warnings … fem reader, non game au, and a few are maybe ooc?
lovely notes … two posts in two days, we rejoice again!
꩜ [ 855 words ]
se-mi / player 380 is the polar opposite of you. while you’re timid, she’s a very assertive woman who isn’t apprehensive about expressing herself.
if needed, she’d speak up or defend you from someone without a second thought. she often finds herself doing simple things like ordering your food for you or speaking for you in awkward social settings.
she finds your timidness cute at times, like when you shy away from her compliments.
“hey, you look pretty with your hair down.”
“oh, thank you se-mi. it looks, like, average.”
“be honest, you look stunning with it down. you should wear it like that more, pretty.”
the way she was able to fluster you every time will never get old to her. she loved to say flirty things for the hell of it, and to of course catch you off guard.
she has a habit of including you in whatever conversation she’s having, whether she realizes she’s doing it or not. it’s more of a subconscious doing of hers. though, she knows when and when to not drag you into discussions of hers.
she hates to see someone targeting you, especially if they know your shy personality. she steps in without a second thought to handle the situation for you.
sae-byeok / player 067 is alike to you in many ways. she never makes an effort to put herself out there unless completely necessary.
in social situations, she doesn’t mind stepping in and doing most of the communication for you.
she’s the first to defend you if someone tests you, because how dare someone come to you when they’re aware of your timidness? especially in her presence?
“hey, i got you. lemme know if they say something to you again.”
“it’s fine. i can handle my own, sae-byeok.”
“mhm. you better tell me.”
she coaxes you to keep to yourself rather than speak out. weirdly enough, she likes being the only person you trust enough to be vocal around. she likes the dependency.
no-eul / guard 011 doesn’t exactly lack courage or confidence, she just isn’t an outspoken woman. she keeps to herself most of the time, similar to you.
similar to se-mi, she likes to fluster you at every waking moment. she enjoys seeing the bashful look on your face whenever she constantly compliments you.
while she encourages you to speak up for yourself more often than not, she doesn’t mind stepping in for you.
“hey, defend yourself next time.”
“i was planning to. you just.. beat me to it.”
“whatever you say.”
she knows how you struggle to express yourself, but she teases you nonetheless. it’s all in good faith, though. she knows when you’ve reached your limits.
jun-hee / player 222 is similar to you in numerous ways. while she isn’t exactly timid, she doesn’t find herself speaking out in a lot of situations.
if it comes down to it, she’ll speak for you without a doubt. but if she knows you can handle your own, she’d leave you to it.
she frequently teases you for how bashful you are, as if she isn’t so similar to you.
“you’re so shy, so quiet.”
“jun-hee, please shut up.”
“oh, so she does speak?”
the two of you can often sit in silence for hours on end, basking in the presence of one another. you don’t speak many words because the solace between you two is more than enough.
she’s the perfect person to be around if you find serenity in quiet rather than deafening settings.
ji-yeong / player 240 is a bright difference from you. she’s very bubbly, outspoken, and animated.
you two look like an unlikely couple, like opposites that people wouldn’t expect to be together. but ji-yeong is adamant about the idea that opposites attract.
if needed, she can always speak up for you. as odd as it sounds, she enjoys speaking up for you when you’re in a non-verbal state.
“hey, want me to speak for you?”
“ji-yeong, as much as i love you, i need to speak up for myself.”
“okay.. but please take me up on my offer in the future.”
she feels a sort of protectiveness around you. given you’re her partner, but especially with your shy nature. it’s like a need to shield you from anything and anyone.
hyun-ju / player 120 is quite the contrast, as she was never really nervous or bashful. she asserts herself in most circumstances, unlike yourself.
she stands up for you without hesitation, mainly because she knows firsthand what it’s like to be belittled by others.
she’s been in so many situations in which others have degraded her so she knows how to deal with it easily.
“come to me if they say something else to you, yeah?”
“of course. thank you so much, hyun-ju. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
“don’t mention it.”
even though it’s hard to believe, you’re able to fluster her rather than the other way around. any lovey-dovey thing you say has her gone.
she enjoys sitting in silence with you, just like jun-hee. comfortable tranquility with someone she cherishes cannot be beaten.
This is simply and merely a personal impression, it's just interesting to me that how Will looks the most beautiful (and not handsome) when he fully embraces his nature, and how Hannibal looks the most beautiful when he's in love.
They both are handsome men, always. But there are some moments where they have some sort of divine beauty.
synopsis: thanos wants a new hair color, and you pick out the best one for him!
namgyu version linked here
thanos sits on the carpet in front of the couch, his head resting in your lap as he scrolls through his phone. you’re sprawled on the couch with his head in between your legs.
you can hear him, very lightly, muttering rap lyrics under his breath.
the rapper's nails, painted a vibrant pink from last week’s impromptu spa night, catch the light as he taps the screen.
“baby, i’m thinkin’ purple next,” he says, voice with some type of playful swagger he’s always got.
it is the kind that made you fall for him back when you first saw him around club pentagon.
thanos looked all cocky and loud, but he is secretly a softie.
thano's green hair, faded from weeks of wear, sticks out in wild tufts, and you can’t help but grin at the thought of him having a new color.
“purple, huh?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair, “you're gonna look like a grape.”
he chuckles, turning to look up at you, his eyes glinting with mischief, “señorita, thanos is purple. this just seals the deal.”
su-bong is referring to the marvel character thanos.
he grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles, and you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest. he’s always like this...silly, dramatic, but so damn sweet it makes your heart ache.
you drag him to the bathroom, where you’ve set up a makeshift hair-dye station on the counter.
a bottle of vibrant purple dye, gloves, a mixing bowl, a brush, and a towel that’s seen better days.
thanos plops down on the edge of the bathtub, kicking his legs like a kid, already humming some beat he’s probably cooking up for his next album.
“yo, baby, you sure you know what you’re doin’?” he asks, smirking as you pull on the gloves, “i’m trustin’ you not to make me look like a clown.”
“please,” you scoff, tying an old t-shirt around his shoulders to protect his clothes, “i’m an artist. you’re gonna look like a masterpiece.”
he laughs, loud and unfiltered, and pulls you closer by the waist, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you swear your knees go weak.
you mix the dye, the sharp chemical smell filling the air as you stir the vibrant purple goop. thanos watches, fascinated, like it’s some kind of science experiment.
“that’s gonna be on my head?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“yup,” you say, dipping the brush in, “ready to be the flyest rapper in seoul?”
he grins, showing off his teeth, “born ready, sweetheart.”
you start sectioning his hair, the green strands soft under your fingers as you work the purple dye in. thanos is surprisingly still, though he can’t resist making goofy faces in the mirror every time you glance up.
“you lookin’ real serious, baby,” he says, mimicking your focused expression.
“this is high art, su-bong,” you retort, smearing dye across a chunk of his hair in the middle.
he snorts, muttering something about how you’re the only one allowed to call him that.
the purple starts to take, turning his faded green locks into a bold, electric hue.
you’re careful, making sure every strand is coated, but thanos keeps leaning into your touch, like he’s soaking up the attention more than the dye.
“you’re too good to me,” he says softly, catching your wrist as you work.
the rapper's voice is quieter now, that rare vulnerable side peeking through, and you pause to lean down, kissing his forehead without getting the purple on your face.
“only 'cause you deserve it,” you whisper, and he smiles, all soft and smitten. the man's painted nails tapping a rhythm on the tub’s edge.
halfway through, your phone buzzes on the counter, se-mi’s name flashing on the screen.
you groan, knowing it’s probably another crisis about her girlfriend.
“don’t answer it,” thanos whines, grabbing for your hand, but you’re already reaching for the phone, putting it on speaker.
“se-mi, what’s up?” you ask, trying to keep the dye brush steady.
“y/n, she’s driving me insane!” se-mi’s voice crackles through, loud and dramatic.
“she keeps leaving dishes in the sink after I fucking told her to clean up after herself, and—” thanos rolls his eyes so hard you’re worried they’ll get stuck.
“yo, se-mi, can you chill for, like, ten minutes? i’m in the middle of a glow-up here!” he calls, voice dripping with impatience.
you stifle a laugh, nudging him to stay still as you work on the back of his head.
se-mi ignores him, ranting on about her girlfriend’s weaponized incompetence.
thanos starts fidgeting, drumming his nails louder on the tub.
“baby, c’mon,” he mutters, shooting you a pout, “this is our time.” you mouth an apology, trying to focus on both the dye and se-mi’s meltdown.
“se-mi, just talk to her calmly,” you say, spreading more purple across thanos’ hair. he huffs, crossing his arms like a sulky kid, but when you lean down to kiss the top of his head, he melts a little, muttering, “fine, but you owe me, señorita.”
once the dye saw on his head for fourty-five minutes, you lead thanos to the tub to rinse it out.
he’s all grins again, the impatience forgotten as he kneels by the tub, head tilted back under the faucet.
you turn on the cool water, and purple dye starts streaming out, swirling in the tub like some chaotic watercolor painting.
“damn, it’s like a crime scene in here,” thanos laughs, splashing water at you.
you yelp, flicking water back, and soon you’re both giggling, the tub turning into a purple-stained disaster.
the dye keeps running, staining the porcelain of the bathtub and splattering the tiles. you grab the showerhead, trying to aim it at his hair, but thanos keeps shaking his head like a dog, sending purple droplets flying.
“su-bong, stop!” you laugh, grabbing his face to hold him still.
he smirks, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch, water dripping down his face.
“you’re so cute when you’re bossy,” he says.
you roll your eyes, heart fluttering as you rinse the last of the dye out.
when you finally turn off the water, the tub looks like a modern art project gone wrong. purple streaks coat the sides, and there’s dye on the floor, the towel, even a few specks on your shirt.
“we’re never getting our deposit back,” you groan, but thanos just laughs, pulling you into his lap on the bathroom floor.
“worth it,” he says, kissing your nose.
your boyfriend's hair is still damp, the purple vibrant and bold, and you can’t stop running your fingers through it, marveling at how good it looks.
“you like it?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s posing for a photoshoot.
“love it,” you say, and he beams, wrapping his arms around you.
“that’s all i need to hear, señorita.”
you stay like that for a moment, his wet hair dripping onto your shoulder, the bathroom a mess but your heart full.
your phone goes off in a jingle again, se-mi’s name lighting up the screen.
thanos groans dramatically, flopping back against the tub.
“this girl’s got the worst timing,” he grumbles, but you’re already answering, putting her on speaker again.
“y/n, she’s saying i’m overreacting!” se-mi wails, and thanos throws his hands up, his painted nails flashing.
“se-mi, you’re killin’ me! i’m tryna have a moment with my girl here!”
you laugh, trying to calm se-mi down while thanos starts rapping under his breath, something about “purple hair, don’t care, just leave us alone, se-mi.”
you nudge him, mouthing for him to behave, but he just leans in to kiss your temple while you talk.
“se-mi, just give her some space,” you say, and thanos mutters, “yeah, and give us some too.”
once se-mi finally hangs up, you dry thanos’ hair with a towel, the purple strands soft and vibrant under your fingers.
he’s back to his silly self, striking poses in the mirror and rapping.
you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“you’re ridiculous,” you say, and he turns, pulling you close.
“ridiculous but you love it, baby,” he says, kissing you slow and sweet, his hands warm on your back.
the bathroom’s a disaster, and se-mi’s probably gonna call again in ten minutes.
right now, it’s just you and a new purple haired thanos.
;; boyfriend!semi has a habit of checking your temperature with the back of his hand just because he likes the excuse to feel your skin. his hands are usually calloused from the guitar strings, a rough texture that contrasts against your cheek when he tilts your face up for a lingering, slow-motion kiss that tastes like his morning espresso.
;; boyfriend!semi lets you pick his outfits for shows, standing perfectly still while you button up his shirt. he’ll watch your back through the mirror with a lazy, lopsided smirk, his fingers hooking into your belt loops to pull you flush against him. “focus,” he’ll murmur against your ear, even though he's the one making it impossible.
;; boyfriend!semi loves back hugs while you’re trying to do literally anything else. he’ll bury his face in the crook of your neck, his nose cold but his breath hot, leaving soft, damp trails along your collarbone. he doesn’t say much, just tightens his hold until you melt into him, forgetting the dishes or the laptop entirely.
;; boyfriend!semi is incredibly attentive to the way you look in his clothes. he’ll intentionally leave his favorite oversized sweater on the edge of the bed before he leaves for a session, knowing you’ll be wearing it (and nothing else) by the time he gets home. the look he gives you when he walks through the door is enough to make your knees weak.
;; boyfriend!semi writes songs about the way you look when you're asleep, but he'll never admit it. instead, he’ll just play a certain melody on his acoustic guitar while you’re reading—a slow, rhythmic progression that feels like a physical caress. when you look up, he’s already watching you, his thumb tracing the bridge of his guitar like he’s imagining it’s your jawline.
;; boyfriend!semi has a very specific way of claiming your space. if you’re out with friends, his hand is constantly on the small of your back or draped over your shoulder, his thumb tracing idle circles through the fabric of your shirt. it’s not possessive in a loud way—it’s just a constant, grounding reminder that he’s right there, and you’re his favorite person in the room.
;; boyfriend!semi loves the moments right after you shower. he’ll sit you down between his knees and take over the blow-dryer, his long fingers massaging your scalp with a focus that’s almost intimate. the steam, the scent of your shampoo, and the way he looks down at you with those heavy, dark eyes—it’s enough to give you butterflies that don't go away for hours.
;; boyfriend!semi has a thing for the way you look when you’re flustered. he’ll catch your wrist while you’re walking past him, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. he doesn't say a word, just rests his hands on your thighs—fingers digging in just deep enough to leave a ghost of a mark—while he continues his conversation or looks at his phone, letting you feel the tent in his pants.
;; boyfriend!semi has a thing for the friction of his jewelry against your skin. he’ll let his rings graze the sensitive skin of your inner thighs while he’s leaning over you, his voice dropping an octave as he tells you exactly what he’s been thinking about during the drive home. the vibration of his chest against yours is a low hum.
;; boyfriend!semi likes to test your composure in public. he’ll slide a hand under the table at dinner, his fingers tracing the hem of your skirt, shorts or the seam of your jeans with agonizing slowness. he’ll keep a perfectly calm conversation with your friends, but the way his knuckles occasionally press a little too firmly against you tells a completely different story.
;; boyfriend!semi is addicted to the sound you make when he bites. he’s found every sweet spot on your body—the dip of your waist, the back of your knee, that specific patch of skin behind your ear. he’ll mark you right where your clothes hide it, a secret bruise that throbs every time you move, reminding you who you belong to.
;; boyfriend!semi isn’t afraid to use his hands to keep you in place. if you try to pull away during a kiss, he’ll lace his fingers in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back and expose your throat. he likes the vulnerability of it, the way your breath hitches when he hovers his lips over your pulse point without quite touching it, making you ache for him to just finish what he started.
;; boyfriend!semi gets incredibly tactile after a show. the adrenaline hasn’t faded, and he’ll pin you against the dressing room door the second it’s locked. he’s sweaty, his hair is a mess, and he’s pulling your clothes aside with a frantic kind of need that usually ends with your legs wrapped around his waist and his name being gasped into the quiet of the room.
;; boyfriend!semi loves a lazy morning that isn’t lazy at all. he’ll trap you under the weight of his body, his hands wandering under your shirt to find the heat of your skin. he’s patient, teasing you with slow, shallow movements or dragging his tongue along your collarbone until you’re whining for more, only for him to smirk and whisper, “patience, baby,” against your lips.
;; boyfriend!semi has a gaze that feels like a physical touch. sometimes he’ll just stop what he’s doing and watch you—really watch you—as you get dressed or move around the kitchen. when you catch him, he doesn’t look away. he just lets his eyes roam over your curves with a dark, liquid intensity that makes you feel completely exposed and utterly wanted all at once.
;; boyfriend!semi loves to bend you over in his studio after everyone had left, making your eyes roll back, and your legs shake. he’ll make sure to put his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet just in case someone returns. he’d clean you up after, and carry you back since he went too hard on you.
being exes w su bong but still being so close and everybody knows you’re still fucking
public secret
↳α/n: hello 911, i'm on fire. i haven't written smut in so long but since i'm soooooooooooooooo touch deprived you goonettes are the only ones benefiting lol
when texting: reader is pink, subong is purple.
↳summary: you break up with your boyfriend over α dissimilarity in your everyday life, little did you know you two couldn't stay away from each other, and worse of it all? it was impossible to hide.
you and subong had broken up a few months ago because it just didn’t work out between you two. he performed at night and would get home pretty late while your schedule was the complete opposite; your day started early in the morning like every other person in the world.
you had started to barely see each other, and that created a tension because there was no time for sex anymore. subong would wake up with you in the morning despite having only slept for two hours just so you could fuck, which always resulted in you being late. he knew you weren’t the type for quickies; he wanted you to feel every inch of his dick and take your time to build your orgasm so you could cum so hard.
waiting for him at night? no way in hell. you used to do that back in the day, but it was just way too tiring; he’d always find you asleep on the couch. sex was the main pillar in your relationship, and seeing it crumble meant the connection wasn't going to last any longer.
“i can’t be late every day just because you want to fuck in the morning,” you finally snapped at him one day.
“okay, then when do you want to do this, huh? we barely see each other despite me sleeping over almost every day,” he said, making a point that made you pause for a second.
“i don’t know, subong. you’re acting like you’re gonna die if we don’t do it every fucking day!” you said.
“just say this isn’t going to work and move on,” he replied, getting up and grabbing his shirt and pants.
“what? you’re putting words in my mouth right now,” you protested.
this time, he didn’t answer. he just dressed and left your place, slamming the door a little harder than usual. but in your head, it was loud. very loud, because you knew it was his way of breaking up with you. you loved him, but you worked way too hard for this life and you weren’t going to throw it all away over a man. right?
you gave it 48 hours before he texted you, apologizing for his childish behavior.
hey
i’m sorry girl
i was really immature
are you saying that after rubbing one out?
???
i’m being deadass
look subong i love you and i’m sure you love me too but i just can’t stay with someone who acts like they’re gonna die if they don’t have sex for a few days
no baby i swear it’s not that
i had a bad day and took it all out on you
i’m sorryyyyy
and that’s how your relationship ended. everyone refused to believe it, especially semi.
“excuse me? you two broke up?” she said, setting her drink on the table as if she’d found something far more interesting.
“yeah,” you replied, shrugging.
“unbelievable,” she laughed. “he was obsessed with you. he’s probably crying to his mom or something right now.”
“no, he’s probably fucking other girls,” you corrected her.
but you were wrong—so wrong. you had that man jerking off like he was eighteen all over again. and he’d do it to the thought of you, always. he’d even use the old videos you guys had filmed that you had completely forgotten about.
alone in his room, the blue light of his phone illuminated the desperation on his face as he watched a video of you from months ago. he lay back with one hand behind his head and the other gripped tightly around himself, moving in a slow, punishing rhythm that matched the pace of your recorded moans. the sound of your voice through the speakers made his breath hitch, his chest heaving as he closed his eyes to imagine you were actually there, on top of him. he let out a low, guttural groan, his hips twitching upward as he chased the ghost of a feeling only you could give him, whispering your name into the empty air of his bedroom until he finally came, shaking and completely alone.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
the first time it happened, he only texted saying he’d stop by to pick up some of the things he’d left over. he said it so naturally. and when you opened the door for him, not a single ounce of sadness was on his face. you squinted your eyes to take a closer look, only to realize that… he was high.
you leaned against the wall, crossing your arms as you watched him wander through your place, looking for his stuff with a slow, relaxed confidence that set your teeth on edge.
“you’re seriously high right now?” you asked, your voice flat.
subong paused, a lazy, lopsided grin spreading across his face as he looked at you. “just a little. helped me get the courage to actually come over here and see you.”
“you’re just here for your clothes, subong. don't make it a thing,” you snapped, though the way he was looking at you—heavy-lidded and focused—was making your heart race.
“is that all i’m here for?” he stepped closer, abandoning the search for his hoodie. he stopped just inches away, the faint, sweet scent of smoke clinging to him. “because you’re staring at me like you want to bite me.”
“i’m staring because you’re acting like a loser,” you lied, your breath hitching as he leaned down, his face hovering right next to yours.
“liar,” he whispered.
he didn’t wait for an answer. he crashed his lips against yours, and the kiss was messy, desperate, and tasted like bittersweet longing. you meant to push him away, but your hands found their way into his hair instead, pulling him closer. the frustration of the last few months boiled over into a heat that felt like it was going to consume the room. he backed you into the wall, his body heavy and warm against yours, his tongue dancing with yours in a way that made your knees weak.
“i knew you didn’t mean what you said,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice thick with smug satisfaction. “i knew you couldn’t stay away.”
“shut up,” you breathed, reaching down to tug at his shirt. “just shut up and kiss me.”
he chuckled, a low vibration you felt in your chest, and redoubled his efforts. his kisses moved to your jaw, then your neck, sucking a mark right below your ear that he knew would drive you crazy. you let out a soft moan, your head hitting the wall behind you.
his hands, which had been roaming your back, began to slide down. he gripped your waist tightly before one hand traveled lower, slipping over the curve of your hip. you gasped into his mouth as he reached his destination, his palm pressing firmly against the crotch of your jeans. he started rubbing his hand over your pussy through the thick denim, finding the perfect rhythm immediately.
“still think we should’ve moved on?” he rasped, his thumb applying pressure right where you needed it most.
you couldn’t even form a coherent thought, your body arching into his touch as the friction of the jeans sent sparks through your nerves. you didn’t care about the schedule, the late nights, or the arguments—not right now. all you cared about was the way his hand felt moving against you and the look in his eyes that told you he wasn't going anywhere.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
your circle of friends was really small, so you’d always end up at the same place every weekend. namgyu had invited everyone over to celebrate his pay rise, and it was the first time you and subong had ended up in the same place publicly since the breakup. despite being on opposite sides of the room, you kept exchanging looks—brief, three-second bursts of eye contact that felt like a physical weight.
there were only six of you in the apartment, so when the two of you disappeared, the void was noticeable. where else would you be? the bathroom.
the door had barely clicked shut before he had you turned around, bending you over the cold porcelain of the sink. your panties were tugged down your legs, eventually fluttering to the floor as he entered you from behind in one deep, forceful thrust. you gripped the edge of the sink so hard your knuckles turned white, biting your lip until you tasted copper to keep from screaming. if you made a sound, the four people sitting just a few feet away in the living room would hear everything.
the only sounds in the small room were the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin and the heavy, ragged sound of his breathing. subong buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.
"you missed this," he whispered, his voice a filthy, low growl in your ear. "confess. you've been thinking about this every night señorita."
"shut up," you hissed back, tilting your head to give him better access. "you're a peace of shitt.. but you're the only one who knows exactly how to hit that spot."
he let out a dark chuckle, his hands bruising your hips as he pulled you back against him, meeting every forward thrust with a violent intensity. to bring you to the edge, he began to slam into you with everything he had, his pace frantic until he suddenly stopped. he stayed buried deep inside you, perfectly still, letting the sheer fullness of him and the internal pulsing trigger your release. you came so hard your legs turned to jelly, your body trembling so violently you had to lean your entire weight on the sink just to stay upright.
as you were coming down from the high, you felt him tense up. you were about to whisper for him not to cum inside, but the words died in your throat—it was too late. he groaned against your skin as he filled you up, the heat of him blooming deep inside you.
when he finally pulled out, a heavy amount of cum dripped onto the bathroom floor. you looked down, breathless and disheveled, as he reached for some toilet paper.
"namgyu’s gonna be furious my cum is on his floor," he joked, his voice returning to that lazy, high-inflection tone.
you turned around, your face flushed, and slapped him gently on the chest. "you're disgusting."
you both took a few minutes to fix your clothes and check your hair in the mirror. you slipped out first, followed by him a minute later. when you walked back into the living room, the music seemed to dip. everyone was exchanging knowing looks.
"please tell me you didn't just fuck in my bathroom," namgyu said, looking between the two of you with a grimace.
"ew, no," you said, reaching for your drink and acting as if your heart wasn't still hammering against your ribs. "we broke up, remember?"
subong just shrugged, leaning against the wall with that same lopsided grin. "what she said."
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
club pentagon was in full swing, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the floor and up into the seats of the leather booth where the six of you sat. as the group laughed over a round of shots, subong’s hand slid down your thigh. you slapped it away, but he just smirked, putting it right back and sliding his palm higher until he was feeling the heat radiating through your dress.
poor minsu, sitting directly across from you, noticed exactly what was unfolding. he quickly looked down at his drink, pretending to be fascinated by the ice cubes to avoid the awkwardness. you bit your lip, letting out a small, muffled moan as you felt subong’s finger graze the edge of your lace panties. you stood up abruptly, excusing yourself by saying you needed to pee. subong didn't even try to be subtle; he followed you with a lingering gaze and a dark smirk.
nobody seemed to care until subong stood up a few seconds later. the four left at the table looked at each other and sighed in unison.
“he’s acting like a dog in heat,” namgyu muttered, shaking his head.
“that’s normal for someone in love, but your insufferable self wouldn’t know,” semi shot back, rolling her eyes.
“fuck would you know, bitch,” namgyu retorted.
“guys, stop,” gyeongsu intervened, though he looked just as exhausted by the drama as the rest of them.
meanwhile, subong had caught up to you in the hallway. he guided you toward the back, into an employee bathroom usually reserved for the performers. the moment the door locked, the muffled roar of the club music became a rhythmic pulse against the walls.
subong sat on the closed lid of the toilet, pulling you toward him. he watched with hungry eyes as you straddled him, slowly sinking onto his dick. you let out the loudest, sexiest moans, knowing the heavy bass outside would swallow every sound you made. subong’s head fell back, a guttural groan escaping his throat as he gripped your ass, pulling you down harder. occasionally, he’d deliver a sharp smack to your skin, making you shiver from the stinging heat of it.
reaching up, he pulled down the delicate strings of your dress, freeing your breasts. he immediately leaned forward, his mouth catching one nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue while you rode him. you weren't just moving up and down; you began to grind forward and back, a circular motion that had him losing his mind.
“your pussy is so tight,” he rasped, his voice breaking as he looked up at you. “it’s coating my dick, i can feel how wet you are for me.”
“i hate how much i want you,” you whispered back, leaning down to hiss filthy things into his ear about how good he felt inside you.
the wet, rhythmic sounds of the friction filled the small room, competing with the thumping music. subong’s grip on your hips tightened until his knuckles were white. he couldn't take the friction of your clit rubbing against him while you moved like that. with a choked-off cry, he buckled, his body jerking as he came first.
“fuck… i’m sorry,” he panted, his chest heaving. “i couldn’t hold it. your pussy is just way too good tonight.”
you looked at him, furious and breathless, your body still aching for its own release. sensing your frustration, he didn't miss a beat. he reached down, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in firm, expert circles while he kept himself buried inside you.
“look at me,” he commanded, his voice low and grounding. he talked you through it, describing exactly how you looked riding him, telling you how much he loved the way you felt.
your breath hitched, your internal muscles contracting and squeezing his slightly softening cock. you came hard, your cunt pulsing around him so forcefully that it pushed his cum back out of you. subong watched, mesmerized, as the white fluid mixed with your own juices, dripping down your thigh in the dim light of the bathroom.
he reached for a tissue, leaning down to gently clean you up with a focused, almost tender expression. once you were both decent, he pulled you into a deep, lingering kiss that tasted like a silent truce. you straightened your dress, he fixed his hair, and one by one, you headed back out to the chaos of the club.
