Boyfriend! Seungmin who is actually so clingy when it comes to you.
He can’t fall asleep without you in his arms. “No, baby where are you going?” his arm locked more firmly around your middle, pulling you closer against his chest.
Whenever the two of you are out his arm is basically your belt. His arm is always casually wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. On the rare occasion that it isn’t his hand is definitely holding yours.
He adores peppering you in kisses. From the tips of your fingers to the top of your head. He lives to press tender, delicate kisses across your skin.
At the end of the day all he wants to do is melt into your arms. In your embrace is easily Seungmin’s favorite place to be. He loves nothing more than the feeling of your arms circling around his body. If you play with his hair/gently scratch your nails against his scalp he thinks he’s in heaven.
He would spray your perfume in his clothes, so that he could smell you throughout the day when he was unable to be with you.
Has a stuffed animal named after you, so on nights that you’re apart he can hold it and pretend that it’s you.
Never fails to rush home after work, so that he can finally be with you. Always greets you with the tightest hug, murmuring about how he missed you while pressing the most devastating sweet kiss to your lips.
Can get teased for acting like a lovesick puppy around you, but he doesn’t even care. Because he's simply so deeply, irrevocably in love with you that he just always wants to be close to you. To cherish you like you deserve.
random smut scenarios with xdiz involving their hands aka how they like using their hands to please you :p
cw: bullet point style, fingering, finger sucking, hand kink in general, foreplay, mention of pinv, mention of oral sex, not proofread
nsfw under the cut !!
gunil
- gunils hands are sooo underappreciated
- tough, calloused palms from years of working out and playing the drums 🤤
- you love it when he uses them to show how strong he is !
- gripping your jaw to make you look him in the eye as he fucks you into the mattress slowly <3
- tries to be gentle but can’t help leaving marks sometimes
jungsu
- hhhngggggg jgnsuuuu
- his hands are so soft so gentle
- they’re large too and he can hold both of your wrists in one grip
- which comes in handy when he’s holding your arms up above your head as he pounds you !!
- his hands always leave large, reddish prints all over your ass and hips <3
gaon
- small pretty hands
- but also. veins
- likes it when you trace your fingers along the prominent veins on his hands
- underappreciated with his fingers
- spreads your pussy open when he’s eating you out
- loves to smack your wet cunt and hear the nasty noises it makes !
ode
- alright.
- #1 hand kink offender of the group
- he’s so obvious about it it’s funny
- always lends you a hand, or rather, his fingers
- lets u suck on them while he works at a desk!! your cute little head laid in his lap while he types away with his left hand and shoves two fingers down your throat with his right until you’re gagging <3
junhan
- guitarist fingers. yeah
- junhan knows exactly what he’s doing whenever he gets his hands covered in juice or sauce or something and he licks it off. really slowly. with eye contact.
- his fingers are pure art
- you make sure to tell him that when he gropes every inch of you when you’re both hot and bothered
- whenever he’s done fingering you he always makes sure to clean up by licking his fingers clean ! he’s a neat boy and you make sure he knows by showering him in praises
jooyeon
- gorgeous perfect hands !!
- one time he wasn’t feeling like sex
- so you proposed an unconventional alternative
- you grind your bare cunt up and down his laid out hand, feeling every muscle and vein
- you let out little sighs, peaking joo’s interest and causing him to press his hand up against you, the friction making you gasp a bit
- jooyeon didn’t expect it to feel so…erotic
- begs to finger you afterwards literally anything he just wants you to make those noises for him again
author’s note: i love hands. i love xdiz. hope you enjoyed my coke rant
can you do how the xdiz members would react if you did the current boyfriend trend on them?
Xdinary Heroes headcannons !
Xdinary Heroes x Reader
The 'current boyfriend' trend
Including: Goo Gunil. Kim Jungsu. Kwak Jiseok. Oh Seungmin. Han Hyeungjun. Lee Jooyeon.
Cw: he doesn't know that it's a trend. Fluff!! Jealousy?
Wc: 2.5k
(F/n) friend's name
"Oh hey F/n," you placed your phone to your ear. Making sure the back of your phone was facing him so he couldn't see the screen of your phone and call you out for lying.
You were pretending to be on the phone with a friend of yours. He didn't have much of a reaction, it seemed as if he was busy doomscrolling on his own phone. Eyes blinking every ten seconds or so.
You were extremely bored, and melting. It was summer, and insanely hot. Boredom mixed with sweat made you oh so uncomfortable. You had to take your mind off of this sticky, gross feeling that accompanied the summer's heat.
"Yeah sure." You were scrolling on TikTok for the past.. forever. Probably up to twenty hours of screen time led you to the prank you were trying to play on him right now. After seeing a video of this 'current boyfriend' prank, you decided to try it out for fun.
"Oh, no. I'm not doing much." You side eyed him every few seconds. He seemed to register that you were on a call with F/n (you weren't). You wondered if he was going to register the next words.
"Yeah, I'm just chilling around with my current boyfriend."
ـــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــﮩ٨ــــــــــﮩ٨ـ
Gunil:
His head immediately snapped towards you. You tried your best to stifle in your laughter, attempting to shake it off as something casual. Like it was just a regular Sunday.
The entire time you were on this 'phone call' his body instinctively moved to land in front of you. You looked at him confused. "Hold on, I'll call you back." Clicking on your screen, pretending to hang up. You raised an eyebrow at him, who was practically kneeling at your feet.
"Hey..." he started. A hint of worry trailed at the back of his voice. You giggled at his antics. "Hi?" Feigning innocence. The way he was looking at you was adorable. Eyes wide and pout beginning to form almost instinctively.
"So.." he trailed off again. ".. Who was that?"
You almost burst out laughing.He was simply, adorable.
"F/n." You simply stated their name, refusing to add anything more. Placing both of his hands on your knees. He rubs up and down in a soothing manner. He was worried that he had done something wrong.
"Uhhh... current boyfriend?" He still had a dopey smile on his face. Though it was faltering. He was looking up at you in almost reassurance. 'Are we okay?' Was what he was trying to communicate to you.
"Yeah..?" You moved your own hand to the top of his head. Smoothing his hair back. The both of you stayed silent for a while.
This wasn't what you thought his reaction would be like, but you didn't expect much less from him.
"Is.. everything okay?" Above all, Gunil values communication. The second he senses something wrong in the air. He's quick to move and find the problem. What's funny was that there was no problem. This was just a prank that his silly partner wanted to do for fun.
"Everything's okay. What's wrong?" You asked. Hand still playing with his hair. Not to mention, he was still on his knees. He looked at you in confusion.
"You called me your current boyfriend.." he looked off to the side, silently cursing that title under his breath, before returning his gaze to you. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
This was when you couldn't control yourself. You simply felt too bad. To be exploiting his sweet nature like this, oh, how could you! A small giggle escaped your throat.
You instantly cut yourself off when you saw how serious he looked. Eyebrows furrowed and lips slowly starting to lift up. Though, it was just a visceral reaction to seeing your smile.
"I'm so sorry, baby, it was meant to be a prank." You held his face on each side of your palms. Leaning forward and bumping your forehead with his. A sign as to not take it to heart.
He groaned in frustration. Before immediately sighing in relief. "You scared me really bad." He clutched his chest where his heart was. "I literally would've gotten a heart attack." He flopped himself down to the floor. Gripping your hand on his head and bringing you down with him.
You started your laughter once again. Landing yourself on his chest. Engulfing you between his arms. The both of you smiling together on the floor.
"I am your current boyfriend." He rubs your shoulder up and down.
"And your next, and your last."
-ˋˏ┈┈┈┈
Jungsu:
"What!?" His neck snapped to face you so fast that you could practically hear his joint pop. "What!?" He repeated once again. Eyebrows raised so high it might as well reach his hairline. He was smiling, but, there was nothing funny about this situation...
He rushes to your side. Nearly smacking his knee on the corner of the coffee table. "What!?" He yells once again. You try to shove your hand between the both of you. As to signal that you were busy on the phone right now.
"Oh, nononononono." He waves your hand away. Wagging his finger in front of you. "Hang up, right neow." He shoves his face to your shoulder. Forcing you to set your phone down. You laugh at the feeling of his hair tickling your bare collarbone.
"Current," he emphasises the word with another push of his head. "Boyfriend!???" He practically yells.
"Current boyfriend!??" He had a toothy smile on his face. Don't be fooled though, he was so crashing out. His head was basically twitching to the side. He scrambled up on his feet in a split second.
"So I'm your current boyfriend, huh??" He circles back and forth to where he was standing. "Your boyfriend, but not forever??" He says. Cocking his head to the side. Sarcasm rising in his voice.
He launches himself on top of you.
"What do you mean current boyfriend??" He wraps his arms around your waist. Causing you to squirm at the way his fingers grazed your side.
"It's just a prank!" You said between laughs, you didn't even register when his tickling started. You fell on your back. He placed his head on your stomach.
"No!" He laughed along with you. "I'll let you go if you take it back!" He continues his tickles on your side.
"Okay okay! I take it back." You squealed, moving his hands. Grabbing his face and leaning down to plant a kiss on his lips.
"Exactly." He moved up, now resting his chin on your chest in content. "I'm your what?" He brought a hand up to cup his ear.
"You're my boyfriend." You giggled. "My beautiful, sweet, boyfriend."
"That's right." He nodded in approval. "Current boyfriend my ass." He rolled his eyes.
"Well, technically, since you're currently my boyfriend, that does make you my current boyfriend --"
"Shhhhh!!"
-ˋˏ┈┈┈┈
Gaon:
This sly motherfucker knows it's a prank the second those words escape your mouth. Because he does stupid shit like this to you too. By god, he loves messing with you.
He paused, short-circuiting for a minute. Wanting to play along with you. Game recognises game. If you wanted to play like that, then fine.
Actually, the more he thinks about it. It would really suck if he was just a current boyfriend. he shakes his mind off of it. If he thinks about it, he gets way too sad.
It bothers him, super bothered.
"Yep!" He yells out, believing that you were still on an actual phone call. Not even looking away from his own. Unsure how else to respond. "Current boyfriend." He sneered.
"Boyfriend, but only for now!"
You throw a pillow at his chest. Whispering to him to be quiet because you're on the phone. He practically whines at that.
"Fine," He throws himself down on the couch. "I guess F/n doesn't want to talk to Y/n's current boyfriend then." He whips his head away from you, folding his arms across his chest like a toddler.
You chuckled a bit. Before returning to your call. Finding amusement in how he was reacting.
He scoffs. A very, very loud scoff. Flopping back onto the couch.
"I guess Y/n doesn't want to comfort their current boyfriend then."
And when that didn't work, he gasps. Clutching his chest and falling back down on the couch. He grumbles to himself the entire time you're 'on the phone.'
"Current boyfriend. Currentcurrentcurrent curr--" He mutters to himself as if he was placing a curse on you.
You toss your phone to the side.
"Are you like, crashing out." You look at him blankly.
"No!" He shakes his head, trying to appear normal about the situation. "Your current boyfriend does not crash out." He rolls his eyes. "Maybe your next boyfriend will." He mumbles.
You ruffle his hair, finding his reaction extremely funny. You place a kiss on his cheek. He smiles. Lighting up immediately.
"Such a sweet kiss." He nods. "A sweet kiss from my sweetest current partner."
You ruffle his hair again, aggressively.
"Okay." You raise your hands up. "I apologise. You're my boyfriend." You smile wide once again.
"That's more like it." He relaxes his shoulders. Leaning into your hold.
"Your current boyfriend forgives you. But he will keep an eye on you."
-ˋˏ┈┈┈┈
O.de:
ARMY CRAWLS his ass from his side of the couch to yours.
"Hey." He whispers. Trying to get your attention. You only give him a quick look from the side of your eye.
"Hey." He whispers once again. Poking your thigh. You look down at him. He was like a worm. On his stomach and looking up at you through his eyelashes. His upper half only being supported by his elbows.
You only place a hand on his head, patting up and down before continuing your conversation. He might as well be growling by now.
"Heyyy." He whispers loudly. Poking on your thigh a bunch more. When he realised that you weren't going to seperate from that phone any time soon. He moves his arms straight to his side. Squishing his cheek onto the cushion, pouting his lower lip out as his stares off into nothing.
You wanted to laugh so badly.
You instead sighed softly, placing your phone elsewhere. His head looks up at you immediately. You stared back at him, smiling sweetly, too sweetly. In faux innocence. "Yes?"
"What was that?" He was still whispering. Moving up to rest his cheek on your thigh this time. His question not from malice, or offence. But straight up confusion. Nothing else behind those eyes, just confusion.
"What was what?" You dropped your voice to a whisper as well.
He blinked. "Current boyfriend." He states plainly.
You shifted. Worried that he was genuinely bothered by your antics and that you may have taken it too far.
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Staying quiet. You could practically hear the gears in his brain whir.
"You don't mean that."
You bit your lip, trying to contain a laugh. Only he could see right through you.
"A-ha!" He booted up, pointing at you with his index finger. "You don't mean that!"
"Mean what??" You placed a hand in front of your mouth. Hiding your laughter.
"That I'm your current boyfriend!" He smiles proudly. "I'm your boyfriend. Not your current boyfriend. Because I'm your boyfriend right now, and forever." He smiles unabashedly. Both hands on his hips as if he had made an amazing discovery.
"So you're just going to stay as my boyfriend then? Nothing more?" You teased, a sly grin forming on your face.
He blinked.
"Well, that's what you think."
-ˋˏ┈┈┈┈
Junhan:
He looks at you.
And stares.
He waits for you to finish your conversation. Listening intently to what you have to say to insinuate that you were joking. Only to be met with you moving the topic as to when you and F/n were going to meet yet again.
You frown, before ultimately concluding your call when you noticed his lack of reaction. You set your phone on your lap. Opening TikTok yet again as you were about to accept your loss.
Before he slides right next to you. Placing an arm behind you on the couch.
"Current boyfriend?" He asks -- states-- as he stares at you intently. You nodded under his gaze. "What's up?" You asked, trying your best to sound innocent and none the wiser.
"Nothing.. just.." he shrugs. Trying to come off as unbothered. "What did you mean by current boyfriend?" He was not unbothered. He was extremely bothered.
As bothered as he could be.
How dare you assume that your relationship with him was just something that would happen in passing? Tch, ridiculous.
He didn't have to think for too long before concluding that he absolutely hated that title. 'Current' boyfriend. Ugh.
He grimaces at the possibility that you might find someone else, that he was just yours for now. And that you might spend your life with some other random.
"I'm your boyfriend." He states. Pausing once again, he was thinking too much. Very deeply. He didn't like that statement in the slightest.
"And I'll be your husband sometime soon." He mutters. Adverting his eyes to the long forgotten TV screen. The corner of his lips
You stare at him with wide eyes. Heart beating a mile a minute.
"What do you mean??"
He glances at you through the side of his eyes. "Oh nothing." A very, quaint smirk on his face.
"Just making sure I don't stay as a current boyfriend."
-ˋˏ┈┈┈┈
Jooyeon:
He takes this as a challenge. A teasing challenge.
He rushes to your side, leaning down to whisper into the phone. "Because we're getting married." He smiles all wide.
You smack him on his head trying to stifle your smile of disbelief. A laugh resulting out of his throat at the action. "What?" He asks as if that statement didn't mean anything.
"We aren't getting married, what do you mean??" You asked frantically. Trying to calm your beating chest.
"I mean, you were the one that said current boyfriend." He whines. As if he were a child that was trying to defend himself from his mother's scoldings. "it's your fault." He pouted.
"Well.." you trailed off. Truthfully, if it wasn't a prank. What would be the context behind that sentence?
"Exactly." He says matter of factly. "There's no way we'll be breaking up."
Pang! A nice, clean hit to your heart.
"You aren't getting another boyfriend any time soon." He ponders, a hand on his chin like he was debating a philosophical question. Another hit to your heart. You could feel it beating up faster. Your face heating up.
"Sooo...." he trails off. Still pretending to think deeply.
In a split second, he raises himself, planting your sitting form between his legs. He was practically straddling you, knees on each side of your thighs. His hands on your shoulders.
"No other explanation than to marry you!" He exclaims excitedly.
You blinked rapidly, looking side to side in an attempt to hide your nervous and trembling face.
"Make me be your husband rather than a current boyfriend." He was giggling. Right at your face. Gaining pride at the way you turned into mush just by his words.
you’re at your classmates’ place to work on a group project, but when the power suddenly goes out, you and the campus’ heartthrob start getting bored, cold and a lot more cozy
contains: college au, slice of life, sub!reader, protected sex, overstimulation (f!rec), oral sex (f!rec), squirting, praise kink, hickeys (f!rec), car sex, pet names, light choking, alcohol consumption, hook-ups, jealousy; they both try to stay away from each other and fail
One thing you truly dislike about your professor is that he refuses to let students choose their own partners for group projects. If he did, you wouldn’t be here right now - at Seungmin’s place, practically begging for a crumb of his attention.
“Can you focus for just a moment, please?” You press fingers to your temples, exhaustion already creeping in even though you’ve been working for barely twenty minutes.
The blank word document glares at you as the relentless clicking of Seungmin’s thumbs on his phone fills the room.
“Yea… I’m listening,” he murmurs, tossing you a quick glance that proves he isn’t listening.
“To what? We haven’t even started discussing anything yet.”
“Okay, okay.” he locks his phone and puts it on the table with overplayed commitment. “I’m all yours, babe.”
“Don’t call me that.” You roll your eyes and shuffle through your notes. “Let’s divide everything into parts. You work on one, I work on another. That way it will be quicker and easier for both of us.
“Sounds good.”
He drums his fingers against the table while you organise the notes, the rhythm quietly fraying your patience as you do so. You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, and heat blooms on your cheeks before you can stop it. You’re sitting closer than you realised.
You slide a stack of papers toward him. “This is for you.”
He immediately sighs dramatically, staring down at the workload like he’s just been handed a death sentence. He opens his laptop only to look away from the screen when his phone buzzes again.
The screen lights up with another notification. Another message. Then, almost instantly after - one more.
You know it’s rude. It’s none of your business. However, curiosity gets the better of you. You slightly shift, just enough to get a glimpse of what keeps stealing his attention. You catch only a flash of a red heart emoji, but the name disappears before you can read it.
Hardly surprising. Seungmin’s reputation around campus is a popular topic of discussion, making it loud and clear that girls take up most of his time and interests.
He types a reply, lips quirking as he reads whatever comes back. A smirk forms on his face, and you force yourself to look away when his brows raise at you. The look lasted a second, but it was enough for you to notice there’s a different glow in his eyes.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, shoving his phone in the pocket of his sweats.
Great. Looks like you’re working on this project by yourself.
As his tall figure slips around the corner your mind strays against your will - to all the stories girls whispered about him, and all the stories your friends have told you about him. Some conspiratorial, some controversial, some boasting, some… pure filth. None of them left an impression on you then. But now, sitting here, watching the reality of his habits unfold right in front of you… it’s impossible not to wonder just how much of it is true.
After he returns, the question jumps out of your mouth on its own.
“Who are you texting?”
“A chick,” he replies, right as the phone buzzes again.
“Of course.” You nod, once and slow.
He sinks back into his seat and opens the chat. Whatever he sees makes his lips curl into a grin, sharper and playful. Then, without saying anything, he angles the screen toward you.
Your eyes widen - you bring a hand to cover them, but it’s too late. You saw everything of the explicit picture.
“Jesus, Seungmin!” You scowl. “I didn’t ask.”
He laughs amused. “You asked who I’m texting literally a second ago.”
“I was asking about her name not her boobs.”
“Aren’t you a prude,” he snickers, placing his phone on the table before leaning forward casually.
“I’m not a prude for simply not being interested in random strangers’ body parts.”
You drag the cursor on the computer screen, but you don’t even know what exactly you are searching for. The air around you is tightening and it’s distracting. Your mind fogs up from sudden, unwelcomed questions.
Did he go to the bathroom to take a dick pic?
“When was the last time you saw some?” His voice dips a notch with suspicion. “In real life, sweetheart. Was it too long ago?”
Before you can scold him, the apartment suddenly plunges into sudden darkness. The lights go off.
“Shit, no way.” he cusses, looking around. “The power’s out.”
Honestly… good timing.
He grabs his phone to switch on the flashlight.
“It’s getting dark already,” you murmur, stepping to the window.
Outside, snow drifts down in lazy spirals, thickening the afternoon. In half an hour or so the white view will turn pitch black. By the looks of it, the lights are out in the whole area. Every house, every apartment sits dark and hollow - there are no flickering lamps, no warm squares of lights.
“Wait, hold on!” His voice echoes from the small kitchen. “Found one! I think it’s my roommate’s.”
He reappears with a candle and sets it on the coffee table to light it. A small flame blossoms, trembling.
The two of you settle on the couch as the warm glow spreads across your scattered notes. It’s quiet, too quiet almost; the shift in the setting suddenly makes it too… unusual, weirdly too intimate for a school project.
You thought about going home, but your roommates have two more hours of classes. The thought of sitting alone in your dark apartment with no internet only makes you sink deeper into the couch.
At least here you have Seungmin. Strangely, this feels like the better choice.
Without the AC, it doesn’t take long for the temperature to drop. You tuck your legs tight against your chest, wrapped in a blanket.
Seungmin drops his notebook onto the table with a sigh. Then, he shifts, adjusting his own blanket that’s draped over his shoulders; his black hoodie is pulled over his dark hair.
“Do you want another blanket?” He asks.
“No, thanks. I’m good for now.”
The silence folds over you again, and as a minute goes by, you find yourself thinking back to his earlier question, how he tossed it so casually.
As though he can sense what’s circling your mind, Seungmin speaks up from the opposite corner of the couch.
“Soo…” his voice lowers, intrigued. “When was the last time you hooked up with someone?”
You lift your gaze slowly to glare at him. “Why don’t we talk about the project instead?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a downer,” he whines softly. “That’s all we’ve done for the past hour and a half. Let’s give our brains a well deserved break.”
He’s right, your mind does start to feel a bit bleary. But does every conversation with him have to revolve around sex?
“Two weeks ago?” He guesses, eyebrows lifted. When your expression stays still, he frowns. “A month? No? Wow, more than a month? Two months?”
“Yes,” you snap. “It’s been over two months. Can you stop overreacting now?”
“Damn… That’s tough.”
“For you,” you point out, shrinking deeper into the blanket, like it’s going to prevent him from seeing your self-consciousness.
If you just take a second to glance his direction, you’d see that he’s watching you with an expression that’s not simply teasing. Truthfully, it’s something else entirely.
“I’m just surprised, because you’re hot.”
Your heart skips a beat as you look up like you’ve just been struck by a lightning. You search for any small hints that may reveal if he’s just messing with you. But you only see the faint glow catching on the curve of his jaw, softening his features in unfamiliar ways.
“What about you?” you ask to deflect.
He huffs out a breath, not answering.
“When was the last time you hooked up with someone?” you add, tilting your head.
His eyes dart toward the ceiling. “This morning?”
You almost choke on air. “Are you joking?”
He chuckles, curling one finger against the bridge of his nose. “Kidding. Uhm… two days ago.”
You stare at him, and he stares back. Then, he shifts, blanket slipping from his shoulders.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he questions, half-defensive, half-amused.
“You judged me for my two months.” you mutter. If he finds out it’s been actually longer than that… “Meanwhile, you literally—”
“C’mon, two months?” his eyes widen theatrically. “Are you on a cleanse or something?”
“Stop!” You throw a crumpled note at him; it quickly bounces off his knee.
“Sex is like cardio, you know,” he grins, slow and maddeningly charming. “Endorphins and all.”
“I’m sticking to yoga for now.”
“I could teach you different forms of flexibility too,” he says, leaning back with a deeper smirk.
You groan quietly, unable to ease your heartbeat. “We’re never going to finish our project.”
“We can’t finish it until the power comes back, anyway. Might as well have fun.”
The room goes quiet again as you hold your breath, attempting to feign calmness. “Fun doesn’t always require flirting.”
“What does flirting mean to you?” he asks, smirk fading just a little; making it seem like he’s genuinely interested in hearing the answer.
Your lips part, but then close again as you finally keep your eyes on him for longer than two seconds. “Is this a serious question?”
He nods, looking almost thoughtful. “Yeah.”
Your gaze flickers briefly to his lap where his thumb rubs along his knuckles.
“Flirting is… “ The words hover on your tongue as you keep your eyes lowered. “When you want to feel close to someone… close enough to say anything that crosses your mind without worrying what they might think of you.”
A small crease appears between Seungmin’s brows before it relaxes. “Wow. You’re such a bookworm.”
“You know what I mean,” you murmur, fighting back a grin as you catch the curve of his mouth.
Seungmin shifts forward a little, shoulders loosening as his eyes stay fixed on you. Something in his still attention makes your pulse stutter.
“No, I do,” he speaks quieter, “I do.”
A faint hitch in your breath betrays you once his warmth is suddenly even closer.
For the first time since you got here you and him lock eyes - in that steady, thrilling way; where you’re trying to figure out if the other person could be thinking the same thing as you.
Seungmin is surprised. He really is. You have sex appeal that’s impossible to not spark a guy’s interest; you also have intriguing eyes - somehow coy and self-assured at the same time.
Maybe you haven’t met the right one to handle you.
Quiet, but certain, he slips a hand beneath your blanket, searching until his fingertips find the bare skin of your ankle; the touch is feather light, electrifying your nerves.
“Seungmin…” you utter, surprised at how your voice slips so breathy.
He lifts his eyes, the candlelight catching them just right. “I like the way you say my name.”
His hands attach to your hips, removing the blanket away from your legs; but even before that gravity was already pulling you toward him. They guide you without hurrying as you swing a leng over him to settle into his lap.
The realisation of what you’re about to do sweeps through you the moment you’re face to face, close enough to exchange breaths. You’re slipping into trouble… but also into a want that’s been building steadily - maybe from the second you walked into his apartment today. Or perhaps it began before that… the day you first saw him in the lecture hall.
“I can help you out, sweetheart,” he murmurs, soft and alluring, leaning in with the assistance of your fingers that move on the sides of his neck. “I can make you feel good in ways no one ever has.”
The next thing you realise is that you don’t mind doing this at all.
Seungmin’s discreet smirk disappears the second your mouths crash against one another.
You can’t tell who went for it first; all you could register is how consuming the thrill is. The taste he brings you when he swiftly pushes his tongue. The experienced, but not overwhelming, dance of his lips leading yours. The fact there’s no build up - the rhythm is quick and luscious from the start and it only keeps magnifying.
A small gasp for air escapes you the second your lips detach only to meet again immediately after.
At the same time, Seungmin’s touch tightens, precisely moving you forward, again and again. The warm friction makes both of you groan quietly into each other’s mouths.
You hold onto his shoulders, body rocking slowly, following the pace his hands create.
Even faster heat ripples through you once your jeans get unbuttoned, your shirt - tossed away. Your nerves go wild the more of your skin is exposed, but the way Seungmin’s eyes darken from lust as he leans into your neck, melts all of your worries. Instead, kiss by kiss, they’re replaced by a new wave of adrenaline.
With a steady grip on your bare waist, he takes his time in exploring the taste of your skin; licking and sucking until there’s a scarlet mark blooming on the sensitive surface below your ear. His erection throbs demandingly every time you moan softly.
Your sweet sounds in addition to your steady grinding turns him more and more eager to already move his mouth in other places of your body.
“Damn,” he breathes out, slowly looking up at you, “you already made me so hard, pretty. What am I gonna do?” His lips twitch teasingly as he unclips your bra with a single, quick motion.
The lace falls to the ground.
Seungmin’s gaze takes in the view as the flickering candle throws a warm glow over your beautiful breasts, his hands travel up your sides right away, unable to resist the touch.
You feel vulnerable but more than that - empowered by the hunger in his expression.
His palms squeeze, fingertips praising silently as they sink into your tender flesh; gently yet insistently like they’re unable to let go.
“You’re so sexy,” he mutters, voice breathy and tense. He leans forward, letting his tongue get another taste of your neckline through a long, warm stripe. “I can only imagine how many of your friends secretly fantasise of you at night.”
Your body temperature rises higher, your head falls back. The way he circles your nipples, the words he speaks… they cause your breathing to grow thicker.
Your one hand shifts, skimming lightly across the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.
“Feel it if you want,” he encourages before planting an open mouthed kiss to your throat. Before you can say anything, his lips capture yours. Then, when your fingers apply some pressure, he lets out a small groan, heating you up further.
“Seungmin—” your voice trembles on the edge of undeniable relish.
He hums, before telling you smoothly: “Take these off for me, baby.”
He waits for you to stand on your feet before he rises to strip from his own clothes.
Warm, dizzy and almost completely naked now, you return on the couch.
The sight of his fit stomach steals your breath before you even realise you’re staring. He’s all lean muscle, the kind that shows how much he takes care of his body. A tattoo rests near his ribs, easy to miss unless you’re this close. He’s about to lower himself over you when your hands lift with curiousity, fingers brushing the firm lines of his abs.
“Here, wear this.” He slips the black hoodie over your head before you can protest. “It’s too cold, and as much as I love looking at your tits, baby… I’m not letting you shiver.”
If you didn’t feel tipsy woozy from his earlier kisses than you do now - as the hood settles behind your neck, and his scent, new and stimulating, wraps around you like a second skin. The warmth trapped in the fabric steeps into your bones, softening every goosebump.
When he slides fingers under the hem of your panties, you lift your hips enough so he can drag them down.
As if he can feel the way your pulse quickens, his hands remain lingering gently at your sides, steadying you as he settles comfortably between your thighs.
“Already wet for me,” he murmurs low, dragging a finger between your folds; there’s a glistening slickness that makes his mouth water. Biting on his lip, he spreads your pussy lips apart, exhaling delighted by the view. “Pretty… Don’t even need to spit.”
Your tone weakens when you plead; even his breathing caressing your skin overwhelms you. The knot of heat inside you twists as his digit slides up to your clit slowly - you can’t take it anymore.
“Seungmin, please…”
“Please what, baby?” he teases.
“Touch me, please..” you plead, feeling more warmth flooding your core. And he’s not doing anything except moving his finger up and down in a maddening speed. Dismissing his low chuckling, you move your hips in sheer desperation. “Fuck—”
“You haven’t been touched in a long, long time, baby.” He notes seductively, sliding hands beneath the hoodie to press you down. “Now, stay still for me.”
He starts slow. Licking your clit with a gentle tongue, he lets you get used to the forgotten sensation. Gradually, the delicate stripes evolve into teasing circles that go around your bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure.
Your fluttering chest begins to rise faster as he focuses on the movements that have your mewling louder. His hands shift under the clothing, sending you playful thrills through his metal accessories.
“O-oh… Fuck, right there—” you moan ecstatic, fingers gripping on the long cotton sleeves. “Feels amazin’, oh my god…”
It’s been so long since somebody touched you intimately. But you would’ve remembered the feeling if it was remotely close to this, right?
Seungmin slurps blissfully on your candy-like essence. At this point he is painfully hard, he can barely contain the urge to rub himself against the couch; your rising moans make it even harder to resist.
You sound so aroused, so tumultuous, so close. He can feel your stomach clenching beneath his palm. To check if he’s right, he slips his index finger inside you - your walls instantly suck him in, and he pushes his middle one next.
Your chain of moans shatters once his tongue returns to your clit; he moves it swiftly, occasionally sucking it through his soft, slick lips, wanting to push you further to the edge as you go tighter.
Your body begins to roll against his face, but what leads to him finally swallowing the shame of humping the cushion is the way you chant his name - loud, recklessly, pressing his head closer.
“Seungmin—f-fuck, I’m—” You squeal, choking on your next breath.
A wave of pleasure you never felt before washes over you, causing your fingers to pull harshly on a few strands of hair. When the stars before your eyes slowly vanish, your grip loosens and you blink towards the ceiling, lightheaded.
Slightly embarrassed by your desperate actions, you hurry to remove your hand away.
“Hadn’t tasted such a sweet cunt in a long time,” he says, kissing the inner side of your thigh. “I’m already obsessed, sweetheart...”
You can’t hold his gleaming gaze for long - he crawls up your body, leaning down for an open mouthed kiss. His hand lifts to your neck, grip calmly resting around it; the erotic nature of it has you mewling against his lips.
Both of your mouths are now stained, glistening with a mix of arousal and spit.
You lower a hand to his boner, still trapped in a pair of Calvin Klein. The wet spot you stumble upon catches you off guard - you didn’t expect to see him so turned on considering how often he gets laid.
His forehead rests against yours. Then, the husky unfamiliar change of his voice gives you a burst of shivers. “Do you want it?”
You nod - too quickly, too needy, but you don’t care.
“Why don’t you talk to me, baby?” his thumb swipes along your puffy lips. “Wanna hear your sexy voice, it turns me on...”
Before you can answer, he pulls away to take off his boxers. You follow his silhouette around the room, and the realisation that every single part of his body is crazy attractive slowly sinks into your fuzzy mind as he returns with a condom.
“It’s alright, I’ll get those words out of you.” He teases quietly as he stares down, rolling the rubber onto his length.
You don’t realise how shamelessly you’re staring until he’s back on the couch with hands adjusting your knees.
“Like what you see?” he locks eyes with you, grip lowering his cock. A small sigh slips from his parted lips when he starts spreading your slickness up and down, not entering you just yet.
Not a moment later, his phone begins to ring. He reaches out to grab it, quickly turning the sound off.
You can make a good guess about who might be calling.
“Did she?” you tease back.
However, your playfully curved lips drastically transform into an oh once he pushes his tip through your small entrance.
He cusses quietly, forcing another inch through your warm walls; they stretch slowly, and it feels striking.
“Your answer is the one that matters, baby.” He replies - confident and quick as he always knows exactly what to say. Then, he squeezes his eyes shut; the indescribable tightness causes him to repress a thick groan. “You’re so freaking tight, fuck—I can’t believe it…”
“I like what I see…” you say at once, unintentionally forcing his gaze on you.
He holds his vision upon your face - you already wear that fucked out, hazy glow, the one he’s painted on numerous girls before. He’s seen it many times. But on you… it hits different - brighter, hungrier. It’s a kind of radiance that knocks the balance out of him. He feels almost drunk on the way you look back at him.
His hand grabs a handful of the hoodie, exposing parts of your waist. It’s big on you, and that turns him on even more.
“Fuck, baby…” his fist tightens as he forces his hips forward again. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, like his patience is hanging by a thread.
“I like what I feel too,” you mutter before whining; you’re unaware how you still manage to form words with the kind of stretch you’re experiencing right now.
It was easier when you stayed quiet. Seungmin’s fist remains tight and strong, arm veins emphasised, like it takes everything in him not to push himself in one go. “Me too, baby… you take it so well, look at you.”
“I…” you stutter, distracted by the growing warmth, by the squelching erupting with each precise push. “I need more… more, please. Go faster.”
Seungmin’s eyes earn a delighted spark as he shoots you a glance before inserting the last bit of his throbbing size.
Your jaw drops - with a single glide, he hits a spot, deep and staggering, that you never knew of before.
He forces his hips faster, picking up the rhythm. He moves freely now, hissing getting lost by the lewd clashing of skin against skin. “Holy shit—you feel amazing.”
You take him with such ease; the arousal drips out of you, making the condom feel non existent. In no time, he positions your legs over his shoulders, perfecting his angle. His pants escape his mouth, hot and heavy, matching his strong thrusts.
Until he rests his weight on top of you, trapping you between his muscled arms; breath fanning your flushed face that looks even more marvelous under the mellow, golden light.
Your hands automatically find his broad shoulders. Enjoying the feel of his muscles flexing underneath your touch, you watch his expression sharpen with concentration - his hips revive their pace, but then, provoked by the way your fingers drop to his bicep, nails sinking roughly, they start to move quicker than a moment ago.
“You like it rough, sweetheart?” He asks, pinning his gaze upon your parted lips.
“I… I-” you choke, scratching his skin as you try to hold onto his frame; you feel like you’re about to melt. “I think so...”
Your words come out more like a question, than a response, but your face says it all. Your pussy squeezing him almost violently says enough too.
“Tsk, poor pretty girl,” he coos, swiftly pushing your knees to your chest; your feet almost reach your face, and the thrill of his cock sinking further leaves you breathless. “I don’t think you’ve ever been properly fucked before.”
Every next hit lands perfectly at your g-spot. You swallow, wanting to tell him to not slow down even for a second, but every word gets stuck into your throat.
“Ah, fuck—“ his groans shake slightly as your walls grip dangerously tight. “Cum for me, baby. Go ahead, cum for me again…”
Your eyes roll back, vision turning white. Seungmin’s movements become sluggish as he savours every second of your climax that buzzes through you until you’re squirming.
Your nails dragging down his back in stinging lines is what brings him back to his senses and his dazed eyes slowly open.
“Good girl,” his dominant hand grips your face, and he gives you a single, but long and dizzying kiss. “Now come here.”
He commands you in that kind, caring manner of his that you so easily got used to. But… you sense a new, darker note beneath it.
Your legs are unsteady as you crawl toward the far end of the couch, breath still tangled in your throat.
Seungmin watches every movement with hungry focus, letting you come to him at your own pace. The moment you reach the opposite armrest, his hands slide around your waist, turning you around, then guiding your hips over the cushioned edge.
“I can stay in this pretty pussy all night,” he mutters in awe, sinking fingers into your butt cheeks to spread you open.
A weak, almost howling, sound escapes you as soon two of his fingers invade your entrance in need to feel you still throbbing for him. You feel a faint grazing against your skin, coming from the rough edges of his rings as he pumps his curved digits deeply.
Just when you tear up, he pulls them out, leaving a wet trail behind.
“Doing so well,” he praises you, landing a firm hand on your ass. Then, he invites his cock back inside you; one unexpected push that pulls a surprised yelp from your throat.
This new position provides a perfect angle to your sweet spot. He already has it memorised, so he speeds the pace immediately with skilled movements. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby… keep taking it, just like that.”
The rhythm turns lewd, furious. Soon, you zone out from the overstimulation, unable to comprehend his words, not even his elevating moans. The cushions begin to soak with your arousal as your clit rubs against the rough furniture surface; it’s getting red and swollen, but the pleasure rises regardless.
“God, feels so… s-so good…”
You’re not sure your voice comes out steady enough, but you need to let him know.
Seungmin gnaws on his bottom lip, the jiggly motions of your ass urging him to mark it with his cum right there and then. But he holds back, and focuses on your sweet whimpers instead.
Eventually, he leans slightly forward, one hand traveling up your heated spine. He finds the back of your neck and presses fingers against your throat. This time, he allows you to feel some of his strength, showing you how limiting your oxygen, even just a little, can bring you faster to an orgasm.
“Moan my name, baby.” He says, hearing you stumble on your whimpers. “You sound so hot when you moan my name like a little slut.” He does not loosen his grip, he keeps it there, deliberate and warm, as the burning knot, equally intense in both your bodies, pulses. “Let me hear you, or I’m fuckin’ pulling out.”
“U-uh… Seung—“
You cannot find a way to say the rest of the letters.
But it’s not needed. The second Seungmin gets the smallest taste of you suffocating on his name, the powerful climax shoots through his veins, and he manages to move his hand into your hair; he takes a handful of it, tugging at the roots while his cum spills inside the condom.
When his mind clears enough to step back, the same hand lifts and spanks your ass - once, twice. Then, some more, making your skin sting excitedly as you lay obedient.
When he stops, his lips slide discreetly. “Don’t tell me you thought I’ll just leave you like that,” he smirks, pushing two slim fingers through your sore walls.
Once he starts pumping them speedily, hitting that spot exactly the way you need it, you feel like you’re about to slip from the couch. His hand slams steadily against you, making you quiver as the wet, pornographic noise doubles. “Seungmin… ‘m gonna—“
Seconds later, with jaw stiff from so much wailing, the pressure bursts and your body convulses.
Seungmin gasps lowly, keeping his wrist moving up and down, as you clench around his fingers, transparent juices spraying all over the cushion. “Holy shit… yeah, baby, let it out.” His cock instantly twitches upwards, getting hard again at the sight of your arousing squirt.
When the lights blink back to life, the jumble of emotions washes over you like cold water down your spine. In the sudden clarity your chest flutters with something you cannot explain.
All of the stories about Oh Seungmin are true. All of the whispered rumors; every warning you brushed off when your friends learned he’d been assigned as your partner.
Now, you’re a part of them.
─── ❆
It’s the morning of the presentation.
Students shuffle into the lecture hall, many of them clutching flash drives and coffee cups.
You’re in your seat, rereading the same notecards over and over again, stomach twisting nervously. Exam season always turns you into a bouncing ball of nerves, even when you’re well prepared. On the other hand, Seungmin settles beside you with ease, as if it’s just another Tuesday. His thigh slightly brushes yours while he adjusts.
“You ready?” he asks casually, like you’re about to watch a movie at the cinema.
“Are you?” you shoot back, expecting a shrug or a joke for a reply.
But he only offers you a grin, quick, small and unreadable.
Two minutes later, the professor walks in. Your skittish eyes look everywhere except at him. Your heartbeat quickens with every step he takes toward the desk, and when he calls your names with his low, croaky voice, you stand on autopilot.
Seungmin leans in the tiniest bit, his whispering warm: “You’re gonna be great.”
The surprising gentleness of his tone is unexpectedly reassuring; for some reason walking to the front to face your least favorite professor doesn’t feel so nerve-racking anymore.
In around three minutes, the pressure inside you unwinds. You expected this to be chaos, to carry the whole thing yourself. But Seungmin isn’t doing so bad… trutfully, he’s doing great.
He stands next to you straight, but relaxed, hitting every point you begged him not to forget. His voice is smooth and articulate, and he cues the slides with perfect timing. When it’s your turn to speak, he doesn’t interrupt, not even once - he listens, nodding and anchoring his full attention on you.
Your pulse eases when you notice the professor smiling during your final conclusions. At one point, he even makes a joke, to which Seungmin responds with a polite curve of his lips.
When the class is over, you exhale in relief, gathering your notes with fingers no longer trembling. Seungmin slings his backpack over his shoulder, then leans down, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.
“Told you.”
Before you can give him an answer or even a look in return, he’s already walking toward the door. It’s ridiculous - the way your whole body is humming from those two words of his alone.
You haven’t really seen each other since that day. You’ve only been passing glances in class, but you’ve done nothing that resembles a date. Not that you’re expecting one - everyone knows Seungmin doesn’t date. You’re not a fool to think you’d be his first exception.
Still… something about all of this troubles you. A part of you was hoping he’d text you to come over again, but you haven’t texted about anything that isn’t academic. It’s hard not to notice the way he’s trying to sweep this under the rug. And even harder not to wonder why.
Did he not enjoy it?
Was it bad? Boring?
It didn’t feel that way to you. You’re aware there are many girls who are much more exciting, more experienced; who know how to leave an impression… but still - why this distance?
Isn’t this what guys with his reputation do? Use you before they find someone better and move on? Are you seriously this forgettable?
Maybe it’s better this way. You don’t need the trouble and the inevitable gossip that come with his name anyway.
However, then, you feel it - the change in the air around you. For a moment it’s like you stepped into a spotlight you were not prepared for. But no, it’s just Seungmin’s orbit, the one that the entire campus seems to revolve around.
You feel the stares before you catch them; soft hushes come from three girls near the wall. You can’t hear their words, but you can guess the meaning. Their eyes flick between you and the doorway Seungmin just disappeared through.
He’s oblivious. Or maybe he truly doesn’t care. Maybe he’s lived with this kind of attention for so long that it barely registers as anything more than just background noise. But you’re not used to this, not at all.
You feel everything - the lingering eyes, the speculative smiles.
You knew rumors travel fast. But it seems like they travel even faster when Seungmin is involved.
Oh, wait. It’s not a rumor this time.
You and Seungmin do look at each other differently now. The candlelight, the heat of his mouth against yours, his hoodie. The press of his teeth at your neck - the tender spot you tried to conceal under ten minutes with foundation.
Your cheeks warm up, and you tug the collar of your jacket a little higher; an obvious, guilty motion. It feels like you’re announcing it to the entire room. Yes, I’m hiding something. Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is.
You leave the lecture hall, hoping the chatter will offer you some distraction.
“Hey!” A voice calls out, slightly breathless but familiar.
You turn as Taegyu from your economics class weaves his way toward you. He runs a hand through his black hair, eyes glinting with something between excitement and mischief.
“Glad I caught you,” he says, falling into step beside you as you head down the hall. “Listen, a bunch of us are throwing a party this Thursday. Last big one before winter break.” His grin widens. “Something like ‘congrats, you survived the semester!’ You should come, everyone’s going to be there.”
His tone is easy and friendly as usual… but his gaze? It flicks once to your collar - where the bruise you tried so hard to hide still feels warm on your skin, - and it lingers for a second longer.
Now, you know. His invitation isn’t random at all.
─── ❆
The party is a haze of neon lights and bass that pulses against your ribs. The air smells like beer, weed and winter air that keeps slipping through the door as more people arrive; they’re everywhere, crowded between doorframes and draped over furniture.
You and your friend enter as she squeales about how glad she is that you decided to come. She quickly vanishes into the kitchen, then returns with drinks. You accept the plastic red cup, hovering near a wall decorated in glowing string lights.
For a minute everything feels normal and festive. But the second your eyes find him, your heartbeat shifts its rhythm entirely.
He’s across the room, leaning against the arm of a couch, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. His head is tipped toward a girl, tall, with dark curls and a laugh beautifully blending with the music; her hand is resting on his forearm, and he… he’s smiling, easily and charming.
It’s absolutely ridiculous. It was one night. Just one. A mistake that resulted from hours of boredom.
It’s Seungmin, after all. The campus’ beloved fuckboy. The one who remembers the girls he kisses at parties only when it’s convenient.
You remind yourself of that but it still feels bitter. Maybe because the memory of his touch in the dark still feels warm and… real.
And yet, you haven’t talked about it even once.
You watch the girl laugh again, how she leans in, too close to be just friendly. All the way from here, you see his grin sharpening, his eyes narrowing to her lips - your stomach drops as if the floor crumbles beneath you. It’s all so intentional, so well rehearsed.
Ah, yes. There it is. Jealousy. Hot and humiliating.
You press your back lightly against the wall and lift your cup to take a sip from a cold, sweeter than you expect liquid. Then, a voice, low and warm, slips into your bubble.
“Wow, I’ve been in the country for four hours and I already run into the most beautiful girl at the party.”
You blink and see a guy standing a few feet away, one hand clutching a drink; a colorful skateboard illustrated on the front of his black t-shirt. His hair is slightly messy and his dark eyes are slightly hooded and dazed; there’s exhaustion that clings to his deep voice, but also something else... alcohol? Or maybe something a little stronger?
“Forgive me if I’m a little jetlagged,” he rasps, rubbing the back of his neck. “But honestly, when I walked in and saw you, I thought damn… thought I was hallucinating for a second.”
“Are you talking to me?” you ask, seeing him grin, sleepy yet charming.
“Unless there’s another gorgeous girl hiding behind you.” He steps forward, checking the empty space exaggeratedly. “Nope, just you.”
A soft laugh leaves your mouth and that causes the boy’s smile to stay a second longer. He leans a shoulder against the wall beside you, staring at the side of your face in a way that brings warmth to your skin.
“Excuse me if I’m a little too much, it’s been a long day.” He shoves a hand in his pocket before lifting his cup with the other one. “Jet lag makes me a little flirty.”
“So you’re not from here?”
“I study abroad.” He says, shifting his weight so he’s a little closer. “I arrived this afternoon and got invited by a friend. Didn’t expect my eyes to get so lucky on day one, though.”
Your pulse jumps with adrenaline; it’s an unexpected feeling but totally welcome on a night like this. And he’s really attractive too.
“I’m sure there are plenty of beautiful girls here,” you say eventually with lips curved softly, allowing your gaze to sweep over him. “You’ve barely been here.”
“Mm,” he nods casually, “I think I’ve been here long enough to know who I want to talk to first.”
God, he’s good.
Your heart flutters as you meet his eyes; they’re gleaming with lust in an effortlessly confident way. Maybe this is exactly what you need right now.
For a second, you just peer into his gaze silently. You haven’t flirted at a party since… well, it’s been longer than you’d like to admit. You follow with something you can’t go wrong - you tell him your name and ask for his.
“Jiseok,” he says. He extends his hand only to close fingers around yours.
The seconds pass, but Jiseok doesn’t pull away. He holds your hand, thumb brushing lightly over the back of it, slower than necessary. For some reason that subtle yet surprisingly intimate gesture steadies your pulse.
“We can finish the rest of our drinks somewhere more quiet,” he murmurs, leaning closer as a lazy smirk blooms on his face. “I think the bedroom upstair is still empty.”
Your lips part slightly to answer, but suddenly something presses against your chest.
You don’t want to respond to his gaze coming from across the living room, yet… you helplessly do.
It’s not a quick flicker of recognition, but a quiet contact that lasts long enough for your heart to momentarily stop working. Can he notice Jiseok’s hand on yours? Can he notice the way he’s leaning in, gaze fixated on your mouth? So close, you can feel the cold air trapped in his unzipped jacket. So intentional - if you tell him to kiss you, he won’t hesitate, he will do it instantly in front of everyone. You’re certain.
Can he notice you’re not looking at him the way you did last time you crossed paths on campus?
“So?” Jiseok lifts a brow, anticipating, “What do you say, babe?”
“Kiss me.”
It’s for fun - and a reminder: Seungmin isn’t the only one who can make you feel good.
─── ❆
The last day of the semester hums with that strange energy that settles over campus when everyone is already half-curled at home in their minds. The halls are emptier than usual, the air feels a little overwhelming. You… feel a little unfocused, still a little dizzy. You’re not hungover, just still caught in the memory of last night.
Jiseok keeps appearing in your thoughts - the heat of his mouth on your skin, his moans at your ear - but not in a complicated way that tangles your insides.
He’s an easy guy, straightforward and most importantly - he doesn’t vanish in silence; he doesn’t avoid communication.
Last night, in a stranger’s bedroom, he told you exactly what he wanted, and he let you say what you want back with no pressure, and no promises. At some point while you were putting your clothes back on he asked for your number, and you gave it without thinking. He grinned as he typed it in, and said you could text him when you’re back after the holidays. If you’re in the mood to have fun again, he said. It was casual and playful - no strings tugging at your ribs.
And there’s something thrilling about that… about letting a spark happen without thinking about what might happen next. About sharing one fun night without the weight of expectations. Maybe this is what everyone meant when they talked about the college experience - the freedom to dip into joy without asking it to turn into promises. You understand the appeal now.
But why… why doesn’t it feel the same with Seungmin? Why do you keep expecting something more from him? Something he clearly doesn’t know, and doesn’t want, to give?
Why can’t you want him with that same breezy detachment?
Speaking of him… when you walk out the lecture hall, you find him leaning against the wall as if he’s been there for a while, head bowed, gaze fixed on the floor until your footsteps reach him. Then, he straightens, settling his attention upon you with quiet intensity as his eyes lock with yours.
“Hey,” he greets you softer than you expect.
“Hi.” you clutch your notebook a little tighter, trying to swallow your surprise.
You hadn’t shared any classes today, and it seems like he hasn’t been waiting for anyone else.
He starts walking beside you without asking. You try not to look at him too much, but your body betrays you.
“So,” he murmurs, “you satisfied with our grade?”
“We got an A.”
“Yeah, true.” His mouth curves in self-assured way. “Just making sure you’re happy.”
You give him a look. “Shouldn’t you be the happy one? You winged half the presentation.”
He laughs and you feel something flinch inside you at the familiarity of it.
The noise of students fades behind you as the two of you push through the heavy doors, stepping into the whitened street. The wind slices through the air, brushing your cheeks, cold and crisp.
“So,” he draws out the word casually, “you had fun last night?”
“Mhm, yeah.” Your pulse lifts at the question as you pull your coat tighter. “The party was fine.”
“I saw you with someone,” he continues, watching the path ahead. “Didn’t know you were… branching out.”
You freeze mid-step. Just when he adds, still with that light, nonchalant tone that’s meant to be teasing, but only lands wrong:
“You make friends faster than I thought.”
Slowly, you turn to him, expression cooling by the second.
“Seriously?” you say, voice quiet but sharp enough to make his expression falter. “You of all people?”
His brows furrow; confusion or irritation it’s hard to tell. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re judging me,” you mutter incredulous. “You can sleep with whoever you want, every night cause that’s your thing apparently, but I kiss one guy, one, and you—”
Seungmin stops you with a tight jaw and a low, clipped: “I didn’t say it like that.”
“No, you did say it like that.”
He exhales hard through his nose, lifting his shoulders in a shrug so carefully neutral it feels like a slap in the face. “You can do whatever you want,” he says evenly. “You can flirt and kiss whoever you want. I was just making a conversation.”
“Right,” you scoff. “Because it’s totally okay for you to comment on who I flirt with.”
You turn before the frustration spills completely out of you, boots scuffing along the thin layer of snow as your steps quicken.
Behind you, he exhales, heavier this time. “Look, I didn’t mean it like that! Why are you getting mad?”
You don’t slow down nor do you look back. “Happy holidays, Seungmin.” You say sharply, indicating the conversation has come to an end.
He jogs to catch up, breath puffing out in pale clouds.
“You shouldn’t walk home alone,” he says, a protective note slipping into his tone. “It’s getting dark. Let me drive you.”
“I’m fine.” You reply flat.
“Come on,” he pushes, matching your stride. “You’re freezing. My car is parked right there, see?”
“Save it for your fanclub.”
Seungmin suddenly goes still, watching you walk away. He curses under his breath and heads for his car.
Moments later, the soft rumble of his engine curls into the quiet street. Headlights spill across your shadow, but you keep walking. You don’t even bother looking when he eases forward, matching the pace of the vehicle with yours.
The snowfall thickens faster than expected, gathering in your hair, biting at your cheeks. Your breath clouds the air in front of you, trembling slightly.
A single glance to your right, and you see Seungmin gripping the wheel with one hand, eyes fixed ahead like he’s pretending you’re not the only thing he’s focusing on. His puffer jacket is gone and you see a blue zip-up hoodie, sleeves pushed up enough to expose his foreams; his hands are faintly flushed from the cold.
The window slides down an inch, letting his voice escape. “Get in.”
Facing forward again, you refuse to give him that satisfaction. “No.”
“No?” he repeats steady. “You’d rather freeze your ass off?”
“Yes.”
He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh - as a reaction your heart flutters only causing you further annoyance.
“Stop bothering me.” You snap.
“Stop acting like a brat.” He fires back. “This is ridiculous.”
The car edges forward again, matching your stride with infuriating patience and determination.
Snowflakes melt against your lashes. Your nose stings. Your fingers ache. And Seungmin… he keeps driving slowly beside you in the dark, the headlights of his car painting your path with a glow.
At once, you stop - he stops too. Then, he speaks, softer, but serious like you never heard him before.
“Just get in the car… please.” Not demanding nor pleading - he sounds simply tired from your entire conversation.
Finally, you turn toward him, shoes crunching through fresh snow as you go to open the door to the passenger seat. When you slip inside, you can’t stop the sigh of relief coming out through your cold lips. The heater hums quietly, warming the air in the small space nicely.
You click the seatbelt into place. Afterwards, neither of you speaks. A long silence drapes over the two of you, tense yet still somehow electric.
Eventually, you can’t bare it any longer. “Don’t follow me with your car again,” you murmur.
Seungmin’s mouth twists as he gazes ahead, fingers relaxing slightly on the wheel. “I won’t. It’s just… it was getting dark.”
Outside, the snow drifts down in fleeting sparks across the windshield. He turns onto the street that leads toward your apartment, the drive isn’t long and remains unbearably quiet. You glance at the time on your phone. Your rommates are probably packing their suitcases while music blasts to keep the mood up.
You sit there, silence stretching thin, and a thought slides coldly: this might be the last time you and Seungmin talk.
Soon, he pulls in front of your building. You’re halfway to unbuckling your seatbelt when he stops you, almost too quickly.
“Wait.”
You pause, turning to face him. His profile is lit softly by the blur of streetlights. His fingers flex on the steering wheel before he lets them fall into his lap as he stares straight ahead.
“About earlier, the way I asked you that question…” he murmurs, voice low enough that the heater almost drowns it. “I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. It came out wrong.” His eyes flick to you briefly, then away. “I wasn’t trying to judge you,” he adds. His voice dips unguarded. “I noticed the way that guy looked at you.”
The words hit like a cold rush, honest and stark.
“I know what that look means. I guess I was wondering if you slept with him that night.”
You look away, feeling your pulse thumping in your throat.
“I’m not judging,” he quickly brings his gaze upon you, “I just want to know.”
You force your eyes to meet his, heat flickering under your skin - unfading irritation, confusion and something else blending all together.
“Why does it matter?” you ask, the edge beneath your voice returns and is impossible to hide. “Are you this protective over every girl you sleep with?”
Seungmin huffs out a humorless laugh, the kind that isn’t really laughter at all. His head tips back against the headrest for a second. “Protective?” he echoes, a wry twist pulling at his mouth. “No.” He shakes his head, not looking at you fully. “I don’t… do that. That’s not what this is.”
Your heart kicks once, but hard.
“You think I go around getting jealous over every girl I hook up with?” He glances at you now, eyes catching the dim light. “That’d be a disaster,” he mutters, half to you, half to himself. “It’s just,” he starts again. “You were so against hookups until few days ago.” He sounds like he’s almost teasing, but there’s something underneath his even voice, a curiousity he’s trying to mask. “You can’t blame me for being surprised.”
He gives you a crooked smile that doesn’t quite reaches his eyes.
Outside, snow taps gently against the windshield - the only sound while your thoughts tangle together as silence stretches between you again. You let it last for a beat longer than necessary, and when you speak up again, you hope he notices how much calmer you sound.
“Well,” you turn to him, “to answer your question… yes, I did have sex with him.”
No flick of his eyes, no twitch on his lips. Nothing shows that Seungmin acknowledges your words than a single slow nod.
“And you’re right,” you continue, “I was against hookups for a long time, but…” your tone stays soft, and you let it linger, so the words can really sink one by one. “You helped me realise I need to loosen up and just have fun.”
Seungmin swallows quietly, the message landing a spark in his gaze. His eyes drift to the windshield. “Cool,” he murmurs, nodding again. “Good for you.”
This silence feels different, electrified. Seungmin stills, like he’s fighting some kind of internal instinct.
When his attention returns on you, his eyes stay; in that complicated, indescribable way you still haven’t learned how to read. Your pulse climbs as you try to look away, but you can’t. Even your breath stills as you hold there - as if you play a game where you wait to see who’s going to break first.
Then, his gaze drops lower, to your mouth. Your breath stutters as you mirror the same action.
As last time, you don’t know if you’re the one who leans in first, or if it’s him; maybe both of you collapse at the same time. The space closes and your mouths crash with a feeling of rashness. Somehow, the kiss feels both bitter and sweet, both deep and rushed.
You exhale shakily into his mouth as he moves one hand inside your coat in search for your waist; his other one settles against your jaw.
You just can’t help but keep going, keep kissing him as you arch forward, reaching to grab on his shirt as his grip on the fabric of yours tightens.
The moment you realise you’re both trying to remove clothing from each other’s bodies, your heart begins to thump hard again.
“What…” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as you lose your coat. “What are we doing?”
“Having fun,” Seungmin answers. His hands move with confidence, fingers working at the button of your jeans.
Until now his voice has been even and restrained, but now it’s smoother and laced with lust.
He helps you slide your jeans off with an ease - it’s something he’s clearly done here before, countless times probably. For you, though, this feels entirely new… and risky in a thrilling way.
Your breath hitches all over again once he invites a hand between your thighs, applying some friction at the right spot. His gaze fixates on your parted lips as they let out a whine - an alluring response to his fingers roaming over your clothed clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
Heated, and wanting the sweet taste of his lips again, you pull him forward by the shirt. He allows it but without fulfilling your craving just yet.
“Since I’m the one who thought you how to have real fun,” he murmurs, so close your warm breaths mix, “I think…” he pauses as he wants to hear your next reaction - when the pleasure rushes through you from the first contact of his touch against your bare skin.
He cannot believe how sensitive you are; immediately another, more desperate whine, escapes you the second he glides through your pussy lips - they’re getting slick, letting him move to your bundle of nerves easily.
“I think it’s only fair you let me enjoy it too.” He slowly finishes his thought.
The world outside blurs - the snow, the streetlights, the winter dusk. It all fades, and now it’s just you and him; his car, and his temptations.
The deliberate motions of his fingertips trace on-going circles beneath your panties, unhurried, almost teasing - he remembers how quickly you grow wet at the slightest bit of touch. His forehead brushes yours as he drinks each sound you make; as he mentally catalogues each of your expressions.
“Mmm,” he hums, like your voice is honey that he can taste on his tongue. “You’re the best pussy on campus, do you know that?”
His lips find yours and you finally melt against him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you harder - like he’s losing patience with both you and himself. Your fingers twist in his shirt, and he lets out a low sound, something between a groan and a chuckle when you grind in the rhythm of his hand.
“Not mad at me anymore, huh?”
“Shut up,” you breathe, voice still snappy. When you lean back, your dilated eyes dart to him, like you’re still trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here. Your hand grabs the zipper of his hoodie. “Take it off.”
The neediness you failed to hide makes you feel flustered, but you don’t have time to think about it - Seungmin forces you closer by grabbing your face with one hand.
The act, gentle yet commanding, steals your breath; for a second your gaze drops to his mouth, shiny and expectant - when it returns to his eyes, he almost loses it. But he manages to contain himself.
“Backseat.” It’s all he says.
You slide into the back and a few seconds later, Seungmin follows. It’s not the first time you see his tattoos, but your eyes still betray you, tracing the familiar lines as he settles beside you.
Before he does, he reaches forward to shift the driver’s seat, then the passenger’s, just enough to give you even more room. Next moment, you feel his grip on your hips as he moves you onto his lap - eyes facing the wheel, not his face.
He adjusts your underwear to the side in one smooth motion, meanwhile, you brace hands wherever you can, mouth slightly agape as his middle finger dips into your pussy.
Trying not to dwell on what you and that guy did or didn’t do at the party, Seungmin focuses strictly on you - the breathy sounds falling from your lips, the warm pulsing of your cunt that's sopping with arousal.
As he glides in a steady pace, building the pressure inside you, his other hand roams; sliding up your spine, pinching your waist, giving your ass light slaps.
“You need so little to get soaked, baby,” he comments, voice gravelly as he gets harder.
“Seungmin,” you breathe out, one hand shifting to your clit. You rub it lightly, unable to dismiss the needy ache in your core that already demands for more. “One more,” you murmur, voice strained by want. “Push one more…”
Seungmin chuckles, a low, charming sound that almost makes your mouth water. “So bossy today.”
But he complies. He pushes a second finger into your hole, eyes fixated on your tight entrance widening slightly. Instantly, his relaxed fingers are welcomed, knuckles stained with transparent arousal.
You hiss at the discreet, pleasant stretch, feeling yourself squeeze from pleasure.
“Is that good?” He asks, lifting his eyes to see you struggle keeping your head up. When you nod twice, mumbling softly in response, he decides to intensify the rhythm, just a little bit. “Like this?”
A wave of pleasure floods your veins and you moan louder. “Oh god—“
Unmistakably, you’re seconds away from having an orgasm. Every time he hits that special angle, the warmth in your tummy tightens, like it’s going to snap any moment. “I’m gonna cum…“
“Oh yeah?” Seungmin lifts his free hand and slaps one of your cheeks encouragingly. The wet noise in his car grows louder as his other one maintains the steady rhythm, fingertips pressing that invisible button inside you. “Needy girl… thought you can wait for my cock, at least.”
His teasing words, the mention of his cock alone set a fire within you. Your eyes flutter shut the moment your climax rips through.
Seungmin squeezes your ass with his grip, kneading it as your walls clench around his swift fingers - they pump deeply, relentlessly while the sensation lasts, making your thighs quiver. After he pulls them out in a single, gentle motion, he leans back, exhaling satisfied.
Behind you, you can make out noises - he tears a condom with his teeth, then drags his sweats and underwear enough to roll it onto his dick with steady hands.
“Think you can get closer for me?” He asks, already locking arms around you.
You gasp softly as he pulls you towards his chest, helping you plant your feet on the car seats. His breaths suddenly brushing your neck make your skin tingle as he steadies you against him.
Two of his fingers brush your slick folds only to temporarily slide into your entrance that’s still pulsing, as though he wants to check if you’re still just as wet.
“Taste yourself,” he murmurs, lifting the same hand to your mouth.
Your tongue flicks out, then slowly glides up, like you’re licking an ice popsicle; one long lick. But you want to go even further than that, you want to make Seungmin’s head spin - you close your lips around his two glistening fingers and bob your head to suck as much as you possibly can of them.
You tighten your lips, salivating and humming at your own taste. It looks, and sounds, dirty. And you like it.
“Mmm, that’s it.” Seungmin says softly in approval. The sensation of your tongue rubbing against his fingers is enough to make him twitch. At once, he empties your mouth and moves to get a hold of his dick. “Your pussy tastes sweet, doesn’t it?”
Your breaths slip through short, shallow bursts, but you manage to answer: “Yeah,” you whisper, some warmth rising to your cheeks due to your newfound confidence. “It is sweet.”
You wish you could see if something in his expression shifted, if your words had an impact on him - the way his always have on you.
“Told you so,” he says, voice dropping to a subtle rasp. He lines up with your entrance, then moves both hands on your waist, fingers digging in your sides.
Slowly, you sink down, welcoming him inch by inch. The exciting stretch immediately turns into immaculate pleasure as you adjust until you’re fully seated.
Neither of you moves at first - instead, Seungmin pauses, keeping you still in need to feel you clench around him. He sighs at the familiar tightness.
His arm muscles flex as soon as he lifts you slightly. His length drags against your gummy walls, slow yet sensational, and your moans begin to intertwine with his heavy breathing as both of you surrender to the rush.
“Shit,” he grunts, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. He can feel every throb of yours; how you grow wetter with each slide of his cock. “Not every guy can handle such good pussy, though.”
You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t like that comment. But you miss out on answering something sexy or clever - the desire pools low in your stomach, as you follow his guidance up and down, sucking him in harder. All you can do is gulp before babbling out incoherently.
“Pretty brat has finally come to her senses, huh?” Seungmin sneers breathily at your ear. “Does my cock feel that good?”
Your throat bobs once more before you nod; hint of desperation threading your voice. “Fuck—yes… y-yes, so good.”
Your brain slowly goes blank. His length massages your walls in a torturously sluggish pace, bringing the kind of pleasure that not only stops you from thinking, but also makes your vision blur. There's only one thing on your mind and that’s...
Faster.
Consumed by the amazing way he fills you, you start bouncing, voice rising higher as you aim at your g-spot with every next drop.
Seungmin’s mouth falls open in silent bliss. For a moment he’s speechless, grip loosening as he lets you pick up the speed on your own. “Good girl,” he mutters, impressed. “You look so freakin’ good.”
There’s something about watching you move like that - so assured, so unconstrained of any shyness… as everything about you, from your skin to your scent, invades his senses.
It gets to him.
“You want this that bad, hm? Keep it up, baby… bounce.”
The heat coils tighter in his core as he watches your silhouette, faintly lit by the yellow street lights; your motions turn harsher the closer you get to your high, and your breathless moans clash with the slaps of your skin against his lap.
One hand slams against the near window as you try to keep the momentum. But your pace falters, your muscles go powerless while your high keeps approaching. “More,” you pant pleading. “Please… more…”
Seungmin smiles, enjoying the view of you barely holding yourself on your feet, stifling whines.
“Asking so nicely,” he teases, hands shifting to support your weight. His cock pushes further in, causing you to weaken completely from pleasure. “Fuck—stay right here.”
You let your body slump backwards, feeling every inch of him inside you. Your spine rapidly sweats against his clammy chest as he suddenly thrusts in and out, getting deeper with every next move of his hips.
“Is this what you want, hm?” His breaths start slipping in short pants that follow his intense pace. Before he realises what he’s doing, he moves a hand, fingers pressing against your throat. “Say it.”
“Fuck—“ your mewls grow in volume; the warmth inside you pulses dangerously as his body keeps slamming against you. “Yes, t-this is what I want… I—fuck, I want to cum around you, please… so c-close…”
Seungmin frees your neck, reaching between your thighs to rub quick, small circles on your clit that would help you get there quicker. The stimulation combined with his cock hitting the perfect spot is exactly what your body needs. It heightens the rush in your lower tummy until it starts burning, and then bursts into a deep state of euphoria.
The orgasm overtakes you and you choke on your final moan, pussy wrapped around him strongly, arousal trickling down.
His fingers remain on your sensitive clit, brushing ever so slightly. You’re so warm against him, skin sticking against skin, and you squeeze so perfectly… Seungmin’s eyelids clench shut, and finally he spills into the condom.
Wanting to stay quiet, he bites on your shoulder lightly, suppressing a single shaky sound. When his hips stutter from the sudden thrill, his grip on you tightens almost bruising.
You’re just about to move when his hand slides up your body, gentle as it brushes the lace of your bra; as if to make sure you’re actually here, real.
“Shit, baby…” he whispers in your hair. His voice is low and tired, laced in something your mind is too hazy to comprehend. “I’m gonna miss you.”
─── ❆
When you enter your room, it’s exactly the way you left it. The only difference is that the windows are fogged with cold. But the floorboards still greet you with the same creak, the atmosphere of your home is still warm like you remember it when it welcomes you.
Soon, you start unpacking. Sweaters, a pair of jeans, a pair of sweatpants. Then you move onto the small things - charger, a book, a lip balm; a new one because you lost yours somewhere.
As you tug a scarf free, your phone vibrates against your hip, trapped in the back pocket of your pants. You reach to pull it out, and the screen lights up when you swipe.
A missed call. From him.
Your stomach drops, then flips from various feelings.
“Nope,” you say out loud, locking back your screen.
Yesterday still exists. The memories are fresh. The pleasure too, nearly fresh and vivid enough for you to choke simply by reminiscing.
Such a disaster.
You throw the scarf on your bed and start pacing your room. You have to call him back, you tell yourself. You cannot ignore the call like a coward.
You grab the phone again, your thumb hovers over his name for a second before you finally press it. It rings twice before his voice slides into your ear, familiar and warm.
“Yeah?” his tone is low, lazy. “What’s up?”
You stop pacing so abruptly that your knee collides with the bedframe.
“Shit!” you hiss, dropping onto the mattress and clutching your leg. “Damn it…”
He exhales a quiet laugh. “Are you okay there? You sound like you’re fighting the furniture.”
“I’m fine,” you say quickly, sucking in a breath and forcing your voice into something resembling calm and casual. “I just… I saw you called me. Like, ten minutes ago.”
There’s a pause, fortunately not long.
“… I didn’t call you.”
You frown, eyes narrowing at the ceiling. “What?”
“You called me,” he says amused now. “I picked up, didn’t hear anything, so I hung up.”
Heat rushes to your face all at once. You glance down at your pockets, suddenly suspicious of them.
“But my phone…”
“… was in your pocket,” he finishes easily. “Yeah, I could tell.”
You let out a breath, tipping your head back against the mattress. “I hate technology.”
Seungmin laughs effortlessly. “Relax,” he says. “I wasn’t eavesdropping.” Then his voice tilts, just slightly, into something more curious. “So… you got any plans while you’re home?”
“Not really,” you admit. “Nothing exciting at least.”
“That so?” There’s unmistakable interest now threading through his words.
“I mean, I did get invited out for drinks,” you add, remembering. “This Saturday.”
“Oh?” He doesn’t rush it. “By who?”
You bite your lip, smiling a little. “Taegyu.”
“Ah, Taegyu…” he repeats slowly. “That Taegyu?”
“Yes,” you say sweetly. “You know him. He’s actually from here too.”
The silence that stretches is telling. When he speaks again, his tone is strangely unreadable. “You’re reconnecting.”
“Not really,” you say quickly, pushing yourself up on one elbow. “We just ran into each other and he said it might be fun to hang out. A few other people I know will be there too.”
“So you’re going?”
You shift on the bed, the phone warming your palm. Your heart starts thudding like it’s enjoying this far more than it should.
“Maybe. Like I told you… I don’t exactly have anything interesting planned for my break so far.” You pause, glancing around the familiar walls of your room. “What about you?” you ask. “You doing something fun?”
“Haven’t really thought about it yet.”
“What?” you laugh and the disbelief softens the sound. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what?”
“That the It boy’s calendar isn’t already full for the holidays?” you tease.
He scoffs, but you can hear the smile tucked into it.
“You’re not funny,” he shoots back, softer.
“You don’t strike me as the no plans type, that’s all.”
“Maybe I have an invitation or two,” he admits. “Doesn’t mean I want to go.”
“Oh?” you murmur intrigued; you can’t deny there’s something tightening pleasantly in your chest.
“Yeah,” he says simply. Then, more pointedly, like he knows exactly what he’s doing: “Depends who’s asking.”
“I see.” You say, then let the silence stretch, just to see if he’ll fill it.
You adjust against the pillows, listening to his calm breathing on the other end of the line. Then…
“If I come up with something more interesting…” his voice drops alluring. “Would you cancel on him?”
Your eyes drift to the ceiling, your lips curling despite yourself as warmth blooms somewhere low and dangerous.
“Make it worth my while,” you say softly, “and we’ll see.”
─── ❆
You’re already ready, dressed in the outfit you picked the night before, and anticipating.
Your coat hangs over the back of the chair, your boots are placed neatly by the door, your bag is packed with the essentials.
Seungmin planned a little road trip for himself, just like that. He said it would be fun for you to show him around, to see the town that shaped you. He’d never been here before. The way he suggested it made it impossible for you to not say yes. So you texted Taegyu that you could catch up another time.
You didn’t overplan it - after all, how much could you fit in before it got dark and he had to drive back? Still, a few places stand out in your mind that are non-negotiable, like your favorite café and the park you used to skip class in.
Your phone rests on the bed, and every few minutes, you glance at it without meaning to. Time really stretches when you’re waiting for something, or someone, and you feel every second of it.
When it buzzes, your heart immediately jumps. For a fraction of a second everything is still perfect. He’s on his way. This is happening. Then, you open the message, his silly nickname lighting the screen.
it boy: I’m an asshole for this but I have to cancel
it boy: I’m really sorry. I should’ve been more sure before I said anything
The words settle slowly; cold and unavoidable like snow.
The worst part is that the text doesn’t surprise you. This is exactly who he’s always been - this is the risk you took. If anything, this is on you, not him.
Still, you don’t know why, but it hurts.
Sitting in your quiet room, you let it all settle, then pick up the phone again, more steadily. You could sulk. You could tell him he’s a jerk who only cares about himself. You could ask why?
But you don’t do any of that.
you: No problem. I get that.
Send.
The words feel a little too small for what’s sitting in your chest, but that’s the point - you don’t want your message to carry the weight of your disappointment.
You refuse to be just another girl who makes drama out of nothing.
You pull the blanket over your shoulders and lie back, pretending you’re perfectly okay. No… you’re practicing.
You’re practicing the version of you who doesn’t mind.
You were walking back from yet another one of those cozy dinner nights with live music.
Ever since you two had started dating, things had changed, just slightly. That playful, easy energy was still there, but now it carried something softer. Something warmer.
Gunil had a quiet way of showing he cared.He always opened doors for you; car doors, restaurant doors, it didn’t matter.He insisted on carrying your things, whether heavy or light, and always made sure you walked on the safe side of the sidewalk.
He’d take off his jacket without thinking twice if you even shivered.
Tonight was no different.
But the way your hands kept finding each other, fingers brushing, palms pressing lightly together, the way you pressed little kisses to his cheek like sparks…Yeah. You both knew exactly what this was.
You needed to kiss.
You’d caught him glancing at your lips a few times mid-conversation,his gaze lingering for a heartbeat too long before flicking away,as if afraid you’d notice and feel uncomfortable.
If only he knew you’d been watching his lips too. Just… quietly, secretly.“So,” he said, stopping in front of your apartment building. “This is you.”
“Yeah…” you replied, not moving an inch.You didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t want to say goodbye.
Not yet.
He didn’t move either.
He didn’t want to go.
Not yet.
“Uh… goodbye hug?” you offered, folding your hands nervously in front of you.
He smiled, that soft, crooked smile of his, and stepped into you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You circled your arms around his neck, drawn in by his warm scent, the steady heat of him pressing close.
He closed his eyes, holding you gently like he wanted time to pause.
Even when you pulled back slightly, you stayed close, faces barely inches apart, breaths mingling in the cool night air.Something shifted.
The air between you thickened.
This time, you didn’t look away from his lips.
And that was all it took.
“Can I kiss you…?” he asked, voice low, careful, almost trembling, brushing the words across your skin as if they were a caress. You didn’t answer with words, just nodded, eyes fluttering closed, heart hammering.
He looked at you for a heartbeat longer, as if memorizing every curve of your face, every flutter of your eyelashes, the faint warmth of your cheeks.
Then he leaned in.The kiss was slow at first, tentative; soft, featherlight. His lips pressed to yours with a gentleness that made your knees feel weak, like the world had shrunk to only the two of you.
Then he deepened it, lips parting slightly, inviting yours to do the same. Your breaths mingled, soft sighs escaping as your tongues brushed, delicate and curious, tasting and teasing, learning.
His hands slid up to cradle your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, while the other hand rested against the small of your back, pulling you closer, grounding you in the heat of the moment.
Your hands tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, fingers threading through the silky strands, holding him as if you could anchor him there forever.
The kiss grew bolder, deeper, slow and lingering. Lips moving in rhythm, hearts hammering in unison, breaths shallow, warm, mingling in the quiet night. The faint sound of your lips meeting, parting, pressing again was like music, subtle yet intoxicating.
Every nerve ending seemed alive, every pulse a current of heat between you. The world around you, the street, the distant music, the apartment lights, disappeared entirely.
Finally, you broke apart just enough to catch your breath, foreheads touching, noses brushing, lips still tingling from the contact.
He opened his eyes, a faint blush painting his cheeks, and your lips curved into a shy, knowing smile.
And, of course, neither of you could resist.Another kiss, soft and lingering, teasing, tasting, the small exploration of lips and tongues, warmth spreading through your bodies like wildfire.You pulled back only slightly, eyes glinting with amusement and desire.
“Wow…” you whispered, heart still hammering.
He chuckled softly, voice rough, still pressed close. “Yeah… wow…”
Kim Jungsu
Lately, life had been a whirlwind, endless rehearsals for him, endless touch-ups and rushed schedules for you. The band was preparing for more shows than ever, and as the makeup artist, you were pulled in every direction. Between soundchecks, stage lights, and backstage chaos, you and Jungsu had barely stolen a moment for yourselves.
Since the start of your relationship, you’d been inseparable. Whispered smiles, waiting for each other at the end of the day, subtle exchanges of accessories; your bracelet swapped for his ring, his hoodie draped over your shoulders. Even your colleagues had started to notice. But when the storm of work hit, the absence was sharp, almost painful, leaving you both restless, aching, more needy than before.
By the end of those long days, Jungsu was like a cat starved for touch, melting into your hands whenever you stroked his hair, leaning into your palm when you brushed his cheek. But it wasn’t enough. Not for him. Not for you either. You both wanted more, the kind of closeness that burned, that said: I need all of you.
And yet, despite everything, you hadn’t kissed yet. The desire was there, heavy in the air, lingering in the way your eyes kept slipping to his lips, but there had never been the right moment.
Until now.
That evening, after another exhausting day, Jungsu offered to drive you home. It was the first time in weeks that your schedules aligned. Normally you finished earlier, leaving him behind with rehearsals. But tonight, the universe gave you this one chance, and neither of you wanted to waste it.
“Susu!” You slid into the passenger seat, tossing your bag into the back, before leaning straight into him. The hug was desperate, bodies pressed tight, hands roaming in gentle, hungry touches, both of you whispering without words: give me more.
When you pulled back, he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek. His breath trembled against your skin.
“I miss you so much,” he murmured, letting his head fall onto your shoulder, still holding you as if afraid you’d slip away.
“But I’m here now,” you soothed, fingers combing through his soft hair.
“That’s not what I mean,” he said, lifting his head, his eyes catching yours. And this time, his gaze didn’t wander; it dropped to your lips.
Your smile faltered, replaced by a soft flush rising in your cheeks. The air between you thickened.
It was reckless, sitting there in the car where anyone from work could stumble by. But none of it mattered; not when all you could think about was how close his mouth was to yours.
“You… want to kiss me?” you whispered, your fingertips brushing against his cheek.
“You have no idea,” he breathed, lips curving into a nervous smile as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered there, trembling slightly. “Can I?” You nodded, closing your eyes. Both your hearts raced, breaths tangled, anticipation humming like electricity.
His lips brushed yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if memorizing every curve, every tremble. The warmth of his mouth seeped into yours, soft yet insistent, and your fingers threaded through the fine strands of his hair at the nape of his neck, holding him as if afraid the world might pull him away.
The first gentle pressure grew, lips parting slightly, letting breaths mingle. You tasted him, subtle traces of mint from his toothpaste, a hint of lingering coffee, the unmistakable warmth that was purely him. It sent a shiver down your spine.
His hands moved along your waist, pressing you against him, grounding the intensity, while your own hands roamed, brushing along his shoulders, tracing the lines of his jaw. Every small movement became a conversation, every sigh and tremble a language only you two understood.
Then he deepened the kiss, tipping his head to the side, tongue teasing, tentative, then exploring, slow and careful, as if learning a secret. Your breaths came faster, mingling with his, hearts racing in synchronized panic and pleasure. The faint, audible sound of lips meeting, parting, and rejoining filled the quiet car, a private symphony that made the world outside disappear.
Time stretched and warped; you could feel the warmth of his chest against yours, the steady press of his hands, the heat radiating from his body into yours. Every nerve felt alive, every heartbeat like a drum urging you to melt completely into him. You tilted closer, letting your lips mold to his, your tongue brushing his, the kiss becoming a slow, sensuous dance of give and take, push and pull.
Breath grew scarce, and finally, reluctantly, you broke apart, foreheads brushing, noses grazing, lips swollen and warm, breaths mingled, hearts still hammering. Jungsu pressed one more quick kiss to your lips before hiding his face in his hands, laughing in disbelief.
“You’re not going shy on me now, are you?” you teased, though your own cheeks burned just as much.
He peeked at you between his fingers, his grin boyish and flustered. “God… I’ve wanted that for so long,” he murmured, voice low, hoarse with need.
You smiled, trembling slightly, fingers still clutching his hair. “Me too,” you whispered. “More than I thought I could.”
He kissed you again, soft and lingering.
O.de (Oh Seungmin)
Ever since the two of you started dating, life felt just like before, only a hundred times more intimate, more comfortable, as if everything had finally fallen into place.
Seungmin loved making couple plans: the cafés that gave discounts to pairs, theme parks, costume parties where you dressed as famous pop-culture couples. But the truth was, both of you preferred the quiet rituals at home; watching movies curled together, experimenting with ridiculous recipes found online, or lying in bed sharing the details of your day, just as you had during that first, trembling confession.
What he loved most were the self-care nights. Clay masks, new skincare routines, you dyeing his hair while he returned the favor, or the intricate hairstyles he insisted on trying out for you, styles that somehow always turned out flawless.
“Wow! How did you do this?” you gasped, staring at your reflection, the braids along the sides of your hair woven so neatly it looked professional.
“Oh… just a few tutorials,” he shrugged, pretending it was nothing, though the truth was he spent hours looking for new styles, proud to see your eyes sparkle each time.
But tonight’s plan was different. You had decided to practice an elegant dance for an upcoming party. Yet the air in the room carried something heavier, warmer, no longer the playful ease of your usual nights, but a tender pull toward something more. Lately, the romance between you had begun to stretch its wings: longer embraces, lingering kisses on the cheek, his hand brushing down your waist as his lips lingered on your temple.
The room glowed in soft amber light, jazz spilling gently from the speakers. Two untouched glasses of wine rested on the table, forgotten. You stood shyly with your hands folded, and he stepped closer, nervous but determined.
“Your hands…” Seungmin murmured, guiding them gently to the back of his neck. His touch was steady but warm enough to make your skin prickle. He cleared his throat, then placed his own hands at your waist, tentative, careful, yet so deliberate you felt heat rush to your cheeks.
“Like this?” you asked softly.
He nodded, though his gaze flickered to your lips before darting back to your eyes. “And now… slow steps. Two this way, two that way…” You moved together, though the rhythm was clumsy, almost forgotten the closer you grew. Each sway drew you nearer, breaths mingling, eyes catching and holding too long. His fingers flexed slightly at your waist as though fighting the urge to pull you closer.
A laugh bubbled between you, breaking the silence, until it dissolved, leaving the room charged.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m… not paying attention to the dance.”
“Then what are you paying attention to?” Your voice was barely a murmur, though you already knew.His lips parted, hesitation thick in the air. Finally, he breathed, “You.”
The steps faltered, the music fading into the background until there was only the sound of your breaths. His thumb brushed your side, climbing slowly until it reached your cheek. The warmth of his palm held you still, and in that closeness you could feel the tremor of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of wine and shampoo, the nervous flutter in his chest that matched your own.
“Is this… okay?” he asked, voice hoarse with restraint.
You nodded, your pulse thundering in your ears.
The first kiss was a fragile thing, his lips brushing yours in a fleeting, trembling touch that felt more like a question than an answer. You exhaled into it, eyes closing, and leaned forward to catch his mouth again, firmer this time. His soft gasp was swallowed into the kiss as he drew you nearer, the space between your bodies erased.
It was slow at first, tentative, testing, savoring the shape of each other’s mouths. His lips lingered, pressing and pulling back, as though memorizing the taste of you. Then, when your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, something in him loosened. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing carefully against yours in a hesitant request.
You answered without words, parting your lips to welcome him. The kiss grew warmer, fuller, your mouths moving together in a rhythm as natural as breathing. Each meeting of lips carried a faint, wet sound that seemed louder against the quiet jazz, each slide of tongues a spark that sent shivers down your spine.
His hand slid from your cheek back to your waist, pulling you close until your bodies aligned, heat coursing between you. Your own hands roamed from his neck to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as though anchoring yourself in the moment.
Time blurred; the kiss stretched into something unhurried yet desperate, as if neither of you wanted it to end. The taste of red wine lingered, mingling with the warmth of his breath, the tickle of his hair brushing your face, the thrum of his heartbeat racing against your own.
When air became scarce, you pulled back just enough for your lips to part with a soft sound. Your foreheads rested together, breaths uneven, both of you flushed and smiling shyly. His lips were swollen, his voice husky when he finally whispered, “Do you still want to practice the dance?”
You laughed quietly, brushing your thumb across his jaw. “The dance can wait.”And before he could reply, you kissed him again, longer, deeper.
Gaon (Kwak Jiseok)
Since that clumsy, half-whispered confession you and Gaon shared, time had reshaped everything between you, like the tide smoothing the sharp edges of a broken shell. At first, you both stumbled backward, retreating into awkward silences and nervous glances. You avoided him at every corner, not out of disinterest, but because your heart refused to behave. Every time you saw him, you wanted to run straight into his arms, to say I like you until your throat ached, to kiss him until the air between you disappeared. But wanting it only made the embarrassment burn deeper.
Yet time, gentle and patient, stitched things back together.
Little by little, comfort returned. Only now, it came hand in hand with tenderness.
You were no longer just friends; you were something more.
You walked home together beneath the soft glow of streetlights, shared ice cream at your favorite corner shop, your laughter spilling into the evening air. The neighborhood ladies had begun to notice too.
“You two make such a lovely couple! Enjoy these days of youth,” said the white-haired lady from apartment 301 as you passed by, her smile wide and knowing. You both flushed crimson, sharing shy laughter that lingered all the way up the stairs.
Tonight’s plan had been his idea: the amusement park.
You’d both been looking forward to it all week, he especially, insisting he was brave enough for anything the park could throw at him. That illusion shattered the moment the roller coaster dropped, and his scream pierced the air like a siren. You laughed so hard you nearly forgot to breathe, clutching his arm while he swore he’d never set foot on it again.
After the adrenaline faded (and after you promised never to tell anyone about his terrified face), the two of you decided to end the night gently, with the Ferris wheel.
What you didn’t know was that Gaon had been waiting for this all along.
He wanted your first kiss to be the kind people remembered for years, the kind that happened under city lights, when time felt like it held its breath just for the two of you.
What he hadn’t accounted for was the Ferris wheel’s dizzying height. Halfway up, the ground looked miles away. His palms grew damp, his heartbeat a wild drum against his chest.
“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice threading through the hum of the wind.
He looked at you, your face bathed in golden light, eyes glinting with laughter, and forgot everything else.
God, you were beautiful. He wanted to kiss you so badly it almost hurt.
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, the words tripping out with an awkward laugh. “Just… not great with heights.”
“You don’t have to be scared.” You squeezed his hand, your thumb drawing slow, soothing circles against his skin. Then, without thinking too much, you leaned in and pressed a small, warm kiss to his cheek.
His breath caught. The spot where your lips touched felt like it had caught fire.
“Why’d you come to the park if you’re scared of rides?” you teased gently, smiling at his reddened ears. “We could’ve done something else.”
“Well…” He shifted, turning to face you fully, voice softer now, softer than the music playing faintly below. “I wanted to make a special memory. For us.”
He swallowed, meeting your eyes with a mix of nerves and hope.
“I wanted our first kiss to be… special.”
Your heart melted at the honesty in his voice. You smiled, moving closer, your knee brushing his.
“Just being with you is special,” you whispered.
And before he could react, you leaned forward and kissed him.
Just a gentle press of lips, brief, weightless, but it stole his breath completely. He froze, eyes wide, lips parted in surprise.
“Hey—!” he stammered, laughing softly, still dazed. “That was supposed to be my job.”
You grinned, resting your arms loosely around his shoulders. “Then take it back.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, really looked, his gaze tracing every soft curve of your face, the reflection of neon lights dancing in your eyes. Then he leaned in, slowly, carefully, as if afraid the moment might shatter.
The second kiss bloomed like something inevitable.
His lips found yours with shy certainty, warm and trembling, tasting faintly of sugar and courage. The world seemed to tilt, not from the height, but from the closeness. The air between you thickened, sweet and electric, until the small Ferris wheel cabin felt like its own quiet universe.
He kissed you as if learning how. His hands rose to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks in reverence. You could feel his heartbeat through his fingertips, quick and unsteady. When your lips parted, the kiss deepened, a soft hum of breath shared between you.
The taste of him was gentle, something between strawberry ice cream and the night air, and it made your chest ache in the best way. Time dissolved. There was no noise, no motion, only the warmth of him and the fluttering pulse in your own wrist.
When you finally pulled apart, the world seemed to return all at once, the creak of the wheel, the distant laughter, the faint scent of popcorn carried by the wind.
You rested your foreheads together, breaths tangled, hearts still racing in unison.
“Think we’re almost down?” he asked softly, a shaky smile tugging at his lips. “Because I’m still terrified of this thing.”
You laughed, brushing your thumb over his mouth before stealing one last kiss.
“We’ll be down soon,” you promised, still smiling against him. “But I don’t mind if it takes a little longer.”
Junhan (Han Hyeongjun)
Since that quiet confession, something in the air between you and Junhan had changed, not suddenly, but with the slow grace of dawn light creeping across a room. What was once simple friendship had begun to hum with a softer electricity.
Small things carried new weight: the brush of pinkies when walking side by side, the laughter that lingered a little too long, the silence that no longer felt empty. Nights turned into gentle rituals; folding laundry together, whispering secrets at the convenience store when the city slept, sharing the kind of smiles that lived somewhere between shyness and longing.
Junhan was never one for grand gestures. He loved in quieter ways, through steadiness, through presence. His shoulder became a small refuge for your tired head, his hands steady when yours trembled. When he couldn’t say what he felt, he showed it in time spent together, in late-night games, half-burned instant ramen, the soft strum of guitar strings guiding your clumsy fingers.
That evening, the air around him felt different. Maybe it was the golden light slanting through the blinds, maybe it was you, sitting cross-legged on the floor, chin resting on your knees, eyes fixed on him with a quiet, unspoken tenderness.
He’d asked Seungmin for advice once, awkwardly, almost regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.
“Hyung, what do I do?”
Seungmin had only laughed, shaking his head. “She wants you to kiss her, idiot. She’s just waiting for you to realize it.”
Junhan had gone silent then, unsure if the warmth spreading through his chest was courage or panic.
Now, sitting in front of you, he thought about that moment. The way you looked at him, as if he was something fragile and luminous, made it hard to breathe.
“I think I need a break,” he murmured, setting the guitar down slightly. “You want to try playing for a bit?”
Your eyes widened, startled from your reverie. “Oh- sure.”
Then, as if guided by something beyond thought, he shifted a little, parting his knees, opening his arm.
“If it’s okay,” he said softly, barely audible, “sit here.”
You froze. His words hung between you like a held breath. Slowly, you nodded, crossing the small distance and lowering yourself onto his left thigh. Your pulse thrummed loud enough you were sure he could hear it. His arm came around you, tentative but warm, adjusting the guitar so it rested across both your laps.
“Hands,” he murmured, and the word brushed your skin like velvet. His breath touched your ear, light and warm, smelling faintly of coffee and something that was just him. You placed your fingers on the strings, and his hands followed, larger, gentle, guiding yours with a tremor that betrayed his calm tone.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered, half amused, half nervous.
“Can you blame me?” you said with a small, shaky laugh. “It’s not easy being this close to a rock star.”
He smiled, his voice soft as he answered, “The rock star’s your boyfriend, remember?”
You laughed together, and for a heartbeat, the sound filled the room. But laughter faded easily into silence. Into the stillness of two people realizing how close they’d drifted without meaning to. Your eyes met, his dark and uncertain, yours wide and trembling with something that wasn’t fear.
“Jun…” you began, your voice little more than air.
“I know,” he said quietly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I just didn’t want to mess it up. I’ve never… you know.”
“Hey,” you murmured, tilting your head. “You’re doing fine.”
He swallowed, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up again. “You’re sure?”
You nodded. “I am.”
The guitar slid from his lap to the floor with a soft thud. His hands found your waist again, fingertips tentative but warm. You could feel his heartbeat through his palm, fast, uneven, alive. You leaned closer until your noses almost touched.
The first kiss wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t cinematic or polished. It was hesitant, barely a press of lips, and yet the whole world seemed to hush around it. His mouth tasted faintly of cappuccino, a trace of sweetness over nerves. You could feel the soft exhale he let out against your skin, his hand trembling as it moved up your back.
When you deepened the kiss, the rhythm found itself, slow, tender, a pulse of warmth that spoke without words. His lips parted slightly, shyly, inviting you in. Breath mingled, the world reduced to heartbeat and heat, the faint hum of strings still vibrating from earlier notes. His hand tightened at your waist as though afraid the moment might slip away if he didn’t hold it gently enough.
When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, breaths tangled and uneven. The air between you was heavy with sweetness and disbelief, the kind of silence that follows something sacred.
“You okay?” you asked softly, voice trembling like a note held too long.
He smiled, small, crooked, full of wonder. “Yeah,” he whispered. Then, as if the first kiss hadn’t been enough, he leaned in again, pressing one last kiss to your lips, fleeting, like punctuation at the end of a prayer.
You laughed quietly, arms wrapping around him as if you could keep the moment from fading.
Lee Jooyeon
That jealous little confession had changed everything between you and Jooyeon.
You’d been close before, inseparable since childhood, but now there was a softness in the air, something warmer, deeper.
You still teased each other endlessly, but beneath the laughter, there was something else pulsing quietly between your hands, your glances, your silences.
You did everything together: lazy afternoons spent drawing each other, ridiculous internet recipes that always went wrong, arcade runs that ended in laughter and snacks. Even small competitions, who could eat the spiciest dish or win at video games, had turned into excuses to be close, to touch, to steal glances when the other wasn’t looking.
Jooyeon had always been the clingy one.
He loved having you near, loved the simple things; holding your hand, brushing your hair from your face, leaning close enough to breathe the same air.
And lately, he’d developed a habit. A strange, adorable, dangerous habit.
Biting.
It started as a joke, one playful nip at your finger when you teased him; but soon his little “bites” became something else. On your cheek, on your hand, at the edge of your shoulder. Always light, never serious. And somehow, always enough to make your heartbeat stumble.
You never complained. You couldn’t. You liked it too much.
But lately, the teasing tension between you had been shifting, something unspoken pressing at the edges of all that laughter.
Jooyeon was trying to be patient, but you could tell. The way his eyes lingered on your lips when you talked. The way he’d say, half-joking, “Then come shut me up,” when you told him to stop talking.
He’d wanted to kiss you since he was sixteen. Now that he finally could, he didn’t know how to stop wanting it.
The night was soft around you, the air smelled faintly of rain and something fried from a neighbor’s kitchen, a lazy symphony of domestic noise.
Inside your room, the glow of the TV painted everything in shifting shades of blue and red, the title screen of a new game flickering.
Jooyeon sat beside you on the floor, legs crossed, hair falling loosely over his face as he set up the console. The faint hum of the machine filled the silence between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It never was.
You’d always been like this, close enough to share warmth without needing words.
“Alright,” he said, his voice breaking through the static glow, “rules are simple: loser eats the vegetables in your fridge.”
You looked at him with mock horror.
“Excuse me? You hate vegetables. That’s not even fair.”
He grinned. “Exactly. I’m betting on my victory.”
You scoffed, holding up your controller like a challenge.
“If I win,” you said, sticking your tongue out, “you eat all of them. Even the broccoli.”
Jooyeon’s laugh filled the room, low, bright, contagious.
Then, before you could react, he leaned forward and nipped playfully at your finger.
“Deal,” he murmured against your skin, the warmth of his breath lingering there a second too long.
You yanked your hand back, laughing.
“Yah! What is wrong with you—”
He lunged again, catching your hand, trying to bite it once more, and suddenly you were both tumbling sideways onto the rug, tangled in laughter and limbs.
The room echoed with it, that kind of carefree sound that only belonged to the two of you.
But somewhere between the laughter and the mock fighting, something shifted.
Jooyeon pinned your wrists gently against the floor, his body hovering over yours, chest rising and falling. His hair brushed your cheek, soft as a whisper.
You were both laughing still, until you weren’t.
He dipped his head slightly, his lips brushing your wrist before giving a teasing bite.
It should’ve been funny. It wasn’t.
It sent a spark through you, sharp and electric, something warm curling low in your stomach.
You looked up at him, your breath caught halfway.
He was looking back, his usual grin fading into something quieter.
His thumb brushed against your skin, tracing the spot he’d bitten as if he wanted to apologize and repeat it all at once.
“I win the bite war,” he whispered, smiling just enough to soften the tension.
You laughed under your breath, trying to mask how hard your heart was beating.
“Sure,” you said, pretending to roll your eyes.
And then, without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He froze, just for a heartbeat, then exhaled, eyes fluttering shut.
When he opened them again, something had changed. His gaze was darker now, but not in a way that scared you. It was the kind of look that asked a question he didn’t know how to voice.
“Can I—” he started, his voice rough, uncertain.
You didn’t let him finish.
“I want to,” you whispered.
Silence wrapped around you like a second skin.
Jooyeon’s hand slid from your wrist to your face, brushing your hair aside, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw.
He leaned closer, slow, almost hesitant, as if afraid to break whatever fragile spell had been woven between you.
And then his lips found yours.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t perfect.
It was real.
A kiss born from years of friendship and unspoken longing, soft but trembling, unsure but utterly sincere.
The room seemed to fade away, no TV, no music, just the hum of two heartbeats syncing by accident.
You tilted your head slightly, finding his rhythm. His hair brushed against your face again, tickling your skin as you smiled into the kiss.
He deepened it slowly, carefully, his hand cupping your cheek. His breath mingled with yours, sweet with the faint trace of cola and sugar. You felt everything, his hesitation, his warmth, the small tremor of relief that ran through him as if he’d been holding this moment for years.
It wasn’t a kiss to take your breath away.
It was a kiss that gave it back.
Quando vocês finalmente se separaram, suas testas permaneceram coladas.
O ambiente estava silencioso, exceto pelo som fraco da música do jogo tocando sem parar ao fundo.
Vocês dois riram baixinho e sem fôlego.
Os lábios dele estavam vermelhos, os seus um pouco inchados, e o ar entre vocês parecia algo sagrado, algo merecido.
“Forget the vegetables,” you murmured, voice still trembling with laughter. “If you lose again… I want another kiss.”
Jooyeon smiled, eyes crinkling, soft and mischievous all at once.
“Then I’m never winning again,” he said.
Can I request a reaction pov with each of the Xdinary heroes where them as ur fwb or smth and u guys got into a big fight bc u saw him with another girl and u guys have been distant since then but a few days later one of ur friend suggested that u to go on a date with a guy that they knew and u agreed without thinking much but Xdinary heroes found out that from one of their friends and later when u went home they were already there,jealousyy and possessive vibe
Ი𐑼: i absolutely loved this idea, and I would like to apologize because it's going be kinda long. hope it's the way you imagined!
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🃜🂭 — How each member of Xdinary Heroes would react to you after they found out you went on a date with another guy because of a misunderstanding.
nsfw (kinda explicit) | 18+ | jealousy | heavy makeout | slightly against - comfort
— Alexa, play Misunderstood by Bon Jovi
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𐀔 Goo Gunil
Gunil had been patient about your situationship — too patient.
He liked the slow burn, the way you always drifted toward him during practices, how you always ended up sitting next to him without thinking.
But when he heard from Jungsu that you were out on a date?
He shut his laptop.
Hard.
He paced around the dorm the entire time you were gone, folding and unfolding his arms, sighing deeply, checking the door every five minutes like he was waiting for his soul to re-enter his body.
When you finally stepped inside, Gunil was already standing there.
"Y/n… did you really go on a date?"
You froze. "Uh— yeah? Is that a problem?"
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, stepping closer.
"That guy. Did you like him?"
You blinked, surprised by the edge in his voice.
"Why does it matter?"
Gunil exhaled shakily.
"Because I thought we had something. And I really don’t want to pretend I’m okay with losing you to some random guy you barely know."
Jealousy, possessiveness — but wrapped in sincerity.
You stepped closer. "I only said yes because I thought you liked that girl you were talking to."
He stared. "Girl? She’s my cousin."
"Oh."
Gunil laughed — breathless, relieved — and cupped your cheek gently.
"Let’s stop pretending. I want you. Officially."
And that’s how the date you went with a random guy ended up pushing you and Gunil into a real relationship.
The second you whispered "okay… let’s date", something in Gunil snapped — in the gentlest, hungriest way.
He cupped your jaw and kissed you like he’d been holding himself back for months.
Deep, slow, claiming.
His tongue brushed yours and you melted instantly.
Gunil walked you backwards until your back hit your bedroom door.
"Open it," he murmured against your lips.
You fumbled for the handle.
The moment it closed behind you, he had your hips in his hands, lifting you onto the bed with surprising strength.
"Do you know," he breathed against your neck, "how insane you made me tonight?"
Your hands slid into his shirt. "Gunil—"
He bit down gently on your collarbone.
“No talking. I need you to hear this.”
His fingers slid under your thighs, pulling you closer.
"You went on a date with someone else… and all I could think was that I should’ve made you mine earlier."
His hand slipped between your legs, slow and warm.
"You’re only mine, right?"
You nodded breathlessly.
Gunil smirked, lips brushing your ear.
"Good girl." he whispered, sliding his hands around your thighs and hips while he ignored your needy cunt on purpose.
"Now lie back and let me show you exactly what I wanted to do the second I heard you left with another man."
He took his time — fingers, mouth, slow deep strokes, eye contact, praise whispered into your skin — until you couldn’t even remember the name of the guy you’d gone out with.
𐀔 Kim Jungsu
Jungsu didn’t get jealous easily…
Or so he claimed.
But when Jooyeon casually mentioned,
"Hey, I think y/n went on a date tonight,"
Jungsu literally dropped his water bottle.
He tried to act normal, but thirty minutes later he was at your door.
You opened it mid-sigh, removing your earrings from the date.
Jungsu’s eyes narrowed.
"So it’s true."
You frowned. "What?"
"You went on an actual date."
He looked almost offended. "With a guy."
"Last time I checked, dates usually are with guys, Jungsu," you teased, but his expression didn’t change.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"Y/n, why? Did I do something wrong? Did I make you think I didn’t like you?"
Your lips parted.
"You were with that girl the other day…"
"That was a staff stylist," he groaned. "She was asking my hair preferences!"
"Oh."
Jungsu rubbed his face. "I— I got jealous. Like, really jealous. And I hated it."
He reached for your hands, squeezing them firmly.
"I don’t want to just be your ‘buddy you hang out with’. I want to date you."
Your heart flipped.
Then you nodded softly.
“Finally. You're finally my boyfriend.”
His smile lit up the whole hallway.
Once you confirmed your relationship, Jungsu’s whole body relaxed — then tensed again for a completely different reason.
He pushed you gently against the wall, hands on either side of your head.
"Can I kiss you now?"
You nodded.
He didn’t just kiss you — he claimed you.
Jungsu kissed like he had something to prove, like he’d been starving for you. His hands slid under your shirt, trembling slightly, and he groaned when he felt your skin.
"You have no idea," he whispered into your mouth, "how jealous I was."
You tugged him closer, and he let out a low whine — the prettiest sound you’d ever heard.
He lifted your leg around his hip, pressing against you so you could feel exactly how hard he was.
"You drove me crazy, y/n… walking in here all pretty after letting another guy take you out."
His lips trailed down your neck, sucking lightly.
"But you said yes to me. Not him."
His hand slipped inside your waistband.
"I need to feel you say yes again."
Your breath hitched. "Jungsu—"
"What do you want, baby?"
His fingers lowering slowly, teasing, feeling you squirm and arch into him.
"I want you."
His eyes darkened instantly.
"Bedroom. Now." he demanded. "I’m going to take my time with you… until you forget every man’s name except mine."
𐀔 Kwak Jiseok
Jiseok played it cool.
Except he wasn’t cool at all.
When he heard you’d gone on a date, he slammed his phone down so hard Seungmin flinched.
The second you walked into the practice room, Gaon cornered you.
Not touching — just close enough to make your breath hitch.
"Where were you?"
You arched a brow. "Out."
"With him?"
You blinked. "…Gaon, are you jealous?"
His jaw tightened.
"I don’t like seeing you with other men."
You crossed your arms. "We’re not dating."
"Because you keep running away every time I try to get serious with you!"
That… stunned you.
Gaon exhaled sharply, getting closer, his voice lower.
"Y/n, I’ve been crazy about you for months. And thinking of some guy taking you out—"
He shook his head, swallowing hard.
"No. I want you. I want us. Tell me there’s a chance."
You stared up at him, heart pounding.
"There is."
His smirk softened into something warm and relieved.
"Good. Then let’s make it official."
Gaon didn’t give you time to think.
The moment you told him there was a chance — the moment you said you liked him too — he grabbed your waist and kissed you like he’d been waiting all year.
His hands wandered immediately.
He was desperate, messy, breathy — but still gentle when it mattered. Your fingers curled in his shirt without meaning to, pulling him closer, your pulse thundering in your ears.
He pushed you against the practice room couch, lips moving from your mouth to your jaw to the spot under your ear that made your knees weaken.
"Do you know how jealous I was?" he mumbled against your skin.
"How pissed I was thinking about him touching you?"
You moaned softly and he bit your neck just enough to make you gasp.
"Yeah. Exactly like that," he growled, lifting your thighs around his waist.
"I want to be the only one hearing those sounds from you. Only me."
His hands slid under your clothes, fingers digging into your hips as he kissed down your chest.
Then he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes — pupils blown, cheeks flushed, lips swollen.
"I want you so bad it hurts."
You tugged his shirt.
"Then have me."
That was it.
Gaon exhaled sharply, pushed you down into the cushions, and murmured while removing his belt:
"Don’t worry, baby." he said "I’m gonna ruin you… nice and slow… so you never think about anyone else again."
𐀔 Oh Seungmin
O.de heard about your date because Jooyeon is a menace and cannot keep his mouth shut.
When he found out, he did what any emotionally stable man would do:
he sulked for two hours, wrote three unfinished rap verses, and paced the hallway rehearsing what he’d say to you.
When you walked into the dorm, he stood in front of you instantly.
"You went on a date."
It wasn’t a question.
You nodded slowly. "Yes…?"
He stared at you like he was trying to solve a math equation.
"Why him?"
"…Why not him?"
Seungmin clicked his tongue and looked away, shoulders tense.
"So you didn’t think about me? At all?"
Your heart dropped. "I thought you were into that girl you were laughing with."
"What girl—? Y/n, she’s literally my parent's new neighbor. I was greeting her."
"Oh."
He stepped closer.
"Look… I thought we were getting somewhere. You and me. And thinking you might choose someone else— it sucked."
His voice cracked just a little.
You touched his arm gently.
"I wasn’t trying to choose anyone else."
He met your eyes, hope flickering in his.
"Then… can I be your someone?"
You smiled.
"Yeah. You can."
O.de was already emotional from confessing — and now he was emotional in a very different way.
He kissed you the second the words "you can be my someone" left your mouth.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t rushed.
It was hungry.
He backed you into your room, lips never leaving yours, his hands already sliding under your thighs to lift you. You wrapped your legs around him without thinking, and he groaned — a deep, shaky sound you felt everywhere.
He laid you on your bed and hovered over you, breathing hard.
"Y/n… tell me you wanted me like this. Tonight. Before the date."
You nodded breathlessly, but he shook his head.
"I need to hear it."
"I wanted you," you whispered. "I always did."
O.de’s control snapped.
He kissed down your stomach, slow and desperate, as his fingers hooked into your waistband.
"You could’ve come to me," he murmured, lips trailing lower.
"I would’ve taken care of you. Like I'm going to do it now."
He pulled your clothes off with trembling hands, kissing every inch he uncovered.
When his hands finally encountered your dripping cunt, your back arched.
"There," he whispered, voice rough.
"I'm always going to be the only man in your mind."
𐀔 Han Hyeongjun
Junhan acted like he wasn’t affected.
Everyone knew he was affected.
He didn’t talk, didn’t smile, didn’t even practice properly — the minute he heard you were out with another guy, his mood dropped through the floor.
When you returned home, Junhan was already leaning against your doorframe, arms crossed.
"How was the date?"
His tone was calm. Too calm.
You swallowed. "Fine."
"Did you like him?"
You hesitated. "…Why do you care?"
Junhan finally looked you in the eyes — really looked — and the jealousy was unmistakable.
"Because I thought we were something, y/n."
Your breath caught.
"That girl you saw me with— she’s my cousin. I tried to tell you the next day, but you wouldn’t talk to me."
"Oh."
Junhan stepped closer, voice low.
"I don’t want to watch you date someone else. I don’t want anyone else touching what I—"
He stopped himself, ears reddening.
You whispered, "What you… what?"
He exhaled shakily.
"What I want to be mine."
Silence.
Then you smiled softly, stepping closer.
"Then ask properly."
Junhan’s lips curled into that small, shy smile of his.
"Let me be yours, y/n."
You nodded.
Junhan kissed you the moment you said yes — a soft kiss first, almost shy.
Then the second your hands slid up his chest, something changed.
He deepened it instantly.
His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. He groaned quietly — a sound so low and pretty it sent shivers through you.
"Do you know how mad I was when I heard about your date?" he whispered against your lips.
"How angry I got imagining someone else holding you?"
You swallowed, your chest tightening — you'd never seen him look at you like that. "Junhan…"
He brushed his nose against yours, voice barely above a whisper.
"I want you. I want all of you. Can I?"
"Please."
That was all he needed.
He lifted you onto his lap on your bed, fingers grabbing your waist as he kissed down your neck, slow and reverent.
His trembling hands slid under your clothes, tracing the lines of your ribs, your back, your hips, your tits — exploring like he’d been dreaming of this.
"Tell me what you like," he whispered against your skin.
"I want to learn everything."
He moved you against him gently, both of you gasping.
“And I want to make you feel… really, really good tonight.”
The sex was like poetry — slow, warm, deep — whispering your name like a prayer.
𐀔 Lee Jooyeon
Jooyeon is dramatic.
So of course when he heard about your date, he made it everyone’s problem.
He paced.
He ranted.
He threw himself on the couch like a Victorian widow.
"My heart is BROKEN. MY GOD. SHE’S DATING SOMEONE ELSE—"
When you finally arrived home, he was waiting at the entrance with his arms crossed and a pout on his face.
"Where were you?"
You blinked. "Out."
"With HIM?"
"…Yes?"
He stomped toward you.
"I don’t like it."
You tried not to laugh. "Why not?"
"Because you’re supposed to like ME!"
You froze.
"…Jooyeon?"
He grabbed your hands dramatically.
"I thought we were flirting! I thought we had a connection! I thought we were gonna confess at some point— AND THEN YOU GO OUT WITH SOME RANDOM GUY?!"
You snorted. "I thought you were flirting with that girl the other day."
"Girl—? THAT WAS A STAFF NOONA HELPING ME WITH MAKEUP."
"Oh."
Jooyeon huffed. "You’re not allowed to go on dates with other people."
You raised a brow. "Says who?"
"Says ME— your future boyfriend!"
You laughed, cheeks heating. "Future?"
He squeezed your hands.
"…Present, if you want."
You smiled nodding.
Jooyeon lit up like a Christmas tree.
Jooyeon kissed you like he’d been WAITING, like he was mad, relieved, thrilled — all at once.
He pushed you back against the door, hands sliding to your waist as he pressed his forehead to yours.
"Do you know how insane you made me today?"
His breath was hot.
"I was losing my mind thinking about you with him."
You teased, "Are you still mad?"
"Yes," he said, kissing down your neck.
"But I’m more mad that I couldn’t do this earlier."
He grabbed your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the couch.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your heat on his hard, making him moan into your mouth.
"You’re so warm," he whispered.
"So soft. So… mine."
His hands were everywhere — your waist, your thighs, your back, breasts — pulling you as close as possible.
"Tell me you wanted me today," he whispered, kissing your collarbone.
"Tell me you thought about me instead of him."
"I did," you breathed.
Jooyeon smirked darkly.
"Good. Then let your boyfriend show you exactly why you should’ve come home to me in the first place."
He kissed down your body, slow and eager, moaning softly every time you whimpered.
Jooyeon loved it messy — loved your reactions, loved the sounds you made — loved having you wrapped around him while he whispered:
~OT6 x Reader, Reader has a pussy & clit ( but no gendered terms used)
~Warnings: teasing, (implied) overstim, face sitting, oral sex (obviously)
~Age Order, enjoy!
Goo Gunil
I feel like Gunny would savor your taste. He'd eat you out so slow and methodically, so slowly that you could barely take it. But the way he'd sling your thighs over his shoulders and grip your hips until they bruise, you'd have to take it. Maybe it's too much, but maybe he doesn't care, not until he's had his fill.
Kim Jungsu
EYE CONTACT! Jungsu would just love your reactions to him licking and sucking at your clit. If your inner thighs are sensitive, he would absolutely abuse them. Just running his teeth over your sensitive skin and sucking pretty little love bites into your thighs until he can't ignore your heat anymore and he eats you out as you buck up into his mouth.
Kwak Jiseok
Gaon has those beautiful lips and I fully believe that he uses them for EVIL. Where Jungsu sucks on your thighs, I think Gaon would just focus on your clit. When you inevitably buck your hips or grind into his mouth, I see him pulling away and taunting, teasing you. He'd just coo at how desperate you are for his tongue and lips until he can't handle it any more and he just has to make you shake under his lips.
Oh Seungmin
O.de would love tongue and finger fucking you. While you deserve some time focused soley on you, the tightness in his pants as he hears you moan his name would be so distracting. He couldn't help but fill you up with his tongue or fingers. As much as his cock would be begging to fill you up, he couldn't stop fucking you until he tasted you cumming for him.
Han Hyeongjun
I can only picture Junhan eating you out when you're sitting on his face--but oh how he'd love your weight on his chin. He would thankfully, breathlessly eat you out until you were dripping down his chin. He'd just buck his hips into the air and whimper until you decided you were satistified and maybe rode him, as a treat.
Lee Jooyeon
I'll say it: Jooyeon seems very proud of his tongue! I feel like he would take great pride in using it to make you cum over and over and over again, but I think he'd absolutely use it to tease you. He wouldn't restrict it to just between your legs. No, if you were sensitive somewhere, he would use his tongue to coax an orgasm out of you.
A/N: Originally written by tipsy Water, so I am sorry to sober Water and to any readers who caught any typos that sober Water was unable to correct!
C.W! : 18+ / power imbalance / inexperienced reader / mutual pining / softdom!Seungmin / tension heavy / choking / restraint / praise-degradation / needy reader / oral (f!receiving) / protected sex / reader overthinking absolutely everything / Seungmin being dangerously good at reading people!!!!
Oh Seungmin. 23, music student, loved by everyone and their mother… and annoyingly, ridiculously hot. Oh and of course he was standing there, not too far from you- what kind of story would this be if he wasn’t?
The room settled around you in that warm, low-lit way that blurred the edges of everything, thick with layered music and conversation; bodies passing through one another’s proximity with an ease that made it all feel uninterrupted, a slow tidal rhythm that carried the night forward. You sat curled into the corner of a sofa, legs tucked inward as conversation unfolded around you: a small circle gathered around the low table, voices overlapping, laughter rising and falling in waves- still something in you remained slightly offset. Even as you engaged, laughed, nodded and responded, your awareness kept slipping, drawn toward the edges of the room where he lingered, where he stood immersed in some other conversation.
Seungmin had been around for years as a part of your shared circle from those early uni days, back when everything still felt lighter, easier. Self-assured, attentive, intentional, the kind of presence that shaped every room he walked into. Charming to a fault. Tall, broad, relaxed but never careless. Every line of him held in perfect composure. He had always been like that: kind and receptive… and just distant enough to remain untouchable.
Your crush had settled pretty early on, tucked safely beneath layers of restraint and fear you had never quite managed to push through. Your interactions with him always falling short, never closing the distance the way it seemed to happen so easily for everyone else. He had noticed that too and instead of stepping in, he had chosen to stay right there at the edge of it.
That had been fine before. Tonight wasn’t before. Tonight you had come with intention thrumming beneath your ribs, pushing insistently toward movement-toward the possibility of finally crossing a line you had both left untouched for far too long.
As time went by your body adjusted to the rhythm of the room, but just as it started to do so proximity shifted. Seungmin settled nearby, a seat between you. Conversation continued: voices, movement, the steady thread of music… and the awareness of him that sharpened your senses. The first contact came naturally enough to be dismissed: a glass passed across the space between you, offered not from the person closest to you but from him. Your fingers met his lightly and lingered there for a second too long.
“Here.” You looked up when his voice reached you, your thoughts lagging behind the motion, still caught in the echo of his touch as your eyes met his.
“Thanks,” you answered, your voice shaped by embarrassment. You lifted the glass slightly in a hesitant gesture, your head dipping in a nod.
For a moment, his attention settled over you, his gaze moving across your face slowly, taking in the slight delay in your reaction, the shift in your breathing, the way your body hadn’t fully caught up to the moment yet. And just like that, as if nothing happened, he returned to the conversation.
His attention moved where it needed to, his responses aligning with whoever spoke to him, but the shift in energy was undeniable. It was in the way he passed things directly to you, in the way his voice lowered slightly when he spoke toward your side of the couch, his tone shifting to feel more intimate when you were close enough to hear it clearly. Nothing disrupted the flow of the room; but the accumulation of those small moments pressed against your ribs, layering them until the line between coincidence and intention blurred.
You moved closer, angling your body toward him. His gaze fixed on you now. Pulled forward by a sudden rush of want, you leaned in further.
“How do you always do this?”
His head tilted slightly. “Do what?”
“This,” you whispered, your gaze flicking briefly toward the room before returning to him. “Make everything feel like it’s yours.” The implication lingered and so you tried to soften it: a quiet laugh slipping out, your head tilting just enough to blur the edge of it. His gaze didn’t shift.
“People are comfortable here,” he said, calmly. “That’s all.”
“I meant you…” your voice came out softer than intended. “Not the place.”
His gaze traced your face, taking in more than you had meant to offer. “You think too much,” he said, the softness of his tone carrying certainty.
Something in you faltered. “I don’t-”
“You do.” No edge, no force. “You keep trying to stay a step ahead of the moment,” he continued, even quieter, “instead of letting it happen.”
Your body pulled back a fraction, a flicker of a sharp, very-familiar feeling rising under your skin: the quiet discomfort of being seen too clearly. “I’m just-”
“Trying,” he finished. “I know.” His gaze dipped briefly, tracing the tension in your hand around the glass before returning to your face. “But that won’t get you very far here,” he added, sounding a little amused. “You don’t have to work so hard, Y/N.”
You didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really. You stepped away because you had to, your body needing space to reorganize, your mind still caught on him even as you moved through the room.
Your feet had already carried you out of the room before you could make sense of it all. The bathroom door closed behind you and the silence that followed settled heavily over your shoulders, a quiet exhale loosening what you hadn’t realized you were holding. You stood there for a moment, your breath uneven, your body still caught in the echo of him… but even as you tried to ground yourself and calm your galloping heart, that tension remained.
As you reached for the door once again, as you stepped back into the living room, as your gaze lifted in search of something to anchor yourself to- you found him: exactly where you had left him; waiting. His eyes already on you, fixed, as if your return was a given and he had been right there all along, holding the space you had stepped out of.
You froze for a second, your breath catching as your body gave in to the pull of him again.
࿇・
As hours stretched, you began noticing other casualties. He moved behind you at one point, close enough that the warmth of him wrapped around you in a suffocating-but-intoxicating kind of way; the proximity alone felt like the flat edge of a blade held against your skin. His hand brushed yours sometime later, reaching past you for something you hadn’t noticed. Once… and then again and again. Small things. Minimal, really- but they sure carried weight to you.
At some point Seungmin stepped away, out toward the terrace, pulled into another conversation that carried him out of your reach.
Morgan found you as he left. You don’t remember exactly how the conversation began, only the shape it took once it unfolded: her tone light but pointed to land where it needed to. A question about him, about you, about whether anything had happened at all. And you answered… or tried to. Went for something vague enough to satisfy the surface of it but not to hold under her scrutiny. In all honesty, you didn’t know how to explain it: what had happened, what hadn’t, where it shifted, or whether you had imagined any of it… some of it… all of it.
Around you, the night began to wind down. Glasses emptied, voices lowered, people moved in familiar patterns: collecting things, checking phones, drifting toward the edges of departure. The quiet beginning of an ending.
Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass as the thought surfaced- should you do the same? Leave now, step out before anything else had the chance to… what? Continue? Shift? Become something harder to ignore? The thread that had kept you anchored to him through every almost-contact began to stretch, thinning under the reintroduction of everything else, of reality settling back into place, of the recognition that the night existed within a larger sequence of moments that would continue beyond this one.
You stood up.
The motion alone felt heavy, your body carrying the residue of unresolved tension. Your fingers curled around your things with a slight delay, your movements slow, resisting the possibility of an end. With it came the awareness of distance, of stepping out of a space that had grown too charged to ignore; and beneath it, a reluctance: the sense that something hadn’t yet reached its natural conclusion.
You adjusted your grip, shifted your weight, angled your body toward the exit the way the others had begun to do, letting yourself fold back into the collective motion of departure.
Suddenly, a hand closed around your wrist. Your body stilled, suspended in the moment. Slowly, you turned toward the point of contact. Seungmin stood close, his hand still on you, his gaze holding yours steadily, that same quiet attentiveness from earlier now sharpened by the absence of everything else.
“Stay a little longer.” The words fell into place between you with that confidence so particular to him.
Around you, the room continued its unraveling, but it all felt distant now as your focus narrowed entirely to him, to the warmth of his hand against your skin, to the steadiness of his gaze. You knew you could leave; that option remained… but your body didn’t move, because something in the way he held you there made the act of leaving feel heavier than staying.
You felt his thumb move, a small adjustment against your wrist, enough to draw your attention fully into the contact, quieting your noisy mind. Your lips parted slightly, as if to break the heavy silence- but you felt his thumb move again, a single stroke against the inside of your wrist that drew a tight pull low through your center. There it was.
“You feel that?” Your breath caught- you couldn’t answer. His head tilted. “You do,” he said softly, the hint of a smile threading through the words.
Your gaze dropped for a second, pulled toward the point of contact again. “I-” The word stalled. Your throat tightened, your shoulders drawing in just a fraction as something inside you resisted the act of stepping fully into what you knew you wanted.
“You keep trying to think your way through it,” he continued, his thumb shifting again in a slow, absent glide against your skin, drawing you back into the sensation of him rather than the noise of your own thoughts. “You don’t have to.”
“Look at me.”
The words were barely above a whisper and still they settled with discreet authority, leaving no space for you to refuse.
Your eyes lifted slowly, hesitant, as if meeting his gaze too quickly would give too much away. His gaze dropped to your mouth and then back up again.
“You’re not leaving,” he said quietly, a faint curve to his voice. “Come with me, pretty,” he continued, his words intimate, carrying direction within them. His hand adjusted at your wrist, turning you to guide you through the now-quiet space until the edge of the kitchen counter came into view. “Can you sit for me?”
You didn’t hesitate. There was something disarming in it: in the certainty of him, in the way his attention never pressed and still never wavered, in the way he made space for you to move while shaping the direction of it all the same… and you felt yourself give under it in ways you hadn’t expected, hadn’t prepared for.
He remained close, the line of his body aligning with yours - your attention shifting to the way you were now seated and he wasn’t, to the way you had to look up at him standing tall in front of you. His hand left your wrist, his fingers trailing to make the absence apparent.
“Comfortable like this, pretty? Do you need anything else?” The question almost too gentle.
Your lips parted, your mind reached for something to say but it didn’t come fast enough, your thoughts still trailing behind everything else going on. “You-” you started, then stopped, your voice catching before forcing the rest of it out. “What is this, Seungmin… what are we even doing?” There. Not exactly what you meant to say, but better than nothing… or so you thought.
His eyes sharpened at that, like the question had given him something to work with. “What do you think this is?” he asked, turning it back on you.
“I don’t-” You stopped again, because saying it out loud felt like too much. Because he was right there, holding the moment steady in a way that made it impossible to blur.
“Say it,” he said, the words placed between you in a way that left no space for you to retreat. “Come on, doll, say it. I know you can.”
Your gaze dropped before lifting back to him slowly. “I just-” Once more, the words stalled, your voice giving out under the weight of it all.
“Still thinking?” he said almost to himself, though it landed squarely on you, his tone laced with amusement. “You’ve been doing that all night.” His gaze moved down your face again. “Hasn’t gotten you very far, now, has it?”
Your lips pressed together, frustration and embarrassment flickering across your expression before your eyes dropped at your feet, unable to look at him.
He moved closer then. You felt the way his presence filled the space as he stepped around the corner of the counter. A brief brush- his chest against your back. Then his hand found the stool and with an easy motion he turned it. Your body followed, the room shifting with you until you were facing him fully.
His hands came down on either side of you, palms settling against the counter now behind you, bracketing you in, the space between your bodies narrowing, his frame closing around you in a way that had your pulse jumping under your skin as your head lifted to meet his gaze. You were framed, positioned exactly where he wanted you.
“You don’t have to get it right, pretty,” he said softly, his voice deep and slow, leaning in just enough that his breath brushed your lips. “You just have to try.” He paused there at the edge of you, before dipping closer, his voice lowering further, intimate, meant only for you. “Can you try for me, doll?”
Your throat tightened. “I…” The word came out softer than you intended, barely there, your body already leaning into him, your breath brushing his as the rest of it slipped out. “I want you, Seungmin- I’ve wanted you for so… so long. I-” You faltered, your voice unsteady. “I don’t want to think about it anymore… I just-” another break, your fingers tightening faintly around nothing. “Please… please- can you do something about it?”
His gaze dropped to your mouth, lingering. And when it lifted again there was no mistaking it. A small grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, unmistakably pleased. “Took you long enough,” he whispered, a hint of amusement threading through it. “I was starting to think you’d make me work for it.”
His hand moved to your face, his thumb tracing the faintest line along your lower lip as if testing your hunger- confirming what he already knew, before settling on your jaw. Your lips parted under his touch, your head tipping up toward him, your neck stretching instinctively in a quiet offering. He watched the way your gaze shifted- softer, wider, open in a way that gave you away entirely, all of your desire there, exposed for him to see.
For once, his breath caught. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough to hold you in place. “Do you really think you’re the only one who’s been watching from a distance?” His voice dipped. “Do you even know what you do to me, bunny?”
His words only pulled you further in. Your gaze dropped to his mouth this time, your breath uneven, your body already closing the distance in small increments. The difference this time was that he didn’t stop you, didn’t pull back, didn’t interrupt it. He met you there.
The first contact was soft, barely there, a brush more than a kiss. The closeness of him sent a shiver through you. He deepened it then, his hand shifting to angle you further, guiding you into it as his lips pressed more firmly against yours- the pace entirely his, impossible not to follow. He didn’t rush it, if anything, he slowed it further, drawing it out, letting the pressure build instead of break.
Then he paused, pulling back just a fraction, your lips parting as you chased the contact. His eyes met yours and there it was again, that same knowing look that made your chest flutter all over again. “Is that how you like to be kissed, pretty?” he said softly, the faintest edge of teasing threading through it.
The moment he leaned in again, you met him halfway. This time there was no testing, your lips found his with more urgency than before. Instead of returning to your jaw, his thumb settled beneath your chin, tilting it up, stretching your neck toward him, making it easier to reach you. “Easy,” he murmured against your mouth, not quite breaking the contact. “Don’t rush me.”
But his words didn’t slow you- they unraveled you. Your breath caught against his, your shoulders softening even further as you gave under it, under him, one of your hands lifting, needing to feel him, hovering for a second before settling against his chest, testing whether you were allowed to touch him back. A tiny exhale left him and you took it as approval, his hand shifting from your jaw just enough to let you move but not quite enough to let you take control.
“You’ve been thinking about this,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours again, dragging the contact. “Haven’t you?” His head tilted to catch your lips again. “Cat got your tongue?” he added, the irony unmistakable, almost laughing at the way you gave yourself away. And then his hand moved- to your throat this time, his fingers closing to hold you in place as he pulled back, creating space only so you could feel the absence of him.
“Answer me.”
You didn’t know if you could, because the way he kissed you just now felt like he already knew the answer and was pulling it out of you all the same, piece by piece, breath by breath.
“I have,” you whispered, breathless as the rest slipped out, uneven, pleading. “I’ve been thinking about it- about you… for so long.” Your voice wavered, a faint strain threading through it. “For so long, Seungmin… please,”
Your hand slid slightly higher against his chest, your body pressing just a fraction closer, drawn in by what you knew you couldn’t stop. You felt him pull away, but you couldn’t let him this time, and so you moved to catch him again, your body leaning forward toward the space he had just left; that earned a different reaction from him. A small, sharp curve at the corner of his mouth.
“Look at you,” he said, pleased. “All that thinking, all that doubting… and this is all it takes for you to give in?”
“Tell me what you want.”
Your breath hitched under his gaze once more, like it had all night. “I want you,” you said, forcing the words out. “I want you, Seungmin, so take me.” your eyes flickering over his face, giving yourself away completely. “I want you.”
You saw it then, the smallest break in him: something tightening in his gaze as your words landed, his jaw setting before he smoothed it over. His thumb pressed harder against your skin. “Yeah,” his voice thick, dragging enough to let you feel it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that come out of those pretty lips.”
His hand slid from your jaw to your wrist again to draw you closer, into him, into the heat of him, close enough that you didn’t need him to say it out loud to understand. Your hand landed against his bulge, pulling a heavy exhale from his chest. “That’s all you,” he said, almost absent for a second, like he was letting himself feel it. His gaze landed back on you. “Every bit of it.”
He leaned in once more for a brief playful kiss that brushed your lips and lingered just long enough to make your head spin. “Wanna go upstairs, doll?” he asked against your mouth, the question careless in tone.
You just nodded and it was enough. His mouth curved into a languid smile as he moved, his hands finding your waist and settling there before guiding you off the stool and forward; your body following, pliant under his direction.
Once you were standing and moving, his hand slipped from your waist to your abdomen, spreading there, large enough to span it completely. His touch drew a soft, unsteady sound out of you and he caught it, his head dipping briefly to press into the curve of your neck, breathing you in for a second before placing a small lingering kiss there.
The space around you faded as the movement carried you both out of the kitchen and into the hallway, the rest of the night dissolving behind you. The walk itself blurred into light touches, quiet laughter, the occasional brush of his hand keeping you there, in the moment with him.
At his room’s door, he stepped in close once more, his body aligning behind yours as one hand settled at your hip while the other reached past you, around you, to the doorknob, his chest brushing your back again as he pushed the door open. He let you step in first.
The room greeted you in lower light than the rest of the house as you stepped inside, your gaze drifting briefly over the space- his desk, the keyboard, scattered pictures on the wall, pieces of him you hadn’t seen before. You felt his eyes on you, so you turned your head slightly over your shoulder to find him there, still leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, one shoulder pressed back into it, that same crooked smile resting on his mouth.
You turned slowly then, your weight settling into one hip, your arms folding loosely at your waist, a shy smile pulling at your lips as your head tilted. “So…” you started, “are you coming or what?” it came out almost teasing.
He just watched you for a second longer, a small nod following as his hand reached back without looking, pushing the door closed in one smooth motion. His hands found your hips easily, settling there as he drew closer. He paused when your noses touched, letting you feel his breath ghosting your lips.
“Hi,” he whispered, playful, soft enough to catch you off guard, pulling a little laugh from you- and then he kissed you.
His lips pressed firmly against yours as his hands moved, sliding from your hips to the edge of your waist before slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, his touch warm against your skin as it traveled upward. Your body responded instantly, arching into him, closing whatever distance remained as his hands moved only to trace the same path once more.
The rhythm between you changed with that kiss, your steps adjusting as he moved you with him, back… back until the edge of the bed met the back of your legs. You barely registered it before his hands started pulling at the fabric of your shirt as you lifted your arms out of instinct, letting him take it off you.
The change in position threw you off balance, sending you back onto the bed, your gaze lifting immediately to him as you landed, to the way he stood above you now, even taller from this angle, broader. The dim light of the room catching along the lines of his body as he reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion.
From where you lay, everything about him felt… amplified. His height, his messy hair, the line of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his shoulders set, the definition of his muscles under the low light, the faint shadow tracing along the lines of his torso, the subtle pull of ink along his ribs that catched your attention.
A smile pulled at his mouth as he looked down at you. “Like what you see, doll?” the hint of a laugh threading through his voice. His gaze dragged over you in return, taking you in the same way you had just taken him in.. “I know I do,” his teeth catching lightly on his lower lip for a brief second, before he stepped closer again.
The realization hit you all at once, cutting through everything that had been building until then. Your hands came up in an instant, pressing against his abdomen to stop him. “Wait,” your voice tightened as your eyes searched his face. “I- I have to tell you something first… just- don’t get mad, okay?” your fingers curling against him.
That stopped him completely, confusion breaking through first, his brows drawing together as he looked down at you. “Why would I-” he started but cut himself off, something in your tone already telling him this wasn’t nothing. “What is it?”
“I’ve never…” you started, your gaze dropping briefly before lifting back to his. “I’ve never… done this before.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he steadied himself again, his hand coming up to drag once over the back of his neck as he exhaled softly, still looking at you. “You’re-” he stopped, recalibrating. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” There was no anger in it, just confusion.
“I didn’t think I was going to have to,” you admitted, your gaze faltering for a second. Your lips pressed together as embarrassment flickered across your expression before you looked back up at him.
His whole demeanor softened at that, the tension easing from his shoulders as his hand came down again to settle over yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, and this time it was a real question, all traces of teasing gone. “Are you sure you want this… with me?”
“Yeah- yes!” It came out faster than anything else had that night, your eyes lifting fully to his, wide. “I’m sure,” you added. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this… about us. About this exact moment.”
He held your gaze for a second longer, as if making sure, before his expression eased again. “Okay,” he murmured carefully. His thumb brushed once more against your skin as his gaze dipped briefly to your mouth before lifting back to your eyes. “Okay,” he repeated, even softer this time.
His hands came down on the bed on either side of your head, pressing you further into the mattress as he leaned in. His mouth found the line of your neck, his lips brushing, pressing, lingering there. He let the moment build slowly, allowing you to feel every shift of him, every point of contact. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he whispered against your skin, the words half-breathed, half-spoken. “So, so good…” He traced a slow path down your throat to your collarbone and down your chest with soft, open-mouthed kisses.
He paused. He lifted his head just slightly to look at you again- and there it was, that cocky smile, his half-lidded eyes moving over your face, taking in the way you looked beneath him. “Is that what you pictured me saying?” the corner of his mouth lifted just a little more as he tilted his head, getting closer to your skin without breaking eye contact. “In your little fantasy world?”
Your hands moved to his back, drawn by the need to feel him, but he caught you before you could touch him. One of his hands wrapped around both of your wrists with ease, guiding them up to pin them above your head against the mattress in one smooth motion.
He leaned in again, his voice dropping as his lips brushed near your ear, your jaw, never quite settling in one place long enough to let you fully anticipate it. “Let me do this for you, baby,” the words warm against your skin. “All you have to do is relax. Can you do that for me, doll? Hm?”
Your head tipped back instinctively as his mouth moved lower, your chest rising as the sensation hit you harder than you expected. His tongue traced a slow line from the hollow of your collarbone up toward your jaw before dipping down again, the path broken into soft, connected kisses, the wet sound of them filling the space between your breaths. His eyes never left you, measuring the way your expression shifted, the way your body gave itself away to him in real time.
Your mind had gone hazy under the weight of it all, so you didn’t notice him moving lower and lower over your chest- until the warmth of his tongue met the black lace separating him from your bare skin. Your eyes widened as you looked down at him, just as his mouth closed over the damp spot he left behind over your clothed nipple, his lips sealing there as he drew a soft pull.
It pulled a broken moan from you, your fingers twitching where they were still held above your head, your back arching beneath him. A satisfied hum left him at that, his mouth not quite leaving you as he tested the reaction again, like he was learning you.
“There you go…”
His free hand moved then, dragging slowly across your chest before slipping beneath the edge of the fabric, closing around your bare breast with a firm, instinctive squeeze. His thumb found the neglected nipple, circling it slowly before pressing into it.
You couldn’t stay still.
Your brows drew together as a quiet, strained sound slipped past your lips, your thighs tightening around him, pulling him closer, chasing the contact, the pressure, the friction. Your hips rolled against his, searching for some kind of release from the tension building inside you.
Your wrists strained faintly in his hold, your body caught between the need to feel him everywhere and the way he kept you exactly where he wanted you. “Easy, baby” he saod firmly, his grip adjusting slightly.
But you didn’t stop. Couldn’t. “Fuck-” the word slipped out, your voice thin, head falling back further as the sensation built again. “Do that again, please-”
He didn’t give you time to recover. His mouth found you again, his lips brushing, pressing, kissing, sucking, lingering as he repeated the motion, his tongue tracing slow, wet circles before dipping back in, nuzzling into you, his face dragging softly against your skin while his nose pressed in just enough to send a new wave of sensation through you.
His mouth went trailing across you as his hands moved, slipping beneath the fabric of your bra and pushing it aside until there was nothing left in the way. He moved to the opposite side then, his lips brushing first, testing, before he closed his mouth over you, sucking gently while keeping his gaze fixed on yours. The faint brush of his teeth sent a sharper shiver through you, the shift in pressure pulling a loud sound from your throat.
“Yeah…” he whispered against your skin, voice thick as his mouth returned to you again. “That’s it, baby… let me hear you.”
His mouth didn’t leave you immediately, but when it did it was slow, trailing down your body. For a second- just a second, he paused, hovering, almost tempted to return to where he had been before, his mouth ghosting back up slightly to press a light kiss against your bare skin and taking a playful bite out of it; a smile pulling at his lips.
His attention dropped again, his lips pressing along your stomach and drifting lower, soft kisses broken by teasing pressure, enough to make your breath hitch as he took his time with it. The sensation built gradually, settling lower, your breath catching as he reached your lower abdomen.
His grip shifted and your wrists were released. “Stay,” the word settled into you as his hands moved, sliding down your sides, over your hips, and then further- his fingers tightening as they found you, spreading wide, firm, the pressure of them unmistakable as they settled over your flesh, holding you exactly where he wanted you, the imprint of his grip still on your skin.
Then he pulled back enough to take you in properly, shifting upright on his knees where they still rested against the mattress. From where he was, you looked almost unreal: hair spread out beneath you, eyes wide, expectant, glassy at the edges, lips parted, swollen from his mouth, your cheeks flushed deep with color. Your hands had fallen loosely to either side of your head, your body open beneath him, the bare skin of your chest and tummy marked in soft traces where his mouth had been before. The fabric of the skirt at your hips sat careless, your legs parted just enough to accommodate him, the contrast of dark lace against your skin drawing his attention lower, where the evidence of your arousal had begun to show, subtle but impossible to miss: a wet patch slowly spreading with each of his touches.
“Fuck…” he muttered low, the word slipping out of him like water. “Look at you… you’re fucking perfect, baby” his voice rough. His thumb traced a slow line down your navel to your clothed slit, pressing there, dragging lightly over your clit before dipping just beneath the fabric, enough to feel the heat of you. He bit his lower lip at the sight of it. “I barely touched you…” his breath caught faintly like he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.
He leaned over you again, this time shifting his weight as he moved down the length of your body, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of your hips as your legs fell naturally along his sides. His mouth found you again, pressing back into your skin as if he needed to feel it, to lose himself in it. He moved further down, his experienced hands guiding you to get you exactly how he wanted. His mouth followed, pressing along the inside of your thighs, kisses slow and sloppy, drifting higher, then back again, never quite giving you what you wanted.
A quiet breath of amusement slipped from him as he heard you getting louder and louder; barely a laugh, but you felt it- warm against your core. He stayed there for a second too long, his nose brushing lightly as he inhaled.
Your body tensed, then melted, your back arching, your breath catching high in your chest as a helpless sound slipped desperately past your lips. “Please…” your voice faltered. “I can’t think-just… please! I need you.”
He dragged his face along your thigh, moving toward your center, brushing you with his nose before pressing into you with it, inhaling deeply, hungrily. His mouth parted instinctively at the reaction your body gave him, immediate and impossible to hide, his expression mirroring yours as he followed the movement of your body against the bed, drawing you back into him. Your fingers tangled in the sheets as your head lifted slightly from the mattress, pulled by the need to see him there, buried in you. Your hands found him quickly, sliding through his hair before tightening at the roots, tugging once before pressing him closer, guiding him back into your warmth.
With eager hands, he took hold of each side of your panties and slid them down your legs until they were completely gone. Then he paused- long enough to let it settle, to let you feel the absence of him, only to fill the empty space with the warm moisture of his tongue, blending indulgently with your own. He licked a strip up and then down your clothed cunt, drawing his tongue back into his mouth as if to savor you. A broken sound left you at that, your hips shifting- chasing him.
But just when you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, he pulled away abruptly, lifting himself back onto his knees, settling on his heels. When your eyes opened to protest, you were met with his darkened gaze already waiting for you, a crooked, dangerous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes traced the lines of your body, his tongue dragging slowly over his lips, leaving them glistening under the low light. When his gaze returned to yours, he tilted his head back slightly as he whispered, “Touch yourself, doll. Show me how you like it.”
Caught off guard by his words, somewhere between the chaos of sensation and the noise in your head you decided it was the perfect moment to let go, to show him how much you wanted this, to prove that whatever restraint had once held you back was long gone.
Maintaining eye contact, your hand slid over your body, your palm curved against your skin as you moved from your neck down to your chest, where you took one of your breasts firmly in your hand, squeezing, the soft flesh spilling between your fingers. Your lips parted at the sensation, a small sound slipping out- quiet enough to go unnoticed by anyone else, but not by him.
Across from you, Seungmin’s hand moved too, sliding slowly over his bare torso, mirroring you. “Yeah… that’s it, doll. Just like that. Take your time.”
Encouraged by his words, your hand continued its path, drifting down your stomach to the soft curve below, before slipping further into the warmth of your center. Your fingers pressed there at your clit, insistent, drawing a shiver through your body. Your lower lip caught between your teeth as you fought to keep your eyes open, to stay with him, even as pleasure began to blur the edges of everything with your fingers moving in slow small circles.
It didn’t help seeing him slide his hand into his pants, freeing himself, the denim slipping lower along his hips as he exposed himself fully. “Is this how you touch yourself when you think about me, baby? Yeah? Say my name.”
His hand wrapped around his shaft, moving lazily, the sight of it pulling a louder sound from you despite yourself, ignoring his command. “Come on, doll… say it. Say my name.”
You couldn’t ignore him a second time; not when the tension had begun to coil low in your body, your movements turning erratic, your fingers slipping into uneven, desperate patterns. “Seunghh-Seungmin, fuck- Seungmin, please…”
Even as your eyes fell closed, you could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. “That’s it, baby… say it again, louder. Spread yourself for me, doll… let me see that dripping cunt.”
His name kept falling from your lips over and over again in a constant plea, as your free hand slid against the sheets, moving to spread yourself further, giving him a clear view of everything your fingers were doing. “So fucking beautiful… fuck- eyes on me, pretty.”
With his free hand, unable to hold himself back a second longer, he slid along one of your legs until he reached your center, his finger curving just enough to gather some of your fluids before bringing it back up, offering it to your mouth. “Open up, doll.”
Lost in the constant pull of sensation you took him in, your lips parting as you drew his finger in, hollowing your cheeks slightly as you tasted yourself. His body followed, leaning back over you, his face coming close, head tilting as he searched for your lips. “Can I taste you now, pretty?” he whispered against your mouth before closing the distance, his lips finding yours, his tongue slipping inside, inviting yours to meet it.
His finger, still slick, returned to your cunt, testing your hole slowly while he kept you occupied with his mouth, careful not to overwhelm you. He traced slow circles there, pressing gently with each pass. Your body shuddered beneath his touch, arching into him, small sounds slipping from your mouth into his.
In response, he pressed deeper, his finger easing inside you, curling slightly as he moved. “What a good girl” he murmured against your lips, still guiding you with the rhythm he’d set, his attention flicking briefly to the way you responded before returning to you fully. “That’s it…” he added under his breath, keeping the pace slow and steady. “You’re doing so well, baby”
His gaze lifted to meet yours for a moment (watching, checking) before dropping again. “Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” he said more quietly this time, the edge in his voice softening for a moment. Then he pulled back slightly, only to press in again, adding another finger slowly, stretching you while also giving you time to adjust. “But it isn’t, is it?” his voice dipped. “You can take it… can’t you, doll?”
Time blurred after that. That was until he pulled back again, his hand easing away and his attention lifting back to you, satisfaction settling into his expression. “Think you’re ready, doll,” he said before shifting his weight, moving up along you, his knees settling into the mattress as he leaned back just enough to run a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face, that same slow smile pulling at his mouth again.
This time, his body stretched in the opposite direction, his fingers brushing along the surface of the nightstand until they found what he was looking for. The small foil packet landed somewhere near you, forgotten for the moment as his attention returned to you fully.
His movements slowed after that, his hands drifting to his own clothes, undoing them before he pushed himself up just enough to step out of them completely. His gaze never quite left yours, still taking you in.
“Wanna touch?” he asked low, the question softer than the ones before. “Get the full experience.”
Your hand moved in his direction, tentative at first, hovering for a second before settling around his base, your gaze lifting to find his, searching for reassurance that you were doing it right. When he answered with a playful wink and that same crooked smile, you started moving up and down along him.
Gradually, your hand ventured higher, your thumb pressing lightly at the tip, tracing slow, absent circles before wrapping your fingers around him again.
The reaction it pulled from him was delicious, his head tipping back as a quiet sound slipped from him, his hand coming down over yours, guiding it, adjusting, closing your grip just enough to show you how he liked it.
“Yeah…” he exhaled. “Just like that…”
His hand slipped yours away eventually, his body moving before returning to you, positioning himself between your legs once more. His hands found the bed again, bracketing you in as he leaned down, his mouth returning to yours in a kiss that felt different from the ones before- slow, deep, hungry; as pulling you back from the edge just enough to steady you.
One of his hands moved again, reaching for what he had set aside earlier, his attention splitting only briefly before returning to you. He took his time opening the little package and slid the condom down his cock before settling back into place.
He didn’t hurryt. His gaze lifted to yours as he leaned in, close enough for his breath to brush your lips again. “Ready?” he whispered.
The moment came gradually, his body aligning with yours as he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, his breath uneven as he guided you through it- every movement measured, controlled, giving you time to adjust, to feel it without being completely overwhelmed. Slowly, he let himself sink into you, showering you with kisses and light touches in the process.
Your body tensed instinctively, your fingers curling as your head fell back into the pillows, your breath catching in a way that made him pause- made him still completely.
“Hey… easy, baby. I've got you.” he murmured softly, his lips brushing yours between words. “Relax for me, bunny… yeah, that’s it.” He didn’t move, just stayed there, letting you settle, his hand coming up to your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, careful now in a way he hadn’t needed to be before. “You’re doing so good, baby…” he whispered quietly. “So, so good… You’re so warm and tight- fuck, you’re perfect. My perfect doll.”
Only when your breathing evened did he move again, the first motion barely there, more of a little shift than anything else, his mouth returning to yours in soft kisses, giving you something to hold onto as everything else built beneath it. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he said against your lips.
But it wasn’t and he could feel it. His rhythm changed because of it, each movement building on the last as your body responded more easily now, less tense, more open, softer sounds slipping past your lips as your hands finally found somewhere to hold onto him, to feel him fully this time.
Something in him loosened, his control bending just slightly, his breath growing heavier as he leaned into it more; voice slipping between uneven exhales. “Fuck…” he breathed. “Feels too good, baby, can’t stop- can’t”
His hands moved again, repositioning you, making it easier to go deeper, his mouth returning wherever he could reach (your lips, your jaw, your neck) never letting the contact break for too long.
“Look at me,” he said at some point, his hand finding your face again, holding you there with him. And when it built- when it really built you felt it everywhere. “Let go, baby.”