it. “Does my girl like it when I’m a little rough with her?”
You nod, “So hot.”
“Then continue, let me please my girl.” You obey taking him in again, slobbering all over his length, saliva spreading messily. Junmyeon tightens his hold on your hair and lightly moves your head in a slow rhythm. You love that he’s being so gently rough with you, turning you on even more and feeling yourself get wetter. His hips start to move in the same tempo, hitting the back of your throat. “You’re taking me so well. I’m gonna cum soon, okay? I’ll move you.”
You frown, shaking your head. You wanted to taste him just as he’s tasted you dozens of times.
“What? Darling, it’s bitter. You won’t like it.” He loosens his grip and lets you talk.
“Let me try.” Junmyeon twitches inside your mouth as you don’t stop stroking and massaging him. His member is so wet with your drool – all you can hear in the room is the sounds of your slurping and Junmyeon’s moans. You can tell he’s close by the way he squeezes your hair and how he pushes your head closer to his base, letting his cum shoot down your throat. You swallow it all while staring up at him. He strokes your hair out your face lovingly.
“How was it, baby?” He asks, always concerned he went too far. The wide smile that lights up your face is enough to reassure that he didn’t.
“Bitter.” You both laugh. Junmyeon lowers himself to kiss you and lightly pushes your back to the bed. He moves his lips to your chest, and continues south to your stomach and finally, places a peck on your heat through the lingerie.
He hooks his fingers around the lace and slowly slides it down your legs, removing it completely. He takes a quick whiff of the intricate underwear before setting it down to admire your bottom half.
“Such a pretty colour on you.” He smiles, tickling your skin. He then kisses your thigh before lapping his tongue against your heat.
“You’re so wet for me. Did sucking me off turn you on?” He teases, tongue swirling around your clit in eights. Ever since the first time you let him eat you out, Junmyeon has been slowly perfecting his craft, learning all the ways to make you cum with his mouth and fingers. He knows that you love it when he teases your clit – especially when his nose lightly grazes it. He knows that you love it when he puts his whole mouth on it and devours you like a man who just found his oasis. And he knows that you love it when he uses two hooked fingers to make you cum.
“Come on, baby. Cum in my mouth. You know how much I love it.” He glances up at you who barely has it together, hips arching into him to feel more of that blessed tongue of his. Your fingers find their way through his hair as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, pulling and pushing – unable to function anymore.
Your pussy throbs even more when Junmyeon comes up to meet your lips, rushing to let you taste yourself on his tongue. You felt his length rubbing against your thigh. It’s hard again. You can feel his tip leaking.
You desperately needed him now.
“Myeonie, please. I need you.” You whine. Junmyeon watches you squirm under him impatiently. A tongue darts out and he licks his lips hungrily. He loves seeing you like this. He can’t believe you’re the same timid girl that would shyly avoid eye contact when he tried talking to you.
“God, you’re breathtaking when you beg for me like this.” Junmyeon reaches behind you and unhooks your bra. He moves it aside to wrap his mouth around your nipple, lightly biting on it, earning a gasp from you. He chuckles at your reaction and sucks on your breast, massaging the other with his hand. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.
“Please.” You beg once more. You felt yourself get wetter every second he was swirling his tongue around you. You were feeling empty without him inside you. You needed to be filled by him.
“Tsk tsk tsk, I’ve never seen you so impatient. I think I’m spoiling you, love.” Junmyeon shakes his head before giving you a quick peck on your jaw. “I’ll go slow. But you’re so wet, I think you’ll be okay.”
He places himself at your entrance, ready to push himself into you but not before teasing you a bit, spreading your juices around with his tip. You were breathing heavily now.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?” Junmyeon checks up on you one last time before he starts pushing the tip inside of you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to your lips to distract yourself from the foreign feeling. His tongue swipes on your bottom lip and you open up to invite him in, letting him wrestle with your tongue as he slowly enters the rest of his member inside you. Junmyeon pulls back then lazily pushes back into you, moving lazily to get you used to the feeling. The moans escaping your mouth is enough for him to speed his pace up a bit. His thrusts get deeper and deeper every time. It feels so good, your nails dig into his back.
“Faster, baby.” You whine against his lips.
Junmyeon hisses, “You’re so good, so tight and wet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours as he thrusts into you a bit faster per your request. “I love you so much, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Junmyeon.” You say, bringing your lips to his for a desperate kiss. You were so deep in love with him, felt like it was impossible for you two to have once been strangers. Junmyeon peppers kisses all over your face, showering you with love.
“My sweet girl.” His rhythm is steady. He’s hitting parts of you his fingers were never able to reach, making you see stars. Your eyes shut when you feel yourself get close. Junmyeon swipes a thumb on your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes. “Uh, uh. You know I want to see those shiny eyes of yours.”
“Where do you want me to cum, my love?” He asks breathily, his pace starting to get erratic – itching for a release.
“On my stomach?” You ask shyly and Junmyeon smiles at how cute you look.
“As you wish.” He reassures you, kissing the side of your face and hiding his in the crook of your neck. You’re both a mess of moans and groans as Junmyeon gets you to your climax. He snakes his thumb onto your clit, applying pressure and rubbing it in circles.
It’s the perfect touch to reach your climax. You squeal into his ear and he rapidly catches your lips, careful not to make too much noise for his housemates. You feel yourself tighten around him and Junmyeon swears under his breath.
He quickly pulls out and strokes himself to completion, covering your stomach with his cum. He collapses on top of you and chuckles.
“God, I love you.”
chananyeol bong: ANOTHA ONE!!! heheheheheh i wanted this story to be one part but the smut didnt feel right to put it right after they got together, so bonus part!!! yayy!!! 😊💓 i hope u guys enjoyed!!!! hbd junmyeon (again)!! onto the nexttttt mwah mwah chupchup!!! 💝❤️🔥💋
↳ 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.
genre: fluffy college!au, sister's (not best) friend suho x reader, chanyeol x reader (not really)
summary: you get rejected by your crush and ask your sister for help to talk to boys </3 lots of misunderstandings and miscommunications heheheheh
7.3k words
You’re pacing back and forth in front of your sister’s room, debating in your head. This feels insanely stupid and childish. You were close to Stephanie. This shouldn’t be hard to ask.
“I can hear you drag your feet out there.” She finally calls out to you, tired of the incessant noise you were making.
“Sorry.” You open her door and carefully shut it behind you. “I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” She continues to type on her laptop. Her nails are freshly done in her classic pink shade. Her hair is curled so effortlessly. Her lash extensions look so natural on her. She’s beautiful. She’s always been so beautiful.
“Um,” You find a spot on her freshly made bed and find a plushie to hug to ease your nerves. “There’s this guy...”
The typing is put to a halt and Stephanie slowly turns around to face you, jaw dropped. You have never been interested in boys before. You asked your parents to enroll you in an all-girls high school, that’s how uninterested you were in them. Stephanie cannot believe her own ears. “Say that again.”
“Steph... Please, it’s so embarrassing.” You hide your face in the plushie.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’ve just never been into guys like that before.” She sits next to you on her bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I told a guy I liked him and...” You can’t even say it. It’s too humiliating. “He said I was too... ‘sweet’.” You groan, wishing that the memory of your crush rejecting you dissipates from your mind.
“And what’s wrong with that?” She rubs your back gently. She’s so comforting and warm, sometimes you wonder if all sisters come built like this.
You finally sit up straight and pout in her direction. She tilts her head with a consoling smile.
“Nothing’s wrong with being sweet. Kindness is a strength and anyone would be lucky to have someone as kind as you are.” She gently places a hand on your cheek. “He doesn’t know what he passed on.”
You feel like crying. She is one of the sweetest people you have ever met. She is the definition of perfection. You don’t know what you did in your previous life to deserve a sister like her.
“It’s just...” You think for a second, biting your lips nervously. “I realize I don’t think I even know how to approach guys. Can you teach me?”
Your sister’s brows rise in surprise.
“You’ve had boyfriends before and you have guy friends.” You try to explain the logic behind the thought. You watch her think for a bit, examining your pitiful state (you imagine but you know she’s too sweet to think that of you).
Then, like the fairy godmother that she is, she perks up and agrees.
You have no idea what you just signed up for.
--------
Stephanie, or as her friends call her: Tiffany, invited you to come study with her and her friends at the library. You hadn’t put too much thought into it. So, really, you should have expected this.
You were met with a room of four men and your sister. Sorry, you forgot to add a bit more context. You were met with four extremely attractive men. How your sister met all these guys. You have no clue.
“You found it!” Your sister stands up excitedly, hands settling on your shoulders. “Guys, this is my sister, Y/N. Please take care of her as if she was your own.”
She introduces you to them individually.
There was Minseok: the sports science major with fox-like eyes you wonder how many people have fallen in love with him just by staring into them, Yixing: the fine arts major who smiled sweetly at you before he went back to work, typing away on his laptop, Chanyeol: the music major with the loud voice and who was by far the friendliest and welcoming, and finally Junmyeon: the poli-sci major who immediately caught your eye – you couldn’t tear your eyes off him.
You gulp nervously when Junmyeon smiles at you, his eyes look like they're shining. You weren’t aware how beautifully handsome someone could be. You wonder if he and your sister have ever dated. You feel like they would be the picture-perfect couple.
“Sit here.” Your sister sits you beside Chanyeol who is already beaming at you. It’s kind of freaking you out. You cautiously take out your laptop and shoot him a nervous smile. Were all guys this friendly?
"You look terrified.” Chanyeol grins at you. He’s right. You are. You have never been in the same room as these many guys before. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” He says before shooting you a comforting smile and putting his headphones back on.
Curiously, you peek a glance at his screen. Your mouth opens in amazement when you see a complex looking screen with a bunch of colourful bubbles that you don’t think you’ll ever quite understand. Chanyeol feels your stare and pauses his work. “Do you want to hear?”
You nod timidly. He smiles and puts the headphones over your ears. He presses play for you, biting on his lip in anticipation. Your eyes immediately widen in amazement. His voice was the perfect mix of smooth and raspy. Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“You made that?” You can’t tell if you’re yelling but Chanyeol is laughing at you and you can’t help but smile back. Interacting with a man seems easy. He nods, shoulders shaking from laughing. “It’s really good!”
Chanyeol loses his shit and throws his head back before taking the headphones off.
“Sure, Chanyeol, destroy my sister’s hearing.” Tiffany says sarcastically before she turns back to Junmyeon who laughs subtly through his nose. She listens intently to him as he gets serious again and explains a concept to her. You watch as his lips purse as he talks – pink and glossy, likely from the constant licking he was doing from talking so much. Your sister doesn’t even look at him when he explains. It’s blowing your mind. This is the first time you are seeing your sister do something wrong. Because Junmyeon looks absolutely stunning. You don’t think you would even be able to concentrate if he was your tutor. You don’t even notice that Chanyeol is asking you a question.
“He’s handsome, huh?” Chanyeol leans in closer so only you could hear him. You jump in your seat and almost fall off when you see how close he is to you. He catches you before you fall.
“What did you think of my song? It’s my final project.” He asks as if he didn’t just catch you ogling his friend.
"I-It was really good!” You stutter like an idiot. You make the mistake of glancing at Junmyeon and your sister who are both staring at you with concern. Of course they are. They’re perfect people. Perfect people who check on the condition of others.
You avert your attention back to the comforting presence that is Chanyeol.
“Ohh! Thank you! I’m so glad you like it.” He cheers and grabs something from his pocket. “Here, have a candy.”
“Are you Pavlov-ing her to like your music?” Junmyeon finally talks loud enough for you to hear and your ears melt. His voice is soft but not in the way that makes him look weak, more in the way that makes people want to listen to what he has to say. But most importantly, you melt because he’s funny too.
“No! She genuinely likes it. Right, Y/N? You’re not lying to be polite?” Chanyeol looks at you expectantly, head tilted playfully with big eyes staring into you.
“N-No! I would never!” You shake your head quickly and turn to Junmyeon to show him that you do enjoy Chanyeol’s music.
When you do, your hearts races.
He’s fully smiling at you, eyes crinkled into crescent moons, wrinkling the corners of his eyes beautifully. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone smile so brightly like that before.
“I’m just teasing, Y/N.” He laughs it off before returning his attention to your sister.
The heavy feeling in your chest returns as you spend the entire study session sneaking glances at your sister and Junmyeon.
--------
Stephanie’s first step in her guidebook to getting familiar with men is a success. She’s happy to see that Chanyeol has made an impression on you.
“Oh, hey Chanyeol. What’re you doing in my kitchen?” She asks in her pink silk set and matching fluffy pink slippers. She just woke up, yet she looks so put together.
“Chanyeol and I are going to go for a run!” You exclaim, blender in hand.
“That explains the headband.” She taps Chanyeol’s head teasingly before she clicks on the kettle to start boiling her water. Stephanie has a glass of warm water every morning, says it’s good for her metabolism and gut health.
Your sister takes care of her body with a fragility and femininity touch, focusing on what feels right for her body. You take care of your body by putting it through heavy lifting and tracking your macros.
Stephanie does pilates and spin while you powerlift and jog.
“That’s good. You finally found a jogging buddy.” She scrunches her nose at you, booping it affectionately. “Chanyeol, I didn’t know you ran.”
"Not as fast as Y/N.” He smiles in your direction as you pour your magic smoothie that boosts your energy before a run. He has a taste of the green coloured mix, still skeptical. You watch the light in his eyes return and his ears perk up realizing that you haven’t poisoned him. “This is delicious!”
Chanyeol chugs the rest of the drink while you giggle, pouring yourself a glass.
Stephanie stops the kettle midway as not to get to a boil and eyes you both as she drinks her warm water.
“Hm...” She hums, small smile appearing on her lips.
“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“Nothing.” Her grin doesn’t get any smaller.
Weird.
--------
Stephanie had texted you that the group would be meeting at the same study room you’ve all grown accustomed to. You arrive a lot earlier than the others, opting to study a bit more before you had to be in the same room as Junmyeon. You were in for another distracted session for sure.
You find a spot on the couch near the room that’s still being used by other students. You check the time and pull the tiny coffee table closer to you and get settled. There’s still lots of time to get some work done. You manage to get a head start on your final essay at the end of the semester, drafting the structure and topics you want to highlight. Maybe you should do a bit more of the reading too.
A hand waves in your face, disturbing the current flow state you were in.
You raise your gaze at the culprit in annoyance, brows furrowed.
They quickly raise in surprise instead when you see Junmyeon’s bright smile directed at you. Your mouth is slightly agape. Your hand shakily moves your headphones from your ears, wrapping your neck instead. It’s a bit hard to breathe when he’s looking at you so prettily.
“Can I sit with you?” Junmyeon gestures the empty spot next to you and you scooch a bit to make space.
“O-Of course! Come sit!” You feel like hitting yourself on the head. If Stephanie was here, she would 100% be giggling to herself with how ridiculous you’re acting around him. But how can you act normally when he smells like a fresh basket of laundry and his smile is bright enough to light the city?
“Looks like there’s still people in there.” He makes small talk as he situates himself beside you. He gets comfortable in his seat. He’s wearing the university’s hoodie paired with baggy denim jeans. It’s a simple outfit most people throw on lazily but on him, it looks curated and intentional like he was going for the college boyfriend look. You must be going crazy. Junmyeon’s chuckle breaks you from your reverie.
“Sorry? I wasn’t listening.”
“I figured. I was asking what you were working on.” He’s amused by you. You would too if someone acted a fool around you.
“Oh.” You say, as if you couldn’t believe he would be interested in what you were doing. “My final essay for intro to psych. I was just drafting it. I figured I’d start early so I don’t rush it later.”
“Psych?” He tilts his head. “I thought you were a Kinesiology major.”
You’re surprised he knows this. He’s never asked you this before. Stephanie probably told him when introducing you to the group.
“It’s just an elective my advisor suggested.” You shrug. It wasn’t your first choice but you were growing to like it. It’s just a course to get through the first semester.
“I took it my first semester too. Let me see.” He scoots closer to you and turns your laptop slightly to see your notes. The whole library probably heard the sharp breath you just took the second he got close to you. “Relax, I’m not going to judge.”
He scoffs at your reaction; the edge of his lip rising in amusement. You wonder if the library also hears how loud your heart is racing right now.
“Colour-coded notes... Cute.”
Your hand flies to your mouth to cover the ridiculous smile growing on your face. Your cheeks were burning and hurting. You look around the library, anything other than Junmyeon’s unnecessarily perfect and smooth face and pursing lips as he concentrated to read your notes. Your eyes set sight on Chanyeol and you can’t help but feel relief, letting go of the breath you were holding.
“Chanyeol!” You exclaim, jumping up to greet him. He raises an arm for you and you give him a side hug.
“Hey Y/N.” His smile eases the tension built in your chest. “Hey Junmyeon. Were you guys studying together?”
Junmyeon slowly leans away from your laptop and gives Chanyeol a small nod. “I was just looking at her notes.”
“Ah.” Chanyeol says, shifting his eyes between you two. “The study room’s empty if you guys want to move in there.”
Junmyeon nods politely, closing your laptop. He grabs it and your backpack too.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” You reach to take your stuff from him but he pulls it slightly away, insisting.
“It’s right there, Y/N. I got it.” He reassures you with that warm smile of his.
If the library didn’t hear your heart before, you’re sure they’ve heard it now.
--------
“I don’t know about this, Steph...” You pull down on Stephanie’s skirt she lent you for this party.
“It’ll be fun! Chanyeol will be there.” Your sister hooks an arm around yours excitedly. She’s like a puppy the way she yaps and jumps around you.
“Okay?” You raise an eyebrow at the mention of Chanyeol. You didn’t want him to see you like this either.
“All I’m saying is this could be the perfect opportunity to practice how you flirt with guys.” She explains, dragging you to the front entrance where a line has already been formed to get in.
“It’s a frat house.” You say, scanning the crowd of beautiful women and attractive men. She is throwing you into the ocean and you can’t even swim.
“They’re normal guys too, you know.” She senses your judgement.
“No, they’re not! They drink and party, probably do keg stands too!” You try to say it as lowly as possible as not to offend literally everyone here tonight.
“Not all of them.”
“Name one.”
“Junmyeon.”
“Oh.”
“Tiffany! Y/N! Come inside!” Minseok’s voice disrupts the moment, waving for you both to come in. You hear a bunch of groans and complaints behind you that you will choose to ignore. Of course your sister had an in to this party. You just didn’t know it would be because of the same boys you formed a study group with.
“Just try to have fun. If you feel uncomfortable, find me or Chanyeol.” It’s the last thing she says before she’s being dragged in all sorts of directions by different people. You don’t even get the chance to respond. This is her second time mentioning Chanyeol. Did she like him or something?
The reminder sets off something in your head and you’re met with the realization that you really don’t want to be here. Your skirt was way too short. There were too many people screaming, drinking and dancing. You just don’t fit in.
You try scanning the crowd for Chanyeol but you don’t find that giant head of his anywhere. Feeling hopeless, you go up the stairs. It might be a bit quieter there. Without thinking, you open the first door you see.
“Oh, sorry!” You say when you see a pair of legs on a bed.
“Y/N?”
You freeze at the door then come to your senses when Junmyeon leans forward, guitar on his lap. He waves you in with a smile on his face. He removes his headphones and puts his guitar back on the stand. You enter, closing the door behind you.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” You apologize and sit at the edge of his bed, pulling on your skirt before it rides any further. His room is a bit messy which was not what you expected of him. He just seems like such a clean guy – he does smell like one after all.
There was a chair with a bunch of clothes on it. There were also a bunch of rock posters plastered on his walls: The Beatles and Coldplay for instance. You thought he’d be more into classical music or maybe musicals. Something classy. He is full of happy surprises.
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. He gets up from his bed and grabs a hoodie and sweatpants from the pile of clothes. “You look uncomfortable. Do you want to borrow these?”
Your heart races once again.
You nod and Junmyeon hands you his clothes before turning around to let you change. You wear the sweats over your crop top and skirt. It smells so ridiculously like him. You take one last sniff before sitting criss-cross on his bed, a lot more comfortable now.
“You play guitar?” You try to avert your attention from the overwhelming feeling in your chest.
He turns around, hearing you get on his bed. He’s staring at you with a glint in his eyes. His cheekbones pop out when he grabs the guitar again.
“Yeah! Do you want to hear?” He sounds so excited to show you, grabbing the headphones and handing them to you. You smile and let him put them over your ears instead - his fingers brushing over your red ears. You’re glad your hair is covering them.
“Tell me if it’s too loud.”
You nod, biting on your lip unconsciously. The more you got to know him, the more your attraction for him grew. He was different from your expectations in the best way possible.
He starts playing a beautiful riff. There is something about the electric guitar that makes it sound as sensual as it is romantic. You stop yourself from leaving your mouth agape, biting on your cheek nervously. There’s a pit growing in your stomach that you’ve only ever felt once in your life when you read a explicit book for the first time. You avoid eye contact with him when he stops.
“Was that bad? You didn’t seem to like it.” Junmyeon’s smile is present, but his brows show you that he seems a bit embarrassed.
"No!!” You shake your head vigorously and finally meet his eyes. It’s taking a lot in you not to cry, finding it frustrating that you don’t know how to be comfortable around him. “It was genuinely beautiful. I’ve never heard that song before.”
“Oh, thank you. I wrote it.” He tells you casually.
This man can’t be real.
“You wrote that? You’re so talented! Why aren’t you in music with Chanyeol?” You ask in disbelief. He shrugs, leaning forward to help you take off the headphones.
“It’s just a hobby. I want to be a lawyer.” He places the blue strat back on the stand next to his bed and leans against the headboard. The image is a bit too much for you. Seeing him in an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants feels too intimate. You stare into his eyes, distracting yourself from how good he looks sprawled out on his bed.
“Ohh, well I think you’re really gifted.” You compliment him one more time. “What other hidden talents do you have?”
He laughs, his eyes smiling at you brightly once again. “You’re cute.”
You swoon. You’re shocked you haven’t fallen off his bed over that comment.
Maybe it’s because making him laugh feels like one of your greatest accomplishments. You hope you can make him laugh over and over again so you can hear that beautiful sound nonstop.
“Just the one. What about you? Can you play?”
“No, no. I only listen to music. I can’t make it.” You wave your hands embarrassingly. You don’t really have hobbies, unless you count the gym as one.
“Sure you can. Here, I’ll show you.” He moves off the bed and nudges you to turn your body to the left. You follow, letting your legs fall off the bed. He places the guitar on your lap and crouches in front of you. His fingers wrap around your wrist and places them on the neck.
“Relax your fingers.” He taps twice on your knuckles and for the first time tonight, he eases your tension even with the next thing he says. “Good girl.”
He does all the work, placing your three fingers on three strings in a row. There’s something so calming with the way he touches you. He’s being so gentle with you.
“Strum.”
You listen to him, strumming the guitar with your thumb like you see musicians do all the time. You’re shocked to hear a cohesive sound.
“Woah.”
“Not bad, right?” He beams as he looks up at you with those dark and glossy eyes. You’ll probably dream of them tonight.
“No. It was really fun-”
“Junmyeon, have you seen-”
Your head turns to see Chanyeol at the door, holding onto the doorknob. He blinks once, twice, before saying something.
“... Y/N.” He finishes his sentence with a blank stare. You’ve never seen him like this before. Chanyeol was always so perky and happy to see you.
“Hey Chanyeol! Junmyeon was just teaching me a chord.” You say innocently, not putting too much thought into it. Junmyeon stands up from the ground and that’s when you see Chanyeol’s eyes widen ever so slightly.
“You’re wearing his clothes.” He says, completely ignoring what you just said.
“She looked uncomfortable, so I lent her some clothes. I hope that’s okay.” Junmyeon clears up any misunderstanding for you.
“Of course it’s okay.” Chanyeol’s usual tone and facial expression returns. “Your sister is looking for you.”
“Ah.” You try to put the strat back on the stand but Junmyeon grabs it for you. “Thank you for spending time with me, Junmyeon.”
“No, thank you. Good night, Y/N.”
You shoot him one last smile before disappearing behind the door and back into the loud party with Chanyeol. Your heart is still in disbelief of what just happened.
Chanyeol escorts you to the kitchen where Stephanie is talking to some other friends. She finally sees you by Chanyeol’s side and tilts her head curiously with a sly smile. You wonder what she’s up to with that mischievous grin on her face.
“Hi Y/N~” She says with a little playful tone. She must be tipsy. She suddenly looks up at Chanyeol with the brightest smile. “Thanks, Chanyeol, for bringing my sister to me~”
“It’s no problem.” He replies, tone still a bit different than you’re used to.
Stephanie hooks her arm around yours with the same cheeky grin she’s been sporting since you got here.
“I’m so happy for you!” She randomly squeals in your ear, making you laugh at how silly she’s being.
“Happy for what?” You indulge her, just happy that she’s happy.
“Come on, you’re wearing Chan-”
“SHOTS!!” Yixing comes out of nowhere with a tray full of tiny cups and shoves them in our faces. Your sister grabs two: one for her and another for presumably you. She doesn’t say much, only winking at you and downing the drink.
You follow her lead and immediately gag at the awful taste and burn in your throat.
You wish you could sneak back into Junmyeon’s room and learn the guitar just a bit longer.
--------
You can’t stop thinking about Junmyeon. Even as you’re highlighting notes in your textbook, you don’t halt your thoughts for a second. The way his fingers were delicately touching yours. The way he smiled when you complimented his song. And the way he noticed immediately how uncomfortable you were in Stephanie’s clothes. Junmyeon was making it insanely hard to get over this silly crush on him.
“Y/N.” Chanyeol calls your name and your bubble bursts. He smiles when he sees you come back down to Earth. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” You say, adding the cap back on the highlighter and put all your attention onto him.
“It’s a bit out there. And I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.” Chanyeol looks really nervous. He’s rubbing his pen with his thumb and you can feel his leg shaking under the table.
“It won’t. I can’t afford to lose a jogging buddy.” You joke, taking a sip from your bottle.
“I just want to make sure I’m not reading this wrong. But do you like Junmyeon?”
Caught off guard, you choke on your drink. You tap your chest to clear the liquid from your throat. Chanyeol also helps, patting your back.
“W-What- How did you?”
“You’ve liked him since the day we all met, right?” Chanyeol cuts you off. He’s looking at you expectantly like he’s being a good cop and you’re the criminal he’s interrogating. “I can tell by the way you look at him. And I’m saying this to you as a friend who wants to give you advice - which you can take or not of course.”
You didn’t know you were being that obvious around Junmyeon.
“You should tell him how you feel.” Chanyeol’s eyes soften and he looks... sad? He isn’t - hasn’t been his usual jolly self since the party and you’re unsure why.
“But what if he rejects me? Like the other guy? I’m so scared, Chanyeol.” Your gaze lowers to your hands on your lap. This is embarrassing. Chanyeol was able to read you at first glance and you were still stuck in square one, unable to talk to your crush without dysfunctioning and having your heart jump out of your chest.
“You won’t know how he feels until you tell him. You have to tell people how you feel when you feel them, Y/N.” He stops and thinks for a second before resuming. “Otherwise... You might miss out on other opportunities.”
“I can’t even be myself with him. I get so nervous and jittery. I’m not ready.” Your head falls onto your textbook in embarrassment. “I just want to be as calm with him as I am with you.”
Chanyeol scoffs and makes you turn your head so your cheek was on a page and you were facing him instead.
“I promise you you’ll get there with time. That’s just what having a crush feels like.” He pats your head gently and smiles at you comfortingly. You could always count on him to cheer you up.
You straighten yourself and go for a hug. “Thank you so much Chanyeol.”
It takes him a second before wrapping his arms around you tightly. His head rests at the top of your head while his hand rubs your back.
“Don’t mention it.”
The hug is cut short when you hear the door to the study room open.
“Oh, sorry we didn’t mean to interrupt.” Stephanie comes in with the same twinkle in her eye as that time at the party. Junmyeon is right behind her. He shoots you a faint smile before shifting his eyes to the floor, not even greeting you or Chanyeol with enthusiasm like he usually does.
Did you offend him somehow?
Maybe you accidentally said something at the party. You think hard to that night. But nothing comes to mind. You thought Junmyeon and you had a really good time for the short time you were together.
You purse your lips, trying not to let it get to you. What if you missed the window of opportunity like Chanyeol warned you?
“Oh shoot. I forgot my textbook in my locker. I’ll be right back.” Stephanie says as she rummages through her purse. “It’s so far though…”
“I’ll walk with you.” Chanyeol stands up and follows your sister out the door, passing you with a comforting pat on your back. You exhale as you realize what he’s doing.
Your eyes follow Junmyeon as he sits in his usual spot across from you. He’s still quiet, refusing to look at you.
A thought crosses your mind.
“Um, Junmyeon…”
He lifts his head instinctively, finally meeting your eyes. You can tell he’s silently regretting it. There’s a gloomy look in his gaze and you really want to make him feel better.
“I just wanted to thank you for lending me your clothes on Friday. It was really nice of you.” You clear your throat to calm the nerves. Somehow you’ve convinced yourself that the reason he won’t reply and probably hates you is because you haven’t returned his clothes yet. “I promise I’ll get them back to you. I just wanted to wash them first.”
“There’s no need for that.” Junmyeon’s smile returns but it’s too polite… too nice. It doesn’t feel like him. His genuine smile is contagious and warm, not cold and foreign. His gaze goes back to his laptop as yours don’t leave his form.
You’re pouting now. This somehow feels worse than the first time you got rejected. Probably because you actually know the guy this time.
You have to tell people how you feel when you feel them.
“Junmyeon!”
His eyes widen and he’s staring at you all freaked out. You don’t think you’ve ever raised your voice at anyone before.
“I- I-” The confidence is quick to fade away but you have to keep going. “I like you. And I’m sorry if I’ve offended you somehow but I thought we got along really well on Friday and- and whatever it is you have a problem with, please tell me now because I’m going crazy here.”
Junmyeon stares at you in what you think is a look of disbelief.
“Or don’t. Please ignore what I said.” You sit back down and focus on your laptop, moving your cursor all over your screen, not necessarily clicking on anything.
“You like me?” He breaks the silence, lips curving into a smile.
But it’s quick to leave his face. And there’s a pit growing in your stomach.
“Yes.” You say nervously, biting on your lip. It feels like an eternity waiting for him to say anything else. He’s thinking really hard, you can tell by the way he purses his lips. The face is all too familiar. It’s the same face your first crush had when he was rejecting you. You want to bury yourself under a bunch of sand and let the ocean take you out with a big wave. “I-It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I won’t take it personally-”
“Wait, no.” Junmyeon’s eyes shift to you then to the door. “Um, come.”
Before you knew it, Junmyeon grabs your wrist and pulls you up and out of the study room, leaving all your belongings behind.
“My laptop...” You pout as he brings you to one of the empty aisles of the library.
“They’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” Junmyeon comforts you but it’s not enough to ease the anxiety that’s blown out of proportion inside of you. You just want to shake out the rejection from his mouth. He brought you here so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of your friends. That must be it. You’re Stephanie’s inexperienced younger sister, of course he wouldn’t want you-
“Listen,” He starts and you hold your breath. “You’re really nice and sweet.”
Here it comes.
“I just... want you to think about this a little bit more. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. You’re just getting over a different guy. I don’t want to rush into things so quickly...” He says a bit too fast, like he’s trying to get rid of the words and get this over with. He’s looking at you with a softened gaze like he’s handling a dried bouquet of flowers and trying not to make a mess before he throws it into the trash.
“Oh, no worries. I get it.” You wave him off like it’s no big deal; the sting in your eyes burning extra hard. The shake in your voice isn’t hard to ignore either. “I’m sorry for making things weird.”
“Y/N... Wait, that’s not-” He tries to reach for you but you retreat first.
“No, really, it’s okay.” You force a smile before turning back and rushing to the study room. The tears come out a lot easier than it is to stop them.
You open the door and are met with four pairs of eyes staring at you.
Stephanie is the first to get up and check on you. You dodge her and grab your things, slinging your bag onto your shoulder before you head to the door.
“Y/N? What’s wrong? Where’s Junmyeon?” You hear Chanyeol’s voice behind you and his chair screech to check on you too. Overwhelmed, you leave the room and head anywhere else.
“Y/N, slow down.” Your sister is quick to follow you. She’s always been fast to be by your side. You don’t slow your pace though, walking even faster so she doesn’t see the tears running down your face.
So she follows. She’s with you the only way you’re letting her.
She trails behind you when you finally walk out the doors of the university and stop, unsure where to go next. She places a hand on your back and pulls you in for a side hug.
“Come, my car’s this way.” She says, pulling you in the direction of her parking spot. It’s not a far walk but it’s enough to calm you down from the heightened emotions.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N. So I can help you.” She asks when you finally get inside her car, giving you a moment to settle your breath before speaking.
Stephanie’s voice is filled with warmth and comfort. She feels like the sun and you can’t help but look her way.
“I confessed to my crush.” You tell her shyly. “And he rejected me. Again.”
You can’t believe you let this happen again.
She frowns.
“But you came in crying and Chanyeol was in the room.”
It’s your turn to raise your eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, unsure what she’s hinting at.
“Your crush? Isn’t it Chanyeol?” She asks like you’re the one who is lost.
You blink at her, once, twice.
“… Junmyeon. I told Junmyeon I like him and he rejected me.”
You can see the horror flash in Stephanie’s eyes and she covers her mouth.
“What?” You ask, mirroring her reaction. “Why’s this so hard to believe?”
“I’ve… I’ve been telling Junmyeon how you’ve been crushing on Chanyeol…” She says quietly, voice low and ashamed of what she’s done. You frown. When have you ever told her you were into Chanyeol?
You’re just getting over a different guy. Suho’s voice rings in the back of your mind. And that sentence finally starts to make sense to you. You thought he was talking about the first guy who you were definitely over.
“Y/N… I am so sorry. I can fix this!” Stephanie immediately goes on her phone and starts typing on her phone.
“Steph, what are you doing?” You watch as she nervously types, erases, types and erases.
“I’m texting Junmyeon right now.” She says frantically. You’ve never seen your sister so stressed out before.
“What? Why?” You take her phone and delete the message. “He doesn’t like me! That's not going to change.”
She steals her phone back and puts it away on her lap.
“No, Y/N, I think he does.” She deadpans.
“I was so fixated on you and Chanyeol. I didn’t put two and two together that you would be interested in Junmyeon. Oh god, I think I made a mess.” She continues. Her face is mixed with embarrassment and an eagerness to share her new-found revelation. “But Junmyeon definitely likes you.”
You don’t even know how to respond to her. She must have lost her mind. As if she sees the confusion on your face, she persists.
“He’s always asking about you.” She insists.
“Stop lying. He’s just being nice.”
“No, before I introduced you to the guys, he’s never once asked how my sister was, what your major was, what your schedule was or if we were meeting with you and the study group - even though I’m pretty sure you’re very comfortable talking to the opposite sex now and the study group is very much not needed anymore.” Stephanie looks very serious and… convincing. You can’t tell if this is just Stephanie’s communications bachelor’s talking.
“Y/N, how exactly did he reject you?”
You fold your lips into your mouth nervously.
Now that you think of it… You can’t remember the exact words.
It felt like a rejection.
Stephanie sees the hesitation in your face and for the first time, you see your sister get annoyed with you.
“We’re fixing this.”
--------
Stephanie has you pacing back and forth in front of Junmyeon’s fraternity house. She had dropped you off under the premise that you were going to a cute coffee shop to study for the upcoming midterms.
It’s been 15 minutes and she still hasn’t returned. She really did abandon you at the front steps like some stray cat. You feel your stomach turn as you approach the door. With a big gulp, you ring the doorbell.
You release the tension from your shoulder when Minseok opens the door with a bright smile.
“Y/N! Tiffany said you’d be stopping by.”
Your shoulders tense up again. You hope she didn’t tell them anything. Although, they did see you walk into the room with tears in your eyes. It would be weird if they hadn’t figured it out on their own.
“Junmyeon’s the first to the right.” He invites you in and throws a hand in the direction of the familiar room. So he does know. Great.
“He hasn’t really talked to any of us about what happened. Just been cooped up in his room playing the guitar.” Minseok pats you on the back and lead you to the stairs. “Just talk to him.”
You nod and find your way up the stairs that brought you to him the first time. You open the door to find him in the same position, legs straight on the bed, his cute feet covered in socks and moving to the rhythm of his music. You peek your head through to let yourself be seen but find his eyes closed and headphones on. Unsure how to approach this, you shut the door a little harder than you would usually.
He doesn’t budge, still strumming along the blue strat.
You bite your bottom lip and do the unthinkable.
You tickle his foot.
Junmyeon almost kicks you, eyes wide in surprise. Once it registers that it’s you, his body relaxes and he rushes to take off his headphones.
“I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” He comes to your side and inspects you for any damage he might have done.
“You didn’t even touch me.” You reassure him, offering him a small smile. You don’t let him say another word before you let yourself ramble.
“Junmyeon, I came to say I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I rushed out of there and didn’t let you finish. I really do enjoy spending time with you and I hope that we can still stay friends. And maybe you can still teach me the guitar?” You finally say the words you had been practicing in your head this whole week. The heavy weight on your chest has finally been lifted and your conscience is now cleared. It’s now up to Junmyeon to accept being your friend. You wait for him to smile and say no worries, let’s just forget alllll about it. And you can try to move on from his beautiful brown eyes that disappear when he smiles.
“But I don’t want to be friends.” He frowns.
And the heavy feeling returns.
“Oh.”
“No, no.” He approaches you, hands reaching your sides awkwardly as if he didn’t want you to run off in tears again. “Please don’t misunderstand. I like you. Like, really really like you.”
“Oh.” You were so ready for him to reject you kindly that this didn’t feel like an actual option. You didn’t think Stephanie would be right, but of course she was. It’s Stephanie.
“Please stop saying oh.” He bites onto his lip nervously, almost looking like he’ll cry right then and there.
“I’m sorry. I’m just having such a hard time believing any of this is real. But that’s my problem not yours.” You say, backing away from his hold.
Junmyeon pulls you in for the hug, wrapping his arms around you and refusing to let you run away again. It takes you a couple seconds to react but you snake your arms around once you’ve come to your senses that Kim Junmyeon is hugging you. You rest your cheek against his chest and you smell the familiar scent of his laundry you’ve grown addicted to. You feel his every tense muscle soften around your body.
“I’ve liked you ever since you walked into that study room looking all nervous to meet a bunch of guys. To be honest, when Stephanie first approached me, I thought it was a bit weird. We had only been study partners, and suddenly, she wants me to help her with her inexperienced sister.” He pulls away a bit so he can look at you as he confesses to you how he feels. Your heart stops when his lips curve into a smile and he laughs at the memory of Stephanie being Stephanie and doing the most to help you.
“But when you were yelling at Chanyeol with those headphones on, I was hooked. You looked so cute. I couldn’t wait to talk to you. I wanted to know more. I’ve never felt so curious about a person before.” He admits, resting a gentle hand on your cheek. “I couldn’t understand how someone so cute could ever get rejected.”
You gulp when his eyes flicker to your lips.
“Cute.” He mutters to himself before kissing your cheek and making your face unintentionally burn up. “So no, I don’t want to be just friends with you, but I would love nothing more than to take you out on a date and take our time getting to know one another.”
Your heart races at an impossible speed.
“And maybe guitar lessons?” You manage to mutter out like an idiot.
Junmyeon’s smile quickly morphs into the one you love so much, brightening the room and warming your heart.
“Maybe.”
Unable to contain your happiness, you return the smile and give him a quick peck on his lips.
“Well, it’s a definitely, now.”
✰ bonus ova here ✰
chananyeol bong: y/n is sucha big fluff ball omfg shes so oblivious that two men are fighting for her affection. if only that was meeeeee </3 (not really i would hate that) i hope you guys enjoy!!!! this was supposed to be 2k words MAXXXX but idk i let the writing gods take the wheel on this one. 🙏🏼😊 there's going to be a part 2 but the story is basically done!! part 2 is just a bonus for us!! 💓💘
and of course a happy early birthday to kim junmyeon!!! ilysm ty for being the rock of the family you sweet sweet boy!!! 🥹😭💖💗💌💘
⟡ 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.
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