Ours are the moments I play in the dark — Oh Sehun
sypnosis: you and him can pretend all you want, but you both know that he and you will come running right back to each other in the end. because he’s the only who gets you and no one can see him the way you do.
word count: 5.2k+ (i got a little carried away)
content and warnings: sfw, non-idol au, Sehun x fem!reader, angst, commitment issues, alcohol consumption, cussing, implied past alcoholism, toxic dynamic, themes of loneliness, Sehun’s low-key a jerk, reader is too, reader is an avoidant girly, implied daddy issues, they’re both lonely and fucked up people, misogynistic behaviour (not from sehun), slightly suggestive, making out, a bit of kissing, nothing wild.
author’s note: first fic omg! please be kind, I’m writing after such a long time, and first time on tumblr :) this is very self-indulgent. please keep in mind that english is not my first language so i apologise for any grammatical mistakes or spelling errors, but i’m open to any tips. there are barely any sehun fics here on tumblr and so i decided to take matters into my own hands lol, hope you all like it. this is loosely inspired by the lorde song “supercut” and by the billie eilish song “bitches broken hearts”. feedback is really appreciated <3
The rain pattered down lightly on the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dark apartment, there was an air of melancholy in the cold and dark space.
Sehun’s fingers hovered over the screen on the call button, debating within himself if he should just call you and call you over. The hollow ache in his chest was intense today—like it sometimes tend to get in moments like these, when he sat all alone and realized that he truly had no one to turn to.
He remembered your words from last weekend when he was over at your place, you both were nothing—not friends, not together, not even fuckbuddies. You both didn’t want to give it a name at all.
“I mean, it’s not like we’re anything.”
You had said easily, and Sehun even chuckled and agreed. But it seemed that you were not into it anymore, you didn’t want the push and pull of it all anymore.
That’s where you were tonight, on a date with some guy who Sehun didn’t know and you said you wanted this all to be over with Sehun. He knew you were putting yourself out now, but he still needed you here, and he knew that you’d never turn him down.
Against his friends’ advice and his own better judgement, he texted you.
A frustrated sigh left your lips as you fixed your lipgloss in the mirror of the restaurant’s restroom—your date was a dick, your luck even bigger of a bitch. But you were still tolerating it all, anything to get Sehun off of your mind. You took a deep sigh and ran a hand through your hair, ready to go back outside for the dessert you had just ordered.
Seriously, you were dreading going back outside but you were just hoping to get some action with the guy, even if all he could seem to do was talk about how much of a ‘high value man’ he was and how he believed women of this generation should dress more feminine.
You grabbed your handbag, pulling it over your arm when your phone pinged in your hand suddenly—your heart hammered in your chest, there was a vague idea in your head of who was texting you on a Tuesday night. And you were afraid that if you checked the text, you wouldn’t have it in you to not run right to him.
A shaky sigh left your lips.
You turned the phone to yourself. There it was. His name on your lock screen. With a simple text message.
Sehun: Hi. wyd?
A silent war waged in your head and in your heart, if you answered his text, he would send you a simple ‘please’ and you wouldn’t be able to stop your feet from running to his apartment.
You: nothing what do you want, sehun?
You stared at your phone in the dim light of restroom, waiting for the reply, the dessert long forgotten. Then it suddenly hit you, the man you were on a date with was still outside and very much probably waiting for you.
Fuck Sehun and whatever he wants. You thought to yourself and put your phone in your handbag, for the final time you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep sigh.
You were just gonna get this date done with. Couldn’t be so hard.
With a soft and polite smile plastered on your face, you walked out of the restroom and to the table he was sat at. You didn’t even remember what his name was. Smoothly, you slid into your seat, passing him a small smile as he asked what took you so long in the restroom and how he was worried that you’d took off. You waved off his question with some stupid excuse.
Damn, you were a shitty date.
The sight of no dessert on the table made you frown, you had ordered a mousse before going to the restroom.
“Um, did they not bring my mousse yet?” Your tone was confused as you stared at your date with an expectant look in your eyes.
He laughed and shook his head, “Oh no, I think you’ve had enough, no? I told them to not bring the dessert when you were in the restroom. I don’t think you need to eat more.”
Was this guy joking or what? He couldn’t possibly serious about this, you felt like slapping him hard across the face to wipe off his smug and toothy smile.
Taking a deep sigh, you pushed your anger down and nodded with a forced smile. Just get it done with. There was absolutely no point arguing with this asshole who thought he could dictate how much you should eat or not. Since there was no dessert coming, the date came to an end quickly which you were thankful for. There was no words to describe your surprise when he asked you split the bill with him, but you just wanted to get out of here so you pulled out a wad of cash and put it in the bill.
Stepping out of restaurant and in the cool night air along with him was barely any relief—Sehun was still in the back of your mind, you wanted to check your phone to see if he had texted you back. Or did he apologise for how things had been going downhill between you both, maybe he didn’t text you at all and you were the one who was think—
“I think you’re nice but just not the girlfriend type, you know?” Your date suddenly said to you, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Wow. The fucking audacity. You were late to tell him to fuck off first and how you hated the way the whole date had went, you wanted to tell him how this was the worst date you’d ever been on in your whole life. But he had opened his mouth first.
“No, I don’t. What do you even mean by that?” You tried your hardest to keep the bitterness out of your tone as you tried to assert over him a little.
“I mean,” he chuckled like it was funny and made a vague gesture to you with his hands. When you raised your eyebrows at him, silently demanding him to continue, he sighed and opened his mouth again, spewing a bunch of bullshit, “look, you don’t seem the type to date. You’re one those girls that one can never imagine in a relationship.”
Oh.
That affected you more than you’d liked to show.
This was the eighth time in your life someone had said this to you, and you absolutely hated this idea of being someone who could never be in a relationship.
“Right, anything else?” This time though, your voice was harsh and bitter as you scoffed at him, “it’s not like I’m dying to date you or something. Fuck off,” you turned on your heel and just walked onto the street. You could hear him calling you a bitch and a gold digger as you walked away, what a weird and entitled guy.
When you fell into a steady rhythm of steps on the sidewalk, you slowly pulled out your phone from your handbag for the obvious reason. You stared at the lock screen time—it wasn’t so late, the time read 11:28 PM.
And then you stared quietly at the bottom of the screen, where there was a message notification from Sehun. What were you doing? You told yourself you were over this weird routine you and him had going on. He was cryptic and eccentric.
But so were you. You didn’t want commitment or that whole nuisance—yet you craved being loved, and in an arrangement like this, there wasn’t such a thing as love. You both just have to make do with what was going on between each other.
Then you stared down at your lock screen again, at the text he had sent you to your question ‘what do you want?’. Damn this man, he always made you throw your rational thoughts out of the window.
Sehun: you. please?
And while, you were a cold and aloof person all the time and never put up with anyone’s bullshit. You still couldn’t stop yourself from the decision you were about to make.
Sehun’s stood in the middle of the kitchen, his fingers traced the edge of the kitchen’s countertop idly, the silence was deafening in his darkened apartment. He was losing hope. You weren’t gonna come tonight, were you? Seemed like you were really gonna distance yourself away from him.
Did your date turn out to be great? He wondered if you were with that man right now, had he laid his hands on you yet? Sehun’s mind spiralled with at vision of you with another man. He knew he was a jerk when he felt the slightest twinge of jealousy at the thought of a man—someone other than him, touching you. He had no right, now, did he.
Maybe, he was meant to be like this. All alone in the end. Without even much thinking, he dug his hands in one of the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a glass along with the bottle of vodka he kept there for this exact reason. He didn’t didn’t want to go back to his old ways, especially the ones that caused him great deal of damage.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to think about that right now.
But his hands shook as he poured himself the vodka in the glass—to the brim, neat. His grip on the glass was tight as he lifted it up and brought it to his lips, taking a big swig of it. The alcohol burned its way down his throat and he sighed deeply, almost unaffected by it.
A pang of irritation hit him as he thought about his high alcohol tolerance and realized that it takes him more than usual alcohol to at least quieten the noise in his head. With a loud groan, he leaned over the countertop, pressing his forehead down on the cold marble of the top.
Fuck this, he was a mess, he thought to himself.
He was drifting deep into his self-deprecating voices when a knock at the front door pulled him out of his thoughts.
Not the doorbell, no. But a soft and impatient knocking. Like whoever was on the other side was almost second guessing on knocking the door.
He straightened up so fast he almost got whiplash, his hands hastily ran through his hair to fix them a little, his hands patting repeatedly on the zip-up hoodie he was wearing to fix it a little.
Sehun cursed himself when he felt his knees going a little shaky as he walked to the door, internally praying to himself that it was none other than you.
His prayers had definitely been heard when he peeked through the peephole of the door and found you standing there, staring at your feet quietly. Sehun couldn’t believe the speed at which his hands unlocked the door and pulled the door open. Standing face to face with you.
You stuffed your hands in the pocket of your jacket, your clothes and hair were slightly damp with the light rain that had been pouring since the evening. Shifting from one foot to another, you both just stared at each other.
Sehun seemed to notice that your mascara was a bit smudged, had you been crying? Maybe it was from the rain. He looked you over—taking in your outfit, you were dressed a little formally, of course, a silk button-up shirt under the leather jacket paired with brown pants. You had been on a date so it made sense.
“Uh, come in,” he finally seemed to snap out of his thoughts as stepped aside for you come in.
You stepped in with ease like you’d belonged here—you’d been here several times so it wasn’t wrong to say that. Your eyes scanned the area, there was barely any lighting on in the apartment. The curtains were drawn open from all windows, the only lighting in the living room coming from the city’s lights through the windows.
“Your friend told that you had a date today, how’d it go?” He asked nonchalantly, closing the door and locking it as you made your way deeper into the living room and plopped down on the couch, putting your handbag on the table.
A little chuckle left your lips as you stared at him, he stood by the couch, your eyes were glassy and twinkling in the dim light, “it was okay,” you shrugged casually. The words were still on your mind, you questioned yourself about it over and over and over again.
Could you really never be in a relationship? Is that what type of a person you were—hard to handle, hard to keep.
“You look good,” Sehun smiled down at you as he sat down next to you, close enough that your knees and shoulders were touching. Still not close enough for him though.
“Yeah? Tell me something new,” you let out a low scoff, turning your head to stare at him. His eyes were were like two dark pools of black holes, something which seemed you pull you in more and more the more you stared into them.
His hand creeped its way onto your clothed arm, he traced random circles onto it as he held your eyes, “you can pretend all you want. You can pretend that you don’t care,” at that, he earned a soft laugh from you as you shook your head. You both stared at each other in silence for a long time.
Before you knew, he was pressing his lips to the corner of your lips, a smile on his lips as they moved to your jaw with light kisses and then finally back to your lips, hand pressed at the small of your back as he pulled you in impossibly close.
Your lips moved against his automatically, reciprocating, matching his tempo with equal passion.
His lips moved slow and deep, like he was trying to memorise your taste all over again, he tasted of sharp alcohol mixed with something metallic, something uniquely him. Sehun had a way with how he kissed, languid, deep and passionate. It always left your heart hammering harsh against your ribcage, your knees weak and your brain mush.
“I missed you, was so scared that you weren’t gonna come,” he mumbled against your lips, almost breathless, he could feel his heart beating in his ears when you shook your head and mumbled back a soft ‘I missed you too’.
“Mm? You missed me? Of course, you did. Those guys don’t get you the way I do,” he pulled away to catch his breath, you and him both breathless from the deep kissing. His eyes twinkled as pressed soft kisses to your jaw and the column of your throat.
You nodded, hands gripping his hoodie tight and moving even closer, “yeah, they don’t,” you whispered in the dark of the room, pressing your lips to his lips again. Your arms wrapped around his neck with a possessiveness that was at odds with what you both were.
Both of you stayed entangled like that for a bit more, until the thunder cracked loudly outside, the rain falling heavier now—prompting you both to pull away. Sehun stared down at you, hands gripping the sleeve of your leather jacket which was still damp, “let me take this off of you, it’s damp.”
A soft chuckle bubbled from our your throat as you nodded, standing up and letting him shrug the damp jacket off you, he grabbed it from you, putting it aside and disappeared into the bedroom to grab a towel for you to dry your hair—which you both had been too busy and entangled with eachother to notice.
Walking out of the bedroom with a soft towel in his hands, he handed it to you, you took it from him, rubbing your hair with it, “you’ve been drinking?” The words came out more surprised than you intended them to be, you cocked your head to the glass full of vodka on the countertop of the kitchen, along with the bottle too.
“Yeah,” he just shrugged casually before staring out of the window at the heavy rain and thunderstorm. The lightning painting the dark sky in a beautiful blue and white hue of colors, “how’d you get here in such heavy rain?”
Turning on your heel, you stared out of the window too, before replying in a soft tone, “walked, you know i like to get my steps done. But it wasn’t raining heavily when i came here, also it’s barely raining on the other side of the city.”
Sehun and you just stared out of the window in heavy silence, the air between you both was heavy with unspoken thoughts and a million unsaid words. You wanted to ask him about whether you were someone he could ever see in a relationship. Yep, those words from earlier were still weighing down on your mind. Sehun wanted to ask you if anyone could ever actually come and take his place from your life. Both of you were entangled in your extreme loneliness, afraid to confront it, afraid to face the fears.
The bliss in ignorance.
“Are you gonna stay the night?” He suddenly asked, turning over, finally taking his gaze off the window and looking at you, fingers fiddling quietly.
In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to ask you that, there were rarely any occasions that you both stayed the night at each other’s places, often avoiding that sort of intimacy.
“I think i might, it’s raining hard. Makes it difficult to find a cab back home,” there was uncertainty in your voice as you looked at his face quietly, trying to read his response quietly.
“Okay,” he just nodded, moving to the kitchen, draining the glass of vodka down the kitchen sink and putting the bottle aside.
“This bastard is a sore loser and just can’t accept that he can also lose a game, now, can you, Chanyeol?”
Junmyeon’s voice echoed with playful anger in the lively living room as Chanyeol groaned and threw his cards down, starting to argue how Junmyeon and Yixing had partnered up against him and had been cheating through out the whole game.
Baekhyun joined in on the argument, taking Chanyeol’s side, listing out points that Junmyeon was being unfair and so on. Sehun just watched his friends fighting over the most stupidest shit in his life, laughing his lungs out.
The argument was cut off suddenly by the loud ringing from Sehun’s phone on the table, your name lighting up the screen. Baekhyun let out the loudest groan of annoyance known to mankind as Sehun reached for the phone quickly.
“Nah, man, you’re with us right now, it’s boys night. No girls are gonna interrupt you tonight, put the phone down.” Chanyeol moved to snatch the phone out of the younger man’s hands, but Sehun dodged it, glaring at his friends.
They began arguing with him, complaining about how his friends should be above than that. But soon it died down.
Everyone quietened down in the room as the phone continued ringing and Sehun just silently stared at your name on his phone. Yixing sighed and leaned back, “it’s not just any girl now, is it, c’mon guys, get it.”
The ringing stopped as Sehun didn’t pick it up. He really didn’t plan to pick up your call—but silently, in his heart, he made a quick decision to himself. If you were to call him again, he’ll pick it up.
“Sehun, you’re unfair as fuck. You barely ever hang out with us anymore, and the one time you finally do, even then you’re not present with us and your mind is somewhere.” Baekhyun groaned, plopping himself down on the couch. He stared over at Sehun as he sat back down and gestured to continue the game quietly, “I’m serious, I hate this girl. She’s all for half-measures, and you still go running to her each time she calls. I thought you said you were gonna stay away for good this time.”
Sehun couldn’t care less, he just shrugged off Baekhyun’s words with a wave of his hand.
Baekhyun and the others picked up the cards again, getting back to the game. And the game had barely even started getting somewhere when the phone begin ringing again, your name on the screen.
Nonetheless everything, Sehun quietly grabbed the phone and just stepped out into the balcony despite his friends constant yelling at him from behind and calling him back.
As soon as he picked up the call and held the phone to his ear, your sad and frustrated voice filled the air, “I can’t do this, i swear! I just thought that maybe i could salvage what me and my dad had, we could be nice with each other, but he’s just so stuck up his own ass.”
His eyes stared at the twinkling lights of the star in the dark sky above, “what’d he say, hm?”
“That the phone works two ways, and if he doesn’t call, then i should. He said i was a coward for moving out and that i was extremely hard to deal with,” your voice broke at the end of the sentence, your breath catching in your throat as you sniffled, very much trying to hold back your tears and trying not to cry to Sehun.
“Are you out somewhere or at your apartment?”
“Not home, I’m at some club. Don’t know where, to be honest,” you told him with a shaky voice. Sehun had his own doubts that you might’ve even drank.
“Send me your location and stay where you are, I’m coming,” he moved quick, going back inside and grabbing his car keys and jacket.
On his way out the front door of Chanyeol’s place, Junmyeon took him aside and really tried to persuade him to stay—to not leave for some girl who wasn’t even his girlfriend, his situationship, or even just a friend.
But nothing could stop Sehun from getting to you after hearing the hiccups in your voice from the phone.
When Sehun had arrived at the location you sent, you had gotten into a verbal fight with some girls just right outside of the nightclub’s entrance, throwing loud insults and pushing each other and what not. He had pulled you away from them with a lot of convincing and sat you down in the passenger seat of his car, driving you back to your place.
You were tipsy, tethering the edge between fully drunk and sober.
“You didn’t have to come and get me, y’know,” you mumbled lazily as you languidly sat down on your bed, kicking your shoes off. Sehun was towering over you silently.
He didn’t say anything to that, didn’t have to.
You fiddled your fingers in your lap, finally lifting your gaze to stare up at him, he was already staring at you with those sharp eyes of his, “i was apologising to him, thinking maybe i could fix it all. But he didn’t care enough.”
You were pretty stuck on your dad, still.
The tears came quick and free, flowing down your face. Your shoulders wracked with silent sobs, he didn’t do anything, didn’t interrupt you—or tried to soothe you with empty words, just quietly moved to sit beside you at the edge of the bed.
“I don’t think it’s your responsibility to fix anything with him, sweetheart,” his voice the softest you’ve ever heard him speak to anyone at all.
“I know…”
“Then why’re you so adamant on disappointing yourself with each time you call him?”
A heavy sigh left your lips as you stared down at your lap, rubbing your eyes to stop the tears from flowing, “I don’t know.”
Sehun moved to gently take you in his arms, you sobbed softly, shaky and tired, his warm, big hands ran up and down the expanse of your back as you burrowed yourself deeper into his chest. Your head was tucked under his chin, your body shaking with soft little sobs.
The only sound that you could hear right now was the sounds of crickets chirping outside your window. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling, you held the duvet to yourself even tighter as you tried as hard as you could to fall asleep. But nothing was working. You’d tried the warm glass of milk, tried lying down on your stomach, tried reading a book—nothing worked. You were so tired but still so sleepless. It had been almost three hours since you’ve been in bed and still unable to sleep.
You hadn’t even seen Sehun in several weeks, after that night with crying in his arms and what not vulnerable foolishness you’ve done, you and him finally began to distance for good. It was something you were grateful for, because it was clear that it was the better thing for you both.
When you had went to sleep that night, you woke up the next morning with nothing in your head but him—and he had left before you were even awake. You realized one thing, this thing that was going on between you and him left you feeling all hollow and empty from inside in the aftermath of it.
That was the exact point that you both began to be distant simultaneously, he didn’t text you much afterwards, you didn’t bother calling him anymore, too.
It was going great. Finally getting some stability in your routine, no more sudden dopamine rushes that soon turned to heartaches, no more 3 AM texts from him, no more late-night calling him and crying to him about your issues.
But the universe definitely had other plans.
Because when you finally felt that sleep was coming to you, your eyelids beginning to droop. There was sudden rapid knocking at the door, impatient and demanding, jolting you out of your half-asleep state. Whoever it was, they didn’t even bother ringing your doorbell—was just banging your front door.
You stepped out of the bed, barefoot on the cold floor as you looked over at the digital clock on your bedside table, the digital numbers on the screen glowing in the dark, the time read 02:53 AM.
It was almost 3 in the morning, it led you to extreme confusion and worry, who could even be at your door at this hour.
The knocking turned even impatient, but not angry. With hasty movements, you grabbed your robe and put it on your body to cover yourself a little before you padded out of your bedroom and to the front door.
Upon the opening the door, you discovered the man standing on the other side to be who you least expected it to be.
Sehun.
What was he doing here? He looked a little messed up, clothes disheveled, hair messy and all. It had really began to seem like that Sehun wasn’t gonna be in your life anymore and to be fair, you pretended to be happy and grateful with that. But now he was here, out of the blue, at 3 in the morning.
“Thank god, i was almost beginning to think you were out for good, like dreaming real hard,” he just chuckled casually and pushed his way in your apartment easily.
As he passed by you, you couldn’t help but notice how he reeked so strongly of cheap feminine perfume, your head connected the dots quietly as you closed the door behind him and stepped back in, too.
Someone had left him high and dry for you to clean the mess up. Yet again.
He lazily plopped down on your couch, groaning softly as he stretched his legs straight. Finally, he took in the state of your apartment, dark and clean, you were definitely in bed but insomniac, he thought to himself.
“You want a drink?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen, when he answered a soft yes. Your hands gripped two glasses and a bottle of half-drank rum, walking back into the living room.
The glasses clinked loudly against the table as you placed them down, pouring him and yourself a drink, you picked up your glass, swirling the amber liquid inside it slowly before you sat down on the couch beside the one he was sat on.
“It’s quite the timing, Sunday night, 3 in the morning, you start banging my door all unannounced, wouldn’t you say?” You finally voiced the thoughts running through your head.
Sehun just took a slow sip of the amber liquid, the alcohol burned deliciously down his throat, he was deep in thought, thinking about something hard before he chuckled and looked over at you, “don’t act as if you didn’t miss me.”
“I wasn’t dying to see you, Sehun.”
“Maybe,” he just smiled at you, drinking more from the glass, “but you still definitely missed me.”
“Plus, no one does it for you like I do,” he leaned his head back, a frown between his eyebrows but a cocky smile on his lips. Like he was trying to put up a front. His classic behaviour, whenever there was something weighing heavily on his mind he only took one way out of it.
Dissimulation and being cryptic. It was so Sehun.
“Well, no one does it for you like I do, too. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come here at 3 in the morning,” you shot back, taking a swig of the drink in your hands, “whoever it was, she couldn’t manage to keep you invested long enough to stay, now, could she.”
Sehun didn’t say anything, just stared at you, he didn’t deny your words. But he didn’t regard them with a response, too, as if you both weren’t something significant enough to admit to that.
“This is the last time, I’m gonna stay away for good after this once,” he suddenly said, almost to himself as he immediately pulled you into his lap. His hands gripped your waist tight and he stared up at you, your hands snaking around his neck.
“Me too, this isn’t good, it’s toxic and stupid. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not good, for neither of us. We’re gonna stay away after this,” you agreed, trying to convince yourself, your lips crashing to his in a deep and searing kiss, his hands pulling you impossibly closer as you both tangled on the couch.
Yet the same cycle would repeat again.
That was the truth, and you both knew the truth, this would happen again. And again and again and again. He could lie to himself, you could lie to yourself all you wanted to. You could act like you didn’t miss his touch, didn’t miss his lips, he could do the same. But you and him knew the truth.
It was impossible to stay away from each other. Even if it drained you, even if it burned him, in the worst of ways possible. Even then, you both couldn’t resist the presence of one another, the touch, the fleeting kisses, the fluttering of heartbeats.
Couldn’t resist the dizzying overnight rush of it all, even if it left you both feeling aching and hollow afterwards.
You and him would go running right back to each other, no matter how many times you try to stay away from one another.
like he can't believe he's in a small apartment of a tiny coastal town. the sun seeps through the light pink curtains, highlighting every curve on your body with a golden glow.
his hands were cupping the sides of your hips, rubbing them up and down. "just like that, baby." he encourages and you smile down at him.
oh how happy you looked to be bouncing on him right now.
he gestures for you to come down with two fingers. you follow, lowering yourself to connect your lips. your tongue slowly dances with his, taking your time with each other. because you have all night.
chanyeol wraps his arms around your body, pulling you even closer to feel each other's heart beat for one another. his hands cant stop moving. they run around all over your body until they find the comfort of your cheeks and help you move your hips to chase each other's high.
"my baby, my love, my wife." his eyes scan every corner, every wrinkle, every inch of your face. he wants to remember this when you're 70.
when every wrinkle has grown deeper. when every inch of you has grown older and softer. he cant wait to grow old with you, start this new life with you.
"cum for me, my love." he kisses the side of your neck, eliciting a moan from you.
your hips move a lot quicker, rocking back and forth. you're smiling brightly at him, watching the sun paint his skin a pretty gold.
"i love you." you sigh in his ear when your orgasm hits you and you're tightening around him. chanyeol grabs your head in his large hands and kisses you hungrily. his hips don't stop, slowly thrusting into you as if you didn't just come.
"you sound so lovely, darling." he smiles so innocently.
↳ summary: they've always been competitive about everything, and you're no exception.
↳ wc: 3.3k
↳ genres and content: baekhyun x f!reader x chanyeol | pwp, vaguely college football au | threesome, oral (all receiving), deepthroating/mentions of choking on it, hella dirty talk, degradation, and praise, p in v (and a?), dp, brief slapping, spanking, general filth
↳ a/n: requested by anon! i don't know anything about dp for real and i know even less about american football. no one mention how the title is a tennis reference please i just thought it was cool
You hear them all the way down the hallway before you hear the jingling of the key in your door. That telltale muffled bickering grows louder and louder the closer they get, until their words become crystal clear when the door slams open.
“— you had just been paying attention then we would’ve scored that final point!”
“So fucking what? We would’ve won anyways, thanks to the touchdown that I scored in the third quarter.”
The two barrel into your entryway, hardly giving you a second glance. Baekhyun and Chanyeol, the star quarterbacks of your university’s football team, who always seemed to butt heads on and off the field. They had already showered and changed out of their gear (thank God, after showing up to your place much one too many times tracking in dirt and grass), but that didn’t mean that they left their game day mindset behind.
You clear your throat from your perch on the couch, looking up from your study notes. “Have a good game?”
Baekhyun sighs dramatically, flopping onto the cushions next to you. “It would’ve been a good game if Chanyeol was thinking about anything related to football at all in the last ten seconds.”
Chanyeol frowns, helping himself to a glass of water from your sink. “Like I was saying, I scored the winning touchdown several minutes before that. Why does it matter if we didn’t get three extra points?”
“It’s about the principle, Yeol. We only moderately beat them”. Baekhyun’s eyes glint with a mixture of annoyance and passion. “If we got those extra points we could’ve gone around saying that we beat their asses into the ground.”
“What do you think?” Chanyeol turns to you. Two pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly.
You sigh. You hate mediating whatever petty argument the two of them get up to. Frankly, you simply have better things to do with your time. But sometimes, on a night like tonight when the adrenaline is still high from their game, it’s in your best interest to stir the pot a little bit.
“I dunno, Baek, it kinda sounds like Chanyeol won the game for us.”
Baekhyun’s mouth drops open while Chanyeol smirks. He crosses over to the couch to sit on your other side and ruffles your hair affectionately. “See, Baek? Your point is meaningless.”
“It doesn’t count because you weren’t there,” Baekhyun says petulantly, bottom lip jutting out not unlike a child who’s just been told no. “You should’ve felt the rush from the crowd. They were definitely disappointed that we didn’t score.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “It’s not that serious.”
“It is that serious!” The volume of Baekhyun’s voice raises again, a renewed motivation to argue surging through him. “You know that I play better when I’m feeding off the crowd’s energy.”
“Guys, stop,” you say firmly. Instantly, they shut up, mouths snapping shut obediently. “Last time you guys fought I was getting noise complaints for days. Don’t make me regret giving you guys the spare key.”
“Sorry,” they say in unison.
“If you guys keep bickering I’m just gonna go to sleep. Or…” you say pointedly. “You could settle this a different way.”
That gets their attention. They perk up immediately, waiting for you expectantly.
“Whoever makes me cum the most in the next hour wins.”
Tension settles in the air, thick and heavy. It’s no secret to the other that you hook up with both of them. They don’t care on any level deeper than petty jealousy. But this… having you at the same time? It’s an entirely new experience, but one that you’d been fantasizing a lot lately, waiting for the right time to broach the subject.
To your delight, they look incredibly interested. Baekhyun swallows, his gaze drifting heavily from you to Chanyeol. The other mirrors his disposition; you can practically see the gears turning in his head. The two size each other up, ever the competitors, waiting for the other to make the first move.
“Or I could just say that Yeol was right—”
Baekhyun reaches out to grab your chin, tilting your head towards him. He kisses you roughly, slipping his tongue past your pliant lips, groaning when you fist a hand in his hair. To your other side, Chanyeol whines. He shoves his hand between your faces and pries you away from Baekhyun, kissing you when your lips part.
“Playing dirty already, Yeol?” Baekhyun huffs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before he pulls your attention back towards him. He ducks his head down to suck a mark into your neck, smirking against your skin when you gasp.
Chanyeol goes to unbutton your shirt, large hands fumbling with your buttons. “Shut the fuck up, Byun,” he grumbles, kissing your chest.
It’s a huge mess: hands and lips moving everywhere. You lose track of which body part belongs to who, whose hand is settling on your tits, who’s slipping their fingers past the waistband of your pajama shorts. All you know is that your head is spinning, whirling from their constant tugs for attention, and that you end up completely bare in between the two of them. You can feel just how soaked you’re starting to become, heat pooling in your core.
Baekhyun kneels between your legs, all but pulling you forward towards him as he hooks his arms around your thighs, locking you in place. Chanyeol continues to make out with you, a sharp sting blooming across your bottom lip when he nips at it, pulling the skin slightly towards him right as Baekhyun buries his face in your heat, nose bumping against your clit as he licks at you fervently.
You gasp into Chanyeol’s mouth, pulling away to look down at the sight below. Baekhyun’s staring up at you with a fire in his eyes, the kind of heat you only see from him when he’s on the field.
“Not fair,” Chanyeol says, slightly out of breath. His lips are dark and wet, eyes bearing a similar flame to Baekhyun’s.
“Too slow, Park,” Baekhyun mutters, smirking as he sinks two long fingers into your cunt. “You snooze, you lose.”
You open your mouth to scold him, but you don’t get a word out before Chanyeol’s lips descend on yours again. You whimper against him, instinctively arching into Baekhyun’s touch. His tongue dips into your hole, brushing against your walls as he strokes your clit with his thumb, skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Can we confess something to you?” Chanyeol asks, voice heated. “We hoped this would happen when we came over tonight. We made up the argument.”
“What?” you pant. “You little shits.”
Baekhyun sinks his fingers back into your wet slit, curling them against your g-spot. “Are you complaining?” he asks cheekily. “I’ll stop right now if you want me to.”
“You’re such a basta— oh fuck, Baekhyunnie,” you moan, fisting a hand in his hair. “I’m getting close.”
“Not yet,” he says. “Why don’t you help Chanyeol out, he’s getting awfully squirmy.”
Without a second to lose, Chanyeol gets rid of the rest of his clothes, moaning breathily when you spit into your other hand and begin to jerk him off slowly.
“Ah, shit,” he gasps, his hips bucking into your touch. “Just like that, baby.”
Your senses are on overdrive trying to process everything that’s happening: the sight of the two with their desirous gazes, the slick noises coming from either side, the buildup of pleasure in your body. It all becomes too much too fast, and you tip over the edge, clamping your thighs around Baekhyun’s head as you cum. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently, making you shudder with sensitivity. Chanyeol sucks a bruise right under your ear. “So beautiful, so good,” he murmurs, sending another wave of desire through you.
As soon as Baekhyun moves off of you, Chanyeol’s strong arms are pulling you up and into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, mind hazy from the afterglow of your first orgasm, as he carries you into the bedroom, Baekhyun following close behind. He tosses you onto the bed and flips you over onto your stomach, not even giving you a second to breathe before sheathing himself inside of you without preamble. You cry out, head dropping forward onto the sheets in front of you as Chanyeol immediately sets a brutal rhythm. He’s not usually so rough with you, but the buildup, not being able to touch you in the way that Baekhyun has, must have gotten to him. You can feel it in the way that he grips your hips like he has something to prove, burying himself inside of you again and again.
“Fucking impatient ass,” Baekhyun grumbles, moving to the other side of the bed so that he’s in front of you. He tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze even as he continues to talk to Chanyeol. “You literally carried her in here.”
“Shut up,” Chanyeol bites back. He tightens his grip, holding you still as he pounds into you. “Sounds like you were just too slow.”
“Why are you both— hah— talking about me like I’m not here?” you manage to say, your words coming out unsteady.
“Aw, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun coos condescendingly. “You want even more attention than you’re already getting, hm? Getting fucked into the mattress isn’t enough?”
“Jesus, Baek,” Chanyeol says. “Isn’t that a little mean?”
“She likes it.” He settles into position so that you’re laying in between his legs, his cock just inches from your face. “You don’t feel how she’s getting wetter?”
You nod frantically. “I do— I like it, Yeollie. Please, more.”
“Good girl,” Baekhyun chuckles. He lightly slaps the side of your face, not hard enough to sting, but still enough to make you gasp. “Now open up.”
You wrap your hand around the base of Baekhyun’s cock and put it to your lips, tongue darting out to lick the underside of his head. “Come on, you can do better than that,” Chanyeol says. Before you know it, his hand is on the back of your head, pushing you down once onto Baekhyun’s length before letting you go. You choke, spit dribbling down past your lips and down his cock, the momentum from Chanyeol’s thrusts pushing you deeper onto Baekhyun. Your eyes water as you struggle to adjust, but soon you settle into a rhythm.
“God, you look so good like this,” Baekhyun murmurs, reaching out to caress the side of your face, jarringly gentle for the way you’re currently being manhandled on both sides. “I don’t think she’s gonna want to go back to having us one at a time, Yeol. You should see her face.”
“Yeah?” Chanyeol grunts. “Tell me how much you like it, baby.”
You pull off of Baekhyun with a slight pop. You feel your own spit all over your bottom lip and chin, and a string of saliva connects your mouth to the tip of Baekhyun’s cock. It’s dirty, filthy, and you think that maybe you should be embarrassed but you’re not. Not in the slightest. “I love it,” you gasp, tilting your head up so you can see Chanyeol above you. “I love it so much.”
Chanyeol wraps his hand around your throat and bends down to swap a filthy kiss with you before letting you go, lowering your mouth back onto Baekhyun’s cock. You work with the rhythm that Chanyeol sets, using your hand on whatever can’t fit inside your mouth. Baekhyun’s head tips back, lips parting. He swallows thickly, reaching out a hand to settle on top of your head. “Such a good slut,” he groans. “You love being used like this, huh? You like being our little fucktoy?”
You moan instead of answering him with words, nodding your head as best as you can around his length. The salty tang of precum touches your tongue, only spurring you on further.
“Don’t take his cock out of your mouth when you cum,” Chanyeol says, one hand grabbing your shoulder for better leverage. “Wanna hear you choke on it when you do.”
His words unlock something in you, the filth coming from Chanyeol, who’s usually so restrained with his words, dripping with pure, animalistic lust in his voice. It suddenly brings about your second orgasm, your body trembling through it, your puffy, sensitive walls fluttering around Chanyeol’s length. Your voice comes out muffled and choked around Baekhyun, making him groan. He grabs at the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
Chanyeol doesn’t wait another second and slaps your ass as he pulls out, making you jolt. “C’mon, ride me.”
“Wait, hold on,” Baekhyun pouts. “It’s my turn.”
“I’m not fucking done yet,” Chanyeol says with a huff. “You can wait.”
“Quit being a dick—”
“Or you could both do it.”
They both shut up immediately, looking at you with a mixture of apprehension and arousal. “Baek in my ass,” you continue. “Yeol in my pussy.”
“Are you sure?” Baekhyun asks, all of his previous bravado melting away to show his concern. “I know we’ve— done it like that before but never at the same time.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Chanyeol chimes in.
“I’m sure,” you say. “Here, like this.”
You gently push Chanyeol onto his back and climb on top of him, slowly sinking down onto his thick length. You lean down, almost touching your chests together, arching your ass as best as you can for Baekhyun.
“Oh my God,” Baekhyun groans, settling behind you. He rubs his hands over your ass appreciatively, parting your cheeks and letting some spit dribble down onto your hole. “You look so fucking slutty like this.”
You swallow and give him the go-ahead, distracting yourself by leaving hickeys across Chanyeol’s chest. Inch by inch, Baekhyun pushes in. It’s tight, uncomfortable, but not anything you can’t handle. The three of you take shaky breaths, silent for the first time as you all adjust to the new sensations. “Look at me, baby,” Chanyeol says softly, grabbing your face with both hands. “You’re doing perfect. Such a good girl for us.”
You mewl in his grasp, arms shaking as you struggle to hold yourself up. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and the feeling is almost so overwhelming you don’t know whether to run from it or towards it. “So— so much.”
“Too much?” Baekhyun asks, voice strained. You can tell that he’s holding himself back, every muscle in his body working to stop himself from losing control, from pushing all the way in.
“No,” you gasp. “Don’t you dare stop.”
It takes a bit of time, but slowly you start to feel yourself getting used to the stretch, pleasure replacing the discomfort. You drop your head onto Chanyeol’s chest as Baekhyun starts to slide in and out.
“So fucking tight.” Baekhyun leans over and scatters kisses across your back. You feel surrounded on all sides, pressed between the two of them, the warmth of their bodies heating your skin. “How you doing, angel?”
You try to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled whine. You can’t think, much less form a proper sentence. Chanyeol tips your chin up towards him and kisses you. “Answer,” he says softly but firmly, rolling his hips upwards gently.
The dual movement makes you cry out, fingers scrambling to grasp onto Chanyeol’s shoulders. “It’s good,” you whimper. “So— fuck— please.”
“Cute,” Chanyeol chuckles. He kisses you again. “You’re so pretty when you’re wrecked.”
They begin to move faster and at the same time, making you feel so full in ways you never thought possible. The two are almost just as wrecked as you, hands and lips roaming, breath hot against your skin, mumbling praise, an endless stream of, “So good, angel,” and “Our pretty slut.” You can’t return their sentiments, at least not through words, only able to babble out a stream of incoherent words and breathy whines.
It gets to the point where they’re pounding into you, hips rolling as if they were one unit. You cry out at a particularly deep thrust, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “Fuck, I’m getting close,” you whimper.
“Who’s better?” Chanyeol whispers in your ear, cutting through all the noise.
“Wh-What?” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. Your head starts to droop forward again but Baekhyun tugs your hair back, forcing you to lock eyes with Chanyeol.
“I said, who’s better at fucking you stupid, huh?” He punctuates his point with a sharper thrust upward, making you scream. “Answer, or we won’t let you cum.”
“I— I don’t know!” you wail. The tears fall, streaming down your face. “You’re both so good, too good, fuck!”
“Goddamn, who’s being mean now?” Baekhyun says, leaving a sharp smack on your ass. “If she doesn’t want to pick, don’t make her pick.”
“I— I don’t wanna,” you whine, straining back to look at Baekhyun, his sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. “Please, Baek. I— I wanna cum.”
Baekhyun swears, hips stuttering. “Just a little longer, baby.”
You’re frantic, fingers leaving red indents on Chanyeol’s shoulders from holding on for dear life. Baekhyun reaches out and grabs your wrists, pulling them taut behind you. You sob, breathless, helplessly at their mercy but you wouldn’t want it any other fucking way. “Please,” you babble, delirious, the only thing on your mind being your need for release. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything.”
“Say who makes you feel this good,” Baekhyun hisses into your ear.
“You do! Both of you! Shit, I can’t—”
“Okay, baby,” Chanyeol grunts. “Cum for us.”
It explodes through you, white-hot and ferocious. Your vision turns spotty around the edges as it ripples through you. The two of them swear as you tighten around them, your walls fluttering, two pairs of large hands holding you still as you shudder in their grasp.
Chanyeol helps you off of them and puts you onto your back, positioning himself near your mouth. Exhausted, still shuddering through the aftershocks, you take him into your mouth, wrapping your other hand around Baekhyun.
“Not gonna last long,” Baekhyun groans, tipping his head forward.
“Me neither,” Chanyeol replies, fisting a hand in your hair.
It doesn’t take long until they both release, Chanyeol into your mouth and Baekhyun across your tits and stomach. He drags his fingers through the mess, slipping his fingers past your waiting, open lips, giving both of them a fucked-out smile. You’re spent, your limbs turning to jelly, and if you had any say in the matter you’d just sink into the mattress and be a part of the furniture forever.
“You okay?” Baekhyun asks softly, running a hand through your hair.
“Mhm,” you hum, kissing him. You turn your head towards Chanyeol to give him the same treatment. “That was insane.”
“You’re so perfect,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Let me get you some water and clean you up.”
“Get me one too?” Baekhyun asks, fluttering his eyelashes.
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and flips him off, but comes back juggling three glasses of water all the same. They both work to clean you up, whispering soft praise into your skin the entire time. Through the haze, you realize that they’ve gotten you ready for bed, and they’ve gotten ready for it as well. You’ve never done this before, spent the night with both of them, but it’s as easy and natural as though you’d done it for years.
“So who won?” Chanyeol asks.
“I thought you made up the argument,” you reply.
“No, your challenge. The one about making you cum.”
“It was a tie,” you mumble sleepily, curling into Baekhyun’s chest. “One for Baek, one for you, one for you both.”
“That’s not very satisfying,” Baekhyun frowns.
“Try again tomorrow, then,” you reply. “Now be quiet. I want to go to bed.”
Chanyeol settles into your other side, draping his warm body across your back, and the three of you drift off into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
happy june! happy pride! happy almost gemini season! happy summer!!! everyone celebrate by drinking a shirley temple and eat some peaches by a body of water and get a little bit gayer!!!
↳ synopsis: after your first full day on the strip, baekhyun takes you to try your hand at gambling for the first time. you decide to take a little gamble yourself.
↳ wc: 6.3k
↳ content: baekhyun x f!reader | sugar daddy!au | smut | significant age gap (10+ years), lots of profanity, gambling, unwanted interaction with a man
↳ this work is so nsfw that i need a full other section for smut warnings. minors go the fuck away! warnings: heavy d/s themes, dom!baekhyun, bratty-ish! sub reader, oral (both receiving), face fucking, public/risky sex acts, dirty talk, mild degradation, lots of praise, fingering, orgasm denial, baek has a begging kink lowkey, overstim, rough n raw p in v, spanking, choking, dacryphilia, daddy kink, cum play and cum eating, aftercare, hints at subspace and mild sub drop
↳ a/n: holy fuck has it really been two months? i'm so sorry!! life got in the way and i felt a little stuck with this fic, but i miraculously got cured of my writer's block and spat this out. please enjoy!! it is so filthy!!
The sun is streaming through the curtains when you wake.
You turn, your eyes still closed, your arm brushing against something warm and firm. You open your eyes to see Baekhyun’s sleeping form, turned towards you. His eyelashes fan delicately across his cheeks, the rise and fall of his chest steady and soothing.
It feels like a dream. Last night, exhaustion had settled into your bones, your energy seeping away into the warmth of the bathwater. You could hardly finish getting unready, gently rejecting Baekhyun’s offers to carry you to bed. You fought to stay awake while he showered, but eventually the clutches of sleep won out and you found yourself drifting away before he returned.
So, you hadn’t gotten to see him like this, sleeping peacefully. Sleep makes his face look even softer, even younger. You didn’t think that Baekhyun carried the evidence of stress in his face, but here, those faint hints are completely gone. You scoot closer, trying to gain more of his warmth without waking him.
Despite your best efforts, he stirs, throwing an arm around you, half-unconscious. You press your body against his, your head tucked into his chest.
“Morning,” he mumbles. His voice is thick and raspy with sleep. It’s much too endearing and arousing all at once. “You passed out last night.”
“Sorry,” you say softly. “We had quite a night.”
He laughs sleepily. “We did. Did you know that you scrunch your nose in your sleep?”
“No, I did not. Now I’ll be thinking about that every time I go to sleep.”
“Don’t.” He yawns, turning closer into your warmth. “It’s cute.”
The new angle that Baekhyun’s turned his body into has made you acutely aware of… something pressing against your thigh. You move your leg against him to test what you think it is and he shivers. “Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly. “It’ll go away soon.”
“What if I don’t want it to?”
Baekhyun opens his eyes for the first time, blearily peering at you with growing interest. “Hm?”
You pull the covers back just enough for you to wriggle your way underneath, sliding down until you’re faced with his tented boxers. You pull them down, Baekhyun exhaling heavily.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, sleep still clinging to the edges of his voice.
“I want to.” You gently lick a stripe up from the base of his not fully hard cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. The salty tang of his precum hits your tongue just as he shudders.
You feel the sheets above you being pulled away, releasing you from their confines. Baekhyun watches you, propped up on his elbows, his hair still sticking up and eyes still soft from sleep. “If you’re gonna do that,” he says, “I want to watch.”
You take his now fully erect cock in one hand and wrap your lips around the tip, maintaining eye contact as you sink down onto it ever so slowly. His breathing deepens as you bottom out, hitting the back of your throat. Saliva pools on your tongue, gathering in your mouth as you pull back up, keeping up your torturously slow pace.
Baekhyun swallows, his lips parting when you continue to bob your head up and down, the muscles in his jaw tightening. You notice that his hands start to mess with the sheets beneath him, fidgeting with the cloth. A groan rumbles from deep within his chest when you dip your tongue into the slit, the extra spit gathered in your mouth dribbling down the sides of his member.
“You’re being a tease,” he laughs breathlessly.
“Was it obvious?” You grin and sink down onto him once more, hollowing your cheeks. You position yourself so that you’re on your knees, arching your back slightly so that your ass is on display.
Baekhyun bites back a moan, knuckles turning white as he grips the sheets. “You little minx,” he mumbles. “Sometimes I just wanna—”
“Wanna what?”
His expression clouds for a brief second, seemingly at war with his thoughts. Then, slowly, he reaches his hand out and settles it on the top of your head. Not applying any pressure, not pushing. Waiting.
“You remember the colors?”
You nod. Eager.
“Color?”
“Green,” you whisper.
“Get on the floor.” His voice is low, commanding, just barely fraying at the edges as his control starts to slip. You follow him off the bed, sinking to your knees on the carpet, opening your mouth wide. Your tongue lolls out and he groans, putting both hands on the back of your head. “Tap my thigh if you need a breather,” he grunts, before pushing the fat head of his cock into your mouth.
He’s gentle at first, only thrusting shallowly onto your tongue. You focus on breathing through your nose and hollowing your cheeks, trying to get used to the sensation of him controlling the pace down your throat.
He pushes in further than before and your throat restricts, gagging around him. “Look up here,” he says. You blink up at him tearily and his pace stutters. “God, you’re so pretty.”
You feel wetness pooling beneath your thighs and you shift restlessly, trying to somehow ease the ache and need. “You wanna touch yourself? Go ahead, you’re being so good for me.” Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties and you circle your clit, still slightly aching and sensitive from last night. Choked moans sound each time the tip of his cock brushes against the back of your throat, spit slipping from the corners of your mouth down to your tits.
It doesn’t take long until you feel Baekhyun’s fingers twitching in your hair, his hips rolling into your mouth with a little less precision, a little less control. His jaw tightens as he mutters, “I’m gonna cum. You want it?”
You nod, hollowing your cheeks even more, pressing the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock as best as you can. In a couple of thrusts, he’s spilling down your throat, so far down that you can barely taste him. You cough when he pulls out, immediately leaning into his touch when he cups your jaw.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” you whisper. Your throat is going to be sore in a bit, and your insides feel a little bit like jelly, but you are good.
He smiles, pulling you up to your feet and back onto the bed. “Let me thank you properly,” he says, before parting your thighs. Your head hits the sheets as he descends onto you, his tongue taking you back to ecstasy in no time.
You quickly learn that the Strip is crowded.
Baekhyun’s hand holds fast onto yours, guiding you gently through the neverending sea of people. The other tourists around you have a tendency to just stop directly in place in order to capture the perfect picture, no matter how many people’s paths get interrupted by the abrupt halt. You nearly bump into several of these people, and would have if not for the firm guidance of Baekhyun’s grasp.
“Picture?” he asks, having the decency of course to pull you out of the way of the flow of the foot traffic. He points at the view behind you: the Eiffel Tower of Paris Las Vegas overlooks the water, providing a picturesque backdrop.
You shuffle awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to pose,” you admit.
“It’s easy, I’ll help you.”
He takes out his phone and tells you exactly where to stand, telling you how to place your arms and your legs, exactly how to brush through your hair. He grins at the view of you in his phone camera. “Beautiful!” he calls out, snapping a couple of pics from different angles.
It’s equally endearing and embarrassing, but you find your comfort level growing the longer that he takes photos, fielding compliments your way. You switch places, and he immediately poses in the most flattering ways, cycling between smiley, cute poses and more elevated ones with ease. He’s so handsome sometimes that it’s annoying. He definitely could have been a model in another lifetime.
“Do you two want a picture together?”
You turn and see a young woman with a bright smile standing behind you. “Sure, yes please!” you say, mirroring her grin. You hand her the phone and walk up to join Baekhyun.
“Can you take a few?” he calls out.
“Of course!”
Baekhyun wraps his arm around your shoulders and you wrap yours around his waist, smiling at the camera. You take a few like this, and then feel Baekhyun’s lips in your hair. You look up at him in shock and he grins at you before bending down and placing a kiss against your lips.
“Cute!” the woman says. You feel your cheeks burning, and you turn back to look at the view while Baekhyun goes to retrieve your phone, trying to compose yourself for a moment. The interaction was so domestic, so loving, but most of all it was so easy. For a second your heart squeezes in your chest, hammering against your rib cage. It’s such a stark difference from the way you were just days before, when the only public displays of affection he would allow himself to commit would be holding your hand.
“Okay?” Baekhyun asks, rejoining your side. His hand slips back into your grasp easily, fingers intertwining.
You squeeze reassuringly. “All good.”
You spend the day exploring, walking through the different hotels and marveling at just how distinct they are: from the glossy, shiny marble of Caesar’s Palace, to the beautiful fountains at the Bellagio, to the pink-tinged, lively vibe of the Cosmo. The two of you take more pictures, taking small breaks at each hotel to do a bit of people-watching. Eventually, you fully stop for a break to have a late lunch at Din Tai Fung, joining the queue as neither of you had made a reservation. As you wait, you watch the people occupying the slots nearest you with mild interest.
“Do you want to gamble?” Baekhyun asks, following your gaze.
“Maybe,” you hum. Grinning, you turn to him. “I mean, it’s all rigged, right? Even so, a small part of my brain is wondering if I maybe could win something.”
Baekhyun shrugs, smiling softly. “With your luck? Most likely.”
You have no idea how lucky I am, you think, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair. “I think we can keep walking around or do other things and maybe try it after dinner.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Sure. You wanna play Blackjack?”
You hum. The slots seem easier to understand, but the thought of sitting at a machine for hours doesn’t sound all too appealing to you. “I’ve never played. Is it complicated?”
“Not at all.” He nods when the hostess calls his name, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back to lead you to the table. “I’ll teach you.”
The casino is noisy at night. People dressed in partywear flit through the walkways, all in various states of inebriation, calling out to their friends to wait up for them, or to get a move on. It’s a stark contrast from the quiet of your hotel room where you had retreated for the late afternoon to rest your feet, and the upscale vibe at dinner where you had some absolutely incredible seafood. This is chaos. Bright lights, dinging and bells from the slots sounding every few seconds, noisy people at every turn.
As if sensing your overwhelm, Baekhyun hooks his arm around yours and keeps you close. He looks good in anything, if spending the day beside him in his casual clothes was sufficient proof, but he looks especially handsome right now in his all-black dinner wear. He leads you to the Blackjack section, which is blessedly significantly quieter and darker than the rest of the casino.
“So you want as close to 21 without going over,” you say to him quietly.
“Yep,” he says, smiling. “Just use your best judgement, trust your gut.”
You go to an empty table and you slide into the chair next to Baekhyun, a little unsure but trying to not let it show on your face. He pulls out some cash and splits it in half, putting it into two stacks on the table, one in front of you and one in front of himself.
The dealer takes the cash and replaces it with chips, dealing cards to Baekhyun first. He gets a four and a five, while the dealer gets a seven. He taps the table to signal a hit and gets a ten, then waves his hand over his cards to signal a stand. The dealer flips his second card to reveal a six, then a Queen, then reaches into the suitcase to give Baekhyun a chip.
“Lucky start,” he grins.
The dealer turns to you next, dealing you a six and a five, while he gets a King. You glance at Baekhyun who gives you an encouraging nod. You tap the table, and the dealer gives you a ten.
A perfect 21.
“Hell yeah!” Baekhyun laughs with glee as you wave your hands above your cards. The dealer gives a small smile at his outburst as he gives you a chip to match your bet.
You play for a while. You’re up for a little bit, then down, but then back up. Baekhyun isn’t so lucky, and slowly makes a dent through his pile of chips until he’s down to about half of his original stack. He strikes up a conversation with the dealer, who’s pleasant and kind if not a little bit shy. You seem to be in your own little bubble for a while until you feel a tap on your shoulder.
You turn to see a man about your age, if not a few years older, who clearly looks a little bit drunk.. “Hey, pretty,” the man says. “Why you gambling all by yourself?”
Your eyebrows furrow and you frown. Baekhyun clears his throat. “She’s with me.”
The man stares at the two of you for a few moments, but it isn’t until you slide your hand over Baekhyun’s knee that he finally gets the message. “Damn, my bad,” he says, putting his hands up and walking away.
“Are you okay, miss?” the dealer asks when you turn your attention back to the table.
You sigh loudly and then smile at him. “Yes, thank you.” You pick up a chip with your free hand and make another bet, your other still planted firmly onto Baekhyun’s knee.
His demeanor has shifted, not as easygoing anymore. You can see it in the tension in his neck, the way he’s slightly clenching his jaw. You feel a twinge of guilt. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why that man didn’t think the two of you were together.
“Baek, it’s okay,” you say quietly.
He tenses up even more, but then deflates and sighs. “I know.” He says it without meeting your eyes.
You rub your thumb over his knee absentmindedly as you think, glancing behind your shoulder. You startle when you realize the guy is still there, talking to a friend while shooting glances back at your way. Anger and annoyance flicker in your gut. Keep moving, dick. He catches your eye and winks.
Repulsed, you turn your attention back to the table, an idea forming in your head. If he wasn’t going to take your relationship with Baekhyun seriously… well, then, you would make it impossible to ignore. It could end up badly. It could piss Baekhyun off, or the guy could just leave before you have the chance to really pull it off, or it could get the two of you kicked out of the Blackjack room. But hey, what's Vegas without a little gambling?
It's risky, but with the way that you’re sitting, it’s impossible for the dealer to see that you’ve begun moving your hand slowly up Baekhyun’s thigh. His leg tenses underneath you, sucking in a breath through his nose so quietly that only you can hear it. He continues to play his hand, tapping the table to hit once again. Bust.
You play out your turn as if nothing were going on, as if your hand was not now settling in Baekhyun’s lap, brushing your knuckles lightly over the growing tent in his pants. He coughs into his fist, looking away. You hit, getting yet another perfect 21.
“Excuse me,” the dealer says, “I need to get more chips.” As soon as he leaves the table, Baekhyun whirls towards you.
“What are you doing?” he hisses.
You shrug, feigning ignorance. “Nothing.”
He startles when you squeeze, palming at his clothed cock. “If you keep going like this you’re going to regret it.”
The darkness in his tone makes you shiver. Finally, what the two of you have been dancing around this entire time. The depth of Baekhyun’s desires, what he’s wanted to do to you so badly that he held himself back from just touching you for a full year. The images flitting through your imagination immediately makes you wet, rubbing your thighs together subtly. It only makes you want to push his buttons more. “Is that a promise?”
Baekhyun’s nostrils flare and he grabs your wrist, putting your hand into your own lap when the dealer returns. He flashes an easy smile at him. “Actually, we’re going to go now,” Baekhyun says. He takes a couple of chips from his pile and slides them across the table. “These are for you.”
“Oh thank you, sir!” he says. He cashes out your chips and hands the stack of cash back to Baekhyun before turning to you. “And thank you too, miss.”
“Thanks for playing with us,” you reply. You’re not as good at hiding the shakiness in your voice as Baekhyun is. When you stand, Baekhyun tightens his jacket around himself, the perfect length to hide the front of his pants. You pass by the man as you leave the Blackjack station, seething. You merely give him a polite nod.
You wordlessly find your way to the elevators, Baekhyun stewing silently beside you. As soon as the metal doors slide shut, he pushes your back against the wall, lips descending onto yours. He captures your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you, your hands flying to the nape of his neck to steady yourself.
“What the fuck was that,” he mutters against your mouth. “Everyone could have seen.”
“I wanted them to,” you pant, throwing your head back as he attacks your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror, cheeks flushed, pinned between the wall and his body. The image makes your blood run hot. “Let them see.”
The elevator stops on your floor and he all but tugs you toward your room, fumbling with the room key. As soon as you’re inside, he throws his jacket onto the floor, holding you in his arms as he walks you backwards towards the bed.
“You want this?” he asks, hushed. “You want me to make you regret it?”
You swallow, burying your fingers in his hair. It feels something like the point of no return, but you can’t lie: You’re absolutely dizzy with anticipation.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“If I sense that it’s too much for you, I will stop it.” His voice is low, serious. You’ve never heard him like this before. “If you don’t respond if I ask for a color, I’ll stop. If I feel like you’re lying, I’ll stop. You won’t disappoint me, and I won’t be mad. The only way you’ll make me feel bad is if I hurt you and I don’t do anything to stop it.” His fingers come up to brush against your cheek and he steps forward, forcing you to take a step back again, and again, until the back of your knees hits the bed. “Do you understand?”
You swallow. “I do.” Your voice sounds small, all your bravado from the casino long gone. Your blood thrums in anticipation, buzzing like electricity underneath your skin.
He makes quick work of your clothes, stripping you bare and laying you down onto the bed. Two fingers run up and down your folds shallowly, just barely dipping in, feeling your wetness. You swallow, your breathing quickening with each passing minute, your patience growing incredibly thin.
You wriggle your hips experimentally and Baekhyun immediately ceases his motion, leaning down to kiss you instead. You whine against his lips and he responds with a light pinch on your inner thigh.
“Where are your manners?” he murmurs softly.
You have half a mind to retort back, make some smart-ass comment that will piss him off further, but what comes out instead is a stuttered, “I-I’m sorry.”
He pulls back and smiles at you, and your insides feel all fuzzy at that, preening at his approval. “Good,” he responds. His hand returns to your slick entrance, slipping two fingers inside.
He goes slowly, taking the time to explore your pussy, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your gummy walls. It’s agonizingly slow, but you don’t dare make another comment, instead throwing your head back against the pillows. His thumb brushes lightly against your clit, just enough to send a spark running up your spine.
“I didn’t think you had it in you to be a brat,” Baekhyun says, curling his fingers inside of you. “You’re always so polite.”
“Polite?” you breathe, arching into the touch. “What do you mean?”
He hums, pressing onto your clit once more. “It’s always please and thank you. You never ask for more, you never tell me when you’re displeased.”
You laugh breathlessly. “Because you always give me what I want, Baek. I’ve never had to ask quite like this.”
Something inside of him flips, eyes darkening, nostrils flaring slightly. He looks up at you through his lashes and cocks his head. “Oh?” He angles his hand so that the heel of his palm is grinding against your clit, applying stimulation while continuing to crook his fingers inside of you. You whimper, thighs twitching under his touch. “So you’re saying I’ve spoiled you?”
“Mhmm, oh God.” He begins to thrust his fingers inside of you rapidly, your eyes fluttering shut.
Baekhyun leans in close, lips tracing the shell of your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. “All the clothes, and the gifts, this trip,” he whispers, “Anything you could ever want, I just give it to you? That how you like it?”
“Yes,” you pant, hips chasing the friction. You feel yourself teetering on the edge, spurred on by the low murmur of his voice in your ear. “Baek, I’m close—”
“You want it, baby?” His tone is low, dangerous, dripping with a silky sweetness that conceals something dirtier. “You want to cum?”
You nod desperately, grabbing onto his arm. “Please, please—”
He retreats, withdrawing his hand at the speed of light, so quickly that your body doesn’t even realize that it’s gone at first. And then, the frustration, the emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing. You cry out, screwing your eyes shut.
“I’ve spoiled you too much, I think,” Baekhyun hums, tucking your hair behind your ear casually as if he hasn’t just left you on the cliff of your orgasm.
“No, no, please.” A frantic, distraught need fills your chest as you cling to him, your nails digging into his bicep. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll be good.”
Baekhyun undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt, revealing more and more of his chest as he goes. You immediately spring into action, sitting up to undo his belt, his erection painfully obvious even through his slacks. He pushes open his shirt fully, the silk falling down his back, and you lean in to press a kiss to his sternum, looking up with eyes that you hope convey the depth of your need for him.
He groans, letting you pull his belt off and his slacks down. “You’re so pretty. So gorgeous when you’re desperate for me.”
You whine, no longer in the mood to play the brat part. You need him. Now. You slip your hand under his boxers and jerk him off slowly, rubbing your thumb through the precum leaking at his tip.
“Please,” you beg. “Fuck me, please.”
Baekhyun pulls you off of him and positions you on your elbows and knees, fully discarding his clothing. You wait with bated breath as he pulls your cheeks apart, completely exposing yourself to him. Your face blooms with heat, squeaking when you feel something cold and wet dropping onto your hole.
“You’re already a mess and I’ve barely done anything,” he chuckles, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, the glob of his spit mixing with your juices.
“Baekhyun—” You moan brokenly, trying to push yourself back onto him but he holds you in place. “I can’t take it anymore, fuck, please.”
He slides into you with one slick motion, stilling his hips against the curve of your ass. His fingers press down between your shoulderblades, pressing you down into the mattress. You just barely have enough time to move your head to one side to be able to breathe before he pulls your wrists behind you, holding them with one hand. The other smacks your ass. Hard.
“Fuck!” You don’t recognize your own voice, high and reedy. He does it again, and again, eliciting a squeal each time. You wriggle in his hold, but his grasp around your wrists keeps you in place, each movement you make calling attention to the fact that he’s buried deep inside of you, clenching around his throbbing cock.
“Why was my sweet girl acting so slutty downstairs, hm?” Baekhyun coos. Smack. “You needed everyone to know that you belong to me?”
“Y-Yes,” you whimper. “And I— I wanted to tease you.”
“Why did you want to tease me, baby?”
The truth tumbles out of your mouth. You don’t even get a chance to stop it. “So you’d fuck me like this.”
Baekhyun laughs, letting go of your wrists and planting both hands on either side of your hips. “Oh yeah? Like this?” The first thrust feels like it’s reaching the deepest parts inside of you, your eyes immediately fluttering shut. He keeps up a ruthless pace, snapping his hips brutally against yours. His hand finds its way onto the back of your head, pushing you into the covers.
“Mmm, yes, fuck, just like that!” You grab at the sheets, trying to lift yourself up the tiniest fraction, but it’s hard to get any leverage with the way that he’s pounding into you. You settle for arching your back even more, giving in to the delicious friction.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he grunts. His fingers are digging into your hips, angry red marks blooming onto your skin, hard enough to bruise. “Who made you feel like this, hm?”
“Y-You did.”
“Louder.”
You shiver, a loud moan tearing from your throat of its own volition. “You did, Baekhyun!” Your head is spinning, overwhelmed by the totality of his attention.
“Can’t hear you,” he taunts, reaching under to grab at your tits, pinching your nipple until you cry out. “Who did?”
“F-Fuck, you, Baekhyun!” you scream.
He stops suddenly, allowing you some reprieve from the brutal pace. He pulls out halfway, his grip on you loosening. “You wanna cum? Fucking earn it.”
You push yourself up onto your elbows and roll your hips back, fucking yourself open onto his cock. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you’re greeted by the image of his devouring gaze, watching himself slip inside of you over and over again. Awestruck, hungry. His eyes flick up to meet yours and he leans forward, cupping your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks slightly. He tilts your chin up even further towards him.
“Good girl,” he groans, slipping his thumb into your mouth. He laughs under his breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him at the name. “You like that.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
You quicken the pace, throwing yourself back onto him. He moans, pushing his thumb further past your lips, your eyes widening the more that the pressure in your core grows, tears wobbling in your vision. “Don’t look at me like that,” he growls. “Don’t look at me like you’re so innocent.” He lets you go and regains control of your body, pushing into you with both hands planted back on the sides of your hips.
You cry out, burying your face into the covers once again, your mouth open in a steady stream of noise. You’re half aware that you’re drooling out of the corner of your lips, a wet trail of your spit down your chin where Baekhyun had pulled out his thumb. But you don’t give a fuck, can’t care when his cock is entering you so perfectly, the crescendo of your orgasm getting closer and closer.
“I need to cum,” you cry, tilting your head to the side so that he can hear you better. “It’s too much.”
“Ask nicely, princess.” Suddenly, your upper half is hoisted into the air as Baekhyun grabs both of your wrists and pulls them back towards him, pulling your body taut. You can hardly hold yourself up, your head slouching forward as your body jerks with each of his strong thrusts.
“Please,” you whine. “Please, please, please, can I cum?”
“Do it. Now.”
When it hits, it feels like the Earth has ceased to spin, stuttering on its axis, tilting your entire world off-kilter. It ripples through you like white-hot fire throughout your entire body. You choke on his name, unable to hide from him in this position, to cover your mouth or grab onto the sheets to ground yourself. You’re forced to show him exactly how good it feels, shaking in his hold.
Gently, he sets you back down. He pulls out of you and reaches over to grab a pillow, positioning it underneath your hips. The instant you lay on top of it, he enters you once more, covering your body completely. He begins to move, a slow, deep, torturous grind against you, and you immediately drop your face into the covers, swearing breathlessly. In this position, he feels so deep you swear to God you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Your walls are much too sensitive, fluttering around his thick cock, your body still shuddering through the aftershocks.
Baekhyun’s hand wraps around your neck, pulling your head up without applying any significant pressure. He kisses the back of your head, your temple, the shell of your ear, entirely too tender for the way he’s destroying you.
“Color?” he murmurs, flexing his fingers against your throat experimentally. You moan at the realization of what he’s about to do.
“Green,” you whimper. “Green, green, green.”
He chuckles before squeezing ever so slightly, testing the waters. You raise your hips back into him, trying to fuck yourself onto him despite your sensitivity only to find yourself trapped between the pillow and the hard, lean plane of his body.
He squeezes even more, shifting his body so that he’s hitting you at an entirely new angle. You whine, taking a shuddering breath on instinct but finding your airway restricted. You feel dizzy with a new kind of pleasure that you’ve never felt before, one that takes over your body from the inside out, one that makes you kick your feet uselessly underneath him because of how overwhelming it is. You feel almost high off of it, floating in absolute bliss.
“My good girl,” Baekhyun whispers, kissing your temple. “So pretty, so eager to please.”
You let out a choked sob, nodding frantically, trying to take everything that he’s giving you. His cock feels like it’s hitting every part of you, stretching you out deliciously. You don’t even realize how close you’ve been to cumming until he releases his grip on your throat. You inhale desperately, and as the air fills your lungs your orgasm ripples through you, turning your mind into static as you scream. You feel the tears streaming down your face before you hear the whimpering cries coming from your own throat.
Baekhyun rolls you onto your back and you see a hint of him return, the crease in his eyebrows starting to form. “Color?”
“Yellow,” you pant. “Keep going, but slower.”
He smiles fondly, kissing you sweetly before traveling down your body, sucking bruises into your sweat-damp skin. He reaches your soaked and sensitive pussy and settles between your thighs.
“I’ll be nice, angel,” he whispers reverently, kissing your thigh. “Promise.”
And he keeps it. He takes care not to overwhelm you too much, feather-light kisses all over your entrance. He’s not so much eating you out as he is making out with your pussy, plush lips brushing against your folds with meticulous care, pausing when you lurch at a touch that’s too much. It’s enough to keep arousal pulsing through your veins, but soft enough for you to catch your breath for a second. Your head still feels a bit like it’s spinning, but the overwhelming high has settled a little into a light, foggy haze.
“I’m ready,” you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. “Fuck me. Please”
Baekhyun’s hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat. He bends you in half, caging your face in with his arms, entering your sensitive, puffy walls once more. His lips capture yours in a deep kiss and he grinds into you, hitting your g-spot dead on.
“F-Fuck.” You tremble, shuddering, splintering underneath him, babbling a mix of his name and wanton moans. You can’t even begin to think about anything else, just the insistent pressure of his cock inside of you and his quiet groans. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking him against you, meeting his gaze. Slowly, you give him a tired, blissed-out smile.
And fuck he almost loses it right there. You’re a wreck. Your eyes are glossy, glazed over, mascara running down your cheeks, lips dark and swollen. But you’re so beautiful. So sweet. And you’re his. His to ruin, to mark, to put back together again, to—
“I’m yours,” you whimper, lost in the haze of your pleasure. He doesn’t even think you know that you’ve said it. “Yours, Baek.”
He moans, and that’s all the warning you get before he suddenly ups the pace, pounding into you. It’s sudden, and your body doesn’t know how to keep up with the instant change. You’re on the edge again, walls fluttering, the incoming rush clawing its way out of you.“I’m gonna cum again,” you wail, eyes screwing shut. Your nails rake down his back, leaving trails of red in their wake. Your orgasm hits like a clap of thunder and you cling to him, tucking your chin to your chest as you shake. You can’t even stop the words from falling out of your mouth. “Cumming again, Daddy, fuck—”
Baekhyun’s hips stutter, dark eyes flitting down to yours in surprise. “Shit.” He groans, a deep noise that sounds like it’s been punched out of him. “What did you just—”
“Daddy, please,” you whimper, voice breaking. You look up at him through teary eyelashes, pleasure fogging your brain. “Cum for me.”
“Holy— fuck.” Baekhyun thrusts shallowly a few times before pulling out, jerking himself off with a loud groan. His cum paints your stomach and your tits, the warm droplets hitting your skin. His chest heaves, breathing raggedly as he drags his fingers through the mess, slipping his fingers past your lips to make you taste him. You do so greedily, sucking on his fingers as if they were his cock, the salty taste on your tongue. He exhales, giving you a tired smile, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip.
Slowly, you come back to Earth.
Baekhyun cleans you quickly, wiping up the mess with the tissues from the nightstand. You watch quietly, wordlessly, before you swallow.
“Baek?”
He looks up at you, pausing his actions. “Yes, baby?”
You don’t know where it’s coming from, this vulnerability. As the adrenaline and endorphins leave your body, it’s replaced by an emotional, messy feeling. Your voice wobbles as you ask, “Was I good?”
Baekhyun melts. He throws the tissues away and scoops you into his arms, laying down with you on his chest. “Oh, angel, you were perfect,” he murmurs. He kisses your temple, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. “You were so, so good for me. You’re my perfect girl.”
“Are you mad at me for earlier?”
“No, princess.” He brushes his fingers through your hair and smiles at you fondly. “If I was actually mad at you, I wouldn’t have been turned on, okay? I would have made that very, very clear.”
“Okay,” you whimper, then laugh self-consciously at yourself. “Sorry, I don’t know why I— I don’t know why I feel like this.”
“It’s normal,” he says quietly. “What we did was intense and now you’re adjusting back. But I’ve got you. I’ll do anything you need. Do you want me to get you some clothes?”
You nod, and he kisses you on the top of your head before he leaves your side to dig in your suitcase for some pajamas. “Wait no,” you say suddenly. “I want yours.”
Baekhyun laughs softly, then pivots to grab one of your pairs of panties and one of his old t-shirts, grabbing a pair of boxers for himself. He helps you dress, your limbs still feeling a bit sensitive and awkward.
“Anything else I can do for you now?” he asks.
Your voice breaks as you hold your arms out. “C’mere.”
Later, he’ll run you a bath and order ice cream through room service, and you’ll find a late-night cartoon that will play in the background until you both drift off to sleep. But for now, he climbs under the covers with you and holds you close, kissing you tenderly like you’re the most precious thing in the entire world.
part four (final) ->
taglist: @kkurubae @lovecomesbaek @yjwpout @iywxzo @xsooahx @lysslovers @exokateblr @raspage @littleflowercrown13 @10hrs26mn @raquelle00— please let me know if you'd like to be added!
wait i was the one who sent the anon request on readers fingers… i was wrong and got confused i change my mind please MORE BAEKHYUN’S THUMB/FINGERS IN READER’S MOUTH PLEAAAAAASEEEEE (DESPERATE)
i'm dead as hell i love ur energy anon
baekhyun x f!reader | wc: 674 | dom baek, finger sucking, raw p in v, somewhat risky sex. dirty talk, very mild degradation, choking (omfg i'm in a mood; this ended up bring pretty filthy oopsies)
baekhyun's body completely covers yours, his chest pressed against your back. somehow, he still has the stamina to snap his hips into yours, even after emptying himself into you less than an hour ago. it's filthy, wet between your thighs and sticky between your bodies. his lips press against your sweat-damp temple as he grinds his cock into you, coaxing out your whimpers.
"mm, tired already?" he laughs, reaching around to cup your chin with his hand and jerk your face towards him. "i'm not even close to done with you."
your body is sore, muscles raw from the friction, but you don't give a fuck—the arousal thrums through you all the same, toe-curling pulses of pleasure that zip up your spine every time baekhyun thrusts inside. you're just about to open your mouth to make a remark when you hear the distant sound of baekhyun's front door opening. it's baekhyun's roommate, back from his night out about two hours early.
you don't even get a chance to protest. baekhyun slips his index and middle fingers inside of your mouth, pressing down lightly on your tongue. he shoots you one warning look before turning his attention to his closed bedroom door.
"yo, you back already?" he yells out, his voice remarkably steady. "don't come in here, i'm taking a dump."
"gross," jongin calls back. "i'm boutta head out again, i forgot this place is cash only and i was passing by so thought i'd grab some."
baekhyun hasn't stopped. he continues to grind into you, only minutely slower than the brutal pace he set before. you squeeze your eyes shut in your efforts to keep quiet, sucking around the digits in your mouth to give you something, anything else for you to focus on.
his hips stutter, biting back a curse under his breath. "alright, i'll see ya tonight!" he says, voice wavering slightly.
"see ya, baek." there's the sound of some footsteps, and then the door clicks closed.
"holy fucking shit," baekhyun groans, pushing his fingers even further into your mouth, making you gag slightly. "you know how fucking hard it was to act normal with you sucking my fingers like that?"
he pulls out of you abruptly and flips you onto your back, throwing one leg over his shoulder as he pounds into your sensitive cunt. he grabs your chin, placing his thumb against your quivering bottom lip.
"fuck, baek!" you grab onto his forearm as tears well up in your eyes. "t-too much!"
"you can take it, pretty girl," he coos, slipping the tip of his thumb past your parted lips. he groans when you suck on it instinctively, looking up at him with watery eyes. "you look so fucking slutty right now," he whispers, the fingers of his free hand wrapping around your neck. "makes me wanna fucking ruin you."
"do it then," you whimper.
his fingers tighten around your throat as he moves impossibly faster, bringing you to the edge much, much quicker than you anticipated. there's hardly any buildup at all before your orgasm slams into you, sending your eyes rolling back as your body quakes, tongue pressing against the pad of his thumb. you gasp for breath as he releases his hold on your throat, his hands instead finding a home on your hips as he slams into you, spilling inside with a deep groan.
"fuck," he swallows, chest heaving, arms shaking as he lays on top of you. he cradles your head between his arms gently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection. "what the fuck was that."
"i should be asking you that," you pant. "now i know to stick your fingers in my mouth if i want to get you really worked up."
baekhyun laughs. "oh no," he says sarcastically. "what ever will i do? my beautiful girlfriend wants to suck on my fingers, someone save me."
"you're so annoying," you huff. "i'm going to sleep."
"what about round three?" he pouts.
you gape at him. "you're insatiable."
"and you love it."
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⟡ summary: you ain't even friends, just enemies with benefits.
⟡ content: highly +18 content, mdni, smut, plot with porn, office au, enemies to fb (but the thing is you're not buddies lmao), mention of alcohol, swearing, mention of drunk sex, oral sex (both receiving), slight sub and dom leaning (switchies!!), fingering, marathon sex, facesitting (pussydrunk!junmyeon), masturbation, slight dacryphilia, raw sex, dirty talking, edging, slight choking, creampie, cum eating, overstimulation, squirting | junmyeon x f!reader | wordcount: 11.7k words (10.9k certified enemies behavior + 0.8k bonus!!!)
⟡ a/note: omg, it's finally here !!!! pls read the content warning first bc this is probably the nastiest thing i've ever written... but yeah, i'm not sorry !!! i really hope this is worth the wait and all the hype i've build up around. alsooo, happy birthday to the love of my life, my junmyeonnie. mhwaaa <3
You were still drained from last night and whatever reckless truce that happened.
The mattress shifted as Junmyeon moved, his heavy arm finally lifting from your waist. He didn’t bother being gentle as he untucked the covers, leaving your naked body exposed to the morning chill. You let out a frustrated whine at his sheer lack of manners.
“You’re remarkably annoying this morning,” you muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled, as you tried to tuck yourself into the sheets. “It’s dark outside, c’mon!”
Junmyeon let out a low, mocking laugh. Of course, he did it on purpose. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice grating on your nerves. You heard the metallic slide of a zipper as he stepped into his jeans. “Sunrises are inspiring, y’know?”
“Get out!” Tired of him and his effortless energy, you bolted upright, grabbed the decorative pillow beside you, and hurled it with every bit of strength you had left. Junmyeon leaned to the left, letting it thud harmlessly against the doorframe.
“Better luck next time,” he threw back, his laugh raspy and entirely too triumphant. “See you later, loser!” He was already halfway out the door.
Frustrated, you tried to make yourself sleep again, but when you were about to fall asleep, the distinct shut of the main door echoed through your quiet apartment. He was finally gone, heading back to his own place, which happened to be right next door.
The rivalry between you and Junmyeon was built in your first week; the air in the office seemed to sharpen whenever you both occupied the same room. You didn’t just disagree on everything; you two were capable of sabotaging each other if that meant the end of the other’s ego.
If you hit your sales goals, he tripled his. If he delivered a flawless presentation, you spent the next three hours perfecting a rebuttal that made his data look like a rough draft. You were both relentless, stubborn, fueled by a mutual, unspoken agreement that there was only room for one of you at the top. The “Seller of the Month” wasn’t just a prize anymore; it was the ultimate proof of superiority, and you’d rather work yourself to the bone than let him win.
The office had grown used to that tension between you. They joked about your rivalry, and saw the way you rolled your eyes when he spoke, and the way his jaw tightened whenever you took the lead in a meeting. They called it a personality clash, seeing it as an actual show.
Then came that team dinner.
The atmosphere was loud and celebratory, but you and Junmyeon were locked in your own private war. Both drunk, at the end of the table, arguing over a lead he’d clearly stolen from you.
The tension followed you on the shared taxi all the way home, finally boiling over as the elevator doors slid shut. You were barking at him, your face inches from him, fueled by months of suppressed adrenaline, ready to tear him apart—your finger poking into the fabric of his chest.
Junmyeon was tense. He didn’t argue back, at least, not with words. He moved closer, one hand slamming into the metal wall, the other one sliding down to grip your waist with bruising force. His mouth crashed onto yours to silence you. It was a collision. Stunned, you tasted his rage, but didn’t stop him. You pulled him into your space with a violence that surprised you both, your nails clawing through his shirt, searching for skin to punish.
By the time the doors opened to his—and your—floor, the war transitioned into something deeper. You two stumbled into his apartment, mouths still locked in a battle for dominance, trying to rip each other's clothes off.
The drinks had blinded you, blurring the hatred into a raw heat. Junmyeon backed you onto the bed, his movements jagged and demanding. He didn’t have to ask; your eyes said everything. You watched him drop between your legs, his eyes dark with hunger as he stripped away the last of your defenses.
When his mouth finally made contact with your soft skin, it was electric. He clearly knew what he was doing, tracing the sensitive lines of your inner thighs before focusing entirely on your pussy with a relentless hunger. Junmyeon was eating you out like he had been starving for months, his fingers hooked into your hips to hold you still while he drank you in.
“Shit—Junmyeon!”
Your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan against your folds. The sounds of wetness and his ragged, hot breath were so erotic that your legs were already shaking. He pushed harder, swirling his tongue in rhythmic circles until you were sobbing his name again, and again.
“Fuck…” he groaned. “You taste so fucking good.”
Junmyeon was winning. He knew it. You knew it, too. And yes, he wanted to be the only thing you could feel, the only thing you remembered as long as your inner thighs clamped his face, and your inner walls clenched at anything, already trembling against his mouth, knowing he was making you have the best orgasm in a long time.
But you weren’t finished. As soon as he tasted the last drop and hovered over you, your mouth crashed against his with possessive strength. When he finally sank into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to force him to stop being gentle. Of course, he got your silent beg and fucked you like your body had been made specifically for him. Each trust was a claim, each movement a silent way to call you his.
You traded bites on the shoulders and neck. You scratched down his back, your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched up to meet him, like you were competing to see who would break first. Every time he hit that perfect, sweet spot, he’d let out a growl against the crook of your neck, and you’d respond by pulling him deeper, refusing to let him have the final word.
When the end finally came, it was a mutual destruction. Junmyeon collapsed over you, his skin slick with sweat and his breathing ragged, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You weren’t any better, your fingers trembling, debating whether to hold him or not. But... both of you refused to really move.
“T-this was a mistake, Kim,” you breathed, breaking the ice, your voice a shaky whisper.
Junmyeon shifted, his jaw tightening as he looked down at you, his eyes still dark and unhinged. “The worst one of my life.”
However, his hand was already sliding back down to your hip, his thumb tracing the jagged mark he’d left there. Of course, you did fuck again that night, and the next days after... and the next weeks, like hooking up and hating each other were part of a balance.
You walked into the office with your jaw set and your stomach growling, the lack of breakfast making your temper a live wire. The moment you rounded the corner, you saw him.
Junmyeon was leaning against the edge of your desk, looking infuriatingly composed in a charcoal three-piece suit that hugged his shoulders perfectly. The silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose were a direct insult to your exhaustion—he looked stupidly, effortlessly attractive for 9 AM, especially for a man who had spent the night losing his mind in your sheets.
“You’re a minute late,” he noted, checking his watch with a slow, deliberate movement. A small, mocking smirk played on his lips. “Having trouble getting out of bed this morning?”
“Move,” you snapped, dropping your purse onto your chair with a heavy thug, “if you don’t wanna die today.”
Junmyeon let out a soft, raspy laugh. “Rude.”
“Get off my desk,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. “Go hover over somewhere else and let me work.”
“Easy, easy. I was just making sure you hadn’t fainted from exhaustion,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for you to catch his scent. “You seemed quite drained.”
“In your dreams,” you hissed, your eyes flashing. “Now get out before I report you for being a pain in the ass.”
Junmyeon straightened up, adjusting his cuffs with a smug, triumphant look. “See you at the briefing. Try to keep up.”
He could be incredibly annoying for no reason, and the urge to punch his perfect features was clear now, but he escaped before you could do anything.
And just like that, the rest of the morning was a blur of spreadsheets and mounting irritation.
“Hey, Junmyeon,” Chanyeol said, pointing toward his own neck. “You okay? You’ve got a couple of marks right there.”
You froze. Your hand was hovering over the print button, almost crumpling the documents in your other hand, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Junmyeon didn’t even flinch. He reached up, casually adjusting his tie, his expression the picture of bored indifference. “Oh, those? Just a mosquito. A very aggressive one. I think it got into my apartment last night and wouldn’t let me sleep.”
“A mosquito?” Chanyeol asked, skeptical. “That looks more like—”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon interrupted, his voice flat and professional, though you caught the way his eyes darted toward you for a fraction of a second. “Anyway, about those quarterly projections…”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek. The mental image of Junmyeon growling into your ear while you sank your teeth into his neck was a vivid memory from last night. You kept your back to them, staring intently at the printer tray, trying to erase it from your mind.
Later that day, the only thing more hollow than your stomach was your patience. You marched into the break room, desperate for a caffeine fix to dampen the hunger pangs, only to find the source of your misery already there.
Junmyeon was standing by the counter, leaning over his mug with an air of smug tranquility. Just as he reached out to lift the steaming cup to his lips, you swiped it from under his hand with a fluid, practiced motion.
“Hey!” he protested, his hand clutching at empty air as he turned a sharp glare toward you. “That’s mine. Get your own.”
“Consider it a tax,” you snapped, taking a long, defiant sip while looking him dead in the eye. “It’s entirely your fault I haven’t eaten a single thing today.”
Junmyeon let out a low, raspy chuckle, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. The movement made the charcoal fabric of his suit jacket pull tight across his chest. “Are you really this worked up over a yogurt? It was a strawberry. You don’t even like strawberries that much.”
“It was my strawberry yogurt, you thief,” you hissed. “And you knew exactly what you were doing when you cleared it out of my fridge.”
“I was hungry,” he said simply, a playful glint in his eyes that made you want to kick him. “Besides, you’re much more interesting when you’re hangry.”
You reached past him, your hand diving into his open lunch bag on the counter. Before he could react, you snatched the last thick slice of crusty bread he’d tucked away. “Then I’m taking this.”
“Hey! That’s mine!”
You stood your ground, the stolen bread in one hand and his coffee in the other, feeling the familiar adrenaline that only he could provoke.
“That’s mine now,” you muttered, already backing toward the door.
“C’mere!” he retorted, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register. “I don’t wanna repeat it again.”
You stopped at the threshold, a slow, predatory smile spreading across your face. You let your gaze drift pointedly to his neck, where the collar of his expensive shirt was still struggling to do its job.
“Junmyeon,” your voice dripping with sweet, faux-concern. “Maybe you should spend your lunch break hiding those ‘mosquito bites’. That’s a lack of professionalism, y’know?”
His smug expression didn’t just fade—it fractured to the point you thought his glasses had broken. For a split second, the composed version of him vanished.
Junmyeon opened his mouth to fire back—likely to remind you exactly who had left those marks—but the words died in his throat. He watched you stand there, defiantly chewing on his sourdough and holding his coffee like a trophy, and for once, he had no arguments.
You saw his jaw work, his eyes dark with a mixture of sheer annoyance and a kind of heat. Junmyeon looked genuinely surprised that you’d had the nerve to weaponize his own lie against him.
“Just… get out,” he finally muttered. He only had the heavy, frustrated weight of a man who knew he’d just been played at his own game.
“My pleasure,” you hummed, a purr of pure satisfaction.
You sauntered out of the break room without looking back, but you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into the back of your neck. He wouldn’t follow you, and he certainly wouldn’t admit to anyone that you were the reason for his sudden silence. Junmyeon was too proud to let the office know that his rival had just walked off with his breakfast, his caffeine, and his dignity all in one go.
As you rounded the corner back to your desk, the coffee tasted better than anything you’d ever bought yourself. You knew this victory was temporary—he’d likely spend the rest of the afternoon plotting a way to make you pay for the sourdough—but for now, the silence coming from the break room was the sweetest sound in the building.
“It was a record-breaking month,” the manager’s voice boomed in the sudden silence. “But as always, one person pushed just a little bit harder.”
Friday afternoon arrived. The stress was a living thing, fueled by the fact that the “Seller of the Month” announcement was a minute aside. Neither of you mentioned what happened again, but the way he watched you from across the meeting room told you he hadn’t forgotten the humiliation in the break room.
At the center of the room, your manager held the cream-colored envelope—the voucher for the weekend getaway.
You stood on the left, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your expression a mask of cold, professional indifference. Across the carpet, Junmyeon stood like a statue. He looked impeccable in a navy suit, his glasses catching the overhead light, but you noticed the way his fingers twitched against his thigh.
You felt Junmyeon’s gaze cut toward you. It was a silent prepare to lose. You tilted your chin up, your eyes promising him a slow, public demise.
“By a margin of only two sales.” The silence was deafening. “Kim Junmyeon is the new winner."
The room erupted into applause. Junmyeon didn’t jump for joy; he smiled with confidence, stepping forward, and took the envelope. He shook the manager’s hand, thanked the team, and then turned his head just enough to catch your eye.
The look he gave you was the look of a man who had not only won the war but was now deciding exactly how to punish his prisoner.
“Congratulations, Junmyeon,” you said, your voice dripping with a fake, honeyed warmth that you knew he absolutely loathed. You stepped forward, extending a hand. “Nobody deserves a break from all that strenuous effort quite like you do.”
Junmyeon took your hand, squeezing. He leaned in as if to give you a professional, friendly pat on the shoulder, but his hand landed on the back of your neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“Better luck next time, sweetheart,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to hear. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to actually hit your targets for once.”
“Aw, so arrogant.” Your smile never wavered as you leaned into his space, your lips almost brushing his cheek in what looked like a congratulatory gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll be too busy taking over the accounts you’re neglecting.”
You moved first. Your coworkers swarmed in, effectively diffusing the lethal air between you and Junmyeon with their oblivious enthusiasm.
“Nice work, Junmyeon! That coast trip is gonna be worth it!” Chanyeol shouted, slapping him on the back with enough force to make him stumble a half-step forward.
Junmyeon’s hand dropped from the back of your neck instantly. “Thanks, man. It was a tight race,” he said, his voice smoothing out into that polished, professional baritone that always made you want to roll your eyes.
“And hey,” Minho said, turning to you with a sympathetic wince. “You’ll get him next month. You were so close. Seriously, just one more lead and he’d be the one sitting here looking miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” you lied, forcing a sharp, practiced smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m just already planning his downfall. Someone has to keep his ego from floating away.”
“Well said!” Hana got close to you, holding your arm with a cheerful vibe. “Crash him!”
“Yup, you will need luck for next month, Kim.” Minji appeared with Sora, who was laughing.
Junmyeon let out a short, dry chuckle, tucking the voucher into his breast pocket with a flourish that was meant only for you. “Careful. Overconfidence is usually what leads to second place. But I appreciate the congratulations, guys.”
The group laughed, the tension you had been building in the dark corners of the conversation dissipating into mundane office chatter. Slowly, the crowd began to thin, people drifting back to their cubicles to finish their final Friday tasks.
Junmyeon didn’t give you a second glance. He simply turned his back on you, curving his lips in a smug smile, leaning over his desk to check an email. He knew he had pissed you off successfully.
You sat back down at your desk, not just feeling defeated, but with the urge to kill him slowly. You could see the back of his head, the way his dark hair was perfectly styled, and the way his shoulders looked broad and immovable in that suit, acting as if the win was purely professional. You hated that.
You spent the next hour typing with a ferocity that threatened your keyboard, your jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every time you heard the crinkle of the envelope from his side of the desk, your blood spiked.
By 5:00 PM, the office was a ghost town. You were still there, staring at a spreadsheet you had already finished, waiting for something. You heard the rustle of fabric, the click of a briefcase, and then his footsteps.
Junmyeon walked past your desk without stopping.
“Bye, runner-up,” he said, his voice cool and detached as he headed for the elevators.
The anger was a hot, jagged stone in your chest as you watched the elevator numbers count down. You knew how he worked; Junmyeon didn’t just play the game, he manipulated the board. He hadn’t won because he was better; he’d won because he was devious.
You waited exactly five minutes—long enough to look like you were heading home, but short enough to catch him.
The basement parking lot was a concrete tomb, smelling of damp air. You spotted his car immediately. As you approached, the driver’s side window slid down.
“Coming?” His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that skipped down your spine. He looked infuriatingly smug behind the wheel.
Your purse hung lazily off your shoulder as you walked toward the passenger door. You didn’t smile. You gave him the look he knew best—the one that promised you weren’t there to congratulate him, but to ruin his victory. You yanked the door open and dropped into the leather seat, the scent of his cologne immediately filling your lungs.
“You’re late.” His voice dropped into that dark, flirtatious register that only came out when the office cameras were off.
“Shut up,” you snapped. You reached across the center console, your fingers hooking into the silk of his tie and yanking him toward you with enough force to make his neck snap forward.
You brought your face inches from his, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “You cheated. We both know it.”
Junmyeon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his hands flying to your waist to haul you closer. A slow, dark smirk spread across his face as he looked at your mouth. “Prove it,” he challenged, his eyes flashing with that familiar, unhinged hunger. “Planning on punishing me for it?”
Junmyeon was enjoying it—the aggression, the way you treated him like a criminal. You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the muscle jump and tighten beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. His breath hitched, turning rough and shallow as he leaned into your touch, his own hands traveling up your back to pull you flush against him.
When your lips finally crashed into his, it was a collision of teeth and tongue, fueled by the bitter adrenaline of the afternoon. It was angry and desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening as he prepared to take exactly what he wanted.
But the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, to claim the satisfaction of a second win for the day, you pulled back.
You broke the contact abruptly, leaving him breathless and leaning into empty air. You smoothed your hair back with a clinical, cold precision and leaned back into your seat, a sharp, triumphant glint in your eyes.
“Not tonight,” you whispered, your voice a lethal purr as you reached for the door handle.
Junmyeon was speechless, leaning toward you, his pupils blown wide, his hands still hovering near your waist as if he could physically pull the “yes” out of you. “What—where you going?” His fingers were grazing the fabric of your skirt.
You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, faux-sympathetic pout pull at your lips. You reached out, patting his cheek with a condescending softness that felt like a slap.
“Oh, Junmyeon,” you sighed, your voice dripping with mock pity as you watched the frustration boil behind his eyes. “You look so... desperate. It’s almost sad. But I’m afraid I’m not on the menu tonight.”
“What do you mean?” he hissed, his jaw tightening so hard you could hear the bone click.
“It means I have much better plans,” you said, checking your reflection in the front mirror, fixing your lipstick and hair. “The girls and I are heading out. Drinks, dancing, and absolutely zero mention of you.”
The mention of your friends—the same ones who had just been strengthening your resolve to kick his ass—made his expression shift from heat to pure, unadulterated annoyance.
“You’re really going to choose a night of cheap cocktails over me?” he challenged, his voice straining, trying to sound indifferent.
“In a heartbeat,” you whispered, leaning in one last time just to leave a kiss on his jaw, leaving a perfect red mark of lipstick there before yanking the door handle. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”
You stepped out, the sound of your heels clicking sharply against the concrete like a victory march. As you shut the door, you looked back through the window one last time. He was sitting there, eyes closed, his tie crooked, his pulse visible in his neck, gripping the wheel harder enough to notice his frustration bubbling up.
You just kept walking, laughing all the way to the elevator, leaving him exactly where you wanted him: wanting more and having nothing.
Three rounds in, the alcohol had softened the sharp edges of the week, and you, Sora, Minji, and Hana were hunched over a sticky table, howling with laughter and absurdity.
“You know,” Minji said, her eyes twinkling with that specific brand of drunken mischief, “I was looking at the two of you during the announcement today. Despite all the ‘I hope you trip into a volcano’ glares... you and Junmyeon would actually make a terrifyingly hot couple.”
You nearly choked on your drink, a spray of gin and tonic barely missing the table. “Minji, please. I’d rather date a cactus!”
“I don’t know…” Sora chimed in, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking at him. It’s not just rivalry. It’s like he wants to... eat you. Or ruin you. Or both.”
“Yeah, my career,” you corrected, though your heart did a traitorous little flip.
Hana, never one to let a fire die out, poured more gasoline. “Oh, he’s definitely got that energy. Y’know, the one who looks like a perfect gentleman in that suit but probably has a whole different personality in bed.”
“Stop! This is ridiculous!” you laughed, trying to wave them off, but your face felt suspiciously warm. “He’s a robot.”
“A very attractive robot,” Minji countered, wagging her eyebrows. “C’mon. You’ve been in close quarters with him for months. Can’t you tell me you haven’t noticed the aura? He’s got that ‘good in bed’ energy. Like, really good.”
You had to bite your tongue so hard it actually hurt.
“I wouldn’t know,” you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the internal chaos. “I’m too busy trying not to get a headache from his cologne.”
“Bet he’s a biter,” Sora added thoughtfully, tapping her chin.
“Nah, he likes being bitten,” Hana corrected. “You haven’t seen his neck?”
“I saw it too!” Minji laughed. “It’s always the ones who look the most composed who are the most unhinged behind closed doors, huh?” She patted your arms, noticing you were deadly silent, swallowing your words.
The irony was so thick you could taste it. You were sitting there, while your friends spent twenty minutes dissecting the exact sexual prowess of the man who had been hooking up with you for months.
“You guys are obsessed,” you said, letting out a genuine, breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t wanna talk about my nemesis here! C’mon, it’s girl night!”
“Fine, fine.” Hana laughed, raising her glass. “But mark my words. One of these days, that tension is going to snap, and I’ll be nearby when it happens.”
It already snapped, Hana, you thought, taking a long, triumphant sip of your drink.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Minji said, her eyes widening as she slammed her glass onto the table. “I just remembered. You two live in the same building!”
The table went silent for a heartbeat before erupting.
“Oh, you’ve been holding out on us!” Sora squealed, leaning so far across the table she was practically in your lap. “That means you see him in the wild. Does he wear those suits to get the mail?”
“It’s just a building!” You tried desperately to keep your voice from trembling. “I barely see him.”
“Liar!” Hana pointed a finger at you, her face flushed with gin-induced excitement. “Look at her—she’s got that look. You’ve seen something, haven’t you? What is it? His gym routine? He looks good in gray sweatpants and sweaty?”
“Hana, stop,” you laughed, though the mental image of Junmyeon in anything casual—or nothing at all—was currently playing on a loop in your brain.
“Bet his apartment is just as cold and clinical as his office,” Minji mused, her mind clearly heading into dirtier territory. “All glass and chrome. Very American Psycho. I bet he’s the type who watches himself in the mirror while he—”
“Minji!” you gasped, actually laughing. “You’re officially banned from talking for the rest of the night.”
“No, tell us!” Sora insisted, grabbing your arm. “Have you ever been in his place? Or has he been in yours? Oh my god… imagine the tension in that elevator. Just the two of you, floor after floor, staring at the numbers, knowing you hate each other but also knowing he’s... well, he’s him."
You thought about that very elevator—the way the doors had hissed shut, the way he’d slammed his hands against the wall, the way you’d yanked his tie until he stumbled.
Shit.
“No… definitely not,” you managed to say, your face burning.
“She’s blushing!” Hana screamed, attracting looks from the neighboring tables. “She’s totally thinking about him! C’mon! If you don’t tell us right now, I’m gonna call him myself and ask.”
“You wouldn’t dare…” Though a part of you knew Hana was drunk enough to try.
“Then give us something!” Sora pleaded. “Just one detail.”
You took a long, slow sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to soothe the heat in your cheeks. You thought about the bite mark on his neck, the way he’d growled your name into the mattress, and the look of pure, unhinged frustration on his face when he cu—
You shook your head, forcing a look of mild boredom. “I saw him running once.” You offered a small, shrug-like gesture as if the memory was barely worth the effort to recall. “Late at night. He had headphones on and looked just as miserable as he does when I’m beating his sales numbers. We didn’t even speak. That’s the extent of our ‘neighborly’ relationship.”
“Just once?” Sora asked, her voice dripping with disappointment. “No late-night elevator runs for snacks? No bumping into him while you’re both taking out the trash in your pajamas?”
“I’m pretty sure he purposely takes the service stairs just to avoid the risk of seeing my face and ruining his night,” you lied, the words tasting like gin.
“That sounds like him,” Hana muttered, swirling the ice in her glass. “The man is so dedicated to being your enemy that he’d probably move out if he thought you were getting too comfortable.”
“Exactly!” you said, taking a long, casual sip of your drink. “He’s just a guy who lives in the same building and makes my life a living hell from nine to five.”
You leaned back, letting their chatter wash over you as they finally shifted the topic to Minji’s dating app disasters. Inside, your heart was still thudding a mile a minute.
Admitting the truth—that you knew exactly what he looked like when he was out of breath, or that he’d been in your bed at 3:00 AM more times than you could count—would change everything. You weren’t ready to share the satisfaction of having Junmyeon exactly where you wanted him.
But as you laughed at Minji’s stories, your hand ghosted over your phone in your purse. You wondered if he was still sitting in that car, fuming, or if he was already back at the building, waiting for the sound of your heels in the hallway.
The walk from the taxi to the elevator ride felt lonely, boring with the lack of his presence. When the doors hissed open on your floor, instead of turning left toward your own door, you found yourself standing in front of his.
You were so close to knocking, close enough to imagine him on the other side—maybe sitting on that leather sofa with a glass of bourbon, still wearing that navy suit, and fuck.
With a sharp, internal snap, you pulled your hand back. Not tonight.
You turned on your heel and marched the few steps to your own door. When you tried to shove the key into the lock, your coordination betrayed you; the metal slipped, clattering clumsily to the floor.
“Shit.”
As you reached down to retrieve it, the floor seemed to tilt. You caught yourself against the wall, fingers splayed against the cold surface as the evening’s drinks finally caught up with you.
The elevator doors opened again. Junmyeon stepped out, winded from his run and radiating a heat that seemed to close the distance between you instantly. He was dressed in a black shirt and shorts, a light running jacket clinging to his frame in all the right places. His hair was damp, his chest heaved with every labored breath, and a single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple before disappearing into his collar. He didn’t even look up at you first; he was adjusting his glasses.
“Enjoying the view?”
His voice sent a treacherous shiver down your spine, snapping you out of a trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into. Junmyeon moved with an effortless grace that your own buzzed senses couldn’t match, unlocking his door in one fluid motion and leaving it ajar—a silent invitation.
The alcohol in your system felt like it had suddenly evaporated. You tightened your grip on your keys, the metal biting into your palm, before you crossed the threshold and shut the door behind you.
“I wasn’t looking at you.” But your eyes were fixed on the way his clothes matched his body proportions perfectly.
Junmyeon chuckled, tossing his watch and keys onto the table. He turned back to face you. “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, a dark, triumphant smirk finally spreading across his face. “Then why are you here?”
“I—just to clarify that. Yeah,” you stammered, the excuse sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “I should go.”
“Sure.” Junmyeon’s voice dropped to a low register. He didn’t move an inch back, but his scent was clouding your senses. “The door is right behind you.”
Your feet were stuck, and your gaze was locked on his lips, taking a step closer.
“That’s what I thought.”
As Junmyeon closed the final inch, your defenses evaporated. Your purse slid forgotten from your shoulder, and the keys you had been gripping so tightly clattered to the floor. You didn’t care. You reached for him, your composure snapping as you crashed your lips against his.
Junmyeon reacted instantly. He trapped you against the door, sliding down one of his hands, searingly hot, to find the hem of your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thigh with a proprietary force that made your knees buckle.
“Fuck—I hate you,” you gasped against his mouth.
“Not as much as I do,” Junmyeon murmured, tearing his mouth from yours to trail a path of heat down your jaw. His lips found the frantic pulse in your neck, devouring your skin, leaving hot marks. Your fingers tangled desperately into his hair, pulling him closer.
You shrugged out of your blazer, the fabric hitting the floor to join your keys and purse. Junmyeon slid his hand further up your skirt, then rubbed his fingers against your panties. The sudden, hot realization of your own wetness made every sensation feel amplified, a deep ache settling in your cunt that only he could soothe.
Junmyeon’s mouth remained anchored to your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while his free hand began to work the buttons of your blouse with a practiced, agonizing slowness. He exposed more skin, centimeter by centimeter, following the trail of the fabric with hungry, wet, searing kisses.
Your hips began to buck instinctively against his hand, a silent, desperate plea for him to touch you properly, to rub harder against your folds. You were losing the battle, your breath hitching in broken gasps. You could feel the wetness of his tongue against your bra, his hot breath cooling against the fabric, claiming you.
Junmyeon pulled away barely an inch, looking at you with hungry eyes, his hot fingers leaving you shivering and bereft. You watched, breathless and whimpering against the door, as he brought his hand up between your faces. His two fingers were slick. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his fingers into his mouth, watching you gasp again.
Junmyeon licked them clean with his tongue, swallowing as he tasted you. The sight of his lips wrapped around his own fingers while he stared you down felt like it was certainly an erotic vow.
“Fucking delicious.”
His voice sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. You couldn’t even find a retort. All you could do was stare at his mouth, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, waiting for him to finish what he’d started.
“Jun—”
The friction of the lace was gone, replaced by the searing heat of his bare skin against yours. Junmyeon slid two fingers downward, finding your aching folds and directly rubbing them again with a heavy, rhythmic pressure that made your breath catch in a sharp, broken gasp.
“What is it?” His voice was thick with a dark sort of pride, ghosting your lips. “So desperate, doll.”
Before you could snap back, he collided his lips against your mouth and drove his fingers inside your cunt. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your teeth sinking into his lower lip in a sharp, instinctive bite. Junmyeon’s mouth curved into a smirk against yours, savoring the sting, groaning. He knew he had you.
His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you with a ruthless precision that forced you to cling to his shoulders. You arched your back, your spine hitting the door as you bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the friction. He hummed in approval, a low vibration you felt deep in your chest, before his lips began a slow, torturous descent.
“Fuck! Don’t stop—ah.”
Junmyeon trailed wet, lingering kisses down your throat and over the swell of your chest, his breath hot through the thin fabric of your bra. When he finally caught your nipple between his teeth, biting down through the lace, the double hit of pleasure made your head toss back.
The wet, rhythmic sound of his fingers with vengeance, the friction even more intense. Junmyeon began scissoring his fingers deep inside you, catching your rhythm and then shattering it by going faster, harder, until your senses were completely blinded. You were a live wire in his hands, your gasps turning into frantic, wordless pleas as the coiling heat tightened once again, turning into a searing, unbearable pressure.
“Shit—yes.”
You were right there, your body trembling, your vision blurring as you prepared to shatter. And then, with the surgical precision of a man who knew exactly how to break you, Junmyeon stopped.
“Son of a bitch!” You let out a desperate, strangled sound—a mix of a sob and a moan—as your orgasm retreated just as it reached its peak.
Your legs were shaking so violently you had to lean your entire weight against the door just to stay upright, your inner muscles twitching and aching for more. You looked at him through a haze of frustration, your eyes stinging with the sheer need of it.
Junmyeon was looking at you, his chest rising and falling in a steady, maddeningly calm rhythm, lips curved, and that triumphant chuckle.
“C’mon, honey. You can resist a little tease.” His voice was smooth and terrifyingly steady. He was so close to your face, you could feel his warm breath. “Right?”
“You... bastard!” you managed to choke out, your voice a fractured wreck of its former self. You tried to reach for him, but your coordination was gone, your body heavy and oversensitive. “Just—finish it.”
“But that won’t be fun,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth.
Junmyeon just watched you—watched the way your breath hitched and the way your hands clawed at his shoulders—completely unfazed by the storm he had unleashed inside you. He was the one in total control, and he was savoring every second of your undoing.
“Please—Junmyeon, please.”
“Can make an exception.”
The agonizingly slow drag of his fingers returned, a deliberate, torturous rhythm that felt like he was mocking your desperation. Junmyeon was playing with you, teasing your sensitized flesh with a casual cruelty that left you utterly powerless. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought; your world had shrunk to the point where his hand met your body. You bucked your hips instinctively, trying to force a faster pace, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his forearm in a silent, white-knuckled plea for him to just keep going.
“So impatient,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against your jaw. He trailed his tongue along the sensitive line of your neck, his breath hitching.
Just as the frustration peaked, his fingers snapped back into a blurring, ruthless speed, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight up your spine, your head snapping back against the door. You whimpered, the sound broken and raw, but the fear of him stopping again was more intense than the pleasure itself.
“P-please,” you finally gasped out, the word shattering the last of your pride. Your eyes were shut tight, your body arching into his as the coiling tension in your core became an unbearable, white-hot knot. “Junmyeon, please... don’t stop. Not again. I can’t—I’ll do whatever you want, just—shit. Don’t stop.”
Junmyeon let out a low, triumphant growl, his teeth grazing your earlobe as his pace turned even more punishing. “Oh?”
He pushed you past the breaking point, his fingers relentless and cruel as he kept you balanced on that jagged, unbearable edge. He adjusted his rhythm just enough to keep the tension coiling tighter, turning the pleasure into a beautiful, agonizing form of torture.
“What is it?” His voice dropped. He stopped his fingers for a heartbeat, hovering just at the entrance of your cunt. “Wanna cum?”
The frustration finally broke you. Tears of pure, overstimulated desperation welled in your eyes, blurring the sight of his smug, hot face. You nodded frantically, your pride evaporated.
“Yes,” you choked out. “Yes, damn it. Yes!”
“Good girl.”
Junmyeon drove his fingers back inside with a brutal, blurring speed, his thumb finding that aching spot with a proprietary force. You whimpered into his shoulder as your orgasm finally crashed over you, a violent, bone-deep release that felt like an explosion.
Your inner walls clenched around his fingers in frantic, rhythmic waves, milking the friction as you bucked helplessly against him. Your legs gave out completely, leaving you hanging on his frame as your body was racked by tremor after tremor.
Junmyeon watched you with a look of dark, satisfied possession, savoring the way you were reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess in his arms.
Junmyeon carried you effortlessly, your arms locked around his neck, before he dropped you onto the middle of his bed. The moment your back hit the mattress, you reached for him, pulling him down into a raw kiss. Your hands roamed over him, desperate to find skin, and the friction was so intense he finally bucked under your touch.
He couldn’t resist you any longer as you finished the job with your blouse, tossing it aside. Junmyeon surged forward, his mouth hungry and desperate as he attacked your neck, his breath coming in jagged lunges. He made quick work of your bra, and when your skin was finally exposed to the cool air, he didn’t give you a second to breathe. He buried his face against your tits, his kisses desperate and wide-mouthed as he devoured you.
“Junmyeon... please,” you moaned, your voice a fractured wreck as you arched your body off the sheets. Your hips were already moving in a frantic, instinctive search for pressure. “I need you.”
Junmyeon pulled back for a single heartbeat, looking down at you, swollen lips and his eyes dark, hungry, letting you take his glasses off. Without a word, he yanked his shirt over his head, muscles tensing under the dim light, before he dropped between your legs.
“Yes—”
He stripped your panties and your skirt away with a ruthless efficiency, his mouth immediately finding the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Junmyeon trailed wet, searing kisses upward, marking every inch of you, his hands gripping your knees to keep you open for him.
“I know you need me, doll,” he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin. “C’mere.”
Junmyeon adjusted his position until he could settle himself firmly beneath you. He made you sit right on his face, the heat of his skin meeting the slick, aching center of your pussy. Your legs were already trembling violently, your senses so overstimulated that the mere proximity of him made your head spin.
You felt his hands slide up to your waist, anchoring you in place, before he delivered a giant, wet lick that traced you from bottom to top. The raw sensation of his tongue against your slit made you gasp into the empty room, your fingers dropping his glasses aside, clawing at the sheets as you buckled over him, completely at the mercy of his mouth.
You lost it immediately, your body jerking on top of him as your damp, swollen folds met the relentless heat of his mouth. He wasn’t being polite; he was loud and messy, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you and his moans filling the quiet of the bedroom and making your skin flush a deep, frantic red.
Junmyeon was devouring you with a desperation that told you he’d been starving as much as you did. Every slow, heavy stroke of his tongue against your slit sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to your brain. You were squirming, rocking your hips as you tried to find a rhythm, but he was too fast, too thorough.
“Ah—Junmyeon, fuck!” you choked out, your fingers finding his hair, practically pulling at the roots.
In a fit of pure, unadulterated lust, you tried to squeeze your inner thighs against his head, wanting to trap him there, to force him even deeper into your mess. Junmyeon let out a muffled, dark growl against your skin, his hands sliding up to your ass to grip you with a bruising force, holding you steady as he focused entirely on your clit.
Junmyeon began to suck at that tiny, overstimulated point of nerves, his tongue swirling around it with a rhythmic, drowning pressure. You were a complete wreck, your voice high and jagged as you cried out, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his mouth. He was making a total mess of you, the slick evidence of your desire coating his lips and chin, but he didn’t care. He just drank you in, his breathing ragged and loud between every hungry lap.
“Shit, shit, shit. Yes!”
You were completely undone, the friction of his tongue driving you into a fever state where the only thing that existed was the wet, rhythmic sound of him eating you out. You turned your head a second, your vision swimming, and saw that he had kicked his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself.
His hand was clamped around his cock, his fist moving in a fast, punishing blur as he jerked himself off. You could see the veins standing out on his forearm, the sheer force of his grip as he squeezed himself hard, his knuckles white.
“Fucking hell—you’re so addictive,” he groaned, making your core throb with a renewed, agonizing intensity.
You couldn’t help yourself, your voice a broken, breathless wreck as his mouth continued to claim you.
“Don’t... don’t you dare stop,” you hissed, your hands grabbing the headboard as you bucked your hips against his face. “Fucking eat me. Ah—just like that.”
You turned your head again. The sight of him working himself to the rhythm of his own tongue lapping at your slit was too much. You tried to squeeze your thighs against his face again, wanting to feel the vibration of his growls deep in your bones.
Junmyeon let out a jagged, guttural sound, his fist moving even faster as he buried his face deeper into your pussy—his tongue swirling around your clit with ruthless pressure.
“Fuck!”
The second climax hit you far more violently than before. Your swollen folds were almost too sensitive to bear, but the relentless pressure of his mouth wouldn’t let you escape. You felt your inner walls contract in frantic, agonizing spasms, the orgasm finally snapping through you. A raw, jagged cry teared from your throat as you shattered completely, your entire body vibrating against him, digging your nails into the headboard.
At that exact same moment, Junmyeon’s own control finally disintegrated. His fist worked in one last, punishing blur against his cock, and he let out a loud, choked-off shout—a sound of pure, unbridled release.
His body jolted violently against your thighs, his muscles locking tight. The sheer force of the climax left him physically drained, his grip on your waist finally loosening as he slumped forward.
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale against your skin, holding you as the aftershocks continued to roll through you. He lingered, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes to clean you. The sensation was almost too much for your overstimulated nerves.
“Fuck,” you gasped, though your hands were still buried in his hair, pulling him closer.
When Junmyeon finally shifted, he pulled you up, his muscles slick and straining as he guided you to sit firmly on his lap. You were face-to-face now, your skin flushed and damp, meeting the beautiful, honest mess that was left of his control. He leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving in heavy, jagged lunges. The tension that usually tightened his shoulders was gone, replaced by a raw, satisfied relief.
“You look far too proud of yourself,” you whispered, your voice a breathless wreck as you pushed a stray, damp lock of hair from his forehead.
“I think I’ve earned it,” he rasped, his eyes hooded and dark with a proprietary heat, smirking. “I didn’t know my name could sound that filthy in your mouth.”
“You arrogant bastard,” you breathed, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips.
“And yet, here you are,” he countered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin.
“Just because your tongue does better things than fight me back.” Testing the waters, you reached down, your finger tracing the hypersensitive tip of his length.
The contact made him hiss a jagged curse, his entire body jerking involuntarily. “Fuck—you vixen!” He winced, the pleasure-pain of the post-orgasm sensitivity hitting him hard, but he did tilt his hips into your touch.
“What? I’m just admiring the mess you made,” you teased, your finger circling his tip again, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the sheets. “You were louder tonight, Junmyeon. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Don’t start,” he warned, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I wasn’t the one begging tonight.”
“You’re the one who pushed me there,” you countered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear. “You wanted me desperate. Needy.”
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale, his head falling back against the wood. “Y-yeah. I wanted to ruin you.” He looked at your hand again, watching with a dark, mesmerized intensity as you continued to stroke him. Even though he was spent, even though he was raw, he let you touch, his breath hitching every time your skin grazed his.
“You’re addicted to this,” you whispered, looking up at him, curving your lips. “To me.”
“Completely,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a vulnerable, honest low.
You shifted your weight and wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his length. Junmyeon let out a sharp, fractured breath that sounded almost like a sob.
“Oh, Kim,” you whispered, leaning in until your lips grazed his ear, curving your lips. “Reduced to a shaking mess because I’m barely touching you?”
You started to jerk him off, your rhythm slow, designed to draw out every ounce of his sensitivity. Junmyeon hissed a string of jagged curses, his head snapping back against the headboard, his eyes squeezed shut as his body jolted.
“You like this, don’t you?” you purred. You leaned forward and sank your teeth into his lower lip, biting just hard enough to make him groan.
“Fuck…” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip your waist with a white-knuckled intensity. He tried to pull you closer, his hips bucking upward in a desperate search for more, but you held him back, keeping the pace agonizingly steady.
“Uh-uh.” Your hand tightened slightly as you moved up to his tip, watching his throat move as he swallowed hard. “You enjoyed watching me struggle, hmm? You liked making me wait and beg.”
You leaned back just enough to look at him—his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes desperate. Junmyeon looked completely undone.
“Now it’s your turn,” you purred, your thumb circling the sensitive tip of him until his breath hitched and stayed there. “I think I’m going to keep you right here for a while. I want to hear you beg.”
“You—you cruel woman,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering open, dark and hazed with a mix of pain and pure, unadulterated lust.
“Uh-uh. I’m just playing your game,” you countered. “Don’t complain when I use it all on you.”
You pulled your hand away with a sharp, clinical suddenness, mirroring the exact cruelty he’d shown you. Junmyeon’s hips bucked reflexively, chasing the heat that had just vanished, and he let out a strangled, desperate sound that was half-growl, half-sob.
“Don’t—” he rasped, his eyes snapping open, wide and hazed with a frantic kind of need. He reached for you, his fingers brushing your waist, but you pulled just out of reach, moving back on the bed.
“What?” Your voice was airy and teasing as you watched him tremble. “I thought maybe you liked the wait.”
“Shit—please,” he groaned, looking utterly wrecked, his chest heaving, his pride lying in tatters on the floor. “Don’t do this. Please… fuck, I’m begging you.”
“Are you?” You knelt between his legs, your shadow falling over his flushed skin. You reached out, your finger grazing the slick, pearly cum at his tip, and then you brought them to your lips, tasting him right in front of his eyes.
Junmyeon let out a hissed, jagged breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets.
“Who’s in charge, Junmyeon?” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.
“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Y-you are. Just... please, do it.”
Satisfied with the brokenness in his tone, you leaned down. You started by swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, catching every drop of his sensitivity. Junmyeon groaned, his hands flying to your hair, guiding you, his fingers trembling against your scalp.
Then, you took him into your mouth, swallowing him whole.
The low, guttural sound he made was pure animal instinct. His hips began to move lazily, a rhythmic, desperate thrust against your mouth as he fought to stay conscious. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat sent a violent jolt of heat straight to your own cunt; you were so wet you could feel your inner walls clenching around nothing, aching for a fullness that only he could provide.
“Fuck... yes! Right there.” His voice was a fractured wreck as his grip on your hair tightened, anchoring you to him. “Don’t… don’t you fucking stop. I’m gonna—shit.”
Junmyeon was completely at your mercy, his breathing turning into sharp, frantic hitches as your tongue worked over him, driving him toward a peak that he couldn’t escape. He was loud, messy, and entirely yours, his swearing turning into wordless pleas as he teetered on the very edge of his sanity, his chest heaving, his hip colliding uncoordinated with your face.
You reached down with your free hand, your fingers curling around him to squeeze his balls with a firm, proprietary grip, while your other hand jerked him with a fast, ruthless rhythm.
“Ah—yes, baby,” he choked out, his hands tangling desperately in your hair. “You’re fucking killing me. Shit—”
“Shh,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to give him a messy kiss. “You’re doing so good for me, Junmyeon. Such a good, obedient boy.”
“Don’t—” he groaned, a jagged, broken sound. “Please.” He shut his eyes, his hands trembling.
“What?” You smirked, grazing your lips on his, jerking him off. “You like it when I call you good boy?”
He barely nodded, probably ashamed that the lust was deeper. “Fuck, please... just finish me. Please?”
“I didn’t hear you.” Your fist squeezed harder. “You like it?”
“Yes! Fuck—I do!”
Satisfied, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him deep, swallowing his whole cock. Junmyeon groaned so loud that it made your own core pulse with a frantic, wet ache. You were a winner, and you both knew it—you could feel it in the way his muscles were locked tight, the way his swearing turned into a high, frantic whine.
“Yes, ah—yes!”
Junmyeon finally broke. With a loud, guttural groan, his body jolted violently. He came with a force that was staggering, hot sperm hitting the back of your throat as he pumped into your mouth. You coughed, trying to take every bit of him, even as it became too much to swallow, the excess dripping down your chin and onto your chest.
Junmyeon was completely overwhelmed, his body racking with aftershocks so intense his legs were still twitching against the sheets. He slumped back, his hands finally falling limp from your hair, his breathing coming in shallow, sobbing gasps.
You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a triumphant, predatory smile on your face. You were covered in him—your lips, your chin, your skin—and the sight of him so utterly destroyed and overstimulated made you feel more powerful than any boardroom victory ever could.
You leaned down and mashed your mouth against his, a slow, sloppy kiss that was pure mockery. You deliberately smeared the slick evidence of his orgasm across his lips, tasting yourself and him all at once. Neither of you gave a shit about being clean; you were both too far gone, completely feral and obsessed.
“Tastes good, hmm?” you whispered against his mouth, your lips wet and glistening. “But you look like a fucking mess, Kim.”
Junmyeon let out a dark, ragged chuckle that sounded more like a growl, his eyes snapping open with a dangerous, predatory spark. “You think you fucking broke me? You think you’re in control because you can make me beg?”
Before the words could even fully leave his mouth, he gripped your waist and flipped you onto your back with a sudden, bruising force. The weight of his sticky, warm body pinned you flat against the mattress. You immediately felt the scorching heat of him—thick, heavy, and hard again, pressed right against your slick cunt.
“I’m gonna make you eat every single one of those words,” he rasped, his voice dropping to a filthy, gravelly whisper.
Junmyeon didn’t ease into you. He slammed his hips forward, burying his entire length inside you in one deep, ruthless thrust that bottomed out completely. You let out a sharp, high-pitched whimper, your toes curling as your overstimulated walls, raw from the previous orgasms, clenched around him like a vice. It was so intense that you reacted purely on instinct, arching your spine and biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Fuck—” Junmyeon groaned, tasting the copper on his tongue and immediately driving into you harder, his pace turning fast and punishing. “Fucking bite me again, you little psycho. Shit—you’re so goddamn tight.”
“Shut up and just fuck me, Junmyeon!” Your hands flew to his back, your nails digging into his skin and dragging down until you left long, angry red tracks. “Don’t you dare slow down—I wanna feel every fucking inch of you.”
“You like it rough, huh? You like it when I don’t give you a choice,” he half-growled, half-chuckled, his breathing coming in heavy, jagged lunges as the headboard began to slam violently against the wall.
He reached down, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it high over his shoulder to open you up even more, angling his hips to hit that exact, agonizing spot inside you over and over again. He had you whimpering, incapable of saying a word but raw moans from your lips.
“Yes, doll. Look at how open you are for me. Shit—who owns this pathetic, aching pussy right now.”
With a low growl, Junmyeon slid his hand up from your waist, his palm wrapping around the front of your neck. He pressed down firmly, pinning you to the pillows. The sudden, heavy pressure on your throat sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight to your core. Your internal muscles reacted instantly, contracting violently and clenching around his thick cock.
“Fucking tight,” Junmyeon choked out, his jaw tight as your raw, hyper-sensitive walls squeezed him with an agonizingly perfect grip. “Say it. Who owns you.”
“You—you do,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, tears of pure, unadulterated pleasure blurring your vision as he absolutely devoured you from the inside out. “You do, fuck... Junmyeon—you feel so good. I’m gonna—”
“No, baby. You don’t cum until I tell you to,” Junmyeon swore, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his face flushed and his jaw locked in pure, obsessive lust. He slowed his pace for two agonizing strokes, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, making the friction so thick and wet it was deafening. “Swear to me, love. Swear you’re never gonna let anyone else touch you like this.”
“N-never,” you sobbed out, your hips instinctively bucking up to meet his heavy, brutal thrusts, completely addicted to the pain and the pleasure of him stretching you open. “Fucking ruin me, Junmyeon, please…”
You didn’t push his hand away. Instead, your fingers scrambled up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin—not to pull him off, but to anchor him there, silently demanding that he keep the pressure exactly where it was and push even deeper inside you.
“More,” you gasped out of breath, the word getting caught in your throat as tears of intense, overstimulated pleasure welled in your eyes and spilled down your temples. “I’m yours—I’m fucking yours!”
“That’s it. All mine,” he rasped, his own control disintegrating as his movements turned into a blurring, frantic frenzy of pure friction and sweat.
Neither of you could handle the raw, hyper-sensitive heat for more than a few minutes; it was a race to the absolute edge of your sanity, both of you completely lost in a blind, chaotic rhythm that was burning you both to the ground.
His heavy, sweat-slicked body was betraying him; every time he slammed deep inside you, a violent tremor would wrack his spine, his muscles locking up before he dragged himself back to plunge into you again. His lips were parted, his jaw strained so tight it looked like it would crack, and he was being incredibly loud, letting out deep, animalistic grunts and breathless curses with every heavy, wet thrust that echoed through the room.
“Jun—ah, please,” you choked out breathless, the sound barely escaping your throat as tears streamed down into your hair. Your hips bucked up on instinct, chasing the brutal friction, completely addicted to the agonizingly perfect pressure of his hand and his body. “I’m—I’m close—fuck, I can’t—”
“I know,” he growled, his gaze dark and hazed with an overwhelming, dangerous level of lust as he stared down at your wrecked face. Junmyeon finally freed your leg, but not your neck. He leaned down, his chest crushing your breasts, his mouth finding your ear as his hips accelerated into a blinding, frantic frenzy. “Just one… one more second. Shit—together. I wanna feel you crushing me.”
You nodded weakly. The raw sensation between your slick, swollen folds was deafening, a sloppy, desperate mess of skin against skin that threatened to burn you both down. Your fingers were clawing uselessly at his forearms as the pleasure became too intense to bear.
The press of his hand on your neck vanished the exact moment he lost it. A sharp, ragged gasp of air rushed back into your lungs just as your shared climax hit with a devastating, paralyzing force. Junmyeon’s control completely disintegrated; his hands slammed into the mattress on either side of your head, curling into white-knuckled fists as his entire body locked tight.
“Fuck…” he growled breathless.
You scrambled to hold him closer, wrapping your arms and trembling legs around his sweat-slicked frame, desperate to bridge any remaining distance, wanting to feel every single inch of your skin fused together. Inside you, his cock was throbbing violently, filling you up so completely that it felt like an electric current was surging through your veins. Your entire body was trembling, caught in a wave of violent, uncontrollable spasms.
Junmyeon couldn’t help himself—he gave a few final, sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts, rubbing your clit with his own thumbs, sending you entirely over the edge. Overstimulated to the point of delirium, you squirted against him, a high, fractured cry tearing from your throat and burying itself in the crook of his neck. You bit down on his shoulder, your nails anchoring deep into his back, riding the wave until he finally stopped moving altogether.
“Jesus Christ—Junmyeon!”
With a final, low groan, Junmyeon collapsed, his exquisite, heavy weight crushing you into the mattress. Neither of you moved an inch. You just lay there, a tangled tangle of limbs, sweaty, wet, and completely spent. Your internal walls and his muscles were still twitching with aftershocks as you both gasped for air.
Junmyeon let out a tired, breathless chuckle against your collarbone, the tension completely melted from his frame. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice a deep, gravelly ruin as he tightened one heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. “We... we need a shower.”
A breathless, exhausted laugh bubbled up from your chest, your lips brushing against his damp shoulder. “But you’re carrying me.”
“Deal.”
After the warm water of the shower had finally washed away the sticky, frantic evidence of the night, Junmyeon carried you back to the fresh side of the bed. The cool, clean sheets felt like heaven against your scrubbed skin, but you didn’t stay apart for long. Almost immediately, he pulled you against his chest, molding his body to your back and draping a heavy, possessive arm over your waist. He buried his face deep into the damp curve of your neck, his nose hidden in the strands of your hair as his breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic hum.
“Junmyeon?” you murmured. “That was my shampoo?”
He let out a lazy and completely unbothered song, shifting just a fraction, tightening his grip on your waist as if trying to physically anchor you into silence. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
You could hear the sheer exhaustion filling his lungs, his voice gravelly and weighed down by the sleep he was desperately chasing, but your curiosity got the better of you. “Don’t play dumb. You bought it, but you clearly haven’t used it. Why is it in there?”
“I like the smell,” he mumbled defensively into your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone.
A tiny, knowing smile tugged at your lips. Junmyeon had bought your exact shampoo just to have it ready for the moments you stayed over, a quiet gesture that felt incredibly loud.
Intrigued, you carefully rolled over within the tight circle of his arms to face him. The movement made him let out a soft, disgruntled groan, but he didn’t let you go. You blinked through the dark, finding his sleepy face just inches from yours. His eyes were tightly shut, his hair soft over his forehead, and his swollen lower lip was pulled into a faint, exhausted pout.
You reached up as you gently cupped his face. Your thumb brushed just below his eye, tracing the soft, relaxed skin. “Buying my shampoo just so when I’m here. Who knew my biggest rival was actually such a softie?”
Junmyeon let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated right against your fingertips. “I’m not soft,” he mumbled, his voice thick and entirely ruined by sleep. “I’m practical. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“It was also a practical move that you faked ending your run just when I came home?”
His eyes stayed shut, his arm tightening around your waist. “What the hell are you talking about? Please… go to sleep.”
“Liar,” you persisted, a sleepy, goofy smile spreading across your face as you remembered the struggle at your apartment door. "You were running with glasses, Junmyeon. You don’t do that. You just came because you saw me coming, fumbling with my keys, and then, you had the nerve to mock me.
“You were fumbling,” he murmured, a soft, amused laugh escaping his lips as he buried his face further into your hair, incapable of denying your accusation.
“I was perfectly sober,” you corrected, letting out a soft, absurd chuckle. “Those three cocktails didn’t even exist in my body. My system completely neutralized them.”
“Sure, sure.” He curved his lips, his voice thick with sleep. “We’ll see how that ‘neutralized’ system feels when the morning comes, and you’re begging me for aspirin.”
“Ugh, I hate you know me so well. But… you will give it to me just because I’m your favorite rival. Admit it.”
“Not quite sure,” he whispered back, finally wrapping his other arm around you to pull you completely into his space. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Maybe just for tonight.”
“Still wrong,” you mumbled. “I’m your only rival. Everyone else just lets you win. You’d be bored to death without me.”
Junmyeon let out one last, quiet chuckle; the sound felt warm and private. He shifted slightly, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
“Maybe you’re right.” His voice dropped to a low, sleepy confession. Before you could say another word, he guided your head down, nudging you until your face was completely hidden in the warm crook of his neck. “Sleep,” he whispered against your hair, his hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you tucked safely against him. “No more talking for tonight.”
You didn’t protest this time. Letting out a soft sigh, you wrapped one arm securely around his torso, anchoring him close. Your leg slid instinctively between his, lacing your limbs together under the heavy duvet until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.
As the heavy, comfortable silence of the room settled over you both once again, a quiet smile spread across your face, your eyes fluttering shut as you melted into his hold. And, against your hair, completely hidden in the dark (and the soft scent of your shampoo), Junmyeon was smiling too—neither of you truly knowing just how deeply the other was already losing the risky game.
✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼
↳ summary: a favor from your best friend spirals into something completely out of control
↳ wc: 7k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | smut, angst elements, some fluff | 18+ warnings: fingering, eaterrrrrr baek (oral sex - f receiving), hair pulling, raw p in v. some overstim, dirty talk, and implied cum eating but very light
↳ a/n: requested by lovely anon! i struggle so much with angst so i hope it at least partway delivers <3
“He’s such a fucking bum,” Baekhyun sighs. He throws the crumpled piece of paper in the air and it lands on your chest. “Who dumps people with a handwritten note?”
“That was so like him though,” you grumble. “He was so anti-phone. Every time I showed him a reel he would say, you know that stuff is rotting your brain, right?”
Baekhyun turns back from his position on the floor to look at you, scandalized. “You were sending him reels?”
“Yes?” You roll your eyes at his pout. “You know that you don’t like, own Instagram right? I’m allowed to send reels to other people besides you.”
“You’re not allowed to send reels to people that dump you through a handwritten note slid under your door.” He turns back around and leans his head back on the couch, the top of his head nearly touching your thigh. “You’re okay, though? You don’t seem very torn up about it.”
“What if I was?” you hum. “Would that be so terrible?”
“Are you?”
You aren’t. You’d dumped others and been dumped so many times but you’d never actually experienced heartbreak. It never felt real enough to you to feel the hurt. You’d simply nod and move on, blocking their numbers before you were even out the door. Baekhyun called you a sociopath, you called yourself realistic. Besides, who is he to judge anyways? How many nights have you spent rubbing his back because the pretty girl at the bar ghosted him? You think about saying this, but that wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say to your best friend, who was kind enough to open his door to you at midnight with no questions asked.
“He sucked,” you say instead.
“I could have told you that. I don’t think he knew my name. He just called everyone ‘bro.’ Even you.”
“He always made us split the bill when we went out.”
“I’m pretty sure he was trying to flirt with Jongin’s girlfriend last week.”
“He never ate me out.”
Baekhyun chokes, and for a second you think that maybe, for the first time in your fifteen years of friendship, you’ve gone too TMI. He makes that sound again, a strained, choking sound high in the back of his throat.
Then you realize that he’s laughing.
“Fuck off,” you mumble, tossing a throw pillow at his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wheezes. Is he wiping a fucking tear from his eyes right now? “It’s just like – go fucking figure, y’know?”
“What do you mean?”
He turns around to fully face you, still trying to stifle down his giggles. “Like, if there’s a guy who treats his girlfriend like shit there’s like a 90% chance he won’t go down on her either.”
Your eyebrows crease together. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why not?” he asks. “Like if a guy is a piece of shit he wouldn’t want to do something that’s solely for her pleasure. Of course he’d never turn down a blowjob, but the other way? No way.”
“But I don’t think it works the other way, right?” you say. “Like a guy can be a good partner but not do it.”
“I mean everyone has their preferences, I guess but a downright refusal without a good reason is kind of a red flag.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why are you getting defensive about this?”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are.”
“I guess ‘cus like… I’ve had partners that weren’t shitty people.”
Baekhyun falls silent, eyes wide and incredulous. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”
You groan and cover your burning face in your hands. “Can we drop it?”
“No one’s ever gone down on you?” he asks.
“Baek…”
“That’s fucking insane,” he mutters.
“Okay, well, since you’re the fucking sex expert how many times have you done it?” you spit out. You sit up, fully looking him in the eyes. The teasing glint is long gone now, replaced by something that you realize is close to pity.
“Like… every time?” he says weakly.
“Every time,” you repeat, voice flat. “Every time you hook up with a girl you go down on her?”
“I at least offer!”
A bitter silence falls over the two of you as you turn over this new piece of information in your head. Of course it’s something that you’ve thought about from time to time, but you always just thought it was something optional. A little appetizer to the main course. And you don’t get an appetizer every time you get a meal. But as you think back to all your partners, all the excuses that they gave you for not wanting to do it, you can’t help but feel… bad. Was there something about you that made all your partners not want to go down on you?
“It’s nothing wrong with you,” Baekhyun says. He has a funny way of doing that, assuming what you’re thinking without you saying anything. “I think you just happen to only date terrible people.”
“Thanks, Byun.”
He shrinks away. He knows you only call him that when you’re pissed. “Hey,” he says softly, tugging at your pajama pant leg. “I could do it for you if you wanted.”
You nearly shoot up straight in your seat. “Excuse me?”
He holds his hands up in front of his face, anticipating you to smack him. “I’m being serious. Just so you could see what all the hype is about.”
It’s not an immediately horrible idea. It was just a favor, a way for you to test the waters. But still, thinking that Baekhyun is (objectively) good looking and pretending that you don’t occasionally fantasize about him from time to time (which is a totally normal thing to happen to best friends) are completely different things from, well, actually having sex with him.
“Is it going to be weird?” you ask. “Y’know, after?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think so. I’ve had lots of meaningless sex.”
“Ouch.”
“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “I mean that we’re not going to fall in love or anything just because I put my mouth on you. You’ll still be my best friend.”
“Besides,” he continues. “Won’t it feel better knowing that it’s coming from someone who cares about you? Instead of some rando who won’t pay for dinner?”
“Can you please be nicer about my dating history?”
“Date a normal guy then I'll see.” Baekhyun sticks his pinky out towards you. “We can drop it right now and I’ll never bring it up again, I swear. But if you’re interested… I’m offering.”
As you stare at his outstretched pinky, you think one more time that maybe this is a bad idea. Then, your treacherous mind betrays you. How bad could it be? It was only a one time thing.
“You better be good,” you say, hooking your pinky with his.
He grins cheekily. “Never had any complaints.”
The two of you wisely decide to not do anything that night, to give you both some time to think about it and maybe even back out. You almost do. Several times, in fact. But the curiosity always wins out over the anxiety in the end. One week later, you’re in your own apartment, sitting next to each other on the side of your bed. He’s freshly showered, and he smells like your shampoo (he always uses too much), and suddenly this is feeling too real.
“It’s just me,” he says softly, noticing your nerves. “Do you want to back out?”
You hesitate for only a second before firmly shaking your head, as if doing so could convince the butterflies in your stomach to settle. “I’m ready.”
Baekhyun’s eyes flutter shut as he leans forward, pursing his lips the slightest amount. A strange feeling, a mix of overwhelm, panic, and maybe even manic laughter fills your chest. “Wait,” you blurt out.
He opens his eyes, biting back an exasperated sigh. “We can stop.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s the… can we not kiss?”
There’s a pause, before he throws his hands up in disbelief. “No kissing?”
“You said it yourself, this is meaningless. And kissing just kinda makes it mean something to me?” Your voice shrinks with every word, wilting under the incredulity of his gaze.
“Meaningless wasn’t a good word,” he says quietly. Almost regretfully. “But yeah. Okay, we can skip the kissing.” He has an unreadable expression for a moment before he shakes it off, replacing it with the easygoing air that you’re used to. “Not sure how you want to get in the mood without it but–”
The words die on his tongue when you abruptly pull your shirt over your head, reaching back to unhook your bra before you have the chance to feel self-conscious about it. His gaze drops down, eyes widening almost comically. You shove the rest of your clothes down your legs and shift onto the bed so that you’re laying back against the pillows. “You’re the expert,” you say, trying to ignore the way that your voice is trembling slightly. “So show me how you get started.”
Baekhyun swallows, trying to not be too shameless in the way he’s staring at your body, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips slightly before he settles in between your legs. “Can I–?” he says carefully, his hand brushing against your waist.
“Do anything you want to do,” you exhale. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”
He lays down onto his stomach and spreads your legs, hooking his arm under your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut of their own accord, breath hitching in anticipation. What if you don’t like it after all? you think. What if he doesn’t? What if there actually is something wrong with me and he’s just like the rest of them?
A small gasp rips from your throat when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, brushing lightly at first before kissing the plush skin there. Your heart is hammering behind your ribcage, muscles tensing when he switches to the other side. You feel exposed with your core so close to his face, even more so since you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
After what seems simultaneously like a lifetime and a lightning flash, he finally focuses his attention onto your pussy. He starts slow, licking a long stripe up the length of your cunt, flicking his tongue at the top. Then his mouth descends, tongue dipping into your pussy, a low and almost inaudible groan leaving his mouth.
“Ah–” You let your head tip back against the pillows, eyes falling shut as he works his mouth over you. His tongue is so wet, lips so soft. You lose yourself in it for a while, slowly getting used to the feeling of him, the slick noises between your legs make you less embarrassed as each second slips by.
His lips abruptly seal over your clit and you jolt when he starts to suck. Your legs twitch in his hold of their own volition, your fists scrambling to clutch the sheets below you. “Oh, that feels good,” you gasp, your voice coming out breathy, foreign to your own ears.
Baekhyun repeats the motion, losing his grip on one of your thighs to bring the pads of his fingers to your dripping hole, shallowly thrusting the tips inside, flirting with your entrance. You buck your hips, inviting him in, pulse pounding in your ears as the pressure in your stomach continues to build higher and higher.
The second that he slips his fingers completely inside of you, you know that it’s over.
Long, slim digits slide inside of you, searching for the one spot that will make you break, mouth still working over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking. “You like that?” he asks, gaze burning, studying your expression.
He groans against your skin, and the sound of his voice, usually so light and airy, pitched lower with thinly disguised desperation, sends a new wave of arousal pulsing through you. “My hair,” he gasps, pulling away from you for a second. You look down to meet his gaze and are nearly bowled over by the sight of him: expression dark and thick with lust, lips pink and wet, dripping with you. “Put your hand in my hair.”
Your fingers sink into the soft locks of his hair, pushing his face against you. You’re practically riding his face now, but you don’t care, can’t care when it feels so good. WIth a final cry of his name, his mouth and his fingers bring you to the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, crackling like static in your veins. Your back bows, arching into him, your grip on his hair borderline painful. He keeps going, prolonging the pleasure until it becomes too much and you’re softly pleading for him to give in.
“Holy fuck,” you say finally.
“Good?” he asks. You look down to find him smirking playfully, equal parts annoying and endearing.
“Solid 8 out of 10,” you reply. “Always room for improvement.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes and gets up, handing you your clothes from the side of the bed. “I just gave you head and you wanna be smart with me.” He stands and your eyes widen when you see his sweatpants.
He’s hard as fuck.
“Do you want– um–” Your eyes flick away, trying to look anywhere but at it.
“Nah, it’s all good,” Baekhyun replies easily. If he’s embarrassed, he doesn’t show it, even if his voice sounds rough with need. “This was supposed to be for you.”
“Oh. Okay.” The reminder of all this is— a one-time favor— hits again. You try to pretend that you’re not disappointed. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure, but I get to pick.” He nudges you to scoot over and slides into bed next to you as if nothing’s changed, as if things are going to go back to normal just as easily as they had skewed from it.
Things don’t go back to normal.
How could they? Both of you had been too stupid, too naive (too hopeful?) to think otherwise. Baekhyun casts glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, and you find yourself zoning out into his face until he has to snap in front of you. When he feeds you a bite from his meal, as he always does, you notice the way that he swallows, gaze drifting to watch your lips close over his fork.
It’s torture. You can’t even get yourself off without thinking about the feeling of his mouth on you. Seeking other people is out of the question entirely because now that he’d shown you exactly what you’d been missing, how could you ever settle for anything less? You throw yourself into anything you can: work, exercise, picking up abandoned hobbies. Anything to get your mind off of him, off the sound of his voice when he’s turned on, the feeling of his hair in your fist…
“Are you like… okay?”
You blink back to reality, back from where you’ve been watching Baekhyun walk to the restroom, back to focus on Kyungsoo in front of you.
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, eating a fry to distract yourself. “Just been a bit distracted lately.”
Across the table, Kyungsoo narrows his eyes inquisitively. “Distracted by… Baekhyun?” he says carefully.
You deflate. “Is it that obvious?”
“Um… yes? I feel like I’m third-wheeling the two of you more than usual.”
“Soo…” You put your head in your hands and whine. “I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone and you need to be normal when Baek comes back.”
“No promises.”
“We… hooked up. Sort of.”
Instead of any sort of reaction of surprise, Kyungsoo just blinks at you. “Oh. You haven’t been hooking up this whole time?”
“What?!” You lower your voice when the neighboring tables whip their heads to look at you. “Is that what people think?”
“People think that you guys are full on together and have been for years,” he deadpans.
“Well, you know that we’re not, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he shrugs. “But there’s always the possibility that things are happening beyond my knowledge.”
“What do I do?”
Kyungsoo pauses. “Are things just awkward now? If it’s that, then I think it’ll fizzle out on its own.”
“No, it’s that… I think I kind of like him? Or at least want to hook up with him again. And I think that maybe he also wants to?”
“So hook up again.”
In the corner of your eye you see Baekhyun leave the restroom so you adjust your posture, stealthily raising your eyebrow towards him so that Kyungsoo knows he’s coming. “It’s not that easy, Soo.”
“I think it is,” he replies, then clears his throat before raising the volume of his voice. “Anyways, did you want to get dessert?”
“Ooh, you guys are talking about dessert?” Baekhyun slides into the booth next to you, stealing a fry off your plate easily. “Can we split a slice of cheesecake?”
“Get your own slice, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “Last time you hogged it all.”
Baekhyun splutters in protest, and you laugh, ignoring the way that your heart squeezes.
“You wanna come by my place for a bit? Watch a movie?” Baekhyun asks.
When Kyungsoo left the car just moments ago, it’s as if he took all of the easygoing nature of the hangout with him. Now the atmosphere is heavy, wrought with tension so thick you can practically taste it. Baekhyun drums his fingers against the wheel anxiously.
You could say no. You have to do your grocery shopping tomorrow, your place is a wreck and you need to do a deep clean, you don’t have any of the belongings you need to stay overnight (which is a complete non-issue. You’ve had extra clothes and a spare toothbrush at his for as long as you can remember). You’re not stupid: you know what will end up happening if you stay the night.
But a part of you that you aren’t quite ready to reckon with yet wants it.
“Sure,” you say.
Neither of you are paying attention to the movie that he throws on when you get there. His arm around you is nothing new, his knee knocking against yours is familiar territory, but it all feels so different now. You’re hyperaware of everything: every shift he makes, every time he clears his throat.
Your heart hammers in your chest, beating behind your ribcage with a ferocity you’ve never known before. Calm down, you think. This is Baekhyun. This is Baekhyun and this is normal and we’re just best friends–
He calls your name.
Softly. Pleading.
When you turn towards him, his face is so close that you can count every individual eyelash, see every mole on his face in spectacular detail. The soft glow from the lamplight bathes him in gold. His gaze drifts down, down towards your mouth, his lips parting ever so slightly.
Fuck it.
Before you know it, you’re straddling him, thighs bracketing his hips. You throw your shirt over your head and unclip your bra, shuddering slightly when he splays his hand across your side. His lips dip toward yours and you pull away in a panic.
“No kissing,” you whisper.
He exhales harshly, almost like a laugh, before he diverts his pathway to your neck. “God, you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. His hands reach up to cup your tits, brushing your nipples under his thumb.
You roll your hips down, pressing yourself against his hardening cock with increasing intensity. “Shit,” he hisses, pulling away. “Lay down for me.” He pushes you gently onto your back, discarding his clothing and the rest of yours in the process. His fingers enter you slowly, stretching you out as he covers your body with his.
“You’re so obvious, y’know?” he chuckles against your skin when you whine. “Practically giving me fuck me eyes every damn day.”
“Fuck you.” Your voice holds no malice, not even a little bit of bite, going breathy around the edges when he thrusts his fingers in deep. “You’re not any better. I saw you looking at my ass the other day.”
“Can you blame me?” He pulls out and positions you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his cock positioned at your entrance. “You’re fucking perfect.”
He doesn’t waste any time, immediately thrusting into you at a brutal pace. It’s messy, frantic, your blood thrumming through your veins. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life, each thrust pushing you deeper into the couch cushions.
“Holy fuck,” you moan, your head falling back. “Just like that.”
“Yeah?” he grunts, his fringe hanging low over his eyes, casting the top half of his face in shadow. “Tell me how good it is.”
You don’t even have it in you to make a smart comment back, too bowled over by the quick pace and the mounting pleasure. “S-So good, Baek. Don’t stop.”
He pulls out of you momentarily just to drape your legs over his shoulders, practically bending you in half when he re-enters your slick pussy, caging his arms around your head. The position makes you feel so vulnerable, so completely under his will that it sends a thrill up your spine.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of keeping up the pace, “just how much I’ve thought about you since that night? Can’t get the fuckin’ taste of you out of my head.”
You whimper at the heat of his confession. “Me too,” you say. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Never had anyone like that.”
He chuckles, slowing his hips until he’s just grinding into you. “And what about this? Any of those assholes fuck you this good?”
You shake your head, subtly arching into him, trying to get him to resume his pace. “Never. Keep going, need more.”
“Gonna have to hear you say ‘please,’” he teases.
“God, please,” you gasp. “Please, I want it.”
He fucks into you like he has something to prove, moving his hips with devastating precision. His control is slipping, you see it in the way that his jaw tenses, feel it in the way his hips start to stutter. You’re no better— with every minute, you feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you, the overwhelming heat coiling low in your stomach.
“I’m close,” you whisper.
“Me too,” he says, voice breaking. He snakes his hand around as best as he can to reach your clit, the pad of his finger brushing the sensitive nub. “With me, please. Wanna feel it.”
You unravel together, bodies curled in on one another. It rolls through you in waves, white-hot pleasure that makes your vision turn to static around the edges. His fingers dig into your sides, breath hot as he pants against your collarbone, emptying himself inside of you.
You don’t even have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pulling out and kneeling on the floor, draping your legs over his shoulders once again. “What are you— fuck!” Your oversensitive body twitches when he puts his tongue against you, sealing his lips over your clit and inserting two fingers inside.
“I need to taste you again,” he pants. Desperate, needy in a primal way that makes you dizzy. “Please.”
Your moans turn to full-on whimpers as he brings you back to the edge in record time, squeezing your eyes shut as you tremble through it. You cum with a shout of his name, gripping his hair between your fingers.
Then, as your body comes down to Earth, the reality of what’s happened starts to dawn on you.
Uncertainty settles in before anything else. You shift so that you can meet Baekhyun’s gaze, but to your amazement, you don’t see your own hesitance reflected back at you. He smiles at you easily, charmingly, as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out.
“You alright?” he asks. “Was it too rough?”
“No,” you say, voice hoarse. “Can you get my clothes?”
You get dressed in silence, watching the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his shirt over his head. What the fuck just happened? Last time was just a one-off, a favor. But this?
“Can we talk about this?”
Baekhyun’s easygoing facade slips for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, sit down.”
You sit down next to him on the couch—the couch where you had just had sex, what the fuck?—and take a deep breath. “Where are we going with this? The sex and stuff?”
He shrugs. “Wherever you want it to go. Are you having fun?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page about, y’know, expectations and stuff.”
Baekhyun chooses his next words carefully before reaching over and putting his hand on top of yours. “We can always stop and I won’t be upset or disappointed. But if you’re open to it, I would really like to keep doing this.”
“I’m just scared it’s going to change things for us.”
“Nothing will change,” he whispers, smiling. “You’re still my best friend.”
And the way he looks at you… how can you be expected not to believe him?
It becomes a routine.
Frantic quickies at 3am, lazy morning sex, even in the back of his car after a party. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can’t keep his hands off of you. Nearly every time you’re alone together, your clothes end up discarded, forgotten on the floor. He learns his way around your body quickly, until making you cum is second nature, as easily as making you laugh. You’re not a bad student either: you learn that he really likes it when you beg, loves it even more when you say his name right before you shatter on his fingers, on his lips, on his cock.
One more time turns into two more times turns into five. Full days pass where the two of you spend all day in bed, lazily dozing in between sessions until you remember that there actually is an outside world that you have to attend to. You’re running out of turtlenecks to wear to work, the only clothing sufficient enough to hide the constellations of love bites across your neck and chest.
Despite all this, he’s still your best friend. You still swap inside jokes, still annoy the hell out of each other. He’s still your comfort person, your safe space, even as you become more vulnerable with him than you ever thought possible.
It’s another lazy night following a lazy day spent in bed. You trace abstract patterns on his back absentmindedly when he perks up suddenly. “I’m bored,” he says. “You wanna go for a walk?”
“Right now?” you ask. “It’s dark out.”
“We’ll just walk to the park and back. What, you don’t think I’ll protect you if any monsters come out of the shadows?”
To Baekhyun’s credit, the park is actually well-lit at night. You take the winding trail through the trees slowly, with all the time in the world. You still find things to talk about, even after years of friendship, after all the hours that you’ve been spending together recently.
“Do you hear that?” Baekhyun asks. And you do, the sounds of live music drawing closer and closer. As you approach the gazebo, you see an older man sitting inside, playing his guitar.
“Hey, isn’t this–?” you say.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen in recognition before a smile spreads across his face. “Oh yeah!”
A high school dance, one of the few that you attended, you can’t remember which one. You had both been rejected by your crushes and ended up having to go with each other. During the slow dance to this very song, the two of you decided to dance together but could not for the life of you stop giggling. Dirty looks were cast your way by the other couples on the dance floor, but you kept snickering into his shoulder, and he kept muffling his laughter in your hair.
“Shall we dance?” he asks, holding his hand out in an exaggerated manner.
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you curtsy before taking his hand.
It starts out the same way, all giggly and joking, Baekhyun twirling and dipping you until your head spins. You see the old man cast a smile your way and you nod at him as he continues playing. “Beautiful!” he shouts.
“Isn’t she?” Baekhyun laughs.
And maybe it’s the way that you become aware of his steady hand on your waist, maybe it’s the way that his eyes crinkle up at the edges when he smiles. But all of a sudden, you become painfully, horribly, much too aware of the fact that you are definitely, without question, in love with him.
When had it all changed? Somewhere among all the times that you were under him? In between the whispered praises, the affectionate touches? Or maybe, God forbid, were the feelings there all along?
It doesn’t really matter in the end. All that you know is that everything is different now. It’s as if the world ceases spinning, time slows to a crawl. You’re in love with your best friend. The realization is enough to knock the wind out of your chest.
Baekhyun tilts his head at you questioningly. “You okay?” he murmurs, eyebrows creasing with concern.
You just nod. Your emotions are so stuck in your throat that you’re afraid to answer. The gentle strumming of the guitar stops, leaving the two of you in the silence of the night.
“What’s up with you?”
You blink and find Baekhyun staring at you, concerned. “Nothing,” you reply.
“You’ve been so quiet lately,” he says. “Distant.”
“Just have some things on my mind.” You can’t, won’t meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since that night in the park, and all of your energy has been focused on keeping everything normal. The way it always was, the way it always should be. But your mask has been slipping lately, wearing your irritation on your sleeve, spacing out more than usual. Baekhyun’s too perceptive to have gone this long without noticing.
He turns back to the TV, worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth the way he does when he’s thinking. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” And for a moment, you feel your heart rate start to pick up, fluttering with hope. You know that I have feelings for you, right? You imagine how those words would sound coming from him. Would he say it in a serious way? Or with that same, lighthearted confidence that’s permeated your entire friendship?
“That I’m seeing someone.”
You didn’t think it was possible for your entire world to shatter with just four words. He has the audacity to look surprised when you gasp, an ugly, strangled sound in the back of your throat.
“Is that… not what–”
“What?”
“I’m sorry!” he splutters. “I thought you figured it out and that’s why you were pulling away–”
You stand up and pace across the room, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Shielding yourself from him. “Since when?”
“For like a month,” he says quietly.
“Baek… we hooked up so much in the past–”
“I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, frustrated. “I know. But we’ve really just been talking and only went on a couple dates and just decided that we should be exclusive. Like literally last night.”
You laugh bitterly. “So we have to stop, then. Thanks for the fucking heads up, I guess.”
“Stop what?”
You look at him as if he’s grown two heads. “Are you joking?”
Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “If you’re asking me if we have to stop having sex, then yes, we have to stop having sex.”
“No shit, Byun.” You sigh, a clusterfuck of emotions rising like bile in your chest. “But where does it stop? We’re going to have to stop hanging out, she probably won’t like it if we hang out at all.”
“Okay, hold on.” Baekhyun stands and grabs you gently by both shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions. I love you, but please calm down.”
I love you. It hits you like a slap to the face. “Don’t say that.”
His face twists with pain. “I know you hate when I tell you to calm down but I need you to hear me right now. Nothing’s going to change. We just have to stop hooking up, okay?”
Of course he doesn’t even register that the calm down part of the sentence wasn’t the part that bothered you. “Right. Remember what happened the last time we said nothing was going to change between us?”
Baekhyun falls silent, grappling with the right words to say. Finally, he settles on, “Please. Please don’t hate me for this.”
You throw your hands up in frustration, twisting out of his grip to grab your bag and head towards the door. “I don’t know, it kinda feels like you’re breaking up with me right now.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice hardens instantly. “We’re friends. We’re just best friends.”
“Best friends don’t do this!” you yell. “They don’t have morning sex or dance with each other at the park or have sit down conversations saying that they have to stop hooking up because one of them started seeing someone. They just don’t.”
“So what are you saying then?” he says, tone sharp enough to cut with, dripping with malice. “That you’re in love with me or something?”
Your breath hitches. The way he says it as if it’s something so terrible.
“What if I am?” Your voice cracks, small and pathetic.
He melts instantly, all the venom sucked out of him in one go, and you see your best friend again. “Oh.”
Humiliation spreads like a virus in your chest. So he didn’t know after all.
“I’m so sorry–”
You throw your bag over your shoulder. The second your back turns to him, the hot tears fall down your face. “It’s fine. Just forget it.”
“Wait, please–”
“I said forget it.” You head towards the door without another look back at him, slamming it shut behind you. You almost want to wait to hear the hurried footsteps behind you, but you can’t stand the thought of waiting in that cold, empty hallway, waiting to be followed by someone who would never come.
The calls stop after the third day.
Before the silence, he calls every hour on the hour. You listen to a few of the voicemails from the first day. Hi, can we please talk about this? I don’t want to lose you. Please. After a while, it gets too painful to hear his voice, and the number of unopened voicemails ticks higher and higher until they don’t anymore.
You hardly leave your apartment as weeks go by. It hadn’t occurred to you before now just how much time you had been spending with him. Your days feel emptier now, lacking a spark that he always brought. The silence of your empty place feels almost oppressive.
The thought comes into your mind one night when you’re burying your feelings into a pint of ice cream that this must be what it feels like to be heartbroken. You laugh a bit at the irony– you always figured that the first time you would experience this, you’d at least have the solace of your best friend to crawl to.
A rapt knocking at your front door brings you out of your stupor and your heart leaps into your throat. You sit frozen for a few seconds before the knocking comes again. Before you can think about it too hard, you’re on your feet bounding towards the door.
“Baek, I–”
“Uh, hi?”
It’s not Baekhyun on the other end, but Kyungsoo, who looks a little startled at your appearance. “I was getting a little worried about you, you haven’t answered any of my texts.”
“Oh, um… you can come in. It’s a bit of a mess.”
Kyungsoo looks around your place as he steps inside, littered with trash and piles of laundry. You have half a mind to be embarrassed about it, but he just looks with concern, free of judgement. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
You tell him everything, trying your best not to trip over your words, determined to get through the story without crying. Kyungsoo listens silently, nodding when appropriate, but never makes a move to interject. Finally, when you’re done, and the lump in your throat feels almost too large to bear, he says, “So you haven’t contacted him since this happened?”
“No.”
“And he just sent a bunch of voicemails, didn’t text, didn’t show up here?”
“Yes.”
“And you… want him to?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Your head sinks into your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyelids. “I don’t know what I feel right now. I just wish that we never did anything to begin with so I never had to realize these feelings.”
“Well… we can’t take it back. And I think it’s obvious now that things have changed, so… now all that’s left to do is renegotiate the terms of the relationship.”
“But what if…” Your voice comes out small. “What if I don’t like his terms? What if he doesn’t like mine?”
You feel a gentle hand on your back. “You won’t know until you talk about it. That goes for him too. He needs to be a better communicator. Jesus.”
You laugh wetly. “It’s something we’ve always had in common.”
“Avoidance attachment?”
When you peek up through your fingers, Kyungsoo’s smiling good-naturedly. “C’mon, get up. Take a shower and I’ll clean up a little.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you groan.
“I know. I want to. You don’t have a choice.”
The next time you hear a knock on your door, you know that it’s not Kyungsoo.
Baekhyun smiles at you sadly in the doorway, already looking like he’s bracing himself for your rejection. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say. Your tongue feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
“I can leave if you want me to, and I won’t bother you again, I swear. I just thought I’d try to talk to you one last time?”
You swallow, then open the door wider. “Come in.”
He looks tired. He hovers around the corners of the room as if he doesn’t know this place better than his own. You get him a glass of water, and you sit awkwardly side by side on your couch. The silence is nearly unbearable, but thankfully, he doesn’t take very long to break it.
“I broke up with her.”
You nod slowly. “When?”
“A day after everything,” Baekhyun says. “I told you in a voicemail, but uh, I assumed you were ignoring it or you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I didn’t hear it,” you admit. “But I never asked you to do that for me.”
“You didn’t have to.” Baekhyun takes a breath, fidgeting with the glass in his hands. “I was scared to admit that becoming physical with you had changed things between us. I thought that if I tried looking elsewhere that things between us could go back to the way they were.”
“You wanted things to go back?” you ask.
“I thought that I would rather things go back to normal than to lose you entirely.”
“You kept insisting that things never changed,” you say. “You were the one that kept that boundary.”
“I know,” he sighs. He looks up at you, dark eyes broken. “I was a fucking idiot. I thought that if I kept saying it, I would believe it.”
“Couldn’t you feel it?” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, stinging the back of your throat. “Couldn’t you feel that I was falling for you?”
“I didn’t want to believe it. I thought it was my brain telling me what I wanted to hear.” Baekhyun laughs. “I’m such a mess. I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t.” You reach over and grab his hands. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, eyes glimmering with hope. “You didn’t ruin anything, Baek. I should have been more upfront with my feelings too. I shouldn’t have ignored your calls.”
Baekhyun worries his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking again. “So if you were to be more upfront about your feelings now, what would you say?”
“I would say…” You take a deep breath. “That I think I’m in love with you. And I want to try being something more than your best friend.”
His face breaks into a relieved grin. “I love you too. And I’m so, so sorry for everything.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I do,” he frowns. “I did a really douchey thing to you and I regret it—”
You cut him off by climbing into his lap, putting both of your hands on the sides of his face. His words die on his tongue, lips falling apart in awe, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“Please,” you whisper. “Just kiss me.”
Soft lips meet yours cautiously, hesitantly. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close, deepening the kiss at the same time. He kisses you with care, like you have all the time in the world, moving his lips against yours perfectly in sync.
And it’s so amazing. It’s unfair just how amazing it feels, how long you’ve denied yourself from being like this, from being with him. You melt in his arms, losing yourself in the rhythm of his lips, the soft gasps of breath in between, the warmth of his body against yours.
You slip your hands into his hair and he groans, breaking apart from you for a second. “Don’t do that,” he murmurs.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I… I like it a lot.” He looks up at you through his lashes, exhaling shakily. “I just want to do this for a while and that makes it really hard for me to not carry you into your bedroom right now.”
You smile, rolling your hips down once, decisively, onto his lap before dipping down for another kiss. “No reason why we can’t do both,” you whisper.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen before he brings you in even closer, pressing his face into your shoulder. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“Just making up for lost ti—ah!” Your hands scramble to grab onto his shoulders as he stands, carrying you to the bedroom. Your laughter echoes off the walls of your apartment as he walks, filling the place with the light that it sorely missed, that it won’t ever be without from this moment on.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
⟡ summary: kyungsoo, your classmate had a little crush on you.
⟡ content: college au, fluff, kyungsoo x gn!reader | word count: 0.9k words
⟡ a/note: a cuteness overload for my dear anon who gave me this idea. i personally adore how it turned out !!!
“Doh Kyungsoo?”
The name left your lips easily, but its effect on him was instant. Kyungsoo lifted his gaze, and for a second, he looked utterly disoriented, as if you had pulled him back from another world. His eyes widened, darting quickly to the open pages of his notebook before snapping back to you, a flush of color creeping up his neck. He looked caught, his posture stiffening as if he suddenly felt dangerously exposed.
“Y-yes,” he breathed, the word hitching in his throat. “It’s me… here.”
“I knew it was you,” you said with a bright smile. You didn’t wait for an invitation, instead pulling out the heavy wooden chair to take a seat directly across from him. The library was quiet. “I saw you from the stacks and hoped I wasn’t mistaken.”
Kyungsoo blinked, his hands hovering uncertainly over his notes. “You were looking for me?”
“Actually, the professor told me you were the person to talk to,” you explained, leaning in slightly. “He said you could help me clarify a few things from the lecture. If that’s not too much to ask, of course? I know you’re probably busy.”
“Yeah... sure, sure. Of course. It’s no trouble,” he stammered, his voice gaining a tiny bit of steadiness despite the way his heart hammered against his ribs. He closed his notebook halfway, then opened it again, seemingly unsure of what to do with his hands now that you were actually there. “What is it? What do you need help with?”
“Well, I was struggling with the second chapter,” you said, watching the way he carefully avoided holding your gaze for too long. “But honestly, I’m just glad I found you. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”
“I do,” he whispered, finally meeting your eyes for a fleeting, intense second. “I definitely remember.”
He gripped his pen, looking down at the diagram in his textbook, his thumb tracing the edge of the page with a nervous rhythm.
“So, the fundamental concept is…” he started, but his voice cracked, and he immediately cleared his throat, his face deepening into a shade of red. “Sorry. The concept is based on… well…”
“Kyungsoo,” you murmured softly, letting out a small laugh as you leaned your chin on your hand. “Are you secretly hiding the answers to the midterm in that notebook?”
He let out a sharp, startled breath that turned into a shy, stifled chuckle. “No secrets here. I’m just... I didn’t expect to be explaining this to anyone today.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. I can tell why the professor recommended you.” You reached out to tap the corner of his page to bring him back to the lesson. “Show me that graph again, please? The one you were scrawling over when I walked up.”
Kyungsoo nodded, visibly trying to settle his racing pulse. As he began to explain the technicalities, his natural intelligence started to override his shyness. He spoke with a quiet passion, his hands moving slightly to emphasize a point, though he still paused every time your sleeve brushed against his arm.
“Does that make sense?” he asked tentatively, finally risking a longer look at your face. “Or did I just ramble for ten minutes straight?”
“Total sense,” you reassured him, giving him an encouraging grin. “You’re a natural. Thank you!”
Kyungsoo finally relaxed his shoulders, a genuine, tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay… and sorry for being so awkward. It’s been a long afternoon.”
“Awkward?” You leaned back in your chair, studying the way he carefully reorganized his pens. “Actually,” you said, the thought slipping out before you could filter it, “you’re actually really cute when you’re focused like this.”
Kyungsoo jumped, his pen clattering onto the table. He looked at you with wide, startled eyes, his face instantly blooming into a deep, unmistakable red. He looked so shaken by the word ‘cute’.
“Hell no, scratch that,” you corrected with a grin, leaning closer. “You’re handsome. Definitely handsome is the right word.”
A small, breathless laugh escaped him—not the laugh of someone who knew he looked good, but the panicked, airy sound of someone who couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Kyungsoo ducked his head, his fingers trembling slightly as he closed his textbook. He was clearly trying to find a way to keep the moment from ending, his mind racing to find any excuse to keep you with him.
“Are you... are you hungry?” he blurted out, finally looking up. “It’s getting late, and studying works up an appetite. We could go get something to eat… if you want.”
You looked at him with soft, knowing eyes, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Doh Kyungsoo, are you asking me out on a date?”
“No! I mean—yes—no, it’s just—” He started waving his hands frantically, his words tripping over each other. “It’s for the lecture! It’s just to... to continue the explanation in a more comfortable environment. Entirely academic. Promise!”
You broke into a loud, genuine laugh at his flustered defense, the sound echoing through the quiet stacks. “SHHHH!” a sharp hiss came from a few rows over, followed by a stern glare from a student buried in books.
The sudden reprimand caught you off guard, and you felt your own cheeks turn hot as you realized how loud you’d been. You looked back at Kyungsoo, who was also half blushing furiously, half laughing from embarrassment, both of you realizing you had completely forgotten you were in a library.
“Okay, okay,” you whispered, ducking your head to hide your red face. “I’ll go. Because I’m definitely hungry and… because you’re cute.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes lit up, a small smile breaking through his nerves. “Then it’s a... a lecture dinner,” he whispered back, his heart racing as he began to pack his bag, finally feeling like his daydreams might actually be coming true.
✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼
i want to FLUSTER that man. i want to make him BLUSH. i want to make him feel VULNERABLE AROUND ME. i want to make him WEAK IN THE KNEES. i want to kiss him
hiii!! if you can, could you please do Sehun with “just want to look at you like this for a moment” and “look at you. What a mess you are” along with physical action no. 11, just add lots of lots of praise with it.
there are barely any writings for sehun here, it’s hard being a sehun biased lmao. thank you and i love your writings 🫶🏻
hi anon i'm so sorry this took a million years, i hope it's okay that it's just a drabble <33
smut (minors dni): sehun x f!reader. soft dom sehun, restraints, praise, edging, overstim, fingering. wc: 631
"Wiggle your wrists for me, baby," Sehun says quietly. You follow his request, shifting your wrists ever so slightly. It's not uncomfortable, but there isn't any give in the ties that are currently securing your arms to the headboard of your shared bed. You are, to your delight, fully restrained.
Sehun's lips trail down your bare body, soft feather-light touches that almost tickle as much as they make your blood run hot. He stops at your legs, urging your thighs apart with his hands. His eyes meet yours: dark, endless pools of desire, pink lips parting softly.
"God, look at you," he whispers. "So fucking gorgeous."
Your cheeks burn hot and you look away. With a tut of his tongue, he grabs your bottom chin with a firm but gentle hold and turns you to face him once again. "Where you hiding, pretty?" he teases, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly. "Just want to look at you like this for a moment."
"Please," you whimper. "Touch me."
Two of his fingers dip shallowly into your wet folds before sinking in, burying themselves in you deep to his knuckle. You gasp, pulling on the ties instinctively, but there's no movement. You could tug, and pull, and thrash, and you know that you'd still be securely fashioned to the bed, and the thought of that just makes everything ten times hotter.
Sehun dips his head into the crook of your neck, wet lips pressing against your skin as his fingers begin to pick up speed. "That's it, just like that," he murmurs, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your spine. "Feel good?"
"Mhm." Your hips buck up when his fingers press against that spot, blindly chasing some sort of friction. "So good."
The pressure is consistent, building up steadily until your words are nothing but hitched breathes and whiny gasps. You clench your fists as you feel it, the anticipation of your orgasm just over the horizon. "Fuck, 'm close," you say, your eyes fluttering shut. "Please, ple–"
Sehun's hand withdraws.
Your eyes fly open as you writhe, hips chasing the sitmulation as your failed orgasm withers away. He holds you still, his gentle hold a stark contrast to the mischievous look in his eyes.
"Just be patient, sweetheart," he smirks, inserting his fingers back into your dripping cunt. "I'll make you feel good soon."
Soon was not the next time. Or even the next. By the fourth time he's dangled you over the edge, you're panting, chest heaving, thighs shaking from behind held open for so long. Your inner thighs are a disaster, slick from your juices. You're there again, so close you can practically taste it.
"You close?" he pants, driving his fingers into you at a brutal pace. "Don't lie."
"Yes!" you wail, not even caring how loud you are. "Please, please. Sehunnie, I need to cum."
His thumb presses against your clit and you nearly sob with relief as your orgasm crashes into you. Your back bows as you arch into his touch, your arms still tightly restrained over your head. Your head lolls back as you come down to earth.
Sehun wipes your sweat-damp hair from your forehead and takes in your broken expression. "Look at you," he says. "What a mess you are."
You cry out when his fingers begin to move again inside of you, resuming their pace as if nothing had happened. "Oh–! Fuck!" You're so sensitive that it feels as though your blood is on fire, white-hot pleasure threatening to burn you up from the inside out. You tug on the restraints but there's no escaping, no shying away from this.
"I thought you wanted to cum," he teases, pressing a kiss to your earlobe. "Well then... cum again for me, pretty."
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
↳ after dating each other for a few months, you're finally ready to take the next step. part 2 of match my freak.
↳ wc: 3.5k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | baekhyun pov. reader's first time. these two are horny and down bad for each other asf. very brief sexting/phone sex, kissing and marking, kinda body worship-y, fingering, oral (f receiving), rawwww p in v, dirty talk, edging, baek definitely has a begging kink lmao, slight dacryphilia
↳ guess who's back, back again (with a double post no less!). ty everyone for ur patience as i finished my semester and now i can get back to what matters (writing smut)! i also didn't mean to post this so early, oops something sweet and something nasty for our man's bday lmaooo. i hope yall like it but if u don't pls don't tell me omg
Some say that if you build this idea of someone in your head too high, you can only be disappointed. Those people clearly hadn’t met you.
Baekhyun’s been seeing you for a few months and he has yet to be let down. From your first date at the roller rink to now, helping you cook a three course meal for the both of you, you’ve been nothing but lovely and kind and perfect. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, waits for you to reveal some deal-breaking, relationship-ending secret, but it never comes. No, you’re just… everything he’s ever wanted and more. How could he ever have thought that he’s been in love before this moment?
He watches you stir the pot, chin in his hands like some sort of lovesick fool. You’re wearing a headband to keep your hair out of your face while you cook, giving him the ability to look at your face in its entirety: the brightness of your eyes, the curve of your lip, the shell of your ear. He admires shamelessly, not even pausing when you turn to look at him.
“Baek?”
“Hmm.”
“The salt, please?”
He snaps out of it to hand you your salt shaker, but before he does, he pulls you gently by the wrist towards him to smack an obnoxious kiss against your temple. You giggle in his grasp, and the sound is so beautiful he could have been convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven.
After dinner, he’s washing the dishes (because let’s be real— he didn’t really help you much with dinner prep) when you come up from behind and wrap your arms around his waist.
“Hi baby,” he smiles.
“Hi,” you reply shyly. “I’ve been thinking about something.” You lean the side of your cheek against his back. “Do you think I could come over and spend the weekend at your place?”
Baekhyun puts the plate he’s finished washing in the drying rack and picks up another. “Of course. But… you’ve spent the night before. Why the hesitation?”
A pause. Then…
“I think I’m ready.”
He nearly drops the plate and just barely catches it before it falls into the sink. The tips of his ears feel hot, burning hot. “Really? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” You laugh self-consciously. “I think I’ve been ready for weeks but I wanted to be 100%.”
He turns the sink off and wipes his hands on the dishrag before turning in your grasp. “And you could still think about it for as many weeks as you want. Or even change your mind, I won’t be mad.”
You smile at him mischievously, creeping your hands up the hem of his hoodie. “I won’t,” you say. Simple. Matter-of-fact. As if those two words haven’t just made all the blood in Baekhyun’s body go straight to his dick.
“Okay,” he says, trying to match your nonchalance (and failing). “Next weekend then.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You lean in and kiss him softly, and Baekhyun falls further and further and further.
Baekhyun wishes that he could say that dating you properly, seeing you every few days and talking to you daily, has somewhat curbed his need for you.
But of course it hasn’t.
He knows he hasn’t been pushy in the slightest. He’s let you take the lead, only taking the next physical step when you prompt him, happily content to take it at your pace because above all of his needs is the need to make you comfortable and happy.
But to tell the truth, you’re making it so difficult for him. He can’t prove that you’ve been doing it on purpose, but it seems that the length of your skirts have been getting shorter, the necklines of your top plunging deeper. And you just love sitting in his lap, perching on top of him so prettily like you belong there, talking about your day like Baekhyun isn’t growing harder underneath you by the second. Once or twice he’s even had to move you off of him, discreetly hiding the evidence of his arousal with a pillow.
You’re not completely oblivious. That much has been made clear since the little gift you gave him that first night, and if it hadn’t been, your intentions became increasingly apparent the night you sent him what started off as an innocent text, sometime after your second proper date.
Whatcha doing right now?
Baekhyun had just closed his eyes to go to bed, but sleep was overrated when the other option was talking to you.
Just got in bed.
You?
The next text had Baekhyun nearly choke on his own spit.
About to touch myself.
He sat straight up in bed, fingers flying over his keyboard as he frantically typed out a response.
Can I see?
The texting bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Then reappeared again. Baekhyun’s heart was thudding in his throat, his growing erection becoming painful in his sweats.
No
But you can listen
You picked up instantly, and Baekhyun’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock the second he heard your breathy, whiny moan.
“Baekhyun.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking about, baby,” he said, voice thick and needy.
“Thinkin’ about you,” you sighed, and oh god, he can hear just how wet your pussy is through the tinny phone speaker. “And what I want you to do to me.”
He talks you through it, holding back his own orgasm until you fall over the edge underneath your own fingers, your breathless gasps echoing in his head long after you hang up.
In all of the weeks that Baekhyun’s spent fantasizing about you, it never occurred to him that you would be such a tease, just as into it as he is. Somehow he had equated your lack of experience to innocence.
That, clearly, was a mistake.
The night starts as it always does when you come over to his place.
He orders some takeout and you eat it on his couch, talking away about your week. On any other day, Baekhyun would be content to listen to you for hours, but his mind is admittedly somewhere else.
“You want to shower first?” he asks. You always do.
“Uh… you go first. Wait for me afterwards, okay?”
Baekhyun tries not to give in too much to anticipation. He showers faster than he’s ever showered before, and the little smile you give him when you take his place, tightly holding your bundle of pajamas to your chest, nearly makes his knees buckle. He paces around the room as he waits, drumming his hands on his thighs, rearranging the items on his nightstand in various configurations until he gives up and leaves them as they were. The wait is borderline torture. He can hear you on the other side of the wall moving around in his bathroom, his dick nearly jumping out of his pants when he hears the shower turn off. He closes his eyes as he sits in bed, back against the headboard, nearly even tries meditating for God’s sake. Anything to calm himself down.
Finally, the door opens.
His lips part when he drinks in the sight of you, perfectly dolled up in a baby pink lingerie set that hugs your body perfectly. You smile at him, cocking your head to the side in amusement.
“Are you just gonna stare?” you tease.
“Fuck, babe.” His voice sounds rough to his own ears. “C’mere.”
It feels like an eternity watching you cross the room towards him, but you finally settle into his lap, thighs bracketing his hips, hands dragging up his chest. “Can I confess something?”
“Anything.”
You lean in to whisper close to his ear, your breath warming the side of his neck. “I’ve been wanting this for so long.”
His hands fly to your hips as he groans, fingers slightly digging into your soft skin. “Trust me. I have too.”
Kissing you is familiar territory. He lets his hands roam over your body in ways he’s never let himself do before as his lips capture yours. He draws circles into your waist, feather-light touches across your thighs, your ass. Tentatively reaching up to cup your tits. That makes you whine, hips twitching slightly on top of him, gasping into his mouth. He uses the opening to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting you.
It’s barely even been a few minutes and he already feels drunk in it, drunk in you. You lean back, the thread of saliva connecting your mouths snapping loose as you reach back to unhook your bra. The sight is so fucking erotic he thinks he could die.
The first signs of nervousness flicker across your features and your hands move to cover yourself, but no, no, no. Baekhyun won’t have any of that. He gently grabs your wrists and flips you over, settling you down onto your back.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs against your lips, pinning your wrists gently with one hand above your head, “just how perfect you are?” You wriggle underneath him self-consciously, but you let him continue. “You’re unreal. I can’t believe just how lucky I am.”
Your skin tastes so sweet as he kisses down your body, his mouth following the path that his hands trace. So much space to mark, to bite. He chooses your collarbone as his first target, sucking a harsh mark into you. You gasp sharply, hips jerking upwards.
“You like that?” he asks, soothing the mark with his tongue. It blooms a satisfying, deep red, and the sight of it fills Baekhyun with possessive need.
“Y-Yes,” you breathe. He lets go of your wrists and ducks his head down to flick his tongue against your nipple, tearing a ragged moan from your lips.
“Fuck.” You look down at him with wide eyes. “That’s– I’m so sensitive there.”
Baekhyun smirks and swirls his tongue around the bud, relishing in your soft cries. He alternates between the two until you’re writhing, hips jerking as if they have a mind of their own, your bottom lip pulled taut between your teeth.
“Please,” you whimper. “More. I need you so bad.”
Hearing you say it, as if the responses of your body weren’t evidence enough, only makes him need you that much more. Makes a sharp sting of desire pulse through his veins. He reaches down and peels off your soaked panties, stifling a groan at the sight of your pussy. “Do you finger yourself?” he asks, dipping his fingers shallowly through your folds. Fuck. His cock twitches in his sweatpants when he feels just how wet you are.
“Sometimes,” you exhale. “I don’t like it as much as just touching myself.”
Slowly, he sinks his middle finger into your tight, wet heat. “Jesus,” he mumbles. “You’re squeezing me.”
Your eyebrows are knit together, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your lips drop open in a surprised, “Oh!” as he continues to go deeper. A quiet, almost imperceptible gasp falls from your mouth when he withdraws and then thrusts it back in.
“Your fingers…” you whisper. “They’re longer than mine.”
He groans softly, leaning up to brush his lips against yours. A thrill runs down his spine and he slips a second finger inside of you, eliciting another sweet whimper from you. “If you’re falling apart like this on my fingers, are you sure you can take my cock, sweetheart?”
You gasp raggedly, hips jerking up into his touch. “I can,” you whisper frantically. “I can, promise.”
He chuckles before nipping your bottom lip. “I know you can, baby. I’m just teasing a little.” He travels lower, sucking a bruise into your inner thigh, urging you to part your legs even more for him. His mouth joins his fingers, lips sealing over your clit as he curls them inside of you.
“Shit!” Your hand flies down to grip at his hair, tugging at the strands. “Baek— Baek, oh god.” Your voice is trembling, already so ruined for him. “I’m getting close.”
His eyes flick up to meet your gaze as he laps at your clit, scissoring his fingers slightly as he tries to search for that one spot. He knows he’s found it when your thighs clamp around his head, a frantic moan spilling from your lips. He presses against it with the pads of his fingers, sucking your clit into his mouth.
Your back bows off the bed, lips falling apart almost as though you’re surprised, eyes widening. “Mmm, baby— baby, I’m cumming… fuck—”
He feels you clamp down around him as your body starts to shake. Baekhyun can’t tear his eyes away from you if he tried, watching your expression break as your orgasm overtakes you. It rolls through you with a choked whisper of his name, voice shattering over the syllables.
It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight fills him with a hunger that can’t be satisfied, won’t be satisfied, until he’s seen it again and again.
He withdraws his fingers from you slowly and brings them to your waiting, parted lips. “Taste how sweet you are,” he murmurs. He halfway doesn’t expect you to, doesn’t plan to keep them there if you hesitate for even a second, almost already pulling them away from you so that he can do it himself.
But you do it, eyes hazy with post-orgasm bliss, chest heaving, your lungs working overtime to get some air. Your tongue swirls around his fingers, licking every drop of yourself clean, taking his fingers down your throat practically to the knuckle. The sight of it—
How can he stop himself from ducking back down between your legs now?
He hooks his arms around your thighs, locking you in place as he buries his face into your heat, lapping against your slick folds like a man starved. You moan, completely uninhibited, hands twisting in his hair in a way that hurts so good. “Baek— Baekhyun, please, please, I’m so sensitive…”
“Please what?” he grunts. “You want me to stop?”
“N-No,” you say weakly.
“Then take it.”
You shudder, cumming instantly on his tongue once again. He holds you tight, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as you roll your hips onto him, practically riding his face.
“I—” you gasp for breath. “Fuck.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans up to pull off his shirt in one smooth motion, taking a second to admire you once again. Your cheeks and chest are flushed, blooming with red, lips dark and kiss-swollen, eyes unfocused. You reach up for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his thighs. His cock is leaking and achingly hard, and you look at it with anticipation.
“Are you nervous?” he asks, hovering down over you, settling in between your legs.
“A little.” Your hands settle on his shoulders, eyes meeting his. Open, trusting. “But I still want this more than anything.”
He connects his lips with yours as he starts to sink inside of you, slow, inch by devastating inch. You’re so tight, so wet that it makes him tremble, holding himself back from snapping his hips into you and ruining you. You wrap around him so perfectly that you must have been fucking made for him. He watches your face for every sign of discomfort, every minute change in your expression. “Breathe, baby,” he groans. “Fuck, relax a little more for me.”
“Trying,” you say through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby you’re so—”
He meets your gaze when your voice falters. “So… big,” you whisper.
Something in Baekhyun, something deep and primal, snaps. “Oh my God,” he all but growls, burying his head into the crook of your neck, gripping the sheets by your head to try and regain some control, some sanity, back. “Don’t say shit like that if you don’t want me to fuckin’ pound into you until you’re screaming.”
You gasp, impossibly becoming even tighter. And then…
“Who said I didn’t?”
Baekhyun buries himself the rest of the way inside of you, holding his hips flush against yours, letting you get used to the stretch for a moment. “Tell me if you need me to stop.” That’s all the warning you get before he withdraws and snaps his hips back into you, not unnecessarily harsh but strong, deep. And then again, and again.
Your head lolls back as Baekhyun grabs your waist, holding you steady as he builds up a steady rhythm. You cling to the sheets like a lifeline, twisting the fabric underneath your fingers. Your voice, which was controlled before, grows louder and louder as your moans get fucked out of you, high-pitched cries that grow needier by the second.
“Holy fuck,” you whimper, voice shaking. Broken, shattered.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending down to brush his lips against yours. “Tell me how good it feels.”
“So good,” you sob, struggling to get your words out. “Baby, ‘m close, please.”
Your begging, those sweet little sobs, only stoke that fire deep inside that much more. He wants to push you just a little, see how much you can squirm. “Hold it a little longer.”
“What?” your eyes fly open, frantic. “B-But I…”
“Just a little bit, sweetheart. Until I say.” He drives into you a little harder, sucking another bruise into your neck, swallowing your needy cries.
“Baek, mm, please!” Your eyes are brimming with tears, back arching entirely into him, as if pressing yourself against him will help you get what you want. “I-I can’t hold it, I need to cum!”
“Don’t make me stop,” he warns. “You gonna be good for me?”
Even though your orgasm threatens to spill over at any second, you still nod, tucking your quivering bottom lip in between your teeth. You’re so far gone, in too deep that all you can do is beg. “Mmm, please, please—!” you wail.
He reaches in between your legs and presses his thumb against your clit. “Cum for me,” he whispers in your ear, breath hot against your neck.
Your entire body quakes, nails digging into his shoulders as you cum, exponentially harder than you had the previous times. Tears, maybe from relief, maybe from overstimulation, slip from your eyes and leave shiny trails down your cheeks, your voice catching on a sob. He holds you through it, clenching his jaw at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, slickness pooling in between both of your bodies, rubbing circles into your side both to soothe you and to ground him against the overwhelming urge to spill inside of you again and again until you’re both spent.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, making a trail with his lips from your earlobe down to your chin. “You did so well.”
He starts to move again, hands roaming as he builds up another rhythm, squeezing your tits and your hips, guiding you to wrap your legs around him. You shiver underneath him, moaning softly, twitching from overstimulation and sensitivity. Hair sticks to your forehead and clings to your neck, damp with sweat. Your expression is broken wide open, gaze clinging to him like he’s your entire world, only making incoherent whimpers and gasps of his name.
“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers. He cups your chin in his hand and kisses you deeply. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Your legs wrap tighter around him, drawing him impossibly closer. “I– I wanna feel you cum in me.”
Baekhyun groans, a sharp sound, as though it’s been punched out of him. As soon as the possibility enters his mind, the need to do it, to mark you, claim you, is overwhelming. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Your eyes are sparkling, bright, as focused as they’ve ever been. “Cum in me, make me yours. Fill me up.”
With a final, low grunt, he pounds into you, the full force of his strength and weight behind each thrust until he cums, filling you up to the very brim. Your greedy walls suck him in, milking him for every last drop until his arms are shaking from supporting his weight. Exhausted, he collapses on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your skin.
For a few moments, there’s just silence. And then, you shift.
“You love me?”
Baekhyun looks up at you to find that you’re gazing at him earnestly, no longer clouded by lust or primal need.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Wasn’t it obvious?”
You giggle. “Maybe. But it’s still nice to hear you say it.”
“I love you,” he says, smacking a kiss against your collarbone. “I love you,” your nose, “I love you,” finally on your lips.
“I love you too,” you say. When he shifts inside of you, you wince. “Fuck, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”
“Hopefully not sore enough to go again,” he quips, dodging your smack.
“You’re sick,” you joke. “Go get something to clean us up.”
You don’t even know the half of it, he thinks, rolling over to grab some tissues. But from the way you eye him, dragging your gaze down the length of his body with thinly veiled want, already no doubt thinking about the possibilities of what tomorrow (fuck, who is he kidding, later tonight) will bring… Yeah. He thinks that maybe you do.
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sleep wears around the edges of baekhyun's eyes, nearly pulling his lids shut. he stifles a yawn against the back of his hand, mindlessly tapping through the various apps on his phone as the seconds tick down. watching, waiting. the hotel mattress underneath him is soft, practically pulling him down into the slumber that awaits him, and his body so badly wants to give in. exhaustion has been his best friend lately, clinging to him from city to city, and all he wants to do at the end of each day is to fall unceremoniously into sleep for as long as his schedule allows.
but he won't tonight.
not until.
the clock strikes midnight and his phone rings not a second later. he laughs to himself as he picks up. 'helloo?' he singsongs into the receiver, as if he isn't aware of why exactly he's receiving this call.
'happy birthday!' your voice is soft, gentle, as if even though you're so many miles away, you know how tired he is and you don't want to disturb him with any loud cheering.
'thank you, baby.' he yawns again, turning over onto his side. 'you were first again. as you always are'
'yes,' you cheer. he can picture you pumping your fist in the air and he chuckles. 'what do you have on the agenda tomorrow?'
'meetings all day. i wish i was home with you.'
'i wish you were here too, baek. can you do me a favor?'
'right now?' he whines. 'i'm so tired and it's my birthday.'
'please?'
he sighs, a faint small on his lips. 'okay, sure. anything.'
'can you open the door for me?'
his eyes fly open as he sits up straight. 'are you serious?'
you giggle. the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. 'why don't you find out?'
even though minutes ago it seemed like the most impossible thing in the world, he easily leaps out of bed and runs to the door. you stand on the other side, holding your phone up to your ear with one hand, a small cupcake in the other.
'happy birth–'
he cuts you off by wrapping his arms around you, pressing you against him. you're here, and your hair smells like the shampoo you share at home, and you're wearing his hoodie, and you're beautiful and wonderful and everything that makes baekhyun's heart skip a beat. he knows better than anyone that the flight was long, tiring, and you made that journey just to see him even though he probably won't even be able to spend that much time with you... relief and gratitude suddenly fills him, emotion rising in his throat.
'baby?' you say softly. 'are you...?'
he is.
he pulls away and quickly wipes away the tear that's fallen and takes a shaky breath. 'sorry. i'm just... i'm so happy you're here.'
you don't push - you know how hard it's been for him lately. you smile at him and press a kiss to the corner of his lips, one that he chases to kiss you properly. 'i canceled all your plans tomorrow with your manager,' you say in between kisses. 'we can do whatever you want.'
even more gratitude floods baekhyun's chest and he's able to push down another fresh wave of tears before parting from you. 'can we do nothing? i know you came all this way but i'm just so–'
you cut him off with another chaste peck. 'doing nothing sounds perfect. now come on. you can't eat this cupcake if you're crying.'
he laughs, scooching over to let you through the door. 'i didn't cry. it was the lighting, made my eyes look wet.'
'mmhmm,' you hum. 'suuure byun.'
the door clicks shut behind you, sealing the two of you off from the rest of the world, safe in your little haven for the near future.
gosh i'm so senti. happy 34th angel, please be happy and healthy always <3
