summ: jisung losing a bet and washing your dirty laundry was supposed to be funny, not the reason you end up naked on his sheets.
⋆ pairing: jisung x f!reader
⋆ genre: smut (minors dni)
⋆ tags/cw: friends to lovers, almost no plot lol, lots of kissing, biting, some whining and whimpering, jisung is really needy here, lots of teasing, grinding, unprotected s*x, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, baby), afab reader, fluff ending (if you squint)
⋆ words: 3.5k
a/n: i was working on some wips when this idea popped into my head and i HAD to write it. i wrote this in one sitting and i think i kinda cook here hehe. i loved writing this jisung + their dynamic, so i hope you enjoy!! >_<
time always seemed to crawl whenever you were there.
you scrolled through your phone in boredom, replying to messages with little interest, lazily flicking between unfinished conversations and videos of cats doing something adorable or ridiculously unnecessary.
the day was uncomfortably hot. the heat felt suffocating, sticky, heavy. and the laundry room wasn’t helping at all.
the man beside you, crouched down with a deep frown etched across his face, muttered curses under his breath as he shoved clothes into the washing machine like each piece was personally responsible for his misery.
you sat perched on top of the dryer, legs swinging idly near jisung’s face. the machine hummed beneath you, vibrating softly, blending into the thick tension filling the small room.
a mischievous smile slowly spread across your lips.
“maybe if you worked with a smile on your face, you’d finish faster,” you hummed, eyes never leaving your phone.
jisung clicked his tongue and tossed a shirt into the washer harder than necessary. then another and another until his patience finally snapped.
he let his palms fall heavily onto his knees before straightening just enough to look at you. his expression was tinted with that deliciously familiar, childish annoyance.
“this is unfair,” jisung declared, his voice thick with indignation, as though he were the victim of some elaborate conspiracy.
you rolled your eyes, letting out a soft laugh. setting your phone aside, you crossed your arms and looked at him with shameless amusement.
“you agreed to the bet. you lost,” you listed with mocking calm. “i don’t see the injustice.”
you leaned forward slightly, just enough to ruffle his hair. his scowl deepened instantly, making him look like a sulking cat.
"all i see is a sore loser, ji."
jisung jerked away from your touch as if it burned. he began stuffing clothes into the machine in careless piles, clearly determined to get it over with as fast as possible.
he was in a mood today.
which was… curious.
anyone watching from the outside would have assumed you were sworn enemies.
but not.
quite the opposite.
you had been best friends for years. changbin had been the original culprit. a casual introduction with no expectations that somehow turned into an instant connection.
since then, you’d been practically inseparable.
that didn’t stop the constant friction, of course. or the endless teasing.
provoking each other.
pushing boundaries with a dangerously comfortable familiarity. after all, you’d always known exactly how far you could go without crossing the line. or at least, usually.
this wasn’t supposed to be any different.
after a stupid bet based on "who could get someone to believe the most ridiculous lie" —which jisung had lost spectacularly in less than twenty-four hours— your teasing hadn’t stopped.
and there you were, two weeks later, on a sweltering summer afternoon at jisung’s place, arguing yet again about that same ridiculous bet.
“no. it’s unfair because you know how gullible felix is,” he shot back, pointing at you with genuine irritation. “of course you’d win if you talked to him!”
“and yet you never thought to do the same. there weren’t any rules against it, sweetheart.”
the detergent and fabric softener landed in their compartments with far more aggression than necessary. jisung clenched his jaw, clearly searching for inner peace somewhere deep in his mind.
he shouldn’t have been taking this so personally. he never really did.
but something felt different today. something tense that threatened the fragile thread holding your friendship together.
he simply clicked his tongue, shoved the laundry basket aside, and threw you a dangerous look before walking out of the room like a walking storm cloud.
maybe this was that limit you both knew so well.
maybe the smart thing would’ve been to leave it alone. go talk about something else, make tea, eat cookies, and watch one of those stupid dating shows you both loved mocking.
but not.
something in your brain urged you to keep going. to push him just a little further. to get some kind of reaction.
you didn’t know whether it was boredom or jeongin’s words from that morning.
“jisung’s been acting weird about you lately. i’m not saying anything, but… there’s something there.”
the slam of the refrigerator door pulled you from the memory. you walked into the kitchen with your usual calm, eyes landing on jisung’s tense back as he moved around gathering ingredients for a hastily made sandwich.
with an easy hop, you seated yourself on the counter. you watched him closely, studying how he reacted to tiny frustrations like the cheese tearing or the knife not being where he expected.
"what’s your problem now? you’re crankier than usual."
okay… maybe not the best choice of words.
jisung glanced at you over his shoulder. his dark eyes carried something you couldn’t quite name. he abandoned everything he was doing and turned fully toward you.
he closed the distance in long, determined strides, planting both hands on either side of your thighs. his knuckles were white from the unnecessary force. his body leaned in, face dangerously close to yours.
"you're being more bratty than usual,” he said, voice tight. “you haven’t stopped pushing my buttons since you got here. what’s up with that?"
you rolled your eyes, casually running your fingers through your hair.
"you're just being sensitive, ji. drop that and let's do something fun," you said sweetly, flashing him a gentle smile and batting your lashes.
your foolproof trick. jisung could never resist that.
except today… he didn’t budge.
“no thanks. you can go watch tv. i’m going to my room.” jisung cut, his voice sounding irritated.
but he didn't move an inch. he seemed to be waiting for something from you. your breathing stalled as you finally became aware of just how close he really was.
his breath brushed against your lips. his gaze locked onto yours. his tongue slowly swept across his own lips. your body reacted before your mind could catch up. a tense heat coiled deep in your tummy.
something dangerously familiar.
jisung suddenly let his head fall forward, resting against your chest. an old habit. one born from the first heartbreak he’d ever suffered. you’d always been his safe place. where he could breathe, reset, gather himself when the world became too heavy.
now you were the one unraveling him. and it was costing him more than he wanted to admit.
“you’re messing with my head…” jisung whispered, his voice vibrating against your skin.
saying it felt like a release. one that somehow trapped him even more. never, not once, had he imagined the day he’d stand this close to you and confess how completely insane you made him. he could feel your racing heartbeat and your uneven breathing against his neck.
you didn’t know whether to lean further into the moment or shatter it with some terrible joke like always.
but that was impossible now.
you were already far too deep. pressing your lips together, you gently stroked his hair, staring into nothing as you searched for some kind of answer.
“do you really not see it?” his voice cracked more with every word. “am i reading this wrong?”
you couldn't run now.
you swallowed hard. your pulse screamed at you to get out, to break away. but when jisung lifted his head and looked at you again, eyes glassy and painfully vulnerable, you knew you couldn’t leave him hanging there.
with a soft sigh, you cradled his face carefully, as though he were something fragile that might shatter with the slightest misstep. it had been so long since you’d seen him this distressed.
and it hurt like hell knowing you were the reason.
"hey, i don’t know what you mean. but we can talk. what’s going on?"
his silence only tightened the knot in your chest. adrenaline rushed through your veins. jisung’s hands settled against your waist with something almost reverent.
"do you like me...?"
not the usual way.
not as friends.
“of course i do. what kind of question is that?” you laughed weakly, thumb brushing lovingly across his cheek.
“no. i want to know if you like me… the way i like you,” jisung murmured, his voice barely rose above a whisper.
the world seemed to stop.
you hesitated before speaking. you needed to be careful. but his doe eyes simply made thinking rationally nearly impossible. they begged for something you weren’t even sure you could admit to yourself yet.
"and how exactly do you like me, jisung?"
he straightened abruptly, intensifying the electricity between you. his grip on your waist tightened as he looked at you with unmistakable urgency. your heart pounded, caught somewhere between anticipation and caution.
slowly, he pulled you closer, sliding you along the counter until your legs rested on either side of his hips. your hands trembled as they came to his chest, fingers curling instinctively into the fabric of his shirt.
your breathing grew heavy, erratic. the heat in your tummy deepened, clouding your thoughts completely. and your eyes traveling from his eyes to his lips only worsened the feeling that was growing inside you.
this was so fucking wrong.
but you were already leaning in.
“i can’t keep pretending this is nothing… i could kiss you right now,” jisung declared. his fingers pressed firmly into your hips.
it wasn't a warning or a threat. it was something even worse: a confession.
your grip on his shirt tightened.
the air between you became unbearably thick, charged with something that had been building for far too long beneath jokes, petty arguments, and lingering glances neither of you had ever dared analyze.
the consequences could haunt you later.
fuck it.
you yanked him forward by his shirt, and the collision of your lips was clumsy, almost violent. completely desperate. anything but graceful.
his mouth crashed into yours with a raw, unfiltered urgency that stole the air from your lungs, teeth bumped, breaths tangled, noses pressed awkwardly, but neither of you cared. it was messy, heated, years of tension detonating all at once.
jisung let out a strangled sound against your lips, something wracked and helpless, vibrating straight into your mouth. your tummy tightened violently at the noise.
your legs instantly wrapped around his hips, locking him in place, pulling him impossibly closer. the heat of his body slammed against yours, solid and overwhelming.
“y/n…” he breathed, the word dissolving between your mouths.
his hands slid down your sides with frantic impatience before gripping your ass hard enough to make you gasp. fingers digging in, possessive, desperate. and then, suddenly, you weren’t touching the floor anymore.
the sharp intake of your breath between you as jisung lifted you with startling ease, your bodies pressing together even tighter. your chest crushed against his, his racing heartbeat hammering wildly against your ribs.
the world shrank to mouths moving feverishly against each other. kisses turned erratic, hungry, borderline reckless. your tongues clashing without rhythm, teeth grazing lips, jaw, whatever skin they could reach. every breath came out shaky, broken.
jisung stumbled toward his bedroom, movements clumsy but determined. you could feel the tension coiled tight in his body, the barely restrained urgency in the way he held you. he bumped lightly into the doorframe.
“mmh– shit…”
you laughed softly against his lips, breathless, your mouth still chasing his.
even now, he was still jisung.
the moment you crossed the threshold, your lips abandoned his mouth, trailing down to his neck like gravity itself had taken control.
the reaction was immediate.
a violent shudder ripped through his body and ended on his crotch. you felt the way his hips jerked involuntarily as his grip tightened. a sharp, broken gasp tore from his throat.
“ah– wait– not there…”
his voice came out wrecked, trembling, completely betrayed by the way his body arched into your touch.
you didn’t wait for shit.
you sucked, bit, and licked at his skin like it was your final mission in life, lips moving hungrily along the sensitive column of his throat. his skin burned beneath your mouth, hot and slightly damp. jisung’s breathing completely lost its rhythm.
“f-fuck…”
his knees hit the mattress in a graceless collapse, dragging you down with him. the impact sent a jolt through both your bodies, a tangle of limbs, heat, and desperate hands.
the air in the room felt thick and charged. you settled astride his lap, thighs pressing against his hips. instantly you felt his hard, heated cock pulsing insistently beneath you.
the sensation sent a sharp spark of heat straight through your core. your hips reacted instinctively, a slow, testing grind that pulled a broken whimper from jisung’s lips.
“look at you…” you purred.
his chest heaved beneath you, breath coming shallow, eyes blown wide as he stared up at you like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. like you might disappear. his hands slid up your waist agonizingly slow, being a stark contrast to the earlier desperation.
his fingers dragged over your sides, memorizing, savoring, burning a trail across your skin. the touch was almost reverent, sending goosebumps racing along your body despite the heat pooling between your legs.
your hips moved again in a subtle, torturous grind. the friction was soft, maddening, yet utterly delicious. jisung’s head fell back with a shaky exhale.
his fingers slipped beneath your blouse without hesitation, sliding against bare skin. the contact drew a sharp gasp from his throat, his entire body tensing under you.
“i– i always wanted to…”
his voice fractured completely. he couldn’t even finish the sentence, no matter how much he wanted to. but you felt it in the way his hands trembled, in the way his breath stuttered, in the way his cock twitched beneath you.
his hands wandered everywhere like he’d lost all sense of direction: your belly, your waist, your thighs. fingers pressing, ripping, sliding, like he needed to feel everything at once. like he was starving.
and when his hands reached your breasts, the air left his lungs entirely. his mouth parted in a silent, stunned inhale. a broken, incoherent curse fell from his lips. the look in his face made heat explode low in your tummy.
pure awe and adoration.
like you’d just handed him something sacred.
the kiss that followed was different. it had become a slower, deeper motion that carried something dangerously intimate. mouths moving together in an intoxicating sway that made your head spin. his lips were warm, soft, slightly swollen against yours.
clothes vanished between clumsy hands and nervous laughter. a few stubborn buttons, a shirt caught around your wrist, a breathless “wait”, and suddenly—nothing. cool air kissed your heated skin.
you lay naked against his rumpled sheets, chest rising unevenly, skin buzzing with anticipation. jisung stared down at you like you’d committed some unforgivable crime. his pupils were blown wide, his breath completely wrecked, and his lips parted in stunned disbelief.
“what are you waiting for?” you whispered against his ear, teeth grazing softly.
jisung let out a trembling whimper that sent a sharp pulse of heat straight between your legs. "god... you’re driving me insane."
his hands gripped your hips tight, yet he still didn’t move. instead, his lips found your jaw, your neck, your mouth in slow kisses that burned and lingered.
kisses that made your body ache with every second he refused to give you what you both wanted. like he wanted to savor this. like he wanted to torture you.
“you’re always so bossy…”
“and you’re always so slow…”
that crooked smile appeared on his lips. the same smile you used when you challenged each other in the university cafeteria or when you started a dangerous fight that ended in raucous laughter.
and then, finally, jisung aligned himself with you.
the first push inside was slow enough to make your entire body jolt. a sharp, breathless moan tore from your throat as your walls stretched around him, the sensation overwhelming, almost too much.
jisung’s breath hitched violently and his forehead dropped against yours. neither of you moved. both of you just felt the fullness, the unbearable tension of being joined like this. completely. he didn’t move again until he was fully buried inside you.
the stretch made your toes curl. your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders meanwhile your breathing collapses into something shaky and broken. and then his movements began slow, deep, and torturously deliberate.
each thrust dragging pleasure through your body like a slow burn. your nerves felt raw, hypersensitive, every tiny motion amplified. your breaths merged into one. jisung let out a broken sound.
"fuck…"
your nails dug into his shoulders as you felt him pulse inside you, warm and wrenchingly perfect. your eyes locked, and no words were needed.
you both knew you could completely lose control.
and jisung didn’t need anything more.
his hips began moving without mercy. the rhythm snapped violently from slow to desperate, thrusts turning chaotic, knocking the air from your lungs. your body jolted with every impact, pleasure crashing through you in violent waves.
your nails scraped down his back, leaving burning trails across his skin while his fingers dug brutally into your hips. the wet sounds of your bodies filled the room obscenely, mixed with gasps, moans, and breathless curses.
jisung's necklace brushes against your skin, the cool metal being a ridiculous contrast to the inferno consuming your body. each swing of it sent tiny sparks of sensation across your overheated nerves.
“shit… look at me, y/n…” jisung whined.
his fingers tilted your jaw, forcing your gaze back to his. his face was a work of art. he looked wrecked, beautifully ruined. hair damp and clinging to his forehead, lips bitten raw, and eyes blown wide with pure pleasure.
“look what you do to me… completely fucked because of you…”
each thrust tore sounds from your throat you could no longer control. pleasure rose like an unstoppable, hot, and overwhelming wave.
“mmh– just like that… fuck, ji–” all the words dissolved into muffled, broken moans.
your body trembled violently beneath him, muscles tightening, pleasure spiraling uncontrollably higher.
the rhythm faltered, movements turning erratic, desperate. like both of you were tumbling toward an unavoidable edge.
“i’m so close…” he gasped against your ear.
your legs shook and your tummy tightened violently. your entire body coiled around the unbearable pressure building inside you.
"ji… ah– fuck–" you whimpered.
the world seemed to shrink at the overwhelming sensation of his cock filling you completely.
your entire body tightened and shattered. the orgasm ripped through you like a brutal electric shock, pleasure detonating violently, your back arching as a broken cry escaped from your lips.
jisung completely lost control seconds later.
a few sloppy, desperate thrusts, a strangled groan, and then he collapsed. your walls tightening mercilessly around him, clenching and dragging the orgasm straight out of him as he came hard inside you.
he fell beside you with a weary gasp that lasted longer than necessary. there he was. your dramatic, teasing, hopelessly clumsy jisung. you laughed softly, still gasping for air, weakly hitting his bare chest.
the silence afterward felt deafening. your ragged breaths merged into one, your hearts pounded, and your bodies trembled.
that is, until the beep of the washing machine completely broke the atmosphere, announcing that its cycle had ended.
you both remained silent for a few seconds. then turned to each other in perfect sync and burst out laughing. because obviously that had to happen right now.
jisung tried to sit up first. yes, he tried.
“shit- my legs!” he groaned, touching his legs dramatically.
you laughed loudly, nudging him with your foot and receiving a dirty look. from where you stood, the view was dangerously tempting. biting your lip, you slipped on his oversized graphic tee before he could reach it.
“you should move the laundry to the dryer, ji,” you teased playfully.
your fingers traced his bare back and a shiver immediately ran through his entire body.
he turned to look at you, smiling at the sight of you wearing his shirt, hair messy, expression thoroughly satisfied. he gently wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your head.
“when i get back… you wanna…?” he tilted his head suggestively.
you flopped back onto the bed, wiggling your brows as you tugged the hem of the shirt higher, revealing your thighs with a shameless grin. jisung let out a low whistle, leaning against the doorway, eyes dragging hungrily over your body.
“don’t think i’m gonna stop calling you a sore loser after this, baby,” you stuck your tongue out.
jisung rolled his eyes with a fond smile, like he already knew he was completely doomed when it came to you. as he walked toward the laundry room, he started laughing under his breath like he’d just heard the best joke of his life.
and watching him disappear down the hall, you could only think one thing.
jeongin was absolutely having a nervous breakdown when he found out.
synopsis: jisung is obsessed. you’re so perfect, so pretty—how could anyone blame him? he’s so certain that you’ve been used before, that you’ve been taken care of. that being said, you can only imagine the surprise he was in once he’s found out no one’s ever showed you what bliss feels like.
pairing: perv!sung x inexperienced f!reader
genre: smut, college au
contains: jisung being kinda gross + incredibly horny, soft dom!jisung, lots of kissing, biting, oral fixation, tit play, oral sex (f!receiving), pet names (baby, jagi, rockstar), coming untouched
word count: 6.3k
now playing: southbound - artemis
[a/n]: i LOVE this fic sm you don’t even understaaaand. alsooo i got a request a few days ago for dom!jisung, and i know this isn’t hard dom ji BUT that is coming soon, and i hope this is enough to satiate you while i get it done !! enjoy :D
jisung doesn’t remember the last the he’s listed so intently to someone talk.
honestly, jisung’s never really been one to actively listen, but fuck- there was just something about the way your lips move around each spoken word that makes it so ungodly difficult to pay attention to anything else.
it doesn’t help that he’s had his eyes on you for longer than he could remember. ever since the first day you strolled into to his music theory class at the start of the semester, jisung has been, for lack of better words,dying to get his hands on you.
there’s just this… itch whenever he’s around you. it’s bone deep, too far below the skin to be satisfied easily. you’re just so perfect— kind, funny without even trying. and don’t even get him started on how good you are in the recording studio. jisung didn’t even know he could get turned on from watching someone mix a beat. but hey, they say college is where you learn things, right?
and trust, jisung has learned a lot.
for example: jisung has learned that he’s a dirty fucking perv.
an example of the example: there have been numerous times when you’ve been ranting about how bullshit your biased professor is—how he never grades your work fairly no matter how hard you work on it—and jisung will sit there wondering if your as expressive in bed as you are here.
he hopes you are. god, he would lose his mind…
speaking of you in bed, jisung has thought of you with his hand down his pants more often than anyone would constitute as normal. but honestly, can you even blame him?
you laugh at his jokes with a smile that makes his chest tight, and you somehow manage to smell like vanilla and something sweeter every single time you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop screen.
it's honestly a miracle he hasn't combusted yet.
well, he has. many times, actually. but you get what he means.
but today? today is different.
today you're sitting cross-legged on his bed (his bed, jesus christ), textbook open in your lap as you complain about your latest assignment, and jisung is trying his absolute hardest to focus on his own textbook.
try as he might, all he can think about is how easy it would be to close the distance between you two. how easy it would be to kiss you, to make you let out pretty little noises, to force his cock down your throat and—
“hey ji,” you say suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. he sends a quick thank you to whatever higher being there may be that you hadn’t caught his staring. “can i talk to you about something?”
jisung looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with a grin as if he hadn’t just been picturing the 69 different ways (pun intended) he could get you to take him. “sure.”
he watches as you take a deep breath, clearly debating on following through on whatever subject was on your mind. when another second ticked by without a response he arched a brow, fixing you with a look in hopes it would push you to hurry up.
you see it and promptly stick your tongue out at him. you both smile. you let out another exhale.
"i, uh…" you start, and jisung notices the way your cheeks flush slightly. "i went on a date last night. it was nothing like, crazy, yknow? just something a friend of mind set up."
oh.
jisung's stomach drops.
awesome.
"oh yeah?" he manages, keeping his voice in a careful neutral even though he feels like he's been kicked in the chest by some fuckass kangaroo. “and how’d that go?"
does he actually care? hell no. is he trying to be a good friend? sure, keyword there being trying.
you fidget with the corner of your textbook. "it was… fine, i guess? he was nice enough. we got dinner, talked for a bit." you pause, and jisung watches as your blush deepens. "and then we, you know… went back to his place."
jisung's grip on his pen tightens. he's not sure he wants to hear this, but he can't exactly tell you to stop now.
"and?" he prompts, hating how strained his voice sounds.
you let out a frustrated sigh. "and it was… underwhelming? like, really underwhelming." you're not looking at him now, focused instead on picking at a loose thread on his comforter. "we fooled around a bit, and he seemed really into it, but i just… i don't know. i didn't feel much of anything."
"what do you mean?" he's not sure if the relief flooding through him makes him a terrible person or not. his vote is no.
"i mean…" you trail off, clearly embarrassed. "he tried, like, touching me and stuff. it just felt… weird? not bad, just- nothing special, i guess. and then when things got more intense, i just kind of laid there thinking about my grocery list."
despite everything, jisung lets out a laugh. it’s short, cut off by the glare you shot his way.
"and the worst part," you continue, voice getting quieter, "is that he finished and then just… rolled over and fell asleep. didn't even care if i, you know…" you let make a vague gesture with your hand to make up for your lack of words.
"if you came?" jisung supplies, watching you nod a moment later.
"yeah. that." you finally look up at him. "is it supposed to be like that? because if so, i really don't get what all the hype is about."
jisung feels something twist in his chest—something between anger at the asshole who couldn't be bothered to take care of you and a dangerous, selfish hope. "no," he says, and his voice comes out a little sharper than he intended. "it's definitely not supposed to be like that."
"really?" you raise a brow, tone unamused and doubtful.
"really," jisung confirms, and before he can stop himself, he adds, "if a guy can't even make sure you finish, he doesn't deserve to touch you in the first place."
you laugh, but it's a hollow sound. "i mean, i don't know if i'd even know the difference." you shrug, trying to play it off casually even though jisung can see the genuine frustration in your eyes. "it's not like i've ever… y’know. gotten off before."
a beat passes.
jisung blinks. "wait, what?"
"yeah," you say, picking at the thread again. "not from someone else, not from myself. nothing."
"but—" jisung stops himself, trying to process this information. "didn't you have a boyfriend in high school?"
"yeah, for like a year and a half," you confirm. "but that doesn't mean i came. we fooled around, sure, but it never really… went anywhere for me."
jisung feels like his brain is short-circuiting. you—perfect, beautiful you—have never experienced an orgasm? it seems almost criminal.
"i think maybe i'm just not built for it," you continue, voice small. "like, maybe i'm just… glitched or something. everyone talks about how amazing it is, but i just don't get it."
"you're not glitched," jisung says immediately, more forceful than necessary. you look up at him, surprised. "trust me, you're not. you just… haven't been with anyone who knows what they're doing."
"maybe," you say, though you don't sound convinced.
jisung swallows hard.
his heart is pounding, and he knows what he's about to say is probably crossing a line, but he can't seem to stop himself. "if you want a second opinion…" he starts, trying to keep his tone light even though his hands are shaking slightly. "i volunteer as tribute."
the silence that follows is deafening.
you stare at him, eyes wide, and jisung immediately wants to take it back—except he doesn't. not really.
“i-“ you start before choking on your own words. you blink at him a few times, trying to gauge how serious he’s being. “what?”
jisung realizes what hes just said and immediately feels his face heat up.
he holds up his hands in a gesture that's somewhere between defensive and pleading. "i mean- say we’re working in hypotheticals here, yeah?" he says quickly, voice pitching slightly higher than normal. "just, you know, theoretically speaking. if you wanted to figure out what works for you."
you're still staring at him, and jisung can't tell if you're about to laugh in his face or leave. probably both. definitely both.
"i just mean, you said you don't know what you like, right? so maybe—hypothetically—it would help to, i don’t know- explore that?? with someone you trust. who wouldn't be weird about it."
he pauses, then adds, "or weirder than i'm already being right now."
you let out a breath that might've be a laugh, and some of the tension in jisung's shoulders eases. at least you're not running for the door.
"okay," you say slowly, and jisung's heart jumps into his throat. "hypothetically speaking… what would that even look like?"
blood rushes to his dick so fast that he genuinely feel faint for a solid second or two.
this is happening. this is actually happening.
"well, uh," he clears his throat. "i guess first we'd need to figure out what you like. what feels good to you."
"i don't know what i like," you point out. "that's kind of the whole problem here."
"right, but like-" jisung stands, taking a gamble by moving from the floor to sit with you on the bed. he takes the edge, but still manages to get close enough that his knee almost touches yours. he has half the thought of cheering when you don’t immediately jolt away. "there has to be something. like, when you think about… that stuff. what do you think about?"
your blush deepens as you look away. jisung wants to grab you by the cheeks and shove his tongue down your throat.
"i don't know. i guess i don't really think about it much."
"okay, but when you do," jisung presses, far too eager "what's the first thing that comes to mind? is it like… hands? mouths? something else?"
"i- i guess mouths? that’s a stupid way to put it, jisung." your eyes dart over to him for all of two seconds before flicking away again. “i like being kissed. and when people leave marks.”
jisung’s going to bust in his sweats.
he nods slowly, stashing away the information for it’s inevitable later use. "okay. that's good. that's a start." he pauses before asking "what about where? where would you wanna be kissed?"
your head tilts to the side slightly as you debate. it takes a minute for you to make up your mind, a minute that jisung’s spends memorizing the curve of your lips.
“my thighs. i like my neck and my tits, too, but my thighs.”
ok. scratch what he said before. he’s actually going to pass out, wake up for two seconds to jerk off, and then pass out again from how intense it’ll be.
“fuck” he breaths out with a laugh—half breathless humor, half utter strain. jisung raises a hand to run down his face, looking away from you to try and save himself even a little bit.
"okay," he says once he's collected himself enough to form coherent words. "okay, so, hypothetically, if we were doing this, i'd start there. with your thighs." he looks back at you, trying his best to gauge your reaction. "would that be… okay?"
jisung watches the way your eyes skim over him and highly considers throwing himself off the roof of his dorm when your gaze catches on the tent in his sweat pants.
“i like it more when people work their way down.” you meet his eye again and he feels his dick twitch to attention.
jisung's mouth goes dry. the casual way you say it—like you're discussing the weather and not actively trying to kill him—makes his head spin.
"work my way down," he repeats li. "from your neck?"
“my mouth.” you correct.
it takes a few seconds for jisung’s brain to catch up to what you were saying. when ir finally registered, jisung let out a heavy breath.
“y-you want me to kiss you?”
"i mean… yeah?" you say, and there's a hint of uncertainty in your voice. "isn't that where you're supposed to start?"
jisung lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. "yeah, no, you're right. i just-" he stops himself, looking at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. "i just need to know you're actually okay with this. like, seriously okay. because once i start, i don't know if i'll be able to stop."
despite everything making up your current situation, you can’t help the laugh that pushes itself from your lips.
“jesus, sung- please don’t tell me you learned that from a bad porno.”
jisung's face flushes, but he can't help the grin that tugs at his lips. "fuck off," he mutters, but there's no real heat behind it. "i'm trying to be respectful here."
"i know," you say, and your expression softens. "and i appreciate it. but i'm serious, jisung. i want this. hypothetically, of course.”
jisung doesn't waste another second.
he closes the distance between you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other braces against the mattress beside your hip. his thumb brushes along your cheekbone, and for a moment he just looks at you—really looks at you—trying to memorize every detail of your face before he gets what he's been craving for so long.
"tell me to stop if you need to," he murmurs, knowing damn well he won't be able to give this up. not now. not when you're looking at him like that.
he closes the gap completely, pressing his lips to yours.
and god, you're even better than he imagined.
and trust, he's imagined this—fuck, has he imagined this. a thousand times, maybe more. but none of his fantasies come close to the real thing. your mouth is soft and warm, and the little sound you make when he deepens the kiss goes straight to his cock.
you make that sound again—that small, needy noise in the back of your throat—and jisung responds on instinct, tilting your head slightly to get a better angle.
his tongue traces the seam of your lips, and when you open for him, he can't help the groan that escapes. he groans—actually groans—into your mouth, and he'd be embarrassed if he could think straight.
but he can't. because this is intoxicating. you’re intoxicating.
the way you taste, sweet and perfect. the way his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair like they were made to be there. the way his other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely any space left between your bodies and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest.
you've been kissed before, he knows that,but jisung wants to make you forget every single one of those losers you’d had before him. wants this to be the one you remember.
he puts everything into it, every press of his lips deliberate, purposeful, trying to learn exactly what makes you melt against him.
he knows he’s reached some sort of heaven when he feels you starting to go pliant in his hands.
jisung pulls back just enough to catch his breath, resting his forehead against yours. his eyes are dark, blown wide. he can feel how swollen his lips are already.
"fuck," he breathes, voice absolutely wrecked. "you taste so good." he doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s kissing you again, harder than before.
leave it to jisung to get turned on by how sweet your spit tastes.
his hand tightens in your hair—not enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp—and takes full advantage of how your lips part, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes him dizzy with want.
you grab onto his shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric, and jisung feels like he might actually lose his mind.
everything about this is overwhelming in the best possible way—the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you respond when his thumb strokes the sensitive skin at your nape, the little sounds you make as you kiss him back just as eagerly. he wants to catalog every single detail, burn it into his memory so it’s humanly impossible to forget.
his hand on your waist starts to wander, sliding down to your hip and squeezing. it isn’t a rough gesture, more so just to ground himself, to remind himself that this is all real. that this isn’t just another one of his twisted dreams.
he breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the spot just below your ear that makes you shiver.
"tell me if this is okay," he murmurs against your skin. he gets a strange high from the way your quickens pulse under his lips.
"it's okay," you manage, voice breathier than usual. "it's really okay."
jisung makes a satisfied sound deep in his throat, then goes back to kissing you properly. this time he forces himself to slow down, to be more deliberate.
he takes his time exploring your mouth, learning the way you respond to him—the way you whimper when he sucks on your bottom lip, the way you smile against his mouth when he does something you particularly like.
"you're so fucking cute," he mumbles, pulling back just enough to look at you. his eyes are soft, a little to innocent for the way he’s currently handling you. "been wanting to do this for so long."
"yeah?"
"fuck yeah," he responds with a laugh that’s only slightly crazed.
you never get the chance to ask exactly how long he's wanted this, how many nights he's fallen asleep thinking about it—about you. and honestly? you aren’t even sure you’d want that answer. it feels to heavy, too weighted with significance.
minutes pass. you’re not sure how many, neither is jisung. all you know is that he kisses you until your lips feel bruised under his and his head is spinning from lack of oxygen.
his hands roam more carefully now—not respectful, but not outright pushy. there’s enough intent in each brush that you can feel the restrained want in every touch. he palms your hip, traces the curve of your waist, thumbs at the silver of skin where your shirt has ridden up.
when he finally pulls away, you're both breathing hard.
his hair is a mess from where you've been running your fingers through it. when he catches sight of your lips—red and swollen from his kisses—he has to physically restrain himself from crashing back into you again
"we should…" he starts, then stops. he swallows hard. "we should probably slow down."
you blink at him, still a little dazed. "why?"
"because if we don't, i'm gonna fucking come in my pants," jisung admits with a breathless laugh. it's embarrassing but true—he's already painfully hard, and every little sound, every shift, brings him closer to that edge.
the way you're looking at him makes his chest tight. at the same time though, he's acutely aware of how you're still pressed against him, addicted to the heat radiating off your body.
"what if i don't want you to slow down?" you ask, and the boldness in your voice very nearly enough to do him in on the spot.
"don't say shit like that unless you mean it."
"i do," you say, and then you're leaning in and kissing him again.
this time, jisung doesn't hold back. he kisses you like he's trying to devour you, one hand sliding up your back to press you closer while the other grips your hip hard enough to leave marks. you can probably feel how hard he is, pressed against your thigh, and the knowledge that you know how badly he wants you makes his head spin.
you shift slightly, and jisung groans into your mouth, his hips jerking forward before he can stop himself. "fuck," he gasps, breaking the kiss. "you're gonna kill me."
"good," you manage, then kiss him again before he can respond.
jisung lets out a breathless laugh against your lips before shifting his weight, gently pushing you back until you're lying on the bed with him hovering over you.
the new position makes everything feel more intense—the way he's pressed between your thighs in a way that lets you feel how hard he is, the way his weight settles over you, the way you're looking up at him like he's the only thing in the world that matters.
"hi," he says, grinning down at you despite how wrecked he feels.
"hi," you echo, and the smile you give him back makes his heart stutter.
and then his lips are on yours yet again .
his mouth moves against yours with an ease that surprises him—like he's already learned exactly what makes you gasp and whimper. when he nips at your bottom lip, you arch up against him, and jisung makes a choked sound in response, barely holding himself together.
"you're so responsive," he murmurs against your mouth. "so fucking perfect. just how i thought you'd be."
his hand slides up your side, thumbing just under the curve of your breast, and jisung realizes with startling clarity that he needs more. needs to feel your skin against his, needs to map every inch of your body with his hands and mouth.
as if reading his mind, you reach up and push at his shoulder, urging him downward. "you said you'd work your way down, remember?"
jisung's breath catches and for a moment he just stares at you. a slow grin spreads across his face—the kind he knows is absolutely devastating.
"yeah," he says, voice rough. "yeah, i did say that, didn't i?"
he leans down to kiss you one more time, slow and deep, savoring it. promptly after, he starts trailing his lips along your jaw, taking his time. he presses open-mouth kisses to every inch of skin he can reach, committing the taste of your skin to memory.
when he gets to the spot just below your ear, he pauses for only a moment before taking the skin there between his teeth, sucking a mark into the sensitive patch.
you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair enough for jisung to make a satisfied sound. "gonna mark you up so good," he murmurs against your neck, lips hot as they brush against your skin. "want everyone to know you're mine."
the possessiveness in his own voice should probably alarm him, but he's too far gone to care.
you tilt your head to give him better access, and jisung takes full advantage, working his way down your neck with single-minded focus. this is all he's been dreaming about—getting to worship you like this, getting to make you feel good.
he sucks another mark just above your collarbone, then soothes it with his tongue. the whimper you make goes straight to his cock. jisung smiles against your skin.
"you sound so pretty," he says, voice muffled against your neck. "wanna hear what other sounds you make, jagi"
his hand comes up to rest on your ribs, thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. when you arch into the touch jisung can’t help his groan, pressing his hips down against yours just because he can.
the friction makes you both gasp.
"fuck," comes his his, the word hot on your skin as he continues his path downward.
jisung kisses along your collarbone, then down to the neckline of your shirt. he pauses there, looking up at you with eyes that are wide and begging. "can i?"
instead of granting him with a verbal answer, you reach down and grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.
jisung's eyes go wide, gaze immediately dropping to your chest.
over the span of five seconds, jisungs mouth goes from being as dry as a desert to his throat bobbing as he swallows down his own spit.
"holy shit.." he whispers, voice dripping with reverence. his hands come up to cup your breasts over your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric. "you're so fucking... fuck, baby- your perfect"
you squirm under the attention, and jisung only takes it as encouragement. he leans down to press his face between to the swell of your breasts, a groan rolling soft in the back of his throat before kissing down to your sternum. his hands stay on you, kneading mindlessly and without much care.
jisung thinks he might actually be in heaven.
and then you’re thread your fingers through his hair again pushing, deliberately, purposefully, until his face is buried in your chest.
jisung groans loud this time, breath coming out hot against your skin. "so eager," he murmurs in pure appreciation, a hand sliding around to your back to find the clasp of your bra. "what a rockstar- i fucking love it."
you arch to help him and jisung makes quick work of the clasp, tossing the fabric across the room without a second thought.
for a moment, jisung just stares.
his eyes are wide with hunger as they trace over your newly exposed skin. he's imagined this so many times, but nothing compares to actually seeing you like this.
then he's leaning down, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses across your chest, hands coming up to cup your breasts properly now that that last barrier is gone.
"so fucking perfect," he breathes against your skin, thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch up into his touch.
"god, i could live between your tits," jisung breathes out, voice rough rough around the edges while his hands continue to knead at you. "been thinking about this for months—how they'd feel in my hands, how they'd look covered in my cum, how fucking perfect they'd look bouncin’ in my face while you ride me." he groans, burying his face between them again like he can't help himself. "never gonna take my hands off of ya, jagi. can’t do it…"
then he takes one nipple into his mouth, and the cry you let out nearly makes him come on the spot.
jisung circles the sensitive bud with his tongue before sucking hard enough to make you writhe beneath him. his other hand works your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger in a rhythm that matches his mouth.
he gets so lost in it that he almost forgets he isn’t dreaming. the only thing that snaps him back is the sound of his name on your lips.
"jisung," you gasp, and he hums in response, the vibration making you shudder beneath him.
he switches sides, giving your other breast the same devoted attention.
jisung can feel himself getting harder with every passing second, can feel how wet you must be through the fabric still between you. your thighs squeeze around his hips, and jisung grinds down against you in response, unable to help himself.
but the friction isn't enough—not for either of you—and when you roll your hips in a search for more, jisung breaks away from your chest with a sharp inhale.
his forehead drops to rest against your sternum as he tries to catch his breath and regain some semblance of control.
"you're driving me insane," he mutters, voice strained. his hands slide down your sides, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. he looks up at you, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, barely holding himself together. "can i take these off?"
"please," you breathe, and jisung doesn't need to be told twice.
he sits back on his heels, making quick work of your pants and underwear in one smooth motion.
the cool air hits your heated skin, and jisung's hands are immediately there, warm and grounding as they run up your thighs. he takes a moment to just look at you—all of you—spread out on his bed, and he thinks he might actually die from want.
"fuck," he says, voice raw. he drags a thumb through your folds "look at you. so wet already."
the embarrassment that flashes across your face makes jisung's chest tighten. he immediately leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your knee. "don't," he says gently, meaning it. "don't be embarrassed. this is so fucking hot. you're so fucking hot."
his hands massage your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, and blacks out when you just let him.
the sight of you all vulnerable and trusting, turned on and willing, is almost too much. he settles between your legs, and the reality that he's finally here, that this is actually happening, sends a sick thrill through him.
"i'm gonna make you feel so good," jisung promises, his breath ghosting over your inner thigh, pressing a lingering kiss there. he means it with everything in him. "gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name."
he continues with pressing kisses to yout thigh, taking his sweet time even though every instinct is screaming at him to rush. every press of his lips against your skin makes his own arousal spike higher, and by the time he reaches the crease where your thigh meets your hip, jisung's hands are shaking.
"jisung," you whimper, and the sound goes straight to his cock.
"i know, baby," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hip bone. "just wanna savor this. been dreamin’ bout having you like this."
he presses one more kiss to your hip bone, and then—finally, finally—jisung lets himself taste you properly.
his tongue slides through your folds in one long, slow lick, and the taste of you combined with the way your back arches off the bed, pussy pressing to his face, makes him moan.
"oh my god," you gasp, hands flying down to tangle in his hair.
jisung moans again, the sound vibrating through your core. "taste so fucking good," he mumbles, addicted. then he goes back to work with the single minded focus of making good on his promise.
he eats you out like it's his sole purpose in life—because right now, it is.
jisung’s been starving for this, and now that he finally has you, jisung loses himself completely.
his tongue circles your clit before he sucks it between his lips, and the way you respond? the sounds you make? the way your hips rock up against his face? it’s better than anything he's ever imagined.
and believe him, he’s imagined.
jisung's hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he works you over, trying to memorize every sound, every reaction. when he slides one finger inside you, slow and careful, you cry out, fingers tightening almost painfully in his hair.
"that okay?" he asks, pulling back just enough to speak.
when your eyes meet his you’re met with the sight of his face glistening with you, lips swollen and chin shiny. you have to swallow down a whine before you can mutter a small “fuck, yes, please-“
jisung grins—he can't help it—then goes back to sucking on your clit while his finger pumps in and out of you. the dual sensation is overwhelming for the both of you, albeit for wildly different reasons. for you, it’s the way he uses his tongue so fucking well, the wet, warm heat pressing flat against your clit so you can grind against his face to chase your own stimulation. for him? it’s how fucking sweet you are, how your walls flutter when he hits that spot that’s always just a little too far for you to reach on your own.
"jisung," you gasp. "i think- i think i'm—"
"yeah?" he purrs, adding a second finger and curling them in a way that leaves you breathless and seeing stars. "gonna come for me, rockstar? gonna come all over my fingers?"
the words combined with the relentless pleasure seem to push you right to the edge. when jisung takes your clit between his lips again, sucking hard, you fall apart, and jisung thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful.
your orgasm crashes over you in waves, waves jisung does his best to help work you through. his own pleasure spikes high as he watches you come undone.
your whole body seems to tense, thighs clamping around his head as you shake with aftershocks of it. he can hear you making noise—probably too much noise considering dorm walls are comically thin—but he fucking loves it, wants to hear it again and again.
jisung gentles his movements as you come down, not stopping until you're pushing at his head because it's too much, too sensitive.
he presses one last kiss to your swollen clit before sitting up, looking just as wrecked as you do. his hair a mess, lips swollen and wet, and he’s looking at you like you hung the damn moon. because fuck, that was the hottest thing he's ever done. sue him.
"holy shit," you breathe, and jisung feels a surge of satisfaction at how completely undone you look.
jisung crawls back up your body, pressing kisses to your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts, before finally reaching your mouth. he kisses you deep, tongue sliding against yours in attempt to get you to taste yourself too.
"good?" he asks when he pulls back, and there's something vulnerable in the question. he needs to know you felt as good as he thinks you did, that he didn't disappoint you.
"so good," you assure him, reaching up to cup his face. "that was… i've never-"
"i know," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your palm. pride blooms warm in his chest. "first time for everything, right?"
you nod, still a little dazed, and jisung smiles. it's different from his earlier grins—softer, more genuine.
it’s only when he shifts his weight in discomfort that you realize how there’s still a devilish tent in his sweats. he catches the way your eyes drop, and immediately try and brush it off.
"don't worry bout me," he manages, even though his voice is strained and every nerve in his body is screaming for more.
"what about you?" you ask, and then your hand is on him, palming him through the fabric. jisung hisses, hips jerking forward into your touch before he can stop himself.
"i want to," you insist when he doesn’t reply, squeezing gently, and jisung nearly blacks out.
"baby- baby, fuck—" jisung whines, his hand shooting down to wrap around your wrist. he pushes your hand away as his head falls forward, sucking in heavy breaths between his teeth. he can feel the wet patch spreading across the front of his sweats, the aftermath of what just happened.
"i already- i already came, baby-"
you blink, processing his words. "you… already?"
jisung lets out a breathless laugh, cheeks flushing pink as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. he's embarrassed but also not because holy shit it was the most ‘worth it’ thing he’s ever done in his life.
"couldn't help it," he mumbles against your skin, words muffled. "you tasted so fucking good, and the sounds you were making?? fuck jagi, i didn't stand a chance."
your hands slowly raise to thread through the strands of his hair as if it wasn’t mussed up enough, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. jisung practically purrs at the touch.
"that's really hot, actually," you admit.
jisung lifts his head to look at you, searching your expression for any sign of disappointment or disgust. but all he sees is warmth, and something tender that makes his heart skip. "yeah?"
"yeah," you confirm, pulling him down for a slow, deep kiss. when you break apart, you're both smiling, and jisung feels something settle in his chest. it feels a lot like contentment.
"we should probably clean up," jisung murmurs after a moment, though he makes no move to actually get up. he's too comfortable like this, wrapped around you, feeling your heartbeat slowly return to normal beneath him.
"probably," you agree, but you don't move either.
jisung chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "give me like, five minutes. then i'll get us a towel."
"five minutes," you repeat, fingers still playing with his hair in that way that makes him want to fall asleep right here.
but after a moment, reality starts creeping back in. jisung shifts, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable dampness in his boxers. "okay, actually i really need to change like, right now."
you laugh he reluctantly pulls away, watching as he stands on slightly shaky legs. you watch him with hooded eyes as he strips off his ruined sweats and boxers, tossing them into his laundry basket before grabbing a clean pair of sweatpants from his drawer.
"here," he says, pulling out one of his oversized hoodies and tossing it to you. "you can wear this if you want."
you slip it on while jisung grabs a damp towel from his bathroom.
he comes back to find you sitting up, his hoodie falling to your mid-thigh, and he has to take a moment to breathe and not pounce on you like a wild animal and fuck you right then and there.
"c'mere," he says softly, sitting beside you. he gently cleans you up, his touch careful and intimate in a different way than before. when he's done, he tosses the towel aside and pulls you back against him.
"soooo, that was..."
"yeah," jisung agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "it really was."
ɞ . abstract. they’re used to sharing their lives with the world, but they aren't interested in sharing you. eight times the members reminded a stranger exactly where the line was drawn.
ɞ . warnings / tags. fluff. suggestive. jealous!skz. established relationship. possessive & territorial behavior. intimidation of others. unwanted attention/harassment. encroachment on personal space. mentions of alcohol/drinking.
BANG CHAN
the studio was crowded, way more crowded than it usually was during a late-night tracking session. you were perched on the edge of the leather sofa, tucked into the corner with a drink in your hand, while the rest of the guys milled around. it was supposed to be a low-key wrap party for the new album, but some of the producers had brought friends, and the room felt small.
chan was across the room, leaning over the console with changbin and a couple of senior engineers. he looked good—focused, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pencil tucked behind his ear—but you could tell he was keeping one eye on the door and one eye on you. he always did that. he called it being a good host, but you knew it was just his nature to keep track of his people.
"so, how long have you known the group?"
you blinked, pulling your gaze away from chan to look at the guy who had just sat down next to you. he was one of the guest track-makers, someone you’d seen a few times but never really spoken to. he was leaning in close, his arm draped over the back of the sofa, effectively carving out a little bubble for the two of you.
"oh, a long time," you said, offering a polite smile. "i’ve been friends with chan since before the debut."
"lucky guy," he chuckled, his eyes scanning your face in a way that felt a little too lingering. "i can see why he keeps you around. you’ve got a really great energy." he introduces himself, giving you some name that you can't recall. can't bother to.
he didn't pull back. if anything, he shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. you tried to shift subtly, but the sofa was deep, and there wasn't much room to move. "thanks," you murmured, taking a sip of your drink to avoid further conversation.
"you know," he continued, lowering his voice to a tone that was definitely meant to be intimate. "we’re headed to an after-party at a club nearby in about twenty minutes. chan’s probably going to stay here and obsess over the master tracks for another five hours. you should come with us. i'd love to actually get to know you without all this noise."
he reached out then, his fingers grazing your forearm as if to emphasize the invitation.
before you could even open your mouth to decline, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you didn't even have to look up to know chan had noticed. you could feel the weight of his stare from across the room.
a second later, the heavy footsteps approached. chan didn't walk over; he converged.
"everything okay here?"
chan’s voice was low, smooth as silk but with a jagged edge underneath that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he didn't wait for an answer. he stepped right into the narrow space between the coffee table and the couch, placing a firm, heavy hand on your shoulder. his thumb rubbed against the base of your neck in a slow, possessive rhythm.
the man pulled his hand back quickly, clearing his throat. "oh, yeah. just inviting your friend here to the after-party. you’re probably too busy to go, right?"
chan tilted his head, a small, tight smile playing on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. he looked incredibly calm, but the grip on your shoulder tightened just enough for you to feel the tension vibrating through him.
"actually," chan said, his voice dropping an octave, sounding like that deep tone he got when he was serious. "we have our own plans. and i’m never too busy for her."
he looked down at you then, his expression softening for a split second before he cut his eyes back to the other man. the look was icy—a clear, unspoken warning that said you're overstepping.
"is that right?" he stammered, looking between the two of you. "i didn't realize... i mean, i thought you guys were just..."
"we're a lot of things," chan interrupted, his voice steady. "but available isn't one of them. you should probably go find your group, man. i think they're leaving."
it wasn't a suggestion. he got the message, mulling out a quick "right, see ya" before making a beeline for the door.
the moment he was gone, the room seemed to regain its oxygen. chan didn't move his hand. he let out a long, ragged exhale, his shoulders finally dropping from their defensive hunch. he turned toward you, his eyes dark and swirling with a mix of leftover adrenaline and something that looked a lot like guilt.
"sorry," he muttered, though he didn't sound particularly sorry. "he was being... a lot."
"channie," you said softly, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. "were you jealous?" you don't bother to hide the teasing lilt in your voice.
he let out a dry, sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. he looked away for a moment, watching the door where the guy had disappeared. "was it that obvious?"
"you looked like you were about to growl," you giggle.
chan stepped closer, moving until he was standing between your knees, his presence completely enveloping you. he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.
"i don't like the way he was looking at you," he confessed, his voice a rough whisper. "and i definitely didn't like him touching you. i know i shouldn't be so... yeah. i know you can handle yourself."
he paused, his fingers sliding up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing your lower lip.
"but the thought of someone else taking you away from here—even for an hour? i can't handle it. you're the only thing in this room that keeps me sane, okay? i'm selfish. i want you right where i can see you."
you smiled, pulling him down by his collar until your foreheads rested together. "i wasn't going anywhere, channie. i like it right here."
he hummed, a deep sound in his chest, and finally let out a real smile—the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "good. because i’m done with work for the night. let’s get out of here before someone else tries to talk to you."
he pulled you up from the sofa, his fingers interlacing tightly with yours, refusing to let go even as he grabbed his jacket. he led you out of the studio, his body positioned slightly in front of yours, a silent shield against the rest of the world.
LEE KNOW
the dance studio was freezing, the air conditioning humming a low, mechanical tune that usually helped minho focus. but today, his focus was completely shot. he was leaning against the mirrored wall, a towel draped over his shoulders, watching you talk to one of the new backup dancers near the sound system.
minho didn't do loud jealousy. he didn't storm over or start a scene. he was more surgical than that. he just watched, his eyes narrowed, tracking every movement.
the guy—some kid who was way too confident for his first week—was laughing, leaning a little too close to you. he reached out to adjust the strap of your bag that was slipping off your shoulder, his fingers lingering on your skin a second too long.
you were just being friendly, smiling at his jokes, but minho’s jaw tightened. he felt that familiar, sharp prickle of irritation. he hated when people didn't know their boundaries, especially when those boundaries involved you.
"so, you're here every tuesday?" the dancer asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "maybe i could take you to that cafe downstairs after we wrap? i heard their lattes are actually decent. or, you know, we could always go anywhere else, too."
minho didn't wait for you to answer. he pushed off the wall, his sneakers squeaking sharply against the wood floor. the sound was intentional.
he didn't say a word as he walked over. he simply stepped into your space, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. it wasn't a gentle hug; it was a firm, grounding weight that made it very clear where you belonged.
the dancer jumped slightly, his eyes widening as he looked up—and up—at minho.
"she’s busy," minho said. his voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, which was always when he was the most dangerous. he didn't look at the guy; he just stared at your reflection in the mirror across the room, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder.
"oh, i—we were just talking about coffee," the guy stammered, his confidence evaporating under minho’s cold gaze.
"get your own coffee," minho replied, his tone clipped. "and get back to the floor. chan wants to run the bridge again in five minutes. don't be late."
it was a dismissal, plain and simple. the guy scrambled away, practically tripping over his own feet to get to the other side of the room.
the second he was gone, minho’s grip relaxed slightly, but he didn't let go. he turned you around in his arms, his expression still unreadable, though his ears were tinged with a faint, stubborn pink.
"you're scary when you do that," you whispered, reaching up to smooth the stray hairs on his forehead.
"i wasn't doing anything," he mumbled, looking away. "he was just annoying. talking too much."
"he was just asking for coffee, minnie."
minho’s eyes flicked back to yours, sharp and intense. "i don't care what he was asking for. he was touching you. i don't like it."
he let out a small, frustrated huff, his fingers digging into the fabric of your hoodie. minho wasn't big on emotional confessions, but in the quiet of the studio, with the rest of the members occupied at the far end, he let the mask slip just a fraction.
"i know i’m difficult," he said, his voice dropping so low you had to lean in to hear him. "i know i don't say the right things all the time. but you're mine. and i’m not good at sharing."
it was the closest you’d get to an 'i love you' in a moment like this—a raw, possessive honesty that felt more real than any flowery speech.
"i'm not going anywhere," you promised, leaning your head against his chest. "you know that."
"i do," he whispered, finally letting a small, smug smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. he pressed a quick, firm kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, his usual cool exterior snapping back into place. "now go sit down. you’re distracting me, and if i mess up this choreo, i’m blaming you."
he swatted your shoulder playfully, ushering you back to the bench, but as he walked back to the center of the floor, he caught the eye of the new dancer.
minho didn't say anything, but the look he gave him—cold, steady, and utterly territorial—made sure the kid didn't look your way for the rest of the afternoon.
CHANGBIN
the gym was mostly empty, the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the rubber mats the only thing breaking the silence. changbin loved this time of night—the overhead lights were dimmed, and he could actually breathe without people hovering.
he was currently finishing a set on the bench press, his muscles strained and glistening under the low light, while you sat nearby on a weight bench, scrolling through your phone and occasionally cheering him on.
everything was fine until a guy from the late-shift training staff wandered over. he was big, almost as big as changbin, and he had that swagger of someone who knew exactly how much he could lift.
"hey, mind if i hop in for a set?" the guy asked, but he wasn't looking at changbin. he was looking at you.
changbin sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. he didn't miss the way the trainer’s eyes dragged over you, or the way he puffed out his chest a little more as he stepped into your peripheral vision.
"just finished," changbin said, his voice coming out a bit rougher than usual. he didn't stand up yet; he just sat there, arms resting on his knees, watching.
"cool, cool," the guy said, turning fully toward you. "i haven't seen you around here before. you a member or just lucky enough to watch the show?" he flashed a grin that was clearly meant to be charming, leaning one hand against the rack right next to your head.
you looked up, giving him a small, polite nod. "i'm just waiting for him to finish."
"well, if you ever get bored of waiting, i'm usually here around this time. i could show you a few things. you look like you've got good potential for some real strength training." he chuckled, his voice dropping into a lower register.
he didn't move his hand. he stayed leaning over you, his shadow completely covering where you sat.
changbin didn't say anything at first. he just stood up. slow. deliberate.
when changbin stood, he looked massive. the pump from his workout made him look twice his usual size, and the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to make the air in the room feel heavy. he walked over, not stopping until he was standing directly behind you, his presence looming like a mountain.
he didn't shove the guy. he didn't have to. he just reached out and placed a heavy, solid hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tangling slightly in your hair. it was a grounding, heavy touch—one that claimed every inch of the space around you.
"she’s good," changbin said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate in the floorboards. "she’s got the best trainer in the city. she doesn't need another one."
mark’s smile faltered. he looked at changbin, then at the way changbin’s hand was draped over you, his thick arm practically acting as a barrier. the power dynamic in the room shifted instantly.
"oh, yeah, no doubt," he stammered, taking a half-step back. "just being friendly, man. no harm meant."
"right. friendly," changbin repeated, his voice dry. he didn't blink. he just stared until the guy started to look physically uncomfortable. "we're done here anyway. go ahead and take the bench. it’s all yours."
mark didn't stay to chat. he muttered something about a good workout and practically scrambled to the other side of the gym.
changbin let out a sharp, hot breath. the tension in his jaw didn't fade immediately. he looked down at you, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, his expression a mix of irritation and something softer that he tried to hide behind a scowl.
"you're all red," you teased gently, reaching up to touch his arm. "was he that bothering?"
changbin grunted, finally sitting back down next to you, though he kept his arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side. "i don't like it. i don't like the way he was hovering. like he was waiting for me to look away for one second."
"binnie, i wasn't going to go anywhere with him."
he looked at his lap, his fingers subconsciously flexing. "i know that. i do. but..." he trailed off, his voice losing its aggressive edge and turning into something much more vulnerable. "it’s just... i work so hard to be strong, to be someone you can rely on. and then some guy walks up and acts like he can just talk to you like that? it pisses me off."
he turned his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck for a second, his breath hot against your skin. changbin was all bravado and muscle on the outside, but with you, he was always just a guy who was terrified of losing the one thing that made him feel soft.
"i know, i know. i'm selfish," he mumbles against your skin. "i want everyone to know that you're with me. i want them to see me and realize they don't even have a chance. is that bad?"
"it's not bad," you whispered, leaning your head against his. "it's just you. it's also, like... really hot."
he pulled back, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through the scowl. he leaned in, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to your temple before standing up and pulling you with him.
"come on," he said, his voice back to its usual confident tone, though he didn't let go of your hand. "let’s go get food. if i stay here any longer, i'm going to end up staring that guy down until he quits his job."
he led you out of the gym, his chest puffed out just a little bit more than usual, his grip on your hand tight and unshakable. he walked you to the car, and even as he opened the door for you, he shot one last look back at the gym windows—just to make sure the message had been received.
HYUNJIN
the gallery was hushed, the kind of quiet that made you feel like you had to whisper even if you weren't saying anything important. the walls were covered in abstract pieces that looked like explosions of color, and you were currently squinting at one particularly confusing canvas. you couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a sunset over the ocean or just a very vibrant bowl of fruit.
hyunjin had wandered off a moment ago to look at a charcoal sketch in the far corner, leaving you to your own devices. usually, he walked right beside you, his hand resting in the small of your back, murmuring his own interpretations into your ear. those were your favorite moments—hearing him talk about brushstrokes and color theory in that soft, passionate way of his. it was the best way to spend a date.
"it’s the duality of existence, don't you think?"
you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts as a random guy stepped into your space. he was dressed in a turtleneck that looked way too tight and was holding a brochure like it was a holy text. he didn't wait for you to respond before he kept going, leaning in closer than necessary.
"the artist is clearly grappling with the fleeting nature of light," he said, gesturing vaguely at the red splotch you thought might be a cherry. "most people just see the surface, but i bet you have an eye for this sort of depth. i can tell by the way you’re looking at it. you have that... artistic soul."
you bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to laugh. you didn't have an artistic soul; you were just wondering if the painter had been hungry when they made this. "oh, i'm not sure," you murmured, stepping back an inch. "i was just—"
"no, don't be modest," he interrupted, flashing a practiced, flirty grin. "i could spend the whole afternoon explaining the subtext of this wing to you. a girl like you shouldn't be wandering around such complex work without a guide."
he reached out, his hand hovering near your waist as if he were going to guide you toward the next painting.
"she already has a guide."
the voice was cool, smooth, and laced with a sharp underlying tension. you didn't even have to turn around to know hyunjin was back.
hyunjin didn't look at the guy at first. he kept his eyes on the painting, but his hand found yours instantly, his long fingers sliding between yours and squeezing tight. he didn't just hold your hand; he anchored you to him.
"actually," hyunjin said, finally turning his head to look at the man. his gaze was icy, his dark eyes narrowed in a way that made him look incredibly intimidating despite his beautiful features. "it’s not about the duality of existence. it’s a study on chaos. and she doesn't need you to explain depth to her."
the guy blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in atmosphere. "i was just offering some insight—"
"your insight is unsolicited," hyunjin cut him off, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone he used when he was genuinely annoyed. he stepped closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours, effectively erasing any gap the other man could have filled. "and your subtext is wrong. maybe read the artist's statement before you try to impress someone else’s girlfriend."
it was a total shut-down. the guy’s face turned a mottled red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he muttered something about "just being nice" and scurried off toward the sculpture garden.
hyunjin didn't watch him go. he turned to you immediately, his expression shifting from cold to pouting in a split second. he let out a dramatic sigh, dropping his forehead against your shoulder.
"i leave you alone for two minutes," he complained, his voice muffled. "two minutes, and someone is already trying to guide you."
"he was just being annoying, jinnie," you laughed, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "i was fine."
"he was touching your space," hyunjin muttered, pulling back to look at you. his eyes were still a little stormy, his jaw set in a stubborn line. he reached out, adjusting your scarf even though it was perfectly fine, just so he could have an excuse to touch you. "i don't like it. i don't like the way he was looking at you like you were part of the exhibit.”
he wrapped both arms around your waist then, pulling you flush against him right there in the middle of the gallery. hyunjin was always a bit dramatic, a bit more sensitive to the energy around him, and when he felt someone overstepping with you, he became incredibly territorial.
"you’re mine to explain paintings to," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "i’m the only one who gets to see your 'artistic soul,' okay?"
you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "okay. so, what is this one actually about then, mr. expert?"
hyunjin looked at the painting again—the one you thought was fruit. he went quiet for a second, his head tilting as he studied it. "honestly?" he whispered. "i think it’s a bowl of fruit. but i’m going to keep pretending it’s deep so we look more sophisticated than that guy."
you burst out laughing, and he joined you, his jealous mood finally melting away into that bright, beautiful smile you loved. he didn't let go of your hand for the rest of the day, leading you through the halls with his fingers locked firmly in yours, making sure everyone knew exactly who you were with.
HAN
the arcade was a chaotic mess of neon lights and overlapping synth music, exactly the kind of place jisung loved. you were currently focused on a racing game, your hands tight on the plastic steering wheel as you tried to beat the high score. jisung had gone to the counter to trade in a stack of tickets for some candy, leaving you alone at the machines for just a few minutes.
you were doing pretty well until a guy leaned against the side of your console. he was wearing a leather jacket and had a smirk that suggested he thought he was the best thing in the room.
"you’re taking that turn all wrong," he said, loud enough to be heard over the game’s sound effects. "you gotta drift earlier if you want the boost."
you didn't look up, eyes glued to the screen. "i'm doing fine, thanks."
"i'm just saying. i've got the top score on this cabinet," he continued, completely ignoring your brush-off. he shifted closer, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed at the screen. "here, let me show you. move over a bit and i'll handle the pedals for you."
the suggestion was weird and way too personal. you felt a surge of annoyance, but before you could tell him to get lost, a familiar presence appeared on your other side.
jisung didn't say anything at first. he just leaned in, dropping a heavy bag of sour candy onto the dash of the machine, right between you and the stranger. he didn't look like his usual hyper, joking self. his shoulders were tense, and his eyes were fixed on the guy with a look that was uncharacteristically sharp.
"she doesn't need help," jisung said. his voice wasn't loud, but it had a sudden, firm authority to it.
the guy blinked, looking jisung up and down. "just giving some tips, man. don't get worked up."
jisung stepped into the gap, effectively pushing the guy back by a few inches just by claiming the space. he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side so tightly that you had to let go of the wheel.
"she's winning," jisung noted, his voice dropping into that lower, slightly raspier tone he got when he was feeling protective. "and she’s winning without you hovering over her. so unless you’re planning on playing the machine next door, find somewhere else to hang out."
the guy looked like he wanted to argue, but the sheer, focused energy coming off jisung was enough to make him think twice. jisung wasn't the biggest guy in the room, but when he was set on protecting something, he had a way of making the air around him feel electric.
"whatever," the guy muttered, pushing off the machine and disappearing into the crowd near the air hockey tables.
the second he was out of sight, jisung’s posture deflated. he let out a long, shaky breath, burying his face in your shoulder for a second. he was still holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.
"hanji? you okay?" you asked, leaning your head against his.
"i hate idiots like him," he whispered, his voice muffled by your jacket. "idiots that act like they can just walk up and touch you. my heart started doing that weird thing where it feels like it’s vibrating."
you turned in his arms, seeing the faint flush on his cheeks. jisung dealt with a lot of anxiety, but when it came to you, his protective instincts usually managed to override his nerves—even if he felt the crash immediately afterward.
"you handled it perfectly," you said, reaching up to cup his face. "you were very cool."
jisung let out a small, embarrassed laugh, his eyes finally meeting yours. "i didn't feel cool. i felt like i was going to vibrate out of my skin. but then i saw him leaning on you and i just... i couldn't stay over at the counter. i don't like people in your bubble. that’s my bubble."
he pouted slightly, his thumb tracing the hem of your shirt. "i'm not good at the whole tough guy thing, but i really don't want anyone else thinking they can take my spot. is that too much?"
"no," you smiled, pulling him into a hug. "it's not too much."
jisung squeezed you back, his chin resting on your head. he stayed like that for a long moment, letting the noise of the arcade ground him again.
"okay," he said, pulling back with a sudden, forced burst of his usual energy, though he didn't let go of your hand. "now, move over. i'm going to beat your score and then i'm going to buy you a stuffed quokka with the rest of these tickets so everyone knows you’re taken by the best gamer in this building."
"i don't know if they'll have quokkas," you giggle.
"a squirrel, then!"
he spent the rest of the night glued to your side, his hand either in yours or resting on the small of your back, making sure that anyone who even looked in your direction knew exactly who you were with.
FELIX
the beach was beautiful, the salt air thick and warm as the sun began its slow dip toward the horizon. you were lounging on a wide striped towel, the sand still warm beneath you, while the sound of the waves provided a steady, rhythmic soundtrack. felix had been sitting with you for hours, his laughter ringing out every time a seagull got too close to your snacks, but he’d headed up to the boardwalk restrooms a few minutes ago.
you were closing your eyes, soaking in the last bit of the afternoon heat, when you felt the sand shift beside you.
"hey there. you look a little lonely for such a nice day."
you didn't notice the guy walking toward you until the sun was blocked out, casting a long shadow over your face. you squinted up, expecting to see felix, but it was someone else—a guy in board shorts with a surfboard tucked under his arm. he sat right down on the edge of your towel, kicking a bit of sand onto your book in the process.
"i'm fine, thanks," you said, sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest to create some distance. "my boyfriend just went to grab something."
the guy laughed, a slow, easy sound that felt entirely too confident. "boyfriend, huh? well, he's a lucky guy to leave someone like you alone on my beach. i’m a local—lived here my whole life. i know all the hidden spots, the ones the tourists don't know about. if you ever want a real tour of the coast, i could show you around."
he leaned back on his elbows, encroaching further into your space. his name rolls off his tongue, smooth and confident. too confident. "and... you are?"
"not interested," you replied, your voice firm, but he didn't seem to take the hint. he just grinned, looking you up and down in a way that made you feel exposed.
"come on, don't be like that. just a friendly offer from a local."
"she said she isn't interested."
the voice didn't sound like the felix most people knew. it wasn't the bright, bubbly tone you normally heard from him. it was deep—unnervingly deep—and it carried the weight of the ocean behind it.
felix was standing a few feet away, his silhouette sharp against the setting sun. he was wearing an open linen shirt and shorts, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, but his expression was anything but breezy. he looked down at the surfer with a cold, steady gaze that made the guy’s smile falter instantly.
felix didn't wait for a response. he walked over and stepped directly between you and the stranger, effectively shielding you with his body. he sat down right in the middle of the towel, his back to the guy, and pulled you into his lap. his arms wrapped around you, his chin hooking over your shoulder as he locked eyes with the surfer.
"you’re sitting on our towel," felix said. his voice was a low vibration against your back, the kind of sub-bass that you felt in your bones. "and you’re bothering her."
the surfer cleared his throat, suddenly looking much smaller than he had a moment ago. "man, i was just talking. no need to get aggressive."
"i'm not being aggressive," felix countered, his tone clipped and icy. "i’m telling you to leave. now. take your board and get out of here."
the guy scrambled up, grabbing his board and muttering something about "crazy tourists" before jogging off toward the water.
the second he was gone, the tension in felix’s frame snapped. he let out a jagged breath, his grip on you tightening. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his nose cold against your skin. he didn't move for a long time, just held you there while the waves crashed in the distance.
"lixie? you okay?" you whispered, reaching back to stroke his hair.
"no," he murmured, his voice muffled. "i wasn't even gone for that long. what a dipshit. can't even take no for an answer."
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. the usual spark was replaced by a raw, protective vulnerability. felix was usually the sweetest person you knew, but he had a territorial streak that came out whenever he felt like your safety or comfort was being threatened.
"i don't like being that guy," he admitted, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "the one who gets all possessive and weird. but when i see someone looking at you like that... like you're just something for them to win... it makes me feel like i’m losing my mind."
he sighed, his forehead dropping against yours. "i want to be the sunshine for you, always. but i’ll be the storm too, if i have to. i just want you to be safe."
you smiled, pulling his face closer to yours. "i’m always safe with you, baby. you don't have to worry. besides, it's very sexy."
his expression finally softened, a tiny, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your nose before leaning back, though he kept you tucked firmly under his arm.
"good," he whispered. "because i’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. we’re staying right here until the sun is completely gone."
he spent the rest of the evening exactly like that—glued to you, his hand never leaving yours, watching the horizon with a quiet, steady gaze that made it very clear to anyone passing by exactly who you belonged to.
SEUNGMIN
the bookstore was quiet, smelling of old paper and vanilla coffee. it was the kind of place where seungmin could spend hours, his eyes scanning spines with a focused intensity that you always found endearing. he’d spotted a specific edition of a poetry book he’d been hunting for and had disappeared into the back corner of the store, leaving you in the "new releases" section.
you were standing there, tilting your head at a row of thrillers, not exactly sure what you were looking for. you picked one up, reading the jacket blurb, when a guy stepped up beside you.
"that one’s a bit overhyped, honestly."
you looked over to see a guy who looked like he spent a lot of time in libraries—thick glasses, a slightly pretentious hoodie, and an air of confidence that felt a bit forced. he was leaning against the bookshelf, blocking your view of the next row.
"the pacing is all off in the second act," he continued, not waiting for you to ask. "if you want something with actual literary merit, you should be looking at the historical fiction section. i could walk you over there and give you some recommendations. a lot of people struggle with picking the right novel."
you gave a small, awkward laugh. "oh, i’m sure it’s fine. i just liked the cover."
"style over substance," he sighed, shaking his head with a condescending smile. "typical. look, i’ve got a pretty curated list of must-reads. if you give me your number, i can send you a few titles that are actually worth your time."
he leaned in a little closer, his hand reaching out as if to take the book from your hand to put it back on the shelf.
"she’s keeping that one."
seungmin’s voice was like a cold splash of water. it was sharp, precise, and completely devoid of his usual playful teasing. he appeared at your side, not with a flourish, but with a steady, quiet presence that immediately shifted the air in the aisle.
he didn't look at the guy at first. instead, he tucked the poetry book he’d found under his arm and reached out, taking the thriller from your hand and looking at the cover.
"it has a 4.2 rating on most platforms, and the prose is noted for being accessible yet punchy," seungmin said, his tone incredibly dry as he looked at the stranger. "but i’m sure your... curated list is much more impressive."
the guy blinked, his face flushing. "i was just offering some help. she seemed a bit lost."
"she isn't lost," seungmin replied. he didn't raise his voice, but there was a biting edge to it—the seungmin that the members were always wary of. he stepped into the space between you and the guy, his shoulder subtly pushing the stranger back an inch. "and if she wants a recommendation, she’ll ask someone who actually knows her taste. which isn't you."
the guy opened his mouth to say something, but seungmin just raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady and unimpressed. he looked like he was ready to dismantle the guy’s entire personality with a single sentence. the stranger clearly decided it wasn't worth the effort, turning and disappearing into the biography section.
the second he was gone, seungmin let out a quiet scoff. he didn't move away, though. he stayed right in your space, his hand sliding down to grip your wrist gently, his thumb rubbing against your pulse point.
"you were going to let him talk for ten more minutes, weren't you?" he asked, looking down at you. his ears were red, a tell-tale sign that he was much more bothered than he was letting on.
"i was just trying to be polite, min."
"you're too polite," he mumbled, his grip on your wrist tightening just a fraction before he pulled you closer to his side. "he was being a condescending prick. and he was trying to get your number right in front of me. well, almost in front of me."
seungmin let out a frustrated sigh, looking back at the shelf. he wasn't usually the type to make a scene, but when it came to you, his patience for other people was non-existent. he was territorial in a very intellectual, sharp way—he didn't like anyone acting like they knew you better than he did.
"i'm the only one who gets to recommend books to you," he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more private murmur. "because i’m the only one who knows you hate sad endings and that you always skip the middle of long descriptions. i don't need some guy in a scarf trying to fuckin' curate your life."
you smiled, leaning your head against his arm. "are you jealous, kim seungmin?"
"i'm observant," he corrected, though he couldn't hide the small, smug smile that touched his lips when you didn't pull away. "and i don't like people hovering. especially when they’re wrong about the pacing of that thriller. it’s actually very well-regarded."
he led you toward the checkout counter, his hand sliding down to lock fingers with yours. he didn't let go, even when he had to pay, making sure he was positioned between you and the rest of the store. as you walked out, he tucked the bag under his arm and pulled you closer.
"next time," he said, "just tell them you’re with a very mean singer who has no problem being rude in a quiet shop."
"i think they got the message," you teased.
"good," he whispered, pressing a quick, firm kiss to your temple. "they were supposed to."
I.N.
the night market was a blur of neon signs, the smell of spicy rice cakes, and the constant roar of a thousand different conversations. it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of place where you could lose someone in seconds.
jeongin had been holding your hand tightly the whole time, but he’d let go for just a moment to elbow his way through a crowd at a street food stall to grab the skewers you’d been eyeing.
you were waiting by a brightly lit claw machine, watching the mechanical arm fail to grab a plush bread roll, when a guy drifted over. he looked like he’d had a few drinks—not enough to be stumbling, but enough to be loud and way too confident.
"man, these things are a scam," he said, leaning his shoulder against the glass of the machine, effectively blocking your view. "you’re never gonna catch that. but hey, if you want something to take home, i’m right here."
you didn't even look at him, keeping your eyes on the joystick. "i'm just waiting for someone."
"he must be a slow guy to leave a girl like you standing in the middle of a crowd," he laughed, reaching out to tap the glass right in front of your face. he was hovering in your personal space, his shadow cutting off the light from the machine. "come on, let me buy you a drink instead of wasting your money on a toy. i know a spot just around the corner that’s way better than this mess."
you started to step away, but the crowd was thick behind you, trapping you between the machine and the stranger. "i said i'm waiting for someone. please move."
"don't be like that," he said, his hand moving as if to reach for your shoulder. "i'm just being—"
"she asked you to move."
jeongin appeared out of the crowd like he’d been launched from a cannon. he didn't look like the baby bread the fans joked about; he looked sharp, his feline eyes narrowed and his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line. he stepped directly between you and the man, his shoulder knocking the guy back a couple of inches.
he didn't say it loudly, and he didn't make a scene, but the sheer coldness in jeongin’s voice was enough to make the air around you feel brittle. he stood his ground, his height and the sudden, intense presence he carried making him look much older than he was.
"hey, man, back off. we were just talking," the guy snapped, trying to regain his footing.
jeongin didn't flinch. he didn't even blink. he just reached back and grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours with a grip that was borderline bruising. "you were bothering her. she told you to move, and you didn't. so i'm telling you now. get lost before this becomes a bigger problem for you."
the man looked at jeongin—really looked at him—and saw the silent, icy resolve in his gaze. jeongin had a way of looking through people when he was angry, a sharp, piercing stare that made it clear he wasn't playing. the guy muttered a curse under his breath and disappeared back into the sea of people.
the second he was gone, jeongin turned to you. the "scary" version of him evaporated instantly, replaced by a look of pure, frantic worry. he dropped the skewers onto the ledge of the machine and took your face in both of his hands, his thumbs frantically brushing over your cheeks.
"are you okay? did he touch you? i was only gone for a minute, i shouldn't have let go of your hand," he rambled, his voice high and breathless. the adrenaline was still surging through him, making his hands shake just a little.
"innie, i'm all good. you got here before he could even do anything," you said, trying to calm him down.
jeongin let out a long, shaky exhale, leaning his forehead against yours. he closed his eyes, his hands sliding down to rest heavily on your shoulders. "this is crazy," he whispered. "some drunk bastard thinks that he can... that's crazy."
he pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face in your neck. jeongin was usually the one being pampered by the older members, but when it came to you, he had this fierce, almost desperate need to be the protector. he hated being seen as "young" or "harmless" when it mattered most.
his grip tightening, he mutters against your skin; "i don't want anyone to look at us and think they can just take you away because i’m not enough to keep them back. you’re mine. i need them to know that."
he pulled back, his ears bright red but his eyes steady. he reached down, grabbed the food, and then locked his fingers with yours again—this time, he didn't just hold your hand; he held it like his life depended on it.
"we’re going home," he said firmly, though a shy, dimpled smile finally managed to peek through his serious expression. "and next time, if you want skewers, we’re going together. i’m not letting go of you for the rest of the night."
he led you out of the market, navigating the crowd with a new, confident stride, his shoulder always positioned to block you from anyone else’s view.
♫ every guy in here wants me, but the thing is, i want you.
୨୧ summary: a stupid party game leads to you being dared to make out with the hottest guy there. who would have thought that’d be jisung?
୨୧ pairing: nerd!han jisung x popular!fem!reader
୨୧ genre: college!au, some fluff, smut MDNI.
୨୧ word count: 5.6k
୨୧ warnings: 18+, explicit language, messy makeout sesh in front of people lmao, pet names (baby), dry humping, hair pulling, biting, degradation?, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, kinda sub!jisung and dom!reader ig??, alcohol mention (in the first line mb), mentions of a breakup but it means nothing to the plot whatsoever, afab reader, there's probably more but idk lmk >_<
୨୧ author's note: okay sorry i had to project onto y/n like yes i was too dumb to understand interstellar and yes i did watch almost 300 movies (in 2024 tho)…anyways this was literally supposed to be like 3k words MAX (that's why i wrote it in lowercase as intended for my shorter fics) and then i did that thing where i go insane so here we are.
pt 2 here!
friday night. changbin’s place. alcohol, loud music, too many bodies to count.
this isn’t really your scene; it’s just the one that’s been forced upon you because of the crowd you hang with.
which also isn’t really your crowd. it’s just the one you were sucked into because pretty people always gravitate towards each other. and you liked some of the girls enough, but most of them basked in their popularity while you just allowed it to exist.
it has its perks, at least. you’ve gotten decent-to-good sex from the hottest guys on campus and an abundance of classmates willing to send over their notes whenever you need.
unfortunately, it also made you a target during truth or dare. yes, the stupid game that has stood the test of time among youthful children and brainless college students alike. horny guys either want to pick apart your brain or want their friends to give them a challenge that’ll end up with you in their lap.
it’s so stupid.
yet here you are, agreeing to play anyways. because you always play. people might start thinking the world is going to end if you don’t.
you recognize most of the faces around you. most fit right in. most belong there.
and then there’s han jisung.
he wasn’t always around. han jisung — immaculate gpa and spotless record — wouldn’t have been caught dead at a party previously. but half a year ago, he met hyunjin in chemistry and became a valuable resource and, eventually, a friend.
at first, it was just for help with studying and trying to maintain a passing grade. along the way, though, hyunjin learned jisung is actually kinda cool, in an only slightly weird nerdy way. so he initiated him into his friend group, and now jisung often found himself at parties he felt out of place in.
but unlike you, he even looks out of place. sitting — no, sinking — against the couch, glasses sliding down his nose, hoodie pulled over his hat like it’ll make him more invisible. you hate that he actually looks maddeningly attractive.
he’s been mostly quiet during the game. everyone’s kept their questions or dares relatively tame when it gets to his turn. they refrain from anything overtly sexual because truthfully, nobody’s even sure he has sex. nobody sees him looking at girls, let alone talking to them. but oh, he looks. at you, actually, when you aren’t paying attention, because you’re too damn beautiful.
as for you, however, they’ve been relentless. and now it’s your turn again, too many sets of eyes falling onto you at once.
“truth or dare,” jeno asks.
“dare,” you answer immediately. you’ve gotten tired of sharing the intimate details of your sex life, like who’s been your best fuck, who’s been the worst, who you’d be willing to sleep with again.
“i dare you,” he begins, eyes twinkling with mischief, “to make out with the hottest guy here.”
none of the guys try to hide their excitement. they all expect it to be them, smirking as your gaze falls over each of them one by one. mingi even purses his lips and blows you a kiss from where he sits across from you.
if they were going to put you through hell, you’d throw it right back in their faces. in an instant, you push off the couch and walk over to where three of them sit: jisung and his two friends, hyunjin and jeongin.
first, you direct your torture to hyunjin. standing between his legs, he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to bring you closer. when you don’t budge, he looks up at you with his chin resting on your stomach.
“sorry, lover boy,” you purr, fingers threading in his hair. and just like that, you move to the next one.
jeongin, a year younger than you but definitely hot and far from inexperienced. this time, you bend down and begin to inch towards him, hands on either side of his thighs.
“i fucking knew it,” he whispers to hyunjin, who only huffs in response. and just as he’s about to sit up to meet you halfway, you grab his cheeks and stop him there. he looks adorable with your grip puffing his lips out.
adorable. but not the hottest guy here.
“don’t get me wrong, innie,” you drawl. “you’re hot.”
you release his face and retreat to stand again. his eyebrows are furrowed, mouth agape — you’ve left him speechless.
and then, just like that, you drop down beside him. right onto’s jisung’s lap.
han fucking jisung, who probably has no idea what to do with someone like you.
“but he’s hotter.”
as you settle against him, it’s clear he’s completely shocked and confused. maybe even a little doubtful this is real. actually, those are sentiments shared by everyone in the immediate vicinity.
“what. the. fuck,” jeno mutters under his breath. he certainly didn’t think his dare would lead you to jisung.
you’re straddling him now, and with the new proximity, you’re certain you made the right decision. his flustered state only adds to the lustful curiosity brewing within you.
“me?” jisung asks quietly, waiting for the laughter. waiting for you to stand up and walk back to jeongin or hyunjin or any of the other guys playing.
it doesn’t come. you just sit there in his lap prettily, staring into his eyes framed behind his glasses.
“yeah, you,” you smile sweetly, and he swears he’s going to die right there on that couch. god, what a good way to go out — with a pretty girl on his lap, completely unaware of how his cock is already twitching beneath you.
wait. he has to kiss you first. then he can die happy for sure.
maybe you’ve read his mind. just as he remembers the dare, you push his hood back and snatch his hat, pulling it onto your head backwards. how do you look even better wearing something of his?
there’s nothing to hide him anymore and nothing to hold you back anymore. your arms slink around his neck and yank him closer.
and then to your surprise, he’s the one closing the final inches, crashing his lips onto yours desperately. it takes only a second for you to fall into rhythm, lips moving against each other with restraint at first. the rest of the room ceases to exist and the music fades into background noise you can barely make out.
right now, it’s just you two. and the only sounds truly reaching your ears are the quiet hums of contentment that escape him. your fingers trail delicately along his skin, leaving a path of goosebumps behind them.
somehow, the kiss slips into something hungrier, messier. you aren’t sure who initiates the descent. you? him? both of you at once? who knows. who cares. all that matters is that jisung is a good fucking kisser.
actually, nevermind — you’re pretty sure it was you. it probably happened when you tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck and slid your tongue inside his mouth as he groaned into yours. the sound was so sinful that you just had to taste where it came from.
and he lets you. encourages you, even, kissing you harder as you taste every inch and quickly decide he’s your new favorite flavor. in the midst of it all, you notice (with great disappointment) that his hands are still resting on his knees awkwardly, and that simply won’t do. you reach behind your back and grab his wrists lightly, guiding them to your ass.
he doesn’t tense or hesitate; he just keeps his hands there, squeezing lightly. now you’re the noisy one, moaning quietly into him, and he prays that you can’t feel his cock beginning to tent in his pants.
you pull away, not because you want to, but because you definitely feel it and it’s driving you crazy. but then he squeezes your ass harder and sucks your tongue back into his mouth, drawing you right back in.
jisung, the “shy” nerd you always asked hyunjin about (in subtle ways, like “do you think he could tutor me?” or “why doesn’t your friend ever talk to anybody besides you and jeongin?”), sucks your tongue like he might pass away if you part from him.
so you don’t. you bite his bottom lip between your teeth and tug, silently telling him you asked for this. your hands land on his jaw, fingers pressing into his skin roughly. a cool sensation sends a tingle up your spine, one of his hands finding a new home just under the hem of your shirt.
without thinking twice, you roll your hips against him. just once, but once is all it takes. everything in him stills, your clothed cunt creating friction right where he’s now dreadfully hard.
you’re still kissing him sloppily, but he’s no longer responsive. sensing his unease, you pull away again, and this time, he doesn’t lure you back in. you remain close to him, faces only centimeters apart.
“everyone’s watching…” he trails, voice low.
oh, right. there are still at least ten people watching this unfold, not expecting a simple makeout dare to turn into softcore porn before their very eyes. especially not between you and jisung.
“yeah,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his. you’re finally met with the complete visual of his wreckage — flushed cheeks, pupils blown wide, lips tinted a darker shade of pink from your lip gloss. and, of course, the very obvious erection poking into you.
“and i’m hard,” he sighs, but it comes out as almost a whine.
he sounds both needy and humiliated, and you’re damn near soaking in your panties at this point. at least it isn’t outwardly noticeable, otherwise you’d be in the same predicament as him.
“i know,” you tease with a smile, “i’ll get us out of here, mkay?” your voice is syrupy sweet, and he nods quickly at your words. something about it is so pathetic in a cute, intriguing way, so you lean forward and press another much more chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.
you swing your leg over him and throw his hat onto his lap, offering him some coverage for his…problem. even though everyone surely already knows it’s there — he’s only human after all. your aim is impeccable, and he swallows hard as he flashes you a look of gratitude.
when you rise to your feet, it’s like you’ve suddenly flipped everyone’s on switch; the space fills with chatter once more. this will probably be the talk of your friend group for at least the next two business days.
“jesus christ,” mingi curses.
“y/n,” lia giggles, “you’re crazy.”
“well fuck,” hyunjin groans, “i didn’t think this friendship would lead to more competition.”
while you’re unbothered and simply roll your eyes at them, jisung sits stiffly on the couch, clearly at least a little embarrassed by their comments. he manages a small smile when jeongin elbows him and whispers something in his ear.
“thanks for a great game guys,” you smirk, “but jisung and i are tapping out.”
you turn around halfway and reach your hand out towards him. when he clasps his hand in yours, you tug him lightly and he’s on his feet in a second, standing closely behind and using your body as a shield in place of his hat that’s now discarded on the couch.
it hardly seems possible, but disbelief spreads across everyone’s faces even further. they all stare wide-eyed until their expressions settle into knowing smirks and sly grins. the remarks continue as you lead jisung through the living room and up the stairs.
“more like he’s tapping you.”
“y/n, if you change your mind, i’ll be here!”
you’re familiar with changbin’s house from a number of parties and maybe a hook up or two. so you head straight for a room you know to be empty, opening it with your free hand and kicking it shut after.
now that it’s just you two in a quiet room (aside from the thumping music coming from below), jisung is even more confused. how the hell did you consider him to be the hottest guy in a group full of the certified campus fuckboys? and moreover, you felt him literally pop a raging boner and instead of laughing at him with your friends, you brought him upstairs. alone.
he’s silent, but you can tell he’s lost in thought. “what are you thinking?” you purr, snaking your hand into his hair again while he’s backed against the door.
“just uh,” he pauses, “you’re really, really pretty.”
it’s sweet and innocent, yet it has you clenching around nothing. because he’s so unlike the guys you’re used to. nerdy, shy, maybe a little bit of a loser, and then at the same time, he made out with you like he needed it to survive.
“thank you,” you giggle, taking his hand once more and guiding him to the bed. once you’re at the foot of it, you spin around and push his chest with enough force for him to fall to the mattress. you crawl onto him, finding yourself in a familiar position — straddling him, feeling every bit of his arousal.
he leans up on his elbows and looks around, suddenly concerned. which he really shouldn’t be, because he has an actual angel straddling him on a fucking bed and he’s probably ruining it.
too bad he’s unable to turn off his brain for a bit. “wait. whose room is this?” he asks, chewing on his bottom lip subconsciously.
“relax, jisung,” you assure. “it’s changbin’s old roommate’s. but he moved out, so now it’s a spare.”
that should quell his worries, but instead it unleashes a whole new flurry of them. he can’t stop himself from the sarcastic reply he shoots out.
“oh. okay, perfect. the communal sex bedroom. i’m sure this place looks great under black light.”
yeah, you’re definitely going to scoff in his face and leave him there and never look at him again, he thinks.
or not.
you snort and throw your head back, and even the small movements of your body bouncing as you laugh have him going wild.
“you think too much, you know that?” yes, unfortunately he does know that. “i’m friends with changbin, i know he keeps shit clean. mostly.”
of course you’re friends with the older boy whose house you were currently partying in. and whose spare room you were probably about to do unholy things in. jisung doesn’t think changbin even knows his name.
he falls back flat against the mattress, eyes trained on the ceiling now. “you have a lot of friends it seems,” he says, and you wonder if it’s meant to sound as envious as it does.
part of you wants to tell him it’s not worth it. that he should appreciate the few friends he has because at least they’re genuine; popularity doesn’t equate to fulfillment. but that sounds like a whole ted talk you’re not sure you have the time or willpower to get into when all you want right now is to bring the boy beneath you to absolute ruin.
“i guess,” you agree simply. “i use ‘friends’ loosely. it’s all transactional.”
“transactional?”
“mhm. that’s just how things go in these crowds. these people don’t really know me,” you shrug.
you’ve piqued his interest now — or rather, he’s been interested, but now he’s gnawingly curious. from the outside, you fit right in with everyone downstairs. you laugh easily, you complete stupid dares without a second thought, you flirt and flip your hair and flutter your eyelashes. to think there’s a whole other side under all of it makes him crave to know more.
“what don’t they know?” he questions softly.
“hm,” you hum, thinking of something that’ll really throw him off. “they don’t know that i logged almost three hundred movies on letterboxd last year.”
he scoffs in disbelief and you just stare him, unwavering.
“three hundred?!” you nod. “bullshit.”
you roll your hips against him again, this time as a punishment for doubting your movie-watching abilities. a ragged groan rips through him, and his hands find their way to your waist, holding you down firmly. begging for more.
“swear. i’m a devout cinephile,” you grin, grinding down on him again.
his breath hitches. somehow, you feel so good even through the layers of clothes. “how did you even have time for schoolwork?” he sputters. it’s honestly a little impressive that his mind is still on academics.
“some of us don’t spend all of our lives studying,” you joke. he clicks his tongue and you decide he deserves the real answer. you know he won’t judge you for it. “i went through a rough break up and spent like two weeks just watching movies in bed.”
he frowns, wondering what idiot would break your heart. then he pictures you, no longer laughing with your friends at a party, but crying in bed with a sad romance movie playing in the background. “fuck that guy,” he says sternly.
“yeah,” you whisper, “fuck him.”
that’s the end of that conversation. that’s the end of all conversation; your hands twist into the fabric of his hoodie and your lips come crashing down onto his. you pick up right where you left off on the couch — tongues entangling, teeth nipping, moans no longer hushed.
you work your way down to his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses on his jaw along the way. your hips grind steadily, clinging to the rhythm you’ve built. he’s learned his lesson, too; he grips your ass without you needing to direct him, helping you through your desperate movements.
“don’t worry. i won’t leave any marks,” you reassure as you kiss the skin of his neck carefully. “wouldn’t want the star student to look like trouble.”
“you can,” he says too quickly, unsure where the newfound confidence comes from. it disappears almost immediately after. “if you want.”
when you pull back in surprise, you find only confirmation. he nods and you grin wickedly, dropping back to his neck and sucking with more determination now. “y/n,” he sighs, his hands sliding up and lifting your shirt slightly as they rub along your side.
him saying your name like that is your undoing. you push off of him and stand from the bed entirely, and he’s too breathless to voice his disappointment. he doesn’t need to, anyway, because his eyes drop to where your fingers are making quick work of your zipper and button.
“fuck these pants,” you hiss, pulling them off hurriedly. there’s hardly a moment for him to take in the sight of your bare thighs and lacy panties. “yours too,” you return to his lap and begin working on his jeans now. he helps you yank them down, hearing the quiet thud as you toss them to the floor.
there’s one less layer between you, allowing you both to feel much more. you can feel how hard he is, straining against his boxers, a small damp patch from where he’s leaked precum onto them. he can feel how soaked your panties are, the wet fabric offering very little at this point. you’re soaked because of him. that thought alone could almost make him cum in his boxers.
with each roll of your hips, your pussy glides against his cock, and he knows he won’t last long like this. at least before there was the thick material of your jeans helping him maintain some composure, but now he can practically feel himself sliding through your folds.
“you’re really fucking wet,” he groans. such filthy words come out of him with an ease you didn’t expect, and it has you rutting against him harder now.
“yeah, that’s what happens,” you giggle through moans, “you know anatomy and physiology, don’t you, sungie?” you reinforce your question with a particularly slow, purposeful grind.
“shit,” he swallows harshly, feeling himself nearing the edge too quickly. “yeah. yeah, i do.”
there’s not much of a rhythm to your movements anymore. it’s all frenzied need, and his hands are digging into your thighs roughly, keeping you in place and guiding you. you almost can’t believe this is the same jisung you always saw in the library with his nose in a book.
“‘course you do. you’re so smart,” you purr, catching his lips in another sloppy kiss. you can tell he’s close, and it’s unbelievably sexy that he looks so fucked out just from making out and dry humping. “but i didn’t know the smartest guy on campus was so desperate. holding me down on your cock like this.”
the amused edge in your tone brings him even closer, and he bucks into you now, losing all care for how shameful he may seem.
“y/n,” he whines. “i’m seriously gonna cum in my boxers if you keep going.” which is a funny statement considering he’s the one doing half of it.
and if it’s meant to be a warning, you don’t take it as one. that’s exactly what you want him to do. you want him to fall apart for you without you even touching where he’s neediest. you have an inkling he wants to, too, considering the strength he’s using to keep you against him.
“good,” you coo, “cum for me just like this, ji.”
you shift your head towards the side of his face, grabbing his jaw and latching your lips onto his earlobe.
“fuck,” he moans, “you’re so perfect.” he can feel you smile against his ear, and for some reason that almost does it for him.
“have you always thought that, or is it just because i’m on top of you?” you ask teasingly, biting down softly.
he tries to turn into you — he wants to see your pretty face so badly — but your grip has his head held in place and you tsk at him for trying. so he’s forced to squeeze his eyes shut and surrender himself to pleasure.
“no! always have,” he grunts. “i thought you would’ve caught me looking at you all those times.”
maybe you have caught him a few times, but lots of people stare. you never thought too much of it. certainly never thought you’d have him unraveling for you like this.
“and did you ever think about me like this?” you lean back, pressing your hands against his chest while you grind down harder, faster.
now he can take in every inch of your face, from the strands of hair sticking to it to your blissed out expression. you are perfect, whether you’re sitting in the dining hall with your friends, laughing with guys at a party, or — especially — if you’re rubbing against his cock in someone else’s bedroom.
“yes,” he chokes out. “fuck, yes i did.” yes i do, he wants to say, but he can’t correct himself before he’s spilling into his boxers, thick white spurts coating the fabric as you milk it out of him.
after a minute, you lean down to kiss his cheek and pull off of him. you scoot up until you’re against the headboard, staring at the ceiling in wonderment. then you look further down the bed where jisung is still trying to catch his breath. han fucking jisung. jesus christ, what a night.
“wait,” he pants, struck with realization. “you didn’t cum, though.” he tilts his head back to look at you, the mattress dipping under him.
god, he’s cute. and considerate. which is more than you can say about most of the guys you’ve fucked.
“it’s fine, jisung. i had my fun regardless,” you smile sincerely. but that just won’t do. no way is he letting you think he’s okay with being the only one satisfied. no, jisung has never been selfish, and he won’t allow that to start with you of all people. in fact, he thinks it’d be cruel after how good you just made him feel.
“can i eat you out?” he blurts out, slightly regretting it when you furrow your eyebrows. his cheeks flush a light shade of red thinking you’re going to reject his offer. and to think he was really looking forward to tasting more of you.
“have you eaten a girl out before?”
he looks almost offended, flipping over dramatically to look at you rightside up. “yes i have, actually,” he scoffs. “i’m not a virgin, you know. i’m not that much of a loser.”
you laugh and pat the space next to you. though he’s still pouting from your question, he joins you by the headboard. “i wouldn’t think you were a loser if you were a virgin,” you whisper reassuringly.
“probably because you already do,” he sighs.
well, that’s not totally untrue, but it’s not like you looked down on him for it. not at all, not even before tonight. “no,” you shake your head, and he looks at you wordlessly, already sensing your dishonesty. “okay, kinda. but in an endearing way!” he groans, dropping his head to the pillow (how many other people have done things with these pillows? he doesn’t even want to know). “seriously. i think you’re really, really cute, sungie.”
there goes that nickname again making his heart thump erratically. you might actually be the death of him. he lifts his head back up and looks so pathetically hopeful you could melt right into the sheets.
“cute?”
“yeah. so cute that you don’t even realize that you’re hot.”
suddenly, you kiss him again, hard, and he whimpers into your mouth. the sound goes straight down to your soaked panties. perhaps he senses it, snaking his hand down and grabbing the inside of your thigh, right next to your heat. it tears a moan straight out of your chest, and when you pull back, his eyes are desperate.
“please?” he begs.
there’s no reason for you to deny what you both want. you nod quickly and that’s all it takes. he slips his glasses off, carefully placing them on the bedside dresser because yes, he’s still cautious even when he’s about to go down on a very pretty girl. and just as you’re about to make fun of him for it, he slinks his way down, stopping right above your cunt.
he presses his lips against you through the fabric, tongue darting out to flick your clit. your thighs clench from the new sensation and he holds them open, now leaving a trail of kisses along them.
“jisung,” you whine, “don’t fucking tease.”
he pauses, looking up at you sinfully. “but do you really want a loser like me to taste you? to know how sweet this pretty pussy is?” his fingers rub you in place of his mouth, slowly dragging up and down the wet material you really wish he would just rip off of you. but unfortunately, you’ve made him feel a bit too powerful.
“you think you’re in control now, baby?” you drawl with feigned sweetness. “you’re not. admit it — if i got up right now, you’d get on your knees and beg for me. right, jisungie?”
he huffs despite knowing your words are true. and he fears that you really might get up just to prove it. so he dips his thumbs into your waistband and pulls the pink lacy fabric down, the cool air hitting your pussy immediately.
but that’s not a good enough answer for you. you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug a little too harshly, forcing him to look up at you again. “i asked a question,” you taunt.
“right,” he mutters defeatedly, and though you would’ve liked a more enthusiastic agreement, that would have to do. you were already far too needy from all the night’s events.
“good,” you hum, “now make me cum.”
all traces of his previous teasing vanish when he licks a stripe through your folds, your slick coating his tongue. this time when you pull his hair, it’s not to punish, but to ground yourself.
because there’s no restraint in his actions. jisung — who you just heard complain about a “communal sex bedroom” and who you watched place his glasses down with so much care — devours you sloppily, hungrily. that careful, overthinking part of him was long gone, and his only thoughts now revolve around making you cum on his tongue no matter how messy it may be.
your back arches off the bed and he holds your thighs even tighter, wondering if he could leave his imprints on your skin for the next guy to see. hopefully there won’t be a next guy.
“fuck, jisung,” you moan.
“hm?” he hums into you, and the vibration sends a delicious jolt through your body. “am i doing good?”
you nod even though he can’t see. “so good,” you pant, “how the fuck are you so good?”
the praise only entices him, lapping at your pussy greedily. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud until you swear your vision blurs.
truthfully, he doesn’t have an answer to your question; sure, he’s eaten girls out before, but none of them have given him a particularly amazing reaction. but you have no reason to stroke his ego, so he assumes your words must hold truth. and god, does he feel too damn good about himself right now.
his name falls from your lips in strangled cries each time he dips his tongue into your hole or flicks it against your clit. the alternation between the two is so dizzying that you feel your release building rapidly.
that only furthers when he drags two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness. with ease, he plunges those same fingers into you and focuses his mouth entirely on your swollen nub. the lewd noises fill the room along with your moans, and your sweet, wrecked voice calling out his name is enough to have his cock twitching to life yet again.
“ji, fuck,” you cry, “i’m so close, don’t stop. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”
for you. his life might just have a new purpose.
he pumps his fingers into you quicker now, curling them upwards against your g-spot in rhythm with the languid circles of his tongue around your clit.
“cum for me, please?” he begs, only parting from you for a moment. “right on my tongue. please, baby.”
his words are all you need to come undone, clenching around his fingers and gripping his hair as he works you through your orgasm. he slows his pumps but doesn’t stop, not until your back falls to the mattress and your grip loosens.
even then, he doesn’t pull away without one final slow, tantalizing lick up your center, just to savor it in case he never gets to have you like this again.
“oh my god,” you breathe out, watching his movements out of the corner of your eye while you try to bring yourself back down to earth.
he licks his lips and sucks his fingers clean before reaching for his glasses. when he puts them back on, he’s no longer jisung who made you cum on his fingers, but jisung who sits awkwardly at parties. you’ve discovered that you’re actually quite fond of both sides.
“please tell me you weren’t lying about all that,” he pleads.
“what? that you did good?” he nods, reverting back to his usual shy self. like the glasses have some kind of power to turn it off and on. “nope. han jisung is a really good pussy eater.”
his cheeks dust with embarrassment, as if he didn’t just devour you a few minutes ago. the jisung you recognize is back, and you can only laugh at his sudden 180.
the room fills with silence as you both mull over the past hour internally. there’s no regret, just…confusion? excitement? and exhaustion. lots of exhaustion. he’s sprawled out at the foot of the bed while your head is on the pillows, and if you weren’t nearly naked in changbin’s spare room, you could probably fall asleep like this.
then his voice cuts through the silence and you force your eyes open. “favorite christopher nolan movie?” he asks — a very important question. probably should have come before the orgasms, even. his head is turned to face you against the mattress, hoping you’ll say…
“the dark knight.”
he narrows his eyes at your answer, not totally pleased. it’s a solid one, but not the right one. this isn’t an opinion-based question to him. “interstellar,” he shoots back.
you pull your head back in shock. “really? you strike me as a superhero guy,” you muse.
“yeah, spiderman,” he scoffs. like you should just know he prefers spiderman over batman. common jisung knowledge of course. you’d save the debate about battinson for another day.
“right. cause you’re basically peter parker.”
“huh?”
he waits for you to elaborate, but you move on far too quickly. “and you’re probably into all that crazy space shit that went over my head in interstellar,” you groan. that causes him to sit up immediately, face contorting in horror.
“what? you didn’t understand the masterpiece that is interstellar?” you blink at him. “oh my god. we have to go watch it right now. but just be prepared, i will be on my knees banging on the tv right with matthew mcconaughey.”
somehow, you’re wide awake now, fully enticed by the prospect of watching a movie with him. such a simple domestic thing that has you grinning and laughing at his enthusiasm.
“okay, yeah, maybe you are a loser…”
you laugh and he deadpans at you before breaking into laughter himself. it’s comfortable and easy, and you both begin shoving limbs into clothes hurriedly so you can get out of here and indulge yourselves in three hours of “crazy space shit.”
warnings: perv!jisung, edging, sexual activities (MDNI), no protection (b smart), dry humping, “just the tip” is a real sentence jisung says, creampie, dacryphilia, threat of getting caught
summary: chan is your big brother, jisung is his best friend. jisung is also the guy gooning over you every time he’s in your home.
han jisung is always in your fucking house.
does he even have parents? a bed of his own? you honestly aren’t sure. it’s not like you could ask if you wanted to, because even though han jisung is always in your fucking house- he’s also always with your older brother.
“y/n, did you eat the last of mom’s leftovers?”
“no.”
“are you lying?”
“she looks like she’s lying, hyung. looks guilty.”
you roll your eyes, feeling the weight of annoyance spiking at a level only your brother and his best friend could conjure in your soul as you glance sideways at them. if your popcorn would just turn a little faster in the microwave, you could escape them so much quicker.
han jisung is the type of person that makes you question how he got there in the first place. you don’t remember meeting him, don’t remember your first impression or the first conversation you had. it’s like he’s just always been there, attached to chan’s hip and eating all the snacks in your parents’ pantry. chan treats jisung like the brother he never had, and in return jisung treats you like he’s the second brother you never asked for.
it really irks you- how he is always in your space, long legs taking up all the room on the couch, loud laughter and clapping hands carrying from chan’s room to your own across the hall. chan is irritating at times, as any sibling is, but jisung is irritating in entirely different ways.
example one: chan had always been a year above you in school. you never got to introduce yourself to your teachers, because they already knew you as chan’s little sister. he was the football captain, and the class president, and participated in so many extracurricular activities you felt your own head grow heavy at the thought of his daily schedule. everyone knew him, and everyone knew jisung- because jisung was always beside him.
jisung was co-captain, he was vice president, he was in every single club chan was. they both swear they never planned it, the same way they never planned to make you the world’s most lonely teenager ever. because no high school boy wants to mess with chan’s little sister- and the ones that were brave enough to try, dealt with jisung.
jisung, who threw his arm around you every time he saw you talking to a boy by the lockers. jisung, who turned down every date you were asked on before you could even open your mouth. han fucking jisung, who-
“so, you know your friend with the curly hair?” jisung speaks up, standing way too close, leaning his elbows against the counter beside you while you zone out to the hum of the microwave. your popcorn just started popping.
you glance at him sideways, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “yes, i’m aware of her. you know, since she’s my friend and all. ”
jisung hums, biting into his pink bottom lip and looking up at you from his slouched, lazy posture. looking entirely too cocky, way too sure of himself. you blink, looking away before that mental image can get stuck in your head.
“is she single?” he asks, ignoring your scoff of discontent. when you don’t respond he follows up with a whine, drawn out and scratching at your eardrums. “come on- i’m asking for a friend!”
“what friend?” you shoot back, a little incredulous. “chan is the only friend you have!”
han fucking jisung- who is still the devil on your shoulder, even now.
chan graduated college last year. he moved back home, moved back in with your parents until he could find a place in the city- and you couldn’t even pretend to be shocked when jisung decided to move back home too. then, it was your turn to graduate college. and it was only a little embarrassing to fold all of your clothes into your childhood dresser three months ago, feeling better knowing that chan was in the exact same boat.
now it feels like you never moved out. because you still live in your parents’ house with your brother and jisung is still torturing you with his presence.
what makes everything about a billion times worse is that jisung got ripped while he was away at college. it’s obvious chan dragged him to the gym often, the muscled biceps underneath his tight black t shirt flexing with every move he makes. he isn’t some scrawny boy who wears hoodies that swallow him anymore- now he’s… grown up. taller, bigger, but still a pain in your neck. now, the added irritation of all of your friends commenting on how hot your brother’s best friend is just adds more insult to injury.
so, that’s how it goes. you wake up every morning, have your first cup of coffee in peace, and let your mind wander without a path to follow. with your parents gone most of the time, enjoying each other’s company now that they (in theory) have an empty nest, there’s no one around to tell you not to use the good mugs- whatever that means- and there’s no one to break the quiet comfort of silence in the mornings.
that is, until jisung knocks on your front door.
chan is never awake in time to answer, so it’s your duty to be the designated greeting card. you know it’s jisung, because it’s always jisung; when you open the door it’s with a loud groan, as if your peace has been shattered into tiny little shards of what once was. really, it has.
“good morning to you too, gorgeous.” jisung hums, even throws in a wink when he squeezes past you to enter the space. as if he lives there, too.
“chan isn’t awake,” you mumble as you always do, running a hand through your hair and sipping your coffee. it scalds your tongue, still way too hot, but it’s a better alternative to whatever jisung wants to ramble about today.
“oh! i actually meant to tell you- guess who i saw yesterday?” jisung is grinning, sharp white teeth on display. you fight a cold chill that makes you want to shiver, crossing your arms under your chest as you blankly look back at him.
“please tell me who you saw yesterday, i’m on the edge of my seat,” you drawl lazily, monotoned. jisung chuckles as if he is winning an impromptu standoff, as if he’s never lost anything in his life. suddenly, you feel the spike of nerves in your stomach. jisung is always bad to be around, but he’s hellish when he has a secret he knows you want to know.
“i saw lee felix,” he hums out, grinning wider, eyes flicking down your body in slow motion, as if he wants to take the time to savor your reaction and watch the twitch in your fingertips.
you try not to react- you really try. but the flush you feel warming your cheeks and the furrow in your brow can’t be hidden. once again, you’re irate because of han jisung. naturally.
“you mean the guy you lied to about me not being single junior year of high school?” you huff, biting your cheek to stop your anger from slipping into your tone. jisung looks like he is entirely too pleased with himself. “the guy you didn’t correct when he assumed you and i were together? the guy i had a major crush on?”
jisung hums an affirmative sound, resting against the back of the couch behind him, mimicking the cross of your arms with his own muscular ones. you feel your grip tighten on your mug.
“exactly! and you know what he asked me?” jisung raises an eyebrow, tongue pressed between rows of pearly white teeth peeking out of his mouth. you feel the sudden intrusive thought to throw your scalding coffee at him, wipe the cocksure grin from the corners of his lips.
through gritted teeth you decide to humor him. “what did lee felix ask you, jisung?”
and his grin turns sharper- eyes narrowing, pushing off the back of the couch to step an inch closer to you. you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches in your chest, hope he can’t hear the way your heartbeat is loud in your ears. you have to look up to meet his eye, trapped between his muscled chest and the wall behind you.
“he asked me if you were as good of a fuck as he imagined you to be.”
tv static is taking up all of the space in your head that usually holds your wit, your sharp tongue dulled under the all-encompassing heat in jisung’s stare. if you had any thoughts to spare, you would be asking yourself what the hell is happening. because this isn’t the usual, annoying and protective act you were used to jisung pulling. this isn’t the same as him telling every boy you’ve ever met that he bites- jisung is looking down at you with an intensity behind his dark brown baby doe eyes that makes him look less like prey, more like the thing doing the hunting.
you have to ask yourself, what the hell is wrong with me? because even after all these years of jisung being the thing haunting your every waking moment, your thighs still clench together when he pushes closer. you still feel the way your eyes fight not to flutter closed when his cologne hits your nose, something that smells like roses and petrichor. you feel the pulse of want curl into the base of your stomach, thinking his hands look so much bigger now, wrapped around vein-ridden biceps with crossed arms, thinking about all the ways his hands could engulf you-
jisung is pulling away quickly, and by the time you complete a series of blinks he is leaning against the couch again, phone in hand, casual as ever. you’re about to ask him if you had experienced a hallucination, mouth open but brain not quite working yet, when you hear it: footsteps, slow and dragging down the hall upstairs.
chan comes down the stairs groggy, eyes half closed and curly hair sticking up all over his head. he’s scratching his chest, yawning and barely glancing at your disheveled state before hitting jisung lightly on the arm to get his attention.
“hey man, you still staying here tonight?” chan asks, already retreating back up the steps with jisung tailing him, feet softly thumping the staircase.
“yeah, if that’s cool. dad is having a poker game tonight, he’ll force me to play with his buddies and lose all my money.” you hear the echo of jisung’s chuckle, but you don’t process the words. your brain is still on loop, repeating jisung is staying here tonight over and over again uselessly.
jisung has stayed the night with chan countless times. like previously mentioned, you’re not convinced he even has a house of his own. jisung waking up and descending the stairs of your home is just as normal of an occurrence as chan being here. but-
but. your body is still hot. your thighs are still clenching, as if to get a hold on your bodily reaction to him being as close as he was. he didn’t even do anything- just pushed hot air from his lips, let it hit your neck, just leaned in far too close.
and it’s not like you’re some blushing, virgin mary. your body count isn’t in double digits, but it’s more than one. you like to tease and flirt and let people stutter through trying to do the same in return. you like it when people fawn over you, biting their lips nervously and ducking their head down when they ask you out. so what about the situation that occurred less than five minutes ago made you have such a violent, embarrassing reaction?
you shake your head, using the excuse that it’s just… ovulation. probably. never mind the fact that your period isn’t due for another three weeks, it has to be some weird bodily hormone that makes you feel like opening your legs wide and begging- whatever.
you focus on carrying on as normal, business as usual. you video chat with your best friend, listening to him complain about an art critic who reviewed his favorite piece at the local gallery and totally missed the point. you shower, apply your favorite skin care routine and braid your hair, anything to keep your mind pleasantly busy. anything to keep you from gritting your teeth when you hear the loud claps of laughter from the other side of the hall.
your bed seems so much more comfortable than usual, letting your body sink into the mattress with a sigh of relief. it’s a couple hours earlier than you would usually go to sleep, but the events of this morning made you run circles in your head that exhausted you. so with the moon still rising and the sky just turning completely dark, you close your eyes and try not to think.
and of course, han jisung doesn’t let you know peace. even in your dreams, your mind replays the way he never quite touched you this morning. your mind wanders to thoughts of what it would have felt like if he had- if he had gripped your waist with one large hand, warm palm running up and down your ribs in a faux gesture of innocent intent. would he lure you in gently, like a cat waiting for the right moment to descend with fangs? or would he be mean from the start, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth just to hear the way you whine and see how fast your skin breaks?
the thoughts manifest as visions, dreams of honey skin and a heart shaped mouth. then you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly, and that doesn’t feel like a vision at all. it feels real, so real you flutter your eyes open with a squint of confusion.
“hey- there you are,” a low voice, sleep-ridden and scratched, murmurs from above. you swallow the whine trapped in your throat from left over sleep, blinking up to see… han jisung. as if you conjured him from your dreams. of course.
“you were talking in your sleep,” he says next, chuckling after. “nightmare?”
you shake your head, waking up more and more. jisung’s hand is still pressed lightly to your bare shoulder, warm and engulfing. his fingertip rests under your tank top strap.
“wasn’t a nightmare,” you mumble, watching him shift to squat next to you, eye-level. “what are you doing up?”
“bathroom,” he shrugs. “heard you on my way back to chan’s room.”
then jisung is looking at you- really looking, taking in the position your body is in and the flush on your cheeks. the blanket is only covering you from the waist down, too warm in your room to have it up any further. when jisung’s eyes flit down to where your legs are hugging one of your pillows, his head tilts to the side.
“not a nightmare, hm?” he murmurs, phrasing the question in a way that doesn’t want a response. his hand trails down your arm, making you fight off a shiver when his fingers grip the blanket at your waist lightly. “you know, this pillow between your legs is all rumpled up. were you using it?”
then you feel the blanket move down, slowly revealing your hip and the exposed skin of your thigh. you vaguely register that you aren’t wearing pants, too hot to bother with anything more than the underwear clinging to your skin. and jisung is taking in a breath, hitched and amused like he just confirmed his own suspicion. when you glance down you can’t see much, but the moonlight filtering through your window highlights the dark patch of cloth amongst your clean pillow case- right where you suppose you were grinding into it, right where your pussy is clenching at having been caught.
“you know, i only came in here because i thought i heard you say my name,” jisung is grinning. he pulls the blanket further down your thighs, off of your legs, and rakes his gaze back up to your eyes. despite the warmth of your room, you shiver. “were you saying my name, baby?”
baby, baby, baby- playing on loop in his low, scratchy voice. jisung has never called you that, has never looked at you with so much unabashed desire. and his hand moves again, gripping your hipbone in a way that’s almost soft, fingers digging into the space around your hip like he wants to carve out its shape.
“i wasn’t-“ you whisper, shaking your head like you could possibly deny what he so clearly heard. jisung grins like that’s exactly what he wanted you to say.
“oh, you weren’t saying my name?” he hums, brow raised, fingers digging into you just an inch harder. “so i didn’t hear sungie, need you, need your co-“
he’s whining and moaning loud enough to make you panic, hand slapping over his mouth to shut him up. you feel your breath stutter when he doesn’t put up a fight, just looks at you from behind your own hand. you listen for the telltale thump of chan’s feet, but the house outside of your room is silent. jisung wraps his fingers around your wrist, engulfing it, and pulls you away. not far- your hand is resting on his jaw now, only moving you enough so he can speak.
“he’s asleep, you know?” jisung bites into his lip, head tilting back towards the door. you scoff and pull your wrist out of his grip.
“and what are you going to say when he wakes up and comes looking for you? when he finds you in his little sister’s room trying to- seduce her?” you hiss, flustered at the situation. all you get in return is a raised brow and the amused quirk of jisung’s lips.
“come on, baby. you know better than anyone how deep he sleeps. the house could be set on fire and he wouldn’t wake up until the flames hit his foot.”
you don’t have a rebuttal this time. you know jisung has a point, but it’s still so, so wrong. jisung is chan’s best friend, if he ever found out you would both be six feet under. chan would never speak to either of you ever again.
but jisung is right in front of you. he is standing to his feet slowly, like he is afraid to move too quickly and scare the small, feral animal in front of him. your breath hitches sharply when he turns your body, hands guiding you until you’re laying on your back and he can crawl onto the bed. his knees land between your legs, your body responding and legs spreading open even as you think of all of the horrible ways you could be caught.
jisung lets out a long, slow exhale from his parted lips as he looks down at you. your tank top has rumpled up in your sleep, laying right above your stomach, and the hand that lays on your ribs feels so big in comparison. you bite your lip as his hand travels lower, dipping under the waistline of your soaked panties to pull and tug upwards at the material.
jisung groans, “god- you’re so fucking pretty, baby. it’s not fair.”
“what’s not fair?” you mumble, half-dazed and fighting a whine at the way the material of your underwear slides against your sensitive clit.
“you get to walk around like this all the time,” jisung whispers, gaze never leaving your pussy- like he doesn’t want to miss a single twitch of your hips. “and i have to pretend i don’t think about how tight this little cunt would be wrapped around my cock.”
the whine that leaves your lips is one of pure desperation, making your hand slap over your mouth to avoid being heard. jisung flicks his eyes toward the head of the bed, gaze meeting yours, as he tilts his head to the side.
“you like that, rockstar?” jisung asks in a quiet hum, palming his bulge over his sweatpants. he uses his other hand to tease your clit over your thin panties, thumb rubbing over the bundle of nerves ever so lightly. “like when i tell you what you do to me? what i think about when im sleeping in the next room over?”
you nod, bordering on desperate as your hips kick up. jisung groans under his breath, bringing his now slick thumb to his lips and sucking at the digit. then a sigh leaves his mouth, hands moving to pull at the hem of his pajamas.
“can’t fuck you tonight, sweet girl.” he mumbles, leaving you to decide if you want to scoff or cry at the denial. “you’re already so loud, you’ll be screaming if i stick it in. but we can still have fun, yeah? i’ll make you feel good, baby. don’t worry.”
jisung barely gives time for your foggy brain to process the words, sliding his sweats and underwear down to mid thigh and leaving you to gape at his hard cock like a woman starved. jisung is, like, ridiculously big. how did he manage to hide that with all those baggy hoodies? you feel your pussy throb and clench at the mere thought of feeling him stretch you open.
and jisung doesn’t stop- he brings himself closer, spreads your legs so they are wide open and lifted to your chest. one large hand is pressed to the back of your thigh, holding you open, while the other gives lazy attention to his glistening length.
“sung, please-“ you whisper, feeling hot all over and almost possessed. you need him, bad. jisung knows that, too. he knows and all he does to placate you is grin out of the corner of his mouth and grind his hips in a slow, dirty roll forward.
the feeling of his cock, hard and pulsing against your dripping slit with only the dainty fabric of your sheer underwear to separate you, makes you tip your head back in a helpless whimper. he keeps going, grinding his length forward in lazy rolls of his hips, the head of his cock pushing against your clit in a way that makes your head spin. you’re already soaked, panties dripping wet to aid in the glide of jisung’s length, and you can’t help the little gasps leaving your mouth as your hips buck forward.
“ah- yeah baby, just like that,” jisung pants, one arm resting by your head while the other keeps your thigh held up. he grinds into you faster, matching the stuttered pace of your own hips as he bends down to lay messy, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. “keep moving those hips, rockstar. making me feel so good.”
you whimper softly, near pathetic, as your head tilts to the side to give jisung more access to your neck. his mouth moves constantly, licking and biting at the skin with a reckless sort of desperation. he’s wet, too- you can feel the precum dripping from his tip smear against your panties, soaking through to your clit with the rest of the mess you’ve made.
“sung, please- want more,” you whine out, arms wrapping around his neck and nails clawing at his shoulders. he curses, hips bucking harder before he pulls away slightly to look at you.
and you’re a mess. panting for breath, tank top tucked up to rest just under your tits, face and neck flushed, underwear clinging to your soaked cunt and throbbing with need. jisung bites his lip harshly, causing a white indent on the flesh. when he gives his length a slick pump, the sound makes you both whine.
“shit, okay. can’t fuck you but- just a little more,” he’s breathing out, sliding your ruined panties to the side. he groans at the sight, your pussy glistening in the low light as he uses his thumbs to spread you open. you can’t help but clench as his eyes land on your needy hole, moaning a little too loud when long, deft fingers dip inside of you just slightly.
“baby, rockstar-“ jisung is huffing against your ear, fingertips barely pushing in and out of your entrance. “you’re soaked. do you always get this wet, or do you just like me that much, hm?”
you can’t help the whine that leaves you, feeling so on edge but not getting enough stimulation to push you over, embarrassed at the thought of jisung knowing just how much he affects you. “just for you, ji. no one else.”
a moan from above, soft and airy, followed by an equally soft, “good fucking girl.”
jisung’s fingers flit over you, grazing your throbbing clit before lining his leaking cock back up. the feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin, his slick length nudging your clit and the wet sounds of each roll of your hips makes your whines grow an octave higher. jisung is there to tease you, as always. leaning back into your space, panting into you ear as his length throbs on your pussy, up and down and up and down.
“gotta be quiet rockstar, remember? wouldn’t wanna wake channie-hyung up, would you?”
you remember the situation you’re in with startling clarity. chan, your older brother, in the next room over. jisung, his best friend, sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night and finding you a pathetic, needy mess. somehow, the idea of being caught like this, with jisung over you and his length sliding between your slit, makes you feel that much closer.
“god, please i-“ you break off your begging to moan when the tip of jisung’s cock catches against your entrance- not entering you, but so close. “need you, ji. need you to fuck me, please-“
“shh, sh, sh, baby. how am i supposed to fuck you like this, hm? already so wet, fuck- i’d bust as soon as i stretched you open on it.”
you feel tears build up in your eyes at being denied again, hole clenching at the empty feeling even though you feel so good from the stimulation his hips provide. your clit is hyper-sensitive, every press and push against it making your thighs twitch and shake more. you don’t realize the tears have spilled from your lash line until you feel jisung’s tongue, hot and so wet, sliding against your cheek to clean you up.
“oh, what am i gonna do with you?” jisung is whispering, almost to himself, shuddering into your skin. “fine, shit- okay. just the tip, alright?”
you blink through the daze in your mind, giving jisung a look that attempts a blank stare. “did you learn that from porn, sungie?”
he responds with a scoff, an incredulous raise of his brows. “i mean it! just the tip, baby. no more, wanna hear you scream properly the first time i sink all the way into you.”
oh. yeah, okay.
you feel heat roll through your body, jisung not even moving away from kissing your cheeks and neck as he lines his hard cock up with your entrance, running the tip of his length up and down your slit. finally, finally, pushing inside.
jisung feels huge inside you- after being teased relentlessly for what felt like hours, his cock finally stretching your walls open felt like heaven. but as he said, he thrusts only the tip inside.
“ngh- god, rockstar. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock,” jisung is whining, panting against your collarbone. “so tight, trying to suck me in all the way.”
all you can do is muffle your moans against jisung’s shoulder, nails digging into the skin of his lower back where his shirt has ridden up and legs wrapping around his narrow hips. you can feel the ridges on his length, the head of it pressing into you just barely past your entrance before pulling out again. it’s so much, it’s not enough- at this rate you feel the urge to flip positions and push yourself so far down on jisung’s cock you can feel it in your stomach. but your body is useless, thighs trembling from the continued barely-there stimulation, and jisung is murmuring against your ear again.
“wanna know what i said to felix, baby?” he’s asking with a sharp inhale, remembering your conversation from earlier. you’re tempted to scream, tell him you don’t care what he said to felix, you don’t care about felix- or anyone else, for that matter. all you can think about is jisung, jisung, jisung, and the way he could be filling you up so deliciously right now if he would just go a little bit further.
instead, you speak around the whine in your throat. “what?”
jisung fights to keeps his words steady in between little aborted grinds of his hips, fat head of his cock pushing inside you again and again. his hands wandering to your hips, squeezing fingers hard enough to leave indented bruises in their wake.
“he asked me what you felt like, if you were a good- fuck. and i said,” a moan, burying his head in your neck and muffling his words just barely. “said you were the best fuck of my life, rockstar. shit- so tight, so hot- swallowing my cock like this little pussy is starving for it. told him- all he could do was fist his dick and imagine it, you know why?”
jisung pauses the small, fast thrust of his hips. you can’t breathe, can only feel the head of his cock resting at your entrance, barely inside, spreading your folds open. you throb, clenching around the small amount of his length inside you, and his exhale is stuttered before he finishes rambling.
“‘cause you’re mine to fuck, baby. and i’m the only one that gets to make you cry like this.”
there’s a large palm pressing over your mouth as jisung buries his head in the side of your neck, muffling his own long, drawn out groan as he pushes his thick cock inside you- all the fucking way. the hand at your lips barely offers reprieve when you scream, eyes clenching shut at the feeling of finally being so full and stretched open around jisung’s length. delirious, you think you can feel the bulge of it in your lower stomach.
jisung can’t control his hips anymore, biting the skin where your shoulder and neck meet to keep himself somewhat muffled as he snaps in and out of you at a rapid pace, never leaving your soaked pussy more than halfway. your legs are barely holding onto jisung’s hips, ankles weakly hooked at his back, and you pant harshly into the hand around your mouth.
“so, fucking, good-“ jisung moans by your ear, voice low and gravelly and dripping with that same desperate need you feel clawing up your spine. it’s almost too much- the all encompassing stimulation you get to have so suddenly after being teased with the lightest touches for so long. jisung does what he does best, and he makes matters so much worse.
deft fingers reach your clit, throbbing and sensitive to any touch. the response is immediate, lightning curling your toes and making you yelp into the palm over your mouth. jisung chuckles, half breathless and half manic, continuing to ramble on in your ear.
“that’s right rockstar, just keep shaking,” he moans, fingers circling your clit in fast little figure eights. you feel the spark of pleasure in your gut grow bolder, louder, and know you’re close. jisung must know too, you can feel his teeth against your neck as he keeps his pace, hips slamming into you, fingers working you over until your eyes are rolling back and stars are dotting your vision.
the moan that leaves your mouth would surely be loud enough to wake chan up if not for jisung’s hand muffling it. he curses quick, hips stuttering before he’s cumming too- inside you, filling your cunt up in a way that makes you shiver through the last of your own orgasm. jisung thrusts again, riding out his high in a slower, syrupy grind, before he pulls out with one last sigh.
you can feel his release leaking out of your spent pussy, whimpering as the warm air hits your soaked core. jisung moans softly, almost pitifully, thumb running through the mess leaking out of you and smearing it along your slit. then, he has the audacity to pull your panties back into place over the mess. with a quick pat to your ruined underwear and a kiss to your forehead he stands.
the wink he throws you is absurdly nerdy, using both eyes to do so. you roll your eyes but can’t help the fond smile on your face as he pulls the blanket back over you.
“sweet dreams, rockstar.” he whispers, kissing your lips once more and sinking his teeth into the lower one in a tease. you pout as he walks away, looking back at you once more to give a wide grin before dipping out of the room. you hear the soft close of chan’s door before you drift off again, body spent but mind quiet and a small, content smile gracing your lips.
when you wake up, it is to aching muscles and a content, quiet buzz in your head. you stretch, groaning at the sheer amount of bones that pop in your body, before getting up and getting ready for the day. blushing, you remember the messy state your body was left in, showering to get rid of the worst of it. the bruises on your hips and collarbone won’t wash away, but you smile at them before covering them up. you hope they never fade.
downstairs, the house is alive with the sound of two deep voices. you must have slept longer than anticipated, for once waking up after chan. you descend the stairs with your heart beating in your throat, nervous and hoping chan doesn’t immediately clock the sinful thoughts in your head.
“y/n! you slept in late,” chan hums, glancing up from the video game he and jisung are in the middle of. jisung doesn’t tear his eyes away from his character on the screen, but there’s a small twitch to his lips that makes your thighs clench just slightly.
“morning,” you mumble, pouring scalding coffee into one of your favorite mugs. you shuffle into the living room, criss-crossing your legs in the armchair to the left of the couch in use. you don’t know who is playing what character, but isabelle is kicking donkey kong’s ass.
once a winner is announced chan sighs, grinning and allowing jisung to tease him for his apparent loss. then chan turns to you, making his best friend do the same, and you fight the flush threatening to announce suspicion.
“by the way, were you having a nightmare last night?” chan asks, you blinking dumbly at him in response. jisung coughs beside him, poorly attempting to hide the snort of laughter that almost bubbled up.
“no. why?” you ask, fighting to remain normal and like the picture of nonchalance. chan shrugs, turning back to the television like he is none the wiser. he switches his character from donkey kong to link. jisung picks a weird red dragon.
“i was half asleep so i could’ve imagined it, i just thought i heard you talking. sounded like a nightmare,” chan says, mostly focused on the start of a new round.
you hum noncommittally, watching jisung’s character hit a fast combo and KO link. while waiting for chan to respawn, jisung catches your eye with a bitten lower lip that hides a cocky, satisfied grin. he clears his throat softly, throwing his hand up to run through messy hair. on the way back to holding his controller, jisung sneaks his hand to the side of his neck and taps the skin there, flicking his gaze down to your own neck.
your breath hitches when you touch the skin there, feeling the faint thrum of pain from a bruise you know is visible. you raise the collar on your shirt to cover it, quickly looking back to the tv when the next round starts.
“you should try to get more sound sleep,” jisung is speaking now, shrugging like he’s just making conversation. you can only watch his slim fingers flit over the buttons on his controller out of the corner of your eye, ears ringing. “they say working up a sweat beforehand helps you sleep like a baby.”
chan nods, barely paying attention to the conversation as he curses under his breath at the game. jisung glances at his best friend, glancing at you after, and winks.
“if you ever need a tip, just let me know, y/n. i always have time to help.”
han fucking jisung will never stop being a problem. that thought doesn’t feel as heinous as it once had.
a/n: hello lovebugs :3 :3
i can’t help it really i can’t the parasites in my brain take over and move my stupid little thumbs in a way that just writes perv hanji without me even knowing until i see the finished product in my drafts i swear
as always,, requests are open!! i promise i will eventually post the requests that are pending… i just have a worm in my noggin, as previously mentioned
I OVERSTIMULATED MY BOYFRIEND AND THE RESULTS WERE SHOCKING!
𓂃⋆.˚ cw: 18+ / MDNI, sub!han, riding, slight subspace at the end, a lot of whimpering?
jisung’s wrists are bound tight to the headboard, back arched sharply off the mattress as you sink down on his cock again, swallowing every thick inch until your ass meets his hips. he’s drenched in sweat, chest glistening, pretty cock buried so deep inside your soaked cunt that you can feel him twitching against your cervix.
“fuck—baby,” he sobs, voice completely shattered.
you roll your hips hard, grinding your clit against his pelvis with every filthy slide. the wet, squelching sound of your dripping pussy taking his cock fills the room. every time you lift up, his shaft shines with your cum, veins bulging, slick with the mess dripping down from where you’re joined.
“look at you, sungie,” you purr, clenching around him on purpose. “so deep in you can’t even think straight.”
his eyes are glassy and unfocused, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks and his mouth hangs open, drooling as you bounce harder on his oversensitive dick. “baby… baby, please—your pussy’s too good,” he slurs, hips jerking up desperately. “gonna cum again… i can’t—can’t stop—”
you lean down and bite his neck, sucking hard while you ride him mercilessly. jisung cries out, cock pulsing violently inside your tight heat, another thick spurt of precum flooding you.
“that’s it, baby boy. fill me up. i want everything.”
you fuck him faster, ass slapping loudly against his thighs, cunt squeezing and fluttering around his cock like it’s trying to milk him dry. his head thrashes against the pillow, broken moans and sobs spilling out nonstop.
“baby—baby, i love you—fuck,” he wails, completely lost. “so wet… so fucking tight… please let me cum inside you again—”
you slam down on him, grinding deep as you choke out a moan. the angle has his tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. jisung’s whole body locks up and he cums hard for the third time, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum straight into your pussy. So much of it that it squirts out around his cock with every thrust,messy, dripping all the sheets.
even while he’s still spurting, you keep bouncing on his twitching, oversensitive dick, forcing him through the overstimulation and his sobs turn into raw, broken cries.
“too much—baby, it’s too much—ah—fuck—your pussy’s draining me—”
but you don’t stop until his eyes roll back and his mouth falls slack, body limp and trembling in full subspace. only then do you slow down, keeping his spent cock buried deep inside your cum-stuffed cunt as you gently stroke his tear-soaked face.
“my good boy,” you whisper, kissing his trembling lips. “say it again for me, sungie.”
his voice comes out tiny and floaty, sweet despite the absolute wreck you’ve made of him.
“baby… love you, baby…”
a/n: spreading sub!han agenda everywhere all around the world
—the room is quiet… but not peaceful. it’s the kind of silence that feels heavy, like the air already knows what’s about to happen.
𝓟airing::skz x reader
𝓖enre::smut, tension, romance,pure PWP
𝓦arnings::Creampie, dominant energy,unprotected sex,overstimulation,multiple orgasms,edging e begging,dom/Sub,riding kink humiliation kink,noona kinkbreast sucking,choking,hair pulling, slapping,light degradation + heavy praise,brat taming
𝓐/n ::I’m only writing fics in this aesthetic from now on because I loved it 🤍
𝓦ords ::10k
♫ :: The Weeknd – Often
M.list / m.skz / TAGLIST
𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧
The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the bedroom walls, painting everything in warm amber and deep black. Bang Chan sat against the headboard, shirtless, his broad shoulders tense with the kind of restraint only he could maintain for so long. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, the faint outline of his hardening cock already visible beneath the fabric. He watched you with dark, focused eyes — the responsible leader, the one who always stayed in control.
“You sure about this, baby?” he asked, voice low and rough, like gravel wrapped in velvet. His hands rested on your thighs as you straddled him, but he wasn’t gripping hard. Not yet. “We can go slow. I don’t want to rush you.”
You smiled down at him, fingers tracing the defined lines of his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your palm. He was trying so hard to be careful, to set the pace, to make sure everything stayed safe and measured. That was Chan — always observing, always calculating, always the one in charge.
But tonight, you wanted something different.
You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his ear. “I don’t want slow, Chan. I want you.”
Before he could respond, you reached between your bodies and freed his cock from his sweatpants. He was already rock hard, thick and heavy, the tip glistening with precum. A sharp inhale escaped him as your fingers wrapped around his length, stroking slowly from base to tip.
“Fuck…” he breathed, jaw clenching. His hands flexed on your thighs, fighting the urge to take over. “You’re going to kill me like this.”
You positioned yourself over him, rubbing the swollen head of his cock against your slick folds. You were soaked — dripping with need after teasing him for the past twenty minutes. Chan’s eyes darkened as he watched the way your wetness coated him, his breathing growing heavier.
“Baby, wait — condom—” he started, always the responsible one.
You shook your head, sinking down just enough for the tip to stretch your entrance. “I’m on the pill. I want to feel all of you.”
A deep groan tore from his throat as you lowered yourself further, taking him inch by inch. The stretch was delicious, filling you completely until your ass met his thighs. Chan’s head fell back against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut, veins standing out on his neck from the sheer effort of staying still.
“Shit… you’re so tight,” he rasped, voice strained. “So fucking wet for me.”
You stayed there for a moment, letting yourself adjust to his size, feeling every thick vein and ridge inside you. Then you began to move.
Slow at first — rolling your hips in deliberate circles, grinding down so your clit rubbed against his pelvis with every motion. Chan’s hands slid up to your waist, gripping firmly, but he let you set the pace. His eyes were locked on where your bodies joined, watching his cock disappear inside your pussy again and again.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice low and encouraging, still trying to maintain control. “Take what you need, love. I’ve got you.”
But you wanted more.
You planted your hands on his chest for leverage and started riding him harder. Faster. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with your moans and his ragged breathing. Your tits bounced with every downward thrust, and Chan’s gaze burned as he watched them, one hand moving up to cup and squeeze one breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple.
“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned. “So beautiful riding my cock like this.”
You leaned forward, changing the angle so he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as pleasure shot through your body. Chan’s hips twitched upward instinctively, driving himself deeper, but he caught himself, forcing his body to stay still.
“Don’t hold back,” you whispered against his mouth before kissing him hard. “I want all of you.”
That seemed to crack something in him.
His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave marks. His kisses grew hungry, tongue sliding against yours as you kept riding him, faster now, your pussy clenching around his thick length with every bounce.
“God, you feel incredible,” he growled between kisses, voice dropping even lower. “So wet… so warm… squeezing me so fucking tight.”
You sat up straighter, hands braced on his shoulders, and began bouncing properly — long, deep strokes that made his cock slam into you repeatedly. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy taking him echoed loudly. Chan’s abs flexed beneath you, his breathing turning into heavy pants.
He was losing control. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way sweat beaded on his forehead, the way his hips started meeting yours halfway despite his efforts to stay still.
“Baby… slow down,” he tried, even as his voice cracked. “I’m supposed to— fuck — I’m supposed to take care of you.”
You smiled down at him, grinding down hard and rolling your hips in tight circles. “Then take care of me by letting me fuck you until you can’t think straight.”
A broken moan left his lips. His head fell back again, exposing the strong column of his throat. You leaned down and sucked on his neck, biting gently, and that was it.
Chan’s control finally shattered.
With a deep, guttural growl, his hands grabbed your ass hard, fingers spreading your cheeks as he started thrusting up into you with raw power. The bed creaked violently under the force. He fucked you from below like a man starved, hips snapping up to meet every downward bounce you made.
“Fuck… fuck, you win,” he panted, voice wrecked. “Ride me. Use me. Take everything.”
You moaned loudly, the new intensity making your walls flutter around him. His cock was so deep, hitting places that made stars explode behind your eyes. You kept riding him through it, thighs burning, but the pleasure was too good to stop.
Chan’s eyes were half-lidded, dark with lust, watching you with something close to reverence and desperation. One of his hands moved between your bodies, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight, fast circles.
“Come on, baby,” he urged, voice rough. “Cum on my cock. Let me feel you.”
The combination of his thumb on your clit and his thick cock stretching you pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm hit hard, pussy clenching rhythmically around him as you cried out his name. Waves of pleasure crashed through you, making your whole body shake.
But you didn’t stop riding him.
Even as your orgasm faded, you kept moving, slower now but deep, savoring the way he throbbed inside your sensitive walls. Chan groaned, his own pleasure building rapidly.
“You’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that,” he warned, breath hot against your collarbone.
“Good,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him messily. “I want you to cum inside me. Fill me up, Chan.”
His eyes rolled back for a second, a broken moan escaping him. “Fuck… you’re going to ruin me.”
You picked up speed again, riding him with everything you had left. Your ass slapped against his thighs repeatedly, your pussy creamy and dripping down his cock and balls. Chan’s fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as he helped guide you, meeting every bounce with powerful thrusts.
“I’m close,” he gasped, voice strained. “So fucking close, baby.”
You clenched around him deliberately, rolling your hips in that way you knew drove him crazy. “Then cum for me. Let go.”
With a deep, guttural groan that sounded almost pained, Chan came hard. His cock pulsed inside you, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into your pussy. He kept thrusting through it, hips stuttering, filling you until you could feel it leaking out around his length.
Even after he finished, he didn’t let you go. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you flush against his chest as both of you panted heavily. His cock was still buried deep inside you, twitching with aftershocks.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmured against your hair, voice hoarse. “I was supposed to stay in control… supposed to take care of you.”
You lifted your head, smiling softly as you brushed damp hair from his forehead. “You did take care of me. But sometimes I like taking care of you too.”
Chan let out a tired, breathless chuckle, dimples appearing despite how wrecked he looked. His hands stroked up and down your back tenderly, even as his cock remained inside you, softening slowly.
“Give me ten minutes,” he said, kissing your temple. “Then we’re doing that again. But this time, I’m not holding back at all.”
You laughed softly, nuzzling into his neck, feeling his cum slowly drip out of you. The responsible, controlled Bang Chan had finally cracked — and you couldn’t wait to break him again and again until both of you were completely exhausted, spent, and utterly satisfied.
The night was far from over.
————
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨
The room was dark except for the faint city lights filtering through the half-closed curtains. Minho sat against the headboard, completely naked, his lean, toned body relaxed but his eyes sharp and dangerous. His cock was already hard, thick and flushed, resting against his lower stomach as he watched you with that signature smirk — half amusement, half hunger.
You straddled his thighs, heart racing. He had been teasing you for the past hour, edging you with his fingers and tongue until you were dripping and desperate. Now he wanted you to ride him… but on his terms.
“Get on it,” he ordered, voice low and calm, almost bored. One hand lazily stroked his cock, spreading the precum over the swollen head. “You wanted to be on top so bad. So show me what you can do.”
You positioned yourself over him, rubbing your soaked pussy along his length before slowly sinking down. The stretch was intense — Minho was thick, and the way he filled you made your mouth fall open in a silent moan. Inch by inch, you took him until your ass met his thighs, your walls fluttering around his cock.
Minho let out a quiet hum of approval, but his hands stayed at his sides for now. “Good girl. Now move.”
You started rolling your hips, finding a rhythm. Slow and deep at first, savoring the way his cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. Minho’s eyes never left your face, watching every expression, every gasp.
“Faster,” he commanded.
You obeyed, bouncing on his cock with more force. The wet sounds of your pussy taking him filled the room — obscene and loud. Your tits bounced with every movement, and Minho’s gaze dropped to them, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Riding my cock like a needy little slut. Does it feel good, baby?”
“Yes— fuck, yes,” you moaned, hands braced on his chest as you rode him harder.
Minho suddenly sat up straighter, one hand gripping your waist tightly while the other tangled in your hair. He yanked your head back sharply, exposing your throat. The sting made you clench around him.
“Don’t you dare slow down,” he growled against your neck before biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “You’re going to fuck yourself on my cock until your legs give out. Understand?”
You whimpered, nodding as best as you could with his fingers twisted in your hair. He released your hair only to slap your ass hard, the sharp sound echoing. The burn spread across your skin, making you jolt and sink deeper onto him.
“Answer me properly,” he demanded, slapping your ass again, harder this time.
“Yes— I’ll keep riding you,” you gasped.
“That’s my good little whore.”
He leaned back again, but his control never wavered. Every time your pace slowed even slightly, his hand came down on your ass — firm, stinging slaps that made you cry out and move faster. Your thighs were already burning, but the mixture of pain and pleasure kept you going.
Minho’s hands roamed your body possessively. He pinched your nipples, twisted them, then soothed them with his palms. His cock throbbed inside you, thick and hot, stretching you open with every bounce.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over me,” he groaned, voice rougher now. “Such a messy pussy. Keep going. I want to feel you get tired.”
You were getting closer, the angle hitting your g-spot perfectly with every downward thrust. Your moans grew louder, more desperate. Minho noticed.
“Don’t you dare cum yet,” he warned, grabbing your hair again and pulling your face close to his. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “You cum when I say so. Keep fucking riding.”
Tears of overstimulation pricked your eyes as you forced yourself to keep bouncing. Your legs trembled, muscles screaming, but Minho’s grip on your hips kept you moving. He started thrusting up to meet you, driving his cock even deeper, making you see stars.
“Minho— please—” you begged, voice breaking.
“Please what?” He slapped your ass again, then gripped both cheeks, spreading them as you rode him. “Please let you cum? Or please fuck you harder like the desperate slut you are?”
“Both— fuck, please—”
He chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous. Without warning, he yanked your hair back again, harder this time, forcing you to arch your back as you kept bouncing on his cock.
“You’re getting tired already, aren’t you?” he taunted, watching your face. “Legs shaking. Pussy clenching so fucking tight. But you’re not stopping. Not until I’m done with you.”
Your thighs burned. Sweat slid down your back. Every bounce sent jolts of overwhelming pleasure through you, but exhaustion was setting in. Still, Minho refused to let you slow down. He slapped your ass repeatedly — left, right, left again — each strike pushing you back into a faster rhythm.
“Faster,” he growled. “Ride me like you mean it.”
You sobbed in pleasure, pushing through the fatigue, slamming yourself down on his cock over and over. The wet, filthy sound of your pussy swallowing him was constant now. Minho’s breathing grew heavier, but he still looked in complete control, eyes locked on where your bodies connected.
“Look at that,” he murmured, almost reverently. “My cock disappearing inside your greedy little cunt. So fucking pretty.”
He reached between your bodies and rubbed your swollen clit with two fingers, fast and precise. Your vision blurred.
“Minho— I can’t— I’m gonna—”
“Cum,” he finally allowed, voice rough. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”
Your orgasm crashed into you violently. You cried out, body shaking as your pussy spasmed hard around his thick length. Minho groaned, feeling you squeeze him, but he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting up into you, prolonging your orgasm until you were shaking uncontrollably.
But he still wasn’t done.
Even as you came down, legs trembling violently, he gripped your hips and forced you to keep moving.
“Don’t you fucking stop,” he hissed, pulling your hair again. “You’re going to keep riding until I cum. Understand?”
You nodded weakly, tears slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming intensity. Your body was exhausted, thighs screaming, but Minho’s dominance kept you going. He slapped your ass again, harder, the sting cutting through the haze.
“Faster. Milk my cock.”
You pushed through, bouncing on him with everything you had left. Minho’s control finally started slipping — his hips snapping up more desperately, low grunts escaping his lips.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. “Such a good little fucktoy. Taking my cock so well even when you’re tired.”
Your second orgasm built quickly, faster than you expected. Minho could feel it.
“Again,” he ordered. “Cum again. Now.”
You shattered around him a second time, sobbing his name. The feeling of your pussy pulsing around him finally pushed Minho over the edge.
With a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy, filling you until it leaked out around his cock. He kept thrusting through it, hips stuttering, making sure every drop stayed deep inside you.
For a moment, the only sounds were your heavy breathing and the wet drip of his cum leaking from your used pussy.
Minho finally released your hair, his hand moving to stroke your back almost gently. But his voice was still dark when he spoke against your ear.
“You did so well, baby. Riding me until you couldn’t anymore… Such a perfect little slut for me.”
He pulled you down against his chest, still buried inside you, his arms wrapping around your exhausted body. His lips brushed your temple.
“Next time,” he whispered, voice low and promising, “I won’t let you stop even after I cum.”
You shivered in his arms, completely spent, thighs still trembling around him.
Minho smiled against your skin — that dangerous, beautiful smile.
And you knew he meant every word.
————
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧
Changbin’s back was pressed against the headboard, muscular arms gripping the sheets tightly as sweat rolled down his chest. His breath came out in short, desperate pants. You had been riding him for what felt like forever — at least twenty-five minutes straight — bouncing, grinding, and using his thick cock like it was nothing more than your personal toy.
And he was losing his mind.
“Fuck— baby… please…” he whimpered, voice hoarse and broken. His usually deep, powerful voice had turned into soft, needy whines. His cock was so sensitive now, throbbing painfully inside your tight, soaked pussy after being ridden without mercy for so long.
You didn’t stop.
Instead, you planted your hands firmly on his broad chest, using his strong body for leverage as you lifted your hips and slammed back down again, taking every inch of him in one smooth motion. The wet, filthy sound of your pussy swallowing his cock echoed loudly in the room.
“Mmm… you feel so good, Binnie,” you moaned, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “Your cock is so thick… perfect for me to use.”
Changbin’s head fell back against the headboard with a thud, a broken moan escaping his lips. His muscular thighs trembled beneath you. “It’s too much… I’m so fucking sensitive— ahh!” His voice cracked as you ground down hard, rolling your hips in tight circles so his swollen tip rubbed against that perfect spot deep inside you.
You didn’t care.
You were chasing your own pleasure, using him shamelessly. Your juices coated his cock, his balls, and even dripped down onto the sheets. Every time you sank down, more of your cream painted his skin.
“Shit— baby, slow down a little,” he begged, voice turning into a needy whimper. His hands moved to your hips, not to stop you, but just to hold on. “My cock… it’s so sensitive now. You’ve been riding me for so long…”
You leaned forward, biting his bottom lip before pulling back with a smirk. “But you love it, don’t you? You love being my toy.”
Changbin’s cheeks flushed deep red. He nodded frantically, eyes glassy with overwhelming pleasure. “Yes— fuck, yes I do. Use me… use my cock however you want. It’s yours.”
Satisfied with his answer, you sat up straighter and started bouncing harder. Your ass slapped loudly against his muscular thighs with every drop. The wet squelching sounds were obscene. Changbin’s thick cock stretched you so perfectly, veins dragging against your walls with every movement.
He was a mess underneath you.
His abs clenched and unclenched rapidly. Sweat made his skin glow under the low lights. His nipples were hard, chest heaving as he tried to breathe through the overstimulation. Every time you slammed down, a high-pitched whine left his throat.
“Fuck— I’m so sensitive… it hurts but it feels so good,” he sobbed, eyes squeezing shut. “Please don’t stop… don’t stop using me.”
You reached back and grabbed his balls gently, massaging them while you kept riding him relentlessly. Changbin’s whole body jerked, a loud moan tearing from his chest.
“Ahh— baby! That’s— fuck, that’s too much!” His voice cracked again, turning into desperate little whimpers. “I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that…”
“You already came twice, Binnie,” you purred, not slowing down even a bit. “And you’re still so hard for me. Such a good toy.”
You sped up, riding him with pure selfishness. Your tits bounced wildly in front of his face. Changbin’s eyes were locked on them, tongue hanging out slightly as he panted like a dog in heat. He wanted to touch them so badly, but you had told him to keep his hands on the sheets — and he obeyed like an obedient puppy.
“God… you’re so deep,” you moaned, grinding down especially hard so his cock pressed against your cervix. “I could ride you for hours.”
Changbin let out a pitiful whine, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes from the overwhelming sensitivity. His cock was aching, raw, and incredibly sensitive, but he couldn’t get enough of you using him like this.
“Please… kiss me,” he begged softly, voice trembling. “I need you closer.”
You leaned down, pressing your chest against his as you kept bouncing on his cock. Your lips met his in a messy, desperate kiss. He moaned into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours sloppily as you fucked yourself on him. The new angle made his cock hit even deeper, and you both groaned at the same time.
“You’re getting louder, Binnie,” you teased against his lips. “Are you gonna cum again?”
He nodded frantically, hips twitching upward weakly, trying to meet your movements even though he was exhausted. “I think so… you’re squeezing me so tight— fuck, I can’t hold it.”
You sat back up and started riding him with renewed intensity, hands planted on his shoulders for balance. Your pussy clenched around him deliberately on every downstroke, milking his oversensitive cock.
Changbin’s head thrashed against the pillow. “Baby— baby, slow down! I’m too sensitive— ahh, shit— I’m cumming!”
His third orgasm hit him hard. His cock pulsed violently inside you as he spilled again, thick ropes of cum flooding your already soaked pussy. His whole body shook, muscles straining as he moaned loudly, almost sobbing from the intensity.
But you still didn’t stop.
Even as he was cumming, you kept bouncing on his cock, chasing your own high. The overstimulation made Changbin’s eyes roll back, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure and pain.
“Too much— too much— please, I can’t—” he whimpered, tears slipping down his cheeks now. His cock was twitching wildly, still hard despite how sensitive it was. Every movement of your pussy felt like electricity shooting through his body.
You moaned loudly, feeling another orgasm building fast. “Just a little more, baby. Let me use you until I cum.”
Changbin nodded weakly, completely submissive. “Yes… use me. I’m your toy… only yours.”
You rode him through his orgasm and beyond, the mix of his cum and your juices making everything even wetter and sloppier. The sounds were absolutely filthy. You reached down and rubbed your clit fast, using his cock to push yourself over the edge.
When your orgasm finally hit, it was powerful. Your walls clenched hard around his oversensitive length, milking him as you cried out. Your body shook on top of him, thighs trembling violently from how long you had been riding.
Changbin whimpered underneath you, feeling your pussy flutter and squeeze him. “So tight… you’re squeezing me so good— fuck…”
You kept moving slowly through your orgasm, grinding down on him until the pleasure became too much for both of you. Finally, you collapsed forward onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, bodies slick with sweat.
Changbin’s arms wrapped around you immediately, holding you close even though his cock was still buried deep inside you, twitching with aftershocks. He was a complete mess — flushed cheeks, teary eyes, and soft little whimpers still leaving his lips every few seconds.
“You’re going to kill me one day,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “Using me like that… fuck, I love it so much.”
You smiled against his neck, gently clenching around his sensitive cock just to hear him whine again. He did — a soft, broken sound that made you giggle.
“Too sensitive?” you asked teasingly.
He nodded, hiding his face in your hair. “Yes… but don’t pull off yet. I want to stay inside you a little longer.”
You stayed like that for a long time — your body resting on top of his strong frame, his cock still buried deep, slowly softening inside your cum-filled pussy. Changbin kept stroking your back with shaky hands, whispering how much he loved being used by you.
Even completely exhausted and overstimulated, he was already thinking about the next time you would ride him until he couldn’t think straight.
Because for Changbin, there was nothing hotter than being your personal toy.
————
𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧
The bedroom was bathed in soft, golden light from the bedside lamps. Hyunjin lay sprawled elegantly across the silk sheets like a Renaissance painting brought to life — long limbs relaxed, dark hair fanned out across the pillow, lips slightly parted. His lean, toned body was completely bare, skin glowing under the warm lighting. His cock rested hard and flushed against his lower stomach, already leaking precum just from watching you.
He looked utterly relaxed. Almost lazy.
A spoiled, beautiful pillow princess who had no intention of doing any work tonight.
You climbed onto the bed and straddled his narrow waist. Hyunjin’s eyes sparkled with mischief and lust as he looked up at you, a slow, dreamy smile spreading across his face.
“Are you going to take care of me tonight, angel?” he asked, voice low and smooth like velvet. He didn’t move to touch you. He simply rested his hands beside his head on the pillow, wrists relaxed, completely surrendering control.
You leaned down and kissed him deeply. He hummed softly into your mouth, letting you lead the kiss, his tongue lazily brushing against yours. When you pulled back, his lips were shiny and his cheeks already flushed.
“Yes,” you whispered against his jaw. “I’m going to use you until I can’t anymore.”
Hyunjin’s breath hitched, but his smile only grew. “Good. I want to watch you.”
You reached between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around his cock. He was incredibly hard, long and beautifully thick, the head glistening. You stroked him slowly, spreading his precum, and Hyunjin let out a soft, breathy moan, eyes fluttering but never closing completely. He wanted to see everything.
You positioned yourself over him and slowly sank down.
A long, pretty whimper left Hyunjin’s lips as your tight, wet heat enveloped him inch by inch. His head pressed back deeper into the pillow, exposing the elegant line of his throat.
“Fuck… you feel so good,” he breathed, voice already turning breathy. “So warm and tight around me…”
You didn’t give him time to adjust. Once he was fully buried inside you, you started moving — slow, deep rolls of your hips at first, grinding down so your clit rubbed perfectly against his pelvis. Hyunjin’s hands stayed on the pillow, fingers curling loosely into the sheets as he let you use him.
His eyes were half-lidded, dark with pleasure, watching intently as your body moved on top of him. Every bounce made your breasts sway, and his gaze stayed locked there, mesmerized.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured dreamily. “Riding me… using my cock like it’s your favorite toy. Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.”
You planted your hands on his chest for balance and began bouncing properly. The wet, slick sounds of your pussy sliding up and down his cock filled the room. Hyunjin’s mouth fell open in a silent moan, his long lashes fluttering every time you slammed down.
He looked ethereal — flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair messy against the white pillow. A spoiled prince completely lost in pleasure.
“Harder,” he whined softly, hips twitching just slightly underneath you, but never really thrusting up. He wanted you to do everything. “I want to feel you take me deeper.”
You obeyed, riding him faster, your ass slapping against his thighs with every drop. Sweat started to glisten on your skin. Hyunjin’s cock throbbed inside you, hitting all the right spots as you angled your hips just right.
“Oh my god…” he moaned beautifully, the sound high and melodic. “You’re going to ruin me like this. My cock is so deep inside you… I can feel everything.”
You leaned forward, changing the angle, and Hyunjin’s eyes rolled back for a moment. A broken, pretty whimper escaped him as you rode him harder, your pussy clenching around his length with every stroke.
His hands finally moved — not to control you, but to rest gently on your thighs, fingers stroking your skin tenderly.
“You’re so wet,” he gasped, voice trembling with pleasure. “I can hear how soaked you are. You love using me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you moaned, bouncing faster. “I love your cock, Hyunjin. It’s mine tonight.”
A shudder ran through his body at your words. His head pressed deeper into the pillow, lips parted as soft, needy sounds kept spilling out of him. He looked completely blissed out — the picture of a pampered pillow princess who was more than happy to just lie there and be used for your pleasure.
You sat up straighter again, hands on his abs, and started riding him with pure selfishness. Long, powerful strokes that made his cock disappear completely inside your dripping pussy every time. The wet squelching sounds grew louder. Your juices were dripping down his balls and onto the sheets.
Hyunjin’s breathing was ragged now, but his eyes stayed on you, drinking in every detail — the way your tits bounced, the way your face twisted in pleasure, the way your pussy stretched around him.
“Faster, angel… please,” he begged sweetly, voice cracking. “Use me more. I want to feel you get tired on my cock.”
Your thighs were already burning, but the pleasure was too good. You kept riding him relentlessly, slamming down hard, grinding in circles, then bouncing again. Hyunjin’s moans grew louder, more desperate, but he never once tried to take control. He simply lay there, letting you fuck yourself on him like he was nothing but a beautiful, breathing dildo for your satisfaction.
“Fuck— I’m so close already,” he whined, fingers tightening slightly on your thighs. “You’re going to make me cum just by using me like this…”
You reached down and rubbed your clit while continuing to ride him, chasing your own orgasm. Hyunjin watched with hooded eyes, lips trembling.
“You look so pretty when you’re about to cum,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Keep going. Take what you need from me.”
Your orgasm hit you hard. You cried out, body shaking as your pussy clenched violently around his cock. Hyunjin moaned loudly at the feeling, his own hips twitching helplessly beneath you as you kept riding him through your climax, prolonging your pleasure.
Even after you came, you didn’t stop.
Your legs were exhausted, trembling violently, but you kept bouncing on his sensitive cock. Hyunjin’s eyes widened, a high-pitched, broken moan tearing from his throat.
“Baby— oh fuck, I’m so sensitive now…” he whimpered, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. “You’re still riding me… you’re going to kill me.”
But he made no move to stop you. If anything, his cock twitched harder inside you, clearly loving every second of being used.
You leaned down, pressing your chest against his as you kept moving your hips. Your lips brushed his ear.
“I’m not done with you yet, princess.”
Hyunjin let out a shaky, delighted laugh that turned into a moan as you clenched around him. His hands finally moved up to gently hold your waist, but only to feel you — not to guide.
“Yes… keep using me,” he breathed, voice completely fucked out. “I’m your pretty toy tonight. Ride me until you can’t move anymore.”
You sat back up and kept going, slower now but deep, grinding hard on every downstroke. Hyunjin’s head was thrown back, eyes half-closed in ecstasy, soft whimpers and pretty moans continuously falling from his lips. His cock was throbbing, oversensitive, but he was clearly in heaven.
Every time you slammed down, his body jolted beautifully beneath you. His abs flexed, chest heaving, nipples hard. He looked like the most exquisite work of art — flushed, ruined, and completely surrendered to your pleasure.
You rode him for what felt like ages, chasing a second orgasm while Hyunjin fell apart underneath you. His whimpers turned into desperate, high-pitched cries as overstimulation took over.
“Baby… I’m so close again,” he sobbed softly. “Please don’t stop. I want to cum while you’re using me.”
You rode him harder, ignoring the burning in your thighs. When your second orgasm crashed over you, Hyunjin followed right after, moaning your name like a prayer as thick ropes of cum spilled deep inside you. His body shook elegantly beneath you, hands finally gripping your hips tightly as he came.
Even then, you kept moving slowly, milking every last drop from his sensitive cock until both of you were completely spent.
You finally collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily. Hyunjin’s arms wrapped around you lazily, holding you close while his cock softened inside you. He pressed soft, tired kisses to your forehead, a blissful smile on his flushed face.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered dreamily. “I love being your pillow princess… I could let you use me like that forever.”
He nuzzled into your neck, clearly satisfied and glowing with pleasure.
“Next time,” he murmured sleepily, voice soft and content, “I want you to ride me even longer.”
————
𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱
The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and wet skin slapping together. Felix lay on his back, golden hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his freckled cheeks flushed a deep pink. His eyes were glassy, half-lidded with overwhelming pleasure and desperation as you rode him relentlessly.
He was a complete mess underneath you.
“Baby… please…” Felix whimpered, his voice high and broken. His hands clutched desperately at your waist, fingers digging into your skin like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. Every time you sank down on his cock, he let out a needy, shaky moan, hips twitching up instinctively.
You had been riding him for nearly thirty minutes straight, switching between fast bounces and slow, torturous grinds. His cock was rock hard inside you, throbbing and oversensitive, but you still hadn’t let him cum.
Felix looked so fucking cute like this — desperate, teary-eyed, clinging to you like you were his lifeline.
“Fuck— you feel so good,” he gasped, voice cracking. His arms wrapped tightly around your back, pulling your chest flush against his. He buried his face in your neck, lips brushing your skin as he panted hotly. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. Please let me cum. Just once… I’ll be so good for you.”
You slowed your movements, grinding down deep and rolling your hips in circles, feeling every inch of his thick cock stretching you. Felix let out a broken sob, his fingers trembling against your back as he held you even tighter.
“Angel… my angel,” he whined, voice muffled against your neck. “You’re so wet and warm… I’m losing my mind. Please, I need to cum inside you. I’ve been so patient.”
His cock twitched violently inside your pussy, and you knew he was right on the edge again. You kept moving slowly, teasing him, enjoying the way his body shook underneath you.
Felix’s grip became almost frantic. He clung to you like a lifeline, arms locked around your waist, legs tangled with yours. His hips bucked up desperately, trying to fuck you from below, but you stayed in control, keeping the pace torturously slow.
“Baby, please…” he begged again, voice cracking with emotion. Tears were gathering at the corners of his beautiful eyes. “I’ve been holding it for so long. My cock hurts… it’s so sensitive. Just let me fill you up. I’ll do anything.”
You leaned back slightly, placing your hands on his chest as you started bouncing again — harder this time. Felix’s head fell back against the pillow, a loud, desperate moan tearing from his throat. His hands slid down to grip your ass, squeezing hard as he tried to pull you down even deeper.
“Oh my god— yes, just like that,” he cried out, eyes rolling back. “You’re going to make me cum… please don’t stop. I’m so close— so fucking close.”
His freckled chest heaved with every breath. Sweat glistened on his skin. His cock was impossibly hard inside you, pulsing with the need to release. But every time he got too close, you slowed down again, edging him cruelly.
Felix let out a frustrated, needy sob.
“Why are you being so mean to me?” he whimpered, looking up at you with those big, watery eyes. His bottom lip trembled. “I’ve been such a good boy… riding you for so long. Please let me cum. I’ll be quick, I promise. I just need to fill your pretty pussy… please, please, please.”
He looked so adorable begging like this — cheeks red, eyes glossy, voice all high and desperate. You couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss him. Felix kissed you back like a man starved, tongue sliding messily against yours as he moaned into your mouth. His arms wrapped around you even tighter, pulling you impossibly closer while you kept riding him.
When you pulled back for air, he was panting, almost crying.
“I’m begging you,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Let me cum inside you. I need it so bad. I feel like I’m going to explode.”
You smiled down at him and started riding him faster, bouncing hard on his cock. The wet, filthy sounds of your soaked pussy taking him filled the entire room. Felix’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure.
“Yes— yes— fuck, thank you!” he cried out, voice breaking beautifully. His hands gripped your waist so tightly it would probably bruise. “Don’t stop— I’m gonna cum— I’m really gonna cum this time—”
His whole body started trembling underneath you. His cock swelled even more inside your tight walls, throbbing wildly.
“Please— please let me,” he sobbed, tears slipping down his cheeks now. “I’ve been so good… I held it for you… please let your good boy cum.”
You leaned down, lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Cum for me, Lix.”
That was all it took.
Felix let out a loud, broken cry as his orgasm finally crashed over him. His back arched off the bed, hips stuttering up wildly as he came hard inside you. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy, filling you so much it started leaking out around his cock with every thrust.
He clung to you desperately the entire time, arms locked around your body, face buried in your neck as he moaned and whimpered through his intense orgasm.
“So much… I’m cumming so much,” he sobbed against your skin, body shaking uncontrollably. “Thank you— thank you— fuck, it feels so good…”
Even after his orgasm started to fade, he kept holding onto you tightly, hips still twitching as he pumped the last few weak spurts of cum deep inside you. His breathing was ragged, body limp and exhausted beneath you.
You kept moving slowly, gently riding him through the aftershocks. Felix whimpered softly, oversensitive but refusing to let you go.
“Stay… don’t pull off yet,” he begged quietly, voice hoarse and small. “I want to stay inside you. Please… just a little longer.”
You smiled and leaned down to kiss his sweaty forehead, his cheeks, his trembling lips. Felix kissed you back weakly, still clinging to you like you might disappear.
“You’re so cute when you beg,” you whispered, gently brushing his damp hair away from his forehead.
Felix blushed even deeper, hiding his face in your neck again with a shy, embarrassed whimper.
“I can’t help it…” he mumbled against your skin. “When you ride me like that… I lose my mind. You feel too good. I get so desperate.”
He tightened his arms around you, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone.
“Can I… can I cum again later?” he asked softly, voice hopeful and still a little shaky. “Even if it’s just once more… I want to fill you up again.”
You laughed softly and rolled your hips once, making him gasp.
“We’ll see, baby. But for now… you’re going to keep staying inside me while I use you a little more.”
Felix let out a needy, happy whine, nodding eagerly as he clung to you even tighter.
“Yes… use me as long as you want,” he whispered, voice full of love and desperation. “I’m yours.”
He stayed wrapped around you like that — arms locked tight, cock still buried deep inside your cum-filled pussy, breathing softly against your neck as you continued to move slowly on top of him.
Completely desperate.
Completely clingy.
And completely in love with being used by you.
————
𝐇𝐚𝐧
Jisung was trembling beneath you.
His whole body shook — thighs, arms, even his lips — as you continued to ride him slowly, deeply, using his cock like it existed solely for your pleasure. Sweat covered his forehead, his dark hair sticking to it in messy strands. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, eyes glassy with tears of overwhelming pleasure and desperation.
“P-please…” he whimpered, voice high and broken. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore, but don’t stop— fuck, please don’t stop.”
You had already made him cum twice. Thick loads of his cum were leaking out of your pussy every time you lifted your hips, making the slide even wetter and filthier. Yet Han still looked at you like he would die if you pulled off him.
You smiled down at him, rolling your hips in a slow, torturous circle.
“Look at you,” you cooed softly. “Such a desperate little slut. How many times have you cum already, Hannie?”
He whined loudly at your words, hips twitching up helplessly. “T-two… I came twice… but I need more. Please, I need to stay inside you. Your pussy feels too good— it’s so warm and tight and wet, I don’t want to leave…”
You laughed softly, and that was his undoing.
The moment the soft laugh left your lips, Jisung’s entire face burned redder. He squeezed his eyes shut in pure embarrassment, one arm coming up to cover his face.
“Don’t laugh at me…” he mumbled, voice muffled and shy. “I know I sound pathetic… but I can’t help it. You feel so fucking good I could live in your pussy.”
You laughed again, louder this time, deliberately clenching around his sensitive cock as you kept riding him. Han let out a broken moan, his body jerking underneath you.
“Stop— ahh— don’t laugh,” he begged, peeking at you from behind his arm, eyes watery. “It’s embarrassing… I sound so needy.”
“But you are needy, baby,” you teased, leaning forward so your breasts hung right above his face. “You’re my desperate, trembling boy who can’t stop cumming but still wants more.”
The sight of your tits so close made him lose it.
With a needy whine, Han surged upward, latching his mouth onto one of your breasts. He sucked hard, tongue swirling around your nipple desperately, moaning loudly against your skin as you kept bouncing on his cock. His hands grabbed your waist tightly, fingers digging in as if afraid you’d disappear.
“Mmmph— fuck,” he moaned around your nipple, sucking sloppily, switching between licking and gentle bites. “Your tits are so perfect… I love sucking them while you ride me.”
You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling his face harder against your chest. Han whimpered happily, sucking even more eagerly, spit dripping down your breast as he lost himself in the feeling.
“You’re such a messy boy,” you murmured, grinding down deep. “Sucking on my tits like you’ll die without them.”
He nodded frantically, refusing to let go of your nipple. His cock throbbed violently inside you, still hard despite cumming twice already. The overstimulation made him shake even harder, thighs quivering beneath you.
You started bouncing faster, the wet sounds of your cum-filled pussy filling the room. Han pulled off your breast with a wet pop, gasping for air, only to immediately latch onto the other one, sucking desperately.
“Gonna cum again—” he sobbed against your skin, voice muffled. “Please let me cum inside you one more time. I just want to stay buried in your pussy… it’s so good, so warm, I never want to leave—”
You clenched around him deliberately and laughed again.
Han whimpered in embarrassment, hiding his face between your breasts, still sucking greedily. “Don’t laugh… I know I’m pathetic. I’ve cum so many times but I still want more… I’m such a greedy boy for your pussy.”
“You are,” you agreed, riding him harder. “But you’re my greedy boy.”
That seemed to break him completely.
Han started crying softly — pretty tears slipping down his flushed cheeks as he clung to you, mouth still latched onto your breast. His hips bucked up weakly, trying to meet your movements even though he was exhausted.
“I’m so sensitive…” he cried, voice shaking. “My cock hurts but it feels too good. Please don’t stop riding me. I want to cum again. Please, please let me fill you up one more time.”
You rode him mercilessly, ass slapping against his thighs with every bounce. Han was a complete wreck — trembling, moaning, sucking desperately on your tits while tears rolled down his face. Every time you slammed down, a fresh wave of overstimulation made him sob around your nipple.
“You’re going to make me cum again,” he whimpered, switching to the other breast and sucking even harder, tongue flicking rapidly. “I can feel it building… please don’t edge me this time. I need it. I need to cum inside you.”
You leaned down, lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Then cum for me, Hannie. Fill me up like the desperate slut you are.”
That pushed him over the edge.
Han let out a loud, broken cry, his entire body seizing up as his third orgasm hit him like a freight train. His cock pulsed violently inside you, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your already overflowing pussy. He clung to you desperately, arms wrapped tightly around your back, face buried between your breasts as he shook and sobbed through the intense pleasure.
“So much… I’m cumming so much again,” he whimpered, voice wrecked. “Your pussy is milking me so good— fuck, I love it. I love being inside you.”
Even after his orgasm faded, he refused to let you stop. His hands gripped your waist, weakly encouraging you to keep moving.
“Don’t pull off… please,” he begged softly, still trembling. “I want to stay inside you forever. Even if I can’t cum anymore… just let me feel your warm pussy around me.”
You smiled and kept riding him slowly, grinding deep. Han whimpered at the overstimulation but didn’t protest. Instead, he went back to sucking on your breasts, gentle now, almost comforting himself with the soft flesh in his mouth.
“You’re going to kill me one day,” he mumbled sleepily against your skin, eyes half-closed in bliss. “But I don’t care. I just want to stay like this… buried in your perfect pussy while you use me.”
He looked up at you with those big, teary, adoring eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment even as he kept sucking softly on your nipple.
“Was it… too much?” he asked shyly, voice small. “When I begged like that?”
You laughed again, and Han immediately hid his face between your breasts with a shy, embarrassed whine.
“Stop laughing at meeee,” he complained cutely, voice muffled. But you felt his cock twitch inside you, still hard, still desperate for more.
You rolled your hips slowly, making him moan.
“We’re not done yet, Hannie,” you whispered. “I want to see how many more times my desperate boy can cum for me.”
Han let out a needy, shaky whimper, clinging to you tighter as he went back to sucking on your tits, completely submissive and utterly addicted to the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.
He was yours — trembling, embarrassed, desperate, and ready to let you use him until he couldn’t take it anymore.
————
𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧
Seungmin lay beneath you with that signature smug little smirk on his face, even as his chest heaved and sweat glistened on his pale skin. His hands were supposed to stay above his head, but he kept testing you — fingers twitching like he wanted to grab your hips.
“You’re really enjoying this, huh?” he muttered, trying to sound bored even though his voice was already breathy. “Using me like a toy. How pathetic.”
You raised an eyebrow and slammed down hard on his cock, making him gasp sharply.
“Pathetic?” you asked sweetly, rolling your hips in slow, torturous circles. “You’re the one who’s been moaning like a whore for the past twenty minutes, Seungmin.”
His cheeks flushed instantly, but he still tried to keep up the act.
“I’m not— ahh… fuck—” His words broke off into a pathetic, high-pitched whimper as you clenched around him. His cock twitched hard inside your soaked pussy.
You smiled darkly and started bouncing faster, your ass slapping loudly against his thighs. Seungmin’s head fell back against the pillow, but he still tried to run his mouth.
“This is boring,” he lied, biting his lip hard. “You could at least ride me properly if you’re going to use me like this—”
You cut him off by grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back, forcing him to look at you while you rode him harder.
“Keep talking shit and I’ll edge you for another hour,” you warned.
Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with something mischievous and needy. He knew exactly what he was doing. The bratty attitude was all an act — a way to provoke you into punishing him exactly how he wanted.
But he couldn’t hide how much he loved it.
His next moan was pure filth — a broken, pathetic little cry that made your pussy clench around him.
“F-fuck… you’re so mean,” he whined, voice cracking beautifully. “Using my cock like this… treating me like a fucking toy—”
You slapped his thigh hard, the sound sharp in the room. Seungmin gasped, his hips jerking up involuntarily.
“Such a bratty mouth,” you growled, riding him faster. “Maybe you don’t deserve to cum.”
His eyes widened in panic, even as his cock throbbed harder inside you.
“No— wait, please,” he begged, the bratty mask slipping for a second. “I’ll be good. I swear I’ll be good—”
You laughed and slowed down deliberately, grinding torturously slow on his oversensitive cock. Seungmin let out the most pathetic whimper you’d ever heard from him — high, needy, and completely broken.
“Don’t slow down… please don’t slow down,” he cried, hips twitching desperately beneath you. “I need it faster— fuck, I’m so close again…”
“You’ve already cum twice, Seungmin,” you reminded him, still moving painfully slow. “And you’re still acting like a spoiled little brat.”
He bit his lip, trying to hold back another moan, but it slipped out anyway — a soft, embarrassing whine that made his ears turn bright red.
“I’m not… I’m not a brat,” he mumbled, clearly lying. His hands fisted the sheets above his head as he fought the urge to touch you.
You suddenly stopped moving completely, his cock buried deep inside you.
Seungmin’s eyes snapped open, wide and desperate.
“No— no, don’t stop!” he pleaded, voice cracking. “Please move… I’ll stop being mean, I swear. Just please fuck me properly—”
You tilted your head, smirking. “Say it nicely.”
Seungmin’s face burned with embarrassment, but the need won.
“Please…” he whispered, voice small and shaky. “Please use me. Ride me until I can’t think. I want it… I want you to ruin me.”
You rewarded him by slamming down hard, riding him with brutal intensity. Seungmin’s back arched off the bed, a loud, pathetic moan tearing from his throat.
“Fuck— yes— thank you— oh my god,” he sobbed, voice getting higher and more broken with every bounce. “Your pussy is so good… so fucking tight, I can’t— ahh!”
The more you rode him, the more his tough front crumbled. His moans turned truly pathetic — high-pitched, whimpering, almost sobbing sounds that made him sound completely ruined.
You leaned forward, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head as you fucked yourself on his cock.
“Look at you,” you taunted. “All that attitude and now you’re crying like a desperate slut.”
Seungmin’s eyes were glassy with tears, lips trembling as he moaned helplessly.
“I’m sorry— I’m sorry,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “I’ll be good. I’ll be your good boy— just please don’t stop. I need to cum again. Please let me cum inside you.”
You rode him harder, the wet sounds of your cum-filled pussy obscene. Seungmin had already given you two loads, and yet he was still rock hard, twitching and throbbing inside you.
His third orgasm hit him suddenly.
“Fuck— I’m cumming— I’m cumming again—” he cried out, body shaking violently beneath you. Thick ropes of cum spilled deep inside you as he sobbed through the pleasure, tears slipping down his temples.
But you didn’t stop.
You kept riding him through his orgasm, chasing your own pleasure. Seungmin’s eyes widened in overstimulation.
“Too much— too much— ahh, fuck— it’s too sensitive!” he wailed, voice completely pathetic now. His whole body trembled, thighs quivering, but he made no real attempt to push you off.
Because he loved it.
You could see it in his eyes — the way he secretly adored being used and punished like this.
“P-please… I can’t take it,” he lied again, another bratty attempt even while crying. “You’re going to break me—”
You slapped his thigh hard and kept bouncing.
“Good,” you said coldly. “Then I’ll break you.”
Seungmin let out the most broken, beautiful sob you’d ever heard, his cock twitching wildly inside your overstimulated pussy. He was a complete mess — flushed skin, tear-streaked face, desperate whimpers and pathetic little cries spilling from his lips nonstop.
Yet every time you slowed down, he would whine and beg.
“Don’t stop… please don’t stop using me,” he cried, voice hoarse. “Even if it hurts… I want it. I want you to ride me until I can’t cum anymore.”
You leaned down and bit his neck, making him moan loudly. His wrists were still pinned above his head as you used him without mercy, chasing another orgasm while he trembled and whimpered beneath you.
When your own climax finally hit, you clenched hard around him, moaning his name. Seungmin cried out at the feeling, another weak spurt of cum leaking from his oversensitive cock.
You kept moving slowly through both your orgasms, grinding deep, making him sob from the intensity.
Seungmin looked up at you with teary, adoring eyes, completely ruined and yet still so needy.
“More…” he whispered hoarsely, voice barely audible. “Please… one more time. I want to stay inside you. Even if I can’t cum anymore… just let me feel you.”
You smiled down at your beautiful, bratty boy and rolled your hips again, making him whimper pathetically.
“Such a spoiled little prince,” you murmured, kissing his tear-stained cheek. “Begging to be used until he breaks.”
Seungmin hid his face in your neck, embarrassed but nodding desperately as he clung to you.
“Yes… I’m your spoiled brat,” he whispered, voice shaking. “Now please… keep ruining me.”
And you did.
You rode him until his moans turned into weak, broken whimpers. Until his body stopped trembling and simply melted beneath you. Until he was so overstimulated he could barely speak — only soft, pathetic little sounds leaving his lips as he let you use him exactly how he secretly craved.
Completely submitted.
Completely addicted.
And completely yours.
————
𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧
Jeongin looked like he was about to cry.
His face was flushed a deep, adorable tomato red, cheeks burning, sweat making his dark hair stick to his forehead. Those pretty fox-like eyes were glassy with tears, lashes wet as he blinked up at you. His plump lips were parted, letting out the softest, whiniest moans you had ever heard from him.
And you were still riding him.
“N-noona…” he whimpered, voice high and trembling, so fucking cute it made your pussy clench around him. “It’s too much… I-I already came three times but you’re still… ahh!”
His hands gripped your thighs tightly, fingers trembling as you continued to bounce on his cock. He was so sensitive now — his poor cock red and swollen from being used for so long, yet still rock hard inside your soaked pussy.
You smiled down at him, brushing his damp hair back gently while rolling your hips in slow, deep circles.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” you cooed. “Look at you… such a pretty, desperate boy for me.”
Jeongin let out a broken, adorable moan at your praise, his hips twitching weakly underneath you. Fresh tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, rolling down his flushed cheeks.
“I-I want to make Noona feel good,” he sobbed softly, voice cracking in the most endearing way. “Even if it’s too much… I can take it. Please keep using me. Please.”
He looked so fucking cute like this — face burning red, eyes watery, lips shiny and trembling. Every time you sank down on his cock, a high-pitched, whiny moan escaped him, his whole body jolting cutely.
“Fuck— Noona’s pussy is so warm…” he whimpered, biting his lip hard. “It keeps squeezing me… I feel like I’m going to melt. But it feels so good. So, so good—”
You leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest as you started bouncing faster. Jeongin’s eyes widened, a loud, pathetic moan tearing from his throat as his sensitive cock was stimulated even more.
“Ahh— Noona! Slow down— please, I’m too sensitive!” he cried, tears flowing freely now. His face was an absolute mess: flushed crimson, eyes sparkling with overwhelmed pleasure, lips shiny with spit.
But even as he begged you to slow down, his hands stayed firmly on your thighs, pulling you down harder every time you lifted up.
“Don’t stop…” he whispered a second later, voice small and needy. “I lied… I don’t want you to slow down. I want Noona to feel good. Use my cock as much as you want. It’s yours.”
You smiled and rode him harder, your ass slapping loudly against his thighs. The wet, filthy sounds of your cum-filled pussy taking his overstimulated cock filled the room. Jeongin’s head fell back against the pillow, exposing his pretty neck as he moaned shamelessly.
“Nngh— Noona… you’re going to make me cum again,” he sobbed, voice so adorably whiny. “I don’t know if I have anything left but… I want to. I want to cum inside you again. Please let me fill you up one more time.”
His cock throbbed violently inside you, twitching with every bounce. He was so oversensitive that every movement made his body jerk cutely, thighs shaking underneath you.
You reached down and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks while still riding him.
“You’re so cute when you cry, Innie,” you murmured. “Does it hurt?”
Jeongin nodded frantically, more tears spilling as he looked up at you with those big, watery eyes.
“It hurts… but it feels so good,” he confessed breathlessly. “My cock is so sensitive now… every time you move it feels like electricity. But I love it. I love when Noona uses me like this.”
He suddenly leaned up, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face between your breasts, whimpering softly as you kept bouncing on him.
“Noona’s tits are so soft,” he mumbled against your skin, voice muffled and needy. “Can I… can I suck them? Please?”
You nodded, and Jeongin immediately latched onto one of your nipples, sucking gently at first, then harder, moaning around it like it was his favorite thing in the world. His pretty whimpers vibrated against your skin as you rode him faster.
“Mmm— Noona…” he whined between sucks, switching to the other nipple. “You’re going to ruin me… but I want it. I want Noona to ruin her maknae.”
His words were so innocent yet so filthy, spoken in that soft, desperate voice. You couldn’t resist bouncing harder, making him cry out around your breast.
Jeongin pulled back slightly, looking up at you with teary, lovesick eyes, lips shiny and swollen.
“I’m gonna cum again…” he sobbed, voice cracking adorably. “Noona, please— can I? Can your good boy cum inside you? I’ve been so good, right? Taking everything you give me…”
You cupped his burning red cheeks and kissed him deeply, still riding him without mercy.
“Cum for me, baby,” you whispered against his lips.
That was all he needed.
Jeongin let out the cutest, most broken moan as his fourth orgasm hit him. His whole body shook violently beneath you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he clung to you like a lifeline. Thick, warm spurts of cum flooded your pussy again, even though he had already given you so much.
“Ahh— Noona! I’m cumming… I’m cumming so much again—” he cried, tears streaming down his face as pleasure overwhelmed him. His hips twitched helplessly, pushing his sensitive cock deeper into you as he rode out his orgasm.
Even after he finished, you didn’t stop moving.
Jeongin whimpered pathetically, burying his face in your neck as overstimulation took over.
“It’s too much… too sensitive… Noona, please—” he sobbed, but his arms stayed locked around you, not pushing you away. “I can’t… I really can’t take it but… don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I want to make Noona cum again. I want to be good for you.”
You kept riding him slowly, grinding deep, feeling his cum leak out around his cock with every movement. Jeongin was a shaking, whimpering, teary-eyed mess — face tomato red, lips trembling, eyes half-closed in exhausted pleasure.
“You’re so cute like this, Innie,” you praised, kissing his wet cheeks. “Crying and begging even when you’re overstimulated.”
He let out a shy, embarrassed whine, hiding his face in your neck again.
“It’s embarrassing…” he mumbled, voice small. “But I like it when Noona uses me until I cry. I like making you feel good… even if my cock feels like it’s going to explode.”
You smiled and started bouncing again, slower but deep. Jeongin moaned loudly, the sound so sweet and pathetic it made your stomach flutter.
“Noona…” he whimpered, clinging to you desperately. “I love you. I love being your good boy. Please keep riding me. Even if I can’t cum anymore… I just want to stay inside you. Your pussy feels like heaven.”
His words were so earnest, so full of love and desperation, that you felt yourself getting close again. You rode him a little faster, chasing your pleasure while Jeongin continued to moan and whimper cutely beneath you.
When your orgasm finally hit, you clenched hard around his oversensitive cock. Jeongin cried out softly, holding you tighter as you came, his own body twitching from the intensity.
You collapsed on top of him, both of you breathing heavily. Jeongin’s arms stayed wrapped around you, his cock still buried deep inside your cum-filled pussy.
He pressed soft, tired kisses to your shoulder, still trembling slightly.
“Was I good, Noona?” he asked quietly, voice hoarse and shy. “Did I make you feel good?”
You lifted your head and kissed his red, tear-streaked cheeks.
“You were perfect, baby,” you whispered. “My sweet, desperate boy.”
Jeongin smiled shyly, eyes still watery, face burning as he nuzzled into your neck.
“Then… can we stay like this a little longer?” he asked softly. “I don’t want to pull out yet. I like feeling you around me… even if I’m too sensitive.”
You nodded, gently stroking his hair as he clung to you, completely exhausted but still so eager to please.
Your adorable, overstimulated maknae — flushed, teary-eyed, and utterly in love with being used by you.
