stray seasons

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[skzseasons]

!S Week: Summer 2022 Masterlist🐚

Hot Dom Summer🍦

🍋 AO3 Collection | Masterlist Directory 📚

[Works categorized by type, then alphabetized by creator url within those categories]

☀️Fic🌊

Make it up to You [Ao3] - @bunnypig18

Pudding - @cb97percent

route 66 - @hwan-g

SURFIN’ - @j-0ne25

own me - @multifandomfantasies

Drip - @muselin

Devour You - @spilledtee

soju - @straywrds

[muselin]

Drip - SKZ Hyunjin & Felix

What: very behind schedule entry for @skzseasons Hot Dom Summer. Smuttttttttt, kiddies go home. Wax play, sensation play, pre-negotiated scene, dungeon, restraints, aftercare. Reader gender not specified. Reader has a vagina.

Who: Dom!Hyunjin x sub!reader x Softdom!Felix

Word count: 4.6k

Hyunjin fixed up the collar around your neck then leaned over and kissed the clasp.

"You ready?"

The shiver that ran through you at the sound of the click left you without words, your breath dying in your throat and you could only nod.

Hyunjin smiled and stroked under your chin like he would a kitten, your eyes meeting in the mirror and his scanning you up and down.

"You know I'm fine with non-verbals but others may need words."

"Yes..." Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Let's go."

_______________________

"You'll be very good for me tonight, won't you?"

Hyunjin's whispers in your ear made you clench your thighs together but his hand sliding in between them put a stop to it. You looked up nervously, checking whether the taxi driver could see you in the rear view.

"How embarrassing for you that I have to carry around extra pairs of panties for you since you ruin so many before I even touch you."

You could hear the smile in his whisper right by your ear. He grabbed your thigh, reminding you that it was not for you to decide what his hands had access to. Your scene had already started and you could not disobey Hyunjin without incurring a punishment. He didn't even have to say it to you. His expression hadn't changed and he hadn't said a word but the small amount of extra pressure from his fingertips made goosebumps rise over your skin.

____________________________

"Good to see you again, Hyunjin!"

"You too, nice to come out again!"

Hyunjin was being greeted enthusiastically by leather-clad hostesses and patrons as he guided you into the club. He allowed you a lot of freedom and you could go and speak to anyone you wanted, as long as they didn't get grabby with you and asked permission from Hyunjin before playing with you. Tonight, however, your mind was already so fuzzy that you simply clung to Hyunjin's arm and let the conversations, pleasantries and sounds of music and laughter just wash over you without really listening to any of it.

"Where do you want to play tonight, baby?"

Hyunjin's voice pulled you out of your blissfully nebulous state of consciousness.

"Hmm?"

"Baby?"

It took you two beats too long to meet Hyunjin's curious gaze and he realised you were swimming already. He reached over and cupped your jaw in one hand gently, keeping your focus on him, and laced the fingers of his other hand through yours. A gesture of equals.

"Shall I decide for you," he asked sweetly.

"Yeah. It's a little hard to think right now, I just want you to tell me what to do." Your voice came out weightless and airy. Hyunjin moved his fingers from your jaw to caress your cheek as a smile spread over his pretty features.

"I'll make sure you have a lot of fun tonight then."

_________________________

The drop in temperature raised goosebumps over your skin and you instinctively reached up to rub over your bare arms. Hyunjin guided you to a new part of the club you had not seen before. He led you down a set of stairs and you noted several couples already getting hot and heavy. With one of them, a male who was obviously the sub had his leash slung over a pipe in the wall, effectively half-hanging him as his dominant forced him to watch the couple next to him who were engaging in enthusiastic oral. The thought of Hyunjin hanging you by your leash like that and forcing you to watch someone else being used had strange shivers creeping over you that had nothing to do with the cold.

All too soon the chill became sharp once more as Hyunjin led you further down still and a trickle of fear started to take root in your gut. The lights were getting dimmer and dimmer, the walls more and more bare, the doors fewer, and instead of wood they were made of iron bars.

Hyunjin gave slack to your leash and let you go down the last set of steps alone. You continued to put one foot in front of the other hesitantly and when you reached the bottom, you heard the sound of a heavy metal gate shutting and a key clicking into a lock.

"Hyunjin?"

Your voice was a half-whisper as you looked up at him quizzically. The sole fluorescent light above cast harsh shadows over his face, obscuring his eyes and he ran his hand through his long hair, not giving any indication that he'd heard you.

You'd talked about this, that it would be a surprise so it would feel more real. Your safeword flashed in your mind, an impulse, but despite the unease and the unknown, you knew Hyunjin would let no harm come to you. Surely? He must know you were scared, he must know you needed some kind of sign of reassurance from him, a smile, anything. Yet he gave none and his hold on your leash became harsh, the leather creaking slightly at being pulled so taut.

"H-Hyun...."

Your pulse hammered in your throat, cutting off his name halfway. He only stood at the bottom of the stairs, two feet away from you, giving no orders, no guidance.

The noise of one of the iron gates opening to your left made you shriek and jump out of your skin.

"Hyunjin!!"

Only then did Hyunjin's face split into a smile.

Fear.

He loved your fear. He got off on it but it took so much to get him to give you a scene that incorporated it, to believe you when you said you'd be happy to do it and that you wanted to please him. You'd let him plan it out himself and asked him to keep the details a surprise, giving him your hard limits and trusting him with the rest.

A shorter, boyish male with blonde hair stepped out of the opened gate, smiling. Something about his eyes unnerved you but his aura attracted you.

"This is Felix," Hyunjin said simply, and if you weren't afraid before, what he did next made you whine pathetically and shake in your place.

Hyunjin tossed the end of your leash to Felix who immediately pulled it taut. The unfamiliar way that your collar pulled around your neck had you gripping onto it.

"Welcome to our new dungeon, lovely. Come with me," Felix said and the sound of his baritone voice had your knuckles turning white around your leash.

Hyunjin stood idly, watching the exchange and when Felix tugged on your leash you did not move.

"You will listen to Felix like you listen to me," Hyunjin said quietly, but without the usual affectionate undercurrent to his tone and there was no doubt in your mind this was the scene he'd orchestrated. Yet knowing that didn't help you overcome the fear coursing coldly through your veins and you remained rooted in place.

When Felix saw that you were resisting, he stepped closer to you, not missing the way you flinched. He got into your space and raised both hands to cradle your face in a surprisingly intimate gesture.

"I won't hurt you, baby. I'll be good to you."

The shred of affection was like a bandage over a stab wound but had your knees going weak regardless, and you found yourself huddling against Felix, seeking out his warmth and he allowed it, letting you trail your hands over his lean frame over his clothes.

"Soon enough you'll be begging me to hurt you anyway," he whispered to you as he met your eyes and you shivered, your core clenching reflexively. You looked back at Hyunjin who seemed perfectly at ease and had stepped closer to you. You felt his large hands applying pressure to your hips, guiding you to follow Felix who was moving backwards into the gated room, and you did not resist further. Hyunjin's ease and Felix's soft touch had warmth rolling through you, countering the chill of the basement level you were in.

The room was effectively a cell, bare except for a table full of lit candles which were the only source of light, and some sort of contraption in the corner. You swallowed thickly, your emotions a roller coaster as the fear raised its head again.

"Hyunjin told me how responsive you can be," Felix's voice grated in your ear as he pulled you to him, Hyunjin's hands falling away from you. The shorter male buried his fingers underneath your collar, cradling your neck as he pulled you in until his lips were a hair's breadth away from yours. "Are you cold," he whispered. You only nodded. Felix's eyes dropped to your lips, his long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks and you picked up on his intention, your lips parting slightly.

The air felt thick between you and him and you were so aware of his fingers on your neck, his other hand still wrapped in your leash. Soft lips met yours and you couldn't help the moan that ripped from your throat. Fear, anticipation and arousal were mixing all around the edges of your consciousness and making it impossible to think. You felt reduced to your base impulses and Felix was satisfying one of them, practically purring against your lips. His tongue slipped between them, coaxing yours to curl around his and your hands soon found themselves clutching at his shirt.

The sound of something mechanical broke you away from the oasis of Felix's kiss and you turned to see Hyunjin wheeling forward the contraption you had glimpsed upon coming into the room.

"This is a wooden cross," he explained matter-of-factly. You had seen some before but they were usually upright whereas this one was horizontal, reminding you vaguely of a physician's table. "Why don't you rest on it and we'll take care of you, babe?"

The light from the candles was enough for you to see that Hyunjin was already tenting in his jeans and that only excited you more. Felix gave slack to your leash which was enough for you to sit on the cross, only then noticing the metal cuffs at the top of it. Felix took your right hand and Hyunjin your left, each pulling them our to straighten your arms and you laid down on the cross as they secured the cuffs around your wrists. The clinking of metal, the darkness and chill had you on high alert but your breathing was deep and even, your mind primed to follow orders which was the very thing Hyunjin tested.

"Snap your fingers," he commanded quietly and you snapped. "One is for?"

"Keep going," you answered.

"Two are for?"

"Stop."

"Good."

Felix sat by your head, his fingers threading through your hair like he was stroking a frightened animal. "Still cold?"

"Mmhmm," you nodded, looking up at him pleadingly.

Instead of meeting your eyes Felix met Hyunjin's, both of them smiling and making you feel left out of the wordless conversation. They swapped your leash between themselves, Hyunjin now holding it and sitting by your head while Felix went over to the table and picked up one of the candles. There was a mix of red, black and white candles which you had failed to notice before. The moving flame made long shadows dance on the walls and your eyes lost focus, something pulling you under to where the only thing you could focus on were Hyunjin's fingers on your arm.

Felix noticed your unfocused gaze and turned to Hyunjin.

"Should I wait?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "It's not a problem."

Felix then loomed over you with the red candle, tilting it in its holder and dripping some of the melted wax over your sternum.

The scream that left your lips bounced off the concrete walls, echoing down the hall. Hyunjin only laughed, leaning over your ear.

"This was originally built as a bomb shelter. No one can hear you scream down here, pet."

The sting and heat of the wax were a jolt to your senses, not desired but not unwelcome. The thought of not being to get out set you alight and you strained against the cuffs at your wrists, helpless noises filling the room. Hyunjin stood up and moved to sit over your knees, immobilising you further and making something primal in you jump at the feeling.

Felix tilted the candle again, dripping two symmetrical lines of wax at the underside of your ribs. You yelped, your back arching off the cross but otherwise immobilised.

"Uungh..."

Hyunjin's grunt made you go still and you realised that he'd ground his erection over your thighs as you squirmed.

"Feeling a bit warmer now," Felix chuckled, drawing your attention back to him.

Your brain was surely malfunctioning because the fear only kept turning into want, your underwear sticking to you despite your squirming against Hyunjin.

"The candles have different melting points. The black ones are low temperature, the red slightly higher, and the white are not specialised candles, they burn hot." Felix explained as he trailed his fingers over the row of candles. "Which ones shall we play with next, hmm?"

You instinctively looked at Hyunjin after Felix's question, looking for guidance or permission, something, but were instead met with the sight of Hyunjin unzipping his jeans and taking out his cock. His eyes were fixed to the lines of wax Felix had dripped over your ribs.

"Black," you croaked, amd Felix smiled sweetly at you, picking up a black candle and making his way to sit by your head. He held the candle close to illuminate your face and bent down to meet your lips upside down. You sighed against him, needing his sweet disposition to counter the fear still drumming in your chest.

You felt movement on top of your legs and released Felix's lips to look down. Hyunjin had eased his jeans down his hips and was now rutting rhythmically in between your clenched thighs, his full bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he followed Felix's movements.

Then you understood. This whole setup was not for you. It was for Hyunjiin.

"Do it, drip it," Hyunjin ordered Felix impatiently and the shorter male aimed and then tipped the candle over your nipples. It was not as hot as the red wax but still made you jerk. You sucked in sharp breaths as the black wax was dripped in lines across your chest, the heat fizzling over your sensitive spots and making you clench your thighs harder. You heard Hyunjin groan at the increased pressure on his dick. He stood up briefly to spread your legs apart and let them rest to the sides of the cross. Then he sat in between your legs, his cock still hard and jutting forward, and he rubbed it over your clothed entrance.

"I think my baby really likes this," he purred. "You're getting wetter, I can feel it. I want to see it on your thighs," he said as he looked at Felix who was stroking your hair again.

"What shall it be next then," he asked you.

"Red."

You felt nervous about being stung hotter, but from the way Hyunjin was biting his lips you had a feeling that he would get more pleasure out of making you squirm harder and you were still doing this to please him.

Felix's fingers left your hair as he stood up to swap the candles, and in the meantime Hyunjin manoeuvred your legs up and together to take off your underwear. His hands ghosted over the insides of your thighs as he set your legs back down, settling in between them and letting his cock graze against your slippery entrance. The moan that came from you echoed in a particular way, more so as Felix sat by your head again, trailing one hand over your restrained arms. You were spread out for them, your body on display, and things became blurry.

Hyunjin's tongue caught between his teeth at the sounds you made and he slid forward on the cross, the head of his cock nestling in between your folds. A tilt of your hips would be all it took to have him slip inside you but you weren't told you could.

"I want to feel you clenching on my cock while Felix drips this on you." The smile on Hyunjin's face and his dark eyes made you shiver, as did his tone when he turned to Felix and ordered him: "Drip."

This time you didn't shriek. The dulled edges of your consciousness, Felix's soothing touch over your arms and in your hair, Hyunjin's sinful expression as he held his breath waiting to see the red drips over your skin - it was all too consuming and you started anticipating too. When the wax hit your soft inner thigh, you only sighed in relief.

Hyunjin reached and trailed his fingers over the hardening wax, motioning to Felix to keep going. Felix dripped it over your other thigh and Hyunjin scooted forward, his cock now finally entering you.

"Don't stop," Hyunjin rasped and you realised he was talking to Felix, eyes still glued to you.

All your attention had been focused on where the hot sting would come, your nerve endings on high alert, and the feeling of Hyunjin stuffing himself inside your cunt after waiting for so long was overwhelming. Your lips opened in a silent scream and Felix's free hand clasped over your restrained wrist reflexively to keep you from moving or hurting yourself.

Hyunjin tested you, thrusting shallowly several times and the heightened sensation of his length dragging against your wallsade you whine. It felt too much, too good, and when Felix started dripping higher up your thigh you started begging.

"Please, please fuck me! Deeper, please!"

Hyunjin smirked and harshly slapped the inside of your thigh that Felix had just painted red.

"Much too early to be begging me. Maybe if you keep being a good toy for me and don't dare to ruin my fun, I'll let you cum. Felix, I want the white."

Your sharp inhale did not not go unnoticed but you didn't make any move to snap your fingers at all, and Felix leaned over you, tilting your chin up gently for you to look at him.

"I hope you'll be good for me too, I have a little idea of how to make your pussy really pretty. I'll draw a nice white ring around it, and we'll top your clit off with a little red, how does that sound?"

His voice was too sweet. He could have said anything right then and it would have sounded like a good idea to you. You found yourself staring up at him desperately and nodding. You lost a bit of time where Felix must have switched the candles because all your mind registered was Hyunjin's warmth between your legs, his cock teasing you with shallow strokes that were maddeningly insufficient. You clenched hard around his cock, a never-ending stream of whimpers flowing from your mouth.

The warmth gave way to a chill of anticipation when you felt Felix sit by your head again but this time he reached to hold the side of your jaw in his free hand in a tight grip, fixing your head in one position so you only looked at Hyunjin. The taller man licked his lips, eyes locked onto the visual of his cock entering you and he nodded to Felix.

The white wax dripped dangerously close to your sensitive folds and you moaned loudly, not from pain or heat but from relief at finally having the stimulation you craved. Your nerves were buzzing, eager to feel more, and your squirmed against your restraints, causing Hyunjin to ram his cock into you to put you in your place.

"Fuck!! Please, please, keep giving it to me," you begged him but you quickly felt a hand lock around your jaw. You looked up at Felix who pursed his lips and tutted at you.

"You heard when he said he wants to have his fun with you. You don't want to make him mad, or I will drip the white further up." His honey tone was sing-song but the threat was clear and goosebumps rose up your arms.

Hyunjin continued stuffing your pussy and any thoughts lingering around evaporated from your brain. The pressure and drag of his length inside you was delicious and you went pliant beneath the two men, a stream of thin and airy moans echoing incessantly.

Felix looked up at Hyunjin with some concern, thinking you might have reached your limit.

"Should I keep going?"

Hyunjin bit his lip and canted his hips in a deep thrust, making you moan louder.

"Absolutely. Drip it."

Your tone grew more desperate at hearing that and Felix's deep chuckle tickled your ear. He tilted the candle and more white drips fell and hardened on the sensitive skin just outside your folds. You clenched hard around Hyunjin and he swore, slowing down inside you but still filling you up to the brim. He reached to massage your clit with his thumb and you clenched even harder, your walls squeezing out any but of friction he could offer to get you closer to your orgasm.

Felix released your jaw and trailed his fingers to one of your nipples, pinching and rubbing it as he dripped more of the heated wax over you. Your breaths quickened as you felt yourself getting closer to the precipice, the sensations becoming overwhelming as they came from so many places on your body. You tried to meet Hyunjin's thrusts halfway and felt him lean his weight on you.

"Remember what I said, you little whore," Hyunjin spat at you with a grin even as his fingers increased their tempo on your clit. "If you try to rush me, you won't get to cum at all."

"Please, no! I need to cum, ohhh fuck..."

You mewled as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your hammering heart but it was no use when Felix continued dripping the liquid heat on your skin, working to complete the white circle around your pussy. He left it slightly unfinished, skipping your perineum, and put the candle to the side in favour of sucking the nipple he had not played with yet between his lips.

Your back arched under the two as they continued stimulating you, your hands clenched hard in your restraints. Finally, Felix swapped the candles again and sat by your head, tilting your chin up to look at him.

"Are you ready?"

You nodded furiously, walls clenching and releasing rhythmically around Hyunjin's cock pistoning inside you. Hyunjin's own breathing was unsteady, he was close and was rutting into you faster and harder now.

"I need to get this just right, so I'll need you to slow down," Felix instructed and for the first time, you felt as if Felix was actually the one in charge of this scene. Hyunjin reluctantly slowed down to a stop, fully hilting inside you and forcing you to feel his entire length and girth in your oversensitised cunt. You got louder, almost screaming with how close you were, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

"So fucking pretty," Felix's deep voice rasped near your ear as the red candle in his hand tipped over and a thick drop of wax landed on your clit. The lick of heat right on your bundle of nerves made you scream, and the moment it had fallen, Hyunjin pulled back to ram into you fast and hard.

"Cum on my cock," he ordered you breathlessly, and you nearly sobbed in relief because your walls had started spasming already anyway. The liquid heat felt as if it covered you from the outside and filled you up from inside, a heavy blanket of pleasure and warmth cocooning you as you careened off the edge. Hyunjin was spilling inside you and it only added to your pleasure, his warmth adding to the already too-hot feeling enveloping your senses.

When your walls stopped fluttering, you felt his cock pull out from you, only to be replaced by another. Somewhat differently shaped, and a different set of hands attached to your hips. You looked up to see Felix fucking into you, pretty lips parted and you moaned at how hard he felt inside you. Hyunjin's cum squelched lewdly as his accomplice fucked it into you.

There was a jerkiness to his movements now where he had always been gentle and precise before, and it told you that Felix wouldn't last long, the tell-tale twitching of his cock inside you making you clench around him.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Felix shut his eyes tightly, grabbing at your hips harder. He pulled out, stroking himself quickly and warm droplets hit your skin. Felix's cum cut a line across the red wax blooming over your clit, making his little masterpiece even more intricate.

"You look so beautiful covered in my cum like that," Felix sighed as he milked himself over you skin, nudging your folds with the swollen head of his cock.

"Good thing I'm here to capture it all," Hyunjin's smile could be heard in his voice and you heard the clicking of a shutter, knowing he was taking photos of you now. You looked up and followed him as he aimed to capture you at different angles, and your glassy eyes and the mess over your body were immortalised on film.

You registered movement around you as the two cleaned themselves up and tidied up, then turned their attention to you. Felix used a flat tool to remove the wax from your body, teasingly taking more time and gliding over your nipples and clit a few more times than needed. Hyunjin followed with oil to clean off anything remaining, strong hands massaging into your muscles which you had overworked from tensing.

"Can I have a kiss?"

You looked up, hearing Felix's question, but he was looking at Hyunjin.

"I suppose that would be okay, you did just help me fulfill a top-spot fantasy of ours."

Your eyes fluttered closed automatically when you felt Felix's fingers cup your jaw and his lips covered yours, gentle and butterfly-soft. Your groaned when he licked at your bottom lip, asking for permission, and you let him. His tongue met yours, caressing and exploring as you faintly heard the restraints around your hands being unlocked and released.

"Feeling more awake now?"

"Quite the opposite," you hummed blissfully, stretching as if just waking up from a dream.

"It's time to get up, baby," Hyunjin's voice had slipped back into his usual gentle tone and you felt him take your hands to help you sit up, handing you your clothes. You dressed on autopilot, a dreamy smile playing on your face and you automatically took your place by Hyunjin's side, linking hands.

"I'll walk you back upstairs," Felix offered and you smiled at him. The two men carried the equipment in comfortable silence up the stairs until you ended up back in the atrium of the club.

"Do you want to stay for drinks?"

Hyunjin kissed you knuckles with the question.

"I think I'm done for the night, but I do want to know when we can play with Felix again," you giggled cheekily.

"You liked Felix that much, huh? Careful, I might get a little jealous," Hyunjin teased, tugging on your collar.

"Call me any time, you have my number," Felix elbowed Hyunjin playfully, then waved goodbye as he winked at you.

__________________________________

In the comfortable darkness at the back of the cab home, yours and Hyunjin's faces were illuminated by the preview screen on his camera.

"We really made you into a masterpiece, babe," Hyunjin whispered to you, placing a kiss just beneath your ear.

[hwan-g]

route 66. BANG CHAN — 방찬

pair. dom!chan x f. reader | warnings. language, filthy talk, degradation, rough sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, slight daddy kink, angst, anger issues, manipulation, mentions of violence | word count. 2.8k | for @skzseasons !S week

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @hyuneater, @lix-ables, @byskzfilms, @danyxthirstae01, @enluc <3

synopsis. you should’ve known, the moment you’d entered route 66, you’d be his. chan isn’t a generous man—he doesn’t share well.

He spots you across the room.

Chan would find you with his eyes closed, amongst a hundred people. Your body called out to him like nothing else. Many times, he’s had you underneath him, begging—for him, for what he can give you. For what he does give you, without a second thought, all you want, if you behave.

And you do. You’re such a good girl for him, every time. But you’re not his.

He can feel his anger burning in ripples through him—that motherfucker is with you, his hands on you like he has a goddamn claim on you. Chan was sure—if it came down to it, you’d drop that fucking prick in a heartbeat. What Chan also knows—he’s not good for you. He’d never let you ruin your life to be with someone like him.

He averts his gaze, the thought of you being in his club, his blood, sweat and tears, with another man driving him fucking insane with need—to fucking ruin you. Show you who the fuck you’re disrespecting.

He averts his gaze, the thought of you being in his club, his blood, sweat and tears, with another man driving him fucking insane with need—to fucking ruin you. Show you who the fuck you’re disrespecting.

He averts his gaze, the thought of you being in his club, his blood, sweat and tears, with another man driving him fucking insane with need—to fucking ruin you. Show you who the fuck you’re disrespecting.

Minho was working the bar, making drinks silently, studying his boss, but most importantly—his friend. You’d gone earlier to greet him and pay for two Long Island’s. He knew you brought your boy toy on purpose, had witnessed the fight between you and Chan two weeks ago.

You both were extremely possessive, hotheaded, and would probably never be a complete match. But, fuck, if you two weren’t entirely crazy about each other. The fact you’d come to tease Chan like this, knowing exactly how he’d react, was proof enough.

His boss neared the counter, keeping an eye on the customers. If the customers were you and no one else. Still, Minho couldn’t fault him. This game had been going on for way too long—one of you was bound to crack. He just wishes he doesn’t have to involuntarily witness the inevitable explosion.

“Make sure she doesn’t get too drunk,” Chan growls over the music to the purple haired man.

Minho nods, mixing a Cosmo. “Cool it, yeah? We don’t need a repeat. You got a full house tonight.”

Chan glares at him but says nothing. His eyes say it all—just do as you’re fucking told. Minho chuckles, amused.

“I hope she breaks your fucking heart, Bang Chan,” he mutters, staring straight at him. His friend could fool everyone else around him, but Minho knew him the best of all.

You’d destroyed him for any other girl. He’d never get over you, no matter how many times you screwed his heart over. Because he didn’t even have to admit to it—Chan had it fucking bad. Before you, he couldn’t seem to give a single fuck about any of these other women. As soon as you stepped foot on Route, he was done for. Absolutely. It was written all over him.

Chan was scheming. How to get that leech off you? He’d have to get Changbin involved, probably say some shit to get him all riled up. All he needed was to get you alone. Bury his cock in you and have you scream his name. He’d been aching—to hear it from your mouth, the way your lips wrapped around the sound of it. The thought of it alone, got him rock hard. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed a taste of your cunt; he craved his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs as he fucked you with his tongue.

But you deserved none of that tonight. What you did deserve—a rough fuck against a goddamn wall. Perhaps that would pacify you, make you stop messing with his goddamn mind. His palms were itching for a fight.

A devilish grin spread across his face. Maybe if he beat that little boyfriend of yours to a pulp—maybe then you’d learn not to fuck with him. How fucking dare you come to his club dragging along that scum with you?

Chan wasn’t an unreasonable man. He didn’t just hate him because he warmed your bed every night. No, him and that asshole go way back. His face alone made Chan’s blood boil.

And the fucking way you danced on him. He hadn’t realized how tight his grip on the bar stool was, until the tips of his fingers went numb. Your ass was rubbing all over him, the black tiny fucking dress barely covering anything. You might as well be naked for everyone to see—and you knew it, gave everyone a good fucking show with your wining hips and head thrown back on another man’s chest.

No, Chan may be worth shit all, but he’d never let you get away with something like this. His girl, flashing her panties for strangers? Plump breasts spilling over a microscopic piece of cloth? He’d bruise your fucking ass for that, teach you who’s supposed to be seeing that slutty body of yours.

“Say, Bang Chan, ain’t that your girl?” Changbin nodded over at you. He’d barely switched from door duty—Seungmin was to take over after midnight.

“Does that fucking whore look like she’s anything to me?” He was absolutely seething, barely containing himself from pouncing on you, and dragging you away.

Then, he could kill that son of a bitch on the spot, something he should’ve done the first time he crossed him.

Changbin sensed the murderous intent. “Do you want me to start some shit, man? Just say the word, boss.”

Chan put his fist over his mouth, weighing his options. He’s a calculating man first and foremost, but safe to say, all reason goes out the window with you. And what was he risking, anyway? Nothing. He owns this fucking place—whatever he says goes. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. Isn’t that why he refused to work for others?

“Fuck it,” he grunted, lunging forward. Changbin followed, lifting his sleeves up, and cracking his knuckles.

They hadn’t fought like this in a while.

Chan was first to throw the punch, his friend holding your boyfriend down as Chan shot his hand out, forcing you behind him. You screamed, hitting his back, pulling on his shirt, scratching the sides of his face.

“Let him go, Chan! What the fuck?”

All the motherfucker did was fall on the floor, moaning like a little bitch. What could you possibly see in him? He’s a weak, pathetic excuse of a man—a good for nothing piece of shit, that needs to be taught a fucking lesson.

Felix is in a fucking wheelchair because of him, and his piss poor driving skills. He didn’t even have the decency to fucking stop. A hit and run. When he got identified, all Chan could see was red.

And now he gets to have you? What if he hurts you too? That. That he couldn’t possibly risk.

A crowd had gathered around them, phones out, shouting encouraging exclaims, eating the whole thing up. Chan spit on the bloody man’s face, leaving Changbin to finish him off.

Turning to look at you, your blood froze. His eyes had gone completely black, the red neon lights hitting him sharply, giving the illusion of the Devil. Handsome, deadly.

“Is this who you want?” he raised his voice at you, gripping your arm tightly. “Do you even know what kind of a man he is?”

Your brows furrowed, anger flashing through you like lightning. “He can’t be worse than you! Let me fucking go,” you snapped, trying to pry your arm off his fingers.

Was it… hurt? Something passed in his eyes, before he chuckled— a dry, humorless thing, and dragged you away from the crowd, turning left to the hall where the bathrooms are located.

Your back hit the wall, as he slammed you on it. Chan towered over you, his broad shoulders menacing in a way that made you press your thighs together. His gaze swept your entire body, checking for any injuries. Slowly, his fingers lifted the strap of your dress back to its place, his eyes slowly locking with yours.

His breathing was hard, and labored, sweat coating his forehead, light brown hair sticking to it. A vision that crawled its way up from Hell. You smiled up at it, hand lifting to rest on his cheek. He saw it, then.

The intent. Your plan had worked.

“You fucking slut,” he leered.

“I have to say, Bang Chan—you’re quite predictable.”

A warning, then. His entire body alert, closing around you, fingers stripping the necklace from your neck, his hand replacing it, squeezing exactly right. His gaze was intoxicating, piercing through you with lethal need. He was looking to hurt.

“Take that shit off,” he snickered. “It’s fucking fake. If you were my girl…” his jaw tightened.

His hands left your skin for a moment, unclasping the chain around his neck, before passing it over and around your neck, letting it fall just above your breasts. Real silver, crystals adorning parts of it.

“Wear it for me, will you? Fifteen thousand, right there. Let me see you.”

Your arms hooped around his thick neck, bringing him closer. His hands fell to your waist, groping, eyes undressing. For a moment, you thought he’d turn all soft for you, lean in for a kiss. Instead, he smirked. And turned you around, pressing your face against the wall, fingers buried in your hair.

“Ask me,” he growled in your ear. “Ask me to fuck you, baby girl. I know you like it rough. How about I take you over his fucking corpse, let him hear the way your scream for my fucking cock? Huh?”

You laughed manically, immobile and loving it. His hands bared your ass to him, dainty panties ripped off your body in an instant. You moaned at his manhandling, wanting more of it, feeling your pussy getting wet for him. Chan could have you in the palm of his hand if he wanted to. The fact that he was allowing you the freedom to mock him, must play into the little fantasy he has of you being a fucking whore, and him the victim that fell prey to your witch ways.

You were terrible, you never denied it. You were a cheater, and a manipulator. You’d also never felt so strongly about anyone else before in your life. The way you feel about Chan—its gasoline. It’s a lit matchstick in a gas station.

“Fucking answer me, you goddamn bitch.” He landed a slap, and then another, relentless, each touch stinging. But welcome—so very welcome.

“You hate me, don’t you? How I make you feel? Show me, daddy,” your tone was innocent, but your intention was anything but. You clenched around nothing, your cunt feeling entirely too empty.

“Oh, keep fucking testing me, baby girl, I will rip you open.” His mouth ghosted over your ear, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms.

You knew the name would send him over the edge. It’s what you wanted.

The music drowned out everything again. Chan looked over at the main floor, mood lights turning purple, the hall then, by default, getting darker as he grabbed his leaking cock, pumping himself to the shadow of your semi naked body. His hand kept you in place, thoughts rushing in a jumbled mess. He wanted to tear you apart, make you feel the pain you’ve put him through, make you understand—that you belong to him, that your cunt was made for him, that he needs to be between your legs like he needs oxygen to breathe. But also—

That you should stop this, now. That he meant every word he said. That chain is yours now, if you take him, if you’re up for the challenge as he thinks you are. You’re a wildcat, wanting nothing more than to play. He could give that to you. He could give you a lot of things.

With no warning, he put his hand over your stomach, bending you so that your ass was flash against his shaft. Then, in one swift move, he bottomed out in your cunt, hand getting lost in your hair again. And you felt like you always felt—pure fucking paradise, your pussy enveloping him, your hands scrambling to hold onto the wall, knees shaking. He could feel everything; your wetness dripping down your thighs, the way you screamed as his cock teared through your entrance. His movements grew quicker, sharper, drilling into you, fingers digging into the sides of your hips, fucking you dumb, the stretch feeling amazing, for him, for him, for him—

“Say my fucking name,” he demanded leaning on you, lips on your shoulder blade. “Look at you—a fucking mess. My fucking mess.”

“Make me cum, please, please make me cum, fuck—please.”

He tells himself—it’s because you said please, it’s because you asked nicely, it’s because you can cheat, and patronize, and ruin every inch of him, but the trust you have on him for this one thing, the way he could always bring you release, the way he’d carved in you—he couldn’t betray that. But your brat behavior wouldn’t just pass over his head, he had to show you he wasn’t to be messed with. Especially by you, especially because it’s you.

“Say—my— name, (Y/N),” he paused all movement, hovering over your body. “Say it, or I’m walking away.”

You huffed, your limbs shaking, and backed your hips. One hand came down hard on your ass, the other gripping the nape of your neck. You stilled, heart leaping out of your chest. You were trapped. Completely.

“Chan—please.”

“Please what?”

“You’re going to make me spell it out?” You half turned your head, glancing behind you in desperation. Tears stained your cheeks, already missing the friction of his cock.

“If I have to, baby. I got all night.” His tip teased you, slowly slipping in and out of you in an excruciating pace, that was so unlike him.

“Fuck you,” you spat, fighting his hold.

“Your boyfriend might be looking for you, sweetheart. Should I call him over, hm? Show him how to fuck a whore like you?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want. Just move,” you screamed, stomping your heel, crying out.

He did. He did, because he, himself, could not stand it anymore. He resumed his speed like he’d never stopped pounding into you. And it was bliss, it was mercy, it was fucking in its truest form, filthy and sweaty, bodies smacking together, taking and taking, pulling and pushing, begging and pleading and goddamn your body, you fucking bitch, you have me by the balls. He wanted to kill you for the way you made him feel, his mind lost, half of him gone, digging, digging, deeper, faster, harder. Chan acted on pure animal instinct, his own release so close he could taste it, so he pushed, and by that point you were crying, sobbing, an incoherent string of words escaping your mouth, give it to me, you have to cum, Chan, please, I can’t, I fucking can’t, I’m fucking done—

“(Y/N).”

Both of you turned to the voice, as you came, lights blurring your vision, ears deaf, faces bewildered. A bloody, bruised version of your boyfriend stood there, shocked, horrified.

Chan pulled out of you, tucking himself back in his pants, as a guttural laugh tore itself through his throat. You, on the other hand, stared at the pathetic man looking over at the two of you, and where there should’ve been shame, and guilt—there was none. Instead, your gaze fell back on Chan, the way his hand brushed his hair back, nonchalant, completely calm.

You laughed, then, as well.

“Take that as a last warning, yeah?” Chan neared your, what could only now be assumed to be, ex-boyfriend. He cowered in fear, but there was still clear anger. Understandable, but not enough. Not next to Chan.

Not everyone witnesses their girlfriend being fucked raw after they’ve been beaten to near death.

You and him would be toxic; you’d be terrible for each other. There’d be a lot of fights, and neither of you would back down from them. Your friends will hate him, and his friends—well, they’ve seen worse. But in that way, you work. In between the cracks, in dark rooms. You’re shadows, recognizing the worst in each other, and accept it as is.

Chris couldn’t wait to figure you out. Not your body, but you, as you speak to him. What makes you, beyond sex. He was fucking screwed, and he couldn’t care less.

“Don’t fucking dare mess with what’s mine again. You hear me?”

[multifandomfantasies]

own me (18+)

changbin x y/n smut

warnings: first time anal (y/n receiving; both are very dramatic about it), anal plug, dom!changbin and sub!y/n, possessiveness, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, masturbation, y/n gets referred to as “baby” and “toy”. y/n has a vulva, no pronouns used.

word count: 3k

🥵 written for @skzseasons’ Hot Dom Summer 🥵

when borrowing changbin’s laptop in hopes of finding a couple of pictures of the two of you that have magically disappeared from your phone accidentally leads you to a collection of downloaded porn there’s only one thing you can think about: you could have caught on earlier.

changbin has obsessed been with backshots from the day you starting sleeping together, always manhandling you onto your hands and knees at a certain point whenever he fucks you. when you do it in front of a mirror you can see him looking down, focused on the way his cock moves in and out of your pussy or maybe the way your ass jiggles when his hips slam against it, positively staring as he pumps his hips and groans to himself. changbin has been an amazing fuck from the start - passionate, assertive and just rough enough when he needs to be - but you’ve always felt like he’s holding back on you somehow, despite the intensity and energy he brings.

and still. finding out that changbin has a special liking for anal of all things somehow surprises you for a second - then everything falls into place when you keep scrolling down the files upon files of porn on his laptop. you click on a couple of thumbnails, scrolling through the clips and playing a couple of seconds of each one. you’ve watched porn before of course, but something about this, about having access to changbin’s favorite videos makes it feel different. it makes your face burn with something akin to embarrassment and pride when you realize that the people in those clips kind of look like you or sound like you - voice turning breathy and shaky when they get stretched out and fucked into the mattress by their broad dom, camera focusing on the thick cock moving in and out of the tight ring of their ass while their pussy remains untouched.

of course it’s not a big deal. it’s not an interest that’s very out there or uncommon and it’s definitely not something changbin has to share with you. trying anal with him just hasn’t crossed your mind so far, satisfied with all the other things you’ve been doing - but now you want to indulge him nevertheless.

if you’re being completely honest, you want to indulge yourself too, considering how much the videos did for you when you imagined yourself and changbin in the actors’ places.

you decide it’s the most fun to surprise changbin with a butt plug - you wearing it for him and giving him the option to replace it with his cock, if he wanted to.

ordering it online and waiting for it to arrive makes you giddy, the thought of what might happen soon turning you on so much that you’re barely able to keep your little secret from changbin at times.

when the package gets delivered only days later - perfectly timed, you know changbin will be home in an hour or so - you already feel your heartbeat drumming in your ears with excitement when you open your little gift uo up, feeling the weight of the plug in your hand. it’s smaller than changbin of course, but something prettily shaped and nice enough to work yourself open a bit for both of your convenience.

you waste no time to jump into the shower, thinking about how excited changbin will be as you slowly stretch yourself open with your fingers, then slowly work your new toy in. it’s not perfect, the mixture of lube and water making everything almost too slippery, but you feel like it’s the cleanest this way and the warm water drizzling from the showerhead above helping you relax the ring of muscle you usually don’t play with.

you let your free hand roam your body, pinching your chest and rubbing at your clit to make the stretch easier. it’s not difficult for you to enjoy the process of it, your stiffened bud throbbing benath your wet palm every time you pass over it, imagining changbin being the one to touch you instead.

you end up making yourself cum with the showerhead when you’ve fully worked the plug inside of you, already bordering in desperation just from thinking about how much you might be able to bring out changbin’s dominant side tonight.

you almost can’t contain yourself when changbin’s finally home, shifting in your seat all throughout casual conversations and dinner until he takes the hint and gets you into the bedroom.

you’re making out half naked now, you pressing yourself to changbin’s broad chest like a cat, whimpering when he grips your thighs to shift you closer to him.

“you’re so needy today,” changbin hums against your lips. “are you wet for me too? let me check.”

you obediently move your panties to the side and let changbin slide two of his fingers through your folds with practiced calmness, almost like he’s probing you. he lets out a satisfied groan, moving to grope your ass, just shy of where the toy is nestles inside of you and you feel your whole body jolt. changbin slowly traces your crack over your underwear, pushing down ever so slightly until he fully presses up against the plug inside of you, unknowingly shifting it a bit and making you breathlessly whisper his name.

changbin goes quiet for a second.

“what’s this?” he asks, voice rough. you just bite your bottom lip and blink up at him, coy.

“can i… ?”

you nod and changbin turns you around, bending you over the bed and yanking your panties to your ankles with one strong pull. when he sees the plug nestled between your cheeks he sucks in a breath through his teeth, using his thumb to slowly trace where your rim stretches around the unyielding material.

“i just want to you to fuck me there too. you keep telling me i’m your toy, but you don’t even want to use all my holes to play?” you pout, trying to get him riled up.

you know changbin is excited just from the way his voice pitchs when he’s asking you if it’s okay, if it’s really okay, making you laugh as you repeatedly give him your consent.

his eyes sparkle when he lays you on your back with a pillow under your hips, wasting no time to gently remove the plug from your ass - elicting a groan from the both of you when you clench around nothing - then slowly stretching you with four fingers and lots of lube, before letting you roll a condom on his straining erection, almost curling against his stomach in his anticipation of fucking your ass.

“turn around,” changbin groans, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you eagerly roll onto your stomach for him, hastily wrestling the pillow out from beneath your hips to hug it to your chest as you prop yourself up on your forearms and knees, arching your back in a complete offering of yourself to changbin.

his hands quickly find your skin again, warmly smoothing from your lower back over your behind and roaming your upper thighs before settling on your asscheeks, spreading you open just a bit as he runs his condom clad erection from your wet cunt to the prepped hole above, not pushing in yet but grinding forward further until his thighs meet the back of your legs and the entire length of his cock is resting against you, nestled between your cheeks hard and unyielding.

you feel your rim clench in anticipation, tightenig and relaxing with your heartbeat.

“relax,” changbin whispers.

“just fuck me, changbin,” you demand, whiny. “please, please, please.”

you suck in your breath through your teeth when you feel the tip of changbin’s cock breaches you, stretching out your rim for the first time with a dull, welcomed ache. he pushes in slowly but steadily, huffing and groaning under his breath while his strong hands hold you in place to make sure your tight hole takes every inch he gives you.

with your small gasps spurring him on, changbin pushes in without a break until he’s balls deep, almost whimpering your name when he bottoms out inside of your tight canal.

you always love the way changbin’s cock feels, stretching you out just right - enough to be a challenge, not enough to be a pain - but it’s so much now, the sensations foreign and slightly uncomfortable, but arousing in a way you can barely wrap your head around. something about letting changbin have your ass too, especially now that you know how much he’s been wanting this, makes it feel special - almost romantic in a way.

still, when changbin pulls back to deliver his first real thrust you lock up around him, suddenly scared of him shifting inside of you, because the movement will inevitably be followed by an uncomfortable sting.

sensing that you’re struggling, changbin stills with a grunt, giving you time to adjust.

he doesn’t move his hips, but he slowly pulls your upper body towards his front until you’re kneeling upright just like him, holding you to his chest with one arm around your throat while the other one wraps around your middle, his forehead resting against the back of your head.

“so tight, so good,” changbin groans, his hand sneaking lower and lower until his fingertips brush your sensitive clit, his gentle touch making you clench and pulse again, this time from pleasure. “fuck,” changbin curses, a hoarse shout. “fuck, you feel so nice to me. wrap around me so good, you’re made for my cock, hm?”

you whine pathetically in response. changbin palms at your cunt again, a reward and it feels mind-numbingly good, despite it being his obvious distraction from your discomfort. the slightest pressure against your clit, the feeling of being too full, the unescapable stretch of changbin taking you hole for the first time.

when your breathing evens out changbin slowly starts moving again, a careful motion that has him pulling back ever so slightly just to grind his cock forwards again with a gentle roll of his hips, the arm around your middle tightening and a grunt of your name escaping his lips when he presses himself deeper into you again.

“fuck,” he groans, iron grip forcing you close to him with no room to squirm away. “your hole’s perfect, baby.”

his enthusiasm is evident, but changbin’s still holding back, you can feel it in the way he tightly grips your hips, nails digging into your skin with a bruising force, his thighs shaking against yours, sweat building on his chest and transferring to your back despite the lack of intense movement.

“how does it feel for you?” he asks lowly, grinding his cock deep into you again.

you swallow hard, overwhelmed.

“feel so full,” you murmur. there’a still some discomfort there, but you don’t want changbin to stop, especially not now that you’re getting used to him stretching out your rim. “feels nice. feels like you own me.”

changbin hums in appreciation, rubbing slow circles around your clit with three fingers and you swear feel your pussy flooding with the next push of his cock inside of you, pulsing around nothing with quickly rising arousal.

without a warning changbin draws his fingers back and brings them down in a harsh spank to your sticky clit. you whine and clench hard, making changbin let out an almost pained groan, his hips kicking forward hard as a string of your wetness leaks from your pussy and connects from your empty hole to your squirming thigh. changbin does it again, and again, fast rhythmical smacks against your sensitive cunt that make your head spin and have you mewling with sensitivity, embarrassingly close from his harsh treatment.

then, instead of lifting them up to make it sting changbin’s finally pressing his fingers down hard onto your abused clit, rolling it around in harsh circles right after he brings down his last slap. the pressure is enougut to send you headfirst in a reeling orgasm, locking up like a vice around changbin and shaking in his hold as waves of pleasure mount and crash throughout your oversensitive body.

changbin guides you through your high, cradling you against his chest and rubbing at your clit with steady fingers until your hips try to twist away from the overstimulation.

changbin doesn’t let you go just yet, but he slowly lowers you down on all fours again, watching your face collaps into the pillow in front of you with a chuckle. you’re all relaxed now, any remnants of anxiety of changbin fucking your ass that you had left your head with the intensity of your orgasm.

changbin has always liked you the best when you’re like this, pliant and receptive after just one orgasm to butter you up.

“hold still for me,” changbin tells you, knowing you’ll do anything for him now. he’s still gripping your hips too tight, but you can’t help but enjoy the way changbin’s nails dig into your skin, his wanton demand to own you that you’ll be able to trace for the rest of the week.

changbin moves back a bit, then immediately sheathes himself back inside of you, gasping his groans mixing with your heavy breaths when he starts fucking you in earnest. he doesn’t pull back much, only managing short, powerful kicks of his hips that make him grind his cock into you deeply, babbling about how tight you feel, how good you are for him, how you’re his pretty little toy, so good, so perfect for letting him fuck you like that.

between the pace changbin’s building and his exclamations of pleasure you’re enjoying yourself even more than you expected, head positively spinning as you get lost in the pleasure of getting fucked. you barely make oht changbin’s voice when he orders you to touch your clit for him since his hands are preoccupied with holding you down in an iron grip. you weakly move the fingers of your right hand to the sensitive nub between your legs, but it’s too slippery from the way your wetness is smeared all around your cunt and you feel like you’re too sensitive to cum again anyways. you’re unable to overstimulate yourself like changbin usually does, like tells you to now.

“i can’t,” you whine. “s’too much.”

changbin unceremoniously puts one hand flat on the middle of your back pushing you down in an uncomfortable arch as you keeep your ass up for him, the fingers of his other hand finding your clit again.

“i have to do everything for you, hm? such a good toy for me, fuck, but you don’t even know how to play with yourself, h-huh?”

he possessivelyn cups your sensitive pussy in his palm, your clit overly sensitive from the combination not getting as much attention from changbin as it usually would while simultaneously still feeling overstimulated from your last orgasm just minutes ago.

without another warning changbin’s rubbing you just gentle enough to not be considered harsh, moving over your sensitive bundle of nerves from left to right and back again with rough fingers until it gets too much and he’s flinging you into your second high that has your ass pulsing around his cock while your pussy violently clenches and releases around nothing, your stringy arousal leaking from your empty hole over the tips of changbins fingers and into his palm.

changbin freezes up when you tighten around his cock, making him groan and shudder behind you, but he still doesn’t cum.

“fuck,” he groans, when an unexpected aftershock makes you convulse around his cock again, strained and close to his own breaking point, but determined to draw it out for the both of you.

changbin slowly slots his body over yours until his chest presses to your back, not moving his hips just yet even when he’s crouching over you completely, his lips only centimeters away from your ear.

“you came so hard, baby. you like me destroying your ass that much? will you even let me fuck your pussy too?”

you nod weakly, wet cunt positively throbbing at the thought of feeling him inside your other hole too.

changbin straightens himself up again, pulling his cock from your asshole slowly, then hastily taking the condom off. this is well explored territory and changbin knows how much you can take, so he fucks into your unstretched, leaking cunt without restraint, three of his fingers circling around the now stretched out rim of your ass thrusting in time with the movement of his cock, claiming both of your holes at the same time. his free hand moves from a grip on your hips to spanking your asscheeks back around you to tease your clit again, making you moan high and breathless as every nerve ending fizzles with burning hot, all consuming pleasure.

changbin’s almost feral now, hard cock pistoning in and out of your cunt at an unforgiving pace, rolling your clit around with his fingers. you’re struggling to get used to the overwhelming stimulation despite the abundance of your wetness that forms a ring around the bottom of his cock - you love that he’s so crazy for you now, addicted to the way he’s addicted to you and losing your own mind at the sensations he’s making you feel.

changbin sounds delirious when he cums with a shout only minutes later. you don’t fare much better, drooling and crying with the intensity of him filling you up while he’s ruining both of your holes, body shaking weakly when another wave of pleasure engulfs you.

when you’ve caught your breath a bit, changbin slowly retreats, rolling onto his back with a breathless chuckle.

“thank you for this treat. you’re going to be the death of me,” changbin pants, gently pulling you onto his broad chest, placing a soft kiss to your temple and his hand moving to rub at your lower body when you wince from sensitivity. “did i go to hard on you?”

“no, no, you were perfect,” you sigh. “but do not expect to get another go at my ass tomorrow.”

changbin shakes his head with another confident laugh. “oh, we don’t have to worry about that. i’ll still have your other holes at my disposal to keep me satisfied, right?”

[skzseasons]

Hello! I'm having trouble adding my fanfiction to the ao3 collection, because ao3 says it can't find the collection. (Bunnypig18 is the sideblog that I use to participate in the event btw)

hey, sorry about that!! 😊 we opened up the collection now, you should be able to add your work now if you try again

— admin aj 🩹

[bunnypig18]

Make it up to You

Stray Kids/Ateez fic for @skzseasons Hot Dom Summer Event! Prompt: Dom!Skz (AO3 Link)  Relationship: Bang Chan/Choi San Tags: NSFW, Dom!Chan, Sub!San, Choking, Mild Verbal Humiliation, Daddy Kink, Hand Jobs, Teasing, Begging Word Count: 2.4k Summary: Chan feels bad for ruining San’s cardigan. San knows how Chan can make it up to him. A/N: My Stray Kids/Ateez agenda prevails!!! And of course it’s with Chan again, cause Chan is just really shippable with literally anyone and everyone. I have thought a lot about Kingdom recently, so this is after the sports event where Chan stretched San’s cardigan by hanging onto it for dear life lmao Honestly, I’m not very happy with how it turned out. It really is just them being horny af, but yeet yeet, I’m still happy I wrote it Pls enjoy!! Comments and Reblogs are as aways appreciated~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keep reading

[straywrds]

soju

{ 3racha roommates au } → written for the summer event on @skzseasons! thank you for hosting this event! ♡ 《 masterlist 》

—minho x reader (f), jisung x reader (f) —wordcount: 23.1k { ao3 } (honestly I don't know what to say at this point just sorry) —genre: non-idol au, roommates au, explicit smut with plot (18+ work minors DNI) *while the story is part of a collection of one-shots, you do not need to have read the previous work to enjoy & understand this one! —warnings: food/drinking. somewhat mutual pining. dating apps. drunk but consensual sex. unprotected sex. threesome (f, m, m). explicit sexual content: sexting/nudes, voyeurism, kinda soft!dom minho, sub/kind of switch!jisung + jisung is lowkey a creep ngl <3), a safeword is established but not used, use of pet names/names during sex (baby doll, baby, slut, whore), two characters watch porn/hentai, mild gagging (f receiving), teasing/edging, cum swallowing (f), cum eating (m), oral sex (m, f receiving), vaginal fingering/sex, creampie.

The guy has to have been a cat in another lifetime. It’s like Minho never makes a sound when he moves. His cheeks are rosy from the soju and there is a hint of a smile on his delicate lips. The guy is a walking mystery, but you like riddles.

Out of all days, today had to be the one you forgot to grab your umbrella. 

The incessant hammering of the rain against the window of the bus only brought bad omens. A sigh escapes your lips as you fumble into your bag to see if it contains a forgotten hat or anything that could protect you from the rain—unfortunately, it seems like you’re out of luck. You’re left with having to choose between ruining your hair, which you got colored at an expensive salon just yesterday, or ruining the brand new silk blouse you wore at work today. 

You let out another deeper sigh, turning your gaze back towards the outside world, watching the dark gray sky turn black, the city lights, and the tiny droplets of water running down the window. 

It doesn’t take very long before you are bored from traffic and the small crowd on the bus, so you pull out your phone from your bag to see if anything is worth checking out on it, just to pass the time. Immediately a few notifications from work emails grab your attention. Thankfully, you realize they are not urgent and can wait at least tomorrow, as today is Friday. At least, there’s that going for you. 

But once you’ve cleared these notifications, one that you got earlier appears on the screen, making your heart skip a few beats. Making your heart sink in your chest a little.

Channie: hey! how’s it going back home? hope the guys are doing alright by you and not pretending to forget how to vacuum floors. work alright? still working extra I bet. maybe don’t do too much of that yeah? things are good here. i see the ocean every day. miss you. take care ok 

It was never a thing and it could not have been a thing anyway. You and him. He was too dedicated to his work and felt guilty real quick if he couldn’t devote all of his focus to his job at any given time. It was never a thing, Chan and you, except for the few times you fucked. It had been good every time, but both of you knew better than to make it anything other than that. 

Not that you didn’t like him. Chan. He had always been a little bit more your type than the others. And he was nice, respectful (maybe a little too much, even) and the sex was great. And you had maybe, just maybe, thought that he would want to commit a bit more at some point—except that he had taken a job in California. 

So you had gotten the answer to a question you hadn’t even dared to ask. 

Thunder rolls over you as you exit the bus and race your way home. Only two blocks are separating the bus stop from your building and usually, it is a lovely walk after a long workday. Just enough to unwind. But today you forgot your umbrella. So today, you’re half-jogging, half slipping your way home on the soaked sidewalks, ignoring anyone who looks at you funny. You simply do not have it in you to give a shit. 

But you reach your building, bringing with you a small puddle of water on your way to the elevators, your arms crossed over your chest, keeping your head low. Today was not a good day to wear this outfit, but there’s this new guy on your team and he’s quite attractive… 

Hence the outfit, hence you thanking all of the gods you can name as the elevator doors open and you find it empty. Your bra is visible from under your drenched shirt. 

You decide you’ll take a warm shower and wrap yourself up in a cozy outfit to spend a wonderful night with your TV. 

But then you make it into your apartment, and there is a pair of shoes that you don’t recognize near the door. 

From the current shoe line-up, you also figure out that the person these shoes belong to is the only one in the apartment currently. 

This, the shoes by the door, has always been the best way for you to find out what the situation was in this apartment. Because there’s almost always some kind of situation. It keeps you on your toes, of course—but there are days when you think you pay too much rent to be dealing with so many situations. 

You keep promising yourself you’ll move out anyway. But you just never get around to it. This is a spacious house in a nice building—four bedrooms but enough space to accommodate everyone isn’t something you see every day. And you kind of like your roommates, well, you used to… 

You sigh, glancing towards the shoes again. Whose could it be?

Changbin is out of town for the week for a work-related trip, so you know these shoes can’t possibly be his, either. 

For a while, Chan’s room remained unoccupied. It was difficult at first. You’d be walking by it and seeing, many times every day, that it was just so empty. A bare mattress, closed curtains. Chan had left some things—his least favorite books, a couple of phone chargers, a wireless speaker. You may have been fucking him but he was your friend before that, and you missed him more than you expected you would.

You’re alright now. This is the kind of thing you just get over. You still miss him, Chan, and his soft smile, the way it felt when he kissed you. But he seems happy in California, and you’re not unhappy here—so it’s okay. It has to be, anyway.

But the rent being quite high, there had been no other choice but to let someone else take Chan’s room. 

“Jisung?” you call out loud, taking off your own rain-soaked shoes to leave them to dry. Your feet feel terrible after having to run in those. You can’t believe Jisung bought shoes like those—they really don’t fit his general style. “Ji?” 

“Our dear friend got caught into something at work,” a familiar voice replies from the adjacent room—the kitchen. Familiar and smooth like honey. “He’ll be back shortly.”

“Hyunjin?” You make a face, looking back and forth at the shoes—which you now see are totally Hyunjin’s style—and the hallway separating you from the kitchen. “How the hell did you get in here?” 

Hyunjin appears in the hallway, holding a plate full of food—most of which you recognize as your food—and a beer—which is your beer. He flashes his bashful smile at you and makes his way to the couch to apparently resume watching a drama while snacking on your hard-boiled eggs and veggies. With your mom’s kimchi. 

“Minho gave me the code,” Hyunjin replies with a slight shrug.

Minho. As in, the one who took Chan’s room after he left, and you didn’t mind at first. Until the man started making himself very comfortable. Naturally, he pays for his part of the rent and he’s good friends with Jisung and Changbin, but you feel like there is some sort of hierarchy when it comes to roommates. As in, the guy that just got in shouldn’t act like he owns the fucking place. 

You knew Minho casually from all the times he visited the guys before moving in. He keeps to himself a lot while also being the loudest motherfucker around and somehow, it just makes sense. You had nothing against him. But he did not need to act like he was king in this apartment, and the rest of you are peasants.

“Minho gave you the code?” you repeat, not even trying to sound like you’re not annoyed. This is the kind of stuff that should be discussed in the group chat beforehand.

“Yeah, the guys said it’d be okay if I stay over the weekend,” Hyunjin explains, his gaze lingering on you for longer than you’d like, and this is when you recall you currently look like shit due to your rainy adventures. You try to smooth out your hair as best as possible and cross your arms over your chest, all under Hyunjin’s eyes. “They’re fixing up stuff in my building and it’s so loud. I’m in Changbin’s room.” 

You’re in the living room, watching a drama on my streaming account and drinking my beer and eating my mom’s kimchi. But you don’t want to stir shit up. You like Hyunjin. Hell, you wish he had taken Chan’s room instead of Minho—he’s a lot quieter. He reads, he paints, he writes. A quiet guy. Fuck, you wish he were your roommate. 

“Did Minho tell you it was okay to eat whatever was in the fridge, too?” you ask, making your way towards the kitchen so that Hyunjin can no longer see you in your terrible state. 

“Actually, yeah, was it not okay?” you hear the hesitation in Hyunjin’s voice, even from another room.

“It’s fine, whatever.” You drop it. Again, it’s not Hyunjin’s fault if he is friends with Minho and if Minho lives with you. “See you, Hyunjin.” 

You hear a vague response from the living room as you cross the apartment to get to your room. On your way there, you walk past Minho’s bedroom door, which is always closed. And locked. 

The guy is a walking mystery. You’ve been living with him for three whole months now, his bedroom only separated from yours by a not-so-soundproof wall, and you know nothing about him except that he likes to watch anime and mixes the best drink you’ve ever had—green apple vodka in Sprite, with a dash of lime juice. When you or anyone else tries to replicate it, it’s never quite as good. About this, Minho only has one thing to say, which is, “None of you bitches are me,” and he always says that with this crazy laugh of his. 

You grab your towel and head for the bathroom, deciding you deserve a nice shower—it should help soothe the sore neck you always get at the end of long weeks. And you could really use a thorough combing of your hair. 

Your calming lofi playlist is interrupted mid-shower, as you are rinsing out the conditioner from your hair, by a couple of notifications on your phone. You quickly shake your hands in the air to dry them off a little before grabbing your phone. It better be Lee fucking Minho apologizing for letting a whole dude into the apartment without your permiss— 

But, no, it is not. It’s that same guy from the dating app you should have deleted but never did. The very app on which you once accidentally sent nudes to Chan… which led to whatever it was you guys had. Actually, it was the most dick the app had ever gotten you, as it seems to be crowded mostly with horny idiots. Or maybe you’re just picky.

titsl0v3rb0i69: hey :)  titsl0v3rb0i69: have a nice weekend! what are u doing tonight? wanna chat? 

Now—you’ve been quite lonely since Chan left. And not just in the not-getting-dicked-down way, just lonely. He was the one you were closest to in the apartment, and a lot of your friends have been busy with their lives just as much as you have been, so very little catching up could occur. 

But there is this one guy on the app, who you’ve been chatting with for a long while. He’s technically the one responsible for the accident that led to you and Chan becoming… whatever you had been before he left. He’s not the worst at holding a conversation, as long as you send him a picture of your tits once in a while. In return, he texts you through all of the ways you make him feel, and how you make him hard. It helps get you off. It helps feel less lonely. He really does love tits. 

you: in the shower right now. 

You press Send with an amused smile on your face, putting your phone back on the little shelf where it’s safe from the water, knowing full well you’ve started something with this very short text message. You don’t even intend on indulging titsl0v3rb0i69 for that long—you’re tired and it seems like the apartment is about to be crowded—but there’s something undeniably satisfying in knowing you probably just made his dick hard. 

titsl0v3rb0i69: ur a tease  titsl0v3rb0i69: are u really not gonna send a pic? 

You scoff while reading the texts but you also don’t mind sending the pictures. They’re always anonymous anyway—you never show your face, except for your mouth, sometimes—and they’re a good distraction. So you take the pictures, nothing too elaborate, just two shots of your tits, really, but with some soapy water and foam dripping on your skin, you reckon titsl0v3rb0i69 will enjoy the view.

titsl0v3rb0i69: oh baby wish that was my cum on ur tits  titsl0v3rb0i69: would u let me cum on ur tits please

This quick response elicits a certain tingling in your core, but not enough to act upon it, and certainly not enough to pursue texting this stranger for too long. 

titsl0v3rb0i69: please titsl0v3rb0i69: i’m sure u would love it. my cock in your mouth, i’ll fuck it so good. u have such a nice mouth. but i’ll blow my load on ur tits babe. please? 

At least, he says please. You wonder what that’s like, to have someone actually wrapped around your finger like this, ready to beg you… But this is just an app. He doesn’t even feel real, most of the time. 

you: maybe. enjoy the pics! See you! 

titsl0v3rb0i69: please wait i’m so hard 

But you close the app and even mute notifications from it. You’re not in the mood to hear about the way he’s stroking his cock right now, but you know he’ll tell you all about it later if you ask him. When everyone in the apartment is asleep. When you feel comfortable pulling out your brand new bullet vibrator from its hiding place—the vibrator you paid a lot of money for, based on the fact that it is advertised as ultra-quiet. 

You do not need your new roommate to know what you do at night. The guy is a walking mystery, and you don’t really trust him anyway.

After your shower, you put on comfortable clothes and join Hyunjin in the living room. The TV is turned off and he is simply scrolling through apps on his phone, so you make small talk with him. You’ve been sitting on the couch for barely more than five minutes when Minho enters the apartment, holding a bag of groceries in one hand, and an umbrella in the other.

“Hey,” Hyunjin tells him while you fold your legs underneath you, trying to decide if you’re going to be angry at your roommate or not in the end. “Did you find it?”

“Nah.” Minho nonchalantly nods at you as his greeting and heads for the kitchen after leaving his shoes near the door, with yours and Hyunjin’s. Yours are still soaked. “Got soju instead.” 

“Dammit,” Hyunjin sighs as he pushes himself up to follow his coworker and friend to the kitchen. “I really wanted one.” 

You don’t even need to know what they’re talking about to understand—you know this is about Minho’s signature drink, the one with green apple vodka, which he named The Mistake. 

And, truth be told, you would have loved to indulge in this sweet and sour pleasure… but soju would have to do. If Minho wanted to share anyway. 

You let the other two catch up in the kitchen while you unwind on the couch, debating whether you should return to your room or not. But you haven’t had dinner yet, and could use some company. Fortunately, Jisung comes back from work at the same time, which usually means that you’ll have a friendly presence in the apartment from now on. He, too, leaves his shoes and umbrella on the rug, but he offers you a warm smile.

“Hey,” he says. “Shitty weather, right?” 

“A warm shower really helps,” you reply, getting up from the sofa to maybe help in the kitchen, if not to eat dinner faster. “I feel much better now.” 

Jisung offers a stiff nod as a response and walks away without saying anything. So much for a friendly presence. You hear him discuss with the guys quickly but then he does follow your advice and goes to take a shower.

So you make your way to the kitchen. Minho is busy slicing meat while Hyunjin is stirring something on the stove. It already smells nice in the apartment. Your eyes linger on the rice cooker a little, as you’re really hungry, before shifting on Minho who’s very focused on his task, his fingers working skillfully to create perfect slices of meat. 

“Don’t just stand there, make yourself useful maybe?” Minho says, and it startles you because he didn’t let it show at all that he noticed your presence in the first place. 

Your roommate pauses his slicing only to gesture towards the cucumbers a little farther on the counter. 

“You want to eat all my food but you don’t even help prepare it,” Minho sighs as you’re pulling out a knife, seriously contemplating what it is you will slice with it. “What a terrible roommate you are.” You hear the humor in his voice—it’s subtle, but it’s there. You’ve learned to recognize his different moods, or, well, you like to think you have.

You know that he’s in a good mood when he talks, anyway. Otherwise, Minho just shuts down and locks himself in his room. Still, a complete stranger would have been offended by the way Minho spoke to you just then—but people who know him just get it.

“Literally shut up,” you reply, jokingly pointing the knife towards him as you stand next to Minho and grab a cutting board from the cupboard. “You told Hyunjin to eat my food!” 

You see Minho suppress a smile as he keeps slicing the beef. Behind you, Hyunjin chuckles, leaning against the stove. 

“Anybody know how Chan’s doing these days?” he asks, his stirring of the sauce in the pot becoming increasingly lazier. “I swear, he never texts. He must be too busy.” 

“He texted me today,” you reply casually, mostly focused on slicing the cucumbers right—if they’re not to Minho’s taste, he won’t hesitate to mention it. “He said things were good. He enjoys the ocean.”

Minho is all done with the slicing of the meat and he brings it over to the stove, but he scoffs at your response while pulling a pan from one of the shelves. You look up, watching him pour oil in the pan with a smug expression on his face, and yet, his dark, cat-like eyes are unreadable. The guy is a walking mystery, for real. 

“Yes, Minho?” you drop the knife, just in case, so you don’t get charged with murder. “Anything you wish to say?” 

“Of course Chan would text you, is all.” Minho shrugs and carefully places the meat on the pan to cook it. “He doesn’t have time to text us, his friends of many years, but he texts you. Not that it’s surprising…”

Hyunjin is gracious about it—he really tries to pretend that his chuckle was in fact a short fit of cough and he even pulls his phone from his pocket to give you some space, but you feel warmth on your cheeks. You understand the implication behind Minho’s words very well. 

The kitchen is small, but it has plenty of shelving and storage space. You like this kitchen even if you rarely have time to cook all on your own—it’s always more fun to do it with others, anyway. Well, maybe not when they make fun of you, but… 

Your gaze, out of habit, travels all the way to a shelf not far from the sink. It’s more of a decorative shelf but decorative as in useless junk. It’s full of trinkets of all kinds. One, in particular, stands out—a pig, made of porcelain, with big eyes and a wide smile. It’s quite frightening, but it was a gift from Felix to Changbin, and Changbin adamantly refuses to put it in his room, claiming the thing is haunted. It’s so ugly you might just believe it. 

But that’s not what catches your eyes, no. Not far on that shelf, there is an empty bottle of American Whiskey. It’s been empty for a while, but the bottle itself seemed too valuable to throw away, as it had been given to Chan after he finally got the promotion he so badly wanted at work. So it’s there. And every time you see it, you’re reminded of what you did with Chan when the both of you were drunk on this whiskey. 

When you look away, you see that Minho was watching you stare at the bottle. His eyes are still unreadable, but he raises an eyebrow at you just slightly, and you just know. You know for sure that he knows what had been going on between you and his friend, despite your best efforts to keep it completely private, even to Jisung and Changbin, your very own roommates. He’s hinted at it before, but he’s making it quite obvious tonight.

“Chan was asking me a question about something too, that’s why he texted me specifically,” you lie, hoping to soften the blow, somehow. Hoping to alleviate some of that embarrassment that you feel spreading in you. “But that’s none of your business, is it?” 

“If you say so, baby doll.” 

Ah. So Minho decided to be that kind of a pain in the ass tonight—you know he’s in a good mood when he calls you like that. You know he just enjoys getting a reaction out of you, any reaction, and torturing you over it, so you’ve stopped giving him what he wanted. You just keep a straight face without saying anything. 

Instead, you return to your task—slicing the cucumbers, in silence, not letting Minho see the way he affected you. The guy may be mysterious and all, but you see right through him—he enjoys playing his little mind games. Except you don’t mind playing a little, too.

“Pass me the kimchi, will you, baby doll?” 

You pass him the kimchi. It’s your mom’s kimchi, but you’re happy to share, happier than you were before when you found Hyunjin snacking on it. But maybe that’s because you’ve had a few drinks. You offer him the same smile as you would have if Minho had called you by your name. 

Neither Hyunjin nor Jisung seems bothered by Minho’s particularly relentless teasing tonight—everyone who knows him is just used to it. If anything, they might be relieved that you’re the victim tonight instead of one of them. About it, Chan had once told you that it’s Minho’s love language. If he hates you, he doesn’t engage. If he’s indifferent, he doesn’t engage either. 

“We’re almost out,” Minho points out as he’s pouring the last of the soju from the bottle. 

“Drink up,” you offer, pushing yourself up, glad to find a good reason to step away for a few moments. “I’ll go get some, babe.” You pat Minho’s head the same way you would a dog’s, softly, affectionately, but with a smug expression on your face that nobody can see. You’re a little tipsy from the drinks, which helps make you bolder, as you usually just let Minho be Minho and pay him no mind. 

You leave the living room where the four of you are sharing dinner around the coffee table—you and Minho on the couch, Hyunjin and Jisung on piles of pillows on the floor—and head for the kitchen. You take your time, listening to the boys talking from here. They’re talking about work, as usual. They all hold important positions in their company, after all, and rarely indulge in relaxing evenings such as tonight. 

You’re in no hurry to go back. The soju has made your mind foggy, and you’re starting to feel happy from this whole banter with your roommate. It’s stupid. It shouldn’t make your heart flutter like that—either you’ve had more to drink than you thought you had, or you’ve been really lonely. Which is just sad.

Maybe you should have spent the evening texting titsl0v3rb0i69 instead. At least, you don’t have to wake up tomorrow, living in the same apartment as him. 

So you rinse out a few used pots and pans in the sink, put a few things in the dishwasher, you wash your hands carefully. 

“Taking your sweet time there, baby doll.” 

“DAMN YOU!” You can’t help the loud cry from escaping your lips—Minho isn’t just in the kitchen, he’s right behind you, so close that you felt his warm breath on your skin as he spoke to you in a deep, quiet voice. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” 

You spin to face him, hands on your waist, panting from the jumpscare. The guy has to have been a cat in another lifetime. It’s like he never makes a sound when he moves. His cheeks are rosy from the soju and there is a hint of a smile on his delicate lips. The guy is a walking mystery, but you like riddles. 

Minho pushes some of his hair away from his eyes, looking into yours with a slight squint as if he’s trying to read you. But you make yourself unreadable. You see, from the corner of your eyes, the ugly pig, the empty whiskey bottle, but you do not look away from Minho. You raise your chin slightly, in defiance, just to rile him up some more. But that’s just the soju getting to your head. You always get a little reckless when you drink soju. 

He’s quite handsome, Lee Minho—this, you knew before he moved in, but you truly see it now, half-drunk on soju you didn’t pay for, him towering over you, his piercing gaze sticking to you like you’re his prey. 

“Sorry, babe,” you say, repeating the nickname the same way he repeated yours, with the same sickly sweet tone as him. “Someone had to get the dishes, you see.”

He glances behind you just an instant, just long enough for him to see that you’ve cleared the countertop. And you know he won’t protest, because he’s always the one complaining about dirty dishes in the sink.

“Would you look at that,” Minho says, his voice even lower, so low you barely hear him. “Such a good girl you are, baby doll.” Minho raises his hand and, just as you did to him earlier, he pats your head, except that he brushes his fingers through your hair before removing his hand and walking away, leaving you stunned.

You put your own hand on your head, exactly where Minho’s was just a second ago. It’s almost like you can still feel his warmth there, feel your disheveled hair, like the ghost of something that you can’t believe happened. 

The blushing and flustering happen all at once and you can’t control it, and this is how, as the rational adult that you are, you realize you are not just lonely—you miss Chan, yes, but you miss being touched. Because there is no way this short physical contact would have meant anything to you otherwise. 

There is no way a person who isn’t touch-starved would feel chills at the back of their neck because of this. Being touched is just a basic human need, one that hasn’t been fulfilled for you in a while, except for quick hugs with acquaintances at work. 

It was so brief, just Minho’s fingers in your hair, that you already feel like you’ve made it up. He just wanted to—

“Everything okay over there?” Jisung's voice asks from the living room, as some music begins to play at a low volume. 

“Yeah, be right there, Ji.” 

You still splash cool water on your face and head back to the living room with bottles of soju. 

The food is delicious, the soju is cold and nice, and the conversations are interesting. You participate even when the discussion shifts towards the guys’ work, as you find it quite interesting. And you’ve always appreciated their strength as a team, how they stick together against upper management when they know they’re right about something. 

They always have funny stories, and it doesn’t take long before Jisung begins reenacting a few conversations they’ve had with their superiors. He’s always particularly good at that—like he’s a stand-up comedian. 

Hyunjin laughs so hard he has to lie down on the floor for an instant, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. You’re also in tears, watching Jisung perform a perfect impersonation of Changbin when he gets all angry and worked up. It’s so accurate it could almost look as if Changbin is possessing him, somehow. Even Minho is laughing out loud, slapping his knee, head falling back. A real laugh, one you don’t get to witness from him too often. 

You lean back on the couch to calm down. Your sides hurt from laughing so hard so you take a few deep breaths.

“God, I’m sweating,” Hyunjin manages, still on the floor. “It fucks me up every time you do it… Your Changbin is on point—” But Hyunjin is still laughing, his eyes reduced to two crescents, his hands on his stomach, and doesn’t even bother speaking the rest of his sentence while he tries to calm down. 

“Come drink, Ji, you’ve earned it.” Minho pours his friend a generous glass of soju, and then he pours one for you, too. 

You watch him do so while Jisung downs his shot, visibly proud of himself—but not in a smug way. Jisung just likes making others happy. The soju is still cool and you drink yours while watching Hyunjin gather himself up and declare he’s going to shower. 

“No, like I’m literally sweating from laughing so hard,” he concludes and Jisung slaps his back, following Hyunjin out of the living room to get him a clean towel and other shower supplies. 

The room becomes quiet, except for the music playing from Chan’s old wireless speaker. Minho is in control of the playlist and you see him scroll his phone to select tracks. You check your phone too, only to see that titsl0v3rb0i69 has been sending you a few texts here and there, but not as many as he sometimes does. Maybe he’s busy. 

Sometimes, you wonder if he texts a lot of girls like that and if all of them send him pictures the way you do. If so, he must have a hell of a collection of titty pics.

titsl0v3rb0i69: what are u wearing tonight? are u wearing a nice bra? titsl0v3rb0i69: i came so hard earlier thinking of u in the shower  titsl0v3rb0i69: and i was in a public bathroom. i made a mess

A dark smile appears on your lips while you quickly glance at Minho to make sure he can’t see what you’re doing. Or typing. 

You: did you really jerk off in a public bathroom to my pictures? and made a mess too? You: so you’d just blow immediately, wouldn’t you? wouldn’t even let me play with your cock first, you’d just spray your cum on my tits?

Titsl0v3rb0i69 responds immediately—so quickly that you don’t even have time to close the app. Minho is still adding songs to the playlist, paying absolutely no attention to you. Like nothing had happened.

As if he hadn’t made those innuendos just earlier in the kitchen. Or maybe you just made it all up? You touch your head again where Minho ran his fingers through your hair, remembering a little too well how it had felt like to be touched by him. You glance at him again, like you’re afraid he just read your mind. He's still just on his phone looking for music, but if someone in the world had the ability to read minds, it would be Lee Minho.

He can't read minds but you have to stop thinking about him, about the texts from titsl0v3rb0i. But you’re definitely thinking about how it feels, to have cum running down your chin and your tits… And it’s making you feel things again. It doesn’t help to be sitting so close to Minho, whose cologne has a strong but pleasant smell.

titsl0v3rb0i69: no no please, play with me titsl0v3rb0i69: how do you want me? 

You look away from your phone just an instant, cheeks flushed at the idea of having a guy offer you to take him any way you want. This one in particular… maybe you’d tease him… Make sure he does blow quickly and make him feel bad for it, only with the intention of making him cum harder later—

“You okay there, baby doll?” 

You jump when Minho addresses you but you nod and sit straight, trying to appear as normal as possible. Like you didn’t make yourself wet a little just now, imagining that you were sucking the cock of a guy who smelled as good as him, Minho.

“All good, babe,” you reply, making yourself smile. “Thanks for dinner, by the way, it was delicious,” you decide to add, figuring that a compliment would distract your roommate from your blushing cheeks. 

“The cucumbers could have been sliced a little bit more thinly, but it was good.” Minho makes a face at you and winks before returning to his playlist.

The alcohol relaxed you a lot, so you really don’t feel the irritation that you get from some interactions with Minho. Sometimes, you find it funny—he’s a fun guy. But he really gets comfortable with people, really quick. There are times when you can’t believe that his friends let him treat them like that—he never tried grabbing your ass, but if he did, you’d smack him on the head for sure. 

Maybe the guys just like it when Minho grabs their ass… 

You suppress a laugh, definitely not wanting Minho to notice you any more than he already has. Maybe you could sneak away from the living room and go use that ultra-quiet vibrator of yours… The sound of the water running in the shower might just offer you the best cover, just in case, too… 

So you start gathering empty plates, deciding that this will be your way out from this room and your way in for a five, maybe ten minutes of fun—you really just need to cum quickly and—

“I’ll get those,” Minho says, putting his phone on the table, screen down, startling you once more. He takes the plates from your hands. “The other day… Didn’t you mention you watched a drama where they played Would you rather?” 

“The game?” you blink, not expecting the sudden question, but you quickly recover and nod. “Yeah, it was pretty funny, the characters—” 

“Let’s play that,” Minho offers, cutting you off. But he’s gone, carrying empty plates of food away before you can answer. 

You’ll never understand him, the way he sometimes speaks a sentence as if he had been having an inner monologue and simply chose to continue it out loud, expecting you to understand him and match his vibe. The guy is a walking mystery, after all—but it still surprises you every time. 

The dishes have been cleaned and several more rounds of soju have been drunk. You’re still on the couch, sitting comfortably with your legs stretched on the empty seat beside yours. Minho occupies the seat on the other end of the couch, phone in hand, reading questions for the game online, for inspiration. Jisung is sitting on his office chair, which he rolled all the way here, and he even brought a seat for Hyunjin, too.

There have been a few questions asked already—would you rather have sex with this celebrity or this one, would you rather send nudes to your boss or your parents... The current debate is: would you rather stay pretty all your life but never get laid, or have no problem getting laid but become increasingly uglier every time you do?

And it’s fun. And it’s good to laugh. Minho feels like a different person, but you don’t know if it’s because he’s had time to relax or because of the soju. You watch him as he answers your question, trying to read him, but he is a walking mystery. 

“How ugly are we talking?” Minho turns his head to stare at you, eyebrows raised. “Are we talking 1% uglier every time, or like, 10%?” 

“1% is fair,” Jisung suggests. “What, Lee, are you getting laid so much that it’s a serious threat? I don’t see you bringing girls home, my guy.” 

“Too easy.” You shake your head, a grin appearing on your face. “9% uglier every time you get laid, Minho. So what will it be?”

“AUUUUGH,” Minho cries out, shaking his head, probably damaging your eardrums in the process. “I’m still picking that, but fuck you!” 

Jisung high-fives you—it’s been an unspoken agreement between the two of you to torture Minho with impossible questions, often about his ego. 

“This one’s for you, Hyunjin,” Jisung says, a little louder, slamming his empty soju glass on the coffee table, as Hyunjin enters the living room again after his shower. 

He’s visibly wearing a pair of shorts but wears a white robe in place of a shirt. His damp hair falls around his face and he sits in the chair that Jisung brought for him after helping himself to some more soju. 

“Hit me up, Han,” Hyunjin invites defiantly. 

Jisung stares at Hyunjin with fire in his eyes. “Would you rather sob uncontrollably anytime you cum, or just lose the ability to cum, period?” he asks with the most impressive poker face you’ve ever seen on anyone, and everyone in the room loses it. 

Minho, who had been drinking as Jisung asked the question, chokes on his soju. Jisung himself is laughing so hard that the chair he’s sitting on has rolled several feet to the left, almost colliding with the wall. Hyunjin’s laugh is raw and ugly, and he’s hiding his face in his hands as his whole body is shaking with laughter. You’re crying—tears roll down your face as you laugh so hard you become dizzy. 

This is the most fun you’ve had in a while—in too long. You pour soju for everyone, spilling some on the table in the process, still laughing a little too hard. But everyone drinks up with satisfied grunts. 

You lie down a little on the couch, a hand on your chest as you calm down. Minho relaxes as well, sitting more comfortably, his legs spread out enough that his thigh rests against your feet. 

“Aren’t you going to answer, Hyunjin?” Minho asks. He always recovers the quickest from laughter, and you admire that in him—his composure. 

“Yeah, I’d like to know the answer, the stakes are so high” you add, earning a fistbump from Jisung. 

Hyunjin sighs, rolling his eyes, his cheeks pink but with a smile on his face. “Even when I’m with someone else? I'd sob?” he pleads, looking defeated. “Really?” 

“Of course.” Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. “So what’ll be, cry when you cum or no cum at all?”

Another sigh from Hyunjin, as he takes his sweet time giving his response. Minho is getting impatient—you suspect he truly gets something from seeing his friends struggle this way. Not that he’s cruel for real—he wouldn’t enjoy it if Hyunjin was fighting for his life or in physical pain. But it’s obvious Minho enjoys the game that’s currently being played. He’s a walking mystery, but he does like his mind games. 

“ARGH! What do you pick, Hwang?” Minho insists, his manspreading becoming even worse—you have to pull your feet back a little to make space for him on the large couch. 

But not for long, because Minho gets up, standing tall in the middle of the three of you who are still comfortably seated. Well, except for Hyunjin, whose smile faded a little, and whose hands are gripping the armrests of his chair. 

“If you’re not going to play the game,” Minho starts, stretching his arms carefully, “then you have no use for that mouth of yours, Hwang.” Minho grabs a handful of paper napkins from the coffee table, and then you understand what is about to happen.

Personally, you’ve never witnessed it, but it is a well-known fact among the friend group that Minho, once in a while, will stuff Hyunjin’s mouth with tissues or other similar items. This is just one of Minho’s antics. The napkins. The sarcasm. The ass grabbing. The excellent food he cooks. The guy is a walking mystery, but his quirks are fabled. 

“Min—” 

But it’s too late. You can only stare as Minho quickly puts Hyunjin in some kind of headlock with one arm, using his free hand to part open his friend’s mouth to push the napkins between his lips. Jisung is laughing again, and you feel a chuckle somewhere in your chest, too—but you also feel the same tingling you felt earlier because of the texts on the dating app, between your legs. 

That’s a whole kink right there, you tell yourself, watching Hyunjin writhe on his chair, his robe half pulled open, head held back by Minho who has a solid hold on him and is watching him struggle with a devilish smile. It only lasts a few seconds before Minho lets him go and takes his seat on the couch back, same as was sitting before. Relaxed, manspreading enough that your feet are completely resting against his thigh. Unbothered. A walk in the park—only fitting for the walking mystery that he is. 

Hyunjin pulls the napkins out of his mouth, gasping and gagging, trying to wrap his robe around his body again, while Jisung is struggling not to choke from laughing too hard. 

“This literally never fucking gets old,” Jisung manages through his laughter, pouring more soju for everyone. Hyunjin doesn’t waste a second drinking it, no doubt to get rid of the feeling the paper left behind. “We’re still waiting for an answer, Hwang.” 

Minho drinks his shot and glances at you when he notices that you haven’t touched your glass. You lock eyes with him, wanting to look away but finding yourself unable to. In this light, you notice his particularly sharp jaw and his nice mouth. Maybe it’s because you’ve indulged a little bit too much with the drinks, or because of the way he touched your hair earlier. Or maybe it’s just because he’s smug from doing the napkin thing to Hyunjin—but you can’t help but think that Minho is glowing tonight. And there’s something in his gaze that you can’t explain. Something mischievous. More than usual. The guy is a walking mystery, but it seems you like puzzles. 

“Of course I won’t choose to never cum again, what the fuck kind of question was that anyway?” Hyunjin replies after clearing his throat, making a face, still disgusted by the taste and feel of the napkins. “Fuck you, that was the worst question so far.”

“It wasn't that bad,” Minho objects, but he’s still looking in your direction, so you know he’s about to throw the question at you. “So, baby doll. Hypothetically, of course, would you rather it be common knowledge who the last person you fucked is, or would you rather it be common knowledge who the next person you’re going to fuck is?”

Your mind doesn’t really process it immediately. Your mind is still processing the way it looked when Minho’s elegant fingers parted open Hyunjin’s pretty mouth to stuff it with napkins. It was napkins but it might as well have been anything else. In anybody else’s mouth. It was Hyunjin that Minho had pinned into his chair, but it might have been anybody else, pinned into any other place. A bed. A wall. Whatever.

The soju is playing with your mind and you know it. You feel Minho’s thigh against your feet—your fucking feet, as if it should elicit any kind of reaction from you, and yet the prolonged contact definitely does—but the worst is his eyes. How he’s staring at you as if he’s reading your soul like he would read the morning paper. 

“What?” Finally, the information has made it to your brain.

“Hypothetically,” Minho repeats, cocking his head just slightly. “Which would you pick?”

You recall how, earlier, he had caught you staring at the empty bottle of whiskey on the shelf in the kitchen. He knows you used to fuck Chan, and you get the feeling that Minho is itching to share that knowledge with the whole damn world. 

You look away from him, lucky to have a good excuse to do so—you sit straight on the couch to drink the soju that had been poured from you. Doing so, you notice that both Jisung and Hyunjin seem rather uncomfortable. You’re pretty sure Minho has noticed that, too, but he pays it no heed, his eyes still on you. 

“It’s not as funny when it’s her,” Jisung points out, his ears dark red. “She’s a girl, man, it’s not the same. Ask something else.”

“I can answer the question,” you reply, pouring yourself another shot without pouring one for the others and drinking it immediately. “It’s just for fun anyway.” 

You hear Minho’s chuckle to your left while you pour yet another shot, ignoring the warmth spreading within you. You’re not stupid. You’re not blind. Minho knows your secret and he’s dying to tell everyone. But you’re not going to give him the occasion to do so. 

“I guess I’d rather everyone knows who I’ll fuck next, although that’s such a specific question, babe,” you reply, making big efforts so that your voice sounds casual. “Besides, it might just be convenient. Less time wasted if I just know who it will be and the other person knows, too.” 

You look at him then, Minho. His smirk is gone, and you still can’t read him so there is no way to know if you’ve ruined his plans of telling everybody how you used to fuck Chan. 

“Do you really not have any idea who you’ll be fucking next?” Minho asks you, and this is the moment you become aware, fully aware, of him. His fancy cologne, which you smell faintly from here. His jaw, his lips, and his white teeth behind them. His cat-like eyes and perfect eyebrows.

His hands, agile enough to pin a man down and forcefully open his mouth. His tongue running on his bottom lip, his brazen expression. His thighs. The way they fill his trousers, the way they look comfortable, pleasant to touch or to sit on. Fuck fuck fuck. You can’t be thinking that. It’s Lee fucking Minho. Your roommate, who likes to lovingly bully his friends. Who knows your secret.

“Do you know exactly who you’ll sleep with next?” you return the question, cocking your head and squinting to mirror his expression. 

“I know exactly, yes, now that you’re asking, baby doll.” He cracks a wide grin at you, finally releasing you from his gaze to turn to the other two. “Alright, so who wants to ask me a question, now?” 

Hyunjin and Jisung look at each other for half a second, it’s quite obvious they’d rather disappear than have to ask Minho a Would you rather after his little display of dominance that he played over them. The game had started pretty chill with funny, interesting questions, but as the evening grew, the questions had become more and more intense, with the stakes getting higher and higher. 

As if the person asking the most embarrassing, filthy question would receive higher honors. In your opinion, Jisung had won in that regard with his latest question to Hyunjin, but you figured none of them wanted to give Minho another reason to stuff napkins in someone’s mouth. Or to lovingly humiliate them a little by revealing their deepest darkest secrets.

“It’s late, I think I’m gonna go to bed,” Hyunjin says, standing up and gathering a few empty bottles to take with him to the kitchen. “Had fun though, thanks for dinner and drinks.” 

“Yeah, same, it's so late! Goodnight guys! I’ll get lunch for all of us tomorrow,” Jisung adds.

It’s not that late—barely past midnight—but Jisung just disappears into his bedroom with his office chair as soon as he’s given the chance. You take a deep breath, deciding to grab a few bottles too, and start cleaning up. The music stops playing and you hear Minho shift on the couch before you feel him right beside you. You hold on tighter to the bottles you’re holding before looking towards him.

“Goodnight,” he says, grabbing the rest of the bottles and in the process, pressing himself against you for a few seconds. His body is strong and warm and the tingles between your legs are back.

He goes to the kitchen, where you hear him put the bottles in the recycling bin before heading to the bathroom.

The guy is a walking mystery. He is just unreadable—one minute, he looks like he’s about to pounce on his prey, and the next minute, he looks like he’s just the warmest, nicest guy ever. It keeps you on your toes and has done so since he’s moved in, but sometimes, it can be tiring. In the end, you still don’t know if he likes you or if he hates you—and you still don’t know if you like him or if you hate him. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

You leave the bottles in the kitchen and make your way to your bedroom quietly, closing the door behind you. You’ve had soju, which might have been your first mistake. Or maybe it had been to text that guy, thinking it would be fun to leave him hanging, almost like you’re edging him. But you forgot one detail: in doing so, you were edging yourself a little, too. 

There’s just nothing that compares to that feeling—knowing that you made someone’s cock hard… 

You let the dating app load while you undress to change into your sleeping clothes—a comfortable, oversized t-shirt and you do keep your panties on, but not for long, you figure, as your faithful and reliable ultra-quiet vibrator is waiting for you. And it seems your breasts enthusiast friend has been texting you in the past few minutes, so you’re eager to have something to help you cum harder.

titsl0v3rb0i69: please tell me… what did u do tonight titsl0v3rb0i69: were u wet thinking of me? my cock hard for u? spraying my cum in the bathroom at work for u?  titsl0v3rb0i69: i’m getting hard again just thinking about it… 

you: I was with friends, we played games, I’m a little drunk you: I thought about you too… but if you’re hard already, does that mean you’ll blow again without letting me in on the fun? 

titsl0v3rb0i69: no no please. i won’t blow i promise. not until u let me titsl0v3rb0i69: what games did u play with ur friends? spin the bottle? lol 

So you tell him about Would you rather, the raunchy questions. You try not to think about Minho stuffing Hyunjin’s mouth with napkins but you’re thinking about it, wondering how absurd it would be to give in, lie down in your bed, and cum to that very thought. If you’re so obsessed with that specifically, maybe post-nut clarity will help clear your mind and you can move on with your life.

titsl0v3rb0i69: would you rather take me in your cute mouth or in your sweet pussy? 

you: what makes you think I’d ever let your cock anywhere inside of me, boy?

But you’re thinking of Minho. His scent, the way he cooks food. The way he manages the kitchen while everyone is cooking food together. Like he’s the king of the place. Like he’s the conductor of some orchestra. The fact that, before tonight, you wouldn’t even admit to yourself that he’s hot, is messing with your mind. As if you had made a grand discovery today—you couldn’t help your thoughts to steer back towards him. 

titsl0v3rb0i69: can u please take my cock? just a little… i’m so hard… wanna feel u around me titsl0v3rb0i69: please? 

Please this, please that—your eyes read the words but your brain doesn’t follow. Your brain, which controls your pussy, is still thinking about Lee Minho, his hands, his mouth, his voice, and the way it sounded when he called you baby doll. Fuck—this wasn’t even the first time he called you like that, but it had never gotten to your head before. It was a joke, banter, but there was also something in his eyes tonight that you just couldn’t read… The guy is a walking mystery, and you want to decipher him badly.

Your gaze trails from the screen of your phone, where titsl0v3rb0i69 is still waiting for a response from you, then to your bedside table, where your beloved vibrator, the ultra-quiet one, is still waiting for you. You gulp, your mouth suddenly dry, and try to make out any noise from the apartment. You know both Hyunjin and Jisung retreated to their bedrooms, and you’re pretty sure Minho went back to the living room, which is across the apartment… 

You leave your phone on your desk, daring to slide your hand in between your legs. It feels silly to do so just like that, in the darkness of your bedroom, standing right in the middle of it, seemingly aimlessly, but you shudder at your own touch, validating your fear—you’re wet. Fuck, it has to be because you’re tipsy, right? 

Tipsy and thirsty—and not just for Minho. You grab your water bottle only to find it empty, as usual. You always neglect to refill it anyway, so you quickly head out of your bedroom to do it. You’ll hydrate a little, cum once or twice, and call it a night. Tomorrow, all of this will be over—

“Thirsty much?” 

You almost drop the water pitcher when Minho appears quietly in the kitchen. There’s only the light from the living room illuminating the room, so it’s dark and you can’t quite make out his face. But he walks towards you slowly, stopping until he reaches the kitchen island, where you left your empty bottle.

“Pour me a glass, will you, baby doll?” Minho tells you softly, his voice low, commanding. As if there was no doubt that you would, indeed, pour him one. 

On any other day, you would have scoffed at him and told him to fuck off, that he can get his own water. He would have retorted something just as dry but with a touch of wit, and the playful exchange of teasing would have lasted on and off until an outside source put an end to it, somehow. You never, ever let Minho win in the long run, not over you. And he never let you win in the long run either.

But today, apparently, is not any other day. 

You walk away from the kitchen island to grab a clean glass and pour the cold water in it before bringing it back to Minho. He makes sure his hand touches yours when he takes it from you and you watch as he drinks the water, his head falling back a little, his neck stretched, his adam’s apple bobbing. You wish it was a little less dark in here so that you could see his pretty lips locked around the rim of the glass. 

“Thanks, baby doll.” Minho puts the empty glass back on the kitchen island, his eyes locked into yours. He pats your head as he did earlier, only for a few seconds longer, and he rests his hand on the top of your head when he’s done, before cocking his head to look up and down at you.

You are suddenly very aware of your lack of clothing. But this is not the first time he sees you in just a long t-shirt. He can’t see anything anyway, just your legs. You’re not wearing a bra but you’re pretty sure it’s too dark for him to see the outline of your nipples, which are most definitely coming alive from the weight of his hand on your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. 

Warmth spreads across your skin, beneath and under, traveling through your body like lightning, settling comfortably at your core, where you feel a familiar pressure rise slowly. You really, really hope that Minho can’t see you too well, as you know your face must be bright red. But this is nothing. His hand is on top of your head, this shouldn’t make you even more wet than you were—and yet, it does. 

“So, baby doll…” Minho pauses his sentence halfway as he closes his fist in your hair, his grasp on you secure, but not too tight—you could easily evade him should you want to. But you don't really want to.

You let out a whimper, your pussy clenching from the contact, which only brings a smile to Minho’s face. 

His smirk wides a little before he finishes his sentence. “... would you rather I fuck you in this kitchen, or would you rather I do it in your room?” 

So, maybe you did know who the next person you’d fuck was going to be. Maybe your brain didn’t want to release the information straight away, as some kind of last desperate attempt at self-preservation. 

Because Minho wasn’t just trying to get in your pants. He was hunting for sports, not even like an apex predator that needed it to survive, but rather like a housecat, well-fed, pacified, that only hunts to toy with his prey until he’s satisfied. 

Stop clenching, but your pussy isn’t listening. Your arousal is pooling between your legs, making your underwear stick to your folds. 

“So, baby doll?” He continues, his eyebrows sharper than his jaw. Using the grip he has on your hair, he tilts your head just a little at the back, until you’re looking at him right in his hooded eyes. He’s had many drinks himself, and you wonder if he’s wanted this for a while, kind of like you, and needed liquid courage to get to it. To you. “What will it be? Unless I read the signals wrong, and you don’t want this?” 

He releases his grip on you a little, and you contemplate it—maybe you should retreat, tell him that it’s best if you don’t go any further with him. 

But he’s leaning closer towards you now, and the smell of his cologne hits you at the same time his soju breath does—his face is so close that you can see his eyelashes and how truly lovely his eyes are. From up close, he doesn’t look cold at all. You still can’t read him, but you also can’t stop staring at his beautiful smirking pout. 

“No—I want this—I—”

He pulls you closer even, his lips almost touching yours. 

“Listen to me, baby doll,” he tells you and this is maybe the softest tone he ever used on you. “Are you sure you want this?” Minho uses his free hand to trace the outline of your face, letting his fingertips caress your lips longer than he needs to, but your heart is racing and it feels so good. That he’s touching you. “If you do want this, you should come up with a safeword and communicate it to me. You understand?” 

It all clicks into place, now.

You try to gulp again, but you still haven’t had any water and your mouth is still dry. You look into Minho’s dark eyes. The guy is a walking mystery, and you want nothing more than to let him complicate you. 

“Soju—” You clear your throat, licking your lips to wet them, but you’re so thirsty. “Soju. My safeword.” 

A chuckle shakes Minho’s shoulders slightly and he pulls away from you, letting you go. You had gotten used to his hand in your hair—you feel cold there, almost as if a breeze is cooling you off. But it’s just the absence of him that makes you like that. That makes you feel empty, alone, even if he’s standing right in front of you. You just want him to touch you again. 

But he grabs the glass he just drank from and fills it again with water before handing it to you.

“Drink up, baby doll. You’ll need it. And, you still haven’t answered my question… Where should I ruin you, pretty thing? Right here?” 

The water is cold and nice and offers such contrast from the warmth emanating from your body that you shiver. Or is it because of the way Minho is staring at you?... 

“Let’s go to my room,” you offer. You definitely do not need anyone walking in on you anyway.

Minho almost seems disappointed, but he says nothing, he just waits for you to finish the glass of water and he even puts the pitcher back into the fridge himself while you leave the empty glass in the dishwasher. 

The anticipation is killing you. Somehow, you wish you were already bouncing on his cock. Somehow, you’re terrified—but you know you want this, you want him. Earlier, on the couch, his thighs, how he was manspreading… How fucking wonderful would it be to straddle him, to feel him—

“After you, baby doll.” Minho motions towards the hallway and you lead the way to your room, but he’s close behind. So close that he bumps into you when you stop for an instant to push open your door. 

But he doesn’t pull away from you. Minho wraps one arm around your upper body and gently hurries you into the room before closing it behind the two of you, but not without a slight hesitation. 

“Tell me, baby doll,” Minho whispers, his chest pressed on your back, using his other arm to pull you even closer by your waist, making your ass meet with his crotch. And you feel something there. “Should I go get a condom?” 

You know the sex you’re about to have is safe enough to your taste. You know you ought to tell your roommate to yes, go get one, come back, fuck me, whatever. But some twisted part of your brain reminds you that both you and Minho are ending a dry spell together tonight, and you really just fucking need him to raw you. 

“Just fuck me, Minho,” you utter, your voice surprising you in the calm of your bedroom. The air from the vent cools you off a little and provides soothing background noise. But you still feel like you’re full of static. Like you’re ready to melt. This is not something you thought you’d ever do, but here you are. “Please.” 

He hums into your hair. “So you are a little bit of a slut, aren’t you? Not that I didn’t know this already...”

Minho moves behind you, pushing you farther into the room, burying his face in your neck. You suppress a moan, not wanting him to know just how ready you are, as he inhales you, your scent.

“Oh fuck…” his lips graze the skin of your neck as he mumbles. “Oh fuck, you sweet, pretty thing…” 

He pulls your face towards him so that you’re facing him, your neck twisted in a not-so-comfortable position, but you find pleasure in the slight pain. Like it reminds you that your body is alive, the same way the wetness in your panties does. 

Minho kisses you, and you’re thankful that he’s holding you because your knees go limp a little. His mouth is both hard and soft—he kisses you solidly, but his lips are supple, wet, nice. You kiss him back, letting him part your lips open, his fingers sinking into your cheek, holding you tighter. Minho’s tongue teases your lips before hurrying past them. His mouth tastes like soju and Minho smells like himself. His cologne, woody, spicy, the scent, faded a little by the long day but still there. His musk, him. You try to spin around to face him but he doesn’t let you. 

“This eager, baby doll?” Minho whispers against your mouth in between kisses. He presses himself harder against your ass and you feel him—if he’s not hard already, he’s on his way there, and it makes your eyelids flutter. “Won’t even let me play with you a little?” 

You’re about to respond when you hear footsteps in the hallway, coming from Changbin’s room toward the bathroom—Hyunjin. You close your mouth again, breathing deeply, as Minho releases his grip on your face a little. Still, you remain motionless, your back leaning against his chest, your ass resting against his concealed erection. 

“What is it, are you suddenly all shy?” Minho asks, his face back into the crook of your neck, leaving kisses and licks and gentle bites. “You weren’t shy when you were in that other room with Chan, were you?” Minho chuckles, one of his hands slithering under your shirt to touch your waist, fingers dancing on your skin, leaving trails of fire behind them. Fuck, it feels so good to be touched. “Oh, Channie, yes, yes, please—” Another chuckle from Minho, interrupting his impersonation of your moans. 

He kisses you again then, his hand securely holding your sides, your head resting on his shoulder. He’s grinding on your ass a little, and each motion brings out more of your arousal between your legs. This time, the kiss is deeper and you revel in it, in how skilled Minho is with his tongue, how gently he kisses you, exploring your mouth, breathing you in. It just feels so good. How hard he’s holding you. How softly he’s kissing you. 

You hear footsteps again, and the door to Changbin’s room closes once more, and it’s silent in the apartment.

“I’ll make you scream too, baby doll,” and Minho might be a walking mystery but you know he is the type of guy to keep his promises. “Been wanting to do that since I heard you with him…” Minho’s hand trails from your waist to your chest, where he wastes no time fondling your tits, palming them up, really taking in the feel of your hardened nipples. “You sound so cute when you moan, I was hard and leaking when I left…”

You frown, a little dazed from the drinks and a lot from the kissing and the touches, but you still manage to process Minho’s reveal.

“When did you hear Chan and I fuck?” you ask under your breath, Minho’s fingers still teasing the hell out of your tits, his cock teasing the hell out of your ass, despite the many layers of fabric separating the two of you. 

“That night with the whiskey, baby doll.” Minho kisses you again. “You weren’t even trying to be quiet, can’t you remember?”

You do remember, yeah, and it feels just as wrong as it feels right when you clench at that memory, knowing that Minho has been fantasizing about this—about you—for months, based on the fact that he heard you having sex with his friend. 

“Did the others hear, too?” you ask, leaning into him, into his touches, the warmth of his body. Leaning into your drunken state, too. God, he smells so good. “Or just you?”

“Doesn't matter, I heard you.” Minho grunts, mimicking intercourse, thrusting softly against you to match the noises he’s producing. “Oh, Channie, yes, oh, you’re so big, yes, yes—” Minho stops abruptly, finally spinning you around until you are facing him. Your eyes got acclimated to the relative darkness and you can see him now, wide-eyed, pretty lips parted open, his hair ruffled. What a beautiful sight. “My turn now. You’ll moan for me, too.” 

His lips crash against yours again but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, to this particular way Minho has of kissing you. How he’s slurping on you but always returning to your lips, licking them, before exploring your mouth once more, hungrily, like a hurricane. His hands are everywhere—sometimes in your hair, often under your shirt, and you allow your hands to explore him, too. His neck, his face, his abdomen. But when you reach for the button of his pants, Minho breaks the kiss and pulls away. 

“Baby doll. You really are impatient, aren’t you?” You scan his eyes and admire the way his soft hair falls just a little in front of them. This walking mystery with the pretty mouth and nice fucking thighs. But he won’t let you take his pants off to see them better. To feel them under your fingertips. “Sit on your bed, will you?” 

You try to read him, but he’s an enigma. Still, you see it now, the bulge in his pants, the flush on his cheeks. He may have an assertive personality and he may be running his mouth a lot, but it’s obvious Minho wants you just as much as you want him—and maybe even more. You bite your lip, a string of thoughts swirling in your mind. 

“Why did you wait so long?” you ask him. You sit on the edge of your bed, but you look at him in the eyes with just enough arrogance in your voice. “That night, with the whiskey… It was months ago, Min. Why wait so long? Why lock yourself in your room every night to watch your anime instead of knocking on my door?”

You see it—a cloud of darkness passing in Minho’s eyes. Nothing too harmful, but you know you’ve said something you shouldn’t have. Or, maybe the opposite. 

“Is that what you think I do in the evening?” Minho inquires, taking a step towards you, and another, stopping only when he’s inches away from you, his crotch and the bulge of his pants so close to your face you can almost feel the warmth emanating from it. “I sit in bed, watch anime, jerk off, rinse, repeat?” 

You bite your lip, enjoying a little too much the feeling of Minho’s patience running out. 

“Who is it you’re thinking about, baby doll, when you use that vibrator of yours?” Minho presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your face until you’re looking at him again, instead of his pants. “Your sweet Channie?” 

Sometimes, yeah. Other times, not. Your eyes dart from Minho to your desk, where your phone rests, and your drawer, where your vibrator is located.

“You can hear me?” You don’t hear him, Minho, ever, except for the door of his closet open and close once in a while, or a drawer being pulled. Once, he had a cold, and you heard him sneeze a couple of times. 

He smiles at you, bending a little more to kiss you hungrily, his mouth devouring yours again. Your legs part open, almost like an automatic response, your hands clutching at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. 

“I hear you sometimes, baby doll. Your little breaths, fuck, you sound so hot when you cum…” Another kiss, even deeper this time, as Minho tugs at your wrists to free himself from your hold. “But how can I even hear you if all I do is sit in my room to watch my stupid anime, right?” 

You bite your lip, offering a half-apologetic shrug. “How am I supposed to know what you do in there, Min?” 

Minho looks at you carefully, your face, the outline of your tits on the loose shirt you’re wearing. He touches your hair, running his fingers through it, before letting his arm fall back on the side of his body again.

“Take your panties off now, baby doll,” he instructs you. “We’ll see if you like anime, too.” 

The guy is a walking mystery, but you oblige him—you lift your ass just enough to pull your panties off you, letting them run down your legs and past your ankles.

“Tut tut—” you hear Minho’s disapproving voice. “Don’t let them touch the floor, give them to me. Don’t be wasteful.” 

This is fun. To be lulled by the soju, by your long day, by this man’s smooth and resolute voice. He takes the panties from your hand, carefully examining them under the faint light from the small lamp on your desk. 

“Nice style,” he mentions, wetting his lips, brushing the floral patterned fabric with his fingers, letting them linger on the frill on the edges. “By god, baby doll—you’re soaked, aren’t you?” 

Minho brings your panties to his face, inhaling them not like an animal, as one might have expected, but very delicately. It reminds you of a wine tasting, the way his brows draw together as he focuses on his task—analyzing your scent with purpose.

“Oh my god, you sweet, sweet thing…” Minho sighs, looking almost in pain, and you don’t even know where to look—his face, the way it’s twisted by longing, lust, or the swelling in his pants. All the while, you sit on your bed, waiting, your pussy dripping wet, all the muscles of your body seemingly tensed.

But then you do know where to look, because you see Minho’s pink tongue go past his lips, and he presses it against the fabric of your underwear, exactly where your panties collected the most of your arousal. 

This is what he must look like when he cums, you tell yourself, watching ecstasy take over Minho, his eyes rolling at the back of his head for just a second, his mouth closing in on your taste before his lips part open, his head tilting at the back. 

“Fuck—baby doll. So sweet, let’s not waste any more of it, shall we?” The panties are put back in front of your face, and you know Minho expects you to lick them clean. He’s sizing you up, one hand holding your panties, the other in your hair, caressing it so gently it gives you chills. “Don’t you want a taste of yourself?”

Of course you do. You lap at your own juices which are coating your panties, swallowing your taste, cleaning the fabric the best you can under Minho’s watchful gaze. 

“Such a pretty mouth…” Minho mutters, bucking his arm to press your underwear more firmly against your lips. At the same time, the hand in your hair becomes a closed fist, pulling you towards him, his hand, the same hand that was holding the napkins just earlier…

You raise your eyes to look at him, at Minho, only to find him cracking a beautiful but wicked smirk at you.

“You think I didn’t notice you earlier? Writhing on the couch, closing your pretty legs, looking almost like you were cumming from it… Couldn’t even look away. I bet you were wishing you were in Hyunjin’s place, sweet thing?” Again, Minho’s tongue wanders on his lips, and he uses his fingers to push the fabric of your underwear in your mouth. It’s damp from your juices and your saliva. “I’ll put something in your mouth, too. That’s it, baby doll. Relax. Let me stuff your mouth, now.” 

You do relax, the pressure of Minho’s fingers on your tongue enough to send electric shocks through your whole body, making you moan with his fingers and some of your panties in your mouth. The smirk widens and Minho cocks his head to the side.

“Such a desperate slut.” He pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, effectively gagging you with your own panties. They taste like your pussy and you fucking love it. “Now, let’s see if you like my anime, baby doll. At least, if you don’t, you won’t be able to complain.” 

He pats your head and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. You try swallowing the saliva accumulating in your stuffed mouth but you don’t know what makes it more difficult—the fabric taking up so much space in your mouth, or the emptiness of your throbbing, soaked pussy. 

Minho climbs on your bed, only to position himself behind you, making it easier to hold his phone for both of you to see. You watch for a few seconds— it’s just a standard anime-style video playing, showing a woman walking in a park, on a little path. But you’re a lot more preoccupied with what’s going on behind you—Minho wrapping you in between his legs, his strong thighs hugging yours so closely that the fabric of his pants rubbing on your skin makes your pussy clench. 

You close your eyes when Minho’s face is back on you, his mouth wide open on your skin, licking you, making out with your shoulder. You feel his hard length against the small of your back, and you try to lean into it, to feel him better, to tease him the way he teases you. 

“Look at the screen, baby doll. You wanted to see what I do in my room. So, watch.” 

It’s not just anime, you realize that now, as the pretty girl on the screen is currently having her clothes removed from her body and it doesn’t take a second before some blurred cock begins ramming into her. 

You can’t laugh because your mouth is full of your panties, but the thought of Minho jerking off to hentai is, at first, rather humorous. You imagine him in his room, his cock in his fist, following the motions on whatever video he chooses that night. It might be funny on the surface, but now that you’re subjected to it—to a close-up of everything in the video, bouncing tits, drooling mouths, leaking pussy, and Minho’s soft dry humping behind you, it’s not as funny as it’s just hot. 

You don’t even know if he’s just fucking with you. After all, the guy is a walking mystery. For all you know, he’s an avid reader of self-help books and that’s how he spends all his evenings in his room, and he’s just trying to mess up with your head. Or to make you even more wet, which he did, for sure.

As if he could read your mind, Minho slides his free hand on your bare leg, caressing you, making your skin prickle on his way to your inner thigh, his mouth still devouring your neck, your shoulder. Your mouth, on the other hand, feels dry from being stuffed with fabric, but the scent and taste of your own arousal drive you crazy. You moan under his touches, leaning back into him, trying to grind against his cock as best you can. 

Except that Minho is touching you just about anywhere except where he should. Your leg, the back of your knee, your inner thigh, which you’re not quite sure, but feels damp from how soaked you are. Hell, there is most likely a small puddle of wet under you. From how much you want this, how good it feels. 

You slide your own hand between your legs, but Minho grabs your wrist just millimeters before you reach your pussy. “Oh, no, baby doll. You’re mine tonight, and you don’t get to touch yourself unless I tell you so. Understood?”

You contemplate calling it off, using the safeword, maybe even slapping him in the face, just so that you can finish yourself off. But you feel his cock in your back, his hand on your thigh, his hot breath on your neck. 

You’re at Minho’s mercy tonight. And you like it.

It doesn’t even matter that the girl on the screen is being filled to the brim with cock and cum, because Lee Minho is teasing you, lazily trailing his fingers all the way to your pussy but stopping just millimeters before reaching your folds. You moan your complaints, the sound choked by the fabric in your mouth. 

“Watch her, baby doll,” Minho says into your ear, the vibrations of his voice traveling all the way to your pussy, making you throb. “Watch her, this is what I’m going to do to you later.” 

On the screen, the man fucking the girl has a hand around her neck—it doesn’t seem like he’s choking her as much as he’s just holding her, ramming into her from behind, pumping an inhuman amount of cum into her. You feel it. You are so on edge that you feel it, you feel so full yet so empty. 

You could cum from the friction of your shirt against your sensitive pussy. In fact, one quick glance down confirms that you’re so wet you’ve left traces of your juices on it. 

“Did you like it, baby doll?” Minho asks, his mouth so close to your neck that you feel the shape of his lips against your skin, like a ghost. “Did it make you wet?” 

You try to speak but when you realize you really can’t, you just nod, your eyelids fluttering every time Minho’s hand dances near your pussy. The guy is a walking mystery, and he is a fucking tease, too. Today is not your lucky day. Or maybe it is.

The phone is discarded and Minho’s other hand slides under your shirt, feeling up your nipples, hard and sensitive. You moan, again. It’s all you can do now, firmly trapped between his legs, gagged, turned on by Minho’s teasing. Desperate, already.

Just fuck me, you want to tell him. You realize now that he’s been trying to get to this, to now, for a while, but you were so busy with your everyday life that you simply disregarded any thoughts related to it. It was easier this way. But he has you soaked on your own bed and he has barely touched you. 

You need to feel him between your legs. 

But apparently, Minho has other plans. You shouldn’t be surprised and you aren’t really, but you’re thankful when he pulls your panties from your mouth, freeing you. Still from behind you, still one hand playing with your tits, Minho presses his fingers against your lips—they’re sore from kissing and from when he gagged you—before pushing past them and burying them in your mouth. Immediately, you close your lips around them, relishing the presence of him somewhere, anywhere inside you. You twirl your tongue around his digits, the taste of his skin making warmth pool between your legs. 

“So eager…” Minho pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on your shirt. “I showed you what I like to watch when I get myself off, baby doll. Show me what you do to get yourself there.” 

You don’t mind porn, but you rarely find anything that is worthwhile, so you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next. You sit on the bed, your head in Minho’s neck, his breath in your hair, his hand on your inner thigh, spreading you a little more for him. The hand trails up again. “Yes,” you breathe, a soft, hum escaping your lips. “Yes, yes please—” 

“Begging for me?” Minho chuckles in your neck, his mouth still ravaging you with kisses and aggressive licks. “Go get your phone, baby doll.” 

You’re too aroused to think—you don’t understand why Minho has any use for your phone right now, but you painfully pull away from him to cross your room and grab the device on your desk. When you pick it up, the screen lights up with several notifications, all from the same app and person. You skip the first few as only the latest really matters.

titsl0v3rb0i69: where r u  titsl0v3rb0i69: i’m so hard for u baby i need u let me cum please titsl0v3rb0i69: can i cum please? please? come back 

You look at the time on your screen and realize you’ve left titsl0v3rb0i69 in a state of blue balls for much longer than you had planned—with Minho, you had just forgotten about him… And since he seemed resolute to cum on cue for you… Has he really been waiting this whole time? The thought makes you want to laugh, but it also turns you the fuck on. To think that someone, out there, is willing to let you control them in that way…

“Everything okay there, baby doll?” Minho asks. He’s sitting comfortably in your bed, his legs spread out, the outline of his thighs just as enticing as the outline of his cock in his pants. You bite your lip, unable to think about anything but the urge you feel to straddle him this very second. “Is your friend missing you?” 

Your brows draw together and you stand there blinking, as if Minho had spoken to you in another language—it feels, almost, like he’s specifically talking about titsl0v3rb0i69.

He must mean Chan, you figure, recalling how he called you out for sleeping with him. “It’s… it’s early morning for him,” you say. “In California, I mean. I don’t think Chan wakes up before—”

“I don’t mean him, and you know that, baby doll.” The smile Minho cracks at you is so powerful that it makes your knees weak. That it makes you dizzy. It makes you even more soaked. “Your little friend. The one on the app. The dating app. I see you swiping around, texting.” 

Now, for sure, your knees are too weak to support your weight and you lean against your desk. The sturdy wood is cool under your palm and it feels nice, it anchors you a little while Minho seems so resolute to torture you. You look at your screen again, as it lights up once more.

titsl0v3rb0i69: my balls hurt. im leaking baby. please 

The text is followed by a picture of titsl0v3rb0i69’s current situation—a raging hard-on, his smooth cock flushed dark, his precum dripping onto it. The background is too dark to see anything else, really, but at this time of the night, he couldn’t possibly be at work. It looks painful. It’s only a picture, but you can almost see his cock twitch.

“How do you know about that?” you ask Minho. 

“Just a quick glance at your phone while you were using it, some time ago,” Minho reveals. At least, he’s honest. He just looks particularly sexy, sitting with his legs open, his hand resting near his bulge but not touching it. “And huh—” Minho chuckles at his own thoughts, making you even more curious about him than you already are. “I think you should text him. The guy.”

“There’s not just one guy,” you retort. You indeed try to chat with a few people once in a while, but it never really lasts long. Not as much as with titsl0v3rb0i69 anyway—not that you’re able to explain this strange connection with him. Maybe it’s just easier because you don’t seem to be able to disappoint him and you rarely feel like you have to perform for him—you can just send him a picture of your tits and he goes crazy for it. “Min, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Nah, baby doll. I think you know exactly what I mean.” Minho shifts his weight on the bed, leaning farther into your pillows, making himself comfortable. “Text him. That one guy.” 

You look at the screen again, at titsl0v3rb0i69’s leaking cock. Maybe it’s one of his kinks—it’s probably related to why he was disappointed when you chose to bring him in here instead of letting him have his fun with you in the kitchen, where everyone could have heard, or even seen you. 

“What do you want me to text him?” There’s no point in fighting him. Obviously, Minho wants to play with you, so the sooner you give him what he wants, the sooner his cock will be in your pussy.

Or so you hope.

Minho’s tongue runs on his smile and he raises his eyebrows just a little, his hand shifting closer to his bulge than it was. 

“Why don’t you tell him to come and say hi?” 

“What?” You’ve never really been serious about it, about titsl0v3rb0i69—you never really felt like asking to meet up with him. It was always about sexting. “Why would I do that?” The truth is, you don’t feel like waiting for this guy to show up here before there is a cock inside of you. Preferably Minho’s cock. Preferably right the fuck now, please.

Minho invites you to come closer with a motion of his hand, so you sit on the edge of the bed, your thigh brushing his. He’s so warm underneath his pants, his cock right there, just—

“That’s the guy?” You feel like it’s wrong, but Minho is now staring at titsl0v3rb0i69’s leaking cock on your screen. “Text him.”

“But he doesn’t—”

“Just trust me, pretty thing.” Another flick of his tongue, his head cocked to the side. “Tell him just that. To come and say hi.”

Maybe Minho just wants to entertain the idea of it, maybe he just enjoys fucking with you. The guy is a walking mystery, but he’s interesting. 

you: come say hi in my bedroom. now.

You look at Minho just long enough to see him nod his approval. He may say whatever he wants, but now, he’s the one looking particularly eager for whatever this is. You take a deep breath as you press Send.

You see the read receipt, see the three little dots telling you that titsl0v3rb0i69 is responding. But then the dots disappear. And reappear. And disappear again.

It’s Minho’s laugh that makes you look away from the screen. 

“This is about to get good.” He touches you, making you jump as he takes your face in his hand to pull you in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth, welcoming him again, his warmth, his smell. You open your mouth for him and he devours it once more, hungry but patient, pacing himself, pulling away from you just seconds after deepening the kiss. 

titsl0v3rb0i69: what titsl0v3rb0i69: have you known the whole time titsl0v3rb0i69: you’re fucking with me

Minho’s hand lingers in your hair, ultimately resting on the side of your neck, his fingers brushing your skin slowly, lazily, like he’s trying to torment you. And he’s succeeding. He takes the phone from you, and types yet another invitation to your breast-enthusiast friend before kissing you again, leaving the phone on your bedside table next to his. 

“I don’t love the idea of sharing you,” Minho says into your mouth, his lips making you drunker than the soju did. Who kisses like that? So ardently but delicately? You’ve never been kissed like that, so you kiss him back, and he lets you pull him closer to you. “But I want to see his face.”

None of what he’s saying makes sense, but you kiss him. Again, and again. You need him. Your thighs are sticky with your arousal—it’s distracting. 

Maybe you’re too drunk. You can’t quite process what happens next, you can only witness it, your brain apparently unable to understand the events that unfold right in front of your eyes. 

Minho breaks the kiss when he hears footsteps in the hallway. He looks into your eyes with a playful smile and gets up from the bed, headed for the door, which he opens without hesitation. You quickly try to smooth out your hair and pull your shirt back down, making sure not to expose yourself to whoever is out there, after all, there’s—

But you see Jisung standing near your door, his phone in hand. It’s dark out in the apartment, but you make out that he’s only wearing a loose t-shirt and shorts. 

“You’re fucking kidding me, Lee Minho, fuck you!” Jisung spits. “You’re just fucking with me. You really can’t tell the difference between a good joke and—“

“Ah, please,” Minho cuts Jisung off, opening the door further. “Come on in, Ji—she’s so wet I could smell her.”

You frown, really trying to understand what’s going on—then your eyes land on your phone, and the screen is still showing the conversation with titsl0v3rb0i69–

Then you think about it. You really think about it. All the photos that were exchanged. The things he said, this guy. 

You look at Jisung who’s still standing near the door, looking at Minho, at you, at your room—obviously attempting to hide the leaking hard-on he has. Which you know he has because you understand now that it was him all along, this anonymous guy on the app. 

It’s him. Jisung. He’s titsl0v3rb0i, you tell yourself, the information slowly making it to your consciousness. It’s him. You realize it now, thinking back. That he did a good job disguising his identity. He really did fool you. But then, Jisung is the roommate that really can’t help looking at your cleavage… You even realize that he managed to conceal his identity by making sure you couldn’t recognize anything in the background of his pictures. 

But you also can’t deny that it makes sense and that now that you know, you see it. It really is him, and you feel like your privacy was invaded—but you also feel a little flattered, which, deep down, you know is fucked up. But it is what it is.

“It was you?” You can’t help but get up and join Minho at the door. He places a hand on the small of your back, and it makes you clench. You need him, so badly, but your shock takes over anyway. “Jisung, what the hell?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ Jisung sighs, taking a step back. “I didn’t want to be a creep, I promise, I saw you on the app and I—I didn’t know how else to approach you, and then it got out of hand…” 

Out of hand? 

“You’re a fucking creep, man.” Minho bursts into laughter and steps to the side, inviting Jisung in. “But she does get herself off to your texts rather often, I think. About time we do something about it.” 

You feel like punching him in the face. Minho. But he’s not wrong—you just hate to admit it. It’s just weird now because it’s someone you know. Someone you live with. And he did lie to you—

Before you can answer anything, Minho pushes you gently against your desk until your ass hits it, then he helps you up and you sit on it, your face flushed, heart beating fast. 

He kisses you again, this kiss of his. Minho’s lips part yours open as he settles between your thighs and you close your legs around him, pressing your core against his bulge, kissing him back. His tongue swirls in your mouth, chasing the remnants of your taste, breathing hot air into you. 

Finally. Finally, he presses his hands on your thighs, squeezing just nicely, just enough, before parting them open, even if you’ve just closed them around him. He slides them upward, and you think he might be reaching under your shirt…

He kisses you harder as his fingers brush against your pussy, and you can’t stop a very loud moan from escaping your lips. 

He presses two fingers directly against your slit and you hear it. The wet sound of his touches. Minho feels you up, his fingers gathering your arousal, teasing your clit, your entrance, making you clench with every flick of his fingers. 

He pulls away from you, but his hand remains on your thigh, smearing your arousal on your skin there, too. 

“So wet, baby doll.” He looks into your eyes, smiling. “Come here, Ji. Come see this.” 

He turns to you then. From here, you can’t see Jisung, and all you can look at is Minho’s dark eyes anyway, how they seem to be looking right into your soul. You fucking understand that he’s been wanting this, you, for a while now—and it makes you even more desperate for him.

“Soju?” he asks you, tilting his head toward the door, toward Jisung. 

“No.” you shake your head. Maybe Jisung is a creep for acting this way with you, on the app. But you don’t despise the feeling of being desired. At all. And maybe it’s getting to your head, making you make mistakes. But regret will be on the menu tomorrow—tonight, you just want to have fun. “Come on in, Ji. Close the door behind you.” 

He does just that. 

After all, for months now, Jisung has been following all of your instructions to a tee. Cum like this, don’t cum this week so you can show me your huge load after, tell me how you would fuck me, and more. At first, it just sat strangely with you—that someone would willingly let you control them this way. Until you had realized he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did. 

“How did you know?” you ask Minho while Jisung lets himself in. “That we texted?”

“Guy left his phone unlocked and unattended for too long during a video game match, I saw a preview of a picture of tits, I clicked. It was obviously you, your room in the background… So I just knew.” He leans over, his mouth grazing your ear. “When I saw the photo, your tits, pretty nipples, soft skin… I got hard immediately, baby doll.” 

But Minho pulls back before you can kiss or even touch him, and you grunt in frustration. He is effortlessly sexy. The way he speaks, his whole demeanor… How laid-back he seems, yet, intense, needy. 

“Tell me how long you’ve known it was me,” you tell Jisung after he’s closed the door. “And take off your shirt.” 

Jisung looks over at Minho, then you, then Minho again, before taking a step closer. He adjusts his shorts—you can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be for him since he’s been waiting to cum for a while. 

“I’ve… I’ve always known…” Jisung mumbles, leaving his phone on your desk, not too far from where you’re sitting on it. “Saw you on the app, made an anonymous account… I just… I just had to…”

“Just had to see my tits?” you say to finish his sentence, eliciting a new round of laughter in Minho. He does get giggly when he drinks, but this is a whole new level. “Just had to fucking lie to me, Ji? I’m your friend!”

“In his defense, you do have nice tits,” and by the way, Jisung, tonight’s safeword is soju, just so you know,” Minho says, and he pulls your shirt up to expose your breasts. “Oh, fuck… fuck, I’m leaking, baby doll… look at that… fucking look at that…” 

He dives in, going for one of them, his mouth latching around your nipple to suck and lick with such passion that you moan softly. 

“Spread your legs, baby doll,” Minho says in between licks when he goes for air. “Show him. How wet I made you.” 

You make eye contact with Jisung, expecting it to be… weird. These guys are your roommates and you’re definitely familiar with them, very familiar—being roommates entails certain things, you learn to know people intimately like that. However, it doesn’t mean it’s normal to be sprawled over the desk in your room, one roommate bruising your breast with his mouth and the other standing there, staring with wide eyes.

But it’s not weird. It should be, but it’s not. 

So you part your legs a little, then Minho finishes the job for you when he finds that you’re not open wide enough to his taste. Jisung’s eyes go from your tits to your cunt and you see him gulp, his hand instinctively going for his crotch, but stopping before he’s actually fondling himself. 

Minho slides his hand between your legs again, tickling you, making you drip some more. There will be some of your wetness on your desk. You look down, to see—but it’s the sight of Minho’s beautiful hand between your legs that catches your attention. Fuck—his fingers are so fucking pretty and skilled and he’s rubbing you, smearing your wetness all over, not making a single move to either touch your clit or actually finger you.

You roll your hips to meet with his hand, his motions, panting, eager, needy. The sound of his fingers playing with your juices…

But he pulls his hand away. He just keeps giving you crumbs and pulling the fuck away.

“Ah, so eager again,” Minho whispers into your mouth, pulling away from it, too, leaving you on your own, hanging by a thread, on this desk, a puddle actually forming underneath you. “But you haven’t done anything to deserve to cum, except looking real pretty, having a nice pair of tits and a creamy pussy. Am I right, Jisung?”

But Jisung doesn’t seem to remember how to talk. His cheeks are dark red, and he’s staring at your body, head cocked to the side, mouth open, effectively salivating.

“He’s really hard, Min,” you manage, pulling through the disappointment of not having your pussy filled, “you’re just teasing him.”

“I’m teasing both of you,” he points out. “That pretty pussy is mine, Ji,” he adds, turning to his friend. “What is it that you two text about? Because he’s not fucking you tonight, baby doll. I am.” 

“Why am I here then?” Jisung says, his voice strangled. “Let me kiss her.” He turns to you a little. “Let me kiss you.” 

You raise an eyebrow—you definitely understand the fun Minho must be having with you right now. It was one thing to do so while texting, but it’s another to speak these words out loud.

“Did you forget your manners, Ji?” you retort with a smirk.

Jisung seems a little defeated, but it looks good on him. Cute. He sighs. “Can I kiss you, please?” 

You click your tongue. “Show me your cock first.” 

Again, Jisung stares at Minho. “But he’s here.”

“Nothing I’ve never seen before, my guy,” Minho says, sitting on your rolling chair, showing off these damned thighs of his, as he manspreads comfortably on his seat. “But the only way you’ll cum tonight is if she gives you permission, so if I were you, I’d be nice to her. As she should be nice to me.”

He makes a face at you, playful, lustful, and you groan before turning to Jisung. “Show me your cock, Jisung. I want to see it.”

He doesn’t question it. Maybe he’s just as desperate as you are, and he takes off his shorts, making his way to you. As soon as he’s within reach, you pull on Jisung’s shirt, just enough to reveal his erection. You try, you try so hard to conceal your arousal, but the fact is there are two cocks in this room, and both of them are hard for you, and none of them are inside you. It’s driving you crazy.

“So nice… Ji, you’re so hard, it must hurt, doesn’t it?” His moan is definitely loud when you take him in your hand, your fingers closing around his length, your other hand venturing to feel his balls. His face twists in pain, as delicate as you are. “Oh, poor Ji—Min, look at this.” 

“You’re torturing him,” Minho points out. “I like it.” You can’t help but watch as he finally unzips his pants. “Ji, don’t touch her pussy. She’s mine.” 

Jisung topples over, drunk on the sensation of you around his length, and begins to fuck your hand—he doesn’t need any sort of lubricant to slide easily beneath your palm. You’ve never seen this much precum in your whole life. 

But you pull away. You free his cock, let him fuck the air for a few seconds before his thrusts slow down and come to a stop. More precum oozes from him, dripping on your floor.

“So eager,” you say, mimicking exactly the intonation with which Minho said it to you earlier. Multiple times. “Come kiss me instead, Ji.” 

He doesn’t wait until you change your mind—Jisung just dives right in, going for your mouth, kissing you like he’s trying to inhale you. He’s been waiting for this for… months, literally, and it shows. His mouth tastes like toothpaste, minty, a little sweet, and he plays with your tongue a little awkwardly, too busy pressing both of his hands on your tits, often leaving your lips to kiss and suckle on your neck.

“That’s it, rile her up for me, Ji,” Minho grunts, and you look to the side just in time to see him pull his whole cock and balls out, making your pussy ooze with arousal, setting your whole body on fire.

That sight. It’s enough to get high on it. Minho, his perfect body, his beautiful hand slowly wrapping itself around his even more beautiful cock—smooth, long, hard. Jisung’s relentless kneading of your tits doesn’t help, and the sight of his cock is making you dizzy too—flushed dark, leaking, veiny. It looks fucking delicious.

“If I suck you off right now, Ji, are you going to blow immediately or can you hold it?” you ask playfully, earning a smirk from Minho as he’s slowly stroking his length in meaningful motions, pausing often. He is in no hurry. “Are you going to make a mess?”

Jisung looks up into your eyes and you stare at his, his big, dark eyes, his cheeks—you even press your hand on one, to feel how soft it is—his lips, inviting, covered in drool, yours and his.

Fuck, it’s exhausting. To repress needs, to repress feelings. You’ve been living in this apartment for a long while now, with these guys, and they’re all hot as hell. 

So, fuck shame. Fuck pretending you’re not having the time of your life right now. And maybe you carry a curse. Maybe after you have sex with people, they fuck off to California. Maybe you’ll soon be on your own and have all of this living space just for you. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” you add, biting your bottom lip.

Jisung nods slowly. “I need to cum. Please, please.” 

You look over toward Minho and he rolls the chair to be closer to you even. He spreads your legs furthermore, glancing at your pussy. You see his cock twitch between his god-like thighs at the sight, and it fucking makes your brain spark.

“And I need to suck a cock,” you tell Jisung, pushing him away from you to climb down from the desk. “If you want to cum, you can cum, but it has to be on my tits. Isn't that what you wanted anyway?”

Another nod. “Yes. Yes please.”

“You’re not leaving your mess on my girl,” Minho scoffs, suppressing a moan as he’s still stroking and you’ve just pulled your shirt off. “If you blow on her tits, you eat up your load.”

“What the f—”

Your head spins at the thought as you return toward your bed to sit on the edge of it, legs spread, arousal coating your pussy and thighs. Minho spins the chair to watch, waiting, eager. 

You hear Jisung gulp, and he crosses the room to join you. “Be good for me, Ji,” you instruct, and waste no time grabbing his cock and closing your mouth around his tip.

The sound escaping his lips is unholy. It’s the sound of a desperate man—you taste despair on his cock, his precum, bitter, salty, the flavor so strong it fills your mind for a few seconds. His cock takes up all of the space in your mouth and you do not need to coat it in your saliva—you just press your tongue underneath it, squeezing him at the base, before moving your head around it.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck I’m so close, so close please, please—”

“Mm—mm,” you hum around him, shaking your head left and right, not giving him the green light for his release, and Jisung squirms around, his knees going limp at the vibration of your voice around him. 

“Fuck, baby doll—you take him so well—” Minho’s praise is like icing on the cake, and you can’t resist rolling your hips a little, seeking friction, for contact, or anything. “So eager, so pretty. Are you going to cum from sucking his cock?” 

You can’t help it anyway. You keep riding your mattress, barely paying attention to what you’re doing to Jisung—but you give him a good suck, often returning to his tip to collect more of his precum on your tongue. 

“Damn, his balls are so tight,” Minho says, his stroking taking up a bit of a pace. You notice how flushed his cock looks now, and it makes you moan around Jisung, who moans in return, setting both of his hands around your head to pull you closer to his navel, effectively pushing you as far onto his cock as you can take him. “Careful, Ji. She’s mine.” 

Minho isn’t wrong, but it’s debilitating to feel full, somewhere, anywhere. You put your hands on Jisung’s thighs, controlling his pace a little because you feel him throb against your tongue. Fuck. Fuck. 

You look up to take in the sight of him. His little whimpers. His pretty face, his hair sticking to his sweat at his temples. His mouth hanging open, the furrow between his brows. You know all of his energy is directed toward not cumming. 

The chair is rolled even further closer to you, and Minho pulls Jisung away from you—not without earning himself a good amount of curses and insults from the man whose cock was just in your mouth. 

“I want you to cum with him in your mouth,” Minho tells you. “Can you do this for me, baby doll?” 

You nod, parting your legs, your lips, offering you to him, to the both of them, your heart beating fast, pussy fucking oozing. 

Minho presses his fingers against your dripping core, twisting them to tease your entrance and rub his thumb onto your clit. When you reach for him, his cock, he pushes your hand away, offering you his trademark smirk. 

Which is just as well, as you’re already overwhelmed, his fingers playing with you. You bite your own lip, trying to suppress your moans, your whimpers, but you just can’t—he’s good. He’s too good. 

Only the very tip of his fingers pushes past your entrance for now, as his rubbing of your clit becomes a little more pressing. Your breathing deepens, ending in moans, and you roll your hips tentatively at first, then more, and more. You need him. Something. 

“Ji—“ your eyelids flutter when Minho stretches your entrance some more, letting you fuck his fingers, riding them like you want to ride him. Hard. “Come here.” 

Jisung obliges, of course. His cock returns to your mouth, your tongue twirling around him at the same pace as Minho’s relentless fingering. By god, this is not the first clit he touches. The guy is a walking mystery, and the more time you spend with him, the more it feels like all that you find out about him are more secrets and very few revelations.

Jisung throbs again, his breathing turned into desperate whimpers. His legs are shaking with anticipation. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” Minho purrs, and that’s when you realize he’s going to make you cum. 

There is no more teasing. He pushes his fingers inside you, his sliding made easy by how fucking wet he got you. You feel him, only him, despite the urgent throbs from Jisung on your tongue. 

You cry out, choked out by Jisung’s hard cock but you cry out anyway, as it’s the only possible reaction to how relentless Minho is—knuckles deep inside of you, fingers twisted to reach the exact spot he needs to get you there, as if he had studied you. His thumb working your clit like his life depends on it, his thighs, his fucking thighs, Jisung’s pretty face and his cute moans and the way it feels when you meet Minho’s hand with your hips and—

You cum so hard that your whole body convulses and falls forward a little bit, making you properly choke on Jisung’s cock, but you don’t need to breathe. Your pussy pulses around Minho’s three fingers, pleasure rippling throughout your whole body, making you lose any control over anything. You are an orgasm, all that you experience, for a few seconds, is this—a thumb on your clit, not letting go despite your pleasure having reached its high, and three fingers violently ramming into you, and you cum, you just cum. Bliss. Ecstasy. Finally.

A cock throbbing in your mouth. A hand clinging to your hair, desperately. 

Minho uses his free hand to pull you away from Jisung—he wraps it around your neck and releases you from him, exactly two seconds before Jisung cums, too. 

And, hell, does he cum. Uncontrollably, all over your face, your tits. You’re still riding the last waves of your high, your hips rolling slowly to ride Minho’s hand, but you manage to take Jisung in your hand, just in time to feel a couple of really strong pulses and give him a few strokes.

You witness it all, Jisung coming undone, spilling himself on you, his thick cum sticking to your tits, hips bucking. He shoots three loads, during which you rub him gently—the aftershock only delivers a few drops of cum, which you thumb away from his tip and smear onto his sensitive length before letting it go. Jisung collapses on his knees, his head falling on your thighs, panting, heaving, relieved. 

“You did good, Ji,” you tell him, playing with his soft hair, still a little out of breath from your own orgasm. 

“You smell so good—” Jisung mutters, his face dangerously close to your pussy. He looks fucked out, and it suits him. Unfocused eyes, flushed face, messy hair. You almost wish you had found out he was titsl0v3rb0i69 before.

“FUCK NO!” Minho grabs Jisung by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back. “You had her mouth, and that sweet cunt is mine. So you better remember the deal we made, because I’m about to go have a taste of that pretty thing.” 

There is so little hesitation in Jisung that it almost makes you reconsider everything you thought you knew about life. You would have expected post-nut clarity to have reached Jisung, except he simply leans over towards your chin, where the first spray of his cum hit you, and licks it off you. 

The sensation alone is so lewd that you feel your still sensitive, still needy pussy flutter, almost like a late aftershock. He licks you like he would lick an ice cream cone, his tongue flat on your skin, gathering as much as he can. He makes a face when he swallows, but moves on to your neck, licking, swallowing, licking, swallowing. 

It tickles you, your skin, your mind. A whole ass dude is eating his cum off your tits, and another dude is stroking his cock to that sight, licking his other hand, the one he just fucked you with. Your room smells like sex—hell, you’re dizzy from that scent alone. Musky, thick. Delightful.

The instant Jisung is done cleaning you up, Minho is up from the chair, his pants and underwear discarded. He lays you down on your own bed, kneeling in front of you, kissing your lips. The weight of his body on yours is enough to make you squirm under him, trying to feel as much of him as you can. 

“My turn now, baby doll.” He breathes this into your mouth, in between kisses, his hands on you, starting fires everywhere they go. “I’m famished.”

Minho’s mouth leaves yours, leaving kisses and bites as he makes his way between your legs—while he’s making himself comfortable down there, you catch a glimpse of Jisung who took Minho’s seat. He still looks stunned and his cock seems to be returning to a more normal color, but he’s stroking it, his eyes on you. Minho follows your gaze to stare, too, shaking his head.

“Wanna eat more of your cum off her, Ji?” he asks, his face so close to your pussy that you felt his breath on you, making your body jerk a little. “Fine by me.” Then, to you, “You may want to look at me for this part, baby doll. I hear it’s quite a thing to see.” 

So you look, watching carefully as Minho parts you open with one hand, biting his lip at the sight of your pussy. 

“So creamy for me, baby. Fuck—” But you don’t hear the rest of it, because Minho pounces on you, devouring you whole. 

He’s everywhere. He licks your slit, lapping at you intently, harvesting your juices. And there are plenty of them, but he quite literally eats you up, swallowing you. He seems enraged almost, or maybe just particularly focused… 

You want to keep watching, but you can’t. Minho is too skilled with his mouth, knowing exactly how and when to move his head to accentuate his licking and sucking, knowing to give you just a few seconds of rest before moving onto another part of your sensitive pussy.

“Min—” Your fists close around the comforter covering your bed. “Yes, fuck—don’t stop, don’t stop—” He’s getting you close again and you want nothing more than this sweet, sweet release. 

You’ve become too acquainted with your vibrator. You need more. And Minho's mouth is exactly what you've been craving.

But Minho pulls away, looking at you with his head cocked to the side, some of your cream still coating his beautiful lips. For now, he makes no attempt at wiping it away, looking stunning and unholy on your bed, his cock hard between his perfect thighs. You need him to fuck you.

“Please—” It’s as if cumming around his fingers hadn’t been enough, had only made you want more. “Don’t stop.” 

In the end, he does stick his tongue out, harvesting your essence on his lips, making sure not to waste any. “You taste too fucking good, baby doll.” 

From your chair, Jisung grunts at this—it seems like he’s gotten mostly hard again, fucking his own hand slowly.

“Please.” You don’t like begging, it annoys you. But his cock is right there, and you’re so empty. “Min, I want you.” 

“You want me?” Minho’s left eyebrow disappears between his soft brown hair. “So eager… are you always this much of a slut? Were you this easy with Channie boy, too?” 

He buries his hand between your legs, his fingers teasing you, his touch so light you barely feel it. But you feel it, and he knows how to drive you crazy. 

“Answer me, baby doll.” With that, he puts two fingers against your clit, rubbing in circles, building you up again. “Are you a slut or not?” 

“No, I—” The teasing of your pussy stops after your declaration, and Minho watches you from his location, shaking his head. “I’m just—”

“You’re lying.” Minho is smiling with his mouth, but his gaze alone could kill. It makes you whimper, it makes you wet, makes you part your legs even farther. “Aren’t you?”

All it took for you and Chan to end up in bed were a few shots of whiskey. All it took for you, Jisung and Minho to end up here was a few bottles of soju. 

“Are you a slut, baby doll?” 

You sigh, aching for him, aching to hear it coming from your mouth. You know he won't fuck you if you don't say it anyway. “Yes.”

“Yes, what? Say it. Tell me you’re a slut while I eat your pretty pussy, will you?” 

But you can’t—not at first. Minho’s mouth is on you again, his tongue dancing on your clit. Directly on your clit. He teases, he flicks, and you writhe on the bed, trying to grind against his face, except that he’s firmly holding you down, and you’re not quite free to move. It makes it worse. It makes it better. 

Your fingers find his head though, and you grab him by his pretty soft hair, attempting to push him further onto you. You need to cum again. But he pulls away from your grasp, slurping on your pussy like he’s on death row and you’re his last fucking meal.

Your moans fill the room which is already filled with the scent of sex and sweat, laced with mint and Minho’s cologne. But he doesn’t stop, locking his delicate lips around your clit, teasing your soaked entrance with the tip of his fingers. 

“So, so wet, so sweet… You are a slut, baby doll. Being so wet like this.” This, Minho says into your pussy, and you can barely hear him, but you can fucking feel the vibrations of his voice inside you.

“Yes—” He’s so good. His mouth is wet and warm, and he savors you. “Min—”

“Say it,” Minho grunts, and you notice a few beads of sweat pearling on his forehead and temples. “That you’re a slut. That you fucking love to be disrespected.” 

Oh god, oh god—after uttering this filth, Minho goes back to your clit, sucking hard on it, too hard really. It’s almost painful. It’s almost the best thing you ever fucking felt. 

“I’m—I’m—” you pant, mouth and legs wide open, at the mercy of this man with the magic mouth. “I’m—I’m a slut—I—” you whine loudly when Minho’s fingers tease your hole, just the very edge of it. “Disrespect me, Min. I—I—Fucking disrespect me, please—” 

“ARGH!” Minho retreats from your dripping cunt, only to flip you on your stomach and pull you closer. “Yes, that’s it, fucking slut. Fucking finally. I’ll disrespect you.” 

It’s as if you had unlocked something within him. But you’re too far gone to really think about it—sprawled on all fours on your bed, you feel Minho’s hard cock pressed against your thigh, his weight on you, his breath in your ear. 

“I’ll fuck you like the whore you are, baby doll,” he whispers, just for you. Then, to Jisung, he adds, “She’s been doing quite well so far, don’t you think?”

“Yes, she’s so pretty, look at her tits…” You hear Jisung’s answer but can’t see him from this angle. However, you can hear the lust in his voice and it gives you chills. 

“Come look at her face while I ruin her.” 

Minho aligns himself with your entrance, immediately pushing in, the stretch of it making you gasp like you were just kicked in the stomach. He grabs your waist, gripping hard, and slams you onto him, bottoming out in one powerful thrust. 

“HOLY FUCK—” Minho is a walking mystery, and a quiet guy, except for when he’s really into something. So he must be really into you, because the curses that follow his initial push are uttered at a volume entirely too high for the context and the hour. 

But you don’t care. You take a deep breath as you adjust to his size. You’ve been empty this whole time, months, and he’s been on the other side of this wall this whole time with this cock of his. How did it take so long for him to finally fill you up?

Because that’s what he does. Giving a few tentative thrusts, Minho begins fucking you from behind, pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow, taking up all of the space within you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck Min—” you don’t really want him to stop, but you’re lightheaded from the way he’s fucking you. “So fucking big—”

You try to match him, match his pace, meet him with your own hips when you can, but he’s too fast, too strong. You didn’t expect him to be that strong, but you should have known he was. 

And the way he just grunts every time he sinks back into you, seemingly deeper than the last time, drives you crazy. 

“So fucking tight—” Minho groans, picking up a bit of a pace. “That cunt was meant for my cock, baby doll.”

He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back. He’s warm and sweaty, but so are you, and his weight feels good on you. He wraps his hand around your throat, anchoring himself to you, this new angle providing him even more depth—he’s fucking you so hard and so deep you’re pretty sure it will leave bruises. 

His fingers squeeze you a little, the supple skin of your throat, making you moan at this added contact. But he’s everywhere inside you, your plush walls hugging his throbbing cock, his hot breath on the side of your face. It’s all that you hear. His body slamming into yours, your panting, his panting, Jisung’s little whimpers, and your juices oozing out of you with every thrust. It's all that you feel. His cock, thick, perfect, filling you.

“Min,” you moan, almost collapsing, when he pulls you even closer to him, his body flush with yours. You’ve never been fucked like this. “Min, yes please please, so good, so big…”

“You like it, huh?” he says into your ear, just for you. “You like the way I fuck you, my pretty little thing?” 

You nod, your voice taken away from you when Minho abruptly comes to a halt, still buried inside of you. It feels like speeding on a highway and crashing into a wall, leaving you breathless. 

His fingers close in a little more around your throat. It hurts just enough. 

“Ji, why don’t you come closer?” Minho pulls back from you a little, yet sinks his cock deeper inside of you, eliciting a loud moan from the both of you. “She looked so pretty with a cock in her mouth.” 

Jisung doesn’t need to be told twice—in two seconds, he is back in front of you, his knees leaning against the mattress for support, his cock right under your eyes. 

Minho resumes his pounding into you at the same time as you part your lips to take Jisung into your mouth again. Minho has one hand on your waist, the other on your ass, fondling you, squeezing you hard enough to make you moan, while Jisung has both of his hands in your hair, clinging to you like you’re the pillar holding his whole life together. Which, at the moment, is not wrong—you swallow his cock whole, gagging on it, sucking on it, giving it all the attention you can despite being largely distracted by how Minho is currently ravaging your dripping cunt. 

He’s ruining you, he’s spoiling you, the way he rolls his hips perfectly makes his cock hit just the right spots to send you over the edge. 

“Fuck,” Jisung mutters. He throbs on your tongue, and you close your lips a little more around his length, moving your head upward to move onto him. “Oh fuck, fuck—”

“She takes you so well,” Minho points out, “but you better finish quick, I want to hear her voice again.” 

He’s close, you know it. Jisung. He forgets his manners and you let him, you let him fuck your mouth, your lips swollen and raw from the friction and the sucking, his precum and your spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. He gasps every time you moan, and you know Minho is actively trying to make you moan, just to mess with Jisung’s head.  

But it’s all you can do and you let it happen, overcome with ecstasy.

Jisung grabs your hair and pulls you in, gagging you with his cock. He whispers your name when he cums, pulsing in your mouth, emptying himself in your throat, filling your mouth with his bitter, musky taste. You cough as he pulls out, a string of cum and drool following his cock. 

“Oh fuck, fuck look at that—” Minho says, strangled, fucking you harder at that sight. “You like this, don’t you?”

You make eye contact with Jisung when you swallow his whole load, licking your lips clean as he leans against the wall behind him, spent. “Yes—”

“Yes what?” Minho accentuates his question with a rather gentle slap on your ass, just enough to sting a little, definitely enough to make you squirm and clench around him. “You like it when I fuck your tight pussy? You like it when my friend cums in your pretty mouth? You like it when we disrespect you?”

“Yes I like it—” but your sentence dies off when Minho’s hand leaves your ass to make it to your clit. Oh god, oh god, is all you can think now. “I’m gonna—”

“You want to cream around my cock, baby doll?” Minho’s voice would be enough for you to cum, it feels like. Or maybe it’s just because he’s balls deep inside your soaked pussy, rubbing with your clit intently. “Say it to me again.”

It takes you a few seconds to be able to form a sentence anyway, during which Minho's fucking switched to a different style—just as powerful, but a little slower. Deeper. 

You look up, trying to anchor yourself to something, anything—in the process, your gaze falls on the mirror on your wall, next to where Jisung is still trying to gather himself back together.

And you see him. Minho. In all of his glory. His thighs, the muscles in them tensed up from holding his own release and from fucking you at the right angle. His hand on your waist, his fingers in your skin—

The way he looks down every single time he sinks back into you, watching carefully his cock sinking into your heat with every roll of his hips… 

Oh god, oh god. You can’t stop staring. Since when do you do this? Since when do you let guys raw you like this, like you’re a slut? Taking your mouth, taking you from behind?

Like you enjoy being disrespected?

“Disrespect me, Min—” you urge him. You need him. You need him to fill you up. The heat pooling between your legs is overwhelming, and you feel the knot tighten in your gut under his relentless teasing of your clit and Minho’s resolution at fucking you dumb. “Don’t pull out—”

He moans when you say this, the most beautiful moan you’ve heard from him so far. You lose any composure that you still had—but so does he, his fucking becoming a little erratic. 

“Cum for me, baby doll,” he whispers, and he is back closer to you, his weight on you, rubbing your clit and holding you in place as he rams into you. “Let me hear those pretty moans of yours, then I’ll fill your sweet cunt.”

He is everywhere, his cock brushing your walls, massaging them, hitting deep. Minho’s cologne sticks to your skin like poison and an antidote at once. He shows no mercy, and you watch him watch you, imagining your cream coating his throbbing cock as your walls flutter around him, as the knot in your stomach comes undone. 

You cum hard, right onto Minho’s cock, moaning for him, just for him, just like he wanted, and your orgasm shatters you to pieces. You collapse onto the bed, face first, your body going limp as the last of your pleasure hits you. 

“So pretty, so tight—” Minho can’t say much more than this—your pussy is so sensitive after all of the stimulation that you feel the throb, then the pulse, then the first spray of his load. A throaty moan escapes him as he fucks you deeper, your fluttering walls extracting every possible drop from him. 

You can barely see, but you see enough—Minho, standing proud, looking like a God, emptying himself in you. Fuck. Fuck, what a sight. 

The guy is a walking mystery, but he fucks like a god.

He collapses beside you after one last powerful thrust and a few playful bites, but already, Jisung is gathering his shorts from the floor. You’re too fucked out to bother, but you appreciate the feeling of Minho’s warm and sweaty body so close to yours. You’re full of him, quite literally—his seed drips out of you. It’s filthy. It’s hot. You must be a little bit of a slut, then, because you bask in the moment, in the warmth, the satisfaction of it all. 

“First shower goes to me!” Minho calls as Jisung is pulling the door open. You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the eye again, considering that he was eating his own cum off your body just a few moments ago. 

“Fuck you! I’m literally covered in both of you!” you retort, elbowing him in his side, but you stay in bed, and so does Minho. 

“Huh, goodnight guys—” Jisung says after pulling his shorts back on. He’s looking toward you but avoiding eye contact. 

“Night night, Ji,” Minho responds, propping himself up on one elbow. In the intimacy of the moment, you feel his softening cock, still wet, sticky, pressed against your thigh. It's nice. “You still getting lunch for all of us tomorrow, right?”

“What?”

“Earlier. You said you’d get lunch for all of us,” Minho reminds him, a smirk painting itself on his face. How does he manage to stay this handsome after fucking you so hard? 

“Oh.” Jisung’s gulp is so loud that the next building over probably heard it. “Sure, yeah. Whatever.” 

Jisung disappears in the hallway. The apartment is dark and silent, and you expect shame or regret to hit you, but nothing does. Minho is staring at the crack of the door, and you take a second to admire his profile—the perfect jawline, his lips, his nose. 

He kisses you softly on your lips, wincing and pulling back with a chuckle. “You taste like Ji,” he says, shrugging, but going back to kiss you again. Fuck, it’s almost enough to make you want to go another round, this kiss, how his mouth tastes like you and yours like Jisung. 

He really is a good kisser. He helps you clean up quickly and picks up your shorts.

“You can have it,” he says. “The first shower.”

You shake your head. Truth be told, you hadn’t had that much food at dinner, and you are both hungry and thirsty. “Go shower but leave some hot water for me, please?”

“No problem, baby doll.” Minho offers you one last kiss, a smirk, and you watch him walk away. 

Instead of putting on your clothes, you just throw on your favorite robe and begin pulling all the sheets off your bed. You can’t possibly sleep on this bed as it is tonight—and it looks like your desk and floor will need a thorough cleaning as well, but maybe that could wait a few hours. 

You make your way to the laundry room and throw everything in the washing machine before heading back to the kitchen. There better be some snacks left, you tell yourself opening the fridge. Maybe some grapes, some cheese, and a tall glass of juice will do. 

You’re halfway through the grapes when you hear footsteps in the hallway. You didn't expect to be face to face with your mistake so soon after it happened, but maybe it was better off this way. Like ripping the band-aid off. “Want some grapes, Ji? They’re really good—” 

“No, thank you,” Hyunjin replies, standing in the door frame for two seconds exactly before entering the kitchen and walking past you. Just like earlier after you got back from work drenched in rain, you are painfully aware that you look like shit right now. “Hope you washed your hands before touching the food, though?” 

You almost choke on your fruit and turn to Hyunjin, grateful to have left the light off, because warmth immediately spreads on your face. The intonation in his voice leaves very little space for imagination—it’s obvious that he’s very much aware of what just took place in your room. In hindsight… none of you were particularly quiet during the whole incident. So unless Hyunjin had very good noise-canceling headphones…

In slow, careful motions, he grabs a glass from the cabinet and opens the fridge to grab the water pitcher. He’s still wearing the robe from earlier.

“What is it with you and your roommates, anyway?” he asks, putting the pitcher back and leaning against the counter to drink his water. “Is that a specific kink of yours or something?” Again, that intonation—you easily figure out that he knows about Chan, too.

You look within you for a few fucks to give, but you’re past that. You’ve wanted to move out from here for a while anyway, and you’re certainly not about to let this pretty boy ruin the fun you just had. 

“What about it?” you put a grape to your lips, still raw and pink from kissing and sucking cock, and bite down on it, releasing its juice into your sore mouth. 

Hyunjin shrugs, finishing his water in one go. “Just, wasn’t it a bit selfish of you three not to let me in on the fun?” 

He shrugs, offering you a wink and leaving the kitchen with his water, and you stare at the space Hyunjin was in just then, stunned. 

It’s hard to decide whether tonight confirms you really, really ought to move out, or if maybe you should stick around a little longer, after all. 

♡ taglist : @moasworld @cb97percent @koorumis @changbinluvrs @neosracha @svintsandghosts

a/n: thank you for reading this mess! I am quite aware that it's very different from pretty much anything I've ever written, but I hope it wasn't too, too bad. Please know that reblogs are the best way to support an author and they are so, so appreciated. Replies/comments are appreciated as well, thank you guys! ♡

[j-0ne25]

SURFIN’ (18+!)

SYNOPSIS: It’s been two exhausting years, so you’re glad to finally fully reopen your family’s restaurant. Especially, since your childhood friend Felix always visits you for the summer. But unfortunately you haven’t reckoned with his friend staying there as well, annoying the hell out of you by teaching his surfing courses exactly in front of your restaurant.

🐚 GENRE: nonidol!au, enemies2lovers, smut, fluff (I guess but definitely no angst in this one – I know, unbelievable)

☀ WORD COUNT: 7.1k

🏝 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab!reader, bartender!reader, surfcoach!chan, enemy!chan, childhoodfriend!felix, felix and chan are coworkers, reader is still attending university

🍸 WARNING: alcohol consumption, brief mention of pandemic, jealousy (both chan and reader)

🫧 SMUT WARNING: dom!chan, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv, unprotected sex (pls don’t be stupid), marking, slight choking, breast play, praise, possessive behaviour (chan), name calling (heavy use of babygirl – it is a chan fic after all, doll, good girl and brat once), exhibitionism (idk they’re on the beach but no one witnesses them)

🐬 AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my post for @skzseasons “hot dom summer”! I had a lot of fun writing this one so I hope the tags will work :/ pls keep in mind English isn’t my first language. If you’ve enjoyed this fic, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated 💙 also can we talk about how tall chan looks in that pic

🌊 spotify playlist 🏄🏻

The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Also minors do not interact, this post contains mature themes. By clicking on “read more” you consent to nsfw content.

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“Can I get anything else for you?” The group of young people, seemingly here on vacation, shakes their heads in unison to your question. It’s not as busy as usual, the lowering temperatures are definitely responsible for that – overnight the air has dropped by almost ten degrees.

On one hand, you’re glad to get some time to yourself. Days on which the beach bar is full of people drain you out the most. On the other hand, it’s bad not having as many customers as expected and already calculated for the summer.

It’s a family business after all and even though you’re just here during university vacation, your parents really need every cent they can get considering inflation and your college degree. If this wasn’t stressful enough, you need to add another year of studying. So you really need the money.

Your mum and dad both told you not to worry about it, but you see it every time in their eyes whenever someone mentions any financial topic. They’re practically on the verge of bankruptcy, over two years of a pandemic have left wounds on their beloved restaurant and everything they have created over nearly twenty years. And it shows.

As if it was yesterday, you fully remember the first time taking a step on the wooden floor of the beach bar. Back then, it was barely considered a building, as the place consisted of ruins – prefabricated components, wooden slats and a cover made out of moist straw that wasn’t anything near something called a ‘roof’.

So, they’ve invested everything they had, every last cent, into ‘Levanter’ – a word you’d made up at the ripe age of three. You can’t remember what it was supposed to be. Still, you remember explaining that the tone of the syllables sounds exactly like the waves of the ocean when they hit the shore. You’ve always been a creative brain, making up scenarios and the wildest ideas in your head – up until this day.

That’s exactly the reason why your mind keeps drifting away at any chance it gets. The same counts for now, your brain once again occupied by your little thoughts about life, when two new customers sit down at the table closest to the ocean.

“Where’s my favourite bartender?” 

The familiar voice causes your head to snap in the direction of its source, the deep tone instantly to be recognised. “Felix!” You shout, already making your way to the human version of the sunshine that’s hiding today. A wide smile is erupting all over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

What a surprise. You really haven’t expected your childhood friend to come back so early this year.

To be fair, you ran out of touch some time ago. It’s been half a decade since you’ve graduated high school. Felix moved away to another country for his computer science degree while you’ve stayed here, studying tourism economics at the local college.

But it’s become a tradition that every summer the both of you meet here. From time to time he brings his cousin Minho with him who’s at the same time a kind soul who’s offered him a roof over his head in Seoul and has helped him feel welcomed in that foreign place.

Minho has visited your hometown twice, both summers before the pandemic and even though he seems intriguing to most people, you’ve gotten along quite well.

When you finally reach the table Felix is sitting at, you notice another guy right beside him, his face not visible to you. For a second you hope it’s Minho again but the blonde curls aren’t familiar.

“What can I get for you?”

It’s not Minho, you can definitely tell now.

“What? No greeting? No hugging?”

Sometimes Felix sounds like a weird nice-guy captured inside a nerd’s body and he doesn’t even realise. Luckily, you know he’s nothing like that at all so you just chuckle at his request, waiting for him to get up.

His scent lingers in your nose once you both embrace each other, glad to finally be together again. Abruptly, Felix pulls away once he realises he hasn’t introduced his other friend yet.

“Oh god– my bad. Y/N, this is Chan. He’s a friend from college and now my coworker. Chan, this is Y/N. We went to kindergarten and school together.”

Chan gives you a warm smile, his curls are hiding a bit of his face but it makes him look like a golden retriever.

“Oh, wow. You’ve known each other for so long, that’s so cool.”

The first impression this new guy gives you isn’t that bad either and you hope you’ll get along with him as well. Obviously, because he’s a good friend of Felix’s. Not because he’s so cute.

“Yes. Felix is my oldest friend,” you tell him until something else comes to your mind, “but wait– I’m not that busy but how about I first get the both of you something to drink?”

The boys appreciate your hospitality and a few minutes later, you bring them their order.

“You guys work together?” Your question is supposed to fill the awkward silence and you’re glad about the fact it’s still not busy at this moment. Your friend offers you to sit down, which you do.

“We work at the same company and graduated this month. Still feels so weird to be an adult.” You chuckle at Chan’s sentence. “And you’re working here full time?”

“Only during summer. It’s my parent’s place. I study tourism economics and I’ll be in my last year soon.”

Chan nods interestedly while taking a sip from his drink.

“It’s probably good to let your brain get a break from all the stress. Believe me, we’re definitely exhausted as well,” Felix reassures you just like he's always had.

“Yeah, I can imagine. It must be pretty wearying to jump right into a job after finishing your degree. Especially with computer science.”

“If you ever have some free time and want to try something fun,” Chan begins and for a second you hold your breath – why is this insanely attractive dude offering something like that – “I can sign you up for my surfing course here that I’ll be coaching.”

Okay. We’re gonna take back every positive thought we’ve had about him.

A surfing course.

In your hometown.

Coached by him.

Is he just clumsy or blatantly rude?

“What makes you guess I don’t know how to surfe?”

Chan’s mouth falls agape once he realises what he’s just said. The boy is committing a blunder after another when he’s trying to coax the situation, palpably making everything worse.

“I–I don’t know, you must be busy with everything. I just didn’t expect you to be into surfing, that’s all.”

The blonde doesn’t actually believe you’re not capable of doing this type of sport. It’s just – he’d be lying if he didn’t say he finds you attractive. But Chan has always had the issue to become shy in such situations and his conversations always turn awkward soon.

“Because of what? I don’t look like it? Am I not athletic enough?” You provoke him now, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you sit back on your chair.

“No– that’s not what I– I’ve been surfing for my whole life so you see– I’m very experienced– I was just trying to be nice–“

Your scoff cuts him off. “Ah, sure. You can try your little pickup line next time with an actual tourist.”

As if all your prayers have been heard, right at this moment a group of people enters the restaurant, allowing you to excuse yourself from the table the boys are sitting. Felix hushes a quick ‘goodbye’ after you but you’re only waving at him.

♡

Monday starts with – luckily – way more guests entering the bar, alone at breakfast hours you’re as busy as you haven’t been the whole past week. Temperatures are rising again and summer vacation for students at school has finally started. The place is crowded to say the least but you’re enjoying it. Enjoying getting in contact with customers again, enjoying mixing the fancy drinks and enjoying seeing your parents happy about the increasing income. 

But the more hours pass by and once brunch time is finally over, the more this tiny specific detail is slowly getting on your nerves.

The detail being none other than Chan.

His job has started as well, he’s mostly occupied during the afternoon since that’s when mainly children and teenagers are attending his course. 

There wouldn’t be any big problem with it, it’s only a surfing course after all, but for whoever the hell knows he’s decided to teach those people right in front of your restaurant.

As anyone can imagine, this does wonders to the volume around here. Noisy. This is definitely the best word to describe the general atmosphere. 

You’re sincerely getting worried it will scare the customers away, after all you’re not the only restaurant around in this touristic area of the beach. So when you notice him having a minute to himself, the children he’s currently teaching are busy with preparing the next exercise, you decide to do something about it.

Laying the towel aside, since you’re working at the bar this afternoon, you head towards him. The blonde is unaware of you, judging from his surprised face once you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi, Chan. I just wanted to ask– you know, maybe you could do your course over there or somewhere else?” You point at a less crowded area on the beach.

The boy just chuckles and looks down on you, crossing his arms in front of his chest and you’re glad he's wearing a tank top. After all, it's only the first day of teaching this class and you’re glad about that. To be fair, you’re having a hard time focusing on anything else than his muscular arms here.

But you would never admit that. Chan is annoying. He has been since he’s asked you to join his surfing class and you would have forgiven him by now, but the fact he’s indirectly shushing customers away doesn’t make it any easier for him.

Still, this hypothesis has to be proven right. You’re open about giving him another chance.

“Why would I?”

Hypothesis proven right. 

“Because there’s literally enough space anywhere else and you’re driving off the potential customers.”

He sarcastically chuckles at your demand.

“Yeah. Like I’d care.”

With this statement he turns around again, telling the children to gather around as he continues his teaching session.

Some days pass by without even half a second of calmness from the storm – also known as surfcoach Chan. He’s really getting on your nerves and it doesn’t help that Felix isn’t that much available, busy with working remotely.

Your friend even suggested that you accept that offer to attend the course, leaving you completely dumbfounded. How dare he? Sometimes it annoys you, that Felix always tries to be the friendliest person in the room, afraid to pick sides.

It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. You’re embarrassed you’re even making such a fuss about all this but events are accumulating.

So today you finally have thought everything would be a bit better, a bit more relaxed. Chan is out of sight, that’s why you choose to spend your lunch break at the beach with an iced coffee you’ve made at the restaurant. Luckily, you find a free spot since it’s one of those cloudier days again.

Taking a deep breath, you allow the summer breeze to touch your skin, as you close your eyes and immerse yourself into the moment. 

Calmness.

That’s what you deserve and are finally getting. After these few days of noise, arguing with Chan over work stuff, hoping the fights themselves won’t scare costumes away, you're finally getting some time to relax. You’ve deserved it.

Splash.

You’re stirred from your daydreaming when cold droplets of water hit your upper arms, making you open your eyes abruptly.

“Oops,” you hear from beside you, only a few meters away.

Snapping your head around in disbelief, no other than Chan stands in your vision now, a mischievous smirk decorating his face.

Choosing to ignore it – possibly it wasn’t his fault, after all he’s teaching a surfing course which involves water – you take a step back and continue enjoying your break.

But Chan isn’t satisfied with your decision, that’s why he instructs his students to move places until they’re exercising and practicing right in front of the space you’re sitting now.

And the worst part is – his students are finally confident and skilled enough to get into the water alone, even though he still responsibly bats an eye on them.

But the problem that comes with this is – Chan is going in the water as well.

In his swimming trunks.

Without a shirt on.

It is anything but relaxing to try focusing on something else when he’s looking this good. Of course, you’ve already expected it but actually witnessing his firm chest and abs – slightly wet since he’s just been in the water – is your personal nightmare at the moment.

To your own disaster, he catches a glimpse of your eyes trailing his body. Blood instantly rushes to your head, embarrassment is plastered all over your face.

Exit.

There’s no other way out than deciding your lunch break is over right at that second. That’s why you stand up and stumble away, almost dripping over your own feet.

But you wouldn’t be Y/N, if you weren’t already planning a pretty little act of revenge in your head.

♡

The best possibility to get back at Chan is defeating him with his own weapons – meaning, you’ll annoy him just as he does, particularly when he’s trying to take a break from tutoring.

After picking and putting on your most revealing swimwear, you approach him on the beach where he’s currently sitting, sipping on his bottle of water, possibly taking his lunch break. Completely unaware of his surroundings, the blonde is deeply focused on how the waves move and hit the shore.

Until you’re standing in his vision, painfully slowly taking the first steps into the water, acting as if you haven’t noticed him. Deciding to torture him a bit more – with your own weapons of your body – you firstly dip in the sea, before swimming a bit further until you’re completely covered in the salt water.

You take a deep breath and dive a bit, so your hair gets a chance to get wet as well. Still, you blame the positive side effect of feeling refreshed to be your intention for all these actions.

Turning around again, you head towards the beach, instantly catching Chan staring at you. His jaw clenches, when he observes you from your front – your chest glistening because of the water, tits almost falling out of the way too tiny bikini top that you’ve chosen for this specific reason.

Chan’s gaze is fixated on your every move, hands balled into fists as he desperately tries to grip the sand beside him. 

Whilst leaving the water, you wring the water out of your hair, before seductively throwing the strands behind your back. In the process, some droplets splash in his direction, making him shift his position.

“Oops,” he hears you say, as you’re slowly approaching him.

“I’m sorry I made you wet.”

A wink is added to your sentence and Chan is furious. His blood is boiling like crazy and he’s severely anxious his increasing problem inside his swimming trunks will become visible if you don’t stop anytime soon.

To his luck, you decide that’s enough to provoke him and you leave the area he’s sitting at.

But there’s no way he’ll admit his defeat yet.

This is only the beginning and a checkmate isn’t within reach yet – for neither of you.

♡

The next days consist of nothing else then riling each other up in the most desperate ways. Even Felix senses it – he even suggests the two of you to just ‘fuck the tension out’ but neither of you want to let the other win.

Today isn’t any different, you’re busy at the bar as usual, chatting with a few guests here and there until your eyes spot a specific scene on the beach.

Long blonde hair waving through the wind, she approaches Chan, definitely aware about the fact he’s at least ten years younger than her. 

Observing the scene from afar, you keep telling yourself you don’t care about it.

That’s why you focus on every detail.

Because you don’t care.

You really don’t.

They’ve passed the greeting part already, she’s whispering syllables in his ear, leaning closer every time she’s finished a sentence. A giggle leaves her lips a few times and Chan’s smile awakens.

But you don’t care.

He points at the surfboard behind him, probably explaining he’s a coach just taking his lunch break and waiting for the next shift. Afternoon hours means he’ll be busy with teenager groups again. That’s what you’ve noticed over the weeks by now.

But you don’t care.

She nudges his upper arm lightly, eyes getting closer when she starts acting all so surprised about his muscular body. It’s not as if her eyes have been glued to his chest instead of his eyes for the last minutes. Definitely not.

But you don’t care.

Her fingers stay on his arm, he giggles at every joke she has to offer. Chan’s gaze flickers to you, blatantly aware of your little inspection and if you wouldn’t be that occupied with staring at where both their bodies connect, you would have noticed.

But you wouldn’t care anyway, right?

The daydreaming gets interrupted once your mum starts calling you, asking you to get more lemons from the storage room and so you do as you’re told.

Now out of sight, the woman is still speaking to Chan but his demeanor has switched since he’s realised you’re gone.

“Listen,” he starts, leaning a bit closer to the blonde, “I really enjoy talking to you but I should have told you earlier. I’m not interested in that way, my heart already belongs to someone else.”

He cringes at his own words but doesn’t mind, the elder woman will probably find him even more adorable now. The sweet talk threatens to get to her head but she stays respectful, waving him goodbye before she continues strolling around at the beach.

Rummaging around in the dusty boxes your parents keep in the basement, you search for the fruits. The simple task doesn’t really keep you distracted.

The more you search for the lemons, the more you forget what you’re looking for.

The more you try to focus on something else, the more your brain comes back to these thoughts.

The more seconds pass by, the more you realise you can’t get him out of your mind.

God, damn it, Y/N, you curse to yourself.

He’s been nothing but an asshole over these past few weeks. There’s no reason he’s possessing your whole existence with the looks he gives you whenever you talk back at him. There’s no reason he’s making your heart flutter. There's no reason you waste time on thinking about him. 

Maybe you do care after all.

♡

The bass is already roaring in your ears, the music itself is not that good but you’re sure a couple of shots will do to get you in a fitting mood. Still on your way to find your friends, you head to the bar, ready for the first drink of the night. While waiting in line after ordering – the bartender is quite cute so you make a mental note to yourself to go back to him, his name tag reading ‘Jeongin’ – you grab your phone from your tiny purse. 

No calls from either of your friends make you a bit suspicious, but you decide to just reach out to them yourself. Patiently waiting for the ringing sound once you’ve dialled Felix’s number, there’s a lack of the noise you’re expecting, indicating there’s no connection.

Once Jeongin has served your beverage of choice, you thank him with a wink and leave the area of the bar, aimlessly strolling around to find your friends. Cursing yourself for wearing shoes at a beach party, even though they’re just simple plateau sandals, you’re getting tired of making your way through the crowd of people.

Suddenly, you spot a head with bleached hair, sensing it must be Felix. But when you start heading towards your goal, another person cuts off your path and everything happens in the blink of an eye. Only a few seconds pass before the liquid from your cocktail spills all over the stranger’s white button shirt, leaving the fabric all wet.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you instantly blurt out, knowing for a fact it was your fault since you haven’t paid enough attention to your surroundings. Ready for a session of getting scolded by this rather handsome tall man, you’re preparing yourself to get the waterworks going, hoping a little crying session will make the outcome of the situation less harsh.

But there’s no need to do so, the stranger immediately realises you didn’t do it on purpose, so now, ironically, he’s the one to calm you down.

“Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s alright. It happens. You can just make it up to me by buying two new drinks for the both of us, alright?”

His sudden proposition catches you off guard, there’s just too much information within his few phrases. But his beauty and seductive words are instantly getting to your head, so you sheeply nod and guide him back towards the bar.

When reaching the area you’ve just come from again, he orders two beers for the both of you – explaining it’s a bit more complicated to spill the beverages since the liquid is filled into bottles – before paying.

“No– let me get that, I’m the one who’s made you wet,” you interrupt him in his actions of taking out his wallet, not even realising what words you’ve chosen.

“And I’m the one who’s planning to make you wet as well, so allow me to invite you first, princess,” he chuckles, adding a wink to his sentence.

Blood instantly rushes up high to your head, eyes opening wide at his suggestion. He’s direct. Very direct.

You’re not sure yet if you like it. But you decide to play along when you spot the familiar blonde curls again, waiting at the bar that you’ve been at merely seconds ago.

The tall, handsome man turns out to be Hyunjin, a painter who’s come to your hometown’s beach for inspiration. Given his first impression, you’ve expected him to guide you to the next available bathroom so you’re more than impressed when he tells you all about his adventures instead, slowly getting to know you first.

He’s even showing you some of his pieces of art. There’s something about them that makes you want to dive in those landscapes he’s illustrated. The way the colours play together reminds you of the moonlight enlightening the bar and it’s good to focus on something else for a moment.

After another drink – you’re still not allowed to pay – Hyunjin invites you to dance, all romantically and you’re not sure yet if he’s just trying to flirt or if that’s how he always acts. But you don’t want to pay more attention to these questions, so you just decide to go with the flow, just like the waves not far away from the venue.

It turns out Hyunjin isn’t only creative when it comes to painting and drawing, he’s also talented in dancing. While you’re swaying to the rhythm of the music, he’s standing right behind you, his hips’ movements synchronising with yours.

What do they say about dancers and their hips again?

You feel yourself getting lost in all the actions, particularly when he lays his hands on your waist and guides you through the rhythm. A breeze lingers on your ear and for a moment you believe he might kiss you.

Until you spot a pair of eyes at the other side of the dance floor, watching every move you make. The person who they belong to isn’t busy with getting a drink at the bar anymore. All alone, he’s just standing there, observing you from afar.

Noticing Chan’s jaw is clenched, you try to focus on the handsome man with the long hair behind you again.

It only takes the tall one touching your hips for another time, that Chan makes his way through the crowd at a lighting’s speed. Once he’s standing in front of you, he doesn’t give Hyunjin even half a second to rethink what’s going on, before he shushes him away.

Harshly grabbing you by your wrist, he leads you away from the party, as you stumble behind him. Reaching his preferred destination of a quiet part at the beach, he finally lets go of your now reddened skin.

“What the fuck was that?!”

You finally manage to let out your words so loud that would have been noticeable to all the guests if the music wasn’t blasting that much.

“I should be asking you the same question.”

He leaves you speechless once again – that man has the audacity to search for the mistake in your behavior?

“Chan stop getting on my nerves with all your bullshit, stop the bickering already.”

Your words leave a harsh sting and he senses it. The blonde wishes to be able to be truthful with you but instead his intrusive thoughts take over him.

“Fucking brat, stop yourself– you’re the annoying one here.”

You respond nothing to his sentences, only scoffing at the phrases. Chan starts heading back to the party, leaving you there alone. 

Why is he bringing you here just to leave you standing a minute later?

What is wrong with him?

There’s a simple answer to this rhetorical question – you make him lose his mind, make him go insane, make him forget any logic.

Deciding to stay where you are for a while, not wanting to awkwardly get back to the party, you get rid of your dress and tiptoe into the ocean. You’re glad now you’ve chosen to wear a bikini underneath the thin fabric that’s now met the sand.

Suddenly, Chan halts in place and turns back around once more, a new idea coming to his mind. 

“Do you ever wonder why I get this way? Maybe it’s– ugh, never mind.”

His words stop again as soon as they’ve started. 

The poor boy hasn’t added you standing in the water half naked into his calculations, making him lose his voice.

Then a realisation hits your mind, making you envision him in a new much different light, especially when you notice his eyes trailing down your body. 

“No way– you’re actually jealous.”

“Tell that to yourself! I saw you observing me some days ago at the beach talking to that blonde.”

His accusations do nothing to you considering he’s doing such a bad job at hiding his attraction to you. Especially since he recognises the familiar clothing.

“No, I just didn’t expect you to be into milfs.”

Still, your own words aren’t that truthful either, Chan is not the only one that has been playing hide and seek, threatened now to be found and caught.

“Cut the crap, Y/N, I know exactly what’s going on in your head.”

“Yeah? What is it then?”

“Me. The thought of my body all over yours is what’s been keeping you distracted these days, isn’t it?”

Your jaw clenches in an attempt to gain some time to think about an answer, but Chan immediately takes notes of your fragility.

“Ah, yeah. Cat got your tongue? Thought so.”

His scoff echoes through the air, his muscular arms are still crossed in front of his chest.

“T-Those are all lies. I’m not thinking about you ever,” you bluff. 

“What about your eyes glued on my face while you were grinding your ass against this dude’s crotch? Admit it, you’re craving my attention.”

At this point you’re unable to ignore the sight of his dark eyes burning with passion, lust filled as they stare right at you, still you’re holding onto the last piece of resistance when you deny his statement.

“I’m not craving your attention.”

As if he’s surfin’ your deepest thoughts, the ideas of what he wants to do to you hit you like the waves crashing on the cliffs far away from the beach you’re currently at.

It’s like a match of chess the both of you are playing, you’re the last remaining game piece on the board, doomed to be defeated. His dark eyes drill through your skull and they would have pinned you to the next wall if you both weren’t standing in the open sea.

“Sure, then what was that strolling around in that bikini,” he points at the fabric, “during my lunch break? Were you trying to rile me up, huh? Waiting for me to snap and take you there in front of all the people?”

His words instantly shoot straight down to your core and you can already feel your bikini getting sticky, arousals leaking and dripping into the fabric.

“What’s with that look on your face now, doll?”

His provocation and the casually added name at the end of his question sends that tingling passion right to where you need him the most again.

Catching your eyes flickering down to his lips is enough to make him smirk.

Check.

He’s got you right where he wants you.

Sick and tired of acting all tough, you finally know what you crave – that fervent touch, his hands roaming all over your body in the dim moonlight.

So you let him.

You finally let him place his lips on yours, there’s no hiding anymore. 

And it’s so much softer than the whole fight that has been going on. One could say, the kiss equals the atmosphere around you.

It’s a scene common for oil paintings, the different pigments and shades dancing together. The sky meets the sea and the sea meets your bodies, tightly entwined.

His plump lips dance with yours, your hips being gripped by his big hands, pulling you closer. For a second, you get aware of the waves splashing against your knees but Chan pulls you out of your thoughts when his tongue grazes over your upper lips, asking for entrance.

The movements grow in passion, your fingers find their way to the back of his head, blonde curls being played with. Every cell of your body screams desire, your surroundings blurring out because of the way his tongue twirls with yours.

In the blink of an eye, he guides you further away from the shore until the water level reaches your upper tights, but still not enough to hide your outfit.

His fingers start wandering down your hips until they meet your ass. While giving the soft flesh a squeeze, Chan chuckles against your lips before he relocates the passionate attacks to your neck.

You let out a small moan once he decides a flowery purple pattern right there would suit you best, the kisses and bites making you lose the last piece of resistance that’s captured in your mind.

So you let it free.

Just like all the tension that’s been going on.

“Should have done this way sooner, don’t you think, babygirl?”

Chan’s words startle you because for a second you believe he’s just read your thoughts. But at this point it wouldn’t surprise you. He’s buried himself so deep into your mind, you’d allow him anything at this point.

Unexpectedly, he guides the both of you back to the beach again, as Chan has decided he’d prefer to have you between him and the sandy ground, a desire that has been haunting his mind since the first time you spoke back at him when you met at the bar.

Even though you allow him to place you there, your back meeting the gritty material, you’re still convinced he’s not on the finishing straight yet.

Your thesis begs to differ when his fingers wander down your chest, unlacing your bikini top – you curse yourself for wearing this specific piece again that always makes it so easy – your tits now on full display for him.

His hands grab one of your breasts roughly, squeezing and massaging it while his lips are busy working on the purple artwork located on your neck.

That’s when you let out a tiny whimper, almost unnoticeable as the waves continue hitting the shore. Still, Chan is able to notice.

“What was that?” Chan smirks. “N-Nothing,” is all you can breathe out in this situation.

His mouth starts wandering south now, switching places with his fingers around your breast. Soft licks cause your back to arch in pleasure but Chan is quick to hold you in place when his hand finds your throat, carefully applying pressure to the side.

“Look at yourself. Keep denying all my assumptions. We both know you’re lying.”

When his hand leaves your neck again, painfully slowly traveling down your curves until it lands between your upper thighs, nothing but pure desire flows through your veins.

It’s clear to say you can’t hold back anymore, every cell of your body is possessed by none other than the man towering over you by now. Especially, when he pushes the rest of your clothes aside – the already soaked bikini panties that haven’t covered that much anyway.

Still, you’re trying to gather those little pieces of strength that slumber inside you, hoping to turn the hierarchy around.

“I hope you d-don’t think you’re w-winning this fight just b-because of what’s h-happening right n-now.”

It’s pathetic almost, how the words escape your lips, stuttered out with the help of the remaining sanity you still own.

“There’s never been an actual fight. At least not from my perspective,” he chuckles under his breath, his fingers softly grazing over your wet folds.

“Just face it, doll. Give in. It’s useless. You’re practically dripping for me.”

So you do as you’re told.

Forgetting about your pride, you allow him everything you’ve both craved for so long and you soon realize you should have let him much earlier.

In the blink of an eye, two of his fingers slide inside you effortlessly – thanks to all the riled up tension – which makes you spread your legs for him so obediently. The pace starts slow – way too slow for your liking but you decide against complaining.

“Exactly, just like that,” he praises you. His lips are attached to your jar and neck again, working a bit on his masterpiece until they make their way down – passing your collarbones, your breasts, your belly button just before they land on your lower tummy.

Suddenly, he pulls his digits out of you, just so his mouth can continue the process of making you lose your mind completely. Instantly finding your bundle of nerves, his tongue draws circles around your clit. You allow yourself to soak in every moment and, rather suddenly, your breath hitches when his fingers enter your heat again, this time at an increased speed.

For a second, his mouth disconnects from where you need him the most and dark eyes filled with the utmost amount of lust are staring right into your soul. A suppressed moan manages to leave your lips and Chan instantly catches on it, a smirk again on his face, still visible in the moonlight. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks, a chuckle added to his question.

“Chan, come on, keep going,” you whine.

“Nah, babygirl, need you to beg for it. Only good girls deserve to cum and I’m not convinced yet.”

“In your dreams,” you scoff under your breath, positioning your upper body on the back of your forearms.

“Well if that’s the case– I’m just gonna get back to the party.”

He points at the neon lights far in the distance, sitting on his lower legs now. 

“Chan– wait,” you cry out pathetically when he gives the impression he’s gonna leave at any second. In desperation, you grab the hem of his shirt, threatening to slide your fingers under the fabric.

“Just one little word and I’m all yours, babygirl.”

His seduction continues with soft kisses and the anticipation is killing you by now, that’s for sure.

Fuck it.

There’s no reason to fight it anymore.

“Chan– I’m begging you,” you cry out in eagerness.

“Begging for what exactly, doll?”

At this point his mischievous smile isn’t even bothering you anymore, you just want him to do whatever. To keep going. To make you feel good.

“I need you–“

But now he’s the one continuing to provoke some more.

“You sure you want me? Not the guy you had been dancing with earlier?”

He’s the only one you should be making these sounds for after all.

The new possessive behaviour of him makes your head buzz, your brain by now so dizzy it feels as if the world is spinning around.

“For fuck’s sake– want your hands all over my body, want your lips on mine, want you to make me scream your name– yes, I want you.”

He leans a bit closer to your ear, still trying to distract himself from his pants getting tighter and more uncomfortable because of what’s about to happen next.

“You could have just said please, babygirl.”

Unbelievable.

“Chan– please, just fuck me.”

Checkmate.

And so he does. In less than ten seconds, he’s got rid of his shirt but there's no time to solely admire his firm chest. He pulls his pants down far enough so he’s able to free his cock – already hardened and the head glistening with his precum.

In an instant, his tip is playing with your entrance, mixing your juices over it and teasing your clit once more, before he pushes his length inside you. Immediately, your walls clench around him and whilst Chan is busy finding a comfortable position to stabilize himself on top of you, you’re getting used to the feeling.

“Everything okay?” He asks now and it’s for the first time he’s so careful with you.

“Yes– please, just keep going,” you encourage him and so he does.

He starts with thrusting into you slowly, always making sure your gaze is fixated on his eyes and whenever you close your own, he makes sure to correct your posture by guiding his index finger under your chin.

Chan has you squirming under his touch and he’s aware. The way you’re staring at him, mouth slightly agape so your moans are able to escape, makes him lose his mind right here and now.

“Fuck– Chan,” is all you’re able to cry out and you’re convinced you’re about to faint, when he positions one of your legs over his broad shoulder. With this new ankle, he hits that spot just so deliciously. 

While he’s burying his face in your neck – a rather unsuccessful attempt to keep going a bit longer – you suck on the skin right under his jaw, deciding to leave your own personal autograph there as well.

Two can play this game of possessiveness.

Suddenly, he disconnects his mouth from your neck again, just so he can place a passionate kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan, especially when he decides to increase his pace, until he masters his thrusts.

“J-Just like that– finally, such a good girl. You’ve been mine all along, you get that?”

His words let your walls clench around his cock and your eyelids flutter shut, but Chan is fast to remind you to open them again.

“I repeat– whose good girl are you?”

At this point you only manage to nod, unable to form any coherent sentence. To your disgrace, this makes Chan slow down a bit and you soon sense what he wants to hear, no, needs to hear.

“Yours, only yours.”

Moans echo around, louder than the ocean by now and you both crave more and more. Neither of you want to stop, as you wish to let this moment continue until forever. But you’re getting closer to your relief and Chan reckons it, especially after your next sentence which sounds rather like mindless babbling.

“Chan– close– cum.”

The blonde wants to chuckle, but little does he realise he’s just as fucked out as you are – what about defeat again?

“Fuck– you’ve been so good, just let go, babygirl, I’ve got you,” he gives in now, right before you follow suit.

Sending waves of pleasure through your whole body, your mind goes blank and white sparkles fill your vision once you reach your climax. His orgasm gets triggered with that, his moves become sloppier until he tips over the edge himself. Hot spurts of cum paint your inner walls white, creating a masterpiece as evenly pretty as the one attached to your neck.

Once you’ve managed to breathe at a normal pace again, heartbeats still echoing in your ears, Chan pulls out of you and the mixture of your liquids seeps out of your cunt.

Some moments later, he lays beside you and you place your head onto his chest, after he’s suggested you do so. This whole new atmosphere is still something you need to get used to. Still, you’re relieved how things have worked out. It was exhausting, after all.

“We definitely should have done this earlier,” you begin to speak, so quietly it’s barely noticeable.

“Hm, maybe if you haven’t taken my offer of some surfing lessons that seriously.”

You scoff, snapping your head up, so you’re able to face him.

“No– I was ready to give you another chance after that move. I was mad because you were getting on my nerves with teaching right in front of the restaurant.”

Chan smirks again, softly caressing the hair at the back of your head.

“Then tell me, pretty, how else would I have been able to get your attention?”

“Yeah, okay. Maybe I’m glad you did. But it’s still your fault this whole fight or whatever started.”

You shoot a strict glare in his direction but Chan just laughs at your attempt to gain some dominance.

“That still begs to differ. Why don’t we just talk this out?” 

🖇 TAGLIST: @heelover5 @chimmycupcake @avyskai @chrissybang @svintsandghosts @ughbehavior

© j-0ne25 2022 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

[ceebee97]

PUDDING

LEGEND 📓Release status/Rating · 🖤Pairing · 🪐Universe · 🏷️Genre/Trope · 🚨 Warnings

📜7.4K words 📓One-shot, Explicit 🖤Lee Know x (afab) Reader 🪐College AU, Simp Dom!Minho 🏷️Witty, Raunchy 🚨Lowkey obsessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming if you squint (feat. the use of "good girl"), agrexophilia, public vaginal fingering, implied corruption kink, light bondage (restraining), praising, thigh riding, use of sex toys, biting/love marks, oral sex, edging, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, fully charged vibrators recommended per usual. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 📬Sequel to Bubblegum. Written for @skzseasons Summer 2022 event ☀️🍦

SYNOPSIS The declaration that Minho was a virgin until your night together drills a hole in your head. It can't possibly be true because who the hell fucks like that with no prior experience?

SLAM!

"You're dropping whatever the fuck you have planned for Saturday for obvious reasons," Chris declared to the table of four consisting of you, Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin, right in the middle of trying to focus on writing a group paper for your joint elective class. The sudden sound scared the crap out of everybody.

"Thanks for the unsolicited defibrillator shock," Hyunjin retorted, his hand still on his chest, "If it’s that obvious, why do we need further clarification?"

"It’s his birthday," you responded, slurping on your cold brew, "And no matter how much he says he doesn’t want gifts, don’t listen to him. He actually comes up with excuses to bounce people out if they don’t have one. Just a heads up."

Jisung turned to the rest of you, "Makes sense to split an Uber to his place on Saturday, no? We could-"

"Actually, not mine," Chris interrupted him, "We're doing it at Minho's place."

You eyed Chris' face with cocked brows because this was the first time he didn't want to host a party at his fortress of debauchery.

"If I may politely ask, why the fuck?"

"His place is bigger than mine," Chris shrugged, "Not to mention my complete lack of will to deal with the post-bash cleaning festivities. Saturday. Be there."

Chris took off as quickly as he barged in, leaving the four of you looking at each other.

"We’ll just sponsor the drinks and that’ll be our gift."

"Sold," Jisung highfived Hyunjin and they diverted their attention back to their screens whereas Minho turned to you.

"What are you getting him?"

"I get pragmatic stuff for people, so his usual cologne," you replied nonchalantly, "I know he’s running out."

"He’s into that expensive shit, isn’t he?" Minho kept playing with his pen as he leaned back in his chair, "You wanna go in on it together? I can’t think of anything to get him."

"Sure, why not?" you shrugged.

"You wanna go get it right now?"

"Uh hello, the paper?" Jisung waved his hand in front of Minho’s face.

"I’m way too distracted for this. Wait for me by the door," he got up from his seat without waiting for an answer from you while you just watched him leave, unable to process what just happened.

Lee fucking Minho. As arrogant as ever.

"I’ll see you guys soon, I guess. Or not," you stood up to make your way to the library door with Hyunjin and Jisung’s whining seeing you off.

The morning after your night together, neither Chris nor Minho was anywhere to be found, getting you to question whether that actually happened or not. If you hadn’t woken up completely naked between your sheets with your heels still on, you would be convinced that you dreamed it. You expected tasteless jokes from the guys about Minho losing his virginity to you, but nobody talked about it afterwards. Minho’s relentless advances on you stayed the same, albeit a little less aggressive by then. Taking a class together tripled the amount of obligatory interaction you shared with him, and although he continued to irritate the shit out of you on the regular, you were noticing that being the object of his attention actually started tickling you inside since he was the number one guy everybody was lusting after in the whole damn department, if not the entire school. Needless to say, that did something to your ego.

Massively.

You were pulled back to reality with the sound of an engine revving and your jaw dropped upon the sight.

"Minh- You… Since WHEN?"

"Since always," Minho stopped his Kawasaki in front of you, "You should pay closer attention to people you like. I'm actually offended."

"Who the FUCK says I lik-"

"Will you just get on the back?" 

He handed you the spare helmet he pulled out from the back and gave you a fair warning after you settled down.

"Hold on tight. I don’t like going slow."

Just like that he took off and, man, was that warning necessary. You found yourself on the brink of screaming every time he scissored his way between cars, expertly navigating the vehicle like the road was empty, and if he kept going this fast, you were sure you were gonna pass out. You held onto his body for dear life and closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself this was just an amusement park ride. When you pressed your body against him, it felt like…

It felt like somebody broke a humongous jar of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

It took a minute for your legs to start functioning again after Minho killed the engine at the parking lot of a department store, either as a consequence of his adrenaline junkiness, or…

"So, what is it we’re looking for?" he asked you in front of a shelf containing men’s fragrances.

That should have been an easy question since you were the reason you ended up in that cosmetics shop, but you couldn’t remember the name of the brand for the life of you.

"Uh… It’s blue. Smells fresh?"

Minho started scanning the shelves to spot a shade ranging from teal to indigo and grabbed one of the tester bottles, spraying the fragrance on his wrist.

"Is it this one?"

"Wow, this is actually pretty sexy. It’s sandalwood, isn’t it?" you inhaled the scent from his wrist, "But no, that’s not it."

Minho’s lips parted the tiniest measure at your reaction and he cocked one of his brows, seemingly calculating something in his mind. You continued the trial and error of scent hunting for quite some time, almost sacrificing your noses in the pursuit of preventing Chris’ prospective complaining of how you didn’t get him a gift.

"FINALLY! It’s this one."

After completing your purchase, you browsed around as many places as you could as a procrastinating attempt, which even included window shopping at an archery goods store, but you were reminded that you couldn’t run away from your responsibilities any longer with a text from Jisung.

Ji We need your sections TONIGHT. Don’t fucking make me raid your house again.

"I think we need to head back," you informed Minho, to which he responded with a groan.

"Do we have to?"

"Oh, Jisung never jokes about raiding. This one time I forgot to send him a demo and he deadass called the cops on me because he, and I quote, suspected breaking and entering. Let’s go."

Minho was unyielding in his attempts to bail on getting some work done while you made your way back to the parking lot.

"But I get distracted outside."

"And I get distracted inside, so going home is not an option," you countered, "The study rooms in the library are open 24/7. We’ll just book one of those."

"I haven't even eaten yet."

"Oh my fucking GOD, would you stop whining for two seconds?" you snapped at Minho, your irritation levels at an alarming level by then, "You can eat there. Stop trying to get out of this."

All in all, it was a compromise. Minho agreed to drag his ass to the library if dinner was going to be on you. His order was very specific: chicken teriyaki sandwich on sourdough bread with a pudding cup, and apparently, it just had to be from this particular convenience store. He could have asked for a steak with demi-glace sauce for all you cared. Anything to shut him up and get to work.

The murmur of the library common areas had significantly died down when you got back. The crowd had already moved to the quiet sections to focus better, or called it a day and left the place. You were offering your thanks to every deity you could think of that it wasn’t the midterm season since there would otherwise be no way you could find an empty room. You made yourselves comfortable in the secluded area, spreading your stuff all over the table like you freaking owned the place, and Minho started… eating.

"Are you for real right now?"

"What? My blood sugar is low," he retorted, "I’ll start once I’m done, I promise."

You took a deep breath, trying your utmost best not to tackle his spoiled only child ass to the ground, and opened your laptop to start working. It was going fine at first. 

Until Minho began working in earnest and you started catching glimpses of him every time he moved in your peripheral vision.

Whenever he was focused on something, Minho would always cock his perfectly shaped eyebrows in an almost daring way. His eyes were loaded with kilowatts of electricity and it felt like they would indeed shock you to death if you stared at them directly. The number one reason for your annoyance with him was his cockiness, but come to think of it, maybe you would be as vain as him if you looked like that, too. Everything about him was so unreal. His silk honey hair, the little freckle on his nose, his jawline, the veins on his neck, his fingers, his cheekbones. Oh, those cheekbones…

Whose fucking unhinged imagination are you? 

A guy this stunning must have had an army of people chasing after him, but he claimed he was a virgin until recently. He could have picked literally anyone he wanted, but he obsessed over trapping you instead? But more importantly, if he was indeed a virgin, how was he that good? 

What if this whole thing was actually some sort of a…

It just didn’t make any sense! You had to verify these suspicions.

"I wanna ask you something, but I don’t want this to get to your already large head," you blurted out of nowhere.

Minho continued typing without looking at you, "That means you’re about to say something that’s gonna stroke my ego and I’m all for it," then he leaned back and turned his attention to you, "Shoot."

You wriggled in your seat, not knowing how to tastefully bring up the subject, "That night… When you came over to my place…"

"Oh yeah," Minho broke into a smug grin and looked away as he rolled the film of your night together in his inner mind theater. You threw your pen at him.

"That’s why I didn’t wanna say jack shit to you, asshat. You piss me the fuck off!"

"I didn’t even say anything! Calm the fuck down, will you?" Minho creased his brows, but obviously still enjoying the direction of the conversation, "What were you gonna ask?"

You heaved an annoyed sigh and gathered your thoughts again.

"Your performance that night was um- was-"

"Mindblowing?"

"Minho…"

"But it was, right?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and shot him a questioning look, "Actually, I was gonna say a little too good for an alleged virgin. Care to elaborate on that?"

You carefully examined Minho’s face for a sign of dishonesty. For a flinch. For a grimace. For that devil grin of his to appear to tell on his bullshit, but he just remained as composed as he could ever be.

"You ever fucked a virgin before?"

"No? But-"

"Then stop assuming shit. How would you even know what it's supposed to feel like if you've never done it before?" he reached out for the pudding cup on the table, "Maybe I'm just a natural at this."

The way Minho tore the protective plastic over the dessert with his teeth was unnecessarily lewd, like he was fucking stripping it. He dipped his spoon into the cup and started eating with such an appetite that it almost looked like he was eating… something else. He made sure he consumed every single drop in that cup, constantly licking his lips in between his bites.

His freaking… Pretty… Lips. 

"Could you fucking not?" you coughed, "You're distracting me."

"What?" Minho asked, his mouth full of the cold dessert. You pointed at the cup with your pen.

"Your… eating."

Minho flashed a knowing smile and sent his bite down his throat.

"Why? Do you want me to munch on something else instead?"

You dropped your pen on the table in exasperation.

"Why the heck do you keep teasing me like that?"

"Because I fucking love seeing how much you crave me," Minho slid a little down on his chair and manspread, flashing those damn thighs of his.

"You must also love being delusional," you scoffed, "Maybe try your hand at writing fanfiction."

"You're gonna deny it?"

You didn’t respond to his apparent flustering attempt although you would be lying if you said it didn’t slightly get under your skin. Minho tilted his head to check you out from head to toe.

"Are you really gonna claim you’re not doing this on purpose?"

"Do what?"

"Wearing bottoms I can easily break through."

This guy was fucking impossible to deal with. He finally managed to get on your last goddamn nerve.

"Like you could."

"But I would."

"I’d like to see you try, you cocky-ass prick," you crossed your legs under the table.

"Oh, now you’ve done it."

Minho pulled the rolling chair you were sitting on at one go and brought his face way too close to yours.

"Let’s make a bet shall we?" he spoke almost in a whisper, "If I touch you right now and you’re not wet, I’ll stop coming onto you for good."

You really shouldn’t have gulped that obviously when you knew it was going to cause his ego to get a hard-on.

"But if you are, you'll shut the fuck up and let me make you cum right here right now."

Minho’s hand slithered on your right thigh and he started making his way up your skirt. The higher up he climbed, the more he furrowed his brows.

"Why is your skin this smooth?"

He kept watching your expression for an ounce of disapproval, but much to your own surprise, you weren’t stopping him. He eventually made his way to the peak and pressed his thumb on your underwear to discover that you soaked through that piece of fabric, whispering in your ear in complete satisfaction.

"Checkmate, baby."

You jolted at the unexpected pet name, but when Minho placed a soft peck on your earlobe you full on shuddered.

"Wanna tell me what got you drenched like that?"

Minho gently slid his finger behind your underwear to experience your raw wetness firsthand and the touch made him groan. He chuckled in your ear.

"It’s the pudding, isn’t it?"

Yes, it fucking was. It was how he ate like he had a really bad craving and he was trying to satisfy an uncontrollable urge. What were you supposed to do but replace yourself with it in your mind, relive the moment he made you spray on his pretty face all over again, his tongue teasing every single one of your pleasure nerves with absolute determination to make you lose yourself. Minho’s lips found their way to your neck and when he nipped at the sensitive skin as he pushed his fingers inside, you couldn’t help clenching around him.

"Oh, she likes that. She wants to trap me inside, huh? Is that what she wants?"

There was no rush in his movements. Just placing open mouth kisses on your neck, your collarbones, and your cleavage as he fingered you, a little too tenderly compared to his usual M.O. of competitiveness even with himself. 

"Fuck, deeper. Hook them upwards."

Minho was enjoying this maybe a little more than you did, contently moaning against your skin. His soundwaves worked like tiny waves sharing the exact same DNA as low magnitude earthquakes washing over your skin. Ironically enough, it was about to prompt a fucking tsunami when he followed your instructions to a T like a teacher’s pet.

"There. Right there."

"Feels good, yeah?" Minho pressed his forehead against yours with a smile, "Tell me how good it feels. Tell me."

"So good. So fucking good. Rub harder."

He picked up his pace and the intensity of his touch, and quietly demanded from you:

"Let it out."

"Minho."

"Let it out for me."

"Minho!"

"Baby."

"FUCK!"

Minho trapped your lips within his as you grabbed his shoulders to brace for impact. He tasted like pudding. You kept fucking yourself on his long, slender fingers through your high, quietly moaning into each other's mouths until your tremors receded. Minho stole one last kiss from you and cleaned his fingers thoroughly coated with you and you only.

"If we’re gonna do this every time we come in here, I don’t mind taking on additional assignments for extra credit, just saying."

Why the fuck?

You were trying to piece together a convincing argument to refute yourself while you were scanning your closet to pick a fit for Chris’ birthday party.

After that study session at the library, Minho kept randomly popping up in your mind as you were going about your day and being a person, which made absolutely no sense. It wasn’t like his fingering game was so top-tier that you had a hankering for it. It wasn’t that. Every time he visited your thoughts, you would focus on very arbitrary things. How his hair felt to the touch, the temperature of his skin, how his lips tasted right after he ate pudding, how he sounded when he called you…

Why the fuck, though?

Your eyes darted to the shoebox on one of your shelves. You knew for a fact that Minho had a thing for these heels, and the idea of wearing them just to mess with his head was infinitely entertaining to you at that moment because apparently…

Why the fuck not?

You, Hyunjin, and Jisung split an Uber like you agreed on earlier that week and Minho was the one welcoming you into that ridiculously expensive-looking apartment. The loud chatter of the crowd invading his place flooded outside the second he opened the door. Like he wasn’t already ravishing enough, he went ahead and clad himself in jet black, accenting every single one of his goddamn beautiful features. You were sure you went temporarily blind at that contrast between his caramel hair parted in the middle to expose his forehead and his entire attire. But more importantly, he smelled like something very familiar to you.

"We’re matching," Minho pointed at the black dress on you as you made your way in. He was briefly taken aback when you suddenly leaned into him to get a whiff from his neck.

"I remember this smell."

"Sexy, isn't it? It's sandalwood," he smirked at you and looked down at your ankles, "And I remember these shoes."

"Sexy, isn’t it?" you reciprocated the crooked smile and made your way inside.

You had a hidden agenda for the night. Too much for trying to get words out of Minho’s perfectly shaped mouth since the guy just would not give you a satisfactory answer about his dubious performance. Why you were that obsessed with getting to the bottom of this, you didn’t have a clue - that you would say out loud.

But the matter of the fact was if it was indeed true that Minho had lost his virginity to you, that very idea of being his first made you wanna implode for some reason. Him. This magnificent creature. Insisted on giving in to you. Not to mention asked to be dommed by you. Wanted to be put in his place. As his first experience. The more you thought about it, the more were riling yourself up over this.

Why the fuck, though?

If there was one person that would give you the truth, it was Chris a.k.a your partner in crime in this mess. Obviously, he wasn’t going to blab unprovoked, so you needed his kryptonite to catalyze things. The veritaserum of it all.

Bourbon.

"Birthday boooy! Stop being sober already, drink. Drink! Drink! Drink!"

You must have fed him about five shots, galvanizing the entire crowd to cheer along until Chris passed the threshold of tipsy, but still not drunk enough to prioritize laying down over answering your questions.

"Say, Channie boy, I gotta ask you something."

"Shoot," Chris comfortably sprawled on the couch.

"You remember our notorious night, right?"

A dumb smile seeped through his lips at your words.

"How can I forget?"

You scanned his face, trying to assess how much trolling he could possibly attempt, and let it rip after taking a deep breath.

"I think you lied to me."

"About what?" Chris furrowed his brows.

"About Minho being a virgin."

"No, he really was."

You felt your annoyance at everyone refusing to give you a logical explanation overflow inside you, and you finally fucking snapped.

"HOW CAN SOMEONE FUCK LIKE THAT WITH NO PRIOR EXPERIENCE?"

The entire living room turned to your direction at the yelling, pushing you to the zone of mortification at record speed.

"Carry on, people. Family business," Chris diverted the bystanders’ attention and faced you again, "I mean, he was a virgin on a technicality. He did watch a lot of stuff."

Finally. A lead to something that could make sense.

"You mean porn?"

"No. He didn’t do the practicum, but he studied for this."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means he sorta learned it on the job."

Chris had a dead serious expression on his face, probably thinking he was able to explain himself when in fact, you hadn’t heard anything this cryptic in your goddamn life.

"What the damn hell, Chris, are you high or something?!"

"No, for real," he slightly slurred, "He refused to directly be a part of anything ever since he laid his eyes on you and started simping at full capacity, but anytime any of us was out to score, he asked us to invite him to observe in action. He calls porn false advertising."

Chris must have been indeed trolling you because who the fuck would be unhinged enough to come up with a plan like that?!

"And all of you fucking agreed to this? Not to mention the people you slept with?"

"It took a massive amount of getting high on our end, but yeah. Besides, he agreed to buy us season tickets for our respective teams, so…"

"Yeah sure, he wants to go in on a fucking bottle of perfume, but he can hand out season tickets like candy on Halloween."

Chris looked at you with an expression that had subtitles, and it read ‘Check your vocabulary, woman’.

"You realize ‘going in on’ is not the same thing as not being able to afford, right? The man’s loaded for fuck’s sake."

"Excuse you?"

"Look around, hello?" Chris pointed to the general direction of Minho’s apartment, "Who the fuck even owns a Kawasaki Ninja at his age? That should have been your first clue."

You were in complete disbelief at the words coming out of Chris’ mouth. To recap, not only Minho was a virgin until recently, but apparently, he also made it his goal to lose it to you like you were a fucking Harvard program he was trying to get in, and in the meantime engaged in the most deranged form of tutoring you could possibly think of. You got up without saying anything and made your way to the kitchen to drink some goddamn water because your throat was dry all of a sudden.

"Heard it on the grapevine that you’re asking about me."

You turned around to see a very tipsy Minho walking towards you, "You could have asked me, too, you know. Why would I lie to you?"

"Because you have massive ego problems?" you opened Minho’s fridge and contorted your face in surprise when you saw the stack on one of the shelves, "Not to mention a very unhealthy attachment to pudding apparently."

"Please," Minho scoffed, "like you don’t fucking drool every time you watch me eat those. You’re so obvious."

"Says who?"

"Says everyone who has eyes. Maybe it’s you who has an unhealthy attachment."

You grabbed one of the pudding cups from the fridge instead of water, and leaned against the counter, pointing the spoon at him.

"Fine, explain something to me: A virgin who doesn’t blow the second he gets his dick wet, not to mention in someone he’s allegedly simping over. Cite your references."

Minho shrugged, "Easy. Prolonged self-edging practice."

"Meaning?"

"It’s exactly what it sounds like," he grabbed a spoon from one of the drawers and dipped it in your cup, "Many bottles of lube were harmed in the process of making this."

The more you heard about what was going on behind the scenes, the more appalled you were becoming.

"Are you for real?"

"You didn’t think I wasn’t gonna train for this, did you?" he led the spoon into his mouth, "You’re the goddamn Olympics for fuck’s sake, and as you keep pointing out, my ego is way too big to hear anything less than a five-star review."

"You’re fucking crazy, Minho."

"Over you, yes."

Your eyes darted from his almond eyes down to his lips and then to his neck which was adorned with a black chain necklace that really suited him. The notes of sandalwood coming from all his pulse points were making you drunker. You felt something drip inside your underwear.

"So, you’re saying," you dipped the spoon in the exact place Minho did, scooping as much dessert as you could fit on the curvy surface, "I’m the one obsessed with watching you eat pudding. It’s not you who loves making me watch."

Minho gulped a little too thickly at your words to go unnoticed. You flashed a smile.

"Your Adam’s apple begs to differ, just saying,"

You could literally observe him malfunctioning right in front of you, trying to throw one of his usual snarky comebacks at you but royally failing at it. You took a step closer to him.

"You’re aching to touch me right now, aren’t you?"

And you whispered the killing blow right in his ear.

"Fucking simp."

You could swear you saw a lighting flash in Minho’s eyes.

"Fucking tease."

"Arrogant fucker."

"Goddamn menace. Get over here."

Minho grabbed your wrist in a tight grip, making you drop the cup in the process, and dragged you to his room. He slammed the door close and pushed you onto it, fully trapping you under his frame.

"Fucking finally. Let me see what's mine."

He almost tore the fabric when he pushed the bust of your dress down to reveal your chest to him. The aggressive kiss that started on your lips dripped to your neck and he kept grazing his teeth on your skin as he pushed his leg between yours to spread them apart. You couldn’t help the urge to squeeze his thighs and he fucking clenched them at the touch.

"Hot damn, these are… Fuck, Minho."

"You wanna ride them, don’t you?"

Minho lifted you up with a swift movement to have you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you to his bed, and dropped the straps of your dress as soon as he sat down, exposing your upper body to him.

"Tell me how much you wanna ride my thighs."

"Fucking make me."

"Do I need to restrain you?"

"Like you could."

"But I would."

Minho pulled his belt from the loops of his pants at one go and lifted your arms up. He lowered the intensity of his lips way down and started kissing you slowly but still very much sensually. Just so he could cater to his ulterior motives of coaxing you into disarming your defenses. He guided your arms behind your nape, and once he got you in the position he wanted, he tied your hands within a small circle, allowing the rest of his belt to dangle behind you like a leash. He simply took advantage of how much his kiss got to your head and you couldn’t even resist it.

"And you’re gonna fucking like it."

He started devouring your nipples and dragged his tongue on every inch of your breasts. Every time you tried to move on his lap, Minho pulled the belt down to keep you in your place.

"Behave," he emphatically declared while staring dead into your eyes and bit your lips, "Tell me how much you wanna ride it."

"Fuck no."

"Say it," he pulled the belt down again, "Say you love my thighs."

You hissed at the delicious sizzle on your wrists and while it was so much fun to dom Minho, this change of dynamics felt so invigorating, causing something to start tickling you inside.

"I wanna fucking bite them."

There it was. His devil smirk under the shadows of his dark gaze.

"Good girl," he nipped at your lips again, "Come on, ride it."

Minho kept sucking on whatever exposed skin he could drag his tongue on, determined to get you literally wet all over as you rode those glorious thighs, smearing your excess juices on his pants. When you felt his erection pressing against your supple skin, you couldn’t help that unnecessarily loud moan.

"Look at you, about to alert the whole damn house. Feeling a little too good, are we?"

"Kiss me again."

So he did. Minho was moaning into your mouth as much as you were moaning into his, and he noticed how much you were trying to restrain that honey-like voice, complete music to his ears.

"Shh, let them," he grazed his teeth on your jawline, "Let them hear."

He clenched his thighs again for you. Those muscles hardening under your pussy like that caused your moans to get a little louder, but it was the accelerated panting that alerted Minho that you were close.

"Oh, fuck no."

He pinned you against the mattress at the very last second, eliciting a very frustrated groan out of you.

"Did I say you can cum?"

"I don’t remember being told I needed permission."

"Do you only do things when you’re told to do them? Because that fucking works to my advantage," Minho hovered over you to attach the belt around your wrists to his headboard, effectively eliminating your ability to move freely.

"Spread those pretty legs for me."

You started at him for about three seconds before talking.

"Make me."

Minho found the sass attempt very amusing. He squinted his eyes as he slowly slid his hands up your inner thighs and spread your legs in one harsh movement.

"Cocky-ass walking ego," you scoffed, "I fucking hate your smug face."

"Sure, that’s why you’re this wet, isn’t it? Not because you think my smug face is so pretty."

He pressed his thumb on your drenched underwear, sneakily hooking his index and middle fingers behind the fabric covering your glazed pussy, and held your gaze again.

"Not because my cockiness fucking turns you on."

Minho ripped the garment with one rough pull to expose you to himself fully and admire your pussy up close, sopping wet because of him and him only. He positioned himself between your legs, pinning your legs in place to prevent you from moving, and gently blew air on your clit. If he kept denying you the much needed contact, you were going to go insane.

"Eat me like the way you make me watch."

"That’s way too specific," he smirked, "Do you want to replace the cups in my fridge by any chance?"

Softest of kisses right above your clit. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. He knew what he was doing to you.

"How fucking clueless are you? I imagine this pussy every time I eat pudding."

You were thinking maybe Minho was actually going to manage to make you cum by simply kissing your thighs. The leftover arousal mixed with your frustration of not getting your release was still there and was borderlining on excessive by then. He displayed a shred of mercy by moving his lips onto your labia, kissing them softly while stroking your legs.

"Fucking god. More."

"Thank you for calling me that," Minho smiled into your pussy, "but no."

He had you squirming under him for quite some time, absolutely refusing to provide you with any kind of friction. You had no choice but to swallow your pride if you didn’t want to lose your mind over this sweet torture.

"Wh-What’s it gonna take?"

"For what, baby?" he gently sank his teeth into your thighs, marking hickeys on them.

Oh, this fucker knew. He knew something started happening to you every time he called you baby.

"For you to eat me already, what’s it gonna fucking take?!" you yanked your wrists towards yourself as if you could break free of them and just press his face on your clit. Minho innocently batted his lashes at you.

"Nothing much. Just ask for it."

"Eat me."

"Oh, did I say ‘ask’?" he kissed your pussy and tsked, "I’m so sorry, I meant fucking beg."

You were on the verge of crying because of the incessant denial.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please eat me. Please."

His devil smile again. But it was a really content one this time around.

"Good girl."

When Minho attached his plush lips over your clit, the sensation was so overwhelming that it took everything in whatever willpower you had left not to scream.

"FUCKING-"

Like a kitten purring over how happy it was, Minho closed his eyes and kept sucking on you, softly moaning against you as he soaked you more, practically drooling over how pretty your pussy was. No experience but still had technique? Was he really a natural at this maybe?

"And how- Fucking- How did you t-train for this?"

"Pudding. I was told to eat it with gusto and that would do the job," he kept slurping on you with extremely obscene sounds, "and you make it so fucking easy to have a craving."

You were moments away from snapping already, and Minho picked up on that from the way your legs started shaking.

"Minh- Close-So c- FUCK!" 

"Are you now?" he abruptly stopped his ministrations. If you could manage to grab your own hair, you would fucking pull it.

"NO! Don’t stop!"

"Say the magic word."

"Please."

"Not that one." 

As Minho kept kissing your thighs, you couldn’t help the loudness of your voice due to unbearable frustration.

"What the hell IS IT?" 

His smile turned fucking diabolical, but he still wouldn’t stop the teasing.

"I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself."

Devil. This man was the pure fucking undistilled devil.

You writhed under him as Minho kept teasing you to the depths of the pleasure hell, soaking you with his tongue, building you up to the point of combustion just to pull you back from that brink at the last moment. Repeatedly. You had lost count of how many times he committed that delicious assault already.

"Please. I’ll do anything just… Just- Please!"

"No."

"Please, baby!"

You couldn’t see it since you kept squeezing your eyes, but Minho’s gaze softened.

"Good girl. Took you long enough, huh?" 

He reached into his nightstand to pull some stuff out, but the angle didn’t allow you to see what those were. Once he settled between your legs again, you could swear Minho changed colors right before your eyes. 

"You’re gonna hold it for me now. Or else…"

He pushed his fingers inside and hooked them just like you told him to the other day, and started moving.

"Minho, FUCK!"

"You do want people to know, don’t you?" he chuckled, "A little louder and you’ll let the entire building know how I got you literally wrapped around my finger, baby."

You thought he’d leave it at that and finally let you have your release. Finally. How fucking clueless were you indeed? Lee fucking Minho doing anything short of excessive?

What a cute little delusion.

Minho pulled his fingers out and placed something inside you instead, and from the way it felt, it was a bullet vibrator.

"Remember. Hold it."

He pressed on and started lapping at you in earnest. He was literally going all in on you and you were supposed to hold yourself back? In which universe was that even possible?

"Minho, please."

"What is it, baby?"

"I can’t take it anymore."

"But doesn’t it feel really good?"

"Please, enough. Let me c- Let me cum."

"No," he licked another stripe over your clit, "I’m not full yet."

"Baby, please. Please!!!!"

You were thrashing under Minho on the literal verge of your sanity, absolutely convinced that he harbored some sort of sadistic tendencies watching you go insane like that.

"Good girl. Such a good girl. Louder."

"Please."

"Not that one".

"Baby!"

"I said hold it."

"Can’t. Fucking can’t!"

Your orgasm went straight to your head like a scorching brain freeze, numbing your entire body in the process while Minho insisted on not breaking contact with your clit. You were throbbing so hard that you actually pushed the vibrator out of you.

"Tsk, it was such a simple request, baby, but you couldn’t hold it," Minho pecked your crotch and reached for his nightstand again, "Needless to say, there will be consequences. No matter how pleasurable."

When you saw what he was holding in his hand, however, your eyes widened in surprise.

"Is that… Is that a double tongue vibrator?"

"You know it."

You were staring at Minho’s face mouth all agape, so many questions raiding your head to be answered, yet you blurted out the least relevant one.

"Where the fuck did you observe this?"

He knowingly smiled, almost proud of the reaction he was able to get from you.

"Self-study, baby. Product reviews," Minho placed the toy right next to him, threw your legs on his shoulders, and aligned his rock-hard length at your entrance, "Let’s stretch you out a little more first."

By all fucking means, the feeling of him rubbing against your walls stretching you open like that was so so welcome. When Minho bottomed out, he closed his eyes with a groan, looking like he was already fucked out, and relished the way you were wrapped around him. When you clenched, he twitched inside you in response.

"Fucking GOD, shouldn’t you be at least a little open by now? Why are you this fucking tight?"

The remains of your arousal were still there and it allowed Minho to move effortlessly. There was this particular spot inside you that he really really liked, spongy texture making him feel like he was getting licked at the tip, and his mind was infested with the thought of shooting his entire load right there. 

"Faster."

"No."

"Please."

"Nuh uh."

What did he say? This was just to stretch you out. Of course he wasn’t going to let you bask in the feeling just yet. Who knew what kind of deranged tricks he had up his sleeve?

"Please. Fucking please! I need you to fucking pass through me."

Minho involuntarily smiled at your request, "Do you now?"

"Harder. More."

"Careful what you’re asking for, baby."

"Fucking do it!"

Minho pulled out of you and reached for the toy again. You were expecting him to just fuck you with it, indulge in his usual edging olympics. That was exactly why your jaw fucking dropped when he placed the vibrator right on top of his cock and grabbed them both in his fist.

"You’re still dripping for me. You can take it, right?"

You eyed that magnificent view that was a little too erotic not to salivate over, albeit with a tinge of hesitation, but you ended up nodding nevertheless.

"Of course you can. You’re the only one who can take it this good."

He slowly started to make his way in again. While it was an overwhelming amount of pleasure you were experiencing, it still required some getting used to.

"Good?"

"Slower."

"I’m gonna get you to fucking combust for me," Minho took his sweet time settling in and once he bottomed out, he placed a kiss on your ankle residing on his shoulder.

"Give it to me now."

"FUCKING-!"

You had never felt that full in your life before. Once Minho was convinced you got used to the girth, he quickened his pace, and the way your moans were getting more uncontrollable, turning into unhinged guttural grunts like that let him know that he was on the right path. 

"You can take more now, can’t you?"

You frantically nodded, unable to form a single coherent thought, let alone a full sentence, and Minho turned the toy on. The additional pistoning licking into your deepest spots as well as the stimulations right over your clit were aiding and abetting his efforts to snap you way sooner than anticipated.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Minho! Close. So fucking close."

Close? Why the fuck would you say that knowing damn well that it was the way to get Minho to edge you again? Of course he would lower the intensity of the vibrator.

"Say the magic word."

"Please."

Then he lowered it some more.

"Not that one."

Think. THINK!

If there was one thing that could get Minho to combust, it was jerking off his already colossal ego. Now that would be a sight to see. 

Maybe it was finally your turn to retaliate.

"Why are you this pretty, baby?"

That made Minho twitch inside you so aggressively that you couldn’t help but pat yourself on the back for the festivities on the horizon.

Checkmate, indeed.

"You make me absolutely salivate, you know that right?"

"Oh, fuck."

"I can’t fucking think about anything else besides your thighs anymore."

"Fucking-"

"Fuck me into this mattress."

You grabbed onto his thighs and squeezed them to force him to look at you.

"Baby."

"You fucking menace."

Minho fucking snapped, immediately shifting the gear from two to five, basically drilling you with everything he got. All you could do was moan. And moan. And moan louder.

"What is it, baby? Too busy taking me so fucking well?"

The louder you screamed his name, the more his own moans were transforming into animalistic grunts. Minho was literally going insane over sheer lust right before your eyes.

"Fuck, I have to take you. I have to. I can’t help it. I just need to fucking consume you."

He was riling himself up as much as you were, which was probably why he couldn’t help the urge to bite into your ankle.

"Ready? Ready to cum for me now?"

"Minho, please."

"Say the magic word."

"Baby, please!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Minho pulled out the toy and started slamming himself into you with so much enthusiasm that he was actually about to bury you into the mattress just like you asked him to. When you clenched around him, he came so hard that you could literally map out all the spots his seed landed on inside you. He was incredibly stunning panting over you, riding out his high with erratic thrusts, looking absolutely fucked out under a beautiful sheen of sweat covering all over his body. Once he managed to achieve the bare minimum post-nut clarity, he untied your hands, placing kisses on them to soothe the burn, and collapsed right next to you, brushing your hair away from your face.

"I uh- Thank you."

You almost burst into laughter hearing the Lee Minho uttering words of gratefulness since you weren’t even aware that he possessed them in his vocabulary.

"For what?"

"You know. For letting me do this."

The smile on his face was much more pastel-colored this time around. It wasn’t the orange of playful banters. It wasn’t the dark red of desire. It was just as light pink as his flushed cheeks, spelling complete adoration on his face. The curls at the edges of his beautiful lips mirrored themselves on yours and you felt your heart swell twice its size out of excessive endearment. You brushed the hint of embarrassment away in the only way you knew how.

"Fucking simp."

"Fucking menace."

Minho tackled you into an embrace and smothered your face with kisses, which got interrupted by the aggressive banging on the door, and you heard Jisung from the other side.

"Sorry to interrupt but if you’re finally done, we’re raiding your pudding stash, Min. We forgot to get a birthday cake for Chris."

«GENERAL MASTERLIST» · «ABOUT/FAQ» · «ASK/REQUEST»

📌Permanent taglist: @sai-kida134 ; @ughbehavior ; @bearseungmin ; @skywarriorkirby ; @sunnyville36 ; @hh0320 (@hwan-g) ; @svintsandghosts ; @jl-micasea-fics ; @skz317cb97 ; @abiaswreck ; @skyminniesworld ; @clearlyissleeping ; @changbinluvr ; @lotus-dly ; @gibbysupremeacyisreal ; @lomllino ; @emogril ; @imsuchasimp00 ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @seosalad ; @downforseochangbin ; @nabis-dreamscape-world ; @bangchanbabygirlx ; @@janvibutbetter ; @danyxthirstae01 (feat. @hyunee1)

[spilledtee-deactivated20230307]

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Word Count: 10k

Warning: afab!reader, common flu and symptoms mentioned, safeword mention (though not used), food and alcohol mentioned, mention of fwb relationship, slight food play, slight quirofilia (hand kink), slight cruophilia (thigh kink), slight strength kink, slight voyeurism, smut, fingering (f.receiving), oral (m. and f.receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), dirty talking, mutual masturbation, anal play, threesome- F/M/M, double penetration, some intimate actions during dinner, established relationships (reader is fwb! with Chan), dom!Chan, dom!Minho, switch!reader

Synopsis: After feeling rather sick week, Chan figures out the best way to cheer you up is with some classic romance…and Minho?

A/N: This was not proofread but please enjoy regardless. I really hope that the tags are working for this one because I really enjoyed writing this. Thank you to @skzseasons​ for hosting this event! This is for !S week with dom!skz

Keep reading

[skzseasons]

hey guys! i’m @hh0320. my blog got banned by tumblr and they still haven’t resolved the issue! so I’ll still be participating, but from this blog, if possible! ty for your understanding. can’t wait for everyone’s posts! 🤍

hey there, thank you for letting us know 😌

we changed the @ to your new one on the participation list and we’re looking forward to your entry 💝 hopefully tumblr resolves the issues with your other blog soon

— admin aj 🩹

[skzseasons]

!S Week🐚 Creator Participation List

Summer 2022 Event🍦

☀️ @bunnypig18

☀️ @cb97percent

☀️ @hwan-g

☀️ @j-0ne25

☀️ @multifandomfantasies

☀️ @muselin

☀️ @planetdream

☀️ @seungmiilk

☀️ @spilledtee

☀️ @straywrds

Reminder:

Participating works can be posted anytime between August 21st to the 27th. Tag your works with '!S week' and mention the event blog so we can reblog and add it to the event masterlist; if you’re active on AO3, we also have an event collection you can add your work to! 🍦☀️

[muselin]

Right In Front Of You - Stray Kids Bang Chan

Pic source

Who: SKZ Bang Chan × reader. reader's gender not specified, reader has a vagina

What: 🔞⛔️smut. @skzseasons entry for Oopsie June event. You and Chan have been friends for a while, but all of that is about to change when you accidentally send him some photos which were far more appropriate for the likes of your umpteenth online date.

Word count: 6,250

____________________________________

It was a genuine slip when you mis-tapped and instead of your online date, you sent the photo to Chan. You had just been on a promising evening out with a guy you'd met online, ready for a stress-busting fling and nothing more, but also wanting it to last more than one night so you held out on the fun stuff. Didn't mean that you couldn't build up anticipation and tease though.

Scrolling through your phone for good bait, you came across a mini-photoshoot you had done for yourself in your most confidence-boosting lingerie on a drunken evening last week. A few of the photos had even ended up with your bra off and your nipples playing peek-a-boo between your fingers. Still buzzed from the cocktails earlier, it seemed like a good idea to pick some of those photos to send. Your fuzzy mind didn't register that you had picked the wrong chat, and you blissfully dozed off shortly after.

Chan was still in the studio with Jisung when his phone vibrated with the notification from you. Idiot that he was, he hadn't changed his notifications not to display thumbnails of pictures he was sent.

"Holy shit hyung! You've been hiding out on us! Why didn't you tell us that you had a "special friend"?" Jisung screeched, bolting upright and nearly knocking their cups of coffee over.

"What are you talking about," Chan scrambled for his phone with genuine confusion, nearly dropping it. He pulled up the latest notification and his eyes went as wide as dinner plates. There you were, in lacy, see-through panties and nothing more, wearing a cute, winky smile and only your hands covering your chest, not even very well.

"Who is that? Looks really hot!" Jisung said as he tried to peer over Chan's shoulder at the photo but earned himself a hard shove in the process.

"That's no one, it's one of those spam messages again," Chan lied unconvincingly. "Didn't you, uh, didn't you get the same one last week?"

"Pshhh, mine didn't look like that!"

"Well then you're just unlucky. Get out."

"What? Why?!" Jisung yelped.

"We're done for tonight, I'll finish this later and run it by you," Chan ushered the younger out the door quickly.

"Fine, I'll confirm who's coming from the guest list for the album wrap party then," Jisung huffed.

When the door shut behind his teammate, Chan remained upright, taking out his phone again immediately. Somehow the message was still there and hadn't been deleted. He hadn't even noticed that there was a caption: "Can't wait for you to play with me tomorrow night ;)"

Chan's blood suddenly rushed in his ears. The album wrap party was tomorrow. But how could you possibly imply what he thought you were implying? You and Chan had been friends for nearly a year. Sure, maybe there had been a little bit of flirting but neither of you had done anything about it. Chan never had enough time and you were always dating someone. He stared at your photo until he felt himself stir in his sweatpants. Fucking great. Now he was going to have to face you tomorrow with this image of you burned into his brain..

Needless to say, Chan slept even less than usual that night.

____________________________

You woke up around noon the next day, on the tail end of your confidence high from last night and giddy to find out what your date's reaction to your photo was.

You opened up your messages but after your "good night" one thanking you for a nice time there was nothing else from your date. Hold on... where was your photo that you had sent to him? You were sure you had sent it, scrolling up and down through the conversation but it was nowhere to be found. Maybe your Internet had flaked out and it hadn't sent? Maybe your WiFi had gone down during the night, you had no messages from Chan either, and he always messaged you good morning, chatting about what he was doing that day.

You opened up your chat with Chan and your breath caught in your throat. Your daring, smiley naked photo was right there, staring back at you with all the confidence you had last night. And the message had been read. Your mind drew a blank for a good thirty seconds.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Right.

So it could just be Chan being too busy and marking his messages as read? No, he never did that to you. Only to less important people like HR. Maybe he just clicked the conversation but didn't actually look? Wouldn't that account for the lack of a response?

Your explanations were sounding more pathetic to you with each one until the only thing you could bear to do was delete the photo. You intended never to acknowledge that you had sent it to Chan, and if he pressed you, you would say that your phone had a virus and the picture was fake. Yes, that should do it.

You did your best to obliterate any doubts and fears from your mind as you went about getting ready for the day, but all too quickly your phone buzzed with several messages and a call. With your heart hammering in your chest you glanced at the screen, a sigh of relief slumping your shoulders when you realised it was Jisung.

"Hello," you answered.

"Dude!! I'm in deep shit!" Jisung's voice blared on the other end of the line. "Please tell me you're free tonight, please!"

"Depends what for, what is it?"

"Our album wrap party is tonight and I was in charge of the guest list, but idiot that I am, I just assumed you knew so I didn't think to tell you."

"Now I'm hurt, Jisung," you joked. "Why would you ever leave me out of anything that includes new music and alcohol?"

"Don't be like this, come on! You know you're always the first one we call. Please tell me you can come, otherwise Chan-hyung will kill me!"

"Oooh, I'm not so sure about that," you squinted. "He might be relieved not to have to deal with my loud ass in front of people." You were vaguely hoping you could somehow get out of going to the party wirhout having to lie and make things up because you were so frazzled that you didn't think you would be able to come up with anything convincing. Equally, the idea of facing Chan so soon (or at all really) after what you sent and without knowing whether he saw it seemed simply insurmountable at the moment.

"That's bullshit, you know he gets a laugh off of you being tipsy, you're adorable," Jisung chuckled. "Look, if Chan-hyung doesn't kill me, Minho-hyung one hundred percent will kill me because he's the one who actually put me in charge of the guest list!"

"Oh? Right..." You tsked. Jisung had a point, Minho was frightening when it came to unfinished tasks he set.

"Fine, but I'm only staying for champagne, Jisung."

"Thank you so much, you've legit saved me! See you there!"

Jisung hung up excitedly, chucking his phone on his bed as he headed for the bathroom to start getting ready. As the resident high-maintenance diva he could easily take a couple of hours. He found the door locked, however.

"I need to get in there, who's in there," he yelled.

"Ah! Uh.. It-it's me, um," Chan's stutter was muffled through the door.

"Hurry up, hyung, I gotta get ready!"

"Why, what time is it," Chan yelled back.

"Two."

For fuck's sake, Chan muttered under his breath, hoping to whoever would listen that Jising hadn't heard anything before he knocked and holding on to the waistband of his sweatpants with one hand.

"The party isn't for, like, four hours, do you really need to get ready now?"

"You know I like to get my hair just right, hyung, now hurry up," Jisung whined.

Shutting his eyes and biting his tongue to stop from swearing, Chan answered "Fine, I'll be out in a minute."

He waited for Jisung's footsteps to grow quieter until he couldn't hear them anymore, and then took his hard cock back out of his pants, stroking from base to tip and biting his lip at the sensation.

Even though they each lived in their own rooms now, the no-locked-door policy that was meant to prevent them getting too isolated was certainly a pain for Chan when he wanted to do one of the few things that helped with stress which was to jack off in peace. Jisung had definitely killed his vibe but Chan's body was not so quick to yield, his cock still hard and a heaviness setting in his balls.

Chan would have to be quick but he was never one to cum fast. As he stroked himself he wondered how he could make things go quicker...

His phone was in his pocket still, and Chan reached for it, unlocking it while his prim and proper side screamed at him about how wrong what he was intending to do was. He had seen earlier that you deleted the pictures you sent him from the chat, but they had already been saved into his gallery since last night.

Over the course of the dark hours, Chan had re-evaluated his entire perception of you. He'd been too respectful to ogle you before, but with nothing but time as sleep evaded him, his mind drifted to the realisation that your way of dressing had been changing recently. Much more form fitting and revealing which seemed to always happen when he was around. Not to mention how quick you had become to drop anything you might have been doing with whoever you were dating whenever Chan let you know he had time to hang out. And you always seemed to need help lifting something or other these days, bending over to pick things up and then complaining until Chan would come over to cover your hands with his, taking over from you. God only knew how hard it had been for Chan not to stare at your ass during those times.

Your pictures were the last straw, really. Chan had a big, inconvenient crush on you but his dick only cared about how fucking good you looked winking at him in the photo he was staring at, your chest bare and your fingers toying with your nipples. And his brain was only filled with images of how good you would look sucking his cock, how good you would feel wrapped around him when he slipped inside you, how lovely you would sound moaning for him as he fucked you and kissed you and played with your nipples and...

"Oh fuuuck...," Chan spilled over his hand with a bitten back moan, his head swirling in ecstasy. His breath whooshed out of him all at once and he found himself gasping, suddenly overwhelmed due to cumming unexpectedly quickly and unexpectedly hard. He slumped onto the toilet seat, staring at his sticky hand and the floor as the guilt came back and he was panicking about how he would make it through tonight.

_______________________________

You hadn't dressed up on purpose, you really hadn't. You really hadn't thought about putting on your most flattering jeans and your risqué top, you just grabbed the first things you had seen. The result was still the same, however, and when Jisung opened the door for you, his mouth didn't close for at least ten seconds.

"Okay what the fuck... How did I not know you were so hot??"

"Thanks Jisung," you laughed, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly. "Can I come in?"

"Oh yeah, sure, sure, sorry, go on in," Jisung was tripping over himself as he opened the door wider for you and ushered you to the main area of the large apartment they lived in. The open kitchen and living room had a few banners and posters from the new release and the kitchen bar countertype was generously lined with wine, beer and spirits.

You bolted straight for the drinks before you even greeted anyone, unable to handle the possibility of Chan being the first one. You grabbed the first bottle of spirits you came near, wrestling with the cap.

"Bit rude to not greet the hosts, don't you think?"

Minho appeared beside you, drink in hand and eyebrow raised.

"I'm so sorry, I was just shy," you lied. "I don't know your other friends and I was hoping someone might introduce me."

Minho helped you open the bottle you were struggling with and set about filling your glass.

"Sorry, I don't feel like babysitting tonight," Minho said bluntly with a grin. "But since you're Chan's guest, technically, he should be doing the introductions. As soon as he can pick up his jaw off the floor."

"What are you talking about," you frowned in confusion. Minho handed you the glass and wrapped one arm around your shoulder, turning you slightly to avoid pointing openly. You scanned the people in front of you and noticed Chan sitting on the sofa, seemingly completely spaced out from a conversation with a staff member and was zoning out with his eyes fixed to your hips. He didn't even notice you looking at him.

"What's with him," you whispered to Minho.

"Have you SEEN yourself tonight," he laughed quietly, eyes scanning you up and down openly to reinforce his point. 

"Yeah, so what? Chan doesn't drool over people like that."

"True, he doesn't normally. But he does he wants to fuck their brains out."

"Minho!!" You shrieked and Chan was startled, finally noticing you properly and immediately turning away, pretending to be suddenly interested in the conversation with the staff member.

Minho laughed evilly. "You don't believe me? Watch this."

He reached over and trailed his fingers up over your arm, then lightly caressed the side of your face, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You watched Chan through this and whatever he had been saying stopped mid-sentence as his eyes were glued to you and Minho.

"Told you so," Minho said quietly next to your ear then tugged you towards Chan with him.

"Wait, you can't make me talk to him now," you whisper-shrieked but were forced to follow anyway.

"Hey hyung, Y/N is here. You should do some introductions."

Minho then promptly turned on his heel and walked off. You glared angrily at him before you remembered your senses and tried to get a grip on yourself.

"Hey, Chan... Congratulations on the new album," you put on your most convincing smile as you clutched your glass in your hands, starting to take frequent sips.

"Oh yeah, thanks, thanks. It's really good to uh, be able to celebrate it," Chan smiled graciously, fidgeting in his seat the way he normally did. "Um, this is my friend Y/N, hyung," he introduced you to the staff member and you exchanged pleasantries. You were only half-paying attention as your eyes slid down Chan's neck to the generous open collared shirt he was wearing, his upper chest exposed and the sleeves rolled up on his forearms. You noticed the abnormally fast pulsing at the side of his neck. He was very nervous.

After bowing respectfully, you excused yourself to the bathroom. You just needed a minute to collect yourself and come up with a game plan. Said plan was thwarted before its inception, however, by Felix and Hyunjin as they turned up the music and announced that they would give everyone a preview of the choreography for the title track.

The guests cleared a space in the middle of the large living room and you were forced to join the cheering as Felix, Minho and Hyunjin showed off their moves while Changbin rapped the verse. The little showcase continued with Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin then picking up mics and singing one of the ballads on the new album. Jisung was listing thanks and tributes in between lines and forcing people to dance. People awkwardly broke off into couples to slow-dance and you pointedly avoided looking in Chan's direction at all.

"You shouldn't be such a spoilsport, it's a party in our honor." You heard Minho's voice from beside you and turned to face his smug expression. He extended his hand to you melodramatically and you took it, allowing him to lead you towards the middle of the makeshift dance floor. He placed one hand on your waist and held on to your other hand, moving your fingers so they were on top.

"Is he watching," Minho asked without moving his eyes away from you. "Behind me, next to the speakers."

You tried to look around as inconspicuously as possible and sure enough, there Chan was, leaning against the wall by the speakers with his arms crossed and fists clenched, staring daggers into the back of Minho's head.

"What's going on, Minho? What to do you know and why is Chan being like this?"

"I wasn't sure, it was just a theory but it's been proven true tonight," Minho smiled and swayed you along to the music. "Chan-hyung has it so bad for you that if you do nothing about it tonight, I'm gonna have to deal with an even more sleepless, even more stressed version of him for the entire upcoming promotion period."

"Why now? We've been friends for a while and he's never been like this, what could have changed," you asked, knowing fully well that it was because of the picture you sent him.

"He's always been protective but I've seen him basically drooling over you that many times that it was clear he's attracted to you. He's never talked about it so my guess is that he must have suddenly seen you in a different light and is gathering the courage to do something about it."

Minho was scarily perceptive and you suddenly felt the full weight of the guilt over putting Chan through a charade. You let go of Minho's hand and stopped dancing.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault. I do know what's changed. I'll go and talk to Chan."

Minho smiled and ruffled your hair playfully. "Go get him, tiger."

Just as you turned to look for Chan, you noticed him lean off the wall abruptly and dart off down the hallway which led to one of the bathrooms and his room. You went after him, hoping to catch him before he locked himself somewhere. As you rounded the corned you saw him opening the door to his room and you ran after him, catching the door before it closed.

"Chan, wait. I need to ask you something. Can I come in?"

He looked around sheepishly, trying his best to control his tense expression.

"Oh yeah, um... Sure, come on in."

You walked into his room and closed the door behind you. Your friend was standing in the middle of the room stiffly, arms crossed and not meeting your eyes. This was it. You had to make things right.

"Chan, look... I'm really sorry for upsetting you. I never meant for this to happen. I'm so embarrassed, you were never meant to see that."

Chan bit on the inside of his cheek, not concealing his anger anymore.

"Is that why you've been flirting with Minho right in front of me all evening? You didn't seem very concerned about people not seeing that. Or did Minho put you up to it? I know he gets off on some unconventional stuff, I wouldn't put it past him to tell you to send those pictures to me first before sending them to him. I would just like to not be included in that, thank you very much." Chan's tone got louder and stiffer towards the end and he stepped towards you, trying to get you out of his room.

"Wait, you think this had to do with Minho? No, no, no! You've got this all wrong!"

"Have I? Enlighten me then," Chan scoffed and remained where he was in front of you.

"Those pictures were intended for that online date I told you about the other week! I was sending them right before I went to sleep, I must have misclicked because your names are next to each other in my contacts. I didn't notice until the next morning, as soon as I did I deleted them, but I know you probably already saw them...," you trailed off unconfidently, looking at your hands as you fidgeted.

Chan's expression remained displeased.

"So then what was all that with Minho out there?"

You huffed in exasperation.

"I have no idea, he doesn't know anything about the pictures but he had it in his head that you... That you liked me, I guess? Well, he used worse words than that. So he was proving his own theory."

Chan's whole stance changed. When it came to one of Minho's hunches, there was no kidding around. Especially since in this case it had been correct and Chan suddenly felt stupid for having been so obvious.

"Did you... Did you actually see the pictures?" You voice was small and unsure.

"I did."

"Oh god..." Having clear confirmation that he actually had seen them made you feel very exposed and you hunched slightly, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh hey, come on, don't be embarrassed," Chan's face softened and he reached out a hand to place on your shoulder. "Even if they weren't for me, they were great pictures."

You looked up from behind your hands.

"They were?"

"Yeah, I mean... There aren't many other ways to say this but you're really hot," Chan smiled awkwardly.

That got you to smile and you tapped him on the chest. "Stop, I don't believe you!"

"Well now this is really embarrassing for me, but it's true. Whatever that bastard Minho was seeing is true. It's really hard to ignore you when you look like that," Chan motioned up and down to mean your outfit.

"Does it feel weird to know what's underneath," you asked.

"I wouldn't call it weird but difficult for sure."

"Why is that?"

"Because...," Chan trailed off tensely. "Because it's really hard not to think about it. And to be in a room with you and pretend I'm not thinking about it."

You swallowed thickly. This was it.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to be in a room with you and not think about things too."

"Oh..." His warm eyes finally met yours and held on. So what he'd been thinking was true - your change in style, your sudden need for having help from him with random things.

You let your hands drop in front of you, trying to stop fidgeting. Chan took them in his big warm ones and despite the pounding in his chest, he drew you in to him, wrapping his arms around you like he had done many times before.

"It's hard to just stop here this time," he whispered with his face in your hair.

"Me too," you said as you parted but he wasn't letting you go just yet.

It was simultaneous, the way you both leaned in again and met each other's lips. The feel of Chan's warmth and his sculpted body pressing against yours had you releasing a tiny moan against his lips.

Encouraged by it, he gently traced his tongue between your lips and you opened up for him, deepening the kiss and he pulled you even closer. His hands caressed you, one settling at your waist and the other sliding up your spine to cradle the back of your head. Your own hands were on his chest, feeling the hard muscle and his heart racing underneath. Almost unconsciously, you reached for the buttons on his shirt and popped the first two open.

"Mmm... What are you doing," Chan murmured in between kisses.

"I just want to feel you," you said as you dipped down to kiss his neck. "I want you. Please?"

"You know this is too fast, and the party is still going on out there," Chan said with laboured breaths, making no move to stop you.

"I know but I don't have it in me to care," you whispered against his skin and placed open kissed down the column of his throat and down towards his chest.

With a sigh Chan reached behind you and locked the door. He let you walk him backwards to his bed until his calves pressed against it and he sat down, taking you with him into his lap. You continued kissing and suckling lightly at his neck as your fingers quickly undid all the buttons and you opened his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders. He leaned back on his elbows, exposed as he watched your eyes appreciatively slide up his torso.

"Makes me want to have some pictures of you now," you murmured with a smile which Chan matched as he pushed his shirt off the bed and reached for your top. He made quick work of it and was pulling it off you in seconds.

"That had some complicated fastenings, how did you know how to undo it," you asked as his fingers slid over the bare skin of your back.

"When you were dancing with Minho, all I was imagining was that it was my hands leading you and how I would undress you," Chan said quietly, looking up at you with something simmering in his eyes. He pulled you in for another kiss, bringing your body flush with his. It felt so good to be pressed skin to skin that you hummed into the kiss.

You were straddling Chan and couldn't help but notice him hardening up beneath you. You moved lower onto his lap and you both rolled your hips into each other, testing the friction.

Chan took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment as he processed the sensation and the next thing you knew was him sitting up and pressing you into the mattress, his body cradling yours from the side. His fingers trailed over your skin nervously as he rounded the side of your ribs and continued upwards, cupping and caressing and making you arch your back instinctively into him.

"I admit it's flattering that you're impatient," he whispered from behind you and you could hear his smile. His fingers dipped down to play with the button on your jeans, letting it out easily and sneaking underneath the denim.

You shifted in his arms when you felt his fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your underwear.

"Do you not want me to? We can stop," he spoke quietly, sensing your shift.

"On the contrary. This is just like... When I sent you the photos I thought you would never look at me the way I wanted you to," the words left you in a rush.

"Why would you think that? Who doesn't love getting gorgeous pictures of a gorgeous person they have a crush on," Chan asked in between kisses dropped to your neck. You laughed breathily, still hazy in the bliss of finally being in his arms like this.

"That last part I didn't know about. Please, touch me," you whined, bucking your hips into Chan's hand which had stopped its descent to your folds.

Chan dipped his fingers lower, finally coming into contact with softness and wetness and he trailed his fingers over it as he kissed right underneath your ear. He focused his attention on your clit, starting slow and increasing the pressure a little when you moaned once, twice and then rose in pitch.

"I bet you'll taste delicious, let me make this easier," he said as he withdrew his hand from your jeans and helped you slide them off along with your underwear and leaving you bare on his bed. You latched onto his belt, not letting him proceed without levelling the playing field and he was left in just his boxers. You moved down his body so that you faced his cock and you laid kisses over it through the fabric. Meanwhile Chan tucked his head between your thighs, holding one up to open you up for his attention.

You felt him part your lips a little with his fingers and his tongue trailed in between slowly. You hummed and shiveredas he settled for licking and teasing your clit with light strokes.

Remembering your intentions, you pulled Chan's boxers down enough to free his cock, unable to stop the little "oooh" that made its way out in reaction to it.

"See anything you like, baby?"

Okay no. That should not be legal, Chan asking you that question in that low tone, a hair's breadth away from your clit. Your response was a very enthusiastic "mmmm" as you dipped down to taste him, running your tongue up the length of his cock and feeling it harden even more. Not to be outdone, Chan wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking gently, fingers moving down as he slipped one inside you experimentally.

The result was you moaning right against his balls as you took turns sucking each one into your mouth. From the way Chan pushed his hips forward, that was definitely a plus. Your tongue found the sensitive spot right underneath the flared head of his cock and you applied pressure there, using the texture of your tongue to tease him. The broken moan that tore from Chan's chest made your head spin.

He eased a second finger into you, meeting very little resistance with how absolutely soaked you were, and in return you opened your mouth to take Chan in properly. He withdrew from you to take a peek at the view, and it was every bit as thrilling as he'd imagined it. Your lips stretched around his cock made it a feat for him not to thrust into your mouth and it made him want to please you more. He dove into your folds, increasing the pace with his fingers and tongue and experimenting with the depth and force of his strokes until he had your hips shifting and your thighs tensing, unconsciously asking for more.

You found a rhythm with your mouth and hands over Chan's cock, using both hands to stroke him and play with his balls. You pressed down on the root of his cock, feeling the muscle strain and Chan groaned louder.

"That-that feels too good, I don't wanna cum yet," he nearly begged.

"We can do other things," you teased as you pulled up off his dick, coaxing him to move so you could finally get rid of his boxers.

When he kicked them off, he grabbed you and took you down with him, chuckling quietly as he laid you over his body, fitting himself between your thighs. His cock brushed against you, slippery and warm as you were and you could have cum on the spot from the way he looked underneath you, biting his full lip and looking at you wantonly.

You kissed him hungrily, steadying yourself atop him and he guided his cock to your entrance. Mid-kiss, just like that he slipped into you and you gasped loudly at the stretch. He shut his eyes, moaning so beautifully for you as he guided your hips to fully sit on him and he fitted all of himself inside you.

It felt so natural to grind on him like his hands were urging you to, the friction and fullness taking your breath away. Chan's hands were restless, leaving your hips and caressing up your back and over your chest as he helped you thrust from below.

"You feel so fucking good," you told him brokenly, head fuzzy from the realisation that not only was this actually happening but it was so good that you could feel the tension in your abdomen already mounting.

"You like it, baby?" He said softly but his voice was unmistakably tense with lust.

"Does it all fit, Channie?" Your own register surprised you. It wasn't often that someone could make you whine like that.

"Let's see," Chan teased as he helped you sit upright and thrust up from below, buring every single inch of his dick inside your heat. "Fits just right," he said as he let go of your hip and moved to thumb at your clit.

Having him so deep was driving you crazy and you braced your knees into the mattress, gaining back some leverage to thrust onto him. The change in angle had him hitting your most sensitive spot and you got louder, prompting Chan to pull you down over him to kiss you and swallow your noises.

"I want to make you cum baby but we still need to be quiet," he murmured against your lips as his fingers returned to your clit.

"Channie, fuck! I'm so close, just like that!"

Hearing you say that and feeling your walls tighten around him made Chan aware of how close he was himself and he grunted, fucking into you harder. His length was dragging right against your favourite spot and the added fullness of him had you biting on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

"I'm not gonna last long either, fuck... Where... Where do you want me to..."

"Fill me up, I want you to cum inside me, please!"

Feeling his cock grow that little bit harder within your walls, Chan let out a helpless moan.

"You'll be good for me, yeah? You'll take it all," he nearly growled and you nodded frantically, pulling at his wrist so that he wouldn't stop massaging your clit.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned and then next moment you felt him twitch inside you. The small movement tapped into some part of you where it just felt right and you felt the pressure peak to a pinpoint inside you, your walls starting to pulse around Chan's cock.

He was gorgeous as he started cumming too, the hand that was on your clit finding yours and grabbing it tightly as he thrust roughly into you, emptying himself in bursts. Your orgasm washed over you in a wave of relief and Chan didn't let you go until he was fully spent.

He laid you down next to him, slipping out of you carefully and you rested your head against his, staring at the ceiling as you both caught your breaths. Chan reached over to give you some tissues to clean up with. Once that was done, you both rolled over to face each other, still enjoying the afterglow.

"This was amazing," you said, your voice slightly hoarse now from biting back your moans.

"It absolutely was," Chan seconded, his eyes growing heavy. He hadn't slept last night, wired and dreading this evening and the explosion of endorphins had him on the precipice of sleep now that he felt safe with you.

"Someone should really go back to the party," you sighed reluctantly.

"Oh," Chan hummed, eyes already closed and lips barely following.

"It's okay Chan, I'll go back. I'll let you sleep and I'll give you a call tomorrow, okay?"

"Mmhmm." Chan was pretty much asleep already. You laughed to yourself at how cute he could be.

You rose from his bed and looked for your clothes, redressing yourself quickly. You leaned over Chan's sleeping form and kissed his pouty lips, smiling at him returning your kiss a little. There would be time to talk this out in the morning.

________________________________

You tried your best to look nonchalant as you came back into the living room with your glass and went about refilling it. One more drink, congratulate the boys again and then you would excuse yourself for the night.

"Y/N! Having fun?"

Jisung skipped over to you, clearly tipsy.

"Yeah, I'm good, Jisung."

"Where's Chan-hyung," Jisung asked, looking over your shoulder as if you were hiding him there.

"I'm not sure, bathroom maybe?"

"Again? He was in there for a while earlier today, I hope he's not got, you know..." Jising motioned in a way that left little up for interpretation.

"I'm sure he's fine," you laughed, clutching your glass and simultaneously moving closer to the front corridor.

You said your congratulations and goodbyes to the boys as you saw them, content to finally be able to leave.

"Going so soon?"Minho's drawl stopped you on your way to the front door. "I hope you didn't break him," he eyed you suspiciously.

"I don't think so, I think he'll be just fine. I actually got him to sleep."

"Wow," Minho's expression relaxed. "Anyone who can do that is automatically impressive to me."

You smiled back at him.

"Just... Be patient with him, okay?"

You weren't sure why Minho would say that but you nodded anyway, letting him walk you to the door. You watched him wave as you left and he closed it behind you.

You took in the crisp evening air as you walked towards the taxi point and your phone buzzed with a notification. You opened it to find a selfie of Chan in almost the same position as you'd left him, eyes heavy with sleep but there was a smile playing on his lips. He was still naked; chest, abs and the tantalising dips of his hipbones on display. Whoever passed you by would have surely thought you were an idiot, smiling at your phone with your hand clapped over your mouth.

[severely-mentally-ill]

This is for @skzseasons June !S week!

♤◇ I Don't Regret ◇♤

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Male!Reader x Yang Jeongin

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics, sub!Seungmin, sub!Jeongin, dom!Reader, swearing, "accidental" sexting, unprotected mlm sex, bondage, degrading, praise, use of sex toys, use of sex machine, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cum eating, breeding kink, biting, marking, possessive sex, light size kink, Jeongin isn't very experienced with sex, this gets kinda shitty at the end my bad

English is not my first language; this is not proofread so beware grammar mistakes and spelling errors

You let out a frustrated sigh as you look over to the large pile of paper you still had to look over before you were able to go home. It was already ten at night, and those papers would take at least three hours.

You drop your pen onto your desk before raising your hand and rubbing your face to try and ease some tension. Another tired groan falls from your lips as you drop your hands onto your lap. You let out a sigh before moving forward and resting your forehead on the cool wood of your desk. This job was really starting to stress you out.

You lift your head back up after deciding to take a short break. You pull out your phone to check what notifications you got. You see that you had gotten two voicemails from two of your roommates, Seungmin and Jeongin. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you look at the time they had called. Why would they both try to call you at the exact same time? Maybe there was an emergency? "Odd. . ."

You press play on Jeongin's voicemail before bringing your phone up to your ear. All you can hear is the sound of fabric rubbing against something. He must've butt dialed you by accident.

You begin to lower the phone from your ear but just as you're about to stop the voicemail, Jeongin lets out a moan. You stop in your place and bring the phone back up to your ear, listening to see if you heard right. Sure as hell, a few seconds later, another moan can be heard. You furrow your eyebrows again. Was he in pain? You lean forward in your chair as you continue to listen. You had to be sure he wasn't hurt.

It wasn't until you started to hear something wet squelching and more moans and whimpers and whines starting to fall from Jeongin's lips that you connect the dots in your head. He was masturbating.

Your face flushes in realization, but before you can get the chance to pull the phone away, Jeongin speaks, which causes you to freeze in you place.

"Y/N- mmmh. . . yes. . . faster, please. . ." Your eyes widen. You? He was touching himself to the thought of you?

You quickly shake your head before pulling your phone away from your ear and stopping the voicemail. Your eyes close and you let out a deep breath before playing Seungmin's voicemail. At first, it's silent besides a bit of moving around, until you hear a quiet click of a button, and the sound of a machine type thing beginning to move very slowly.

You raise and furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Uh. . ."

A few moments after the machine starts, you hear Seungmin let out a muffled whine, like he was biting down on something. His whines began to get more rapid as the time went on, and began to turn into moans. Pretty soon, you could hear a few more clicks before the machine starting to sound like it was moving faster. Your eyebrows raise again as you realize that he is in fact, using a sex machine.

You lower your phone and stop the voicemail with a groan. How in the hell did both of them butt dial you while masturbating? How did they butt dial you in the first place if they weren't wearing anything that would be holding a phone? Unless. . . did they do it on purpose? You shake your head. No, they couldn't have. Right?

Just as your about to turn off your phone, you get a text message. And then a second one. And who would've guessed? They're from Seungmin and Jeongin.

You take a deep breath before clicking on the notification for Seungmin's text. As soon as you see what he sent, your eyes widen and your mouth drops. He had sent a photo of himself, laying on his side, completely naked, with his one leg raise as his sex machine was fucking into him. His eyes were squeezed shut, his eyebrows were furrowed, but the one thing that caught your eye was his mouth. He had a pair of your briefs in his mouth--the same pair you had put in your dirty laundry basket that same day.

Just then, he sends you another message; a text this time.

'Sorry, I sent that by accident.'

You blink down at your screen in disbelief. Accident? How do you 'accidently' take a picture like that and 'accidently' send it to the person's underwear you're chewing on?

You don't respond and exit out of the app. You don't even know how to react. You shake your head before looking to Jeongin's notification. Why do you get the feeling he also sent a nude?

You let out a sigh before clicking on Jeongin's notification. "Oh, my God."

It was a photo of Jeongin in front of his mirror, face down with his ass in the air, his side was facing the mirror and he was using one of your dildo's and holding it inside his ass while his other hand held his phone in position to take the photo. Then, you get a text from him.

'That was an accident, my bad.'

You exit the app and turn off your phone and toss it into your bag before quickly returning to your paperwork. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't go home yet.

You look between the two boys in front of you, the only thing they have on is a collar each. Jeongin's collar was black leather with black faux fur lining the inside and a silver hoop on the front, while Seungmin's collar was white leather with white faux fur and a golden hoop. They fit them both perfectly, almost too perfectly.

You then turn away, walking over to your dresser, the one where you keep your special items, and look around before grabbing a couple of things. You then walk over to the boys. "You two wanna be exhibitionists so badly," Seungmin and Jeongin watch as you take two clear silicone dildo's and stick them onto your floor with suction cups, setting them up to they were right across from each other, "then you can watch each other as you ride these dildo's."

The two boys eyes widen in response. Seungmin shakes his head. "W-Wait, no. . ." He speaks up before taking a step forward. "W-Want you, please."

You raise your eyebrow at him. "What makes you think you deserve me? Especially after you sent me those photos and voicemails?"

Jeongin shakes his head. "I-It was an accident."

"Really?" You ask. "You really think I'm going to believe that the two of you each sent me a photo of yourself and a voicemail of you masturbating on. . . accident?" You let out a laugh. "Don't even try."

You grab the bottle of lube and pour some on your hand before spreading it onto one of the dildo's. Seungmin whines. "No, I'm sorry- we're sorry."

Jeongin nods in response. "W-We just wanted you to notice us and give us attention. Wanted to show you that we like you."

You pause and look up at the two. "You could've just said you did."

Jeongin and Seungmin share a glance before looking down. "You're both lucky I'm in a somewhat forgiving mood." As you move over to put lube on the other dildo, you look up and between the two boys once again. "Whoever can ride their dildo while watching the other without looking away, gets a reward."

After finishing spreading the lube on the dildo's, Jeongin speaks up. "What's the reward?"

You smirk as you walk over to the two of them. Unbeknownst to them, you had two other toys hidden behind your back. "I'll fuck whoever it is that can succeed."

"What about the other person?" Seungmin asks. You move to stand in front of him, causing him to gulp as he notices the way you tower over him. His breath hitches as he feels your hand grip the base of his dick in your hand, while the other slips a cockring over the tip. His gaze shoots down to watch as you slip on the ring.

"The other person has to watch while riding the dildo. They won't get to cum either, no matter how much they want to or beg to. Well, they won't get the chance to beg, anyways." You then walk over to Jeongin and slip a cockring onto his dick. "So, with my advice, I would keep your eyes open."

Jeongin gulps while Seungmin nibbles in his lip. You walk away from the boys to stand near the dildo's. "Come get in position, but don't start riding them until I say."

The younger two share a short glance before making their way over to each of the toys. They both get into a kneeling position above the dildo's, the tips teasing their entrances, and wait as you grab four more items. You move to stand behind Seungmin, and kneel down behind him. "Hold your hands behind your back. Both of you."

Seungmin and Jeongin are quick to follow your orders. You grab Seungmin's wrists and take one of the two silk ropes and use it to tie his hands behind his back. "This way," you begin as you grab one of your ball gags and secure it on the back of his head after placing the gag in his mouth, "you won't be able to touch yourself. And," you then walk over to kneel behind Jeongin and tie his hands up, "you won't be able to complain about it, but I will still be able to hear your noises."

A soft click rings out as you connect the gag behind his head. You stand up again and walk over to your bed and sit down. "Go ahead. Start riding."

Almost in sync, they both lower themselves onto the silicones. Seungmin sucks in a sharp breath at the sudden stretch while Jeongin whimpers. Their heads fall forward once they've bottomed out, but they both quickly raise them again after remembering what you said. They make eye contact with each other, and their cheeks flush.

They sit still for a few moments. Seungmin is the first to move, rising up and sinking back down rather quickly after only a few moments. You raise your eyebrow at him. "Did you prep yourself before this, Minnie?"

Seungmin moans before nodding, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. Just then, Jeongin begins to move as well. You're quick to notice how Jeongin's eyelids droop a small bit each time he lowers himself back onto the dildo. You tilt your head. "Jeongin is a sensitive one, aren't you, little one?"

Jeongin whines at the nickname, butterflies erupting in his stomach. You chuckle at his response. Cute.

Your gaze drifts over to Seungmin, noticing the furrow of his eyebrows and the pout--well, and attempt at a pout, given the gag making it difficult--on his lips and the small glare he had held on Jeongin. You smirk at this. "Aw, poor Puppy is jealous that baby Innie got a nickname."

Seungmin whines and shakes his head as he begins to move his hips faster. He lets out a muffled 'no' in response as well, but is quickly cut off by a loud moan when the dildo hits his prostate. You notice how his eyes flutter a little bit, and they almost close, but he manages to keep them open.

Your gaze drifted over to Jeongin once again, taking in the sight of him. His thighs were beginning to shake and drool was starting to drip out of his mouth. He looked like such a mess compared to Seungmin. It had only been a couple of minutes, and he already looked ruined. You knew he had very little experience with sex, but damn was he sensitive. Oh, you were going to have fun with this. "You're such a mess, little one. You're so weak. I don't think you'll be able to handle me."

Jeongin's eyes widen and he lets out a panicked whine. Muffled protests begin to fall from his lips as he shakes his head. He wants to look at you, more then anything, but he doesn't want to disobey you.

A tear falls from his eye. You let out a laugh. "Oh, poor baby is crying! I guess it's too much for you. Maybe we should stop this, seeing as you can't handle it-"

"No!" His eyes squeeze shut as a sob falls from his lips. Your eyebrows rise as his eyes shoot open and move over to look at you. He shakes his head rapidly as a smirk rises to your lips. Muffled out please begin to fall from his lips as he tugs at the restraints, desperately trying to reach out to you.

"Sorry, little one. As much as I'd love to make you cry even more, you knew the rule." More tears fall from his eyes and sobs and whimpers fall from his lips.

You stand up and walk over to Seungmin. You first untie his hands, and he lets them drop to his side before reaching up and undoing the gag. You stand up and take a step back away from him. "Get on your hands and knees on the floor. Take off the ring as well."

Seungmin is quick to follow your orders as you get to work on taking off your jeans and briefs. You make eye contact with Jeongin as you remove your briefs, quickly noticing the way more drool falls from his lips once his eyes drift down to your hardened cock. You chuckle. You then reach down and give it a single pump, just to tease him. "Like what you see, little one?"

He whines in response, beginning to move a bit on the fake cock, wishing desperately that it was you. You chuckle at him once again before looking down at the awaiting Seungmin. You can see him looking back and forth between you and your dick, licking his lips at the sight.

You drop to your knees behind him and grab the bottle of lube and a bowl that you had brought. You place the bowl underneath Seungmin before squirting some lube on your hand and spreading it on your dick.

Jeongin watches as you move closer to Seungmin, letting out a muffled whine when he watched you push into Seungmin's ass. He closes his eyes and moves faster on the dildo, trying to imagine that it was your dick he was riding.

Seungmin cries out when you bottom out, your cock pressing right against his prostate before you pull out until only the tip remains and pushing back inside all at once. Your pace begins fast, and Seungmin can't help the way his thighs begin to shake. You hit his prostate head on with each and every thrust you made, causing Seungmin's head to spin from the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

Seungmin was already close to an orgasm from riding the dildo, so it wasn't a surprise when he began to feel the coil in his stomach begin to form. With each thrust, he felt it grow tighter and tighter, causing him to throw his head back and groan. You notice this and grab hold of the base of his dick and hold it so it was angled towards the bowl. "Gonna cum, Puppy?"

Seungmin can't bring himself to talk, the feeling of you so deep inside him making him dizzy. He only nods in response, trying to let out please and begs but only speaking nonsense. How was he this fucked out already?

When he cums, it's with a loud shout and an arch of his back. You don't slow your pace, in fact starting to go faster. You make sure that all of his cum lands in the bowl, not a single stray drop.

Jeongin can't bring himself to look, to focused on trying to reach his high. He knows it's hopeless, but he still tries. He also knows that if he were to look at the scene in front of him, he wouldn't be able to handle it. You manage to look over and watch as more tears fall and more sobs slip from his lips. You bite your lip at the sight. God, did he look so fucking good crying. You can only imagine how good Seungmin looks when he's crying. Maybe you can make it reality.

Jeongin feels your stare on him, causing him to open his eyes and look at you. The sight of his tear-filled eyes makes you almost groan, the sight making the coil in your stomach begin to form. "You-You're such a pretty crier, little one. D-Did you know that?"

You can't help the way you stutter when Seungmin clenches around you, the pain of overstimulation starting to settle in. Jeongin shakes his head and closes his eyes again, dropping his head low as he stills on the fake cock with another sob.

Your attention is brought back to Seungmin, noticing the way he fucked his ass back against you. He mumbles out something, causing you to raise your eyebrow at him. "What was that, Puppy? Speak louder for me."

He drops his head for a second before throwing it back to let out a whine. "Breed me. . . Please. . ."

You raise your eyebrow, a smirk rising to your lips. "Want me to breed you?" He nods rapidly in response. "Want me to get you pregnant to show everyone you're mine? Is that what you want, Puppy?"

"Oh, fuck. . . Yes! Yes, please! Breed me! Fill me up, get me pregnant, please, Y/N!" You bite your lips at his words.

Jeongin can only let out silent sobs. Why couldn't he be bred by you as well? He wants everyone to know he's yours. He lets out a muffled call of your name. You look over to him, noticing the pleading look in his eyes. You smirk. "What, you want to be bred too?" He nods his head rapidly, letting out the best pleas he can. Your smirk only grows. "Too bad you couldn't follow the rule, otherwise I would give you what you wanted."

Jeongin's lip trembles the best it can in response before more tears rise to his eyes. You only laugh at him, causing Jeongin to sob and drop his head.

When Seungmin clenches around you once again, whines and whimpers continuing to spill from his lips, you let out a loud groan before burying yourself deep inside him as your orgasm washes over you. Seungmin let's out a small cry as he feels himself release into the bowl once again.

Once your high as faded, you begin to move once again. Seungmin can only bring himself to whimper as he falls forward, his arms giving out below him. Your pace seems to be much much faster then before, causing the hits on his prostate to be more brutal and more rapid. This only

Jeongin can only stare at the scene in front of him, jealousy filling him. He could take it better then Seungmin can. He knows he can. He would gladly take every orgasm with a smile on his face. Why couldn't he be in Seungmin's place? He deserves it more then Seungmin does!

When Seungmin feels another orgasm rip through him, he can't help but let out a sort of scream. It hurt. But it hurt so good. You only fucked him through it, causing for tears to begin falling and sobs fall from his lips. "Please! N-No more! Too much! 'm too s-sensitive. . "

You land a hard smack on his ass, causing his body to jolt forward. "You can take one more. So shut up and take it."

Seungmin whines but nods, his bottom lip trembling along with his thighs.

It isn't long before he feels the coil in his stomach growing. At the same time, you can feel yours growing as well. And with a few more thrusts, both of you feel your highs crash over you. You throw your head back and moan while Seungmin sobs as he feels himself spill into the bowl once again. He clenches around you tightly, trying to milk you of every last drop of your cum.

You both take a minute to catch your breath before you pull out. However, before any drop of cum and spill from his ass, you grab a butt plug and lube it up before pushing it inside him. He whines quietly at the feeling before sighing. "Th-Thank you. . ."

You chuckle and give his back a soft kiss before grabbing the bowl and pushing it over in front of Jeongin. You move over to him and take off his ball gag. Almost immediately, he starts pleading. "Please fuck me. I can be good, I jus' wanna be bred by you. Please, I'll do anything-"

You cut him off with a hand over his mouth. "Shut up." He nods, so you remove your hand. "Eat everything that's in the bowl. We'll see what happens after that."

[chrswolfie-deactivated20240415]

for your eyes only | seo changbin

↝ changbin x fem. reader

↝ warnings: strong language, explicit content, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap, kids), pet names, dumbification if you squint, bj, hj, creampie

↝ word count: 3.6k words

↝ summary: Having a crush on your boss is dumb, right? It is something that will most likely get you in trouble and fired 80% of the time. But when your boss is this hot, how can you help yourself? How do you help yourself when your boss is the Seo Changbin of SEO Corporations.

authors note: this is my entry for !S week by @skzseasons

Ever since you started working for him, you thought he was the hottest person that ever walked the Earth. The broad shoulders, the chest and back, the tight suit hugging every single crevice of his body, god-like body but soft and slender facial features, it was like the best of both worlds. Whenever he walked into the building, nobody could keep his eyes away from him, women, men, no one. And you were no different from them. You had to hold back every single time from releasing any sounds, even though just seeing him could make you moan and whimper.

You were embarrassed to say but you had times when you found yourself in the bathroom stalls, your panties dropped to your knees and your fingers deep inside your pussy, pumping your fingers in and out and imagining how perfectly your boss’ cock would fit inside you. You’d imagine his hands roaming over your body and playing with your tits and nipples, his mouth latching on every possible exposed skin he could find, kissing and licking all over your skin.

To those thoughts, you’d cum very quickly, sometimes even squirting all over your fingers and the floor. That is how big of an impact he has on you.

It has been way too long since you joined the company, around a year and a half and you thought it was enough of just pleasuring yourself. You had to take the chance and try to flirt with him, possibly ending in his bed.. You knew that wasn’t going to be easy but, at least you had to try.

And there was no more perfect occasion than the yearly company party. They organized it every December as a celebration and ‘thank you’ to all their employees. There was always a lot of food and alcohol and music until the late hours of the night and you knew everyone would be there, including Changbin. No one misses these parties.

You got ready and dressed yourself in the most gorgeous dress you owned. A little pink dress with a slit over your thigh and ruching over your chest. The thin straps barely held the fabric over your body. You accessorized with some long silver earrings, a silver bracelet and a few rings. You put on white stiletto heels and put on your favorite perfume. Your hair was curled in beachy waves and you just let it hang down your back.

For the first time since you’ve started working at the company, you knew what Changbin felt like. The moment you walked inside that event hall, everyone’s eyes were glued on you. However, you were not interested in any of them as your eyes searched the room only for him. You looked over, scanning every single table and person, until you found him. He was sat at the table all the way at the end of the hall, wearing a navy blue suit and maroon colored tie. His hair was slightly slit back and you could see the undercut on the side of his head.. He was so breathtaking that you had to grab on the chair next to you to just keep your balance and not get swooped off your legs.

He was surrounded by a group of people, his closest co-workers, directors, managers, personal assistants and he looked like he was having so much fun. One thing that you found so attractive is that he had the brightest smile that just pulled everyone toward him and he was so outgoing that you could talk to him without feeling pressured at all. He was able to make everyone feel welcome and as if they knew each other since forever. He just had the shiniest aura around him and it was so beautiful.

Before you go over and talk to him, you needed some liquid courage. You sat at your place and ordered your first glass of wine, making some small chat with the coworkers at your table. To be fair, you responded in simple answers since you were too busy eating Changbin with your eyes.

Three glasses in and about an hour and a half later, you finally decided it was the time to go talk to Changbin. It is now or never, you either end up with him for the night or you make a complete fool out of yourself and sign in the resignation letter tomorrow morning. You held your little bag and clutched on it as you walked over to his table. He didn’t notice you until you were already standing there, and he probably wouldn’t if it wasn’t for Chan, his best friend that looked at you and gasped at the sight.

Changbin looked at you and scanned you from head to toe and you could see his mouth turn into a slight smirk. His eyes darted back to yours and he tilted his head “Hi…can I help you somehow?” Changbin asked.

“Yes actually” You swallowed a lump “Can I talk to you for a second….alone?” you smile a bit, trying not to seem so nervous. He nodded and got up, moving away from the table a bit He looked back at you “So… what can I do for you?” he asks.

“Well you see….I was wondering if we can get a drink together and just talk a bit?” You said, your voice unsure and your cheeks blushing bright red. You’ve never been this close to him and you’ve just now realized how beautiful he actually is. He chuckles and put his glass down , fixing his tie “Well, I guess that won’t hurt me… What can I get for you?”

“Just a glass of wine, boss. Thanks” you smile, a heavy rock falling off of your shoulders as the first step was finally done. He called a waiter and ordered you a glass of wine each.

“So, mr. Seo I wanted to say thank you for this party… It’s always amazing to just have fun with your collegues and have a party after a year of hard work…” “I agree, yes” he smiles and sips his wine “I think you are all amazing and that you deserve all this and more…”

“Yeah, I think so too” you say, more in more courage piling inside of you with each word “and I think you deserve something too… you know, you worked so hard, you deserve some rest too…” You say.

This confused him for a second “I don’t really understand what you mean…”

“Well you know… you just need a way to get your mind off of things” you said softly, bringing your glass up to your lips and sipping the wine slowly, never breaking the eye contact with him. It took him a few seconds but it finally clicked in his head what you wanted.

“Oh…oh erm… I appreciate you a-and all but… no, sorry” he said. Did your heart break? A little bit. But you can’t say that you didn’t absolutely expect this and expect to be rejected. Who in their right mind would just come up to their boss and just ask so subtly to spend the night with them? Only you.

“Oh of course” You chuckled. “How silly of me…please, forgive me”

“It is alright” he nodded. It seemed as if he was in shock that much that he didn’t know what else to say. You really took him by surprise there…

A reason more to get absolutely wasted tonight.

___________________________________________________

Around 6 glasses of wine later, you barely got into a taxi and stumbled back inside your apartment. It was a miracle how you didn’t break your ankle wearing those heels. It was a true relief when you took them off and your tiny dress followed soon. “Fuck you, Seo Changbin” you mumbled to yourself as you fell on your bed, spreading yourself across the bed “Fuck you, can’t you see what you’re missing?”

Even before you went there, you were horny, you were horny just imagining what you’d get that night, what his cock would finally feel like. You closed your eyes as you felt over your body, sliding your hands up your thighs, over your tummy, over your tits and up to your neck, squeezing yourself, imagining it was Changbin’s hand wrapping tightly around your neck.

Your drunk mind didn’t think at all and your hand went to your phone, grabbing it and turning on the camera. The flash blinded you instantly and you turned it down towards your body. The camera followed your hand as your fingers spread across your breast nipple squeezed between your fingers. As you knead your breast, your mouth that were also visible in the frame, parted slightly and a few quiet moans escaped.

Your hand continued the path down your tummy and between your legs and the camera followed every movement. Your palm hid your privates but it was visible how much you were touching yourself and how much you loved it. You closed your eyes and turned the video recording off but your fingers kept on pressing the buttons on the phone. When you opened your eyes, your vision was so blurry that you couldn’t see the screen or what you were doing, but for some reason you kept on going.

Once you put your phone down, you closed your eyes again and your fingers started rolling your sensitive clit in circles, gently and slowly. You could feel wetness just oozing out of your pussy and your fingers would graze over it and pick some of it up and smear it over your clit, just to make it even more sensitive. You moaned. Called out his name, whispered, whined and groaned as if he could hear you, hear how desperate you were only for him.

It wasn’t until a distant “ping” woke you up from your land of dreams, just as Changbin started to kiss you in your head. You opened your eyes again and you could see your phone was switched on and there seemed to be a notification. You frowned and picked it up and your face froze in shock and your eyes widened.

“I’m on my way.” It was a text from Changbin.

“What?” You mumbled to yourself and you just didn’t believe your eyes, you re-read the text 10 times at least Did you really….really…REALLY just send a video to your boss? Or, to rephrase it, was your drunk mind that stupid that it sent the video to no one other than Changbin. You had his phone memorized ever since you joined the company, because you accompanied him to some meetings so you needed a number and it was there ever since because you didn’t have heart to delete it. Who knew one drunken night could end up doing this.

“Great, perfect, now he’s on his way here and he’s gonna fire me and he;’s gonna fire me, while I’m naked, just perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect” you mumbled to yourself as you struggled to get up and put on your panties and a random shirt you found laying next to your bed. You had to have some dignity left. You wandered around your room, trying to come up with any smart excuse but you had nothing. Nothing worked.

Sorry, wrong person? What are you a slut?

Sorry, I didn’t mean you. Yeah, right.

You didn’t notice time pass by and it has been around 15 minutes since the text and he was here. He knocked on the door and your throat went dry instantly. You held onto the wall as you walked to the front door, your sweaty hand grabbing the doorknob and twisting it open. You were met with Changbin, who was polar opposite of what you see him every day. Hair messy and cheeks puffy, wearing a tight black t-shirt, ripped jeans and leather jack on. He looked so hot.

“Changbin…I-I” you weren’t able to say anything more as Changbin was quick to grab your waist and pull you into a hot, heated kiss. At first, you were surprised but you soon melted in his hands and kissed him back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in and he made sure to slam the door shut with his foot.

His hands slid down to your half bare ass and grabbed it tightly, hoisting you up on the nearest surface which turned out to be your kitchen island. He sat you down and spread your legs enough so he could fit his hips in between, never breaking the kiss. His hands slid over to your waist and pulled your chest closer to him until your breasts were pushed against his chest.

“What a naughty girl, sending me messages like that, thinking I could just ignore you…?” he smirks, whispering against your lips in a quiet, seductive tone “Bad, bad girl…”

“I-I…” You tried to defend yourself, but he again cut you off with a kiss, not even letting you try to lie with him with stupid excuses. He knew it, he knew it was load of bullshit. Even though it was accidental, it didn’t matter now.

Your fingers tangled in his messy hair and made his head tilt to the side so you could kiss him deeper, your tongue grazing over his softly as if they were slowdancing together His hands slid under your shirt and you could feel his hold hands against your bare, hot skin which made you shiver immediately. You moaned in his mouth and hearing that made him pinch your skin lightly and tug on your lower lip with his teeth, dragging it far.

“I’m here now. What do you want from me?” He whispers.

“I want you to fuck me Changbin” it was the first time you were truly confident with your answers. Like on command, Changbin kissed you hard and started taking off his clothes, piece by piece. Leather jacket came off, leaving him in a black tight t-shirt, so thin that it was threatened to be ripped by his biceps. You rested your hand son his broad shoulders and squeezed, trying to feel every muscle. He tasted of fresh mint, meaning he was just ready to go to bed and brushed his teeth but there was still the faint taste of wine there, making you even drunker.

Soon his t-shirt came off too and your heart stopped as you saw his perfect and muscular chest. You slid your hands over his chest and bit your lip, tracing your index finger over his abs until you came to the hem of his jeans. You hooked the fingers around the bell hoop and pulled him closer, looking him straight back in the eyes.

“Now, how do you expect me to control myself when you look like that?”

“Listen pretty girl” he breaths against your lip, the nickname he gave you making you whimper “you don’t need to control yourself anymore, you can have me all for yourself as you wanted” he smirks.

You started to unbutton his jeans, still staring at his eyes “Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah… you wanted me so much, why stop now? After all, you sent me that cute little video of yourself, which by the way I’m keeping”

“As long as you don’t pass it on, be my guest” you said as you planted soft kisses over his jaw and neck, still undoing his jeans starting to push them down.

“You think I’d let anyone enjoy that body of yours? Fuck no, kitten” he chuckles.

Once his jeans were halfway down his legs, around his knees you looked down and saw the outline of his cock already poking out through the boxers. You swallowed as you saw it, hand flying to his crotch and wrapping your palm around it, starting to rub him over the thin cloth. His face softened and he tilted his head back, starting to release soft grunts and mumbles, praising you.

You continued palming him, with each rub you’d pull his boxers down little by little until the tip became visible over the hem of his underwear. It was slightly red and already started leaking the precum.

“Mmm, may I taste?” you whispered, looking hungrily at his cock. “Of course, princess.” He says and took a step back so you could slide off the counter and drop on your knees right in front of him. You pulled the boxers down fully and his cock stood in front of your face, hard and proud.

You licked your lips and grabbed the base of his cock, noticing just how tiny your hand looked around it. You took the tip in your mouth and twirled your tongue around it a few times before starting to suck on it. With each head bob, you’d take more and more in and what you couldn’t fit in your mouth you jerked.

“What a good girl…” he praised, his voice sounding so sexy and deep that it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. The praises he was giving you just made you go harder and suck him more, hollowing your cheeks around Changbin’s cock to take him deeper into your mouth.

“Mmmh” He grunts and his hands fly to your hair, making a little ponytail out of it and wrapping his whole fist around it as he starts guiding your head. His eyes are shut and he needs every single bit of self control or else he’ll cum. But the fact that you’re moaning and humming around his cock is definitely not helping.

“Stop, stop, stop” he groans and pulls you by your hair. You let his cock fall out of your mouth with a loud pop and a long string of saliva hanging between your mouth and his tip. With a finger he picked it up and grabbed your chin, starting to smear the rest of the saliva around and over your lips “What a pretty girl. Get up now…”

You obeyed and got up and he was quick to spin you around and press your tummy against the edge of the island counter. He pushed you down so you were bent over in front of him. A moment later, your underwear were gone and you were exposed to him. You heard him smack his lips as he dragged a finger between your folds, feeling how wet you are.

“So pretty…” he whispers.

“Changbin…please, hurry I can’t wait anymore” you groan in anticipation, standing up on your tippy toes so your ass can be in level with his hips for easier access. He jerked his cock a few times before sliding the tip over your clit and up to your entrance. One hand was on your asscheek and spreading it for the better view of your cunt. The very next second, his cock is pushing inside of you stretching you to your maximums.

You let your head hang low, grabbing the edge of the counter until your knuckles turn white. You let out only small grunts and moans until he is fully inside of you, balls deep. You’re surprised that you took him all in in one go, the velvety walls were inviting him, hugging his cock and making his voice strain in his throat. Once he starts thrusting you let go too and start moaning loudly. You chanted his name like mantra and pressed your face against the marble top of the counter.

His hands wrap around your hips and holds them tightly as he thrusts into you desperately from the beginning. With every thrust he would pull it out all the way and then smack it back inside until his tip touches your cervix.

“Fuck, Bin” you moan, your words almost incoherent “want more-fuck!-want harder, more, more” you pant. He smirked proudly, seeing how you can’t even form a sentence without thinking how much you love the feeling of his cock fucking you stupid.

The view is mesmerizing for him- your ass spread for him and jiggling with every thrust and your torso spread out on the counter. He moves one hand and grabs your hair, holding your head up “Look at you. I just started fucking you and you’re already fucked out...” he smirks and you just nod in response.

“Mmm, yes-finally” you whimper, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock as your orgasm started to approach. He felt it too and he hissed, his thrusts getting harder and faster, just how you needed it. “Gonna cum” you pant, hoping he won’t deny you this because you’re not sure how you’ll be able to take that.

“Go on, princess, cum for me… show me how good you are and I might fuck you again” he says.

“Mmh- Bin!” you cry out as you feel yourself cum, creaming all over his cock that still kept on thrusting mercilessly in and out of you.

“What a good girl you are, look at this” he pants, wiping the sweat off his forehead “If I knew your little cunt was this good I’d start using it a long time ago…”

“Can use me…whenever you want now…” you whisper, your voice so small and barely there. He pulls on your hair harder as his thrusts start to get sloppy and a few moments later he started cumming inside of you, shooting thick strings of cum over your walls. You let out one last, lewd moan as you feel the warmth, Changbin finally went easy on you and letting you lay back down on the counter.

You both took a few moments to rest and catch your breath. Changbin never pulled out and he leaned down, kissing over your back softly. “You did so well princess…” he smiles “But I’m nowhere done with you.”

[aesteraceae]

Lace Collar

Pairing: Minho /Jisung/Felix

Summary: Minho accidentally sends a video to Felix instead of Jisung. Shenanigans ensue.

This fic was created for the @skzseasons June event!

Tags below the cut!

Tags: heavy petplay, accidental voyeurism (and then intentional voyeurism), threesome, pre-established Minho/Jisung, petnames & degradation, face fucking, spit roasting, leashes and collars, dom/master Jisung, sub/pet Minho, sub/pet Felix, Minho is a brat, sex toys, kink negotiation, muzzles, fingering, edging, biting, subspace, light breath play

Taglist: @sunnyville36

(let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!)

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Minho might have fucked up.

Actually, scratch that, he definitely did.

He stares down at his phone, the open messaging screen with "Yongbokie" right at the top, and the little preview of the video Minho had sent him last night.

Minho wants to break something.

He wants to rip at something that will give under his strength, let him get out the nervous tension coursing through his veins, and normally he'd go to Jisung to play but now that didn't seem appropriate.

It's probably insanity that drives his next move, actually clicking on the video just to make sure it was the one Minho suspected.

The screen is dark and it's silent for a moment before Minho picks up the phone, flushed face right in the middle of the camera, fake cat ears atop his head. The camera zooms out to show his entire body, face down ass up on the bed with one of Jisung's shirts on and a tail butt plug in.

"Master..." Recording Minho moans, and Minho hurls his phone across the room.

It doesn't crack, and Minho almost wishes it would so he could claim his phone glitched out and sent it on accident.

His phone buzzes and he groans, dragging his feet as he goes to retrieve it.

Thankfully it's not from Felix telling him to fuck off, instead it's just a reminder from their manager about the performance they had this morning.

Great.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

What to do when your friend sends you a sext video

What to do when you maybe get turned on by your friend sending you a sex video

Petplay

Tail butt plugs

Fake cat ears

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Felix paces around his room, pointedly avoiding his phone on the bed. It wasn't doing much of course, because his brain had done nothing but replay that video in his brain since he saw it this morning, and it only got worse when he saw Minho at the performance today.

This was weird, right?

He should be upset. Minho, his best friend, sent him a video of him moaning and pretending to be a cat, fucking himself with a butt plug until he cums. That should be weird!

Felix wasn't attracted to Minho, was he? They were just friends, close friends sure but friends nonetheless. And even if somehow Felix did have a crush on him, there was no way it was reciprocated.

The video wasn't meant for him.

Why does that make him more upset than the video itself?

Felix collapses on the floor and pushes his head between his knees. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

"Felix? Can you come to my room please?"

Felix snaps his head up, scrambling to look like he wasn't halfway to a panic attack.

"Oh, yeah! Just give me one second, I'll be right over!"

His voice is too cheery, but Jisung doesn't call him on it. Felix listens to his footsteps retreat as he throws on actual clothes and tries to fix his hair.

Jisung's door is closed when Felix finally gets there, so he knocks. Three short taps, and Felix almost wants to run away.

Minho opens the door, looking disgruntled, and Felix takes a step back.

"Come in, Felix!"

Jisung yells, and Felix can see him lounging back on the bed, the picture of calm. He even looks a little amused, which might be worse than angry.

Minho moves out of the way and sits on the floor by the bed, refusing to look Felix in the eye.

"Okay. First of all, I want both of you to relax, Jesus Christ."

There's laughter in Jisung's voice, and it strangely does make some of the tension leave Felix's shoulders.

"Good. Min, tell him what's up."

Minho jumps a little, and his eyes flicker from Jisung's face to Felix's for a second, before he rests his gaze on his hands.

"I... I messed up. I sent you that video by accident, I meant to send it to Jisung."

Oh.

"Chan owes me dinner."

Jisung laughs, a soft, giggling thing, and Felix sits down on the floor next to Minho.

"Yeah. We've been doing this for a couple of months now, but the videos were new. I guess we still need to troubleshoot."

"I'm sorry. I watched it, I know I shouldn't have but I just- I was curious and then I couldn't..."

Felix glances up at Minho and jumps, startled by the hunger in his gaze. After watching the video, Felix could recognize need in Minho's eyes from a mile away.

"Fuck, that's hot."

Jisung mumbles, and Felix looks up to see him staring at the both of them, something predatory in his smile.

"Who did you imagine being, Lix?"

Felix blinks at Jisung's question, confused, before the pieces slot together.

He can't answer. He can't. How is he supposed to explain to them that no, he didn't fantasize about dominating Minho, instead he imagined being right next to him, a matching pair of ears atop his head. He imagined them fucking each other, begging to cum, begging to make each other cum, so needy but unwilling to disobey—

"No one. I... I didn't want to be in Minho's place, I..."

Jisung laughs, almost a purr as he stands up, suddenly towering over them both.

"Oh, I see. You wanted to be there with him, huh? I bet you thought about helping him fuck himself to make a good show for me, yeah?"

The whimper that leaves Felix's mouth is mortifying, but he can't help it when Jisung looks like this.

"Be nice to him, Jisung, he's embarrassed."

Minho's voice is soft, something cool to cling to while he feels like his insides are being burned alive by Jisung's stare.

"I'm just teasing, don't worry."

He kneels down to their level now, eyes suddenly serious.

"Felix, what do you want this to be? I don't want you to be uncomfortable, you can leave if you want to."

Felix is shaking his head before Jisung's finished talking, reaching out to hold his hand. Minho takes the other one, and Felix takes some of their confidence for himself.

"I want to stay. I want to... I want that. I don't want to impose or anything, I swear, but- that video was so hot, and I keep thinking about it and I want that."

Jisung smiles, dark and intense, and lets go of Felix's hand to place it on his head. He pets him like a tiny kitten, gentle and slow, like Felix might run from him at any second, and something inside of him breaks.

"You're not an imposition, little one. In fact, my kitten over here has been fretting over how to invite you to play for ages, now."

Minho swats Jisung's side, cheeks pink, and Felix can only smile at him because Jisung's still petting him and his brain doesn't really want to cooperate at the moment.

"I didn't mean to send the video, if that's what you're thinking. I planned to bring it up in a way that didn't make me look like a pervert."

Minho grumbles, refusing to look at either of them, and Felix crawls over to him.

"I didn't think you were a pervert. I thought you were hot. I wanted to be there, helping you."

Felix isn't sure why he says it, or how he says it, so calm, but the words feel natural on his tongue.

Minho catches his eye and before Felix can even blink his back is on the ground, Minho's lips hard against his. It takes Felix a second to catch up but once he does he's kissing back with fervor, whining when Minho pulls away for a second to bite his lip hard enough to bruise.

Felix is about to pull him back in when Minho flies off of him, shoved to the side by Jisung's boot.

"Bad kitty," Jisung says, voice laced with knives. "Did I say you could touch him?"

Felix blinks up at Minho, startled and a little concerned, but Minho just seems annoyed.

"What, like you didn't want to do the same thing?"

Bad idea.

Felix's brain flashes warning bells at that response, his natural urge to avoid conflict screaming at him to diffuse the situation. But... Minho didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed... excited to push Jisung's buttons.

Oh.

Felix had read about brats before, but he quickly wrote it off as something that wasn't at all for him. He couldn't understand the logic behind it, and thinking about it usually just ended up with him feeling useless.

But watching it...

"I wanted to discuss what this session would look like. He's new. You look like a desperate cat in heat, pouncing on him like that."

Felix looks at Minho, eyes wide, eager to see what he responds with.

"He liked it. Didn't you?"

Felix jumps, stammering for a moment before he remembers how words work.

What was he supposed to say? He did like it, a lot, but saying so would be like picking a side, right?

He didn't want to be bad, but he wanted Minho to kiss him again, wanted Minho to do so much more than just kiss him.

He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a distressed whine, and Jisung pulls his head against his leg, petting him again.

"Oh, kitten," Jisung starts, and Felix almost whines again at the petname. "I'm sorry. You see, my kitten has a bit of a rebellious streak. No matter how hard I try to train him he just does things like that."

Felix glances at Minho, still pouting, and tries to give him an apologetic look.

"It's okay if you liked it, honey. And I promise you'll like a lot more that happens. Try not to feed into his traps, okay? He's got a very smooth tongue."

"Okay." Felix whispers, suddenly feeling like a bowl of jello under Jisung's hands.

"Alright, beautiful. I'd like to discuss some things now, if that's okay?"

"Mhm."

"Good. You've probably noticed that my dynamic with Minho is a bit... Aggressive."

Minho scoffs and starts to crawl towards them again, settling against Jisung's other leg.

"I have a feeling you're not interested in something like that, though, are you?"

Felix shakes his head, nuzzling his face into Jisung's leg. He's wearing soft sweatpants, and the fuzzy fabric feels nice against his cheek.

"No. I liked watching it though, I think."

"Oh? That works out well, then. Still, I'll cool it a little since this is our first time."

"Okay."

"Minho, tell him what safe words we use while I set up, won't you?"

Jisung stands, making sure to guide Felix's face away from his leg before he moves, but doesn't offer Minho the same courtesy. He glares at him for a second before huffing and turning back to Felix.

His eyes are considerably softer when he looks at Felix, and it's difficult to hold his gaze.

"Okay, so we use stoplight safe words. Green to keep going, yellow to slow down, and red to stop. It's simple so you remember it."

"Oh- Um, I know. I've... Researched."

Well, maybe researched isn't the correct word. Obsessed probably describes it better, late nights at his laptop with hundreds of tabs open, cross-referencing and following down rabbit holes.

BDSM caught his attention and didn't let go, and finding 'petplay' only made it worse. He'd be willing to bet he knew more about it than Jisung and Minho combined.

"Oh. Well, that makes this easier. How much do you know about petplay?"

Felix is sure that Minho doesn't want a textbook explanation, so instead he just smiles and says, "A lot. I want... I want to do it."

Minho gives him a strange look, then smiles, slow and teasing. "Jisung-ah, he's ready."

Jisung comes back over to them, petting Felix's head as he moves past to put a box on the bed.

"Lixie, come pick out a collar. Minho, kneel in the center of the room, please. Be quiet, if you know what's good for you."

Felix looks at the box, letting Jisung guide him onto the bed.

It's full of sex toys, some in cases and some out, and just thinking of all their uses makes Felix shudder.

Jisung pulls out a bag, pushing the box away to place it between them. He opens it, pulling out 6 square cases.

They're all wood, shiny and dark, and Felix can tell he spent a pretty penny on them.

He sets out opening them all, revealing gorgeous collars on soft white satin, and Felix is immediately drawn to a pink one, delicate and lacy.

He picks it up, running his fingers over the material, heart beating in his ears.

The main collar is made of thick leather, soft to the touch, even on the edges. It's pink, like spring flowers in a meadow, and there's a silver ring on the front.

What Felix is really interested in, though, is the lace. It's detailed, fanning out around the top and bottom of the collar with a pretty scalloped edge.

Felix looks up at Jisung, hopeful, and Jisung smiles at him.

Felix almost cries when Jisung puts it on him, the leather feeling perfect around his neck, so soft and tight.

It forces him to take deeper breaths, and it's tall enough that it keeps his neck straight.

"Do you like it, kitten?"

"Yes. I love it."

"Good. Go kneel right in front of Minho for me, okay kitten?"

"Yes."

"Call me master."

Felix swallows hard, thrilling at the feeling of his Adam's apple against the leather.

"Yes, master."

He crawls, rather than walks over to Minho, already slipping into subspace. Minho's head is bowed, so all Felix can see is his hair. He can't resist, he leans forward to kiss him. Minho doesn't move, but Felix hears him gasp before there's a hand in his hair, pulling him back. It doesn't hurt, but it's definitely not gentle.

"A few ground rules, kitten."

Jisung guides his head down, so he's staring down at his thighs.

"Your only job is to do what I say, like an obedient little kitten. You don't do anything that I don't explicitly tell you to, do you understand?"

Felix nods, cheeks burning with embarrassment. They'd just started and he'd already messed up.

"Yes, master."

"Good boy. I know you can be good for me."

Jisung steps away, but Felix doesn't dare crane his neck to see where he's going. Instead he looks at Minho, and works to match their breathing together for something to focus on.

Minho laughs when he notices, lifting his head just a bit to smile at him.

"Minho, strip Felix down, please. Keep your hands to yourself."

Minho looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"You heard what I said. Undress him, and don't use your hands."

"Are you insane? How am I supposed to do that?"

Jisung clicks his tongue, and in a split second Felix is on his back again, one of Jisung's hands on his chest and the other in Minho's hair.

"Use your mouth. Maybe you are just a stupid cat, I can't believe I have to show you something so simple."

His voice is harsh and mean and Felix cringes slightly, not a Jisung but at Minho.

Because instead of obeying, of apologizing, Minho bares his teeth at Jisung and pulls against the hand in his hair, not to get away but to challenge Jisung.

"Minho-" Felix barely gets the word out before Minho's on his back, Jisung towering over him with a downright venomous look in his eyes.

"I'm not sure what your fucking problem is," Jisung starts, voice dark and annoyed, but not necessarily angry. "but it's not an excuse to act like you've never been trained. We have a guest. Felix is the center of this session, not you. It's in your best interest to be on your best behavior for the rest of this session, do you understand me?"

Minho glares, and Felix is sure he's going to back down, but Minho spits in Jisung's face.

Felix gasps, watching Jisung for a reaction, nervous to even breathe and attract his ire.

Jisung stands up, grabs a towel off the bed and wipes his face, then turns to Felix.

"Kitten, come sit on the bed, please."

Felix looks at Minho, still on the floor, obviously startled by Jisung's reaction.

"Master..."

Felix bites his lip, looking between them hesitantly. Something was about to happen, and Felix didn't know what to do with the mixture of anticipation and anxiety in his chest.

"It's okay, little one. Come sit, come here baby."

His voice is soft and coaxing, like he's actually talking to a cat, and it's enough to draw a whine from Felix's mouth as he crawls over.

"That's a good boy, there you go. Lie on your stomach for me."

Felix obeys, letting Jisung help him onto the bed and settle into position. He takes off his pants and piles a few pillows under his hips and Felix has to focus very hard not to rut against them, skin prickling with heat.

"Minho." It's not a question, barely even an acknowledgment, "Come here. If you act up now, I'm going to tie you up and force you to watch me fuck Felix."

Minho crawls over to the bed, and Jisung drags him onto it by the hair.

"Sit against the headboard and open yourself up while I prep Felix."

Jisung hands Minho a bottle of lube and Minho obeys silently, obviously annoyed that his defiance didn't get much of a reaction.

Minho's position gives Felix a perfect view of him while he stretches himself out, thighs tensing as he slides in one finger, and then another. Felix is so preoccupied with Minho's soft moans that he jumps away from Jisung's cold fingers against his rim, slick lube sending shivers down his spine.

"Shh, easy, easy. Just relax."

Felix whines while Jisung grips his waist, settling him back against the pillows.

Jisung's fingers are slender and tactful, and soon Felix can't even see straight enough to watch Minho.

He's efficient and fast, but Felix still feels his fingers press against his prostate on every stroke.

He doesn't even realize he's babbling nonsense until Minho laughs at him, reaching out to brush his hair, and Felix rises to meet him, straining for something, anything, but he doesn't want to move away from Jisung's fingers and he's going to go insane if he doesn't get Minho's lips on his right now.

"Please, please master, let me kiss him, please!" Jisung hums, considering, fingers unrelenting in their assault on Felix's insides.

"Minnie, give our boy what he wants, yeah? He's earned it."

"Fuck, finally-"

Minho ducks down and kisses Felix with more intensity than he could even conceive, all tongue and teeth and heat.

"Please, please, please-"

Felix isn't even sure what he's begging for at this point, brain too focused on his skin, his mouth, his ass, his tongue.

Minho moans against his lips and he realizes that he's still fucking himself, hips working against what has to be an entire fist by now.

"I'm gonna cum!"

Felix warns, brain going into overdrive at the mere image of Minho fisting himself, at the feeling of his lips and teeth against his own.

"No." Jisung pulls his fingers out, and Felix considers screaming in anguish for a moment but decides against it, settling for a long whine.

Minho stops kissing him and says something Felix can't hear, and then he's moving behind him, taking Jisung's place.

His hands are warm and calloused against his hips and he just about falls apart when he feels Minho's cock against his rim, just the slightest brush but it's there, and Felix finally puts it together.

He looks behind him and moans, watching Jisung hold Minho by the hair as he lines himself up, his other hand guiding Minho's hips forward to press inside of him.

Felix sobs, shoving his head back against the sheets as Minho fully pushes inside, letting out soft moans as he waits to adjust.

"Oh my god..." Felix whines, because he can't do much else when he feels Minho press in deeper, when he hears Minho and Jisung moan in unison. He looks behind him to see why and almost cums on the spot at the sight.

Jisung is fucking Minho, one hand in his hair and the other on the bed, caging them both in as he thrusts forward, starting a chain reaction that makes Felix's insides turn into lava.

Minho sobs, arms shaking by Felix's head, and on pure instinct he leans over to kiss him, once again desperate for contact. Minho does him one better, though, because he leans down to press their lips together. It's less lips and more teeth and tongue, animalistic, and it only gets more intense as Jisung picks up the pace.

Minho's barely even moving now, just letting Jisung's thrusts push them both closer to the edge.

"Look at you two, god. You just look so much better with your mouths busy moaning like fucked out little kittens."

Jisung leans forward and grabs a handful of Felix's hair, pulling him up to lock their lips together, gentle compared to the unrelenting pace of his hips.

"Please master, please-"

"No. Don't cum yet, little one, I'm not done with you."

Felix whimpers, shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm as Jisung releases his hair, pulling back to speed up, the sound of skin slapping skin multiplied tenfold now.

Some part of Felix wants to shout, wants to ask Jisung just how he expects him not to cum when he's moving like that, when Minho's moaning into his ear.

Minho whines and moves, sinking his teeth into Felix's neck, and something inside of Felix's stomach snaps.

He digs his nails into the sheets and rips, a yowl tearing its way out of him as he cums against the bed.

Jisung's heat leaves, but Minho keeps thrusting, stilted and desperate, but he only gets in a few more before Jisung pulls him back by the hair, leaving Felix empty and cold, still trembling with aftershocks.

"Hm, how disappointing. And here I thought you were going to be easy to train."

Jisung clicks his tongue, hooking a finger into the loop on Felix's collar, dragging him down to the floor.

"Fine, since you were a bad kitty and couldn't wait to please me, I'll just use you like a toy instead."

Embarrassed tears well up in Felix's eyes but he doesn't let them fall, sniffling to hold back an apology. Jisung hadn't told him to speak, so he wouldn't.

He reaches into the box and pulls out a pink leash, clipping it onto the ring of Felix's collar.

"And you," Jisung grabs Minho's jaw, tilting his head side to side as if he's inspecting it. "He wouldn't have cum so easily if you hadn't been bad and bitten him. So, until you can learn how to keep your teeth to yourself, I'm muzzling you."

He pulls out a black muzzle, made of thick caged plastic. Minho groans as Jisung puts it on him, tugging against his grip to no avail.

Felix can't help staring at him once it's on, fascinated with how dangerous it made him look.

His dick makes a valiant effort to get hard again, twitching against his stomach, and Minho just laughs at him.

Jisung snaps to get his attention and Felix looks back at him, eyes wide and ready for instruction.

"I'm going to fuck your face while Minho fucks you. You can cum if you want, but Minho isn't going to stop until I tell him to."

Felix moves forward, eager to do what's asked of him, but Jisung drags him back by the leash and Felix almost cums again.

"Sorry." He says, heart beating like hummingbird wings while Jisung just laughs down at him.

"Eager little kitten. So excited to be filled from both sides, aren't you? I bet this isn't even a punishment for you."

When he puts it like that, no, it doesn't feel like a punishment at all. Of course, Felix isn't going to say that.

Instead he just whimpers, gasping when Minho pulls his hips up so he's on his knees. His hole is still slicked, so he doesn't waste any time pushing inside. He doesn't move, likely waiting for Jisung's permission, and Felix almost laughs at how strange Minho was with his brattiness. Sometimes he'd listen completely, and other times he'd act like Jisung was nothing more than a fly on the wall. It was an interesting dynamic to be in the middle of, and Felix had to admit that it made him curious.

"Minnie, match your thrusts with mine, okay?"

And Jisung was even weirder, constantly switching between sweet and gentle to dangerous and mean, seemingly at the drop of a hat. Felix both feared and admired that duality, though which one he felt definitely depended on who that anger was directed at.

Jisung grabs his hair and guides his dick into Felix's mouth, still wet with lube and Minho, and the thought of tasting them both at the same time made Felix moan. Minho pulls out of him and sinks back in, perfectly in sync with the way Jisung guides his mouth down, down, down until Felix's nose is pressed snugly against his pubic hair and Minho's hips are pressed snugly against his ass.

Felix feels so full.

He hadn't been at all prepared for how overwhelming this would be, how quickly the feeling would get to him. He usually can't cum more than once, but his dick was already rock hard again.

"Tap my leg twice when you need to come up." Jisung says, voice low, and then he tightens his grip on Felix's hair and pulls him up, letting him breathe for just a split second before he's right back where he started, full.

The dual stimulation sends Felix's brain reeling, digging his nails into Jisung's thighs as he tries not to choke on his moans.

Jisung sets a ruthless pace and Minho matches it perfectly, and within minutes Felix is shaking apart, cum spilling on the wooden floors. Jisung doesn't stop, even as he screams around his cock, and Felix thinks it's a little worrying that he loves it. His head is fuzzy from the pleasure and lack of oxygen, skin practically vibrating with how hard he's shaking, and honestly, Felix would prefer this to any sort of heaven he could think up.

He can hear Minho and Jisung talking above him, laughter in their words, but he's too preoccupied to listen, too busy sucking down Jisung's cock and clamping down on Minho's.

"I wonder if I could make him cum again." Minho muses, right next to Felix's ear, the muzzle pressing harshly against his cheek.

"Could you last that long?"

Jisung says, taunting, but his voice is shaking and it trails off into a groan.

"Could you?"

Minho's head is pulled away from Felix's, and he lets their words fade out again as his body threatens to cum a third time.

He feels like his body is both numb and a live wire, too sensitive yet somehow not enough, and he sobs around Jisung's dick, loud wails only slightly muffled by his fast pace.

Jisung pulls him up and holds him there this time, watching him sob for a moment before he lets Felix's head rest on his thigh. Felix still leans over to kiss and suck the side of his dick, mouth suddenly feeling too empty without the weight, but Jisung keeps him from doing much else. Minho stops too, and Felix can feel how hard he's shaking.

"Color?"

Jisung asks, soft, and Felix takes a second to check in with himself.

He didn't feel bad anywhere, even if his jaw was quite sore it was a comfortable ache, and now that he wasn't so overcome with pleasure his body had stopped freaking out.

The only negative thing he can see is that he feels empty now, and that could easily be solved.

"Green," He says, voice scratchy, "Green. Please, wanna keep going."

Jisung nods and snaps his fingers, and Felix starts crying again when Minho pushes back inside him, mouth open and eager as Jisung guides him back down.

His pace is slower this time but less calculated, Felix can feel his hips stuttering, and his dick twitches in his mouth every so often. Jisung's close, and the moment Felix realizes this he's doubling his efforts tenfold, sucking as hard as he can at the tip and licking around the base.

Minho seems to have abandoned the mirroring instruction, hips drilling into him with reckless abandon, whimpering and shaking, nails scratching red lines into his back.

Jisung seems too preoccupied to correct him, and Felix definitely isn't going to, not when he's on the edge of cumming again.

"I'm gonna cum!" Jisung warns, grabbing Felix's shoulder as support as he cums, pressing him down to shoot it directly down his throat. Felix does his best to swallow, only choking a little bit, and Jisung lets him up right after, swiping some of the cum off of his lips.

Minho slows, whining, and Felix remembers that he hasn't cum once this entire time.

He presses his hips back against him, taking full advantage of the mobility in his hips. He'd always been flexible, and dancing helped a lot, so it was nice to put it to good use.

"Hah, look at you. Two kittens in heat, fucking each other like you can't think of anything else."

Jisung drags Minho closer for a kiss and Felix whines, looking up to watch their tongues curl around each other in a mess of saliva. Some of it falls on his shoulder and he whines, pushing back harder against Minho.

"Go on, then. Fuck him like you mean it. Be a good boy."

And Minho does.

Felix chokes on a scream, startled by the sudden shift in pace. Minho fucks with his hips, faster than Felix ever even thought possible, hips snapping so hard Felix is sure he's going to bruise later.

"Oh my god- Minho!" Felix screams, because it's all he can think of as his third orgasm turns his brain into liquid, babbling and sobbing as Minho holds his hips still and cums inside of him, a loud whine escaping as he does so.

Felix isn't completely sure what happens next.

He floats between sleep and wakefulness, groaning slightly when Jisung moves him onto the bed and moaning a little when something warm and damp runs over his skin.

His eyes open for a moment to see Minho, already asleep with a smile on his face.

Jisung slides in behind Felix, cocooning him in warmth, and he snuggles into them, letting himself fall asleep to Jisung's voice, soft and loving, whispering "My good boys."

[straywrds]

american whiskey

❣ written for the june event on @skzseasons! ❣ ♡ masterlist ♡

—chan x reader (f) —word count: 12.6k & i am deeply sorry about it (ao3) —genre: non-idol au, roommates au, explicit smut with plot (18+ minors dni) —warnings: multiple povs, drinking, mutual pining, dating apps/nudes, texting, masturbation (m), angst i guess, fluff if you squint, a little bit drunken but consensual & protected sex, just two fools fooling around really, sorry there might be mistakes as this isn't really beta/proof read —companion music: the weeknd - what you need

If you think that him seeing your nudes ruined his night… Then, truly, Chan is deep, deep into the friendzone and there is nothing he can do about it. 

a/n: hello my beloveds <3 first and foremost, i wanted to thank the lovely people at @skzseasons for hosting this event! this is my first time ever participating in an event of the sort and i am. a little bit nervous but excited! i hope this is alright and i hope you guys enjoy this story at least a little. i wanted to say a special thank you to all of the people who have followed me in the past few weeks. as a newcomer in this fandom, i am overwhelmed and so humbled. thank you guys, and especially to those who have interacted with me/my works! you are the best. your likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated! i hope you all have a wonderful day ♡

The price to pay for a not totally shitty place to live near your workplace is, well… a considerable amount of money. But also, roommates.

You do like them. The roommates. You found them by accident through mutual friends—they had just rented a very spacious housing unit and were looking into renting the unoccupied bedroom in it to help pay their lease. You were looking for a place to live that didn’t require a lengthy commute to your new job and didn’t cost your entire salary.

Enter this arrangement, whatever the hell it is. You do like your roommates, but, by God, they can be so loud. 

Tonight is yet another Friday night where you came back home a little earlier than usual. Your team from work always goes out for drinks on Fridays, but two of the members are currently pregnant which gets in the way of late-night drinking with the full team. Which gives everyone a good excuse to head home not too late. Which is absolutely fine by you—if you’re going to drink on a Friday night, you’d rather it be in the much more comfortable setting of your own home.

It’s about 8:30 when you get home. By the various pairs of shoes you notice by the door, you guess that only two out of three of the roommates are here presently. You leave your own shoes over there as well and make your way into the apartment, discarding various items on the way. Your light jacket goes into a closet, your purse on a small coffee table in the living room and your bra is thrown into your bedroom, landing somewhere between your desk and your bed. You will pick it up later. 

You pass the small corner of the apartment that your roommates use as their home office. Three computers are cramped on narrow desks, right next to the bathroom. 

“Hey,” you tell Jisung and Changbin. “You guys worked from home all day?”

“Nah, just had to review some stuff,” Changbin explains, flashing a smile at you, looking away from his monitor for no more than a second. “A lot of stuff coming up next week.”

“There’s leftover rice in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Jisung adds. He, on the other hand, turns away from his desktop computer and swirls his chair in your direction. “We bought beer, too.” 

You can tell that Jisung notices that you are currently not wearing a bra under your blouse. He’s gracious about it, they always are, the three of them, but they always notice that stuff. 

You weren’t sure about living with men, but the mutual friend assured you they were good guys. Still… just like anyone, you like to feel free and comfortable at your place, and this is what you were most unsure about at first. But so far, absolutely nothing blatantly inappropriate has happened, and you’ve even grown closer to the three of them. They’re a likable trio, and you consider them more than roommates. More than acquaintances, even. 

A year and a half into this living arrangement, they’re your friends.

And hell, for what it’s worth, you’re not blind either. They’re all good looking guys, they work out, take care of their image… You see all of it, but as responsible adults, both parties are perfectly able to cohabit together. 

So Jisung notices that you’re not wearing a bra, but he casually leans back into his chair and crosses his arms over his chest with a smile on his face. 

“Chan isn’t home, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Jisung says, his gaze finally trailing back up to somewhere roughly above your neck. “The boss wanted to talk with him.”

You gasp, putting a hand over your mouth in surprise. “Oh god, is it really happening then?” you ask, your heart jumping in your chest at the revelation. “Is he going to get that big promotion?”

“I think so,” Changbin replies, also turning away from his screen now. “Either that or he gets fired.” 

“He can’t get fired,” you point out. “He’s too good at his job for that.” 

“I’m better than him,” Changbin insists. 

Jisung gives him a not-so-gentle slap behind the head. Bickering ensues. Noisy bickering, as usual. Again—you like your roommates. But they can be so loud.

You’re not particularly hungry as you’ve had food with the drinks earlier, so you announce that you’ll shower now and relax later, hoping that the other two will also relax at some point in the evening, allowing you a few hours of, well, calmness. It all depends on what they decide to do… if they choose to play video games, then you’ll hear them shout and complain until 2 or 3 AM. 

At least they’re funny. And they always order more food and drinks than they need, so you get plenty of leftovers. The eye candy is just a bonus… 

The shower helps relax you a little. You take your time washing your body and cleansing your hair, even allowing yourself a few special skin treatments along the way. By the time you stroll out of the bathroom in the blue silk bathrobe your sister gave you on your last birthday, the sky has effectively gone dark. You can hear conversations in the kitchen while you brush your damp hair, so you make a quick job of finishing that and exit the bathroom.

“Chan!” you cry out, finding him around the kitchen island with Changbin and Jisung. He has a wide smile on his face, and the three of them are holding shot glasses. You notice a bottle of amber liquid resting on the island, too. All of this can only mean one thing. “You got it, then?” 

“I sure did!” Chan pushes a glass towards you and fills it with the liquid. As you get closer, you notice on the bottle that it is imported American whiskey. “I was even given this whiskey!” 

“Fucking ass kisser” Changbin utters dryly, but his smile is revealing his true feelings. 

“Oh my god, Chan, congrats.” He opens up one arm and you give him a quick hug, wrapping one arm around his waist for a few seconds before pulling away to taste the whiskey. It burns your tongue, then your throat, then your eyes. But the flavor is complex and unique. “You deserve this!” 

“Thank you.” You notice Chan’s flushed cheeks, and wonder how many shots he’s had already—but even if it were 5 or 10 shots, it doesn’t matter tonight. He should celebrate. He works harder than anyone you know and is so dedicated to his job that he often forgets himself. “Thank you for putting up with me when I’m so stressed about work. All of you.” 

“Ah, shut up, let’s not be too emotional, let’s just drink,” Jisung says to ease the sudden increase in emotion in his friend. “Felix is coming over later, maybe more people too. Should be here soon. We’re gonna play the new game expansion.” This, he mentions to you, as a polite warning that you will not be getting the calm evening you were hoping for. But that’s alright—Chan deserves a fun night.

The guys have been particularly enjoying a newly released video game and while you liked it too, you definitely did not like it as much as they did. They had been expectantly waiting for the new expansion to drop and you feel like they did deserve some unrestrained fun, and to be as childish as they wanted. All of them often worked late hours and skipped sleep to have a good job performance, after all.

But Chan especially. So you actually take the bottle of liquor and pour him a generous shot, sliding it towards him, before pouring some for each of you as well.

“To Chan and his success,” you say, raising your glass. 

Changbin and Jisung echo you, and the four of you down the shots before slamming your glasses on the countertop. Chan’s ears are bright red, and it’s quite endearing. He’s not used to being the one being praised. It’s always him showing appreciation to others and much less often him getting the attention. 

“Have fun, you guys,” you say with a smile. “Thank you for sharing your celebratory liquor with me,” you add to Chan, dipping your head politely, “it was delicious.” 

You make your way towards the hallway to get to your room—you’ll at least change into clothes, especially if they have people coming over. 

“You’re welcome to join us,” Chan calls from the kitchen after you’ve disappeared. You smile to yourself, thinking of the genuine warmth in Chan’s voice when he speaks to you—or to anyone, really. You don’t know many people who are as kind and as caring as he is. So, it makes sense that he wouldn’t want you to feel excluded. “If you want, of course.”

“Thanks, Channie, I’ll come and say hi later!” you reply from the hallway and enter your room before closing the door behind you.

Tonight isn’t so different from other Friday nights for you—you put on your noise-canceling earphones and browse the internet to unwind a little while deciding on which drama you’d like to see next. You always select carefully, as you don’t like to waste two or three episodes deciding if you like the show at all. 

The little party outside of your room, however, is quite inviting. You usually try not to mingle too much, so as not to bother your friends. After all, they work together for the same company, and while you celebrate Chan’s success, you’re simply not a part of their team, and you know to respect this.

You think of Chan’s clear invitation, though. How he said you were welcome to join them. 

You also think of the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body when you hugged him earlier. 

Again. You are not blind. You have eyes to see and these eyes see that you live with three very good looking dudes who work with other very good looking dudes. But Chan is a little bit more your type than the others. Not that you have a type and not that you’ve ever considered Chan to be anything but your roommate and friend. 

But. Chan is a little bit more your type than the others. 

You close your eyes and sigh. Your initial plan when moving in was to stay here no more than one year, giving you enough time to acclimate to your new job and neighborhood while seeking an apartment for yourself.

But the guys always order more food and more drinks than they need. But the guys always have excellent music playing in the background. But the guys always respect you and your space. 

But Chan is a little bit more your type than the others. 

This is the whiskey whispering things to your mind and you know it. The whiskey and the beers you had when you were out earlier, too. That, and the very long week you’ve just had at work—everything is working together to distort your thoughts. 

This isn’t the first time you think about those things. A few weeks ago, you came back home after lunch, when the building your office is located in had to be closed because of an electrical issue. You didn’t think anyone would be home, honestly. But if someone had to be home on a weekday afternoon, you wouldn’t have expected it to be Chan out of all people.

But Chan was home that day and he didn’t hear you get in, you figure. You hope he didn’t. You hope he doesn’t know what you saw—the door of his bedroom wasn’t completely closed but the sounds that came out of it simply couldn’t be mistaken. He had been watching porn and apparently furiously jerking himself off to it. 

You had never really thought of him that way before. Like. Sexually. You had simply noticed that he was handsome, selfless, and sweet. And, frankly, you didn’t really think of him that way today. Sexually. It was just the whiskey and the fact that Chan works out and smells nice. That was all. Nothing else. 

Well. That, and maybe a little bit the fact that you’re lonely and very busy with work. Too busy to seek out and date, even casually. 

And Chan is a little bit more your type than the others.

There are a few things you normally do on a night like this. You either get drunk enough that you’ll fall asleep within an hour, you either take out your favorite sex toy and get off a couple of times until you feel better, or you open the dating app you’ve been using for a few months and see if any of this can take some of the edge off. 

You take out the earbuds to get a better sense of what’s going on in the living room. It sounds like the big video game celebration is still going, and like there’s a little bit of a ruckus out there—probably the same group of 8 that usually crowds the living room, a few Friday nights once in a while. Maybe you could sneak your way out of your room and go grab a beer in the fridge… 

So you choose to do that, taking your phone with you after you’ve opened the dating app. You don’t use it for dating. You use it for fucking, like everybody else. It’s not that successful and literally, all of the hook ups you’ve had from it so far were rather disappointing. 

But tonight you just need a distraction. 

So you swipe left and right on your way to the kitchen. It’s easy to go unnoticed because the living room isn’t connected to it, but you can only smile when you hear the boys having their fun. ‘Felix how could you kill me! I thought we formed an alliance!’ ‘Oh my god Jisung, did you just fucking kill Seungmin?’ ‘CHANGBIN YOU’RE SHOOTING AT ME, YOU NEED TO SHOOT THE OTHER TEAM!’ 

The whiskey is still on the kitchen island. You hesitate but ultimately choose to pour yourself a glass, as it had been offered to you earlier anyway. You don’t even wait until you’re back in your room to drink it, hasty of experiencing that unique flavor again. Except that you almost choke on it when, after a few random swipes, the dating app presents you with the profile of someone you know very well. 

In his profile photo, Chan is standing in a corner of his office at work, smiling wide and making a funny pose. You know this picture was taken by Changbin a few weeks ago, because Chan himself showed it to you on his phone, explaining the backstory that came with it.

More whiskey follows the one you’ve already had. This is expensive imported stuff and you should pace yourself. 

It feels rude to swipe left on Chan, so you decide not to do it and swipe right instead. To your surprise, you’re notified of a match. Meaning he has swiped right on you before… 

But just to be polite, right? 

You pour more whiskey into your glass and quickly return to your room, afraid that someone—Chan especially—would leave the living room and see you sneaking around for liquor.

You continue browsing the app, trying very hard not to think about the match with your friend. It’s almost working—or maybe the whiskey is working, rather—until you get a message. From him. On the dating app. When he could very well text your phone number, as he always does.

Chan: lol  Chan: is that what you’re doing in your room rn lol come hang out 

You click your tongue, chasing the whiskey with more whiskey. You ignore the message for a few minutes, deciding to look at other matches you got. One other guy has already messaged you to compliment the shape of your tits on your profile photo, so you engage in conversation with him. You would never do this if you were sober.

But you’re not sober.

So you click on the conversation with Chan. 

you: aren’t you playing games with your friends?  you: i took more whiskey btw. thanks! 

He responds almost immediately. 

Chan: they’re all better than me. i keep dying so i’m letting the kids play while i watch Chan: also you can have as much whiskey as you want :) 

Texting one of them while living in the same apartment instead of getting up and telling them directly something isn’t a new concept. In fact, it’s almost a daily occurrence for the four of you. You regularly send voice messages to Jisung to berate him when he doesn’t clean up after himself in the kitchen, or Changbin likes to facetime at least one person when he finds a bug in a corner, as he feels lonely when he has to get rid of them on his own. The apartment even has his group chat and it’s quite active. 

You really, really like your roommates. They’re your friends. 

But Chan is a bit more your type than the others.

you: ok thanks! don’t let them be too mean to you Chan: :p come say hi later!  you: sure! 

You leave the conversation there because the other chat you’re having with the guy who likes your tits is getting a little heated and it makes you feel things. ‘fuck I bet you’d let me come on your tits’

He is wrong. There is no way in the world you would let him do that. But you’re bored, and you can’t get the smell of Chan’s cologne out of your mind, so you reply ‘wanna see?’ 

You finish the whiskey in one go after sending that risky text. You feel warm under your skin and pull your tank top just above your bare tits, preparing to take the picture—you asked him if he wanted to see, but you know what the answer will be. They always want to see. So you angle yourself, arch your back, and take a few nudes—you already have a small collection of them on your phone, but you like to update them once in a while. 

You make a quick job of sending your two best pictures as you don’t particularly like doing such things. The act of sending the pictures itself is still strange and foreign to you, despite it being common practice in people in your age range. 

For what it’s worth, you know you’re not going to go out tonight and meet this guy. You’re certainly not going to let him come on your tits… You’re just trying to distract yourself from the guy you really can’t think of—

A notification pops up on your screen.

Chan: uh. did you mean to send these to me?

You look at your phone in disbelief. You must be drunk—there is no reason for Chan to keep on messaging you from the dating app. Maybe he sent the message to you instead of someone else, because you haven’t sent him anything. And there’s no reason for him to be sending you this text, these words, in this order—

But you already have opened the app again and checked the text conversations in it. 

And this is how you realize you’ve sent the nudes to Chan instead of sending them to titsl0v3rb0i69. 

You hear footsteps in the hallway and you hold your breath, hoping nobody will come knocking at your door right now because you can feel your face is bright red from embarrassment. There’s nothing left for you to do except to seriously start looking at other apartments, preferably on the other side of the city entirely. Hell, you’ll settle for paying more rent if it means you can leave this place sooner. 

You’re never gonna be able to look Chan in the eyes again.

It was him in the hallway. You can tell because you recognize his footsteps, and you hear the sound of his door closing behind him. His bedroom is right next to yours, something that never bothered you until tonight. Until right now. Poor guy is probably so shocked and embarrassed that he needs a minute on his own—you can still hear the gaming party in the living room, so everyone is still there. 

How difficult can it be to change your identity? To become a new person and move somewhere far away?

Out of all people, you had to send these to him. It had to be him who saw your fucking tits? Why? You want to tell yourself it’s all going to be okay, that, after all, you and Chan are both adults—if he uses the dating app, he is no stranger to sending and receiving nudes as they are a common occurrence on such apps. You want to tell yourself that you’ll just get over it, over the embarrassment, the shame. But you know you never will.

Because Chan is very, very much your type.

you: Chan im so sorry you: i really didn’t mean to send this to you. im sorry  you: fuck i’ll move out asap 

Chan reads the texts, his back still leaning against his bedroom door which he just closed behind him. He reads your words, he reads them in your voice, imagines your cheeks flushed with shame. He always liked your face, always thought you were pretty and had nice hair. Cute lips. You almost always have lipstick on and he’s certain that your lips taste nice. 

Chan: you don’t have to move Chan: i deleted the texts. i barely saw anything 

That was a lie. He had noticed you sent photos, so he had opened them, of course. He didn’t expect… this. So he clicked on them. In the middle of the living room, with all of his friends/coworkers around. Thankfully, they were too absorbed in their game to notice anything.

But he had just turned away a little, and he had looked. At you. He had looked at your tits, the smoothness of them. The curve of your arched back. The second photo showed the bottom half of your face, your lips slightly parted, and blood rushed to his cock. 

So Chan is in his room now, trying to calm down. He takes deep breaths, but he’s a little too aware of the fact that only a wall separates him from you. You’re right there, on the other side… 

you: really? you didn’t see it? 

Here is one thing about Chan—he is not a very good liar. He is not a good liar and he doesn’t enjoy lying, not even through text, so it takes a lot of effort for him to be texting you about these lies.

Chan: i saw just a glimpse Chan: im sorry. shit, im sorry 

He takes more deep breaths but it doesn’t make much of a difference with the embarrassing situation that’s currently happening in his shorts. 

He’s seen you before. Not naked naked, but he’s seen you through the crack of your door when you were just changing shirts because of unexpected weather, he’s seen you with just a towel around your body. Seen you in more revealing outfits.

For an instant, Chan considers these memories of you not-fully-dressed, and he realizes that it ever rarely ended up with his cock remaining soft. 

Chan is drunk and this is why he finally admits to himself that he thinks you’re hot. This whole time, he tried so hard to fight it. Blamed his lack of hook ups for the occasional lewd thought about you. Blamed his busy schedule for his lack of hook ups. Blamed the fact that it was easy to have these thoughts about you because you are his roommate, and he spends a lot of time with you.

you: why are you sorry? it’s my fault  you: if you didn’t see too much… then it’s ok  you: please don’t think that i’m just a slut who sends nudes to anyone  you: im just drunk. and bored 

Chan reads your texts and it doesn’t help. It doesn’t help at all, because he hadn’t even considered the very obvious fact that since these nudes weren’t meant for him, they were meant for somebody else. 

He wants to stop his brain from typing the text he is currently typing, but there is a severe lack of blood flow to his head, and any attempts from his two last brain cells to prevent the texts from happening simply… fail.

Chan: lol im drunk too Chan: and bored 

The very second he presses ‘Send’ on these, Chan wants to disappear into the ground forever, and be forgotten. He simply wants to be unmade, for these are the cheesiest, lamest, fucking dumbest risky texts ever sent in the history of humanity. 

For these, he blames his aching cock, rendering his underwear uncomfortably tight. 

He just needs to jerk off—which he will do right now. It happens sometimes, as it happens to anyone else, for sure.

Then he’ll go back to the living room and get even drunker, and hopefully, he will be able to laugh it off with you as early as tomorrow. 

It’s not his fault that you’re cute and smart and really nice. It’s not your fault either so he doesn’t blame you for it. But it’s certainly not his fault if you smell good and if he saw you in this blue robe earlier, the one he likes so much. If he was going to fuck you, which he won’t because you’re his friend and his roommate and he doesn’t want to mess anything up, but if, he’d hope you’d be wearing it while he fucks you.

He prays that nobody notices him when he leaves his bedroom and darts towards the bathroom. It’s common courtesy in this apartment to notify the other tenants when one is going to shower—in case they need to use the bathroom before—but Chan ignores that unwritten rule and starts the shower to warm up the water a little. He just needs to jerk off, and then he’ll be fine. It’s been a long day, and you weren’t wearing a bra under your robe. And he saw your tits, your beautiful, round—

His phone vibrates on the counter as he’s pulling his shirt off his shoulders. The shirt falls to his feet as he dares to look at the screen.

you: but. why are you bored?  you: the living room is full of your 7 closest friends and you got a big promotion! you: go with your friends, Channie. im really sorry about the pictures. i didnt want to ruin your night 

Channie. His cock twitches painfully when he reads this. Fuck—sometimes, other people will use this nickname with him. Occasionally. As a joke, mostly. But it never feels quite the same as when you do. When you say it, it makes him feel special, like he matters to you in a unique way.

And he likes that feeling a little too much. But that angers him. He’s an adult, and yes, he’s too busy for dating or for hook-ups, but he does respect you. He respects you and he fucking wishes his cock would respect you, too. 

If you think that him seeing your nudes ruined his night… Then, truly, Chan is deep, deep into the friendzone and there is nothing he can do about it. 

Chan is not a good liar.

Chan: you didn’t ruin my night. don’t beat yourself up Chan: you could never ruin anything for me Chan: goodnight <3 

Chan knows that he will not text you anymore tonight, for these were the three worst texts sent in the history of ever, and he deserves to be struck by lightning for sending these pathetic messages to you.

Again. He blames the sudden blood flow to his cock for becoming the worst idiot alive in a matter of seconds.

He manages to get out of his boxers and pants—not without a fight, as they feel much tighter than they usually are, and that irritates him even more. He hates that just a couple of nudes did this to him. 

The water burns him so he adjusts it until it’s more comfortable, and Chan just stands under the shower until he feels calm. Or almost calm. He’s still thinking of you—now, it’s impossible to think of anything else—but he’s peaceful about it. He’s in the friendzone but he gets to be your friend, to laugh with you. You often watch horror movies with him and he likes it because you get scared and you sometimes hide behind his shoulder… 

And he gets to smell your hair and feel you close. 

As a friend. 

Well. Friend or not, that doesn’t stop Chan from locking his strained cock into his hand, staring down straight at it, almost as if he still can’t believe it’s hard. He squeezes faintly, just enough to feel himself, and pumps one, two, three, four, five, six… until he lets go of himself, ashamed. This is wrong. It feels so, so wrong—it’s even worse because he brought his phone in here and he didn’t delete your pictures like he said he did. 

This is wrong and unfair to you, his friend... But he’s so hard, for you. His fingers find his phone which he left on a shelf opposing the water to keep it dry. His fingers also find your nudes again, and the phone returns to the shelf, screen left on. 

Chan’s mouth is watering at the mere idea of feeling your nipples in between his lips… how he would twirl his tongue on them just to feel you. To tickle you. 

No no no. This is wrong, too wrong. 

Chan’s eyes avoid his phone now, but they land on your shower products. He always thought you smelled good, and he doesn’t even think twice before grabbing the first bottle he sees, opening it up, and taking a good whiff of it. 

Fuck—your body wash just reminds him of your skin, the feeling of it against his when he hugged you earlier, in that blue robe… but Chan doesn’t hesitate to pour a generous amount of the soap into his open palm and begin to rub the foam onto his chest, his arms, to cover himself with all of you. Your products smell like sunshine and like flowers and like you.

Chan doesn’t bother with rinsing out the body wash and moves on to your shampoo, which he lathers generously on his hair, his cock still aching but he ignores it. Ignores how tight and sore his balls feel. Ignores how it makes him feel to smell you on him. 

But he thinks about you. Your hands, cute and delicate, taking him, touching him. Your pink lips locked tight around his cock. 

Your tits bouncing when you ride him, and the smell of you, just you… his hands on your waist, pulling you onto him, slamming you on his cock until you come undone and until he fills you up— 

Chan’s train of thoughts is interrupted when he touches his cock again, as it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Fuck, he’s just so horny for you, like he bottled it up all this time and it just needs to get out… 

He squeezes himself so hard that he just knows he will feel sore from it tomorrow, but as Chan strokes himself, he can’t stop a deep moan from escaping his lips, followed by a whimper—he bites into his own fist to muffle the sounds, hoping nobody heard that, leaning with his free hand on the ceramic wall, his forehead pressed against it. He doesn’t even need to look at your nudes on his phone—the images are printed in permanent ink into his brain. 

He doesn’t want to think of you, he respects you. But he thinks of your tongue, he thinks of your tits, he thinks of pulling your hair while he fucks you from behind, your back arched just like in the pictures. You, screaming his name with that pretty mouth of yours…

Chan comes without warning—he just feels one powerful wave in his gut and pleasure takes control of his whole body for a few seconds. He feels the pulse of his length in his hand and watches as his cock twitches under his own touch, and as his thick cum spills out of him and goes into the shower drain, some even splashing on the ceramic wall he’s facing. The rubbing and squeezing continue until he’s empty and until all of the aftershocks have stopped making his shoulders jerk, the pressure within him finally alleviated. 

If post-nut clarity is real, then it hits Chan at that moment. How he disrespected your friendship and your trust in him. 

He uses his own body wash to clean his hands and cock and rinses his body and hair with care. When the water’s off, he finally deletes the nudes off his phone. It was so wrong. What he did was so wrong.

A random towel is grabbed from the closet. Chan dries himself with it and does a short walk of shame from the bathroom to his room. His friends are still having fun in the living room. Your bedroom door is still closed and he can see from the small crack under it that your light has been turned off. 

He gets in bed, ready to sleep, feeling somewhat calmer after a strong orgasm and a hot shower. Calmer, but not soothed.

Chan doesn’t sleep.

You wait after Chan’s shower is over and after he returns to his bedroom to decide what you should do. 

By now, a few of the guests have left the apartment, leaving Jisung, Changbin, Felix, and Minho still in the living room. There’s music playing at low volume and discussions at an even lower volume, but no more loud video games, no more shouting. 

The thing that you want to do is rather straightforward. You want to get out of bed, reach for your closet, find in it your vibrating sex toy and get yourself off. 

But Chan is in the room next to yours and you would bet all the money in your bank account that he isn’t asleep. 

And there are the four other guys in the living room—all of them could hear you, maybe.

But Chan is a little bit more your type than the others. And the whole ordeal tonight—it makes you feel things.

You could, also, not use the vibrating toy, which is loud. You could get yourself off using your hands alone, or using the toy without turning it on, which you do rather often to avoid being heard. 

It’ll have to do.

Your clothes land on the floor in a matter of seconds, and your legs spread open just enough for your hand to reach your folds, which you find definitely not dry after what you heard, while Chan was showering. You close your eyes, your cheeks warm, a strange flutter in your stomach.

Chan went to take a sneaky shower. And you heard him moan at some point into it. A muffled moan but it was there and you are certain you did not make this up. 

You jump at your own touch, at the contact of your cool fingers against your wet heat, but that doesn’t stop you from parting yourself open, fingers kneading nicely with familiar motions, juices coating you in a matter of seconds. 

But it doesn’t feel like it usually does—it’s nice, and you like the way you touch yourself, hover onto your clit, tease your entrance… but you feel empty. Ashamed and empty. You know, you just know, that your fingers won’t be enough. You guess that even if you managed to muffle the sounds of your vibrator, it still wouldn’t be enough.

For just a second, you wonder where that insatiable hunger is coming from.

Your room is dark, but you twist your neck to look at the wall separating your room from Chan’s. God fucking dammit. 

Did he moan… did he moan because of you? Because of the nudes he saw? Or was it an unrelated moan? 

Did he just… did he jerk off in the shower? It has to be that, right? But then, could it be possible that he did it to the thought of you?

The problem is that you’re not drunk enough. You can still feel the whiskey affecting you, but to get over… whatever the hell happened tonight, you need to be a lot more drunk. 

So you find your robe on the back of your chair and wrap yourself tightly in it before leaving your room to sneak to the bathroom, where you feel like a little clean-up is in order. 

While you’re drying your hands on your towel, you notice that the products on your designated shelf of the shower, have been moved. In over a year of living here, it never happened before, as the guys had very little interest in your preferred products.

You lock eyes with your reflection in the mirror. Flushed cheeks, round eyes, disheveled hair—you’re a mess. You’re a stupid, horny mess. 

Maybe not just horny.

Maybe disappointed.

Maybe you made the mistake of sending those nudes to Chan. It was an honest mistake, you didn’t mean to do it. But it happened and he didn’t do shit about it. Maybe he jerked off in the shower, maybe he didn’t. Maybe you were hoping he would send you a picture back, just a quick little dick pic in return, signaling that he had enjoyed what he had seen. Maybe you were hoping he would at least say that you’re beautiful or something like that.

But Mr. Manners himself is way too fucking nice and now you are frustrated, in more ways than one.

You quickly make your way back to the kitchen and find the whiskey still on the kitchen island. There is a lot less of it than there was earlier, but it’s fine. You guzzle down a couple of shots right there and it burns your throat just right. 

Maybe you should text titsl0v3rb0i69. Maybe he doesn’t live too far from here. Maybe he could fuck you and make you forget Chan.

There is one second during which you consider going into the living room and acting all nice to Jisung. If one guy would be down for it with you tonight, it would be him. If you had sent him the nudes instead of Chan, you definitely would have gotten a response out of Jisung. 

You pour yourself another shot and drink it, and that’s when Chan appears in the kitchen. 

For some reason, you’re surprised to see him there, as if the apartment wasn’t leased in his name, as if you hadn’t come across him in this very kitchen hundreds, thousands of times. But he’s here. You see him pull his headphones down and they rest on his neck. You faintly hear the music that’s coming out of them. 

It’s dark in the kitchen, as you left the lights off, but you can tell Chan has a very serious expression on his face.

In the living room, there is a lively conversation about politics. And also about internet memes, for some reason.

“Hey,” Chan says to you from the other side of the kitchen island. 

There is a bottle of American whiskey in between you, but it feels like nothing. But it feels like everything.

But Chan is a little bit more your type than the others.

“Hey,” you echo, your voice trembling, your mouth dry, while Chan pours himself two shots of whiskey and drinks them one after the other.

That’s it. You’re thankful the room is dark because you’re blushing and you can feel it. You’re also feeling warmth pooling at your core, despite the cleanup job you did over there earlier. 

Chan has you wet, and all he did is… nothing. He did jack shit in response to your nudes, and that has you turned on? How fucking pathetic is that?

This is when Changbin enters the kitchen. He’s obviously in a fantastic mood and doesn’t notice the awkwardness in the room.

“Chan, man, we were celebrating without you!” Changbin points out with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Chan replies, his voice smaller than usual. Less steady. “I was, uh, tired.” He drinks another shot quickly, avoiding looking at you or Changbin.

“Sure. Big day for you,” Changbin chimes in with a nod, then he leans back towards the living room to speak to the guys over there. “You guys want anything?” 

“Just bring the lemonade pitcher,” you hear Jisung say. “And glasses. I’m thirsty.” 

You’re thirsty too. You ask Changbin to pour a little bit of the lemonade into your glass before he leaves with it.

The conversation about politics vs internet memes resumes. The taste of lemonade clashes with the taste of the whiskey.

Chan is no longer on the other side of the kitchen island, he’s near the fridge, to your left. 

“Look, Channie—” you begin, turning to him, your heart beating fast in your chest, “I’m really sorry.” 

You hear Chan inhale sharply, almost as if he had been hurt. But he doesn’t look hurt. You know this because he’s taken a few steps towards you, and he is so close now that you recognize the song that’s playing from his headphones, still hanging around his neck. 

You gulp painfully, looking up and into his eyes. 

“Channie—” but you don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything, anyway.

You can smell him. His body wash, his deodorant, the laundry softener lingering on his black t-shirt. Him. That’s how close he is—much closer than he was just a second ago, or are you just making this up? 

This is a song he plays often. You realize that you only know this song because of him and because he plays it when you two are hanging out, alone. 

It doesn’t surprise you when Chan reaches out his hand to cup your face, doesn’t surprise you when his thumb brushes on your cheek, on your mouth… you part open your lips for him, your breath shallow, an earthquake taking place in your chest.

From the bottom of your heart, you didn’t mean to send him these nudes. 

But you did, and he is finally doing something about it—Chan’s thumb is on your open mouth, your tongue just barely pressing against it. 

Under Chan’s touch, all of the frustration you felt earlier evaporates in a second.

He says your name slowly, meaningfully, his voice husky and deep. “I know we’re drunk, but can I please kiss you?” he then asks under his breath.

You manage a nod and, in the process, Chan’s thumb rubs against your lips, which feels a million times better than your hand between your legs did earlier. So much better, that you have to repress a whimper but not for long—a second later, his face is just centimeters away, the song playing louder from the proximity, and then Chan’s whiskey mouth is on yours.

He wraps you in his strong arms, pulling you closer to him, as his lips force yours open. The sounds of your wet tongues and lips meeting make you dizzy, and when you let out a small moan of appreciation, Chan deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips hurriedly, purposefully. 

You stretch your arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer, molding your body against his. You become aware of your breasts pressing onto his chest, and of the fine silk of your robe, cool against your warm skin. You wonder if Chan can feel your nipples. You wonder if Chan can feel how much you want him. 

Your ass hits the counter behind you when Chan pushes you backward, and he groans into your mouth when he presses his crotch firmly against you. You only stop kissing when you need oxygen. 

But you need Chan more. 

You’re pretty sure he’s hard. 

“Chan—” you whisper, your mouth trailing away from his mouth. You pause, pressing your tongue against his earlobe before closing your lips around it. He moans when you begin sucking just slightly, and he pushes you harder against the counter. “—wait—” 

You’re the one telling him to wait but you’re also the one going back to kiss him hard on the lips, you’re the one moaning into his mouth. You’re the one who runs your hand through his wavy hair, which you know means he simply let it air dry after his shower earlier. This is your favorite look of his—casual, laidback. 

Eye fucking you. 

But Chan responds to your hesitation and pulls away from you, a glazed look in his eyes, his mouth wet with your kiss. 

“Sorry,” Chan whispers, taking a couple of steps back. “Shit. Shit shit.” 

A loud series of laughter erupts from the living room, making you both jump and look in the direction of the door frame. From what you gather from the conversation, the guys are headed this way for a late-night snack as well as beers, as the lemonade didn’t quite cut it for them, apparently. 

You look over at Chan, the warmth in your gut more prominent than ever. In one swift motion, you grab the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen island with one hand and Chan’s wrist with the other, and you drag him away from the kitchen, away from everyone else.

You guys make it to Chan’s room because it’s closer than yours, and hurriedly close the door behind you just in time before being seen by anyone. Or so you hope. 

It’s dark in here except for the small lamp on Chan’s bedside table on the wall opposing the door. 

You unscrew the bottle and drink some whiskey, offering the liquor to Chan when you’re done. He eagerly takes it from you. When your fingers brush him, your heart flutters. 

His mouth is glistening again but with whiskey this time. You kiss him, licking the American whiskey off his lips.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “Your mouth tastes so good…”

You feel a shiver pass through you, all of you, when he says that.

You need him. Now.  But Mr. Manners has other plans. 

“We don’t have to…” Chan begins, putting the lid back on the whiskey and setting the bottle on his desk. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

You pull away from him, away from the door, further into his room. It smells like him here. You’re not often in his room. Rarely. 

“Aren’t you hard right now?” you ask openly. You’re drunk and horny. “Didn’t I fucking feel you just moments ago?” 

Chan squirms uncomfortably near the door but takes a step towards you. He’s wearing black shorts and you can’t see, but you felt him. In the kitchen, more laughter, and plates clinking. 

“We don’t have to even if I am,” he tells you, his voice low, his eyes on you, on all of you. Your body. “I respect you.”

You contemplate it. Hell, even in your drunken state, you appreciate it. But you have other plans. “Then fucking disrespect me, Channie.” 

Chan’s headphones are taken off from his neck and he leaves them near the bottle of whiskey on his deck, and he pulls you close, kissing you once more. God, kissing him is a little too good. In your mouth, his tongue is insisting. His tongue is wet and warm and exhilarating.

His hands are on you, now, caressing your body and feeling you up, through the fabric of your robe. 

“What if this ruins our friendship?” he asks, his face somewhere in your neck. 

“You said it yourself earlier. You said I could never ruin anything for you.” 

Chan was a fool to think it would never come to this. 

“You said it earlier,” you tell him. He can see that your cheeks are flushed, despite the relative darkness. “You said I could never ruin anything for you.”

He lets his hands rest on your waist. Standing in his room, with you, right now, is surreal. It’s something he hadn’t even dared to dream of, even if he is slowly becoming aware that he’s wanted this for a long time. 

In the end, you give him a quick kiss. “Channie. It’s okay if you don’t want to. But if you want to fuck me, do it. I really, really want to fuck you.” 

There’s something about this undeniable consent that turns Chan on even more. He looks into your eyes as you undo your robe, revealing to him your beautiful and inviting body. Your smooth skin, your soft and perfect breasts. Ultimately he allows himself a few seconds to look at them. He’s dreamed of that. But he doesn’t dare to gaze below your waist—Chan is afraid it would drive him mad to do so just then.

You sit on the edge of the bed and pull him closer. When he goes to sit next to you, you stop him, making sure he stands in front of you. And then you make sure he’s looking at you in the eyes when you tug on the waistband of his shorts, doing a quick job of pulling them down. They fall around his ankles, and you waste no time cupping his aching cock over his underwear. 

You’re not looking at his face now, you’re looking at what your hand is touching, biting your lower lip. “Channie, you’re so hard…” You lean over, lift his shirt just a little, and kiss his navel. “Didn’t you come earlier, in the shower?”

The honest question startles Chan, but he’s drunk and you’re relentless in your slow rubbing of his length. It’s making him crazy, even through fabric. 

“I heard you,” you go on, a shy smile painting itself on your pink lips. “I hope you moan like that when you come again.” 

You emphasize your wish by pressing harder on his cock, effectively making him moan. The laugh that escapes your lips is sinful. 

The underwear quickly join the shorts at Chan’s ankles, and he kicks them both away.

“Oh fuck…” is all you manage taking in the sight of his erect length. “Channie. Were you hiding this from me this whole time?” 

Again, Chan makes a move to go sit next to you, as he’d very much like to lie down and kiss you some more. But you open up your slender hand and delicately spit into it. He’s too stunned, too hard, to even realize what is about to happen, but you immediately grab his cock and experience the feeling of it in your palm. Chan is experiencing the feeling too, and it’s so sudden and good that he feels his guts tighten, the muscles of his thighs tense up. 

“Like this?” you ask, finally looking up at him, giving a few tentative strokes, rotating your wrists to accentuate the motion. 

“Y—yeah,” is all that Chan can manage, watching your hand work on him. You stroke all of this length slowly, often squeezing at the base, taking your time. It feels good there, and all over, too. Feels like he’s floating.

Your hand slows down even more when it reaches his tip again, and your thumb brushes on it, smearing his precum onto his length. “You’re leaking, Channie…” 

As if he doesn’t know. As if he isn’t ready to come right then and there at the sight of your bare tits and your thighs. 

“Wonder if you taste good…” 

You lean in a little, mouth open, the tip of your tongue visible. God, you are so beautiful. You lock your lips around his tip and he feels your tongue twirl and twist against him. He jerks, surprised by the softness of your mouth, by the shock of pleasure that just shot through him. 

And then you pull away from him, your tongue out, showing him the precum you’ve gathered from him, resting on it. There’s some on the corner of your mouth, too, lazily dripping down onto your chin. Chan watches carefully as your tongue retreats into your mouth and as you swallow what you just took from him.

“You do taste good, Channie…” you wet your lips with your smooth tongue, spreading the taste of him all over your mouth. “Did you like it?” 

Chan nods, his legs weakening. “Y—Yeah.” He whimpers when you take him in your hand again, but his head falls back when you reach with your other hand to fondle his balls, palming them, squeezing them nicely. “Oh, fuuu—” 

His cursing is lost to an exhale, covered by the sound of your laugh. 

You take him inside your mouth again, using one hand to pump and work what you can’t quite fit in. Your head bobs onto him, emphasizing everything, the way you often tease his tip with your tongue, how plush your mouth feels around him, your hand tugging and squeezing his balls, the sound it makes when your mouth moves around his girth… 

It doesn’t take long before Chan’s eyes roll at the back of his head, and before his hands stretch out to lay on top of your head. Doing so makes it so much better for some reason, and all he can do is buck his hips into your mouth. When you moan around him, the vibrations from your voice rumbling against his flushed cock, Chan thinks for sure he will come. But he doesn’t, by some miracle. Fuck, he never wants this to stop. 

You’re good at this. 

Chan hasn’t had that much sex. Like, in general. He’s had some. With women he didn’t really know, with women he never even saw the morning after. It’s just easier this way. After they’re done fucking, he’ll let them fall asleep in their own bed—he never brings girls here—and sneak out of their place. And that had always been okay.

He hadn’t had that much sex but he had enough to know this is the best oral he ever received. The way you sometimes tighten your grip but never on the same area twice, whether it’s with your lips or your hand, the way you make efforts to take just so much of him in your agile mouth—it’s close to being torture. Because you know exactly when to slow down, too. 

Your hollowed cheeks when you give him a good suck. The way you fondle his balls, too. Kindly. Lovingly. It’s close to being torture. The best kind of torture.

Tonight he will fuck you and he will wake up in the same apartment as you. Realistically, you would continue to cohabit, same as before. 

And that does not bother Chan. It doesn’t scare him, because tonight doesn’t feel like the hook ups he has with other girls. It’s you. He knows you. He likes you. 

It makes a delightful pop sound when you release his cock, and Chan groans, his fingers closed into fists in your hair. He looks down at you and you look up at him, your beautiful lips swollen and raw from the sucking, your chin covered in drool and precum. 

Chan lets go of your hair to rub you clean with his thumb, but when he goes to wipe himself on his thigh or something, you grab his wrist and take his thumb in your mouth eagerly, not letting any of his taste get away from you. When you’ve licked him clean, you bite into his flesh delicately, making Chan’s cock twitch painfully. 

He thinks about how today went. His day started normally, he worked hard, skipped lunch break to review some stuff… he was asked to meet with the big boss, got a promotion, which was followed by several meetings… They gave him this bottle of American Whiskey, which he shared with his friends and with you. You drank a lot of whiskey.

Chan wonders if you were just whiskey drunk when you accidentally sent him the nudes.

But, by god, isn’t he glad you did. 

Chan pushes you against the mattress. He does so nicely and politely and you let him do so while he kneels by your side. He can’t wait to fuck you but, also, he can—he wants to touch you, to feel you, even if his balls are sore, even if his cock is straining. You still haven’t let go of his thumb and he watches your face, your mouth, as you lie on your back in his unmade bed, as you nibble and suck gently onto his thumb. 

“Can I touch you there?” Chan whispers, his free hand lingering on your inner thigh, his fingers dancing on your skin. You tense up when he touches you, and he bites his lip when a frown appears on your brow. It’s not the bad kind of frown. And it’s so fucking hot.

“Please, Channie, fuck, yes, yes,” again, the consent sends electricity through his body, and Chan moves his hand further up between your legs. 

He’s barely grazed the smooth skin of your heat but he knows you’re wet. He feels it on your thighs, feels the warmth emanating from you. There’s a loud ringing in his ears. He makes sure to look at your face when he finally presses two fingers against your wet folds.

He never would have expected the sound that you made at that moment. Fuck, he gets close to coming, again, and he gasps as he focuses on you and not on the throb in his cock. 

“Channie,” you whine, squirming on his bed, spreading your legs open just for him, exposing your smooth, wet pussy to Chan. “Yes please, please, please, I need it… need you…” 

You arch your back, opening your legs even further, rolling your hips to fuck yourself onto his hand. Shit, this is too hot, and Chan feels warmth flood his face at that sight—you, using his hand to chase your high, your tits moving with you. Now that you’ve released his hand from your mouth, he uses it to touch them, cup them, squeeze them. 

You’re so wet against his hand. He rotates his wrist until the inside of his fingers is facing your folds, and he gently rubs you, making small rotating motions, alternating with back and forth rubbing to tease your entrance. The blue robe looks so good on you. 

And you look so good in his bed. 

You’re warm and wet. A lot more than he had anticipated. Still on his knees, he caresses you slowly, feeling your whole body come alive under his touch. Your head sinks into the mattress, and another moan again, louder this time—the most beautiful moan he has ever heard.

But also a little loud. Loud enough to be heard outside of this room, for sure. 

He considers it. You, still fucking yourself onto his hand. His flushed cock. 

The crowd, still cooking in the kitchen. His friends.

To hell with it. He uses the hand that’s not fucking you to muffle your voice, pressing it against your mouth. But fuck, it’s almost as if you like it because you only make more sounds… and writhe harder on the bed. 

God, he loves feeling you. So he feels you. Your soaking wet cunt, your mouth biting at his hand. He explores your pussy with his fingers and you stare at him when he brings his hand to his mouth so he can discover your taste. You taste sweet, you taste nice, and he thinks he might want more of that. 

When he brings his head close to your navel, he also lets go of your mouth to spread you open and lift your thighs just enough so that they can rest on his shoulders. Shit, you smell good, too. He can’t be moving too much, because his cock is rubbing against the bed in this position, and he might just come all over himself… 

But, he focuses on you. 

“I’m not… I’m not used to this,” he tells you, his voice low, leaving a few light kisses on your inner thighs. 

“Channie…” He can’t handle how hot you sound when you say his name, when you beg him. 

Chan forgets his lack of experience and uses two fingers to spread you open, kissing your inner thighs, your lips, your entrance, before his tongue reaches you, and you melt. 

You know better than to let the whole apartment know he’s making a mess of you, so you bite down on your own fist as Chan licks and laps at you, making sure every flick of his tongue is as impactful as possible. At least, being so busy doing that makes the ache in his cock a lot less distracting. 

When Chan presses his face harder against you, and your hips meet him there, rolling and bucking and you’re effectively fucking his face, biting your fist is no longer enough to soften the beautiful sounds you’re making. You sound so hot—Chan is pretty sure he could come just to the sound of your voice right now. And maybe the fact that you’re grinding against his face. 

“Fuck yeah… yeah… yes… Channie…” your hand finds his head, his hair, and you press on it for leverage, to get a better angle. Chan just continues his diligent work. “Oh my god, oh god, god…”

The string of curses escaping your mouth doesn’t lie. You bury your face in his pillow just nearby, your body going limp except for your back—you’re arching it so nicely, Chan just knows you’re feeling good.  

He feels a throb under his tongue as you accelerate your grinding. He needs to breathe but when he feels a second throb, he decides he’d rather run out of air than stop now.

So he keeps going, and sneaks a couple of fingers in your entrance, feeling your slick walls around him. Shit. Shit. Shit. Bad idea. He might just come now. You feel too good, too wet—and now you’re not just grinding against his face, your fucking his fingers, and he’s stretching you with them. Your pussy is smooth inside and out, and it feels like heaven.

There’s another powerful throb, and your walls clamp around his fingers before he can even add a third one. Wetness floods Chan’s mouth, your wetness, and your moans flood the room. The pulse of your pussy would be enough to push him over the edge under other circumstances but to witness something as beautiful and magical as your climax feels too special. It never really happened to him before, and he likes it. It was never so… intimate.

He laps at you gently until you calm down, until your back is relaxed again and you’re lying motionless on his bed. Your chest heaves with your deep breathing, and the sounds of your exhales are like music to him. He did this. He did this to you. And it feels good.

Your face is red and there is a little sweat pearling on your temples… but you are the hottest thing Chan has ever seen, has ever touched, has ever tasted. 

He wipes the lower part of his face with the back of his hand as you tug on his shirt to pull him closer, kissing him hard. 

Your mouth tastes like him and his, like you. Your legs are still open and he’s in between them, and Chan feels his cock begging for some attention. 

“You did so well,” you whisper to him, your mouth against his, your hands busy pulling his shirt off his shoulders. When he’s fully naked, you feel his strong body under your palms. “Channie… can you fuck me, now?” 

Chan dives in for another kiss, blindly fumbling in the drawer of his bedside table. Your hips are rolling again, your core threatening to graze over his flushed length. 

His fingers finally encounter the familiar wrapping of a condom, so he quickly pulls it out of the drawer and straightens his back to apply it. You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him carefully. 

“You’re so big…” you whisper as he barely manages to apply the condom. But he does so, and he watches you watching him. 

“I didn’t know you liked cock this much,” he tells you, feeling a little bit bolder after you came all over his face. He really wishes you had sent him nudes before, on accident or not. 

“Haven’t actually had your cock yet, babe,” you tell him with a smirk that gives him chills. But your voice is trembling and he wants to fuck you dumb. “Please, Channie...” 

You calling him babe gives him dangerous ideas—fuck, he almost wants to fuck you over and over all night and sleep with you, in this bed, so that you can call him like that tomorrow morning, too. 

Chan looks at you straight in the eye when he takes his cock in his hand to guide himself inside you. Your smirk disappears. Your breathing stops, too, when he pushes himself inside you, burying his whole length in your wet heat. 

God, you are tight, and wet, and good. Chan takes a few seconds to enjoy this feeling, hoping he will never forget it. The way your pussy hugs his cock, how good it just feels to stretch you…

It’s you who moves first, pushing yourself even further onto his cock from under Chan’s weight, closing your eyes and your head falling back onto the mattress very quickly. You’re whispering things, filthy things, curses, but he can’t make out all of them.

Chan leans over, his face hovering over yours. You’re beautiful. You’re a mess, your breath smells like his cock, and your pussy is tight. Is he just horny or is he falling in love?

“So big…” you manage, your voice weak and strained. 

In any case, Chan gives a careful thrust, kissing your neck as he does so, before slamming his hips into yours, harder, a few times. You wrap your legs around him, obviously in a hurry to feel even more of him, and that closeness does something to him, and he needs to fuck you even harder. 

So Chan pulls out, mostly to readjust his angle and his weight on you, but in doing so he catches a glimpse of your pussy—flushed, white and creamy and beautiful. Shit. Shit. You’re wet like that, good like that, and it’s all for him. 

You catch him staring and surprise him when you sit on the bed and put your hands on his shoulders. You raise your knee just enough and push Chan down onto the mattress, rolling with him until he’s lying on his back, just like you were a second ago. 

His back sinks within the blankets and the mattress as you climb on him, your hands on his abdomen to keep your balance. You straddle him and waste no time guiding his cock, the condom covered in your slick, back inside you. 

Chan feels you sink onto him, taking him all, and he watches his cock disappear inside you all the way to the brim.

You’re full with him and you bend over to kiss him, your hands on his chest now, keeping him in place. And that’s how you begin to ride Chan, moving your hips softly, tentatively at first. Perfectly. 

Using his body for support, you move onto all of his length, up and down, the rolling of your hips sending waves of pleasure into him every single time you sink back down. Every time, Chan fears he might slip out, but you quickly take him all again, and again, and again—

Chan is sweating now but so are you. Your hair is sticking to your face, and the way you’re relentlessly bouncing on his cock, chasing your high, makes him dizzy. Your tits are bouncing with you, and he squeezes them sometimes—but every time you slam onto him a little harder, he falls back down in the bed. When he’s not squeezing your tits, he’s gripping at your waist and he knows, he just knows, that it will leave bruises.

You’re a little too good at this. 

Chan presses his hand against your lower belly, waiting for the right angle until he can reach your clit with his thumb. When you feel him there, you put your own hand on top of his, making him press harder. By now, you’re fucking him faster, and the bed is slamming against the wall, but both of you are too far gone to actually realize what this entails. 

You say his name, over and over. “Chan, Channie… babe… Channie, yes, yes… don’t stop…” He likes the way his name sounds when it comes out of your mouth, just like he had liked the way his cock had looked inside that mouth.

“Channie Channie Channie Channie I’m so close so close so close don’t stop fuck fuck fuck fuck—” 

Again? Shit. He’s close, too, but he ignores it. If he fucking comes, then, he comes, but he wants to feel you clamp around his cock, no matter what. It was so good when it was just his fingers, he can’t imagine how that would be.

It does surprise him when you come, and it seems like it surprises you, too. Your eyes roll at the back of your head, and then your head follows—it falls in between your shoulder blades as your back arches for him, making you reach an even deeper point, if even possible. The sounds it makes when you sink onto him now are unholy. Wet, filthy. Every time you move on him there’s more juices and more slick gushing out of your perfect cunt and he feels it trickling down on him, smearing his cock, his inner thighs. Fuck. Fuck.

Your walls clamp hard, and Chan feels the pulsating orgasm overtake you. He sees you come undone, your pussy throbbing around his cock as you just go limp, as pleasure fills you. You’ve never been as beautiful as this, he is sure of it.

Chan comes too—of course, as if he could help it—somewhere in the middle of there. It’s sudden and strong, and your pussy is unbelievably tight around him when he feels the first spurt of cum flood in the condom, his cock pulsing within you. You feel it, too, and you moan.

And he moans. 

“Channie, yes,” you groan, slumping over him now, your face in his neck. But you’re still riding him, not quite done with your release. “Moan for me, just like that.” 

As if he could help it. Your cunt is better than anything he ever fucking felt, and he’s still coming, his muscles tensing up, his hips bucking into you from below. You ride him the whole time, draining his balls expertly. Every load he shoots soothes him, makes him see stars. He fills the condom, his eyelids fluttering, his face buried in your hair.

“Oh god,” Chan manages when it’s over. It’s over, but his legs are trembling and he feels weak and dizzy. Everything you just did feels so dirty.

You keep him inside while finding his mouth to kiss him softly. He kisses you back, his fingers brushing on your waist, your ass, your thighs.

You retreat a little, his softening cock released from your wetness. He moans when his cock slips out of you, followed by a trail of your sublime slick. Chan kisses you before turning away to carefully remove the condom and dispose of it after tying a knot in it. He has tissues on his bedside table, and he helps you clean up. 

“We gonna regret this, aren’t we?” you ask, his back facing you as he’s still trying to wipe up all of the slick you’ve smeared onto him. There’s just so much of it. So much of his own cum, too. He fucking loves it.

Chan looks behind his shoulder. You’re sitting on the bed, your back leaning against the wall. You look properly fucked out and he loves it. He loved every moment of this with you. It was the best sex he ever had and the best anything had ever felt. 

“Maybe,” he admits because despite all of this, the situation is complicated and he knows it. “I liked it, though.” 

Your lips curve into a soft smile and you join him on the edge of the bed, putting your head on his shoulder. “I liked it too, Channie.” You kiss his skin where your mouth is closest to it and make an attempt at closing your robe, but it’s been crumpled badly in the past half hour.

Chan leans towards his desk and hands you a clean t-shirt that had been resting on the back of his chair. He even watches you after you’ve gotten up to shrug the robe off and put his shirt on. Your pussy is still flushed, still beautiful. 

“I like this, too,” he tells you, his cheeks turning warm again. 

You look into the mirror over his dresser, checking yourself out from a few angles. “Yeah, looks good on me,” you say, “but you looked better.” Even if he just came, this makes his cock twitch a little, and there’s a fuzzy feeling in his gut.

You wink at him from the reflection in the mirror and turn to pick up your crumpled robe on his bed. When you begin to walk away, Chan grabs your wrist softly and pulls you in for a kiss. A last kiss. 

Or maybe not.

“I might want to do this sometime again,” you whisper against his mouth. 

“Any time,” he tells you, his hands on your thighs. “I’m glad you sent me those nudes. Too bad for that other guy they were intended for…”

You chuckle and he does the same. In the end, he lets you go and watches you exit his bedroom. It doesn’t take long before he hears the water running in the shower, however, Chan is a bit thirsty from all the fucking and kissing, so he quickly puts some clothes on and heads to the kitchen. 

The apartment is dark and quiet, which is why he nearly has a heart attack when he finds Jisung in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water and eating cut-up fruit. The only source of light comes from the street lights outside, but it’s enough.

Chan stops in his tracks, cheeks flushing with shame. He tries to collect himself, tries to act cool as he goes to grab the pitcher of filtered water in the fridge—maybe Jisung didn’t hear anything, after all. Right?

“Hey, Channie,” Jisung says to his back, and Chan understands the meaning behind that, behind the intonation. The heat on his cheeks gets worse as he faces his friend to get a glass from the cabinet. 

“Hey,” he manages almost spilling water all over the kitchen island. “Uh—look—” 

“If you’re going to apologize, don’t,” Jisung warns him. “Next time, just try to fucking keep it down, will ya? Didn’t need to hear any of this. Can’t unhear it anytime soon.” 

Chan drinks his water in silence as Jisung walks away, slapping his back a little harder than he needed to. At least, his time with you will have been worth the embarrassment. And he will gladly do it all over again, as soon as you'll need him.