⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝★ synopsis: insta stories that u post of ur boyfriend, bangchan
★ warnings: none
★ a/n: first time I am posting an insta story type thing, I hope it doesn't flop #lol and I hope u guys like it! lee know ver next??
pairing: Hyunjin x f!reader
wc: 9.2K
genre: smut (mdni) + angst with a happy ending (eventually)
series tags/warnings: friends to fwb to lovers, breakup/infidelity (in backstory), switch!hyunjin, switch!reader
chapter tags/warnings: (m) masturbation, alcohol, nipple play, dry humping, fingering, protected p in v, accidental injury, blood, hurt/comfort, face sitting, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolds, choking, pet play, physical violence
part one // part two // part three
masterlist
Summary: The arrangement is just friends helping each other out. It doesn't have to mean anything, and it definitely won't hurt anyone's feelings, or ruin the friendship—as long as Hyunjin can keep his damn mouth shut.
He spent two weeks agonizing about whether it was good or bad that things between the two of you went right back to normal afterward. The movie night that ensued as previously planned was quieter than usual, but Hyunjin couldn’t figure out if it was because he was too busy freaking out in his own head to contribute to any sort of conversation. The next day, he had almost committed to despairing about ruining the friendship permanently, but then you texted him to lament that you’d overslept and gotten in trouble at work, as normal, and he replied back (easier to do when he wasn’t looking in your eyes), and soon your regular rhythm reestablished itself.
But there was a melancholy pulse underneath, at least for him. He kept being struck over and over by imagery from that night, your head tipped back in bliss, your moans shuddering through him, you on your knees, the wet heat of your mouth turning him inside out. He got off to it once a few days later, picturing you spread out underneath him, dropping expletives and moaning his name. He spilled over his hand and stomach with your name on his lips and was immediately dipped in guilt. You’d asked him for a favor, and he was using it to create a version of you that didn’t exist, one that was as in love with him as he was with you. A version that couldn’t possibly live up to the real thing, which he’d had, and should appreciate. After that, whenever the urge to touch himself to the memory surfaced, he pictured that night under glass where he couldn’t touch it or ruin it with any alterations. It was his to keep, his to remember, but not his to use.
And when he saw you in person, he just had to bite the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood to keep the memory from surfacing. You had gone right back to normal, so he would too, even if it took all his willpower to make it happen. He smiled and laughed and tried to joke as usual. If you noticed any difference, you didn’t comment on it, and he was grateful even if it made him taste bile.
The bitter edge of it had begun to ebb by the time he ended up on your couch again a couple of weeks later. He could almost look at you without picturing the scene again, which he took as an improvement. You moved around him as normal, cleaning up the takeout trays as the credits to the movie you had watched together rolled up your television screen.
“Oh,” you said suddenly, snapping him to attention. Your voice carried from the kitchen to meet him in the living room. “Do you remember that guy at work I told you about? My deskmate?”
“The one who likes to leer at you?” he asked.
“That one,” you said, emerging and dropping back onto the couch. “The one who got engaged last month.”
“Good luck to her,” Hyunjin said wryly, taking a sip of his beer.
“Well, no, she must have wised up, because apparently she dumped him. And then when he was telling me about it, in the middle of the office, he was like, ‘Guess we’re both single now.’” You stuck your tongue out and pretended to retch, and then collapsed back over the arm of the couch. “Wiggled his eyebrows like I hadn’t already gotten the hint.”
“Ew, he came on to you?” Hyunjin scrunched his face. “Sounds like he was real broken up about his failed engagement.”
“More like he saw it as an opportunity to play the sympathy card and try to get in my pants,” you said, sipping from your own drink. “He must think I’m real desperate to get some if that’s the quality of bait he’s casting.”
“Good thing you can look out for yourself, then,” Hyunjin said without thinking.
You choked on your drink, spraying droplets of it over the couch, and Hyunjin immediately realized what he’d implied. “Not that—I mean—I meant you weren’t gonna fall for—I mean, that too, but—do you need some water?”
You kept coughing until you pounded on your chest and dislodged some liquid from your windpipe, at which point you were finally able to breathe somewhat normally again. You looked up at him, his face stricken and apologetic, and grimaced.
“I meant that it’s good that you could see through his bullshit,” Hyunjin said quietly. “That’s all.”
“Yeah,” you said, “that is good, because I still can’t get off by myself.”
Hyunjin gaped at you for a second before realizing how slack his jaw was and snapping it shut. “Oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he meant it to.
“Told you it wasn’t like jumping a car,” you said morosely, taking another sip.
His mind whirled. So his attempt at doing you a favor hadn’t even had the intended result. Did that mean you were disappointed in his performance? It had been something closer to a hunch or wish than an evidence-based approach, to be fair. He cast his gaze over you, your eyes downcast to stare into your cup, your body curling in on itself. A pang went through him, to see you so clearly frustrated.
He almost made you another offer, right then. He would take an eon of agonizing to himself if it meant giving you back something that had been taken from you that you missed. But he stopped, the words on the tip of his tongue, and bit it back. He knew he’d done too much out of something that now felt more like an ulterior motive, even if it had felt selfless at the time.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” you said suddenly, reaching out to put your hand on his arm. He stiffened, and then realized that you might have misread the emotions that were surely playing across his face. “I’m just frustrated. Not at you. God, of course not at you. You were great. Really great.”
“Glad I could—well, not help, I guess. Perform? Perform. I guess.”
You didn’t seem to even notice his babbling. “Oh, it helped. A lot. It was—this is probably sappy, but it made me feel a lot less broken, even if it was temporary.”
He nodded. Temporary. But also a lot less broken. He was offended that the universe had ever supplied you with circumstances that made you feel broken at all, but the idea that he’d been able to help ameliorate that, even a little, warmed him.
You squeezed his arm and sat back, swirling the liquid left in your cup and staring into it like it could show you your fortune. Hyunjin ran a shaky hand through his hair and put his beer on the coffee table, so you wouldn’t hear it rattle as he held it.
Just as he was combing through his brain for a safe subject change, you said, “It was kind of fun, right?”
Kind of fun. He turned the phrase over and over in his mind. He would have to do some sort of forbidden alchemy to ever transmogrify the earth-shattering experience he’d had into something that he could only describe as kind of fun. But without a good response, he ended up just nodding.
“And like you said, friends hook up sometimes.”
Hyunjin could suddenly see the shape of the conversation, about to crash over him like a wave.
“And I’m not, like, desperate or anything. But I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted, we could try again? And maybe I’d actually get jump-started this time,” you added with a wry smile. “But only if you wanted. It’d be a big favor, and I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to.”
He’d been braced to say no, because of how brittle his heart felt in his chest, but the way you’d phrased it, as a big favor, did him in. He couldn’t find it in him to say no to you, not when you were glancing at him hopefully and chewing on your lip and folded into yourself like you were embarrassed to even be asking. He was suddenly outraged that you felt like you even had to ask. Didn’t you know that he would fall at your feet? Couldn’t you tell?
He managed to filter all of that until what came out was, “I mean, sure. If you want.”
“No, no, no, don’t say yes just because I’m asking,” you said, folding your arms over your chest. “Like I said last time, I’m not a charity case.”
“Of course not,” he said quickly. “I just...” He needed to dance delicately between saying too much and not enough. “I enjoyed it too.”
You exhaled, a look of relief on your face. “Okay, good. That’s good.”
“And I would be fine with—sorry, more than happy to do it again.” Hyunjin studied your face for confirmation that he’d struck the correct balance, and he was rewarded with your radiant smile.
You scooted closer to him on the couch, smiling but tentative. He huffed a laugh at the look on your face, like you didn’t know where to start.
“Shut up,” you said, but there was no heat in it. “It’s awkward still.”
The smile on his face died.
“Not because of you!” you said hurriedly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Just, inherently. Hooking up is awkward. Even when it’s”—you motioned between the two of you—“you know, platonic.”
“Right,” he said, everything whirling inside of him.
“It’s honestly better,” you said, giving him a grin. “Right? Like, we don’t have to impress each other. It’s just for fun.”
He nodded. “Yeah. We already know each other.”
“And the chances that one of us is going to run away screaming are—”
“Unthinkable,” he finished, vehemently.
You grinned widely. “I was going to say very low, but I like yours better.”
He felt a dopey smile spread across his face.
You cleared your throat and looked up at him. “Sorry, I just don’t know how to start. You... you did a good job starting last time.”
The compliment hit him square in the chest and blossomed. He dropped his gaze to your lips, rested there to give you a chance to tell what he was doing, and then met your eyes when he asked quietly, “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded.
Despite everything that had happened last time, your lips had never touched, and the breathless anticipation that rushed through him set his heart racing. Gently, he covered your hand on his arm with his own, and then slid it up your arm to cup your face. No pauses, no meaningful glances, nothing that would betray his innermost thoughts, just what you wanted. He leaned in and captured your mouth with his.
With his eyes closed, Hyunjin could almost pretend he was dreaming. The first few careful presses gave way to something more heated almost immediately, and even though he yearned to take his time and carefully learn every one of your reactions, he let you press closer as soon as you wanted to. His lips opened when your tongue swiped against them, and he let himself start to drown in your taste. Your hands came up against his chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt, and eventually he pulled you into his lap, settling you in a straddle, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. He wanted to sink into your skin, but settled for kissing you like his life depended on it.
Your lips trailed down his cheek and jaw to kiss down the column of his neck. He deliriously hoped that you’d leave marks in the exact shape of your lips, so that when he tried to figure out if it was all an elaborate dream, he’d have the proof right there on his body. When you reached down to fumble with the hem of his shirt, he helped you peel it off of him, and you latched back onto his neck.
He groaned a curse into your ear, and he felt you shiver against him.
“You like that?” he murmured as you panted, pausing momentarily at his collarbone.
“Yeah,” you breathed, your breath fanning hot against his skin. “Like it when you... make those noises. When you talk dirty.”
You trailed downward and licked his nipple, causing his hips to jolt up into you, nearly bucking you off him. He wrapped his hands around your waist tighter. “So fucking good with your mouth,” he said as you swirled your tongue around the nipple and sucked at it, making his body flood with heat. “Gonna get you on your knees again, keep your mouth full, watch those pretty lips suck me off. Or I’ll eat you out while your mouth is full of me, yeah? Would you like that?”
You just moaned against his skin, and he suddenly needed to feel your skin on his. Hyunjin reached out for your shirt, and you helped him rip it off, discarding it somewhere on the floor, immediately forgotten. He palmed both your breasts at once, rolling your nipples, already peaked, through the lace of your bra, and you threw your head back, face awash with pleasure. You ground your hips down onto him, and he moaned, already painfully hard. There were too many layers between you, but the idea of separating from you long enough to shed them made him want to cry. He just matched your movements, rolling up into you, watching as every moan he let out made your eyes flutter and every press of his bulge made your breath hitch.
You pressed close to him, kissing him messily, open-mouthed, still panting, and then, right against his lips, you said, “Hyun, I want you to fuck me.”
Hyunjin stilled. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “You want that?”
You nodded.
Before he could think any better of it, he stood in one motion, lifting you under your thighs, kissing you hard as he carried you to the bedroom so he wouldn’t say any of the thoughts that were swirling inside of him, could filter them before they made their way out to you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and hooked your ankles behind his back, like you were trying to put down roots inside him. Like you hadn’t already, without knowing.
He laid you on the bed. A voice in the back of his head was screaming at him that there was no coming back from this, that this was a surefire way to break his own heart, but it was muffled under the desire coursing through him. He stared at something he hadn’t allowed himself to want until now, and you stared back, waiting for him.
He couldn’t allow himself to think, or he’d think his way out of it. He went for your waistband, divesting you of your pants and underwear in one motion, and rolled atop you, immediately stroking your cheekbone with one hand and kissing you, hard, while his other hand reached between your legs. He found you soaking and huffed against your skin. “So wet and ready for me, but let’s make sure first, okay?” He pinched your clit between his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.
He worked you up, up, cataloging every jolt of your body, every little motion that made you squirm. You came on his fingers, biting down on his bottom lip, making his eyes roll back in his head.
As you recovered, he discarded his pants and boxers, stroking himself a few times to the lovely sight of you spread out for him, open, ready. Your eyes fluttered open and watched him, hooded and hazy. “Condoms are in the nightstand,” you said, not taking your eyes off him.
He pulled one out and rolled it on, then positioned himself between your legs. He had locked all his logic away somewhere he couldn’t reach; the only judgment he allowed himself was the filter that would keep him from confessing something embarrassing. Every other inhibition was somewhere unreachable.
“Tell me you want it,” he said, breath short.
“Please, Hyun,” you said in a whine. “Please, God, I need your cock, I’m so empty, fuck me, please.”
He committed the sound of your pleading to memory and buried himself inside you.
You choked on a gasp as he thrust all the way in, barely giving you a second to adjust until he was all the way against you, forehead dropping to meet yours, sweat beading at his hairline. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, completely still. If he moved a millimeter more, he was going to come. “So tight... your pussy is so tight, my god... it’s perfect, feels perfect, Jesus Christ, gonna live in here, fuck.”
You rolled your hips against him and clenched deliberately around him. “Ha—don’t—just give me a second—” he babbled, his hand anchored in your hair.
“Need to feel you,” you whispered to him.
“You don’t—ha—feel me yet?” he said, and then thrust hard, punching the air out of your lungs. “How about now?”
You could only cry out weakly, clutching at his shoulders.
He gentled his pace just slightly, but when you gathered yourself to join his motions, you moved against him faster, and he matched you, punching sweet little sounds out of your throat. He dipped his head to kiss you again, swallowing a moan from between your lips. His whole body buzzed in disbelief that this was happening, that you were letting him do this, that you wanted to do this with him. Your cries and gasps were music to him, a lovely score that was bringing him close to the edge too quickly.
He kissed down your jawline to your neck, sucking a mark there, feverishly imagining you branded with his lips. Every moan that fell from your mouth dripped like liquid heat down his spine, and every time you dug your nails into the muscles of his back, he swore he could ascend then and there. Skin slapped skin, wet squelching noises echoed through the room, and the pleasure racing through him, coming to a boiling point, was making him lose his mind.
He was seized by the need to make you come first. The rhythm of his hips never slowed as he reached down between you, making tight, fast circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. You gasped, fingers clutching his arm to give you something to hold on to, your eyes meeting his in a silent, desperate plea.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he groaned, breathing too hard. He couldn’t look away from your face. “Come for me, baby, come on my cock, milk me dry.” He shuddered and moaned your name, and he felt you lock up, muscles tensing, nails digging into his bicep, cries pouring from your lips, your cunt clenching him so tightly he nearly passed out. Instead, he came hard, choking on a raspy groan, pressing his lips to your skin as you both quaked. Your twin orgasms felt endless, until he barely remembered when they had begun, and finally he collapsed against you, dizzy and euphoric.
It took everything in him to fight his instincts through the haze of absolute delight. He wanted to curl around you, envelop you in his arms, press kisses to your temple, your cheek, your forehead, whisper something sweet into your ear, say things he shouldn’t. Instead, he lay there for a minute, warring between floating and climbing back into his body. Finally, when you groaned and shifted beneath him, he pushed his weight onto his own limbs, pulling out of you carefully.
He heard the soft sound you made when his cock slipped out, like you missed its weight, and it made something in him ache in a single pulse, an echo of you.
“Be right back,” he mumbled, sliding off the bed and onto his feet.
Hyunjin removed the condom, tied it off, and floated to the bathroom, where he disposed of it and pulled out a washcloth from your linen closet before running water until it was warm to wet it. When he returned to the bedroom, you hadn’t moved and your eyes were closed, your chest still rising and falling a little harder than normal. He settled gently next to you on the bed and reached between your legs with the washcloth, cleaning you up as carefully as he could. Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled tiredly at him. “Thank you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
Anything for you. God, anything for you. “Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do,” he said instead.
You huffed a weak laugh. “You’re a gentleman now?”
I’ll be anything you want me to be. “Thought I’d give it a try.”
“You’re doing a good job,” you sighed, sounding more sincere than teasing. When you grabbed at his hand, he let you pull him down next to you, even though he was confused. You curled into him and his heart swooped. “Lie with me a sec, I’m tired.”
“Me too,” he said, with a waver in his voice he hoped you didn’t catch.
Hyunjin entwined one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His thumb absently drew tiny shapes against your hip, and you melted against him, sleepy and relaxed.
He listened as your breathing evened out, slow and steady. Even though he felt wrung out, spent, he couldn’t join you in sleep, his mind racing with everything. He didn’t want to spoil a perfect evening by wanting more, but he knew that he was beginning to drown in whatever this was. Worse, he couldn’t bring himself to want to drag himself out. He knew he’d be irrevocably content to destroy himself while you watched.
He ached to say something in a whisper while you slept, but he couldn’t risk you hearing him. Instead, he mouthed I love you at the ceiling while his fingers tightened on your hipbone. He let you lie there against his side until well after his arm that cradled you had fallen asleep.
* * *
Once again, Hyunjin told himself that that was probably it. You hadn’t said anything about a recurrence, just asked him to hook up again, and maybe that was all you needed. He didn’t want to waste a drop of his energy being greedy. He wanted to deserve what he had already gotten. Even so, even though he tried not to anticipate any more luck, he was on the lookout for the possibility a little more hopefully than before.
A little less than a week later, he let himself in to your apartment for a regular hangout, only to find the fragments of a smashed bowl all over your kitchen floor. You were nowhere in sight.
“Don’t go in the kitchen!” you yelled from the bathroom. There was a mad edge to your voice that made his heart tense. Hyunjin skirted the pieces and found you sitting on the edge of your tub, hunched over as you ran water over a gash on your foot that was bleeding.
“What happened?” he said, dropping to his knees beside you.
“Smashed a stupid bowl,” you grumbled.
“Doesn’t the ramyeon come in bowls already?” he said.
“It was for the ice cream.”
“You got ice cream?”
“Yeah, I wanted to—it doesn’t matter,” you said, and he could see tears rimming your waterline. Then you faced him, and something in his face made you break further. “I’ve had the worst day.”
“Oh,” he said, and instinctively stretched out his arms. You folded into him, and while you didn’t sob, he did feel moisture start to gather on the front of his shirt.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he said.
“No,” you said, muffled.
“Okay,” he said, running his hand soothingly through your hair.
“I was going to ask you for a favor,” you said. “That was the... ice cream.”
“The ice cream was the favor?” he said blankly.
“No,” and you hiccuped a laugh as you pulled out of his hold. “The ice cream was the favor in exchange for the favor. I got you the coffee flavor with chocolate chunks that you like. Had to go around to four different stores to find it, everywhere was out.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said automatically.
“You like it,” you said simply, and his heart flipped over.
He cleared his throat, trying to maintain composure. “So what’s the favor for you, then?”
You didn’t look him in the eye. “This is the worst way to ask,” you said, swiping tears off your face. “I was just so frustrated, and tense, and I thought we could, like...” You gestured vaguely toward the bedroom.
The light finally clicked on in his brain. “Have sex?”
You nodded.
“Y/n,” he said slowly, “you do not need to buy me ice cream to get me into bed.”
“I know, but—”
“It’s been good for me too,” he said, only barely avoiding gritting his teeth to get through the understatement. “You can stop thinking of it as a favor. Please.”
“Yeah, but I was going to ask you if I could take control and ride you.”
His stomach swooped, and he was instantly lightheaded.
“You want to—huh.”
“Only if you want!” you rushed. “I just... today’s been so out of control, and once I thought about being in control of something—and then I thought of that—and I formulated this whole stupid plan to ask you and it’s probably not—”
He raised a hand to stop you, trying to compose himself internally. It was as if someone had offered him a piece of candy as a bribe to take some priceless treasure off their hands.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, he wordlessly reached for your injured foot. You raised it and let it settle in his lap. He washed it more gently than you had, and bandaged it with the bandages you had retrieved from your medicine cabinet. When it was fully patched up, he met your eyes and said, “You can use me however you need to.”
Hyunjin thought he saw you catch your breath, or maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. He could tell that you were about to question him again, maybe make sure he was really okay with it, so he interrupted by dipping his head and looking up at you through his eyelashes, as though you were towering over him. Something to make you feel powerful. “How do you want me?”
Your jaw went a little slack, as if you were struggling to process how easily he’d given in. But you recovered quickly. “Strip, and wait for me on the bed,” you said, your voice dipping. It sent a shiver up his spine.
He stumbled out of the bathroom, tearing off his clothes, his heart pounding, mind fuzzing. Distantly, he felt a hot streak of embarrassment that no matter how rotten he felt afterward, he’d go running back to you the second you showed even a hint of interest. Everything he’d been wearing landed in a heap by the bed, and he fell back against the pillows, sinking into the mattress, letting himself go.
Hyunjin could hear you moving around in the kitchen, sweeping up the shards of broken ceramic. He closed his eyes and willed his breath to steady. He was so turned on, entirely hard already, and the delay was only increasing his anticipation. He fisted his hands in the sheets to keep from touching himself, even though his length ached.
He concentrated hard on slowing his breathing, so much so that he didn’t realize you were in the room with him until your voice, right beside his ear, said, “So patient.”
His eyes snapped open to find you leaning over him. You dropped a single, chaste kiss on his open lips but pulled back before he could chase them. Then you started to remove your own clothes, with no more ceremony than if you were just changing by yourself.
“You tell me if you want me to stop, or need anything,” you said, dropping your underwear around your ankles and stepping out of them casually. “Otherwise, I’m going to use you just like you said.”
He let out a little involuntary whimper at that. The dark look in your eyes was making his head spin. He saw you glance at his weeping cock, fully stiff and already an angry red, but your gaze slid right past it like it didn’t even faze you, which unfortunately for him made it twitch even more. You just climbed onto the bed over him, sliding your glorious thighs up his torso until they bracketed his head and your pussy hovered just inches away from his mouth. A drop of drool ran past his lips and down the side of his cheek.
“You gonna make me feel good, Jin?” you said, tone mockingly sweet.
He swallowed. “Y-yes,” he managed.
Without further preamble, you sank down onto his face.
Hyunjin moaned loudly directly into your cunt. If he died being smothered here, he’d die happy. And if heaven looked any different from this, he’d come straight back. He lapped into you, drinking you in, fucking his tongue into you as deeply as he could manage, suckling on your clit after brushing it hard with his nose. You let him work under you until your thighs shook, your moans spilling freely out around him, settling hot in his chest like stones. Your hips started to buck into his face, but based on how your thighs worked on either side of his head, he could sense that you were still holding back. So he reached around to clutch at your ass and pull you to sit fully on him.
You gasped as his tongue went that much deeper, spurring him on. Without warning, your muscles locked up around him, and you came with a cry.
He worked you through it, indulging in the nectar of your body, until you slumped over, boneless, chest heaving. You rolled off his face sideways and landed on the other pillow, your leg still slung across his broad chest. He let you catch your breath for a minute before he pulled your calf to his mouth, planting a series of soft kisses against your shin.
Hyunjin felt you giggle tiredly beside him. “You’re so sweet,” you mumbled, eyes only half-open.
He reached around to massage the muscle of your calf, bringing a tiny moan from your throat. He could feel how tense you were, like you’d been bracing all day. When he’d sufficiently worked out most of the tension in that leg, he carefully moved it off him and sat up to minister to the other calf. Your eyes had fluttered closed, and you groaned whenever he hit a sore spot, but soon he had you breathing contentedly into the air above you.
“Rub my feet too?” you asked, and he immediately slid down over your ankle to press his thumbs into one arch.
“Mmm,” you rumbled as he worked. “So good with your hands, Jinnie.”
He felt himself go red from the praise. He switched over to your other foot, watching as your eyebrows creased and then smoothed out as he kneaded a tough spot with his knuckle.
“Amazing hands... amazing mouth...” Your eyes slid open, and you glanced down.
He followed your gaze to see that he was still painfully hard. He’d been entirely focused on you for the last few minutes, but your attention there made him remember, and flush.
“And such a pretty cock,” you cooed, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Is it good for anything, do you think?”
He whimpered, his heart racing. Just a few lightly mean words from your lips and he was folding beyond control. Secretly, he wished you’d be even meaner.
You crawled to him and kissed him, guiding his pliant body back to lie against the pillow again. His cock slapped against his stomach, and you took it in your hand, stroking it carefully once, making him gasp.
“Too—too close—” he babbled.
You gave him a pitying little smile, kissing him softly at the corner of his mouth. “That’s okay, baby, you can come whenever you want. But I’m going to ride your pretty cock until I’m satisfied, okay?”
“Yes,” he panted, “yes, please—”
“You beg so pretty, Jinnie,” you said. You reached over to the nightstand to take out a condom and quickly rolled it on him, then moved to straddle him and lined yourself up.
A litany of curses and please and oh my god fell from his lips as you sank down on him. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from coming immediately, even if you’d given him permission (and the idea that you had the power to give him permission made his head swim). He wanted to be good for you, in any way you wanted him to be. But when you planted your hands on his chest and began to roll your hips hard, he whined high in his throat and looked up into your eyes, panting pitifully. The gaze you met him with was so intensely hungry that he felt pinned in place, delirious. Everything locked up, and he came with a shout, clutching your hands to his chest like he could help you reach inside his ribs.
You rode him through it and didn’t stop, even when the threads of pleasure turned to electricity. He could only pant ah-ah-ah, his eyes squeezed shut, an errant please slipping in occasionally.
“What do you want, baby?” you cooed, a little meanly.
“Use me, use me, please,” he groaned underneath you.
“Of course, baby,” you said, still in that drippingly sweet tone, but you laced your fingers through his and squeezed, as if you could tell that he needed something soft to ground himself. Through his haze, he squeezed back, letting the edges of his mouth tick up in a smile as you brought him to ruin.
Eventually, your rhythm stuttered, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and your orgasm crashed through you, making you clamp down on him hard as you moaned through it. Hyunjin came again weakly at that, too wrung out to do much more than murmur your name and let you fold into him as you came down from your high. He rolled both of you to the side, laying your head on the pillow, and tucked his head against your collarbone.
Every inch of him felt like it had been turned to jelly, including his brain. Later he’d try to find words for what he felt in the moment, but for now he could only float inside his body, adrift on the high.
He felt you shift next to him, and he was too weary to hold on to you, so he let you slide off him with no resistance, even though it hollowed him out a little in his chest to let you go. Your hands moved to rub his arms, and he looked at you blearily.
“You okay?” you whispered.
He just nodded.
“Did I go too hard on you?”
He shook his head. “Felt really good,” he murmured.
You smirked at him, and he took a mental picture of your mouth in a half-smile, your hair a mess on the pillow underneath you. “You seemed to be into it.”
He nodded again, too foggy to pull any useful words to his tongue.
“We can do it like that again sometime, if you want.”
His gaze met yours, searching. “Can we?”
You sighed and propped your head up on one elbow, looking down at him, a fond smile pulling at your lips. “I guess if this is going to be a regular thing, we should set some ground rules.”
* * *
It turned out that what you had in mind was mostly some structure in the form of increased discussions around personal boundaries and the institution of safe words, so either of you could tap out with no questions asked. You didn’t mention any rules about any of your other behavior with each other, and Hyunjin was both glad for it and a little wounded; you didn’t need a rule that forbade sleepovers because you rarely stayed in bed with him afterward. If you fell asleep in his arms, it was temporary, and an hour later you’d stir and hop out of bed to make your way to the bathroom. He never let himself stay over at your place either, mostly because he figured if he did that you might just sleep on the couch and not think twice about it, which would shatter him beyond repair.
You seemed emboldened at the success of having taken control, and not long after you started bringing him additional suggestions of things you wanted to try but had never had the chance to.
“And turn me down, please, if you don’t want to,” you said. “It’s just that everything is easier with you, and it’d be fun to try.”
So he did try, not just to please you, but because every one of your suggestions made him just as excited. He discovered that you relished being tied up but didn’t enjoy being blindfolded, and he was okay not being able to see you but hated not being able to put his hands on you. You found out that he could not get through one minute of you riding his thigh without turning you over and railing you into the mattress. You panicked when he put some light pressure on your throat at your request and had to use your safe word, but he came almost immediately when you did the same to him.
He cataloged your particular delight when something that hadn’t worked on you worked on him. On one memorable evening, you showed up with a collar and a set of puppy ears and shyly asked if he’d mind if you wore them, but once they were on and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you burst out laughing and couldn’t stop until you’d removed them. You giggled and playfully placed the ears on Hyunjin’s head, but when he turned to laugh at himself in the mirror, he instead found himself making a rather pitiful whimper that reverberated in his chest. Behind him, your eyes widened in glee, and the next thing he knew he was kneeling at the foot of the bed, naked except for the ears and the collar, watching you leaning over him and whispering something about how good boys get treats and you can obey commands, can’t you, puppy? He didn’t have to school his tongue all night, instead letting himself sink into dumb obedience. It was heaven.
And sometimes you both let go of the need to experiment and just concentrated on making each other feel good, a simple pleasure that he came to rely on more and more. When there was nothing between you and all he could do was use his body to build you up and make you cry out, he got a high as potent as any drug could give him.
He lived for the moments afterward, when you would roll over to him and just look him in the eye as you caught your breath, a warm fondness overtaking your face. You would often reach out and touch his cheek, or his arm, or his chest, and rub a few soft circles on it with your thumb or a finger. More and more often, you let him pull you into his arms after, his heartbeat thudding under your ear where you could hear exactly how you made it race.
And even after you slid out of bed to get cleaned up, often leaving him alone in the sheets to take care of himself, Hyunjin would find you in the kitchen, pouring him a glass of water or fixing tea or laying out snacks for you both to recover with. He noticed that the flavors of tea he complimented always showed up in your pantry again, and the snacks that he finished the fastest reappeared in the fridge for next time. When he made an absolute mess of his boxers and he stuck his head out of your room to ask if he could use your washer and detergent, you went and pulled out a package of boxers from your dresser drawer. “I got these in case you needed them,” you said matter-of-factly, as if this was a normal thing to do for someone you were just hooking up with. He turned them over and saw that they were in the style and color he usually wore, and he had half a mind to drop onto his knees in front of you then and there. The next time he showed up to your place, you’d washed the original pair and had them waiting for him.
He couldn’t tell anymore if this was exactly as kind as you had ever been to him, or there was something more blossoming beneath. Every time you held his hand, or fed him, or pulled a blanket over the both of you on the couch during a movie, he tried to remember if this was normal, or if it could be a sign. He wanted to be able to tell if anything had changed, but he hadn’t been able to think straight around you long before any clothes had come off, so every little thing set him spiraling. A kiss on the temple made his heart lurch. A silent invitation for him to put his head in your lap so you could run your hands through his hair while you gossiped about your coworkers made his brain go fuzzy. A hug that lasted a second too long when he showed up at your apartment made his stomach clench, and when you pulled away as normal, giving him a bright smile, he had to look past you because he knew whatever his face was doing would give him away.
It was possible there was something there, something more than there had been before. But the possibility was so thin that he couldn’t justify ever pushing it, ever testing it, ever gently nudging to see if there was more. The risk was simply too great. So he tamped everything down and sealed it away inside himself, vowing never to let it out, especially not at his most vulnerable, while he was actively living out his fantasies. You’re everything I want became you’re taking me so well, your pussy feels fantastic. You don’t know what you do to me became just like that, just like that, keep going. And the constant refrain of I love you that echoed in his brain, fighting to make it to the tip of his tongue, became so good, so good, so good.
He was starting to rip apart at the seams. He dreaded and craved every time he would fall into your bed. Continuing it indefinitely felt unthinkable, but calling it off felt impossible. He would sit at home and resolve to tell you that he had to stop, and then he would show up at your place so desperate to touch you that he felt like he couldn’t stop until you were fused into one. He daydreamed that you gained the ability to read his mind, and you divined everything from him in one second; that dream ended with you either throwing him out forever or, in the happier version, pulling him into your arms with your own confession. And still he threaded the needle between the two scenarios, the one where the two of you were just friends who slept together.
One night, after both of your bodies were already spent, Hyunjin peeled out of bed first to use the bathroom and splash some water on his face. When he emerged, you were still in bed, your chest heaving like you’d run miles, your eyes closed, a hazy, satisfied smile on your lips.
His heart ached as always to see you like that, beautiful and sated and all his and a million miles away. He stooped to pick up his boxers off the floor and slid them on. “I should—”
He stopped as you reached your arm out to him. “What?” he said.
“It’s late,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He thought he detected a hint of nervousness in your voice, a slight tremble that you valiantly tried to quell. “Stay.”
He froze. Neither of you had ever stayed overnight. It was the unspoken boundary that hadn’t been crossed.
He waited for you to qualify like you always would, always letting him know he had no obligation to say yes to you, you don’t have to or only if you want, as if there were any universe in which he had the ability to deny you. But instead you just reached out farther, your hand hanging off the edge of the bed, and whispered, “Please?”
Everything in him melted. He dropped the clothes he had picked up and forgot them entirely, climbing back into bed with you. You immediately wrapped yourself around him, letting him fold his arms around your waist and drawing you into him. You lay your head on his chest as he turned onto his back, his thoughts static.
“I like having you here,” you whispered into the dark. You sounded half-asleep already.
“I like being here,” he whispered back. Tentatively, he let one hand stroke your hair, and he felt you sink further into him, your breath beginning to fully even out. “I like... being here with you.”
You gave a little murmur of approval, but didn’t speak anymore.
Maybe it was too small of a thing to hang all his hopes on, but for the first time in weeks, Hyunjin felt less like he was being torn apart and more like he was being stitched together. He fell asleep in your bed to the sound of your breathing, holding you just like he longed to, his heart blooming with something that felt terrifyingly like hope.
* * *
The pale sunlight of the early morning painted the room when Hyunjin awoke the next morning. He looked down to find you still nestled into him, an errant sunbeam making you glow where your cheek rested on his chest. He took you in for a moment, committing this picture to memory, relishing a moment that finally, finally didn’t tinge the sweetness with bitterness. Then he very carefully extricated himself, cushioning your head so you wouldn’t wake, and put on his clothes before slipping quietly out your front door.
His head was a mess, but in a good way. The brisk morning air woke him up as he walked down the block to the coffee shop on the corner, heart pounding with the possibility that maybe things were going somewhere. Maybe you looked at him as more than a friend. Maybe the current mess in his head had an echo in yours. He wasn’t sure how the day would go, but he wanted to see it, and perhaps make sure you were both caffeinated for it.
Hyunjin ordered at the counter, your usual coffee orders and probably four too many pastries, and sat down to wait. After a moment, he caught the sound of a familiar voice.
He turned about ten degrees to see the owner of the voice sitting behind him, on the phone, oblivious: your ex. He was chatting loudly, and the sound grated in Hyunjin’s ears. He’d vowed that he’d kill this asshole if he ever had the misfortune to run into him, but for a second, he was frozen, computing.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to run into her, but I’m not going to avoid the best cafe in town just because she lives around the corner, so, you know,” he was saying into the phone. “But god, it would be awkward.” He paused. “Yeah, no, she’s probably still going crazy over it. She was so emotional. Could barely get anything done with her around, you know? She was exhausting.” A pause, and then he laughed. “Well, yeah, that’s why I stayed with her as long as I did, right? Good in bed, but it couldn’t make up for her personality—”
The barista said, “Hyunjin?” and put his order on the counter, but Hyunjin barely heard. Trembling, he rose to his feet.
Behind him, your ex inhaled in recognition and said, “Oh, shit, I gotta go,” into the phone, and then he sent Hyunjin a tentative, placating smile. “Hey, buddy,” he said, reaching out a hand as if for a handshake, as if he wasn’t a sentient pile of pond scum, “long time no see! You—”
Hyunjin saw red, and the next thing he knew, his knuckles were stinging and your ex was holding his mouth, blood starting to gush where his lip had split.
“You piece of shit!” Hyunjin was screaming, as other patrons gasped. A few leapt to their feet to intervene, but he barely registered them. “You’re a fucking piece of shit, I hope you rot in hell, you bastard—”
He was screaming so vehemently that he didn’t have time to dodge the fist that came flying at him, connecting with his nose. Pain bloomed bright in his face, and he felt warm liquid gush over his lip, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He was still screaming, now incoherently, as someone hooked their arms around his shoulders and dragged him away, and someone else did the same to your ex, who was muttering and pointing at him indignantly, as if expecting someone else to do something.
Hyunjin thrashed in the arms of whoever was holding him back. “Get off—get off me—”
He managed to slip out of their hold, and before anyone could stop him, he grabbed his order off the counter and bolted out the door.
* * *
You opened the door to find Hyunjin, holding coffee and a bag of pastries, his nose gushing blood.
“Are you okay?” you practically shrieked, dragging him in by the arm. “What the hell happened?”
You dragged him into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet seat, inspecting his face carefully. He flinched when you gingerly touched his nose. The coffee and pastries sat forgotten on your bathroom counter.
“What happened?” you demanded again, mopping up his face with toilet paper, careful not to make contact with his nose again.
“At the coffee shop,” he managed, and then spluttered, making blood fling out onto you. You grimaced.
“I’m going to get you some paper towels and an ice pack. Keep talking,” you said, disappearing into the kitchen.
“I was getting coffee and I—I ran into you-know who,” he said, raising his volume so you could hear him.
“Who?” you called back.
“You know,” he said.
“I really don’t,” you replied, reappearing with the materials. “Here.” You handed him the ice pack, which he settled over his nose and one eye, where a shiner was already starting to bloom, and turned to the sink to wet the paper towel to help mop up more of the blood. “Your nose is bleeding really badly. Tip your head back.”
He obeyed, training his eyes on the ceiling. “Your ex,” he said finally.
You whirled around to face him. “What?”
“I ran into your ex,” he repeated.
“And he attacked you?” you said. You hurried back to him and wiped up his face, the water cold against his hot skin.
“I—no, not exactly. I mean, kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of?”
“He—” Hyunjin closed his eyes and exhaled, furious all over again. “He was on the phone with someone. Talking shit.”
“Okay,” you said, cleaning him gently.
He looked down at you. “Talking shit about you.”
You froze, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you said, “Okay.”
“And I’ve wanted to kill that guy for ages and I just—”
“Hyunjin—”
“I punched him in the mouth.” He was grinning now, looking down his nose to catch your reaction. Everything was bubbling up inside him. God, it had felt good to see the shocked reaction on that motherfucker’s face, to show him an ounce of consequence for his actions. Hyunjin couldn’t stop smiling.
You’d stopped wiping his face. “You did what?”
“Hit him in his stupid face.”
You took Hyunjin’s face between your hands and tilted it back down to look at you straight on. “Hyunjin. Why?”
“He was talking shit about you,” he repeated, confused.
You took a step back from him, your hand on your forehead. You were looking at him like you had something to say, but it wouldn’t come out right, so you turned away from him, but he could see your expression in the mirror. If he was hoping for fond, or happy, or proud, he wasn’t getting it. “Y/n?”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t have done that!” you snapped, whipping around. “You can’t just go around hauling off and hitting people in the face!”
“People?” he said. “It’s him!”
“I know.”
“He’s an asshole!”
“I know that!”
“He had it coming!”
“So what? You had to rain justice on him?” you said.
Hyunjin climbed to his feet. His nose gushed more. “I was defending you!”
You gaped at him. “I don’t want you to. You think I want you punching everyone who says mean things about me?”
“He cheated on you!”
“So were you punching him because he cheated, or because he was talking shit?”
“Both!”
You laughed hollowly. “That’s—that’s not—”
“You weren’t there! You didn’t hear him!”
Your eyes flashed. “And if I had been there I definitely wouldn’t have asked you to assault him on my behalf! I can handle my own shit, Hyunjin! He isn’t any of your business!”
“What are you talking about?” he spluttered. “Isn’t he? He hurt you!”
“And what,” you said sharply, “does that have to do with you?”
Something inside him sliced cleanly open.
“I—I thought—”
“You didn’t think,” you said bitterly.
He went cold. He wavered on his feet all of a sudden, whether from shock or blood loss, he didn’t know.
“Hyunjin, sit down,” you said, reaching for his arm, but he pulled out of your grasp.
“I have to—I have to go,” he stammered, then turned and stumbled toward the door.
“Hyunjin,” you said, following him closely.
“You’re right,” he said as he made his way unsteadily down the hallway, you at his heels. “I shouldn’t have punched him. Sorry.”
You grabbed his hand before he reached the front door, but he threw it open anyway.
“Hyunjin,” you said plaintively, “come back. I’m not done cleaning you up. I’m... I’m sorry I snapped at you. You’re hurt, come on.”
He met your eye. Something inside of him was screaming, raging, but a blank nothing looked out at you.
“What does that have to do with you?” he said.
Your eyes widened. He snatched his hand from your grasp and slammed the door behind him.
This doesn't even surprise me. I've always said he deserves better and should be put on shows. He's funny and seems suoer sweet. I hope he is doing well with everything going on rn.
Here it is !!! I was hoping to get it done before golden hour pt5 came out but it sadly didn't work out... Well, i guess a week late isn't that bad at least...
So, enjoy this little animation based on the adrenaline MV (and let's hope tumblr doesn't ruin the quality of the video too much).
I'll see you (hopefully) soon because i'm already planning something for the BAD MV !
The sound of skin against skin echoed against the walls along with your moans mixed with Hyunjins grunts.
Your shirt was bunched up above your chest, his hands groping your tits while his other rested on the bed next to you. Eye’s half shut as he looked down at you.
“Feel so good,” He moaned. Feeling you clench around him at the praise.
Your hands gripped the sheets, toes curling as he hit that spot in you repeatedly- and the visual above you.
Sweat painting his face, mixing with his hair and causing a few strands to stick to his face. Eye’s half shut. Hair slightly messed from his fallen and forgotten hat. Lips kissed swollen- and his STAY lock-key necklace dangling from around his neck.
You hooked your finger around the jewelry, lifting your arm with effort as the pleasure shooting through your body made you weak.
Hyunjin didn’t notice until he felt the pressure on the back of his neck, glancing down and seeing you pulling gently at the necklace.
He grinned, shifting. “What? You want a kiss?” He cooed teasingly with a smirk, setting down onto his forearms. Chest pressing against yours. “Hm?”
You didn’t reply, simply reached up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Cold of his necklace resting against your neck.
He groaned into the kiss, hips faltering before speeding up.
“You’re insatiable.” He grinned into the kiss, pulling away to catch his breath before his lips were on yours again.
