people!! let me reiterate something for you, yeah?
you are not “shaming” writers to do anything when you flag their posts. you’re ruining their interactions. which will go down even with the community labels. because for some reason those flagged posts just don’t show. even for people who have the community labels enabled.
you’re just making this space where writers share their content become miserable because you’re making them feel bad about their craft.
you’re telling me that a writer who usually gets 1K went to 200 notes and that’s fair?? do you have any idea how harmful that is?
you’re going to force writers to stop writing on this app.
you’re going to have writers deactivate.
interactions are dropping again. as a whole.
STOP 👏🏻 MAKING 👏🏻 THINGS 👏🏻 DIFFICULT 👏🏻
there’s no way to stop minors from doing what they want to do. the wise ones actually steer clear the moment they see “minors dni” and a community label won’t change that. because guess what? you can turn on the option that allows you to view it.
it’s nobody’s job on here to babysit children. writers give disclaimers and warnings and that’s more than enough. this isn’t a kid’s app. and minors have a whole community of sfw writers to follow. they don’t have to follow people who write mature content. they can block writers they don’t want to see in the tags. in fact, most nsfw writers block minors the moment they see them!
flagging posts is entirely unhelpful to the writing community and i will not have it! stop trying to ruin a good thing so many of us have been fighting for. interactions were finally getting good on this app and you decide to pull this shit.
“i want minors to be minors” — um, literally you can go to a bookstore and buy a book with nsfw scenes. and nobody stops you. minors are being minors online. a lot of them stick with people their own age. and this form of filtering isn’t helping anyone. when i had my community labels disabled all the post said was “this post has a community label, would you like to view?”. like– how is that any different from a keep reading link? y’all do too much. stop being so performative.
you aren’t the hero you think you are. i promise you that.
snippets of chan sharing you with each of his boys for the first time
pairings: skz x afab!reader
warnings: smut!!!!🔞 multiple partners, threesomes, unprotected sex, protected sex, daddy kink, exhibitionism, smidges of mxm but nothing too serious, oral (f & m receiving), wet and messy, finger sucking, gagging, little bit of spit play, cum swallowing, light degradation, phone sex, slight voyeurism, pussy jobs, mutual masturbation, pet play, hair pulling, loss of virginity, spanking, whole lotta tags for a whole lotta boys!
notes: well.... i did it! inspired by chan's section in this post of mine since literally one singular person asked for it. this is just straight up NASTY.. you're welcome?? or sorry?? idk but anyways im abt to post this and then dip so i can sleep. pls enjoy!!! <3
chan
“baby, tell me,” he whispers into your cheek. you’re on your back and he’s on his side facing you, a strong thigh thrown over yours that’s closest to him. he’s had his hand in your panties for the past thirty minutes, and it’s got your brain leaking out of your ears. “here, let’s take these off, yeah?”
he sits up, his hand finally leaves your panties so that he can drag them down your hips and have you kick them off with your foot. chan settles back down beside you, propping his head up on his palm and bringing his other hand back to your cunt to play.
you’re so worked up you could cry. you could scream, but it’s your own doing. you know all you have to do is tell your boyfriend what’s on your mind. he tells you just that.
chan leans down to kiss your neck before murmuring against your skin.
“all you have to do is tell me, love. i want to give it to you, hm?” you slowly nod your head and wrap your hand around his forearm. when you turn to look at him, he meets you halfway for a kiss. it’s sweet, nothing more than a press of your lips together, but yours are quick to drop open in a yelp when chan pinches your clit between his fingers. chan takes this opportunity to lick into your mouth and does his best to swallow the noises you can’t seem to stop making.
he can tell you’re about to cum when you start to hump his hand, thighs shaking. chan smiles against your lips and gets you there, but right before you can tumble over the edge he removes his hand and trails it up your stomach to circle your belly button gently. the whine that leaves your mouth is pathetic, desperate, and you can’t help but bring your own fingers to your pussy to pick up where he left off. chan is quick to grab your hand and pin it to your side, dropping a swift smack to your cunt in retaliation that makes you cry out.
“this is mine.” his fingers wrap themselves around your neck. “that pussy is mine, and i’ll play with it how i see fit.” you’re nodding your head along with his words because of course, you know it’s his.
“that’s right sweetheart. you want me to make you cum?” another nod from you. “why don’t you tell me what’s got that pretty head all dizzy then, yeah? daddy wants to give it to you, baby. i want you to have it.”
you do tear up this time, and chan smiles at you, dimples showing. “my crybaby. how can channie help? what if i touch your little clit again, would that make it better?” he asks.
“y-yes, channie, daddy,” you whine. his hand once again travels down to your pussy, and your hips arch into him to welcome them back home. so fuckin’ precious, he says.
chan kept his end of the bargain, so you know it’s time to keep yours, despite how nervous you are about admitting it out loud. you doubt your sweet boyfriend would think any different of you for this, but still.
“want, ah, want you an’ your friends to fuck me, channie,” you whisper. “‘m so good for you, i am, jus’ want everyone to know.”
chan thinks he’s about to pass out. no way did you just say what he thinks you said, what he hopes you said. he’s fantasized about that for months, sharing you with the rest of stray kids, but was too ashamed and embarrassed to ever admit it out loud to you. then again, he thought, you had always been the brave one out of the two of you.
“oh honey,” chan coos, “you’re right, you’re so good for me. you’re so wonderful, you want ‘em to see how sweet this pussy is? how good you treat me?”
he doesn’t let you answer before he’s pulling you into his chest and making you cum so hard you’re out cold the second your head hits the pillow.
this is how it starts.
minho
chan had texted you earlier, a short and simple me and minho need your help haha. you weren’t sure if it would lead to what you were hoping it would lead to, but god were you crossing your fingers. the second chan let you into the dance practice room, he locked the door behind you. you stopped in your tracks and raised your eyebrows at him, searching for some sort of hint to clue you into what was going on. your boyfriend cocks his head towards minho, who’s sitting on the leather couch and fiddling with his phone with a scowl on his face.
you let out a quiet ahh and shoot chan a thumbs up. he responds with that squeaky laugh you love so much and gently pulls you in by the back of your head, wrapping his arm around it and guiding your face to his neck so you can hug him.
“the second you say stop, we stop, ‘kay?” chan asks into your ear.
“yes!” you say, excited, now bouncing on the balls of your feet and nearly headbutting him in the chin. you kiss him once and pull away, smiling. out of the corner of your eye you see minho lock his phone and place it face down on the couch, focusing his attention on you and chan.
the next thing you know, you’re half naked on the couch. minho has your ass pulled to the edge so that he can have easier access to your drooly cunt on display for him, your panties dangling from one foot. he’s kneeling in between your spread legs. chan’s sitting on the cushion beside you, content for now to let minho explore your body for the first time. he’s holding your hand and rubbing slow circles on it with his thumb.
your head is thrown back against the backrest of the couch as minho is nipping at your thighs, startling moans out of you when he decides he wants to bite down harder.
“show him your tits, baby,” chan tells you, squeezing your hand once. you comply immediately, using your unoccupied hand to pull the hem of your t-shirt up above your tits, and you wiggle when you look down to see minho’s dark eyes roaming your chest.
“mm,” minho hums, “pretty. pretty body. can i kiss you here?” he asks, eyes flicking down to your cunt. you nod your head but are quick to glance over at your boyfriend. chan doesn’t say anything, but he does grab you under your knee and pull it up towards him so that minho has an even better view of you. minho hisses under his breath when it opens you up more for him, pussy lips parting and cute little clit peeking out to greet him.
you all three let out a noise when minho gets his mouth on you, and you’re quick to bring the hem of your shirt to your mouth to bite down on it.
you’ve always known lee minho was gorgeous, but the way he closes his eyes when he tastes you has you reeling. his long eyelashes flutter against his cheek before he opens his eyes again. you think it’s cute how red his ears are, and you bring a hand down to rub at one of them and he sighs into you.
you’re honestly surprised your boyfriend has been sitting still for this long. he hasn’t moved to touch himself once, despite how hard you can see his dick is straining through his athletic shorts. he looks antsy though, and you don’t want that.
“baby, channie, what is it?” you ask, fighting hard to make your words steady while minho continues to fuck you with his tongue.
“fuck,” chan grunts. “fuck, i want a fucking taste.” before you know it, chan’s on his knees beside minho, once again pushing your knee to your chest, and minho copies his movement with your other leg. minho shuffles over on his knees to give chan more room, and your breath stutters in your throat when their tongues touch you at the same time.
you couldn’t look away if you tried, your eyes are locked on the way minho and chan’s tongues lave over your cunt at the same time. one of chan’s hands comes up to cup your breast, and you rest your hand over his, squeezing it.
the noises are filthy, even more so with the acoustics of the practice room. you can’t tune anything out. not the way your pussy is soaking their faces, the hungry noises both boys are making, or the way you’re almost squealing. your noises raise in pitch once you see how their tongues are batting against each other and rubbing over your clit, and you’re cumming before you get the chance to warn them. your back arches almost painfully, hips bucking so wildly that chan and minho both have to hold you down.
you reckon you damn near pass out because when you come to, you’re nestled against chan’s chest and minho’s head is resting on your shoulder; he’s playing with your fingers.
“morning, sunshine!” chan jokes, and he laughs when you groan. you open your bleary eyes and take in your surroundings, relaxing further against chan and minho.
“minho?” you ask, and he hums to show you he’s listening. “why are you wearing different pants?”
“because i came in my other ones, why else?”
changbin
“holy fuck, that’s good,” changbin grunts, reclining himself further into the computer chair in chan’s studio. his legs scramble to give you more room where you’re settled sweetly between them.
chan sits on the couch, relaxing into the corner while he palms himself over his shorts.
you pull off of changbin’s cock and stroke him in your fist. you spread your legs so that you can settle closer to the ground and smile against the underside of changbin’s cock, figuring it turns him on to loom over you like that. changbin growls, and you’re still smiling when you travel lower to suck on his balls, humming in your throat.
changbin’s head smacks against the headrest of the chair when you suck his cock into your mouth again.
“can i- ah, please, your mouth feels so good,” changbin whines. he wants to fuck your face, you can tell by the way his hips stutter, but he stops himself because you haven’t told him he could. mhm, you hum, and changbin’s quick to lift his hips to see how much you can take.
if you can deepthroat bang christopher chan, you figure changbin will be no problem.
“gag on it,” changbin murmurs, hands gripping the arms of the chair. you do, pushing yourself all the way down on his cock and holding yourself there. changbin lets out a cry when you look up at him through your teary eyes, and his hand cups your cheek so that he can wipe a tear away with his thumb when it falls. you move your head slightly, ignoring the discomfort on your nose when it rubs against his trimmed pubic hair.
you finally hear chan make a noise when changbin starts to fuck your face in earnest. the wet sounds your throat is making carries throughout the small studio, your face a mess of tears, snot, and drool. you’re thankful changbin’s chair is pushed back against the desk because otherwise it would be rolling across the floor from how hard he’s fucking into your mouth.
“fuuuck, like that. just like that. fuck, can you spit on it?” you pull off of changbin’s cock, a thick string of spit connecting your mouth to his dick when you pull away for a breath.
“mm, yeah,” you say, moving your tongue around in your mouth. chan sits up from his spot on the couch and scoots closer to you.
“here,” he says, leaning up and turning your head towards him. chan shoves two of his thick fingers in your mouth, fucking them in and out. you whine, gagging slightly on his fingers, body lurching as chan continues fucking your mouth with his fingers. he goes to pull them out, but you’re not done with him. you grab onto his wrist and suck harshly on his fingers, batting your eyelashes at him.
“little fucking slut,” chan grunts, “open your mouth.” you do as he says, and he fucks your mouth again, gagging you on his fingers over and over. spit is cascading down his hand and forearm, and he tsks at you. your mouth is still open, thick saliva collecting in the back of your mouth, and chan leans forward one more time to add his own spit to the mix. he turns you back towards changbin.
changbin has been watching the whole scene with his jaw dropped, hand working furiously on his cock, but not enough to make him cum. he wants you to do that.
he holds his cock out for you as you settle back comfortably between his legs. your hand joins his on his cock, and you let the collected spit pour out of your mouth so that it seeps down his cock. your hands catch most of it, and you use it to pump his messy cock. changbin’s pants are soiled at this point, but that’s the last thing on his mind. your hair keeps getting caught in the mess and you’re growing frustrated with having to repeatedly tuck it behind your ears. you’re a little miffed you forgot a hair band before you left your place. of course sweet changbin notices, and he uses both of his hands to keep your hair from your face.
you hear chan lean up from his spot on the couch again, and he collects your hair in his hands and holds it back for both of you.
“‘s it good bin?” chan asks, looking up at his friend.
“holy shit, you’re crazy. it’s so fucking good, so fucking good,” changbin laughs in disbelief. chan uses his hold on your hair to move your head up and down on changbin’s cock. he holds you down on it when he sees fit, moving you how he wants, toying with you and changbin both. it’s all too much, so you can’t help but start to touch yourself.
chan catches on quickly, but changbin’s too busy looking wide-eyed at the ceiling to notice.
“bin, look. isn’t that cute?” chan asks. your whimper is muffled by changbin’s thick cock.
“oh my god, are you touching yourself, baby?” changbin whines, chest heaving. “that’ll make me cum. keep touching your pussy for us and i’ll cum in your mouth.”
as you start to hump your hand, chan tightens his grip on your hair and forces your nose to changbin’s skin. when you cum you grasp onto changbin’s leg with your other hand, and the way your throat constricts pushes changbin over the edge with you.
hyunjin
“hyung it’s so wet, so wet, i can’t,” hyunjin cries. you giggle at that, and hyunjin huffs out a laugh too.
he hasn’t fucked you yet, but this is good. hyunjin has been grinding his long, pretty cock against your pussy for the better part of fifteen minutes. “yeah, ‘m wet for you hyune~” you croon.
hyunjin’s thighs shake where they’re pressed tight against the backs of yours.
chan breathes a curse through the speaker of your phone. you hated that he had to leave to check on something at the company, but you figured hyunjin would be fun to play with by yourself. despite not being present in the room, you still wanted chan involved somehow, but it was hyunjin who suggested calling him up.
“how does hyunjinnie feel, baby?” chan asks, and you give yourself a couple of seconds to collect your thoughts.
“channie, he feels so good on me,” you tell him, voice lilting in a sultry way to drive your boyfriend and his friend crazy. “his cock is so fucking big.” you wail when the head of his cock catches on your clit.
you hear chan say something along the lines of my sweetheart loves a big cock, huh? but you’re too busy crying out over the way hyunjin grabs his dick and shakes the head of it against your clit to be certain. your hips spasm, and hyunjin leans more of his weight forward to cage you against the bed.
hyunjin plants his hands on either side of your head and ruts his hips down faster, jolting your body up the bed.
“pussy. so. fucking. warm. so wet, smells so sweet,” hyunjin punctuates his words with fluid thrusts against you.
you cup your hand over the top of his cock so that it presses him harder against your pussy, and that makes you both moan. hyunjin leans down to kiss at your chest. he sucks kisses onto the underside of your breast and pops your nipple into his mouth, making you keen. his deft fingers softly tap at your other nipple, faintly tracing around it with the tip of his finger to feel it pebble up and harden under his touch.
“what’s got my baby making such pretty noises, huh? you have to tell me since i can’t see you. i have to know what to touch my cock to.” you cry out chan’s name, and hyunjin lets out a soft noise as well.
“channie he’s- he’s rubbing his cock on my pussy. it’s so hard, feels so good… an’ he’s playing with my- with my nipples too, baby, ah!” you cry out as hyunjin bites down gently on your nipple.
“hyung, channie hyung, my thighs are soaked. it’s so slippery, ‘s dripping. shit! how do you do this? it’s so good i’m gonna die…” hyunjin’s sentence trails off as he fucks his cock against your pussy faster, movements sharper as he gets closer to his release.
“fuck, i know, hyunjin-ah. sweetest pussy ever, isn’t it?” chan says through the phone. if you listen close enough you think you can hear the slick noises of him jerking his cock.
“hy-hyunjinnie,” you mewl, “c’n you, can you put it in, please? just the tip, please, just the tip! that’s all i need, i just wanna cum. i wanna cum on your cock.” hyunjin cries out and his arms shake.
“hyung, can i please?” he almost sounds close to tears. hyunjin bites his lip and hangs his head, silky black hair brushing against your chest.
“you’ve got my baby begging, hyune, go ahead, it’s alright.” chan answers, voice tinny through the phone’s speaker.
you’re whispering pleasepleasepleaseplease as hyunjin takes hold of his cock and guides it to your hole. he does as promised, fucking the tip in, and you both look at each other with mouths wide open. hyunjin re-positions himself so that his thighs aren’t pressing yours to your chest anymore, now there’s a little more room between the two of you. he takes both of your ankles in one of his big hands and pushes your legs back to your chest, the other hand occupied with holding the base of his cock.
hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward, grinding inside you repeatedly with the tip of his big cock. you’re so wet that you start squelching when he fucks in, and as hyunjin whimpers at the noise you throw your arm over your eyes to hide.
“nonono, look at me, please don’t hide. you’re so beautiful, you feel perfect,” hyunjin tells you. “will you cum? can i make you cum?”
“baby, touch yourself for us, let hyunjinnie see your pretty face when you cum on him,” chan says. he’s breathless. you follow his instructions, looking at hyunjin through your eyelashes and rubbing your clit in small little circles. it catches up to you quickly, your face scrunches up as you hit your high, pussy clenching around the head of hyunjin’s cock.
“oh! oh, keep clenching on me. please, yes, keep cumming!” hyunjin cries, fist jerking the part of his cock that isn’t snug inside you. that’s enough to push him over the edge, he rushes to take his cock out and he cums in streaks all over your stomach. you smile sleepily at him as you pick up some with the tips of your fingers and bring it to your mouth.
“don’t fucking go anywhere,” chan growls. you had almost forgot he was on the line. “i’m coming home right now.”
jisung
you’re putting on the best show of your life, you think, as you sit in the computer chair in chan’s studio while him and jisung lounge on the couch. chan’s already got a hand down his pants, but jisung is holding onto the spotify pillow tightly, covering his lap with it.
you smirk at your boyfriend and trail your eyes to jisung, making sure to spread your legs wider for him to see. you settle both of your legs over the arms of the chair. you notice jisung’s eyes widen, but he still doesn’t move to touch himself, and that has you pouting.
“come on, hannie, don’t you want to play with me?” you ask, cocking your head as your fingers begin to pinch your own nipples before the real fun begins.
you see jisung gulp, and you’d laugh if it weren’t so cute.
“you wanna watch me touch myself?” you ask him, pulling at a nipple and watching him watch your breast jiggle with the movement.
“baby don’t tease, be nice.” comes chan’s response.
“‘m always nice, see?” you say back. you roll your neck and your fingers inch to your pussy. you form a vee with your fingers and spread yourself open for them. you let them look their fill for a moment and then start to rub your clit when you deem necessary. “i’m so nice, aren’t i hannie?”
“yeah, sooo nice, so nice, yeah,” jisung replies with a cough, eyes fixed on your fingers that are coated with your slick. he finally removes the pillow from his lap and reaches a hand under the band of his sweatpants to touch himself.
“take out your cocks, pleeease.” it’s more of a command if your tone has anything to do with it, but since you’re being nice you tacked on a please at the end for good measure. chan readily complies, always prepared to get his dick out for you, but jisung pulls at the drawstring of his sweats and hesitates.
“please hannie? i’ve seen that one before,” you wave a passive hand at chan. “can i see yours?” you ignore chan’s squawk of hey! you happen to love this one, brat! to bat your eyelashes at jisung.
jisung laughs, which is what you wanted him to do, and finally loosens the drawstring and shimmies his pants down a little bit so you can see him.
“mmm,” you hum. “yes, good. touch it for me.” his cock is almost purple at the head. it looks like you worked him up even more than you thought. good.
sure you were putting on a show, acting out a little bit, but it was easy to start touching yourself genuinely with two of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen in your life sitting in front of you jerking their cocks. to you, to your body. you’re soaking wet. thankfully chan had the forethought to lay his discarded jacket in the chair you’re sitting on before you started your little magic act.
your fingers dip into your entrance, and it makes your hips jolt. ooh! you say.
“you wanna taste, jisungie?” you ask. jisung stares wordlessly at where your fingers are disappearing into yourself. you kick your foot out to get his attention. “i saaaid, you wanna taste?” he wastes no time in nodding.
you pull your fingers from yourself and sit up in the chair, the wetness sticking uncomfortably under you. you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the smile spreading across your face when jisung nearly goes cross-eyed as you bring your fingers to his lips.
you mouth the words ‘say ahh’ and jisung listens instantly. he opens his mouth for you, and you’re quick to acquaint your fingers with his tongue. he closes his lips and his eyes shut with them, gently sucking on your fingers and swirling his tongue around the digits. you thrust your fingers slowly in and out and let out a breathless moan when jisung bobs his head to meet your fingers.
chan’s still touching himself all the while.
“oh, channie my love, i’m not being fair am i?” you ask. looking chan in the eyes, you lean back in your seat again to repeat the process. you fuck yourself on your fingers until your wetness is seeping down your knuckles and sit up once again to feed them to chan. chan meets your fingers with his tongue already out of his mouth, waiting patiently. when chan is done sucking your essence from your fingers, he presses a sweet kiss against your palm.
“get on your fucking knees, i wanna cum in that mouth,” chan commands. you’re quick to follow his orders, but not before jisung snags the jacket from your chair and places it on the ground so you can rest your knees on it. chan stands up from his spot on the couch and begins jerking his cock over your face.
jisung’s still touching himself watching the scene of you and chan before him, but you want him closer. you tug on the fabric of his pants as encouragement for him to stand up too. he gets the hint and stands up beside chan, stripping his cock over you as well.
“fuck, i can’t, can i see your tongue?” jisung asks, voice pitching on a whine. you loll your tongue out of your mouth in answer, mouth open and waiting. “wanna cum on it, can i? can i please?”
you raise yourself on your knees so that you can lick the head of his cock, then lick chan’s, then jisung’s again.
“please cum in my mouth?” you mewl to the both of them. “i’ll be good and swallow it all.”
felix
when he got to the chicken breast and protein powder dorm he assumed everyone was out. he left a pair of headphones in chan’s room the last time he was over and wanted them back. he was quickly proven incorrect when he opened the door of chan’s room to see you kneeling by the bed in just your underwear and chan sitting on the edge of it. the lights are off, but chan has his desk lamp on and the led lights on his wall are shining pink and purple.
you rush to pull your mouth off of your boyfriend, and chan leans forward to block the view of your chest as best as he can.
“well d’you want to...stay?” chan offers after a tense moment of silence. felix stands in the doorway of his hyung’s room, mouth slack, as he watches the scene in front of him. he shakes his head, almost as if that will help him clear it.
“is that- i mean- are you.....sure?” felix starts, sentence breaking off toward the end. you quickly nod your head, leaning back from chan and exposing your chest. minx. he’s been growing hard in his pants since he opened the damn door, but now his cock has really taken an interest.
“yeah mate, we kind of… talk about it? but only if you want to, yeah?” chan responds. felix nods shakily, taking a step into the room and closing the door. “yeah... okay, yes. fuck, please?”
chan smiles and scoots back to the head of the bed, guiding your hand with him until you’re between his legs, back pressed to his chest. you’re shyly keeping your legs closed, but chan tuts at you. a soft let him see you leaving his pretty lips. next thing you know, chan’s strong hands are prying your thighs open slowly and giving felix a clear view of your soaked panties. you hide your face in his neck as his hand crawls back up your thigh to cup where you’re leaking. “come ‘ere, lix,” chan murmurs.
felix takes a step closer to the bed, eyes glued to chan’s fingers running over the fabric of your panties. he hears a sweet sound leave your lips and chan coos. “why don’t you ask him, honey.”
“mm, felix,” you cry as chan’s fingers find their way under the waistband. “can you- can you take my panties off, please?”
“oh fuck,” he groans. he climbs onto the bed and situates himself between yours and chan’s spread legs. he looks between you and chan again for confirmation, chan nodding his head and your quiet pleas spur him on.
felix reaches forward and gently guides your panties down your thighs. he whimpers softly when he finally sees you bare and his head lolls back when the smell of your arousal reaches his nose.
“you have to tell me- i don’t know what you like. please show me.” felix tells you as he lowers himself to his stomach. chan pulls you further against him, drawing your legs back to your chest.
at the first press of felix’s tongue against you, you keen. your back arches against your boyfriend’s chest when felix’s tongue flicks softly on your clit.
he dips his tongue into your hole and looks up just in time to see chan pull you into a dirty kiss. he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be in the middle of that kiss, reasoning that he’ll hold onto that thought and figure out what it means later.
felix laves his tongue against you, quickly seeking out your swollen clit again and wrapping his lips around it, pressing quick sucking kisses against it.
“lix! just like that, please!” you cry at the same time chan coos out “ohh, my baby likes that.” he sucks at you harder, eyebrows furrowing as he keeps his pace in order to make you cum. he moans as he feels a hand grip his hair and press him closer to you. he’s expecting it to be yours, but he looks up to find both of your hands occupied with your own chest.
felix pulls away slightly as chan’s other hand travels down to your pussy. he doesn’t think twice before he brings the older man’s fingers to his mouth and wraps his tongue around them. chan hums and pulls his fingers free. he brings them to your clit, rubbing in quick circles. felix takes that as his cue to wiggle his tongue back into your hole, pressing in and out and licking over what chan’s fingers aren’t covering. your hips jolt everytime chan’s fingers and felix’s tongue play with your clit at the same time.
“oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cry as your thighs begin to tremble. “‘m gonna cum. please let me cum, please?”
seungmin
“do i even want to know why you have a leash here?”
“it’s a little late for that, seungminnie, isn’t it? considering you’re wearing it? and why do you have a collar?” chan harmlessly snarks back, and seungmin laughs.
you’d laugh too if you weren’t too busy getting pounded by seungmin’s long cock.
you’re on your back; seungmin’s holding your legs up by the pits of your knees. you’ve got the end of the leash wrapped in your fist and every so often you tug on it to hear seungmin whimper. he does look awfully pretty in that collar.
you tug on the leash again, pulling seungmin down so that you can kiss his lips. his hips pick up speed again when you wrap the leash one more loop around your hand.
“you’re just a puppy, huh?” you murmur against his cheek. seungmin’s rhythm falters a little bit as his eyebrows furrow at your comment. you see him take a peek at chan out of the corner of his eyes. “it’s alright seungminnie, don’t be embarrassed. he’s just a dog too.”
chan doesn’t say a word, but his leg starts bouncing up and down.
“see look, just like a dog thumping its leg,” you whisper into seungmin’s ear. it’s quiet enough in seungmin’s room so you know chan can hear what you said. the only sound other than the slapping of your hips together is that of seungmin’s oscillating fan.
seungmin breathes a whine into your collarbone, and you use that as an excuse to pull his hair hard enough to lift his head so that you can look him in the eyes.
“you’re a good boy seungminnie, did you know that?” seungmin nods his head yes but quickly stops and shakes it no instead. seungmin’s stopped fucking you now, you reckon he’s overwhelmed, so you run your fingers through his hair. “well it’s true, and i don’t lie. you’re such a good little puppy for me, seungmin, and do you know what good boys get?”
“w-what do good boys get?” seungmin asks, hips wiggling.
“good boys get to hump, isn’t that right channie? ‘cause that’s what dogs do.”
seungmin and chan sound so sweet when they moan together, voices almost harmonizing. your new favorite melody. you spur seungmin into moving when you pat his flank, and he does exactly what you told him to. his hips buck almost wildly against yours. you turn your head to look at your boyfriend and smirk at the way he’s minutely grinding his hips up into nothing. seungmin shifts his weight onto one hand and goes to touch your clit with his nimble fingers, but you stop him before he can.
“no, no, it’s okay honey, puppies can’t do that with their paws. you let me worry about that.” and you do, using the hand not holding the leash to reach down and rub your clit while seungmin watches.
“i like- i like that,” seungmin gasps. it’s cute the way his stomach contracts when he thrusts into you.
“you like what, seungminnie?”
“the way you, ah, the way you talk to me. every time i cum from- from now on i’ll think of this,” seungmin confesses as he kisses down your shoulder to your arm.
it’s a headrush. knowing that you have seungmin in the palm of your hand so easily like this. not only seungmin, but chan too. you can tell by how wide his eyes are; he’s hanging on to every word.
“seungminnie, that’s sweet. how about next time i let you and channie both be my doggies? you can hump one leg and my channie can hump the other, and i’ll just sit here and watch. how about that? will you touch your cock to that too?”
“yes, yes, i will, promise,” seungmin cries. his hips buck against you so hard that his cock slips out, but he can’t stop moving in order to press back inside of you. seungmin’s just as happy fucking his cock against the mound of your cunt, grunting every time the slit of his cock rubs against your soft skin.
“what about you, channie? will you touch yourself too?” you ask, turning to look at your boyfriend. he’s red in the face, sweating, curly hair sticking to his forehead.
“you know i will, you know i will, baby.”
seungmin cums with a sweet whine from low in his throat.
“good. now come clean up this mess seungminnie made.”
jeongin
“ooh!” you exclaim. you clutch at jeongin’s biceps from where he’s holding himself up above you. “‘s big, innie.”
jeongin lets out a shuddery breath and blinks a bead of sweat from his eyelashes. it falls on your forehead.
“is that- is that okay?” he asks nervously. you can feel him stiffen above you, so you start to massage your hands up and down his arms. before you can answer him yourself, chan answers for you.
“it’s good, ayen-ah, don’t worry. my baby likes big.”
“oh, hyung that’s- please shut up.” you giggle at jeongin’s response and he smiles down at you, albeit a little shaky.
“you can do whatever you want to me, innie. it’s your first time, just enjoy it.” he nods at your words, finally beginning to move his hips against you.
“ahh, shit, you’re so-” jeongin doesn’t finish that sentence. “is it good for you? does it feel like this for you too?” you’re really wet, so he knows he’s doing alright on that front, but he wants to know how to make it even better. he brings a hand down to your pussy to feel.
“there, rub there,” chan guides from his seat close to the bed. “you like it wet? that’ll make it wetter.” you throw your head back as jeongin complies with chan’s suggestion, two of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit.
“that’s good, innie, feels so good,” you cry.
jeongin presses a kiss to your sweaty neck in thanks. he stays there, mouthing repeatedly at your skin. his lips are a little timid but a lot sweet, and you encourage him by running your fingers through his hair.
“can you, ah, will it be okay if i turn you over?” jeongin asks.
you nod to him and press a kiss to his lips, patting his side as a signal for him to get off so you can change positions. you both hiss when his cock slides out of you.
you make a show out of turning over for both jeongin and your boyfriend. jeongin’s hand squeezes the swell of your ass, and you hear him gasp when he takes notice of the slight gape from where he was inside you a few seconds prior.
“oh that’s- oh wow,” jeongin breathes. “hyung, come see.”
you preen when chan leaves his spot to stand beside the bed. his gaze joins jeongin’s on your center, and you wiggle your hips in impatience. chan cracks a hand down swiftly on your ass cheek and you whine. he knows what’s on the tip of your tongue, so he hooks two fingers into your opening and fucks you with them slowly. “just wanna be filled, huh?”
“yeah, yeah. i want jeonginnie’s cock again,” comes your answer. chan laughs and smacks your ass once more before retreating back to his prior spot. jeongin heaves a deep breath and shakes his head, muttering an okay, okay under his breath. he presses you further into the bed so you’re almost lying entirely flat on your front until he quickly grabs a pillow from the head of his bed and stuffs it under your hips.
“good, ayen-ah, where’d you learn that?” chan teases, nodding his head. jeongin rolls his eyes at that. you can’t see him, but you know him well enough to know that’s what he does. he doesn’t answer as he focuses on sheathing his cock inside you again and making sure his arms don’t give out from under him.
jeongin cages you against the bed, his torso to your back and thighs on either side of yours.
“ah it’s- it’s warm, where he hit you.” you can still feel the phantom sting of chan’s palm against your ass, and you notice it more when jeongin places his hand gently on top of where chan’s handprint is no doubt seared into your skin. that must get to jeongin because he thrusts into you harder than he has before.
“s-sorry! sorry, i’m sorry, i can’t,” jeongin babbles, and you coo at him. your hand searches for his elegant fingers. when you find them you bring his hand back up beside your head, holding it and kissing his knuckles.
“it’s okay, honey, i like that. d’you wanna cum in me? fuck me until you cum, innie, would you like that?” you ask him, trying your best to fuck back on him with his weight holding you down. he’ll cum in the condom he’s wearing, but the barrier doesn’t matter right now.
“please, i- won’t last, i can’t. you’re- too pretty, so pretty, i can’t,” jeongin’s fucking you faster now. he’s so desperate to cum that it makes your pussy clench, and he shouts. your own fingers find your clit in the hopes that you can cum with him, a perfect end to his one-of-a-kind first time.
“look at that, keep going iyennie, gonna make my baby cum too,” chan hums. jeongin’s balls deep in you, and you’re facing your boyfriend, falling apart for him and one of his closest friends. chan has his cock out, and you’re surely drooling now. you’ll have to remind jeongin to wash his sheets afterwards.
your hand is trapped under you from yours and jeongin’s combined weight, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically rubbing your clit. that’s enough for jeongin; he chokes on a moan and he stops breathing as he cums inside you. inside the condom, but inside you nonetheless.
TW : drinking ; alcohol ; reader being drunk ; smut ; this chapter is a mess and it took me like 4 days to write it ; I am not good at smut ; I apologize ;
Word Count : 6.7k
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Parties weren’t your thing, they never had been, and the thought of going to a frat party at any point in your life had always disgusted you. You heard about what happened at those types of things, you heard about the heavy drinking and the sinful activities that happened behind locked doors in random rooms. You never wanted to take part in that, you didn’t even want to be associated with those kinds of things.
Things had changed, and you weren’t sure whether they had changed for the better or for worse. Hyunjin always went to those parties, and that explained why he was the way he was, why you constantly had your heart broken, but you had gotten to a point that you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything anymore. You just wanted to have fun, you wanted to have the same kind of fun that Hyunjin had, that all of your friends were now having.
Things had changed, and you weren’t sure whether they had changed for the better or for worse. Hyunjin always went to those parties, and that explained why he was the way he was, why you constantly had your heart broken, but you had gotten to a point that you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything anymore. You just wanted to have fun, you wanted to have the same kind of fun that Hyunjin had, that all of your friends were now having.
Things had changed, and you weren’t sure whether they had changed for the better or for worse. Hyunjin always went to those parties, and that explained why he was the way he was, why you constantly had your heart broken, but you had gotten to a point that you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything anymore. You just wanted to have fun, you wanted to have the same kind of fun that Hyunjin had, that all of your friends were now having.
Things had changed, and you weren’t sure whether they had changed for the better or for worse. Hyunjin always went to those parties, and that explained why he was the way he was, why you constantly had your heart broken, but you had gotten to a point that you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything anymore. You just wanted to have fun, you wanted to have the same kind of fun that Hyunjin had, that all of your friends were now having.
You truly had no intention of going to that party, the entire night had been planned around movie night with Jeongin, but then you saw Seungmins post… If he could go to the party, why couldn’t you? You missed him, you missed Jisung… And even though Minho had been an ass in the last moments that you had spoken to him, you missed him too. It wasn’t something that you could tell Jeongin though, he was far too protective of you to let you admit that to yourself, he was always so worried about you getting hurt.
Jeongins arm was wrapped around your waist, his stance over you more like a bodyguard than that of a friend, and while you could lie to yourself and say that you didn’t know why, you knew that it was because you looked good. The outfit that you were wearing wasn’t something that he or any of the other guys had ever seen you in before. The eyes of everyone in the room turned to look at you as you walked in, and instead of faking politeness and turning away after a second, they continued to stare, and as if they were cartoon characters, their jaws dropped in shock.
“I really don’t think we should be here… I can take you out to dinner or something so the outfit doesn’t go to waste…” Jeongin whispered into your ear, his grip around you tightening as he met eyes with one of the men who had been staring at you a little longer than the others. “I don’t like the way people are-”
His sentence was cut off as Hyunjin strode over to you, his eyes narrowed as he looked between you and Jeongin, and then his fingers were wrapping around your wrist to try to pull you away from your best friend. “Funny seeing you here, isn’t it?” Hyunjin mumbled, giving up almost immediately when he realized that Jeongin wasn’t going to let you go so easily. “You never came to any parties with me… But Jeongin is good enough, right?”
You rolled your eyes, not planning on saying anything, you didn’t want to give him the time of day, you had given him enough of your time already. All you really wanted to do was walk away, make your way to the kitchen and grab a few drinks, forget the fact that you in fact didn’t belong here, that Hyunjin was here as well as your old friends. “You’re damn right I’m good enough.” Jeongin snarkily responded, his thumb brushing against your waist in an effort to keep himself from going off too much. “At least when she’s here with me she doesn’t have to worry about being left alone while you go off to fuck some other girl.”
Hyunjins eyes went dark, and you saw his body tense up, his hands balling into fists as he took a step closer to Jeongin. “Enough.” You snapped, although your eyes never glanced over to Jeongin. You were speaking solely to Hyunjin, not wanting a fight to break out, you didn’t want Jeongin to get hurt just for speaking the truth. “Just go do whatever you were here to do Hyunjin. I’m not here with you or for you anyway.”
You grabbed Jeongins hand, walking further into the house, and you could tell that he was amped up just by how hard it was to pull him away from Hyunjin. Maybe he wanted to actually fight him, finally take out all of his anger on the guy that had you laying in bed crying so many nights. “I fucking hate that guy, I swear to god I do.” Jeongin mumbled to himself as you dragged him away, only stopping once you felt comfortable enough to let him go. “We don’t belong here, Y/N.” He grumbled as he grabbed one of the red plastic cups off the counter, throwing his head back to let the straight liquor trickle down his throat and calm his nerves.
“It’s over with, let’s just not worry about him. We’re here to have fun, Innie.” You retorted, grabbing a cup of your own and taking small sips of it, trying not to let your face give way to the fact that you hated the taste. Truthfully though, you had never been to a party so you didn’t know the first thing to do. So many people were there, and they looked like they were already absolutely wasted. There were couples, or, what looked to be couples grinding against each other in the middle of the room shamelessly, and just catching a glimpse of them had your body burning up with embarrassment for them.
“Hey…” The voice came from behind you, and again, just like every other instance before this, you knew the voice so well. The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as you turned to look at the man, his eyes sparkling in the bright light of the kitchen. “I didn’t know you guys would be here… I saw the other guys too.”
You remembered what Minho had said, the texts that had come from Felix when he had texted you himself. Was it just a coincidence that he had come over right after what had happened with Hyunjin? “Didn’t know you were the type to come to parties like this either…” You muttered, trying not to look into his eyes too long, knowing that you’d get lost in them. No matter how suspicious he was, he was beautiful, but he was also in a relationship. No matter how much you thought you wanted him, he was unreachable, untouchable, and maybe that was a good thing. He was Hyunjins best friend, even if Felix wasn’t in a relationship, it would only create more drama, and that was something that you didn’t need in your life.
“I was invited out… I didn’t have anything else to do…” Felix muttered, looking around at the drinks that lined the table, scrunching his nose up at the harsh smell of alcohol that filled the entire room. “Are you here with everyone else? I didn’t see you guys together…”
You sighed heavily, you didn’t want to talk about them, you didn’t want to constantly be reminded of the friends that clearly chose Minho over you. “No, she’s here with me. It’s just me and her. Her and I. Just the two of us, and we plan on keeping it that way.” Jeongin said harshly, clearly annoyed by the constant disturbances that the two of you were getting while there. Now you understood why he’d rather stay at your place and watch a movie. He didn’t have to fend off the people that asked too much or get rid of Hyunjin when it was just the both of you in the comfort of your apartment.
Felixs cheeks hollowed, like he was biting the inside of them, fighting back the urge to say something. “It’s always that way, isn’t it?” Was all he said before picking up one of the cups that he clearly didn’t want to drink the contents of, but he needed something to make it look like that was the reason he came into the kitchen in the first place.
The party wasn’t what you expected it to be, it wasn’t like the parties that you saw in movies or posts online, at least not for you. It was awkward mostly, the feeling of eyes on you whichever room you walked into, the whispers that you thought were about you and Jeongin being together. Would it really matter? Everyone on campus already assumed it, hell, even your friends assumed that there was more between you and Jeongin. They were wrong though, you and Jeongin knew that you were just friends, and that’s all it would be, all it ever would be.
The only thing the party had that both you and Jeongin could indulge yourselves in were the drinks, and that’s exactly what you both did. The two of you spent most of the time in the kitchen, refilling your drinks every time you both got the cups down to a single drop at the bottom. By the second hour of the party you both were absolutely gone, holding onto each other for support as you staggered through the crowds of people that could handle their liquor better than the two of you combined.
“Inniee…” You slurred, gripping onto his shirt as he dropped down onto the couch, the movement causing you to fall down practically on top of him. He chuckled softly, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he pulled you closer to him, resting his forehead against your back. “The room is… spinning… a lot…” You mused drunkenly, looking around the room as if everything was new although you had already been there for hours.
“Bunny…” He groaned, the vibration of his voice against your back sending chills down your spine. “I really think… I should be taking you home… Soon…” He said, he sounded so tired already, and even though the two of you had walked there, you didn’t trust either of yourselves to walk anywhere by yourselves or together.
It felt like the both of you could fall asleep right then and there, it probably would have been better that way, to just sleep off the alcohol that you both had filled yourselves with, if not for what was about to happen.
“Ijun!” The voice shouted, it was familiar, but you had never heard it like that, not that loud, not that angry, and even though your head felt like it would fall off if you moved, you whipped it around to follow the direction of the voice. You saw Felix standing in the middle of the room, everyone else had stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold. “What the hell?!”
You got up from Jeongins lap, much to his disappointment, and you followed the path of Felixs eyes to see Hyunjin with his hands on a blonde girl's hips, her eyes wide as she looked at Felix, and Hyunjin looking just as shocked as she was. “Felix… I..” The girl spoke, but he shook his head, his tears glistening under the strobing LED lights.
“I can’t believe you’d do that…” And you didn’t know who he was talking to at the moment, but you saw Hyunjin step forward, his hands out in front of him in defense. “Don’t. DON’T! I can’t believe you… with my girlfriend… MY GIRLFRIEND!”
Felix was seething, but the sudden influx of drama had everyone gasping. “Your… How was I supposed to know?! I didn’t… I swear to god I didn’t! She never said…” Hyunjin was absolutely struck with panic, looking between the girl that was apparently Felixs girlfriend and Hyunjins hookup for the night.
“How long…? How long have you been doing this?” Felixs attention was back on his girlfriend, or ex girlfriend based on the way he was reacting right now. She sniffled softly, but you knew the sound, the fakeness behind it, she wasn’t upset about hurting him, she was just upset that she had got caught. She didn’t answer him though, and he looked around the room, Felixs eyes landing on you, and then he was striding over.
You were drunk, too drunk to realize what was going on or what was about to happen. Before you could even react, Felixs hands were on your cheeks, his face moving close to yours until his lips crashed against yours. It was unexpected, and you were stunned, completely frozen in your spot, but you heard the people around you gasp loudly. Your head was spinning and your ears were ringing, but through the buzz you could hear multiple people yelling, and while you could make out Hyunjins and Jeongins voices, you knew you heard more than them.
“What the fuck…” You whispered, flustered from the suddenness of it all, the force behind the kiss had your head feeling hazy, and the worst part was that you didn’t mind it… You actually wanted more.
“I’m…” Felix started, his cheeks burning bright red as his eyes still twinkled with tears. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to do that… I…” His words hurt, they hurt more than you thought they would, especially considering the fact that you didn’t actually know him, you were simply attracted to him, it shouldn’t hurt you this much.
He quickly walked off, and it was clear that he had left based on the sound of a door being slammed shut. Maybe it was the intoxication that made the feeling of rejection feel far worse than it should. “Innie…” He was the only person you felt like you had now, the only person that could ease the pain and the embarrassment of the rejection.
Jeongin jumped from the couch, tripping over his own feet in the process to wrap his arms around you. “It’s okay, bunny… Come on… Let me get you home…” He murmured, his hands moving up to your face to quickly wipe away the tears that had unbeknownst to you, begun to fall.
You heard the murmurs of people behind you, but your head was spinning, there was so much going on, you couldn’t focus on any one voice. It was best that you pay attention solely on Jeongin, his arm around you and his soft voice coaxing you and reassuring you that it would be okay even though it felt like the complete opposite.
Did the air feel colder because the liquor had warmed your body so much? The outfit that had kept you warm in the early spring air just a couple hours earlier was now unable to keep out the chill of the night. The only thing that brought you a slight bit of warmth was clinging to Jeongins side, which he didn’t mind at all, in fact he seemed to pull you closer whenever your steps became staggered and you moved even an inch away from him.
The tears continued to fall from your eyes as you walked, and Jeongin had at some point run out of comforting things to say, opting to let you cry until the tears ran out, and then stay with you for the rest of the night to make sure they never resurfaced.
“I just don’t know why..” You started, but he shushed you, his hand rubbing up and down your arm soothingly. At least wait until he gets you back to your apartment so that he could actually talk you through the breakdown that Felix had caused in you.
Of course Jeongin wanted to go off, he hadn’t been so drunk that he didn’t realize just how wrong it was what Felix had done. Seeing the hurt and confusion in your eyes as you stood there, the embarrassment that radiated off of you, it hurt him, and that’s why he wanted to get you out of there as quickly as possible.
“We shouldn’t have gone to the party… I’m sorry…” You mumbled, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe your eyes, unfazed by the residue of makeup that stained the fabric. “I’m so stupid.”
“Hey!” He didn’t mean to speak so loudly, having not sobered up yet or even close to it, the volume of his voice came out much louder than it should have, but it had gotten your attention and that’s all he needed. “Don’t say that… You’re perfect and… and you’re not stupid… You don’t have to apologize… I just want you to be happy…”
He sounded so shy, so nervous as he said it, which was strange considering the fact that he said things like that all the time. It seemed like making sure you were happy was his main reason for living at this point, at least he made it seem that way.
The rest of the walk seemed like a blur, and neither of you said another word. To the world, the two of you probably looked like a couple that had a little too much to drink, staggering home late at night. Your apartment was only a couple more buildings down, but Jeongin insisted that he walk you the whole way home, refusing to let you out of his sight until he got you up and into your actual apartment.
“Really wish they’d put an elevator in…” Jeongin mumbled as he got you through the main doors of the building, his hand gripping onto your waist more firmly now as you both made your way to the stairs. You giggled softly, but your laughter was cut short by the intrusive thought that seemed to come back just when you were on the verge of forgetting about it. “I don’t like when you’re sad, bunny…” Jeongin murmured, silently thankful for the fact that you only lived on the second floor.
The pout that formed on your lips had his heart tightening, but you quickly turned away, fumbling in your purse that hung loosely in the crook of your elbow. “Not sad…” You huffed, but the both of you knew better, it’s just that neither of you pressed the matter. “Where’s the damn keys…” You muttered, yanking out receipts and random pieces of paper that littered the inside of your purse. Maybe your highly charged emotions were sparking the annoyance inside of you, your mental state wasn’t the best, especially not when clouded with the many drinks that you had tonight.
“Let me get them…” Jeongin offered, trying to reach for your purse, but you yanked it away from his fingers before he could even get them on the bag. “Y/N…” He whispered your name, watching the tears form once more, something that he promised he’d keep from happening once you had stopped crying the first time. You dropped the purse to the floor before crumbling in front of it, digging out all of the contents of it, all while sobbing and muttering incoherently. “Please… Y/N… Let me just-”
He had bent down to help you, his hands fumbling to stop yours from continuing to scavenge through the bag, but then you looked up at him, the tip of your nose damp with the tears that had managed to cling to it, your mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks and leaving darkened streaks beside the ones that had already been made. “What’s wrong with me?” You whispered, and he heard the sound of you swallowing thickly as you shakily gasped for a breath. “Am I not good enough for anyone?”
Jeongin was left speechless. He had hoped that through the years of being your best friend that he had shown you better than anyone else could that you were the best that anyone in the world could be lucky enough to be with. Clearly it hadn’t worked, the words that he’d tell you on a daily basis hadn’t stuck with you, at least not deeply, not enough to break through into your drunken mental state. “You are… You’re amazing, bunny. People are just too stupid to realize that… I’m sorry that they are. You’re perfect…” He murmured, quickly fishing the keys out of your bag now that he had a chance to. “Let’s get inside, okay? I don’t want people seeing you like this.”
Your bottom lip trembled as you looked up at him, still on your knees in the hallway, and your eyes glassy with fresh tears. “A-Are you… embarrassed of me?” You stammered, and the words had his jaw dropping, holding out his hand to grab yours and pull you up into his arms, holding you close against his chest as he rubbed circles into your back, letting you cry into his shirt.
“Never…” He took a deep breath, the scent of you, perfume and hard liquor with a slight scent of hairspray, filling his nostrils. “I just don’t want people to judge you… Make assumptions…” He used his free hand to unlock your front door before quickly making his way inside. “You’re so cold, bunny…” You felt cold, and you thought that the feeling was more of an internal thing, but clearly the chill of the night had been real and it lingered against your skin, clung to it, stealing your warmth. “Let’s warm you up.”
He pulled away, moving to go into the kitchen, but you grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards you. “Y-You can warm me up…” You said, a shyness in your voice as you batted your lashes, although it wasn’t exactly to try to be cute or anything, it was simply to get the tears out of your eyes. He watched you closely, your shoulders shrugging to drop the little cardigan that you had been wearing, and his eyes quickly moved to the floor where it pooled around your feet. “Innie… Please…” You were begging, and he felt his body burn, his nerves on edge as you moved closer to him, your fingers tugging at his shirt as you pushed yourself up on your toes to try to kiss him.
“Bunny…” The name was said now as a way to deter you, and god did he hate having to do that. It’s not like he didn’t want you. Everyone on campus knew he did, at least in some way, but he loved you too much to ruin what it was that you had right now, that’s why he didn’t try anything more. Sure, he had those three days in the sixth grade, it had been weird then… But had he missed his real chance by trying to protect his friendship with you? Had he even had a chance with you at all beyond those three days? “You’re drunk… You… You don’t know what you’re saying.” Your lips parted to say something, but he quickly pressed his finger against them to silence whatever it was that was about to leave your mouth. “Let me just get you something warm to drink, okay?”
Your heels dropped back down to the floor in one swift moment, your aura now exuding a sassiness that he would have found adorable if he wasn’t so flustered. Your arms crossed over your chest as your bottom lip jutted out. Oh how he wished you would want him like this when you were sober, when your heart wasn’t broken and you weren’t swimming in a dark sea of emotions brought on by the rejection from Felix. He always said he’d be your source of comfort, but not like this… It wasn’t fair to you or him.
He quickly moved to the kitchen, pulling out two cups for the tea he was about to make. He had left you in the doorway, assuming that you’d stay there pouting until he brought you your drink. Then he felt your arms wrap around him from behind, your face nestling into the dip of his toned back. “Not drunk…” You whispered into the fabric of his shirt. “I just… want you…” His heart skipped a beat at the words, although he knew better than to take it for any kind of confession. “Don’t you want me too?”
For fucks sake, of course he did. Anyone would jump at the offer, but he’d feel awful about it, taking advantage of your raw emotions like this. “Of course I do, bunny. I want you to be warm, and I want you to get some sleep. Your head is probably spinning.” How amazing it was that he could twist the situation into something more wholesome than what was probably going on in your mind right now. He was doing his best at least, but the feeling of your fingers tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, your cold skin lightly brushing against his, was making it far harder than he thought it would be.
“You think I’m ugly… don’t you?” Oh how incredible it was that you could take his words and turn them into something so negative, it left him astounded, incredulous, dumbfounded even. How could you even think that? Had he not told you enough how beautiful he thought you were?
He whipped around, the action causing you to stumble forward against his chest, his hands moving to cup your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. “What are you talking about? You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re being foolish, bunny.” He shook his head as he stared at you, your makeup smudged and your upper lip raw from wiping at your nose so much. You looked pathetic, so pathetically beautiful, how could anyone not love you the way he did? How could someone like Hyunjin hurt you so badly? How could someone like Felix play with your emotions like they were nothing but a game to him?
“Then… Why won’t you kiss me? You’re… You’re lying, aren’t you?” You whispered, moving your hands up to land over his. “I’m not drunk anymore… I just thought… Nevermind. You can leave now.” You tried to pull his hands from your cheeks, but his hold was tight, not painful, but he didn’t let go, his thumbs brushing along your cheek bones as he stared at you with darkened eyes.
“Dammit, bunny…” His tongue darted along his lips before they crashed down against yours, and only then did his hands move, one to your lower back to move you closer to him as the other snaked into your hair, getting tangled in strands of it to hold you steady. It was like electricity, the tingling that he felt as soon as your lips touched, the way his mind so quickly lost every wholesome thought, immediately diving into the gutter. He had tried to push down his want for you for so long, but you had opened up the opportunity, you had given him this chance, you were pleading with him to take it, and why should he deny you of what you wanted?
“Innie!” You whined, tugging at his shirt, pulling him towards the couch. This was the final chance to back out, if he wanted to, but god he really didn’t want to. This would be the only time he could have you like this. Would it make things awkward in the morning? He wasn’t sure, and while that thought worried him slightly, in the moment, he couldn’t care less. “Need you so bad… Innie, please…”
He grunted softly as he pulled you down on his lap, both thanking and cursing everything and everyone that you were wearing a dress, the material riding up your thighs until it sat around your hips, fulling exposing the lace panties that you were wearing, the light pink fabric darkening against your core with your arousal. “Fuck… Bunny, you’re so beautiful…” He panted, his hands moving across your body aimlessly, not even trying to find a place for them to land. He wanted to feel you, he needed to feel you, burn the image of you so needy and desperate for just him into his mind.
“Mn… You’re so perfect…” You breathed, pulling his shirt over his head and letting your fingers trail down his abs, taking a moment to appreciate just how perfect he truly is. Everything about him, the sounds he made, the facial expressions, the way his hands felt on your hips to help guide you, setting the right pace at just the right spot, giving you both the friction that you needed.
“Wanna see you… all of you…” His voice was so husky, so low, just that was enough to have your thighs squeezing around him as the knot in your stomach tightened. A deep chuckle sounded in his chest as he pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders until they hung loosely around your elbows. Your chest was on full display for him, the sight of it right in front of his eyes had him salivating, and without a second thought he latched his lips around one of your nipples, circling his tongue around the bud as his other hand kneaded at your other breast. Your moans filled his ears, how beautiful they sounded as your head fell back and the rolling of your hips became faster against him.
With a small pop of his lips, he pulled back, his eyes lidded as he looked up at you. “More, Innie… Need more of you… All of you…” He knew exactly what you meant and his cock twitched in his pants, he was already rock hard just from kissing you, the head of his dick coated in precum, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d last inside of you, but god, he wanted to feel you wrapped around him so badly.
He gently pushed you up off of him, just long enough to get his pants down, pushing them lower until they were down around his ankles. “C’mere, bunny.” His tone was hushed, his hands reaching out to grab your hips and pull you back down onto him. His cock strained against his boxers, and his breath hitched in his throat when your hand moved down between your bodies, your fingers wrapping loosely around his length.
“So big…” You hummed, tightening your hold around him as you slowly started to stroke his member, your thumb swiping across his tip to collect the precum that seeped out. His head fell back against the couch, his eyes closed as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, his hips bucking up into your hand as quiet whimpers drifted through his slightly parted lips. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, and he had felt such guilt over it, but now that he was finally living out his dream, that guilt was gone. You were making him feel good, better than that actually, he felt amazing, and he only wanted to return the favor. “Want you inside of me.” Your words had him jumping into action quickly, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand from his cock. He was rushing, god he wanted you so fucking bad, and he pulled his dick out through the little hole in his boxers, watching the way your eyes widened momentarily at the size of him.
“You alright?” He murmured, cupping your cheeks once more to pull your face down to his, pressing quick kisses along your lips and across your face. “We don’t have to… It’s alright…” One last chance, one last choice. Did you really want to do this? You blinked a few times, and then got up, and for a moment he felt like you were done, you were backing out. Maybe that’s the way it had to be, he’d never get to fully have you, but he had you enough, and that should be enough.
Your thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties, and you slowly inched them down until they were around your feet. “D-Do you want to…?” You asked, shy once more, your arms folded in front of yourself, blocking him from seeing the beauty that was you.
“Fuck…” Was all he could muster to say, grabbing you once more and pulling you down on the couch, helping you to lay down and making sure the pillows were comfortably under your head before positioning himself between your legs. His hand was wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking it slowly as he slid his tip between your folds, falling in love with your body, the way it reacted to his touch, falling in love with you and the way you looked beneath him. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
This was everything he had ever wanted, everything he needed, to be with you like this. He thought that being friends was enough, being able to sleep beside you and hold your hand, to comfort you when you were upset, he thought that it had all been enough for him, but it wasn’t. It would never be enough after being with you like this. “What are you thinking?” You asked softly, your hands moving up his arms to grip onto his biceps, the muscles beneath his skin flexing under your touch. “Tell me, Innie…”
His head shook before dropping down, his bangs dangling in your face and tickling your nose. “Nothing… I’m alright, bunny…” And he was, he really was, everything in this moment just felt right. There was no other time that he could think of right now that felt just as perfect as this one he was living in. “You alright?”
Your head nodded quickly, your eyes shimmering with anticipation and excitement. “‘Course I am, In.” You whispered, your throat becoming dry from your open mouthed breathing. This could go back and forth for hours, him hesitating, you asking him if he was okay, and him agreeing before returning the question in your direction. It could go on and on until you both ended up laughing at each other, and then nothing would ever come of this moment. He didn’t want that to happen.
“Right… Alright…” Fuck, he was so nervous, but his cock was twitching against his hand, aching to get between the warmth of your folds that were so slick and looked so so very inviting. He lined his tip up with your dripping entrance, and just the feeling of prodding against you had his body going weak, his arm that had been supporting him above you wobbling and threatening to give out.
It wasn’t just the warmth of your juices that had his heart quickening in pace. It was how tight you seemed, the thought of your velvety walls enveloping his cock so completely. “Be easy…” You murmured, your hands pressed against his chest just enough to stop him from pushing in too quickly. “I haven’t… done anything… in…” He could tell you were embarrassed, so his lips met yours to shush you, humming softly into your mouth.
“I know… Let me take care of you, bun.” His lips trailed to the corner of your mouth and across your cheek, his kisses leaving an almost electric tingling sensation along your skin. You sheepishly nodded, holding your breath as you felt him push into you. It was like your first time all over again, the pain of being stretched and knowing that he wasn’t even completely inside of you yet. Your hands fell from his shoulders that you were holding onto so tightly, covering your mouth to muffle your whimpers. “You okay? Tell me…”
You nodded quickly, a small squeak slipping from your mouth the only form of a response that you could give him. You were so cute, all the time, but especially like this, when it felt like you were truly his. He pushed in deeper, the both of you gasping simultaneously when he bottomed out. Your eyes were screwed shut, but his eyes were wide open, looking directly at you, gaging your reaction and your expressions. “Shit… So big, Innie…”
You were stroking his ego right now, and he would have been so smug about it if his thoughts weren’t clouded by how amazing you felt, your walls clamping down around him, so wet, so warm, and all his. “Y-Yeah?” He questioned, his eyes glancing down between your bodies to see himself completely sheathed inside of you, the sight causing his cock to twitch. “Do you… Want me to move or…?”
“Yeah… I mean… If you want to… I-I want you… to…” Why was it that the two of you were so extremely nervous now? Could it be that the multiple shots of liquid courage that the two of you had drunk were now fading, the effects of the liquor wearing off? If it wore off completely, would you want him to stop? Would you realize that what you were doing wasn’t good? God, he hoped not. Maybe by the end of this, you’d end up choosing him, you’d realize he was the only one who could love you and care for you, the only one who wanted to do both of those things for you.
“Anything for you, bun… Anything…” He murmured, lowering his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along your overly sensitive skin as he slowly started moving, rocking his hips in and out of you at just the right pace. He wanted this moment to last, he wanted to enjoy it, but most of all, he wanted you to like it, he wanted you to love it enough to not want to be with anyone else, to not be able to think of anyone else.
You moaned softly, your head tilted to the side to give him better access, and it felt like an even bigger win than being inside of you right now. It was like something inside of him snapped and his lips latched onto your neck, sucking harshly, his tongue lapping against your skin before biting down, loving the way you squirmed and whined underneath him. He was marking you, he’d mark you as much as he could, show everyone that you were his, or at least that you were his for this short moment.
“Innie… m-more… Please…” You whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him back, your eyes boring into his own. Was it love that he saw or was it a simple need? Did you love him just as much as he loved you? “Want more… Need you, Innie…” You were… begging? Begging for him? You really wanted him that much?
How could you be so perfect? How could two people be so perfect for each other and not be together? Was it always destined to be like this? Would he even be able to face you in the morning? It wasn’t the time to think about that, not right now, he could handle it in the morning. Right now, it was all about you, the two of you together for even this small moment, it was bliss, it was like heaven to him.
The way you looked beneath him, the way your moans resonated through the otherwise empty room, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you. If only this moment could last forever, something that he knew would never happen, but he wanted it so badly. If he could stop time and just stay with you, on top of you, inside of you. He’d never have to worry about giving you up, he wouldn’t have to worry about what was to come next, it would only ever be this, it would only be you and him.
Your phone sat on the kitchen counter, left behind during your moment of desperation to be with Jeongin. It had been vibrating nonstop, a sound that you didn’t hear over yours and Jeongins moaning and the creaking of the couch beneath the two of you. Calls and texts flooded your phone, filling up your lock screen, texts and voicemails that would, once morning came, snap you back to a reality where you were sober minded, where you’d have to face what you had done with him and face the rest of the people that had been there to see what had happened. As much as you wished that morning would never come, you knew that that was impossible, you weren’t that lucky, but for the time being, you could enjoy this last moment of peace before everything went to shit.
hi, it's my first time on your blog, ugh i love it here<3
can we talk about how mean felix can get when he discovers the power he holds over you and how you hatt to admit it but secretly love to be handled by him
like fr, his voice in your ear as low as he can just bc you shiver and his hands grabbing your waist just to tell you're hissss, damn
ugh, pleassse sir- 🥵🥵🥴
i’m sure u sent this ages ago but regardless i appreciate u n welcome to the blog !! <333
but no yea let’s talk abt it bc as much as i love sub!lix and we all love sub!lix, isn’t it so much fun to think of sub in the streets dom in the sheets lix?
it ALWAYS catches you off guard because you’re never expecting it. lixie’s funny like that, i think he really likes to be unpredictable. besides, the look on your face is fucking priceless every single time.
his favorite thing to do is catch you when you’re sitting on his lap. first time it happened, you’re hanging out with him and his boys, they’re all playing mario party or something where nobody’s paying explicit attention to y’all. you both are relaxing, you’re kind of curled up in his neck occasionally laughing at something stupid jisung is saying.
then all of a sudden, his hands come creeping up underneath the oversized hoodie you’re wearing. the way his finger tips are gently ghosting over your bare skin naturally makes you shiver but then he’s grabbing your waist firmly. and you can hear the smirk on his face when he laughs softly at sharp inhale. “ohh, that was pretty cute.”
and now you’re fucked. because now that he knows that’s all it takes, you’re so so fucked. he gets the biggest kick out of doing it in front of the other members; one because it’s cute to see you get so flustered in front of them but also almost to prove a point to them.
because of course they’ve joked a time or two about how he’s your baby, and it isn’t that it bothers him…but maybe it does slightly 🥴 so maybe he does want to ruin you in front of his members. maybe he really really does want to finger you during movie night and hear you stutter up a reason for why you’re squirming so much. juuuust maybe.
no cause i would let this yang jeongin r u i n me. his long locks sticking to his forehead, tickling my face when he gets down on his elbows, making our foreheads touch while drilling into my pussy at a speed that makes me see stars 😵💫 his soft groans, the heavy breathing, i can feel it so close to my lips. when i’d let out a particularly loud moan, he’d kiss me to shut me up so i don’t wake up the entire dorm while letting his beautiful hair fall all around my face.
nsfw link https://twitter.com/galIeryx/status/1634650575479484416?t=tOvQ4cdo-kQ0iLioPk54fA&s=19
teasing either 2min or jeongin throughout their whole day just for them to do this to you, or more
nsfw link here
you who's been teasing jeongin the entire day, distracting him when he has work to do, even when he was playing some games on his phone.
at first, he would ask you nicely to stop and let him finish what he's doing but you just kept ignoring what he said and crawl into his lap, leaving some pecks on his jaw and down his neck.
he had enough.
...
"i want you to keep your legs spread for me, understood?" you nod as you held your legs from the back of your knees, watching him discarding his pants and pulling his underwear down, revealing his hard cock you've been wanting for so long. he had you naked already and you thought that you were getting what you want.
"look at this... you are so wet and i didn't even touch you, so pathetic"
then, he started to rub his length all over your wetness, making sure he pays attention to your aching clit and even with the slightest touch, a loud moan escapes your lips. he bent down and kissed you so hungrily, teasing your tight hole with his tip, not even pushing it inside, and he's been doing this for quite long now...
"please... j-just put it in... i need you..." you begged, tears forming already.
"you need me...? awh..." he mocked you. "don't you remember how have you been teasing me all day? now it's my turn" he whispered against your lips and slapped your pussy with his dick.
sharing a bed series part 8/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN.
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pairing: yang jeongin/reader
content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers(&friends2lovers?), sharing a bed trope. reader is older than him but exact age difference is not mentioned. reader was previously married and the ex-husband is described as bad to her, though there are no detailed specifications of exactly what went on. reader going thru some growth, being rude to jeongin, resolving it. the sex is playfully rough, reader mentions "mafia" style romance novels for inspo lmao but it stays pretty tame considering that.
last chapter of the series :)
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Of course it’s raining. On top of everything else that went wrong, of course a torrential downpour would hit your party.
There is a large expanse of wood on the vast acreage behind your house. To break some of the social tension, someone suggested playing hide and seek in the woods on the property. It wasn’t part of your plan but seeing as the party’s awkward tension was your fault, you agreed that an outside game sounded like fun. With the springtime sun beaming down on you and your friends, it seemed like a fine afternoon diversion.
You were already deep into the woods when the storm started. You strayed farther from the main path, confident in your familiarity with the terrain. It did you little good when the weather took a turn. The rain was not slow-coming but an immediate sheet slamming into the ground like blocks of solid concrete. You could barely see in front of you and the uneven earth quickly turned to a muddy sludge. Unsurprisingly, you slipped and twisted your ankle.
Now you are stranded, alone in the forest and far away from everyone else, shivering in the pouring rain as your wispy white dress was not designed for such fickle weather.
You seldom let your emotions get the better of you but today you let yourself cry. The tears come as rapidly as the rain, leaving you gasping and shuddering. You stumble towards a tree and slouch against it, trying to take the weight off your hurt ankle. You doubt anyone would hear you screaming over the storm and from this far away, and you don’t have a phone because this stupid dress doesn’t have pockets so you left it behind.
You are crying against the tree when rescue comes in the form of the last person you want to see.
You lift your head to Jeongin. He is also drenched but the thick denim of his overalls covers most of his body and his heavy-duty sneakers are marginally better than your flats. His glasses are streaked with raindrops and his black hair is a mop on his head. Still, he sees through the foggy glass and the messy bangs, his expression one of surprise and concern.
“Are you hurt?” he asks without hesitation, because of course he does. Jeongin is a good person. You have never met anyone as genuinely sweet as him. The guy is all dimple, his eyes constantly scrunched up with glee, always ready with a humorous comment and a steady hand on a friend’s shoulder.
He also has every reason in the world to hate you. You have done everything in your power to push him away, treating him like an enemy, no doubt convincing him of it.
He never stooped to your level. You are older by a few good years but you have undoubtedly been the immature one. You wouldn’t blame him for abandoning you now.
He doesn’t do that. He rushes toward you, leading with his hand outstretched.
“Where does it hurt?” he asks loudly over the rain.
The emotional parts of you are especially vulnerable right now. When he asks that, you stupidly want to gesture to your heart. Ridiculous and sentimental, you know, you know, but true regardless.
You point to your ankle and he dutifully looks down.
His bangs split unevenly when his long, ringed fingers push through his hair. He shakes his head like it will clear his vision.
“Okay,” he says. He opens his arms. “Come on.”
You hesitate. You have no reason to distrust him but he should distrust you. He should hate you. You want him to hate you. You know what to do when someone hates you. You know what to do when someone treats you badly. You do not know what to do with Jeongin, someone so sincerely himself, sincerely kind, sincerely good. He looks at you with nothing but concern, his arms open with a desire to help.
You suck in another unsteady breath.
“Come on,” he says again, a little more forcefully but not unkindly. He seems more perplexed than angry.
You make a slight motion towards him, still hesitant. He accepts it as an invitation and crosses that last step to swing his arms around you. Your hands find his shoulders as his arm slides under your legs. He hoists you into a bridal hold, so secure that you choke on more tears.
You want to apologize. You want to say so many things. You just hide your face as he carries you away from the tree.
There is a moment of shared panic when he stumbles in the mud, but he finds his footing again. He stops for a second under some thicker foliage, looking around, out of breath.
Your tears have subsided. With the pain alleviated from your ankle, your senses are slowly returning to you. You recognize where you are in the woods: far from the main path and even farther from home, but close to the old hunting lodge. You don’t hunt but your ex-husband did. When you took over the property after the divorce, you turned the little lodge into a cozy getaway. You haven’t visited in a while but it will provide a roof over your head until the rain subsides.
“Turn up past those bushes there,” you say, pointing ahead. “We can get out of the rain until the storm passes.”
You can’t raise your voice too loud, still blocked by residual tears, but you are close to his face. He hears you and does as told.
You crest a small hill and the single-room cabin comes into view. You swear it has never looked so warm and cozy.
He puts you on your feet once you are under the awning. Only when you are at the door do you remember you don’t have any keys on you.
“Fuck,” you say, welling up with exasperation. You slouch against the doorframe. “I don’t have the key. What was I thinking?”
Jeongin takes off his glasses and wipes his forehead. He blinks at the door.
“Um.” He looks at you sheepishly, raking his fingers through his messy hair again. “Do you mind if I—” He gestures with his shoulder to the door. “I don’t want to break it but you’re hurt and—”
“Yes,” you say, cutting him off and looking away. Those dark eyes are brimming with concern and you think your guilt might overflow. You don’t want to cry again. You wipe your nose on the back of your arm. “That’s fine,” you say, steady as you can. “I can get the locks fixed after. Just get us inside.”
He nods and folds up his glasses then awkwardly looks around. He gives you another sheepish look before handing them to you. You take them and hold them against your chest while hopping back on your good foot. You get out of his way, watching him roll up his wet sleeves and mutter something encouraging to himself. He cringes when he thumps into the door and it doesn’t give.
Much as you want to get inside, you don’t want him to hurt himself. After the second heavy thud, you reach out. Before you can stop him, he determinedly throws himself against it.
The lock finally gives. It takes one more shove for the door to fly open. He kicks the broken pieces of the shattered lock aside, too focussed on his task to notice how startled you are by the display. You are still processing it when he scoops you up again. He carries you across the threshold and kicks the door closed behind himself.
It is blessedly dry inside the little lodge but it is also freezing cold from lack of use. You are both soaking wet and the chill wastes no time stabbing its way to your bones.
There is a small couch that folds out into a bed and Jeongin sits you on it. He goes down on one knee as he gently places you down, mindful of your shivering. You look at him, his face not far in this position.
He ducks down, taking your hurt ankle carefully in hand. You hiss, instinctively withdrawing, but he holds you in place.
“How bad is it?” he asks.
“Not too bad,” you say. “Just sore.”
“Are you sure?”
You would say yes even if it wasn’t true. Jeongin kneeling in front of you, holding your foot in his lap, looking so attentive and concerned – it’s all a bit much.
You nod. Satisfied, he moves onto the next thing and reaches past you to hit a light switch. The room stays grey, lit only by the overcast light outside the windows.
“Of course,” you say bitterly, groaning. “Oh, of course the power’s out. Why wouldn’t it be?”
He snorts, his dimples deepening as he looks at you. Your gut instinct is to recoil from the flicker of heat under your skin, to look away from his smile. You let yourself hold his gaze a little longer than usual.
“You’re funny,” he says with another smile. He looks over his shoulder at the same time a shiver crawls up his spine. He shakes his shoulders and looks back at you. “Is that electric or will it work?” he asks, pointing over his shoulder to the unlit fireplace.
“It will work,” you say. You are about to explain how it works when he gets up and goes over without further preamble. You are watching him work when you realize you still have his glasses. “Jeongin,” you say.
He looks back at you, those silver-ringed fingers once more raking through his hair. His face is open as always, attentive, brows lifted. He really is very handsome.
“Yes?” he asks when you are quiet for too long.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” you say and hold out his glasses. “You probably need these.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling up in that delighted way.
“Thank you. They’re just for distance,” he says. “I can see everything in here.”
He turns back to the fireplace and resumes his work. It only takes another second for the flames to sparkle then roar, an orange glow flooding the room. He smiles and claps his hands with satisfaction.
“Not bad,” he says. He is still smiling but his eyes look glassy with faraway thought. His breath of a laugh is not very humorous, smile softer when he says, “I’m not totally useless, I guess, right?”
You close your eyes. You don’t want to see his face. You don’t want to know if he feels good about throwing that at you. You definitely don’t want to know if he feels bad for saying it, because he shouldn’t feel bad. He did nothing wrong.
Jeongin has been nothing but kind to you from the day you met him. You have a mutual friend in common so at first you only saw him in other people’s company. Then your husband hired a team to do some renovations in the kitchen and, by sheer coincidence, Jeongin was one of the crewmen. You started seeing him a lot more often, and in your own home at that.
He was respectful and distant, at first, as was appropriate. Jeongin is nothing if not polite.
Jeongin is also undoubtedly a young man with a strict internal code. The better he knew you, the better he knew your husband. Your husband’s moral compass skewed considerably contrary to the kind-hearted Jeongin. You had thus far survived a bad marriage by pretending the worst of it away. Jeongin’s sudden affection and sympathy – his sudden acknowledgement of your situation being bad – was too much for you to handle.
You reacted badly. He only ever tried to help you but you were not good at accepting help; it meant admitting something was wrong. Even when you finally got around that stage, you still recoiled from his kind eyes and gentle words.
Jeongin likes you as more than a friend. He liked you from the start, when he was puttering around the worksite and you brought him lemonades and laughed with him about nothing.
You liked him too. You still like him. But Jeongin is young and sweet and hopeful and you…
You know it’s silly, but your heart feels used up. Someone like him should be with someone younger and full of equal hope, not you with your mess and baggage and nonsense.
You resented his kindness, his youth, his hope. You didn’t know what to do with his love.
You tried to convince yourself you actually hated him. When that didn’t work, you tried to convince him and everyone else. If you couldn’t hate him, maybe you could make him hate you. Maybe if he hated you, you could both move on. But Jeongin isn’t like that. He just kept moving along, just kept smiling, just kept looking at you like he could see right through your nonsense.
Today you went on a little tirade to your friend. You complained about feeling obligated to invite Jeongin to your party because you shared a friend group. You complained about Jeongin in general, describing things that weren’t true. You claimed he was naïve and annoying and always in your face, but that for all his pestering he never actually did anything useful.
You weren’t exactly careful about who was listening. Apparently, most of the party overheard you.
It was that foolish, twisted feeling: you wanted to be heard because you were bursting inside, but then you realized that was the wrong release. It brought no satisfaction, only shame. You embarrassed him and yourself, and for what?
“Jeongin,” you say in a small voice, already knowing that any and all words will fall woefully short of rectifying the situation. Still, you have to say something. With your eyes still closed and arms still crossed, you sigh and say, “I’m so sorry. You know you’re not— You know I didn’t— You know I don’t—”
You open your eyes. He is illuminated by the fire, all traces of his smile dissolved. He shivers and it seems to pull him out of his trance. He rubs his forehead, then he turns to you and smiles politely.
“It’s okay,” he says with a forced smile. “I’m sorry. Um. Miss. I shouldn’t have said—”
“Don’t apologize,” you say as firmly as you can. “Or speak formally. It’s fine. Jeongin, you— Me— I mean—”
Your stammering is half emotion, half the cold. His expression changes as he seems to recognize that. You are shivering so much your teeth start to chatter. You haven’t even dropped his glasses because it would mean uncrossing your arms.
He gets to his feet so quickly that he almost falls, slipping in the puddle caused by his own dripping clothes.
“D-do you have a phone?” you ask, to which he nods and retrieves it from the front pocket of his overalls. “C-can you call or t-text one of the boys and t-tell them we’re okay? We just need to w-wait out the st-storm. Sometimes th-they last a while.” You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, your gaze on the middle of his chest, but you can see he is shivering too. “We n-need to w-warm up so we don’t get s-sick. There’s sh-sheets— there—can we m-make a bed—” You nod your head vaguely in the right direction.
You close your eyes and rock a little, trying to warm up. It’s useless with your soaking heap of a dress clinging to every wet inch of you.
You can hear Jeongin bustling around, doing everything you asked. When you open your eyes, you see he has made a makeshift bed out of blankets and pillows near the fire.
He is facing away from you. A proper little burst of heat sparks inside you when he takes a breath and starts unclipping his overalls. He kicks off his shoes at the same time. You look away as he strips down his outer layers, sensibly removing his soaking wet things and laying them out by the fire. You open your eyes at the same time he turns to look at you, his hands on the waistband of his briefs. His ears are very red, chest and cheeks likewise dusted pink.
You think your mutual shyness might be providing more heat than the fire.
“Sorry,” he says, grabbing a blanket and covering himself. “It’s just—we should probably take off—” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat.
You find yourself smiling in spite of yourself. You nod.
“No, you’re right,” you say. “S-sorry for, um, looking.”
“That’s okay,” he says with a relieved laugh. He smiles and says, “You can look if you want.”
Jeongin has a remarkable ability to flicker between shyness and confidence. The sparkle in his eyes tells you that his comment was not a thoughtless blunder. Especially because he doesn’t wait for you to look away before tying the blanket around his hips and reaching under to shuffle out of his last article of clothing.
You look away and back again. You suppose he works a fairly laborious job and is in good enough shape to haul you up a small hill, but still. You find your breath stolen by his lean, subtle musculature, an effortless elegance to the long lines of his body.
He smooths down his hair. Your eyes are on his hands when you realize he is looking at you. You look away quickly.
“Haha, um, here,” Jeongin says. He holds up a sheet in offering and turns his face away, eyes closed. “You should change too.”
You stand slowly, arms still crossed though you finally drop the glasses on the seat.
“Thank you,” you say. “For everything.”
He looks at you, probably supposing it is appropriate because you are still dressed, but your thin white dress has soaked completely through. It is plastered to every inch of skin, the vaguest sheen of translucent white pulled over every dip and curve from your neck down.
His gaze jumps, surprised, dark brows lifting as he looks down the whole length of you. His mouth falls open and he looks away with the tips of his ears flaming red. He holds up the sheet again.
“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” you say.
“No, sorry,” he says again. “I know you don’t… always like me…”
You lower the sheet but he still doesn’t look at you. You say his name and he replies with a hum.
“Jeongin,” you say again, heart pounding. “You can look too.”
He fumbles and drops the sheet. He leaves it on the floor and looks at you with surprised eyes.
Despite your words, he awkwardly covers his eyes when you reach for the straps of your dress. Your laughter is breathless from the cold, but he still paints a charming sight with his red ears and hand over his eyes, contrasted to just how lovely those big hands are, to the shape of him, to the flattering shadows cast by the fire.
You peel the dress down and let it hit the floor with a splat. You feel better to have it gone but you are still cold. You instinctively cross your arms again, rubbing your biceps.
“Jeongin,” you say.
“Hello,” he replies, eyes still covered.
“C-can you help me?”
“Oh.” He pauses for a second. “Help you… get undressed?”
You really are too old to act like a little girl with a crush, but you feel that way. You don’t remember the last time you felt like this, if you ever have. It’s nice, a little scary. You feel vulnerable and it has nothing to do with the amount of skin showing.
“Yes please,” you say. “I can’t reach behind me to unclasp my bra.”
“Oh,” he says again. “Oh. Okay.”
You turn around. You give in to your smile, helplessly charmed by his sincerity. Then he is touching you, his proximity radiating warmth, and the next shiver feels like the cold leaving your body all at once. He fumbles a little with the clasp but that might be because his fingers are still stiff, but he gets it undone. He steps back while you remove it. When you turn around, he is already holding the sheet in offering. He doesn’t cover his eyes though he does make a point of only looking at your face.
“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet.
Despite his undoubted gentlemanly politeness, you catch him sneaking a peek before you wrap the sheet around your body. You tuck it under your arms and tie a little knot. Like him, you shuffle out of your underwear from under the sheet.
He gathers your wet clothes and lays them beside the fire with his own. With a little limp, you approach the nest of blankets and pillows, all arranged cozily on the thick, fluffy rug not far from the heat. Even though it is obvious you will have to share the makeshift bed, you still hesitate just outside it. Jeongin is kneeling in the centre, stretching out the clothes so they will dry faster. He looks up when he sees you waiting.
He holds out his hand.
“You should rest your ankle. And warm up,” he says. “You’ll get sick.”
With only a little struggle, you manage to overcome your hesitation. You take his hand and step onto the rug.
You swear more heat alights under his gaze than from the fire.
He shuffles back, making room for you between him and the fire. You would try and argue, to offer him the warmer space, but you doubt he would let you and you are still so cold. You sit down gingerly, minding the sheet. Your movements are mutually stilted and awkward, but then you smile at each other and relax a little. You lay down so you are stretched in front of the fire, Jeongin sitting upright behind you. You gaze up at him, watching him look around the room.
“This place looks different,” he says, an understatement. The ugly little lodge has been redone, stripped of the hunting gear and tables and replaced with a little library and reading nook. There are plants under the window and little paintings on the mantlepiece. It is a lot more welcoming than before.
Perhaps it is that gentle coziness that makes you suddenly braver. This space feels safe. You do not hesitate in raising your hand, in stroking a few fingers softly down his arm. His skin does not feel cold anymore so when he shivers, you don’t think it’s from a chill.
He looks down, blinking those dark eyes at you.
“It’s still a little cold,” you say. You already know your next words are going to be so blatant and so cheesy, so you have to bite your lip to stifle your own amusement at them. “Maybe we should cuddle up for warmth?”
“Oh. Yeah.” He smiles, dimples deep again. “Good idea.”
There is some embarrassed, breathless laughter as you shuffle around. He pulls up a thicker blanket to cover you both. Even with your explicit invitation, he is clearly still uncertain about what you want. You show him, taking his arm and pulling it around you, laying down with your back to him, pressed close and separated only by your individual sheets.
You look into the fire, taking a few deep breaths. You feel him settle around you.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Mhm,” you say. “Definitely.”
“Good. Good.”
You smile, biting your bottom lip again.
You lay there for a while, listening to the fire crackle, letting the heat wash over you. He doesn’t budge an inch, as if scared jostling you will disrupt the peace. His arm is slung over your middle and you touch his hand. You trace your fingers over a ring. He exhales.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, his voice low. “It’s a little serious.”
Your heart races as you know there are a million serious questions he could ask you, but you nod. “Of course,” you say.
There is a breath of a moment. His hand turns under yours, fingertips brushing yours.
“Why,” he says slowly, “would you ever pick that wallpaper?” He points to the far wall. “It’s dark in here and it’s still so ugly it’s hurting my eyes.”
You burst out laughing, caught off guard. Your laughter makes him laugh, his hand catching yours when you lightly slap at him.
“Jeongin,” you say with a little whine, “don’t torture me.”
“I’m not!” he says. “It’s a serious question!”
“Ahh!” You laugh some more, rolling onto your back and covering your face with both hands.
He laughs, tugging at your wrist to uncover your face. You pout at him and he just smiles back. He lays on his side and props his head in his hand, grinning down at you. You take his free hand and trace the shape of his ring again, looking up as his goofy expression softens.
“You’re funny too,” you say. “I’m sorry for being an idiot to you. I was wrong and you didn’t deserve it.”
“You’re not an idiot,” he says softly, looking down at where you are fiddling with his ring. “You were going through a lot.”
“Still,” you say. “I’m a grown woman and I’ve been acting like a child, bullying the nice boy I like because I don’t know what to do with my emotions.”
You thought that would be hard to say out loud, but once it’s out there you feel a lightness in your chest. You take in a deep breath.
“That’s not being an idiot,” Jeongin says after a moment. He curls his fingers around yours and squeezes lightly. “Maybe just a little stupid,” he adds.
You laugh again, rolling to face him and his silly grin.
“I really am sorry,” you say. “I know it’s not enough to say it, but—”
“It’s enough,” he says. “You know, I followed you when you came this way because I wanted to tell you that.” When you cover your face with your hand, he moves it. “Also,” he says, “you were running too far away from everyone else. They wouldn’t have found you if you hid so far out here, you know.”
“That’s the point of the game,” you say. “It’s hide and seek.”
“Yeah, but…” His free hand finds yours again. He looks into your eyes. “I don’t think winning like that is actually fun? If you’re alone, and never let anyone find you again.”
Oh. Of course Jeongin would ask ‘a serious question’ to spring a joke on you, then sneak the truly serious topic in a discussion of hide-and-seek.
You drop your gaze to your joined hands.
“I guess,” you say. “I guess also it’s… um, well.” You figure you might as well drop the metaphor as it isn’t fooling anyone. “You don’t get hurt when you’re alone, Jeongin. And the happier something makes you, the worse it feels when it hurts you.”
“I would never hurt you,” he says, completely serious. He squeezes your hand.
You look at him, smiling gently. You know that promise is a big one, and nearly impossible as people can hurt each other without trying. The declaration is innocent but also heartfelt. You understand what he means.
He seeks your gaze to ensure you understand him, so you look at him and nod. You feel a bit watery again.
“I know you would try,” you say. “Is it stupid how that scares me even more?”
“Oh,” he says, separating his hand from yours so he can cup your face. You think he is going to say something tender when he just smiles and nods and says, “Yeah, probably.”
You snort with laughter, grabbing his hand and moving it off your face.
“You’re terrible,” you say.
“Maybe,” he says, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “But… you’re the one who likes me, or so you said…”
“I take it back,” you say, starting to roll away.
He grabs your shoulder and pulls you back, giggling. “You can’t take it back,” he says. “We’re sharing a bed so… that’s the rules.”
“Oh, really.”
“Yes. Sorry.”
You find yourself endlessly charmed by him. His cocky smile is cute, especially because the tips of his ears are still red. You find yourself tracing the curve of that ear, his blush darkening with your attention. His smile turns affectionate, his eyes creased with happiness. The unremitted pleasure draws you in and grants you access to the more confident parts of yourself. You let your body lead you, experience fueling instinct as you guide him onto his back and lean over him.
You touch the side of his face, fingertips tracing his jaw. His mouth opens and he blinks away his surprise.
“What?” you say.
“Nothing.” His smiles widens. He raises a hand to touch the side of your face too, surprising you in turn. “You’re pretty.”
The simplicity of the compliment makes you a little shy. You smile, leaning into his touch.
“You’re cute,” you say, only for his face to scrunch up with theatrical displeasure. “What?” you say, laughing. “You are!”
“Puppies are cute,” he says dryly. “Babies are cute. I’m not cute.”
“You are.” You can’t help but tease, his smile encouraging you. You poke his dimple. “Soooo cute. The cutest.”
You laugh until he slides one hand around the back of your neck. With his hand protectively cradling the back of your head, he flips you over so it’s you laying under him. You find yourself looking down the length of him, his chest and abdomen, the place the blanket parts. You look up when his nose nudges your chin, tilting your head back. You realize you were holding a breath and swallow one down, shaky.
He laughs but gently.
“You’re cute,” he says, voice barely louder than the crackling fire.
“I’m not cute,” you say, tipping your chin up. “I’m older than you.”
“Sooo cute,” he copies you. “The cutest.”
You realize this game of one-upping each other could quickly turn into a torturous teasing session – each of you just looking, daring, goading the other into more without fully surrendering.
You smile and tip your head, sighing in a feathery-soft voice and wetting your lips.
“Am I?” you ask, lifting a leg so it separates your sheet. You can see his breath catch.
You have butterflies inside you, fluttering away like never before.
You undo the knot of the sheet. You watch his eyes lower as you slowly peel the whole sheet open. All the playfulness leaves his face, his jaw gone slack, surprise once again taking over as he stares.
“Wow,” he finally says. “Wow. You’re— wow.” His expression shows he means it.
“You’re exaggerating.” You turn your face aside.
“I’m not,” he says. His hands move to either side of your head as he holds himself over you. It draws your gaze back to him. “Stop hiding, okay?” he says softly.
“I think I’m doing the opposite of hiding right now,” you say, a gentle joke that he answers with utmost seriousness: swooping down and kissing you.
It is not a soft kiss, burning and wanting, his mouth a hungry thing against your own. It feels like a kiss he has thought about, a kiss he can’t help but hurry towards.
Just as desirous, you fall too, the kiss so hard that you find it hard to slow down. He eventually guides you to a gentler press, closing his lips against yours, letting them linger.
A breath passes between you.
“Remember when you hated me,” he says, smiling, “and you tried to convince me we were incompatible?” He kisses you softly. “I think you were wrong.”
He doesn’t leave room for a reply. He kisses you again, just as hotly as before. This time he rests more of his body against yours and you can feel where he is already hard beneath the blanket. You can also feel it is more than substantial, drawing a gasp from your lips as he presses against you.
“Jeongin,” your voice comes out breathless. It is still more coherent than his reply, which is just a grunt as he starts kissing down your throat.
It is dizzyingly hot. You have to close your eyes to stay grounded, arching against him, running your fingers through his already messy hair.
You are still able to giggle when he struggles to remove the blanket. He laughs back. You can’t remember the last time you laughed during sex. It makes you feel like you are floating, light and carefree, driven by pleasure and nothing else.
He gets the blanket off but before you can look down, he is sliding his hand between your bodies. Your eyes close again, head falling back as his fingers stroke your inner thigh. He teases there for a long time, making you strain and buck and chase his fingers. Finally you whimper and grab some of his hair, pulling his face close to yours.
“Are you trying to make me hate you again?” you tease.
He smiles against your lips, his fingers just barely brushing between your legs. Your thighs part, making room, but he waits.
“You never hated me,” he says.
Your reply gets caught in your throat when he finally slides one finger against you. It is torturously not enough.
“Jeongin,” you say again, running your fingers to the back of his neck. “Please.”
“Tell me you hated me,” he says, even while proving you very much do not hate him: gathering so much wetness on his fingertips, lightly circling them up and over the most sensitive part of you. “Can’t you?” he asks. “Let me hear you say it.”
“I—I—”
“Hate me?”
You shake your head, opening your eyes to look at him imploringly. You gasp against his lips when he slides that finger inside you. There is a ring on the one beside it, the smooth ridge gliding against you. You cant your hips up, wanting more while he teases you.
“You don’t hate me,” he says, to which you shake your head again. He kisses you, licking into your mouth at the same time his fingers sink deep inside you. He is good with his hand, his fingers long and steady, working you up until you are soaking him and clawing at his shoulder.
“Please,” you say, dizzy from the stars bursting in every place his fingers reach. They curl inside you as if telling you to come. Your head falls back and his lips go down your throat as he brings you over the edge with his touch.
He doesn’t stop when you come, drawing the whole thing out so the peak seems to last minutes. Tears of pleasure spring to your eyes. Only when you are gasping does he carefully withdraw his hand.
He looks at you with a smile then kisses your cheek. With a smile, you lean in to kiss him, then he suddenly ducks. His hands dive under your thighs and then his face is right there, tongue taking a swipe at your still distended clit, making your whole body shudder. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding on and closing your eyes. It feels so good but you are still sensitive and not good at coming multiple times in a row, so after enjoying his very adept movements, you tug on his hair to lead him back up your body.
You grab his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself all over his wet mouth. He moans into your mouth and presses hard against you. His hands cradle your hips. You spread your legs around him.
You feel lighter after coming. Relaxed, not just physically. Suddenly words are easier too, spoken thoughtlessly in such close proximity to his lips.
“I wanted you so much,” you admit. “For so long. Even when I was pretending to hate you.”
“I was here,” he says, kissing along your jaw. “I’m still here.”
“I know.” You tug on his hair, tipping his head back so you can kiss his face too. You nip under his jaw, his neck, luxuriating in the sound he makes. “This is going to sound silly, but I used to fantasize—no, never mind.”
“Wha—”
You roll him over before he can ask, taking a turn to work your mouth down his body now too. It sufficiently distracts him as your mouth dives down, down, down. You pause for a moment just to look at him, your gaze one of admiration and maybe slight intimidation. You haven’t slept with anyone since before the divorce and that was a while ago. Jeongin is bigger than most of your toys. When you put your mouth on him, you barely get past the head before you have to use your hand for the rest of him. You try to take a little more but you are very out of practice, choking a little and drooling all over him.
It used to confuse you: the idea anyone would enjoying giving pleasure this way. For the recipient, it made enough sense, but not as the giver. You realize now that difference in desire was partner. When Jeongin moans and curls his fingers into the rug, thighs parting to make room for you to comfortably sit there, you understand. Messy as it is, you eagerly dive back down, wetting him with your mouth and working him in your hand.
When he closes his eyes and drops his head back, he misses the pillow. The rug is plush and softens his landing, but you still hear a very heavy thump when his head hits the ground. He hisses, his face scrunching up in pain as he reaches to cup the back of his head.
“Oh my god,” you say, sitting up and wiping your mouth. You try not to laugh. “Jeongin, are you okay?”
He gives you a thumbs up with his free hand. Then he curses and sighs in exasperation.
“My hand is stuck,” he says, jerking the arm that is folded under his head. “My ring—is in my hair—”
“Oh nooo…” You are laughing properly now, in a fit of giggles as you climb up beside him to look behind his head. You help untangle the hair from the ring, though a few strands still get yanked out of his head. The sudden swing makes his head bounce, thunking into yours. You both groan in pain. You grasp your forehead and sit back on your heels.
“This is not how I pictured this going,” he mumbles.
“Which part? The storm, the threat of hypothermia, or the multiple injuries?” you ask.
He grins at you, then moves to kneel in front of you. He kneels upright while you are sitting back, putting you close to eye level with your previous task. You look there, reaching, but he takes your hands in his and holds them.
“Actually,” he says, “the part that surprised me most was you saying you thought about us,” he smiles here, “and it was so bad you couldn’t even admit it.”
You try to cover your face but he holds your hands, still grinning. You throw back your head and groan.
“It’s not bad,” you say.
His hand runs up your arm to your neck, thumb stroking your chin as he gently pulls you forward. You go up on your knees too, following his angle for a kiss. He leans close but doesn’t seal it, saying, “You know if you don’t tell me, I’m going to imagine the worst.”
“It’s nothing,” you say, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder. He pats the back of your head, still giggling to himself. You lean back to look at him again, pouting just a bit, then reaching between your bodies to take him in hand. You smile sweetly at him. “Can we fuck?” you ask, watching the flicker of surprise and desire cross his face. “Birth control, so I’m good if you’re good. Come on.”
You go to lay down but he catches the back of your neck, pulling you back to him. He lifts one eyebrow.
“You’re not gonna let this go,” you say dryly.
“I would never force it out of you,” he says, “but the curiosity is killing me.”
“Well,” you say, tingling under the attention of his intense gaze, of his hand so strongly holding your neck, of his nonchalance. He isn’t even trying. You take a deep breath. “It’s sort of what you just said.”
“What… killing me? You wanted to kill me?”
“No!” You smack his chest. “I hate you again. No. I just… Not that I wanted to the truth forced out of me but…” You look at his face, his expression curious but not judgemental yet. “You know all those cheesy romance novels? Like… mafia leader stuff? That.”
“You wanted me to be Italian?”
“Genuinely gonna kill you.”
“I’m kidding, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, continue.”
“You know what I mean! The button popping and bodice ripping stuff.” You mime tearing his nonexistent shirt open. “I liked you and I wanted to do something about it, but I also didn’t want to do something about it. So I wanted you to do something about it. No one needs to tell me what it’s like for a shitty guy to take advantage of you, so that’s not what it was— I just—” You sigh. “I wanted it to be easy. I wanted it to be you. Because you aren’t a shitty guy. You’re the best guy I know. So I would’ve let you have anything, because you would be taking what I wanted to give. And there would be no need to talk about it or work it out. It would just be… easy.”
“I like talking,” he says, tipping his head as if studying you. “But I think I get it.”
“Mhm?” you ask, a little dryly. You quirk an eyebrow at his cheesy, dimpled grin. “Sure about that?”
“Yes,” he says, smiling so bright it goes right up to his eyes. “I’m sure.”
His grip tightens on the back of your neck, pulling you right up against him. Your chests press together and you gasp, shivering when his lips graze your ear.
“Like this, right?” he speaks lowly. He threads his fingers into your hair, close to your scalp so there is a controlled, gentle burn when he tugs. “Just take.”
“Yes,” you say, rasping. “It’s already yours.”
“You’re mine?” he asks. His other hand is suddenly between your legs and this time he doesn’t tease, his knuckle parting your wet folds. Two fingers curl inside you. “Or this is mine?”
He tugs your head back, looking in your eye as he finger-fucks you, all the playfulness gone from his expression. His sharp features look suddenly more severe: the cut of his jaw, his cheekbones, his brow. You swallow hard.
“I can’t say,” you speak in a husky voice. “My husband would be angry. You should go before he finds you.”
His fingers move out of you, your thighs shaking in their withdrawal. The hand in your hair stays steady. Then he squints, looking almost cartoonishly fierce when he says, “I’m in the… mafia. I killed your husband?”
“Oh.” You bite back a laugh. “You don’t literally need to be in the mafia.”
“You did say—”
“That was just, like, a genre example—”
“Oh, okay, I get it now.” He nods his head. “I’ll stop if you say stop.” He clears his throat. “You don’t want a guy like that. And you don’t want your husband.” He puts a hand on your lower back and tugs, sweeping you over. His arms hold you safe as he spills you onto your back. One hand skims your body, hooking under your knee to bring it up around his hips. “You want me,” he says.
The gleam in his eye seems very genuine.
“That would be inappropriate,” you say, not needing to fake your breathy voice when he moves against you, the length of him hot and hard and close to where you want him. You clench around nothing, your heart picking up in speed with anticipation.
He smiles, not quite his usual smile.
“It would be very inappropriate,” he says.
Then his hands are on your hips and he is turning you onto your front. You sprawl with some genuine surprise, getting your arms under you only seconds before his hand is back in your hair. You lift when he pulls, his grip careful but strong. He holds you there, up on your hands and knees. He goes up on one knee behind you, careful when pushing inside you, then sliding in all the way and staying there.
Oh, you feel him. Not just because it’s been a while. You let yourself enjoy it, happily sinking into pleasure with the secure knowledge he will listen if you ask to stop, that his pleasure is tied to yours. So you let your mouth fall open and eyes close, let the heat of the flames brush over you, let him hold you how he wants. You take as much as he does, soaking in all that sensation. He fills you up and fucks you deep – fast then faster. You squeeze around him, practically singing with how you moan and sigh.
“Yes,” he says, pulling you back into his arms as he moves to lay on his side. He stays inside you, drawing your leg up and fucking you like that.
You look back at him and don’t mind at all when he breaks character, yet again, this time to kiss you sweetly.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he asks in a whisper, slowing down. “You’re so… small.”
“I’m not,” you say with a little laugh. “You’re just big, baby.”
“Baby—okay. That’s good. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know, Jeongin,” you say, hiccupping a little because he is still fucking you hard despite his gentle words. It makes you feel a little insane in a good way, him so very nonplussed as he screws your brain out. “Thank you,” you say.
“For what?” he asks.
“I don’t knooow,” you say, reaching behind you to hold onto him. “Just thaaank you, auugh, it’s good.”
“Oh, I get it,” he says. “For this. Okay.”
How he’s simultaneously cute and insanely sexy, your brain will just never compute. But he wraps an arm around you and puts his hips to use, fucking you until you can feel an orgasm building without even rubbing your clit. You think to try but all you can do is cling to him, letting your worries fly away as he pants and groans and holds you steady in his arms.
“Like that, like that,” you say, your last coherent sentence until you fall apart, repeating his name as he follows you over the edge.
He holds you tight, kissing whatever he finds first. He rocks you through the end of it, easing you into rest. When he pulls out, you shiver, and it has nothing to do with the cold.
You roll over in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kisses your cheek and temple, then rests his forehead against yours.
“I’m not cold anymore,” you say, making him laugh lightly.
“Me too,” he says.
“Thank you,” you say, leaning back to look at him. “For everything.”
He smiles that smile you love, cupping your face.
“Thank you,” he says, “for showing me your hiding place. Can I come here again with you?”
Joking right after sex was never a habit before, but you find yourself bursting into a silly grin and saying, “Baby, you already know you can come wherever you want—”
It makes him laugh too, the unexpectedness sending him over. You laugh at him laughing so much, curling up close to him with the heat of the fire at your back.
The cabin is warm. Your clothes are probably long since dry. The storm stopped a while ago and you only notice now.
thinking about boyfriend jeongin and exhibitionism…
he was never one for extreme pda, even pushing his own friend away when they wanted nothing but a hug. with you, it was hardly any different. jeongin is okay with hand holding, the occasional bear hug when he thought no one was looking, other than that he tended to lean away from skinship. of course, he showed his love for you in other ways. acts of service and words of affirmation his general love language.
emphasis on acts of service.
jeongin knew he had a lengthy day ahead of him at work and there was going to be a lot of down time between rehearsals, the performance, and other things during their appearance on another music show. he also knew it had been so long since you’d gotten to spend the day together. so he invited you along with the hopes that he could spend that downtime with you.
you were good enough friends with everyone that no one batted an eye when you were chilling on a chair in front of the makeup station, waiting for the members to be done with their rehearsals. one by one they came back into the room, lightly sweaty and out of breath. except your boyfriend. when you asked hyunjin where jeongin was, he shrugged and nudged over his shoulder.
following his direction, you left towards the hallway and found what you were looking for. jeongin was leaning on a vending machine with his forearm, having to bend over just to look at the snacks on the middle shelf.
he was just in some grey sweats and a white shirt, but the sweat had made the fabric stick to his skin and the sleeves were rolled up, biceps on display so delectably.
“oh, I was gonna surprise you with some these,” he gestured to the package at the bottom of the machine, taking it and shoving it in his pocket.
“you aren’t gonna give it to me?” you laughed, coming in closer and poking his exposed arm.
putting both hands behind his back and looking down at you, the dimples in his cheeks pooled deeper with mischief. “if you want it, go and get it.”
musing him, you raised an eyebrow and put your hand into his pocket, feeling around for the snack. damn men and their deep pants pockets. the food wasn’t the only package you found.
he was hard, not uncharacteristically so. with your fingers lingering over the tip through the fabric, you peered up at him, “you’re insatiable.”
“and you still haven’t taken your hand out.” he leaned in to capture your lips, though you only allowed him a peck while applying just enough pressure to his tip to get him to lowly whimper.
before you knew it, jeongin dragged you into the stairwell at the furthest end of the hall. it was cold and quiet, the sounds of your shoes on the tile echoing up and down. he hadn’t detached his lips from yours as he pinned you against the railing, forcing your hand out of his pocket and down the front of his pants instead. you giggled at his enthusiasm, allowing him a few dry pumps of his cock.
“need you so bad,” he whined into your mouth. as much as you make fun of him, your sex drive is just as high. it didn’t take much convincing to get you to turn around and pull your pants down, bending over the railing.
“oh, you’re so good. I’ve trained you so well, pretty.” jeongin didn’t bother pulling his sweats down all the way, his dick slapping against his stomach.
you were almost getting impatient, wiggling your ass and looking over your shoulder at him. he took another glance at your doe eyes— wide, watery, and begging him to fuck you. that look itself was almost enough to make him cum untouched, suddenly feeling emotional that he found someone as perfect for him as you.
and when he pushed his tip into you, jeongin swore he had a dry orgasm.
there was no slow or gentle start. from the get-go, he pounded into you like it was what he was born to do. the dull sound of your bare thighs against his sweats was a dead giveaway to anyone on any floor if they’d just open the door. his head fell back with an open mouth, eyes shutting right at the feeling of your warmth engulfing him. you were holding onto the railing tightly, if you weren’t you were sure he would’ve hammered you over it.
then a lewd moan escaped your bitten lips. instantly, jeongin wrapped his handover your mouth, hoisting your upper body into his and deep thrusts turning into quick staccatos.
“shut up. do you want everyone to hear how good I fuck you?” you tried to fight back the whimper that was muffled against his palm. his hips slowed stalling in you balls deep. “oh? you like the sound of that, baby? should I open the door? maybe someone will walk by and see your eyes rolled back or drool running down your pretty face.
“my perfect slut. yeah, trained you so good. ready to take me anywhere. wouldn’t it be so much better with an audience? I could call hyunjin in here. maybe we could inspire some of artistic creativity.”
I saw you said you take requests and I just have not been able to get the thought of an agnsty smutty friends with benefits nightmare with seungmin 😣 I just feel like he could be so emotionally closed off it could be such a mess but I want it so bad 😩also I love you’re writing and feel free to ignore this if you’re busy or don’t feel inspired by it 🤎🤍🤎
eeeeeeee this was super fun hehehehehe. I hope you like it!!
Jealousy, Jealousy
KSM
Masterlist
wc: 2.4k
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, fwb!seungmin, afab!reader, angst!!, semi public/car sex, protected sex, marking, scratching, possessive seungmo, alcohol consumption but neither of them are drunk (consent is key!), heart been broke so many times befooore
When the alcohol starts to taste like water, you know that you should stop. You know, but you don’t, tolerance built too high at this point that it truly feels like you’re drinking just water. You also know that the neon lights can make anyone look decent enough to sleep with if you squint hard enough. But he looks good enough to fuck all the time, like all the time. It’s fucking annoying.
Hair pushed back and sleek dress shirt made Seungmin’s frame look taller than usual, stronger and more pronounced shoulders shielded around your body and away from any onlookers– or moreso, your friends. He had pulled you onto the crowded dance floor to talk, of all things you could be doing instead. Seungmin stole the half empty drink from your hand and downed it to get your attention, which he had all of now.
“Stop being jealous. It’s not a good look on you,” he leaned down to speak into your ear, arm simultaneously draping around your waist and slowly swaying to the sound of the deep bass.
“Funny, I was thinking you could be a model in the desperation catalog,” you couldn’t help but mindlessly dance with him.
You recalled the reason he had you secluded away from your shared group of friends, Seungmin had seemed to be getting a bit too cozy with a girl at the bar which ended up making you just so happen to stumble into Minho’s lap. It was an accident, you’d reached for more alcohol and tripped into his arms just as Seungmin came back. You were going to get off of him immediately but he’d held onto you, keeping you sat and unable to move. The past hour you spent cuddling up to Minho, you also watched Seungmin from the corner of your eye. He didn’t seem to be remotely bothered until you got up to use the bathroom and he steered you off course.
“Your comebacks are getting better, pretty. You’ve been spending too much time with me.” His hand drifted further down, cupping your ass and tugging so you were chest to chest.
“Kinda have to speak to each other if I’m gonna start picking up on your lingo.”
“I’m speaking to you now, aren’t I?”
“By choice? Don’t make me laugh,” you snickered and pushed away from him, turning to walk away but he’d grabbed your hip and brought you back.
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” The sly smile on his face only looked sexier because it was for you. His smile was always for you, but hidden away from anyone that mattered. His argument, that what did it matter if anyone knew or didn’t? It didn’t change how he felt about you.
That just leaves you with more questions and more overly acknowledged feelings, how does he feel about you? Something Seungmin always found a way not to answer. You didn’t expect to start having romantic feelings for him when you agreed to be fuck buddies, no way in hell was that on your bingo card. But here you are anyway, helplessly in love with the one guy who refused to be in any sort of relationship that required caring about anyone but himself. What made it even worse? He’d told you from the very beginning, months ago, that there were gonna be no feelings involved, from him or from you whether you liked it or not.
Seungmin pouted for a quick second before the neon lights shifted and casted a shadow across his face, blurring any remnants of something other than lust.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, lips meeting the shell of your ear and nibbling gently.
“Actually, I told Minho I’d have a few more drinks with him. Can’t let him down,” you pushed him away softly, looking over Seungmin’s shoulder in search of the other man you’d known was out of sight.
He’d let out a loud scoff, hand dropping to slap against his thigh. Raising an eyebrow, you quirked, “you’re right. Jealousy isn’t that sexy, afterall.” You reached up to tap his cheek mockingly, to which he’d caught your wrist and held on tightly. Seungmin dragged your body back in to smash against his. You could feel his erection against your stomach, clearly straining in his pants needing release.
“”M not jealous. I just don’t share my toys.”
“Who ever said I’m yours? I’m not the one crying for a wet pussy to stick my dick in. If anything, you’re mine with the way you’re begging.”
Anger spread across his face, watching his nose twitch at your blunt words. This was how you got him in your bed in the first place, Seungmin was a sucker for the back and forth shit talk, as were you apparently. Though, he usually caved rather easily once he was hard. Now, through the bright purple you could tell he was red in the face.
Check mate, “I’m gonna go find Minho.”
You pushed past him, taking your empty glass from his hand in the process. Just as you’d made it off the dancefloor and could see your group of friends and Minho, making eye contact and smiling at him, Seungmin emerged behind you and stole you away once more. You cursed at the roughness of which he manhandled you out of the club and tossed you over his shoulder to throw into the backseat of his car. Not without a fight, though your fist weakly slamming against his back may as well have been replaced by tufts of feathers seeing as he didn’t so much as flinch and deciding to give up.
Landing on your back, Seungmin lifted your legs to wrap around his waist and closed the door behind him, now leaning over your body. “What the fuck is your problem?” You shouted in his face.
“You don’t want Minho. You just want a reaction. Now look, I’m fucking reacting. Are you happy?” Seungmin kept you pinned down with his hands next to your head, crotches pressed together and the roughness of his jeans made it difficult not to move against. You could tell he felt it too, biting his lip in hesitation.
“No, I’m not happy.” The loud tone of your voice made Seungmin flinch back, not angry nor sad, simply helpless. For a second he ran through all the unprocessed panging emotions in his chest before shoving them back down, throbbing in his pants overriding his brain.
“How can I make you happy?” He called back even though the two of you were only inches from one another.
Neither of you said anything, both equally taken aback by his question, eyes searching for blatant answers he always chose to ignore. Then your body moved before your brain could say no, crashing your lips into his.
Your hands slipped under the back of his shirt and raked nails down his spine while Seungmin’s hips grinded against your clothed pussy, moans mixing in one another’s mouths. Tongues and spit made the kiss slippery, messy as he sat back on his hunches to undo his pants and lift your dress around your torso. There was only a brief moment where he paused once his pants and underwear were pulled down around his thighs and the kiss turned soft. His hand came up to cup your cheek and melted against you, pressing closed-lipped smooches to distract from him pulling your underwear to the side.
The moan you let out when his fingers slid through your folds made him chuckle into your mouth and lose the sweetness of the kiss. As soon as you had a taste, Seungmin made sure to remind you of what you were here for, what he was here for.
He collected your arousal and used it to circle your clit smoothly, making you yelp in surprise when his head fell down to bite roughly into your neck, sure to leave a mark. That was something he never did, Seungmin was sure to never leave any evidence of your agreement. But now he was moving with intention, purposely placing deepening bruises in the most obvious area while you rubbed your bundle of nerves against his hand.
“Stop being a fucking tease,” you murmured and reached between your bodies for his cock, hot and leaking.
“This not making you happy? People will know you’re mine,” Seungmin grumbled back, continuing his assault to your skin with his teeth and letting you stroke him.
“No. You know what will.”
Seungmin incoherently mumbled into you once more before finding your lips again, blindly reaching for his wallet for a condom and swatting your hand away to roll it on. You were about to complain about his rudeness when the blunt head was pressing against your entrance and slowly sinking in, mind falling blank. The car windows were foggy as he bottomed out and bent your knees to your chest, readjusting by pulling your ass further out from under you so you were folded in half. He slid that much deeper and nudged your soft spot, whimpering without filter as your eyes screwed closed.
“Haven’t even done anything yet, pretty,” Seungmin mocked you, smiling to himself and testingly pulling out just to plunge back into you. Lewd sounds filled the car even more, wetness coating his cock with every short, sturdy thrust. His hands were keeping him up on either side of your head. Just to have something to grab onto, you reached up and held onto his wrists, nails digging into his skin.
The longer his movements stayed minimal, the louder you became. Seungmin kept his eyes trained on your face, watching every change in expression. Until you opened your eyes and found him staring, then he closed his and head fell back. The way he avoided it made your cunt clench, doing so on purpose. His pull out, tighten. Push in, relax with him.
“Fuck– doesn’t even feel like I’m pulling out.”
Seungmin shuffled around again, stealing back his hands but replacing your grip onto his biceps so he could push your knees harder against your chest. His thrusts picked up into a full pounding, skin on skin bouncing around the vehicle and for sure making the car shake. You clawed up and down his arms, leaving darkening red streaks along his pale skin. In a way, you were marking him the same way he did to you and it made you proud.
Unholy noises were falling from both your mouths, even more when you let go of his arm to rub at your clit again. The action made him pause and flick your hand away the way he did earlier, replacing your touch with his. You kept your unbound knee to your chest and let him work you up further, dizzy at how well he knew your body.
“Still think Minho could fuck you this good? Still wanna play stupid games you can’t win, pretty?” You whined and whimpered without a straight answer, but that was telling enough. “Didn’t think so. You belong to me. I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”
You were covered in sweat, body overheating, and on the verge of your orgasm when Seungmin leaned over to bury his head in your neck to leave even more marks. He rubbed harder, faster, just the way you liked and combined with the pain of his teeth breaking your skin, your vision went white with ecstasy. He didn’t slow down, didn’t stop even as your high subsided and used you to chase his own. You pulled him from his hiding place by the back of his hair and stared into his eyes, only whispering, “cum,” and he did. You milked him through his orgasm with hard, steady pulses of your walls until the condom was full.
Seungmin didn’t move, exhausted and shocked that he could come on command. You were surprised as well at how he responded, but chose not to say anything about it as not to scare him away. That was the last thing you wanted.
He pulled out once he started to grow flaccid, pecking your lips a few times and tying off the condom. You don’t know what he did with it, only focusing on adjusting your panties and thinking about what you were going to say to your friends when you met up with them again.
That was your plan, give him an acknowledging smile and go back inside to try and forget about his stupid smile and stupidly good cock that gives you stupidly good orgasms because you were just a hole and he was just a dick to ride.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
Seungmin helped pull your dress down and stuffed himself into his pants before opening the door to back out of the car. As you clambered out, he held his hand out for you to take. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take you home,” he closed the door as you stood up straight just to back you against the side of the car.
His face centimeters from yours, hands on your waist and smirking down at the evidence of his presence on your skin. The marks were full bruises now, entirely too noticeable to even consider going back inside without an interrogation. You snuck a peak at his arms to find them covered with a jacket, no telling of you on him. Your face visibly fell, quickly noted by him and making up for it with a chaste kiss. He didn’t let you escape, nowhere to go between him in front and the cold metal of the car at your back.
It was getting harder to be upset the longer his lips lingered on yours, he was letting you card your fingers through his hair and keep his body against yours by the loops of his pants, all in public where anyone could see. You wished someone would. That is, until his hips pressed against your stomach once more and felt his dick solid again. You sighed into his mouth, hearing him chuckle as he pulled away. “C’mon, pretty. Let me take you home,” he asked again.
“Why should I?” You challenged, not entirely ready to let go of him.
Leaning in to your ear, whispering even though no one was around, “I’ll fuck you so good you, you won’t know how to do anything but cum.”
The thought was tempting. So tempting that you giggled and nodded, letting him kiss you one more time, saccharine and gentle. He opened the passenger door for you, closing it and running around to the driver seat. Seungmin started the car and began the drive to your place, his hand on your thigh and climbing higher.
Content, warm, giggling about the condensation rolling down the windows, so blissfully blind, you asked the million dollar question. “Will you stay the night?”
His hand retreated, “you already know the answer.”
changbin and and and pussy slapping :((( need. would fix all my problems
maybe framed as a punishment but he knows u love it !!
"aw.. your pretty little pussy is leaking all over me..? do you like this? when i treat you like a little slut? huh? i want you to cum like this, then. c'mon now."
-dizzy
🏷️ dom!changbin, pussy slapping, crying, unprotected sex, mc is called doll, baby
your walls are still fluttering around his fingers when he pulls them out, landing another harsh slap on your swollen clit.
"give me another and i'll consider fucking you."
tears spring to your eyes and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out loud. changbin chuckles and slaps your pussy again. he loves watching you fall apart underneath him.
"'s t-too much," you whimper, hands gripping at his bicep. you know you deserve this. you'd been acting like a spoiled brat earlier; he had been working on a track but you kept vying for his attention, trying to get him to bite and bend you over the nearest surface. instead you'd ended up with his fingers buried deep inside your pussy while he slapped and pinched your clit until you were reduced to a squirming, dripping mess.
"you were the one clawing at me like a desperate little kitten earlier," changbin grips his cock and drags it over your slit, "isn't this what you wanted?"
you nod, the feeling of his cockhead nudging your clit overwhelming. you need him inside right now. "please fuck me, bin —"
"okay, i will," changbin starts and slaps your pussy with his cock this time, pushing your hips down against the couch to hold you still, "but only if you give me another one first."
he wets his cock with your arousal, circling your hole but not pushing in. you need him so bad you think you might cry if he doesn't fuck you soon. frustration forms a lump in your throat.
changbin notices the tears brimming at your waterline and laughs, a soft rumbling deep in his chest. the sound of it fills you with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
"you're gonna cum at ten, doll. and i want to see you cry."
his knees keep your thighs spread for him. any attempted resistance would be futile; he's much stronger than you are — and he knows it.
"count for me." his voice drops low with desire. he smacks your clit again and you whimper.
"ah! o..one."
"there's my good girl." changbin licks his lips and soothes your throbbing bud with the head of his cock, lightly stroking it.
heat rises to your cheeks. you're almost as eager for his praise as you are for his cock, deliciously thick and leaking precum. you close your eyes and wait.
another slap. "t-two."
once eight comes around your cheeks are stained with tears and changbin's grunting with every hit. you're leaking all over his cock, your pussy so swollen he knows you'll hug him so tight he'll never want to pull out again.
"nine," you sob, blurred vision swimming as the knot in your tummy tightens.
you take a ragged breath and ready yourself for number ten. what you don't expect, however, is for changbin to shove his cock into your cunt in one smooth motion until he's buried to the hilt. his hand comes down on your clit harshly and your entire body locks up, clenching around his cock and arching into his chest.
"count," he groans into your ear, pulling back and slamming into you again, setting a relentless pace from the get-go.
"... hnng, t-ten!" you manage to cry out between moans. you're so sensitive your whole body feels like an exposed nerve but changbin doesn't slow down. he watches how your eyes roll to the back of your head and your limbs go slack, completely spent.
"you did so well, baby. now i'll make you cum on my cock."
Hiii! I hope you’re having a wonderful day! I was wondering if you might write about a jeongin hard thought i have☺️ I’m imagining being with all the members and you’re eating like a lollipop or ice cream cone and jeongin gets super turned on and even a lil possessive of you 🙃
i like this idea 🙃
you're not even doing anything sexual with the lollipop , minding your own busy , but jeongin can see their not so subtly eyes lingering over to you as you eat the candy , eyes trained to your phone , his blood boiling at how they're looking at you.
not to mention his cock that was getting hard at the thought of you sucking him off like you were doing to the candy , much like you had done for him a few hours before you guys met up with his members.
getting tired of his members stares , and cock that was painfully hard , he calls your over , pulling you into his lap , confused because it was so out of the blue. "jeongin what are you doing?"
"can you please finish that damn candy , before my members all cum in their pants at the show you're putting on for them." he grits into your ear , you finally catch on , smirking. "you seem like you're enjoying it to , your hard right now."
he knew you'd be a brat , pulling you even closer , to anyone it looks like he's just hugging you , but only you hear what he's whispering in your ear.
"i gave you a chance , throw the fucking candy in the trash , before i fuck your face right in front of them , cum right on your face to show them that you're mine , get rid of it."
[ 11:05 ] “You know he loves you, don’t you?” Chan questions as he hands you his car keys. You fiddle with the soft toy that hangs between the keys, tugging at the small wolf’s ears.
Chan sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Just go.”
You take a step towards the door before hesitating, lifting your eyes to meet his. You’d have to trust he’d keep this conversation to himself. You could feel it already, the anxiety that would bubble up to your throat the second you left the apartment with this conversation unresolved.
Minho was leaving. He was moving out—across the country—and he hadn’t said a word to you about it. Sure, you didn’t live here. But you may as well have. You spent so much time and the apartment he shared with Chan they’d often joke about when you were going to start splitting the bills.
“What if he changes his mind?” you ask, managing to keep your voice steady. “If I do something… change how it is now… what if he changes his mind?”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he’ll know me. He’ll get closer and maybe he won’t like what he finds.”
Chan takes the keys from your hands, halting your fiddling. “Sit down,” he instructs gently, gesturing to the small lounge you’d taken to falling asleep on some nights. You do as he says, folding your hands in your lap as you wait for him to join you.
He doesn’t.
You watch as he disappears down the short hallway and into Minho’s bedroom, returning only moments later with a small shoebox in his hand. He doesn’t drag it out. He sits on the small table in front of you and opens the lid.
It reminded you a lot of the small box you kept under your bed in your childhood bedroom, a collection of miscellaneous things you’d attached memories to as you’d grown. A bracelet from your 11th birthday, a playing card you’d scooped out of the water on your trip to Vietnam, the paper mache rabbit you’d made when you were 8, the key to the padlock you’d used for your locker in high school.
This box was much like that. You don’t recognise anything at first, not until Chan digs out a small clay cat, one of your earliest attempts at moulding clay figures. It was an ugly thing, wonky and misshapen. Minho had snatched it from your hands when you’d announced it was going in the rubbish. “He can’t help being ugly,” he’d said. “He’s mine now.”
Chan passes the clay cat to you. He’s cuter than you’d remembered.
“They’re all from you," he says.
You look up. “Hm?”
“The box,” he clarifies. “They’re all things you’ve given him.”
You peak into the box, attempting to spot anything else you recognise. There are scattered pieces of paper, some are sticky notes you vaguely remember attaching to his bedroom door on days you’d visited when he wasn’t home. You pick one up and read it silently, ‘You missed me. Unlucky for you. I’ll be around Friday.’ You’d drawn a small rabbit in the corner.
Chan takes the note from you along with the clay cat. You watch as he places them back inside the shoebox and replaces the lid. “I shouldn’t let you go through it—not without his permission. I just need you to understand.” He places the box on the table beside him carefully, like it’s full of priceless porcelain. “You know him,” he continues. “He doesn’t make decisions lightly. He knows what he wants and when he wants something… that’s it. You’re it.” He sighs. “You know him.”
You look to his discarded car keys. “You still need milk.”
“I’ll get it. You’ll stay?”
You nod. “I’ll stay.”
—
He leaves shortly after that. Leaves you to pace as you wait for Minho to arrive. He was leaving. Leaving Chan. Leaving you. He hadn’t offered an explanation.
You jump as he knocks on the door. He expected Chan to be home. He wasn't expecting you. You press your hand to your chest and take one last deep breath before marching over and letting him in.
His eyes widen a little as he takes you in. You hadn’t seen him in two weeks now. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met three years prior. You step aside to let him in, pressing your fingers into your clavicle in an attempt to ground yourself.
“I didn’t know you were coming around,” he says as he takes his shoes off. “Chan didn’t—”
“He left,” you interrupt. “Chan. He went out because he wanted—I wanted to talk to you.”
He stands and shucks his winter jacket from his shoulders. “Talk to me?” he questions.
You nod. “Would you… sit? Please?”
He looks a little nervous now. You wonder if he can see the same emotion in you. He sits exactly where you’d been sitting when Chan had shown you the box. He leaves his beanie on and you take in the way his brown hair peeks out around his neck. He waits.
You can’t find it within yourself to sit, choosing to stand across from him instead—leaving the small table between you. “Can I ask you something?”
He nods and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “Mm,” he says. “Anything.”
“It’s a big ‘something’.”
“Okay,” he says simply.
“Would you stay?” you ask, tugging on your fingers. Your heart thumps in your chest. “If I asked you to stay, would you?”
His brow furrows slightly. “I—”
“Because I need you to stay. Please. I need you not to leave me. I know it’s a lot and I don’t know why you’re leaving and I’m sure it’s very important and I don’t even know if you want to stay here. Maybe you don’t but—”
“Wait,” he says, interrupting your rambling. You take a steadying breath as he stands. He tugs his beanie from his head and drops it onto the table. His hair stands on all ends. You desperately want to run your hands through it. But you can’t. Your knuckle pops as you tug a little hard on one of your fingers. “Leaving?” he questions, clearly confused. Alarm bells ring in your head. “Why would I leave?”
“Chan said—” you cut yourself off. Oh you were going to wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze so hard he– “You’re not leaving?”
“No. But you thought I was…you said you need me to stay...” Minho says with a smirk, making his way around the table slowly.
“Forget everything I just said.”
“Can’t,” he says, his smirk transforming into a small grin. “Sorry.”
You could tell him you’d seen the box, a small voice in your head offers. Then you’d both be embarrassed. You snuff it out before it can fully form. If it was anyone else… But it was him. You’d take much worse than one-sided embarrassment for him.
“Alright. Well, Chan had his fun. I’m going home.”
Minho steps in front of you, cutting off your exit. “Stay,” he says simply.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.”
“Why?”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Because I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Why is that, by the way? Chan said—”
“Chan says a lot of things, apparently."
Minho collapses into the couch cushions beside you and throws his arm over the back of the lounge. You join him. “He said you were busy,” Minho says. “That you didn’t have time for us.”
“I was… sulking.”
He presses his lips together, failing to suppress a smile. “Sulking?”
“I thought you were moving out. Chan wouldn’t tell me why he said you’d talk to me when you wanted to. But you didn’t. I thought you were leaving without even talking to me about it.”
The hand over the back of the couch moves a little, then he begins playing with your hair—gentle fingers fiddling with the strands that fall over your shoulder. “I think it’s my fault,” he says as you struggle to regulate your breathing. “I said something to him a few weeks ago. Something that may have… caused this. I’ll fix it.”
His fiddling with your hair breaks a barrier, one that allows you to lean a little towards him and fix the strands of hair that stick on all ends. He’s quiet at first, letting you brush his hair out with your fingers. Then, just as you begin working on a particularly stubborn tuft right at his parting, he speaks, “I would never leave you,” he says. It’s almost a whisper. Gentle and quiet, almost like he hadn’t meant to speak it at all.
“You wouldn’t?”
He takes your arm, stubborn tuft forgotten. “I thought you knew that. I thought you knew that I…” he trails off as his eyes drop to where his fingers wrap around your wrist.
“Minho?” you whisper. He looks up. “I do. I know.”
He blinks, a brief moment of panic crossing his features as his fingers tighten on your wrist.
“I love you, too,” you add quickly, keen to end his anxiety. “So much.”
He blinks. Once, twice. Then he drops his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes. He takes a deep breath and you watch as he lifts your wrist to his lips. You can’t see the way he presses a kiss to your skin, his long hair obscuring your view. But you feel it. You feel his warm breath as he holds you there for a moment afterwards.
Then he lifts his head.
You catch a blur of his smile as he lunges at you, pushing you onto your back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He keeps the majority of his weight off you and you bask in the warmth of him for the minute of two he stays like this. Then he’s sitting up again, tugging you up with him and practically lifting you into his lap. You wrap your arms around him, settling yourself comfortably against him as he releases a contented sigh.
“Did Chan tell you?” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“I knew before that.”
He groans, dropping his head back. You can see the tiny mole at his jawline: a target. You press a gentle kiss there. “I knew you loved me,” you whisper. “You’re so good at it.. so full of love. But I—I think I was afraid you’d stop, like when you see a stray cat and you’re afraid if you move it’ll startle…that it’ll leave and you’ll never get to try again. Having you as a friend is better than not having you at all.”
He lifts his head to look at you. You can see the way he’s fighting it, all the emotion. He doesn’t express it with words, but he doesn’t need to. It leaks from his eyes and from his gentle touches. “I don’t startle,” he grumbles after a moment.
You grin. “‘M’kay, whatever you say,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his for the first time.
OMG OMG I just had the BEST floating thought of having Minho as your professor who’s just so obsessed with you and making you cry he grades you badly and asks difficult questions and humiliated you just to see you cry with your pretty eyes and aajksksksksk then he obviously fucks you to help you get your grades up.
(I’m sorry ai cant be saved)
okay first of all, i cant be saved too bby, don’t worry
also, let me worship your brain🛐 because this ask had me stepping out of class just to answer it.
welp, here it is-
professor minho who’s so so obsessed with seeing you in his class, he cancels it when you don’t come. if he can’t see your wide innocent eyes starting back at him from the audience, what was even the point of having the lecture? he’d rather stay in his office and jerk off to your pictures.
professor minho who calls on you when he knows you aren’t paying attention just so he can humiliate you and see your pretty cheeks turn red, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. oh how he wished he could take it between his teeth and suck on it.
professor minho who reprimands you for coming late, because don’t you feel the urge to come to his class and see him every chance you get? like he rushes to the class to see you for as long as he can. and makes you write the bullet points for the lecture on the board just so he could stare at your ass while you did that. one day he’ll fuck you against that same black board.
professor minho who tears up your assignment, claiming it was useless where it was actually one of the best he’d read in ages, just to see your eyes tear up, cheeks turn red and lips quiver, jutting out in whimpers and a pout that has his cock twitching in his dress pants. he make you sit on front desk after class, watching you crying and shivering as you try to explain yourself with red eyes, all while he’s been jerking himself under the desk.
professor minho who sighs, pretending to understand as he comes upto you, placing a hand on your shoulder. oh how great did you smell? “it’s okay dear, i get it…why don’t you be a good girl and come with me so we can come up with an alternative?” he would say sweetly, wiping your tears that he will cause again. and you, like the naive person, would follow him.
“isn’t this a better way to get grades? you should just do this till you graduate baby” he would whisper as he would sit you in his lap. shutting down all your protests as his hands slip under your skirt, making you bite your lip and spread your legs for him because as twisted as this might be, you wanted him to do this. you wanted to do this with your hot professor you couldn’t stop thinking about. “ssh, it’s okay kitten, you’ll do better in the next assignment.” he would groan, pushing his cock past your folds as you held the desk for support while he fucked you from behind.
“you look so pretty crying over my cock baby” he would coo.
Minho is safe. It's one of the first feelings you'd had about him. He was walking comfort, gentle and soft spoken. Even when he got excitable, bouncy and a little loud, it would only take a gentle word and he'd calm—adjusting to your mood.
It's why you're completely relaxed when you hand him your small folding knife—the one you usually kept buried in your backpack—and ask him to help you with your dress.
He looks between you and the knife held closed in his hand, clearly confused.
"The zip is stuck," you explain, turning your back to him. "I need you to cut it."
"Cut... the dress?"
"Mm, please."
"I might be able to—"
"Just cut it, please. It's stuck and I wanna resuse the fabric for something else anyway."
He's quiet for a moment. You brush your hair over your shoulder, holding out of the way for him.
"What if I... cut you?" he murmurs. "There's scissors somewhere—"
"You won't."
You feel him step in closer, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck as he leans in to inspect where the zip is caught. "Don't move," he says finally.
You hum in acknowledgement. Scissors were boring.
Then he's pulling the fabric from your skin, creating as much distance between you and the place he'll cut as he can. You can't see how he does it, you don't need to. You're as calm as if he was brushing your hair. He's more careful with you than you'd ever be with yourself.
Then the fabric tears. You hear the knife clatter on the bench. A second later and his hands work to shred the dress until you're forced to hold the fabric onto your body with your hands across your chest.
"There," he whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder. "Good?"
You turn to face him. "No."
"No?"
"I need more help."
His eyes drop as you release the dress, letting it fall to your ankles. Then he's reaching for your underwear, tugging at the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin lightly. "You can't take these off yourself?"
You shake your head.
He huffs out a breathy laugh. "Why is that?"
"Because I want you to cut them off me."
He steps into you, threading his fingers into the hair at the back of your head. His brown eyes are a little hooded, lashes long and dark. "Why?" he whispers.
You mirror his actions, looping your arms around his neck so you can play with the hair at the back of his head. "I remember once—I must've been 10 or 11—I went to a museum with my class. There was this big sword on the wall and I remember looking around at all the people in the room and feeling anxious about it. I've always been like that. Even in the kitchen when my mum was sharpening one the knives I was on always a little on edge. She could drop it on her toes or accidentally turn at wrong time as I'm walking past..." You trail one of your hands down over his shoulder, fingers gently stroking over his skin until they rest at his throat. He doesn't react, even as you give an experimental squeeze. "I noticed the other day, when you were making dinner. I was so relaxed. It's a lot for me, to be completely free of it. No anxiety at all. You can stand there behind me with a knife practically brushing my skin and—"
He cuts you off with a kiss, forcing your fingers into the sides of his neck a little in the second before you can react and pull them away.
When he releases you he has the knife in his hand. You hadn't noticed him pick it up from the bench. He drops to his knees.
You keep a handful of his soft hair between your fingers as he slips the knife between your skin and the fabric of your underwear—at the side; at your hip. He keeps the blade facing away from you, his arms working to keep you steady as he cuts the fabric off you.
He leans forward when he's done, his lips soft against your thigh. "You're so soft," he whispers. He's making a trail with his lips, towards your centre. "So perfect."
