pairing: step-brother!lee minho x stepsister!reader
summary: his room is thirty feet away from yours. your parents are asleep down the hall, and minho has just stepped over the creakiest floorboard in the house to prove a point: that you are entirely, hopelessly at his mercy.
genre: dark romance, step siblings dynamic, explicit contents, psychological angst
a/n: first fic on my new writing acc, im not too happy with it but wtv i wanted to post something atleast, pls like, reblog, comment if you even liked it the slightest bit it would be very appreciated and make me motivated to keep posting!
request: yes/no
the floorboards in the upstairs hallway have a specific, agonizing language.
you’ve memorized every creak over the last three years, ever since your mother’s luggage settled permanently into the master bedroom at the end of the corridor. there is the dull, heavy groan right outside the bathroom; the sharp, sudden click near the top of the stairs; and the soft, hollow sigh of the wood exactly three inches from your bedroom door.
it is 2:14 am. the house is dead, save for the hum of the central heating and the distant, rhythmic rise and fall of your mother and his father’s voices through the plaster walls. they are talking about drywall estimates, they are laughing, they are entirely oblivious to the quiet violence unfolding thirty feet away.
"you're breathing too loud," minho murmurs.
his voice is a dry, raspy scrape against your ear, barely louder than the rustle of the heavy duvet. he’s leaning over you, one knee anchored on the mattress right between your thighs, pinning your sweat-damp cotton shorts flat against the sheets. the scent of him — cold air from his open window, expensive cologne, and the sharp, metallic tang of mint gum fills your nose, crowding out the safety of your own room.
"minho, please," you breathe, the words catching in your throat as his long fingers slide up your thigh. his touch is not gentle. he digs his thumb into the sensitive inner flesh of your hip, hard enough to leave a yellowing shadow of a bruise tomorrow. "they’re right next door. the door isn't even locked."
"then i suggest you keep your pretty mouth shut," he whispers. a slow, sharp smile curls up at the corner of his lips in the dark, visible only when the headlights of a passing car sweep across your ceiling. "or don't. let's see what your mom says when she walks in and finds her perfect little angel pinned to my bed like a butterfly. do you think she'd blame me? or do you think she'd look at you and finally see what a desperate, dirty little whore you are?"
your chest heaves. the heat between your thighs is already thick, a heavy, aching weight that he created and now holds hostage.
he knows exactly what he’s doing. he knows that the threat of ruin is the only thing that keeps you this still, this pliable under his hands. he’s been leveraging it for months—ever since he caught you looking a fraction of a second too long at his mouth over the dinner table, ever since he realized that the "step-sibling" label didn't make you look away; it made you blush.
"i'm not," you whisper, your voice trembling. "i'm not dirty."
"no?" he lets out a quiet, mocking huff of laughter, his breath hot against your collarbone. his fingers trail lower, hooking into the elastic of your underwear, pulling it down just enough to expose the slick, swollen heat of you to the cold air of the room. "then why are you already soaking through these? why are you begging me to touch you in the dark while our parents are talking about us downstairs? you're disgusting, sweetheart. you're a little addict."
he doesn't wait for your response. he slides two fingers down, hard and sudden, right over your hypersensitive center.
you choke on a gasp, your hips arching off the mattress instinctively. minho’s free hand instantly clamps over your mouth, his palm heavy and unyielding, pressing your head back into the pillow. his fingers smear your sweat across your cheek, his thumb catching your lower lip and forcing it between your teeth.
"i told you," he growls, his dark eyes glittering with a cold, teasing cruelty. "quiet. if you make another sound, i'll walk out of this room right now and leave you like this. wet, miserable, and empty."
the threat is real, and it makes your blood run hot and cold all at once. minho has done it before. he has left you trembling on the edge of a cliff, your body aching for release, while he calmly went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, leaving you to clean up his mess alone.
he begins to move his fingers. it’s rough, deliberately uncoordinated, his knuckles rubbing hard against your clit with a ruthless, blunt pressure that sends a jagged spike of white-hot pleasure straight to your lower stomach. you thrum against him, your fingers clawing at the sheets, trying to find purchase as he overstimulates the delicate tissue without mercy.
"look at me," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, thick and demanding.
you force your eyes open, your vision blurred with unshed tears. in the dim light, his face is a mask of sharp angles and dark, predatory focus. he isn't smiling anymore; he looks at you with a heavy, possessive hunger that makes you feel entirely consumed.
"you don't get to come," he whispers against your wet lips, his teeth grazing your jawline. "not tonight. you don't deserve it. you've been bad all week. pretending you don't know me when we're downstairs. acting like you're so clean."
he pushes two of his fingers inside you, deep and fast, his thumb staying anchored on your clit, grinding down with an agonizing, relentless rhythm. the contrast of the slick, hot friction inside and the harsh, bruising pressure outside is too much. your thighs twitch, your toes curling as the tension in your lower abdomen tightens into a hard, coiled spring.
you're so close. the edge is right there, a brilliant, terrifying dropoff.
"m-minho—" you try to sob against his palm, your hips rolling helplessly, trying to chase the friction, trying to force his hand to give you what you need.
"no," he sneers, his fingers instantly going completely still inside you, hooking hook-like against your walls, trapping you in the worst kind of suspension. he presses his thumb hard against your clit, not moving it, just holding the agonizing pressure right on the nerve ending until you're shaking, your breath coming in ragged, shallow hiccups. "stop moving. did i tell you to move?"
your eyes plead with him, wide and dark with desperation. your whole body is vibrating, overstimulated to the point of physical pain. every nerve ending is screaming, raw and exposed.
"ask me," he whispers, his lips brushing your ear, his voice a dark, teasing caress. "beg me to let you. tell me how much you need your brother to ruin you."
"please," you whine, a tear slipping down your temple into your hair. "please, minho... let me. i'll be quiet. i promise."
"say the words," he demands, his fingers twitching inside you, just enough to make you gasp, to make the ache flare up again. "tell me what you are."
"i'm-i'm yours," you sob out, the confession tasting like copper and shame on your tongue. "your dirty little secret. please, minho..."
he stares down at you for a long, agonizing second, letting the weight of your submission settle between you. his chest rises and falls against yours, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm that betrays his own control.
"good," he whispers, his voice suddenly thick, a dark promise settling in the air.
but instead of moving his hand to give you release, he leans down, his mouth catching yours in a bruising, rough kiss that tastes of mint and quiet desperation, while his fingers remain perfectly, agonizingly still.
his tongue slips past your lips, deep and demanding, claiming your mouth with the same ruthless authority he holds over your body. you try to melt into it, desperate for any sensation that might distract you from the agonizing throb between your thighs. but minho doesn't give you that mercy. he pulls back just enough to break the seal of your lips, a thin string of saliva snapping between you in the dark.
his eyes are fixed on yours, cold and critical. "you’re so pathetic. look at you, practically vibrating. if i let you go right now, you’d ruin these sheets in seconds, wouldn’t you?"
you can only nod, a pathetic, tight nod of your head against the pillow. the weight of his fingers inside you is literal torture; they are slick with your own arousal, acting like a stopper to a bottle that is ready to burst. your pelvic muscles twitch, clamping down on his fingers involuntarily.
minho’s eyes darken. he slaps his hand down against the soft skin of your inner thigh, a sharp, loud crack that echoes in the quiet bedroom.
you flinch, a quiet sob dying in your throat.
"did i say you could squeeze me?" he asks, his voice dangerously low. "keep those pretty muscles still. if you clamp down on me again, i will pull out and leave you to ache until morning. do you understand me?"
"yes," you choke out, your voice barely a thread. "yes, minho. i'm sorry."
"good girl," he mocks, using the term with a sneering affection that sends a strange, dizzying rush of humiliation and desire through your veins. "now. let's see how much you can handle."
he slowly drags his fingers out, leaving you empty and cold, but before you can even catch your breath, he shifts. he grabs your ankles, pushing your legs back until your knees are practically pinned to your ears, folding you completely. you’re laid bare in the dark, vulnerable and open to whatever cruel whim he desires.
minho leans down, his gaze scanning the wet, glistening folds of your heat. his mouth twists into a dark, satisfied smirk. slowly, he dips his head, his hot breath brushing over your hypersensitive clit, making you spasm violently before he even touches you.
"so wet," he murmurs, his tone dripping with mockery. "look how wide open you are. you're practically dripping onto the mattress. let's clean you up a bit, hm?"
without warning, he presses his tongue directly against your swollen bundle of nerves.
the sensation is so sharp, so violently intense, that your whole body jolts. you try to scream, but minho’s hand is already back on your mouth, smothering the sound into a pathetic, muffled squeal. his tongue lap is heavy, rough, and mocking. he swirls his tongue around your clit with an agonizing pressure, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and biting lightly with his teeth.
you are thrashing against him, your hips rolling frantically against his face, completely overwhelmed. the sheer intensity of his wet tongue combined with the heavy pressure of his mouth makes you feel like your veins are on fire. you’re sobbing into his palm, tears streaming freely down your face as he eats you out with a brutal, relentless hunger, completely ignoring your silent pleas for him to stop, to slow down.
he pulls back abruptly with a tacky sound of his mouth leaving your skin echoing in the dark. his lips are wet and shiny with your juices.
"look at me," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, thick and demanding.
you force your eyes open, your vision blurred with unshed tears. in the dim light, his face is a mask of sharp angles and dark, predatory focus. he isn't smiling anymore; he looks at you with a heavy, possessive hunger that makes you feel entirely consumed.
he reaches for the hem of his grey sweatpants. you watch through half-lidded, feverish eyes as he shoves them down, freeing the heavy, thick length of him. he is fully hard, the dark veins tracing along his shaft standing out in the faint, shadowy light. he looks impossibly large in the dark, a looming threat of complete stretching and ruin.
he doesn't use a condom. he never does when he wants to punish you. he likes the raw, wet heat of skin against skin; he likes knowing that he is leaving himself inside you, a physical mark of his corruption that you’ll have to wash away in the shower while trying not to make a sound.
minho shifts his weight, the blunt, heavy tip of his length pressing directly against your dripping, overstimulated hole.
"minho," you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "please, it's too much—"
"it's exactly what you want," he whispers, his lips pressing against your temple, his breath hitching slightly as he feels just how hot and wet you are. "you're practically begging for it. open wider."
he nudges your knees further apart with his thighs, forcing your hips to tilt upward. he doesn't ease himself in. with a sudden, heavy thrust, he drives his hips forward, burying himself inside your cunt in one blunt, unyielding motion.
the sheer stretch of him makes your eyes wide. you stretch to accommodate him, the tightness of your body clamping down on him like a vise. a high, sharp whine escapes your throat, but minho is already there, his hand slamming over your mouth to smother the sound.
"hush," he growls, his own eyes closing for a brief second as his jaw tightens. he holds himself perfectly still inside you, letting you feel every single inch of his thick, throbbing cock stretching you to your absolute limit. "f-fuck, you're so tight. are you trying to choke me? relax."
you try to breathe, your chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow jerks against his. his weight is heavy, crushing you into the mattress, making you feel completely small and consumed. the sheer volume of sensation is overwhelming; the rough slap of his skin against yours, the heat of his palm over your mouth, the agonizing stretch of him inside you, and the constant, terrifying knowledge that your mother is asleep just thirty feet away.
"if you make a sound," he whispers, his eyes opening, dark and cruel, "i'll push you harder. i'll make you scream, and we'll see who comes through that door first."
he begins to move.
it's a slow, agonizing deep rhythm. he pulls almost entirely out, letting the sensitive head of his cock drag over the wet, swollen entrance of your cunt, before driving back in with a heavy, deliberate thrust that bottoms out against your cervix. each thrust is a blunt shockwave of pleasure that makes your mind go completely white. you are so overstimulated that even the sliding friction of his shaft feels too much like a sweet, agonizing torment that makes your thighs shake.
you try to tilt your hips, trying to find a rhythm, but minho pinches your hip bone, his fingers digging deep into the skin.
"i told you to stay still," he whispers, his voice tight with his own mounting pleasure. "i do the moving. you just take it."
he increases the pace, the slow, deep thrusts turning into a faster, rougher pounding. the wet, sticky sound of your bodies slapping together is incredibly loud in the quiet room. each friction filled stroke makes your toes curl into the sheets. you are clawing at his back now, your nails digging through his shirt, your hips lifting off the bed involuntarily as the tension in your lower stomach tightens into a hard, screaming knot.
you are right on the edge of a shattering, violent orgasm. your walls are contracting around him, milking him desperately.
"m-minho," you sob against his palm, your eyes wide and wild with a desperate plea. "please... let me come. please, i can't—it hurts, please—"
"no," he grunts, his own breathing heavy and ragged now, his forehead resting against yours. "i told you... no. you don't get to come until i say so."
with a cruel, calculated precision, he pulls his hips back, completely removing himself from your wet, aching cunt.
the sudden emptiness is a physical shock. you let out a broken, pathetic cry, your hips rolling on the empty air, trying to chase the phantom sensation of him. you are dripping, completely exposed, your body trembling with a desperate, unfulfilled need that feels like a physical sickness.
"look at you," minho sneers, his chest heaving as he hovers over you. he looks down at your wet, flushed thighs, at the slick trail of your arousal glistening on his own length. "a complete mess. you look so cheap like this, begging your stepbrother to ruin you in the dark."
he reaches down, his fingers catching your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his thumb presses hard against your bottom lip, dragging it down.
"do you want it?" he asks, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "tell me how much you want it."
"i want it," you sob, the tears finally spilling over your eyelashes, wetting his fingers. "please, minho. i'll do anything. please."
"say 'please, brother, ride me until i'm ruined,'" he whispers, his eyes glittering with a dark, twisted amusement.
the words are a heavy, toxic weight in your throat, but you are too far gone, too thoroughly broken by the overstimulation and the denial to care.
"p-please," you whimper, your voice trembling with shame. "please, brother... ride me until i'm ruined."
a dark, victorious smile spreads across minho’s face. "such a good girl," he purrs, the praise tasting like sweet poison.
he doesn't hesitate. he grabs your knees, pulling them all the way up to your chest, exposing your dripping cunt completely. he aligns himself and drives back in with a fierce, punishing speed.
the depth is unbelievable. he is hitting you so deep, so hard, that your entire body slides up the bed with each heavy thrust. his hand is back over your mouth, clamping down with a bruising force as he pounds into you without mercy. the wet, slapping sounds of his hips hitting your ass are deafening to your ears, a rhythmic, dirty soundtrack to your undoing.
you are completely lost to the sensation. your mind is gone, reduced to nothing but the hot, thick stretch of him filling you over and over, the hard friction against your clit with every thrust, and the crushing weight of his body. you are shaking, your muscles twitching, your eyes rolled back as the pleasure becomes too sharp, too intense to bear.
"now," minho groans, his voice breaking as his own control finally shatters. his thrusts become frantic, messy, and desperate. he buries his face in your neck, his teeth biting down hard on the sensitive skin right above your collarbone, leaving a deep, dark mark that you know will take weeks to fade. "come for me. keep it quiet."
the moment his teeth sink into your skin, the dam breaks.
a violent, shattering orgasm rips through your body. your walls clamp down on him in a series of tight, spasming contractions, milking him with an intense, agonizing grip. you shake violently under him, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, choked scream tearing from your throat, completely swallowed by his heavy palm.
the sheer intensity of the overstimulation makes you sob, your body twitching as you come hard, the pleasure so sharp it feels almost like pain.
hearing your muffled cries and feeling the tight, pulsing grip of your climax is what finally pushes minho over the edge. with a low, guttural groan that is entirely unrefined, he drives himself as deep inside you as he can go, pinning you flat against the bed, and releases.
you can feel the hot, thick waves of his seed pulsing deep inside your cunt, filling you up, a warm, heavy weight that contrasts with the cool air of the room. he holds himself deep inside you, his body twitching as he spends himself, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to catch his breath.
for a long, quiet minute, the only sound in the room is the ragged, wet rustle of your breathing.
slowly, minho pulls his hand away from your mouth. his palm is wet with your saliva and tears. he looks down at you, his face softening just a fraction, though his eyes remain dark and possessive. he reaches up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your sweaty forehead.
"look at you," he whispers, his voice returning to that quiet, teasing purr. "you're a complete ruin."
he slowly pulls out of you, the wet, suctioned sound making you shiver. a thick, warm mixture of his seed and your own slick spills out of you, wetting the sheets beneath your hips. minho doesn't offer to help you clean up. he simply pulls his sweatpants back up, his eyes lingering on the dark, angry bite mark on your neck.
"make sure you cover that up tomorrow," he murmurs, a slow, cruel smirk playing on his lips as he steps off the bed. "it'd be a shame if your mother asked how you got it."
without another word, he turns and walks toward the door. he steps over the creaky floorboards with practiced ease, opening your door just wide enough to slip through, leaving you alone in the dark, cold room, shaking, wet, and entirely his.
an early birthday gift for @kloversung and a late gift for @b4echo my angels ilysm!!
scan here for group masterlist → 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 ˎˊ˗
Best friend!Jisung Who you first met in freshmen orientation in high school, moving from a different part of the city, new school, new area — you pitied him, that's not why you befriended him, you befriended him because he was so shy it was cute — and you saw his phone background and it so happened to be your favourite anime.
Best friend!Jisung Who when you approached him was awkward as hell — you found it adorable, taking an immediate liking to the anxious boy, greeting him with a smile, reminding him that you're all new here and hes only an outsider if he makes himself one.
Best friend!Jisung Who you essentially grew up with, going through all the weird, awkward high school phases, when you both found different groups you always stayed close, nothing ever pulling you apart.
Best friend!Jisung Who everyone was shocked when they found out was your best friend, not because you're popular per say, just very outgoing while he was the opposite, both of you bringing the best out of each other.
Best friend!Jisung Who watched from afar as you make new friends, go on dates — not that he was possessive, no he just didn't want to lose you. You knew him better though, the subtle mood shift he blamed to school. Eventually he reluctantly, with red ears told you he didn't want to lose you — which was ridiculous in your mind, not because his feelings were, but because nobody could ever come close to him in your heart — but he didn't need to know that yet.
Best friend!Jisung who graduated with you — immediately telling you when he got valedictorian, who instantly ran to you as he got off stage, hugging you back tightly when you effectively jumped into his arms.
Best friend!Jisung Who made sure you applied to the same colleges as he did, and when you told him that you wouldnt be accepted into the best ones like he would, he scoffed like you offended him.
Best friend!Jisung Who never told you that the top school accepted him, because he was already set on going to the same school as you.
Best friend!Jisung Who made sure to help you move into your freshmen dorm, even if he wast the strongest, he made sure you barely lifted a finger, even helping you decorate your half of the dorm.
Best friend!Jisung Who lived off campus, rooming with Chan and Minho, a high school friend and a guy he met randomly in a class, much to your envy. Being stuck with an awful dorm mate who kept bringing boys back at odd hours.
Best friend!Jisung Who gave you a spare key to his place as soon as he moved in, even making room in his closet for your stuff, as if you even wear it when your over — stealing his clothes as soon as you step into the apartment.
Best friend!Jisung Who everyone thought was your boyfriend, even your other friends had their suspicions but you both heavily insisted it wasn't romantic.
Best friend!Jisung Who was hot, undeniably. Growing into his broad shoulders, learning how to dress, style his hair with little effort, his personality sweet and kind — willingly to apologise to a plant if he bumped into it.
Best friend!Jisung Who was absolutely clueless to the women who wanted him, because in his mind the only woman he ever wanted was you, even if it wasn't romantic on your part.
Best friend!Jisung Who when paired with a girl for an assignment was absolutely clueless when she was blatantly flirting with him, assuming it was friendly, even inviting her to a group hang out when she asked him to hang out, outside the project
Best friend!Jisung Who was again clueless when you started ignoring him after he brought her into his apartment for movie night, pouting in your direction, ignoring jabs from Minho about looking like a lost puppy dog.
Best friend!Jisung Who when everyone else leaves immediately folds, begging you to say whats wrong, he genuinely feels like his hearts going to burst from you being mad at him.
Best friend!Jisung Who you cant stay mad at — but also cant contain how you feel, all the years of hiding your feelings for him, every wall shattering at his pathetic state.
Best friend!Jisung Who was floored when you pull him by the collar, your lips crashing into his, only taking a few seconds to kiss back, his lips attacking yours in desperation, trying to express every feeling, every almost confession in one kiss.
Best friend!Jisung Who whined when you pulled back, desperate for air, only giving you a moment before crashing his lips back on yours, his tongue prodding your lips before entering your mouth, moaning into yours.
Best friend!Jisung Whose hands never left you, tangling in your hair — holding onto your hips, the boy cant stay still, needing to hold all of you, and when he finally pulls back its with the biggest grin ever.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who nobody was shocked when you told them you started dating — hell even your parents weren't surprised, simply going, finally.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who somehow treated you better when dating, not as if he didn't treat you amazingly when friends, but now he can do so without worrying about crossing a line.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who absolutely was obsessed with you — his love language being touch was apparent, his hands always on you, whether it was his hand linked with yours, his head on your shoulder, or if you arent in the mood for pda, his finger linked through your belt loop or linking his pinky with yours.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who learnt to tell when girls were interested in him, though they quickly backed off considering how often he talks about you, every other conversation he has, he mentions you.
Boyfriend!Jisung Whose nerdy side only makes him even more adorable, insisting on couple costumes and cosplays, calling you his player two ironically of course.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who was the most perfect and caring boyfriend, in and out of the bedroom.
NSFW AHEAD
Boyfriend!Jisung Who if you thought was obsessed with you outside of sex — was insatiable with you. Constantly begging for you — whether its for you to touch him or for him to touch you.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who genuinely would rather spend hours between your legs than head, a munch through and through, he loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue, squirming around as he licks you through your orgasm and into another one.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who cant stay still as we know, so you're always in different positions — switching from him being between your legs, to you sitting on his face.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who loves using toys on you, his favourite is this pretty purple vibrator, whenever you're being a tease he puts it on the lowest setting, keeping your hands tied up and his hands on your hips so you cant buck up into it.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who only lets you cum again when you're begging for him, even then he teases you about it.
"What — you think i should let you? After how mean you were to me, thought you were all independent, angel?"
Boyfriend!Jisung Who despite his teasing will always let you cum, over and over again. Only removing himself from between your legs when you're begging for more.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who always cums untouched between your legs, the small patch of his cum staining the mattress making him shy away and whimper.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who turns to absolute putty when you take charge, mocking him endlessly.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who whimpers, even when in charge he whimpers, hes so desperate and pathetically in love with you, he just cant.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who cums again within seconds of you putting your hands on his half hard cock, his tip glistening from his previous orgasm, a shade of red that would be so pretty on your nails but that's for another time.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who when you take him into your mouth, bucks into it unintentionally, a string of apologies spewing out as his hands lace into your hair, holding your head in place as he apologies but his hips rut up into your mouth, taking all of him at once.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who manhandles you beneath him, panting and catching his breath, mumbling incoherently under his breath.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who is whimpering as he pushes into you, trying his best not to bust the second you clench around him.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who deadass starts thinking of some mathematical equations to not cum instantly, recounting the digits of pi as he bottoms out inside you.
Boyfriend!Jisung Whose thrusts are shallow and desperate, the feeling of your tight cunt taking him is too much, mixed with the sweet moans escaping from your throat.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who always makes sure you cum first, putting you first and needing the feeling of you cumming around his cock — the way your pussy flutters around him — hes addicted to it.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who kisses you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing mess and sloppy, moaning into your mouth, his orgasm coming right after yours.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who mumbles sweet praises into your mouth, as you ride out the waves of pleasure, slowly stopping to make sure you're okay, pulling out gently, kissing away all the tears you shed.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who rubbed soft circles onto your hip as he kisses over your body, not wanting to pull away from you.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who reluctantly pulls back, quickly grabbing you a snack and water and a cloth to clean you up. Making sure you drink the water as he cleans up the mess between your legs.
Boyfriend!Jisung Who puts on your comfort show, even if he has no idea what the plot is and you have to explain every character relationship and plot, enduring his constant, wait what happened?
Boyfriend!Jisung Who only falls asleep after you do, not wanting you to stay awake without him, needing to make sure you're okay, only after you're snoring away, kissing your temple before turning off the TV, keeping you close to him before drifting off to sleep holding you.
synopsis: jisung is obsessed. you’re so perfect, so pretty—how could anyone blame him? he’s so certain that you’ve been used before, that you’ve been taken care of. that being said, you can only imagine the surprise he was in once he’s found out no one’s ever showed you what bliss feels like.
pairing: perv!sung x inexperienced f!reader
genre: smut, college au
contains: jisung being kinda gross + incredibly horny, soft dom!jisung, lots of kissing, biting, oral fixation, tit play, oral sex (f!receiving), pet names (baby, jagi, rockstar), coming untouched
word count: 6.3k
now playing: southbound - artemis
[a/n]: i LOVE this fic sm you don’t even understaaaand. alsooo i got a request a few days ago for dom!jisung, and i know this isn’t hard dom ji BUT that is coming soon, and i hope this is enough to satiate you while i get it done !! enjoy :D
jisung doesn’t remember the last the he’s listed so intently to someone talk.
honestly, jisung’s never really been one to actively listen, but fuck- there was just something about the way your lips move around each spoken word that makes it so ungodly difficult to pay attention to anything else.
it doesn’t help that he’s had his eyes on you for longer than he could remember. ever since the first day you strolled into to his music theory class at the start of the semester, jisung has been, for lack of better words,dying to get his hands on you.
there’s just this… itch whenever he’s around you. it’s bone deep, too far below the skin to be satisfied easily. you’re just so perfect— kind, funny without even trying. and don’t even get him started on how good you are in the recording studio. jisung didn’t even know he could get turned on from watching someone mix a beat. but hey, they say college is where you learn things, right?
and trust, jisung has learned a lot.
for example: jisung has learned that he’s a dirty fucking perv.
an example of the example: there have been numerous times when you’ve been ranting about how bullshit your biased professor is—how he never grades your work fairly no matter how hard you work on it—and jisung will sit there wondering if your as expressive in bed as you are here.
he hopes you are. god, he would lose his mind…
speaking of you in bed, jisung has thought of you with his hand down his pants more often than anyone would constitute as normal. but honestly, can you even blame him?
you laugh at his jokes with a smile that makes his chest tight, and you somehow manage to smell like vanilla and something sweeter every single time you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop screen.
it's honestly a miracle he hasn't combusted yet.
well, he has. many times, actually. but you get what he means.
but today? today is different.
today you're sitting cross-legged on his bed (his bed, jesus christ), textbook open in your lap as you complain about your latest assignment, and jisung is trying his absolute hardest to focus on his own textbook.
try as he might, all he can think about is how easy it would be to close the distance between you two. how easy it would be to kiss you, to make you let out pretty little noises, to force his cock down your throat and—
“hey ji,” you say suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. he sends a quick thank you to whatever higher being there may be that you hadn’t caught his staring. “can i talk to you about something?”
jisung looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with a grin as if he hadn’t just been picturing the 69 different ways (pun intended) he could get you to take him. “sure.”
he watches as you take a deep breath, clearly debating on following through on whatever subject was on your mind. when another second ticked by without a response he arched a brow, fixing you with a look in hopes it would push you to hurry up.
you see it and promptly stick your tongue out at him. you both smile. you let out another exhale.
"i, uh…" you start, and jisung notices the way your cheeks flush slightly. "i went on a date last night. it was nothing like, crazy, yknow? just something a friend of mind set up."
oh.
jisung's stomach drops.
awesome.
"oh yeah?" he manages, keeping his voice in a careful neutral even though he feels like he's been kicked in the chest by some fuckass kangaroo. “and how’d that go?"
does he actually care? hell no. is he trying to be a good friend? sure, keyword there being trying.
you fidget with the corner of your textbook. "it was… fine, i guess? he was nice enough. we got dinner, talked for a bit." you pause, and jisung watches as your blush deepens. "and then we, you know… went back to his place."
jisung's grip on his pen tightens. he's not sure he wants to hear this, but he can't exactly tell you to stop now.
"and?" he prompts, hating how strained his voice sounds.
you let out a frustrated sigh. "and it was… underwhelming? like, really underwhelming." you're not looking at him now, focused instead on picking at a loose thread on his comforter. "we fooled around a bit, and he seemed really into it, but i just… i don't know. i didn't feel much of anything."
"what do you mean?" he's not sure if the relief flooding through him makes him a terrible person or not. his vote is no.
"i mean…" you trail off, clearly embarrassed. "he tried, like, touching me and stuff. it just felt… weird? not bad, just- nothing special, i guess. and then when things got more intense, i just kind of laid there thinking about my grocery list."
despite everything, jisung lets out a laugh. it’s short, cut off by the glare you shot his way.
"and the worst part," you continue, voice getting quieter, "is that he finished and then just… rolled over and fell asleep. didn't even care if i, you know…" you let make a vague gesture with your hand to make up for your lack of words.
"if you came?" jisung supplies, watching you nod a moment later.
"yeah. that." you finally look up at him. "is it supposed to be like that? because if so, i really don't get what all the hype is about."
jisung feels something twist in his chest—something between anger at the asshole who couldn't be bothered to take care of you and a dangerous, selfish hope. "no," he says, and his voice comes out a little sharper than he intended. "it's definitely not supposed to be like that."
"really?" you raise a brow, tone unamused and doubtful.
"really," jisung confirms, and before he can stop himself, he adds, "if a guy can't even make sure you finish, he doesn't deserve to touch you in the first place."
you laugh, but it's a hollow sound. "i mean, i don't know if i'd even know the difference." you shrug, trying to play it off casually even though jisung can see the genuine frustration in your eyes. "it's not like i've ever… y’know. gotten off before."
a beat passes.
jisung blinks. "wait, what?"
"yeah," you say, picking at the thread again. "not from someone else, not from myself. nothing."
"but—" jisung stops himself, trying to process this information. "didn't you have a boyfriend in high school?"
"yeah, for like a year and a half," you confirm. "but that doesn't mean i came. we fooled around, sure, but it never really… went anywhere for me."
jisung feels like his brain is short-circuiting. you—perfect, beautiful you—have never experienced an orgasm? it seems almost criminal.
"i think maybe i'm just not built for it," you continue, voice small. "like, maybe i'm just… glitched or something. everyone talks about how amazing it is, but i just don't get it."
"you're not glitched," jisung says immediately, more forceful than necessary. you look up at him, surprised. "trust me, you're not. you just… haven't been with anyone who knows what they're doing."
"maybe," you say, though you don't sound convinced.
jisung swallows hard.
his heart is pounding, and he knows what he's about to say is probably crossing a line, but he can't seem to stop himself. "if you want a second opinion…" he starts, trying to keep his tone light even though his hands are shaking slightly. "i volunteer as tribute."
the silence that follows is deafening.
you stare at him, eyes wide, and jisung immediately wants to take it back—except he doesn't. not really.
“i-“ you start before choking on your own words. you blink at him a few times, trying to gauge how serious he’s being. “what?”
jisung realizes what hes just said and immediately feels his face heat up.
he holds up his hands in a gesture that's somewhere between defensive and pleading. "i mean- say we’re working in hypotheticals here, yeah?" he says quickly, voice pitching slightly higher than normal. "just, you know, theoretically speaking. if you wanted to figure out what works for you."
you're still staring at him, and jisung can't tell if you're about to laugh in his face or leave. probably both. definitely both.
"i just mean, you said you don't know what you like, right? so maybe—hypothetically—it would help to, i don’t know- explore that?? with someone you trust. who wouldn't be weird about it."
he pauses, then adds, "or weirder than i'm already being right now."
you let out a breath that might've be a laugh, and some of the tension in jisung's shoulders eases. at least you're not running for the door.
"okay," you say slowly, and jisung's heart jumps into his throat. "hypothetically speaking… what would that even look like?"
blood rushes to his dick so fast that he genuinely feel faint for a solid second or two.
this is happening. this is actually happening.
"well, uh," he clears his throat. "i guess first we'd need to figure out what you like. what feels good to you."
"i don't know what i like," you point out. "that's kind of the whole problem here."
"right, but like-" jisung stands, taking a gamble by moving from the floor to sit with you on the bed. he takes the edge, but still manages to get close enough that his knee almost touches yours. he has half the thought of cheering when you don’t immediately jolt away. "there has to be something. like, when you think about… that stuff. what do you think about?"
your blush deepens as you look away. jisung wants to grab you by the cheeks and shove his tongue down your throat.
"i don't know. i guess i don't really think about it much."
"okay, but when you do," jisung presses, far too eager "what's the first thing that comes to mind? is it like… hands? mouths? something else?"
"i- i guess mouths? that’s a stupid way to put it, jisung." your eyes dart over to him for all of two seconds before flicking away again. “i like being kissed. and when people leave marks.”
jisung’s going to bust in his sweats.
he nods slowly, stashing away the information for it’s inevitable later use. "okay. that's good. that's a start." he pauses before asking "what about where? where would you wanna be kissed?"
your head tilts to the side slightly as you debate. it takes a minute for you to make up your mind, a minute that jisung’s spends memorizing the curve of your lips.
“my thighs. i like my neck and my tits, too, but my thighs.”
ok. scratch what he said before. he’s actually going to pass out, wake up for two seconds to jerk off, and then pass out again from how intense it’ll be.
“fuck” he breaths out with a laugh—half breathless humor, half utter strain. jisung raises a hand to run down his face, looking away from you to try and save himself even a little bit.
"okay," he says once he's collected himself enough to form coherent words. "okay, so, hypothetically, if we were doing this, i'd start there. with your thighs." he looks back at you, trying his best to gauge your reaction. "would that be… okay?"
jisung watches the way your eyes skim over him and highly considers throwing himself off the roof of his dorm when your gaze catches on the tent in his sweat pants.
“i like it more when people work their way down.” you meet his eye again and he feels his dick twitch to attention.
jisung's mouth goes dry. the casual way you say it—like you're discussing the weather and not actively trying to kill him—makes his head spin.
"work my way down," he repeats li. "from your neck?"
“my mouth.” you correct.
it takes a few seconds for jisung’s brain to catch up to what you were saying. when ir finally registered, jisung let out a heavy breath.
“y-you want me to kiss you?”
"i mean… yeah?" you say, and there's a hint of uncertainty in your voice. "isn't that where you're supposed to start?"
jisung lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. "yeah, no, you're right. i just-" he stops himself, looking at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. "i just need to know you're actually okay with this. like, seriously okay. because once i start, i don't know if i'll be able to stop."
despite everything making up your current situation, you can’t help the laugh that pushes itself from your lips.
“jesus, sung- please don’t tell me you learned that from a bad porno.”
jisung's face flushes, but he can't help the grin that tugs at his lips. "fuck off," he mutters, but there's no real heat behind it. "i'm trying to be respectful here."
"i know," you say, and your expression softens. "and i appreciate it. but i'm serious, jisung. i want this. hypothetically, of course.”
jisung doesn't waste another second.
he closes the distance between you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other braces against the mattress beside your hip. his thumb brushes along your cheekbone, and for a moment he just looks at you—really looks at you—trying to memorize every detail of your face before he gets what he's been craving for so long.
"tell me to stop if you need to," he murmurs, knowing damn well he won't be able to give this up. not now. not when you're looking at him like that.
he closes the gap completely, pressing his lips to yours.
and god, you're even better than he imagined.
and trust, he's imagined this—fuck, has he imagined this. a thousand times, maybe more. but none of his fantasies come close to the real thing. your mouth is soft and warm, and the little sound you make when he deepens the kiss goes straight to his cock.
you make that sound again—that small, needy noise in the back of your throat—and jisung responds on instinct, tilting your head slightly to get a better angle.
his tongue traces the seam of your lips, and when you open for him, he can't help the groan that escapes. he groans—actually groans—into your mouth, and he'd be embarrassed if he could think straight.
but he can't. because this is intoxicating. you’re intoxicating.
the way you taste, sweet and perfect. the way his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair like they were made to be there. the way his other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely any space left between your bodies and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest.
you've been kissed before, he knows that,but jisung wants to make you forget every single one of those losers you’d had before him. wants this to be the one you remember.
he puts everything into it, every press of his lips deliberate, purposeful, trying to learn exactly what makes you melt against him.
he knows he’s reached some sort of heaven when he feels you starting to go pliant in his hands.
jisung pulls back just enough to catch his breath, resting his forehead against yours. his eyes are dark, blown wide. he can feel how swollen his lips are already.
"fuck," he breathes, voice absolutely wrecked. "you taste so good." he doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s kissing you again, harder than before.
leave it to jisung to get turned on by how sweet your spit tastes.
his hand tightens in your hair—not enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp—and takes full advantage of how your lips part, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes him dizzy with want.
you grab onto his shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric, and jisung feels like he might actually lose his mind.
everything about this is overwhelming in the best possible way—the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you respond when his thumb strokes the sensitive skin at your nape, the little sounds you make as you kiss him back just as eagerly. he wants to catalog every single detail, burn it into his memory so it’s humanly impossible to forget.
his hand on your waist starts to wander, sliding down to your hip and squeezing. it isn’t a rough gesture, more so just to ground himself, to remind himself that this is all real. that this isn’t just another one of his twisted dreams.
he breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the spot just below your ear that makes you shiver.
"tell me if this is okay," he murmurs against your skin. he gets a strange high from the way your quickens pulse under his lips.
"it's okay," you manage, voice breathier than usual. "it's really okay."
jisung makes a satisfied sound deep in his throat, then goes back to kissing you properly. this time he forces himself to slow down, to be more deliberate.
he takes his time exploring your mouth, learning the way you respond to him—the way you whimper when he sucks on your bottom lip, the way you smile against his mouth when he does something you particularly like.
"you're so fucking cute," he mumbles, pulling back just enough to look at you. his eyes are soft, a little to innocent for the way he’s currently handling you. "been wanting to do this for so long."
"yeah?"
"fuck yeah," he responds with a laugh that’s only slightly crazed.
you never get the chance to ask exactly how long he's wanted this, how many nights he's fallen asleep thinking about it—about you. and honestly? you aren’t even sure you’d want that answer. it feels to heavy, too weighted with significance.
minutes pass. you’re not sure how many, neither is jisung. all you know is that he kisses you until your lips feel bruised under his and his head is spinning from lack of oxygen.
his hands roam more carefully now—not respectful, but not outright pushy. there’s enough intent in each brush that you can feel the restrained want in every touch. he palms your hip, traces the curve of your waist, thumbs at the silver of skin where your shirt has ridden up.
when he finally pulls away, you're both breathing hard.
his hair is a mess from where you've been running your fingers through it. when he catches sight of your lips—red and swollen from his kisses—he has to physically restrain himself from crashing back into you again
"we should…" he starts, then stops. he swallows hard. "we should probably slow down."
you blink at him, still a little dazed. "why?"
"because if we don't, i'm gonna fucking come in my pants," jisung admits with a breathless laugh. it's embarrassing but true—he's already painfully hard, and every little sound, every shift, brings him closer to that edge.
the way you're looking at him makes his chest tight. at the same time though, he's acutely aware of how you're still pressed against him, addicted to the heat radiating off your body.
"what if i don't want you to slow down?" you ask, and the boldness in your voice very nearly enough to do him in on the spot.
"don't say shit like that unless you mean it."
"i do," you say, and then you're leaning in and kissing him again.
this time, jisung doesn't hold back. he kisses you like he's trying to devour you, one hand sliding up your back to press you closer while the other grips your hip hard enough to leave marks. you can probably feel how hard he is, pressed against your thigh, and the knowledge that you know how badly he wants you makes his head spin.
you shift slightly, and jisung groans into your mouth, his hips jerking forward before he can stop himself. "fuck," he gasps, breaking the kiss. "you're gonna kill me."
"good," you manage, then kiss him again before he can respond.
jisung lets out a breathless laugh against your lips before shifting his weight, gently pushing you back until you're lying on the bed with him hovering over you.
the new position makes everything feel more intense—the way he's pressed between your thighs in a way that lets you feel how hard he is, the way his weight settles over you, the way you're looking up at him like he's the only thing in the world that matters.
"hi," he says, grinning down at you despite how wrecked he feels.
"hi," you echo, and the smile you give him back makes his heart stutter.
and then his lips are on yours yet again .
his mouth moves against yours with an ease that surprises him—like he's already learned exactly what makes you gasp and whimper. when he nips at your bottom lip, you arch up against him, and jisung makes a choked sound in response, barely holding himself together.
"you're so responsive," he murmurs against your mouth. "so fucking perfect. just how i thought you'd be."
his hand slides up your side, thumbing just under the curve of your breast, and jisung realizes with startling clarity that he needs more. needs to feel your skin against his, needs to map every inch of your body with his hands and mouth.
as if reading his mind, you reach up and push at his shoulder, urging him downward. "you said you'd work your way down, remember?"
jisung's breath catches and for a moment he just stares at you. a slow grin spreads across his face—the kind he knows is absolutely devastating.
"yeah," he says, voice rough. "yeah, i did say that, didn't i?"
he leans down to kiss you one more time, slow and deep, savoring it. promptly after, he starts trailing his lips along your jaw, taking his time. he presses open-mouth kisses to every inch of skin he can reach, committing the taste of your skin to memory.
when he gets to the spot just below your ear, he pauses for only a moment before taking the skin there between his teeth, sucking a mark into the sensitive patch.
you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair enough for jisung to make a satisfied sound. "gonna mark you up so good," he murmurs against your neck, lips hot as they brush against your skin. "want everyone to know you're mine."
the possessiveness in his own voice should probably alarm him, but he's too far gone to care.
you tilt your head to give him better access, and jisung takes full advantage, working his way down your neck with single-minded focus. this is all he's been dreaming about—getting to worship you like this, getting to make you feel good.
he sucks another mark just above your collarbone, then soothes it with his tongue. the whimper you make goes straight to his cock. jisung smiles against your skin.
"you sound so pretty," he says, voice muffled against your neck. "wanna hear what other sounds you make, jagi"
his hand comes up to rest on your ribs, thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. when you arch into the touch jisung can’t help his groan, pressing his hips down against yours just because he can.
the friction makes you both gasp.
"fuck," comes his his, the word hot on your skin as he continues his path downward.
jisung kisses along your collarbone, then down to the neckline of your shirt. he pauses there, looking up at you with eyes that are wide and begging. "can i?"
instead of granting him with a verbal answer, you reach down and grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.
jisung's eyes go wide, gaze immediately dropping to your chest.
over the span of five seconds, jisungs mouth goes from being as dry as a desert to his throat bobbing as he swallows down his own spit.
"holy shit.." he whispers, voice dripping with reverence. his hands come up to cup your breasts over your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric. "you're so fucking... fuck, baby- your perfect"
you squirm under the attention, and jisung only takes it as encouragement. he leans down to press his face between to the swell of your breasts, a groan rolling soft in the back of his throat before kissing down to your sternum. his hands stay on you, kneading mindlessly and without much care.
jisung thinks he might actually be in heaven.
and then you’re thread your fingers through his hair again pushing, deliberately, purposefully, until his face is buried in your chest.
jisung groans loud this time, breath coming out hot against your skin. "so eager," he murmurs in pure appreciation, a hand sliding around to your back to find the clasp of your bra. "what a rockstar- i fucking love it."
you arch to help him and jisung makes quick work of the clasp, tossing the fabric across the room without a second thought.
for a moment, jisung just stares.
his eyes are wide with hunger as they trace over your newly exposed skin. he's imagined this so many times, but nothing compares to actually seeing you like this.
then he's leaning down, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses across your chest, hands coming up to cup your breasts properly now that that last barrier is gone.
"so fucking perfect," he breathes against your skin, thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch up into his touch.
"god, i could live between your tits," jisung breathes out, voice rough rough around the edges while his hands continue to knead at you. "been thinking about this for months—how they'd feel in my hands, how they'd look covered in my cum, how fucking perfect they'd look bouncin’ in my face while you ride me." he groans, burying his face between them again like he can't help himself. "never gonna take my hands off of ya, jagi. can’t do it…"
then he takes one nipple into his mouth, and the cry you let out nearly makes him come on the spot.
jisung circles the sensitive bud with his tongue before sucking hard enough to make you writhe beneath him. his other hand works your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger in a rhythm that matches his mouth.
he gets so lost in it that he almost forgets he isn’t dreaming. the only thing that snaps him back is the sound of his name on your lips.
"jisung," you gasp, and he hums in response, the vibration making you shudder beneath him.
he switches sides, giving your other breast the same devoted attention.
jisung can feel himself getting harder with every passing second, can feel how wet you must be through the fabric still between you. your thighs squeeze around his hips, and jisung grinds down against you in response, unable to help himself.
but the friction isn't enough—not for either of you—and when you roll your hips in a search for more, jisung breaks away from your chest with a sharp inhale.
his forehead drops to rest against your sternum as he tries to catch his breath and regain some semblance of control.
"you're driving me insane," he mutters, voice strained. his hands slide down your sides, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. he looks up at you, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, barely holding himself together. "can i take these off?"
"please," you breathe, and jisung doesn't need to be told twice.
he sits back on his heels, making quick work of your pants and underwear in one smooth motion.
the cool air hits your heated skin, and jisung's hands are immediately there, warm and grounding as they run up your thighs. he takes a moment to just look at you—all of you—spread out on his bed, and he thinks he might actually die from want.
"fuck," he says, voice raw. he drags a thumb through your folds "look at you. so wet already."
the embarrassment that flashes across your face makes jisung's chest tighten. he immediately leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your knee. "don't," he says gently, meaning it. "don't be embarrassed. this is so fucking hot. you're so fucking hot."
his hands massage your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, and blacks out when you just let him.
the sight of you all vulnerable and trusting, turned on and willing, is almost too much. he settles between your legs, and the reality that he's finally here, that this is actually happening, sends a sick thrill through him.
"i'm gonna make you feel so good," jisung promises, his breath ghosting over your inner thigh, pressing a lingering kiss there. he means it with everything in him. "gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name."
he continues with pressing kisses to yout thigh, taking his sweet time even though every instinct is screaming at him to rush. every press of his lips against your skin makes his own arousal spike higher, and by the time he reaches the crease where your thigh meets your hip, jisung's hands are shaking.
"jisung," you whimper, and the sound goes straight to his cock.
"i know, baby," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hip bone. "just wanna savor this. been dreamin’ bout having you like this."
he presses one more kiss to your hip bone, and then—finally, finally—jisung lets himself taste you properly.
his tongue slides through your folds in one long, slow lick, and the taste of you combined with the way your back arches off the bed, pussy pressing to his face, makes him moan.
"oh my god," you gasp, hands flying down to tangle in his hair.
jisung moans again, the sound vibrating through your core. "taste so fucking good," he mumbles, addicted. then he goes back to work with the single minded focus of making good on his promise.
he eats you out like it's his sole purpose in life—because right now, it is.
jisung’s been starving for this, and now that he finally has you, jisung loses himself completely.
his tongue circles your clit before he sucks it between his lips, and the way you respond? the sounds you make? the way your hips rock up against his face? it’s better than anything he's ever imagined.
and believe him, he’s imagined.
jisung's hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he works you over, trying to memorize every sound, every reaction. when he slides one finger inside you, slow and careful, you cry out, fingers tightening almost painfully in his hair.
"that okay?" he asks, pulling back just enough to speak.
when your eyes meet his you’re met with the sight of his face glistening with you, lips swollen and chin shiny. you have to swallow down a whine before you can mutter a small “fuck, yes, please-“
jisung grins—he can't help it—then goes back to sucking on your clit while his finger pumps in and out of you. the dual sensation is overwhelming for the both of you, albeit for wildly different reasons. for you, it’s the way he uses his tongue so fucking well, the wet, warm heat pressing flat against your clit so you can grind against his face to chase your own stimulation. for him? it’s how fucking sweet you are, how your walls flutter when he hits that spot that’s always just a little too far for you to reach on your own.
"jisung," you gasp. "i think- i think i'm—"
"yeah?" he purrs, adding a second finger and curling them in a way that leaves you breathless and seeing stars. "gonna come for me, rockstar? gonna come all over my fingers?"
the words combined with the relentless pleasure seem to push you right to the edge. when jisung takes your clit between his lips again, sucking hard, you fall apart, and jisung thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful.
your orgasm crashes over you in waves, waves jisung does his best to help work you through. his own pleasure spikes high as he watches you come undone.
your whole body seems to tense, thighs clamping around his head as you shake with aftershocks of it. he can hear you making noise—probably too much noise considering dorm walls are comically thin—but he fucking loves it, wants to hear it again and again.
jisung gentles his movements as you come down, not stopping until you're pushing at his head because it's too much, too sensitive.
he presses one last kiss to your swollen clit before sitting up, looking just as wrecked as you do. his hair a mess, lips swollen and wet, and he’s looking at you like you hung the damn moon. because fuck, that was the hottest thing he's ever done. sue him.
"holy shit," you breathe, and jisung feels a surge of satisfaction at how completely undone you look.
jisung crawls back up your body, pressing kisses to your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts, before finally reaching your mouth. he kisses you deep, tongue sliding against yours in attempt to get you to taste yourself too.
"good?" he asks when he pulls back, and there's something vulnerable in the question. he needs to know you felt as good as he thinks you did, that he didn't disappoint you.
"so good," you assure him, reaching up to cup his face. "that was… i've never-"
"i know," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your palm. pride blooms warm in his chest. "first time for everything, right?"
you nod, still a little dazed, and jisung smiles. it's different from his earlier grins—softer, more genuine.
it’s only when he shifts his weight in discomfort that you realize how there’s still a devilish tent in his sweats. he catches the way your eyes drop, and immediately try and brush it off.
"don't worry bout me," he manages, even though his voice is strained and every nerve in his body is screaming for more.
"what about you?" you ask, and then your hand is on him, palming him through the fabric. jisung hisses, hips jerking forward into your touch before he can stop himself.
"i want to," you insist when he doesn’t reply, squeezing gently, and jisung nearly blacks out.
"baby- baby, fuck—" jisung whines, his hand shooting down to wrap around your wrist. he pushes your hand away as his head falls forward, sucking in heavy breaths between his teeth. he can feel the wet patch spreading across the front of his sweats, the aftermath of what just happened.
"i already- i already came, baby-"
you blink, processing his words. "you… already?"
jisung lets out a breathless laugh, cheeks flushing pink as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. he's embarrassed but also not because holy shit it was the most ‘worth it’ thing he’s ever done in his life.
"couldn't help it," he mumbles against your skin, words muffled. "you tasted so fucking good, and the sounds you were making?? fuck jagi, i didn't stand a chance."
your hands slowly raise to thread through the strands of his hair as if it wasn’t mussed up enough, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. jisung practically purrs at the touch.
"that's really hot, actually," you admit.
jisung lifts his head to look at you, searching your expression for any sign of disappointment or disgust. but all he sees is warmth, and something tender that makes his heart skip. "yeah?"
"yeah," you confirm, pulling him down for a slow, deep kiss. when you break apart, you're both smiling, and jisung feels something settle in his chest. it feels a lot like contentment.
"we should probably clean up," jisung murmurs after a moment, though he makes no move to actually get up. he's too comfortable like this, wrapped around you, feeling your heartbeat slowly return to normal beneath him.
"probably," you agree, but you don't move either.
jisung chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "give me like, five minutes. then i'll get us a towel."
"five minutes," you repeat, fingers still playing with his hair in that way that makes him want to fall asleep right here.
but after a moment, reality starts creeping back in. jisung shifts, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable dampness in his boxers. "okay, actually i really need to change like, right now."
you laugh he reluctantly pulls away, watching as he stands on slightly shaky legs. you watch him with hooded eyes as he strips off his ruined sweats and boxers, tossing them into his laundry basket before grabbing a clean pair of sweatpants from his drawer.
"here," he says, pulling out one of his oversized hoodies and tossing it to you. "you can wear this if you want."
you slip it on while jisung grabs a damp towel from his bathroom.
he comes back to find you sitting up, his hoodie falling to your mid-thigh, and he has to take a moment to breathe and not pounce on you like a wild animal and fuck you right then and there.
"c'mere," he says softly, sitting beside you. he gently cleans you up, his touch careful and intimate in a different way than before. when he's done, he tosses the towel aside and pulls you back against him.
"soooo, that was..."
"yeah," jisung agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "it really was."
heyhey! i am sorry i've not been posting at all. 😓 I kinda got my dream job so i've just been very focused on that right now. i am not sure when i'll be back but i apologise for this. hope everyone understands :) 🫶
That feeling when you find out yourself that one of your favorite writers can possibly be using AI to write their fics... I feel betrayed... looks like theyr forgot to erase the AI part... This is terrifying bcs at this point you can't really tell if a fic is AI or written by a human anymore.
I love your work it's really cute and i was wondering if I could ask for a Hyunjin fluff?
Like a really cute one where Reader and him are in a long distance relationship and reader surprise him by going to Korea without telling him and he's just so happy and emotional or idk do whatever you feel like doing bye love youu
hiiii!!! tysm i am so happy you like my works ! <3
ofc ! thank you for asking ! ive posted it now you can read it here :D
I really really hope you like it :) i didn't know how long you wanted it to be but i wrote a decent amount! thank you again have a good day! love you too :) 🫶🏻
~ warnings: kissing, fluff, a bit emotional? long distance relationship, i didn't really proof read yet so sorry for any mistakes :( i tried my best!! lemme know if i should add anything else!
~ A/N: hii! this was a request ! i hope this was up to your expectations <3 i appreciate any feedback for improvement! this was honestly such a good request! thank you!!
~ w.c: 1.1k
~ song rec: paper mache world by matilda mann 🫶🏻
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Having the love of your life so far away from you is really hard, but the yearning to be together is what makes it even more meaningful. Thinking about that moment when you both will finally be able to see each other - not just through a screen. That moment where you'll be able to hug each other and feel the warmth that video calls never really gave. That moment where kisses won't be just to the pixels, but actual lips.
It was hard, yes - but that's what makes it even better when you know you'll be meeting him in a couple of hours. After being apart for years, the wait was worth it - because it meant being with the boy who you love so much.
Hyunjin has been such a good boyfriend, he has been with you through all your highs and lows - and you have with him. You want to make him the happiest, therefore you had been planning this since last month.
It gave you so much serotonin to know that soon you'll have him in your arms. Getting Chan to line up schedules and plan it all with you was very helpful and the reason why you could carry it out smoothly.
On arrival, you quickly went inside - after Chan handed you a spare key - and put up small little things around his apartment. It was just to confuse him before he would see you.
You kept some fresh flowers on the kitchen counter that you bought during the ride here. You also got some gifts for him that you set up in places that he'll surely see. After all of that, you went to his room and hid behind the door.
Chan left after telling you that Hyunjin will be coming any minute now. He was gone for a few hours with Seungmin. Your heart was beating so fast, you felt your cheeks heating up as well. You couldn't wait to just attack him with kisses.
After some time, you heard the door open and knew it was him. Your stomach did a flip and you were almost shaking. It took everything in you to not just immediately rush out and hug him.
Hyunjin was definitely confused while coming home. He first saw the random flowers but didn't think much of it since he knows Felix changes them a lot. Then he saw the gifts - one on the couch and one near his bedroom entrance.
He first examined the gift on the couch - which was small. He opened it to find some matching jewellery and a polaroid of him and you - it was edited to have you two next to eachother since you of course couldn't take pictures together due to the distance. Although the signs were there, his cute little dumb mind still didn't realise what this could mean.
He then went to the gift near his bedroom entrance. He opened it and saw the paint set he had his eye on for sometime. Along with that - a note saying 'surprise!'.
He couldn't believe the sight he saw while looking up, you standing there shyly - hands behind your back. That smile he has seen so many times on screen - the one he so desperately wanted to kiss.
"Surprise?" You said in a soft voice. The paint set fell with a thud on the floor and he practically jumped on you to hug you. You felt his arms wrap around you for the first time ever - his scent engulfing you and instantly comforting you. You returned the hug in a matter of seconds, wrapping arms around his neck.
You heard little sniffles from him and started crying too from the sheer amount of happiness you felt.
"Baby how the heck? When?" He mumbled, refusing to look up since he was definitely crying. He just buried his face more into your neck, holding you impossibly close as if this was a dream and he was afraid if he let go, he'll be alone again.
You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair which had grown a little now. You were surprised when he shaved it and showed it to you on call for the first time. He was thinking you might not like it but all you could think about was how handsome he looked.
"I've been planning this for a while now.." You said between your own sniffles. You then cupped his face, making him lift his head up. His eyes were glossy, his lips quivering a little but the smile on his face was so content that it made you immediately lean in and kiss it. He kissed you back desperately - he always imagined it during all those nights he couldn't sleep. It wasn't surprising that the real thing felt even better.
You don't know how long you both kissed for, but when he pulled away to caress your cheek, you noticed his lips were swollen and so were yours.
You both stayed on the floor, chatting about anything and everything - all while he held you close as you cuddled up in his lap sideways. He couldn't stop looking at you as you talked - his eyes holding so much love. He showed you all his art work. You had already seen them but it was nothing compared to real life.
You stayed close the whole day - hugging, kissing, talking, cuddling. You even made him some food and he practically melted while tasting your cooking. He still couldn't process you, the person he loved the most, standing in front of him smiling. You both did all the things, that you could only dream about a few months back.
At night when you both were laying together on his bed, you cuddled up to him with his finger circling on your arm, he kissed your forehead and whispered, "Y/n, I am utterly completely madly in love with you."
His voice had cracked a little, you could see his eyes getting glossy again - reflected by the dim lights outside the dark room. He was staring at you feeling so satisfied. You kissed his lips softly, feeling him melt every time you did so was something you loved.
"I love you too, Jinnie, every second more than before." You replied, smiling up at him. He only pulled you closer as you both drifted to sleep to the sound of each other's heartbeats and soft breathing.
For you both, the distance and waiting only made each moment even more sacred.
This is my first time writing. Felt inspired by Bang Chan, so here we go. It’s gonna be a series, parts 1 to 4 already exist. Who knows where and when it will end. Any feedback is more than welcome <3
pairing: idol!Bang Chan x fem!reader
genre: fluff (for now)
word count: 1844
warnings: minor filthy thoughts, slight anxiety
It started in a crowd of thousands, just another concert night. But when his eyes found yours, something shifted – a story that stretches from the stage lights to the spaces in between, where distance, timing, and quiet glances become everything.
You were standing at the barricade and still wondered how you got this lucky, even though it already was the middle of the Stray Kids concert. Several members had come down to the trenches of the stadium and blessed you with hand claps and smiles. You had waited for months for this day to come around, so you enjoyed this new core memory to its full extent. The weather was perfect, the last rays of the sunset kissing your skin.
Finally one of those moments where the idols spread out from the center stage to the stage legs came and this time it was Bang Chan‘s time to stand in front of you. The man who wrecked your bias instantly the moment you got to experience his aura live for the first time. Sure, you loved all of them, but he and his daddy energy had occupied chunks of your brain and refused to ever leave. He wore white pants and a black tank top, his muscular veiny arms flexing like weapons of mass seduction.
Suddenly Chan looked at you. His eyes seemingly piercing through your soul. Everything appeared to occur in slow motion and you spotted that sly confidence curling his gorgeous lips in a way that could make grown women fold like lawnchairs. „Shit“, you thought to yourself, „I probably look like a deer in headlights right now“. You forced your brain to lift the fog that had spontaneously engulfed you and smiled back sweetly at him. He smiled back at you briefly, but rushed off to the main stage for the chorus.
Only a few minutes went by before he was right there again, immediately locking eyes with you. At least that’s what it seemed like to you, but you attributed that to your delusions taking over. You hadn‘t even finished that thought when you saw the biggest Channie smile appear on his face and he pointed directly at you, leaving no doubt who he was interacting with. You were in danger. This man was the perfect combination of sunshine in human form and sanity-threatening levels of hotness. Now he pointed down in front of himself, like he knew how many times you had imagined yourself in that exact spot, on your knees.
But obviously you couldn’t just get up on stage, so you put on your bravest face and most daring smile, pointed back at him and then down in front of you. His smile widened even more, but then faltered into a bashful lip-bite – he hadn’t expected this reaction because usually Stays just absolutely lost it over this new habit of his. He felt challenged in just the right way and- no. No. What had you done? There was no time to even scold yourself with the speed at which he proceeded to find the fastest way to get off the stage. Down to you. The crowd roared behind you, but their screams faded to white noise.
The Bang Chan you knew – the crowd-teasing, body-rolling heartthrob – was gone. The man standing only inches from you wasn’t performing anymore. This was Christopher. You could barely handle the tension of your ultimate bias being this close, so you extended your right arm for a hug and looked at him with the purest smile, completely deflecting the naughty thoughts that were rambling around in your head. After all he was just a human man, not someone to be objectified, and you knew how deeply he needed to be seen like that sometimes. Even with his stage confidence you could occasionally catch it peeking through.
He came in for the biggest hug, wrapping you completely in his arms. He smelled amazing, like a mix of musk and vanilla. His longer, slightly wet hair brushed against your cheek. When he noticed he pulled back to wipe the sweat off with his left hand while looking deep into your eyes. He pinned you with that look – like you were already his. You nearly asked, „What are we?“, but he was already on the stage again.
The concert continued and you were having an absolute blast. Just when you thought you had recovered from what had happened with Chan he was back. Back to looking at you, waving at you, teasing you. Even with the chorus pounding through the stadium floor under your feet, the world narrowed to just his gaze. You had been chosen as his next victim and you loved everything about it.
When Felix got a water bottle to drench some Stays in another pit you already knew what, or rather who, was about to come for you. Loaded with his iconic smile and two small water bottles Chan walked towards your area. When he found you in the crowd his eyes darkened slightly and he yelled „are you ready?“ so loud you could even hear it over the music. You looked at him slightly terrified, knowing what he was capable of, and gave the smallest possible nod. Surprisingly he did not unload his bottle completely on you in one push, but splashed you and about ten co-victims simultaneously. He hurried away, almost as if he feared some kind of retribution.
Now it was time for the unit songs. You appreciated this part of the show because it was more quiet than the insane performances which you would keep thinking and talking about for months. It was intimate and allowed the members to shine individually. After Han, Felix, Changbin and I.N. had their performances Chan and Hyunjin came back on stage and delivered a captivating, ovary-wrecking performance of Escape.
Towards the end of the song a young woman with long brown hair, wearing all black and a backstage lanyard, came up to you from between the barricade and stage. She handed you a cooled bottle of water and a piece of paper. You thanked her and took a quick look at the paper: a venue flyer outlining upcoming events. For a second you considered keeping the bottle for splashing purposes, but the idea of cold water running down your throat was too intriguing. The heat from both the performances and the sun creeping in through the gaps of the stadium roof was starting to get to you. After some sips you folded the flyer and just as you were about to put it in your fanny pack you noticed some text on the non-printed backside.
The handwriting was slanted, messy, half-illegible. Like it was written fast: „Meet me at entry C at 23:30? Chan“. Your hands trembled, nearly crinkling the paper as your heart did its best impression of a bass drum. You looked up confused and noticed the crew member was still standing a few feet away. Apparently she had watched you and seemed quite amused about your current state. You mouthed „for real?“ at her and she nodded. It really was from him. You made enough of an impression that this man scribbled a note in one of the few pauses he got during the show and managed to describe you to someone well enough that they could find you.
You had to voluntarily keep your mouth from hanging open and took a deep swallow. HE wanted to meet you after the show? The shock rolling over you was so huge that you only vaguely noticed they had moved on to perform Cinema when rainbow colored confetti rained down on you. In general you tried to divide your attention evenly amongst the idols, but your mind was racing, intoxicated and you only had eyes for Chan. With every crowd talk between songs he stole another tiny part of your heart.
A few songs later he was back at the stage leg where you stood. You caught him sneaking a quick look at you and saw him grinning to himself after he had noticed your baffled expression. After he had poured his heart and soul into the bridge of Cover Me he found your eyes in the crowd and winked at you. Not in the way a rockstar might wink at his groupie, basically implying you‘d have sex later, but rather weirdly comforting. You knew you’d be safe with this man – not that you even considered not meeting him.
The rest of the concert flew by, or maybe it just seemed like that to you, because the closer it got towards the end the more your stomach twisted and butterflies did backflips in your mind. All you could think about was meeting Chan, and the looks he kept throwing you were not helping with your nervous system collapsing slowly but steadily. Sure, when Felix came down you snapped out of your almost-trance for a minute and even managed to take a cute selfie with him, and you still enjoyed the concert. But this wasn’t just any concert anymore.
After they left the stage you checked the time – 22:50. Hopefully enough to leave without stressing, freshen up a bit and find entrance C. You slowly left the inside of the stadium with all the other Stays, everyone being chill and respectful. God you loved that fandom. You found an almost empty men‘s restroom, went inside and blocked one of the mirrors for five solid minutes to fix your hair and make up. You were ready. Sort of.
The butterflies had moved to your belly and it felt like they were about to fly out of you. Luckily the signs in the stadium made it easy for you to find the entrance you were expected at. „Is he really going to show up? This can’t be real.“, you mumbled to yourself involuntarily. You stood at the entrance ten minutes early and wished you were the kind of person who showed up exactly on time so you wouldn’t have to suffer through standing there now.
But then your mood shifted. Suddenly, out of the blue, you weren’t nervous anymore. Your anxiety got replaced with a feeling of subtle anticipatory excitement. You kept watching people go in and out of the entrance, when you finally spotted the woman who had handed you his note earlier. Waving at her shyly you walked over. She handed you a backstage pass and gestured you to put it around your neck and follow her. The two of you walked through a long, narrow hallway with dozens of doors left and right of it. A ton of crew members passed you and you could swear you had seen Hyunjin at one point. After what felt like an eternity of awkwardness she opened the door leading to a backstage area.
The scent of cologne, hairspray, and adrenaline lingered in the dimly lit, air-conditioned room. There wasn’t a lot in it, just a make up station featuring a mirror to your left, some clothes on a rack in the back and two huge comfy looking gray cotton sofas. And, on one of them: Bang Chan. „You really came!“, he beamed, voice bright with genuine surprise as he got up from the couch to greet you, a big dimpled smile spreading across his face.
warnings: none really, just changbin being the amazing friend he is :)
a/n: aaa i wanted to post this on his bday but i got caught up in work and never got the time 😭 so happy birthday to the cutest man alive he's so baby girl in personality but daddy in physical appearance 🙏.
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~ bestfriend!changbin who is your ride or die and has always been by your side through all the ups and downs, never abandoning you or ignoring you.
~ bestfriend!changbin who sees the way you stare at his muscles and gets happy knowing you love seeing them, so he always makes sure to give you the best view - flexing them in front of you, sending gym pictures post-workout, etc.
~ bestfriend!changbin who loves playing with your hair when you both cuddle to watch something, he loves how it smells and how soft it feels. he loves to ruffle it when you're looking up at him because he finds it so cute.
~ bestfriend!changbin who hates seeing people break your heart knowing he'll treat you way better. every time you come to him with a frown, he lifts you up and spins you because he knows it will get you to laugh.
~ bestfriend!changbin who can't help but hug you tightly when he feels sad, he knows your hugs will immediately boost his mood, and as a bonus - you get his hugs as well. it makes you feel warm and protected.
~ bestfriend!changbin who loves teasing you just to see your cute pout. he wishes he could kiss it. he loves seeing you get grumpy. he makes it up to you by giving you massages and cuddling you.
~ bestfriend!changbin who always lets you win in competitive games even though he could clearly win. whenever you challenge him to arm wrestling, he would lose on purpose just to see that smile on your face.
~ bestfriend!changbin who loves you a little too much but just wants to be by your side no matter what you see him as. he'll always be there for you no matter what.
i'm absolutely enamoured with your lovesick!hyunjin post :( so mindblowingly sweet and pure—i didn’t even realise i’ve been craving something so tender until i read it.
if you could write more stuff like that—soft, lovesick, a little clingy hyunjin—please send it my way because i’ll eat it up every time.
adore your work <3
ahh tysm 🫶 in glad you liked it! ill make more stuff like that soon! but if you're interested, i have another hyunjin fic where he's soft and a bit clingy and cute, you can read it here ! tysm again im so happy you liked it :D
hii!! i cannot pick an all time favourite, it depends on my mood! but I've been listening to muddy water and side effects a lot these days so I'd say its those two right now :D
the last thing I'll say about this ai thing is that if you really don't understand the problem with writers letting machines write fic without disclosing it then I don't know what to tell you. I know it's uncomfortable, to have to face the fact that you've been fooled. it's embarrassing to have been caught liking something fake. but the answer to that is not to double down.
believe it or not, I'm not against AI, I think there are so many good applications for it - but to write stories and fanfiction, something that has always been a pure labour of love? that is not one of them
ignoring the glaring red flag that these people are straight up LYING to you and taking your praise and admiration (and sometimes even money, as we've seen) for something they didn't do, which I think is despicable -
art is inherently human. writing is art. to just allow machines to make art and not bat an eye is dystopian. it's a slippery slope exactly where capitalists want you to go. because the only art machines will ever make is the clean variety. the one that doesn't threaten anyone's worldview, doesn't add anything new. clean, palatable art - that can be infused with whatever values are convenient right now.
do you see what I mean?
it's going to desensitize you. it's going to make you get used to the hyper-clean style until a creation by a human is going to make you feel weird because it doesn't fit. and this, very often, can be easily manipulated into you starting to believe that that makes the stuff that makes you uncomfy WRONG. morally. you may think that's not true but, trust me, we've been seeing it on a grand scale with the move to puritanism by young people.
if, deep down, you know you like ai fic because it comes out at unprecedented rates I need you to know that it's because it fits your consumption pattern that has been carefully trained into you by tech companies for decades. this, in itself, is a problem. you've been manipulated.
if you can't see the value in something human-made for the simple fact that it's made by a human. if you can't see the value of spending hours on something because your heart tells you to? yes, even if it's smutty fanfic? I'm genuinely asking you to think again.
if you want someone to talk to, if you're in doubt or just don't know what to believe or what to feel - my ask box is open. as long as you're not rude about it, I will respond to you and we can have a conversation
I promise you, I will not judge you. I understand that it's a difficult thing to navigate. I'm collecting everything ai under my ai tag
a/n: idk i just wanted to make smth hyunjin related because he's been my focus this week like honestly he's such a cool person and is definitely really romantic imo. :) I'm probably gonna do diff headcanons for everyone because i have some good ideas ig, hope you like this one!
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~ lovestruck!hyunjin who loves you so much that he gets giddy when you do so much as breathe in his direction.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin who only likes to spend time with you and would cancel any plans he has in a matter of seconds if it means he'll get to be with you.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin who is sick and lying on his bed, burning up. and when you come over he thinks he's taking his last breaths because you look like an angel coming to his rescue. he loves having you take care of him - you feeding him soup and medicine, being worried while he just stares at you with a gentle smile on his face thinking what he did to deserve such an amazing person.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin who loves being clingy with you, no matter the time and place - grocery shopping? he's reaching up for something while being behind you so your back presses to his chest and he can put an arm around your waist. at a restaurant date? his hands are intertwined with yours half of the time while he pleads you to feed him like a baby but then wipes sauce off your lips with his thumb and licks it, smirking when you get flustered.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin who wants to be in your arms 24/7 and wants you to keep whispering soft things in his ears as he falls asleep with you stroking his hair soothingly.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin who buys romantic gifts for you almost every week - shoes, clothes, matching bracelets, flowers, jewellery you once mentioned you liked and forgot about, plushies, etc.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin who feels like crying when kissing you because he loves how perfectly your lips fit with his. he wishes he could never stop kissing you. loves holding your face gently, stroking your cheeks as the other hand is holding yours, caressing your knuckles.
~ lovestruck!hyunjin for whom you fell first, but he fell harder and is still falling deeper everyday.
warnings: MDNI! suggestive texts, thigh worship text (minho's), choking kink mentions in changbin's, implied nude sending by reader, reader is down bad rn bcz why not? (jeongin and hyunjin are down bad as well) (actually all of them r down bad 🤷♀️), mention of pet play kink (?), just overall everything is suggestive, pls lemme know if i shud add anything else?
A/N: ik im doing so many fake texts but 😭 its fun to do and i need some time to think of ideas for new stuff, I have one in my drafts but I'm a bit lazy rn so- yes. also yay i did all 8 in one post :D
That’s what Jeongin keeps telling himself as he watches you press your face just a little too close to the bakery display, glasses slipping down your nose as you squint at the tiny handwritten flavor cards. You ask him—voice light, curious—“Should I get the vanilla bean tart or the raspberry cream puff?”
But he doesn’t hear the words. Not really.
Not when your eyes widen in that way they always do when you’re excited. Not when the breeze drifts in through the open bakery door, ruffling your hair into soft strands that frame your face like you’re the main character in a shoujo anime. Not when the glass reflects soft golden light over your skin and your scent—vanilla, laundry-fresh, warm—lingers in the air between you.
You look up at him again, blinking when he doesn’t answer right away.
“Innie?” you ask, sweet and concerned. “Which one should I get?”
And he forgets how to speak.
His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, because his brain is looping one simple sentence:
“I’m in love with you.”
It crashes over him like warm sunlight. It’s not sudden, not really—it’s been growing in the quiet walks home, in shared hoodies and stolen bites of your food, in laughter that leaves his cheeks sore. But now, seeing you like this, something clicks.
Your cheeks puff just a little in impatience, and you point between the two desserts again. “Be honest. I trust your taste.”
And oh—God. He’s really in love with you.
He clears his throat. Tries not to sound like he’s short-circuiting.
“Whichever one you don’t get,” he says, voice soft, “I’ll get. We can share.”
Your smile could ruin him. “Okay, deal.”
You go back to deciding, and he watches you, chest tight, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to go back to being “just friends” when you look like that—like something out of a dream, like sugar and sunbeams and something far too soft for this world.
Yeah. He’s definitely in love with you.
And maybe… maybe soon he’ll tell you.
But for now, he watches the way your fingertips tap the glass, and he makes a silent promise:
You’ll always have my favorite flavor. Always.
okay okay okay ill stop writing yearning men (¬_¬")
