Pairing: OT8 x Reader
Warnings: Explicit content! MDNI
WC: 5200
Bang Chan:
“Oh really?” he asks, ears going red. He looks away, staring at the ceiling before glancing back at you. “Never?” you shook your head. He tongues the inside of his cheek and you fidget under his sudden intense gaze.
“Do you wanna…” you bite your lip, thinking for a moment. “Would you want to help me try?” His eyes go wide for a second before looking at you.
“You want me to?” he asks, shy. You nod your head and press your thighs together.
Your boyfriend is hot. There’s no denying that fact, even now as he sits across from you in a black tank top and a pair of grey sweats. Even without trying, he’s effortlessly sexy. Though the relationship is new, you aren’t a stranger to makeout sessions and Chan, well it’s just in his nature to walk around and sleep naked. So, even though this would be your first time… you’ve wanted him. Craved his touch from the first moment he kissed you. So when he asks “Are you sure?” You don’t even hesitate before answering “Yes.”
He pulls you to his chest. You immediately get chills as you feel his breath on your neck, your back pressed against his front. You can feel the sizeable bulge in his sweats pressed against you and as much as you want to press against it, to turn this onto him, when his hand snakes down your front you throw your head back and focus on the pleasure he’s giving you. His mouth is on your jaw and your neck and long gone is that shy act–you know exactly who you’re dealing with now. The man who isn’t afraid to take his shirt off on stage. The man who shamelessly flirts with Stays.
“You already look so pretty for me,” he says into your ear. You can tell he’s smiling without looking at him. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already so wrecked for me?” You nod fervently as he hikes your shirt up, revealing you to him. “Say stop at any time,” he tells you with a kiss. The ever-caring lover you’ve fallen in love with, even when at his sexiest can’t not check in with you.
He makes you watch every movement, every flick of his hand against your nipples. His warm breath and tongue against your skin, the absolutely filthy words he whispers in your ears when you aren’t looking him in the eyes.
It feels so natural when his hand connects with your core and you’re already soaking wet. It takes him by surprise and he almost pulls his hands out of your shorts but you close your thighs around him, needy and desperate for his touch.
“Please,” you say, looking up and blinking at him. You can tell a comment is on the tip of his tongue, something about you being so wet or needy for him but you silence him with a kiss. His deft, knobby fingers slide into you then and he smirks, smirks at the effect he has on you. His fingers are long, skillful in the way that every touch is purposeful. He reaches spots that you couldn’t possibly reach with your own fingers and he touches your body as if he has memorized every inch of you already.
“Chris,” you whine, and that affects him in ways you don’t even know. You can feel him grow even harder behind you and he even ruts his hips into your back, groaning at the friction. He focuses on you though, one hand snaking up to rest on your neck.
You’re close. You’re close and he knows it and he touches you now with the intent of getting you to finish. He whispers and groans the filthiest shit in your ear until you’re burning up, absolutely flushed from all the things he tells you he wants to do to you.
You’re not surprised with how little effort it takes for him to push you over the edge. You pulse around his fingers as he keeps the same pace. He made you cum and he didn’t even have to take off your pants. You’re impressed but you know he would never take the compliment, that he would brush it off and turn red as if he didn’t just wreck you. He pulls his fingers from your center once you’ve come down from your high, sticking them into his mouth and moaning around his fingers.
“God that was hot,” he laughs.
You throw your arm over your face in embarrassment and he showers your face with kisses.
His arms tighten around you and he rocks you back and forth, giddy until you’re both a giggling mess.
Lee Know:
“Ahhh,” he nods. “I see.” He looks at you and where his hands rest underneath your shirt, playing with the hem. He thinks for a moment, biting his lip as he thinks of a way that he can help you without making you uncomfortable. An idea pops in his head and he looks at you and smirks, eyes dark with mischief.
He spreads his legs then, his muscular thighs straining the fabric of his jeans. You would be blind to not notice the large bulge straining for some relief but he tsks and guides your vision to his face. You go red-hot from being caught staring and he all but coos, grabbing your waist so that you’re straddling one, muscular thigh.
“Min–”
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he prefaces and he blows a strand of hair away from his face. God he’s so gorgeous that it’s lethal, knocking your breath out from your chest with one stare. “But, if you want, you can grind your pretty pussy on my thigh. You do all the work and I’ll just watch you, yeah?”
You feel shy from his gaze all of a sudden and he silences your thoughts with a kiss to your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. He can’t stop his mouth from connecting to your skin, leaving hot wet kisses along your jaw, neck, and ear. When he nibbles on your ear and you feel his hot breath against you, you can’t help it when your hips kick forward desperate to get some friction.
“That’s it,” he groans. “Just like that.” Tentatively you roll your hips against the fabric again, head lolling back at the delicious friction it causes between your legs. True to his word he lets you do all the work, arms crossed behind his head and eyes heavy as he drinks you in. He smiles a familiar grin that causes you to heat up, one that’s smug but offensively gorgeous.
You feel spurred on by the look he’s giving you and the feeling between your legs and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips when he tenses his thigh.
“Fuck, you look good like this,” he says softly. You’re rocking yourself back and forth on him in earnest now, feeling your high start to build up. But you’re sensitive now and you’re starting to lose your rhythm, your hips becoming tired.
“Min I can’t,” you whine, losing that feeling that had slowly started to build.
“I gotcha,” he says, grabbing your hips for you. He rocks you back and forth using his own strength, not forgetting to push his thigh harder against your core. He works you back up embarrassingly fast and before you know it you’re spilling over the edge with your back arched and a loud cry. Just as he allows you to slow down he presses a kiss against your lips, breathing in your moans. You slump against his shoulder then and he strokes your back. “Beautiful,” he whispers.
Changbin:
Changbin doesn’t react at all when you tell him. His arms are full of you, who is currently straddling his lap happily. Your makeout session was starting to get a little intense and you could tell that it was likely to escalate–which you had no problem with, but you couldn’t stop the confession from releasing from your lips.
He stares at you. No acknowledgement whatsoever. You gulp nervously… any reaction would be better than no reaction, you think.
“Bin?” you ask, breaking his focus. You’re worried that you ruined the mood, suddenly anxious. “Should I not have said that? We can stop,” you say, lifting your hips to get off of him when he grabs your waist, setting you down flush against his hips.
“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “I think… I was flustered.”
“Huh?”
“That turned me on more than it should have,” he admits with a small smile, staring at the wall next to him. You coo at the blush on his face, his ears turning suddenly red. His bulge pressing into your clothed core further proves his point–he wasn’t lying. You hate to admit how turned on you are now too, his thick cock pressing against you making less-than-pure thoughts run through your head.
Your lips reattach to his in a messy kiss and your hands are everywhere, feeling his broad, toned pecs, his muscular shoulders, his tummy… You press kisses against his throat, his collarbone, his sternum and you can feel his cock twitch in his sweats. The thought that he’s just as aroused as you are, with your panties probably soaked from your arousal, pushes you even further. You rock yourself against his clothed cock, relishing in the way it presses against your clit just right. The groan he lets out is heavenly, his head thrown back in bliss. This gives you the perfect opportunity to lean forward and bite the junction between his neck and shoulder, sucking a pretty purplish-red mark in its wake.
His hips thrust up on instinct and you whine… This must have been the breaking point, you think, because he grabs your hips so tightly you think they will bruise… and he thrusts his hips up into yours so harshly that you let out a shriek in surprise.
“Fuck… is this okay?” he asks, looking utterly debauched. You nod, trying to rock your hips in tandem but his grip is too tight–he’s in control. He’s lifted you up off of him a few inches and pistons his hard bulge into your core, the same way he would if he were fucking you. His cock slides deliciously against your clit every time and though you don’t know the feeling, you think your high is starting to build up.
“Just like that, Bin,” you tell him, scrunching your eyes shut and throwing your head back.
He growls. “You like that? You like when my cock touches your pretty pussy? You’re soaking me, fuck. I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in my pants you’re so hot, baby.”
You feel your core start to tighten and his hand tightens in your hair, grabbing your face to push your lips against his in a hard but messy kiss. The second your lips come in contact you start to cum, spasming around nothing as he continues to drill his cock against you.
It takes only a few seconds for Changbin to cum too, grabbing your hips and holding you tight against his bulge. You feel him pulsing in his pants, thick spurts of his arousal shooting out and soaking the sweats. It’s so erotic and he is a sight to behold when he cums, sweat glistening across his forehead and the veins of his forearms protruding from where he holds you tight.
When he looks up at you he has the audacity to look sheepish again. You smack his shoulder lightly with a smile. “No need to be shy on me now,” you tease. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your arms slung around his neck.
“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” he chuckles. You answer him with a kiss.
Hyunjin:
Hyunjin lets out a gasp as if what you have just told him is heresy. Ever the drama-queen, you have to remind your boyfriend to keep his voice down–you’re in public. You’re not even sure how the topic came up, honestly, and part of you wishes that you had kept this information to yourself. Hyunjin, the man that he is, cannot let you keep anything to yourself. He instantly pries for the details despite your red-hot face.
“How often have you tried?” he asks, more excited than he should be. “You have tried, right? You just can’t…” you slap a hand over his mouth, looking around you.
“We can talk about this later,” you hiss. He gives you a giddy smile. You can tell he won’t forget about this.
Sure enough, he’s back on you the moment you walk through the door.
“Why do you care so much?” you groan.
“Because that means I get to help you,” he says with a glint in his eyes. “I get to be your first.”
Oh. Oh. Well, maybe you like that idea more than you’re willing to admit.
“Can I? Would you let me?”
“Hyune, how would you even–”
You let out a yelp when he rolls onto your back, rolling you on top of him.
“You could sit on my face,” he suggests. He must see your hesitation because he calms you down by rubbing your thighs. “Grind your pretty cunt all over my tongue.”
You squeeze your legs together from where you sit on top of him, ineffective due to Hyunjin’s broad frame below you.
“Are you sure?” you ask. “It’s just… what if I hurt you? What if you don’t like it, or you can’t breathe–”
“Shh, pretty,” he coos. “It only matters if you like it, but trust me I’ll like it too. I can tap your thigh if I need to breathe. You won’t hurt me, okay? You can go as crazy as you’d like.”
Reluctantly (and a bit nervously), you agree, rolling off of him to take off your pants. You’re already insanely aroused, embarrassingly so just from seeing the gorgeous man beneath you, rock hard in his pants. As you timidly straddle his face, you’re surprised when he pulls your core right onto his face.
“Hyunjin!” you cry, jerking up.
“Relax,” he smiles. “No need to be shy. Actually sit.” He lightly taps your ass and you lower yourself onto him, letting out a sigh when he swipes his tongue through your folds. He moans into your center, mumbling something akin to ‘tastes good’ and you relax. When his tongue circles your clit you think electricity has spread throughout your entire body and you lurch forward, his grip on your thighs unwavering.
“Shit, Hyune, that feels good,” you tell him, his tongue alternating between sucking and flicking your clit to shallowly fucking your hole. You can’t help but rock back and forth on his face, any inhibitions thrown out the window. He groans and sighs into your cunt, clearly enjoying himself as well. He works you up surprisingly fast and he sticks his tongue out wide, letting you ride it and pleasure yourself on it the way you want. His tongue is warm and wet and feels heavenly against your folds and you grind yourself to a finish, his grip on your hips helping to aid you to your release.
He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, releasing with a pop as he gently licks up your release. You roll off of him and catch your breath, staring at the ceiling in awe.
“Was it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” he asks breathlessly, licking his lips of your arousal. “We’re going to need to do that again,” you laugh incredulously. “Your tongue… no wonder I couldn’t get myself off if that’s what I was missing.” He laughs and rolls on top of you, pressing a long kiss against your lips. He tastes of you and that somehow makes it even better.
Han:
You flush when he makes the suggestion. Mutual masturbation.
“I have a hard time… I’ve never been able to make myself finish before, though,” you remind him.
“Yeah yeah, I know,” he says. “But it’ll be hot. And maybe it can help you…”
“But what if you finish first?” you ask him. “Won’t that be… unsexy?”
“Unsexy? God no,” he laughs “If anything, I can help you finish after, if you want.”
“O…Okay,” you agree.
The kisses start off messy and you find yourself wanting to wrap your hands around his waist. “No… no touching,” he tells you. “Just kissing. No touching one another’s bodies. It will make it feel better. It will be sexier if we can just… watch.”
You agree with him. The wet, sloppy kisses come to an end with a string of saliva connecting you too. You watch intently as he palms himself through his sweats, grabbing his length with a groan.
“You make me so hard, baby,” he tells you. You feel entranced, lifting up your shirt and playing with your chest as he watches. You grope yourself, teasing your nipples while your gaze never leaves his, the way his eyes stare at you and each movement has you unknowingly biting your lip.
He pulls his sweats down and palms himself through his underwear before stroking his cock through the fabric, hissing at the friction. Feeling bold, you free yourself of your underwear and move so that he can get a better view. His eyes look so wide and full of lust as he finally frees his cock and starts touching himself properly.
He was right. It was erotic for sure. You couldn’t help how turned on you felt as you touched yourself, shallowly fucking yourself with one finger as he watches. He’s beautiful. This is a fact you have always known but right now, as he fists his cock and his hips jump up to meet his hand you can’t help but admire how beautiful, his brows furrowed and eyes struggling to remain watching you.
This is the first time you’ve properly seen one another without clothes on, and while you have had a few intense makeout sessions and heavy petting, you have yet to go this far. You can’t say you regret it when his whines are so perfect, his neediness as he throws his head back and touches himself with such a vice grip.
“You’re so hot,” you tell him and he moans.
You fuck yourself even harder on your fingers, trying to bring yourself close to the edge. He watches when you start squelching around your fingers, so wet that the sound is borderline obscene. You can tell he’s close even though you’re struggling, but you swear you have never been closer to orgasm than when you saw Jisung cum all over himself, shooting his release on his stomach with a cry of your name. Your fingers speed up and you’re still not sure if you’re close, but before you can say anything Jisung crosses the bed. He attaches his lips to your clit without a second thought, his fingers replacing your own. He’s a sight to behold, hair sticking to his forehead and sweat glistening down his toned chest. It takes a few minutes but he doesn’t give up (even though you likely would have by now), he licks and sucks you through your first orgasm.
“God I could cum again just from that sight,” he admits with a shy chuckle once he lifts his head up from between your legs.
Felix:
It was all because of a stupid card game. Okay, maybe some alcohol was involved too. It was one of those couple’s games and in your newly relationship-state, Felix suggested you play together. A little bit too much wine and a series of giggles and here you were.
“What is the most amount of orgasms you’ve had in one day?” Felix read the card, a blush spreading across his face.
“It doesn’t say that,” you laugh, reaching for the card. Sure enough… You let out a sigh. “Truthfully?” you ask.
“Well–only if you want to,” he backtracks. “You… you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“No, Lix, it’s fine, it’s just…” you run a hand through your hair, exasperated. “Zero. The answer is zero. I’ve never cum before.”
“But… you had a boyfriend before me, I thought?”
“Yeah,” you laugh. “That doesn’t mean he made me cum.” He looks at you thoughtfully, ultimately deciding to table the conversation. You were grateful. You’re both a little too tipsy and flustered to be having this conversation. You watch a movie and curl up against his chest, game long forgotten as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
***
It’s about a week later when Felix shows up at your door with a suspiciously large package in his hands. You were expecting him for date night but not aware of what he brought with him.
“What’s that?” you ask. You don’t miss the way his ears turn red.
“This is for later,” he tells you. “It’s a surprise.” You shrug it off and almost forget about it until after dinner. He brings you into your bedroom and hands you the package.
“I remembered our conversation from last week,” he admits. “How you said you’ve never… so I bought some things that I thought you could use.”
“Use? To help me cum?”
He coughs, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah. I just thought… and I don’t even need to be here when you use them, but I thought that you could use some… tools? I don’t know.”
“Do you want to see me use them, Lix?” you all but purr. He looks at you sheepishly.
“I wouldn’t say no,” he laughs. “Only if you’re comfortable.”
You open the package, then. A large dildo. A smaller one. A bullet vibrator. Some things you’ve never even seen before.
“Wow, Felix, this is…” you lift up one of the larger toys to inspect it. “Was this expensive?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you. “It’s an investment.”
And that’s how you end up spread on your bed, Felix watching from a chair at the end of your bed.
“I can always take a video,” he suggests. You furrow your brow. “Y’know, that way if you have a hard time finishing, we can watch it back and review and see where it went wrong?”
“Felix I KNOW you did not just suggest having a VOD review of my masturbation session,” you laugh. “I’m not one of your games you know.”
He looks away shyly. You acquiesce. “If you want to record… use my phone though.” He looks way too excited as he grabs your phone and props up the camera as you start to play with yourself, fucking yourself with one of the vibrating dildos he bought. It felt really good, and it was just an added bonus that the sexiest man alive was watching you.
“You can go deeper,” he drawls. You can tell he’s accentuating his deep voice because he knows it turns you on. “Don’t be afraid to really press the end of it against your clit.”
The toys worked you up faster than you ever imagined and you squirmed beneath his gaze. Felix stands, bringing the camera even closer to your sopping entrance, really trying to get a good view of the camera. “You’re doing so good,” he tells you.
You can’t help it. You cum. The vibrations from the toy, the camera, Felix’s watchful eyes and words… it was all just too much. You writhe through your orgasm until you reach overstimulation, turning off the toy and throwing an arm over your eyes.
Felix is quick to jump into the bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses.
“That was… wow,” you tell him.
“Wanna watch the video?” he asks, voice laced with excitement.
Seungmin:
“Never,” he deadpans.
“Nope,” you repeat.
“Well, like, how do you do it?”
“What do you mean?” you can’t help the blush that spreads across your face.
“You’re probably doing it wrong,” he explains.
“I know you’re not mansplaining to me how to masturbate,” you roll your eyes.
“No,” he sighs, exasperated. “I’m just saying maybe I can help. It would be easier if you showed me.”
“Showed you?”
“Don’t be dense, love. Just take your pants off, if you want, and touch yourself in front of me. I can guide you, if you’d like.”
You were definitely blushing now.
“Can you kiss me first?” you ask. You don’t know why but you felt like breaking that barrier would make things a little easier. He smiles, pushing his hand through his hair before leaning forward, capturing your lips in his. His hand brushed through your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart you felt a rush of confidence, pulling your pants and panties down to reveal yourself to him. He watches you from the end of the couch with his arms crossed, lips shut tight.
You let him watch as you trail your hands down to your center, spreading your legs wider when you see him trying to get a better look. You circle your clit with one finger, dipping into your entrance to gather your arousal. You switch between fucking yourself with your finger and circling your clit, no sense of rhythm. Though Seungmin pins you with your gaze and causes your arousal to strengthen, you can’t build yourself up the way you want. You get frustrated. Seungmin takes notice.
“Lift your shirt up,” he commands. He watches as you hesitate but follow his direction, lifting up your shirt with his heavy gaze. “Use your thumb and pointer finger. Trace your nipples.” You do what he tells you, following his instruction to tease, circle, and pinch your nipples.
“Use one hand. Wet it with your tongue. Get a lot of spit–yeah, like that. Touch your clit.” He lets out a breath when you release a shaky moan. “Use one hand and circle your clit and use the other hand to touch your pretty nipples. Go back and forth between circling it and flicking it. Figure out what feels better.”
You squirm at the oversensitivity.
“Seung,” you moan. “Feels good but… can’t you just touch me? I want to feel you.”
He shakes his head. “No, baby. You need to do it yourself. I want you to know how to make yourself feel good.” You let out a frustrated sigh but continue to follow his direction.
“Use your other hand now and push it inside. You can start with one finger. Don’t stop the momentum you’ve got on your clit but slowly fuck yourself with one finger. Good. Try curling it.”
You can’t deny how good it feels–better than you’ve ever made yourself feel. You notice the bulge in his sweats and you whine. Teasing, you drag your foot up his thigh and try to press against his bulge to get a reaction from him. Before you can though he sighs and grabs your foot, harshly.
“Don’t try it,” he warns. He doesn’t release his grip from your ankle and you’re thankful for the touch. “Try adding another finger.” You do just as he tells you, curling them inside you as you continue to stimulate your clit.
“Seung, I’m… I think I’m close,” you say with a breath of surprise.
“Good,” he smiles. “Don’t let up on the pace. Try to stay as consistent as you can. You’re doing so good for me, baby. Does that feel good? You’re so pretty, you have such a pretty pussy–”
You cut him off with a loud yell as you cum all over your fingers. Your legs kick up, unable to control them but he grabs your thighs and holds you down, rubbing small circles into your skin.
When your breathing finally calms down he shoots you a grin. He opens his arms and you crawl right into them, laying your head against his chest.
“Wasn’t trying to ‘mansplain,’” he mutters against your head. “Just wanted to see if I could help.”
You laugh sleepily. “I know, Minnie. You did a good job. Thank you.”
Jeongin:
With the way he smiles at you you’re not sure if he heard you right–he looks too giddy, dimples protruding from his face in a way that makes you want to poke him.
“What–” you ask, taken aback. You were in the midst of a makeout session that had started to get a little too heated and you felt the need to confess your little problem. You were self-conscious about it and unsure how he would react but this is not what you expected.
“Can I help?” he asks.
“Help–”
“Touch you,” he clarifies. “Let me touch you?” He trails his hands up and down your cheek. Hot from his suggestion. But you’ve always loved his hands, long and veiny, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t imagine how they would feel.
“Okay,” you stutter. “But if you can’t make me finish–”
“Shhh,” he kisses you. “Let’s not worry about that now. Just let me touch you and make you feel good, and if I can get you to cum that would be amazing. If not, nobody will be offended, yeah?”
He sits up then and before you can ask what he’s doing he bends you over his lap. Your breath hitches and he runs a hand up and down your ass, grabbing and kneading the flesh. You’re glad he can’t see your face because you’re sure you’re flushed beyond belief. He touches you over your shorts and when you start to squirm he lands a warning tap to your ass that makes you yelp. He takes his time touching you through the fabric and circling your clothed clit before he lifts your hips up, pulling your shorts and panties off at the same time.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he teases, gathering your wetness with his fingers. “All this for me?”
“Mmm,” you respond unintelligently, wiggling your ass to get your point across. Still he teases, never quite touching you where you need him.
“Jeong-In… Innie, please, touch me,” you whine. He coos at the desperate tone of your voice before allowing his fingers to finally push into your entrance. You welcome the intrusion and you’re glad that he starts slow, fucking you deep and with purpose.
“Feels good,” you moan, burying your head deeper into the sheets.
“Yeah?” he asks. He fucks his fingers into at a speed that you couldn’t imagine possible, a large hand splayed onto your lower back to hold you in place. You can’t help the sounds that escape your mouth and you vaguely realize that Jeongin is talking, whispering filthy things in your ear.
“Fuck, baby… your pussy is so tight. So perfect,” he groans. “So warm and wet… this pussy is all mine, yeah?”
“Oh my GOD, fuck, Jeongin!” you cry out. His words add fuel to the fire, allowing the warmth to spread through you and speed up your impending climax. He doesn’t relent, staying at the same pace and hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you seeing stars with his long, deft fingers. He hits that same spot every time and suddenly you’re cumming, spasming around his fingers. You swear you can hear his grin but you couldn’t care, not with the intensity of your orgasm. When you’ve come down from your high he strokes your back, letting your breathing even out. He reaches a hand around to your face and shows you his wet fingers, groaning when you wrap your lips around them.
“I can make you cum in other ways,” he suggests. “Want me to show you?”
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
hyunjins fingers were pistoning in and out of your sopping pussy. the wet squelching sounds making your head spin. he always seemed to hit spots deep inside you you couldn’t reach yourself. his long slender fingers pressing right up against your g-spot, massaging deeply and making your tummy feel weird.
the wet squelching grew louder and your soft pants increased in speed, “h-hyunnie..! feels weird, s-stop..”
his fingers didn’t slow their speed, “feels weird muse? hm?”
your cheeks burned bright and it felt humiliating to utter out the words, “feels like i h-have to pee..”
hyunjin ignored your little complaint, knowing your body better than you and his fingers picked up speed. he even went as far to rub circles on your clit with his other hand. you cried out at the feeling, it felt so dirty but so good and you felt the knot tighten in your tummy, the urge to go getting stronger with each swift movement of his fingers.
“hyunjin! ngh-please, i can’t! stop im gonna-!” you didn’t know how to finish the sentence, you didn’t know what you were going to do but you felt like you were about to snap at any second.
he hummed, fake compassion dripping from his tone, “oh i know baby, it’s so much hm? you gonna make a mess for me?”
your voice cracked, your moans dirty and raw as you let go. the knot in your tummy snapped and your thighs shook violently as your cunny squirted out. hyunjin was quick to pull out his fingers, his other hand speeding up on your clit, your fluids spraying all over him but he didn’t care, this is exactly what he wanted. you arched your back into his touch, craving more even though you were still leaking all over the bed.
“that’s right honey, make a mess for me.” he groaned, voice deep with lust.
your moans turned to pathetic whimpers as the overstimulation hit you. your pussy had calmed down, your climax having washed over as your squirting died down. hyunjin pulled his dripping fingers away from your cunt and brought them to his lips, making a show of wrapping his lips around them and licking your juices off them.
“think you can do that again?” he asked as he pulled his fingers out with a wet pop.
synopsis ᜊ‧₊˚ each members fav position to have you in :p
wc ᜊ‧₊˚ 859
warnings ᜊ‧₊˚ SMUT, piv, slight mention of choking, spanking, hair pulling, jeongin is a lil mean? not much tho/slight exhibitionist
a/n ᜊ‧₊˚ sigh i wanna do more posts like these i love them
chan : missionary or mating press
we BEEN knowing this. he loves to see how good he’s making you feel, watching your face contort in pleasure as he holds your legs up on his shoulders, hitting new depths. sometimes if he’s feeling bold he’ll reach down and wrap a hand around your throat GRRRR.
“fuck baby, look at how well you’re taking me,” his hand reaching down to rub circles on your clit, “such a drooling pretty mess for me.”
lee know: doggy
ass UP face DOWN. if you were particularly bratty that day, it gives him free access to your ass and omg he takes advantage of that (you’re getting spanked !) gives him completely control of the pace and position and LORDDDD he teases you so much knowing that.
a swift hand came down on your ass cheek, a pretty pink mark already forming as he gripped your hair in his other hand, yanking your head up. “yea you like that honey?” he hissed in your ear, “‘s what you get for being a brat all day”
changbin : up against a wall or reverse cowgirl
when he needs you he needs you NEOW. most of the time when it’s up against a wall, he won’t even wait until you two are fully unclothed. his pants and boxers pooling around his ankles and your pants pulled down and panties pulled to the side, and if he’s extra horny, he’ll lift up your shirt to stare at your boobs. when he’s less needy and more patient, he LOVES to have you ride him. but it’s gotta be reverse, obviously he loves to stare at your tits but it’s just smth about watching your ass bounce on him gets him painfully hard.
“baby sshh..gotta keep it quiet if you don’t want the neighbors to hear us” he shushed, knowing damn well with how fast he was fucking you that that would impossible, and might even leave a hole in the wall!!
hyunjin: spooning
something about the perfect curve of your waist or the easy access to your boobs he has from his position behind you, but it just gets him going! he’ll even be so generous to help hold your leg up for you when you get too fucked dumb to hold it up yourself! he loves gripping your thighs while pounding into you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he stares at you with pure love in his eyes.
the sound of skin slapping filled the room as his grip on your leg tightened, “you going dumb on my dick muse? hm?” he taunted as his thrusts picked up speed.
han: praying mantis
he loves just being close to you!! pressing his cheek up against your extended leg as his thrusts get sloppy cause he feels soooo good. loves the stability of it too cause let’s be honest he gets stupid in that pussy! gives him perfect view of your fucked out cunt and how perfectly he fills you up.
“baby!” his whines grow louder and more desperate, drool dripping off his tongue as he stares down at how wet you are, god you’re dripping around his cock! he presses kisses against your leg as he whispers about how good it feels.
felix: 69
he’s all about making sure yall are getting the same amount of pleasure and what’s easier then doing it at the same time! he loves being SMOTHERED in your pussy omg suffocate him. his arms will wrap around your hips making sure you don’t squirm too far. but above all, the sound of you gagging on his cock gets not only him rock hard, but leaves you dripping in his mouth!
he couldn’t even speak, not when his mouth was full of your cunt, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking gently as he felt your mouth take him deeper. he pulled away for a second, letting out little whimpers, “fuck baby just like that, choke on my dick”
seungmin: lotus
idk man i just feel like he likes to hold u and just be kinda close. unpopular opinion maybe but i feel like he’s the least freaked out of the members so just being close to his partner during such an intimate time is important to him and what could be more close then being all tangled together??
“i know honey it feels so good doesn’t it?” he mumbled against your lips as he grinds into you deeper, hitting all the right spots.
jeongin: bent over anything
he’s a needy man when it comes to you so ANYTIME ANYWHERE ON ANY SURFACE. bent over the counter, the bed, the hood of his car?? he doesn’t care he’s impatient and wants your pussy NOW. you didn’t hear this from me but he loves the potential thrill of being caught GASP.
his thrusts came in hard, leaving you gasping and drooling for air as you scrambled to find anything on the counter to hold onto. “you like that huh? you like that anyone can walk in and see me pounding you on the counter? of course you do.”
drabble — nothing melts his exhaustion other than your touch.
more than anything, chan thinks the most exhausting an idol do is the unending tours they need to fulfill for their fans. it leaves him drained and exhausted, body aching for the soft mattress of his apartment, and beside him was you who would cuddle him the best.
that's what chan misses every time they go abroad to attend schedules, tours, and interviews outside korea. the last time he was home was 3 months ago and everything is tolling on him already.
well not much longer because his 15 minutes away from his apartment. knees and muscles shaking, excitement chewing on his bones. he can't wait to see you. to kiss you, to feel your touch.
and he wasn't disappointed once he came home.
you have him exactly where he wants to be. sprawled on the bed, wrist tied on the head board matching with a silk blind fold on his eyes. his lips glistening from the amount of saliva that pools on his mouth while you stroke his cock slow and long. deliberately prolonging the orgasm the is building on his stomach.
"please—" he breathed after long minutes of your fingers dancing over his skin, barely grazing where he needed you most.You smiled, leaning in to kiss the corner of his jaw.
“patience, channie. you lasted two months. you can wait a little longer for me.”
a broken whimper escaped him when you finally freed him from his clothes, your palm wrapping around his throbbing length with feather-light pressure. you stroked him so slowly it was almost cruel—long, languid movements that had his hips twitching helplessly against the restraints.
every time he got close, you slowed down even more, until he was trembling, chest heaving, lips parted on desperate little gasps.
“fuck— baby, i can’t— i’m so close—”
you keep the pace tortuously unhurried, thumb circling the head, spreading the precum that’s already leaking steadily. every twist of your wrist, every gentle squeeze pulls another desperate sound from him. His thighs tremble, biceps straining against the silk as he fights the urge to thrust into your hand.
“p-please… faster,” he gasps, voice cracking. “i can’t... I need—”
“not yet, pretty boy.” you whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss just below his ear. “you’re going to cum exactly when i say you can, okay?”
he nods frantically, biting his lip hard enough to leave marks, completely at your mercy. You continue the slow, maddening rhythm—tight, slick strokes that build him up so gradually he’s shaking, whimpering your name like a prayer.
when you finally lean in and murmur “cum for me, channie” against his skin, his whole body goes rigid. a broken, guttural moan rips from his chest as he spills over your hand in thick pulses, hips stuttering helplessly against the restraints while you milk every last drop from him.
he’s still panting, trembling, when you gently remove the blindfold. those beautiful eyes, wet with overwhelmed tears, find yours immediately.
“welcome home, baby,” you whisper, brushing damp hair from his forehead.
bangchan gives you the softest, most blissed-out smile before muttering, .“god, i love you so much..”
okay, i know i should have posted this like 2 days ago already but fuck me and my work has been such a bitch with me so i had to spend the next 24 hours on a shift (the curse of being a health care worker.) BUT HEY! IT'S HERE. CHAN AND HIS MOMMY GF WITH FELIX <3333
HEY— this is an 18+ post! please proceed with viewer's discretion as this contains graphic smut themes not suitable for some readers. MDNI!!!!
Felix's heart hammered wildly against his ribs as he stepped into your and Chan's shared bedroom, the soft click of the door behind him echoing like a final seal on his fate. His palms were slick with nervous sweat; no matter how many times he wiped them down the front of his shirt, the dampness clung stubbornly to his skin.
Earlier that day, Chan had casually dropped the invitation—asking if he wanted to join the two of you in bed tonight—and the words had struck Felix like a bolt of electricity, knocking every ounce of air from his lungs.
He hesitated at the threshold for a heartbeat, feet rooted to the floor even as a treacherous heat began to bloom low in his belly. Part of him screamed to turn around, to laugh it off and flee back to the safety of his own room. This was dangerous. This was crossing a line he could never uncross. You and Chan were together... and yet here he was, standing in your most intimate space, pulse racing at the mere thought of what might happen.
But another part of him, darker, hungrier, wanted it. God, he wanted it. The idea of your hands on him, of Chan's deep voice murmuring commands while you both unraveled him, sent a shiver racing down his spine and straight to his cock. His mouth went dry as forbidden images flooded his mind: your lips parted in pleasure, Chan's strong fingers gripping his hips, the sounds the three of you might make together in the dark.
Felix swallowed hard, torn between bolting and stepping closer, his body already betraying him with the slow, insistent throb building between his legs.
A soft giggle slipped from your lips when you saw how adorably nervous Felix looked. You rose slowly from the bed, letting the delicate red lingerie cling to every curve of your body. The sight only made things worse for him.
You stepped closer and gently offered your hand.
“Come on, Lix,” you cooed softly, voice sweet and coaxing. “Don’t be nervous. Chan is right here. He won’t leave the room.”
And sure enough, Chan stayed exactly where he was, leaning back against the headboard. His dark eyes glinted with fascination and barely hidden excitement as he watched the two of you.
You settled comfortably between Felix's spread legs, pushing him gently until his back rested against Chan’s warm, solid chest. Felix’s hands clung desperately to Chan’s, as if they were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality.
Your fingers wrapped around Felix’s cock, stroking him in a slow, teasing rhythm, firm enough to keep him trembling on the edge, but never quite enough to let him fall over. Pretty moans spilled from his lips into yours, sometimes low and deep, sometimes high and breathy. Both you and Chan savored every sound as he slowly unraveled between you.
The shy, nervous Felix from moments ago had completely disappeared. In his place was a desperate, needy boy who was clearly enjoying every touch you gave him, even though all three of you knew it still wasn’t enough.
“P-please—” Felix huffed, teeth sinking into his lower lip as his hips started bucking up into your hand.
“Hm? What is it, Lix?” you cooed, tightening your grip around his throbbing length until he let out a low growl in his throat. “Come on, baby. Use your words.”
“Oh fuck!— Please… please, Noona,” he cried, a single tear slipping down his flushed cheek. “I need to cum. I-I want to cum so bad.”
The sight almost made you take pity on him. Instead, your eyes flicked up to meet Chan’s. His gaze was dark and gleaming with approval. He gave you a soft, reassuring smile before nodding once.
That was all the permission you needed.
Your hand immediately picked up speed, stroking Felix’s cock fast and tight. The younger man squirmed helplessly between your bodies, his back arching sharply. His fingers gripped Chan’s hands even harder as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in his stomach.
“You’re doing so good, Felix,” Chan murmured warmly against his ear, voice low and steady. “Go ahead. Don’t hold back. If you want to squeeze my hands tighter, move your hips, curse, shout, or moan — do it. We’re right here with you.”
Moans and broken curses kept tumbling from Felix’s mouth. His hips stuttered wildly, legs tensing as the orgasm built higher and higher—so long, so intense, and so fucking good.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck! Ahh—!”
Felix’s desperate cry shattered in the air as his hips jerked up sharply. His whole body tensed between you and Chan, every muscle pulling tight. With one final, broken moan, he finally let go.
Thick, warm ropes of cum spilled over your fingers and onto his own twitching stomach. Pulse after pulse, his cock throbbed hard in your tight grip as he came undone, painting his soft skin in messy white streaks. His back arched deeply against Chan’s chest, head falling back onto Chan’s shoulder while shaky, high-pitched whimpers slipped from his parted lips.
Felix’s body gradually went limp between you and Chan, his breathing slowing into soft, contented sighs. You gently released his spent cock and wiped your hand on the sheets before trailing soft, soothing touches over his cum-streaked stomach and chest. Chan continued murmuring sweet praises against Felix’s ear, his large hands rubbing slow, comforting circles along the younger man’s trembling thighs and sides.
“You were perfect, Lix,” Chan whispered tenderly. “So good for us… just rest now, baby.”
Felix let out one last sleepy little whine, his eyelids growing heavier with every gentle stroke from your fingers and every warm word from Chan. The overwhelming pleasure and careful aftercare had drained every last bit of tension from his body. Within minutes, his head lolled softly against Chan’s shoulder, lashes fluttering shut as he drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Once Felix was fully asleep, you leaned back against Chan’s chest and let out a quiet, amused breath.
“So…” you murmured, voice low so you wouldn’t wake the sleeping boy, “who do you think should be next?”
Chan’s lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your waist as he considered the question, eyes glinting with excitement in the dim light.
“Hmm… I’ve been thinking about it,” he replied softly, his deep voice warm against your ear. “Maybe Seungmin? He’s been acting a little too cocky lately. Could be fun to watch him fall apart.”
You let out a soft laugh, snuggling closer to Chan while keeping one protective hand resting on Felix’s hip. “Seungmin it is then. Can't wait to tame the pup are you?”
A knowing smile flashed on Chan's face before giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “Been waiting for so long.”
Summary: Jeongin was tired of his child-like persona and something needed to change. He decided to work on a sexy concept next and he knew who could help him pull it off if he only dared to ask.
Or Jeongin needs help bringing more sex appeal on stage and asks Chan for help. Seungmin? He was there, always waiting to get his hands on the maknae.
Part 1 of the "When we're together we live and when we fall apart we die - series"
Ships: Seungin, Chanin, Chanmin.
Rating: E
Tags/warnings: Pwp, (actually it does have a bit of plot), Threesome, Bang Chan and seungmin are good Hyungs, Maknae on top, very slight D/s dynamic.
Author’s Note: Thank you to my friend Mariana for beta reading my first fic for this fandom! It was a bumpy ride but we made it! Please read the final author notes.
Edit: This is now a series that will eventually end as ot8. I will update it when I can but I work way too much.
Total Word Count: 5k
Read on Ao3
Jeongin folded his high school uniform and put it in a box to be sent home; he wouldn’t be needing it anymore. He rolled his eyes at himself, he didn’t even know why he kept it at the dorm when that concept had been done and he would never repeat it. He lay down in bed with a huff, putting his arms behind his head. There was so much going on in his mind that he needed to work on.
He had never considered himself truly self-conscious, not really. Even as a trainee, he’d craved the praise and attention that performing in front of others brought him. He’d never been afraid to work hard to better himself and he’d taken all of the advice and corrections by his Hyungs to heart, yet he still wasn’t entirely happy with himself. Being the maknae meant that the company and by extension, his members, had always kept him in this sort of child-like persona. Yes, Jeongin had enjoyed the benefits of being babied most of the time, but he was starting to get tired of not being taken seriously as an adult - as a man.
There was some sort of cognitive dissonance between him being 24 years old and having hordes of girls after him, wanting him desperately while also infantilizing him. It’s not that he hated it entirely either. Sometimes, he didn’t even understand himself, but what he had concluded after much consideration was that he needed to move on from his teen public image and present himself as a more mature idol.
It had been a struggle to include this in his new contract. He’d wanted more freedom; they all did, and thankfully they now had the leverage to fight for it. Aside from bringing his personal lawyer to the meeting, Jeongin had brought Chan along to reason with Div1. If anyone could advocate for him, it was Channie Hyung. He’d felt lucky to have him at his side, holding his hand under the desk in a silent calming gesture. In the end, they’d won by presenting a united front, even if they each had to negotiate their own contracts. A single group meeting beforehand ensured that there wouldn’t be any weak spots. Nobody was getting more or less than the others. Stray Kids was one well-oiled machine made out of eight essential parts.
The next phase of his plan had been simple, but it had taken quite a bit of time: he’d had to craft a new image with the stylist and makeup Noonas. He’d wanted something new and fresh, not too masculine or hyper feminine; something exactly like him. It had been hard for him to express it in so many words - he’d never been one to talk too much anyway. But through trial and error, as well as some example images, they’d managed to put together some looks for the comeback and, more importantly, for the world tour.
His solo song, funnily enough, hadn’t been hard to craft. He had a very active imagination and some experience hooking up with other idols here and there and that was enough to create a sexy stage. That left him with the most complicated part of it all. His stage presence was not quite up to par with the song, the costume, or anything else involved in it. It was very much out of his comfort zone. With the lack of time off and sharing dorms with the cuties, finding sex partners had been a struggle, especially with Minho’s watchful eye. It’s not like he could’ve snuck someone into the flat. Quickies in the bathroom of an event and rushed handjobs in some dark corner backstage didn’t give him a lot of confidence in his sex appeal. His flirting was ok at best. He knew it, and the members had confirmed it in a recent interview.
Jeonging groaned, heat rising to his cheeks. Everything was so frustrating!
Seungmin was in a completely different situation. He was never overtly sexual or flirty, he was just… very effective. Minnie was often quiet, but was able to drop a single comment or look at the perfect time, making the other members squirm, or at least that’s what Jeongin had noticed. It definitely worked on him, and despite his attempts at pretending to be unaffected, Seungmin knew it too. It had been nearly six years of running from his Hyung and the bone-crushing hugs and the wandering hands that made every single hair on his body stand and his breath hitch. He could never say no to Seungmin, so he simply darted out of the room when things got too intense. It was a game that Jeongin himself craved and encouraged subtly. He’d thought about asking Seungmin for help with his predicament, but he didn’t usually do that type of concept either.
For months, he hadn’t made any progress with the new concept, at least not in the sex appeal department, but when he got assigned to room with Chan in the new flat, he finally realized that it was best to go straight to the source. While Channie Hyung was often goofy, he had no issues being sexy on stage. He was too good at it in fact. So good that it had resulted in Jeongin sticking his hand inside his pants after a concert on more than one occasion. He'd had to finish himself off to the mental image of his leader, Chan’s name falling from his lips in a choked gasp, his eyes tightly shut as his body trembled with the force of his orgasm.
Living with Chan was a blessing and a curse. Did Jeongin feel sexier? Maybe. He couldn’t help but be constantly horny due to having his semi nude hot friend around all the time. The man was allergic to clothes, Jeongin could have sworn it. He came home dripping sweat after the gym every day and when Jeongin thought the torture would be over, Chan would walk out of the shower only in a towel with droplets cascading down his chest that he couldn’t avoid following with his eyes.
Maybe being horny was part of the sexiness equation. Who knew? He just needed to figure out how to ask Chan about it.
--
Rehearsals had already started, and while Jeongin was almost entirely satisfied with his solo stage, he was running out of time to figure it out. Desperate for an answer, he went straight home after practice and knocked on Chan’s door.
For a moment, he thought Chan had gone out but the door burst open to show a very naked Seungmin covering himself with a cushion. Jeongin’s eyes widened, his mouth suddenly dry as a desert. Words escaped him as he took Minnie’s state: his chest was red, covered in sweat, fringe sticking to his forehead, and a smirk on his lips.
“Iyen-ah, did you need anything?” He sounded a bit winded.
“Hyung! I -” He shook his head; it was clearly a bad time to have this conversation. “No, sorry!” He took a step back. His eyes finally looked past Seungmin’s shoulder and saw an equally naked Chan staring right at him, his hand working on his glistening cock slowly - very, very slowly. If Jeongin tried hard enough he’d probably be able to imagine the weight of it on his tongue, the veins brushing down his throat as he blew Chan, the spongy tip pressed against his lips. He heard someone whimpering - probably himself.
“Don’t go,” Seungmin said, wrapping his hand around Jeongin’s wrist. “Please,” he whispered, pouting ever so slightly.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt…” That was true, because he had never once considered that Seungmin and Chan may be involved like that. It made so much sense, which made Jeongin feel so stupid.
“Didn’t you?” asked Chan. “I thought this was exactly what you wanted… I’ve heard you moaning my name before.”
Jeongin was going to fake his death, change his name, and simply disappear. Chan had heard him. Oh.My.God! A chill ran through his body-
“Not mine?” Seungmin pouted, sounding a bit slighted by that information. “I thought you liked me back.” He said, finally letting go of Jeongin. “I thought you liked me back,” he mumbled again, this time more to himself than anyone else.
Jeongin frowned, looking between his two Hyungs. “I - you are together.” He paused, shaking his head. “Anyway. Sorry about this. Let’s just pretend this never happened.” Before either of them could say anything, he pulled the door closed and ran to his room, his breath raged as he waited in silence, part of him hoping that they wouldn’t follow him to continue the conversation, and part of him wishing they would.
--
Jeongin stumbled into the shower at 7 am and let the scalding water soothe his stiff neck and aching muscles. He was thankful for his ensuite, he wasn't ready to face the others. He'd barely gotten any sleep after that disastrous encounter, unable to stop thinking about it while simultaneously thinking that he might have hallucinated the entire thing. Why did they even open the door? Seungmin had barely covered himself, but Chan had been fully exposed and didn't even bother to stop touching himself. He groaned as he imagined Chan inside Seungmin just moments before he saw them.
He braced himself on the shower wall with one hand and worked on his cock with the other, keeping his gasps as quiet as possible. ‘I've heard you moan my name before,’ Chan had said. Fuck, how many times did they hear him touching himself thinking of his friends? They were all so… and then there was Seungminnie, driving him crazy. “Minnie,” he whispered, biting his lip.
The sound of the sliding door in the shower opening almost made him crawl out of his skin. Before he could even turn around, he felt a fully clothed body pressing him up to the wall. “It's ok, baby. Hyung is right here,” Seungmin mumbled right into his ear as he snuck his hand around him and wrapped it around his cock, a bit too tightly, just a tad too rough, moving root to tip, thumbing at the slit.
“Ah, Minnie!” He whimpered, grabbing Seungmin’s wrist without making any attempts to stop him. “What are you doing?” He shivered, letting his eyes fall shut and biting his lip to avoid moaning. It had been way too long.
“Just wanted to see if you were ok after last night. I thought I had overstepped or read things wrong between us. Channie had to stop me from coming to your room so many times.” Seungmin bit his earlobe before pressing soft kisses against his neck, his hand speeding up just a bit.
Then, Jeongin felt it; Minnie was hard, pressing his clothed cock against his ass. He moaned. When had his eyes fallen shut?
“Shh, let Hyung take care of you, then we can talk,” he whispered.
He shook his head. “Let's not. We don't need to talk about it at all. Ever!”
“Do you want me to stop?” Seungmin asked, taking a step back, his hand slowing down.
“No!” Jeongin groaned. “Don't stop!”
And just like that Seungmin was pressed flush to him again, the hand on Jeongin’s cock sped up, wanking him furiously. The contrast of the cool shower tiles against his chest, the hot water running down his back and Seungmin’s soaking sweats rubbing against his ass only added to the experience. God, this had to be a dream. He arched his back even more so that Minnie could hump him better. It was only fair that he got off too.
“Ah, Iyen-ah!” Seungmin moaned. “Iyennie! Iyennie! I'm so close, baby!”
“Fuck!” Jeongin threw his head back and moaned loudly as he came all over Seungmin's hand. Just as he was catching his breath, he looked over his shoulder, catching the precise moment Minnie pulled his pants down and stroked his own cock using his come as lube. It was insane. Hot, but insane. The surprises weren't over though. Minnie pulled Jeongin’s ass cheek aside and pressed the tip of his cock right up to his exposed hole before coming. For a split second, he’d thought Seungmin was going to try to fuck him raw and unprepped, but he should have known that Minnie would never be so reckless and risk hurting him like that. He just wanted to mark what he perceived as his.
The water was starting to run cold so they had to hurry and finish showering, leaving Seungmin's wet clothes on the floor and walking out to the bedroom in search of something to wear. It should have been nerve wracking but the usual noise inside Jeongin’s head was completely gone; there was only silence. He threw a sweats and t-shirt combo at Seungmin and put on a matching set himself.
“Come on, let's go,” Seungmin said, offering his hand for him to take.
Jeongin hesitated. They couldn't really make him talk about it, but he didn't want to make things even more awkward. That would probably result in the others asking what his problem was and he had no intention of answering any questions. Once his secrets started to come out, who knew what else would be found out.
He linked his fingers with Seungmin who, once again, took him by surprise by pushing him against the wall and pressing their lips into a searing kiss. This, Jeongin was used to. Not with his friend, of course, but he considered himself a good kisser. Wanting to prove himself, he deepened the kiss, using his tongue just enough to tease, to let Minnie know that he also had a hand up his sleeve.
Seungmin moaned and broke the kiss, his brows furrowing for a split second before he pulled away from him and walked out the door.
Jeongin followed after him, walking slower as they approached Chan's room, already regretting his decision.
Minnie paused a few steps further down the hall, looking at him over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
Without waiting for a reply, Seungmin lifted his hand to knock on the door, but stopped himself, shaking his head, and walked in with Jeongin close behind.
Chan sat against the headboard, scrolling on his phone. He was wearing only a pair of black shorts and Jeongin was sure that there was nothing else underneath them. He raised a single eyebrow at them. He knew. “I thought I told you to leave it alone,” he said, giving Seungmin a harsh look.
Seungmin froze, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “I just went to check on him.”
“These walls are much thinner than you think and you are never able to keep your mouth shut.”
Minnie let his head hang and remained quiet.
Jeongin was at a loss. On one hand, the attention wasn't on him, on the other Seungmin was getting scolded for having sex with him. Oh, fuck. He had sex with Chan's boyfriend. His eyes began to burn as shame and the meaning of what he'd just done caught up with him. “I'm sorry, Hyung. I’ll leave, I -”
That spurred Chan on. He rushed to his side and pulled him into a tight hug. “No, Innie. Baby, I'm not mad at you,” he tsked. “I just wanted us to talk properly, to check that you were alright. It's not right to pressure you like we did last night. You were clearly not interested.”
Seungmin looked at him with a horrified expression at Chan’s words.
“No! I was!” Jeongin said, a bit too loudly. “I was,” he tried again, wrapping his arms around Chan. “I just didn't know you were dating and now - I had sex with your boyfriend. I'm so sorry! I wasn’t thinking!”
Chan loosened his hold on him and looked into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It's ok, we are fairly open. And everyone has a hall pass when it comes to you - as long as you want it, of course. And whoever took your first time was supposed to make it super special. That was the deal.”
There was too much to unpack there, but most importantly… “I'm not a virgin, what the fuck?” Jeongin said, frowning.
Seungmin finally snapped and stalked the short distance towards him. “What do you mean? Who took it?” He demanded. “It was supposed to be me!”
“You are only like six years too late!” Jeongin snorted humourlessly. “Maybe you shouldn't have spent the last few years treating me like a fucking child!”
“I-” Seungmin's face fell, his eyes blinking repeatedly.
“Aish, Iyen-ah!” Chan said, shaking his head. “I failed you. It’s my fault that you were so overprotected, to the point that you had to seek what you needed elsewhere. I’m so sorry, baby.” He cupped Jeongin’s cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before stepping back.
Jeongin’s sanity crumbled into a pile of dust. That kiss was the final nail in the coffin. He pressed his hands to Chan’s chest, running them up to his shoulders and resting them there. He leaned in, feeling their breaths mingling together. “Make it up to me. Teach me.” He looked at Seungmin, raising one eyebrow at him, challenging him too.
Chan bit his lip, pulling him closer by the hips, lips hovering over his jaw, tracing it without a single touch. “What do you need, baby? Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want.” He bit into Jeongin’s neck softly.
“Fuck!” He moaned. Seungmin came to stand behind him, attacking the other side of his neck. Jeongin reached back and buried his fingers into Seungmin’s hair, pulling slightly, silently begging for more. “I want to be sexy,” he finally said. “For my solo stage. I want people to want me.”
“You are,” Chan said. “You are so sexy.” He pressed a quick kiss to Jeongin’s pouting lips and slowly pulled his T-shirt above his head. “So sexy,” he repeated. “Let us show you how much we want you.”
He gasped, nodding dumbly as he let them do as they wished. Before he even knew what was happening, he found himself fully naked in Chan’s bed, eyes closed, four hands tracing his skin softly, two mouths licking at every crevice, going down his neck, his stomach, biting his nipples, blowing on his tummy, dipping their tongues inside his belly button and finally meeting around his cock. He’d thought he knew what real pleasure was like, but he’d never experienced this. He felt drunk with the attention, unable to focus on any single sensation, until someone pinched his nipple, making him open his eyes and raise his head with a groan.
“Look,” said Seungmin. “Watch and learn.” His eyes looked positively demonic, filled with lust in a way Jeongin had never seen. Chan sucked a bruise into his neck and blew air on it, making him shiver.
Both he and Seungmin mouthed at the sides of Jeongin’s cock, causing him to let out an inhuman sound. They were putting on a show for him. It was all too much. Seungmin gave Chan a look before taking Jeongin fully into his mouth and even down his throat, pulling out until he could comfortably swirl his tongue around the tip and go back down for more. Chan let out a groan at the sight and focused on sucking at Jeongin’s balls messily, slowly pushing his thighs apart and settling between them.
Jeongin was struggling to keep his eyes open with the onslaught of pleasure cursing through him. Seungmin took him down his throat at the same time Chan ran his tongue down to his hole, teasing his rim. “Ah! Please!” He moaned, burying his fingers in Chan’s hair and pulling him closer, getting a bite on his inner thigh in response.
Seungmin slowed down as Chan got the lube from the nightstand before returning to his spot. “How do you want us?” He asked, looking up at him as he licked the mark he’d just made.
“I don’t know,” Jeongin said, too far gone to think as he felt a slicked finger pressing inside of him so easily. He gasped, shutting his eyes and letting a smile spread across his lips. He wished they would have done this long ago.
Then, everything stopped. The finger inside him stilled at his lack of response. Jeongin opened his eyes with a frown and raised his head to see what was the matter.
“Do you wanna stop?” Chan asked, looking unimpressed. The tone was familiar, just like the one Seungmin had used on him before. He guessed it made sense that Seungminnie tried to emulate what he knew and liked.
“No!” he whined, feeling more choked up by the second. He needed to come but he also didn’t want it to end so fast. He needed more, harder, faster, deeper!
“Then speak up!” Minnie said, using his hand to stroke him slowly as he sucked on the tip, his eyes never leaving Jeongin’s.
“I just don’t know,” he admitted. “I need… I need - both.” It was honestly a bit embarrassing how desperate he felt.
Seungmin gave him a reassuring smile and removed his clothes with ease. The sight of his hard cock made Jeongin’s mouth water. “Do you want me to ride you while Channie fucks you?” He asked, returning to his spot and wrapping his hand around him once again. Why did it sound like it was not the first time he had imagined this scenario?
It didn’t matter. Jeongin moaned loudly at the suggestion, or perhaps it was also because of the second finger Chan was working into him. “Ah! Ah! Channie!” He hissed, his jaw slack, moans falling from his lips as he felt himself descend into madness.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Chan said, working more fingers into him with expertise. How many? He wasn’t sure. Maybe four, but it didn’t feel like too much. Seungmin’s hand had slowed down a lot since he had to multitask and open himself up as well.
“Can I help, Minnie?” Jeongin asked, pouting.
“You know I can never say no to you when you use that tone,” Seungmin replied, letting go of him and giving him a reproachful look.
“I know,” he smirked, feeling proud of himself.
Seungmin straddled his chest and gave him the lube, taking his cock in his hand and pressing it to Jeongin’s lips. “Suck, since you like to be like that. And get those long fingers inside me.” The authoritative tone in his voice faltered when Jeongin swallowed him whole and slowly pressed two lubed fingers inside of him, immediately searching for his prostate.
Chan removed his shorts swiftly. He pulled Jeongin’s hips flush to him and let the youngest’s thighs rest on his. He then slathered lube on his cock and pressed the tip to Jeongin’s rim while he was distracted. He’d known Chan was massive, he’d even seen him the previous night, but this felt borderline deadly. How the fuck did Seungmin take it? “Ah! Slow down a bit, please,” he hissed through the intrusion, groaning when the head finally popped in.
“Pup, get on with it. Help our baby feel comfortable,” Chan ordered through gritted teeth. “So tight, Iyen-ah!”
“I’m not that tight, you’re just a beast!” Jeongin said, breathing as deeply as he could.
“It’s ok, Innie. We’ll take it slowly, just try to relax,” Chan said.
Seungmin shuffled down and grabbed Jeongin’s cock and sank down on it with too much ease. It dawned on him that Minnie must have still been loose from last night, or maybe even this morning. He wondered if he had ridden Chan before sneaking into his bathroom. His inner monologue abandoned him as he gasped, feeling a sense of pride as he saw Minnie’s eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Good Pup,” Chan said, taking a calming breath.
Seungmin rose to his knees and sank back down, setting his hands on his own thighs. “Innie!” he sighed, making Jeongin believe that he had truly been waiting for the chance to do this with him.
Running his hands up Seungminnie’s thighs and following up to his shoulders, Jeongin pulled him down for a slow kiss. He used every single trick he knew to try to convey his feelings to Minnie, his gratitude, his love, and his desire. Letting his body take over, he placed his hands on Seungmin’s ass and helped him move without breaking the kiss, letting it get messier and messier with every passing second. The drag was going to be the end of him, he was sure of it.
Chan felt Innie relax around him and took this as a sign to start thrusting into him slowly.
Jeongin’s brow burrowed into a frown as he moaned into Seungmin’s mouth. He opened his eyes and caught Chan staring at him with a hungry look, his lower lip caught between his teeth. His thrusts gained momentum and Jeongin couldn’t keep up with the kiss any longer, which made Minnie whine in protest.
“No!” He pouted, giving Jeongin a pitiful look as he continued to ride him.
“Come here, Seungminnie. Let’s show Innie how it’s done,” Chan said sweetly.
Seungmin nodded, his face showing that he was too far gone already. Gone were all the defiant attitude and dominance he’d displayed in the beginning. He sat upright, his back pressed to Chan’s chest as they began to move together. Chan thrust into Jeongin, rolling his hips, easily finding a steady rhythm that was setting him ablaze. The hand he had on Seungmin’s stomach guaranteed that they moved together, riding and thrusting as a single wave traveling through the ocean, waiting to crash against Jeongin, waiting to drown him.
Jeongin felt the pull starting from his toes and cursing through his body until it pooled at the bottom of his stomach with such a force that he felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” He moaned, his voice going higher and higher as their moves gained momentum, leaving him breathless. He tried to delay it, to hold onto his sanity, but he couldn’t stop. “Fuck!” He screamed.
Both sets of eyes focused on him, pinning him in place as his orgasm cursed through him, making every single hair on his body stand, his muscles pulling, his back arching just a bit too much as he screamed their names and came into Seungmin.
Chan pulled Seungmin’s hair, twisting his face and kissing him roughly as they continued to move in unison, using Jeongin’s body to get off.
“Too much!” He whimpered, shaking with the overstimulation.
Chan pulled out and pushed Seungmin to lay on Jeongin’s chest, causing his softening cock to slip out along with some of his come. He shivered, resisting the urge to shut his eyes in favor of watching the scene in front of him. Chan smirked at him, lined his cock to Minnie’s hole and entered him, allowing him only a moment to adjust before he began to thrust into him at a brutal pace that had Minnie moaning so loudly the entire building could probably hear him.
Jeongin whimpered and wrapped his arms around Minnie as a tether, surrendering under the friction of both bodies on his. When Chan’s balls rubbed against his sensitive cock, he bit into Seungmin’s neck, causing him to come all over their chests.
Chan thrust a few more times, dragging whimpers from Seungmin’s lips before he came deep inside him and leaned down to drop a kiss on his shoulder. He gave Jeongin a last smile before he laid on Minnie’s back, panting.
Jeongin coughed. “You guys are so heavy! You can’t both lay on me, you’ll crush me!”
They laughed but remained on top, feeling him struggle for a couple of minutes before rolling off of him, keeping him in the middle.
“This was an amazing idea,” said Minnie with a sigh, one thigh thrown over Jeongin’s legs.
“Mmm,” he said in agreement. “Do you think it will help me with the concept?”
“If you still have doubts we can do it again. Or we can bring the others,” Chan said as he lay on his side, running his fingers through Jeongin’s hair.
Jeonging snorted; he felt way too boneless for any of that. “About that, what did you mean with ‘Everyone has a hall pass’?”
Minnie looked into his eyes fondly and kissed him. “Everyone wants you and no matter who is dating who at any given time, we have agreed that you are the one person everyone gets to be with. You just have to say the word.”
Jeongin blinked repeatedly. “That’s… insane.” It was the right flavor of insane for him, unfortunately. His showers were about to get much longer.
“Is it? Have we been telling you how much we love you, how cute and hot we think you are for nothing?” Chan asked.
Jeongin paused. Too many mental images flashed before his eyes. The possibilities were interesting. “Even Minho and Jisung?” Jeongin asked tiredly. Those two were way too jealous of each other.
Minnie snorted. “It was a big argument between them, but they agreed that they would only be with you in a threesome.”
“Ah, of course!” Jeongin chuckled, rolling his eyes. He blinked slowly, trying to keep his eyes open, and let out a yawn.
Chan smiled at him and kissed him softly. “Sleep, baby. We’ll wake you up in time for rehearsals.”
Letting out a happy sigh, Jeongin smiled and let sleep claim him.
That night, and all that followed until the first concert of the tour, he dreamt of two hot bodies pleasuring him until he nearly lost his mind. That image followed him as he walked out on stage with a smirk. He looked at the crowd with a raised eyebrow. He was ready.
Final Author Notre: Hi STAY, this is my first fic in this fandom! I support all ships so I will write anything that interests me except Xreader. I started writing in 2018 and I've written over 100 fics for other fandoms but this feels like a new experience so I'm taking it slow, unlike Chaminin in the fic.
This story was thought of as a one-shot but if you have any other ships that you would like to see in this particular universe, drop me an anon and I can see if my mind agrees to write it.
I accept people pointing out typos and stuff like that but please keep it respectful. I don't say this to protect myself but you, I bite.
Summary: Seungmin tries not to think about his conversation with Chan. Really, he does! Mostly because he’s embarrassed - who brings up a porn video in front of their hyung?? - but also because a little part of him is curious. The more he thinks about it, the more he tells himself that it’s because he wants to try it with you. He can see it now, how pretty you would look with floppy dog ears on your head and a cute little tail plug in your ass. But when the things arrive, Seungmin can’t help but try it on first. He has to safety test it first, make sure he only got the best products for his baby.
…shame that you just happened to get home early that day to surprise your boyfriend on his day off. Shame that you just happened to walk in on him, fingers deep in himself and a pair of floppy brown ears atop his head. Shame that you just had to play with your new, embarrassed puppy until he cries.
Warnings: sub!seungmin, dom!reader, pet play (ears, collar, tail plug), pillow humping, mentioned oral fixation (seungmin), masturbation (seungmin), watching porn (seungmin), penetration (seungmin! and reader!receiving), little bit of a breeding kink, swearing
w.c.: 13.1K (yikes!)
– – –
This was an absolute delight to write. Puppy Seungmin will always do something chemically to my brain <3 Especially embarrassed puppy Seungmin!!!! There's something about a pretty boy being nervous to sub that does makes my brain sooooo happy (Seungmin and Minho especially). I really hope you guys like my part of this series!
Make sure to check out @gnabieprotector's part for Chan as well!!!! It's so, so yummy <3 It's linked at the top of this fic and at the end. Thank you guys for supporting us with this!!!
Seungmin wakes up the morning after with a splitting headache and a sense of regret that he can’t seem to place just yet. His mouth tastes like morning breath and alcohol, his hair feels like it’s in a million directions, and the pounding of his head only worsens as he tries to lift himself up. He flops back down helplessly, letting out a little grumble when he realizes the floor is cold. He supposes he probably should get up, but part of his brain registers that he doesn’t have anything on his schedule until late afternoon, so he lets himself lay there like a ragdoll on the floor for a little longer.
He blinks his bleary eyes open again not even a moment later, his stomach suddenly deciding to grumble loudly, and he groans again. Of course he’s hungry right now, right when the floor was just starting to feel comfy enough to drag him back to sleep. He huffs, the headache pounds at the inside of his skull again, and the world spins as he struggles to get himself into a sitting position against the couch behind him.
He realizes with sudden clarity that this is not his and Felix’s dorm. He squints at the entertainment stand in front of him, too organized and a little too boring to be his.
“Finally awake?” A gentle voice calls from the left, and Seungmin’s head lolls as he looks over to find Chan peering at him from the kitchen, “I made breakfast. Figured your head was killing you, I’ve got your hangover coffee brewing.”
Seungmin gets a flash of a memory for a moment, of sitting down with Chan for drinks in his dorm, and then stars flash behind his eyelids and he doesn’t get the luxury of thinking anymore. He just wheezes out another groan, and Chan sighs.
“C’mon, you big baby, you did this to yourself,” Chan says, and Seungmin hears his feet thud thud thudding closer, “Up we go.”
Seungmin makes a weak sound of protest in the back of his throat, but Chan ignores him, lifting him off the ground like he weighs nothing and carrying him into the kitchen. The kitchen light is too bright too much and Seungmin whimpers, burying his face in Chan’s neck to hide from the way it scrapes against his eyes. If he was in a better headspace he’d be embarrassed, but right now Chan is warm and his head is throbbing, so Seungmin lets himself give in to some of his instincts.
He makes an unhappy noise when Chan puts him down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, deprived of both warmth and the shoulder that was protecting his eyes from the light, but Chan just ruffles his hair and pulls away from him easily. Seungmin pouts at his back, watching as Chan carefully pours a cup of coffee for him and brings it over. His smile at Seungmin’s pouty face is almost more blinding than the light that he was hiding from before, and Seungmin has to squint to even look at him.
Chan doesn’t say a word, just slides the mug over to him and putters back off to the kitchen. He looks far too awake and alert for a guy that was also drunk last night, and Seungmin would be jealous if he had the capacity to maintain any feeling other than pain and sleepy right now. He lets his head fall to the table, hoping the dull ache from hitting his head on the wood might snap some sense into him (it doesn’t). He thinks he’s starting to drift off again to the smell of coffee and something sweet when Chan nudges his shoulder gently.
“Dude. Drink your coffee, we have lines to record later,” He reprimands, though it’s said with so much fondness it hardly lands, “Plus, I made pancakes. Please eat while they’re still warm.”
Seungmin grumbles unintelligibly but still complies. Chan settles in across from him and scrolls on his phone while he eats, glancing up at Seungmin every so often, like he’s checking in on him. It takes about half the cup of coffee for Seungmin’s head to de-fog, and the wave of embarrassment punches him in the face the second he has enough clarity to remember himself.
“...thanks for taking care of me, hyung.” He murmurs quietly, just loud enough for Chan to hear.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you~” Chan sings, cooing when Seungmin’s ears go red and he glares at him.
“Never mind! I’m never saying anything nice to you ever again,” Seungmin says, stabbing his pancake a little too hard, “You heard me just fine.”
Chan grins, and reaches across the table to try to ruffle his hair again. This time, Seungmin’s awake enough to smack his hand away and give him a deadpan glare, which just makes Chan’s snort, nose crinkling and eyes disappearing into half-crescents. He leans his chin on his hand instead as he stares Seungmin down, still smiling.
“You’re so cute, Seungmo!” He coos, giggling when Seungmin’s face scrunches in displeasure, “Aegyo, look at you! You’re getting all red, my blushy little dongsaeng~”
“Shut up, hyung,” Seungmin huffs, “Don’t you have better things to do?”
“Than take care of my dongsaeng? Never,” Chan says, with such sincerity that Seungmin finds it hard to keep playing like he doesn’t like Chan’s attention, “Seungmin’s much more important than whatever else I need to do.”
That’s just code for “I already did all the work I could physically do”, because Seungmin knows for a fact that Chan prioritizes work over just about everything. Still, the sentiment is nice, so he just rolls his eyes, avoiding Chan’s eyes.
“Thank you, hyung,” he says, as sincerely as he can grit out, “You do too much for us.”
Chan makes a pleased little sound, and Seungmin looks over long enough to catch him smiling at Seungmin with that same, annoying fondness that he heard in his voice earlier. Seungmin rolls his eyes again, and they finish breakfast in a comfortable silence.
Chan reminds him to be on time to the studio later as he sees him out (as if Seungmin has ever been late), and Seungmin takes the short walk back to his own dorm, head no longer pounding and legs only a little uncoordinated. Thank god for Channie hyung, he muses, and notes that he should probably thank him properly later. Not with words - god forbid Seungmin uses his words - but with something else. The stupid dinky keychain Chan had been looking at on his phone the other day ends up getting ordered, despite how “dumb” Seungmin had told him it looked, and he thinks he’ll grab some of the snacks that Chan likes from the convenience store before he drops into the studio.
He opens Google to look up the convenience store’s hours (he can’t imagine they aren’t open in the middle of the day, but Seungmin likes to be sure) and that’s when he sees it.
Why the hell is Pornhub open on my phone? He thinks, blinking down at his phone like it’s cursed. It must be, because he watches in rapt horror as a guy in what seems to be dog ears humps against someone’s foot. No one’s in the dorm but him, but Seungmin still scrambles to click his phone off, embarrassment heating his face. He misses, though, fingers slippery in their desperation, and instead the volume clicks up up up, and he can hear the voices of the two people on screen.
“Such a dirty boy, humping my shoe like a dog.”
Seungmin shivers, the condescending tone of the person above the boy on screen making his stomach do a weird flip. The boy with the ears on whimpers, tongue lolling out and eyes rolling back as his hips kick up, and Seungmin watches with wide eyes as he begs to come. Slurred pleas and little “mong mong”s slip out of his mouth, and the person above him reaches down to loop two fingers into the thick collar he’s wearing, giving it one solid tug.
“Come.”
Seungmin doesn’t realize the whine that he heard didn’t come from the screen until he snaps back into himself and turns the volume back down, shutting his phone off in a hurry. The sound of his own noise hovers in the air, but he tries to ignore it. He catches his reflection in the black of his phone screen, mouth parted in a little ‘o’ and cheeks flushed scarlet, and he drops his phone, not wanting to see himself any longer.
Everything from last night comes back in a flash, from the way that Chan bristled when he passed him the phone to the way that heat curled up his spine when Chan had called him a mutt. He groans to himself, sound echoing off the too empty walls of the dorm. He knows he gets a little…risque, when he’s drunk, but he figured he had it together enough to not go and show Chan porn on his phone! The petplay stuff had only been on his mind because he had found a pair of cat ears in Jisung’s room the other day when he had asked to borrow a charger. Jisung had told him that he could just go grab one, so Seungmin had gone digging in the drawer that Jisung said it would be in, only to find a sleek pair of cat ears in there, right next to the cord he needed. He had half the mind to grab them and wear them out, make some joke about how he couldn’t find the charger but had found something far more interesting, but then he thought about the blackmail they would have if they got a picture of him in those things, and let them be.
Doesn’t mean he let it go, though. No, the second he made it into the living room where Jisung and Minho were perched, he opened his dumb mouth, ready to make a little fun of them.
“So which one of you is the Discord kitten?” He says bluntly, not even looking over at the two of them as he goes to plug his phone into the wall.
“What?” Jisung says, and he hears Minho sputter on his water.
“You heard me,” Seungmin says absentmindedly, huffing when he tries to insert the USB end in the wrong way, still not looking back, “Which one of you is the kitten?”
He had expected some sort of silly joke, assuming that the cat ears were just a gag gift or left over from a fan sign, but the sharp silence dragged out a little too long, and Seungmin tilted his head to look at the two of them lazily.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he said, eyebrows furrowing, “It’s not my fault you put the cat ears right next to the phone charger.”
Minho hisses something into Jisung’s ear quietly, too quiet for Seungmin to catch, but he watches the way that Minho’s ears go bright red and his grip on Jisung’s hand tightens dramatically. Minho looks like he wants to bury himself in a hole and disappear forever, and Seungmin doesn’t quite understand-
“Geez, you go around asking about everybody’s sex life like that, Seungmin-ah?” Jisung says sheepishly, yelping when Minho jabs at him, “What? No point in denying it now.”
Oh.
“...what?” Seungmin responds, bewildered. “I just- I assumed they were a joke thing-”
“It’s called pet play, my dear dongsaeng,” Jisung says, suddenly confident now that Seungmin’s turning red, too, “So basically, Minho puts on the ears and a collar and sometimes even a tail-oooww!”
Minho slaps a hand over Jisung’s mouth and digs his fingers into his side, cheeks on fire and looking anywhere but Seungmin. Not that Seungmin would know, because the spot behind Jisung’s head is suddenly very interesting, and he can’t seem to look at either of them.
“I’m barely younger than you, don’t call me dongsaeng,” he huffs, putting himself on the furthest end of the couch from the duo, “I didn’t know it was a sex thing. Please don’t tell me about your sexcapades, because, for the last time, I do not want to know.”
Minho had cut the conversation off there (before Jisung blabbed any more about their sex life, thank god), and Seungmin had pretended not to think about it for a few days. Unfortunately, his natural curiosity got the better of him, and the night before he and Chan had gotten drunk together, he had been browsing the internet. For research purposes, obviously, because Seungmin didn’t like that he didn’t actually know what the hell Jisung had been talking about. He had made it seem like such common knowledge that Seungmin had felt a little dumb, and if there’s anything that Seungmin hates, well, it’s feeling dumb, so he had to go digging for answers himself. He sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Jisung, because it gives Jisung the satisfaction of knowing something he doesn’t, and it also means that Seungmin’s going to learn way more about his and Minho’s sex life than he would ever want to know. He pictures Minho in the cat ears again for a breath and throws up a little in his mouth.
Which is why it had been a little fresh on his mind, he supposes, and why he had even remembered it enough to drunkenly bring it up to Chan last night. He groans again, and thinks that he has to get Chan even more snacks now, because he deserves a thank you and an apology. Seungmin vows to act like he completely forgot that they ever had that conversation, and he just prays that Chan’s in the same boat. He’s in luck, because when he gets to the studio, Chan doesn’t act like anything’s wrong, so far in leader mode that he’s trying to refuse Seungmin’s snack offering because they “aren’t good before singing, Seungminnie!” Seungmin huffs, but the tension in his shoulder dissipates, and he tries not to ever think about the stupid porn video he showed Chan ever again.
It’s a few days later when his brain decides to bring it back into his mind. Mostly because it’s been plaguing his dreams, and you’ve been picking up on his weird energy.
“What’s bothering you? You’re a little space-y, lately.” You had asked him earnestly over dinner the other night, and Seungmin had acted unsure, so you dropped it.
…but then he had another wet dream that following night, and he thinks he knows that, certainly, that must be the problem.
Seungmin’s not the type to have that kind of dream in the first place - he has a partner who has sex with him on the regular, and his brain doesn’t have to get that kind of desperate anymore - so it throws him off kilter. He can never remember what the dreams were about either, just can feel the aftermath of sticky underwear and hear the soft curl of your voice, taunting him from his dreams. He wakes up one morning and his neck feels empty, and he scratches at it until he’s awake enough to snap himself out of it. Another night, he wakes up with his own fingers pressed into his mouth, dried spit coating his hand, arm, and pillow. It’s gross, and he takes an extra long shower after he drags himself out of bed (much to Felix’s chagrin, who whines about the hot water being lukewarm later). The third night he wakes up with his pillow between his legs, fingers desperately curled into it to pull it closer.
The stupid video he showed Chan continues to haunt him, and Seungmin comes to the conclusion that maybe his subconscious is trying to get him to spice things up in the bedroom a little bit. You’re by no means completely vanilla in the sex you have with Seungmin, but something like petplay was out of the range of the things you’ve done. Seungmin wonders if the two of you are vanilla, considering that Seungmin didn’t even know what petplay was until Jisung brought it up. Though he gets the feeling that anyone is vanilla compared to Han Jisung, so he pushes that thought away.
He only lasts one more day before he’s nervously looking up “petplay” again. He did a full sweep of the dorm first, making sure Felix was 1000% not home right now, and then locks his bedroom door and slips his headphones on. One incognito tab later, he’s looking at the same boy he had been that night. He finds that it’s a different video from the same creator, but it evokes the same response in him - a deep, curling heat settles in his stomach, his head feels fuzzy, and his cock leaks in interest. Seungmin doesn’t even realize he’s pressing his palm into the outline of his cock and grinding up until the video autoplays to a different one, and he feels the stickiness of his own precum on his hand.
There’s a sense of shame that hangs over his head as he keeps exploring, and he wonders if it’s because he’s exploring this without you. Surely that must be it, but this sort of thing can’t just be sprung on you. Seungmin needs to do the proper research, figure out all the nooks and crannies of the kink before he even considers bringing you into it with him. He would never want to hurt you, after all, so that’s why the “one night” exploration turns into a nightly ritual. Doors locked, headphones on, incognito tab pulled up to his favorite creator - a different guy than the one he showed Chan, mostly because he’s more vocal than the first guy - and Seungmin’s grinding up into his palm again, watching with rapt eyes as the boy on screen gets treated like a stupid dog.
He imagines you in that position, at his feet. He imagines you with cute little dog ears on that match your hair, a collar that has his name engraved on the back, a little plug stretching you open, a short tail connected to it. It’s not as satisfying as watching the guy in the videos, but Seungmin chalks that up to his poor imagination and the fact that it would feel so much better to do it to you in person.
One of the nights Seungmin brings his laptop to his bed, sick of jerking off in his desk chair like a total loser. He’s not really sure he can even call it “jerking off” anymore, not with the way he’s painting the inside of his boxers white just from humping into his own palm, but he tries not to think about it. I’m just playing into the dynamic of the videos, he reasons with himself, nothing wrong with that. It’s not like he’s actually interested in being the one at your feet. He’s sure he would want it to be the other way around.
He’s snapped back into reality when a sharp moan rings out in his ears, and the puppy boy on screen is fucking into a soft, stuffed rabbit. Seungmin’s breath catches, and he’s swarmed with how good it must feels, to fuck your cock against something so nice and soft. Something so innocent getting all tarnished with your precum, until you stain it white with your release like a mutt.
He’s panting without realizing it, body shifting to mimic the boy on the screen. But he has no plush rabbit to fuck, and he rolls his hips into the air with a soft whine, cock straining and red already just from watchin the boy on screen hump his stuffed bunny. His hips follow the motions, but it’s not enough, and his fingers are fumbling around the bed, frantic, eyes unable to look anywhere but the screen. The person off-screen laughs, high and tinkling, as the boy can’t seem to keep a steady rhythm.
“Puppy’s so desperate that he can’t even get himself off? Do I really need to help you with everything, you dumb mutt?”
Seungmin slips a pillow under him and whines along with the boy on screen, the friction finally enough, and his hips start to hump at their own rhythm. It’s almost uncontrollable how he humps them against the soft fabric of the pillow case, hips uncoordinated and frantic, heat curling in his abdomen as the person off-screen steps into frame, arms curling around the desperate boy and helping him guide his hips.
“That feel better, pup? Just needed someone to help you, hmm? So dumb puppy, there we go…”
Their voice trails off as they take control of the boy’s pace, nipping gently at a sensitive spot below his ear just to make him squirm. Seungmin squirms along with him, and he can feel the ghost of your breath on his neck, can feel your fingers digging into his hips, and hear your voice in his ears, and-
“Come.”
He knows, logically, that it’s the person on the other side of the screen saying it, but his mind is muddled, filled with cotton and puppy thoughts like hump and mate, and he swears that it’s your voice ringing in his ears, telling him to come. He pants, hips unable to stop even after the burn of overstimulation sinks in, because he hasn’t been told to stop. His face feels wet, tears streaking down his cheeks and mixing with the drool sneaking out of the corner of his mouth, but he’s too floaty to feel anything other than pleasure.
He doesn’t know how many times he comes that night, but he knows it’s a lot, because his underwear and the pillow underneath him are stained with his cum, and he wrinkles his nose when the pillowcase all of crunches when he becomes conscious enough to shift off of it. He immediately strips it and tosses all of cum-stained nonsense into his hamper, praying that there’s never a world where his room goes under black light any time soon.
There’s that flare of shame again, swirling in the pits of his stomach, but he once again presses it down, deadset on ignoring it until it disappears. He’s done his research now, really, and he’s probably over-qualified at this point in regards to puppy play. He tried to watch a kitty play video once, but he remembers the ears at Minho and Jisung’s dorm, remembers how he imagined Minho would look in them, and gets sick to his stomach all over again. So he sticks to the puppy play stuff, telling himself every time when the post-nut clarity starts to set in that it’s just because he wants to try it with you.
He likes to think that his recent…escapades aren’t affecting his performance in the bedroom with you. In the beginning, they really aren’t, because he’s only breached the surface of his curiosity. It’s just a thing that his pervert hyung and his equally perverted other hyung are into, and he wants to see what the hype is about.
But the further he descends into it, when the nightly ritual becomes a necessary part of his bedtime routine, the more you’re picking up on some sort of shift. And it’s really subtle, at first. Seungmin had always been a dominant force with you in the bedroom, but he’d openly expressed on multiple occasions that one of his favorite things you did in the bedroom was fight back.
“I like a brat,” he had told you once, grinning when your cheeks flushed, “It makes it so much more fun to break them.”
Sometimes, he does need total control, and you get that - when things feel completely out of control, it’s nice to have control of one thing, even if it’s only for the night. But most nights, he wants that fight, wants to watch that spark in your eye dim to a glassy haze as your thoughts get muddled and your mind turns to mush under his harsh fingers. He’s not a gentle lover, and you love it, love the way that you can fight tooth and nail and still end up pressed into the sheets, pleading with him for more.
So, naturally, any shift in this dynamic would be noticeable to you. You notice right away when Seungmin gets a little…worse at controlling your bratting. You don’t necessarily think he’s bad at it, per se, but it takes him longer to reel you in, and sometimes, when you use your body weight to roll the two of you over and pin him to the bed, his eyes get a little glassy, his breath a little shorter. Before, he’d give you that lazy grin and make you grind against him, nice and slow, hands on your hips to guide your pace, and laugh as you cried for more. He’d watch you through hooded eyes, buck his hips up to meet you every once and a while just to tease, and keep your hips in that bruising grip of his. His lithe frame makes him look weak, but the years of dancing have treated him well, and he’s got the kind of subtle muscle that makes it hard to fight back against him.
But recently, that muscle doesn’t come out to play as often. When you flip the two of you, he lets you have your way for a little too long, fingers loose around your hips as you grind at your own pace, chasing a peak that you’re hoping he won’t let you hit, because you want to come around his cock, not in your underwear. He lets you fight his hands to the side of his head with a hitched breath, your fingers digging into his wrists as you hump against him.
Seungmin had hinted at being a little bit of a switch very early on into your relationship and hadn’t brought it up since, so you had assumed the dynamic you had was where he wanted to be, but his recent behaviour makes you think otherwise. You don’t mind the shift - it makes your playful fighting feel more even, and it makes him a little meaner once he does decide to be dominant - but it’s never been addressed, and it’s confusing you a little bit.
You think the strangest part is that he doesn’t seem to notice it right away. It’s as if he’s a little less present in those moments where he slips up, and they’re purged from his mind by the time that the two of you are done with your fun for the night. He’s the same old Seungmin before and after those moments, as if the little hints of something aren’t slipping through the cracks. He’s hard to read, but you like to think that you’re getting good at it, and you really do think that he doesn’t notice the way your dynamic is shifting.
Or, if he does, he’s doing a very, very good job at hiding it. There’s no telltale signs of typical Seungmin shenanigans - no slight smirks, no tilts of the head, no ears turning red, no anything that would indicate that Seungmin himself is aware of the shift.
Seungmin only thinks you’re catching on to his newfound fascination when he catches you watching an edit of him on the couch. He slots his head next to yours from over the back of the couch, grinning when you jump and try to angle your phone away.
“What’re you watchin’?” he asks, “Edits of your handsome, sexy boyfriend?”
“Edits of my cute boyfriend,” you counter, already sick of his nonsense, “Look at this one. They’re comparing you to a puppy here!”
You play the video for him, cooing when they show old fan meet videos of him in Pochacco hoods or with dog ears on. Seungmin’s not really watching, not when there’s static filling his ears, his mind grabbing on to the way you said puppy so easily. He inherently knows you aren’t calling him that, but it still makes something he can’t place swirl in his stomach. He wonders how it would feel rolling off of his tongue, if it would sound as pretty as when you say it, as intoxicating as the way the word sounds when your mouth’s the one forming the shape.
“Puppy Seungminnie is so cute,” you coo, “We should get you one of these cute hoodies for home!”
“A-absolutely not.” He retorts, but even he can hear the way his voice falters, the way it sounds almost frail right now.
“Why nooooot?” You whine, tilting your head to look at him, and then grinning.
You reach a finger up to poke at his cheeks, amused, and he puffs them out at you just to see you grin even bigger. You squish his cheeks between your thumb and forefinger in response, gently shaking his head.
“Aw, are you embarrassed?” You say, giggling, not noticing the way that Seungmin’s cheeks are heating up under your fingers.
“‘m not,” he mumbles, though it comes out muffled from the way you’re squishing his face, “Let me go.”
You release him with a sigh, stretching languidly off the couch, “Shame you won’t get one. I want to have puppy Seungmin at home, too, not just at fan meets I can’t attend.”
“Stop calling me that.” He says, nose crinkling, ears red, and you drop it.
That very night, when Seungmin’s performing his now-daily ritual of humping his pillow until his brain’s melting out of his ears, he finds himself scrolling through an online store. He’d been doing a little research on the side, on safe websites to buy the sort of gear he’s interested in, and the website he’s on right now is probably the top recommended one. He finds a pair of nice, floppy ears that come as a set with a tail plug, the reviews all affirming how soft the fur is, and he must still be hazy in the afterglow, because he’s adding it to his cart without a second thought. The color isn’t really your hair color - if he looked long enough, he’d realize just how close to his current hair it is - but he likes the look of it, and the plug seems to be right in that middle ground between too small and too big, so Seungmin thinks it’s a good one to start with.
He places the order before he can second guess it, and then, before he can use the rational part of his brain to stop himself, he opens another tab. This website is chock full of collars, or varying sizes and colors, but he keeps it simple - just a plain black collar with a silver loop at the front, the perfect size to slip a few fingers through and pull with. He rubs at his own neck subconsciously, thinking about how the collar would feel - would feel on you. Certainly not on himself. That’s not why he was doing all of this research. He was doing this for you, because he’s just such a good boyfriend. There were no ulterior motives underlying his actions, certainly not.
He forgets about the order pretty quickly, too caught up in schedules and you and his little nighttime ritual. He misses it one night because of a long dance rehearsal, Minho unable to let them leave the practice room until they got the choreo perfect, and Seungmin’s cranky the whole next day, snapping at anyone and everyone. Chan has to pull him aside and tell him to get his shit together to get Seungmin to, well…get his shit together. It’s embarrassing, and Seungmin thinks he needs to break his new nighttime habit before it becomes an issue down the line, when they’re touring and he can’t exactly go ham on a hotel pillow.
And then, two discrete boxes show up outside the dorm. It’s perfect timing, really - Felix is gone for the next three days for some fashion ambassador thing Seungmin should’ve asked more questions about - and when Seungmin opens the mystery packages and sees the results of his post-nut clarity not hitting him fast enough, well, he’s not complaining.
The reviews hadn’t lied, he notes, as he rubs the fur between his fingers. It’s incredibly soft, and Seungmin spends a little too long just petting at it before he snaps out of it. The collar is in the smaller of the two boxes, kept in a box within the box, and Seungmin carefully slides it out of the packaging, inspecting it. The silver loop glints in the light of his kitchen, and he admires the feel of the leather, just soft enough not to burn but tough enough to feel. That edge of pain is something he knows both of you enjoy, so the collar is perfect. All of the gear is perfect.
…the only issue Seungmin sees is that it hasn’t been tested yet. How will he know how good it’ll make you feel if he doesn’t try it out himself? Obviously, this is a very reasonable conclusion for him to make, and he pats himself on the back as he gathers all of the new toys and brings them to his bedroom. He’s really boyfriend of the year material, testing out the toys he bought for you on himself first to make sure they’re of good quality. You should give him an award, truly. What if it’s a bad batch, and the metal of the plug actually melts inside of you somehow? He can’t have that happen.
Which is why he’s slipping himself out of his clothes in the bedroom, new toys placed carefully on the bed. He’s home alone for a while, so he doesn’t feel any shame when he has to go to the bathroom to clean himself up a little and decides to leave his clothes in the bedroom.
He showers and cleans himself up, unused to the strange pressure inside of him as he does. It’s not terrible, per se, but it’s not a feeling he’s used to, and the fullness makes him a little dizzy, but he cleans himself out dutifully. He has to make sure that this test run is as accurate as possible for your sake, of course.
He fluffs his damp hair up and loosely wraps the towel around himself once he’s done, padding back to his own bedroom carelessly. How lucky was he to be home alone on a free day? Seungmin loves Felix to death, but there’s something magical about having the space to himself today. Especially when his pretty toys came in the mail. He thinks absentmindedly that he should invite you over later, take you over the surfaces of the house he usually wouldn’t dare to with Felix home. He files that away for later, a pleasant hum of arousal under his skin right now a more pressing matter.
The ears fit his head perfectly as he slips them on, and he feels a little lighter when they settle on his head. They’ve got just enough weight on them for him to know they’re there, but not so much so that they feel heavy on his head. He grabs the well-loved bottle of lube from his nightstand and gets onto the sheets, on his hands and knees. His only frame of reference for how the puppies always get opened up for their plug is just like this - presenting like a bitch in heat, ass high in the air and face pressed into the sheets. Seungmin likes the way it feels, how exposed he feels like this. He can feel himself slipping away as he teases a lubed finger around his rim, shivering at how cold it feels against him. Gently, ever so gently, he slips a finger in.
It hurts. Seungmin barely gets the first finger in before he’s hissing in pain, the length and girth of just one of his fingers enough to burn. He figured cleaning himself out earlier would’ve kept him nice and loose, but he supposes since he’s never been opened up before, it’s not a surprise that he’s so tight again already. He takes a shaky breath - in through the nose, out through the mouth - and convinces his body to relax.
Once he can breathe evenly again and there’s no burning sensation left, Seungmin carefully curls his finger, exploring. The pleasant feeling of fullness returns, although it’s not as pleasant as before, and he lets his finger slide out slowly, and then back in. It feels…good, he supposes, but almost like something is missing. He pushes in and out, feeling the squeezing of his walls around his finger, but it’s still not quite right.
He hears a whining sound, pitiful and weak, and he whips his head around only to realize that the sound is coming out of his mouth. He makes another weak sound at that, finger sliding a little more desperately not that he knows he can take it, but it’s still not enough. He desperately presses in a second lubed finger, and his eyes roll back in his head.
The fullness is better now, though not perfect, and the stretch has become a pleasant burn. Seungmin finds he can start moving the two fingers far faster than he got just the one moving, and the presence of a second finger has given him the ability to scissor himself open even wider. He moans at the sensation, voice almost unrecognizable in pitch, and it makes him squirm. He neglected cock leaks between his legs, but he doesn’t even consider touching it, too busy trying to stretch himself open wide enough for a third finger.
He slips the third finger in and he thinks he ascends. He wonders how the plug is going to feel, if just three fingers is enough to have his eyes rolling back in his skull and weak little sounds getting punched out of him. Little ah ah ah!s sneak out of his mouth as his fingers get a little harsher in their thrusts, too desperate now to keep the pace slow. He curls his fingers again, still exploratory in the throws of his pleasure, and oh.
There’s a little place inside of him that feels different under his fingers, but he doesn’t have long to think about it, because he presses down as hard as he can, and he’s coming. It’s like an instinctual reaction, and Seungmin drools all over the sheets and wails as he keeps pressing down on that spot, milking himself for all he’s worth. It feels so insanely good that Seungmin thinks for a moment that surely he must’ve died, because nothing is meant to feel that kind of good. It’s a full body experience, the little spot inside of him sending sparks through every limb and pure heat up his spine. He feels like he’s on fire, panting as he presses that spot again and again, addicted to the pleasure that’s blurring his thoughts. He’s hard again already, body protesting but Seungmin doesn’t care, because it feels too good, and he doesn’t want to think about anything other than feeling good.
He peels his eyes open now (when had he closed them?) just to catch the glint of the metal plug next to his head. Seungmin remembers fuzzily that the whole point of stuffing his fingers in himself had been to slip the pretty plug that matches his ears in, so he begrudgingly pulls his fingers out and reaches for the smooth metal.
It’s still cold under his fingers, and it makes Seungmin shiver when he gently runs the tip around his rim. If he were inserting this into you, Seungmin would tease and make you beg for it. Hold it against your rim with just enough pressure for you to feel it, but never let it breach your hole. Rub the metal around until the cool surface has gone warm from the heat of your skin, and your cheeks are streaked with tears.
But Seungmin feels so impatient. Is this how you always feel? He feels so needy, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t get the plug inside of him right now. Fortunately for him, he’s the one in control of the plug, and he presses it into himself frantically, craving that fullness that he was missing without his fingers stuffed inside of him.
He makes an embarrassing sound, something between a moan and a squeal, as he pushes the whole thing in. And maybe he was too impatient, because the flare of the plug is definitely bigger than his fingers, and he sobs as it stretches him open far wider than he had been stretched before. It hurts, but it hurts so good, and he pushes it all the way in with a nasty squelch! Excess lube dribbles down his balls, but he doesn’t care, because the plug is inside him, and the pressure is so sickeningly good that he can’t think of anything else.
He wiggles his hips a bit with the intent to feel the plug pressing against his guts, but it serves to also make the soft fur of the tail brush against the back of his thighs, and Seungmin feels a dopey grin stretch across his face. He clenches around the plug, and the feeling makes him squeak again.
He feels hot all over, brain muddled and empty, and he fumbles for his favorite pillow. His fingers feel almost useless, bumbling and pawing at the pillow to drag it to the middle of the bed, like he’s a real dog. It makes him shiver, which makes it hard to move the pillow, but he wants to feel good, so he fights through the fog to drag the pillow to the center of the bed.
He straddles it easily, body moving on instinct as he gets ready to hump his pillow, like he has for the past who knows how many nights. It feels different now, dirtier, as every swing of his hips to grind his cock down shifts the thick plug inside of him and swaying the tail behind him. He can feel the plug brush that spot inside of him again, and his hips pick up their pace, trying to find the angle that makes the plug kiss against that sweet spot over and over.
He can’t find it though, not when his thrusts are so sloppy and uneven. He can’t build a pace when his head is full of cotton, can’t even really think, but he still whimpers when he can’t get the plug to make him feel as good as he knows it could.
He is still dragging closer to the edge with ease, but it still feels incomplete. He buries his face in the sheets in front of him, humping harder and sloppier, but it still doesn’t feel quite right. He’s missing something. He's missing you here, you, who’s meant to boss him around, who’s supposed to guide his hips and make sure he feels good. His imagination isn’t enough, and so he just continues to teeter on that edge, feeling naked and weak and too good but not enough. It’s cruel and unusual, he bemoans, hips slowing to a deeper grind when he starts to feel too dumb to keep up the fast pace he was maintaining before.
He still has that feeling of nakedness about him, and he shoves three of his fingers in his own mouth to placate it. It satiates him some, but it’s not enough. He feels raw, like a lightning rod in the middle of a storm, just waiting to be struck. He sobs around his fingers, drool all over his fingers and his hand and the pillow below him, and he drags his other hand to his neck.
The collar.
That’s what he’s missing. The emptiness is radiating from his neck, and he needs it. Needs it more than he needs to come now, even though he knows that, surely, the feeling of the collar around his neck will push him over the edge. He fumbles around the bed, but there’s nothing. He doesn’t feel it, can’t hear it shift over the sound of his own whining and humping, so he’s forced to open his eyes and slow his hips down.
“Looking for this?” A voice cuts through, and it’s as if a bucket of ice water has been dumped over Seungmin’s head.
Because you’re here, in his room, fingers looped through the pretty metal of the collar as you dangle it above his head with a mean grin.
– – –
In your defense, you hadn’t walked in on him on purpose. Your meeting that was supposed to take up your whole afternoon got cancelled suddenly, and in the name of not having to pay you for five hours of nothing, your boss had “graciously” sent you home (how kind). You had thought about texting Seungmin, inviting him out for lunch or something to fill the void of your usually busy hours, but you knew it would be far more fun to surprise him. It was his day off after all, and Felix was out in Paris for a fashion show with a complicated French name you couldn’t say, so you imagine you and Seungmin could have some fun tonight. You always felt bad for when the two of you had to kick Felix out of the dorm for the night, your apartment walls a little too thin for you to have him over at yours instead.
So, obviously, you had come straight to their dorm, letting yourself in with the spare key that Seungmin had given you. Felix had joked that you’re the unofficial third roommate, and you had laughed, jokingly telling him that you would be taking his room when you made it official.
That was what you were thinking about when you walked into the dorm. It’s oddly empty without Felix, but you don’t even hear the usual hum of the TV from the other room, or the sound of…well, anything.
“Minnie?” You call, not very loud.
Maybe he’s still asleep, you muse, secretly hoping that he is. A good nap with your boyfriend and maybe some cuddlefucking afterwards sounded like a dream.
You walk further into the house, and there’s still no one. The living room is empty, the pillows still arranged perfectly, and you frown. A peek into the kitchen reveals the same eerie emptiness that filled the living room space, although there’s at least signs of life here. Two freshly open packages are set on the table, and your curiosity wins, because you’re peeking into them, curious fingers prying them open.
They’re empty, the only things left bubble wrap and a little generic “thank you for supporting a small business!” note that reveals nothing about what was inside the box. You dig around a bit, but there’s really nothing to reveal their contents to you, so you give up, your curiosity only bigger. What could Seungmin have ordered that he had to try right away? That had him so excited that he hadn’t even bothered to break down the boxes for recycling?
You hear a muffled sound echo through the apartment, what sounds almost like a whimper, and things click into place. Your boyfriend, who’s been acting weird, who’s been acting a little more submissive, whose empty packages are starting to seem deliberately discrete, is in his bedroom right now. You wonder how he’s spread out, what kind of toy he’s gotten for himself. You wonder if he heard you come in, or if he was too lost in his own pleasure to hear the door unlock or the sound of your voice. So you tiptoe down the hall to his room to see, quiet as you creak his door open.
And oh, what a sight he is.
You had expected that maybe he had gotten himself a fun toy, maybe a little pocket pussy to fuck his hips up into and pretend it was your hole squeezing him instead. Maybe a vibrator, the kind that has the pulsing settings that are perfecting for edging. You certainly hadn’t expected all of this. A pretty puppy, rutting into his pillow and whining like a bitch in heat? You were spoiled. You must’ve been a saint in your past life to have earned the sight in front of you right now.
He’s so in his own world that, even when you close the door behind you and walk over to the bed, he doesn’t hear you. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth is open, and he’s whining as he pathetically ruts into his pillow below him. His hip movements are so uncontrolled, so unlike the usual Seungmin you know, and it sends a sick thrill running up your spine. A pretty tail swishes behind him with every thrust, a stark contrast against the white of the sheets and the pillow below it, and you want to reach out and give it a tug. You restrain yourself, content to just watch until he feels your eyes on him, but then the glint of something silver on the bed catches your eyes, and you reach out to grab it, watching Seungmin carefully as you do.
In your fingers you find a leather collar, black in color, a silver metal ring at the front that catches the light and makes it shine. You twirl it a few times, feeling it out, and find that it’s the perfect size to use to yank the wearer back. You give it a nice tug, and you find that it holds under pressure.
A louder whimper tears out of Seungmin’s throat, something more akin to a sob, and you turn your full attention back to him. His fingers are exploring the sheets blindly, searching, and you realize with glee that he’s searching for the little piece of leather that’s in your palm right now. His hand sweeps the sheets again, and you watch his eyebrows crinkle in frustration, tears streaking down his cheeks. And, well, you’re not mean. As you watch him crack his eyes open, you open your mouth to speak.
“Looking for this?” You coo, voice sugary sweet, and you watch a flurry of emotions sweep across his face.
Fear is the one you pick out first, and the most prominent one. There’s heat crawling up his cheeks that you can pin on embarrassment, but the genuine terror in his eyes makes you take a step back, dropping your facade for just a moment so he knows it’s okay.
“You know the color system and our nonverbal signals, jagi, if you don’t want to keep going,” you say firmly, looking right into his eyes, “I’m into this, okay? If it’s too sudden, we can step back and talk about it later. I can still help you get off, or I can leave the room and you can finish yourself off.”
You watch him juggle your words in his mind, watch his throat bob as he thinks about what he wants to do. He sits a little too long, though, and you can see the embarrassment start to dominate his features, so you cut in before he can try and take something away from himself that he wants.
“What’s your color, puppy?”
It’s a cruel trick, pulling out the name now. You know it is, know from the way that he keens high in his throat like he can’t help it that it’s mean, but you don’t care. You’re getting turned on now, too, heat curling in your gut as he gives you his biggest puppy eyes, you watch the way his hesitance fades away at the name. He’s still red, and still too far in his head for your liking, but you’ve got time to change it.
“I asked you a question, pretty,” you say, voice sharper than you mean it to be, “I expect an answer.”
He swallows big again, pressing his eyes closed like he doesn’t want to say it. He knows he doesn’t have to say it - knows he can use your signals instead if he really can’t get the words out - but he opens his mouth anyways.
“...g-green.”
It’s so quiet you barely hear it, but you can see it in the way that the blush spreads all the way down his chest, his tanned skin turning a patchy red under the intensity of your gaze. You sigh, reaching a hand out to cup his chin and make him look at you. He squirms at first, resisting, but your fingers press a little harder at his jaw, and he goes slack in your hold, allowing you to guide his face to look at yours.
“Good. If that ever changes, you let me know immediately. Understood?”
He nods as best he can in your bruising grip, and you shake your head.
“Words, puppy.”
“Yes, I understand.”
His voice is still quiet, tinged with nerves and what sounds almost like shame. You’re confident that the shame won’t be lasting much longer, not if you have anything to say about it. You nod once, satisfied, and then drop his face from your grip. He makes a confused sound, a little whine in the back of his throat, and immediately chokes it down, head tilting away from you again now that you’ve freed him from your hold.
You step back and strip yourself of your clothes quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting too long. The idea of him begging for your touch is certainly appealing, but you’re hoping this isn’t a one time deal, so (hopefully) there'll be plenty of chances for you to make him beg in the future.
“I have some rules for you, puppy,” you say, watching him with lidded eyes as you slowly slide your pants down, “Are you listening?”
He nods, and then opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.
“From here on out, you will not speak unless I’m asking for your color, because dumb puppies like you don’t speak, do they?” you interject, watching fresh heat spread across his face as his eyes widen a fraction, “And you will not come until I’ve allowed you to. And don’t touch that pathetic cock unless I give you permission, okay? That’s not yours to play with, it’s mine.”
He chokes out a whine and nods shakily, fists clenching and unclenching in the sheets. He’s still got his legs straddling the pillow below him, and you watch with glee as he tries to press his thighs together but can’t, the pillow keeping him from getting even a sliver of the friction he craves. He makes another tiny sound, and looks up at you with teary eyes, waiting.
“So pretty, jagi.” You say, and you can’t resist him, because you’re leaning forward to press your mouth to his.
It’s the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had with Seungmin, all teeth and tongue. He licks into your mouth eagerly when your lips part, and it’s like he’s never kissed anyone before, let alone you. His tongue pokes and prods at everything he can reach, swiping across your teeth and your lips like he doesn’t care where it ends up. You can feel the way that drool is escaping out of the corner of his lips, and you pull away to lick a stripe up his neck and chin, collecting his lost spit and kissing it back into his mouth.
You’re used to his deep groans and little sighs, so how loud he is already is a shock. Every brush of your hand, every tilt of your head makes him squeak and moan below you. You haven’t even touched him yet and he’s so worked up, and it has that familiar burn of arousal spreading through your veins faster than you’d like to admit.
You pull back to admire your handwork. Seungmin’s eyes are a little more unfocused now, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink, and there’s drool streaking a trail down his chin and neck. You’re unsure if it’s his, yours, or a mix of both, and you reach a hand forward to thumb at the corner of his mouth absentmindedly, cooing when his lips part instinctively. You slip your thumb into his mouth and watch him suck on it lazily, looking up at you through his lashes. Your other hand still holds the collar between it, and you bring it up into his line of sight.
“Can I collar you, puppy?” You ask, and watch him swallow nervously again, “We don’t have to, jagi. I just think you’d look so pretty with a collar around your neck. Next time, I want to get you a little tag with your name on it, so it’ll jingle every time you fuck your pathetic little cock into your pillow. But we can save the collar for next time, pup, and I won’t be mad.”
He makes a whiny sound, and, refusing to look you in the eye as he does, he lifts himself on shaky legs and spins himself around. He tilts his head backwards, eyes squeezed shut like he can’t fathom the idea of looking at you right now, and you groan, unable to hold back the sound.
“Fuck, puppy, you’re so good for me,” you coo, slipping the collar around the front of his neck carefully, “Stay just like that, there we go.”
You watch a shiver ripple up his spine as the cool metal of the ring presses against his throat, and you carefully adjust the size until it looks like it’ll fit just right. And with a quiet click!, you buckle the collar around his neck.
He goes lax under you immediately, body slumping back into your fully. You have to step forward and crowd more into his space to keep him from slipping off the bed, and soon, you’re the only thing keeping him upright. You watch his tongue loll out, and his eyes lazily blink open. He tilts his head a few times, pauses, does it again, and hums with satisfaction, eyes slipping closed again as a happy rumble comes out of his chest. You think it’s simultaneously the cutest and the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you feel the evidence of your own arousal drip down your thigh.
“Look so pretty in your collar for me, Minnie.”
He makes a distressed sound, shaking his head, eyes flying open and looking up at you pleadingly.
“No? Minnie doesn’t think he looks pretty?” You respond, tilting your head at him, unsure of what he’s whining about.
He makes another sound, mouth opening and closing uselessly. You realize it’s because he’s following your orders, and you speak up quickly, before this momentary distress turns into a real drop.
“You can speak if you need to right now, jagi,” you say, and that makes things worse, and he chokes on a sob as he even more frantically shakes his head, “Pretty, I need to know what’s wrong so I can help you.”
He just closes his eyes and shakes his head again, burying his face in your stomach. The position can’t be comfortable, and you press him off of you to look at him.
“Do you think you look pretty like this?” You ask again, careful this time.
He sniffles and nods only, a shy nod, but a nod nonetheless. He gives you a little smile when you reach forward to cup his face.
“Good, because I know you look pretty. My pretty Minnie-”
He cuts you off with a loud sound again, shaking your hand off of his cheek and pouting up at you again. You ponder for a moment, and then a lightbulb goes off in your head.
“Minnie?” He whimpers again, shaking his head, “Oh, I get it, I’m sorry it took me so long, pretty. You’re not Minnie right now, are you? You’re just my dumb puppy. Just a dumb mutt who doesn’t know how to think.”
He flushes at that, your words far more vulgar than he would’ve worded it, but he still nods eagerly, visibly relaxing now that you’ve figured out what he needed. Because he can’t be your Minnie right now. Minnie is dominant, a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind in bed that can press you into the sheets and make you cry. But he’s not Minnie right now - he’s just puppy, and puppy can’t do any of those things that Mininie can do. Puppy’s only good for humping and mating and taking.
“I’m going to sit myself up against the headboard, puppy, and I want you to keep your eyes on me,” you say, grabbing the discarded bottle of lube as you slip onto the bed, “And no touching.”
Your tone drops at the end, a warning, and he swallows, nodding hard, and his cute little ears flop up-down-up-down as he does, and it’s so cute you think you might explode. He shifts so that he’s kneeling between your legs, not touching, but closer than he needs to be. You let it slide, knowing that he’s eager right now, and pop the lube open, generously spreading it across some of your fingers.
You don’t tease your entrance like he would, don’t do any of that circling the rim bullshit he always does to make you whine, you just slip one of your fingers in with a soft sigh, melting back into the headboard as you finally get some of the relief you’ve been craving. You didn’t realize how turned on you were until you finally got the chance to get your hands on yourself, and the relief is dizzying. You slip in a second finger easily, body already anticipating what’s coming next, and you laugh lightly as Seungmin leans in, closer and closer, until you can feel his breath on your hand. He’s entranced by the way that your fingers are slipping in and out of yourself, panting with his mouth open wide, so close he’s practically looking at you cross-eyed.
But he’s good for you, so he doesn’t touch. He just hovers impossibly close, drooling all over the sheets messily. He doesn’t dare to look away from your entrance, watching as you slip in a third finger and curl them all just right, fingers barely brushing against that spot inside of you. Your fingers aren’t as long as his, and you almost regret not letting him touch, but watching him drool over you is worth pushing your pleasure a little further down the line.
Once you’re sufficiently stretched, you slip your fingers out of yourself with a squelch! It’s a nasty sound, and it makes both of you shiver. Seungmin drools a little more, like he can’t help himself. You offer your sticky fingers to him, covered in lube and your own essence, and his tongue darts out to lap it up.
It can't possibly be a pleasant taste, but he mouths at your fingers like it’s the best thing he’s ever had, whining petulantly as you slip your fingers out of his mouth. He tries to follow them, but you click your tongue at him, and he sinks back on his haunches, looking just like a scolded puppy. You just sigh, like you’re disappointed, and you watch with delight as he curls up further into himself, the sound going straight to his heart. If his puppy ears were real, they’d be drooping, and his tail would be pressed between his legs. He looks so small right now, and it makes your head spin.
You don’t say a word to him, not yet, just lazily stretch your arms and languidly shift your position. He moves to accommodate you, and soon he’s up near the headboard and you’re in the middle of the bed. You put yourself on all fours, arch your back and wiggling your hips at him just to hear the pathetic noise you know he’ll make. He gulps so loud you can audibly hear it, and he whimpers when you let your upper half press into the sheets, staring intently at your winking entrance, still wet with lube.
“Puppy?” You ask, and you feel him jolt behind you, movement vibrating through the mattress.
He makes a quiet sound, like he’s responding, and you shake your head.
“No, that’s not the sound that puppies make,” you say, lifting your head to peer back at him, “My good puppy knows better, doesn’t he? What sound do puppies make, silly boy?”
You watch him fight a war with himself as you stare at him, waiting patiently. He’s already slipped so far, mind mostly a puddle and only thinking dumb puppy thoughts. But there’s still a rational part of his brain there fighting and you can see it, a part of him that still believes that this is wrong and bad and embarrassing. You know this will be the last push for him to finally break, and you let your hips sway gently again, humming quietly when his hips buck up into the air at the sight.
“Puppy could be inside of me already,” you say with a dramatic sigh, and a weak spurt of precum dribbles down his cock, “But for some reason, my puppy doesn’t remember what sound he’s supposed to make. All you have to do is bark for me, puppy. And then you can hump me, just like you humped that pathetic little pillow of yours.”
It’s beautiful to watch the last shred of his will fray, because he really is so pretty when he’s falling apart. He’s flushed a ruddy color, his breath is laboured, his cock is twitching and nearly purple with need between his legs, and the tears that were pricking his eyes finally escape, the humiliation sinking in and making him go dumb.
“Mhm…” he starts, and then catches you watching him, and freezes.
You raise an eyebrow, like you’re waiting impatiently, and he swallows again, closing his eyes to gather himself.
“Muh…” He shakes, his cock twitches, and it comes out in one breath, “Mong mong.”
It’s barely there, a quiet little bark from behind you, but it’s enough. You can see the way that he’s completely lost the last bit of pride that was clouding his head, and you give him the biggest smile you can muster.
“Good boy,” you murmur, and he perks up, nodding, “Now puppy?”
He lets out a weak little bark again, and your grin stretches impossibly bigger.
“Breed.”
He’s on you in an instant, moving so fast that you have to dig your fingers into the sheets to keep yourself from sliding forward. His hands plant on either side of your head, and he bucks his hips forward, cock sliding against the curve of your ass. It catches your hole a few times, but his movements are too sharp, too desperate, and it won’t go in. He wails at that, and you feel the warmth of his tears on your back and on your neck as he leans down to nuzzle into it. His puppy teeth find the skin of your shoulder and he bites as he tries to get his cock inside of you, but it’s no use.
He’s so embarrassed he could die. Everything feels like molten lava, and you’re no help, just presenting yourself to him and expecting him to just hump you like a breeding dog. He wonders how dogs do this with no hands, and finds that he can’t even do it with no hands, and it makes him feel so small and pathetic and that he's leaking even more all over your ass.
“God, can’t even do the simplest things yourself, can you?” You huff, reaching a mean hand back to grab at his cock.
Your touch isn’t gentle, but it’s the first feeling of warmth he’s had on his cock all night, and it makes him impossibly dizzy. He ruts into your hand, pleasure exploding behind his eyes at finally having something over than a pillow touching his stupid cock. You aren’t trying to be nice about it, and that makes it feel even better. The idea that he’s such a dumb, gross mutt that you won’t even touch him properly, that you’re just using him as a toy to fuck you full, has him weak in the knees.
You give him another harsh squeeze, and he stills his hips unhappily. He wants to keep humping, wants to spill all over the perfect warmth of your hand, but a blurry part of his mind remembers that there’s something even better waiting for him if he’s patient. He gasps wetly as you line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, and he can’t help but buck into the warm heat radiating from you. His cock slips halfway in with one sloppy thrust, and you withdraw your hand to give him room to fuck into you.
He barely pulls out before his whole body craves your heat again, and he’s thrusting all the way into you. It punches a moan out of your chest, raw and carnal, and his teeth sink into the meat of your shoulder again, muffling the whine that tears out of his throat. You feel so good around him he barely remembers to breathe, hips speeding up into a sloppy, fast pace as his body chases more more more of the burning hot pleasure he’s feeling.
He feels so good inside of you, even with his uncoordinated movements. The lack of true pace might even be hotter, because he’s so out of control because of you. He’s falling apart and crying and mouthing at your shoulder because of you. You clench around him, the coil inside of you already winding tight, and he fucks into you impossibly harder at the feeling.
“G-guh-good puppy,” you heave out, the force with which he’s fucking you with knocking the air out of your lungs, “So fucking good. Gonna-hngh! Fuck, gonna fill me up good? G-gonna breed me full?”
He nods as he cries into your skin, your whole body shaking with the movement as he bucks his hips up into you harder. It feels incredible, and you know you’re going to come soon, so you reach a hand back blindly and grab.
“Fuck-hah, shit-fuck me like y-you mean it,” you hiss out, fingers looping through the metal at his neck and pulling, “Can’t even-mhmm-feel your pathetic cuh-cock when you just hump like a dumb dog.”
He shudders, and you feel the movement through your body, and you have to fight to choke down the sound that claws at your throat. You want him desperate, want him humping you like his life depends on it, fucking into you so hard and sloppy that his cock almost slips out with every thrust.
And you get your wish, because with renewed vigor, Seungmin’s bucking into you, teeth still marring your shoulder and fingers digging so deep into the sheets that you’d be worried they might tear if you were paying attention. But you can’t pay attention to anything other than the feeling of his cock inside of you, fat head bumping that spot inside of you over and over again until your orgasm is so close you can taste it.
“W-wanna come, pup?” you wheeze, and he nods against your shoulder, letting out a moan when you squeeze around him tighter.
“Bark for me ag-guh!-ain and you can fill me up, puppy.”
You barely get the sentence out before a weak chorus of mong mongs escape his lips, drool smearing across your skin as he babbles. The sound gets louder and louder, his hips moving faster and faster to chase that edge of pleasure he’s finally allowed to taste, and you come with a shout. As you come, you pull on the collar as hard as you can, and the feeling of the leather on his throat and your pulsing walls around him is enough to push Seungmin over the edge, too. Seungmin trembles above you as he spills his load into you as deep as he can, mong mongs fading into weak moans, until he can’t move his hips anymore, body too weak to do anything but shake above you.
“Good boy, knotting me full,” you say, though your face is now pressed into the sheets under the weight of him, and it comes out muffled, “My perfect puppy. So pretty for me, so perfect.”
You continue to whisper sweet nothings as he melts into your back, full body weight crushing you like a weighted blanket. The feeling is nice, and you almost don’t want to get up, but then your thighs start to feel sticky, a mess of your cum and Seungmin’s cum dripping out of your entrance streaking down your legs and making a mess. You leg also is starting to fall asleep, and you can’t exactly lug your boyfriend to the bathtub with a numb leg.
“Puppy, we need to get clean.” You say, and Seungmin makes a noncommittal sound into the skin of your neck.
“Puppy.”
He makes a sound that’s almost like a growl, and you respond with an exasperated noise of your own.
“Puppy. My leg is falling asleep, c’mon.”
“Ngh.”
It’s the only response you get, and you kick at him weakly. He shifts enough to free your leg, but then immediately settles back down on top of you, content to just lay like this seemingly forever.
“I wanna take a bath with my puppy,” you whine, trying to appeal to him so that you can unstick your thighs, “Wash his hair, cuddle with him in the tub, kiss him all over…”
Seungmin rolls off of you and lets you free, whining slightly when his cock slips out of you, and you roll yourself unceremoniously off the bed and onto your feet, smiling down at his dishevelled state.
You hadn’t really gotten a chance to see him yet, not since he had fucked his cock into you, and he looks a mess. The puppy ears are askew on his head, tilted at an angle that can’t possibly be comfortable, and his hair is stuck up in a flurry of different directions. There’s a line of drool that’s dried down his chin and part of his neck, and there’s little red marks from where you dug the collar into his neck that peek out over the black leather. A haze stays settled over his eyes, and you can tell from the way he seems to almost be looking through you that he’s still floaty, the high of his orgasm still running through his veins. He looks beautiful, and it makes you want to ravage him all over again.
And on another night, you would, but tonight, things still feel almost delicate. You don’t want to push the line further than you have already. So you just help him stand and wobble the two of you to the bathroom, guiding him to sit on the toilet lid as you start up the water.
Once the heat is satisfactory, you let the water run, turning back to your pretty boyfriend. He still seems dazed, watching you with the kind of blatant adoration that he rarely lets show on his face, even in tender moments like these. It makes you want to put him in a jar and keep him in your pocket forever, his expression so cute and open and so incredibly puppy-like that your heart squeezes in your chest.
You gently lift the puppy ears from his head, delicately placing them on the sink counter. You reach to unbuckle the collar, but he whines loudly, so you drift your fingers past it, letting him keep what he needs on until he comes down. The tail is an easier ordeal, Seungmin only whining at the loss of fullness as you carefully pull it out of him, but he doesn’t stop you. You grab a hand towel and wet it in the warm, running water, and then use it to carefully towel down Seungmin and yourself. No point in bathing if you’re just going to sit in your cum the whole time, so you have to make sure you’re at least a little clean getting into the water.
You help him into the water and stay out of it yourself at first, just carefully getting his hair wet so that you can wash it. Only once you’ve washed the shampoo out of his hair do you slip into the warm water behind him, settling your chin on his shoulder and rubbing little shapes into his hand until you can feel him coming back to himself.
His telltale signs are in the way he stiffens against you, in the way that his skin starts to feel a little warmer under yours, and in the way his fingers twist to loop through yours; a ground measure he takes sometimes to keep himself in the moment. It’s sweet that, even in his nervousness, he still seeks you out.
“Welcome back, jagi,” you murmur quietly, voice warm and open, pressing a kiss into the sensitive skin below his ear, “How are you feeling?”
“...good,” he says after a moment, then pauses a breath longer, uncertainty settling into his voice, “You’re not…mad? Or weirded out?”
“I’m only a little sad that you didn’t just tell me you wanted to try something new,” you say honestly, “You know I’m willing to try just about anything for you. Plus, you were really hot.”
He groans, squeezing your hand tighter in his grip. “Shut up.”
“Mhm, you don’t actually want me to do that,” you coo, reaching your free hand up to trace at the collar still decorating Seungmin’s neck, “Puppy loves me.”
“Stop!” he hisses, though it’s weak, and the two of you fall into easy laughter and he flushes a deeper red.
Later, when you’re curled up in your bed, Seungmin curled up on your chest and half-asleep already, a sudden curiosity strikes you.
“How did you come to the conclusion that you wanted to be a puppy?” You ask, and he pinches at your side.
“Jisungie-hyung and Minho-hyung are freaks.” He says, and you nod.
“Makes perfect sense.”
“...and I showed Channie-hyung a porn video while I was drunk off my ass.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” He said, like it was the most normal thing ever, and then curled further into your chest, “‘m tired. G’night.”
You don’t get to think about the implications of what he said before he’s snoring lightly against you, already asleep like he didn’t just say an absolutely insane thing to you like it’s completely normal. You make a mental note to hound him about it in the morning, but sleep is calling your name too, and you let yourself drift away, the weight of your perfect puppy boyfriend against you pulling you under. You’ll have plenty of time to harass your boyfriend later. Now, it’s time to fall asleep, and dream of puppies and love.
Bonus (From Seungmin's POV):
Links to Intro | Chan
I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3
I really wanna start a rant account bc I just have so much bs to say. But I don't wanna use an ai voice things coz like...FUCK AI. and text to voice lowk pisses me tf off for whatever reason. I would use my real voice but I fear it would be wayyyy too easy for people ik to figure out its me if they ever saw it. Especially since I always repost videos I secretly made on my personal account so I can still own it without any of the responsibility or judgement. And I can't exactly say 'omg this is so relatable' IF ITS MY FUCKING VOICE
cws: smut, choking, oral sex (f! receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, having sex while being on the phone, mlm elements, poly relationship, established throuple, threesome, use of petnames (kitten, baby, jagi) Lee Know being a dom for Reader AND Han, Han being a sub for Reader AND Lee Know, the full Minsung experience
word count: 3989
summary: Lee Know and you both know how to be mean to seduce Han, even in the most inconvenient moments
a/n: guys I’m sweating. This is my first time writing mlm in the skz fandom and I’m REALLY anxious.. I thought it would be the best idea to test the waters with a poly thing sooo yeah.. maybe I’m gonna write more ships if this goes fine. (Let me know in my ask box which you would want to see) Actually, thanks to @pineapple-burgah and her discord I’m thinking about writing a poly OT8 thing about the kissing line situation at the fanmeeting.. so please, leave a like, comment and reblog if you’re interested in that thehe~
It was silent in the apartment. The only sounds echoing from the walls were the wet smacking sounds of Minhos lips against yours and some hurried breaths when you parted for just seconds, gasping for the shared air before diving back into another kiss.
Your panties were gone, discarded somewhere on the floor an eternity ago.
Minhos mouth traveled along your jawline while he pressed you into the couch with his body, rolling his hips into yours. While you were already half naked, he still had his sweatpants on, the friction heavenly against your swollen clit.
“Min-“, you moaned when he sucked on the spot below your ear - the one he knew that was making you weak.
“Hm?”, he made unhurriedly.
He pulled the fabric of your oversized shirt down so he could kiss your collarbone. Your fingers threaded through his hair, dug into his scalp and shoulders.
“I want to join Jisung under the shower”, you gasped, his teeth grazing your skin.
He chuckled, his hand found your thigh to push your leg up some more, giving him more space to grind against you.
“Too late, kitten. I think he’s already done”, he mused, “You want him to fuck you instead today, huh?”.
You wanted to answer, but the door to the bathroom opened. Jisungs familiar scent hung heavily in the air, reaching you and engulfing both of you, making you want him even more.
“Gotta go”, he mumbled, not yet noticing in which position both his lovers were in right now.
You furrowed your eyebrows, Minho let out a frustrated grunt against your skin. Jisung didn’t even look at you while walking around the couch, his eyes locked with your underwear on the floor, though.
He froze in his movements, you could see his face flush even in a distance.
“Oh, I didnt want to disturb you”, he got out, avoiding to move his head in your direction as if he hadn’t seen you two like this before.
“You want to join us?”, you asked with a grin, Minho huffed, his tongue darting out for a second.
That was when the younger man decided to change his mind, meeting your gaze. You could clearly see that he really wanted to, he hesitated before sighing.
“I have to meet Changbin-ah and Channie in the studio”.
You tugged on Minhos hair to signal him to back you up, there was no way you would let Jisung go now. Not with your desire and lust pooling so low in your stomach. Not with that heat between your legs. Not with him looking so handsome when he was freshly showered.
His face was a bit flushed from the hot water, hair a bit curly and still damp. God, you wanted to ruin him. And Minho confirmed he had the same thoughts by looking at you with blown pupils after getting a glimpse of his boyfriend.
The older man retreated and got up, walking towards Jisung.
“I’m sure you have a few minutes to spare”.
“I’m already too late, actually”, Jisungs words almost got stuck in his throat while watching him.
Minho knew what he was doing, he was walking almost gracefully. Like a cat, ready to pounce his prey.
“So, there’s no need to hurry now, either way, right?”, his hands wrapped around the dark haireds waist, his voice dropping.
Jisung didn’t stand a chance, instinctively cowering, lips parting as if he wanted to answer something, but there were no words coming out. The scenery was hot, even for you, even though you couldn’t see Minhos gaze. But the way Jisung responded to it was enough to make your heart clench with desire.
“I don’t know, I probably should-“, he was cut off by Minho, his face getting closer, his nose nuzzled behind his ear.
You stood up as well, standing on Jisungs other side.
“Yeah, you should probably stay”, you twisted his words with a grin.
His brain was already empty, although the both of you hadn’t really touched him yet. He was so sensitive, so reactive to almost everything you did, it was a bit pathetic.
“Yeah, I should- no I have to, Chan-ah would be mad”, he shook his head, but made no effort to end this, not even when you grabbed his useless hand and shoved it to your core.
He was cupping your bare pussy like this, a whimper escaped his open mouth.
“This is not fair”, he whined, “I- hah, please”.
His words weren’t matching his actions, his head moved to the side so Minho could kiss his neck, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit immediately. Additionally, he was the first one of you to move to the couch, encouraged some more when both of you pulled him with you.
The couch was actually pretty big, three people fitting onto it comfortably, which was very convenient in a lot of situations. Like right now, Jisung laying flat on his back, Minho on his side and you crouching on top of him. Your fingers were on his waistband, pulling down and helping him out of his pants and underwear. His hips almost rutted into the air, chasing your touch so needily, but you didn’t pay him the desired attention.
“You’re so mean”, he pouted.
“We’re not doing anything you wouldn’t want”, you chuckled, fingers tracing the v-line under the hiked up hem of his shirt, “Just tell me and I’ll stop”.
Before your fingers could reach his half hard dick, you moved back up again.
“No- don’t stop, please”, his eyes squeezed shut, but Minho grabbed his jaw and angled his face to look up at him.
“Eyes on me, Jagi”.
Jisung melted, he always did when Minho called him that. He visibly relaxed, slumping into the cushions before his muscles flexed again when you bunched up his shirt to caress him there some more.
“You’re so beautiful, Ji. You’d let me ride those abs, please?”, you leaned forward, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his stomach.
“Yes! Yes, anything you want”.
Minho’s eyes flickered to you for a second, you wish you could press your thighs together in this position, you were already dripping just from the anticipation.
“Oh, really? You’d let her ride your cock, too? Use your body?”, the older cooed.
Jisung arched his back at his words, nodding so fast. It was endearing how quickly he folded to both of his partners, his previous plans already forgotten.
“Oh god- yes! Please please please”.
You grinned so fondly at him, his submissive side was always something you loved and adored so much. And how could you deny him something when he was begging for it so prettily?
He was hard by now, just from your touches and words. He was so down bad, it was kinda funny.
You positioned yourself on top of him, taking his dick into one hand to guide him to your entrance. Jisung wanted to hold you, hands reaching for your hips, but Minho was quick to catch his wrists, restraining him with just one hand and pulling them over his head.
You sank down on him, slowly, torturously slowly. Minhos lips on Jisungs probably should have muffled his moans, but he seemed to get even louder, even more desperate as soon as they kissed.
When he bottomed out, Jisungs phone on the table right next to you lit up, vibrating for a second to signal he had received a message. But neither of you was caring enough, none of the men separated for even a second, they even deepened the kiss.
Jisung whined into Minhos mouth when you rocked your hips, rolling your body forward.
You grinned, letting your head fall back. The praise made your body feel so warm, you were drunk on it, incredibly spurred on.
With his boyfriends’ face still in his hands, Minho watched you getting off, bouncing on another man’s dick but staring at you in awe like you were the most precious thing on earth.
“Don’t be jealous”, you breathed, “You can have it whenever you want”.
The grin on his lips almost scared you.
“I’m glad you’re saying that”, he changed his position, scooting away and turning to Jisung, “Up, against the backrest”.
Jisung was completely gone, pretty head not being able to think right now. He moved as if he was in trance, hypnotized by your hips and his words, holding you as he really sat up and moved back and leaned against the couch.
He reached deeper in this position, both of you gasped.
You raised your hands to push his damp hair out of his face. He was breathing heavily, slightly thrusting upwards. You didn’t really move, both of you just moving against each other so his dick would drag through your walls just slightly.
Minho was behind you, kneeling above Jisungs legs and pulling you against his chest.
“Can I join you?”, he asked, his lips grazing your neck.
“Join?”.
Your pussy clenched at the thought to be honest, but it also made your breath hitch.
“Hmm”, he hummed, “You told me I could have that pussy anytime I want. And I want it now”.
Your walls clenched again, Jisung whined.
“Stop- gripping me like that-“.
“You two seem to have such a good time, I wanna join”, Minhos hands came around you, sneaking between your legs where Jisungs dick split you open to massage your clit for a moment, “I know you can take both of us”.
He pulled his sweatpants down enough so you could feel his erection pressing against your ass. With a growl, he wrapped a hand around the base and tried to push in right next to Jisung. It was a tight fit and you gritted your teeth with just the tip in.
“Hahhh- fuck- wait”, you gasped, instinctively moving away from him, but he wrapped a hand around your throat to pull you back against him.
“Ohhh- Min, please, it’s- so tight”, Jisung squirmed underneath you, throwing his head back and hitting the wall, there was a hand on his windpipe too.
“Yeah, would you two just shut up a second”, Minho moaned low, “Gonna cum when you keep whining like that”.
You stayed like that for a second, both of his hands keeping both of you in place while he needed to take a breath before continuing to push in. All three of you moaned in unison, his grip tightening.
“I said shut up”.
But it was so hard to, you bit down so hard on your lower lip to muffle your cries, because there was no way you could keep quiet like that. The stretch was intense and to be honest, him choking you did nothing to help you.
You had a hard time accommodating to both of them being inside you, your body tensing up.
“Easy, kitten. Breathe with me”, Minho whispered, kissing the spot right next to your ear, “You can take it, right? I know you can”.
There was the soft side of him coming out. Minho actually was a very sweet person, he just liked to be in charge, but he knew how to calm someone down at the right time. His grip around your throat loosened a bit, while the one at Jisung seemed to get tighter.
“Always taking us so well”, he continued, rocking his hips forward gently, glancing at his boyfriend, “Right, baby? Tell her what a good girl she is”.
God, Jisungs eyes were so full of devotion. He looked at you like he never wanted to forget the scene right in front of him. Like he wanted to imprint that moment on his brain.
“Soo good- I.. haahh-“.
“See?”, Minho grinned, pushing in the last few inches, “You already fucked him dumb”.
The heat crawled up at you, you were sweating. You felt so full, so wrecked, but so good at the same time. Your walls couldn’t stop spasming around them and it was driving Jisung insane.
“Can I- oh god”.
“You gonna let him cum, kitten? Or should he wait?”, Minho bit your neck and you gasped.
Jisungs phone vibrated on the table again. Two times.
“No, please- I need to- please”, his hands that had previously been digging into the cushions beside him flew to your waist.
His begging made your cravings worse, you really had to breathe slowly and concentrate so you wouldn’t reach your orgasm too early. But the adrenaline in your veins and the tug in your stomach told you how close you were.
“He had been a very good boy”, you mused and cupped his face, he melted into your touch, “But we want to keep him here as long as possible, right? So he has to wait”.
Minho chuckled, finally starting to move. He tested the waters, his thrusts were shallow and slow at first, but still felt so incredibly good. While Jisung was so deep inside - you swore you could feel the tip touch your cervix - Minhos dick was nudging into your g-spot with every roll of his hips.
And it didn’t just affect you, Jisungs eyes rolled back into his skull when he picked up his pace and encouraged you to move as well. You were deaf to everything else except the sounds of it all. Breathy moans, whimpers and the wet squelch of your pussy. You almost missed the vibration on the table that now seemed to be a phonecall.
“Stop- I’m gonna-“, Jisung squeezed your waist in a bruising grip, definitely leaving marks there but he didn’t even noticed, “Stop, please stop, hahh-“.
But his partners didn’t even think about that, his hands were still urging, not stopping you. He could’ve if he wanted, but all he did was moan out in pleasure, whole body shaking.
Then you felt it, their cocks rubbing against each other in such a tight fit with your walls pulsating around them sent him over the edge. He twitched inside of you, filling you up and even thrusted upward as much as he could in this position so his cum would reach the deepest crevices of you.
“Did you just-?”, Minho growled, Jisungs eyes flew open when the hand around his throat vanished.
“I’m sorry, I just- it felt so good and I-“ he was silenced by two of Minhos fingers shoved into his mouth.
The older man didn’t stop with his thrusts, fucking his boyfriends cum into you.
“Suck on them, baby. And you better be thoroughly, it’s the only preparation you get”, his voice was flat, dark and it made Jisung crumble some more, “You have time until I cum”.
You gasped at it, kinda jealous of both of them. The thought of either having Minhos fingers in your mouth or your fingers in Jisungs mouth made you gasp and mewl immediately.
“Oh, kitten, you aren’t fair to Jisung, you’re gonna make me finish soon when you whine so prettily”.
His rhythm was merciless, relentless, he was chasing his release now without hesitation or restraint. The man underneath you squirmed in overstimulation, still being inside of you as well. Minho groaned into your neck, open mouthed kisses tracing along the hem of the shirt you were wearing, you felt his tongue against your skin before he bit down into the fabric for leverage. Jisungs mouth closed around his fingers, tongue swiping along them, trying his best to be good after literally fucking up and ignoring orders.
You let your head fall back, feeling so deliciously full when Minho came as well. His thrusts didn’t falter, quite the opposite, they got more brutal, quicker, harder. The growl behind you was so feral, so guttural and it only subsided when his movements stopped.
“You did so good, kitten”, he purred now, nose nuzzling against you.
“I didn’t even get to finish”, you pouted.
He pulled out with a sigh, pulling you with him and prepping you onto the couch on your back.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jisung is gonna help you with that”.
Jisung on the other hand didn’t even have enough time to react to anything that happened in that moment, he was being manhandled into positioning himself on his knees and hands right in front of you.
His eyes locked with your core since you had your legs spread, following the cum oozing out of your pussy and dripping down onto the cushions.
Minho was behind him, hands momentarily squeezing his hips.
“What are you- oh god”, Jisungs head fell forward as his boyfriends’ wet fingers pushed against the rim of his hole, “Wait- shit! Fuck-“.
“Watch your mouth, baby”, Minho cooed, eyes locking with yours, “Keep it occupied, yeah?”.
With a grin, you bunched up your shirt some more, gaining Jisungs attention again with the movement. His mouth hung open, muttered swears and breathed whimpers still falling out of it.
“You gonna take care of me, Ji?”.
He nodded, not being able to answer anything, but he wrapped his hands around your thighs and kissed the spot right above your clit. He was so eager, so far gone, you didn’t know why he was moaning now. Maybe because of your taste, maybe because of Minhos fingers hitting his prostate - maybe a combination of both.
His tongue flicked against the bundle of nerves, massaging it so messily, you involuntarily arched your back and tangled your fingers into his hair. His eyes fluttered close, the vibrations of his moans sending electric shocks through you. But it wasn’t enough, you needed more. Now.
“Min- Min, please fuck him”, you gasped, these words making Jisung just moan a bit louder.
There was still cum pooling underneath you, coming out in gushes as your pussy pathetically clenched around nothing but the dark haired seemed to get off because of it a bit more. He dived in, tongue squeezing into your entrance, his nose bumping into your clit by how clumsy and hurried he was.
“As you wish, kitten”.
And damn, you wish you could hear those broken sobs of Jisung when Minho pushed his hardened dick in every second of the day. It was heavenly, he held onto you for dear life, arms trembling even more than your legs.
“You feel so good, baby. Fuck- and you really wanted to go to work, tsk”.
Jisung just hummed in satisfaction, probably not even remembering anymore how this started. But he would be reminded soon, his stupid phone on the table vibrating again.
“Ah, that’s Chan-hyung”, Minho grinned, a hint of malice in there, “You want me to pick up? You seem to be kinda busy right now”.
Jisung wanted to respond something, but had a really hard time separating from your swollen clit, latching on it like a starved man, especially with the way you gripped his hair but protesting with some groans.
Minho was too quick to reach for it either way, answering the phone call and putting him on speaker.
“Hey, Chan-hyung”.
He was mean with it, thrusting forward slowly, pulling a long and loud whine out of his boyfriend. His own voice was hoarse, but not that suspicious.
“Did Han-ah forget his phone or didn’t he even leave yet?”.
Chris sounded on edge, you knew he was pissed just because of his tone, but Minho grinned, gasping breathlessly when bottoming out.
“He’s at home”, he said.
Jisungs mouth was gone, he grunted, turning his head slightly to glance back.
“Tell- haahhh fuck- tell him I’m coming”.
Minho chuckled, patting his hips and grinding into him. Jisung let his head fall forward at that, his cries muffled with his teeth in your thigh. You caressed his head, scratching his scalp gently, but soon tugged him to guide his head back between your legs.
“Sure you are, baby”, Minho hummed, speaking louder again for Chris again, “He’s kinda distracted”.
Chris sighed audibly, it sounded really annoyed.
“Can I talk to him?”.
Minho snapped his hips forward and Jisung had to close his mouth around your clit to shut himself up. You jolted, the back of your hand pressed onto your mouth. The blond shook his head, signaling you to take it down again.
“Oh, Hannie can’t talk right now”, another thrust, and another and Jisung almost bit down, “He’s- ahh fuck- he’s occupied”.
Minho couldn’t hold it any longer, the younger man pressing his hips back to meet him now. He gripped his waist with one hand - almost letting the phone slip. This situation shifted completely, your orgasm was in arms reach all of the sudden while Jisung was basically making out with your cunt now. He swallowed the combined juices, moaning into you and licking over your clit with a flat tongue.
You didn’t even care anymore that Chris could hear you.
“Min- fuck him harder”.
Minho muttered something you couldn’t understand under his breath, phone thrown onto the couch to grab Jisungs waist properly.
“She’s there, too? Fuck, give me a warning or something”.
None of you answered, you came on Jisungs tongue with a choked moan, trapping his head in between your thighs. He didn’t stop because of this, hands prying your legs open and fucking you through that orgasm with his tongue, being pushed into your pussy with every thrust of Minhos hips.
It was messy, the sounds were so sinful and you were pretty sure Chris would be traumatized after this.
Minhos rhythm was faltering as he threw his head back, his moan turning into a growl while squeezing Jisungs waist with his hands. His face scrunched up when he came too, making his boyfriend writhe in pleasure at the feeling of being filled with his hot cum.
“Would you- fucking look at that”, Minho hummed when Jisung began to move on his own, his ass meeting Minhos pelvis over and over again, “Such a slut for me, fucking yourself on my cock? Wanna cum again?”.
The dark haired was still slurping on your combined juices, sucking on your swollen clit even though you were trying to pry him off at his hair. He didn’t budge, his eyes closed in pure bliss while eating you out, but it was too much for you. His mouth so hot on your skin, his drool making the sensation even worse because you felt so throughly wet. He marked you, sucking on your clit, your folds, even diving into your entrance, shoving his tongue in as deep as he could reach.
“Min-“, you whined, silently begging your other boyfriend for help.
Minho growled, leaning forward and gripping a fistful of Jisungs hair at the back of his head to yank him back roughly. Jisung gasped and hissed at the pain of it, but you could finally catch a break.
Spit and cum was running down his wet chin, his back arched and his eyes so far far gone.
His pupils were blown, so dark and big you couldn’t see any other color as he stared into the nothingness. They rolled back for the probably fiftieth time this evening while he also reached his peak, spilling onto the cushions with a heavy sigh.
It was silent for a moment, only your breaths filling the living room now.
Minho pulled out slowly, rubbing gentle circles into Jisungs hips as he let go of him.
“You okay?”, he asked, eyes switching between both of you.
The dark haired whimpered quietly, searching comfort in your arms, but holding an arm out for Minho to join him collapsing on your chest. The older man smiled at that, pressing a kiss to your lips first and Jisungs after that. Both snuggled up on you, your hands in their hair on each side.
“Fuck- Chan-hyung is gonna kill us”, Jisung mumbled.
“Nah, just you. Get in the shower and come here immediately”, you heard him saying on the other side of the phone.
summary: headcanons about cheating on your boyfriend with hyunjin.
wc: 600
cw: toxic relationship, suggestive/smut, strong language, cheating themes MDNI
a/n: ok i needed to write something cause i felt like writing but i have no energy so i'm sorry LOL
hyunjin who fell in love with you from the first moment he saw you
hyunjin who actually cried when he found out you had a boyfriend (he insists he didn't drink that much)
hyunjin who got close with you despite you having a boyfriend.
hyunjin who had to convince his friends it wasn't like that. yes he had a crush on you when you first met but he's respecting boundaries. he would never cross that line.
hyunjin who tried to be friendly with your boyfriend.
hyunjin who had to restrain himself from speaking poorly about him.
hyunjin who didn't hesitate to let you in when you show up at his door crying one night after you had a fight with your boyfriend.
hyunjin who held you all night.
you hadn't realised how much you craved affection – how much you were deprived of it until hyunjin couldn't keep his hands off you.
hyunjin who swore to you he'd always be there for you. for anything.
hyunjin who found it very hard to stay away from you after you confessed all the shit your boyfriend did and said to you.
hyunjin who tries, so hard, to get you to break up with him.
hyunjin who doesn't fully understand why you can't.
hyunjin, who you invited to a family dinner. he saw the way your boyfriend managed to have everyone wrapped around his finger, how he managed to be someone he wasn't.
hyunjin who finally understood.
hyunjin who can't stand the thought that anyone would waste your time. the thought that someone wouldn't go above and beyond for your happiness and pleasure was a foreign concept to him.
hyunjin who invited you over way more.
you, who always went.
hyunjin who sat a little closer, touched a little longer, breathed a little heavier.
hyunjin who managed to get you under him soon enough.
hyunjin who was so fucking gone since then.
hyunjin, whose pride skyrocketed everytime you would show up to his house after your boyfriend left you hanging yet again.
hyunjin who never let himself finish before you did.
hyunjin: the munch.
hyunjin who liked to push your limits. touching you around him, whispering in your ear when he wasn't watching. he liked to watch your skin crawl when he did it, he drank in the way you would shiver when he whispered vulgar things into your ear.
hyunjin who, more than once, had you in the bar bathroom, or the practice room, or his car.
hyunjin who, after every hookup, who ask you to break up with him
hyunjin couldn't even blame you anymore. he'd rather have one part of you than no part.
hyunjin who watched from inside the restaurant as you scream at your boyfriend just outside, fists clenching under the table.
hyunjin who was up in an instant the second he stepped closer to you.
hyunjin who had him pinned against the concrete in record time.
hyunjin who, drove you home in silence that night.
hyunjin who had you perched on the couch, hands running up your thighs and eyes full of tears.
hyunjin was literally crying, tears soaking into your skin, voice pathetic and begging you to break up with him. promise after promise falling from his lips, confessing he had loved you from the first time he saw you.
hyunjin who watched you call him, heard you say the words, and pinned you to his mattress right after.
hyunjin who never changes. he still can't finish until you do, he still buys you flowers and snacks and stops at nothing to make sure you're happy.
the only thing that changes is now hyunjin is insufferable. he shows you off every chance he gets. he's clingy and affectionate and like a big puppy dog that follows you around.
hyunjin, the boy who taught you what real love looks like.
· new relationship | bf!hyunjin x afab!reader
· wc - 3.3k
· cw - wet dream, dry humping. mentions of oral (f. rec), unprotected piv, fingering (briefly).
· a/n - i wasn't originally going to post smut for hyun's bday, but then i took a nap and woke up with this idea, and then proceeded to write for 5 straight hours into the night before i inevitably forgot everything. and also, Lover exists now and has been stuck in my head. so here we are. thnx for reading :)
· dividers - @uzmacchiato
“I want you, too.” He whispers, more vulnerable than he expected but every bit as passionate. “I want you so bad.”
You've always been a light sleeper. Creaky doors, slight movements, a barely audible noise from the room next door, they seldom go unnoticed. Even if it's just a slight stir, one eye opening before returning to sleep, you have to at least take a peek before being whisked away back into a state of rest.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Sleeps like a sack of bricks. He barely moves, but when he does it's always to shift into a totally different position before sinking deeper into the springs of the mattress. He doesn't snore, not loudly anyway. You're thankful for that.
The moment you discovered this about him, you thought it was endearing. Booping his nose in his sleep and watching his brow twitch softly, tracing his jawline with your fingers gliding across his skin. You weren't ever opposed to sleeping next to him whenever he invited you over, and today is no different.
One leg slung over his hips, the side of his face buried in the pillow with a soft breath that pulls in a quiet snore. His couch is perfect for afternoon naps. The sunlight barely peeks through the blinds in warm stripes that paint the hardwood floors. It's quiet, but you stir.
He's moving, you notice it after a moment and shift to accommodate his new position. But he doesn't shift with you. You feel his hips under your leg, assuming he's trying to find a comfortable spot. After a few seconds, he stops. Pauses for a breath or two, and starts again.
There's a deep breath, then a breathy groan that would go unnoticed if you were anyone else. His arms that help cradle his head with his pillow squeeze it tighter, eyebrows tense as his hips buck into the couch just gently enough to elicit a soft sigh.
You blink through your sleepy haze wondering what he's trying to do, initially a mixture of confusion and concern. And maybe a touch of annoyance at being woken up from such a peaceful nap. You shift again, this time making space between you and him. His cheek is squished against the pillow with no signs of consciousness or awareness of his movements.
His hips settle briefly before continuing to meet the couch cushions with a more intentional buck, grinding slowly with a light moan.
Your eyes grow wider at the sound, his restlessness alluding clearly to what he's dreaming of. The two of you have been together for a little over three months, you've kissed and touched but nothing as intimate as his dream suggests.
You rest a hand on his shoulder and shake him gently, “Hyun…”
But you know better than to think that's going to do anything.
Your hand abandons his shoulder in pursuit of his face, fingertips tapping the meridian points with gentle pressure. “Hyunjin,”
He blinks in time with your tapping, groaning with a different kind of arousal as he's slowly pulled out of rem sleep. His hips pause, finally shifting to reposition slightly.
“Awake?” You murmur.
“Hmm,” It's a grumble at best. He squints, then gives up and closes his eyes again. His arms hug his pillow tighter, snuggling his cheek into the smooth pillowcase and reluctantly waking up.
Now that he's up, you aren't sure what to say. Your eyes scan his sleep stained face, how he's still only half here and could drift off again at any moment.
“You okay?” You settle for this, since anything is better than silence.
He nods, “M’fine. You?” He's being polite despite not being fully conscious.
Your teeth fidget with your bottom lip, “I'm okay. You… comfortable?”
He thinks about his answer while yawning, lifting a hand to scratch the top of his head. “Mm, slept heavy.”
You grin. A short exhale of a laugh blows out your nose. “Mhm.”
He starts to turn onto his side to face you, but something weighs him down. Not your thigh over his hips, but rather what's pressed into the couch that seems to have woken up before him. He plays it off by stretching, but he's definitely more awake now. Mentally questioning if he did something in his sleep, or said something that could've made you uncomfortable. Just that quickly, he's pacing in his mind.
You don't say anything about it, but you notice. Of course you do.
“What time is it?” He's trying to distract himself from the impending embarrassment.
You look over at the window instead of the clock, not concerned about the exact time, but rather how high the sun is. There's a warm glow cascading across his living room.
“Evening, sun's setting. Maybe around seven.” You turn back to face him and notice his face hidden in his pillow. “Wanna go back to sleep?”
“Mm mm,” he shakes his head, “I'm up.”
You watch him for a moment, bringing a hand to rest in the center of his back. The simple touch is enough to send chills spiking along his skin, covering his whole body gradually and causing his hips to tilt before stilling immediately. You know he knows now.
“How do you feel?” You ask, trying to coax it out of him. It's pretty obvious that he's trying to hide his erection from whatever vivid wet dream he just had, so he may as well just say it.
“M’fine.” He mumbles, then clears his throat and repeats himself more clearly with another shift in his hips. “I feel fine.”
You rub his back and inch closer to his hidden face, “You're hidin’. Come back to me, love.”
He groans again, frustrated with his persistent arousal at the simplest things. Your touch, your tone, your breath fanning across the side of his face as you lean in closer. He peeks out halfway, one eye open and looking at you.
“All the way, Hyun.”
“I'm right here.”
“C'mere.” You're amused by his shyness, patting his back to encourage him.
“Hm?”
“C'mon.”
“Mmm, babe.” He's hoping if he's stubborn, he can hold onto pride a bit longer.
“What's the matter?” You coo, finding it cute how he's hanging on by a thread despite literally shivering from your touch just a second ago.
He hides his face in the pillow again, voice muffled. “I just woke up.”
“Mhm?” You insist that he continues, resting your head comfortably against the soft pillow and continuing your ministrations on his back.
He pauses, exhales and gives in. Clearly nervous, he asks, “I didn't… do anything weird, did I?”
Your eyes soften, the initial emotions now boiled down into a wide grin. He's somehow turned what could've been an uncomfortable situation into another endearing trait.
“Weird, no.” You answer honestly. It's not weird, but it was surprising.
He turns his head after a few beats of silence, slowly panning over to your face and seeing the grin you try to contain.
“Mm…” he starts, “I'm hard.”
His straightforward admission makes you giggle, “Yeah?”
“I had one of those dreams… I haven't had one in a long time.”
You shouldn't find his bashful confession as attractive as you do, but your eyebrow raises as he speaks.
He asks again, “I did something weird, didn't I?”
“You didn't do anything weird, Hyun.” You reassure him, arm snaking around and pulling him closer by his side.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing weird, no.”
“But something else?” He investigates.
“Relax, love.” You chuckle at his persistence.
“I don't– ugh…” he starts to surrender, but insists again. “I don't wanna make you uncomfortable.”
Your smile fades into a shadow of a grin, fingers tracing the curve of his side. “You didn't make me uncomfortable.”
He looks between both of your eyes with his puffy ones still clouded with drowsiness, trying to gauge the honesty in your statement. “You mean it?”
“Swear.” You murmur.
“Promise?” His gravelly voice begs with sincerity, vulnerable eyes to match.
“Promise.” And your tone matches his. “Stop hiding from me, it's fine.”
He takes a while to convince himself that you're being honest before shifting on his side to face you more directly. His hand meets your waist and pulls you closer hesitantly, hyper aware of his hard length brushing against your thigh. The bulge in his sweats outlines the imprint clearly, loud and proud and warm against you.
He glances down, cheeks heating up with a faint blush that travels to his ears and neck. He doesn't want to reposition himself because touching it will make it worse, so he tries to ignore it.
He's hoping you do, too. “Just… it'll go away.”
“It doesn't have to.” You shake your head, settling next to him with your leg still hiked over his hips. “Not botherin’ anyone.”
He appreciates you not teasing him about it like he expected you to, but he's still self-conscious. He hasn't shown this side of himself to you yet, how much he's attracted to you, how much you affect him. He imagined how it would go when he finally did decide to and this isn't it.
“You're too easy-going.” He mumbles, conflicted with himself.
You scoff under your breath. “And you worry too much.”
Your knees slot between his, your thigh pressing against his clothed erection while you reposition, unfazed by its presence. The head of his hard cock brushes against the fabric containing it and makes his hips stutter, a hum erupting from his throat that could've been a moan if he didn't suppress it.
“Careful.” He warns, as if it'll come out and bite you.
You smirk, “You want me to move?”
“Don't move, just be careful.”
“Be careful of what?” You shift your hips purposely, inching closer until you feel the head of him poking against the plush of your thigh again. You watch his expression quickly for a reaction and you aren't disappointed.
His brow softens, then quickly tenses at the pressure of your deliberate teasing.
“Careful of what, hm?” You ask again, your own core warm against his thigh as your legs are perfectly interwoven with his.
“Careful…” He manages with eyes growing more and more hooded by the second. You continue to grind teasingly slow against him, curious to see how easily he'll give in.
“Is this what you dreamt about?” Your voice drops into a proper teasing tone, smooth and easy to listen to as you rip his resolve to pieces.
“Hm… mhm.” He nods slowly, licks his lips and shuts his eyes gently.
“Mhm, just relax.” Your hand cradles his jaw as he melts into you. “Don't be shy. You don't ever need to hide from me.”
“You're not gonna judge me?” He asks, hips bucking into your thigh in a subtle motion.
“Never. I want you in every way, wanna experience all of you.” You whisper earnestly, “You're mine to experience.”
Hyunjin can feel his heartbeat starting to pick up, all the images in his head that lingered from the dream flashing back and weakening his protest even further.
“I want you, too.” He whispers, more vulnerable than he expected but every bit as passionate. “I want you so bad.”
“Move with me.” Your hand reaches down for his hips, gently guiding them to roll against your thigh and grind his clothed cock against you. You feel it twitch in his sweats and you clench around nothing in response, your cunt pressed to his thigh just as firmly.
He looks down between you two, watching as you grind against him with a soft gaze. Your hips move with so much confidence that he feels inspired to mimic them, so he does.
He moves with caution at first, then one firm and fluid motion makes his cock pulse with need.
“Like that?” He whispers, glancing up at you.
“Like that. More of that.” You nod, positioning your legs to fit even more seamlessly with his. His cock is trapped between the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and your core is starting to ache with need, too.
Hyunjin takes your words of encouragement and grinds more freely, embarrassment replaced with a lust and longing that he refuses to let hold him back. Even if it's just this, he won't hide how much he wants you. Not when you ask him so sweetly not to.
There's a palpable tension that starts to grow between you two, like a ball of energy building up and engulfing the both of you completely. Hunger, shameless pleasure, a loss of pride. Hyunjin humps your thigh at a steady pace and grunts softly, and you hump his with a deep exhale. You lift your leg a bit higher, hooked around his waist with hips tilted to maximize the pressure over your clit.
His hand slides from your waist to your leg and keeps you put, fingers hooked under your knee and gripping just hard enough to make small indents in your skin.
“So pretty when you let go… makes me wanna let go, too.” He whispers, eyes flicking between your face and your body as he unravels further into the moment.
His pace quickens a bit, the slow drag of his hips turning into something more urgent and intentional. He's chasing the pleasure now, the length of his cock brushing against your thigh with purpose.
Your breathing is heavier, hips picking up to sync with his pace now. The shifting of fabric and soft pants fill your ears, his strong hand keeping your leg in place while you fight the urge to reach down and circle your clit with your fingers instead. You want to stay with him like this, want to see how this moment builds up.
You moan, a little whiny as you fight yourself and grind your hot cunt into him harder.
Hyunjin watches your brow knit with need and grips your leg tighter, “You can do it. As hard as you need to.” He encourages you, pulling you closer, “Use me the way you need to, princess.”
You feel your walls tighten and wish he was inside of you, but you don't want to go too fast. Whether you'd like to admit it or not, humping his thigh with your throbbing cunt soaking against him like this was more fun than you could've imagined. Especially with his cock twitching against you, the bulge in his sweats grinding incessantly and drawing out the same groans from earlier, from when this was merely a dream to him.
This time, you're the one who picks up speed, your greedy clit begging for more friction. He doesn't stop you, his hand slips down to your ass and holds you firmly, helping you move.
“Greedy little thing… bet you'd be so tight around me.” He whispers, looking down at your face. “So wet and hot for me. We'd fit together so perfectly, baby. I fucking know it…”
“So perfect.” You agree with a moan, locking eyes with him.
“So fuckin’ beautiful.” He presses his forehead to yours, hips meeting yours with a growing desperation to hit his peak. “You'd be so beautiful. On your back, or your stomach… making those pretty little sounds while I stretch you out and fill you up so fucking good.”
Just the image itself makes you moan, the mental picture his words are painting only fuel you to keep grinding, distracting your needy clit with the warmth of his thigh.
Hyunjin feels himself starting to get close and continues on, recalling the fantasy from his dream proudly now. “Bet you'd be so sweet on my tongue, too. Worshipping that pretty pussy with my mouth and getting you right to the edge over and over… then I could, mm… then I could fill you up again and watch you come on my cock.” He starts to hump your thigh with increased pressure, angling his hips up to brush his aching, leaky tip against you with each thrust.
“Hyun,” You breathe and tighten your jaw, wanting it so bad. All of it. You'd stop and get it if you weren't already hanging off the edge, but you can just imagine it. Him going down on you like a man starved, lapping and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit, cheeks hollowed as he sucks you, fingers rubbing your walls, curling to hit that spot as you struggle to keep your legs open. Him humming around your clit, moaning while he edges you. Him climbing back up your body, peppering sweet kisses across your shoulder while he fucks you deep and makes you squeeze around his thick cock.
He watches you as your imagination runs wild, straining to contain himself a bit longer. “Fuck, I want you…” He groans roughly, almost a growl. “I'm so fuckin' close.”
“Do it.” You shut your eyes and chase your orgasm with precision, focused solely on the edge you're pushing yourself off of.
“Get there. With me.” He watches you go after your pleasure and admires you, talking you through it. “You're right there, I know you are. So hot against me, I can feel it. So wet. Give it to me, be a good girl and come for Hyunie.”
You feel a rush of heat tickle your skin and shut your eyes tighter, hips grinding unevenly now. He guides you to keep going with his hand planted on your ass, pulling you in and helping you stay focused.
“Uh huh, keep going. Just like that. My sweet girl deserves to come, deserves to feel good. I'm gonna make sure she does, yeah?” He nuzzles his nose against yours.
You moan a higher pitched ‘yeah’ back to him, one push away from letting go completely.
“Do it, then. You can do it, baby.” He whispers, voice low and persuasive, “C’mon, don't hold back. Let me see it… Come f’me.”
He squeezes your ass in his big hand and bucks his hips harder into yours, the deepened friction of your clit rubbing against his thigh making you shudder with a moan you couldn't have muffled even if you wanted to. You lower your head as your walls spasm around nothing but the fantasy he's created, wishing he was inside you so that you could show him how good you feel. Your clit is throbbing as you grind through it, waiting for him to let go, too.
The sight of you alone was enough, but hearing your moans and little gasps sends him flying over the edge almost instantly, coming undone with a dark spot slowly spreading on his sweats. He could be embarrassed that you made him come in his pants like a horny teenager, but he doesn't even bother.
“Fuck, fuck…” He grits his teeth, hips moving more sluggish as he rides out his high with a pulsing cock and the wet spot still grinding against your thigh. You both slow down, the previous urgency now reduced to hips rolling languidly as you catch your breath.
Hyunjin presses a firm kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pressing another, then one to your temple.
Your hand slides up his side, around to his stomach and rests on his chest, fist loosely grabbing his shirt.
“You okay?” He whispers after you both have come down a bit.
You nod before you speak, taking a second to swallow and clear your throat first. “I'm okay.”
He nods too, tearing his hand from your ass and lifting your head back to look at him.
“You did so well.” He praises gently, holding your chin up as if you're the most precious, delicate thing in the whole world. “Felt good?”
You nod again, hips still adjusting through the aftershocks.
He grins, “Me too. That was fun.”
His lips meet your cheek this time, anchoring you back into the present moment with him. He sees you still lost in the pleasure, not saying much.
“Wanna do more of that?” He asks, his breath clashing against your skin. Your interest is piqued, you tug his shirt in response.
“Yes, I want more. Please, Hyun.”
He pulls back and presses his lips to yours, a slow kiss that answers your begging and fills you with relief and excitement.
Pulling away just enough to speak, he murmurs against your lips, “Good girl. I know exactly how I want you.”
honestly, screw him for this. you bring him to your family so he can be introduced to them, and this is how he repays you? by forcing you to hush up your sounds of pleasure in your childhood bedroom?
he’s quite pleased with himself. you can feel his growled laughter against your puffy folds, his pupils wide and blown as he occasionally looks up at you. he flattens his tongue, running it from your spasming hole to your clit before he parts from you. chin dribbling and his plush lips curled into a smile. he’s made you come once, and he doesn’t plan on stopping now.
he loves a good personal record.
you can barely breathe, and he’s tormenting you. taking a delight in it. he sat there during dinner as the perfect spectacle of a man, helping your mother, impressing your father. and now he’s got your sweetness on his tongue like ambrosia. you knew that joke he made at the table about innocent “cream pies” for dessert was too good to be true.
he nudges his nose against your thigh, kissing the junction between your mound and leg crease.
“still with me…? silly girl, letting me eat you out in your cute little room you grew up in...”
you’d throw a curse at him if you had the energy, but his words make something churn delightfully in your stomach. a wanton sound bubbles up in your throat and escapes, making you slap your hand over your lips. his hands are snaked up your shirt, kneading at your breasts in his palms. warm and soft. just like the rest of you.
you did homework on this bed. gossiped to friends about who was doing what, the people you had crushes on. and here he is, the man of your dreams giving you a nice night cap involving his drooling tongue to end the perfect day.
he dives back in with good vigor and an obnoxious slurping sound. why does he get to be loud? with his lips closing around your sensitive bundle of nerves, chan’s own eyes close as your thighs squeeze around his head. it makes his head dizzy and his cock twitch against the mattress. he laps soft, gentle kitten licks, mimicking your whining and mewling back to you before laughing with a rolled out tongue.
“shh… don’t wanna wake up your family…”
chan blows cold air against your folds as you twitch, stifling your hiccuped little moans behind your hand. he grins and nudges your clit with his nose. you smell too good, he wants to burrow his face in you forever.
“slutty pussy… dripping all over your sheets…” and because chan can never degrade you without feeling like a monster if there’s no praise—
“so pretty down here… pretty everywhere… you taste so good, i could eat it for hours. will you let me, baby? let channie love on this pretty cunt all night?”
his hands slide up and down the sides of your torso, and you’re not even sure what he’s saying. your head is spinning, on cloud 9. but you nod, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on your childhood bedroom ceiling.
if you look down at him you swear you’ll come again. the sounds are already too much, his grunts and groans with the wet clicking and squelching every time his tongue laves down on your pussy. he’s painfully throbbing in his boxers. you have that affect on him.
“there she is… letting me do whatever i want… you worked so hard to make tonight go smooth… looked so sexy in your pretty outfit… let me treat my girl…”
chan purses his slick covered, thick lips and kisses your clit. a soft suck to it, drawing back. he can feel sinewy strings of your juices and his saliva connecting his lips to you. he repeats the feverish kisses, his hips rocking against the mattress every time your hips buck and you let out a little soft cry. “yeah? mm? like it when channie kisses your soft pussy? oh, look at you, darling… you must feel so good… precious little thing.”
you babble a slew of moans as he gathers saliva in his own mouth and rolls his tongue out, letting it fall onto your slit with his expression of pinched brows and a begging eyes. oh, he knows what he’s doing.
he flattens his tongue, licking a long, pressured stripe up from your perineum to your suck a kiss onto your throbbing clit with a dramatically drawn out moan of his own. chan repeats it a few more times, making sure the round tip of his nose catches under the hood of your cute little button.
your hole is clenching around nothing, hips writhing a bit. he’s got you, don’t worry. he laps at your folds, shaking his head around and moans at the taste of you once more before drawing back. chan rests his head against your thigh and brings a hand up to play with your pussy while he talks to you, finding it amusing how you gasp for air and try to keep quiet.
“so soft… so wet and warm f’me… you love my tongue, don’t you, baby? mmm… fuck yeah… my tongue loves you too, sweetheart.”
chan rubs three fingers in gentle, petting circles around your folds, making sure his middle finger catches on your clit with sticky sounds at every rounding gesture. he could play with you like a fidget toy all day and never get bored. call you in during studio sessions, he’d feel relaxed just from making you feel good. his mouth waters at how aroused he’s made you. chan’s breathless from both devouring you like a starved man and humping the corner of the bed to relieve himself.
but you haven’t come again yet. he’s been edging you on that peak for a while like a heartless man. in chan’s defense, he thinks he can get you to gush more for him. if it isn’t messy, he didn’t do his job. he loves making you feel good, and he’s obsessed with making you come as hard as possible. it’s his best devotion to you.
“you look exhausted… ‘s okay, you’re okay… so fuckin’ gorgeous like this, fuck me… ‘m gonna… ‘m gonna rock you to sleep… fall asleep full of me…”
all you do is nod, a squeak of a whine. your fucked out expression is all he needs to sit up on his haunches and stare down at you. you’re leaking like a broken faucet all over the sheets, staining them a darker patch under your ass. it’ll be easier to slide into you like that. all pliant and soaked and craving him inside of you—
“actually, baby… you wanna try something new? be my good girl…? you’re gonna sit that pretty pussy on my face.”
—
author’s note: thank you for 500 followers, i can’t believe it! i wanted to write something as a treat in between drafting requests ^-^*
Warnings: p in v, creampie, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, light possessiveness, mild overstimulation, mild breeding kink
A/N: just a quick something before doing the requests i got lately
The gravel crunched under the tires as the rental SUV finally rolled to a stop in front of the cottage. Chan killed the engine and for a long moment neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t empty, it was full: of pine sap, distant woodpeckers, the faint metallic tick of the cooling motor and the sudden, almost embarrassing awareness that this was real. You were here. Married. Alone. For ten whole days.
Chan turned to you first. His left hand still rested on the wheel; the new platinum band on his fourth finger caught a stray shaft of late-afternoon sun and threw a tiny prism across the dashboard. He noticed you looking at it the same second you did.
"Still feels weird" he murmured, flexing his fingers once like he was testing whether the ring would stay put.
You reached over and covered his hand with yours. Your own ring, thinner, more delicate, but matching, clicked softly against his.
"Good weird?" you asked.
He exhaled through his nose, the sound half-laugh, half-sigh. "The best kind."
Then he was out of the car before you could answer, rounding the hood with that quick, purposeful stride he always used when he was trying not to look nervous. He opened your door like it was ceremony. Offered his hand. You took it and let him help you down even though the drop was barely 10 cm.
The air smelled sharply of resin and damp earth. Somewhere a stream flows. The cottage sat maybe twenty meters ahead, dark cedar siding, wide windows framed in forest green, a generous wraparound porch already dusted with fallen needles. Smoke was supposed to curl from the stone chimney later; right now the sky was still too bright for that kind of coziness.
Chan didn’t let go of your hand. Instead he tugged you gently toward the front door, then stopped short on the bottom porch step. You felt the shift in him before he even spoke, the way his shoulders squared, the sudden sheepish tilt of his head.
"What?" you asked, already smiling.
He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. Ears going faintly pink. "I, uh… I know no one’s watching. But I still want to do it right."
You blinked. "Do what right?"
He didn’t answer with words. In one smooth motion he bent, hooked an arm under your knees and the other behind your back and lifted. You yelped, more surprise than anything, then dissolved into helpless laughter as he carried you up the three steps. Your arms automatically wound around his neck; his hoodie smelled like the airport, your perfume, and him.
"Chan-"
"Tradition" he said solemnly, though the corners of his mouth were fighting a grin. "Can’t skip tradition on day eleven."
"Day eleven of forever" you corrected and felt the way his chest stuttered under your palms at the reminder.
He paused at the threshold long enough to nudge the door open with his foot. The hinges gave a soft, almost polite creak. Then he stepped inside, careful not to knock your head against the frame, and only set you down once he was fully over the line.
The moment your feet touched the wide-plank floorboards he kissed you. Not the quick, giddy ones from the past few days. This was slower. Deeper. His hands framed your face like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go. When he finally pulled back his forehead rested against yours.
"Hi, wife" he whispered.
Your heart did something ridiculous: tripped, then soared.
"Hi, husband."
He smiled against your mouth, small and private, then kissed you again. Shorter this time. A punctuation mark rather than a paragraph.
Only then did he step back and actually look around. The cottage was exactly as the photos had promised, only better in person. Open-plan living area with a vaulted ceiling crossed by exposed beams. A stone fireplace that took up most of one wall. A kitchen island made from a single thick slab of walnut, still showing faint saw marks. Windows everywhere, floor-to-ceiling on the back wall looking straight into dense evergreens. The light inside was green-gold, filtered through needles.
Chan let out a low whistle. "This is… wow."
You wandered toward the windows while he went back outside to grab the suitcases. By the time he returned, two trips, stubbornly refusing your help, you had already kicked off your sneakers and were padding barefoot across the cool floorboards.
He dropped the bags near the couch, then came up behind you. Arms sliding around your waist. Chin hooking over your shoulder.
"Smell that?" he murmured.
You inhaled. Cedar. Woodsmoke from the last guests. Something faintly sweet, maybe wax polish. Underneath it all, him. Warm skin, faint traces of cologne that had survived twelve hours of travel.
"Yeah" you said softly.
He pressed his lips to the side of your neck. Just once. Lingering. "We’re really here."
You turned in his arms, hands sliding up to rest against his chest. His heart was beating a little fast. "We are."
For a few minutes you just stood like that, swaying slightly, not quite dancing, just breathing each other in. Eventually hunger won out. You hadn’t eaten since the airport breakfast sandwiches.
Chan insisted on making dinner. You perched on one of the bar stools at the island and watched him move around the tiny kitchen like he’d lived there for years. He’d packed half the suitcase with groceries from a market stop an hour back: fresh vegetables, thick slices of hanwoo beef, garlic, gochujang, sesame oil, a bottle of soju wrapped in a towel so it wouldn’t clink.
He hummed under his breath while he worked. Some melody you didn’t recognize, probably something he was still tinkering with in his head. Every so often he’d glance over at you and smile. Small. Secret. Like he couldn’t quite believe you were sitting there in his hoodie (the black one with the frayed drawstrings you’d stolen three years ago) watching your brand-new husband cook.
When the beef hit the hot pan the kitchen filled with sharp, caramelizing sizzle. You inhaled so deeply your eyes watered a little.
He laughed. "Hungry?"
"Starving."
He plated everything family-style: thin slices of perfectly seared meat, blistered shishito peppers, quick-pickled radish, steamed rice still sticking slightly to the sides of the pot. You ate at the little dining table near the windows as the sun dropped behind the ridge and turned the forest into velvet black.
After dinner you didn’t bother clearing the table right away. Instead Chan pulled you onto his lap on the wide leather couch. The fire he’d started earlier was crackling now, throwing shifting shadows across the walls. You tucked your face into the crook of his neck and felt him exhale, long and slow, like he was finally letting the last of the city tension bleed out of him.
"Tell me something" he said quietly.
"Hm?"
"Anything. Just… talk to me."
So you did. You told him about the way your mom had sobbed when she saw you in the wedding dress for the first time. How your little cousin had tried to sneak an entire tray of macarons under the table. How you’d caught Chan’s youngest sister filming you both during the first dance and making kissy faces behind the camera.
He laughed, soft, rumbling, every time you got to a funny part. His fingers kept tracing absent circles on your lower back.
Eventually you ran out of stories and just listened to his heartbeat instead. After a while he spoke again, voice so low you felt it more than heard it.
"I keep thinking about the vows."
You lifted your head. "Yeah?"
He nodded. Eyes on the fire. "When I said ‘in all the chaos and all the quiet’… I didn’t know what the quiet would actually feel like. Not really. Not until right now."
You cupped his cheek. Thumb brushing the faint freckle under his eye.
"It’s nice, isn’t it?"
"More than nice."
He turned his head to kiss your palm. "I could get used to this."
You smiled. "We’ve got nine more days to practice."
His grin turned a little wicked. "Nine days" he echoed. "And nights."
You laughed and swatted his chest. He caught your wrist and kissed the inside of it, then tugged you closer until you were straddling him properly. The hoodie rode up your thighs; his hands found skin immediately: warm, possessive, but still careful.
"Not tonight" you murmured against his mouth. "Tonight I just want… this."
He searched your face for a second, then nodded. "Okay."
So you stayed like that, kissing slow and lazy, hands wandering without urgency, the fire popping every so often like it was keeping time. Eventually you migrated to the bedroom upstairs. It had a king bed made up with cream linens, a thick wool throw at the foot, and another wall of windows that looked out over nothing but treetops.
You changed into sleep clothes while Chan brushed his teeth. When he came back he was shirtless, sweatpants slung low. The new tattoo on his ribs: the tiny crescent moon you’d drawn on a napkin three years ago and begged him to keep forever, was stark against his skin in the low lamplight.
He caught you staring. "Like what you see, Mrs. Bahng?"
The name hit like a soft punch every time.
You crossed the room and slid your arms around his waist. "Very much, Mr. Bahng."
He kissed the top of your head, then your forehead, then your mouth, gentle, lingering. When you finally crawled under the covers he followed, pulling you back against his chest the way he always did. One arm under your pillow. The other wrapped around your middle. His breath warm against your nape.
"Love you" he whispered into your hair.
It wasn’t the first time he’d said it. Not even close. But tonight it felt different. Permanent. Etched.
You turned your head just enough to find his lips in the dark. "Love you too."
Sleep came slow and sweet, wrapped in laundry scented sheets and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
The next morning you woke to birds and the smell of coffee.
Chan was already up, barefoot, hair a disaster, wearing the soft gray hoodie you’d abandoned last night. He’d opened every window on the ground floor; cool morning air moved through the house like a sigh.
He handed you a mug without a word. Black. Two sugars. Exactly how you liked it.
You sat together on the porch steps while the mist still clung to the pines. Neither of you spoke for almost twenty minutes. Just sipped. Watched. Breathed.
Eventually he bumped your shoulder with his. "Walk?"
You nodded. So you walked. Hand in hand down the narrow dirt path that curved behind the cottage and disappeared into the trees. The forest smelled like wet bark and green life. Ferns brushed your calves. Chan didn’t talk much. Just pointed out little things: a woodpecker flashing red against a trunk, mushrooms the color of apricots growing in a fallen log, the way sunlight shattered through the canopy and landed in bright coins on the path.
At one point he stopped, crouched, and picked up a perfect pinecone. Turned it over in his fingers like it was treasure.
"Souvenir?" you teased.
He looked up at you, eyes soft. "For the studio. Put it on the desk. Every time I look at it I’ll remember this."
Your throat tightened. He stood, slipped the pinecone into his hoodie pocket, then pulled you close and kissed you right there in the middle of the path. Slow. Thorough. Like he had all the time in the world. Because for once, he did.
The rest of the day passed in that same gentle rhythm. Coffee. Breakfast (pancakes he insisted on flipping dramatically, nearly catching the ceiling fan). A long nap on the couch with your head in his lap while he scrolled through photos from the wedding on his phone, showing you his favorites and pretending he wasn’t tearing up at the candid of you laughing during your vows.
Late lunch turned into early dinner because neither of you wanted to stop touching long enough to cook properly. You ended up eating cheese and crackers and fruit on the rug in front of the fire, feeding each other bites and laughing when strawberry juice dripped on his chin.
Night fell soft and cool. You took a bath together in the deep clawfoot tub, bubbles up to your chin, his long legs folded awkwardly around yours, both of you giggling like teenagers when water sloshed over the side.
Afterward he wrapped you in the biggest towel like you were something precious, carried you to bed, and spent twenty minutes just kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Not trying to start anything. Just… worshipping.
When he finally settled behind you again, spooning close, his voice was rough with sleep and something deeper.
"Best decision I ever made" he mumbled into your shoulder.
You laced your fingers with his. Felt the rings click together. "Second best" you whispered back. "First was letting me steal your hoodie three years ago."
He huffed a laugh against your neck. "Fair."
And then you both drifted off to the sound of wind moving through the pines and the soft crackle of embers dying in the hearth downstairs.
The golden hour had stretched longer than usual that afternoon, painting the entire cottage in honey and amber through the tall windows. You’d spent most of the day barefoot, wearing nothing but Chan’s oversized black hoodie, the one with the faded logo across the chest and sleeves so long they swallowed your hands. It hit you mid-thigh when you stood still, shorter when you reached or bent. You hadn’t bothered with anything underneath. Not today.
Chan had noticed. He’d noticed the first time you stretched up to grab a mug from the high shelf and the hem rode up just enough to show the soft curve where thigh met hip. He’d noticed again when you leaned across the kitchen island to steal a slice of apple from the cutting board he was using, the fabric shifting, exposing skin that made his knife pause mid-chop. He’d noticed every single time you walked past him, slow, deliberate, pretending you didn’t feel the weight of his gaze dragging down your legs like a physical touch.
By four, the air inside felt thicker than the pine-scented breeze drifting through the open windows. The fire he’d built earlier had died down to glowing coals; neither of you had bothered to add more wood. You were both too distracted.
You were rinsing a glass at the sink when you felt him move behind you. Not sudden. Not rushed. Just… inevitable. His chest pressed lightly to your back first. Then his hands, those beautiful, veined, calloused hands, slid over your hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin just under the hoodie’s hem. He didn’t speak right away. Just stood there, breathing you in, letting you feel how hard he already was through the soft fabric of his sweatpants.
You tilted your head back against his shoulder. "You’ve been staring all day."
His laugh was low. Rough. "Can you blame me?"
One hand slid up, slow and deliberate, until his palm flattened against your stomach under the hoodie. The other stayed low, fingers splaying across the top of your thigh, not quite touching where you wanted him most. Teasing.
"You look…" He swallowed. Voice dropped even lower. "…like mine."
The words landed heavy in your belly. You turned in his arms. The glass clinked forgotten against the sink edge.
Chan’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, that familiar flush creeping up his neck and into his ears. He looked wrecked already and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.
You reached up, fingers threading into the soft hair at his nape, tugging just enough to make him exhale sharply through his nose. "Then take what’s yours, husband."
The word snapped something in him. He kissed you like he was starving, open-mouthed, hungry, tongue sliding against yours with none of the careful sweetness from the night before. His hands shoved under the hoodie immediately, rough palms skating up your ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arched into him; he groaned into your mouth at the feel of bare skin, no bra, no barriers.
"Fuck" he breathed against your lips. "No underwear?"
"Thought you might like the surprise."
He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl. Then he was lifting you, effortless, like you weighed nothing, until your thighs wrapped around his waist. The hoodie rucked up completely now, bunched around your ribs. Cool air hit overheated skin; you shivered.
Chan carried you the few steps to the sturdy oak kitchen table. He didn’t bother clearing the cutting board or the half-chopped vegetables. Just shoved them aside with one forearm, carrots rolling, knife clattering and set you down on the edge.
He stepped between your legs, hands immediately pushing the hoodie higher until it bunched under your arms, exposing you completely to him. His gaze raked down your body like he was trying to memorize every inch all over again.
"God…" His voice cracked. "Look at you."
You leaned back on your palms, thighs parting wider in invitation. "Like what you see?"
He didn’t answer with words. Instead he dropped to his knees, right there on the worn rug in front of the table and hooked your legs over his shoulders in one smooth motion. You gasped when his mouth found the inside of your thigh, teeth grazing just enough to sting. He worked his way up slowly, deliberately, kissing and licking and sucking marks into skin that would bloom purple by morning.
When he finally reached where you were already slick and aching, he paused, just long enough to meet your eyes.
"Been thinking about this since the second we walked through the door yesterday" he murmured, breath hot against you. "About spreading you out. Tasting my wife on my tongue. Making you come so hard you forget your own name."
Then he licked a slow, broad stripe up your center. Your head fell back on a broken moan.
Chan didn’t tease after that. He devoured. Tongue flat and firm, then pointed and quick, circling your clit with devastating precision. Two fingers slid inside you without warning, thick, curled just right and you clenched around them immediately. He groaned at the feel of it, the sound vibrating through you.
"Fuck, you’re so wet" he rasped between licks. "So fucking perfect."
You threaded your fingers into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him hiss. He only doubled down, sucking your clit into his mouth, fingers pumping steadily, thumb brushing the sensitive spot just above where his tongue worked.
The table creaked under your shifting weight. Your heels dug into his back. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in your belly until it snapped, sudden, blinding. You came with a cry that echoed off the high ceiling, thighs trembling around his head, fingers yanking at his hair so hard it had to hurt.
He didn’t stop. Kept licking you through it, slower now, gentler, until the aftershocks faded and you were whimpering from overstimulation. Only then did he pull back.
His lips were swollen, chin glistening. Eyes wild. He rose slowly, hands sliding up your thighs, gripping hard enough to leave prints. When he kissed you again you tasted yourself on his tongue, salty, intimate. You moaned into his mouth.
"Need you" you whispered against his lips. "Now."
Chan didn’t make you ask twice. He shoved his sweatpants down just enough, cock springing free, thick and flushed dark at the tip, already leaking. He fisted himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours. "Condom?" he asked, voice gravel.
You shook your head. "I’m still on the pill. And we’re married now." You smiled, small and wicked. "I want to feel you. All of you."
Something feral flickered across his face. He lined himself up, notched the head against your entrance and pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch, every ridge, until he was buried to the hilt. Both of you froze.
He dropped his forehead to yours. Breathing ragged. "Fuck…" The word was punched out of him. "You feel, shit, baby, you feel like heaven."
You clenched around him on purpose. He jerked. Swore under his breath in Korean, low, filthy things you only half-understood but felt everywhere. Then he started moving. Slow, deep rolls of his hips at first. Letting you adjust. Letting you feel him stretch you, fill you, claim you in a way that felt brand new even after years together. His hands gripped your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh above your hip bones.
"Look at me" he breathed.
You did. His eyes were liquid dark, pupils swallowing the brown. Sweat already beading at his temples. That stupidly beautiful face flushed and focused entirely on you.
"Mrs. Bahng" he whispered, testing the words again like they were still new magic. "My wife."
He thrust harder on the next stroke. Deeper. You gasped. He smiled, slow, dangerous.
"That’s it. Let me hear you."
The pace built steadily. The table rocked beneath you now, wood groaning in protest. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red crescents across ink and skin. He fucked you like he was trying to imprint himself inside you: long, punishing strokes that hit exactly where you needed, grinding his pelvis against your clit on every deep thrust.
"God, you’re so tight" he groaned. "So fucking wet for me. Always so ready."
You wrapped your legs higher around his waist, changing the angle. He swore again, loud this time, head dropping to your shoulder as he drove in harder.
"Chan-"
"Say it again" he demanded against your neck. Teeth grazing your pulse. "Say my name."
"Chan" you gasped. "Husband, fuck, please-"
He lifted his head. Kissed you messy and desperate. One hand slid between you, thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that matched the rhythm of his hips.
"Come for me again" he growled against your mouth. "Wanna feel you come all over my cock. Wanna feel my wife fall apart."
The words, combined with the relentless pressure, the stretch, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the universe, sent you over the edge for the second time.
You shattered. Loud. Unrestrained. Back arching off the table, thighs shaking, walls pulsing around him so hard he nearly lost rhythm.
He fucked you through it, harder, faster, chasing his own release now. His thrusts turned erratic, hips snapping, breath coming in sharp pants against your throat.
"Where?" he managed, voice wrecked. "Tell me where-"
"Inside" you breathed without hesitation. "Want it inside. Want all of you."
That did it. He slammed in one last time, deep, grinding and came with a guttural moan that vibrated through both of you. You felt him pulse, felt the hot rush of him filling you, felt the way his whole body shuddered as he emptied inside.
He didn’t pull out right away. Just stayed buried deep, arms wrapping around you, pulling you up until you were sitting pressed chest-to-chest. His forehead rested against yours again. Both of you breathing hard, skin slick with sweat.
For long minutes there was only the sound of your breathing, the faint crackle of dying coals in the fireplace, and the occasional drip of water from the sink you’d never turned off.
Chan kissed your temple. Soft. Reverent.
"Mrs. Bahng" he whispered again, like he couldn’t stop tasting it.
You smiled against his cheek. "Mr. Bahng."
He huffed a laugh, still breathless, then kissed you properly. Slow. Lazy. Full of all the things neither of you needed to say out loud anymore.
Eventually he softened enough to slip out. You both winced at the loss. He glanced down between you, watched the slow trickle of his come leak out and made a low, appreciative sound in his throat.
"Fuck. That’s hot."
You laughed, swatting his chest weakly. "Perv."
"Your perv." He grinned. Kissed the tip of your nose. "Forever."
He helped you down from the table, legs shaky, thighs sticky then scooped you up bridal-style like he had on the threshold yesterday. You looped your arms around his neck.
"Bed?" you asked.
"Shower first" he decided. "Then bed. Then maybe round two."
You raised an eyebrow. "Already?"
He carried you toward the stairs anyway. "I’ve got eight more days to make sure you can still feel me when we get home" he murmured against your ear. "Gonna make sure you never forget what it feels like to be mine."
You shivered. Pressed closer.
"Good" you whispered back. "Because I don’t ever want to forget."
He kissed you again, right there on the stairs, slow and deep and full of promise.
Then he carried you the rest of the way upstairs, into the bathroom, under the warm spray of the shower where he washed you carefully, reverently, like you were something sacred.
And when you finally collapsed into the big bed afterward, clean, boneless, tangled together under the thick quilts, he pulled you close, lips brushing your shoulder.
"Love you" he murmured into your skin.
You turned just enough to find his mouth in the dark. "Love you too."
The forest outside was quiet except for the wind in the pines.
Inside, it was only the sound of two hearts beating in time. And the soft click of wedding rings brushing together under the covers.
themes: body insecurities, sad for a quick minute but a happy ending, felix is an angel as always, felix is whipped
She couldn’t help but to feel insecure—watching as the waves crashed against the shore. Y/n cast a glance in the direction of all the commotion—her gaze landing on one of the women currently wrapped up in an intense game of beach volleyball against some of the guys.
‘I wish I looked like that,” she couldn’t help but to mutter.
Y/n had never been super insecure of her body. That was until she started coming around. It didn’t help knowing that she also had a crush on Felix or that she was absolutely gorgeous. Her weight sat in all the places Y/n wished hers did. A beautiful hourglass figure, flat stomach, silky smooth skin, and a chiseled face.
Layla had a body she never would. And to top it off, she was an absolute angel.
Y/n couldn’t hate her even if she wanted to.
“What’s wrong with the way you look now?”
His deep voice made her jump, eyes wide as she turned towards Felix. There was a frown on his plump lips as he closed the cooler and took a seat next to her. Y/n’s eyes lingered a little too long on the glistening skin of his chest. She blinked, clearing her throat before moving over to make room for Felix on her towel.
She thinks if the silence lingers between them, that he will think she didn’t hear him and they can move on from this. Act like she wasn’t caught admiring another woman’s body and wishing hers didn’t look the way it did.
“You didn’t answer me.”
There’s a pout in his voice as she turns towards him. Her heart skips a beat at how close he is sitting to her. His bare arm brushes hers—the coolness of his wet skin providing a bit of relief to her overheated body.
She doesn’t know how it’s possible, but she thinks that his freckles have multiplied from the past few hours spent in the sun.
“I-,” she begins, but hesitates.
“It’s nothing Felix. Just thinking out loud.”
She laughs but there’s no humor behind it, instead her lower lip wobbles. She turns her gaze from the blonde next to her and back towards the others.
Layla cheers as the ball touches the ground in front of Changbin. Her smile is bright, wind a paid actor as her auburn hair floats beautifully behind her.
‘If only.’
Suddenly, there’s a hand under her chin, turning your attention back in his direction. Her eyes are wide as they meet Felix’s. There’s a furrow between his brow, but his eyes are soft with worry.
It’s then that Y/n feels a wetness on her cheeks. Felix gently wipes her tears before pulling her into his embrace and somehow…it makes her feel worse.
It makes her even more aware of their size difference.
Y/n wiggles free of his grasp, she pretends like she doesn’t see the look of hurt on his face as she stands.
“I’m going to head in for a bit,” she mutters—swiping at her wet eyes as she makes her way past the others and back up towards the house.
‘A bit’ ended up being the rest of the evening. When Hyunjin knocked on her door to see if she was okay, she had told him she felt a bit exhausted from the heat and was going to lay down early—which resulted in Chan delivering a couple of water bottles to her room and scolding her softly for not drinking enough.
She could hear the laughter travel up the staircase as she left her room to shower. Y/n could hear Layla’s laughter—probably at something Felix had said.
She closes the door to the bathroom, slipping into the shower, and letting the water wash away the sand and salt from not only the ocean, but her tears as well.
Y/n is beyond tired when she steps out. She dries herself—frowning as she tries to avoid looking at her body for too long. She continues with her night routine so that she can slip between the sheets once she returns to her room.
As she secures the robe around her waist—there’s a knock at the door.
She thinks it’s one of the others needing to use the bathroom. Without thinking, she opens the door—greeted by the man she had left stranded on the beach.
His hair was wet, the shoulders of his shirt spotted with water droplets from his ends. Y/n figured he must have just washed up as well in his and Chan’s shared bathroom.
He doesn’t say anything as he gently takes her hand in his, leading her back towards her room.
Y/n’s heart leaps in her chest as he shuts the door.
She notices the shiver that wracks his body momentarily from the cool air in her room.
Before he can say anything, she motions towards the vanity, “Sit. I’ll dry your hair.”
Felix looks like he wants to protest but she starts the dryer, waiting for him to sit. He does, but his eyes don’t leave hers. She feels the weight of them on her in the mirror, her palms growing clammy under his gaze. She doesn’t like the attention, not with her earlier accidental confession weighing in the air.
It doesn’t take long for Felix’s hair to dry. She turns the dryer off, moving to lay it on vanity. But as she does, Felix grips her arm. Y/n gasps dropping the dryer onto the floor with a loud thud as she’s pulled into Felix’s lap.
“Felix,” she protests but he holds her firmly in his lap.
“Stop moving.”
The deepness of his voice stills her.
He reaches up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, “Now tell me, what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“It’s nothing Lix. Just forget I said—.”
“It’s not nothing Y/n. You think I don’t notice the way your mood shifts when Layla is around? How much more you cover up and try to make yourself unnoticeable? How you won’t let me touch you without pulling away or stay still in my lap because you think you’re hurting me.”
Y/n’s eyes well with hot tears, her eyes moving to look anywhere but at his. But Felix won’t let her. His own soft brown eyes are filled with tears of his own.
“You don’t realize how perfect you are in every way and that kills me.”
Her brows furrow as she hesitantly meets his gaze, “W-What?”
Felix signs, moving both of his arms around her waist before pressing their foreheads together. Y/n freezes in his grasp, the heat of his breath grazing over her lips.
“You don’t realize the effect you have on me.”
Y/n feels as though she stops breathing.
“But I—wouldn’t you prefer someone like Layla?”
Felix huffs out a laugh of disbelief. His eyes flicker with mischief.
“Layla isn’t the one in my lap right now, is she?”
Y/n’s eyes widen, her cheeks heating but she doesn’t say anything.
“Is that what brought this on?”
His words are soft, wanting nothing but to understand her.
“I—maybe? I never thought anything of myself or my body until she started coming around. She’s amazing don’t get me wrong but she’s so gorgeous. It got worse with the beach trips and then knowing how she felt about y—.”
Y/n bits her tongue as she meets Felix’s gaze.
“I know she likes me.”
Y/n didn’t know how she felt about the news. Before she could overthink, Felix brushed his nose against hers before pulling back slightly.
“I told her that I already had someone else in my heart. Someone funny, kind-hearted, who doesn’t see how perfect she is inside and out,” he whispers as he inches forward again.
“Someone I’ve always dreamed of holding like this.”
Y/n’s breath catches in her throat as his plush lips brush against hers.
“Someone so beautiful in every way it drives me crazy,” he finished breathless before slotting his lips with hers.
The kiss is slow, each press of his lips against hers sending butterflies throughout her body.
Y/n lets him hold her and kiss her until they are breathless. Until those silly thoughts leave her head and until voices rise in the hall wondering where the two of them had disappeared to.
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best friend! Kim 𝓢eungmin x f!reader x campus crush! Bang 𝓒han 9,193 words
in 𝓦hich: you can do nothing but complain to your best friend seungmin about the thin walls of your apartment and your roommate’s relentless sex life driving you insane. you don’t have to guts to admit to him that sometimes you actually listened in, hoping that her hot boyfriend, chris, was pounding into you instead. but seungmin isn't stupid, and he helps you give chris a taste of his own medicine.
content warnings & tags: this honestly became way smuttier than I had expected tbh, so proceed with caution. voyeurism !! 65% of this is dom! seung and the rest needy! chan. eventual threesome, degradation, use of toy, orgasm denial(?), lots and lots of name-calling, masturbation (f), oral (f & m recieving), unprotected sex, lots of things tbh, so lmk if i missed anything! sexual content ahead, viewer discretion is advised.
conversations with seungmin were like slipping into your favourite worn-out hoodie; something that you don't even remember when it had become a constant in your life.
somewhere between late-night study sessions and shared meals at the campus café, he had quietly become your best friend; the one person who had seen you cry over grades, over family calls that ended too abruptly, over dreams that felt too big for dorm-room ceilings. with him, nothing felt too heavy to say out loud.
you were on the phone now, sprawled across your bed, your laptop abandoned somewhere near your feet, whining about the latest group assignment while he laughed—loud, unfiltered, the kind that made your stomach flip even when you pretended it didn’t.
“—and then this idiot submits the wrong file, so now we’re all scrambling like headless chickens,” you groaned, flopping dramatically onto your pillow.
seungmin snorted. “sounds like karma for calling my coding project ‘a glorified calculator app’ last week.”
you laughed despite yourself. “prof seemed to agree with me if i remember correctly.”
he scoffed, already launching into a dramatic defense of his work, when suddenly you heard it. the soft click of the door. followed by hushed giggles. footsteps. your stomach dropped.
“oh no,” you muttered.
“what happened?” seungmin asked, confused at the sudden change in your voice.
before you could answer, the muffled sound of voices drifted through the thin walls. your roommate. and her boyfriend.
“ugh,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “it’s happening. again.”
seungmin laughed. because of course he did, with your misery being his main source of entertainment. “what is?”
“it’s sooha and her boyfriend. chris? i’d told you about them, remember?” you replied, lowering your voice instinctively. “they can not keep it in their pants, man, i swear. she’s been dating this guy for, like, two weeks now, and almost every day they decide our dorm is their personal love hotel. it’s so fucking annoying.”
“sucks to be you,” seungmin said, completely unhelpful and way too used to your roommate’s antics.
you huffed, half annoyed, half exhausted, and he moved on, ranting about something else entirely. some professor. some deadline. his voice droned comfortably in your ear, familiar and grounding, and yet your attention betrayed you.
because the noises didn’t stop, they never did.
they only continued till you felt like you were losing your mind.
to be honest, it wasn’t truly even that bad. your rooms were on the opposite ends of the cozy living room, and the walls were thick enough that you could continue with your work without needing to blast music at full volume if you were focused enough.
but it was never about the sounds, no matter how much you told yourself, but it was always about his presence.
the noises started almost immediately— soft at first, the creak of the mattress in the next room, her breathy laugh turning into something softer, needier. then his low murmur, the kind that carried just enough bass to vibrate through the wall. you could picture it too clearly: his hands on her waist, her head tipping back, the way the bedframe would tap rhythmically against the wall soon enough.
you swallowed hard.
“hey? you there?” seungmin’s voice sharpened, his concern cutting through the haze.
you blinked, grounding yourself. “what?”
“you went quiet,” he said. “you okay, angel?”
of course he noticed. he always did. he knew your pauses, your tells, the way your breathing changed when something was wrong. and now this, apparently.
“yeah. yeah, of course,” you said quickly, laughing a little at your awkwardness. “sorry. i’m just… yeah. it’s nothing. continue.”
but it wasn’t nothing.
you’d complained to him countless times about your roommate. about the noise, the lack of boundaries, the frustration of trying to study or sleep through it all.
what you didn’t tell him was the part that made your stomach twist with guilt. the part you buried so deep you barely admitted it to yourself.
that sometimes, in the quiet moments when you were alone with your thoughts, your imagination betrayed you. that sometimes you pictured her boyfriend in places he had no right to be.
the idea unsettled you as much as it lingered, and the shame of it burned hotter than the thought itself.
“i need to go now,” the muffled sound of seungmin getting up and moving around brought you back. “you sure you’re okay? you can come by if you feel too uncomfortable or something? i’ll just tell the guys to reschedule—”
“no, no, minnie, that won’t be necessary, i’m fine. thank you for offering though,” you say. “sorry for making you worry, i was just… thinking about what we’re gonna do with the project.”
“okay then,” he didn’t sound convinced, but didn’t press further. “all the best, angel.” he ended the call, and silence settled in, making it harder for you to ignore the couple next door.
it had been weeks since your last call with seungmin. assignments, group meetings, finals prep; the usual excuses had kept you both busy and orbiting around each other at a safe distance.
quick waves across the lecture hall, a shared eye-roll during a particularly brutal presentation, but no real time. no late-night rants, no movie marathons, no accidental silences that meant too much.
now that your exams were finally over, it felt as if a weight had been lifted, and you had called seungmin over to make up for lost time.
you hummed to yourself as you fired off yet another text, wearing your most comfortable tank top and shorts; double, triple checking if he had picked up all the snacks you had asked him for;
seung
seungmiinnnnnnn
u got the spicy ramen right?
AND the chips i told u about??
DON’T YOU DARE FORGET THE SOJU
minnniee my loveeeee
pls come quick baby i’m starving
his reply was instant, predictably teasing;
crazy how you only care about me when i bring snacks
yes mom i have everything
stop spamming or i’ll eat them all in the hallway
you practically skipped out of your room when the doorbell rang, bare feet padding across the cool floor, already rehearsing the dramatic “finally!” you were going to greet him with.
but then you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him.
chris was sitting on the couch, legs spread comfortably, elbows on his knees, thumbs flying across his phone screen with that same focused frown you’d seen a hundred times from across campus. he looked up when you froze in the doorway, and his expression softened instantly into that polite, disarming smile.
“hey,” he said, voice low and easy. his gaze flicked over you— quick, not lingering, but enough to make heat crawl up your neck anyway. you were suddenly hyper-aware of the thin strap slipping off one shoulder, the way the shorts rode up your thighs when you shifted.
“sooha’s not here,” you voiced your first thought, because apparently your brain had forgotten the concept of small talk.
“oh, yeah i know,” he looked sheepish.
no matter what complicated feelings you had about him and sooha, you still knew chris was a good person, who was oblivious to whatever was shared between you and his girlfriend.
and standing there alone with him now, you felt a pang of guilt for how thoroughly you had been avoiding him on campus these past weeks, your eyes finding everyone but his when he waved or smiled at you from across the room.
“sorry for coming here unannounced,” he continued, “but—”
the doorbell rang again, cutting him off, followed almost immediately by seungmin’s unmistakable voice.
“yah, did you die or something? open up before i eat all your snacks! don’t test me!”
you laughed despite yourself, the tension cracking like thin ice as you excused yourself, hurrying to the door.
“i had literally been standing here for, like, three hours,” seungmin complained as soon as you opened the door, his hands reaching to loosen the tie he was still wearing from his part-time job. then suddenly his expression shifted, eyes sliding past you to the living room. “chan hyung? what are you doing here?”
“chan… what?” you echoed faintly, stepping aside to let him in, your brain short-circuiting at how easily that nickname had rolled off seungmin’s tongue.
chris looked up, surprised, then grinned wide. “minnie?”
seungmin stepped fully inside, kicking the door shut behind him, eyes darting between you and chris like he was trying to solve a math problem in real time.
you moved on autopilot, taking the bags from seungmin’s hands and mumbling, “i’ll just… put these in my room,” before you heard the two of them exchange a few words, laughter spilling out effortlessly. you softly clicked your bedroom door shut behind you and leaned against it for a second, breathing.
what the actual fuck?
a few moments later the knob turned. seungmin slipped inside, eyes comically wide, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper the second the latch caught.
“when you said sooha’s horny ass boyfriend was chris, you meant chan hyung?” he was unsure whether he found this funny or horrifying.
“how do you know your chan hyung anyway?” you huffed, somehow feeling annoyed at this new information as you plopped down on the edge of your bed, arms crossed over your chest.
“we used to go to the same high school... was in the same friend group for a while,” he said with a soft smile, his eyes drifting to the way your breasts looked pushed up for a split second. “and we had a few classes together this semester, too,”
he didn’t mention the part where they’d fucked girls in the same room, sometimes at the same time.
“well then how come you never mentioned this friend of yours?” you muttered. your annoyance hid something worse; embarrassment.
seungmin shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “i mean… i don’t know, you never asked? he’s just someone, y’know? it just never came up.”
he dragged your desk chair over and sat facing you, knees almost touching yours. the easy teasing from earlier was gone; now he was watching you carefully, like he could see the embarrassed flush creeping up your cheeks and the way your fingers found the hem of your tank top, an obvious nervous tick.
you huffed, trying to play it off. “great. so i’ve been ranting to you about this guy for weeks, and you’re just… casually friends with him. fan-fucking-tastic.”
seungmin’s mouth twitched, fighting a smile. “to be fair, you never said his name until like… a month in. plus, i think i know like, i don't know, three chris-es? c’mon. i just never connect the dots.”
you groaned, flopping backward onto the mattress, arms over your face. “i hate everything.”
he laughed fondly, shaking his head at your reaction. a silence washed over the room as he watched you, giving your thoughts room to drift back to months earlier, when it had all begun.
you and sooha were civil in the way strangers sharing a small space learn to be.
polite smiles. short conversations about laundry schedules and whose turn it was to take out the trash. you never fought, but you never clicked either. there was nothing to talk about, no shared humor, no late-night confessions. just co-existence.
and then there was chris.
you were strangers at first, your life more peaceful when you didn’t know of his existence.
but then one mundane day you saw him, laughing with his friends, and something about the way he just existed made everything else blur.
you only knew he was a semester ahead of you, nothing else, but ever since then, you seemed to find him everywhere.
the library steps. the cafe outside the campus. outside your lecture hall. he always smiled at you when your gazes met, not in a way that felt intrusive, just… warm. polite. but somehow intentional enough to feel that his eyes always found yours. enough to make your chest feel oddly tight every time.
a few nights later, you told sooha, the day a blur of cheap alcohol and lowered defenses. your living room smelled like spilled soju and burnt popcorn, and the music from someone else’s room thudded through the walls. you remember sitting cross-legged on the couch, both of you giggling at nothing, courage borrowed from the green bottles.
“you know chris, the one with the australian accent? i think i have the biggest crush on that man. he's soo fine,” you giggled between hiccups, the first time you had admitted that fact to yourself.
sooha had gone quiet, just looked at you with those unreadable eyes, then shrugged. “cool.”
you'd laughed it off, feeling happy with your first genuine interaction with your roommate, and had passed out on your bed still in your jeans.
and then the next day, head heavy from the hangover and clothes sticking to your body, you found chris on your living room couch.
kissing sooha.
chris's eyes flicked to you for half a second— surprise, maybe guilt— before sooha pulled him back in deeper, choosing to ignore your presence.
you'd slammed your door as you retreated back into your room, hangover soup or a shower be damned. after that day, your secret stayed buried, known only to you.
that was the moment resentment took root. you told yourself that it was about loyalty. about boundaries. there was hatred, yes, but not just for her, although she carried the weight of it.
but if you were honest, the ache burned brighter whenever you saw him. for her getting to taste what you'd only daydreamed about. for the casual way she'd claimed something you'd never even had the courage to reach for.
at first, it was more than just the noise that annoyed you. it was the inconsideration, the timing, the way they never seemed to care if you were studying or trying to sleep. you complained about it endlessly, venting to seungmin, shoving headphones over your ears.
until one night, something shifted.
you were lying on your bed, laptop open, a movie playing that you had lost the plot to hours ago. and like clockwork, the sounds started again.
you waited for irritation to rise. for anger. for that familiar knot of resentment.
it didn’t come.
instead, for once, the noises weren't loud enough.
you shifted, thighs pressing together almost automatically. the bedframe started its steady rhythm—slow at first, then building. you could hear the hitch in her breathing, the way it caught and released. but your mind wasn't on her anymore.
it was on him. always.
your body moved without asking for permission, your cheek pressing against the door before you had even registered leaving the bed. there was a heat that didn’t belong, coiling low in your stomach. your thoughts turned traitor, slipping into places you hadn’t allowed them to go.
you hated it. you hated yourself for it. yet still, that didn’t stop you.
you fell to the ground as your hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts without thinking, without letting yourself think.
shame flared hot behind your eyes, but what was hotter was the way you imagined chris's hands, the same ones you'd seen gripping her waist that first day, sliding up your sides instead. his mouth on your neck, the plush lips giving you wet and sloppy kisses, marking you. his hips rolling into you with that same deliberate pace, making the frame knock just like that. the low groan you'd heard him make once or twice, rough and wrecked, vibrating through the wall and straight into your core.
your breath came shorter, fingers brushing over sensitive skin, already slick from nothing more than imagination and sound. it was humiliating how fast it built.
every thrust in the next room echoed in your head as if it were yours. suddenly his weight was pinning you down, fingers tangled in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp. “you enjoying this, huh?” he smirked, his voice making your core vibrate. he said your name, his lips touching your ears, his voice low, broken, and desperate.
you bit your lip to stay quiet, but a small whimper escaped anyway.
the rhythm picked up—faster, harder—and so did your hand, circling, pressing, chasing.
when you came, you let out a load moan, your body feeling limp and hot.
you opened your eyes and you saw no one but yourself on the mirror in front of you, your arousal staining the floor and your nipples hard against your tshirt, shorts abandoned somewhere near your ankles.
the emptiness of the room hit you like a shockwave; sharp, silent, shameful. you lay there afterward with heavy breaths, heart hammering, staring at the ceiling with wet fingers and burning cheeks.
you hated how good it felt.
you hated even more that you knew you'd do it again.
seungmin’s low laugh pulled you back to the present like a hand pulling you from under water.
you blinked, realizing you’d been staring at nothing—lost somewhere between the memory of that first humiliating night and the present, where your thighs were pressed so tightly together the muscle ached, your breathing shallow and uneven.
he was still sitting in the chair he’d dragged over, elbows on his knees, close enough that you could see the mole under his left eye, and the faint dusting of red on his cheeks and ears.
“your breathing’s all fucked up, angel” he said quietly, no teasing this time. just observation. clinical, almost. “and your thighs—” his gaze dropped deliberately to where your legs were clamped shut, then flicked back up to your face. “—are clenched so hard i’m afraid of what i’ll see when i push them apart.”
heat flooded your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy.
you opened your mouth to deny it, to laugh it off, to say anything that would make this moment less real— but nothing came out.
seungmin didn’t look away.
instead, the corner of his mouth lifted, just a fraction, just enough to make your stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
“do you listen?” he asked, voice so soft it barely carried. “when chan fucks her. when he gets loud. do you… listen in?”
“i—” you tried to say, but all that came out was a breathy gasp as seungmin put his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the mattress. his breath tickled your neck, and you shivered.
you’d always known seungmin was attractive. objectively, of course (or that's what you told yourself). the kind of attractiveness that made people do double-takes in the café line. the kind that used to make you stare at his fingers when he strummed his guitar, and maybe lose your breath when sometimes he would engulf you in a hug and you felt his hard muscles press against your soft skin.
but you never let those thoughts linger, no matter how hard that was for you, because losing him would gut you worse than any crush ever could.
you stared at him now— really stared— and saw the boy who’d held your hair back after too many shots, who’d stayed up until dawn helping you cram for midterms, who’d once driven across town at 2 a.m. because your voice cracked on the phone and you couldn’t say why.
but right now, with his face buried in your neck, pupils dark and steady, that careful boundary felt paper-thin.
“seungmin,” you whispered, hands clutching his arm to… push him away? but your hands stayed in place, involuntarily giving his arm a squeeze to ground yourself.
on hearing your fragile voice, seungmin pulled back a bit, and your body instinctively arched forward at the absence of his warmth.
he searched your eyes for a moment. “you’ve been disturbed by their noise for so fucking long.” he said, voice just as low, “maybe it’s time you gave him a taste of his own medicine, angel.”
your breath faltered at his proposition, the weight of what he was implying settling between you. but before the words could fully sink in, his mouth finally found the side of your neck.
a surprised, sharp gasp tore out of you. his lips were warm, soft at first, then firmer as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss just under your jaw. heat exploded under your skin like someone had struck a match. your hands flew to his shoulders—not pushing, just… holding on.
he pulled back again just enough to meet your eyes, a slight frown at your tense reactions.
“hey,” he said, voice rougher yet somehow softer now. “this doesn’t have to change anything between us. this is just me… helping my best friend take some revenge.” his thumb brushed your cheek, gentle, even if his gaze burned. “if you don’t want this, any of it, tell me to stop. tell me and i’ll stop right now.”
your mouth was dry. your whole body felt like it was vibrating.
you searched his face, looking for the joke, the safety net, the signs of mirth on his face after he would prank you. it wasn’t there.
all you saw was him. waiting. wanting.
but still giving you the power to end it.
but you were just a girl, with a stupidly attractive best friend whom you trusted more than yourself.
“don’t stop,” you whispered, your lips desperately reaching for his. you felt him smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, and he kissed like he had been wanting this for years. like he wasn’t just helping you get revenge.
his mouth found your collarbone again, and the way he groaned gave you an inkling that maybe the times he had stared at your neck was not him just admiring your necklaces. suddenly, you felt something sharp—his hand pulled a fistful of your hair to gain better access— and you expected to feel pain at his rough actions, but instead, you let out the loudest moan.
outside the room, you heard a thud, as if something had fallen.
“that’s right, baby,” seungmin smirked, giving your hair another pull. “you’ve got to scream for me tonight, show him what he’s been missing,”
seungmin’s hands were firm on your hips as he pushed you back onto the mattress, the springs dipping under your combined weight as he lay your head on the pillow. you landed with a soft bounce, breath catching, and before you could even process the shift, he was hovering over you, knees bracketing your thighs, one palm planted beside your head, caging you in without touching you anywhere you desperately wanted him to yet.
his eyes were dark, amused, predatory in a way you’d never seen directed at you before. the boy who used to steal your fries and fall asleep on your shoulder during movie marathons was gone— in his place was someone who looked like he’d been waiting to unravel you for longer than you’d ever suspected.
you tried to steady your breathing, tried to look at anything but at his face, only for your gaze to snag on the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, the faint sheen of sweat already gathering at his throat.
then he moved.
he shifted to the side, reaching for your nightstand drawer with casual familiarity, like he’d done it a hundred times before. the drawer scraped open and your stomach dropped.
no. no fucking way.
“you think i don’t know about this?” he pulled it out slowly—your slim, purple vibrator, the one you kept buried under chargers and old files like it was national secrets. the same one you’d used on those nights when chris’ low groans had pushed you over the edge faster than you cared to admit.
seungmin held it up between two fingers, turning it lazily so the light caught the smooth surface. then he looked back at you, smirking, looking triumphant.
your face was already burning, but the heat that rushed through you now felt nuclear. you wanted to disappear into the mattress, wanted to snatch it from him. you wanted—fuck—you wanted him to keep looking at you like that.
“you’re not as slick as you think you are, angel” he murmured, voice low and velvet-smooth. his thumb flicked the base once—just once—and the toy buzzed to life for a split second before he clicked it off again. “i’ve heard it through the wall more times than i can count.”
your mouth fell open. no sound came out.
he leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “every time you think you’re being quiet? every time you bite your pillow so hard and think i can’t hear?” he dragged the cool tip of the vibrator lightly down your chest, grazing your hard nipple over the thin tank top. you arched without meaning to. “i know exactly what you sound like when you come, baby. and i know you’ve thought about me fucking you just as much as you’ve thought about chan.”
a whimper slipped out before you could stop it. seungmin pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again. his smile was slow, filthy.
“such a little slut,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “getting off to the sound of your roommate getting railed. using this pathetic thing while you pretend it’s his cock instead.” he pressed the vibrator against your inner thigh—still off, just the promise of it making your skin crawl—and dragged it upward in a lazy line.
“but tonight? tonight you’re gonna make noise for real. loud enough that chan can’t pretend he doesn’t hear. loud enough that he’ll lie there next to her wondering who’s making his sweet little neighbor sound like she’s being ruined.”
your thighs trembled. you couldn’t look away from him. “min…”
he clicked the vibrator on—lowest setting—and settled it against the damp cotton of your shorts, directly over your swollen clit. the thin fabric dragged deliciously against you with every tiny buzz, giving the sweetest friction, but also the worst kind of tease, because it still kept him so far away that your hips already ached to shove the barrier aside.
you gasped, sharp,and involuntary, and seungmin’s free hand shot up to cover your mouth, thumb pressing against your bottom lip.
“uh-uh,” he whispered. “not yet. save it. i want him to hear every fucking sound you make when i finally let you fall apart.”
he dragged the toy in slow, torturous circles, watching your face the entire time, watching the way your brows knit, the way your hips jerked despite yourself.
“tell me,” he said, voice rougher now. “tell me you want him to hear how wet you get for me. tell me you want him to get jealous.”
your head thrashed once against the pillow, the words stuck in your throat, thick with shame and need.
seungmin leaned in, lips grazing yours, just a tease. “say it,” he breathed. “or i stop.”
you swallowed. your voice came out wrecked, barely there. “i… i want him to hear.”
“hear what?”
“how wet you make me, min,” you cried out, desperate for more. “i want him to hear how wet i get for you.”
seungmin’s eyes flashed. “good girl.”
with one hand, he reached for his tie, and the sight of him taking it off was enough to make you cum. he caught your wrists in his hands, tying them with the satin fabric before turning the vibrator up a notch.
and then he kissed you again, claiming, while his other hand shoved your shorts and panties aside just enough to press the toy directly against your bare skin.
the first real moan tore out of you before you could stop it. loud. unmistakable.
“that’s it baby, make him hear how much you enjoy being heard.” seungmin felt it. the way your hips jerked up against the vibrator. the way your thighs trembled around his knee. he chuckled.
“oh, you like that, don’t you,” he said, almost sweetly. “you like knowing he’s right there, hearing you fall apart for someone else.” he clicked the vibrator up one more setting. the buzz intensified, ripping a sharp gasp from your throat before you could swallow it down.
“louder,” he ordered, pressing the toy firmer, grinding it in tight circles that made your vision blur at the edges. “come on, show me how much of a whore you are.”
you whimpered, high and needy, and seungmin’s free hand slid up to cup your throat, not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you know who’s in control.
“minnie… ah, seungmin, i’m so close,” you were surprised at your ability to form words, for all that was currently occupying your brain was seungmin, seungmin, seungmin.
it was all to much, the buzz of the vibrator hitting your swollen clit, his hands around your throat and your inability to do anything. and worse of all? the way he was looking at you.
“not yet,” he turned the vibrator off, throwing it aside. you cried out, your needy whimpers making him smirk. he removed your shorts and panties, and his eyes seemed hypnotised by the way your juices were spilling out, already making a wet spot on your bedsheet.
“look at you,” he breathed, and for the first time that night, he was the one who looked speechless.
in an instant, his mouth was on your cunt, his tongue making patterns on your wet walls that made you see stars. as if that weren’t enough, without warning he pushed his finger inside you, making you scream, fighting against the restraints your hands were tied in.
“such a fucking slut,” he murmered, the vibrations of his voice against your skin making your hips jerk. “getting wet at the thought of him hearing you, aren’t you? picturing him on the other side of the wall while you leak all over my face like a desperate little whore.”
your breath hitched, and you felt fresh heat flood between your legs at the words. you wanted to deny it, to close your thighs, anything to hide how true it was, but your body betrayed you: another involuntary roll of your hips chasing the pressure, a tiny, broken sound slipping out before you could stop it.
he chuckled, dark and knowing, his free hand coming up to push your tank top aside and grip your breast, giving your nipple a firm squeeze. “yeah, there it is. listen to yourself. bet you’d come even harder if he knocked right now, didn’t you? if he walked in and saw what a pathetic, cock-hungry mess you turn into the second someone teases this slutty cunt.”
he inserted another finger inside you, and your back arched off the bed with a choked moan. your cheeks burned; shame and arousal twisted so tight in your stomach you could barely breathe. you shook your head weakly, no, no, that’s too much, you wanted to say, but your hips kept grinding, the sound of his digits pumping in and out of your slick folds filling the room.
“tell me exactly what you want him to hear. go on, paint the picture for me, you desperate fucking whore. do you want him to hear you moaning my name? begging for cock like the needy bitch you are? or—” his voice dropped even lower, lips coming up to brush yours as he spoke, “—do you want him to hear you be ruined? scream it loud enough that he knows exactly what a dripping, shameless slut is in the other room?”
your hips bucked once, twice, chasing harder pressure you weren’t allowed to have yet. shame burned hot in your cheeks, your chest, but it only made you wetter, slicker, more frantic.
he felt it. of course he did. “don’t you dare hold back now,” he growled, nose brushing yours. “say it. tell me you want him to hear you come so hard the bed shakes. tell me you want him to know you’re getting off thinking about his cock while i play with your greedy little hole. use your fucking words, angel,”
your throat worked, lips trembling as another helpless roll of your hips grounded his fingers deeper against you. any remnant of denial was gone; only raw, humiliating need left.
“i… i want him to hear me come,” you whispered, voice cracking, barely above a breath. “fuck, min— i want him to hear how loud i get… how wet i get for you… how much i need… how much i need your cock inside me,”
your eyes fluttered shut for a second, mortified, but your body kept moving—small, desperate thrusts against his fingers like you couldn’t stop even if you tried.
he laughed softly, cruel and pleased, rewarding you with a rougher pace and another finger that ripped a choked moan from your throat.
“good girl. that’s my nasty fucking slut.” he murmured, lips grazing your ear again. “keep going. tell me you’d let him listen every night if i told you to. tell me you’d spread these legs wider just so he could hear how filthy you really are.”
“i… i would,” your breath came in short, ragged gasps now, thighs quivering, clit throbbing. you were shaking now, teetering right on the edge, humiliated and so unbearably turned on you could cry. “p-please seungmin, i’m so close,” you moaned, your voice hoarse from your screams. “please, let me cum,”
“you’ve deserved it baby,” he chuckled, his tongue finding your clit again. “cum for me, my filthy little angel,” he commanded, voice thick with satisfaction as he sucked your clit between his lips, humming deep so the buzz traveled everywhere. “don’t you dare hold back. scream it—loud enough for him to hear every fucking second of how wrecked you get for me. let the whole damn apartment know what a desperate, dripping slut you turn into when i own this pussy.”
your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. the coil snapped hard, white-hot pleasure ripping through you in violent waves. your back arched off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as a raw, broken scream tore from your throat: his name, over and over, ragged and shameless, repeated like the only prayer you knew. “fuck—seungmin! yes—fuck! yes!”
each pulse of your orgasm milked more slick from you, coating his tongue, his chin, the sheets beneath. you shook uncontrollably, fingers twisting in the restraints, your thighs around his head pulling him closer even as overstimulation made you whimper.
tears pricked your eyes from the intensity, cheeks burning with the fresh wave of humiliation—he’d made you loud, made you obvious, and god, it only made the aftershocks hit harder.
he didn’t let up right away, lapping lazily through the mess as you trembled, murmuring against your oversensitive flesh. “that’s it… good girl… screaming like the needy whore that you are.”
the aftershocks still rippled through you in slow, lingering waves. your body felt molten, legs splayed open, chest heaving, seungmin’s tie still circling your wrists, no longer tight, loosened by every restless movement you’d made. the sheets beneath you were a mess, damp and cooling where your release had soaked through. seungmin’s mouth was slick with you, chin glistening as he finally lifted his head, eyes dark and shining with satisfaction.
he crawled up your body slowly, deliberately, pressing soft, wet kisses along your stomach, your throat, the corner of your mouth. “fuck,” he breathed against your lips, voice wrecked and soft. “you sounded so pretty screaming my name like that. think the whole building heard.”
you managed a shaky laugh, half sob, too overwhelmed to form words. your clit still throbbed faintly from overstimulation, every tiny shift of your hips sending sparks up your spine.
seungmin kissed you properly then, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, with one hand tenderly caressing your cheek. when he pulled back, his thumb brushed over your swollen bottom lip.
“i’m gonna get you some water, okay?” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “and maybe clean you up a little before round two. don’t move.”
he slipped off the bed with that easy grace of his, and paused at the door, glancing back at you— spread out, flushed, wrecked— and his mouth curved into something dangerously sweet.
“stay right there, angel. i’ll be back in two minutes.”
the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. as you forced yourself to take deep breaths, trying to calm down, you tried to process exactly what had transpired between the two of you.
you had never thought this day would come— you, cumming on seungmin’s tongue and him, promising you a round two — but somewhere deep in your heart, you also felt that this was a long time coming.
he had told you at the beginning that things between you didn’t have to change after this, but after getting a taste of what you both could offer each other, you knew there was no going back, and you couldn’t deny the excitement curling in your chest as you looked toward this new stage of your relationship.
but no matter how much you tried, there was still something at the back of your mind, or rather someone—
you heard footsteps. but not seungmin’s light, familiar steps; they were heavier, slower. hesitant.
and the breath caught in your chest as the door opened— and there stood chris.
he looked… wrecked. hair mussed like he’d run his hands through it too many times, shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, forearms tense. his eyes, dark, pupils dilated, locked onto you immediately. they dragged down your body: the hickeys blooming on your neck and chest, the tie still loosely binding your wrists, your legs parted just enough that he could see the slick mess between them, the wet spot darkening the sheets. your brain told you to sit up, to cover yourself, but your body was too tired. and your heart? well…
chris didn’t speak at first, just swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing. his chest rose and fell like he’d sprinted here, as if he hadn’t just been sitting a few feet away, his ears picking up on every little whisper.
“i—” his voice came out rough, cracked. “i… heard everything.”
the shame that should have crashed over you instead twisted into something hotter, sharper. your thighs trembled under his stare.
he took one step inside. then another. the door swung shut behind him with a soft click. he took a seat on the chair seungmin was occupying, not saying a word.
“baby,” he breathed, his hands on the mattress, as if touching you was something he hadn’t earned yet. “you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
you squirmed under his gaze, happy to finally see him look at you the way you had always wanted, but there was something stopping you from truly enjoying his stare, from telling him to come over and ruin you.
“what about…?” your voice trembled, trying to make sense with whatever strength you had left in you.
his smile almost wrecked you. “i broke up with her weeks ago. she asked me to come get a few of my things today, that’s why she went out,” he whispered, his voice vibrating through your whole body. “i couldn’t continue the relationship… how could i, when even when i’m with her, my mind always wandered to the room next door?”
“what?” you regretted not being friends with sooha, because then you could’ve known this vital piece of information ages ago. “but i thought… i thought it was you in her room yesterday… doing… y’know?” you blushed before you could complete the sentence, feeling shy despite the fact that you were literally lying naked in front of him and that he had probably heard you say worse things in the past hour.
“did you see me?” he smirked as you shook your head no, getting up on the mattress, his face inching closer to yours with each words. “or did you hope… did you imagine it was me, each time you heard her get railed. or worse… did you imagine yourself in her place? did you imagine yourself getting fucked,” his breath tickled your cheek, so close yet too far apart. “by me?”
up close, he smelled like clean sweat and something woodsy— his cologne, the one you’d caught whiffs of in passing for months. his eyes flickered to your bound wrists, then back to your face.
“seungmin tied you up?” his voice was low, strained. almost primal.
you nodded once, barely. chan’s hand hovered near your cheek, hesitant, then gently brushed a strand of damp hair from your forehead. the touch was so careful it made your chest ache.
“did he make you come like that?” he asked, thumb tracing the edge of one hickey. “screaming loud enough for me to hear every second?”
another small nod. your lips parted, but no sound came. he leaned down slowly, giving you every chance to turn away.
instead, your back arched, wanting him to be closer.
his mouth found yours, tentative at first, like he was testing if this was real. then deeper, hungrier, tongue sliding against yours with a groan that vibrated through your whole body. one hand cupped the back of your head; the other slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip like he needed to anchor himself.
when he broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, breathing ragged.
“i’ve wanted this,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “every time i saw you on the couch, your bra strap fucking inviting me to snap it and hear you moan. i’ve wanted you ever since i saw you across campus, looking so damn angelic that you almost blinded me, doll.
“i’ve wanted you every time you looked away… i wanted to pin you against the wall and make you finally fucking look at me. really look, without your eyes drifting away.”
his hand slipped lower, fingers brushing the soaked mess between your thighs. you jolted, oversensitive, but arched into it anyway.
“seungmin got you this wet, huh?” he murmured, almost awed, circling your clit once, gentle, testing. you whimpered. “i gotta thank him for this then,” he smirked.
in a flash, he had rolled you over, pushing down on your head as he aligned your ass against his bulge. you shivered when your wet folds came in contact with the rough material of his jeans, and let out a loud moan as his hand landed on your cunt as a sharp slap.
“tell me to stop,” he said, echoing seungmin’s earlier words, but his voice was thicker, more desperate. “tell me, and i’ll leave right now, i promise.”
you met his eyes, dark, burning, pleading. “don’t stop, chan,” you whispered.
chan groaned at the way the nickname rolled out of your mouth, like the words had punched the air out of him.
he pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough, cock springing free, heavy, thick, already leaking at the tip. he fisted himself once, twice, eyes never leaving yours.
then he notched himself at your entrance, slow, careful despite the tremor in his arms.
you gasped as you felt his tip enter, already stretching you perfectly, the slight burn blending into pleasure so intense your toes curled.
“i’m gonna fill you up,” he rasped, pushing in inch by inch, your loud cries about him being too big, too much, falling on deaf ears. “gonna fuck you so good you forget anyone else ever touched you.”
with every firm thrust, you felt your bed frame thud against the wall, the sound of your fantasies coming alive making your head dizzy and your moans louder.
“louder,” he growled against your ear, voice wrecked. “scream for me like you did for him. let kim seungmin hear it when he comes back. let him know who’s ruining you now.”
your hands, still tied up, found you clit, as you erratically touched your swollen bud. “fuck, yes, yes! you’re filling me up so good, channie, oh fuck.”
the rhythm chan had set was brutal, deep, punishing strokes driving fresh, broken cries from your throat. you were loud, deliberately so now, moaning his name like a chant, letting it echo through the thin walls, through the cracked bedroom door.
“fuck—channie, yes, right there—harder, please—”
your voice cracked on every syllable, your brained so hazed that you didn’t even realise it at first when the door opened again.
seungmin stepped inside, two water bottles dangling loosely from his fingers, a warm washcloth in his other hand. he stopped in the doorway, eyes sweeping the scene: you face-down, ass up, chan buried to the hilt behind you, one hand fisted in your hair to keep your back arched, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.
as your face turned towards him, for one terrified heartbeat, you thought he would be angry, rightfully so, your brain chided you. you thought that the easy affection in his eyes would shatter, that he’d storm out, that everything would end here in shame and silence.
instead, Seungmin tilted his head.
a slow, lazy smirk curled his lips.
he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms casually, like he’d walked in on you eating snacks instead of getting railed within an inch of your life.
“didn’t know you were such a greedy little slut, angel,” he drawled, voice soft and amused. “one cock wasn’t enough?”
something about the way he was looking at you, not like he was surprised, but rather entertained, broke you in the best possible way.
your cunt clenched hard around chan, visceral and involuntary, and chan groaned low in his throat, hips stuttering for a second. seungmin noticed too, the way your eyes rolled back and the fingers on your clit when slack for a moment.
“fuck— she just squeezed me so tight,” chan rasped, glancing over at seungmin without slowing down. “think she likes this more than we thought.”
seungmin’s gaze flicked to you once again, your flushed face, your trembling thighs, the way your mouth hung open around desperate little gasps, and then back to Chan.
something wordless passed between them: a knowing look, a tiny nod, the kind of silent communication that only happens when two people have already decided the same thing long before walking into the room.
they weren’t surprised.
they weren’t jealous.
they were… prepared.
seungmin pushed off the doorframe and walked over slowly, setting the water bottles and cloth on the nightstand like this was just another tuesday. he stopped right in front of your face, fingers sliding under your chin to tilt your head up so you had to look at him while chan kept fucking into you from behind.
“look at you, such a desperate little cumslut,” seungmin murmured, almost sweetly. his fingers brushed your cheek, then trailed down to roughly squeeze your breasts, another hand came up to your mouth, thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. you whimpered around the pressure of his thumb slipping into your mouth. your tongue curled instinctively around it.
“greedy little whore. all tied up and drooling already. you really couldn’t wait two minutes for me to come back before you let hyung stuff you full, huh?” you whimpered—half apology, half plea—as chan drove in particularly deep, making your whole body jolt.
seungmin murmured, chan chuckled darkly, slapping your ass for good measure as he slowed his thrusts just enough to make you whine in frustration.
“she’s been loud,” he said conversationally, like he was discussing the weather. “kept moaning my name— channie this, channie that. thought you might want to hear it up close.”
seungmin’s fondly rolled his eyes as he smirked at chan, his eyes darkening with satisfaction.
“oh, i heard,” he said softly. “every filthy little sound.” he pulled his thumb free with a wet pop, smearing your own spit across your cheek. “but i think she can be louder, can’t you, baby?”
he unbuckled his belt with one hand while his other hand fisted the base of his cock, already hard again from watching you get wrecked. in an instant, his shirt was also discarded, falling somewhere beside your tank top that you didn’t even realise had been taken off in your haze.
chan pulled out almost completely, leaving just the tip inside, making you sob at the sudden emptiness.
“open,” seungmin ordered.
your mouth fell open on instinct, tongue dipping out.
he slid in slowly, inch by inch, until your nose brushed his pelvis and your throat fluttered around him. you gagged softly, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but you didn’t pull away.
“good girl,” he praised, fisting your hair as he thrusted into your mouth in a rough shove. “take it all in.”
chan pushed back in at the same time, filling your cunt while seungmin fucked your mouth. the dual stretch, the rhythm, the way they moved in perfect tandem like they’d rehearsed this, sent your brain to complete, blissful ruin. no thoughts, no shame, only the primal need to be used, filled, and fucked stupid by both of them in perfect, cruel sync.
they talked over you like you weren’t even there, like you were just the perfect toy they’d finally decided to share.
“she’s so fucking tight,” chan groaned, hips snapping forward. “feel that? she’s clenching every time you bottom out in her throat.”
seungmin’s fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your head in shallow thrusts that matched chan’s pace.
“angel likes being used,” he murmured, almost tenderly. “look at her eyes, rolling back already. bet she’d come just from this. from being our fucking hole, made to be used only by us.”
your body agreed before your brain could catch up.
your cunt spasmed hard around chan, clit throbbing untouched now, and a muffled, desperate scream vibrated around seungmin’s cock as another orgasm ripped through you, sharp, blinding, humiliating in how easily they pulled it from you.
seungmin groaned at the feeling, hips jerking forward once, twice, before he pulled out just enough to let you gasp for air.
“again,” he said, feeling himself reach his limit. “come again while we’re both inside you. show hyung how greedy this pussy really is.”
chan’s hand cracked down on your ass, sharp and stinging, and you screamed again, louder, voice hoarse and wrecked.
they didn’t stop.
they just kept going, fucking you between them, filling every hole, praising and degrading you in the same breath, until you were nothing but trembling, overstimulated sensation and their names on your lips.
chan broke first, a low, guttural groan tore out of him as he buried himself deep and came hard, flooding your cunt with his thick cum. when he finally pulled out, his cum immediately seeped out, hot, obscene, trickling down your thighs, mixing with everything already leaking from you. he fisted his penis as more hot liquid flooded out, marking your back.
the sudden gush, the slick warmth coating your insides and dripping onto your back, snapped the last thread in you. you came again, violently, clenching around nothing, a choked sob ripping free as your whole body seized.
seungmin followed suit, and he gripped your jaw tighter, tilting your head back.
“open wider, angel, don’t you dare waste it.” he fucked your mouth in short, punishing thrusts until he spilled down your throat, thick and bitter and endless. you struggled to swallow around him, gulping desperately while he milked every last drop, hips stuttering, voice wrecked. “that’s it… drink it all like the good girl you pretend to be.”
when he finally eased out, strings of spit and cum still connected your lips to his tip. he wrapped long fingers around your throat, watching with dark, possessive eyes as you swallowed hard, throat working visibly. then he pressed two fingers against your tongue, dragging it out flat.
dazed, wrecked, stupidly proud, you stuck your tongue out further, showing him the mess you’d taken, lips swollen and glossy, a dazed little smile curling the corners even as tears streaked your cheeks.
seungmin’s thumb brushed your lower lip almost tenderly. “fuck… look at you,” his voice was soft now, completely different from when he was calling you a greedy slut. “ruined and still so pretty.”
chan’s hand slid up your spine, slow and grounding, as he leaned down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss between your shoulder blades.
both men drew back for a moment, giving you room to sink bonelessly onto the sheets, chest heaving in the sudden, fragile quiet.
“yeah, just like that princess,” chan whispered, “deep breaths.”
seungmin climbed on the bed, laying down facing you, and he folded out his arm, inviting you.
you giggled as you settled against his hard chest, and he engulfed you in a warm embrace, caressing your hair and trailing soft kisses over your cheeks. “you’re okay, right? did we go too far?” his eyes searched yours, concerned. you shook your head earnestly, caressing his cheek.
“you did so good, princess,” chan whispered, hands massaging your ass, softening the red marks he had left. “so perfect for us.”
chan then reached for the washcloth seungmin had left on the nightstand and began cleaning you with careful, gentle strokes. the damp fabric glided over the sticky mess on your inner thighs, between your folds, wiping away the evidence of how thoroughly they’d used you. his touch was soft, almost worshipful, thumb occasionally brushing soothing circles over the sensitive skin as you hummed in satisfaction.
after a moment, chan settled beside you on the bed, his larger frame curving protectively around your back while seungmin stayed pressed to your front, caging you gently between their warmth. chan’s hand found your arm, stroking slow and firm from shoulder to wrist, grounding you as your pulse still hammered beneath your skin.
you bit your lip hard enough to taste the faint copper of it. slowly, you eased out of seungmin’s loose embrace just enough to lift your head and meet both their eyes; first chan’s steady gaze, then seungmin’s softer, searching one. the question clawed its way up your throat, small and scared.
“are you guys… sure you’re okay with this?” your voice came out barely above a whisper, trembling on the edges. “that i might want you both just as much?”
you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until their low, shared chuckle rumbled through you.
“we want you, and want to take care of you princess,” chan said simply, no hesitation, a wave of understanding passing between him and seungmin. “both of us. and we’re not gonna make you choose. ever.”
seungmin hummed in agreement, nuzzling into your hair.
“your needs come first,” he added softly. “always. and if you want both of us, then that’s what you’ll get. no jealousy. no games. just us taking care of you.”
chan leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, gentle this time, full of everything unspoken. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft, steady.
“we’re not going anywhere,” he promised. “you’re ours, and we’re yours. however you want us.”
and since then, the noises continued, only now you had zero complaints.
peach notes: lowk regretting the fact that kim seungmin was not inside her, but i felt too tired to write more lol. also, can you tell that i'm a fucking whore for the both of them? 😮💨 no lube no protection and allat. sorry if chan's part felt too rushed, lowkenuinely entered flow-state writing min's parts. (#need that) ( pls don't ask me abt if min went to freakin antartica to melt a glacier to get her the water lol, nothing about this is logical anyway, honestly i just needed them to fuck by that point, i'm just a girl ┐(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)┌ )
and wdym there's more than a 100 (hundred!!?) of you here already!!1? thats insane, i could kiss u all. and i'm really overwhelmed by the love you've given me on my first post, truly thank you so much, i'm so grateful to each of you who reblogged and/or left a comment. pls feel free to drop by and send an ask to lmk your thoughts or literally anything, i would love to chat with you all <3
you'll see me next in march, unfortunately exam szn doesn't let me be horny 💔
first time writing in forever!! ah 😭 i warmed up with head canons and one of my favourite things: sub men! <3 i was struggling with Seungmin and I.N tho 💔 but lowk Seungmin’s was fun to write 😋 also first time writing for a new fandom, was so scared to post this. it was rotting in my drafts for two days 😅
⚜️ʙᴀɴɢᴄʜᴀɴ
— reluctant sub , pretty crier
His hands clenched at his sides, uneven breaths and moans spilling from his mouth as your hand worked up and down his cock. His other hand clutching the fabric of your shirt as you littered soft, intimate kisses over his tear-streaked face. Which, in your opinion, was beautiful streaked in tears from overstimulation. “I needed this, thank you-“ He mumbled before a choked moan escaped his lips, hand flicking over the sensitive tip of his cock. His hips jerking involuntarily up into your hand. “Oh god-“ He moaned, before his lips find yours, silencing any further moans that he may let out.
— embarrassed , thanks you a lot , may try to dom js from what he’s used to
⚜️ʟᴇᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ
— bratty sub , will continuously push ur limits
He held in his moans as your hand worked fast and rough on his cock, having tested your patience one too many times today. His hands were lazily tied behind him. He could’ve been able to break them if it weren’t for how weak you made him. “You’re so cute,” You chuckled, smug grin on your face as you admired his flush face. hair sticking to his forehead, entire body blushed a soft pink. He looked amazing, if only he could shut up occasionally. “Shut up..” Was all he could mutter, giving you a glare through half-lidded eyes, before they widened again as you tightened your grip punishingly around his cock. “Excuse me?” You hummed. “I’m sorry i’m sorry-“
— tsundere personality at times , tries to act unaffected but fails miserably , you can break him pretty easily :)
⚜️ᴄʜᴀɴɢʙɪɴ
— eager/service sub , gets off on you getting off
“Oh— is this exactly what you wanted?” He asked, shaky breaths and low moans filling the room. His eyes shifted from where your hand tugged and wrist flicked over his cock, to where your body sat prettily atop his thighs. His hands were tied behind his back with pink ribbon you had, decorating his arms perfectly. Something about his strong, muscular frame being tied up and completely bare turned you on even more than you thought it would. “Even better than what i wanted.” You said, giggling slightly. Shifting your weight more onto his thighs, grinding down for friction against your barely covered, soaked cunt. Changbin couldn’t help but throw his back against the pillow, moan leaving his lips, at dual pleasure of watching you using his thigh to get off and your hand desperately tugging at his cock.
— absolutely adores watching you get off , you using him for nothing but your pleasure is one of his favourite things !
⚜️ʜʏᴜɴᴊɪɴ
— dramatic 'n romantic sub , expressive
“You’re beautiful.” He breathed as your lips broke apart for a second of breath. Loud, whiny breaths escaping his lips as you worked his cock. Your grip gentle but firm. Hyunjin’s hands ran up and down your body, gripping wherever he felt like. “So are you.” You hummed with a giggle, admiring how he looked; Hair sprawled out against the pillow, toned body flushed, bare and slick with sweat, kiss-swollen lips, and entire body reacting to your touch on his cock. “Only for you.” He grinned. You couldn’t help but chuckle before capturing his lips against yours again.
— knows he looks good , wants you to know how pretty you look as well , touchy
⚜️ʜᴀɴ
— baby sub , squirms a lot
“Stop moving.” Your tone is sharp and annoyed, free hand grabbing his wrists and holding his arms out of the way. He couldn’t help it. Your grip on his cock hard ‘n rough, and he was still recovering from his last orgasm. Breaths quick and uneven as he moaned into your neck. “‘M sorry..” he whined, hips twitching away from your touch while chasing your touch at the same time. “Wait- wait-“ He gasped, your hand flicking over his sensitive tip. You just grinned. “Close again already?” You teased. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re about to cum twice.” He couldn’t even form a proper response. Only response you could get from him was a whine.
— cums fast , hides his face , apologizes a lot even for things he doesn’t need to
⚜️ꜰᴇʟɪx
— sweet service sub , doesn’t lean deep into sub/dom dynamics
The moans of both you and Felix filled your guys’ dimly lit bedroom. Only light coming from the tv. Your hand working on his cock in steady strokes. His higher-pitched whimpers both arousing and adorable. One of Felix’s hands roamed your body gently, while his other hand alternating between fingering you and rubbing your clit. Placing soft kisses on your neck. He gasped as you tightened your grip on his cock, pulling a high pitched, pathetic mix of a whine and a moan from his mouth. Momentarily halting his movements. You shot him a warning look, pouting, pushing back against his hand. “Don’t stop,” You whined, grip tightening even more around his cock. He groaned, but a small smile played at his lips as he nodded, doing exactly as you told him to do.
— vocal , obedient , more vanilla ‘n sweet situations with him
⚜️ꜱᴇᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ
— sarcastic sub , holds back sounds ‘till he can’t
“I don’t beg.” Was what Seungmin said with an eye roll. He had a sassy mouth for someone whose bark was bigger than his bite. “Please- let me cum..” Seungmin whined, head lolling pathetically to the side, resting against your shoulder as his half-lidded eyes watched in frustration as your hand left his cock throbbing ‘n aching again. His hips attempting to chase your touch. You had edged him his last three, almost orgasms. He was dying to cum, even if it meant he had to go against his earlier words and beg you to let him cum. “I thought you don’t beg?” Your tone was low and teasing. He could practically hear your smug smirk. About to snap back with a sassy remark before your hand slapped across his cheek, the impact taking him off guard and turning him on. “Loser. Keep begging f’me.”
— pathetic if you edge him , insults you even as he actively falls apart , loves rough and degrading treatment
⚜️ɪ.ɴ
— experimental ‘n competitive sub , needs to hold something when overwhelmed
It started off simple: you wanted to try edging. I.N agreed and swore he could handle it. “I’m not that sensitive- i’ll be able to handle it.” His words, exact. Now here he was clinging to your thigh while your hands started to work his cock again. Denying his orgasm a second time. His cock swollen ‘n red, precum slowly dripping down from his pretty tip. “You ok?” You asked, chuckling as his hands grip on your thigh tightened when your hand flicked over his sensitive tip. “I thought you weren’t sensitive,” You teased light-heartedly. “I’m not-“ he denied even as his body said otherwise. Hips twitching. “K-keep going..” He mumbled. “I can handle it.”
— can be competitive with himself , lowk loves torturing himself , tends to get cocky till u put him back in his place
Summary: You and your best friend Hyunjin became friends with benefits some time ago when one afternoon while waiting for him to come home, you find something that changes everything.
Pairing: idol!Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: alluded to sex but nothing shown, naked portraits very briefly described, fluff, love confession
WC: 1.3k
A/N: I dunno, y’all, I just needed some fluff and artist Hyunjin, so here we are.
Masterlist
You wandered Hyunjin’s bedroom as you waited for him to get home. You’d always loved his room – there was something soothing about his space that you could never quite name. Still, despite the soothing nature of his room, you were restless while you waited, the livestream of his and the rest of the members’ arrival playing from your phone on his bed providing background noise.
As you turned, his art cabinet – one side an open set of shelves, the other side with a door and both sides full of all his art supplies, in-progress works, and finished works – caught your attention. Frequently, he’d shown you his recent finished works as well as the things he was working on. He’d also told you that you were welcome to look through his works whenever you wanted, so you were very familiar with the cabinet’s set up.
The thing that caught your attention was a new-to-you sketchbook with an unfamiliar canvas beside it. You debated with yourself for a few minutes. The sketchbook had obviously been used, you just couldn’t recall seeing it before. It was a brown leather wrapped notebook, and the leather looked soft and well worn enough that you could see the spiral binding imprinted against it. Which meant, to your mind, that this was something he frequently used. So why hadn’t you seen it before? And more importantly, did that blanket permission to look at his work extend to this mysterious notebook and the canvas that, you felt sure, went with it?
After a while, you decided that the permission did extend to these two things. Partly because he hadn’t mentioned the book as being off limits, and partly because he’d left them on the shelf and not tucked away in the enclosed side of the cabinet. Carefully, not wanting to damage anything, you pulled both objects from their spot on the shelf and nearly dropped to the ground out of surprise. Instead, you stumbled on unsteady legs until you collapsed onto his bed.
The canvas is you. In a work that looks like it took hours over multiple days, he’d painted your profile, mid-laugh. You thought, judging by the angle, that you were probably laughing at something he’d been saying because your face was turned slightly toward the viewer, which you assumed was Hyunjin’s point of view. The background was vague and hazy, but you were pretty sure that to get this level of detail, he had to have used a photograph and not just memory. You stared at your own laughing face for a little while, blown away by the thought of how much work had to have gone into it.
You knew his work, you knew he typically didn’t do photo-realism. Not like this, at least. He was capable, you’d seen it before. But he always said that the level of detail required too much time and while he could spend that much time on a single work, he usually felt like he had too much he wanted to create to focus on only one thing for that long.
After another few moments, you set the canvas carefully beside you, picking up the sketchbook. Embossed on the front was the word 'Muse'. You untied the leather strap and opened it. The first page was you again. Just a simple pencil sketch of you smiling. You flipped slowly through the book, learning that it had to be one of those multi-media sketch pads, which you knew he favored, because you came across a couple of watercolors of yourself. Sometimes in profile, sometimes looking right out at the viewer. One of the watercolors was of you in your bathing suit on a beach, though you couldn’t tell or remember where.
Then, about a third of the way through, you gasped in shock. This drawing was of you naked and on your back, arms slightly above your head, one of his hands entwined with yours, and a look of bliss on your face. One of the first times you’d slept together, you assumed. It was just from the ribs up, but once again the details stole your breath. The next was a similar pose, but in colored charcoal this time. After that, every few portraits featured you naked, usually just after the two of you had sex, some significantly raunchier than others like the one of your tits covered in his cum and some surprisingly sweet like one of you in the shower.
You didn’t need to think about what this meant, not really. You could feel it, as if every page was screaming it at you. Hyunjin – your best friend, your friend-with-benefits, your one constant – was in love with you. You wondered when it had happened, how long he’d loved you. None of the portraits were dated so you couldn’t judge by that. None of the portraits had defined backgrounds so there weren’t any clues there either.
There was also no question as to what would happen when Hyunjin got home. You’d only agreed to the friends-with-benefits arrangement because you were already in love with him.
So engrossed in his sketchbook, you hadn’t noticed how much time was passing, nor had you heard the apartment’s front door open. It wasn’t until you heard the thud of Hyunjin’s suitcase hitting the floor that you looked up.
“Y/N, I can explain. I… well, um….”
You stood the second you saw him, taking in his wide eyes as you quickly set the sketchbook down and strode across the room to him. You cupped both his cheeks with your hands and leaned in close. “You should have told me," you said softly. You leaned in, sliding your hands around to the back of his neck and pressing a gentle kiss to each cheek.
“I thought…. We agreed that…,” he muttered, eyes fluttering as you kept pressing soft kisses to the bridge of his nose, his forehead, his jaw.
“I know. Looks like we both lied.”
His hands found their place on your hips, gripping firmly and pulling you flush against him. “Both?” his eyes searched yours, hopeful and hesitant all at once.
“Mm,” you nodded. “I love you.”
Tears sprang to his eyes and he dropped his forehead to yours. “Once more, please?”
You grinned. “I love you, Hwang Hyunjin. Have for ages.”
He tilted his head, capturing your lips in a light kiss, then another. “I love you too, Y/N,” he said against your lips, leaning in for a longer, hungrier kiss.
~~~
Hours later, you laid across Hyunjin’s bed, well sated and in that lovely half-asleep, post sex state. Sat in his desk chair, Hyunjin had a brand new sketchpad open. His gaze raked over your body and you smiled a slow, lazy smile.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just… mm, like the way you look at me,” you answered, blinking slowly as you tried to stay awake while he worked. “Feels… different when you’re drawing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm-hm,” you nodded a little. You didn’t really have the words to describe the way it felt. You were used to him looking at you with lust, or as used to it as possible. You were used to the fondness he’d always had since the two of you became friends in school. But this artistic appreciation coupled with lust and maybe something else was new to you. Or, new to your awareness anyway.
Hyunjin didn’t ask for more clarification, just smiled slightly as his pencil kept scratching over the paper. At some point not long after that, you fell asleep, only to be woken again when Hyunjin climbed into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You started to move, started to twist to look at him. “Ssh, back to sleep my love,” he muttered against the skin of your shoulder, pressing a kiss there. You sank into his embrace and back into sleep, perfectly content where you were.
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