exo x f!reader ; the exos n their fave ways to obliterate that coochie 🥰
⟢ requested by this lovely anonie <3 ty babie!
content: 18+/mdni 3.5k+ words. established relationships. talking u thru it. bulge kink. rough. possessive. marking. overstimulation. explicit language. breeding kink. p in v. creampie. raw juseyooooo <3
⟢ jongin
standing backshots. jongin doesn’t just fuck—he devours. he takes his time, lets the anticipation build, makes you feel every second of his attention before he finally gives you what you’re begging for. and standing backshots? it’s his favorite because it’s raw, desperate, and so damn deep.
his hands are firm on your hips, pulling you back against him as his chest presses into your back, his breath hot against your neck. he likes keeping you right on the edge, teasing, dragging himself along your slick folds, letting you shiver before he finally pushes in.
“fuck, baby,” he groans, voice thick, rough. “so tight—how are you always this tight for me?”
his grip tightens the second you try to move, holding you in place, forcing you to take every inch at his pace. his fingers dig into your hip, guiding you back onto him, slow and deliberate, making sure you feel just how deep he is. and when he finally pulls almost all the way out? he gives you one warning—one low, husky “stay still.”
and then he slams forward, knocking the air from your lungs, your palms pressing into the nearest surface to keep yourself steady. he’s merciless. deep, measured thrusts, grinding into you between each snap of his hips, making sure you’re stretched around him, taking everything he gives you.
“you hear that?” his voice is almost teasing, breathless. “hear how fucking wet you are for me?”
and when your legs start shaking, threatening to give out, he’s already there. one arm wraps around your waist, holding you up, keeping you locked against him as he drives into you from behind, relentless. his lips are on your neck, kissing, biting, whispering filth against your skin as he loses himself in you.
“uh uh, baby. don’t you run from me.” his palm presses into your lower stomach, feeling the way he fills you, the way your body molds around him. “stay your ass right here. i’m not done with you yet.”
he’ll make sure you don’t forget it.
⟢ chanyeol
cowgirl. omg congratulations to you for bouncing on it!!!!!!!!!! chanyeol loves the way you look when you’re on top. all of you—spread out for him, trembling above him, completely at his mercy even when you’re the one in control. he wants to feel you, watch you, let you take him however you want, but if you think for even a second that he’ll just sit back and let you have your way? you’re dead wrong.
his hands are everywhere. gripping your waist, smoothing up your thighs, grabbing handfuls of your ass as he helps you move, his fingers digging into your skin as he watches you take him in, slow and teasing.
“fuck, baby.” his voice is low, wrecked, barely holding himself together. "you feel so fucking good—look at you, riding me so well."
he tries to let you set the pace, he really does, but the second you slow down, teasing, grinding instead of bouncing? his patience snaps.
his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he thrusts up into you, deep and sharp, knocking the breath right out of you.
“you think you can play with me?” his voice is a rasp, his head falling back against the pillows for a second before his dark, blown-out eyes find yours again. “nah, baby. you wanna tease me? you better be ready for this.”
he grabs you, pulling you flush against his chest, his arms caging you in as he plants his feet against the mattress and starts fucking up into you—hard. his grip is unrelenting, forcing you to take it, making sure you feel every thick, deep stroke.
“shit—you're gripping me so tight—fuck.”
he’s panting now, his lips brushing against your ear, his groans turning into deep, desperate moans as he loses himself in the way you feel around him. one hand slides up your back, threading through your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back as he leans in, lips hovering over yours.
“say my name, baby.” his voice is wrecked, pleading, demanding. “louder. let me hear you.”
and when you finally give him what he wants, his control snaps completely. he flips you over in one move, pinning you beneath him, his hands on either side of your head as he drives into you, raw and desperate, completely consumed by you.
“fuck, i need you—i need all of you—” his forehead presses against yours, his breath mixing with yours, his hips snapping faster, “you're mine, baby. you're fucking mine.”
and he’ll make sure you never forget it.
⟢ sehun
missionary (but make it intense). sehun might seem nonchalant on the outside, but don’t let that fool you. when he has you beneath him, pinned down, there’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. missionary with him isn’t just some slow, sweet affair—it’s raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that you can’t escape his gaze, even if you wanted to.
his hands are everywhere— fingers laced with yours, pinning your wrists above your head as he presses his body against yours, chest to chest, hips locked together. his thrusts are deep, measured, deliberate, each one hitting you right where you need him, each one dragging out a gasp, a moan, a whimper that only fuels him more.
his eyes stay locked on yours, dark and blown out, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in, his lips just barely brushing against yours with every thrust.
“you feel that?” his voice is a low growl, sending shivers down your spine as he grinds his hips against yours, making sure you feel every inch of him. “you’re mine—every fucking part of you.”
and he doesn’t just say it—he shows it. he shifts, angling his hips just right, making you arch up off the bed, your nails dragging down his back, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist.
his lips find your neck, teeth scraping gently before sucking a mark into your skin, claiming you in every possible way. his hands move from your wrists to your thighs, gripping, pulling you impossibly closer, deeper.
“look at me,” he demands, voice rough, almost pleading. “i want to see you. i want to see what i do to you.”
and when you meet his gaze, eyes wide and glassy, completely undone beneath him? he loses it.
his pace quickens, thrusts turning sharp, almost punishing, each one sending shockwaves through your body. but even then, he keeps his focus on you—watching every reaction, every moan, every tremble.
“fuck—just like that,” he breathes, his voice cracking, his control slipping. “let me feel you, baby. let me feel you come apart for me.”
and when you do—when your body arches into him, when you cry out his name, when you tighten around him so hard he sees stars— he doesn’t stop.
he keeps going, keeps moving, keeps fucking into you with everything he has, chasing his own release, needing to be as close to you as possible. his forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged, lips finding yours in a desperate, messy kiss as he finally lets go, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering groan.
even after, when you’re both panting, bodies tangled together, he refuses to pull away. his hands gently stroke your hair, his lips pepper soft kisses across your face, his voice a whispered promise.
“you’re mine,” he murmurs, a soft, possessive growl lingering in his words. “all mine.”
⟢ kyungsoo
doggy style. kyungsoo is a perfectionist, and that extends to the way he ruins you in bed. he likes control, likes watching your body react to every precise thrust, likes knowing that he’s the one making you lose yourself. doggy style is his ideal position—he gets to set the pace, decide just how deep he’s going to bury himself inside you, how hard he’s going to snap his hips until you’re trembling.
it starts slow, deliberate—his hands gripping your hips, spreading you open, taking his time to savor the sight of you arching for him. his voice is low, rough as he murmurs, “stay just like that.” and then the moment he decides you’re ready? his grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he slams forward, knocking the breath right out of your lungs.
he’s ruthless with it—grinding in deep, pulling almost all the way out just to thrust back in and make you whimper for more. one hand presses into the small of your back, keeping you arched perfectly for him, the other wrapping around your throat as he leans over you, voice like a growl against your ear.
“look at you.” his tone is controlled, but there’s a dark edge to it. “taking me so well. you like this, don’t you?”
and the second he hears you gasp yes—or, even better, if you’re too wrecked to speak? he chuckles, slow and dangerous, pulling out just to leave you desperate, whining, arching back for him. his palm lands hard against your ass, the sting making you jolt before he drives back in, harder this time, setting an unforgiving rhythm that has your fingers clawing at the sheets.
but kyungsoo doesn’t just fuck you—he watches you fall apart. his grip tightens when you start shaking, when your legs threaten to give out, when your moans dissolve into nothing but broken gasps. and when you do collapse forward, body trembling, he’s right there behind you, pulling you back against his chest, his hand wrapping around your jaw to turn your face to him.
“we’re not done yet.” his lips brush your cheek, deceptively soft. “you wanted more, didn’t you? keep up, baby.”
he’ll make sure you do. again and again.
⟢ junmyeon
desk/tabletop. junmyeon has an air of sophistication, but behind closed doors? he’s anything but refined. he loves bending you over the nearest surface—his office desk, the kitchen counter, even the damn piano if he’s feeling particularly indulgent. his fingers press into your back, keeping you arched just the way he likes.
"you’re gonna take all of me, right?"
his tone is teasing, calculated—but there’s an edge of warning beneath it. because junmyeon isn’t asking. he’s telling.
his fingers curl around your hip, pulling you back onto him, slow, deep, stretching you open until your breath stutters. he watches your body react to him, watches you arch further, your back curving under his touch like you’re made for him.
and that’s when he loses the last of his patience.
his grip tightens, his control slipping as he thrusts in hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. the desk shakes beneath you, papers sliding to the floor, but he doesn’t care. he’s completely focused on you, on the way you gasp his name, on the way your body clenches around him.
“fuck, baby—” his voice falters just for a second before he catches himself, regaining that controlled, commanding tone. “so tight—taking me so fucking well.”
he leans over you, his hand pressing firm against the small of your back, keeping you exactly where he wants you. his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his breath warm, teasing as he whispers,
“don’t even think about running from this.”
he picks up his pace then, driving into you harder, sharper, until your nails scrape at the wood beneath you. he’s relentless, precise, the way only junmyeon can be—like he’s planned this down to the very last detail, like he already knows exactly how to ruin you.
and when he feels you start to break beneath him, when your moans dissolve into soft, breathless whimpers? he slows, dragging it out, making you feel every thick, deep stroke.
his teasing smirk is the last thing you register before he snaps his hips forward one last time, groaning against your skin as he finally, finally gives in.
and even after, when he’s still catching his breath, his body pressed against yours, his hands stay exactly where they are. because junmyeon may be composed in public, but behind closed doors? he’s anything but refined.
⟢ baekhyun
meeeeaaaann mating press. baekhyun is controlled, precise, and unbelievably strong—and he loves using that strength to keep you exactly where he wants you. the moment he presses you down beneath him, folding your legs up against your chest, pinning you beneath his weight, you already know you aren’t going anywhere.
his grip is firm, unyielding, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he pushes you open wider, making sure there’s nowhere to hide, no way to escape the way he stretches you out. his breathing is slow, measured, his dark eyes locked onto yours as he lines himself up, the head of his cock dragging along your slick folds, teasing you, making you wait.
"ready for me, baby?" he murmurs, his voice rough, dripping with quiet dominance. he watches your lips part, watches the way your body trembles in anticipation—and then he pushes in, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch until he’s seated deep inside.
and he doesn’t move.
he stays there, his chest flush against yours, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath mixing with yours as he lets you feel it— the stretch, the pressure, the way he’s buried so deep inside you it leaves you breathless.
"fuck—look at you," he groans, his voice low and wrecked as he pulls out just an inch before snapping his hips forward, making you gasp.
and then he starts moving.
his thrusts are slow at first, devastatingly deep, grinding against you in slow, measured rolls of his hips, making sure you feel every inch. his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you wide open, making sure you take all of him, making sure you don’t run.
but then your nails rake down his back. your moans turn higher, sharper, needier. your body clenches around him so perfectly, so tight—and whatever restraint he had? gone.
he snaps his hips into you, sharp and relentless, his pace turning brutal, his thrusts hard enough to make the bed frame creak beneath you.
his hand slides down your stomach, pressing firmly, feeling the way he moves inside you, feeling how deep he is.
"ya feel that, baby?" his voice is thick, breathless. "feel how deep i am? you’re taking me so fucking well."
his other hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, just tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze, forcing you to stay in this moment with him.
"don’t look away." his thumb brushes against your jaw, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath ragged as he fucks into you harder. "i wanna see your pretty face when you cum all on my cock."
and when you finally break—when your body tenses, when your back arches, when you sob his name and tighten around him so hard it nearly makes him lose his mind?
he groans, his pace stuttering, his own release hitting just as hard as yours. his grip on you tightens, his body pressing flush against yours as he buries himself deep one last time, letting go completely.
but he doesn’t let you go.
his arms stay wrapped around you, his hands soothing over your thighs, his lips pressing soft, lazy kisses to your shoulder.
"holy fuck, sweetheart," he sighs, his voice still rough, still breathless. "so fucking perfect for me."
and when you’re too wrecked to even move, to even speak?
he just smirks, shifting his hips just slightly, still buried inside you, still keeping you folded beneath him.
"mm, let’s go again," he murmurs, "i’m not done with you yet."
⟢ minseok
reverse cowgirl. minseok is all about control, but he also loves watching you lose yourself on top of him. he leans back, arms resting behind his head, looking effortlessly relaxed—but his eyes? sharp, dark, completely locked onto the way your body moves. he lets you set the pace at first, biting his lip as he watches you roll your hips, taking him in so beautifully, your back arching as you sink down on him again and again.
but what really drives him insane? the way your ass bounces with every move.
his jaw tightens, his fingers twitch against the sheets, his restraint hanging by a thread as he watches the way you take him—so fucking deep, so perfect. he lets out a low, appreciative groan, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.
“shit, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with arousal. “look at you—fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”
he watches, transfixed, letting you ride him at your own pace—until he decides he wants more.
the second he sees your thighs tremble, your rhythm faltering just slightly, his hands are on you. strong, firm, unrelenting.
his fingers dig into your waist, holding you still before slamming his hips up, driving himself deeper into you with a force that makes you cry out.
"getting tired, baby?" his voice is teasing, smooth, dripping with amusement as he watches you struggle to keep up. he pulls you back against his chest in one swift motion, his arms caging you in as he takes full control.
his hands slide lower, gripping your ass, spreading you open just to watch the way you swallow him up with every thrust.
"fuck—look at that," he groans, his voice dark with obsession. "you see how good you take me? how perfect you are bouncing on my cock?"
his fingers dig in tighter as he guides you up and down, slow, deep, precise, making sure you feel every inch. and when he hears that soft, wrecked whimper—when your body starts to tremble again, threatening to collapse—he just chuckles, breath warm against your skin.
“don’t worry,” he murmurs against your ear, his lips grazing your jaw as his grip tightens. “i’ll take care of ya.”
and then he does—grinding up into you, rolling his hips deep, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. his fingers trail down your stomach, teasing where you’re already so sensitive, circling, stroking, pushing you closer to the edge.
"that's it," his voice turns husky, his breath ragged against your ear. "i want to feel ya come apart just like this. show me how good you can be for me."
and when you finally do—when your body locks up, your moans breaking into desperate sobs, your nails clawing at his arms— he just smirks, tilting your chin back for a deep, possessive kiss as he fucks you through it.
because with minseok? he doesn’t just let you ride him—he makes sure you fall apart on top of him.
⟢ yixing
with yixing, spooning isn’t just a position—it’s an experience. everything he does is slow, deliberate, and devastatingly deep. he loves the closeness of it—your body flush against his, your legs tangled together, your back pressed to his chest as he moves inside you, stretching you open with every slow, intoxicating stroke.
his lips never leave your skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder, his tongue flicking out to taste, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. he murmurs soft praises between breathy groans, his voice low, heavy with pure, unfiltered want.
“you feel so good, baby,” he sighs, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer, like he’s trying to mold you against him.
his free hand is restless, exploring—fingertips ghosting over your stomach, teasing the softness of your skin, dipping between your thighs with an unbearable slowness. he’s not just touching you; he’s memorizing you, learning what makes you gasp, what makes your body tense, what makes you fall apart.
his voice is gentle but firm, rasping against your ear, “let me take my time with you, baby. i wanna feel all of you.”
and god, he does.
the way he rolls his hips is devastating—unhurried, deep, so precise it feels like he’s unraveling you with every slow thrust. he doesn’t just chase his own pleasure; he savors every little reaction from you, waiting, listening, learning.
he tilts his head, pressing a kiss to your temple, and then… he adjusts just slightly, just enough to hit that perfect spot inside you, the angle making your breath stutter, your fingers digging into his arm. he notices immediately.
his grip tightens, his hand sliding down your thigh to hitch your leg higher over his, holding you there as he grinds into you, deeper, more deliberate, drawing out every shudder, every desperate moan.
“yeah, that’s it,” he breathes against your ear, his lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. “let go for me, baby. let me feel you.”
and the moment he feels your body start to tremble, your breath hitching, he doesn’t stop.
he pushes you through it, dragging you over the edge with slow, relentless precision, whispering something possessive, something sweet, his voice dripping with adoration as he holds you tighter, deeper, refusing to let you go until you’re completely undone in his arms.
even after, when your body is boneless, trembling against him, he doesn’t pull away. his lips graze over your shoulder, pressing soft, lingering kisses, his fingers drawing lazy patterns over your stomach.
“i could stay like this forever,” he murmurs, voice warm, his arms locking around you, holding you close.
⟡ summary: you ain't even friends, just enemies with benefits.
⟡ content: highly +18 content, mdni, smut, plot with porn, office au, enemies to fb (but the thing is you're not buddies lmao), mention of alcohol, swearing, mention of drunk sex, oral sex (both receiving), slight sub and dom leaning (switchies!!), fingering, marathon sex, facesitting (pussydrunk!junmyeon), masturbation, slight dacryphilia, raw sex, dirty talking, edging, slight choking, creampie, cum eating, overstimulation, squirting | junmyeon x f!reader | wordcount: 11.7k words (10.9k certified enemies behavior + 0.8k bonus!!!)
⟡ a/note: omg, it's finally here !!!! pls read the content warning first bc this is probably the nastiest thing i've ever written... but yeah, i'm not sorry !!! i really hope this is worth the wait and all the hype i've build up around. alsooo, happy birthday to the love of my life, my junmyeonnie. mhwaaa <3
You were still drained from last night and whatever reckless truce that happened.
The mattress shifted as Junmyeon moved, his heavy arm finally lifting from your waist. He didn’t bother being gentle as he untucked the covers, leaving your naked body exposed to the morning chill. You let out a frustrated whine at his sheer lack of manners.
“You’re remarkably annoying this morning,” you muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled, as you tried to tuck yourself into the sheets. “It’s dark outside, c’mon!”
Junmyeon let out a low, mocking laugh. Of course, he did it on purpose. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice grating on your nerves. You heard the metallic slide of a zipper as he stepped into his jeans. “Sunrises are inspiring, y’know?”
“Get out!” Tired of him and his effortless energy, you bolted upright, grabbed the decorative pillow beside you, and hurled it with every bit of strength you had left. Junmyeon leaned to the left, letting it thud harmlessly against the doorframe.
“Better luck next time,” he threw back, his laugh raspy and entirely too triumphant. “See you later, loser!” He was already halfway out the door.
Frustrated, you tried to make yourself sleep again, but when you were about to fall asleep, the distinct shut of the main door echoed through your quiet apartment. He was finally gone, heading back to his own place, which happened to be right next door.
The rivalry between you and Junmyeon was built in your first week; the air in the office seemed to sharpen whenever you both occupied the same room. You didn’t just disagree on everything; you two were capable of sabotaging each other if that meant the end of the other’s ego.
If you hit your sales goals, he tripled his. If he delivered a flawless presentation, you spent the next three hours perfecting a rebuttal that made his data look like a rough draft. You were both relentless, stubborn, fueled by a mutual, unspoken agreement that there was only room for one of you at the top. The “Seller of the Month” wasn’t just a prize anymore; it was the ultimate proof of superiority, and you’d rather work yourself to the bone than let him win.
The office had grown used to that tension between you. They joked about your rivalry, and saw the way you rolled your eyes when he spoke, and the way his jaw tightened whenever you took the lead in a meeting. They called it a personality clash, seeing it as an actual show.
Then came that team dinner.
The atmosphere was loud and celebratory, but you and Junmyeon were locked in your own private war. Both drunk, at the end of the table, arguing over a lead he’d clearly stolen from you.
The tension followed you on the shared taxi all the way home, finally boiling over as the elevator doors slid shut. You were barking at him, your face inches from him, fueled by months of suppressed adrenaline, ready to tear him apart—your finger poking into the fabric of his chest.
Junmyeon was tense. He didn’t argue back, at least, not with words. He moved closer, one hand slamming into the metal wall, the other one sliding down to grip your waist with bruising force. His mouth crashed onto yours to silence you. It was a collision. Stunned, you tasted his rage, but didn’t stop him. You pulled him into your space with a violence that surprised you both, your nails clawing through his shirt, searching for skin to punish.
By the time the doors opened to his—and your—floor, the war transitioned into something deeper. You two stumbled into his apartment, mouths still locked in a battle for dominance, trying to rip each other's clothes off.
The drinks had blinded you, blurring the hatred into a raw heat. Junmyeon backed you onto the bed, his movements jagged and demanding. He didn’t have to ask; your eyes said everything. You watched him drop between your legs, his eyes dark with hunger as he stripped away the last of your defenses.
When his mouth finally made contact with your soft skin, it was electric. He clearly knew what he was doing, tracing the sensitive lines of your inner thighs before focusing entirely on your pussy with a relentless hunger. Junmyeon was eating you out like he had been starving for months, his fingers hooked into your hips to hold you still while he drank you in.
“Shit—Junmyeon!”
Your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan against your folds. The sounds of wetness and his ragged, hot breath were so erotic that your legs were already shaking. He pushed harder, swirling his tongue in rhythmic circles until you were sobbing his name again, and again.
“Fuck…” he groaned. “You taste so fucking good.”
Junmyeon was winning. He knew it. You knew it, too. And yes, he wanted to be the only thing you could feel, the only thing you remembered as long as your inner thighs clamped his face, and your inner walls clenched at anything, already trembling against his mouth, knowing he was making you have the best orgasm in a long time.
But you weren’t finished. As soon as he tasted the last drop and hovered over you, your mouth crashed against his with possessive strength. When he finally sank into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to force him to stop being gentle. Of course, he got your silent beg and fucked you like your body had been made specifically for him. Each trust was a claim, each movement a silent way to call you his.
You traded bites on the shoulders and neck. You scratched down his back, your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched up to meet him, like you were competing to see who would break first. Every time he hit that perfect, sweet spot, he’d let out a growl against the crook of your neck, and you’d respond by pulling him deeper, refusing to let him have the final word.
When the end finally came, it was a mutual destruction. Junmyeon collapsed over you, his skin slick with sweat and his breathing ragged, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You weren’t any better, your fingers trembling, debating whether to hold him or not. But... both of you refused to really move.
“T-this was a mistake, Kim,” you breathed, breaking the ice, your voice a shaky whisper.
Junmyeon shifted, his jaw tightening as he looked down at you, his eyes still dark and unhinged. “The worst one of my life.”
However, his hand was already sliding back down to your hip, his thumb tracing the jagged mark he’d left there. Of course, you did fuck again that night, and the next days after... and the next weeks, like hooking up and hating each other were part of a balance.
You walked into the office with your jaw set and your stomach growling, the lack of breakfast making your temper a live wire. The moment you rounded the corner, you saw him.
Junmyeon was leaning against the edge of your desk, looking infuriatingly composed in a charcoal three-piece suit that hugged his shoulders perfectly. The silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose were a direct insult to your exhaustion—he looked stupidly, effortlessly attractive for 9 AM, especially for a man who had spent the night losing his mind in your sheets.
“You’re a minute late,” he noted, checking his watch with a slow, deliberate movement. A small, mocking smirk played on his lips. “Having trouble getting out of bed this morning?”
“Move,” you snapped, dropping your purse onto your chair with a heavy thug, “if you don’t wanna die today.”
Junmyeon let out a soft, raspy laugh. “Rude.”
“Get off my desk,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. “Go hover over somewhere else and let me work.”
“Easy, easy. I was just making sure you hadn’t fainted from exhaustion,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for you to catch his scent. “You seemed quite drained.”
“In your dreams,” you hissed, your eyes flashing. “Now get out before I report you for being a pain in the ass.”
Junmyeon straightened up, adjusting his cuffs with a smug, triumphant look. “See you at the briefing. Try to keep up.”
He could be incredibly annoying for no reason, and the urge to punch his perfect features was clear now, but he escaped before you could do anything.
And just like that, the rest of the morning was a blur of spreadsheets and mounting irritation.
“Hey, Junmyeon,” Chanyeol said, pointing toward his own neck. “You okay? You’ve got a couple of marks right there.”
You froze. Your hand was hovering over the print button, almost crumpling the documents in your other hand, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Junmyeon didn’t even flinch. He reached up, casually adjusting his tie, his expression the picture of bored indifference. “Oh, those? Just a mosquito. A very aggressive one. I think it got into my apartment last night and wouldn’t let me sleep.”
“A mosquito?” Chanyeol asked, skeptical. “That looks more like—”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon interrupted, his voice flat and professional, though you caught the way his eyes darted toward you for a fraction of a second. “Anyway, about those quarterly projections…”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek. The mental image of Junmyeon growling into your ear while you sank your teeth into his neck was a vivid memory from last night. You kept your back to them, staring intently at the printer tray, trying to erase it from your mind.
Later that day, the only thing more hollow than your stomach was your patience. You marched into the break room, desperate for a caffeine fix to dampen the hunger pangs, only to find the source of your misery already there.
Junmyeon was standing by the counter, leaning over his mug with an air of smug tranquility. Just as he reached out to lift the steaming cup to his lips, you swiped it from under his hand with a fluid, practiced motion.
“Hey!” he protested, his hand clutching at empty air as he turned a sharp glare toward you. “That’s mine. Get your own.”
“Consider it a tax,” you snapped, taking a long, defiant sip while looking him dead in the eye. “It’s entirely your fault I haven’t eaten a single thing today.”
Junmyeon let out a low, raspy chuckle, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. The movement made the charcoal fabric of his suit jacket pull tight across his chest. “Are you really this worked up over a yogurt? It was a strawberry. You don’t even like strawberries that much.”
“It was my strawberry yogurt, you thief,” you hissed. “And you knew exactly what you were doing when you cleared it out of my fridge.”
“I was hungry,” he said simply, a playful glint in his eyes that made you want to kick him. “Besides, you’re much more interesting when you’re hangry.”
You reached past him, your hand diving into his open lunch bag on the counter. Before he could react, you snatched the last thick slice of crusty bread he’d tucked away. “Then I’m taking this.”
“Hey! That’s mine!”
You stood your ground, the stolen bread in one hand and his coffee in the other, feeling the familiar adrenaline that only he could provoke.
“That’s mine now,” you muttered, already backing toward the door.
“C’mere!” he retorted, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register. “I don’t wanna repeat it again.”
You stopped at the threshold, a slow, predatory smile spreading across your face. You let your gaze drift pointedly to his neck, where the collar of his expensive shirt was still struggling to do its job.
“Junmyeon,” your voice dripping with sweet, faux-concern. “Maybe you should spend your lunch break hiding those ‘mosquito bites’. That’s a lack of professionalism, y’know?”
His smug expression didn’t just fade—it fractured to the point you thought his glasses had broken. For a split second, the composed version of him vanished.
Junmyeon opened his mouth to fire back—likely to remind you exactly who had left those marks—but the words died in his throat. He watched you stand there, defiantly chewing on his sourdough and holding his coffee like a trophy, and for once, he had no arguments.
You saw his jaw work, his eyes dark with a mixture of sheer annoyance and a kind of heat. Junmyeon looked genuinely surprised that you’d had the nerve to weaponize his own lie against him.
“Just… get out,” he finally muttered. He only had the heavy, frustrated weight of a man who knew he’d just been played at his own game.
“My pleasure,” you hummed, a purr of pure satisfaction.
You sauntered out of the break room without looking back, but you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into the back of your neck. He wouldn’t follow you, and he certainly wouldn’t admit to anyone that you were the reason for his sudden silence. Junmyeon was too proud to let the office know that his rival had just walked off with his breakfast, his caffeine, and his dignity all in one go.
As you rounded the corner back to your desk, the coffee tasted better than anything you’d ever bought yourself. You knew this victory was temporary—he’d likely spend the rest of the afternoon plotting a way to make you pay for the sourdough—but for now, the silence coming from the break room was the sweetest sound in the building.
“It was a record-breaking month,” the manager’s voice boomed in the sudden silence. “But as always, one person pushed just a little bit harder.”
Friday afternoon arrived. The stress was a living thing, fueled by the fact that the “Seller of the Month” announcement was a minute aside. Neither of you mentioned what happened again, but the way he watched you from across the meeting room told you he hadn’t forgotten the humiliation in the break room.
At the center of the room, your manager held the cream-colored envelope—the voucher for the weekend getaway.
You stood on the left, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your expression a mask of cold, professional indifference. Across the carpet, Junmyeon stood like a statue. He looked impeccable in a navy suit, his glasses catching the overhead light, but you noticed the way his fingers twitched against his thigh.
You felt Junmyeon’s gaze cut toward you. It was a silent prepare to lose. You tilted your chin up, your eyes promising him a slow, public demise.
“By a margin of only two sales.” The silence was deafening. “Kim Junmyeon is the new winner."
The room erupted into applause. Junmyeon didn’t jump for joy; he smiled with confidence, stepping forward, and took the envelope. He shook the manager’s hand, thanked the team, and then turned his head just enough to catch your eye.
The look he gave you was the look of a man who had not only won the war but was now deciding exactly how to punish his prisoner.
“Congratulations, Junmyeon,” you said, your voice dripping with a fake, honeyed warmth that you knew he absolutely loathed. You stepped forward, extending a hand. “Nobody deserves a break from all that strenuous effort quite like you do.”
Junmyeon took your hand, squeezing. He leaned in as if to give you a professional, friendly pat on the shoulder, but his hand landed on the back of your neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“Better luck next time, sweetheart,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to hear. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to actually hit your targets for once.”
“Aw, so arrogant.” Your smile never wavered as you leaned into his space, your lips almost brushing his cheek in what looked like a congratulatory gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll be too busy taking over the accounts you’re neglecting.”
You moved first. Your coworkers swarmed in, effectively diffusing the lethal air between you and Junmyeon with their oblivious enthusiasm.
“Nice work, Junmyeon! That coast trip is gonna be worth it!” Chanyeol shouted, slapping him on the back with enough force to make him stumble a half-step forward.
Junmyeon’s hand dropped from the back of your neck instantly. “Thanks, man. It was a tight race,” he said, his voice smoothing out into that polished, professional baritone that always made you want to roll your eyes.
“And hey,” Minho said, turning to you with a sympathetic wince. “You’ll get him next month. You were so close. Seriously, just one more lead and he’d be the one sitting here looking miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” you lied, forcing a sharp, practiced smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m just already planning his downfall. Someone has to keep his ego from floating away.”
“Well said!” Hana got close to you, holding your arm with a cheerful vibe. “Crash him!”
“Yup, you will need luck for next month, Kim.” Minji appeared with Sora, who was laughing.
Junmyeon let out a short, dry chuckle, tucking the voucher into his breast pocket with a flourish that was meant only for you. “Careful. Overconfidence is usually what leads to second place. But I appreciate the congratulations, guys.”
The group laughed, the tension you had been building in the dark corners of the conversation dissipating into mundane office chatter. Slowly, the crowd began to thin, people drifting back to their cubicles to finish their final Friday tasks.
Junmyeon didn’t give you a second glance. He simply turned his back on you, curving his lips in a smug smile, leaning over his desk to check an email. He knew he had pissed you off successfully.
You sat back down at your desk, not just feeling defeated, but with the urge to kill him slowly. You could see the back of his head, the way his dark hair was perfectly styled, and the way his shoulders looked broad and immovable in that suit, acting as if the win was purely professional. You hated that.
You spent the next hour typing with a ferocity that threatened your keyboard, your jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every time you heard the crinkle of the envelope from his side of the desk, your blood spiked.
By 5:00 PM, the office was a ghost town. You were still there, staring at a spreadsheet you had already finished, waiting for something. You heard the rustle of fabric, the click of a briefcase, and then his footsteps.
Junmyeon walked past your desk without stopping.
“Bye, runner-up,” he said, his voice cool and detached as he headed for the elevators.
The anger was a hot, jagged stone in your chest as you watched the elevator numbers count down. You knew how he worked; Junmyeon didn’t just play the game, he manipulated the board. He hadn’t won because he was better; he’d won because he was devious.
You waited exactly five minutes—long enough to look like you were heading home, but short enough to catch him.
The basement parking lot was a concrete tomb, smelling of damp air. You spotted his car immediately. As you approached, the driver’s side window slid down.
“Coming?” His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that skipped down your spine. He looked infuriatingly smug behind the wheel.
Your purse hung lazily off your shoulder as you walked toward the passenger door. You didn’t smile. You gave him the look he knew best—the one that promised you weren’t there to congratulate him, but to ruin his victory. You yanked the door open and dropped into the leather seat, the scent of his cologne immediately filling your lungs.
“You’re late.” His voice dropped into that dark, flirtatious register that only came out when the office cameras were off.
“Shut up,” you snapped. You reached across the center console, your fingers hooking into the silk of his tie and yanking him toward you with enough force to make his neck snap forward.
You brought your face inches from his, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “You cheated. We both know it.”
Junmyeon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his hands flying to your waist to haul you closer. A slow, dark smirk spread across his face as he looked at your mouth. “Prove it,” he challenged, his eyes flashing with that familiar, unhinged hunger. “Planning on punishing me for it?”
Junmyeon was enjoying it—the aggression, the way you treated him like a criminal. You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the muscle jump and tighten beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. His breath hitched, turning rough and shallow as he leaned into your touch, his own hands traveling up your back to pull you flush against him.
When your lips finally crashed into his, it was a collision of teeth and tongue, fueled by the bitter adrenaline of the afternoon. It was angry and desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening as he prepared to take exactly what he wanted.
But the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, to claim the satisfaction of a second win for the day, you pulled back.
You broke the contact abruptly, leaving him breathless and leaning into empty air. You smoothed your hair back with a clinical, cold precision and leaned back into your seat, a sharp, triumphant glint in your eyes.
“Not tonight,” you whispered, your voice a lethal purr as you reached for the door handle.
Junmyeon was speechless, leaning toward you, his pupils blown wide, his hands still hovering near your waist as if he could physically pull the “yes” out of you. “What—where you going?” His fingers were grazing the fabric of your skirt.
You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, faux-sympathetic pout pull at your lips. You reached out, patting his cheek with a condescending softness that felt like a slap.
“Oh, Junmyeon,” you sighed, your voice dripping with mock pity as you watched the frustration boil behind his eyes. “You look so... desperate. It’s almost sad. But I’m afraid I’m not on the menu tonight.”
“What do you mean?” he hissed, his jaw tightening so hard you could hear the bone click.
“It means I have much better plans,” you said, checking your reflection in the front mirror, fixing your lipstick and hair. “The girls and I are heading out. Drinks, dancing, and absolutely zero mention of you.”
The mention of your friends—the same ones who had just been strengthening your resolve to kick his ass—made his expression shift from heat to pure, unadulterated annoyance.
“You’re really going to choose a night of cheap cocktails over me?” he challenged, his voice straining, trying to sound indifferent.
“In a heartbeat,” you whispered, leaning in one last time just to leave a kiss on his jaw, leaving a perfect red mark of lipstick there before yanking the door handle. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”
You stepped out, the sound of your heels clicking sharply against the concrete like a victory march. As you shut the door, you looked back through the window one last time. He was sitting there, eyes closed, his tie crooked, his pulse visible in his neck, gripping the wheel harder enough to notice his frustration bubbling up.
You just kept walking, laughing all the way to the elevator, leaving him exactly where you wanted him: wanting more and having nothing.
Three rounds in, the alcohol had softened the sharp edges of the week, and you, Sora, Minji, and Hana were hunched over a sticky table, howling with laughter and absurdity.
“You know,” Minji said, her eyes twinkling with that specific brand of drunken mischief, “I was looking at the two of you during the announcement today. Despite all the ‘I hope you trip into a volcano’ glares... you and Junmyeon would actually make a terrifyingly hot couple.”
You nearly choked on your drink, a spray of gin and tonic barely missing the table. “Minji, please. I’d rather date a cactus!”
“I don’t know…” Sora chimed in, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking at him. It’s not just rivalry. It’s like he wants to... eat you. Or ruin you. Or both.”
“Yeah, my career,” you corrected, though your heart did a traitorous little flip.
Hana, never one to let a fire die out, poured more gasoline. “Oh, he’s definitely got that energy. Y’know, the one who looks like a perfect gentleman in that suit but probably has a whole different personality in bed.”
“Stop! This is ridiculous!” you laughed, trying to wave them off, but your face felt suspiciously warm. “He’s a robot.”
“A very attractive robot,” Minji countered, wagging her eyebrows. “C’mon. You’ve been in close quarters with him for months. Can’t you tell me you haven’t noticed the aura? He’s got that ‘good in bed’ energy. Like, really good.”
You had to bite your tongue so hard it actually hurt.
“I wouldn’t know,” you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the internal chaos. “I’m too busy trying not to get a headache from his cologne.”
“Bet he’s a biter,” Sora added thoughtfully, tapping her chin.
“Nah, he likes being bitten,” Hana corrected. “You haven’t seen his neck?”
“I saw it too!” Minji laughed. “It’s always the ones who look the most composed who are the most unhinged behind closed doors, huh?” She patted your arms, noticing you were deadly silent, swallowing your words.
The irony was so thick you could taste it. You were sitting there, while your friends spent twenty minutes dissecting the exact sexual prowess of the man who had been hooking up with you for months.
“You guys are obsessed,” you said, letting out a genuine, breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t wanna talk about my nemesis here! C’mon, it’s girl night!”
“Fine, fine.” Hana laughed, raising her glass. “But mark my words. One of these days, that tension is going to snap, and I’ll be nearby when it happens.”
It already snapped, Hana, you thought, taking a long, triumphant sip of your drink.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Minji said, her eyes widening as she slammed her glass onto the table. “I just remembered. You two live in the same building!”
The table went silent for a heartbeat before erupting.
“Oh, you’ve been holding out on us!” Sora squealed, leaning so far across the table she was practically in your lap. “That means you see him in the wild. Does he wear those suits to get the mail?”
“It’s just a building!” You tried desperately to keep your voice from trembling. “I barely see him.”
“Liar!” Hana pointed a finger at you, her face flushed with gin-induced excitement. “Look at her—she’s got that look. You’ve seen something, haven’t you? What is it? His gym routine? He looks good in gray sweatpants and sweaty?”
“Hana, stop,” you laughed, though the mental image of Junmyeon in anything casual—or nothing at all—was currently playing on a loop in your brain.
“Bet his apartment is just as cold and clinical as his office,” Minji mused, her mind clearly heading into dirtier territory. “All glass and chrome. Very American Psycho. I bet he’s the type who watches himself in the mirror while he—”
“Minji!” you gasped, actually laughing. “You’re officially banned from talking for the rest of the night.”
“No, tell us!” Sora insisted, grabbing your arm. “Have you ever been in his place? Or has he been in yours? Oh my god… imagine the tension in that elevator. Just the two of you, floor after floor, staring at the numbers, knowing you hate each other but also knowing he’s... well, he’s him."
You thought about that very elevator—the way the doors had hissed shut, the way he’d slammed his hands against the wall, the way you’d yanked his tie until he stumbled.
Shit.
“No… definitely not,” you managed to say, your face burning.
“She’s blushing!” Hana screamed, attracting looks from the neighboring tables. “She’s totally thinking about him! C’mon! If you don’t tell us right now, I’m gonna call him myself and ask.”
“You wouldn’t dare…” Though a part of you knew Hana was drunk enough to try.
“Then give us something!” Sora pleaded. “Just one detail.”
You took a long, slow sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to soothe the heat in your cheeks. You thought about the bite mark on his neck, the way he’d growled your name into the mattress, and the look of pure, unhinged frustration on his face when he cu—
You shook your head, forcing a look of mild boredom. “I saw him running once.” You offered a small, shrug-like gesture as if the memory was barely worth the effort to recall. “Late at night. He had headphones on and looked just as miserable as he does when I’m beating his sales numbers. We didn’t even speak. That’s the extent of our ‘neighborly’ relationship.”
“Just once?” Sora asked, her voice dripping with disappointment. “No late-night elevator runs for snacks? No bumping into him while you’re both taking out the trash in your pajamas?”
“I’m pretty sure he purposely takes the service stairs just to avoid the risk of seeing my face and ruining his night,” you lied, the words tasting like gin.
“That sounds like him,” Hana muttered, swirling the ice in her glass. “The man is so dedicated to being your enemy that he’d probably move out if he thought you were getting too comfortable.”
“Exactly!” you said, taking a long, casual sip of your drink. “He’s just a guy who lives in the same building and makes my life a living hell from nine to five.”
You leaned back, letting their chatter wash over you as they finally shifted the topic to Minji’s dating app disasters. Inside, your heart was still thudding a mile a minute.
Admitting the truth—that you knew exactly what he looked like when he was out of breath, or that he’d been in your bed at 3:00 AM more times than you could count—would change everything. You weren’t ready to share the satisfaction of having Junmyeon exactly where you wanted him.
But as you laughed at Minji’s stories, your hand ghosted over your phone in your purse. You wondered if he was still sitting in that car, fuming, or if he was already back at the building, waiting for the sound of your heels in the hallway.
The walk from the taxi to the elevator ride felt lonely, boring with the lack of his presence. When the doors hissed open on your floor, instead of turning left toward your own door, you found yourself standing in front of his.
You were so close to knocking, close enough to imagine him on the other side—maybe sitting on that leather sofa with a glass of bourbon, still wearing that navy suit, and fuck.
With a sharp, internal snap, you pulled your hand back. Not tonight.
You turned on your heel and marched the few steps to your own door. When you tried to shove the key into the lock, your coordination betrayed you; the metal slipped, clattering clumsily to the floor.
“Shit.”
As you reached down to retrieve it, the floor seemed to tilt. You caught yourself against the wall, fingers splayed against the cold surface as the evening’s drinks finally caught up with you.
The elevator doors opened again. Junmyeon stepped out, winded from his run and radiating a heat that seemed to close the distance between you instantly. He was dressed in a black shirt and shorts, a light running jacket clinging to his frame in all the right places. His hair was damp, his chest heaved with every labored breath, and a single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple before disappearing into his collar. He didn’t even look up at you first; he was adjusting his glasses.
“Enjoying the view?”
His voice sent a treacherous shiver down your spine, snapping you out of a trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into. Junmyeon moved with an effortless grace that your own buzzed senses couldn’t match, unlocking his door in one fluid motion and leaving it ajar—a silent invitation.
The alcohol in your system felt like it had suddenly evaporated. You tightened your grip on your keys, the metal biting into your palm, before you crossed the threshold and shut the door behind you.
“I wasn’t looking at you.” But your eyes were fixed on the way his clothes matched his body proportions perfectly.
Junmyeon chuckled, tossing his watch and keys onto the table. He turned back to face you. “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, a dark, triumphant smirk finally spreading across his face. “Then why are you here?”
“I—just to clarify that. Yeah,” you stammered, the excuse sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “I should go.”
“Sure.” Junmyeon’s voice dropped to a low register. He didn’t move an inch back, but his scent was clouding your senses. “The door is right behind you.”
Your feet were stuck, and your gaze was locked on his lips, taking a step closer.
“That’s what I thought.”
As Junmyeon closed the final inch, your defenses evaporated. Your purse slid forgotten from your shoulder, and the keys you had been gripping so tightly clattered to the floor. You didn’t care. You reached for him, your composure snapping as you crashed your lips against his.
Junmyeon reacted instantly. He trapped you against the door, sliding down one of his hands, searingly hot, to find the hem of your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thigh with a proprietary force that made your knees buckle.
“Fuck—I hate you,” you gasped against his mouth.
“Not as much as I do,” Junmyeon murmured, tearing his mouth from yours to trail a path of heat down your jaw. His lips found the frantic pulse in your neck, devouring your skin, leaving hot marks. Your fingers tangled desperately into his hair, pulling him closer.
You shrugged out of your blazer, the fabric hitting the floor to join your keys and purse. Junmyeon slid his hand further up your skirt, then rubbed his fingers against your panties. The sudden, hot realization of your own wetness made every sensation feel amplified, a deep ache settling in your cunt that only he could soothe.
Junmyeon’s mouth remained anchored to your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while his free hand began to work the buttons of your blouse with a practiced, agonizing slowness. He exposed more skin, centimeter by centimeter, following the trail of the fabric with hungry, wet, searing kisses.
Your hips began to buck instinctively against his hand, a silent, desperate plea for him to touch you properly, to rub harder against your folds. You were losing the battle, your breath hitching in broken gasps. You could feel the wetness of his tongue against your bra, his hot breath cooling against the fabric, claiming you.
Junmyeon pulled away barely an inch, looking at you with hungry eyes, his hot fingers leaving you shivering and bereft. You watched, breathless and whimpering against the door, as he brought his hand up between your faces. His two fingers were slick. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his fingers into his mouth, watching you gasp again.
Junmyeon licked them clean with his tongue, swallowing as he tasted you. The sight of his lips wrapped around his own fingers while he stared you down felt like it was certainly an erotic vow.
“Fucking delicious.”
His voice sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. You couldn’t even find a retort. All you could do was stare at his mouth, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, waiting for him to finish what he’d started.
“Jun—”
The friction of the lace was gone, replaced by the searing heat of his bare skin against yours. Junmyeon slid two fingers downward, finding your aching folds and directly rubbing them again with a heavy, rhythmic pressure that made your breath catch in a sharp, broken gasp.
“What is it?” His voice was thick with a dark sort of pride, ghosting your lips. “So desperate, doll.”
Before you could snap back, he collided his lips against your mouth and drove his fingers inside your cunt. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your teeth sinking into his lower lip in a sharp, instinctive bite. Junmyeon’s mouth curved into a smirk against yours, savoring the sting, groaning. He knew he had you.
His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you with a ruthless precision that forced you to cling to his shoulders. You arched your back, your spine hitting the door as you bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the friction. He hummed in approval, a low vibration you felt deep in your chest, before his lips began a slow, torturous descent.
“Fuck! Don’t stop—ah.”
Junmyeon trailed wet, lingering kisses down your throat and over the swell of your chest, his breath hot through the thin fabric of your bra. When he finally caught your nipple between his teeth, biting down through the lace, the double hit of pleasure made your head toss back.
The wet, rhythmic sound of his fingers with vengeance, the friction even more intense. Junmyeon began scissoring his fingers deep inside you, catching your rhythm and then shattering it by going faster, harder, until your senses were completely blinded. You were a live wire in his hands, your gasps turning into frantic, wordless pleas as the coiling heat tightened once again, turning into a searing, unbearable pressure.
“Shit—yes.”
You were right there, your body trembling, your vision blurring as you prepared to shatter. And then, with the surgical precision of a man who knew exactly how to break you, Junmyeon stopped.
“Son of a bitch!” You let out a desperate, strangled sound—a mix of a sob and a moan—as your orgasm retreated just as it reached its peak.
Your legs were shaking so violently you had to lean your entire weight against the door just to stay upright, your inner muscles twitching and aching for more. You looked at him through a haze of frustration, your eyes stinging with the sheer need of it.
Junmyeon was looking at you, his chest rising and falling in a steady, maddeningly calm rhythm, lips curved, and that triumphant chuckle.
“C’mon, honey. You can resist a little tease.” His voice was smooth and terrifyingly steady. He was so close to your face, you could feel his warm breath. “Right?”
“You... bastard!” you managed to choke out, your voice a fractured wreck of its former self. You tried to reach for him, but your coordination was gone, your body heavy and oversensitive. “Just—finish it.”
“But that won’t be fun,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth.
Junmyeon just watched you—watched the way your breath hitched and the way your hands clawed at his shoulders—completely unfazed by the storm he had unleashed inside you. He was the one in total control, and he was savoring every second of your undoing.
“Please—Junmyeon, please.”
“Can make an exception.”
The agonizingly slow drag of his fingers returned, a deliberate, torturous rhythm that felt like he was mocking your desperation. Junmyeon was playing with you, teasing your sensitized flesh with a casual cruelty that left you utterly powerless. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought; your world had shrunk to the point where his hand met your body. You bucked your hips instinctively, trying to force a faster pace, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his forearm in a silent, white-knuckled plea for him to just keep going.
“So impatient,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against your jaw. He trailed his tongue along the sensitive line of your neck, his breath hitching.
Just as the frustration peaked, his fingers snapped back into a blurring, ruthless speed, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight up your spine, your head snapping back against the door. You whimpered, the sound broken and raw, but the fear of him stopping again was more intense than the pleasure itself.
“P-please,” you finally gasped out, the word shattering the last of your pride. Your eyes were shut tight, your body arching into his as the coiling tension in your core became an unbearable, white-hot knot. “Junmyeon, please... don’t stop. Not again. I can’t—I’ll do whatever you want, just—shit. Don’t stop.”
Junmyeon let out a low, triumphant growl, his teeth grazing your earlobe as his pace turned even more punishing. “Oh?”
He pushed you past the breaking point, his fingers relentless and cruel as he kept you balanced on that jagged, unbearable edge. He adjusted his rhythm just enough to keep the tension coiling tighter, turning the pleasure into a beautiful, agonizing form of torture.
“What is it?” His voice dropped. He stopped his fingers for a heartbeat, hovering just at the entrance of your cunt. “Wanna cum?”
The frustration finally broke you. Tears of pure, overstimulated desperation welled in your eyes, blurring the sight of his smug, hot face. You nodded frantically, your pride evaporated.
“Yes,” you choked out. “Yes, damn it. Yes!”
“Good girl.”
Junmyeon drove his fingers back inside with a brutal, blurring speed, his thumb finding that aching spot with a proprietary force. You whimpered into his shoulder as your orgasm finally crashed over you, a violent, bone-deep release that felt like an explosion.
Your inner walls clenched around his fingers in frantic, rhythmic waves, milking the friction as you bucked helplessly against him. Your legs gave out completely, leaving you hanging on his frame as your body was racked by tremor after tremor.
Junmyeon watched you with a look of dark, satisfied possession, savoring the way you were reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess in his arms.
Junmyeon carried you effortlessly, your arms locked around his neck, before he dropped you onto the middle of his bed. The moment your back hit the mattress, you reached for him, pulling him down into a raw kiss. Your hands roamed over him, desperate to find skin, and the friction was so intense he finally bucked under your touch.
He couldn’t resist you any longer as you finished the job with your blouse, tossing it aside. Junmyeon surged forward, his mouth hungry and desperate as he attacked your neck, his breath coming in jagged lunges. He made quick work of your bra, and when your skin was finally exposed to the cool air, he didn’t give you a second to breathe. He buried his face against your tits, his kisses desperate and wide-mouthed as he devoured you.
“Junmyeon... please,” you moaned, your voice a fractured wreck as you arched your body off the sheets. Your hips were already moving in a frantic, instinctive search for pressure. “I need you.”
Junmyeon pulled back for a single heartbeat, looking down at you, swollen lips and his eyes dark, hungry, letting you take his glasses off. Without a word, he yanked his shirt over his head, muscles tensing under the dim light, before he dropped between your legs.
“Yes—”
He stripped your panties and your skirt away with a ruthless efficiency, his mouth immediately finding the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Junmyeon trailed wet, searing kisses upward, marking every inch of you, his hands gripping your knees to keep you open for him.
“I know you need me, doll,” he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin. “C’mere.”
Junmyeon adjusted his position until he could settle himself firmly beneath you. He made you sit right on his face, the heat of his skin meeting the slick, aching center of your pussy. Your legs were already trembling violently, your senses so overstimulated that the mere proximity of him made your head spin.
You felt his hands slide up to your waist, anchoring you in place, before he delivered a giant, wet lick that traced you from bottom to top. The raw sensation of his tongue against your slit made you gasp into the empty room, your fingers dropping his glasses aside, clawing at the sheets as you buckled over him, completely at the mercy of his mouth.
You lost it immediately, your body jerking on top of him as your damp, swollen folds met the relentless heat of his mouth. He wasn’t being polite; he was loud and messy, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you and his moans filling the quiet of the bedroom and making your skin flush a deep, frantic red.
Junmyeon was devouring you with a desperation that told you he’d been starving as much as you did. Every slow, heavy stroke of his tongue against your slit sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to your brain. You were squirming, rocking your hips as you tried to find a rhythm, but he was too fast, too thorough.
“Ah—Junmyeon, fuck!” you choked out, your fingers finding his hair, practically pulling at the roots.
In a fit of pure, unadulterated lust, you tried to squeeze your inner thighs against his head, wanting to trap him there, to force him even deeper into your mess. Junmyeon let out a muffled, dark growl against your skin, his hands sliding up to your ass to grip you with a bruising force, holding you steady as he focused entirely on your clit.
Junmyeon began to suck at that tiny, overstimulated point of nerves, his tongue swirling around it with a rhythmic, drowning pressure. You were a complete wreck, your voice high and jagged as you cried out, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his mouth. He was making a total mess of you, the slick evidence of your desire coating his lips and chin, but he didn’t care. He just drank you in, his breathing ragged and loud between every hungry lap.
“Shit, shit, shit. Yes!”
You were completely undone, the friction of his tongue driving you into a fever state where the only thing that existed was the wet, rhythmic sound of him eating you out. You turned your head a second, your vision swimming, and saw that he had kicked his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself.
His hand was clamped around his cock, his fist moving in a fast, punishing blur as he jerked himself off. You could see the veins standing out on his forearm, the sheer force of his grip as he squeezed himself hard, his knuckles white.
“Fucking hell—you’re so addictive,” he groaned, making your core throb with a renewed, agonizing intensity.
You couldn’t help yourself, your voice a broken, breathless wreck as his mouth continued to claim you.
“Don’t... don’t you dare stop,” you hissed, your hands grabbing the headboard as you bucked your hips against his face. “Fucking eat me. Ah—just like that.”
You turned your head again. The sight of him working himself to the rhythm of his own tongue lapping at your slit was too much. You tried to squeeze your thighs against his face again, wanting to feel the vibration of his growls deep in your bones.
Junmyeon let out a jagged, guttural sound, his fist moving even faster as he buried his face deeper into your pussy—his tongue swirling around your clit with ruthless pressure.
“Fuck!”
The second climax hit you far more violently than before. Your swollen folds were almost too sensitive to bear, but the relentless pressure of his mouth wouldn’t let you escape. You felt your inner walls contract in frantic, agonizing spasms, the orgasm finally snapping through you. A raw, jagged cry teared from your throat as you shattered completely, your entire body vibrating against him, digging your nails into the headboard.
At that exact same moment, Junmyeon’s own control finally disintegrated. His fist worked in one last, punishing blur against his cock, and he let out a loud, choked-off shout—a sound of pure, unbridled release.
His body jolted violently against your thighs, his muscles locking tight. The sheer force of the climax left him physically drained, his grip on your waist finally loosening as he slumped forward.
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale against your skin, holding you as the aftershocks continued to roll through you. He lingered, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes to clean you. The sensation was almost too much for your overstimulated nerves.
“Fuck,” you gasped, though your hands were still buried in his hair, pulling him closer.
When Junmyeon finally shifted, he pulled you up, his muscles slick and straining as he guided you to sit firmly on his lap. You were face-to-face now, your skin flushed and damp, meeting the beautiful, honest mess that was left of his control. He leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving in heavy, jagged lunges. The tension that usually tightened his shoulders was gone, replaced by a raw, satisfied relief.
“You look far too proud of yourself,” you whispered, your voice a breathless wreck as you pushed a stray, damp lock of hair from his forehead.
“I think I’ve earned it,” he rasped, his eyes hooded and dark with a proprietary heat, smirking. “I didn’t know my name could sound that filthy in your mouth.”
“You arrogant bastard,” you breathed, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips.
“And yet, here you are,” he countered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin.
“Just because your tongue does better things than fight me back.” Testing the waters, you reached down, your finger tracing the hypersensitive tip of his length.
The contact made him hiss a jagged curse, his entire body jerking involuntarily. “Fuck—you vixen!” He winced, the pleasure-pain of the post-orgasm sensitivity hitting him hard, but he did tilt his hips into your touch.
“What? I’m just admiring the mess you made,” you teased, your finger circling his tip again, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the sheets. “You were louder tonight, Junmyeon. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Don’t start,” he warned, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I wasn’t the one begging tonight.”
“You’re the one who pushed me there,” you countered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear. “You wanted me desperate. Needy.”
Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale, his head falling back against the wood. “Y-yeah. I wanted to ruin you.” He looked at your hand again, watching with a dark, mesmerized intensity as you continued to stroke him. Even though he was spent, even though he was raw, he let you touch, his breath hitching every time your skin grazed his.
“You’re addicted to this,” you whispered, looking up at him, curving your lips. “To me.”
“Completely,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a vulnerable, honest low.
You shifted your weight and wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his length. Junmyeon let out a sharp, fractured breath that sounded almost like a sob.
“Oh, Kim,” you whispered, leaning in until your lips grazed his ear, curving your lips. “Reduced to a shaking mess because I’m barely touching you?”
You started to jerk him off, your rhythm slow, designed to draw out every ounce of his sensitivity. Junmyeon hissed a string of jagged curses, his head snapping back against the headboard, his eyes squeezed shut as his body jolted.
“You like this, don’t you?” you purred. You leaned forward and sank your teeth into his lower lip, biting just hard enough to make him groan.
“Fuck…” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip your waist with a white-knuckled intensity. He tried to pull you closer, his hips bucking upward in a desperate search for more, but you held him back, keeping the pace agonizingly steady.
“Uh-uh.” Your hand tightened slightly as you moved up to his tip, watching his throat move as he swallowed hard. “You enjoyed watching me struggle, hmm? You liked making me wait and beg.”
You leaned back just enough to look at him—his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes desperate. Junmyeon looked completely undone.
“Now it’s your turn,” you purred, your thumb circling the sensitive tip of him until his breath hitched and stayed there. “I think I’m going to keep you right here for a while. I want to hear you beg.”
“You—you cruel woman,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering open, dark and hazed with a mix of pain and pure, unadulterated lust.
“Uh-uh. I’m just playing your game,” you countered. “Don’t complain when I use it all on you.”
You pulled your hand away with a sharp, clinical suddenness, mirroring the exact cruelty he’d shown you. Junmyeon’s hips bucked reflexively, chasing the heat that had just vanished, and he let out a strangled, desperate sound that was half-growl, half-sob.
“Don’t—” he rasped, his eyes snapping open, wide and hazed with a frantic kind of need. He reached for you, his fingers brushing your waist, but you pulled just out of reach, moving back on the bed.
“What?” Your voice was airy and teasing as you watched him tremble. “I thought maybe you liked the wait.”
“Shit—please,” he groaned, looking utterly wrecked, his chest heaving, his pride lying in tatters on the floor. “Don’t do this. Please… fuck, I’m begging you.”
“Are you?” You knelt between his legs, your shadow falling over his flushed skin. You reached out, your finger grazing the slick, pearly cum at his tip, and then you brought them to your lips, tasting him right in front of his eyes.
Junmyeon let out a hissed, jagged breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets.
“Who’s in charge, Junmyeon?” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.
“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Y-you are. Just... please, do it.”
Satisfied with the brokenness in his tone, you leaned down. You started by swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, catching every drop of his sensitivity. Junmyeon groaned, his hands flying to your hair, guiding you, his fingers trembling against your scalp.
Then, you took him into your mouth, swallowing him whole.
The low, guttural sound he made was pure animal instinct. His hips began to move lazily, a rhythmic, desperate thrust against your mouth as he fought to stay conscious. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat sent a violent jolt of heat straight to your own cunt; you were so wet you could feel your inner walls clenching around nothing, aching for a fullness that only he could provide.
“Fuck... yes! Right there.” His voice was a fractured wreck as his grip on your hair tightened, anchoring you to him. “Don’t… don’t you fucking stop. I’m gonna—shit.”
Junmyeon was completely at your mercy, his breathing turning into sharp, frantic hitches as your tongue worked over him, driving him toward a peak that he couldn’t escape. He was loud, messy, and entirely yours, his swearing turning into wordless pleas as he teetered on the very edge of his sanity, his chest heaving, his hip colliding uncoordinated with your face.
You reached down with your free hand, your fingers curling around him to squeeze his balls with a firm, proprietary grip, while your other hand jerked him with a fast, ruthless rhythm.
“Ah—yes, baby,” he choked out, his hands tangling desperately in your hair. “You’re fucking killing me. Shit—”
“Shh,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to give him a messy kiss. “You’re doing so good for me, Junmyeon. Such a good, obedient boy.”
“Don’t—” he groaned, a jagged, broken sound. “Please.” He shut his eyes, his hands trembling.
“What?” You smirked, grazing your lips on his, jerking him off. “You like it when I call you good boy?”
He barely nodded, probably ashamed that the lust was deeper. “Fuck, please... just finish me. Please?”
“I didn’t hear you.” Your fist squeezed harder. “You like it?”
“Yes! Fuck—I do!”
Satisfied, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him deep, swallowing his whole cock. Junmyeon groaned so loud that it made your own core pulse with a frantic, wet ache. You were a winner, and you both knew it—you could feel it in the way his muscles were locked tight, the way his swearing turned into a high, frantic whine.
“Yes, ah—yes!”
Junmyeon finally broke. With a loud, guttural groan, his body jolted violently. He came with a force that was staggering, hot sperm hitting the back of your throat as he pumped into your mouth. You coughed, trying to take every bit of him, even as it became too much to swallow, the excess dripping down your chin and onto your chest.
Junmyeon was completely overwhelmed, his body racking with aftershocks so intense his legs were still twitching against the sheets. He slumped back, his hands finally falling limp from your hair, his breathing coming in shallow, sobbing gasps.
You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a triumphant, predatory smile on your face. You were covered in him—your lips, your chin, your skin—and the sight of him so utterly destroyed and overstimulated made you feel more powerful than any boardroom victory ever could.
You leaned down and mashed your mouth against his, a slow, sloppy kiss that was pure mockery. You deliberately smeared the slick evidence of his orgasm across his lips, tasting yourself and him all at once. Neither of you gave a shit about being clean; you were both too far gone, completely feral and obsessed.
“Tastes good, hmm?” you whispered against his mouth, your lips wet and glistening. “But you look like a fucking mess, Kim.”
Junmyeon let out a dark, ragged chuckle that sounded more like a growl, his eyes snapping open with a dangerous, predatory spark. “You think you fucking broke me? You think you’re in control because you can make me beg?”
Before the words could even fully leave his mouth, he gripped your waist and flipped you onto your back with a sudden, bruising force. The weight of his sticky, warm body pinned you flat against the mattress. You immediately felt the scorching heat of him—thick, heavy, and hard again, pressed right against your slick cunt.
“I’m gonna make you eat every single one of those words,” he rasped, his voice dropping to a filthy, gravelly whisper.
Junmyeon didn’t ease into you. He slammed his hips forward, burying his entire length inside you in one deep, ruthless thrust that bottomed out completely. You let out a sharp, high-pitched whimper, your toes curling as your overstimulated walls, raw from the previous orgasms, clenched around him like a vice. It was so intense that you reacted purely on instinct, arching your spine and biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Fuck—” Junmyeon groaned, tasting the copper on his tongue and immediately driving into you harder, his pace turning fast and punishing. “Fucking bite me again, you little psycho. Shit—you’re so goddamn tight.”
“Shut up and just fuck me, Junmyeon!” Your hands flew to his back, your nails digging into his skin and dragging down until you left long, angry red tracks. “Don’t you dare slow down—I wanna feel every fucking inch of you.”
“You like it rough, huh? You like it when I don’t give you a choice,” he half-growled, half-chuckled, his breathing coming in heavy, jagged lunges as the headboard began to slam violently against the wall.
He reached down, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it high over his shoulder to open you up even more, angling his hips to hit that exact, agonizing spot inside you over and over again. He had you whimpering, incapable of saying a word but raw moans from your lips.
“Yes, doll. Look at how open you are for me. Shit—who owns this pathetic, aching pussy right now.”
With a low growl, Junmyeon slid his hand up from your waist, his palm wrapping around the front of your neck. He pressed down firmly, pinning you to the pillows. The sudden, heavy pressure on your throat sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight to your core. Your internal muscles reacted instantly, contracting violently and clenching around his thick cock.
“Fucking tight,” Junmyeon choked out, his jaw tight as your raw, hyper-sensitive walls squeezed him with an agonizingly perfect grip. “Say it. Who owns you.”
“You—you do,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, tears of pure, unadulterated pleasure blurring your vision as he absolutely devoured you from the inside out. “You do, fuck... Junmyeon—you feel so good. I’m gonna—”
“No, baby. You don’t cum until I tell you to,” Junmyeon swore, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his face flushed and his jaw locked in pure, obsessive lust. He slowed his pace for two agonizing strokes, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, making the friction so thick and wet it was deafening. “Swear to me, love. Swear you’re never gonna let anyone else touch you like this.”
“N-never,” you sobbed out, your hips instinctively bucking up to meet his heavy, brutal thrusts, completely addicted to the pain and the pleasure of him stretching you open. “Fucking ruin me, Junmyeon, please…”
You didn’t push his hand away. Instead, your fingers scrambled up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin—not to pull him off, but to anchor him there, silently demanding that he keep the pressure exactly where it was and push even deeper inside you.
“More,” you gasped out of breath, the word getting caught in your throat as tears of intense, overstimulated pleasure welled in your eyes and spilled down your temples. “I’m yours—I’m fucking yours!”
“That’s it. All mine,” he rasped, his own control disintegrating as his movements turned into a blurring, frantic frenzy of pure friction and sweat.
Neither of you could handle the raw, hyper-sensitive heat for more than a few minutes; it was a race to the absolute edge of your sanity, both of you completely lost in a blind, chaotic rhythm that was burning you both to the ground.
His heavy, sweat-slicked body was betraying him; every time he slammed deep inside you, a violent tremor would wrack his spine, his muscles locking up before he dragged himself back to plunge into you again. His lips were parted, his jaw strained so tight it looked like it would crack, and he was being incredibly loud, letting out deep, animalistic grunts and breathless curses with every heavy, wet thrust that echoed through the room.
“Jun—ah, please,” you choked out breathless, the sound barely escaping your throat as tears streamed down into your hair. Your hips bucked up on instinct, chasing the brutal friction, completely addicted to the agonizingly perfect pressure of his hand and his body. “I’m—I’m close—fuck, I can’t—”
“I know,” he growled, his gaze dark and hazed with an overwhelming, dangerous level of lust as he stared down at your wrecked face. Junmyeon finally freed your leg, but not your neck. He leaned down, his chest crushing your breasts, his mouth finding your ear as his hips accelerated into a blinding, frantic frenzy. “Just one… one more second. Shit—together. I wanna feel you crushing me.”
You nodded weakly. The raw sensation between your slick, swollen folds was deafening, a sloppy, desperate mess of skin against skin that threatened to burn you both down. Your fingers were clawing uselessly at his forearms as the pleasure became too intense to bear.
The press of his hand on your neck vanished the exact moment he lost it. A sharp, ragged gasp of air rushed back into your lungs just as your shared climax hit with a devastating, paralyzing force. Junmyeon’s control completely disintegrated; his hands slammed into the mattress on either side of your head, curling into white-knuckled fists as his entire body locked tight.
“Fuck…” he growled breathless.
You scrambled to hold him closer, wrapping your arms and trembling legs around his sweat-slicked frame, desperate to bridge any remaining distance, wanting to feel every single inch of your skin fused together. Inside you, his cock was throbbing violently, filling you up so completely that it felt like an electric current was surging through your veins. Your entire body was trembling, caught in a wave of violent, uncontrollable spasms.
Junmyeon couldn’t help himself—he gave a few final, sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts, rubbing your clit with his own thumbs, sending you entirely over the edge. Overstimulated to the point of delirium, you squirted against him, a high, fractured cry tearing from your throat and burying itself in the crook of his neck. You bit down on his shoulder, your nails anchoring deep into his back, riding the wave until he finally stopped moving altogether.
“Jesus Christ—Junmyeon!”
With a final, low groan, Junmyeon collapsed, his exquisite, heavy weight crushing you into the mattress. Neither of you moved an inch. You just lay there, a tangled tangle of limbs, sweaty, wet, and completely spent. Your internal walls and his muscles were still twitching with aftershocks as you both gasped for air.
Junmyeon let out a tired, breathless chuckle against your collarbone, the tension completely melted from his frame. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice a deep, gravelly ruin as he tightened one heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. “We... we need a shower.”
A breathless, exhausted laugh bubbled up from your chest, your lips brushing against his damp shoulder. “But you’re carrying me.”
“Deal.”
After the warm water of the shower had finally washed away the sticky, frantic evidence of the night, Junmyeon carried you back to the fresh side of the bed. The cool, clean sheets felt like heaven against your scrubbed skin, but you didn’t stay apart for long. Almost immediately, he pulled you against his chest, molding his body to your back and draping a heavy, possessive arm over your waist. He buried his face deep into the damp curve of your neck, his nose hidden in the strands of your hair as his breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic hum.
“Junmyeon?” you murmured. “That was my shampoo?”
He let out a lazy and completely unbothered song, shifting just a fraction, tightening his grip on your waist as if trying to physically anchor you into silence. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
You could hear the sheer exhaustion filling his lungs, his voice gravelly and weighed down by the sleep he was desperately chasing, but your curiosity got the better of you. “Don’t play dumb. You bought it, but you clearly haven’t used it. Why is it in there?”
“I like the smell,” he mumbled defensively into your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone.
A tiny, knowing smile tugged at your lips. Junmyeon had bought your exact shampoo just to have it ready for the moments you stayed over, a quiet gesture that felt incredibly loud.
Intrigued, you carefully rolled over within the tight circle of his arms to face him. The movement made him let out a soft, disgruntled groan, but he didn’t let you go. You blinked through the dark, finding his sleepy face just inches from yours. His eyes were tightly shut, his hair soft over his forehead, and his swollen lower lip was pulled into a faint, exhausted pout.
You reached up as you gently cupped his face. Your thumb brushed just below his eye, tracing the soft, relaxed skin. “Buying my shampoo just so when I’m here. Who knew my biggest rival was actually such a softie?”
Junmyeon let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated right against your fingertips. “I’m not soft,” he mumbled, his voice thick and entirely ruined by sleep. “I’m practical. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“It was also a practical move that you faked ending your run just when I came home?”
His eyes stayed shut, his arm tightening around your waist. “What the hell are you talking about? Please… go to sleep.”
“Liar,” you persisted, a sleepy, goofy smile spreading across your face as you remembered the struggle at your apartment door. "You were running with glasses, Junmyeon. You don’t do that. You just came because you saw me coming, fumbling with my keys, and then, you had the nerve to mock me.
“You were fumbling,” he murmured, a soft, amused laugh escaping his lips as he buried his face further into your hair, incapable of denying your accusation.
“I was perfectly sober,” you corrected, letting out a soft, absurd chuckle. “Those three cocktails didn’t even exist in my body. My system completely neutralized them.”
“Sure, sure.” He curved his lips, his voice thick with sleep. “We’ll see how that ‘neutralized’ system feels when the morning comes, and you’re begging me for aspirin.”
“Ugh, I hate you know me so well. But… you will give it to me just because I’m your favorite rival. Admit it.”
“Not quite sure,” he whispered back, finally wrapping his other arm around you to pull you completely into his space. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Maybe just for tonight.”
“Still wrong,” you mumbled. “I’m your only rival. Everyone else just lets you win. You’d be bored to death without me.”
Junmyeon let out one last, quiet chuckle; the sound felt warm and private. He shifted slightly, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
“Maybe you’re right.” His voice dropped to a low, sleepy confession. Before you could say another word, he guided your head down, nudging you until your face was completely hidden in the warm crook of his neck. “Sleep,” he whispered against your hair, his hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you tucked safely against him. “No more talking for tonight.”
You didn’t protest this time. Letting out a soft sigh, you wrapped one arm securely around his torso, anchoring him close. Your leg slid instinctively between his, lacing your limbs together under the heavy duvet until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.
As the heavy, comfortable silence of the room settled over you both once again, a quiet smile spread across your face, your eyes fluttering shut as you melted into his hold. And, against your hair, completely hidden in the dark (and the soft scent of your shampoo), Junmyeon was smiling too—neither of you truly knowing just how deeply the other was already losing the risky game.
part II: enemies with more benefits
✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼
Hii I loved your mingyu fic sm, couldn’t believe it was your first time writing 😭 could you do exo love language headcanons? 🫶
oh yes i can dear nonnie.... u have no idea how thrilled i am to get an exo req i miss them so bad ✊ ++ thank u for the love!!
warnings // literally just fluff. reader is referred to as a girl in baeks. npr
exos love languages !
minseok - acts of service
its basically built in as part of his personality - that dependability, the feeling that whenever you break, he'll be there to put you back together. he's quiet about the things he does for you, playing them off if you ever ask about it - "its nothing, really". but small things add up, and you really do appreciate how there's always a mug of coffee just the way you like it waiting for you on your nightstand when you wake up, or how whenever you have a long day all your chores are magically completed by the time you get home. he likes knowing that he can help you out, that his stability is a pillar for you as well.
junmyeon - gift giving
he blurs the line between boyfriend and sugar daddy at this point. at least once a week you'll come home to a box on the kitchen table with the name of some luxary brand on the face of it - jewelery, clothing, shoes, bags, or anything else you could want, he'd get it for you. early on in your relationship, you were almost hesitant to accept all of this, but he quickly set those worries aside with how dead set he was on what he would call providing for you. making you happy, and carrying along little reminders of him wherever you go.
yixing - physical touch
a sweetheart. and more than that, a dedicated one. he's always got his hands on you in one way or another - he rests his hand on the small of your back, or clasps it together with your own, or drags his thumb across your cheek when you're on the verge of falling asleep. he's recently taken a liking to playing with your hair, braiding and unbraiding it slowly as your attention is on the tv, or a conversation with a friend. his touch is grounding, reflective of him as a person, a silent reminder of his love and devotion.
baekhyun - words of affirmation
kyoong teases you endlessly, but praises you twice as much. he's such a direct person that if he wants you to know something, he'd tell you instantly - which is why you are constantly met with "i love you" and "you look gorgeous" and compliments and toothy grins. and if you were to ever detest something he had said, maybe your insecurities were bad that day or you were just not feeling your best, he'd be soooo quick to turn around your attitude. after all, you were his girl, his angel, his one and only ... he can't have you not seeing yourself the way he does.
chanyeol - quality time
he's a fan of literally any activity as long as you're there doing it with him. invite him anywhere and he's putting his shoes on before you can even say where you're going. he just loves having you around, no matter where you are. even if you're too tired to go out, he's a big fan of doing things seperately but together. oftentimes he'll find himself on the couch, laptop in front of him displaying a new track he's been working on, while you have your head in his lap and a book in your hands, reading away quietly. really, as long as you're somewhere near him, he's happy.
kyungsoo - acts of service
he handles your responsibilities before you even get the chance to think about them. he's always cooking for you ... obviously, because how could you ever turn that down? following the recipes to your favorites for dinner and experimenting away the next morning for breakfast, making notes of what you do or don't like. is surprisingly good at handywork around the house. you'll catch him fixing that squeaky chair when he has the time, or looking at that door that never fully closes. it's second nature to him, making sure you're all taken care of.
jongin - physical touch
he's such a teddy bear 😭😭 always burying his nose in the crook of your neck or giving you a back hug while you work, resting his chin on the top of your head. so much pda because he literally can't help himself. will put his arm around your shoulder or your waist, will kiss your cheek or your forehead when you're in the middle of talking, will hold your thigh while he's driving... he just can't keep away from you !! and best believe at the end of the day when the two of you are ready to go to sleep, he's clinging to you for dear life, an arm draped across your stomach and a leg hooked onto your own. he just loves feeling close to you.
sehun - quality time
if i had to describe sehun in one word, it would be genuine. and when sehun genuinely loves someone, i think the way he'd show it would be through him always wanting to be beside them. he carves time out of his busy schedule to be with you. random day trips, late nights at home, dinner dates, anything. he also has a deep appreciation for when you do the same for him, cracking a smile when you ask him if he wants to go out, and replying with a smug "miss me already?"
sorry for no jongdae 😭😭 i felt a little iffy adding him in when he has like. a whole ass family idk !! but i guess if any of you do want to see him then i can do his seperately :P just lmk!
↳ synopsis: you and your husband are looking for a third participant in the bedroom. enter baekhyun — the adorably awkward, innocent, younger man you meet one night at a bar.
↳ wc: 8.3k of almost pure smut
↳ contents: Junmyeon x f!reader x Baekhyun | smut (MDNI) | husband!Junmyeon, younger!Baekhyun; jm and reader have an open relationship | kinda mean dom!junmyeon, switch/subby!reader, subish!baekhyun, masturbation (m solo), fingering, oral (everyone receiving yay!), facetime sex, dirrrttty talkin, degradation, praise, raw p in v threesome sex (eiffel tower sil vout plait), a bit of edging, dacryphilia, face fucking, cum eating (like… a lot of it lowkey), *jm and bh do interact sexually
↳ a/n: jesus christ. if you've been here for a minute you know that i first mentioned this fic in the beginning of november and was supposed to post it by the end of that month. well... i got stuck several times and it also spiraled out of control (believe it or not this was supposed to be like 3k words and now it's this... what is wrong with me!!!) i also want to preface by saying i don't have any personal experience with open relationships so this is probably an inaccurate portrayal. pretty freaky for my standards i'm like almost embarrassed omg... hope you enjoy, minors go away this is pure filth
Baekhyun doesn’t know what he’s doing here.
He’s slightly underdressed, even in his black slacks and light brown sweater. All around him are glamorous women in cocktail dresses, hair pinned up high with perfectly curled pieces framing perfectly made up faces. Every man dons a blazer, expensive watches adorning their wrists. There’s a mirror perfectly situated behind the bar that Baekhyun can see his own reflection in, and he grimaces at just how young he looks. Out of place, with his wire-frame glasses and disheveled hair, a far cry from the general aura of sophistication that surrounds him on all sides.
He tries to shake the feelings of inadequacy out of his head and does what he came here to do: drink. He almost recoils on instinct when the alcohol touches his tongue. It’s sharp and bitter, and burns on the way down. I thought expensive alcohol wasn’t supposed to go down easily.
He’s just about to call it a failure of a night out and retreat back home, back to his shithole apartment where he wouldn’t be the youngest person in the room by about five years, when someone clears their throat behind him.
“Is this seat taken?”
He turns, and his jaw nearly drops. And that’s when he meets you. You, with your perfect hair and perfect face, the dark emerald fabric of your dress draping elegantly over your body like it was tailor-made for you. Even your nails are perfect: perfectly filed ovals with a shiny, clear coat.
“No. You can sit.”
You sit on the stool next to him, waving slightly to get the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have a vodka soda, please. And…” you turn to him expectantly, eyebrow raising.
Baekhyun’s eyes widen, an embarrassing heat passing over his face. “Oh, I’m okay. Thank you.” Inside, he wants to die. Should he have offered to buy you a drink? Wouldn’t that come off as presumptuous, though? Who is he kidding, there’s no way in hell that a woman like you would —
You’ve just said your name, and now you’re looking at him with that expectant eye again.
“I’m Baekhyun,” he manages to sputter out. Good going, Baek, at least you can do one thing right.
“Baekhyun,” you say, smiling. His name sounds like magic coming off of your lips. “You’re very cute.”
Baekhyun clears his throat, staring so hard at the glass in his hand that he thinks it might just explode. “Thank you. You’re beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen you here before,” you say, taking your drink off the bar counter when it arrives. “Is this your first time?”
He nods. “My labmate recommended this place to me. He forgot to mention that it’s way fancier than the usual places we go too.” He laughs, a little self-consciously.
“Labmate? Are you a scientist or a student?” you ask.
“Student. Third-year PhD.”
“So you’re basically a scientist.” Baekhyun gulps when you take a sip of your drink, leaving a dark red lipstick stain on the rim of your glass. “Do you like it?”
“Most of the time. Not right now.” Suddenly, the events of the last few days come flooding back, and his shoulders start to tense automatically. “It’s always rough this time of year. There’s a lot of deadlines and such, plus this is my first semester teaching so it’s been hard adjusting to all the grading and having to be on in front of a room of eighteen year olds all the time. And…”
“And?” you prompt.
Baekhyun sighs. “I just got dumped last week. We weren’t together very long but you know, it still stings. So yeah. It’s been a lot.”
You frown, reaching out to put your hand on top of his. Your hand is cold, and he nearly jerks away at the touch. “I’m so sorry. It’s their loss.”
“But it’s okay. I feel like I’m ready to move on.”
You stare at him for a second, and the weight of what he’s just admitted settles onto him like an anvil. Baekhyun wonders if walking out of this bar and into oncoming traffic would be a faster and more painless death than whatever humiliation ritual this is. But then you giggle, covering your mouth with the back of your hand.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you but… I’m just laughing because, why did you feel like you needed to tell me that?”
Now Baekhyun feels the tips of his ears turning bright red, and he pointedly avoids looking into the mirror because he knows that he would just collapse into a puddle if he saw his own flustered expression right now. “Well, because, I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t attracted to you.”
You lean in, close enough for Baekhyun to smell your perfume coming off of your neck. Something sweet and dainty, but with a darker musk underneath it. He has a feeling that he’ll be trying to remember this scent all night. “Are you attracted to me, Baekhyunnie?”
Baekhyun swallows, the nickname sending all sorts of confusing feelings swirling around in his gut. “Yes,” he breathes.
“I’m glad,” you say. “I’m really attracted to you too. Are you done with your drink? Wanna get out of here?”
The night air is chilly, and Baekhyun wishes that he had a jacket to offer you, but any sort of self-conscious thought vanishes from his head when you press him against the exterior brick wall of the bar. Your hands are light, delicate on his chest, sliding up slowly to wrap around the back of his neck. You look at him through your lashes, the streetlight casting your features in a soft glow.
“Kiss me,” you say softly, your heady gaze drifting down to his lips.
And how could he deny your request?
His hands rest on your lower back, holding you close to him as he meets your lips, kissing you gently. The alcohol on your mouth tastes sweeter on you, an addicting taste that he can’t get enough of. You slip your tongue inside his mouth, and he has to stop his knees from buckling beneath him, suddenly dizzy with want. He’s surrounded on all sides by your touch, your scent, your taste, and it makes him nearly melt.
He nearly has to pull away to compose himself when you moan softly against his lips, a noise so faint and so sweet that he thinks he might have imagined it. But then you press yourself against him before making that sound again, and Baekhyun thinks he might just die from how fast his blood is pumping straight to his cock.
You pull away, lipstick smeared at the corner of your mouth, grinning at him, breathlessly. “I like you,” you exhale.
He’s about to respond with something probably incredibly stupid and way too soon when a sleek black car pulls up behind you and stops. “Ah, he’s early,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear. A man steps out of the driver’s side and steps onto the sidewalk to greet you. He’s incredibly handsome, one of those faces you only see on billboards and magazines. He’s dressed casually, but he still looks so expensive in an effortless way.
“Baekhyun, this is Junmyeon,” you say, and Baekhyun’s stomach drops in horror when he wraps an arm around your waist familiarly. Too familiarly. “My husband.”
The times throughout the night that Baekhyun wishes that the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole don’t compare in the slightest to the feeling he has right now.
“H-Husband?!” he squeaks. “But we… I…” He looks from you, to Junmyeon, then back to you.
“It’s okay, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says. God, even his voice is handsome. “We’re in an open marriage.”
His face must still be frozen in an expression of utter shock, because you cut in, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring this on you. I was going to tell you before he got here, but someone wasn’t supposed to arrive for another fifteen minutes.”
“Dinner ended earlier than expected, I’m sorry, darling.” Junmyeon kisses your temple, and a hot feeling of… something floods Baekhyun’s stomach. Is it jealousy? Discomfort?
Arousal?
“So, what, do you want me to be your third or something?” Baekhyun asks. His tongue feels a bit like lead, sitting heavy in his mouth.
“If you want,” you say. “But it can be just us, if you’d prefer.” Your cheeks are dusted with pink, and Baekhyun realizes suddenly that you’re flustered too. “Our arrangement is flexible. I wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with, so if you’d rather Junmyeon not be there, it’s totally okay.”
“Honest, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon chimes in. “We’ve had a lot of time to sort out our feelings about doing this. And if you’d rather just forget this ever happened, that’s fine too.”
Baekhyun feels like his head might explode. “Can I think about it? I’ve never… I’ve never done anything even remotely like this before.” Part of him thinks that this is just too bizarre for him. He can count the amount of partners he’s had on one hand, and he nearly combusted just fucking kissing you. How would he be able to handle being with you… with both of you?
But part of him looks at the pair in front of him and flashes of the possibility flit through his mind. It’s enough to ignite a low heat deep within him.
“Sure.” You hand him your phone and he types his number in with shaky hands. “And Baekhyun,” you whisper. “It really is okay if I don’t hear from you again, but…” You learn forward, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I hope I do.”
He refuses a ride home from Junmyeon, claiming (and lying) that his apartment is just around the corner. When he finally steps through his front door, he looks at his reflection in the hallway mirror. Your lipstick is smeared all over his lips, and a perfect outline of your kiss is stamped on his right cheek.
It doesn’t take long for him to shuck off his slacks and boxers, nearly tripping on them on the way to his bed, cock already throbbing and angry. As he jerks himself off, grip so hard that it nearly hurts, he pulls the neckline of his sweater over his nose, the faint notes of your perfume still lingering there. He gets off to the thought of you, to the memory of your body pressed against his, the taste of your lips. But also things that might be in your future: him settling between your thighs, making you cum on his tongue. Hearing your sweet voice cry out as you shake. But what finally tips him over the edge is a flitting, fleeting image of you, mouth stuffed full of cock— not his, someone else’s— while he fucks you, muffled moans spilling out as you cum around him.
His hips rock into his fist as his cum spills over his knuckles, and it isn’t until after he’s cleaned himself up that the guilt from jerking off to a married woman settles in.
Junmyeon, for the few brief moments that Baekhyun had met him, doesn’t seem like he’s harboring any ill will towards him. If anything, if Baekhyun allows himself the delusion for one second, he might have looked at him with… curiosity. Interest, even. The thought of it sends a confusing, hot feeling through Baekhyun’s stomach, his spent cock twitching with mild interest.
His phone chimes in his hand and breaks through his thoughts. He opens the notification to see a text from an unknown number.
no pressure, but junmyeon likes you too :)
goodnight baekhyunnie <3
“You like him,” is the first thing Junmyeon says to you when you climb into the car.
“Isn’t he a cutie?” you ask, turning in your seat to look back at Baekhyun. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, your lipstick smeared on his face, staring dumbfoundedly at the car.
Junmyeon agrees. It really had been an accident: he was meant to pick you up later, but Minseok had to deal with a late-night office emergency, leaving him with nothing to do. When he pulled up, he saw Baekhyun’s flushed cheeks, his glasses hanging low on his nose, permed dark hair unruly and mussed. But Junmyeon doesn’t want you to know just how eager he himself is with your new choice of a partner, so instead of any affirmation, he says, “A little young, no?”
You tsk your tongue at him. “Barely. He’s in his mid-twenties. You act like being thirty is a crime.” You fall silent for a while, before saying, “So you don’t think he’s cute?”
“When did I say that?” he replies, staring straight at the road ahead.
“I knew it!” you grin. “He’s exactly your type, right? When I saw him I thought that you’d really like him.”
“Hey now, don’t get too excited. Let Baekhyun decide how he wants this to continue and with whom.”
The final interaction between the three of you was hard to read, but Junmyeon fears it’s taken a turn for the worst when you don’t hear from Baekhyun for a week. He can see that it’s affecting you, even though you try to hide it. The way you jump each time your phone gets a notification, only to put it back down with a slight frown.
“I won’t be mad if you’re disappointed, sweetheart,” Junmyeon says, plopping down next to you on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. He chuckles when you open your mouth, obediently feeding you a few kernels.
“I don’t know why I’m being like this,” you groan, tucking your face into his shoulder. “We’ve had people ghost us all the time. It never mattered.”
“I think you have a little crush,” Junmyeon teases.
You whine petulantly, hiding your face from him. “Stop, Myeon.”
“It’s so adorable. Reminds me of when we first met. When you kept ‘running into me’ on campus only to get so shy when I finally asked you about it.” He has to kiss away your pouts before the movie starts.
Even though your crush on Baekhyun is extremely evident, as plain to see as the fact that the sky is blue, Junmyeon doesn’t feel an ounce of worry. Your relationship has been open for longer than it’s been exclusive, and any sort of bumps in the road have been sorted out years ago. At the core of your arrangement is a deep mutual love and respect for each other, and the expectation to communicate thoroughly. He has never been threatened by your feelings for a third partner, and you’ve never felt any ill will towards any of Junmyeon’s feelings for partners past.
Another week passes, and Junmyeon is starting to think that it’s time to give up hope when you come out of the bathroom, freshly showered, with a wide grin stretched over your face. “Junmyeon, look!” you squeal before running over to where he’s sitting in bed. You give him your phone and he scrolls through the text chain with Baekhyun.
Hi! I’ve been thinking a lot about everything and I think I’m ready
I do want to do this I think
But I’m pretty inexperienced haha so I’m nervous…
Hi Baekhyun!
I’m sososo happy to hear this
No need to be nervous I’ll be nice ;)
Just me? Or Junmyeon too?
Both of you
Omg I can’t believe I just sent that
Yeah both of you
“When can he come over? We should probably all have a discussion first, right? Ah, we have to clean the house,” you babble.
Junmyeon laughs, urging you to straddle his lap. He gives you a chaste peck on the lips, his hands settling onto your waist. “You’re so cute when you’re excited,” he says.
“You wanna feel how excited I am?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. Your fingers go to undo the tie of your robe, the cloth slipping off of your shoulders and down your back, exposing your body to him.
Junmyeon sighs softly, reaching out to cup your tits, then dragging his hands down your stomach and dipping his middle finger through your folds. “Oh, baby you’re soaked,” he coos, catching your lips in another kiss. He pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, your gasp heading straight to his cock, slowly twitching to life. “Your little boytoy’s got you all riled up, hm?”
“It’s not just that,” you say, slowly grinding your hips onto his hand. “It’s the thought of having both of you together.”
“Greedy,” he murmurs. He pulls his fingers out of you and lays you on your back, hovering on top of you. “What do you want us to do to you?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” you reply, whining when Junmyeon’s mouth descends to your tits, catching a nipple in between his lips. “I want… ah… I just want him to have a good time.”
Junmyeon reaches over to your nightstand and hands you your phone before continuing his path down towards your core, nudging your legs apart. “Why don’t you ask him what he wants?”
“Hmm?” you ask, your gaze flicking towards your phone. “What do you mean?”
“I mean call him,” he replies, licking a stripe up your slit. “Right now.”
You mutter a curse under your breath, but you obey all the same, shaky fingers tapping on your phone’s screen. A flicker of satisfaction and pride blooms in Junmyeon’s chest. He knows how you’ve presented yourself to Baekhyun thus far: an untouchable goddess, the charmer who had him pressed against the wall within minutes. While all of these things about you are undoubtedly true, he has yet to see you the way that Junmyeon loves to have you: stuttering over your words, legs shaking, mind going blank with pleasure.
“Hi, Baekhyun,” you say, pressing your phone to your ear, and oh the strain in your voice is so fucking cute. Junmyeon taps on your thigh and makes a gesture towards his face before he buries his tongue in your folds. Eyes on me.
“Oh, nothing.” You suck in a breath through your nose, your hand reaching out to bury your fingers in his hair. “I just wanted to know what you wanted Junmyeon and I to do to you.”
Junmyeon can picture his reaction — dark eyes going wide, a fiery blush rushing to his cheeks. Maybe even dropping his phone in surprise. Your thighs twitch around his head as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, hips jerking when Junmyeon flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit.
“Don’t be shy, baby,” you purr. “Tell us what you want, and we’ll make it happen. Pinky promise.”
Junmyeon slips two fingers into you and you stifle a gasp, your fingers abandoning his head and twisting into the sheets. He’s got you right where he wants you, just right on the edge of complete surrender. But you’re nothing if not stubborn. “I bet you want us to decide, hmm?” you say, your voice shaking but determined. “I bet you just want us to have you how we want it, just take whatever we want from you? Position you however we want?”
His cock twitches with interest underneath his pajama pants. Goddamn, you’re good. He can only imagine how Baekhyun’s taking it on the other end.
“Are you touching yourself, Baekhyunnie?” you whisper. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. Your pussy is squeezing around his fingers, and Junmyeon’s doubtful that the sounds of your wetness aren’t audible on the other end. You’re so close, he can feel it. “Me?” you ask, your eyes flying open to shoot Junmyeon a silent question. “Not quite,” you reply, taking the phone away from your ear. Junmyeon sees your thumb hovering over the FaceTime button. He nods at you, sucking your clit with renewed determination. “Wanna see?”
The FaceTime audio chimes, and Baekhyun gasps. “Oh, fuck,” he groans.
“Hi, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says, curling his fingers inside of you. You moan, finally able to let your noises flow uninhibited. “This one was so excited to hear that you wanted us both that she got so wet and needy. Did you know that you had that effect on her?”
“No,” he breathes. The angle makes it a little hard to see, but Junmyeon is able to make out Baekhyun laying in bed, shirtless, the camera shaking slightly.
“Well, you do,” he replies, “She’s soaking all over my fingers. She wants to cum so bad, I can feel it. Baby, tell Baekhyunnie just how badly you want to cum.”
“I want it, I want it,” you whine, arching your hips into Junmyeon’s waiting mouth. “It feels so good.”
“Do you think she should?” His thumb passes over your clit, sending another shockwave of pleasure through your body.
“I-I don’t know.” The flush on Baekhyun’s cheeks is apparent even in the darkness of his room.
“Please Baekhyun.” Your voice goes all breathy, and you give those eyes, that look that’s pushed Junmyeon over the edge countless times, to the camera. “I want to cum. Please let me cum for you.”
“Oh my fucking God,” he swears. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Cum for me.”
Your back arches off the bed, a loud cry leaving your lips. “Fuck, Baekhyunnie—” Your phone slips from your grasp and Junmyeon reaches up to grab it, flipping the camera so that Baekhyun has a perfect view of your folds, reddened and slick with Junmyeon’s spit and your cum.
“Isn’t she perfect?” Junmyeon hums, slowly dragging the pad of his thumb over your sensitive clit, making your thighs twitch. “All for you.”
“And you too,” you say weakly. “Both of you.”
“Will you fuck her for me?” Baekhyun asks, voice raspy and thick with arousal.
Junmyeon swallows, nodding slowly. It takes some maneuvering, but he positions you and the camera perfectly: your phone propped up on the nightstand and you on your elbows and knees, facing the camera. Baekhyun’s done some adjusting too and now you and Junmyeon are faced with the image of the younger man with his sweatpants pulled down to his thighs, his needy, pink cock curved against his stomach. One hand is wrapped around the base, squeezing himself lightly.
You’re needy, already pushing your hips back into Junmyeon’s touch the second his hands make contact with your hips. Your back is arched so prettily, sticking your ass up invitingly. Putting on a show, Junmyeon realizes.
“I didn’t think you’d be so…” Baekhyun trails off.
“Submissive?” Junmyeon supplies, slowly pushing the tip of his cock inside of you. You clench around him, already mewling for more. “If there’s one thing she likes more than finding pretty things like you, it’s begging.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Baekhyun asks, just a ghost of a playful tone underneath the lust in his voice.
“Of course I do, Baekhyun.” Junmyeon flicks his gaze up to the phone to admire the image of him. “You’re the prettiest yet.”
“Stop talking,” you whine. “Fuck me.”
Junmyeon raises his hand and smacks your ass, relishing in your pretty gasp before driving into you hard. Your mouth falls open, your head dropping onto the pillow in front of you, already falling apart so pretty for him. He’ll never get tired of this, those first moments when he enters you when you have to adjust to his considerable length, surprised as if this was the first time he’s fucked you. But Junmyeon also likes what comes next the best, when you snap back into reality, into this moment, and get lost in the throes of your own pleasure.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up, making you arch so good for him but also allowing Baekhyun to see your face. The younger man groans, jerking himself off slowly, eyes wide and transfixed on the view in front of him.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Baekhyun breathes. He pants lightly, hips jerking into the tight circle of his hand. “Fuck, I need you.”
“I— I need you too,” you whimper. Junmyeon can see your fucked out expression in the camera, your wide, glassy, needy eyes. “Want to suck Junmyeon off while you fuck me.”
Junmyeon groans, digging the tips of his fingers into your hips. “Jesus, baby.”
“It would be so good,” you whine, looking back at him over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes so invitingly. “Both of you just holding me there and making me take it. Making me your fucktoy.”
With a loud growl, Junmyeon buries your face in the covers with one hand on the back of your head, driving into you with brutal force. The wet sounds of your pussy are absolutely obscene, married with the slick sounds of Baekhyun’s hand sliding over his cock over the speaker. “Such a greedy little slut,” he mutters. “Begging for two cocks like this so shamelessly.”
“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Baekhyun says suddenly, voice thick with desperation. He bites his bottom lip and tips his head forward, eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of sensation.
“With her, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon commands, snaking a hand between your legs to circle your swollen clit. You look up from your position to lock eyes with Baekhyun’s image as your orgasm hits you, shaking and trembling.
Your walls constrict around him so perfectly that it doesn’t take much time at all for Junmyeon to spill inside of you too, holding your hips flush against his. You sigh happily, arching into it subconsciously in that way you do that has spurred on round two countless amounts of times. But tonight isn’t the night for that, Junmyeon thinks as he looks up at the phone. Baekhyun pants, catching his breath, ropes of cum spilled out onto his stomach.
“So good, baby,” you say dazedly.
Baekhyun shivers. “You two are insane.”
“Why don’t you come over sometime soon and we’ll show you how insane it can really get?” Junmyeon asks.
Baekhyun’s tongue darts out to lick at his lips nervously. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll text you guys when I’m free next.”
“Sounds good,” you giggle. “Goodnight, Baekhyunnie. Dream of us.”
“Bye,” Baekhyun replies, and the last thing Junmyeon and you see before the call ends is his flustered, blushing face.
It takes about a week for Baekhyun to text you back.
At first, you think you’ve scared him off. Maybe the whole FaceTime thing was coming on way too strong.
“It seemed like he enjoyed it though,” Junmyeon frowns, stroking your hair while you lay your head in his lap.
“He can enjoy it and still change his mind,” you sigh. “It’s probably a lot for him.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. He’ll come when he’s ready.”
Of course, you’re overthinking it, and Junmyeon’s right (which happens more often than you’d like to admit). Baekhyun texts late on a Thursday night, your phone pinging mere moments before you were about to fall asleep.
I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to ghost
Things just got so crazy with school
But I’m free this whole weekend!
Yay!! :))
But oh no that sounds stressful
Yeah it’s been pretty hectic haha
But some stress relief would be nice
I think we know how to help with that
You decide on spending the weekend at your house, assuring Baekhyun that he could leave before that if he wanted and the two of you wouldn’t be upset with him. All day you feel like a tornado around your place, cleaning up things that you would normally never think to keep clean, like the back of the fridge, or underneath the couch cushions. Junmyeon watches you with an amused eye, but he scrubs every inch of the bathtub just the same.
Evening rolls around and you’re in the middle of plating dinner when there’s a knock at your door. “I got it,” Junmyeon jumps off the couch a bit too eagerly and towards the front door. You check your reflection in the mirror one last time before you hear them rounding the corner, talking softly amongst themselves.
Baekhyun looks so cute, wearing a nice cream sweater and jeans, his glasses sliding low on his nose. His hair looks so fluffy and he runs a hand through it self-consciously, his other hand fiddling with the strap of his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “You have a beautiful house,” he says warmly, though the small anxious habits give him away: he’s nervous.
“Thank you.” You beam at him and wipe your hands on the kitchen towel before going to give him a friendly hug, kissing him briefly on the cheek. “And thank you for coming, Baekhyun. It means a lot to me. To us. Junmyeon will show you where you can put your stuff.”
Dinner is about as normal as it could be under these circumstances. In the past, you’ve had guests who just wanted to skip past the whole formality and just go straight to the bedroom, and others still have been too nervous to even get through dinner, making up an excuse to end everything early. Baekhyun, to your relief, is neither of those things. He actually seems much more relaxed here than he had at the bar, his chatting growing more and more animated as dinner goes on.
Junmyeon clears the dishes away, leaving the two of you at the table. “I just want to thank you again for giving us a chance,” you say softly.
Baekhyun smiles, blushing into his wine glass. “I really should be the one thanking you. I never would have thought that I would be able to do anything like this.”
“What do you mean?”
Baekhyun laughs, making a vague gesture with his hands. “I mean, look at all this. Look at you. Look at Junmyeon. And then look at me.”
“I’m looking.”
Both of you turn your heads towards Junmyeon, who neither of you realized has re-entered the room. You recognize that look in your husband’s eyes: sharp, perceptive.
Hungry.
He crosses the room towards Baekhyun and lets a hand trail across the back of his shoulders, before taking his previous seat between the two of you. “I’m looking, and all I see is someone that we’re both interested in. So there’s no reason for you to be self-conscious about anything.”
Baekhyun swallows, nods. Fidgets with the edge of the tablecloth for a second before settling his hands in his lap. You lean forward and rest your chin in your hands, tilting your head at the younger man.
“Bedroom?”
He follows the two of you silently, the air between you thick with anticipation. The bedroom door clicks shut behind you with an air of finality, sounding much too loud in the silent room. Baekhyun watches intently as you fall into Junmyeon’s embrace, leaning into him. He kisses you, slipping his tongue past your lips with a quiet determination, the way he knows you liked to be kissed.
Blindly, you reach out a hand to your side and wrap it around Baekhyun’s wrist, pulling him in closer to you. You move your head to the side and kiss him too, cupping the side of his face with your hand. His kisses are softer, less practiced, but oh so sweet. He exhales through his nose when you deepen the kiss, moaning softly when you run your fingers through his hair.
You turn your attention firmly towards him, pulling his sweater over his head while Junmyeon steps behind you to unzip your dress. You drink in his image: broad, broad shoulders and the lean muscle of his chest, down to the softness of his stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” you say, running your hands down his front appreciatively.
He keens at the praise, his eyes fluttering shut as he blushes. He reaches out to touch you as the fabric of your dress falls to your feet, soft hands brushing against your waist. You shiver when Junmyeon steps closer, pressing himself against your back, kissing the side of your neck. Their touch is everywhere, surrounding you on all sides, and it’s enough to make you feel weak even in these few short minutes.
Hooking your fingers in the belt loops of Baekhyun’s jeans, you turn the two of you around until his back collides with Junmyeon’s front, switching spots with him. He freezes when Junmyeon wraps his arms around his torso holding him in place as you sink to your knees. He moans softly when you reach up to pull down his pants, his leaking cock springing free from his boxers.
“Look at her,” Junmyeon whispers, his hold around Baekhyun firm and unyielding. “She looks so pretty when she does this.”
You wrap your hand around the base and lick at the underside of his tip, soft kitten licks while you look up at him through your eyelashes. Baekhyun’s breath stutters in his throat, throat bobbing as he swallows. “Shit,” he breathes.
“I’ve barely even started, Baekhyunnie,” you coo. You wrap your lips around him and slowly sink down onto his length, agonizingly slow. It’s torturous, the way you’re teasing him, not quite taking all of him in just yet. The main focus is on getting his nerves to settle, watching him slowly unravel in Junmyeon’s arms.
You look up just in time to see your husband settle his chin on the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, whispering something in the younger man’s ear that you can’t quite hear. It must have been something good, because Baekhyun shivers, his fingers twitching at his side. You take that as your cue to sink down all the way around him, your lips meeting your fingers at his base. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back, pulling out to run your tongue under his tip.
“You’re teasing him, baby,” Junmyeon purrs.
“Mhm.” You gather up spit in your mouth and let it dribble down his member, jerking him off slowly.
“Are you just gonna let her do that?” Junmyeon murmurs, turning his attention to Baekhyun.
He blinks, shaking himself out of his daze. His face and chest are flushed so prettily, lips slightly swollen from where he’s been biting down on it. “I don’t— fuck.”
“Here, let me help you.” Junmyeon releases him from his hold and reaches around to place a hand on the back of your head. After giving you a second to prepare, he applies pressure, sliding your mouth down, down, down until Baekhyun hits the back of your throat.
“She likes a little bit of direction,” Junmyeon hums, holding your hair in a loose ponytail to pull you back up. You cough, looking up at the two with watery eyes. “Verbal and nonverbal.”
Baekhyun reaches down, his hand taking the place of Junmyeon’s on your head. He uses his grip on your hair to keep you in place while he thrusts forward, fucking your face shallowly. You even out your breathing, focusing on keeping it slow and controlled, relaxing your jaw and throat as he grows bolder and bolder, pushing in with more speed and force.
Junmyeon leaves Baekhyun’s side and crouches down next to you, slipping a hand in between your thighs. You’re unable to stop the muffled whimper that leaves your throat as he drags his fingers through your folds. “Oh, she’s soaked,” he says. “You like letting Baekhyunnie use your throat like this?”
You moan around him, nodding your head as best as you can. Your vision is swimming with unshed tears, the weight of Baekhyun’s thick cock stretching your lips wide.
But it feels so good, seeing all of the reservations of the shy, unsure man that you met in the bar slowly drop away. The tension in Baekhyun’s shoulders is gone now as he fucks your face with motions that grow more confident by the second. The muscles in his thighs flex with each push forward. His noises, which at first were more restrained, now fall uninhibited from his mouth.
He pulls out fully and you cough, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Your throat feels a little raw, but it’s worth it to have Baekhyun so worked up. “Wanna eat you out,” he murmurs, dazed.
You let him take you by the hand and lay you on the bed, settling between your thighs like it’s second nature. Junmyeon joins your side and kisses you just as Baekhyun licks a strip up your slit, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. He swallows your soft cry when Baekhyun pulls away to suck a hickey into your inner thigh, his slight bite stinging your skin.
“You taste so good,” Baekhyun says, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and burying his face against your cunt, his tongue dipping into your wet hole. “Can’t get enough.”
Junmyeon unhooks your bra and takes your tits into both hands, massaging the mounds and sucking one nipple into his mouth. Your lips fall open, your breath coming in short gasps from the dual stimulation. Junmyeon’s teeth catching against your hardening nipple, Baekhyun’s tongue swirling around your sensitive nub: it’s all too much but not enough at the same time.
“Ahh, fuck.” You screw your eyes shut when you feel Baekhyun’s long, slim fingers prodding at your entrance, slipping inside in one smooth motion. He curls them inside of you right when he sucks on your clit, ripping a sharp gasp from you. He pumps them in and out as he flicks his tongue against you.
“I thought you— mm— said you weren’t very experienced,” you say breathlessly.
Baekhyun laughs. “I guess I’m a fast learner.”
It doesn’t take long at all for your hips to start bucking against Baekhyun’s mouth, your body chasing the friction all on its own. “Gonna cum already?” Junmyeon asks, amused. “He’s that good?”
“Yes,” you pant. “Yes, so good, Baekhyunnie.”
Baekhyun moans against you, looking up at you to watch you fall apart. His glasses are crooked, askew in the most adorable way. It’s a stark contrast to the absolute sin of his lips, dark and kiss-swollen, wet with you. He curls his fingers inside of you, brushing his thumb against your clit. “Cum for me,” he says breathily, eyes wide and awestruck.
Your thighs clamp around Baekhyun’s head as you cum, your back arching off the bed. Junmyeon holds you in place, one hand splayed on your hip and the other holding the back of your head up, forcing you to lock eyes with Baekhyun as your orgasm ripples through you. He devours you with his gaze, staring intently as he continues to fuck you through it, curling his fingers against your walls.
“Need you both,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”
Junmyeon positions you on all fours and stands in front of you, undressing himself until he stands fully bare. Your mouth opens on instinct, obedient, and he rewards you by slapping his cock on your tongue. “You did so well, love,” he murmurs, reaching out to cup your chin with his other hand. “Such a good girl for us.”
You arch into Baekhyun’s touch, pushing backwards onto him when you feel his hands roaming appreciatively on your ass. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance.
“Can I?” he whispers.
“Please.” You hardly recognize your own voice, high and breathy. “Need it so bad.”
He enters you slowly, his length stretching out your slick and sensitive walls. Your mouth falls open, and Junmyeon takes the opportunity to push his cock inside, instantly pressing against your throat. Unlike Baekhyun, he’s not nice with it at all. He knows your limits, if only to know just how far to push you. His hands move to the back of your head, holding you still as he thrusts into you.
“Holy fuck,” Baekhyun groans from behind, hands gripping your hips like a vice. He buries himself inside of you with each thrust, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back with the force of it, surrounded on all sides by the overwhelming pleasure, the slick sounds of sex filling the room and echoing across the walls.
“Feels good?” Junmyeon asks Baekhyun through gritted teeth, stilling when your nose is practically touching his skin, relishing in the sound of you gagging around him.
“Fuck, yes. She’s so perfect.”
Junmyeon pulls out and you gasp for breath, high pitched mewls leaving your hoarse throat when he slaps the side of your face with his cock, leaving a wet trail of spit across your cheek.. “What do you say to Baekhyunnie, hm?”
“Th-Thank you,” you sob, pressing your hips back to meet his thrusts. The walls of your sensitive cunt are already fluttering, tightening around him as the familiar pressure in your abdomen builds once more. “Can I— Can I cum?”
“Greedy,” Junmyeon tuts his tongue at you, thrusting into your mouth. “You just came. Hold it.”
You feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, your thighs and arms shaking from holding yourself up as the tension becomes impossible to ignore. You know you’re an absolute wreck, drool slipping down your chin and onto the bed, clenching the sheets in your fists, trembling between them, stretched out on both ends.
“So pretty when you’re needy like this,” Junmyeon grunts, holding your hair in a loose ponytail with one hand and wiping away the tears that are falling with the other. “You wanted this, right? I thought you wanted to be our fucktoy.”
You nod, arching your back when you feel Baekhyun’s touch, following the curve of your spine up your back to grab onto your shoulder. His pace is stuttering, growing increasingly more erratic with each thrust, low groans punctuating his heavy exhales.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, almost dazed. “You’re taking it so well.”
Your orgasm threatens to overtake you at his words and you blink up frantically at Junmyeon, trying to wordlessly convey your desperation. He lets you breathe, and the words tumble out of you of their own volition.
“I can’t— I can’t, please. Please, I need to cum.”
Junmyeon laughs, low and mean. He cups your chin with one hand and forces your gaze upward. “So pathetic.”
You whine. “Jun, baby, pleasefuckplease.”
“Cum then.”
It hits you like a clap of thunder, your body immediately going taut as it ripples through you, endless waves of white-hot pleasure overtaking your body. You scream, your chest falling onto the bed as you collapse under the weight of your orgasm, holding onto the sheets for dear life as Baekhyun continues to pound into you.
“Fuck,” he groans shakily. “I’m close.”
“Inside me,” you whimper, pulsing back onto his cock. “Cum in me, please, please.”
Baekhyun gasps, his grip tightening on your waist. “Can I?”
“If she’s gonna ask so nicely then why deny her?” Junmyeon says. He presses his hand against the back of your neck, pushing your head ever so slightly into the mattress. “You can.”
He holds you in place as Baekhyun rocks into you, cumming with a low, needy moan. You feel his cum filling you, painting your walls. You sigh in contentment, head and body feeling hazy and pliant, thighs twitching as he catches his breath.
Baekhyun barely has time to pull out before Junmyeon is tugging on your wrist, pulling you up onto the bed and situating you so that you’re on top, back facing him. His strong hands settle on your waist and pull you down onto the thick head of his cock.
“Jun,” you whine, hands scrambling at his thighs to find a place to hold on to as he pulls you down onto him. Your hips settle against his and you moan, dazed. You’re sensitive, so sensitive, but you find your body seeking the friction on its own, fighting through the ache in your muscles.
Baekhyun comes to your front and cups your face while you ride Junmyeon, rocking back and forth on top of him. “You did so good, baby,” you coo, dizzy and drunk with the aftershocks of your last orgasm coursing through your body. He doesn’t look like he’s faring much better— eyes half-lidded and nearly glazed over, “So fucking good for me.”
He keens, leaning in to kiss you messily, hands wandering down to cup your tits. “You’re so wet,” Junmyeon groans from behind you.
“It’s not all from me,” you breathe, rising up a little higher and slamming your hips down. “It’s Baekhyunnie, too.”
Baekhyun’s gaze flits down to where you and Junmyeon are connected and groans sharply, like the noise is being punched out of him. “Fuck, it’s leaking out of you.”
You look down to see that he’s right, Baekhyun’s cum is spilling out of your spent pussy, dribbling down Junmyeon’s cock and making a mess between your legs. You reach out and tug Baekhyun’s hair, his head jerking up with a yelp. Your lips connect with his once again, and you pull him close to whisper, “Why don’t you clean it up for me?”
Baekhyun’s eyes widen and he swallows, but sinks down between Junmyeon’s spread legs obediently. It takes a bit of maneuvering and readjusting the angle on your part, but soon he’s lying on his stomach, pink tongue darting out to lap at the mess while you continue to rock back and forth on Junmyeon’s cock.
“Jesus, fuck,” Junmyeon hisses, nails digging into your hips. Baekhyun’s tongue laves against the underside of his cock as well as your clit, giving both of you an extra jolt of stimulation. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks up at you with hazy, pleasure-drunk eyes.
“Good boy,” you coo, burying your hand in his hair. “You want to clean up Myeon’s too?”
He nods eagerly, leaning back when you prompt him so that you can have more room to ride Junmyeon. You grind down on him the way you know that he likes, arching your back as you pick up speed.
Behind you, Junmyeon pulls your hair, making you cry out. “You’re so nasty,” he groans.
You laugh breathlessly. “You love it.”
He answers by thrusting up into you hard, once, twice, three times before he’s spilling into you, hips jerking against your cunt. Baekhyun ducks his head down and flicks his tongue against your clit, making you gasp.
“You got one more in you, don’t you, angel?” Junmyeon says breathlessly, voice straining at the overstimulation. His hands hold you in place as Baekhyun continues to give soft kitten licks against your leaking cunt, pushing you over the edge for the final time. You tremble between them, too spent to do anything more than tuck your chin to your chest and whimper as your thighs twitch.
Your legs feel like jelly, but they both help you down, laying you onto the sheets. Junmyeon brushes your sweat-damp hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. “You did so good,” he murmurs reverently.
“You were perfect,” you smile. You turn your attention towards Baekhyun, who’s fiddling with the comforter between his fingers, looking at you expectantly. “You were perfect too.”
He perks up, not unlike a puppy would, and smiles. “Thank you. I’m glad.”
Junmyeon heads to the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone. You grab a few tissues from the bedside table and start to clean Baekhyun up. He makes an embarrassed, high-pitched sound in the back of his throat. “I should be doing that for you,” he says. He goes to grab some for himself but you push him down gently, silencing his protests with a kiss.
“Let me,” you say. “You did good, Baekhyun.”
He stays still while you clean him, only moving when you’re done to return the favor. The shyness has returned to his touch, still unsure about the ways in which he’s allowed to touch you. You want to tell him that nothing’s off limits, especially now, but you figure you have the rest of the weekend to convince him of that fact.
Junmyeon returns with a couple glasses of water, his sweats hanging low on his hips. He sets them down on the nightstand and crawls into bed on your other side.
Baekhyun looks between the two of you, an indescribable, uncomfortable expression crossing his face. “Should I… Where should I sleep?”
You blink at him. “Here?” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t wanna intrude.”
Junmyeon snorts. “Baekhyun, if it were even possible for us to feel like you were intruding it probably would have been before you licked your own cum out of my wife while I fucked her.”
Baekhyun’s ears burn bright red and he groans, hiding his face in your neck. You lightly whack the back of Junmyeon’s head, wrapping an arm around the younger man. “Don’t embarrass him, Jun, what’s the matter with you?”
He laughs, reaching out to card his hand through Baekhyun’s hair affectionately. “I’m sorry, Baek, I’m just messing around. But seriously, this bed has more than enough space for all three of us.”
Baekhyun makes a sound that’s halfway to acceptance against your skin. Junmyeon continues, “And if it really matters that much to you, I can set up the couch for you but,” he makes a big show out of pretending to yawn, “It’s really late and I’m tired and wouldn’t you just rather fall asleep right now?”
“Well when you put it like that…”
Junmyeon turns off the light and the three of you settle into bed, Baekhyun on your left and Junmyeon on your right. As you get comfortable in between them, drifting off into a peaceful sleep, you can’t help but hope that in the future you have many, many nights just like this one.
thank u for reading! for more, check out my masterlist.
genre: fluffy college!au, sister's (not best) friend suho x reader, chanyeol x reader (not really)
summary: you get rejected by your crush and ask your sister for help to talk to boys </3 lots of misunderstandings and miscommunications heheheheh
7.3k words
You’re pacing back and forth in front of your sister’s room, debating in your head. This feels insanely stupid and childish. You were close to Stephanie. This shouldn’t be hard to ask.
“I can hear you drag your feet out there.” She finally calls out to you, tired of the incessant noise you were making.
“Sorry.” You open her door and carefully shut it behind you. “I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” She continues to type on her laptop. Her nails are freshly done in her classic pink shade. Her hair is curled so effortlessly. Her lash extensions look so natural on her. She’s beautiful. She’s always been so beautiful.
“Um,” You find a spot on her freshly made bed and find a plushie to hug to ease your nerves. “There’s this guy...”
The typing is put to a halt and Stephanie slowly turns around to face you, jaw dropped. You have never been interested in boys before. You asked your parents to enroll you in an all-girls high school, that’s how uninterested you were in them. Stephanie cannot believe her own ears. “Say that again.”
“Steph... Please, it’s so embarrassing.” You hide your face in the plushie.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’ve just never been into guys like that before.” She sits next to you on her bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I told a guy I liked him and...” You can’t even say it. It’s too humiliating. “He said I was too... ‘sweet’.” You groan, wishing that the memory of your crush rejecting you dissipates from your mind.
“And what’s wrong with that?” She rubs your back gently. She’s so comforting and warm, sometimes you wonder if all sisters come built like this.
You finally sit up straight and pout in her direction. She tilts her head with a consoling smile.
“Nothing’s wrong with being sweet. Kindness is a strength and anyone would be lucky to have someone as kind as you are.” She gently places a hand on your cheek. “He doesn’t know what he passed on.”
You feel like crying. She is one of the sweetest people you have ever met. She is the definition of perfection. You don’t know what you did in your previous life to deserve a sister like her.
“It’s just...” You think for a second, biting your lips nervously. “I realize I don’t think I even know how to approach guys. Can you teach me?”
Your sister’s brows rise in surprise.
“You’ve had boyfriends before and you have guy friends.” You try to explain the logic behind the thought. You watch her think for a bit, examining your pitiful state (you imagine but you know she’s too sweet to think that of you).
Then, like the fairy godmother that she is, she perks up and agrees.
You have no idea what you just signed up for.
--------
Stephanie, or as her friends call her: Tiffany, invited you to come study with her and her friends at the library. You hadn’t put too much thought into it. So, really, you should have expected this.
You were met with a room of four men and your sister. Sorry, you forgot to add a bit more context. You were met with four extremely attractive men. How your sister met all these guys. You have no clue.
“You found it!” Your sister stands up excitedly, hands settling on your shoulders. “Guys, this is my sister, Y/N. Please take care of her as if she was your own.”
She introduces you to them individually.
There was Minseok: the sports science major with fox-like eyes you wonder how many people have fallen in love with him just by staring into them, Yixing: the fine arts major who smiled sweetly at you before he went back to work, typing away on his laptop, Chanyeol: the music major with the loud voice and who was by far the friendliest and welcoming, and finally Junmyeon: the poli-sci major who immediately caught your eye – you couldn’t tear your eyes off him.
You gulp nervously when Junmyeon smiles at you, his eyes look like they're shining. You weren’t aware how beautifully handsome someone could be. You wonder if he and your sister have ever dated. You feel like they would be the picture-perfect couple.
“Sit here.” Your sister sits you beside Chanyeol who is already beaming at you. It’s kind of freaking you out. You cautiously take out your laptop and shoot him a nervous smile. Were all guys this friendly?
"You look terrified.” Chanyeol grins at you. He’s right. You are. You have never been in the same room as these many guys before. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” He says before shooting you a comforting smile and putting his headphones back on.
Curiously, you peek a glance at his screen. Your mouth opens in amazement when you see a complex looking screen with a bunch of colourful bubbles that you don’t think you’ll ever quite understand. Chanyeol feels your stare and pauses his work. “Do you want to hear?”
You nod timidly. He smiles and puts the headphones over your ears. He presses play for you, biting on his lip in anticipation. Your eyes immediately widen in amazement. His voice was the perfect mix of smooth and raspy. Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“You made that?” You can’t tell if you’re yelling but Chanyeol is laughing at you and you can’t help but smile back. Interacting with a man seems easy. He nods, shoulders shaking from laughing. “It’s really good!”
Chanyeol loses his shit and throws his head back before taking the headphones off.
“Sure, Chanyeol, destroy my sister’s hearing.” Tiffany says sarcastically before she turns back to Junmyeon who laughs subtly through his nose. She listens intently to him as he gets serious again and explains a concept to her. You watch as his lips purse as he talks – pink and glossy, likely from the constant licking he was doing from talking so much. Your sister doesn’t even look at him when he explains. It’s blowing your mind. This is the first time you are seeing your sister do something wrong. Because Junmyeon looks absolutely stunning. You don’t think you would even be able to concentrate if he was your tutor. You don’t even notice that Chanyeol is asking you a question.
“He’s handsome, huh?” Chanyeol leans in closer so only you could hear him. You jump in your seat and almost fall off when you see how close he is to you. He catches you before you fall.
“What did you think of my song? It’s my final project.” He asks as if he didn’t just catch you ogling his friend.
"I-It was really good!” You stutter like an idiot. You make the mistake of glancing at Junmyeon and your sister who are both staring at you with concern. Of course they are. They’re perfect people. Perfect people who check on the condition of others.
You avert your attention back to the comforting presence that is Chanyeol.
“Ohh! Thank you! I’m so glad you like it.” He cheers and grabs something from his pocket. “Here, have a candy.”
“Are you Pavlov-ing her to like your music?” Junmyeon finally talks loud enough for you to hear and your ears melt. His voice is soft but not in the way that makes him look weak, more in the way that makes people want to listen to what he has to say. But most importantly, you melt because he’s funny too.
“No! She genuinely likes it. Right, Y/N? You’re not lying to be polite?” Chanyeol looks at you expectantly, head tilted playfully with big eyes staring into you.
“N-No! I would never!” You shake your head quickly and turn to Junmyeon to show him that you do enjoy Chanyeol’s music.
When you do, your hearts races.
He’s fully smiling at you, eyes crinkled into crescent moons, wrinkling the corners of his eyes beautifully. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone smile so brightly like that before.
“I’m just teasing, Y/N.” He laughs it off before returning his attention to your sister.
The heavy feeling in your chest returns as you spend the entire study session sneaking glances at your sister and Junmyeon.
--------
Stephanie’s first step in her guidebook to getting familiar with men is a success. She’s happy to see that Chanyeol has made an impression on you.
“Oh, hey Chanyeol. What’re you doing in my kitchen?” She asks in her pink silk set and matching fluffy pink slippers. She just woke up, yet she looks so put together.
“Chanyeol and I are going to go for a run!” You exclaim, blender in hand.
“That explains the headband.” She taps Chanyeol’s head teasingly before she clicks on the kettle to start boiling her water. Stephanie has a glass of warm water every morning, says it’s good for her metabolism and gut health.
Your sister takes care of her body with a fragility and femininity touch, focusing on what feels right for her body. You take care of your body by putting it through heavy lifting and tracking your macros.
Stephanie does pilates and spin while you powerlift and jog.
“That’s good. You finally found a jogging buddy.” She scrunches her nose at you, booping it affectionately. “Chanyeol, I didn’t know you ran.”
"Not as fast as Y/N.” He smiles in your direction as you pour your magic smoothie that boosts your energy before a run. He has a taste of the green coloured mix, still skeptical. You watch the light in his eyes return and his ears perk up realizing that you haven’t poisoned him. “This is delicious!”
Chanyeol chugs the rest of the drink while you giggle, pouring yourself a glass.
Stephanie stops the kettle midway as not to get to a boil and eyes you both as she drinks her warm water.
“Hm...” She hums, small smile appearing on her lips.
“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“Nothing.” Her grin doesn’t get any smaller.
Weird.
--------
Stephanie had texted you that the group would be meeting at the same study room you’ve all grown accustomed to. You arrive a lot earlier than the others, opting to study a bit more before you had to be in the same room as Junmyeon. You were in for another distracted session for sure.
You find a spot on the couch near the room that’s still being used by other students. You check the time and pull the tiny coffee table closer to you and get settled. There’s still lots of time to get some work done. You manage to get a head start on your final essay at the end of the semester, drafting the structure and topics you want to highlight. Maybe you should do a bit more of the reading too.
A hand waves in your face, disturbing the current flow state you were in.
You raise your gaze at the culprit in annoyance, brows furrowed.
They quickly raise in surprise instead when you see Junmyeon’s bright smile directed at you. Your mouth is slightly agape. Your hand shakily moves your headphones from your ears, wrapping your neck instead. It’s a bit hard to breathe when he’s looking at you so prettily.
“Can I sit with you?” Junmyeon gestures the empty spot next to you and you scooch a bit to make space.
“O-Of course! Come sit!” You feel like hitting yourself on the head. If Stephanie was here, she would 100% be giggling to herself with how ridiculous you’re acting around him. But how can you act normally when he smells like a fresh basket of laundry and his smile is bright enough to light the city?
“Looks like there’s still people in there.” He makes small talk as he situates himself beside you. He gets comfortable in his seat. He’s wearing the university’s hoodie paired with baggy denim jeans. It’s a simple outfit most people throw on lazily but on him, it looks curated and intentional like he was going for the college boyfriend look. You must be going crazy. Junmyeon’s chuckle breaks you from your reverie.
“Sorry? I wasn’t listening.”
“I figured. I was asking what you were working on.” He’s amused by you. You would too if someone acted a fool around you.
“Oh.” You say, as if you couldn’t believe he would be interested in what you were doing. “My final essay for intro to psych. I was just drafting it. I figured I’d start early so I don’t rush it later.”
“Psych?” He tilts his head. “I thought you were a Kinesiology major.”
You’re surprised he knows this. He’s never asked you this before. Stephanie probably told him when introducing you to the group.
“It’s just an elective my advisor suggested.” You shrug. It wasn’t your first choice but you were growing to like it. It’s just a course to get through the first semester.
“I took it my first semester too. Let me see.” He scoots closer to you and turns your laptop slightly to see your notes. The whole library probably heard the sharp breath you just took the second he got close to you. “Relax, I’m not going to judge.”
He scoffs at your reaction; the edge of his lip rising in amusement. You wonder if the library also hears how loud your heart is racing right now.
“Colour-coded notes... Cute.”
Your hand flies to your mouth to cover the ridiculous smile growing on your face. Your cheeks were burning and hurting. You look around the library, anything other than Junmyeon’s unnecessarily perfect and smooth face and pursing lips as he concentrated to read your notes. Your eyes set sight on Chanyeol and you can’t help but feel relief, letting go of the breath you were holding.
“Chanyeol!” You exclaim, jumping up to greet him. He raises an arm for you and you give him a side hug.
“Hey Y/N.” His smile eases the tension built in your chest. “Hey Junmyeon. Were you guys studying together?”
Junmyeon slowly leans away from your laptop and gives Chanyeol a small nod. “I was just looking at her notes.”
“Ah.” Chanyeol says, shifting his eyes between you two. “The study room’s empty if you guys want to move in there.”
Junmyeon nods politely, closing your laptop. He grabs it and your backpack too.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” You reach to take your stuff from him but he pulls it slightly away, insisting.
“It’s right there, Y/N. I got it.” He reassures you with that warm smile of his.
If the library didn’t hear your heart before, you’re sure they’ve heard it now.
--------
“I don’t know about this, Steph...” You pull down on Stephanie’s skirt she lent you for this party.
“It’ll be fun! Chanyeol will be there.” Your sister hooks an arm around yours excitedly. She’s like a puppy the way she yaps and jumps around you.
“Okay?” You raise an eyebrow at the mention of Chanyeol. You didn’t want him to see you like this either.
“All I’m saying is this could be the perfect opportunity to practice how you flirt with guys.” She explains, dragging you to the front entrance where a line has already been formed to get in.
“It’s a frat house.” You say, scanning the crowd of beautiful women and attractive men. She is throwing you into the ocean and you can’t even swim.
“They’re normal guys too, you know.” She senses your judgement.
“No, they’re not! They drink and party, probably do keg stands too!” You try to say it as lowly as possible as not to offend literally everyone here tonight.
“Not all of them.”
“Name one.”
“Junmyeon.”
“Oh.”
“Tiffany! Y/N! Come inside!” Minseok’s voice disrupts the moment, waving for you both to come in. You hear a bunch of groans and complaints behind you that you will choose to ignore. Of course your sister had an in to this party. You just didn’t know it would be because of the same boys you formed a study group with.
“Just try to have fun. If you feel uncomfortable, find me or Chanyeol.” It’s the last thing she says before she’s being dragged in all sorts of directions by different people. You don’t even get the chance to respond. This is her second time mentioning Chanyeol. Did she like him or something?
The reminder sets off something in your head and you’re met with the realization that you really don’t want to be here. Your skirt was way too short. There were too many people screaming, drinking and dancing. You just don’t fit in.
You try scanning the crowd for Chanyeol but you don’t find that giant head of his anywhere. Feeling hopeless, you go up the stairs. It might be a bit quieter there. Without thinking, you open the first door you see.
“Oh, sorry!” You say when you see a pair of legs on a bed.
“Y/N?”
You freeze at the door then come to your senses when Junmyeon leans forward, guitar on his lap. He waves you in with a smile on his face. He removes his headphones and puts his guitar back on the stand. You enter, closing the door behind you.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” You apologize and sit at the edge of his bed, pulling on your skirt before it rides any further. His room is a bit messy which was not what you expected of him. He just seems like such a clean guy – he does smell like one after all.
There was a chair with a bunch of clothes on it. There were also a bunch of rock posters plastered on his walls: The Beatles and Coldplay for instance. You thought he’d be more into classical music or maybe musicals. Something classy. He is full of happy surprises.
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. He gets up from his bed and grabs a hoodie and sweatpants from the pile of clothes. “You look uncomfortable. Do you want to borrow these?”
Your heart races once again.
You nod and Junmyeon hands you his clothes before turning around to let you change. You wear the sweats over your crop top and skirt. It smells so ridiculously like him. You take one last sniff before sitting criss-cross on his bed, a lot more comfortable now.
“You play guitar?” You try to avert your attention from the overwhelming feeling in your chest.
He turns around, hearing you get on his bed. He’s staring at you with a glint in his eyes. His cheekbones pop out when he grabs the guitar again.
“Yeah! Do you want to hear?” He sounds so excited to show you, grabbing the headphones and handing them to you. You smile and let him put them over your ears instead - his fingers brushing over your red ears. You’re glad your hair is covering them.
“Tell me if it’s too loud.”
You nod, biting on your lip unconsciously. The more you got to know him, the more your attraction for him grew. He was different from your expectations in the best way possible.
He starts playing a beautiful riff. There is something about the electric guitar that makes it sound as sensual as it is romantic. You stop yourself from leaving your mouth agape, biting on your cheek nervously. There’s a pit growing in your stomach that you’ve only ever felt once in your life when you read a explicit book for the first time. You avoid eye contact with him when he stops.
“Was that bad? You didn’t seem to like it.” Junmyeon’s smile is present, but his brows show you that he seems a bit embarrassed.
"No!!” You shake your head vigorously and finally meet his eyes. It’s taking a lot in you not to cry, finding it frustrating that you don’t know how to be comfortable around him. “It was genuinely beautiful. I’ve never heard that song before.”
“Oh, thank you. I wrote it.” He tells you casually.
This man can’t be real.
“You wrote that? You’re so talented! Why aren’t you in music with Chanyeol?” You ask in disbelief. He shrugs, leaning forward to help you take off the headphones.
“It’s just a hobby. I want to be a lawyer.” He places the blue strat back on the stand next to his bed and leans against the headboard. The image is a bit too much for you. Seeing him in an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants feels too intimate. You stare into his eyes, distracting yourself from how good he looks sprawled out on his bed.
“Ohh, well I think you’re really gifted.” You compliment him one more time. “What other hidden talents do you have?”
He laughs, his eyes smiling at you brightly once again. “You’re cute.”
You swoon. You’re shocked you haven’t fallen off his bed over that comment.
Maybe it’s because making him laugh feels like one of your greatest accomplishments. You hope you can make him laugh over and over again so you can hear that beautiful sound nonstop.
“Just the one. What about you? Can you play?”
“No, no. I only listen to music. I can’t make it.” You wave your hands embarrassingly. You don’t really have hobbies, unless you count the gym as one.
“Sure you can. Here, I’ll show you.” He moves off the bed and nudges you to turn your body to the left. You follow, letting your legs fall off the bed. He places the guitar on your lap and crouches in front of you. His fingers wrap around your wrist and places them on the neck.
“Relax your fingers.” He taps twice on your knuckles and for the first time tonight, he eases your tension even with the next thing he says. “Good girl.”
He does all the work, placing your three fingers on three strings in a row. There’s something so calming with the way he touches you. He’s being so gentle with you.
“Strum.”
You listen to him, strumming the guitar with your thumb like you see musicians do all the time. You’re shocked to hear a cohesive sound.
“Woah.”
“Not bad, right?” He beams as he looks up at you with those dark and glossy eyes. You’ll probably dream of them tonight.
“No. It was really fun-”
“Junmyeon, have you seen-”
Your head turns to see Chanyeol at the door, holding onto the doorknob. He blinks once, twice, before saying something.
“... Y/N.” He finishes his sentence with a blank stare. You’ve never seen him like this before. Chanyeol was always so perky and happy to see you.
“Hey Chanyeol! Junmyeon was just teaching me a chord.” You say innocently, not putting too much thought into it. Junmyeon stands up from the ground and that’s when you see Chanyeol’s eyes widen ever so slightly.
“You’re wearing his clothes.” He says, completely ignoring what you just said.
“She looked uncomfortable, so I lent her some clothes. I hope that’s okay.” Junmyeon clears up any misunderstanding for you.
“Of course it’s okay.” Chanyeol’s usual tone and facial expression returns. “Your sister is looking for you.”
“Ah.” You try to put the strat back on the stand but Junmyeon grabs it for you. “Thank you for spending time with me, Junmyeon.”
“No, thank you. Good night, Y/N.”
You shoot him one last smile before disappearing behind the door and back into the loud party with Chanyeol. Your heart is still in disbelief of what just happened.
Chanyeol escorts you to the kitchen where Stephanie is talking to some other friends. She finally sees you by Chanyeol’s side and tilts her head curiously with a sly smile. You wonder what she’s up to with that mischievous grin on her face.
“Hi Y/N~” She says with a little playful tone. She must be tipsy. She suddenly looks up at Chanyeol with the brightest smile. “Thanks, Chanyeol, for bringing my sister to me~”
“It’s no problem.” He replies, tone still a bit different than you’re used to.
Stephanie hooks her arm around yours with the same cheeky grin she’s been sporting since you got here.
“I’m so happy for you!” She randomly squeals in your ear, making you laugh at how silly she’s being.
“Happy for what?” You indulge her, just happy that she’s happy.
“Come on, you’re wearing Chan-”
“SHOTS!!” Yixing comes out of nowhere with a tray full of tiny cups and shoves them in our faces. Your sister grabs two: one for her and another for presumably you. She doesn’t say much, only winking at you and downing the drink.
You follow her lead and immediately gag at the awful taste and burn in your throat.
You wish you could sneak back into Junmyeon’s room and learn the guitar just a bit longer.
--------
You can’t stop thinking about Junmyeon. Even as you’re highlighting notes in your textbook, you don’t halt your thoughts for a second. The way his fingers were delicately touching yours. The way he smiled when you complimented his song. And the way he noticed immediately how uncomfortable you were in Stephanie’s clothes. Junmyeon was making it insanely hard to get over this silly crush on him.
“Y/N.” Chanyeol calls your name and your bubble bursts. He smiles when he sees you come back down to Earth. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” You say, adding the cap back on the highlighter and put all your attention onto him.
“It’s a bit out there. And I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.” Chanyeol looks really nervous. He’s rubbing his pen with his thumb and you can feel his leg shaking under the table.
“It won’t. I can’t afford to lose a jogging buddy.” You joke, taking a sip from your bottle.
“I just want to make sure I’m not reading this wrong. But do you like Junmyeon?”
Caught off guard, you choke on your drink. You tap your chest to clear the liquid from your throat. Chanyeol also helps, patting your back.
“W-What- How did you?”
“You’ve liked him since the day we all met, right?” Chanyeol cuts you off. He’s looking at you expectantly like he’s being a good cop and you’re the criminal he’s interrogating. “I can tell by the way you look at him. And I’m saying this to you as a friend who wants to give you advice - which you can take or not of course.”
You didn’t know you were being that obvious around Junmyeon.
“You should tell him how you feel.” Chanyeol’s eyes soften and he looks... sad? He isn’t - hasn’t been his usual jolly self since the party and you’re unsure why.
“But what if he rejects me? Like the other guy? I’m so scared, Chanyeol.” Your gaze lowers to your hands on your lap. This is embarrassing. Chanyeol was able to read you at first glance and you were still stuck in square one, unable to talk to your crush without dysfunctioning and having your heart jump out of your chest.
“You won’t know how he feels until you tell him. You have to tell people how you feel when you feel them, Y/N.” He stops and thinks for a second before resuming. “Otherwise... You might miss out on other opportunities.”
“I can’t even be myself with him. I get so nervous and jittery. I’m not ready.” Your head falls onto your textbook in embarrassment. “I just want to be as calm with him as I am with you.”
Chanyeol scoffs and makes you turn your head so your cheek was on a page and you were facing him instead.
“I promise you you’ll get there with time. That’s just what having a crush feels like.” He pats your head gently and smiles at you comfortingly. You could always count on him to cheer you up.
You straighten yourself and go for a hug. “Thank you so much Chanyeol.”
It takes him a second before wrapping his arms around you tightly. His head rests at the top of your head while his hand rubs your back.
“Don’t mention it.”
The hug is cut short when you hear the door to the study room open.
“Oh, sorry we didn’t mean to interrupt.” Stephanie comes in with the same twinkle in her eye as that time at the party. Junmyeon is right behind her. He shoots you a faint smile before shifting his eyes to the floor, not even greeting you or Chanyeol with enthusiasm like he usually does.
Did you offend him somehow?
Maybe you accidentally said something at the party. You think hard to that night. But nothing comes to mind. You thought Junmyeon and you had a really good time for the short time you were together.
You purse your lips, trying not to let it get to you. What if you missed the window of opportunity like Chanyeol warned you?
“Oh shoot. I forgot my textbook in my locker. I’ll be right back.” Stephanie says as she rummages through her purse. “It’s so far though…”
“I’ll walk with you.” Chanyeol stands up and follows your sister out the door, passing you with a comforting pat on your back. You exhale as you realize what he’s doing.
Your eyes follow Junmyeon as he sits in his usual spot across from you. He’s still quiet, refusing to look at you.
A thought crosses your mind.
“Um, Junmyeon…”
He lifts his head instinctively, finally meeting your eyes. You can tell he’s silently regretting it. There’s a gloomy look in his gaze and you really want to make him feel better.
“I just wanted to thank you for lending me your clothes on Friday. It was really nice of you.” You clear your throat to calm the nerves. Somehow you’ve convinced yourself that the reason he won’t reply and probably hates you is because you haven’t returned his clothes yet. “I promise I’ll get them back to you. I just wanted to wash them first.”
“There’s no need for that.” Junmyeon’s smile returns but it’s too polite… too nice. It doesn’t feel like him. His genuine smile is contagious and warm, not cold and foreign. His gaze goes back to his laptop as yours don’t leave his form.
You’re pouting now. This somehow feels worse than the first time you got rejected. Probably because you actually know the guy this time.
You have to tell people how you feel when you feel them.
“Junmyeon!”
His eyes widen and he’s staring at you all freaked out. You don’t think you’ve ever raised your voice at anyone before.
“I- I-” The confidence is quick to fade away but you have to keep going. “I like you. And I’m sorry if I’ve offended you somehow but I thought we got along really well on Friday and- and whatever it is you have a problem with, please tell me now because I’m going crazy here.”
Junmyeon stares at you in what you think is a look of disbelief.
“Or don’t. Please ignore what I said.” You sit back down and focus on your laptop, moving your cursor all over your screen, not necessarily clicking on anything.
“You like me?” He breaks the silence, lips curving into a smile.
But it’s quick to leave his face. And there’s a pit growing in your stomach.
“Yes.” You say nervously, biting on your lip. It feels like an eternity waiting for him to say anything else. He’s thinking really hard, you can tell by the way he purses his lips. The face is all too familiar. It’s the same face your first crush had when he was rejecting you. You want to bury yourself under a bunch of sand and let the ocean take you out with a big wave. “I-It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I won’t take it personally-”
“Wait, no.” Junmyeon’s eyes shift to you then to the door. “Um, come.”
Before you knew it, Junmyeon grabs your wrist and pulls you up and out of the study room, leaving all your belongings behind.
“My laptop...” You pout as he brings you to one of the empty aisles of the library.
“They’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” Junmyeon comforts you but it’s not enough to ease the anxiety that’s blown out of proportion inside of you. You just want to shake out the rejection from his mouth. He brought you here so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of your friends. That must be it. You’re Stephanie’s inexperienced younger sister, of course he wouldn’t want you-
“Listen,” He starts and you hold your breath. “You’re really nice and sweet.”
Here it comes.
“I just... want you to think about this a little bit more. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. You’re just getting over a different guy. I don’t want to rush into things so quickly...” He says a bit too fast, like he’s trying to get rid of the words and get this over with. He’s looking at you with a softened gaze like he’s handling a dried bouquet of flowers and trying not to make a mess before he throws it into the trash.
“Oh, no worries. I get it.” You wave him off like it’s no big deal; the sting in your eyes burning extra hard. The shake in your voice isn’t hard to ignore either. “I’m sorry for making things weird.”
“Y/N... Wait, that’s not-” He tries to reach for you but you retreat first.
“No, really, it’s okay.” You force a smile before turning back and rushing to the study room. The tears come out a lot easier than it is to stop them.
You open the door and are met with four pairs of eyes staring at you.
Stephanie is the first to get up and check on you. You dodge her and grab your things, slinging your bag onto your shoulder before you head to the door.
“Y/N? What’s wrong? Where’s Junmyeon?” You hear Chanyeol’s voice behind you and his chair screech to check on you too. Overwhelmed, you leave the room and head anywhere else.
“Y/N, slow down.” Your sister is quick to follow you. She’s always been fast to be by your side. You don’t slow your pace though, walking even faster so she doesn’t see the tears running down your face.
So she follows. She’s with you the only way you’re letting her.
She trails behind you when you finally walk out the doors of the university and stop, unsure where to go next. She places a hand on your back and pulls you in for a side hug.
“Come, my car’s this way.” She says, pulling you in the direction of her parking spot. It’s not a far walk but it’s enough to calm you down from the heightened emotions.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N. So I can help you.” She asks when you finally get inside her car, giving you a moment to settle your breath before speaking.
Stephanie’s voice is filled with warmth and comfort. She feels like the sun and you can’t help but look her way.
“I confessed to my crush.” You tell her shyly. “And he rejected me. Again.”
You can’t believe you let this happen again.
She frowns.
“But you came in crying and Chanyeol was in the room.”
It’s your turn to raise your eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, unsure what she’s hinting at.
“Your crush? Isn’t it Chanyeol?” She asks like you’re the one who is lost.
You blink at her, once, twice.
“… Junmyeon. I told Junmyeon I like him and he rejected me.”
You can see the horror flash in Stephanie’s eyes and she covers her mouth.
“What?” You ask, mirroring her reaction. “Why’s this so hard to believe?”
“I’ve… I’ve been telling Junmyeon how you’ve been crushing on Chanyeol…” She says quietly, voice low and ashamed of what she’s done. You frown. When have you ever told her you were into Chanyeol?
You’re just getting over a different guy. Suho’s voice rings in the back of your mind. And that sentence finally starts to make sense to you. You thought he was talking about the first guy who you were definitely over.
“Y/N… I am so sorry. I can fix this!” Stephanie immediately goes on her phone and starts typing on her phone.
“Steph, what are you doing?” You watch as she nervously types, erases, types and erases.
“I’m texting Junmyeon right now.” She says frantically. You’ve never seen your sister so stressed out before.
“What? Why?” You take her phone and delete the message. “He doesn’t like me! That's not going to change.”
She steals her phone back and puts it away on her lap.
“No, Y/N, I think he does.” She deadpans.
“I was so fixated on you and Chanyeol. I didn’t put two and two together that you would be interested in Junmyeon. Oh god, I think I made a mess.” She continues. Her face is mixed with embarrassment and an eagerness to share her new-found revelation. “But Junmyeon definitely likes you.”
You don’t even know how to respond to her. She must have lost her mind. As if she sees the confusion on your face, she persists.
“He’s always asking about you.” She insists.
“Stop lying. He’s just being nice.”
“No, before I introduced you to the guys, he’s never once asked how my sister was, what your major was, what your schedule was or if we were meeting with you and the study group - even though I’m pretty sure you’re very comfortable talking to the opposite sex now and the study group is very much not needed anymore.” Stephanie looks very serious and… convincing. You can’t tell if this is just Stephanie’s communications bachelor’s talking.
“Y/N, how exactly did he reject you?”
You fold your lips into your mouth nervously.
Now that you think of it… You can’t remember the exact words.
It felt like a rejection.
Stephanie sees the hesitation in your face and for the first time, you see your sister get annoyed with you.
“We’re fixing this.”
--------
Stephanie has you pacing back and forth in front of Junmyeon’s fraternity house. She had dropped you off under the premise that you were going to a cute coffee shop to study for the upcoming midterms.
It’s been 15 minutes and she still hasn’t returned. She really did abandon you at the front steps like some stray cat. You feel your stomach turn as you approach the door. With a big gulp, you ring the doorbell.
You release the tension from your shoulder when Minseok opens the door with a bright smile.
“Y/N! Tiffany said you’d be stopping by.”
Your shoulders tense up again. You hope she didn’t tell them anything. Although, they did see you walk into the room with tears in your eyes. It would be weird if they hadn’t figured it out on their own.
“Junmyeon’s the first to the right.” He invites you in and throws a hand in the direction of the familiar room. So he does know. Great.
“He hasn’t really talked to any of us about what happened. Just been cooped up in his room playing the guitar.” Minseok pats you on the back and lead you to the stairs. “Just talk to him.”
You nod and find your way up the stairs that brought you to him the first time. You open the door to find him in the same position, legs straight on the bed, his cute feet covered in socks and moving to the rhythm of his music. You peek your head through to let yourself be seen but find his eyes closed and headphones on. Unsure how to approach this, you shut the door a little harder than you would usually.
He doesn’t budge, still strumming along the blue strat.
You bite your bottom lip and do the unthinkable.
You tickle his foot.
Junmyeon almost kicks you, eyes wide in surprise. Once it registers that it’s you, his body relaxes and he rushes to take off his headphones.
“I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” He comes to your side and inspects you for any damage he might have done.
“You didn’t even touch me.” You reassure him, offering him a small smile. You don’t let him say another word before you let yourself ramble.
“Junmyeon, I came to say I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I rushed out of there and didn’t let you finish. I really do enjoy spending time with you and I hope that we can still stay friends. And maybe you can still teach me the guitar?” You finally say the words you had been practicing in your head this whole week. The heavy weight on your chest has finally been lifted and your conscience is now cleared. It’s now up to Junmyeon to accept being your friend. You wait for him to smile and say no worries, let’s just forget alllll about it. And you can try to move on from his beautiful brown eyes that disappear when he smiles.
“But I don’t want to be friends.” He frowns.
And the heavy feeling returns.
“Oh.”
“No, no.” He approaches you, hands reaching your sides awkwardly as if he didn’t want you to run off in tears again. “Please don’t misunderstand. I like you. Like, really really like you.”
“Oh.” You were so ready for him to reject you kindly that this didn’t feel like an actual option. You didn’t think Stephanie would be right, but of course she was. It’s Stephanie.
“Please stop saying oh.” He bites onto his lip nervously, almost looking like he’ll cry right then and there.
“I’m sorry. I’m just having such a hard time believing any of this is real. But that’s my problem not yours.” You say, backing away from his hold.
Junmyeon pulls you in for the hug, wrapping his arms around you and refusing to let you run away again. It takes you a couple seconds to react but you snake your arms around once you’ve come to your senses that Kim Junmyeon is hugging you. You rest your cheek against his chest and you smell the familiar scent of his laundry you’ve grown addicted to. You feel his every tense muscle soften around your body.
“I’ve liked you ever since you walked into that study room looking all nervous to meet a bunch of guys. To be honest, when Stephanie first approached me, I thought it was a bit weird. We had only been study partners, and suddenly, she wants me to help her with her inexperienced sister.” He pulls away a bit so he can look at you as he confesses to you how he feels. Your heart stops when his lips curve into a smile and he laughs at the memory of Stephanie being Stephanie and doing the most to help you.
“But when you were yelling at Chanyeol with those headphones on, I was hooked. You looked so cute. I couldn’t wait to talk to you. I wanted to know more. I’ve never felt so curious about a person before.” He admits, resting a gentle hand on your cheek. “I couldn’t understand how someone so cute could ever get rejected.”
You gulp when his eyes flicker to your lips.
“Cute.” He mutters to himself before kissing your cheek and making your face unintentionally burn up. “So no, I don’t want to be just friends with you, but I would love nothing more than to take you out on a date and take our time getting to know one another.”
Your heart races at an impossible speed.
“And maybe guitar lessons?” You manage to mutter out like an idiot.
Junmyeon’s smile quickly morphs into the one you love so much, brightening the room and warming your heart.
“Maybe.”
Unable to contain your happiness, you return the smile and give him a quick peck on his lips.
“Well, it’s a definitely, now.”
✰ bonus ova here ✰
chananyeol bong: y/n is sucha big fluff ball omfg shes so oblivious that two men are fighting for her affection. if only that was meeeeee </3 (not really i would hate that) i hope you guys enjoy!!!! this was supposed to be 2k words MAXXXX but idk i let the writing gods take the wheel on this one. 🙏🏼😊 there's going to be a part 2 but the story is basically done!! part 2 is just a bonus for us!! 💓💘
and of course a happy early birthday to kim junmyeon!!! ilysm ty for being the rock of the family you sweet sweet boy!!! 🥹😭💖💗💌💘
You'll know his anger immediately because he will have this expression on his face and do the tongue thing and the eye stare. His anger level will depend on why he's mad and who he's mad at. If he's mad at you, he will be so petty and passive-aggressive, giving you short answers or a burly acknowledgment. If he's mad at something work-related, it's best to let him cool off and not try to make him more angry than he already is, but if he's mad because of a fan, then you'd better figure out a way to help him and calm him down because his your boyfriend and his mad at you.
Xiumin:
When Minseok is angry, it can be either of two ways. Either he is extremely quiet, but you can feel his anger, or he is talking and being so passive-aggressive. He would try to keep his anger in check and would try to spend time alone to calm down so he doesn't lash out at you or anyone else. His way to calm down would be a cleaning session around the house to keep his mind off things and to calm down, so you'd better expect a few hours of him cleaning and you better help.
Yixing:
He rarely ever gets angry, but when he does, you can tell by his facial expression, though he is always so sweet and nice, and even when angry, he will try to be nice and stay calm. He would take some time for himself to calm down, but he will never lash out at you or anyone because he's a sweetheart.
Baekhyun:
When he is angry, it will be shown in his eyes. His once soft puppy eyes are now replaced with a pissed-off look; he would be quiet, but his eyes say it all. He might act like his not be mad at you, but you might as well be careful around him. When he is angry at you, he will scold you and tell you what you did to get him angry, but after a while, he will calm down and will expect you to apologize.
Chanyeol:
When he's angry, it means you'd better get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He will start to frown at you from across the room; his tall figure and angry look will intimidate you. He won't say a word to you; he will just stare down at you, making sure you know he's angry and that it will take more than an “I'm sorry” to get on his good side, and even if you do, he will remind you what you did to get him pissed off.
Kyungsoo:
Run and hide and pray he doesn't catch you. This man will be so salty about whatever he's mad at; he will let you know his angry stare will get you, and he will complain. He will not hold back, and if you did something to piss him off, he will tell you exactly what you did, and if you try to apologize, he will cut you off, making sure his point came across and that you need to truly mean your apology.
Jongin:
This sweet baby will be so angry that he might cry; he will give you the silent treatment and ignore you when you try to talk to him. He will always walk away in the other direction when he sees you; he won't raise his voice, he won't try to talk, he will just avoid you and pretend you're not there. If his talking on the phone, he will make a passive-aggressive comment about you just so you know you have pissed him off, and to get on his good side, it will take cornering him and forcing him to listen to you, but you better have a good apology because he won't settle for the bare minimum.
Sehun:
He will be extra salty and will literally talk shit about you to his best friend Junmyeon right in front of you so you'll know you pissed him off and will also be so dramatic and tell everyone about how ungrateful you are for making him angry and might exaggerate when telling people why he's mad to make himself look like he's innocent.
summary hiding in the bathroom until sehun falls asleep seemed like a foolproof plan to save yourself from your honeymoon night but he is patient, awake, and waiting to show how he can't enough of his wife.
pairing husband!sehun x virgin wife! reader
warning mdni, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, mentions of blood
wc 4k of pure smut
a/n requested! this was kind of late haha i kept procastinating this sorry,i need just one word to describe sehun #daddy
playlist i got love by taeyeon, underwater by red velvet, love beyond by haechan, trampoline by red velvet—irene&seulgi, nobody knows by kiss of life.
heading back to the penthouse your husband had rented for the honeymoon, you sat quietly beside sehun in the car. his hand rested gently over your thigh, while the city lights blurred past the windows. your heart pounded against your ribs, anticipation making you unusually nervous. it was obvious what turn things were going to take when you reach at home.
you glanced at him, sehun noticed your nervous expression and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "you okay?" you nodded, taking a quiet breath. "...yeah" He didn’t look back at you, but his thumb moved on your thigh.
it started slow. a deliberate, dragging friction against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth, a maddeningly lazy rhythm sending tiny sparks of electricity racing up your spine.
you swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, but you turned your head to face him. you gave him a soft smile, a tentative offering of submission that he accepted with a slight, with a subtle curl of his lips. his eyes remained on the road, but the pressure of his hand increased, just enough to let you know he was acutely aware of the effect he had on you.
the car slowed to a gentle halt as sehun pulled up to the private entrance of the high-rise. he opened your door himself, extending a hand to help you out. you took it, your fingers sliding against his, and he pulled you up with a force that brought you crashing against his chest for a fleeting second before he steadied you, a grin playing on his lips.
he was suspiciously clingy as you walked toward the elevators. usually, he maintained a respectful distance in public, a cool aloofness that he dropped only in private. tonight, that mask was gone. his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his side as you walked.
he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, "you're so gorgeous, y'know that?" you just laughed it off.
of course he was possessive of you before you even got married, but this was different; this was a raw, unfiltered need that didn't care about an audience.
the elevator ride was a blur of mirrored walls and rising numbers. he crowded you against the back panel, his hands roaming freely over your hips, "hun, stop it—" his gaze dark and fixed on your mouth. "why?" a chuckle escaped his mouth, "are you shy?" his tone was sardonic.
when the doors finally chimed open, revealing the expanse of the penthouse, he didn't let you walk. he guided you with a firm grip on your waist past the floor-to-ceiling windows and the untouched champagne on ice.
the moment the front door clicked shut, sealing out the rest of the world, his resistant broke. sehun didn't wait for the bedroom, he didn't wait for you to catch your breath. he latched onto you, his hands gripping your waist with a bruising intensity as he guided you backward.
your legs hit the edge of the plush living room couch, and momentum took over. you both fell onto the cushions, the expensive leather creaking under the combined weight of your bodies.
you landed on your back, the breath driven from your lungs in a sharp gasp, but before you could recover, he was there. his body covered yours, heavy and demanding, trapping you against the soft cushioning.
his lips found yours, not gentle, but with the desperate hunger of a man starved. it was a crushing kiss, his mouth slanting over yours, swallowing your sounds as his tongue pushed past your lips.
your tongues tangled, a wet, slick slide that tasted of mint and the lingering sweetness of the wine at dinner. you moaned into his mouth, your hands moving instinctively to his shoulders, pulling him down closer, needing to eliminate every inch of space between you.
your body was trapped between his long legs, one of his knees wedging itself firmly between your thighs, forcing them apart. the position was vulnerable, exposing, and it sent a rush of liquid heat pooling in your core.
your fingers ran through his hair, threading through the soft, dark strands and tugging gently, drawing out a groan from him. he broke the kiss only to trail his lips down your jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck in sharp, teasing nips that made you arch your back.
you pressed your palms flat against his chest, halting him before things went further. "uh, let's wash up first…?" the words came out soft, almost seeking permission rather than giving direction. sehun blinked once, then twice, before nodding. "want to shower together?" his voice was low and rough, eyes heavy with lust as they locked onto yours.
your fingers traced his jaw, thumb brushing his skin. "you should go first. it'll be quicker." he exhaled sharply through his nose and stood, the thick outline of his cock straining against his pants, unmistakable and rigid. he didn't complain, just gave you a small nod and headed toward the bathroom.
the sight of him walking away with that obvious erection made guilt twist in your stomach. he knew you were a virgin. he'd always respected that boundary, never pushing past what you allowed. you'd promised him everything on your honeymoon night, but right now your nerves were winning.
you sighed and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge with your hands clenched into fists. the shower started running. minutes later, sehun stepped out with water still dripping from his hair, a towel slung low around his hips. his lean torso glistened, every line of muscle on display.
heat pooled low in your belly at the sight, but you stood quickly, eyes darting away. "i'll be quick," you mumbled, then hurried into the bathroom before he could respond. the door clicked shut behind you. your breath came fast, heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down at your feet, trying to steady yourself.
your heart hammered against your ribs as you leaned against the bathroom door, breath coming in shallow bursts. the image of sehun standing there in nothing but a towel clung to your mind—water sliding down the ridges of his chest, the way the fabric hung low on his hips, barely hiding what strained beneath. heat pulsed between your legs, but the knot of nerves in your stomach refused to loosen.
you stripped quickly, stepping under the spray. the water was warm, but it did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. you wanted him. god, you wanted him so badly it felt like a physical ache—a ghostly reminder of a boundary you refused to cross remained in your mind.
as you washed, your fingers brushed over your sensitive skin, each touch an unintentional provocation that only reminded you of how dangerously close you’d come to giving in on the couch. lost in a haze of longing and guilt, you decided to linger.
you hoped that by the time you finally stepped out, sehun would be fast asleep, sparing you from the tension that threatened to snap. you took your time, slowly rinsing your hair and scrubbing your body, letting the minutes bleed into forty. plenty of time, you told yourself.
when you finally unlocked the door, you nudged it open just a crack, peering out to see if the room was dark and silent. your eyes darted across the space, but he wasn't where he should be. a small frown creased your forehead as you stepped out fully, a single towel wrapped tightly around your body, clinging to your damp skin.
as you turned, you realized sehun was still awake—and he had been waiting for you. he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, hidden from your initial line of sight. your blood ran cold as your eyes met.
"oh?" you muttered, the sound barely a whisper. he stood up slowly, his hair dry and his frame draped in deep silk pajamas that shimmered under the dim lights. "you took your sweet time, didn't you?"
his voice was low, vibrating with an intensity that made your knees weak. you instinctively took a step backward, your grip on the towel tightened. "i was just..."
you looked down, unable to withstand the heat of his gaze, which remained fixated on you with a hunger that told you he knew exactly why you had stayed in that shower for so long.
"if you don't want to do it, you could have just told me." he closed the distance between you in a few slow, deliberate strides. as he leaned in, his breath fanned over your damp skin, sending a violent shiver racing down your spine.
"no, it's not that..." you stammered, your eyes dropping to the floor as you scrambled for an excuse. "i just...i thought you'd be sleeping by now." your voice had grown soft, almost fragile. suddenly, you were hyper-aware of everything; the way the damp towel clung to your body , the scent of your soap, and the intensity of his gaze tracing every inch of you.
"you thought i was asleep?" a dark, knowing grin spread across his lips. "why? are you scared?" you snapped your head up, shaking it frantically. "i know i told you that i'd—"
sehun let out a sharp huff, cutting you off. his hand reached out, fingers sliding into your wet hair and gripping gently, sending fresh chills rushing through your body. the contact was electric, grounding you and unraveling you all at once.
"if you don't want to do it, let's not," he stated clearly. his voice was steady, his eyes holding a look of genuine sincerity that should have made you feel safe but the heat coiling deep in your stomach; the pulsing, desperate ache between your thighs suggested something entirely different. your body was betraying your promise, screaming for the very thing he was offering to forgo.
"no." you mustered every ounce of courage you possessed, looking directly into his eyes. "i want to do it," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared." your eyebrows knit together, a flicker of vulnerability crossing your face. "i'm scared... what if you don't enjoy it with me? or what if i feel—"
sehun scoffed sharply, a sound of pure disbelief as if your doubt had personally offended him. "are you kidding me?"
he didn't waste another second. in one swift, decisive motion, he reached out and ripped away the only barrier remaining between you. the towel plummeted to the floor, leaving you completely exposed in the dim light. your hands flew up instinctively to conceal your bare chest, but he was already moving.
he lunged forward, his large, warm hands slamming against your damp, cooling skin. one hand clamped firmly around your waist, hauling you flush against his hard frame, while the other seized your breast, squeezing with a possessive intensity that stole the breath from your lungs.
he crashed his lips against yours. he kissed you like a starved man, his tongue demanding entry with a raw, desperate hunger. there was more need in this kiss than you had felt before—a passionate, overwhelming surge that swept away your fears and replaced them with a blinding, white-hot desire.
sehun hoisted you up in one fluid motion, and you instinctively locked your legs around his waist, clinging to him. your wet core pressed firmly against the luxurious fabric of his pajamas, the moisture quickly seeping through the silk, marking him with your own arousal. your fingers tangled deep into his soft hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with a feverish, desperate passion.
his grip on your waist was punishing, his fingers digging into your skin with a bruising intensity that only fueled the fire between you. with a low growl, he carried you the short distance to the bed and threw you back against the mattress. he was gentle enough not to hurt you, but the suddenness of the fall left you breathless and open.
he didn't waste a heartbeat before he was over you, his mouth descending on your neck. he began suckling and nibbling at the tender flesh, his teeth grazing you just enough to make you gasp. he was marking you—claiming you as his wife with a primal territoriality (naega wolf awooo saranghaeyo). vivid pink and purple bruises began to bloom across your neck and jawline, permanent stamps of his possession.
soft, broken whimpers escaped your lips, the sounds echoing in the quiet room. hearing your surrender only swelled his ego; a small, triumphant grin played on his lips as he felt you tremble beneath him.
slowly, he trailed his lips downward, his tongue tracing a wet path over your collarbone until he reached your breasts. he let out a low moan of approval, his mouth closing over one peak. he began biting and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, teasing the sensitive tips until you were arching your back, begging for more.
while his mouth worked tirelessly on one breast, his other hand moved to knead the soft, plush flesh of the other. he squeezed and molded you, his palm hot against your skin, while he inhaled deeply. the scent of your soap mixed with the natural, musky fragrance of your aroused body, an intoxicating blend that drove him toward a breaking point.
he was focused, methodical, and utterly relentless. with a sudden, deliberate flick of his tongue, he grazed his teeth across your nipple, biting just hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure shooting straight to your core. you let out a sharp, strangled gasp, your hips bucking instinctively against the mattress.
he didn't stop there. sehun moved with a possessive hunger, ensuring there was no inch of your body left untouched. his hands and lips wandered everywhere—the dip of your waist, the sensitive curve of your inner thighs, the soft skin of your belly—mapping every curve and crevice as if he were memorizing you. every touch was a claim, every kiss a promise that he intended to devour every part of you until you were completely spent.
finally, he descended to the place where you needed him most, the epicenter of your desperation. his palms burned against the cool air of the room as they pressed firmly against your thighs, forcing your legs wide. he paused for a heartbeat, taking in the sight of your core; flushed, swollen, and glistening with the evidence of your arousal.
the sight of your juices leaking, dripping onto the sheets, forced a heavy, ragged sigh from his lungs. he looked completely undone, fully submitting to the hunger you stirred in him. it was as if he had reached a new level of arousal, a fever pitch that made his eyes darken with a predatory intensity.
without another word, he latched onto you. his tongue swirled with expert precision around the bundle of nerves, teasing your clit with rhythmic, swirling motions. your back arched violently off the bed, your chest heaving as you fought for air. your hands flew to his hair, fingers gripping tightly and pulling slightly, desperate to ground yourself in the pleasure.
sehun was a master, pulling broken, high-pitched moans from your throat effortlessly. then, with a sudden shift in intensity, he plunged his tongue deep inside you, forcing you to grip the bedsheets until your knuckles turned white. he began to flick his tongue with a relentless, blurring speed, driving you toward the edge.
your vision started to blur, white spots dancing before your eyes as your head grew hazy. He was utterly pussy drunk, consumed by the taste and scent of you, jamming his tongue into you with a desperate, starving energy. he couldn't get enough, he wanted to swallow every drop of you.
"you're so sweet..." he murmured against your skin, his voice low, vibrating rumble that echoed through your entire body, sending a final, violent wave of shivers crashing through you just as the first peak of pleasure began to shatter.
the orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, a violent, crashing explosion of pleasure that ripped through your entire body and left you completely undone. your muscles spasmed, your vision flickering as you plummeted from the peak into a state of raw, shivering vulnerability.
"fuck—please," you moaned, the words barely a whisper, broken and desperate. your feet dug deep into the mattress, toes curling as you tried to anchor yourself while the aftershocks continued to ripple through your core. you were wide open, breathless, and utterly at his mercy.
but sehun wasn't finished. he didn't pull away; instead, he leaned further in, determined to drink every last drop of your release. he continued to lap at you, his tongue sweeping over your hypersensitive skin to ride out the high with you.
as he finally pulled back, his chin was slick and glistening with your juices, a mark of his absolute consumption of you. he looked up at you with a dark, heavy-lidded gaze, his breathing just as ragged as yours. your chest heaved heavily, your heart hammering against your ribs, as you lay there trembling.
sehun hovered over you, his weight supported by his arms as he gazed down at your flushed, ruined state. his eyes were dark with a mixture of triumph and affection. "how was it?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
he was questioning the doubt you'd felt earlier—the fear of inadequacy that had kept you in the shower for forty minutes and he had systematically shattered it.
words refused to leave your mouth; you were completely speechless, your mind a hazy fog of pleasure. your eyes were heavy-lidded, barely able to focus on the man above you. "it felt so good..." you finally muttered, your voice a broken thread of a sound that grazed his ear.
the praise acted like fuel to his ego. a smug, satisfied smile played on his lips, his chest swelling with the knowledge that he had pushed you to the brink. your hands, still trembling, reached out toward the buttons of his silk pajamas, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
he didn't even let you finish the first button. with a sudden, impatient movement, he shrugged the silk off his body, casting it aside in one fluid motion. in the same breath, he freed himself from his slacks, stripping away the last barriers between you. your eyes were fixated on him, wide and hungry, taking in every inch of his hard, lean physique and the evidence of his own towering arousal.
you were so mesmerized that you didn't realize sehun was watching you back, observing the way you looked at him with such raw desire. "look at you," he scoffed with a soft, teasing smile, his voice dripping with amusement at your blatant hunger.
blushing furiously, you quickly looked away, unable to maintain eye contact under his intense scrutiny. you began mumbling something incoherent, your face heating up as you tried to hide your embarrassment.
while you were distracted by your own shyness, sehun leaned down and lightly grazed the tip of his rigid length against your entrance. the sudden, hot contact made you jolt, a small gasp escaping you. "hey—!"
sehun only chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating in his chest. "look at me, okay?" he commanded softly. you nodded, your eyes meeting his, wide and searching.
"i'll be gentle, but it might hurt a little," he murmured against your ear, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. the heat radiating off his body was overwhelming. as you looked down, the sheer size of him made you brace yourself; you knew you were in for something intense.
he began to enter you inch by inch, devastatingly slow. each fraction of an inch felt like a conquest, the stretch so intense it made you see stars despite everything he had done to prepare you, the previous penetration hadn't been enough to make taking him easy. you clenched around him instinctively, your breath hitching.
"wait—don't move!" you gasped, your voice strained.
he paused, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as he looked at you. "i'm not even halfway in," he whispered, his voice a mix of patience and hunger. "just relax for me... don't tense up, baby."
your mouth dropped open at the realization. he wasn't even fully inside you, yet you already felt completely filled, stretched to your limit. you let out a long, shaky exhale, forcing your muscles to soften and trying to make room for all of him.
sehun didn't stop until there was no more space left between you, finally settling in and burying himself to the hilt. the sensation was overwhelming; you breathed heavily, your lungs struggling to keep up as you felt the delicious, agonizing stretch of him filling every single corner of your core.
for a moment, the pleasure was all-consuming, but as he pushed that final, deep inch home, a sharp surge of pain spiked through you. you gasped, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of the stretch hit its limit.
as the initial shock subsided, your gaze drifted down. there, contrasting against the sheets and the skin of your thighs, you spotted a small amount of blood escaping from where you were joined. The sight sent a jolt of panic through you.
your eyes snapped back to his, wide and clouded with worry, your breath coming in short, shallow hitches. you looked at him with a silent, frightened question, wondering if you had been pushed too far.
sehun followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the crimson staining the sheets. the smug, dominant expression he’d worn moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by a look of intense concern. he froze, his entire body locking up as he processed the sight.
"you're doing so great..." he breathed, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a mixture of worry and raw adoration.
he didn't pull out immediately knowing that a sudden retreat might only cause more pain but he shifted his weight to alleviate the pressure, his forehead resting against yours.
his breathing was ragged, his heart hammering against your chest in a frantic rhythm as he looked into your worried eyes. he waited for you to settle, his fingers gently weaving through your hair to soothe you.
"do you want me to move?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft, tender tone. you gave a weak, trembling nod, trying to come down from the violent high of overstimulation jolting through your veins.
beneath you, sehun was suffering. his hands were clenched into tight fists, his knuckles white; being buried deep inside you without the ability to move was making him excruciatingly sensitive. every pulse of your warmth was like a drug, and he had to fight every instinct to simply lose control and rush into you. you were so warm, so tight, and you felt absolutely heavenly.
slowly, he began to move. he started with shallow, hesitant thrusts, coaxing soft, needy moans from your lips. a low groan escaped him, his fingers gripping your waist with a bruising intensity. sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down as the friction built.
"oh god, you feel so good—," he whined in your ear, the sound primal and desperate. your hands wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him closer as the tension reached a breaking point.
he couldn't resist himself anymore. with a sudden, guttural sound, he pulled out almost entirely leaving you to frown at the sudden, cold emptiness—before he rammed his length back inside with a forceful, punishing depth. the impact knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you gasping at the new, relentless pace.
you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sheer intensity of the sensation, but sehun stopped abruptly. "look at me," he commanded, his voice hard and authoritative. "If you don't, I'll stop."
you had no choice but to obey. you snapped your eyes open, locking your gaze with his. he wanted to see every flicker of pleasure and pain on your face; he wanted to witness exactly how he was breaking you.
with your eyes fixed on his, sehun took you in with a greedy stare, ruthlessly ramming into you, claiming every inch of your body over and over again.
the air in the room had grown thick and heavy, saturated with the primal scent of musk, sweat, and an overwhelming amount of love. the only sound filling the space was the wet, rhythmic slap of skin hitting skin—a lewd, intimate collision that echoed the frantic beating of your hearts.
sehun’s pace shifted from ruthless to desperate, his movements becoming a blur of friction and heat as he drove himself into you with a singular, hungry focus.
you screamed his name, the sound raw, your voice echoing against the walls as the bed creaked and groaned under the violence of his passion. each thrust was deeper than the last, hitting your cervix and sending shocks of electricity shooting up your spine.
sehun let out a low, jagged groan, his muscles corded and straining as he felt your walls begin to spasm. the way you were clenching around him; tight, hot, and desperate made it obvious that you were right on the edge.
then, it happened. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a violent surge of pleasure that robbed you of your breath and left you sobbing for air. your entire body shuddered, your back arching off the mattress as the peak ripped through you, tears escaped your eyes at the excruciating overstimulation. your juices flooded your core, leaving both his thighs and your stomach damp and glistening.
but sehun didn't stop instead of pulling back, he rode out your orgasm with a frenetic intensity, grinding his hips in faster, chasing his own high. he wanted to feel every single throb of your climax; he wanted to be consumed by you. your legs were shaking uncontrollably, the overstimulation turning your nerves into live wires, but he held you pinned, refusing to let go until he reached his own breaking point.
with a final, guttural groan, sehun buried himself to the hilt one last time. he slammed, pinning you against the bed as he emptied himself deep inside you. you could feel the hot, thick surge of his semen filling you.
in your haze of pleasure, you didn't let go instead, you milked him, your internal muscles clenching and pulsing in endless, rhythmic waves that drew every last drop from him. your pussy throbbed violently around his length, refusing to let him go even as the intensity began to level off.
for a long time, neither of you moved. you remained locked together, chests heaving in unison, the only sound the ragged, desperate gasps for air. sehun collapsed against you, his weight a comforting pressure, his face buried in the crook of your neck as you both drifted in the afterglow of a session that had pushed you both to the absolute limit.
junmyeon, who slips your ring off your finger and fiddles with it while you're talking to a friend.
you watch, amused, as he tries it on every finger, holds it up to the light like he's checking its quality, and then makes a big show of putting it back on you.
“do you want one like this?” you ask after you cut the call. “you liked the design?”
“just checking the size. you know, for when i get you a ring?”
junmyeon laughs at the shocked look on your face. “what, you thought i wasn't going to marry you some day?”
you shake your head, lost for words. “you can't just—you're not supposed to be...so...casual about it.”
junmyeon takes your hand in his, thumb tracing your ring. “sweetheart, let me assure you, my love for you is nothing but casual. and there's no way i'm going to propose to you in pajamas. i'd like to think i'm a little classier than that.”
you laugh at that, feeling a little giddy when he kisses the back of your hand like the gentleman that he is.
“so, what do you like more? platinum? or diamonds?”
you pretend to think. “well...you.”
now it's junmyeon's turn to blush. “you can't just say things like that,” he groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. “that's my thing.”
