October 31st
Seo Changbin × Footjob
Contains: exhibitionism(?), hints of Changbin being a m, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, afab reader who dresses up as a woman character, a little bit of CBT
Word Count: 1.5k+
Kinktober Masterlist
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You lay your head back. The small voice in the back of your mind is telling you to leave before you regret doing or saying anything. “I’m not really in the mood to drink tonight, Binnie.” You mumble.
You’re sipping on a glass of water after he suggested some soju and beer. The thought of drinking alcohol after what happened last week makes you nervous. It seems you seriously become a different person under the influence. Thinking about last week has you worrying about how Changbin is feeling.
“Are you worried about something happening?” He picks up a pair of metal tongs, flipping the meat over and pressing it down a bit. Although it seems like he’s teasing you, he’s actually a bit clueless.
You stand up straighter and look at him, pursing your lips. When his eyes meet yours, he can’t keep eye contact for long and his sight adverts back to the ceiling with mood lighting and constellations. It seems that seeing you jogged his memory on what exactly occurred on Halloween day. You dressed up in something provocative. A full body suit of latex with the only skin really showing being your breast, pushed together and shown a generous amount. You could pull the zipper up but it wouldn’t be accurate to your costume like that. A whip was around your waist as well.
The main point was that you had a little too much to drink. You spoke your mind freely, conversing with Minho about your obvious attraction to Changbin. You mostly complained about the blatant signs you’ve been showing him, to no avail. He took them as jokes and maybe would even get a bit flustered before reverting back to the same ol’ Seo Changbin. When you caught the very man you were talking about in the corner of your eye, you couldn’t help stumbling towards him.
He was shocked when you had pressed your chest to his and fluttered your eyes. He got out the words ‘hey’ but he realized it wasn’t very like you, to so blatantly hit on him. Still, he wasn’t getting the message.
The most shocking thing was when you led his hands to take a handful of your breast in a party full of your friends. He wasn’t thinking clearly when it happened, hands still on them. You make him squeeze them, lip between your teeth. It’s not until you whisper something in his ear that he’s snapped out of it. No, this was not like you at all.
He held his breath and stepped away, slightly intoxicated as well, some of it being the alcohol in his red solo cup but mostly by the smell of your perfume.
He had to leave soon after that. You were told about what you did (with detail, from Minho) after sleeping over and with your splitting hangover, you were mortified. What were you going to say to your friend the next time you saw him? You swore to never drink that much ever again. You regretted avoiding Changbin for the rest of the week but you couldn’t handle thinking about what he’d say. Maybe a way to completely reject your crush or maybe he was so oblivious that he would shrug it off as a drunken mistake. That would really hurt.
But wasn’t that what you were doing now? “Listen…what happened that night, it was just a joke-“ and he cuts you off with his own words.
“Was it? I don’t think being dressed as cat woman and making me-“ he clears his throat, “squeeze your tits was a very funny joke.”
You open your mouth for a second and then you lean over. “You’re right. It wasn’t funny. It was wrong.” You guiltily press your lips together.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it or anything!” He gets out, waving his hands.
You grab the tongs out of his hand and take the meat off the grill. You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed seeing Changbin a little flustered. He could be bold when he wanted to, more often than not but when he was like this, you just wanted to tease him.
You slip off one of your flats. You could be bold without the influence of alcohol.
“Would you have preferred if I continued? Right there in the open for all of our friends to see?” You ask, leaning on one of your hands.
Right as he’s about to answer, your foot brushes against his leg and he lets out this squeak. The sound makes you want to laugh but you hold back. The people near you in other stalls look for a moment with confusion before carrying on their conversation. Changbin thinks you touching him under the table must’ve just been a mistake so he carries on to answer your question.
“I’m not really interested in having our friends witness something like THAT-!” Then he lets out another loud noise when your thin-socked foot drags up his leg. He’s wearing those really hot gray sweatpants that he knows you like. “Are you…doing that on purpose?”
You drag your tongue on your lower lip, completing it with this mischievous smile. You watch as he gulps comically.
“Then, what are you interested in?” You carry on the conversation as if nothing is going on under the table.
Changbin shuffles a bit in his chair. At first, he’s hesitant to say what’s on his mind but he spits it out: “…You.” Then he takes a spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. You reward him with resting your foot between his legs, toeing at the fabric losing hanging from his crotch. It drags down again, caressing his thigh barley and he’s looking down and letting out the lightest sigh. “Are we really going to do this here…?”
“We haven’t been here long but of course I could stop if you aren’t comfortable.” You start backing away your leg but he puts his hand back on it.
“Don’t stop.”
“That isn’t very polite of you.” You finally press the curve of your foot on his crotch. “Let’s try that again. I think you’re missing the magic word.”
His eyes almost burst open. His jaw drops. “I didn’t know you were like this…”
You fake a pout. “That’s not the word.” And you put more pressure on him, feeling him twitch under the pressure.
He shuffles his hips up, “Please-please? I’m sorry.”
You use your finger to motion him to come closer. When he does, you have full access to getting him hard under your foot without gathering suspicion. You immediately get to work, stretching your toes over what you feel is the head and stroking him. His eyes shut almost immediately and his eyebrows dent down. It couldn't be any more obvious that he’s getting a foot job right now.
“Did you like the costume I wore?” You ask, stopping your motions so he can focus on your question.
He’s not stupid. As his eyes subtly open, he acknowledges that he knows you’re playing a game with him. “You kidding? I was drooling over it the whole party.”
You start your movements again and Changbin can’t help the choked out sound he makes. You fake concern as to lower suspicion to whoever may be looking into your booth, on their way to the bathroom. When another person walks by, you get curious and caress the head of his cock. He jilts in his seat and has to bite on his lip, scared he might let out a noise.
“What do you think about what I was wearing while I’m doing this?”
“If I do that, I might…y’know, early.”
“You liked it that much?” And then the heel of your foot is grinding on balls.
It’s meant as a punishment but the way he covers his mouth with one hand and grips the edge of the wooden table has you thinking it was closer to a reward. His arm flexes with his grip and you start to actually get concerned.
“You okay? Should we stop?” You take your hand over the table. He quickly takes a hold of yours and whimpers, intertwining them.
“Don’t. Was really close. Keep goin’.” He whispers with a slur in his words as if he’s already lust-drunk. It’s quiet enough so only you can hear it over the other talking.
Your strokes get more fluid, realizing that he might like it a little more rough than he’s leading on. So you get rougher with more pressure, more swivel, harder grip. You want to absolutely ruin him with this new information but you have to hold yourself back in public. You can’t help but feel a small rush at the thought of someone catching on to Changbin’s heavy breaths and realizing what’s actually going on. Of course, it would be embarrassing if it were to actually happen and Bin wouldn’t actually be comfortable about that.
Then you mouth the same words you whispered into his ear that Halloween night. His jaw slacks and it’s like he’s going to let out noise but instead, he’s silent as he cums in his pants. His eyes squeeze shut hard and he shakes with the impact of his release. It’s when he settles down and his watery eyes are begging you to stop that you do.
You slip your foot back into your shoe and point to the food. “Can you grill this one next?”
Drool is running down his lip as he sits in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss. His look makes you want to kiss him.
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