#txt headcanons

[suunani]

feel it grow together [ choi soobin ]

soobin lets you slide onto him while he’s soft so you can feel him slowly grow hard inside you.

❛ content 2.8k words, 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, power bottom!male reader, nerd!soobin, getting hard while inside, big dick!soobin, unprotected sex (p in a), cockwarming kinda, riding, creampie, praise, lots of kisses.

"can we put it in soft and feel it grow together?"

the question hangs in the air of soobin's dimly lit room, completely severing the comfortable silence that had settled over them like a well-worn blanket.

soobin's pen freezes mid-annotation over his biology textbook, and for a solid three seconds, or maybe just a little more, his brain — usually so quick, so sharp when it came to memorizing diagrams and reciting historical dates — completely short-circuits.

he hears your words, processes each one individually, but putting them together into a coherent concept feels like trying to solve a calculus problem underwater.

beside him, you're already wiggling with barely contained excitement, your phone abandoned face-down on the mattress. you're watching your boyfriend with those eager eyes, waiting, practically vibrating.

soobin slowly turns his head, and he can feel the heat creeping up his neck, flooding his cheeks. his glasses have slid down his pretty nose slightly, and he pushes them up with one finger, a nervous habit.

"what?!"

but you're already leaning into him, your hand finding his knee through the soft gray fabric of his sweatpants.

"i'm serious! think about it, babe."

your voice is that special kind of excited, the one soobin usually hears when you're explaining a new game you're completely obsessed with or suggesting a takeout place you've been dying to try.

"we've never done it like that. it's always, you know... we're both already hard, and it's kind of rushed and intense. but this..." you squeeze his knee, your thumb tracing a small circle. "this would be different. slower. we could just... be together. and feel everything."

soobin's heart is doing something erratic in his chest.

he's still holding his pen, still surrounded by highlighters and flashcards, and his ridiculously attractive boyfriend is sitting on his bed, talking about his dick like it's the most natural thing in the world. which, okay, it is, they've been together for eight months, they're past the awkward stage. but this is... new.

"you want to..." soobin swallows, his throat suddenly dry. he glances down at his own lap, then back at you, his cheeks impossibly pinker. "you want to sit on it? while it's... you know?"

"soft, yeah."

you nod enthusiastically, scooting closer, and your thigh presses against his.

"i just keep thinking about what it would feel like. the sensation of it... waking up inside me. getting harder because of me, because of us," your voice drops a little, losing some of its excited energy and gaining something warmer, something more intimate. "i think it would feel really good, babe. really close."

and that's the thing.

soobin has never been able to deny you anything when you look at him like that, when your voice goes soft and you say his name like it means something more than just letters strung together. he's completely, utterly gone for you, and you know it. you use that power sometimes, but never cruelly. always like this — to pull him closer, to bring him into a moment with you.

he sets his pen down carefully, marking his place in the textbook with a sticky note; a small, practical gesture that's so distinctly him that it makes your heart clench.

"you really want to?" soobin asks softly, his voice quieter now, a little shy.

"yeah, more than anything right now," you admit, and it's the truth.

the textbook, the phone, the outside world — it's all completely faded away. there is just soobin, in his ridiculously soft-looking oversized white t-shirt and those grey sweatpants that you've told him a hundred times should be illegal, his dark hair falling over his forehead, his glasses framing those warm, curious eyes that are currently fixed entirely on you.

soobin bites his lower lip, a telltale sign that he's thinking, he's considering. then, slowly, he shifts on the bed, putting his textbook on the nightstand. he leans back against the headboard, the wood creaking softly, and his long legs stretch out, then bend slightly, creating a space for you, an invitation.

"okay," he breathes out, the word carrying a mix of nervousness and genuine curiosity. "let's... let's try."

and oh, you don't need to be told twice.

you're moving immediately, crawling over the messy comforter to settle between your boyfriend’s legs. soobin watches you, his hands coming up to softly rest on your hips as you straddle him, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his thighs.

you're face to face now, close enough to see the tiny mole under his eye, the way his eyelashes flutter.

"hi," you whisper, a stupid, giddy smile spreading across your face.

a matching smile tugs at soobin's lips, despite his obvious embarrassment.

"hi," he whispers back. his hands are warm through the thin fabric of your pajama pants. "this is so weird."

"good weird or bad weird?"

"just... weird. different."

soobin ducks his head slightly, looking at where your bodies meet, at the tentatively interested bulge in his own pants that's nowhere near full attention.

"are you sure you're gonna be comfortable? what if—"

you cut him off with a kiss; it's soft, just a brush of lips, simply meant to soothe.

"we'll go slow. if it's weird or uncomfortable, we can just stop. okay?"

soobin nods against your mouth. "okay."

you kiss him again, deeper this time, and you feel his huge hands tighten on your hips. you rock forward experimentally, just a small shift of weight, and soobin makes a tiny sound against your lips.

you break the kiss to sit back slightly, your hands finding the hem of his oversized t-shirt. "can i?"

soobin lifts his arms without a word, and you pull the shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind you, and your breath catches, like it always does.

you've already seen him naked countless times, but the sight of his pretty bare chest, the smooth expanse of pale skin, the subtle definition of muscle from carrying heavy books and the occasional gym session with his friends — it never gets old. he's beautiful in a way that feels accidental, unassuming.

soobin doesn't seem to fully realize how hot he is, and that, somehow, makes him even hotter.

your fingers find the waistband of his sweatpants, and you look at him for permission. once again, soobin gives a small, shy nod. you tug them down, along with his boxers, just enough. his cock lies soft against his thigh, and you feel a fresh wave of heat pool in your stomach. it's still him, still soobin, still the part of him that makes you feel so incredibly full and complete.

it's just... resting.

you shimmy out of your own pajama pants and boxers quickly, not wanting to break the moment. when you settle back on his lap, it's skin-to-skin, his soft length pressed against the curve of your ass. soobin hisses in a breath, his fingers digging into your hips.

you position yourself carefully, one hand on soobin’s shoulder for balance, the other reaching down to guide him. your eyes meet his.

"ready?"

he looks terrified and thrilled in equal measure.

"ready."

you shift your weight, lowering yourself slowly. the head of soobin’s soft cock presses against your entrance, and for a moment, it just... sits there. it's an odd sensation, really — the familiar pressure, but without the familiar hardness. it feels almost impossibly soft, pliable.

you take a breath and push down gently.

the slide is different; way slower. there is no resistance in the same way, because he's soft, but your body still has to accommodate his size. even soft, soobin is... well, considerable. you feel yourself stretching around him, taking him in inch by inch, and the sensation is so unique, so new, that a shaky moan escapes your lips.

soobin's eyes are wide.

"oh," he breathes. "oh, wow."

"you okay?" you manage to ask, pausing when you're about halfway seated.

soobin nods frantically, his hands softly stroking up and down your sides.

"y-yeah. it's just... it feels so warm, and so tight. but it's also different. it's like... i can feel everything. i can feel every part of you."

you lower yourself the rest of the way, and then you're fully seated, his soft cock buried completely inside you. you sit there for a moment, just breathing, just feeling; the weight of him, the fullness, the strange, intimate knowledge that he's inside you but not hard inside you.

it's like a secret, a moment stolen from time.

you're both still for a long, breathless moment. soobin's hands are splayed across your lower back, warm and grounding, and you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it's yours — it's hard to tell anymore when you're this close.

"how does it feel?" you whisper, your forehead resting against his.

"warm," he repeats, his voice soft with wonder. "and... tight. but it's like..." he struggles for words, his brow furrowing adorably. "it's like i can feel you holding me. not like... fucking. just holding."

you smile, pressing a gentle kiss to soobin’s lips.

"yeah. that's what i wanted."

you start to move, but not in any real rhythm.

just small, subtle shifts of your hips. you were rocking, more than anything, simply testing the sensation. with each tiny movement, you feel him, soft and pliant, moving inside you, and it's incredibly intimate in a way you hadn't tully anticipated.

soobin's hands roam your back, your sides, his touch full of reverence. your boyfriend is looking at you like you're something so precious, something he can't quite believe is real. his cheeks are still flushed that pretty pink you love so much, his lips slightly parted.

"you're so beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself.

you feel a flutter of warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with where you're connected.

"so are you."

you kiss him again, deeper this time. your tongue slides against his, slow and exploratory, and soobin’s hands come up to cup your face, holding you close. the kiss deepens, becomes more urgent, more hungry. you feel his hips twitch beneath you, a small, unconscious thrust.

and then, finally, you feel it — the slightest change; a thickening, a growing weight inside you. you gasp against his mouth at the very new sensation, pulling back just enough to look at him.

soobin’s eyes are hazy, his pupils blown wide.

"soobin," you breathe. "i can feel you."

he looks down, as if he could see through both your bodies to where they're joined.

"it's you," soobin whispers, his voice wrecked. "it's because of you. you feel so good."

another small, unconscious thrust. another surge of growth. soobin’s cock is filling out inside you, pressing against your walls in a way it couldn't when it was soft. the sensation is really overwhelming — the gradual stretch, the increasing fullness… you can feel every ridge, every vein as they become more pronounced.

you can feel soobin getting harder because of you, because of the way your body is wrapped around him, because of the kisses, because of the closeness.

"oh—my god," soobin pathetically whimpers, his head falling back against the headboard. his hands grip your hips tighter, his knuckles white. "oh my god, that feels... that feels so..."

"i know," you groan, and you start to move with more purpose now, rolling your hips in a slow circle. each movement seems to encourage him, to draw more blood, more hardness. "i can feel every second of it. you're getting so hard inside me, babe."

soobin makes a sound that's somewhere between a moan and a whine, high-pitched and desperate.

"d-don't stop. please don't stop."

you don't. you keep moving, keep kissing him, keep whispering praise against his lips.

"feel how good you feel. feel how perfectly you fit."

"i can't—" soobin cuts himself off with another whine, his hips starting to thrust up in small, jerky movements that meet your rolls. "it's too much. it feels too good."

"it's not too much," you assure him, your hand coming up to card through his soft hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "you're doing so well. just feel it. feel me."

soobin is fully hard now, thick and heavy inside you, and the transition from soft to hard has left you both breathless and shaking. you've never experienced anything like it — the gradual, inexorable filling, the knowledge that his arousal is a direct response to you, to this moment. it's really intoxicating.

"i wanna move," soobin begs, his voice cracking. "please, baby, please can i move? i need—i need to—"

you simply nod, unable to form words properly. you lift yourself slightly, and soobin thrusts up, a real thrust this time, deep and sure. you both moan, the sound mingling in the small space between you.

"y-yeah," you gasp. "like that. just like that—"

soobin sets a rhythm, slow at first, still overwhelmed by the newness of it all. his thrusts are deep, deliberate, each one punching a soft sound from your lips, and his hands are everywhere — your hips, your back, your face.

he can't stop touching you, can't stop looking at you.

"you're so perfect," soobin babbles, his words tumbling out between kisses and pretty moans. "so perfect for me. i love you so much. i love being inside you. i love—ah!—i love feeling you."

you capture his mouth with yours, swallowing his words, his every sounds. you simply love him like this — open, vulnerable, completely undone by you. the pretty nerd who annotates his textbooks and makes color-coded study guides, reduced to a whining, desperate mess because of how you feel around him.

you start to meet his thrusts, matching his rhythm, making it deeper and harder. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound joining the wet, obscene noises of your bodies coming together.

"i'm close," soobin warns, his voice tight.

he's gripping you so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow, and you can't bring yourself to care.

"i'm so close, baby, where do you want—"

"inside," you moans. "stay inside—wanna feel you come inside me."

soobin’s eyes roll back slightly at your words, and his thrusts become erratic, losing their rhythm. he's chasing his release, but he's also watching you, making sure you're with him. your boyfriend’s hand snakes down between your bodies, finding your cock, stroking you in time with his thrusts.

it only takes a few more strokes; you come with a broken cry of his name, your body clenching around him, and that's all it takes to push soobin over the edge. he follows with a desperate, high-pitched moan, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and deep.

for a long moment, neither of you moves.

you're both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same humid air. soobin's hands are still on you, but they've gone soft, just resting.

right now, you can feel him softening inside you, the reverse of the sensation from before, and it's just as incredible in its own way.

finally, you shift, wincing slightly at the oversensitivity, and soobin's hands immediately try to hold you still.

"wait," he murmurs. "just... wait a second. i'm not ready to not be inside you yet."

you smile, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"okay."

you simply stay like that for a long time, connected, breathing together. soobin’s thumbs trace absent patterns on your skin, and your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

the room slowly cools around you, but you're both warm, wrapped up in each other.

"that was..." he trails off, searching for the right word.

"incredible?" you offer.

"yeah," soobin laughs softly, a little puff of air against your lips. "incredible. you always have the best ideas."

"i know," you tease, but you're smiling too.

eventually, you have to move.

the practicalities of cleanup, of bodily functions, of reality intruding on the perfect bubble you've created. but even as you disentangle yourselves, even as soobin disappears into his attached bathroom and returns with a warm, damp washcloth to clean you both with gentle, careful hands, the intimacy doesn't break.

when you finally settle back into bed, both of you having pulled on fresh boxers, soobin immediately pulls you against his chest. he's warm and solid, and you can feel his heartbeat, still slightly elevated, against your cheek.

"so," you mumble against his skin. "worth interrupting your study session?"

soobin laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"my biology textbook can wait. this was..." he pauses, and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. "this was the best kind of practical application."

you snort, elbowing him gently. "such a nerd."

the room falls into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes after moments of profound intimacy.

outside, the city continues its endless hum.

inside, in soobin's small, cluttered bedroom, there's just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, sated and sleepy and utterly, completely in love.

📜 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 <𝟯 !!

[soobvns]

c. sb ღ duality

Summary: Your boyfriend — despite being naturally leading, is pretty submissive in bed. It comes as quite a shock when he decides to take control once but who are you to say no?

⤷ smut!!! p in v, softdom!soobin. established relationship. soobin spits in and on you a couple times. lowk size kink. big dick!soobin agenda. few praises thrown in.

a/n: fem!reader (afab so implied), inspired by my dream & requested kinda 🫡 soobin nation rise up. not proof read ><

Being intimate with Soobin has never felt this heavy and hot. His bigger, more intimidating frame easily envelops your body and naturally leads the progress of your connection. You’re not sure when you ended up in his lap, swallowed by his broad stature as you struggle to keep up with the prodding tongue exploring your mouth. Your heart is dizzy with lust-fuelled excitement and your stomach starts to clench and sends sparks of passion towards your lower body. Your hips rock subconsciously against his own as you chase relief for the pressure that’s built up in your sensitive clit from his actions.

You’re practically panting as Soobin continues his ministrations. The usually passive and quite submissive man clings to you needingly, pressing his mouth against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues as if trying to prove a point to someone in his head.

Your hands which dig into the skin as the base of his neck falter and squeeze at the wisps of hair as he pushes you impossibly closer by the small of your back. Your lips disconnect slightly so his hot, heavy tongue can lick a daring stripe from your neck to just above your jaw.

You can’t help but whimper at the feeling. You feel like you’re going insane as Soobin continues to have his way with you. It’s not like Soobin to practically jump on you and have you sit pretty in his lap as he does what he wants to you. Usually, he’s staring at you with eyes blown large with desire as he asks you want you want him to do. What he can do to make you feel so good. Usually the control over someone so much larger than you makes your legs clench but the way Soobin is practically treating you like a doll has you drenched in a way you didn’t think was ever possible.

“Mhmph — Soobin!” You mewl as he presses heavy kisses against your cheek, travelling up your face to press them into your hairline before he lands back at your mouth. He snakes a hand from the small of your back to clench your chin between fingers, pulling his face back so he can stare at you with dark eyes. You swear your eyes almost roll to the back of your head at the sight of his plush, bruised lip. They’re slick with saliva and a small string still connects your lips.

He breathes heavily but the way you’re panting at having your breath stolen from you is undeniably hot to both of you. Your hands slip from his neck to hold his broad shoulders. You must look crazed — hair messy and lips swollen from the nips caused by Soobin.

“What’s gotten into you?” You question under pants, eyes darting around your boyfriend’s face. His hooded eyes drink in the details of your wrecked face. Soft eyes, furrowed brows and parted, kiss bitten red lips that glisten under the dull light in the bedroom like a crude layer of lipgloss. Soobin’s dick twitches at the sight.

“Need you.” Soobin mutters honestly as his hand drops from your chin. You swallow thickly before letting out a small puff in surprise as Soobin swiftly scoots back to lay you flat against the bed. Your stomach flutters as he easily manhandles you in a pliant position he wants to see you in.

“H-Hah..” You exhale shakily as Soobin’s hand runs down your body. His large plans envelope your tits, squeezing and pushing them together under the fabric of your top. He uses his thumbs to rub over the protruding tips, revelling in the way you shiver and bite your lip at the feeling. Your legs greedily rub together, ignoring how your knees knock into his legs and give away what you’re doing.

Wriggling and twisting, you reach after his touch. He curses as his hands trail further down your body until he reaches the hem of your shirt. His head dips as he pushes the material up, lips pressing wet searing kisses to the exposed skin of your torso. When he lifts away to press more, tongue darting to lap at the skin, the cool air causes a nipping sensation that makes your back arch.

Your head falls further back into the pillows as your hands grasp at the sheets. Soobin pushes your shirt up to the point it bunches over the swell of your breasts, pert nipples facing the cool air without much cover. Your legs press together as his head rounds up to the flesh of your tits. His tongue leaves a hot trail of desire, mapping his ministrations as he finally targets your breasts. He swirls the tongue around the perky bud, lips suctioning down as his teeth graze at the sensitive surface. You mewl and yelp as his other hand comes to twist at the neglected nipple.

“A-Ah, Soobin..” You moan wantonly, back arching and twisting. You try to pull away from the pinching of your right nipple but it leads you to push against Soobin’s face causing his teeth to dig into the soft flesh. You hiss and mewl as you feel yourself become more needy at the opposite sensations.

“So needy.” Soobin mumbles around the flesh as he moves to suck the skin just under your areola. You seizes his pinching to lightly roll over the bud with his thumb. You sigh as he separates from your tit with a soft ‘pop!’

The skin presents with a slight red tint. Soobin exhales as he realises the mark will slowly darken over time.

You release your hands from the sheets to weave your fingers into Soobin’s dark strands. He follows your lead until his face connects with your again. Your lips jut into a pout as you motion for him to meet you halfway with another kiss but he stills despite the pull on his hair.

“Jus’ kiss me, already.” You whine, feeling slightly lightheaded by the change in dynamic. Soobin’s lip flips into a smirk at one corner, the expression sends a flutter straight to your cunt. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against your lips.

You relish in the soft kiss. It’s different from what he’s inflicted upon you tonight.

He pulls away softly and his eyes almost seem a little lighter. They’re still clouded with unwavering desire but his expression seems just a fraction smaller.

“..My beautiful baby.” Soobin practically whispers as his eyes take in the features of your face. You turn hot under the appreciation. Soobin presses a soft kiss against your jawline, eyes dazzling with love.

“Soobin..” You whine with embarrassment laced into your words, “Just fuck me already.”

If the room wasn’t hot before it was hot now. As soon as the plea left your mouth Soobin was stripping his shirt and unbuckling his belt. The visual of the taller man sat on his knees above you as his belt clacked and jiggled as he whipped it off and threw the accessory to the side with a metallic thud made your thighs clench. The way his brows furrowed slightly as the belt fumbled a little and the groan of relief once he was able to undo it and throw it to the side made the everyday action just a little hotter.

You shuffle and pull yourself up to fully take off the shirt that was uncomfortably bunched around your chest. Soobin’s eyes shamelessly stare at your tits as they shake a little when you readjust the strands of hair that fell into your face.

“Shit. Baby. Let me eat you out.” Soobin asks as he hurriedly pushes his trousers around his ankles. If you weren’t so turned on you’d probably laugh at how he swears when the material bunches on his thighs and he’s forced to hop off the bed to fully take the denim off. The strain of his cock against the black material of his Calvin Klein’s makes whatever humour die in the back of your head as you zone in on the print.

“Jus’ need you in me.” You reply earnestly. Soobin crawls back on the bed, leaning over you like predator to prey. His eyes meet yours softly, “I’ve been dying to taste you, baby.”

You almost moan at his words. Soobin uses a hand to trace your features with delicate fingers. Your hand raises to softly hold at the hand. Not to stop him but just to simply touch him.

“I just need your cock, ‘Bin.” You say it so easily Soobin feels himself twitch in his underwear. The fingers tracing your lips lead themselves to your lips, slightly pressing down on the pink flesh to open your mouth silently. You let him use you, opening your mouth so he can press down on your tongue.

“Get my fingers wet, my love.” Soobin hums as he zones in on the way your tongue twirls over the long digits. He wills himself to not teasingly press a little deeper. If he was feeling a little meaner maybe he’d see how far he could go before you gag against the prodding digits. He hooks a thumb on your chin so he can rub his pointer and middle fingers against your tongue.

You hum, voice bordering on a whine as your mouth salivates from his actions and face alone. Soobin pulls his fingers away but taps on your lips to tell you to keep your mouth open. You flinch a little when he spits but you can’t help but smile when the droplet of saliva lands on your tongue neatly. He dips his fingers back in to scoop it up and really coat his fingers.

He lets you breathe when he pulls away. You swallow thickly as Soobin shifts his attention to your needy cunt. The cool sensation of his fingers prodding as your hot, gushing pussy is enough to make your eyes roll back. He circles your clit a few times — the way you like — before dipping the tips of his fingers into your needy hole. He glances up to gage your reaction before pushing in his fingers, wiggling a little to ease them in.

“Didn’t even need you to drool all over my fingers.” Soobin laughs a little as your mouth falls open. You let out a breathy exhale as he scissors you open, fingers slowly spreading against your gummy walls to get you used to the feeling.

“Ha-ah, told you I need you.” You retort as your fingers curl against the sheets. Soobin hums and bends his head so he can leave a small kiss at the top of your thigh. The muscle twitches at the sensation but the loving action next to the pumping of his fingers makes your stomach feel warm and fuzzy.

It’s not long before the usual dirty sound of squelching fills the air. Soobin manages to wiggle in a third finger despite your little huffs when it stings as he introduces the third. He hums as he shifts back on his knees so he can use his other hand to circle at your clit.

Your thighs begin to shake a little. Your head lolls back as you whimper. Soobin’s long fingers and strikingly ability to find the spot that makes you see stars is a lethal combo, but one that makes you moan like a bitch in heat.

“Soob, ‘m gonna cum.” You warn. Soobin continues, twisting his fingers just slightly as he rubs a little faster on your clit. You should be embarrassed at the wet sloshing sound that fills the room but you can’t focus on it when the familiar warm tugging sensation starts to pull in your lower stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?” Soobin asks as he looks at your face. Your hair is disheveled from throwing your head back but it falls around your head like a halo. He presses a fingers a little harder against the spongy spot inside your cunt as he continues to coo little praises that makes your walls clench against the fingers.

“Pretty baby.” Soobin cooes as you cum. Your back arches with your pretty tits pointing perkily to the air. Soobin wills himself to not grab at the flesh as he continues to slowly pump his fingers in your squishy walls to help you ride out the orgasm. Your hips chase after the fading sensation before eventually stopping.

Soobin takes the signal to slowly detach his fingers from your cunt. Your pussy clenches as he pulls out.

Your head feels dizzy as you turn your head to look at your boyfriend. He’s slowly peeling the elastic band of his boxers away from his hips. You’d offer to help if you weren’t still a little breathless from whining for Soobin to keep going.

He rolls the material down his thighs. His quads tighten as his hand wraps around the base of his cock. He uses the juices from the hand he used to finger you to spread it across the sensitive skin.

He hisses at the contact. Despite being sexually active Soobin still swears he feels like he could cum from one touch alone as he looks at your body. He feels like a dam teenager who just got their hands on their first porn mag as he drinks in your vulgar position.

“Roll over for me, baby.” Soobin commands. You nod, slowly rolling yourself over so you can plant yourself on your hands and knees. It used to feel embarrassing to present yourself so freely to Soobin but you’ve gotten used to this man and his libido to realise he’s way to horny to care for slight imperfections you’ve decided you’ve got in your head.

Your back arches as Soobin places a palm on the skin of your ass. You feel the bed dip as he shuffles forward, stomach clenching when the head of his cock taps against your weeping hole.

You hear Soobin inhale before pausing. He shifts backwards before a hot, wet trail of liquid meet your puffy lips. The needy moan that erupts from your mouth when you realise Soobin’s spat on you again — specifically your pussy, turns you on immensely.

“Tell me if it hurts.” Soobin comments as he guides his cock with his hand. He use the fleshy tip to spread the wetness over your folds, gathering them on the bulbous tip so it makes it easier for him to press into your fluttering hole.

The hand on the palm of your ass smooths to your lower back. You instinctively arch further into the mattress, proving him a better view of your messy pussy. He groans as he presses in, relishing in the way your wet cunt immediately sucks him in.

The stinging is delicious. The way the tears poke at your eyes as you clench them shut would make Soobin cum on the spot if he could see your face. You press your face into the pillows, gasping as he inches in slowly.

“Doing okay, love?” Soobin asks as he stops halfway. You nod against the pillow, biting your lip to swallow any hisses. The stretch does burn but the reward after is too enticing to stop him. Soobin leans forward a bit, accidentally pushing in more as he tries to catch a glance of your face, “Words, baby.”

“G-Good! Keep going, Soob. Need it bad!” You squeal as he inches in more. Your legs want to flail but you ground yourself by biting at the pillow you’ve forced your head into.

Soobin bottoms out swiftly. The base of his hips sit snug against your ass as he allows you a moment to breathe. The way your walls clench rapidly around his cock makes the hand on your back slip to grab at your waist. He holds the flesh firmly between his fingers.

“‘M gonna cum if you keep doing that.” He confesses breathlessly. You whimper out an apology as you try to calm your racing heart.

“Move. It’s okay.” You give Soobin the green light to move.

He rocks his hips slowly. Your eyes almost roll back at how big he is. Soobin doesn’t seem to understand that he is bigger than average because the amount of times you have to tell him he can’t just jackhammer into you from start to finish is astonishing. He doesn’t seem to understand that you barely squeeze him into your cunt before he’s almost breaking into your cervix. Poor guy just wants to make you feel good.

He sighs, both hands finding home on your hips as he finds his rhythm. His thighs slap against the back of your legs, filling the void silence in the room as he slowly speeds up.

Your legs shake. His stupidly big cock practically abuses your gspot, punching and drilling it stupid. Even at the slower pace the mushroom tip makes your toes curl like you’re about to cum on the spot.

“Faster!” You command greedily as you press your hips against Soobin’s. Soobin takes your word for it as he begins to press harder, transferring his weight to the grip on your hips so he can thrust harder.

The bruising placement of his hands makes your mouth water. The thought of him leaving imprints of his hands on the soft flesh like a silent marking of ‘Soobin was here.’ is dirtily tantalising.

“Always so tight. You sure you can take me?” Soobin muses as he thrusts harder. The sounds filling the room are a perverts fantasy. Between the sound of slick skin slapping, obscene squelching and pornographic moans alongside the softest dirty talk would have any person sweating.

You pant and wriggle, hips pushing back to meet Soobin. The plush of your ass slaps against the skin of Soobin’s hips leaving soft little stings in its wake. He slides a hand from your hip to messily play with your clit. You cry as he punches hastily, the force of his thrusts making his hand slip and pull at the sensitive skin.

“‘M gonna cum!” You warn as Soobin continues to draw messy figure 8’s on your clit. He pants as he chases the orgasm, legs and arms burning as he wills himself to keep going.

The sweat that was building on his hairline falls down his face in small streaks and he groans as he flicks his head back. The strands of his hair stick to the sweaty skin, casting a shadow across his face.

“Go ahead, love. Come.” Soobin keens when you clamp down a little firmer than usual. The spasms of your sensitive walls leads him to a quicker release but he refuses to come before you do.

You yelp as a specifically hard thrust makes your vision dot “Fuck! Mhmph!! Soobin — Ha-ah, shit!”

“You sound like a pornstar.” Soobin manages to speak past the whiny whimper that escaped him when the first spirt of his cum shoots into your walls. He spews apologies when he can’t hold it back, fucking you like a pocket pussy as he chases his relief.

You’re practically melted onto the sheets when you come. Whether it’s from Soobin’s off handed comment or the searing hot feeling of his cum costing your walls, one last clench around his bulbous cock and you’re cumming like a whiny bitch.

Soobin lets you ride it out despite his sensitive nature. The sounds that escape him are more adjacent to his usual tone during sex, soft and needy. The slamming of his hips has slowed to a rocking pace. You both hiss as his sensitive heads prods at your spongy spot.

“You did.. so good for me.” Soobin exhales faintly. He slowly pulls out and your walls clench uncomfortably at the feeling. His hands detach themselves from your body as you fully embrace the soft bedding below you. Getting caught up in the heat of the moment made you forget about how hot you are. The warm flush radiates form your body as you both separate for cool air.

You shift, turning so you can face Soobin. He settles against the pillow next to you, facing the ceiling as he catches his breath.

“What got into you?” You ask with a trace of a laugh. Soobin snickers as he rolls his neck softly. He just shrugs.

“Just horny. I guess?”

[heejamas]

1980s HORROR FILM

#SYNOPSIS » you are mostly into girls. everyone knows that. soobin knows that. but that never stopped him from watching you like he knew something you didn’t. he’s your favorite boy, your quietest tension, you flirt with him because you think it’s fun. until one night, a horror movie, and a question you weren’t ready for — are you really not into guys? and maybe it was never about boys. maybe it was just about him.

✰ pairing: soobin x bi!fem!reader … ﹒smut, slowburn, friends to something, power play, pwp ✰ w/c: 15k #nowplaying 1980s horror film - wallows

✰ warnings: explicit sexual content (mdni!!), power dynamics, dom! soobin, oral (m receiving), praise + degradation kink, cum eating, consent is clear but push-pull tension, light pain, confusion around sexuality, reader is bi but leans heavily towards girls

you never really liked boys anyway. except for choi soobin, of course.

which was annoying. infuriating, really. because he was the one boy you let yourself like, just a little, back when college was still new and everything felt like it could be a movie. he was cute in a lazy, floppy-haired way. laughed too loud. had that smug look on his face like he knew girls liked him, and you hated boys like that.

but you liked him, just a little. you liked the way he always saved you a seat. liked the way he looked at you when you talked, like you were saying something important, even when you weren’t. and maybe, once or twice, you thought about kissing him. maybe, if he kissed you first, you wouldn’t have stopped him. and soobin, well, he’s just your friend. even if you’re always in his lap. even if you always call him baby when you’re drunk. even if sometimes he looks at you like he wants to ruin you.

but then you hooked up with that girl from your lit class and remembered: oh. right. you like girls. you’ve always known you were mostly into girls. since before you even had a word for it. barbie made out with other barbie. you had crushes on your best friends. and when you finally kissed a girl for the first time, it felt like everything made sense. you’re bi, technically. but girls were always easier for you. guys were… well, guys. loud, messy, handsy. they talked over you. and every time you tried to “give it a shot” with one, it ended in disappointment. sometimes disgust. you got tired of being disappointed, so you stopped trying.

but then there was soobin.

your friendship with him is… complicated. you watch movies together all the time. mostly 1980's horror films. bad ones, always. you eat from the same bowl of popcorn and scream at the same jump scares. he lets you paint his nails while you ramble about some bullshit while you’re high, and he acts like it doesn’t hurt when you say things like i think i’m into her.

but also, you caught him staring once. not in a gross way. more like… sad? like he wanted to ask something, but didn’t know if he should. well, you didn’t ask either. you just laid your head on his shoulder and said, “you’re my favorite boy, you know that?” and he said, “i better be."

you’ve seen him shirtless more times than you can count. not on purpose, just sleepovers, gym selfies, pool days. but still, his stupid abs live rent-free in your head. and maybe you’ve thought about kissing him. maybe you wonder what it’d feel like to let him touch you, like, really touch you. maybe your brain goes quiet when he calls you pretty. maybe you’re scared of what that means.

maybe you don’t know if you’re confused about him, or just confused about yourself.

and soobin? oh, soobin wants you in ways he can’t say out loud.

it is not sweet, nor soft. no, he wants you in the most carnal way a person can want someone. wants your thighs around his face. wants to hear you whimper. wants to fuck the brat right out of you. and it’s hell, you know, being your friend.

because you’re always touching him. always looking at him like he’s just soobin, your favorite pillow, your emotional support boy. you straddle his lap like it means nothing. call him baby when you’re tipsy. you whisper in his ear at parties like you’re telling him secrets, when really it’s just to feel your lips on his neck. he knows what you’re doing. or maybe you don’t. maybe you’re just like this. maybe you really don’t know what you do to him.

but he does, because he thinks about it way too often. you on your knees. you moaning his name. your lipgloss smeared across his skin. and he hates himself for it, for the way his cock aches just from being around you. for the way he jerks off after you leave his apartment, like some sad, pathetic, friendzoned loser. he wants to blame you, but he can’t. it’s not your fault you’re like this.

and tonight’s the worst. today is taehyun’s birthday party. everyone’s sweating through their clothes and the floor’s sticky and someone’s already puked in the sink. but you look unreal, you always do. little black skirt, bare thighs, something sparkly on your chest. and of course soobin wants to bite you.

you’re drunk, but not too drunk. just buzzed enough to be mean about it. to smile at him with that lipglossed mouth and say shit like: “you know you’re stupid hot, right?”

he freezes. “what?”

you grin. lean in, real close. “you heard me.”

he tries not to react. tries to keep his eyes on your face and not the way your fingers trail down his arm. but his skin’s buzzing, and you’re everywhere. your perfume, your voice, your thighs on his. you’re pressing into him like you want him to do something. and fuck, he almost does. but you’re gone again, like you always are. off to refill your drink, or to dance, or to do whatever the fuck you do when you’re tipsy and glowing and unstoppable.

he finds you later in the kitchen. kissing some girl against the counter, all teeth and tongue and fingers knotted in hair. and he shouldn’t be surprised. he’s not surprised. he’s just, well. soobin is hard.

and ashamed. and dizzy with it. so he turns away. drinks whatever’s in his cup. vodka? piss? who cares.

an hour later, you sit on his lap like nothing happened. like you didn’t just let some other girl bite your neck while he watched. like he isn’t the one unraveling.

“hey,” you whisper. one arm around his shoulders, nails grazing the back of his neck. “you okay?” he doesn’t answer. you tilt your head. “what’re you thinking about?”

he says it before he can stop himself. “don’t know what to say to you,” he breathes. “i feel… you’re always on my mind.”

you freeze for a second. then your face softens. not in the way he wants. “soobin…” you laugh, too gentle. “i’m really not that into guys.”

the words hit like a blade to the gut. or maybe like a jump scare in one of those shitty 1980s horror films you always make him watch. the kind where someone’s about to get gutted, but the music’s still cheerful. like the world doesn’t know something awful is happening.

and he’s sitting there, hard as a rock, hands on your waist, and he can’t even move. just smiles, swallows it down. lets the blood drain from his chest to somewhere lower. because fuck it, right? because he wants you so bad he’ll take anything. even this.

but after that night, things started to change inside you.

you didn’t want to admit it, not even to yourself. you played it off, laughed it off, because that’s what you always do when things get a little too real. but something shifted, something you didn’t know how to name. but you weren’t stupid. you knew what you were doing that night. you were drunk, yes. but not that drunk. just loose enough to let your hands wander. just tipsy enough to call soobin pretty and pretend it didn’t mean anything. just bold enough to climb into his lap and act like you belonged there.

and god, the way he looked at you. he always looked at you soft. like you were something delicate, something sacred. but that night? something in his eyes was darker. heavier. something that made your stomach flip and your thighs press together just a little.

you liked it, you fucking liked it. and then you said it — i’m really not that into guys — and watched it hit him like a punch to the face. you weren’t lying. well, not entirely. you are bi. you always have been. but it’s been a long time since a man made you feel anything. it’s been years since one touched you and your body responded like this. and it’s not like you didn’t try, you did. dates, hookups, situationships. they all fizzled out into nothing. no spark. no heat. just another guy thinking he deserved something just for showing up.

but soobin isn’t like them. soobin is sweet. soobin holds your hand when you’re hungover and makes playlists for your moods and never pushes, never assumes, never demands. he’s soft-spoken, polite, too damn good for his own sanity. and maybe that’s why you liked teasing him so much. maybe that’s why you started testing your limits.

you knew he liked you. he never said it, but it clung to everything he did. the way he lingered when you touched him. the way he looked away when you changed clothes in front of him, but not too fast. the way he let you flirt and flirt and flirt, and never told you to stop.

and well, you’re a little fucked up, you know that. you like playing with fire just to see how long it takes to burn. and with soobin? soobin had this face, all soft lashes and pink lips and that stupid shy smile, and yet you knew he wasn’t innocent, no, not really. you’d catch him looking sometimes, like really looking. not just at your face, but at your thighs. your chest. your mouth. the hunger was there, hiding behind the sweet boy act.

and it did something to you, something ugly. something hot.

so you started to lean in closer when you talked to him. started calling him baby more often, just to see how his ears turned red. you wore shorts that barely covered anything when he came over. you let your fingers linger a little too long on his hand when you passed him things. and when you caught him staring, you smiled.

but you told yourself it was just fun. you told yourself you were figuring things out, seeing if your body could still want a guy. if your brain could still go there. and if it was anyone else, you probably would’ve pulled away already. but it’s soobin, and you trust him. and that’s what makes it worse. because now every time you’re alone together, you can feel it crackling between you. every laugh, every brush of skin, every too-long stare— it all builds and builds until you feel like your bones might snap from the pressure of not doing anything.

you wake up thinking about his mouth. you fall asleep wondering how he tastes. you touch yourself and pretend it’s still just curiosity. you don’t know what this makes you. don’t know if you’re into him, or just into how he makes you feel. don’t know if you want him because it’s him… or because your body is begging for something and he’s the first person to really look at you like he’s starving.

and maybe that’s the scariest part. not wanting him, but not knowing why you want him.

so you text him two nights later.

[you]: hey, movie night?

[you]: u owe me horror and gore

he answers in under five minutes.

[soobin]: omw

you stare at the message longer than necessary, because you don’t know what you’re doing. but also— you know exactly what you’re doing.

you pick the movie carefully, not something classy. the slumber party massacre. a cult slasher soaked in tits and blood and bad acting. the kind of movie that makes you feel sticky just watching it. the kind of movie you’d make fun of together. the kind of movie where sexual tension is part of the plot, of course

you throw on a hoodie and tiny shorts. not for him, not really. you just want to be comfortable. or you just want to see what happens.

and when soobin shows up, he looks like he always does. hoodie, sweats, his hair slightly messed up from the wind. but his eyes flick to your legs when you open the door. just for a second. and that’s all it takes. that second burns straight through you.

“hey,” he says, voice a little too low.

“you brought snacks?” you ask, already turning your back to him, pretending your skin isn’t hot.

“yeah,” he says, and when you glance back, he’s still standing there, holding the chips awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“you ever seen the slumber party massacre?” you ask, flopping onto your bed. 

soobin blinks. “uh, yeah. tits and blood, right?”

you grin. “exactly.”

you settle on your bed with the laptop open, lights off except for the screen’s dim glow. he kicks off his shoes and joins you, back against the pillows, a little too far from you. he swears his heart skips. or maybe it’s his dick. hard to tell.

you don’t say anything, you just press play. and the movie starts. basically: girls scream, clothes come off, fake blood splashes across the screen. it’s stupid. you’ve seen it before. but you don’t care. because all you can feel is the space between your bodies.

you stretch your legs out and let one brush against his thigh. you pretend it’s accidental. it’s not. he stiffens a little, but doesn’t pull away. fifteen minutes in, you shift closer. your bare thigh fully pressed to his now. he still doesn’t move, but his breathing changes, though. a little shallower. you don’t look at him, not yet. you lean your head back, neck exposed, hoodie slipping off one shoulder.

you’re not watching the movie anymore. you’re watching him watch the movie. he’s tense and quiet, too quiet. and then one of the girls on screen moans — loud and ridiculous and obviously fake — and you can practically feel soobin’s whole body flinch beside you.

you turn to him, finally, and your voice comes out low. teasing. “you okay?”

he nods, too quickly. “mhm.”

you smile and lean in a little closer. “you’re so jumpy. it’s just a dumb movie.”

he swallows hard. “yeah, i know.”

and then silence again. well, except it’s not silence. it’s the sound of his breath catching every time you shift. the rustle of sheets when your leg slides higher against his. the creak of the bed when you lean into his side and pretend not to notice how he holds himself like he’s about to explode. you rest your chin on his shoulder. your lips brush his neck. again— just pretend.

your eyes are half-lidded as you stare at the screen, though you’ve long since stopped registering anything happening in the movie. he’s so still beside you it’s almost funny, like he thinks if he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe too loudly, the tension will somehow break on its own. but you feel him. the way his thigh tenses beneath yours. the way his hands are clenched, fingers digging into his own leg. the way he keeps his eyes on the screen like he’s being tested. like this is some exam he has to pass.

“you still think this movie’s just tits and blood?” you ask voice low, teasing. your lips graze the curve of his neck just slightly as you speak, enough to make him flinch.

he lets out a sound, half a laugh, half a breath he’d been holding. “that’s literally all it is,” he says, but his voice is tight, a little hoarse, like it’s caught on something he’s not saying. “plot? never heard of her.”

you grin, slow and lazy. “right. because you only watch movies for the plot.”

“i do, actually.” he turns his head a little, just enough to glance at you, and you catch the flicker of something in his eyes, maybe amusement, restraint, a quiet kind of want that makes your stomach flip. “that’s why i’m here. for the deep narrative of slumber party massacre.”

you laugh, you can’t help it. “mm, yeah. so insightful.”

“exactly,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping (not very subtly) to your mouth. “truly… cinematic.”

there’s a beat of silence where neither of you speaks, where the only sound is the girl on screen screaming as a power drill tears through a door. you shift closer again, just barely, and his breath catches. you can feel the way the air between you is thick. the push and pull of something neither of you wants to name.

you smile, almost wicked, and lean into him fully now, your weight settling half across his chest, your hand resting on his stomach, too casual to be casual at all. you can feel the tension in him, the way his body is coiled tight, like he’s holding himself back from something. “hey..” you whisper, voice syrupy and low. “you uncomfortable?”

he swallows hard. “no,” he says, way too fast. “why would i be?”

you let your fingers drag slowly, lazily over the hem of his hoodie. “dunno. you just seem kinda… stiff.”

you know you’re being cruel. you know exactly what you’re doing, and part of you hates yourself for it. and the other part (the louder one) is trying to make sense of the chaos inside you, the confusion, the heat, the sudden ache that’s been gnawing at you ever since that night at the party. you tell yourself this is about clarity, you just want to know.

he exhales sharply, like he’s trying to keep himself from combusting. “you’re really playing with fire right now,” he mutters, half under his breath.

you tilt your head again, wide-eyed and fake-innocent. “me? i would never.”

he turns to you then and suddenly he’s close, so close that his nose almost brushes yours, and all the tension from before condenses into a single, dangerous moment. “are you really not that into guys?” he asks, low and careful, like he’s trying to sound casual but can’t quite pull it off. “or are you just… not into me?”

the words hit harder than you expect. you blink, thrown for a second. you were playing a game, but suddenly you’re not sure what the rules are anymore. and he doesn’t move, doesn’t look away. he’s not teasing now, he’s just waiting. you open your mouth, then close it again. because what the hell are you supposed to say? you could lie. you could laugh it off. you could flirt your way out of it like you always do. but you don’t. because suddenly you feel a little sick, like something’s lodged in your chest.

“i…” you start, but your voice cracks, and you have to look away. you pull back just slightly, your hand slipping off his stomach, and the loss of contact makes you feel cold. “i don’t know.”

and that’s the truth, and it’s the worst answer you could give. but soobin doesn’t respond right away. he just watches you for a moment, eyes sharp, mouth tight. “you know,” he says finally, voice low and calm in that dangerous way, “i can’t keep pretending this is nothing. that you don’t know what you’re doing.”

your breath hitches. “i didn’t mean to—”

“yes, you did,” he cuts in, not harsh, but not gentle either. “you did mean to. you do it all the time.”

you want to argue, but you can’t. because he’s right. “i don’t know what i want,” you admit, your voice small now. “it’s not about you. it’s not— it’s not because i don’t think about you. i do. i think about you more than i should.”

he exhales slowly. “then stop acting like it’s a joke.”

you look up at him, and suddenly he’s too close again, and the space between your bodies feels like it might collapse. “i’m just... scared,” you whisper, and it’s the first honest thing you’ve said all night.

his expression softens, not completely, not enough to erase the frustration and the want, but enough to remind you who he is. that it’s soobin. that he’s not going to take advantage. that he just wants you to be sure. “then say that,” he says gently. “don’t play with me.”

you don’t say anything at first. you just sit there with your hands in your lap like some kind of penitent virgin, like you weren’t half on top of him five seconds ago whispering in his ear like a tease. it’s funny, in a pathetic kind of way. you don’t even realize how obvious it is, how you’re still pressed up against him, still breathing like you ran a mile, still watching his mouth like it might do something terrible. and soobin? soobin’s done pretending he doesn’t notice.

“you know what your problem is?” he says, voice calm in a way that’s somehow more dangerous than yelling.

you blink. “um—”

he leans in just slightly, not enough to touch, but close enough to make you feel it. “you think you can keep playing these games with me and i’m just gonna sit here and take it.”

your stomach flips. “i wasn’t—”

“you weren’t?” he cuts in, tone sharp now. “what was that then? just casual flirting with your friend since you are 'not that into guys’? calling me baby and crawling into my lap and rubbing up against me during a fucking slasher movie? just normal behavior?”

you open your mouth. close it again. because yeah. yeah, okay. you have no argument. he laughs, humorless. “you want to know what i think?”

you don’t, you really don’t, but you nod anyway. he shifts his body, finally, his legs opening just slightly, taking up more space, spine straighter now, eyes locked on you like he’s finally tired of pretending he’s not starving. he doesn’t touch you, not yet, but every inch of his posture says he could. would, if you let him.

“i think you like pretending you’re in control,” he says. “i think you like pushing me just far enough to feel powerful. but you never let it go further, because then it’s real. and if it’s real, you can’t hide behind your sexuality crisis or your drunk-girl flirty bullshit.”

you suck in a sharp breath. “wow.”

“yeah,” he says. “wow.”

there’s a long pause. you don’t move, but your skin’s buzzing, your thighs pressed together like that’ll help. it won’t. your whole body’s betraying you. and the worst part is that he knows. because he continues: “but here’s the thing,” he continues, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “you’re not in control. not anymore.”

“oh?” you shoot back, voice a little thinner than you want. “and you are?”

he tilts his head, eyes dark now, smile lazy. “wanna find out?”

you hate him. you hate that your legs feel weak and your face is hot and your stomach is doing flips like you’re seventeen and he’s the first boy who ever looked at you like he meant it. you swallow hard. “you think i’m scared of you?”

“i know you’re scared of how bad you want me,” he says, and it’s not cocky. it’s not a guess. it’s a goddamn fact.

and you hate that he’s right. so you laugh, mostly to cover the way your heart is slamming in your chest. “you’re full of yourself.”

“maybe,” he shrugs. “but you’re still sitting in my lap like, so.”

you blink. your brain short-circuits a little. “jesus christ.”

“say the word,” he says, voice dropping just enough to make your spine tingle. “say it and i’ll stop. we can finish the movie, you can pretend you’re totally unbothered, and i’ll go home like nothing happened.”

you look at him, and he’s still soobin. your sweet, smart, quietly hot friend who lets you paint his nails and listens to your drunk girl rants and always brings the right snacks. except now his eyes are blown wide, his lips are parted, and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. you’re not used to this version of him, but god, it’s doing something to you.

“i’m not saying stop,” you whisper, and it sounds like a confession.

he grins, slow and dangerous. “didn’t think so.”

you don’t have time to think before he moves. he’s grabbing your waist and pulling you into his lap like you weigh nothing. just grabs you, shifts you over until you’re straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, face inches from his. like it’s easy, like he’s done it before.

your breath catches in your throat. your hands find his shoulders out of instinct, grounding yourself, but your head is spinning, because he’s so close. his hoodie smells like laundry detergent and something distinctly him, and you’re hyper-aware of how warm his hands feel on your hips, how his thumbs drag slowly against the waistband of your shorts like he’s barely restraining himself.

“you okay?” he asks, but there’s no softness in his voice this time. just control. “still playing?”

you blink at him, wide-eyed. “i’m not—”

“don’t lie,” he cuts in, eyes dark and steady on yours. “not now.”

your lips part, but no sound comes out. you can feel the tension in your own body of the pull, the ache, the raw want that’s been building for weeks, maybe months, maybe longer than you care to admit. and now it’s all boiling under your skin. he leans back slightly against the pillows, relaxed now, one hand still heavy on your hip. his other arm stretches behind his head, the picture of composure, like he’s not losing his mind with you sitting like this on top of him.

“so,” he says, almost lazily, like this is just another dumb conversation between friends. “what do you like?”

you blink. “what?”

“sexually,” he clarifies, casual as anything, like he’s asking what your favorite color is. “what do you like? do you even know?” you swallow hard and he tilts his head, watching you. “you’ve been playing this game for weeks. teasing me, acting like you don’t notice when i’m hard because you’re grinding on me. so i wanna know. is it just for fun? or do you actually get off on this?”

your cheeks burn. you should get up, you should say something. instead, you shift slightly in his lap, barely, and his hands tighten on your waist in warning. “don’t do that unless you’re ready to take responsibility,” he says, voice lower now, dangerous. “you wanted to know how i feel? this is it.”

you bite your lip, heart pounding. you feel too exposed, even fully dressed. like he’s peeled something open inside you and now there’s nowhere to hide. “you’re being mean,” you whisper.

he grins, sharp and slow. “good. someone’s gotta stop letting you play dumb.” you stare at him, chest tight, skin buzzing. “so,” he says again, voice softer now but no less intense. “what do you like?”

you hesitate. not because you don’t know, but because saying it out loud would make it real. and he watches your face, expression unreadable. and then he leans in again, voice low in your ear. “tell me what you want,” he murmurs. “or nothing happens. i’m not gonna touch you unless you ask for it.”

you don’t mean to move, not really, but your hips shift slightly, like your body’s trying to answer for you. your lips part, and for a second, you just breathe. you’re not sure where your voice went. everything’s tight in your throat, but soobin doesn’t rush you. he just waits, watching you from below with a look that’s way too composed for someone whose thighs you’re currently sitting on.

“i…” you start, barely above a whisper. “i like…”

he arches an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at his mouth. “yeah?”

you glare at him, cheeks burning. “don’t be smug.”

“i’m literally just sitting here,” he says, all innocent, like his fingers aren’t gripping your hips like a fucking anchor. “you’re the one grinding on me.”

you huff, exasperated, but your body betrays you again— your thighs tighten, your nails dig lightly into his shoulders. you lean in closer so you don’t have to look at him full in the eyes when you say it. “i like…” you pause, then exhale hard. “i like being in control. usually.”

he hums. “yeah?”

“with girls,” you clarify, quieter now. “it’s just always been easier. they… let me lead.”

soobin’s eyes flicker darker, but he keeps the same calm expression on his face, his voice steady. “so you’re a top,” he says, teasing, like he’s just making an observation about the weather.

you roll your eyes. “not like that.”

“no?” he tilts his head. “how then?”

you bite your lip, struggling for the words. “i mean— i like the dynamic. i like girls with that…” your voice drops. “with that… innocent face. it’s hot.”

you feel soobin’s breath hitch under you, just barely. it makes your heart spike in your chest. he laughs softly, but there’s something sharp underneath it. “so is that how you see me?”

you finally meet his eyes. they’re unreadable now, but locked onto yours with a focus that makes your stomach twist. “no,” you say, and your voice is firmer this time. “you’re not like that.”

he hums again, this time low and slow. “so what am i like, then?”

you swallow, your hands sliding slightly down his arms. “you’re… harder to read. you play along, but i know you’re not passive. you pretend you don’t care, but i can feel it when you touch me.”

“yeah?” he says, fingers tightening just slightly at your waist. “and what does that make you?”

this time you don’t look away. “i don’t know,” you admit. “i like… control. but sometimes—” you pause, frustrated at how hard it is to say. “sometimes i like giving it up.”

“why?” he asks, and his voice is quieter now. not mean, just curious. like he genuinely wants to know what makes you tick.

you think about it. “it depends,” you say slowly, choosing your words with care. “on how the person treats me. if they make me feel safe or wanted. if they deserve it.”

his gaze doesn’t waver. “and am i treating you like that right now?”

that question hits somewhere deep, somewhere between your lungs and your core, and you can’t tell if it makes you want to run or stay forever, so you nod. and he smirks, not cruel, not cocky. just knowing. “good,” he says, voice low. “because i’m not trying to play pretend with you anymore.”

you nod again, smaller this time, your breath shaky. “i don’t want to play either.”

his thumb strokes gently along your side, slow and steady, grounding you. his other hand moves up to rest lightly against the back of your neck, just holding you there, close enough to feel his breath against your lips. “you like being in control,” he says, like he’s repeating it back just to make sure you know he heard you. “but you don’t need to be.”

you don’t answer out loud. your body answers for you, because your hips are rolling forward slightly without permission, the friction making you gasp. his grip tightens instantly, holding you in place. “ah ah,” he tuts, voice like velvet. “you still haven’t told me what you want.”

your head drops forward, forehead resting against his. “you’re so fucking annoying.”

he grins. “am i?”

you’re burning. your whole body is vibrating with need and frustration and anticipation. you feel like you’re going to scream if he doesn’t do something, or let you do something. “i want you to touch me,” you whisper, barely audible.

he leans in just a bit more. “gonna have to say that louder, baby.”

you grit your teeth. “fuck you.”

he smiles sweetly. “you wish.”

your fingers tighten in the fabric of his hoodie. your thighs are trembling now, and you’re so wound up you feel like your skin might split open. you inhale shakily, close your eyes, and say it again. louder this time. clearer. “i want you to touch me.”

you feel the way his breath catches, like even he wasn’t prepared to hear you say it like that. and then his voice drops, low and hot in your ear. 

“good girl.”

you almost moan at his words, but you bite your lips and hold yourself back. his hands rest on your thighs like they live there. his thumb draws slow, absent circles against your skin, barely noticeable if your entire nervous system wasn’t screaming at you. his eyes are on you like he’s watching a storm roll in. and you’re trying not to come apart over a fucking stare. you shift a little, chasing friction, and he smirks immediately.

“comfortable?” he asks, voice too soft to be innocent.

you glare. “you’re enjoying this.”

“obviously,” he says. “you’re so easy to read it’s kind of adorable.”

you roll your eyes, annoyed and flustered, which only seems to please him more. his thumb trails higher, a little closer to the hem of your shorts, but doesn’t go any further. he’s doing this on purpose. you know he is.

“you’re not gonna kiss me?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

he raises an eyebrow, gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. “is that what you want?” your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. he smiles, slow and cruel and so fucking pretty. “then kiss me.” you freeze. his voice drops, lower now. “what? don’t get shy now.”

you want to hit him. you want to kiss him. you want to melt into him. mostly, you want him to stop talking. but you don’t move. so soobin leans in and exhales. “or do you just want me to do everything for you?”

you swallow hard. “you’re insufferable.”

he hums, grinning. his hand moves again, dragging up the back of your thigh, slow and deliberate, until he’s cupping the underside of it, holding you just a little tighter. “you gonna kiss me or what?” he asks again, voice practically a purr. “or are you scared of that too?”

“i’m not scared.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

you stare at him. you can feel your pulse everywhere — in your neck, your wrists, between your legs. he’s right there. he’s asking for it. and still, you hesitate. so he keeps going. “you want it to be me?” he asks, fingers now pressing into your thigh a little rougher. “you want me to make the first move? pin you down? take it from you?” you shiver. “i could,” he adds. “but i won’t. not until you ask for it.”

his words hit low and deep, and you can’t tell if your thighs are shaking from nerves or want. maybe both. so you reach up, slow and hesitant, and brush your fingers along his jaw. he doesn’t move, he just waits. and when you finally lean in and kiss him, it’s like biting into lightning.

he doesn’t move at first. lets you kiss him, tentative, searching, like he wants to see how far you’ll go on your own. but when your fingers curl into the collar of his hoodie and your hips shift forward instinctively, he groans low in his throat and grabs your waist tight. his mouth moves against yours like he’s been waiting. like he’s been holding back for weeks and now he’s finally letting himself want. well, because he is. so he kisses rougher, deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth like it belongs there. and when you whimper, he pulls back just barely, breathing hard.

“that what you wanted?” he asks, voice ragged now. you nod, dazed. he kisses the corner of your mouth. your jaw. down your neck. everywhere but where you’re begging for it. “you’re gonna have to be more specific,” he murmurs against your skin. “i wanna hear exactly what you like.”

your hips grind down again. he grips your thighs harder, holds you in place. “you like being on top?” he asks, almost amused.

you nod, biting your lip. “sometimes.”

“but not tonight?” he asks, tilting his head. “you want me to take over, baby?” you can’t speak. you just breathe and nod. he grins. “you know what to do then.”

you press your forehead to his, shaky and desperate and so ready to say it. “please,” you whisper. “i want you.”

“how bad?” he asks.

“i can’t think,” you breathe. “i need you to do something.”

he chuckles — low, smug, wrecked. “good. now we’re getting somewhere.”

his hand is on your throat before you even process it. not squeezing, just resting there, firm enough to feel the beat of your pulse against his palm. he holds your gaze steady with his, like he’s daring you to pull away. you don’t. your breath comes out shaky and uneven, and his thumb strokes just once along the column of your neck. “say it again,” he murmurs, voice low and unforgiving.

you swallow hard. “need you to do something. please.”

he nods once, like that’s all he needed. his other hand slides up under your hoodie, knuckles brushing the bare skin of your waist. his fingers are cold at first, but the way they move is purposeful, not searching, not unsure. he knows what he’s doing. he drags his hand up slowly, deliberately, until his palm rests just under your bra.

“like this?” he asks, thumb teasing the edge of the fabric. “or do you want more?”

you gasp, breath catching. “more.”

he grins, lazy and infuriating. “thought so.”

he slides your hoodie up, not bothering to take it off, just pushing it out of the way enough to get what he wants. his hands move with a kind of patience that makes you ache, like he’s got all the time in the world to make you lose your mind. he cups your breasts through the thin fabric, thumbing over your nipple until it hardens beneath his touch. you arch into it without thinking. “you like that?” he asks, voice close to your ear.

“yes.”

“say it.”

“i like it.”

his hand dips lower, sliding down your stomach, teasing the waistband of your shorts. his fingers toy with the edge like he’s still deciding if he’s going to keep going. “you want me to take these off too?”you nod, dizzy. he clicks his tongue. “use your words.”

“yes. take them off.”

he drags them down slowly, watching your face the whole time. he wants to see everything— the way your lips part, the way your body tenses when he touches you, the way you shiver when the fabric brushes down your legs. you kick them off and now you’re in nothing but your underwear, straddling him, your hoodie still half pushed up, breath coming in shaky bursts.

“fuck,” he mutters, more to himself than you. “you’re really just gonna sit here looking like that and expect me to behave?”

“i like it,” you manage to say.

he smirks. “of course you do.” 

his hands slide down slow, fingers splaying wide as they skim the sides of your thighs, tracing the shape of you like he’s memorizing it. and then they’re under your ass, lifting you just enough so he can shift your panties to the side, fingers brushing over where you’re wet and aching. he whistles low, mouth curling into a grin. “fuck,” he mutters. “you really needed this, didn’t you?”

you let out a shaky breath, gripping his shoulders like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. your whole body jolts at the first real contact, the drag of his fingers through your folds, slow and sure, like he’s testing what you can handle. “so wet for me already,” he murmurs, circling your clit with maddening precision. “and i haven’t even done anything yet.”

he rubs slow circles with the heel of his palm, watching you squirm. your hips jerk instinctively, but his hands pin you down. he keeps you still, makes you feel every slow movement, every teasing glide. he’s not in a rush. you might be desperate, but he isn’t. not anymore. still, he slips a finger inside you, slow, deliberate, and your whole body tightens around him. he groans low in his throat.

“tight,” he mutters, adding a second finger without warning. “jesus. you’d fall apart if i fucked you right now.” you moan, breathless. “you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” he says, curling his fingers just right. “after all that teasing.”

“yes—”

his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing tight, lazy circles as his fingers fuck into you deep and steady. you can’t breathe, can’t think, just clutch at him like you’re drowning. and then he leans in close, voice a growl against your ear. “you need someone to put you in your place,” he says. “you act like you’re in charge, but look at you now. look how easy it is to break you.”

your thighs tremble around his hips, pleasure building sharp and fast, overwhelming. “you like being handled like this, don’t you?” he asks again, his tone dark, laced with smug delight. 

“yes,” you gasp, hips twitching.

“of course you do,” he says. “you like being fucked slow. deep. with a hand on your throat so you remember who’s in charge.” his other hand slides up again, fingers wrapping gently around your neck and your whole body tenses in response. “you make everything so difficult,” he says. “all your mixed signals, all your little games. but this? this is simple. this is what you really wanted.”

your walls clench around his fingers as your body tips over the edge, sudden and hard and overwhelming. your mouth falls open in a moan you can’t stop, hips jerking despite the grip he has on you. he doesn’t let up. just keeps fucking you through it, watching your face the whole time.

“look at you,” he breathes. “so fucking pretty like this. i should’ve done this a long time ago.” your body’s shaking when he finally slows down. he pulls his fingers out and brings them to his lips, licking them clean like he’s tasting something expensive. “mm,” he says. “sweet.”

you stare at him, wrecked and speechless, still trying to remember how your lungs work. then he leans in, takes his fingers back to your clenching cunt again, his voice rough in your ear. “tell me how it feels.”

you grip his shoulders tighter, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie. “it feels good.”

“how good?”

“i don’t know—fuck—soobin—”

he presses a little harder, the friction just right now, and your hips jerk again. “you like when i touch you here?” he asks, eyes locked on yours, no trace of softness in his voice.

“yes,” you breathe. “yes, i do.”

his fingers slide between your folds, slick and warm, and he lets out a low groan. “fuck,” he mutters again. “you’re soaked.” you whimper, forehead dropping to his shoulder. his fingers move with ease, finding your clit again and circling it with infuriating slowness.

“look at me,” he says. you lift your head, barely. your eyes meet his, and the intensity there nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. he curls his fingers inside you, hitting just the right spot, and you cry out before you can stop yourself. your hips grind down, chasing the pressure. “needy little thing,” he says, amused. “so much for being in control.”

you whimper again, half shame, half desperation. he’s relentless now, thrusting his fingers in and out while his thumb circles your clit, pushing you higher, closer. “soobin—”

“tell me you’re close.”

“i’m close,” you breathe, eyes squeezing shut.

he leans in again, lips ghosting over your ear. “then say please.” you hesitate, and his pace slows. “come on,” he murmurs. “you’ve been bossing me around for months. let me hear you beg.”

you’re shaking now, thighs trembling around him, every nerve on fire. “please,” you whisper.

“louder.”

“please, soobin—please don’t stop.”

his mouth curves into a grin, and he gives you exactly what you asked for. “good girl,” he says again, and this time, you fall apart in his fingers, and god, this feeling is smoothing, something you don’t remember feeling it before. 

you’re still in his lap, limbs loose, head buzzing, the movie’s looping on the laptop like background noise at a bad dream rave. his hand is parked on your waist—heavy but not pushing, more placeholder than threat—and you can’t decide if you’re melting into him or trying to keep from slipping clean off the planet.

he’s the one who breaks the hush. “you’re thinking again,” he says, voice low.

you don’t look at him. “i’m recovering.”

“that’s what i’m worried about.” his thumb taps a slow beat against your skin. “every time you start thinking, you talk yourself out of wanting me.”

you snort, tired and raw. “i literally just made a mess on your hand. i think the wanting part is confirmed.”

“for now,” he says. “in ten minutes you’ll start reciting the ‘i’m not that into guys’ speech again, and i’ll be back at square one.”

you lift your eyes, glare half-heartedly. “square one was me calling you pretty in a kitchen full of tequila fumes. i’d say we’ve upgraded.”

“fine,” he admits, lips twitching. “square two, then. still a demotion from where i’m sitting.”

you finally meet his gaze, and it is clear, unflinching, annoyingly perceptive, and something inside you trips. the room tilts a millimeter. because you realize he isn’t holding you tighter, he isn’t trying to start round two, he’s just… waiting.

the silence stretches. your brain tries to sprint off a cliff, but your body’s too heavy to follow. so you talk, because you can’t not. “i’m not gonna pretend i’m suddenly into guys again,” you say, words slurred around honesty. “and i’m definitely not in love with you, so don’t get weird.”

“bold of you to assume i want either,” he shoots back, all teeth.

you blink. “you don’t?”

“i like you messy,” he says, shrugging one shoulder. “in love is boring. this—” he gestures to the tangle of limbs and shame you’re both stewing in— “this is entertaining.”

you should probably punch him. instead you laugh, breathless. “you are absolutely dirty.”

he smiles, small but real. “dirty keeps you on my lap, apparently.”

you roll your eyes, shift, realize he’s still hard beneath you and freeze. he notices, of course he does, and tilts his head, studying your face. “thinking again,” he murmurs.

“wondering,” you correct, voice thin.

“about?”

“if i should, um… help you?”

his brows lift. “help?” he echoes, amused. “sound mighty altruistic of you.”

“shut up,” you mutter, cheeks burning. “i’m new at this.”

“new at what?”

“wanting a guy enough to… you know.”

he hums, all fake contemplation. “we could have a symposium. ‘introduction to blowing choi soobin.’” you smack his chest; he laughs, catches your wrist, threads your fingers through his. the joke dissolves, but the warmth sticks. “we can slow down,” he says, quieter now. “or stop. or order pizza. i don’t care—just don’t ghost me.”

you stare at him, throat tight. “i don’t want to stop,” you whisper.

his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “good. then tell me how you want to start.”

the question hangs there, simple but also terrifying. your pulse trips a little faster. “kiss me again,” you answer, voice steadier than you feel. “but slow.”

“slow.” he nods, serious. “any further instructions, boss?”

“don’t call me boss,” you mutter.

“princess?” you glare. 

“soobin,” you warn.

his grin spreads, wolfish. “see? thinking stopped. progress.”

he leans in (slow, like requested) and kisses you softer than before, mouths parting, breath catching, no rush. your hands slide up into his hair, anchor there; his free hand cups the back of your neck, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. and when you finally pull back, you’re trembling again, but it’s a quieter shake.

his eyes search yours. “so?”

you laugh into his shoulder. “shut up and keep going.”

“sure,” he whispers, mouth brushing yours, “but remember—if you want more, you ask.”

you nod, firm. “i will. i promise.”

you don’t remember when his hands started moving again, but they’re under your hoodie again now. his mouth is still pressed against yours, but the kiss has changed. it’s deeper and slower. and he’s not letting you lead anymore. he tilts your chin up with one hand, holds you there like he’s adjusting the angle of something he owns. his other hand slides along your spine, dragging heat everywhere it touches.

his hands slide back down to your hips, pulling you toward him until you’re close enough to feel everything again. he shifts his leg just slightly between yours and applies the lightest pressure, forcing you to roll your hips against his thigh. your mouth falls open without meaning to.

“feels good?” he asks, low.

“yeah,” you whisper.

he hums, unimpressed. “what was that?”

“yes,” you say again, louder.

his hand moves to the back of your neck. not rough, just enough to hold you still. to keep you looking at him. “you’re gonna do what i say,” he says. “because you want to. not because i make you.” you nod. “say it.”

“i want to,” you whisper.

“you want what?”

“i want to do what you say.”

he smiles. “then take your hoodie off.”

your hands move before your brain catches up. you pull it over your head, toss it to the floor. your chest is rising and falling too fast, and he’s just sitting there, watching you like you’re a puzzle he’s already solved.

his gaze drags over your body, slow and hungry, but he still doesn’t touch. instead, he leans back slightly and says, “take off your bra.”

your fingers fumble a little, but you do it. it joins the hoodie on the floor. he exhales like it’s the first time he’s allowed himself to. and then he looks you in the eyes again. your body’s humming, nerves and heat and need all tangled together. his hands slide up to cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, slow and deliberate. he watches every twitch of your face as he touches you.

“you like being told what to do?” he asks, voice low, dragging.

“yeah.”

he raises an eyebrow. “say it.”

“i like being told what to do.”

he kisses you slow one last time before pulling back. “then get off,” he says quietly.

you blink, breathless, already lightheaded. “what?”

he tilts his head. “off my lap. on your knees. on the ​​floor.”

you stare for half a second. then your body moves before your brain can argue. you climb off the bed and drop down onto the floor between his legs, palms pressing into the hardwood for balance. your knees hit the floor, and the air shifts.

he exhales like the sight alone is enough to wreck him. his legs spread wider, slow, deliberate, and he leans forward a little, one hand cupping the side of your face. his thumb drags along your cheek, down to your lip. “look at you,” he murmurs. “you ever been on your knees for a guy before?” you shake your head. he smiles. smirks, really. “good.”

his thumb presses against your bottom lip, slipping inside just slightly. your mouth parts for him on instinct. “open,” he says, and you do. he pushes his thumb in deeper, then pulls it out just as slow. “good girl.”

your breath stutters. he leans forward more, one elbow resting on his thigh as he looks down at you. “you’re doing so well for me. on your knees, waiting for what i give you. you don’t even know how pretty you look like this.” his other hand slides into your hair, not hard, but firm. guiding and steady. you can feel how calm he is—like this is just natural for him. like having someone kneeling between his legs is a position he was meant for. “hands behind your back,” he says.

you obey, slowly, feeling the shift in your own body when you do. your balance changes. your chest pushes forward slightly. your breath feels deeper and needier. he smiles. “you want to do something for me?”

“yes,” you whisper.

“then ask.” your throat tightens. he leans closer, almost nose-to-nose, his voice a quiet threat. “ask me what you want, baby.”

“can i…” your voice breaks. you swallow. “can i touch you?”

he leans back, sits up straight, eyes heavy on yours. “you want to touch me?”

“yes.”

“where?”

your cheeks burn. “your cock.”

his breath hitches. he doesn’t show much, but that gets him. a shift in his jaw. a slight flex of his thigh. “say it again.”

you breathe in. “i want to touch your cock.”

he smiles. “then take it out.”

you move carefully, your hands now free again, fingers working his waistband, slow and precise. you don’t rush. he watches you the entire time, like you’re a performance made just for him. and when you finally pull him out, hard and heavy in your palm, his breath leaves in one long, quiet exhale.

you look up, eyes wide. “now what?” you ask, voice barely there.

he smirks again, hand back in your hair. “first, you keep those pretty eyes on mine the entire time,” he says, voice low and dark. his hand tightens just slightly in your hair, not painful, just present. like a reminder: he’s the one leading. “start slow,” he says, voice steady. “get used to the way i feel in your hand.”

you swallow, fingers wrapping around the base of his cock. he’s warm and heavy. hard enough to make your pulse spike just from the weight of him in your palm. you glance up. “like this?” you ask.

he nods once, but doesn’t say anything. just watches. the corner of his mouth lifts a little. proud, curious and patient. you start to stroke, slow and careful, your thumb brushing over the head like you’ve done this before—you did, but it’s different with him. he makes it feel deliberate, like every movement matters.

“good,” he murmurs. “tighter. don’t be scared.”

you adjust, hand squeezing a little more, sliding down and back up in a steady rhythm. you’re learning how he twitches, how his breath catches, how his thighs tense a little under your arms when you get the pressure right. he lets out a quiet groan.

“yeah. just like that,” he says, hand sliding to cradle the side of your face. his thumb traces your cheekbone. “you’re so fucking good at this, fuck—” you blush, ridiculous considering the situation, and he smirks. “you like hearing that?” he asks.

you nod. “yeah.”

he hums, thumb brushing your lips again. “then earn more of it.”

your hand speeds up slightly, bolder now. you’re watching him just as much as he’s watching you, studying every reaction. every flicker in his eyes, every tiny breath that tells you yes, this.

“spit on it,” he says suddenly, and your stomach flips. you glance up again. he looks right back, unblinking. “go ahead. don’t be shy.” you lean in, let spit fall from your lips, and he groans when it lands just right, messy and perfect. “fuck, that’s it,” he mutters, hips jerking slightly. “that mouth’s gonna ruin me.”

you stroke him again with your now-wet hand, and his jaw clenches. he leans forward, hand sliding back into your hair, this time with more grip.

“open your mouth,” he says. you do, lips parting obediently. he taps the tip of his cock against your tongue, slow, dragging it over your bottom lip, and you hold still, waiting, not rushing. letting him guide you. “don’t take me yet,” he says. “just taste.”

you lick him, slow and soft, and his eyes flutter half-closed. “again,” he says. his voice is lower now, strained. you lean forward more, lips wrapping around just the tip, sucking gently. “fuck,” he breathes, thumb brushing your cheek. “you keep looking at me like that and i’m gonna lose it.”

you moan softly around him, just enough to make him shudder. his hand tightens in your hair. “you want to keep going?” he asks. you nod, mouth still full, eyes wide. he groans again. “then you’re gonna take what i give you.”

and you do. you let him guide the rhythm, slow thrusts, shallow, letting you get used to the weight, the stretch. his grip is steady, voice low as he talks you through every inch. “you’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “look so fucking pretty on your knees like this. taking it like a good girl.”

you press your thighs together, pulse pounding in your ears. your whole body’s on fire, but you don’t stop. you keep your eyes on his. you let him control the pace. you listen. because nothing’s ever felt quite like this. he’s barely holding himself back now, his hips rolling deeper into your mouth, hand fisted in your hair, jaw clenched tight. your throat’s sore, your lips stretched, spit dripping from your chin, but you don’t stop. you don’t want to stop.

“fuck, that’s it,” he growls, voice sharp. “you like this, don’t you? like being used like this.”

you hum around him, and his whole body jolts. his other hand grips the edge of the bed like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. he’s panting now, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours as your head bobs with the rhythm he’s set.

“look at you,” he hisses. “so fucking obedient now. you’ll take anything i give you, won’t you?”

you nod, gagging just a little as he pushes deeper. his thumb brushes your cheek again, almost tender, but not soft. “shit, baby,” he groans. “just like that. don’t stop. don’t you fucking stop.” his breathing gets rougher. his thighs tense. his grip tightens. “you’re gonna take every fucking drop,” he says, voice low and wild. “don’t even think about pulling back.”

and when he comes, it’s with a broken, wrecked moan, his head falling back, his whole body shuddering. he holds you there, deep in your throat, as his cock pulses between your lips. you stay still. obedient. take every drop, exactly how he told you to. he pulls out slow, panting hard, watching you swallow every bit like it’s a reward.

“fuck,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “you’re dangerous.”

your legs are shaking, your body’s buzzing and your throat hurts. but your eyes are still on him. and he smiles.

he leans forward, grabs your arms, and pulls you off the floor like you weigh nothing. places you back in his lap, one hand still wrapped in your hair, the other gripping your thigh. his voice is calmer now, but darker.

“so?” he asks, breath still a little ragged. “you like praise better?”

you blink. “what?”

“you like when i call you a good girl?” he says, fingers brushing your jaw. “tell you how pretty you look on your knees?”

you nod, a little dazed. “yeah…”

his hand tightens suddenly on your thigh. “or do you like it more when i talk to you like a fucking toy?” your breath catches. his eyes narrow. “like when i say you’re only good for your mouth? that you were made to take cock and nothing else?” you gasp. your body tenses, and he sees the reaction instantly. his smirk spreads slow. “that’s what i thought,” he says.

your voice is barely a whisper. “i like both.”

he raises a brow. “yeah?”

you meet his gaze. “you can do whatever you want.”

his eyes darken completely. something in him shifts. he leans in close, voice like a promise against your skin. “you don’t know what you just agreed to.”

he hasn’t let go of you. your legs are thrown across his lap now, arms limp around his shoulders, your chest pressed to his. and still he’s got one hand curled around your jaw like he’s not done claiming it. he tilts your face up and studies you. not like you’re fragile, but like you’re fascinating.

he chuckles, meanly. “you look wrecked, baby. wrecked and all fucking mine.” his fingers trail down your neck, slow and soft. “you like when i say that?” he murmurs. “that you’re mine?”

you nod, small. “yeah.”

he kisses the edge of your jaw. “you like being good?”

“yes.”

he smirks against your skin. “but you also like when i treat you like a dumb little toy.” your whole body tenses. he chuckles again. “you fucking melt when i talk like that, huh?” he says. “wanna be praised and spat on in the same breath.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you. your face flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide and glassy. “fuck, you’re pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself,” he says, almost admiring. “bet you don’t even know who you are when i touch you like this.”

his hand slides down your stomach—over the curve of your hip—back between your thighs, over your ruined underwear. you gasp and twitch. he grins. “yeah. that’s what i thought.” he presses just a little harder, fingers rubbing through the fabric. “still this wet for me? even after everything?”

you nod, biting your lip. he tsks, shaking his head. “you don’t learn, do you?”

you swallow, trembling. “i wanna be good.”

he chuckles. “you are. but you’re also a little desperate. greedy. filthy.” his fingers tug your panties to the side and slide against you again, slow, controlled, so light it makes you ache. “should i finger you again like this?” he says. “while you sit in my lap like a good girl? or should i bend you over and fuck the brat out of you?”

your breath catches in your throat. “or maybe i shouldn’t touch you at all,” he adds, tilting his head. “maybe you don’t get to come unless you beg.”

“soobin—”

he grabs your chin again, eyes sharp. “say it.”

you’re panting now. hot and flustered and completely under him. “please,” you whisper. he waits. “please touch me,” you say again, voice cracking. “please make me come.”

his smirk is slow. cruel. gorgeous. “that’s more like it.”he slides two fingers back inside you without warning, and your whole body jolts. “you’re gonna take everything i give you,” he murmurs. “and you’re gonna say thank you when you come.” your legs shake. your grip on his shirt tightens. “say it.”

“thank you,” you breathe.

he kisses you—filthy, fast—and then breaks away, breath hot against your mouth. “don’t come yet.”

he’s not moving fast. he’s not giving you what you want, not really. and that’s the point. he’s watching you, studying you, like he’s waiting for something specific. a crack. a shift. the moment where your body stops trying to lead and just listens. he leans back slightly, his fingers inside you don’t speed up, and they don’t slow down either. just deep enough to tease, never enough to let you lose yourself. he’s giving you nothing and everything at once.

he watches your face closely, eyes scanning your mouth, your eyebrows, the way your breath catches. you’re close, he knows it. he can feel the way your body tightens around him, the way your thighs shake just barely. you’re trying to hold back. trying not to move too much. it’s cute, in a way. respectful, obedient even. but he doesn’t want nice right now.

“you’re doing it again,” he says, voice low, calm.

your eyes flutter open, confused. “what?”

“holding it in,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your waist. “trying to be good in the wrong way.”

you blink, breath trembling. “i thought you wanted—”

he cuts you off with a quiet laugh, not mocking, just amused. “i want you to be good, yeah. but not quiet. not frozen. not careful.” his fingers slide deeper and you gasp, hips twitching. “good doesn’t mean silent.” he leans in, mouth near your ear. “if i wanted a doll, i’d buy one.”

your breath stutters. your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in just slightly, and that makes him smile. “there you go,” he murmurs. “there’s my girl.” he moves his fingers again, just a little faster now, just enough to make your whole body jerk. you bite your lip hard, trying not to cry out. “still fighting it?” he says. “you think i don’t notice how tight you’re clenching around my hand? you think i don’t feel how close you are?”

you shake your head, desperate. he pulls back slightly to look at you. “look at me.” you do, barely. your vision’s blurry, and your mouth’s open, and you’re so close it almost hurts. “you wanna come?” he asks, calm. direct.

“yes,” you breathe.

“you sure?” you nod. his voice drops lower. “you ready to say thank you when you do?”

you nod again, more frantically. he keeps his eyes on yours as his thumb finally finds your clit, rubbing slow circles while his fingers thrust deeper. your whole body reacts at once, tensing, jerking, then unraveling. 

“come for me,” he says, and you do.

it hits hard, sharp and blinding. your legs tremble. your fingers dig into his arms. your mouth opens but nothing comes out except broken gasps and a soft, choked sob. and through all of it, his hand doesn’t leave you. he works you through it, slow, steady, like he’s memorizing every second.

your body slumps against his chest. he holds you there for a moment, his hand still resting between your legs but not moving anymore. you’re breathing hard, face pressed into his shoulder. then his mouth finds your ear again. “thank me.”

you whisper it without thinking. “thank you.”

he exhales, satisfied. his fingers slip out of you, slow and careful. he brings them to his mouth, licking them clean without breaking eye contact. you watch, dazed, and he grins. “good girl.”

he lifts you gently, shifts you until you’re straddling him again, your knees on either side of his hips, your body still shaky. his hands hold your waist firmly, steadying you like he knows you can’t do it on your own yet.

he tilts your chin up, and there’s something new in his eyes now—still dark, still dominant, but softer around the edges. like he’s trying to decide something. “you were made for this,” he says, quiet. “you know that, right?”

you swallow hard. “yeah.”

his thumb brushes your cheek, and then he leans back, legs spread, hands resting on his thighs like he’s just relaxing, like he’s not watching every single twitch in your body. you’re still on his lap, still catching your breath when he says, low and steady, “get on.”

you look at him, confused, dazed. “what?”

he grabs your hips, drags you forward slightly, then leans in just enough for you to feel his breath on your jaw. “you like being on top, right?” he says, voice calm but full of something sharper underneath. “so ride me.”

your heart stutters. your thighs are still shaking. he knows.

“go ahead,” he says. “show me how good you are.”

you shift back slowly, thighs trembling, one hand steadying yourself on his chest while the other wraps around his cock. he’s already hard again—how is he already this hard?—and thick in your palm, warm and heavy. you hold him there, just under the tip, as you line yourself up, and for a second, you hesitate.

you bite your lip. your body’s still sensitive, your legs sore, your mind fogged, and there’s a pressure building low in your stomach that has nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with the way your heart starts to race. it’s been a long time since you let a guy inside you. since you even wanted to. and even now, it feels foreign. like your body’s remembering something it forgot on purpose.

but you want this. you want him. so you press down slowly, barely taking the tip, and your breath catches in your throat. he doesn’t say anything, just watches. his hands resting on your hips, not moving, not pushing. but he’s tense and alert. like he knows you’re struggling and he’s waiting to see how far you’ll go on your own.

you lower yourself more, inch by inch, and the stretch makes your eyes flutter shut. it burns. not unbearable, but tight, too tight. your thighs start to tremble harder, and your fingers dig into his shoulders for balance. his grip on your hips tightens.

“breathe,” he says, calm. “take your time.”

you nod, shaky, and try to relax. you ease down another inch, and your whole body reacts—hips twitching, core clenching, thighs starting to cramp. it’s too much all at once, and not enough at the same time.

he exhales slow, voice lower now. “you’re doing good. keep going.”

you swallow hard. “fuck, i—”

he cuts you off gently, one hand lifting to brush your hair from your face. “don’t stop now. you wanted to ride my cock, right? prove you can take it.”

you whimper, breath catching again, and finally sink lower, slowly taking more of him. your legs feel weak. your cunt clenches tight around him, and the stretch still burns, but underneath it, there’s something else. a pulse. a heat that starts to take over the discomfort.

he groans quietly, his jaw tense. “shit. you’re so tight.” you press your forehead to his collarbone, trying to stay steady. “don’t hide,” he says. “let me see you.” you lift your head, barely, and his eyes lock on yours. “good girl,” he mutters. “you’re almost there. just a little more.”

you shift again, forcing your hips down further, until you’re fully seated in his lap. he groans, deep and low, his fingers pressing harder into your skin. “fuck. there you go.”

you’re breathing hard, thighs trembling, everything inside you stretched to its limit. “hurts?” he asks. you shake your head. he smiles, not sweet. “good.” you glare at him, but there’s no strength behind it. “you’ll get used to it,” he says, voice low. you sink down slow, body trembling, and his grip tightens on your hips. “that’s it,” he mutters. “fuck—look at you.”

you start to move, unsure at first. he lets you find your rhythm, lets you work for it, but his hands don’t leave you. he keeps you steady, fingers digging into your waist. his eyes never leave your face.

“you like being in charge?” he says, breath rougher now. “then don’t fucking slow down.” you moan softly, trying to keep the pace, but your legs are tired, your body already wrecked. your movements falter, and he notices immediately. “what’s wrong?” he says, lips curling. “getting tired already? thought you liked being on top.”

you try to keep going, bouncing slow, your hands braced on his chest.

“keep your eyes on me,” he says. you do, barely, and he grins when he sees the look in your face. “you’re falling apart,” he murmurs. “and you’ve barely done anything.” 

he doesn’t slow down. he grabs your chin again, makes you look at him. “ride me like you mean it,” he snaps, thrusting up into you suddenly, making your whole body jolt.

“fuck, soobin—”

“no. don’t whine. you wanted this. show me.” you try. you move your hips, faster this time, trying to match him. he watches you closely, hands on your ass now, guiding your movement, controlling the depth. “that’s better,” he says. “now you’re working for it.”

you gasp, leaning forward, forehead on his shoulder. he grabs your hair and pulls your head back up. “no hiding. i wanna see you struggle.” your thighs are shaking so hard it’s hard to keep the rhythm. your breathing’s uneven, your nails digging into his arms. “you can take it,” he says, voice lower now, almost gentle. “i know you can. you’re my good girl, remember?”

you moan again, louder, and he smiles. “there she is,” he murmurs. “knew you’d come back to me.” your hips stutter again, and he slaps your ass once, not hard, just firm enough to make you move. “don’t stop until i say,” he says. “and if you come first, you’re doing it with my name in your mouth.”

your fingers grip his shoulders harder, your thighs are burning now, trembling with effort, but you force yourself to keep going. up, down, again. you’re trying to stay focused, but the stretch of him inside you, the heat building low in your stomach, the pressure of his hands guiding you—it’s all too much, and not enough at once.

he watches you the whole time, eyes fixed on your face. you can’t hide anything from him like this. not the way your brows pinch together, not the way your mouth keeps falling open with each bounce, not the quiet, broken sounds that slip out no matter how hard you try to hold them in. 

“you wanted this,” he reminds you, calm. you nod, desperate, hips moving faster now, sloppy and uneven but still trying. he lets you ride him, lets you feel like you’re in control, just for a second, until he shifts beneath you and fucks up into you hard, once, and your whole body folds forward with a gasp. “thought so,” he mutters.

your forehead falls against his collarbone, and he pulls your hair, tilting your face up again. “no hiding.” his mouth brushes yours, not quite a kiss. “you look like you’re gonna cry.”

“i’m not,” you breathe, though your voice is shaking.

“you will if i tell you not to come yet,” he says, like it’s just a thought. you whimper. his hand moves from your hip to your throat, loose but solid, just enough to hold you still. “you like this?” he asks. “being used like this?” you nod quickly, eyes fluttering shut. “don’t lie.”

“i’m not.”

he leans in, lips by your ear again. “you gonna come for me?”

“yes.”

“say my name.” you pause, too close to think. “say it.”

“soobin…”

he groans, deep and low, and that’s all it takes for his rhythm to break. he grabs your waist hard and starts fucking up into you, fast now, with purpose, like he’s chasing the end and dragging you there with him. “come on,” he mutters. “come for me. make it count.”

you do. your whole body shudders, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent moan. everything inside you pulls tight and snaps all at once, and you collapse against him, shaking. he holds you through it, breath heavy against your ear, his arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’s trying to keep you from slipping through his fingers.

then he moves. he lifts you off him slowly, carefully, lays you down on the bed like you weigh nothing. you’re still catching your breath, blinking at the ceiling, when you feel the mattress dip again and his weight settles beside you. his fingers slide down your stomach, soft now, slow. “you like praise,” he says, almost casual. “but i think you like it more when i’m mean.”

you glance at him, lips parted. he leans in close. “so tell me, baby,” he murmurs. “you want me to ruin you with my mouth or just make you cry again first?”

“i can’t,” you breathe, voice shaky. “i can’t take it anymore.”

he tilts his head, like he’s not sure he heard you right. his hands are already back on your thighs, spreading them open again, his body moving lower, slower, like this is nothing for him. like he’s just getting started. “can’t?” he repeats, tone light, mocking. “you sure, baby?”

you swallow hard, legs twitching under his grip. he presses his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing slow, warm, soft, too soft. like he’s pretending to be sweet again. and it only makes the tension worse. “you looked so fucking confident riding my cock,” he murmurs, right against your skin. “and now you’re what? tapped out?” you shake your head weakly, but he keeps going, lips trailing higher, breath hotter. “you want me to stop?” he asks, voice low.

“no.”

“then don’t say can’t,” he says, and bites down on the inside of your thigh, sharp enough to make your hips jerk. “say please.” your breath catches. “say it.”

“please,” you whisper, barely audible.

he smiles against your skin. “thought so.”

he kisses higher, right between your legs now, and you gasp when his mouth finally finds you again, tongue slow, deliberate, dragging over your sensitive skin with zero mercy. you’re already overstimulated, every nerve lit up and shaking, but he doesn’t stop. he knows you’re right there again, and that’s exactly what he wants.

“you’ve teased me for weeks,” he says, voice muffled against you. “walking around in those tiny fucking shorts. sitting on my lap like it’s nothing. saying shit like ‘you’re my favorite boy’ with that little smirk on your face.” you whine, twisting under him, but he holds your hips down with one arm and licks a slow circle around your clit without touching it directly. “you think i didn’t notice? think i didn’t see you bite your lip every time i looked at you too long?”

you’re panting now, legs trembling again. “and now you wanna act all shy?” he scoffs. “now you can’t take it?” his mouth finally closes around your clit, sucking slow and deep, and your hips buck hard, but he doesn’t stop. “you can take more,” he mutters. your fingers find his hair, tugging, trying to anchor yourself to something while your body starts to come undone all over again. “i’ll be gentle,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you, mouth wet, eyes dark. “but only if you fucking ask.”

you stare down at him, dazed, lips parted. “go on,” he says. “ask for it.”

“please,” you gasp, voice breaking. “please, soobin—be gentle.”

he grins against your skin, slow and cruel. not because he wants to be mean. because he can. because you gave him permission. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmurs, lips brushing your thigh. “knew you could ask nicely.”

then he moves again, mouth right where you need him, tongue flat and slow against your clit this time, no teasing now. just heat, rhythm, and pressure. your hands grab at his hair, your back arching off the bed, and he doesn’t stop. doesn’t even pause. “fuck, you’re so wet like this,” he says, voice low, fingers gripping your thighs to keep you wide open. you moan, louder now, hips trying to move against his face, chasing the rhythm. “good girl,” he mutters. “you want to come for me like this?”

“yes—yes, please—”

“then keep your legs open.”

you do. you try. your whole body’s tight, burning, desperate. he knows exactly how to keep you right there, his tongue curling just right, lips pressing just enough, his hand slipping lower, fingers teasing your entrance without going in. “you close?” he asks, voice rough and muffed now. 

you nod frantically. “so close—please don’t stop—”

he groans into you, and the vibration alone almost pushes you over the edge. his fingers finally slip inside, two of them, smooth and deep, curling just right, and that’s it. you fall apart.

your whole body spasms, legs trembling violently, a loud moan breaking from your throat as you come hard, everything clenching tight around his fingers. your vision goes white for a second, and you barely register the way he keeps going, slow now, helping you ride it out, dragging every last wave out of you until you collapse into the sheets, twitching and breathless.

he finally pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawling up over you, eyes dark and satisfied. “you’re so fucking hot like this,” he says, voice low. “all soft. all mine.” you can’t even speak yet. your chest rises and falls, skin flushed, lips parted. he leans down. “now,” he says, tone shifting—less gentle, more commanding again. “turn over.”

you don’t speak. you just move. your body shifts slowly, limbs still weak, and you roll onto your stomach like he asked, like he told you to. your face sinks into the pillow, and you feel his eyes on your back. you know what he sees: the curve of your spine, the way your legs part instinctively, the way you arch your back so he sees your ass available for him to take it. you hear him exhale, sharp through his nose. a pause, then the bed dips as he moves behind you, knees spreading yours a little more, hands running down your back with purpose, not care. he doesn’t soothe. he positions.

soobin stays still at first, taking his time. watching how you lay there for him, waiting. looking how your shoulders tense like you don’t know what’s coming next, but you want to. he likes that. he likes that a lot.

his hands drag down your back, not to comfort, but to arrange. he touches you like he’s correcting something. a tool out of place. a painting hung crooked. “lower,” he says. you sink deeper into the mattress. his palm lands between your shoulder blades, keeping you there. “stay.”

then nothing. just the weight of his hand. the silence. he takes a deep breath. “you have any idea how long i’ve waited for this?”

you don’t answer. he leans down, lips barely brushing your ear. “how many times i pictured you just like this?” his voice is calm, almost bored. “on all fours for me,” he mutters. “but you talk too much. always making jokes. always pretending like you’re not dying for me to shut you up.” his fingers slide down your side, pausing at your hip. “you don’t get to pretend now.” his grip tightens. “so stop fidgeting.” he forces your hips up, adjusts the angle himself like your body’s just another thing to be handled. “just like that,” he says. “good girl.”

he doesn’t rush. doesn’t say more than he needs to. because he knows you’re listening to every breath, every word, every shift in tone. and when his cock teases your cunt and he watches the way your body twitches. the way you don’t stop him. “still so sensitive,” he mutters. “but you’ll take it.” he presses slow, watching you squirm, watching you try to be still. “don’t you dare move.” you breathe out hard. he can hear it. feel it. “that’s what i thought.”

he pushes deeper. drags it out. makes sure you feel every second of it. then he leans back, sitting tall behind you, hands steady on your waist. this isn’t about what you want. not anymore. so he aligns his cock with your drooling entrance again, and smacks his hand in your ass, and you whimper, a whiny whimper. he chuckles, low and provocative. “you’re not gonna come until i say,” he says. “and if you do, i’ll edge you ‘til you cry.”

you whimper into the pillow. “but if you listen?” he continues. “i’ll let you come so hard you forget your own name.” he rolls his hips forward, just once, just enough to make you scream. his cock makes you feel so full already, especially in that position. your legs shake. “choice is yours. not mine,” he adds. “yours.”

he pauses again. then pulls back, only to snap his hips forward harder this time, controlled and deep. again. again. his pace isn’t rushed. it’s mean. efficient. every thrust timed with precision. he watches your hands claw at the sheets. hears the sounds you’re trying to hold back, and it makes him smile. “you were so sure you didn’t like boys,” he mutters. “but look at you now.” another thrust, harder. “fucked out like a bitch.”

his hand slides to your throat from behind again, just resting there. “you’re mine tonight,” he says. “say it.” 

“i’m yours,” you whisper.

he grins. “louder.”

“i’m yours, soobin! please!” you choke out.

his grip tightens, choking slightly, just containing you, grounding you to the moment. then he leans in, breath hot against your ear. “yes, yes,” he says. “you are fucking mine.”

if anything, now that you’ve said it—i’m yours—he settles deeper into it, into you. into the full weight of what it means to have you like this: pliant, spread out, quiet except for the sounds you can’t hold back. it’s not just about the physical now. it’s the power. the permission. and he’s going to stretch it as far as it can go.

his hands stay locked on your hips, thumbs pressing into the dip of your waist as he fucks into you slow and heavy, no urgency in his pace, just control. all of it his. he watches your shoulders tighten with each movement, the way your back arches when it’s too much, the way your face twists into the sheets to muffle sounds you don’t want him to hear. he hears them anyway. he loves them.

your hand reaches for the pillow, gripping tight, but you don’t fight him. you don’t even ask him to slow down. he leans over you again, pressing down on your back with one hand to keep you steady, his chest brushing your spine. his breath fans hot against your shoulder as his hips drive into yours again, firmer now, drawing a helpless cry from your throat.

“you gonna keep taking it like this?” he asks, not because he needs permission, but because he wants to hear the sound of you begging again. “or you gonna fall apart like a little brat who talked too much?” your fingers dig into the mattress. “go ahead,” he mutters, almost laughing. “prove me wrong.”

you let out a shaky breath, half a moan, half something broken. he sits back up, dragging you with him by your hips, making you meet each thrust head-on. he doesn’t slow. he doesn’t give. he stays steady and mean, dragging it out just enough to feel cruel. “you wanted to be in charge, right?” he says. “whatever you tell your little girlfriends.”

he leans in again, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back just slightly. “but you came crawling to me. let me put you on your knees. let me fuck you like this.” he pauses, breath heavy. “so which one is it, baby?” he murmurs. “you like being in charge? or you like being ruined?”

you try to answer, but all that comes out is a moan. his grip in your hair tightens just a little. “nah. use your words.”

you manage to whisper, barely audible: “i like it—like this.”

he smirks. “i know you do.”

he lets go of your hair, both hands dropping back to your waist as his movements grow rougher, rhythm sharper now, like he’s chasing something but refusing to let either of you reach it until he decides. you feel your body tighten again, another orgasm building fast, threatening to take over, but you remember what he said earlier. not until he says.

you try to hold it. try to breathe through it. but your legs are trembling, hands fisted in the sheets, and he’s relentless now. he notices. he always notices. “you close again?” he asks. “tsk tsk… already?”

you nod desperately. he chuckles under his breath, dark and satisfied. “don’t come yet.” you whine, legs shaking harder. “nope. not yet,” he says again, slower this time. “you want it? then beg.”

you gasp. “please, soobin—i—i need it—”

“yeah?” he says, still moving, still holding you right on that edge. “wanna cream my cock again?”

“yes—please—”

“beg harder, angel.”

“please—please, i need it, i need you—”

he groans deep in his throat, and finally, finally, his hands shift, his pace changes, more erratic now, more brutal, like he’s losing his own control right along with you. “come for me,” he growls. “right fucking now.”

and you do, loud and raw and completely undone. your whole body tightens and shakes beneath him, and he doesn’t stop. doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. he fucks you through it, eyes locked on the way you break for him. his name’s the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

he follows seconds later, a sharp curse escaping him as he buries in your cunt deep and stills, hands gripping so tight they’ll leave marks on your hips. he breathes through it, shaky and harsh, chest heaving, body pressed to yours like he needs the contact just as much as he needs the release.

the room is silent for a beat. just the sound of two people wrecked and catching up to themselves. finally, he leans down again, presses a kiss to your shoulder, and murmurs against your skin—

“you really don’t hate boys, do you?”

you let out a laugh, a real one. exhausted and a little horrified. “don’t start.”

“no, i’m serious,” he grins, turning his head toward you, as you switch your body, turning around to face him. “i feel like i just contributed something meaningful to your sexual awakening.”

“that’s… such a weird sentence to say out loud.”

“yeah, well. you’re the one who was like, ‘i’m not into guys’ and then came on my cock like, what? four times or something?”

you groan and cover your face with your hands. “i hate you.”

“you’re literally still shaking.”

“shut up.”

he doesn’t. of course he doesn’t. instead, he sits on the edge of the bed right next to you, and his fingers start tracing light, absent-minded patterns along your spine, featherlight, soothing, almost tender. it’s stupid, really, how soft he is now, after everything. after the way he touched you, took you, like he had no intention of being gentle.

and yet here he is, brushing his fingertips over your back like you might break. and you hate how much you like it. how easily it melts something inside you. because it’s not just the touch — it’s him. the contradiction of him. soobin, with his filthy mouth and his gentle hands.

“listen,” he says, voice dropping into a mock-serious tone, he stretches his arms behind his head, still catching his breath like nothing monumental just happened. and then, in that same too-casual voice, he says, “if you ever feel like exploring your… curiosity more, you know, about your preferences or whatever…” you glance over at him, one eyebrow raised. his expression doesn’t change, except for the little shrug he gives, half amused, half dead serious. “i’m available for educational purposes.”

you exhale, slow and disbelieving. “you’re such an asshole.”

“maybe.” he turns his head toward you, gaze dragging over your bare shoulders, his mouth twitching. “but look where it got me.”

you shake your head, but you don’t move away. you don’t slap his arm or tell him to shut up again. instead, you let your knee knock against his, your breath finally starting to feel like your own again. the air shifts between you, not heavy or awkward like you thought it might be. just… different. charged, maybe. softer around the edges. there’s a quiet comfort in it now that you hadn’t expected.

minutes pass, the movie already ended, the blood-streaked screen frozen in place. then your voice breaks through, low and almost thoughtful. “do you think they survived?”

soobin blinks. “who?”

“the girls,” you say, nodding toward the laptop. slumber party massacre, paused on a cheap shot of cleavage and red corn syrup. “from the movie.”

he tilts his head, gives it a second of actual thought. “nah. they’re all dead. definitely.”

you hum in agreement, a small smile playing at your lips. “yeah. figured.”

there’s another beat of silence, and then he says, “but you would’ve made it.” you look at him, unsure what he means. he keeps going. “you’ve got final girl energy. like… the type who doesn’t run upstairs. the type who waits. watches. stabs the killer with his own weapon.”

you laugh under your breath. “i feel like that’s a lot to project onto me.”

he shrugs. “or maybe you’d flirt with the murderer and confuse the shit out of him until he gave up.”

you grin. “there it is.”

he smirks. “i’d be the dumb hot one who dies first.”

“you are the dumb hot one.”

“thank you for seeing me.”

it shouldn’t feel like relief, this moment. but it does. like something that could’ve broken just… didn’t. like maybe it bent a little, stretched out of shape, but held. and somehow, you’re both still here—naked, slightly dazed, watching a bad slasher movie with blood on the screen and probably some still on your thighs.

you peek at him again. he’s looking at you like he never stopped. “you okay?” he asks, voice quieter now.

you nod. “yeah. i’m good.”

his hand finds your knee again, thumb brushing idly across the bone. it’s casual. but it’s not. you let your head fall onto his shoulder, stare at the screen without really seeing it. plastic knife. overexposed skin. predictable death.

and next to you, soobin. the same soobin who still uses three-in-one shampoo and forgets to charge his phone. the same boy who always lets you pick the movie. who saves you the middle seat on the couch. who carries your bag when you complain and never says anything about it. the same boy you trusted enough to call when your heart was broken. the same one you teased too much and touched too often and didn’t admit you wanted until now.

maybe you were never that into guys. but soobin never felt like just a guy. he felt like a constant, a question mark that stayed open too long. and now, with his hand on your leg and that dumb horror movie frozen in front of you, it finally clicks:

maybe you were never into boys. but you were always, always into him.

author’s note: this might be one of the longest pwp fics i’ve ever written and ngl i was so hesitant to post it. the themes felt a little too specific, a little too personal, and i kept going back and forth like “do i really wanna put this out there??” but then i re-listened to 1980s horror film by wallows and my brain just went: okay but what if this was about beomgyu. or soobin. and suddenly i had 15k words of confused bisexual tension, dry humping, and one very persistent movie night. anyway. if you made it this far, thanks for reading!! and for letting me indulge in a character dynamic that’s messy and horny and kinda tender in all the wrong ways 🖤

[gyuzies]

𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 '𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗎𝗌

[ 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘰𝘮𝘨𝘺𝘶 ]

choi beomgyu x fem!reader

» bestfriends brother!gyu, meandom!gyu, sub!reader slight e2l [16.1k]

this was made for my perfect gorgeous loml serene @beomiracles <3 (sorry it took 2 months)

Sleeping with Beomgyu the first time? A mistake fuelled by rage and tequila. The second time? Annoyance and desperation — you stopped counting after the fourth. When your best friend finds his stupid hoodie in your bedroom you end it — not that he lets you anyways.

⤷ contains — ˎˊ˗ smut (three separate scenes), unprotected sex, angst, fluff, avoidant reader, they are both stupid, lots of kissing, marking, hair pulling, objectification, degrading, praise, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem rec), face sitting, pet names (angel, sweetheart, slut, baby etc), implied bi!reader. probably alot more

thank you to my beautiful friends who sprinted w me for these writing sessions ilysm

scan here for group masterlist → 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 ˎˊ˗

You've always hated Beomgyu.

For many logical reasons.

He was arrogant, annoying and he always somehow knew every single button to push to piss you off.

Okay logical to you.

Objectively you knew he wasn't a bad person — despite you wishing he was so your dislike towards him would be valid to others.

You like to think of yourself as a rational person, you don't overreact to things, you're calm and collected.

There is just something about him that irks you.

Maybe it's the fact he's always around, like a fly buzzing around you slowly bringing you to the brink of insanity.

Unfortunately for you he was also inescapable.

Somehow despite being the most annoying, egotistical, competitive, immature person you know — his sister is the opposite.

Haeun — who you met on the first day of elementary school, after a random kid was pulled out of class for being disruptive the whole class was left unattended — chaos ensuing because what else happens when you leave twenty something kids with no supervision. Unlike the other kids who started shouting and being annoying.

Your focus was drawn to her — Staying silent in her seat, drawing.

Confused you walk over to her simply observing her — immediately forgetting why you went over there when you see her drawing something from your favourite show.

And the rest is history —

If only it was that easy though.

Because additionally — meeting your best friend, twin flame and person, came with the added bonus of someone who you truly believe was put on this earth to humble you.

The kid who got in trouble for being a pest? — Beomgyu, who always brings up the fact he caused you and Haeun to be friends and that you're basically indebted to him.

And because Haeun and Beomgyu were twins — he was constantly around.

Unfortunately.

Growing up he was there — always, every achievement he was right next to you and Haeun — because somehow your parents thought you three were inseparable, despite your multiple complains ending in your parents laughing at 'kids being kids.'

As you got older it only got worse.

Merging into your teenage years you thought he'd become less of a pest, focusing on himself more than pissing you off.

Wrong.

Beomgyu was smart — in a way where he didn't have to try too hard. Just naturally knowing the answers after barely paying attention in class.

Another reason you hated him.

While you work your ass off, studying for hours to get the best mark possible — he just knows.

When you offhandedly mentioned wanting to enter the science fair to Haeun, Beomgyu who has no interest in science joins purely to win instead of you.

And when you accidentally told him the wrong day of the math exam? Well you watched with the proudest grin when you were put first on the honours list instead of him.

You never knew what he was thinking about, whenever you retaliated and awaited his reaction he just smiled.

You were sure his sole existence is to drive you insane, and he does.

In all honesty you don't remember why you started disliking him, you just have — even before you got to know him you knew he was loud and bothersome.

The only reason you haven't strangled him is because of Haeun.

Because somehow.

Somehow.

He's amazing to Haeun.

It's like a shift — he'll be annoying you teasing you, then he's all nice to Haeun.

All things aside you can begrudgingly admit he's a good brother, watching out for her, always wanting the best for her.

They never had the phase of hating or bullying each other, he's always looked after her. Haeun told you multiple stories of him being amazing and nice.

You honestly admire him for being a good brother (unwillingly you admit it only in your subconscious mind).

It honestly pissed you off and made you dislike him more.

Because he's capable of it — you've seen him be amazing to Haeun, his friends — hell even people you know he hates, and to your knowledge you haven't done anything to him so why.

Is it just you he likes to endlessly pester and piss off.

The 'feud' if you can call it that was honestly harmless to both of you, no real damage done — just endlessly annoying each other.

Until it wasn't.

You'll admit now, you know what he did was an accident, or so everyone tells you.

You didn't even know what had happened, people in your class staring at you for seemingly no reason — until at lunch you get pulled aside by Taehyun.

Taehyun who you had a massive thing for.

You honestly didn't hear most of it — blood rushing to your cheeks, ears ringing in embarrassment. All you knew is that somehow he knew that you liked him. Now he was very nice letting you down but still.

The only time you ever admitted out loud that you liked him was at a sleepover — putting the pieces together that Beomgyu overheard.

After that it grew petty, purposefully doing shit you both knew would end badly.

It wasn't cruel or too far, you both seemingly knew where to draw the line.

It still wasn't nice.

Jokes that had edges to them you knew would affect the other. Petty things you both got in trouble for.

Whether it was him sabotaging your academics or you sabotaging whatever relationship he was in.

In university nothing changed.

Once after he told a rumour to the whole campus about you sleeping with a teacher for better grades, resulting in you having to drop your favourite class.

So when you got wind of Beomgyu being head over heels for this girl? The next week you're hard launching her on your stories to his favourite song.

Two weeks later he sends you a fucking 'hey girly' message which did make you chuckle but still! — pissed you off.

Okay maybe it started getting mean.

The only thing stopping you both from taking it too far is Haeun, forced to tolerate each other for her sake at least.

You truly think Beomgyu was put on this world punish you for past sins in previous lifetimes, to be a perpetual dull needle stabbing into your eyes and test your self control as to not end up in a jail cell.

Because if it was anyone else? You'd just ignore him, Unfortunately he's not anyone else.

He's the brother of your favourite person in the world, the one person whos seemingly able to calm both of your indifferences.

Haeun always said that you fight because you're alike, always getting a death glare from both of you.

Deep down you think shes right.

You don't think about it too deeply, you'd rather not get too psychological on the undeniable similarities between you and him, the thought of being like him honestly making you pissed off and offended at your own unconscious mind for suggesting you're like that fuckhead.

You've had a love hate relationship with parties, they're loud and usually held in a filthy frat house of someone you don't even know.

Always feeling like an extra in some sorority girls main character arc as you watch guys fighting like idiots, girls gossiping over who slept with who.

You loved however letting go of every ounce of sensibility with the excuse of alcohol, being able to blame mistakes and idiotic choices on the copious amounts of shots of the cheapest and highest percentage alcohol college students could legally find.

What you didn't like about that was how out of body you felt, the downside of all of that being the fact every choice you do make doesn't feel like your own, the inner monologue becoming your course of action whether you like it or not, your common sense on the sidelines shouting endlessly into the void.

Because unlike every other time, this one was at Beomgyu's place.

Haeun dragging you to the party, telling you the place was big enough to not run into him, and fortunately that was half true.

The place was huge, thanks to Beomgyu rooming with one of his rich friends whos parents pay the rent.

Unfortunately Haeun underestimates how much the universe hates you.

For the first hour or so it's fine, drinking playing party games with your friends, flirting shamelessly with random guys.

You don't notice Haeun left till you check your phone, seeing her tell you she had to go back to your apartment because her boyfriend was sick. You didn't really mind, if you were slightly more sober you would have been pissed she left you here of all places.

After an unfortunate run in with your ex, desperately trying to get away from him you try find any free room — bathroom? You don't wanna talk about who and what you heard in there.

Ending up in a room collapsing against the door. You don't really check your surroundings until you hear a cough. Opening your eyes — immediately landing on Beomgyu.

Because of course the first free room you enter is his.

"This is breaking and entering." He hums with a smirk bringing the cup of whatever liquid was out there to his lips.

Letting out a dry breathless laugh, leaning your head back against the door with a thud. "Of course you're here."

His voice dripping with arrogance, the subtle comments already ticking you off. "You're in my apartment? — uninvited by the way."

"Haeun dragged me along, wouldn't be here otherwise."

"You act as if this place has an infestation."

"It does, you."

He doesn't immediately reply to your last comment, looking at you for a moment before there is a banging on his door.

With an annoyed groan he gets up from his bed walking to the door about to open it, startled by you grabbing his hand your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not here." You say firmly your eyes glued to his.

Beomgyu cant help but grin, despite your silent pleas he opens the door, thankful you're hidden behind the door.

"Is y/n here?" Immediately recognising the voice to still, looking at Beomgyu's side profile as he also recognises who it is.

"Hm?" Feigning innocence as he looks your ex up and down. "Nah she wouldn't be caught dead here."

"I just saw her —"

"You didn't."

"I did —"

Cutting him off again with a grin. "You really didn't, maybe cool it on Kai's mixer, yeah?"

Before he can even respond he closes the door shut on him.

An audible sigh of relief escapes your lips when you suddenly are pulled back to reality.

Opening your eyes you're met with Beomgyu, smiling as if he won the best prize in existence.

"Anything you wanna say to me?"

"Not really."

"Not even — thank you Beomgyu! You're so awesome and handsome thank you for scaring away my evil ex!" He says an exaggerated tone, enjoying watching your eye twitch.

"Only one of those three things are correct." you resort, not immediately noticing when he gets closer to you.

"Yeah? Which one." He whispers with a grin, looking at you, enjoying your annoyed state.

"Drop dead." You say flatly, unimpressed.

"Cmon not even a thank you?" Close enough to where you can smell the faint traces of whatever flavoured vodka was out there.

You don't respond to him — you also don't pull away despite every rational part of you telling you to.

You cant tell if the room shifted from the close call with your ex or the way he's looking at you.

Or the way you're looking at him.

Both of you in no right mind, clearly.

"You barge into my room while I was peacefully drinking — bringing drama and a man child with you, not even asking for an apology just a thank you." His voice teasing, enjoying this too much, using all your might to bite back a comment.

"Peacefully drinking alone, at your own party — kinda pathetic really."

"I was escaping." He says quickly.

"Escaping what?" Replying instantly, turning the tables on him — smiling as you await his response.

"You."

Both of you shocked at his instant response.

"Glad I have that effect on you." you tease pushing him.

Unsure of how much time has passed, seconds, minutes — feels like it's been an eternity.

All you know is his eyes haven't left yours.

Now — you're drunk! you both are, not nearly in the right state of mind.

That's your excuse! as said earlier, sensibility is a mere bystander when drunk.

Neither of you know what you're doing but you know that this isn't supposed to be happening. Despite that, neither of you are making any move to stop.

"God — you're insufferable." You spit out, your voice breaking only making him grin.

"Then why are you still holding onto me." His words snapping you back — your fingers still clinging to his wrist from earlier.

"What? No quick response?" His voice dropping slightly, looking you up and down, watching as your breathing quickens.

"You're all talk yknow — the second something real happens you cave, you hide behind witty remarks but it's all bark no bite."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Years of stupid fights, petty revenge and unresolved animosity pilled into a single kiss.

You don't know who started it, but everything else fades.

The taste of him taking over you — the cheap beer, flavoured vodka is all you can taste. His hands holding onto your face as if you'll disappear if he lets go. The kiss messy and unfocused, both of you too out of it to process whats really happening. Grabbing desperately onto each other, teeth clashing, heavily breathing into the kiss not pulling away to breathe properly.

Whatever he's mumbling into your mouth you don't register, your head foggy from the alcohol and him.

Not remembering how you ended up on his bed.

Definitely not remembering how you ended up naked.

Waking up in the morning you're immediately hit with a dull throb in your head, not just the back — the front the sides it's seeping down your body — fuck what happened.

Opening your eyes you see an unfamiliar ceiling.

You feel unfamiliar sheets on you — fuck are you naked.

Panic sets in as you try recalling last night — trying to make sense of anything — everything. Looking around the unfamiliar room, a tinge on recognition and remembrance.

Before you can even process your eyes snap to the door, Beomgyu.

Standing in the door frame pants hanging low on his waist, a smirk also gracing his lips as he looks at you.

Slowly it comes back to you — in blurred memories, your heart dropping to your stomach as you let out an exhale.

"No." You say simply your eyes running over the room, yourself — him.

He simply smiles deviously knowing you're panicking.

"Morning sleeping beauty." He says in a sing song voice — looking too smug for your liking, enjoying this too much.

"No." You reiterate, unable to say anything else as you process whats happening — what happened.

"Was last night so good I fucked the rest of your vocabulary out of you — doesn't really make sense though.. All you were saying was yess Beomgyuuu, harder Beomgyuuuu don't stop Beomg—" His exaggeration immediately cut off as you get off the bed cupping your hand over his mouth your eyes meeting his.

His eyes don't stay on yours for long, drifting down to your frame — your very naked frame. Groaning as you push his face to the side reaching down to the floor grabbing the blanket that fell, wrapping it around yourself.

"What did you do." You spit out through your teeth, shaking from a multitude of reasons because what the fuck.

"Wasn't just me, baby — though I did do most of the work, shouldn't have expected more from you 'course you're a princess —" He teases, his eyes still roaming your frame.

"God, do you shut up," you groan walking away from him, desperately trying to find your clothes from last night around his mess of a room.

Instead of retaliating like you expect he's just watching you, as you scurry around his room. When you find your clothes you don't even bother preserving your decency, dropping the blanket as you try to quickly put your clothes on.

You feel his eyes focused on you, the heat spreading across your body as you get dressed as quickly as possible.

As you stand up you look at him and for once you can't read him, which is infuriating — looking at him, all memories flooding back to you.

"This never happened." You say flatly and seriously, Beomgyu of course not ever taking you seriously.

"Then why are you standing in my room in yesterdays clothes." He hums eyebrows raised, his voice cocky.

"A glitch in the timeline, an error in the universe." You say simply shoving past him, your shoulder knocking his.

Instead of letting you leave peacefully he follows, because of course he does.

"You're acting like this is the end of the world." He eyes trail over you with a grin as you stand at the entrance putting your shoes on, catching your dishevelled state in the mirror, shaking your head slightly before looking at him.

"Shut up." You respond, taking a deep breath, your hands shaking as you try lacing up your shoes.

Beomgyu watches in amusement for a moment, enjoying your unfocused state before kneeling down slapping your hands away tying your laces for you.

"So snappy in the morning, huh?" He finishes your laces with an annoyingly perfect bow, looking up at you with a sly grin.

"It's not happening again." You state, pissed at how he's not taking this seriously.

"Whats not happening again?" He feigns innocence — to annoy you but you just ignore him, slamming the door in his face, standing against it as you try wrapping your head around this nightmare scenario.

God you despise him.

If you didn't see him in this lifetime it would still be too soon for you.

Unfortunately they didn't give you a life time — they gave you two weeks.

When you enter the sanctuary of your apartment after a gruelling class you expect to just shower, eat leftovers and rot. Instead you see Beomgyu relaxing on your couch as if he owns the place.

You freeze in the doorway, your eyes locking on his, a smirk wide on his face as he meets your gaze.

Before you can say anything Haeun enters from her room, her signature smile greeting you as you snap back into reality, smiling softly at her as she envelops you in a hug.

"Hi — how was class? I know you always hate your Thursday classes, and I know we had plans but Gyu asked to come over and yeah it just happened yknow? — but also he was telling me about how you guys are finally getting along —" At this point you're used to her ramble, not knowing how she can talk without breathing. Listening, nodding along until you hear what she said about Beomgyu. Her words fading into background noise.

Refocusing as you smile at her, your eyes glancing at Beomgyu, clearly that's the reason he's so smug, your eyes lingering on his, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, snapping back to Haeun who looks so happy you genuinely can't say anything.

As she finishes talking you plaster on your best smile nodding slowly in agreement.

"Yeah — we're good" you say through your teeth, side eyeing Beomgyu who looks so pleased with himself.

"Really? Really Really — oh good because I need to duck out to see Siyun — something about our project and Beomgyu's staying for dinner so I'm glad you're getting along so you can stay in the same place unattended without murdering each other." she smiles laughing slightly, squeezing you before dipping out of the apartment before you can process.

Closing your eyes, you drop your bag, not bothering to acknowledge him hoping he'd just go away, obviously he doesn't.

Before you can slam your bedroom door on him he stops it with his foot, barging into your sacred space, groaning as you turn to him.

"Get out." You say flatly, unable to deal with his shit for much longer.

"That's not how you speak to guests, did nobody teach you manners?" He teases smiling at you enjoying your annoyed state.

"An unwanted guest mind you."

"Still a guest."

A moment passes, the tension becoming thick and unbearable, your voice catching in your throat as you look at him.

You're not blind, or stupid he's hot, he knows it which makes him even more annoying.

The silence breaks with your voice, slightly uneven from your heavy breathing. "I hate you."

"Feelings mutual." He says simply before making one long step towards you, hands gripping onto your face, capturing your lips in a heated messy kiss, pushing you back onto your bed, groaning into the kiss.

Unfortunately you can't blame alcohol on this one.

Or the time after that at Yeonjun's party.

Orrrr the time when Haeun asked you to pick up some notes for her.

You stopped counting after the 'accidental' run in at the bar.

It's not like you seek him out. That's always been the problem.

He's just always there.

You haven't defined anything with Beomgyu — you don't need to, or want to. He's there when he shouldn't be, there when you need him to be annoyingly enough.

He's always had the uncanny ability to be there when you're already at your wits end, Now instead of making your life a living hell.

He makes your life a living hell then fucks you after.

It's nearing the start of term, everyone's prepping for the dread of exams and assignments, enjoying he last free week before everything starts up again. The campus filled with rowdy college students partying like usual — with a purpose this time though.

Not that Heeseung needs a reason to throw a party, the guy celebrated his professor being absent by throwing a party saying it's what he would have wanted? you don't really question him.

It's nice though — his place, perks of going to a fancy college is most of them are rich, well the parents are anyways.

The party majority outside, a pool party after all — a rare party in the daytime, the disadvantage is seeing all the drunk college kids in daylight, seeing unsightly things you wouldn't usually.

Of course he's here, he's best friends with Heeseung — also seeming to have a slight tendency to go to every party happening but hey.

You don't talk still.

Well — you talk, not nicely, despite sleeping with each other now you still bicker and argue constantly, it usually just ends in him fucking you.

You're inside in the kitchen, not particularly in the mood to day drink — dragged here by your friends against your will.

You hear the foot steps coming into the kitchen, paying no real attention, more focused on whatever was happening in the group chat. That was until you hear an obnoxiously fake cough you recognise. Looking up and seeing Beomgyu, your mood immediately souring, clicking your phone off.

"Seriously." Your tone flat, annoyed simply by his presence.

"Fancy seeing you here." Beomgyu's voice the opposite of yours, a grin plastered on his face.

"You knew I was coming." Folding your arms over yourself, trying not to focus on him — because of course he's in just swim trunks, it's a pool party, you can still be annoyed though.

"Mhm, you knew I was too though so don't act so sour." He steps slowly closer to you, his eyes dragging over your frame, his eyes lingering on your chest before meeting your eyes again.

"Was hoping the universe was on my side considering the house is big enough to count as three apartments." You don't miss his eyes lingering on you unapologetically, your breath hitching slightly.

"Ill find you in every universe." His attempt to flirt only pissing you off, which he knew — it's why he does it.

"You're annoying." You hum, feigning disinterest, heat rising through your body — unable to ignore the way he's looking at you like he knows where this is heading.

"You say that every time." Beomgyu's words coming out nearly in a singing voice, his fingers faintly running up your side, sending shivers down your side.

You can feel his breath faint against your neck — knowing your should pull away — you never do though.

"Still doesn't seem to register to you though." Your voice a careful whisper, acutely aware of your surroundings.

"Kinda hard to considering whenever you say it you stick around anyways ." His voice matching yours, only his is heavier and lower.

"I hate you." Your voice sharp, the harsh words only fuelling him even more. Beomgyu's hands trailing down your waist, holding onto your hip, feeling his lips brush against your neck.

"Keep saying that and ill start to believe you." His voice barely audible, muffled from your skin, only pressing faint kisses against your neck.

"Beomgyu." You say as a warning, your voice not nearly as strong as you'd like it to be.

"They are all busy outback, well be quick.." His voice mixed with his lips pressing right into the sensitive part of your neck not helping you at all. "Well — we might be, depends if you'll behave or not." He teases, feeling him smile against your warm skin.

"Fuck you." Is all you manage to say, your voice cracking, your chest rising unevenly, the only thing stopping you from buckling down is his hold on your hips.

"Only if you ask nicely." He coos against your skin, his breath hitting the wet skin of your neck from his kisses.

Before you can even quip back at him he's pulling you down the hall, closing the bathroom door behind you, immediately his lips crash onto yours, his tongue pushing past your lips, trying to claim every part of you.

Moaning into the kiss, your hands holding onto any part of him you can reach, fingers lacing into his long hair tugging on the soft strands.

Your hold on his hair elicits a moan, only then does the kiss break — Beomgyu not straying far, his nose nudging against yours as you both catch your breath.

Beomgyu's eyes are trained on you, admiring how you're giving in so easy for him already. His grip tightening on your hips.

Pushing you against the bathroom counter, his hold on your hips helping you sit on the counter, absentmindedly playing with his hair — forcing yourself to focus, your eyes trailing over his features — noticing his long lashes, the slope of his nose, his stupidly perfect eyes.

Quickly silencing your own thoughts you pull him against you, your lips colliding, his tongue tracing your lip before pushing into your mouth — fighting for the upper hand.

Neither of you stepping down, tugging on his hair only fuelling him further. Beomgyu's hand snaking up your body, groping one of your tits over your shirt a moan escaping from you unwillingly, using that he nips on your bottom lip.

The kiss is heated and messy, no real sense or rhythm, only the tension you have bubbling over like this is the only output you have.

When he pulls back he doesn't stray far, latching onto your neck, kissing around your skin leaving sloppy wet kisses all over. He settles on the specific spot he may as well have memorised, sucking hard, knowing deep purple bruises will form later on.

Your breathe hitches from the tingling sensation, your grip on his hair loosening only for you to cup his neck for support, feeling your body get simultaneously lighter from his touch but also every mark weighing you down.

"If you leave a mark I swear to god —" Your voice trying to have some bite, quickly failing when Beomgyu nips at your skin, pulling a barely audible whimper from you.

"Or what? You'll stop me — we both know that's not happening anytime soon, angel." You can feel the bastard smile against your shoulder, pressing a final kiss against the already forming bruise before his hands make their way up your shirt, squeezing your tits through your bra.

"You talk all this shit — but when it comes down to it you're all talk, kinda pathetic really." His voice lower and breathy.

Continuing on his hands leave your chest, one slipping under the hem of your shorts straight into your panties, cupping your bare heat.

Only momentarily removing himself to push your shorts off, leaving your panties on, pushing them to the side.

Your forehead falls against his shoulder, trying to mask your embarrassment, failing miserably and only encouraging him.

"See, shes begging for me.. can feel you clenching 'round nothing — shit look at her.." His words not aimed at you, talking straight to your pussy — his words alone forcing a strained whine to escape your lips, your hands gripping onto his shirt, trying to rut your hips to meet his touch, so close but Beomgyu's purposefully putting no pressure on your cunt.

His free hand snakes up to your neck, around to hold you by the back of your neck, fingers softly tracing your skin before pulling you back out of his neck, forcing you to look at him.

The sudden pressure on your neck makes you moan, his fingers pushing down on the sides of your neck forcing you to look at him.

"If you react like this for someone you 'hate' id love to see how you are for someone you like, god — you're such a slut, would let anyone do this to you wouldn't you." His words mean, putting emphasis on hate, as if the word is funny to him, His hand cupping your pussy move slightly, finger slightly nudging your clit, a soft desperate sound escaping you only to fuel him.

"Nah — wouldn't let anyone else touch you like this, only for me right — nobody else can get her like this.." His nose brushing yours, feeling his breath brush against your lips he's that close.

"Eat — ah! shit.." Your voice cracking with your words, cursing yourself internally, Beomgyu lets out a faux mocking sad sound with a grin.

Beomgyu's looking at you at you with his eyes dark, trained on every reaction you make, storing it away for later.

He doesn't say anything right away, letting out an overly dramatic sigh, his thumb brushing over your clit putting sudden pressure on it making you whine, desperate for more.

"What was that — say it again, didn't quite hear you.." His voice quiet, mocking — his lips turned into a smile.

Trying to regain your composure you take a shaky breath, all your senses overwhelmingly taken over by him.

"I said eat sh —" Before you can even finish your sentence his fingers are circling over your soaked hole. Immediately every part of your brain fails you, only focused on his fingers, trying to grind your hips up to push them in.

"You say that but your beggin' for me, sweetheart." He teases, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitches, your brain clouded, unable to think of anything to respond, your lack of response only droning him on.

"So much prettier when you don't open your mouth yknow that — almost can make you tolerable." His fingers tracing softly over your entrance, not pushing in, just putting enough pressure on you to have you needing more.

Your response is a broken moan, trying to bury yourself into the crook of his shoulder again, his hand holding your neck in place stopping you, forcing you to look at him. "Got nothing to say now, huh — all it takes is a little and you're all sweet f'me yeah?" he coos mockingly at you, throwing you a fake pout before breaking into a grin.

"It's okay, m'gonna take good care of her, yeah? shes dripping all for me.." His fingers finally prodding your entrance, stretching you ever so slightly, making you crave more.

"Not gonna deny her any attention because you're being a bitch, god shes craving me, clenching around barely anything."

You're barely processing his words — the sharp words targeted at you then his sweet words for your pussy sending you spinning.

Beomgyu's fingers push into your heat, sucking in a sharp breath as he feels you soaked around his fingers, his hand that rested on your neck moving to your thigh, holding you in place, pressing wet kisses over your shoulder.

Your desperate pleas echoing across the bathroom, finding it hard to remember your in public — at a pool party and all of your close friends metres from you.

Trying to grind your hips against his hand is a failed effort, his hold on your thigh keeping you firm in place. Beomgyu's fingers start thrusting into you fast — giving you no room to adjust to the sensation.

His body memorised yours at this point, knowing exactly which buttons to press, which angle gets draws out the prettiest moans he's been dreaming of since you last fucked.

He's muttering something you can barely hear — not understanding him at all — all your focus on his fingers hit that intense spot dead on.

Your legs start trembling when his thumb starts rubbing raw, harsh but pleasurable circles on your clit, hearing him groan at your walls clenching around his fingers.

Your brains foggy, so focused on the feeling of him — the way you can feel him curving his fingers to hit every spot better, his nails digging into the plush of your thigh — knowing there is going to be small crescent marks lingering for a bit.

You can feel the familiar feeling form in your gut lingering, making it clear that you're close, Beomgyu knows too — the way your whines are getting needier and your walls fluttering so sweetly around him.

Then he pulls out.

Your impending orgasm fades into an afterthought — your whole body tingling from him, fading into a dull throb between your legs.

"Beomgyu I swear to god —" Immediately he cuts you off with a kiss, silencing any complaints.

"Hold your horses angel, don't get your panties in a twist." He says with a grin, stepping back from you only to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down enough to pull out his half-hard cock.

Your eyes go down to his cock unapologetically , subconsciously clenching your thighs, a smirk twitching on his face when he notices.

"Always wondered if there was a way to shut you up." His eyes stay on you, his fingers wrapping around his cock, giving himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist, your hands flying to his broad shoulders trying to stabilise yourself.

Before you can even think of a response he pushes himself into you, giving you no time to adjust, the room filling with both of your panting, your whines shifting to whimpers at the sudden pressure.

"Who knew all it would take was you being a little slut." He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your nails digging into his shoulders, only making him groan from the pain.

Giving you no time to adjust to the heavy feeling in you he pulls out of you, pushing back into you with one mean thrust.

His pace is fast, your walls sucking him in with ease, his tip prodding the spongy spot on your walls with no trouble.

Your moans only growing louder as he thrusts in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping and the squelch of your hips meeting and your wetness pooling at the base of his cock. One of his hands move to your mouth covering it, trying and failing to muffle your moans.

"So loud huh, what — want everyone to know who owns this pussy? Let everyone know you're a little attention whore who starts fights with me just sp I can fuck the attitude right out of ya?" He says in between thrusts, his voice breathy, trying his hardest not to moan when you clench hard around him.

Beomgyu's thrusts grow sloppy, a sign he's getting caught up in his own pleasure. He may be an asshole but he's not cruel, at least when it comes to sex.

His hand snakes down between you too, using your slick to circle your neglected achy clit. As he removes his hand from your mouth, you immediately catch his lips in yours, your hands cupping his jaw — moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you.

Using one of his hands to hike your leg up higher, hitting a deeper angle immediately, pulling desperate whines from you.

The duel sensation of his attack on your throbbing bud, his hips crashing against yours in mean deep thrusts — you can feel your orgasm brewing.

"Taking me so well, baby — this pussy was made for me." The unexpected praise only pushes you over the edge — your orgasm ripping through you hard.

"That's it, come for me sweetheart — knew you had it in you." His thrusts growing even more sloppy and uncoordinated, the feeling of your walls sucking him in deeper from your orgasm — the warm feeling you overtaking him — pushing him to his own orgasm shortly after yours.

Fucking you through both your orgasms he doesn't stop — his fingers growing slower as he draws out your orgasm, making sure to not overstimulate you.

Your moans slowing down as your orgasm washes over you, riding it out, both of you breathing heavily, the room smelling of sex and chlorine.

His movements on your bud only stopping when he snaps back into reality, you wincing slightly from the unintentional overstimulation.

Resting your head on his shoulder as you catch your breath — his unintentionally hard grip hold on your thigh loosening, his fingers rubbing on the red skin.

After a moment of you both gathering yourself, your voice scratchy. "I hate you." Lacking any serious bite, from your voice breathy and throat sore.

He only hums in acknowledgement, his fingers catching your chin forcing you to look at him, a usually uncharacteristic look of concern on his face only reserved for after sex.

"You good." Beomgyu silently hopes the slight concern doesn't show in his tone, if you notice you don't say anything, still trying to think clearly after your intense orgasm.

Not responding verbally, only with a nod, the look dissipates, a cocky smirk replacing it, somehow lighter.

"Not talkative?" He teases, unable to take your annoyed look seriously.

"Shut up."

Both of you seemingly realising he's inside you, feeling his cock soften inside you.

Beomgyu slowly pulls out, making you both wince slightly from the cold air hitting you. Before you can process his fingers dip down between you pushing his cum inside you making you moan suddenly.

When he's satisfied he pulls your panties back into place, enjoying the small wet patch forming from his cum trying to slip out.

"Beomgyu get me tissues we are not doing this." You say with a deadpanned look, the party having hours left and you are not walking around like this. "I already have fucking marks all over me."

"Nobody knows they were from me though." He hums, smiling at your annoyed state.

"Beomgyu." You say as a warning, watching him pull up his pants tucking himself back into his boxers. Looking just as dishevelled as you probably.

"Haeun's probably looking for you, don't wanna keep her waiting do you?" He says heading for the door, giving you a once over. Before you can retaliate he's out the door leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

Hopping off the counter, turning around you look at yourself in the mirror, hair that was perfect before now messy, your make up smudged and lip gloss long gone.

Faint purple marks forming under your shirt, just barely hidden. Silently cursing Beomgyu, and probably cursing him out later for no apparent reason to everyone else but you two.

Your whole body buzzing from your orgasm, and just him in general, trying to get a hold of yourself, fixing everything to try and make it look like you didn't just get fucked on a bathroom counter.

Just as you take a deep breath there is a knock on the door followed by a familiar voice.

"Hey — are you in there, ive been looking for you!" You can hear Haeun's muffled voice from behind the door startling you, giving yourself one last moment.

"Yeah — ill be right out." Haeun seemingly satisfied with that answer wanders off to join the rest of the party, leaving the bathroom you look around, making your way outside to everyone else, your eyes immediately locking on Beomgyu — whos acting like he didn't just ruin you in one of your friends bathroom, you see him glance in your direction, hiding a smirk by taking a drink.

Exams are killing you, metaphorically and literally.

Surviving off TV dinners and a prayer.

Now you're smart, you know that but this is hell — starting off the semester sick and missing a bunch of classes, playing an endless game of catch up, ontop of your other classes.

On top of that Haeun as a roommate is like having excitement reincarnated as a roommate. Constantly coming in to talk, then helping her with her homework and forgetting what you were doing entirely.

Haeun's at her parents over the long weekend, begrudgingly leaving you alone — begging you to come with her.

Unfortunately — or fortunately for you; you couldn't go, your academics crying and in desperate attention.

With Haeun gone you actually are making good work, enjoying the alone time you desperately needed.

You've been at it for hours, energy drinks and water bottles piled up next to your textbooks, everything scattered around your desk, overlapping each other. Trying to cram as much information into your head on all different topics you probably wont even need for your exams.

So you don't particularly notice when you hear movement in the living room — assuming it's your cat being mischievous and or just the hallway traffic outside the apartment.

That's until you feel a hand on your shoulder you jump out of your seat nearly, feeling your soul leave your body, instantly hearing the wheezing laugh of Beomgyu, turning your chair around to see him laughing, nearly keeling over in amusement.

"What the fuck is wrong with you." Your heart may as well dropped to your stomach, beating hard in your chest.

Beomgyu only stifles his laughs for a second before you hit him with your textbook, making him wince and hold his arm, a stupid grin still plastered on his face.

Holding back a small laugh of your own, taking a deep breathe before you look at him, feigning annoyance. "What are you doing here."

The question snaps Beomgyu out of his fit of amusement, looking at you, his eyes trailing over you. "Haeun's at our parents." He states, obviously you know that but not sure why it means he can come over.

"So you decide to break in and harass me?" You raise a brow, crossing your arms, noticing the small pause before he starts speaking, still grinning, but it shifting slightly.

"Not breaking in, if I have a key and also not harassment." He hums, slowly walking back over to you, crossing the small space in a few steps, entering your personal space.

"It's what id call it — and why do you even have a key." You mumble putting the text book back on your desk with a sigh, stretching over your head, the hours sitting down finally catching up to you.

Without warning Beomgyu spins your chair back around to face him, hovering over you, his face inches from yours.

slightly startled from the sudden act you let out a startled sound, bordering on a whine, that only drones him on.

"Missed you." His voice a low whisper, his nose nearly bumping yours.

"You missed sex — and annoying me." You try to deflect, purposefully ignoring the tightening feeling in your chest you definitely don't want to address.

Beomgyu pauses for a second, almost to think for a second, barely acknowledging your snippy remark. "Same thing."

His head dips, his lips brushing over your neck, pressing a faint kiss onto your warm skin before you groan slightly, making him pull back.

A small look of concern, mainly confusion washes over his face, shifting his mood instantly.

"You good?" He questions, the surprising lack of any humour catching you slightly off guard.

"I have to study." Your voice strained, apparent you're exhausted. Slowly he pulls back, raising a brow, his grin softening slightly, still slightly amused.

"You — need to study? Little miss honour roll?" His words teasing, laced with worry still but not as apparent.

"Fuck off, I'm way behind." Your words dragging, closing your eyes, in hopes it will magically cure the headache that's been a dull throb in your head all day.

Honestly you don't know why you're sharing this — the vulnerability, assuming he's going to make some sarcastic remark and leave.

For a moment he doesnt move or say anything, giving a small hum before pulling back. You assume he's finally gonna leave you alone.

Instead he fucking flops back onto your bed.

"What are you doing?" You say slightly exasperated, not a clue what is going on his head — you already said not today so you don't know why he's sticking around.

"Laying down." He shrugs, adjusting to be against your pillows, rustling in your bedside table for a book, pulling out a random one and flipping through the pages, uninterested.

"Why?" You take a breathe, your brows furrowed slightly, still amused — now fully distracted from your studies.

"Your bed is comfortable." He says flatly, his arms crossing above his head, eyes looking over you.

"You've been on it before." Unable to not notice the way he instantly relaxes into your space, as if he belongs there.

"Well — I'm not usually thinking of the mattress when I'm on it." A smirk plays on his lips, memories flooding through your head at the suggestive comment, making you throw a near by bottle at him, which he catches, throwing it onto the ground laughing at your reaction.

"Get out." Nearly at your wits end, a small part of you cant help but be content with this but you quickly silence that thought.

"I'm comfortable." He retorts quickly, the banter surprisingly light-hearted, you've made no real effort to kick him out yet, and he knows that.

"What if Haeun comes back early."

"Unlikely, and you know that."

After a moment passes you let out a groan, spinning your chair back around to your desk, resuming resuming to the best of your abilities to study, not that Beomgyu will let you get much done, also knowing he isn't leaving anytime soon.

Today was going great, well as great as it can go when you have an 8 am lecture. Haeun's classes aren't till the end of the day so you face the annoyance of campus alone.

Well not alone, catching a few of your friends hanging around a lecture hall you quickly join the conversation. As every parts ways, leaving campus or heading to class you continue with Jeongin — a friend of a friend you've met a few times, having a few classes together.

The conversations easy, not trying to force a laugh or pretend to be interested in whatever he's saying because you're actually interested — sharing the same major and interests for the most part.

What you don't notice is Beomgyu — who was originally deep in his own conversation with his friends, his focus shifting when you catch his eye as you walk past him, completely oblivious to him.

Beomgyu completely losing interest in his own conversation, his thoughts never straying from you. Who was that guy? Why are you smiling and laughing so hard — he cant be as funny as him. Not that you'd consciously laugh at Beomgyu's jokes anyways.

Unable to control himself any longer he's making long strides over to where your standing, immersed in conversation.

"Hey there." His tone laced with faux happiness a tight grin on his face, slinging a 'friendly' arm around your shoulders, unconsciously pulling you closer to him and further from Jeongin.

You can feel him on you before you can hear him, his cologne immediately clocking you, recognising the scent too quickly. Annoyance immediately taking over anything you were feeling before, your smile dropping.

Before you can even speak Beomgyu's arms leaving your shoulders, draping himself across your waist, his fingers grazing your hip, sending shivers down your spine.

Jeongin quickly noticing the vibe shift lets out a strained laugh, giving you a quick nod. "Ill see you around, ill see you in class Monday?"

Not fully trusting your voice you just nod apologetically at him. When he's out of range you push Beomgyu off you, looking at his pleased grin.

Looking around before you grab his wrist, pulling him to the nearest building, ending up in a staircase you drag him in, hitting his shoulder.

"What the hell — was that." You say in a whisper yell, quickly looking around to make sure nobody is around.

'What, I'm just looking out for you." He shrugs as if what he did was normal, his expression showing no remorse.

"Oh and you know whats best for me — really?" You let out a dry laugh crossing your arms, shaking your head in disbelief.

Beomgyu doesn't respond right away, stepping closer to you — invading your personal space, his voice dropping an octave, a smile replacing his look of indifference from earlier. "I know the best way to keep you in your place, angel. Might I remind you of last week — or even last night, begging for me —"

"Fuck you." You cut him off instantly, your breathing going uneven from him being so close — knowing exactly which buttons to push.

"Already done that before, baby." He moves even closer, his breath fanning your neck, still not touching you.

The hallway growing heavy with tension, both of your breathing audible — Beomgyu's lack of touch giving you an out if you want it — and you really don't.

"Heres what you're gonna do —"

"Oh yeah, really?" You scoff in disbelief, letting out a dry laugh, heat radiating from him — his calm demeanour sending you spiralling.

"Yeah — 'cause we both know behind this act — because it is an act.." His voice trails off, his fingers reaching up, barely grazing over your jaw. "You cant resist me." He says confidently, his eyes locking on yours briefly before looking over your features.

"You're gonna go to our spot in 10 minutes, and if you're late you're seriously gonna reconsider talking to that guy on Monday." His voice almost venomous when mentioning Jeongin. His fingers leave your jaw, leaving a faint tingle where the lingered, meeting his eyes once again, holding them for a moment — his eyes dark, filled with something you haven't seen before. Jealousy, you don't really want to unpack yet.. or ever.

Barely processing his words before he's out the door — the large entry doors swinging from the wind, leaving you alone in your own thoughts.

The walk alone to 'your spot' was already 6 minutes away, Beomgyu so adequately called it 'your spot' when it's not really your spot — just the most secluded spot in campus nobody has really found, perfect for whenever this — whatever you and Beomgyu are happens.

The walk was painfully slow, drawing it our purposefully to annoy Beomgyu — who has always been the impatient type.

When you arrived you checked your phone, 11 minutes. trying to bite back a small laugh you enter the small room — an empty storage room on no campus maps.

Looking around as you enter trying to scope out Beomgyu — immediately he grabs your hand, pushing you against the wall, his face only centimetres from yours. Feeling his own chest against yours as you try catching your breath from the shock.

"A minute, seriously?" He lets out a dark hum, his hold on your wrist tightening, not enough to be painful — just enough to keep you in place.

"My bad, was enjoying the scenery." You say, your voiced laced with fake sympathy. Your eyes locked on his.

"Cant even follow a simple instruction — god you're useless." He spits out, his other hand roaming over your body, dipping in your jeans.

Your breath hitches, a small pathetic whine leaving your lips involuntarily. Glancing down at his hand. Swallowing the lump in your throat.

"I swear — everything leaves that cute head of yours as soon as I'm around — cant think about anything but how good I make you feel right?" Beomgyu's hand leaves your wrist, unzipping your hoodie, which he immediately recognises as his own — only leading him on.

"Flirting with a random guy in my hoodie? — what would everyone think when they find out you pretend to hate me but act like a little slut the second we're alone."

His fingers leaving your jeans with a whine from you, unzipping the hoodie and letting it fall on the ground — leaving you in only your undershirt.

"God, you're insufferable you know that —" He cuts you off by fucking biting your shoulder. A sound teetering on a wince and moan escaping your throat. Beomgyu quickly soothing the skin with a kiss, resting his forehead on you.

"You talk all this talk but still come back to me — so really how much do you 'hate me' truly." Almost hearing his smile, his voice edging on a laugh only serving to piss you off.

Beomgyu's hands running over your body, settling on your hips, skimming over your waistband, teasing you.

"Beomgyu stop teasing." You try and fail to force your voice to have any sharpness, the words coming out nearly as a whine.

"Say please.." Beomgyu mumbles into your shoulder, pressing wet open mouthed kisses along your collarbone, leaning your head back against the wall instinctively to give him better access causing him to smile against you.

Not responding at all only causes him to sigh dramatically against you — his smile never fading. "Say please and ill give you everything you want baby, just one word."

"Fuck off." Your voice lacking any bite and confidence, Beomgyu pulls away from your skin, admiring briefly the wet marks adorn on you.

Suddenly you feel the pressure of his hand against your throat, pressing down on the sides just enough to make your heart skip, looking at you like prey — his leg slipping in between your legs, pressing against your heat pulling a desperate moan from you.

"Say please and ill be nice."

"You're never nice."

"I am to people who don't act like brats." Beomgyu's eyes trail over you, admiring you unravelling under him.

You mumble it, barely audible but enough to make his grin widen, pressing down on your throat again making you whine. "What was that, didn't quite hear you angel." His voice just above a whisper.

"Please."

"See, was that so hard, pretty girl." His hand leaves your throat — the sensation quickly being replaced by his lips, both his hands wandering over your body greedily.

You know you should probably stop — but you seriously cant.

It's like an itch that you know you shouldn't scratch a sore, you know if you keep scratching it, it'll get infected but it feels so good when you do.

You know you definitely shouldn't keep sleeping with him — he pisses you off, makes your life hell, he's your best friends brother.

You still keep ending up in his bed.

Or him in yours.

Which is exactly what happened, the sore got infected.

Well — You got caught.

Nearly.

Got off by the skin of your teeth.

It's winter, it's also one of your rare free days off from work and college. No assignments due, no homework just nothing.

Which honestly you're not complaining about, slightly glad you have no impending assignments to stress about.

Both you and Haeun are relaxing in your room - the only one with heating that works moderately well.

You're on your bed scrolling on your phone, paying no attention to whatever Haeun is doing, hearing her shuffling through your room.

You're best friends, ride or dies — having nothing to hide, in your room at least.

Well that you know of.

"Whats this?" Haeun's voice pulls you from your phone, glancing over at her by your closet. Unable to see what shes holding you lean forward a bit. When you see what shes holding all blood rushes from your face.

A hoodie, simple! But Haeun knows your wardrobe, this is not your hoodie and she knows that.

The simple black hoodie which could belong to anyone? Your laundry must have been mixed up, right? You can use that excuse —

"Weird, Gyu has one just like this, same brand and everything, and rip too —" Haeun trails on, immediately you cough, bringing her attention to you.

"It's apart of the design I think — must've gotten mixed up with someone from the laundromat" You shrug feigning innocence. Haeun looks at you for a moment longer than needed, not fully buying it but not pushing.

"I guess." She hums slightly, laying it on the back of your chair, flopping next to you on the bed, you hope she cant hear or sense your heart racing and your blood pressure rising with every second.

"So, any reason for the snooping?" You try shifting the topic, Haeun unaware smiles immediately.

"Siyun asked me on a date, tonight." She lets out a dramatic sigh, you cant help but smile at her excitement. "Said he wanted to be spontaneous, and that it's worth the surprise."

You hum in acknowledgement, letting her continue her rant, in your head you're just glad she believed you, then it hits.

The guilt.

The guilt of lying to your best friend, doing this behind her back and shes oblivious, knowing that both of you are the most important people in her life and you're both lying to her.

Moving through the apartment in a haze, following Haeun around as she talks and gets ready for her date, saying what you need to say, talking enough to not have her questioning where your head is.

Because if she did ask if something was wrong, you're not sure if you could lie any longer.

As she heads out for her date you're left with your thoughts, which is never good.

Because what would she think?

If she found out you were sleeping with her brother from finding his clothes in your closet — which how the hell did it get there.

God you don't wanna imagine her face — the pain, the lies.

The only reason she didn't question further was because she trusted you, and him. Because if she did question further — if she looked any closer to the hoodie, she'd see not only the 'designed rip' — she'd see the exact same stain from chem lab, his stupid doodles on the tag — and that you definitely couldn't blame on a stylistic choice.

Before you can think you're grabbing the hoodie that was plaguing your thoughts and you're out the door — not really thinking about it.

Well you know where you're going.

You know the way without even needing directions — you have the route memorised from late night walks to his, or him walking you back to yours even when you didn't ask.

You don't text him you're on your way or that you're going over; because you know he'll reply with some stupid and flirty joke which you definitely don't need right now.

It's only a ten minute walk, you wish it was longer — not nearly enough time to actually think about what you're going to say. Stopping yourself involuntarily at his door — you know his roommates not home — why do you know his roommates schedule, because he doesn't shut up so you're forced to listen to him.

No other reason.

You don't have a plan, the ten minutes feeling like three, fuck what were you going to say — what was he going to say.

You cant even knock before the door swings open, of course as you expected he answer — he's the only one home what did you expect — fuck why are you doing this.

What you didn't expect was him to answer looking like heaven or hell depending on how you look at it reincarnated, pants hung low on his hips, his boxers peaking through, the small happy trail visible, peaking out from them. Shirt slightly askew from whatever he was doing before — not bothering to adjust.

Trying to gather your thoughts you're just standing there in his doorway, basically gawking at him. His expression smug, amused at your clearly dishevelled state.

The next thing you process is his touch — his fingers lingering on your arm, pulling you inside. Tumbling inside you immediately recover from your daze, shoving the hoodie into his chest, letting it fall to his feet.

"What the hell is this." Your voice teetering between a yell and a whisper.

Beomgyu simply looks at you with amusement, looking you up and down a smug smile on his lips. "A hoodie, cmon angel, you're not that stupid."

"No I mean what is it doing in my closet." You spit out, feeling your blood pressure rise from him just existing.

"I put it there." He says like it's the simplest thing in the world, with the audacity to just shrug it off.

"No shit — I mean why, Beomgyu." Your voice raising, your anger growing into confusion. Your brain going a thousand miles a minute trying to figure out why he put it there so recklessly.

His eyes leave yours for a split second, his expression changing briefly before looking back at you. "In case you got cold or something."

His words linger in the air for a moment — processing what he said, what his words meant.

Turning around from him, groaning in annoyance your hands running over your face.

"Are you seri — Haeun nearly caught us." You say through your teeth, your palms digging into your eyes, taking a breath before turning to face him, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation.

Beomgyu freezes momentarily, taking in your state, his lips turning up in a small smirk, enjoying your frazzled state.

Letting you continue your spiel, his eyes following you as you pace across the room.

"The only reason she didn't is because she trusts me — us, so when I say it was some random persons laundry getting mixed up with mine she believed me — because why on earth would I ever lie to her." Your voice trailing off from anger to guilt, your fingers twirling the necklace dangling from your neck — ironically the matching one you have with Haeun.

"You're overreacting." He says calmly, in hopes to try and soothe whatever your feeling — his words only making it worse.

You scoff in disbelief taking a deep breath looking at him. "No — no! If anything I am under reacting right now — fuck I knew this was a stupid idea, we cant keep doing this."

Beomgyu stills for a moment, his feelings unreadable — confusion, maybe slight annoyance — hurt maybe?

"Because of a hoodie? If she questions further just say — I don't know, I left it at your place and you just sorted it with your —"

"Oh my fucking god, Beomgyu — not because of a hoodie! Because we are basically betraying Haeun!" Your sharp words cutting him off quickly, breaking off at the end, exasperated and exhausted, from everything — the hiding, the guilt — the unknown of what the fuck you are, both of you too stubborn or scared to ask.

You know in the grand scheme of it, you're overreacting but you cant help it — the months of guilt, unspoken feelings bubbling over.

The sharp contrast of before — when the neighbours could most definitely hear you arguing and now — an eerie quiet, both of you just — there.

"We need to end this."

"No."

"You cant just say no —"

"I am, I have a say in this."

"Beomgyu why are you fucking fighting this! — All we do is fight then have sex, it's unhealthy and —"

"You're only ending it because you're scared." His voice is steady, his arms crossed as he leans on the back of the couch, watching you unravel.

"God — you're so arrogant, I'm thinking of Haeun — and I swear to god if you keep interrupting me." You pace around in front of him, basically vibrating at this point, your skin warm, your hands flailing around as you talk.

"You're always thinking of Haeun, Y/n." His eyes follow you around, remaining calm, an unusual lack of any smart ass remarks.

The mention of Haeun makes you stiffen in your spot, your eyes locking on his.

"Fuck you."

You spit out almost like venom, your breathing growing uneven from getting worked up.

"Isn't that what you're trying to avoid?" He hums, a small cocky smile growing on his lips.

You let out a dry, humourless laugh, unintentionally moving closer to him, your fingers running over your face trying to calm down. "We are not doing this! God you're so —"

"What? Self absorbed, egotistical, arrogant? Try me, you've called me everything under the sun, angel." He tilts his head towards you, breaching your personal space, you make no real effort to move.

"I hate you."

"Every time you say that it gets less and less believable." He quips back instantly, his voice dropping an octave.

The tension between you growing palpable, laying it all on the table and still so much left unsaid.

Beomgyu takes a moment before moving even closer, feeling the warmth radiating off you.

"You're such a brat."

"Do you honestly think Haeun would care if we were sleeping together?" His voice flat, emphasising the honestly, trying to get you to see his view.

"Yes — what kind of question is that." You stammer, dumbfounded, his question seeming stupid, of course she would care — If you found out your best friend was hiding something like this you'd be pissed.

He doesnt respond instantly, just looking over you — gauging your expression, almost like he's analysing you. "No, you care. You're using Haeun as an excuse to avoid how you actually feel."

You scoff in disbelief shaking your head, a dry laugh escaping your lips. "That's not what this is — and don't act like you know me."

"No? Then what is this then — because I do know you, I know you better than you know yourself half the time."

Everything about this is wrong, You and Beomgyu have always been wrong, everything about him irks you irrevocably, you don't mesh, you don't work — so why doesnt it feel wrong.

Arguably you know that this is stupid — and that yes, you are using Haeun to avoid how you feel but that's just because you don't know how you feel.

Beomgyu is irritable in the same way a headache is — he's arrogant and obnoxious. He's competitive with only you, he's a dick to only you, so why the fuck is he fighting you on this.

You have your own revelations about this — whatever you are, but whats in it for him? Why you — why is he so protective of whatever you are, refusing to end this. Honestly it wouldn't surprise you if he's being hard just to piss you off, but you know that's not the case.

A part of you is desperate just to understand him — You've always prided yourself in being able to read people pretty well but you just cant with him.

When you break the silence it's with a dry laugh, your eyes meeting his, which were already trained on you.

"I'm not doing this."

"No we are, actually." His reply is instant, almost as if he predicted your response.

Your feet move before you can think, instinctively walking away — from him, this conversation, unsure if you even wanna hear what his opinion is because he's incapable of shutting up.

Before you can even make it to the door you feel him on you, his hand clasping around your wrist — not tight enough to hurt but enough to stop your movements.

Your back meeting the wall with a small thud — the space between you small, barely existing. The faint feeling of his breath against your skin, his fingers loosening around your wrist but lingering.

"You cant just walk away because you don't wanna talk about us, you don't get to just run away because your avoiding talking about how you feel."

"I'm walking away because the conversation ended, there is no us to talk about." Your body betraying you, your harsh words having no malice with your voice uneven, unable to even meet his eyes.

"Bullshit, you and I both know that's bullshit." He spits out, his voice low, barely louder than a whisper, if you didn't know better you could almost sense the hurt in his voice.

"Beomgyu." You say, nearly as a warning, for both of you.

"If there is nothing between us why are you so scared of Haeun finding out, if you think for a second what we have is just sex then you're not as smart as I thought."

His words instantly catching you off guard, the sudden vulnerability — the reality of it. What you had was 'just sex'. You don't think about the after, when he lingers, when he asks about your day, when he's always just there when you need him without realising you do.

Seeing it in the moment as an annoyance, because if you thought about the fact he actually makes you smile, and isn't always an arrogant asshole.

"It is just sex — you're acting like we have a normal relationship outside of it we aren't even friends! All you do is fight me on everything." The rational part of your brain trying to get him to see the logic — well your logic.

"Maybe it's just sex because you never even let yourself think it could be more, maybe I fight you on everything because it's the only time you're real." That familiar feeling — the stutter you always ignore, the small feeling whenever you see the other side of him takes over your chest.

He was right — to a point, you never let yourself think about him more than sex — because what then?

In a way you liked the way your relationship was, the way he always was there to fight you on things — to push you, fuck it was annoying but still.

Because you knew he was a good person — you've always known that, maybe that's why you could never hate him in the way you claimed.

Everything is too much — your own thoughts, his words — just him.

You let out a deep ragged breath, bordering on a laugh, unable to even look at him — your mind trying to find anyway to leave — because the bastard is right, you do run away.

Pushing him back enough for you to quickly walk away — again.

Again, Beomgyu is not having it.

His hand grabbing your wrist again, pulling you into him — his lips crashing onto yours. His hands cupping your jaw, not letting you even think about leaving again.

You immediately kiss back — its not soft, its desperate, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip briefly before his tongue slipping into your mouth, claiming every part of you, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, your fingers moving to lace into his hair, tugging at his hair, almost trying to pull him close enough to fuse into him.

The kiss is heavy — so much unsaid, trying to tell you everything without words, trying to show you how much he needs you.

Beomgyu only nips at your lip before pulling back, earning a pathetic whine from you, a string of spit connecting you, his forehead resting against yours, his fingertips barely on your cheek anymore, like he's trying to treasure you — too precious to touch.

You can barely even comprehend whats happening when you feel him laugh, his whole body shaking as he does, pulling his face from yours. His hand trailing down your cheek to your throat, wrapping around the front, his thumb pushing your chin up so you're forced to meet his eyes.

"Still easy." His voice having a rasp to it, his eyes so familiar — but also filled with something unfamiliar that you can now place — possessiveness.

"Fuck you."

"Only if you ask nicely."

Unable to stop yourself you crash your lips onto his again, desperate for him to just shut up for once.

It's desperate — messy, trying to pour everything between you into this, He's swallowing you whole — every part of you is consumed by him, his soft plush lips against yours — the faint taste of his lip balm, the coffee he was drinking before, everything about him making you dizzy.

Beomgyus hands are on you, his fingers kneading your hips — clumsily leading you to his room, both of you refusing to part from each other. Knocking into furniture — only making you huff into the kiss — a small moan escaping your lips when you feel his teeth nip at your bottom lip — swallowing the sound you make instantly.

The next thing you know is the kiss breaking — Beomgyu pushing you down onto the mattress, the small gasp that escapes only makes him smile above you, quickly kneeling to meet you, his hand cradling your face, tilting it up to meet him. Your lips parting instinctively — wanting him — needy for him.

"All this talk —" His voice gravelly, breaking with need, the deep sound echoing, going straight to your core, a small whine leaving your lips, looking up at him, silently pleading for him to do something — anything.

His lips trail down your jaw, when he gets to that particular spot he knows is sensitive his teeth nip at the skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, sucking hard making sure to leave a mark.

Because that's one thing he knows pisses you off — marks, does he do them anyways, yes.

You cant even bring yourself to fight him on it, every reasonable part of you turned against you.

His lips leave your skin, the sudden cold air hitting your wet skin making you whine, the whine only him smirk, unbelievably cocky that only he has this affect on you.

Beomgyu's eyes wander over you, noticing the small strip of skin exposed from your shirt riding up, the fact you clearly weren't thinking properly when you rushed over here, your legs exposed, the small sleep shirt barely hiding anything.

He's drinking you in — no matter how many times you've slept together he'll never get enough of this — you.

the sight of you; who is usually bratty, always running her mouth, laid out — begging for him, someone who she claims she detests.

God — the amount of times he's considered taping this, just to show you who is actually in charge.

He only snaps out of his trance when he hears your pathetic pleas, grasping at his hand, pulling him back towards you.

Grabbing at your wrist, his thumb presses against your pulse — the feeling of it beating under him only sending him crazy because its you.

Everything about you drives him insane — he can never get enough of you.

"Look at you, huh? I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how pathetic you were. Begging — being all sweet just for me, right?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, His fingers skimming over your torso, over the soft fabric that's leaving little to the imagination.

His eyes are trained on your face, focusing on all the small details, the way your eyebrows crease whenever he calls you one of the pet names you hate, the way your tongue pokes out when your concentrated — the way you get teary eyed whenever he teases you, how you look when his fingers press on your tongue — basically begging him to take all of you.

"Beomgyu.." Your strained voice only making it all worse — how even after everything you still needed him. Getting impatient, your head thrown back while your body arches into his touch.

a voice inside is telling him to hurry up because he needs you just bad, another part of him needs to prolong this — to show you just how much you need him, how much you really want him.

His fingers trace over the exposed skin of your stomach, not missing the way you shiver when his fingers touch you.

Every touch is electric — Your patience wearing thin, he's always had an affect on you — that's what got you here but this was different, he was drawing this out, taking his time messing with your head. His touches feeling different, lingering longer than necessary and on purpose.

Beomgyu's fingers dip under the hem of your shorts — so fucking close to where you need him, you think he's finally about to do something.

then he pulls his hand away. Not only that, pulling off you fully, standing tall over you.

The words die on the tip of your tongue when you see him pull his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room with no goal. Kneeling on the bed hovering over you again, his face close enough where you can feel his uneven breathes against your face.

"Do you have any idea what its like to deal with you." His voice is quiet — broken almost, like he's trying to hold back but cant.

His words instantly catch you off guard, taking a sharp breath, not even able to say anything before he continues.

"You're everywhere — I cant escape you even if I wanted too, and every time we fight — god do you know what it takes for me not to ruin you in that moment." His fingers tighten on your hip, voice dripping with need, you can hear him holding back.

You don't say anything — you cant, his words, bordering on a confession leave you breathless, not trusting your voice even if you tried.

"Always running that mouth but now, you're speechless?" He hums, his eyes focused on your shirt, his fingers bunching up the fabric at your waist, slowly pushing it up further and further.

His fingers graze over you mindlessly, his touch feather like over your side, the soft touch making you shiver. Beomgyus finger gently wrap around your wrist, pulling you up, quickly moving back to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, letting it land on the ground.

You can feel his eyes on you — Guiding you to lay back onto the mattress, hearing him audibly take a breath, his eyes never leaving you.

His thumb tracing over your chest, over the thin fabric — purposefully ignoring your perked nipples peaking through the thin bra you were wearing.

"Beomgyu." The breathy whine doing nothing to pull him from his gaze, his fingers reaching around to unclasp it, the bra loosening instantly.

Slowly, his fingers pull down the straps, letting it fall onto the space beside you, leaving you exposed. Beomgyu doesnt let you feel insecure to worried, his head leaning over your tits, his breath ghosting over one of your nipples making you gasp.

His tongue poking out, teasing you — licking the top half of your boobs, pressing sloppy kisses everywhere but you need him to.

Finally, his lips wrap around your nipple, teeth grazing over the sensitive bud, sucking hard, his other hand creeping up to your neglected tit, fingers tugging on your nipple, twisting and flicking it between his fingers.

Your hands rush to his hair, arching into his mouth, a string of desperate moans leaving your lips. He only moans when he feels you tug on his locks, his other hand gripping on your hip, stopping you from moving, affectively caging you under him.

His hand leaves your hip, smoothing over the band of your shorts, wasting to time pulling them down, letting you kick them off. His fingers running over your newly exposed skin, making your breath hitch.

With a pop, his lips leave your tit, the skin red and spit soaked — you make the mistake of trying to look down at him — his eyes already trained on you. His pupils blown, cheeks dusted pink, his hair a mess from your fingers running through it. You can feel him everywhere — his touch leaving your skin tingling.

His fingers carefully trace over the plush of your thigh, tapping at your inner thigh, telling you silently to part them — of course you do so instantly.

"Such a good girl — why cant you be like this all the time?" He tsks at the end, biting back a grin, the smugness in his voice pulling an embarrassed whine from you.

Pushing your legs apart further, his fingers circle the exposed skin of your inner thigh — testing you, so close to where you need him. You try pushing your hips up, trying to meet his fingers.

A small chuckle escapes his lips — not that you're focused on that, your brain a one track mind — only thinking of him, his touch.

His middle and ring finger brush over your cunt, his touch barely counting — still it drives you insane.His eyes drift down, looking at your body — desperately arching into his touch.

His fingers sliding down your folds collecting your slick — letting out a strangled sound, before you can think his fingers push inside you.

The sound that escaped was small — somewhere between a gasp and a moan, finally feeling him. His fingers stretching you out, curling deep inside your cunt.

Your moans fill the room, his fingers pumping inside you — hitting that addicting spot every time.

"F-fuck — don't stop.." Your voice breaking midway — Beomgyu's fingers scissoring inside you stretching you out more, his rhythm is mean — giving you no room to breathe.

"So tight — fuck, she takes me so well — shes sucking me in like she doesnt want me to leave." He takes a sharp breath, almost like he's holding back a moan — barely even registering your words, focused on the feeling of your cunt around his fingers — sucking him in, your warm walls taking him so well.

The feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you — the sudden loss of him only for him to slam his fingers back inside you, curling into that sweet spot that makes you clench around him hard.

His other hand grabs one of your thighs, hooking it over his hip, the sudden change of position only making his fingers push deeper in you.

You cant even do anything but moan, pulling him down to your level, your lips attaching back to his. "Beomgyu — ahh fuck! I'm gonna c-cum pleaseplease! —" Your words barely coherent, so focused on Beomgyu's fingers fucking you, the sound of your wetness echoing through the room.

You can almost taste the sweet release of your orgasm —

The he stills his fingers in aching pussy.

"Beomgyu what the fuck —" Your voice broken and coming out as a whine, the fading pleasure only making you try and chase it again — trying to buck your hips up to meet him, failing desperately.

"You think you deserve this — after being a brat?" His words teetering on a dry laugh, a dark, smug grin is all you see when you open your eyes.

You let out a choked sob — your whole body burning up — desperate for his touch again. "Please, — please." Your greedy — so desperate for that release you'll do anything.

Beomgyu's fingers suddenly start fucking into you — his palm meeting your clit with every thrust, his pace fast and rough.

"Look at her — so needy, just for me — gonna take care of this pussy, shes so sweet for me." Your back arches off the mattress, your walls fluttering around his digits, your clinging onto him — not letting him part from you for a second. Your head falling to his shoulder — sobbing into into him trying to muffle your loud, desperate moans.

The coil in your gut snaps — your orgasm rips through you. Your legs spasming around him, a string of nonsensical moans — his fingers pressing against that gummy spot on your walls relentlessly, fucking you through your orgasm — your release coating his hand, your walls sucking him further into your cunt.

Before you can even process Beomgyu's hands are on you — pulling you down to hover over his face, his hands kneading the plush of your hips, your legs already shaking from your previous orgasm making it impossible to stay stationary over him.

His arms wrap around your thighs pulling your cunt flush against his face, licking a long stripe up your cunt — drinking up your cum.

Falling forward you grab the headboard — trying to stabilise yourself, your brain working overtime, fuzzy from your orgasm and the warm, wet sensation of his mouth drinking up all your cum.

"Beomgyu — too much, shit! — " You gasp, your free hand tangling in his hair, unsure if you're trying to pull him closer or push him away.

Beomgyu's tongue laps up all of your juices — swirling over your oversensitive clit, the wet messy sound of his saliva mixing with your cum.

Already working in overdrive from your previous orgasm your next one crashes over you — Beomgyu's tongue swirling around your entrance licking up all of your cum — moaning low against your pussy making you jolt.

You cant help but grind against his face — using his tongue to ride out your orgasm, and he's letting you. His fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, keeping you right on his face, if you weren't so utterly fucked out you would have worried about his lack of oxygen.

After a moment his hold on you loosens, helping you off, leaning back on the mattress, her head hitting the pillows — the familiar scent of him consuming you.

Beomgyu settles between your legs, hooking your legs over his shoulders, basically bending you in half. His free hand strokes his cock, tapping his tip against your clit, smearing all the wetness over his cock.

"Look at you — fuck shes begging for me, mama." He hisses through his teeth, letting out a guttural groan deep from his chest. His eyes trained on your cunt — clenching around nothing, basically begging for his cock.

With one deep push he's inside you — the position only making him go impossibly deeper, feeling him everywhere in you, his hand smooths over your stomach pressing over the bulge in your stomach from how deep he is in your gut.

"Look at her — sucking me in, takes me so well every fucking time — doesnt she?"

You cant even reply — your eyes lolling shut, unable to keep them open, Beomgyu's cock sliding in out of of your pussy, pushing your legs impossibly closer, needing to be even closer to you somehow.

His cock buried deep inside you, roughly thrusting into you, his hips meeting yours.

Feeling every drag of tip against that gummy spot he's set on, his cock stretching you open — no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, your cunt sucks him like she never wants him to leave.

"Only I can fuck you like this, huh? Look at you — what? Fucked too stupid to even reply?" His lips brushed against your neck, his words coming out ragged and out of breath, almost punctuating every word with a sharp thrust.

The ache of your body being basically folded in half is in the far back of your mind — the pleasure ripping through you is all consuming — everything in your head being turned to mush only echoing one coherent thing — beomgyu.

"All angry at me when all you need is to be taken care off, yeah? Maybe instead of being a bitch just ask nicely and you can get — fuck, what you want." He hisses through his teeth, his pace faltering for a moment, his mocking words making you squeeze his cock tightly, nearly pushing him out.

Through all of the pleasure all you need is him closer — almost like he can sense it he leans down capturing your lips in a needy kiss, one of his hands moving off the mattress to cradle your face.

The kiss was heavy — it was laced with so many unspoken words, almost trying to tell you how he was feeling without speaking, holding onto your face tight, not letting you even try to move away from him, swallowing every sound — every pretty moan you let out.

you only break the kiss when a particular deep thrust knocks the air out of your chest, a small whimper escaping your lips. "Gyu — m'so close please.."

The sound that escapes Beomgyu's throat borders on a whimper — his thrusts growing sloppier, feeling him twitch inside you, taking a sharp breath against your lips, his head resting against yours.

"If you call me that again im not lasting, angel — fuck, squeezing me so tight, need to cum yeah?" He mumbled against your lips, you can practically feel him grinning against you, pulling back only to bury his cock deep into you — squishing your legs further into your chest, only letting him fuck you even deeper.

Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks, your sobs only morphing with your choked moans, the tight coil burning in your gut — so sensitive its too much but you need it — your pussy spasming around his length, your vision going blurry.

His cock heavy in your gut — his thrusts persistent and precise knowing exactly where every button to make you lose your mind is.

"For someone so — fucking sure she hates me, you sure beg for me like a little slut? You think you deserve to cum?" His words pull a desperate, choked sob, feeling his thrusts slow dangerously, feeling your high slowly slip out from under you. eagerly you shake your head in disagreement, his eyes lingering on the wet splotches of tears staining your cheeks.

"Cum for me, angel — that's it, good girl, let everyone know who you belong too, that's it —" his voice coming our raspy, dragging out the praise. With his words your orgasm comes crashing over you — your head throw back against the pillows arching impossibly closer to him — his hips crashing against yours, coming undone around his cock.

"Taking it so well — fuck gonna cum.. Gonna fuck you full, not gonna tell me to stop either, huh? She's begging for more, to fill her up — fuck. His words growing incoherent as his own orgasm comes crashing, the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, creaming over his length as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Reaching up your fingers card through his hair tugging on the strands, pulling him closer to you, his thrusts not wavering, his own release making him more insatiable. The wet sounds of him fucking his cum into you — mixing with your own release only drones him on.

"She's taking me so well — gonna ruin her, only I get to have you like this, fuck shes dripping, can barely take it all." Your brain is shutting down — the only thing you can feel is him, its almost too much — orgasm after orgasm ripping through you.

After both of your highs calm down his thrusts slow, stopping after you let out a small whine. Slowly pulling back, his hand rubbing at the muscles of your sore legs, pulling out of you, mumbling under his breath. Watching as his cum mixed with yours, trickles out of your fluttering hole.

The room falls quiet, the small sounds of your breathing, the wind and rain from outside barely audible.

Beomgyu's eyes trail over you, taking in your state, focusing on your face — your eyes still shut, recuperating from just before. He leans over, pressing a feather like kiss onto your temple before standing up.

Stretching out, groaning comically loud only making you bite back a small laugh, He pulls up his boxers making his way out of the room, returning moments later with a wet cloth and a bottle of water.

You're staring up at the ceiling, just processing — the night ending in the way it always does for you both, but this time its different. You've both said things — maybe not a lot, or even all of how you felt but its not nothing.

Beomgyu settles between her legs, dragging the damp cloth over her, cleaning up the mess from between her legs.

Looking at him its almost domestic — a surprisingly soft expression on his face, cleaning you up gently, his free hand stationary on your leg, soothing the warm skin.

You only look at him briefly before his eyes meet yours, quickly looking back at the roof. Feeling Beomgyu pull away from you — you nearly felt colder, his warm presence shifting away from you.

Your mind is racing through everything — every thought ending with him, everything you try to distract yourself with somehow always ends in you thinking of Beomgyu in some shape or form.

Coming back to reality with Beomgyu calling out your name repeatedly, resting next to you on the bed. You swallow the lump in your throat giving yourself another moment before turning to him finally.

"I hate lying to her." Your voice small, the sudden shift is noticeable, finally having the conversation you've been avoiding since this started.

"I know." You were surprised when he actually took it seriously — didn't play it off as a joke, a part of you finally feeling like you can understand him.

you continue, "I feel guilty, like im hurting her —" Your short ramble quickly cut off.

"You know she wouldn't care, angel."

"Okay — logically I know that, okay but its one thing if we were serious but we're —" You trail off, breathless, a small weight simultaneously lifted off your shoulders and weighing you down.

Your eyes dart back to the ceiling, everything about this feeling new, undiscovered, raw — real.

He silently brushes some stray pieces of hair from your cheek, before taking a breath. The realisation that this conversation has probably been on his mind too — all your realisations are probably ones he's had.

"I don't think she needs to know what we are yet, and I don't particularly feel like telling her about me sleeping with her best friend."

The implication of yet doesnt brush past you — yet means that, yes he wants to tell her but also because he doesnt really know what you are yet.

"I don't hate you, I never did."

"Then why did you make my life a living hell?"

"Because — it was fun to see you riled up, enthusiastic."

"It was just a game to you?"

"You've never been just anything to me, you've been everything."

His words take all the air out of your chest, rendering you truly speechless. His vulnerable words shocking and you don't know what to say. All of his feelings out in the open — eagerly awaiting your response.

"You were that annoying and obnoxiously loud kid in class who always pissed me off." You say flatly, Beomgyu raising a brow at your sudden and harsh words.

"I pour my heart out to you and you say all that? Geez tell me how you really feel." He says lightheartedly with a small smile trying to lighten the tense mood.

'You were easy to hate." The words falling out of your lips quieter, more timid than you intended, he picked up on that.

"Were?"

"Shut up."

Beomgyu's face lights up with a cheesing grin, poking at your shoulder, amused by your embarrassment.

"No you said were — past tense."

"Oh my god do you shut up —" Your quickly cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hand cupping your jaw, deepening the kiss. Only pulling breaking when you him gently, resting your hand on his shoulder.

"I was talking." You say unamused, Beomgyu however found his hilarious, only adding to the situation.

"I know."

He leans in to try and kiss you again, only for you to flick him, his dramatic reaction pulling a small smile from you.

"Beomgyu." You say hesitantly, still unsure of what this is — almost sensing it he quickly cuts off any thoughts.

"We don't need to talk about this all at once, as long as we are on the same page."

"And that page is?"

"That you're undeniably, irrecoverably —" Beomgyu's hand rests back ontop her cheek, pressing a kiss to her temple before pulling back, a stupid grin on his face " — obsessed with me."

"You're stupid." You reply instantly, not able to shake the amused smile on your face.

"You've called me way worse."

general taglist: @nanilis @hoonsocks @sweethoons @beomiracles @izzyy-stuff @yvampyr @kookiesnkim @owlieuwu @seungminsslut @hyukascampfire @yawngnab @hoonicon @rianzysworld @soobabbee @nainai112 @drkbl00d @lottiesls @xhoinicx @b4echo

txt taglist: @tttubatttu

[saccharinezennie]

don't think they know .ᐟ.ᐟ c.bg

secret.bf!beomgyu x colleague.gf!reader .ᐟ headcanons

warnings: SMUT! p in v, dom!beomgyu x sub!reader, office sex (duh!), takes place interchangeably between their offices, rough sex (i think), unprotected sex (don't!), he has a slight pain kink, creampie, mentions of fingering & squirting, teasing, sexting, mentions of getting married, dirty talk, jealousy, possessiveness, sexism in the workplace, beomgyu is down bad, attempted fluff at the end

scznote: these were supposed to purely be headcanons then it became a bit of a drabble >< woops (1.2k words) may contain errors!

based on this ask i received from an anon a while ago! majority of this became filth, ah! hope you like it anonie! x

secretbf!beomgyu who is the secretary of your company’s ceo. he's sharp, quick on his feet and carries an effortless authority that makes entire departments bend to his command, under the instruction of his superior, of course. most people in office are just as intimidated by him as they are your boss – considering he ranks far above you within the company's hierarchy

secretbf!beomgyu who first fell head over heels in love with you after watching you fight relentlessly for the women in your marketing department. he had watched you advocate for the recognition and promotions you all deserved. he had watched you demand accountability in a workplace where the men constantly resold your ideas as their own and god, beomgyu had admired the way you had refused to shrink yourself to keep the peace

secretbf!beomgyu who had quietly raised your department’s concerns to the appropriate executives, having made sure the issue would no longer be ignored

secretbf!beomgyu who believed in you when your male colleagues dismissed you and your own female coworkers chose to be passive

secretbf!beomgyu who, when promotion season arrived, had made sure that your name was finally attached to the work you had been carrying all along – putting in a good word for you with the chief executive at the official board meeting – his heart having soared when the other executives and shareholders had agreed at the mention of your name, securing your promotion

secretbf!beomgyu who had kept in touch with you even after you'd earned your promotion. lunch together had turned into dinner and dinner had eventually turned into late nights and hushed confessions at his place – and the rest is history

secretbf!beomgyu who does a brilliant job at keeping your relationship under wraps – or so he thinks

— aside from the countless bouquets of your favourite flowers sent right to your office under the guise of an anonymous secret admirer, along with your usual order of coffee every single morning, secretbf!beomgyu is terrible at hiding that he's hopelessly in love with you, his gaze alone giving him away

— and if your boss notices, he doesn't say anything, simply shooting you and beomgyu amused looks

secretbf!beomgyu who fails to control the way his eyes soften and his grin widens whenever you enter the room or the way the executives exchange knowing glances every time he personally volunteers to “review” marketing reports that only happen to come from your division

secretbf!beomgyu sends you risky texts during meetings with your marketing department, just to see your cheeks flush a deep pink while he looks ahead, putting on an innocent act as he adjusts his glasses – the casual "you look extra good today. sit on my face?" making you short-circuit

secretbf!beomgyu who can't keep his hands off of you, lord

secretbf!beomgyu who sneaks you into his office for a steamy makeout session, like routine, every single day at lunch or especially after said meetings, even more so when you're working together on overtime. he just can't help himself

secretbf!beomgyu who, against your better judgement, almost always turns your makeout sessions into quickies – locking his office door the second you step over that threshold

— and who are you to say no when your handsome, tall, charmer of a boyfriend backs you against the nearest wall or desk, or seats himself in his leather chair, pulling you right into his lap

"have i ever told you how sexy you look when you're pitching all your ideas to the board? sitting through those meetings gets a lot harder when you’re the one presenting"

— you give in every time, weak when his hands grip at your stockings, when he ruts his hard-on against the already soaking fabric of your panties, lips and teeth licking, sucking, biting at the skin of your neck

secretbf!beomgyu who only tuts when you whine, "beomgyu, not here—" , shutting you up with a hungry kiss. your moans are all swallowed greedily by his mouth, bringing every protest to a halt. "shh, sit back for me" , he commands in that tone that sends shivers down your spine and you obey him within seconds

secretbf!beomgyu who loves that you're barely able to keep quiet as he takes you rough, the desk – or whatever surface he's got you against – shaking and squeaking vigorously beneath you

secretbf!beomgyu who mocks you for every slip of your mouth, for every needy whine and sobby whimper that accidentally tumbles from your lips

secretbf!beomgyu who stuffs his tie in your mouth, biting back grunts and moans when your hands pull and tug at his hair – hard

secretbf!beomgyu who can actually keep it down, save for the breathy, gruff sighs that manage to escape him and the occasional hisses through his teeth when your cunt squeezes around him

secretbf!beomgyu who has to fight the urge to land a loud smack against your ass when he has you bent over, gripping at the flesh like an absolute beast

secretbf!beomgyu who rams even harder into you when one of your male colleagues, specifically hueningkai from the IT & tech department calls and knocks at the door of your office – reveling in the way your eyes widen and you clamp a hand over your mouth

oh, how secretbf!beomgyu despises the sweet smiles and texts hueningkai leaves for you on your desktop whenever he's fixed a bug on your workstation. he's greatly annoyed that the blonde even thinks he has a chance

secretbf!beomgyu who grits things out like, "should put a ring on your finger so everyone knows you're mine" , "look at you, all fucked out on my cock. he could never fuck you like this" , "pretty head full of marketing plans runs empty when you're full of me, yeah?" and "what would the board say if they saw you now, hm?"

secretbf!beomgyu knows all your sweet spots, relentlessly working his thick, heavy length against them, rendering you brainless, his name right on the tip of your tongue when he gets you to cum, spasming wildly around him

secretbf!beomgyu cums inside of you, claiming you – tempted to fuck his release back into you with every rhythmic pulse of your cunt

secretbf!beomgyu who loves watching his cum dribble out of you when he pulls out, keeping wipes in your cabinets to clean it all up

secretbf!beomgyu who's always holding back from sliding two long fingers up your slit and into your pussy, solely to push his cum back into you – tempted to work you until you finish and squirt it all out, ruining his pristine suit. no, he always reminds himself, he'll just have to save that for when the two of you are at home

secretbf!beomgyu who only chuckles when you gawk at the mess that is your desk, grinning smugly as you scramble about to tidy up, the slightest limp in your step

secretbf!beomgyu who unknowingly confirms every dating rumor when he steps out of your office without his–

"glasses! i forgot my glasses in your office!"

devil. he just came back for seconds after spotting hueningkai in the hallway, his sly smirk betraying his true intentions – and you pray, just like every other day, that the two of you are able to finish before the time ticks for lunch to be over – even if you know beomgyu's going to continue what he started the second the two of you get home

how can you resist? you just hope no one in office catches on – after all, you don't think they know

.ᐟ.ᐟ extra .ᐟ.ᐟ

bf!beomgyu who fucks you as hard, loud and long as he's been craving to at home. he holds nothing back when it's just the two of you – all the pent up, suppressed desire searing to the surface

bf!beomgyu who, when you're all cleaned up and your eyes become droopy, kisses you goodnight sweetly – whispering affirmations of adoration and devotion to you, the deep timbre of his voice lulling you to sleep

bf!beomgyu who falls asleep with a smile on his face, subconsciously matching the one on yours – dreaming about finally putting the ring he's kept hidden, on your finger

scz note: i had to make it fluffy at the end! ah! hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! don't be shy to comment or reblog! <3

to the sweet anon who shared their idea with me, i hope i did your ask justice! x

taglist: @tyunningism @earthtomei

perm taglist: @yunverie

masterlist

[heemunch]

mute your mic ☆ ──꒰ ✉️ ꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ c.sb

GAMER!SOOBIN HEADCANON 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 dating a man who’s obsessed over you and league of legends is probably the best thing that’s happened to you. smut 18+

gamer!soobin who fucks you harder each night every time he loses a ranked game of league of legends.

gamer!soobin who “loses” matches on purpose just to hear you whimper whenever he carries you and pins you down onto the bed as punishment

gamer!soobin where you have to disconnect the wifi entirely so he pays attention to you, but he doesn’t complain.

gamer!soobin who lets you dryhump him, suck him off, play with his dick—whatever you want to do—while he’s on the game. he has to turn off his mic every other game because his moans are so loud, you two aren’t sure how you haven’t gotten a noise complaint.

gamer!soobin who only unplugs his headset when you ride him in silence. he loves hearing your sweet wet noises against him, how hard you clench around him when you try to suppress your moans against his neck.

gamer!soobin who turns off his mic when you’re sucking him off, and when you’re done, his teammates wonder why he suddenly sounds so wrecked mid-match

gamer!soobin whose bed is always unmade because he can’t wait five seconds to pull your clothes off before climbing over you.

gamer!soobin whose hands roam your thighs during ranked matches, fingertips pressing just hard enough to leave marks later—how much he loves when you squirm when he digs in too deep.

gamer!soobin who loves to finger you like CRAZY. especially with those big veiny hands of his. he likes to hear you cry, get overstimulated, and whimper his name while he’s marking you all over

gamer!soobin whose fingers slide into your pussy before he even finishes a match. he likes it when his mechanical keyboard gets messy all over with your fluids.

gamer!soobin who makes you cum on command just so he can hear the way his name flutters on your tongue during his ranked games.

gamer!soobin whose sweatpants are always tented because you keep teasing him while he’s trying to focus on clutching a 1v5.

gamer!soobin who leaves hickeys along your collarbone just so his teammates can slightly hear you gasp every time they ping for help.

gamer!soobin who keeps a stash of lube in his drawer, right next to his set up just in case inspiration strikes you mid-queue

gamer!soobin who always tells his friends he needs a bathroom break, knowing that he only called it because he wanted to do a quickie with you.

gamer!soobin who eventually stopped getting on as often to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of you to stretch you wide enough for his size. taehyun texts him every night asking when he’s going to get on, but he’s way too busy with you to answer.

gamer!soobin whose bought three different bed frames since you guys started dating, each one louder and flimsier than the last.

gamer!soobin who overstimulates you because you squirt all over his fingers before he can even get inside of you. he loves to get his fingers soaked, and christ—you can barely even handle two.

© 5-53pm. all rights reserved 🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮ 2025

[gyuuberryy]

brain empty, just you !

loser!txt's reaction to you getting them flustered

genre: fluff, humour

warnings: suggestive content!, making out, kissing, choking(the good kind heh), whiny!txt, stuttering, swearing, down bad!txt

note: finally writing for txt after like 2 years. i did a similar one for enha so naturally i had to do it for txt because they're soo silly. i also had to finish writing this after looking at beomgyu's very motivating recent buff pics omg. enjoy reading!

word count: 3.8k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

YEONJUN

yeonjun tries so hard to play it cool as your boyfriend—all confidence and swagger—but the moment you so much as hold his hand for too long, he’s hiding his face in your shoulder, whining about how "you're trying to kill me!" he’s the type to shamelessly beg for your attention one second, then get insanely flustered when you actually give it to him. he’ll send you selfies captioned "thinking about you, babe ;)" and then shrivel up and die if you call him cute.

and now, as he sits beside you on his couch, watching some random movie, he’s completely oblivious to the way you’ve been staring at him for the past ten minutes. he’s scrolling on his phone, glasses slipping down his nose, occasionally mumbling a reaction to whatever’s on screen. his bare face looks so pretty in the dim glow of the television, lips slightly parted, his brows furrowing every now and then.

he looks kissable.

"why are you looking at me like that?"

you blink, snapped out of your trance. yeonjun turns to you, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"like what?" you ask, tilting your head.

"like you're about to bully me."

you let out a soft hum. "i was just thinking."

he snorts. "that’s never good."

you ignore him. "you’re not a very good kisser.".

his entire body goes stiff, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. his phone slips from his grip, bouncing onto his lap, and he blinks at you in pure devastation.

"huh?" he finally croaks out, voice cracking horribly.

you shrug. "i mean, you're just kinda… meh. nothing special."

yeonjun’s jaw drops. he presses a dramatic hand to his chest like you’ve just stabbed him. "EXCUSE ME?!"

you barely hold in your laugh at his utterly betrayed expression. "i dunno, babe. you just kinda suck."

"I SUCK?! i—when? why didn’t you say anything before" he whines, eyes wide with disbelief.

you hum, inspecting your nails. "I was being nice."

yeonjun gasps, clutching his chest like a 19th-century widow. his ears are red. "YOU WERE BEING NICE?! BABY, MY EGO—HELLO?!"

before he can spiral into a full-blown meltdown, you reach up, gently plucking his glasses off his face.

his words die in his throat.

"which is why you need more practice," you murmur.

his breath hitches.

then, before he can so much as process what’s happening, your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him in as your lips crash against his.

yeonjun whimpers.

he goes boneless instantly, melting into you like putty. his plush lips part against yours, kissing you back so desperately, so messily, it’s obvious he’s completely lost in it. your fingers tangle deeper into his hair, tugging lightly, and the sound he makes—somewhere between a whimper and a whine—sends heat rushing through you.

it’s a mess. his lips move against yours with a feverish hunger, hands gripping your waist as if you’ll disappear if he lets go. he’s so eager, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that makes you shiver.

when you finally pull away, only because you need air, yeonjun chases your lips with a needy whine, trying to pull you back in.

but then, against your lips, he mumbles in the saddest, most pathetic voice:

"do you really think I’m a bad kisser?"

you lose it.

a laugh bubbles out of you, and you cup his face, pressing a soft peck to his nose. his cheeks are burning, his brows furrowed in genuine distress.

"i was just messing with you, baby," you giggle, pecking his lips again. "i just needed an excuse to kiss you. I literally can’t get enough of you."

yeonjun blinks. once. twice.

then he groans, dramatically collapsing onto your shoulder, wrapping himself around you like a clingy koala. "you’re SO mean."

you laugh, rubbing his back. "you love me."

"unfortunately," he grumbles, muffled against your neck.

you smirk. "and you’re a great kisser, by the way."

he peeks up at you, still red-faced, before stealing another quick kiss—like he needs to make up for lost time. and despite his flustered state, you know he’s already planning ways to get back at you… if he ever stops blushing long enough to think straight.

SOOBIN

for someone so tall and broad, soobin is an absolute baby when it comes to you. the man stutters every time you compliment him, avoids eye contact when you so much as hold his hand, and malfunctions if you get even a little bit flirty. he physically cannot handle any form of teasing—his ears turn red, his hands get clammy, and he lets out those pathetic little whimpers whenever you catch him off guard.

right now, though, soobin is doing so well pretending to be normal.

you two are in his kitchen, baking together, and he’s very focused on whisking the brownie batter. his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted, his strong arms flexing with every precise movement. the sight of his broad shoulders tapering into his slim waist is so unfair. the way his biceps subtly shift under his oversized t-shirt?—it’s all so unfairly attractive. he’s doing absolutely nothing and yet, somehow, he’s driving you insane.

you step forward, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and burying your face into his back. soobin stiffens. like, completely freezes. you swear you can hear his heart pounding from this position.

then—

"b-babe?" he croaks out, voice cracking violently.

you giggle, tightening your hold around him. "mhm?"

"w-what are you—" he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you press a soft kiss against his nape. his breath shudders. you grin against his skin, pressing another kiss, then another, trailing them slowly up to his jaw. you can feel his entire body trembling beneath your touch, his grip on the whisk turning bone-white.

"b-baby, i—"

you don’t let him finish. instead, you suck gently on the soft skin just beneath his ear.

soobin lets out a broken whimper. his whole body shudders, and you swear he whines when you lick over the spot before sucking again, harder this time. his free hand grips the counter for dear life as if that’ll stop his knees from giving out.

"s-stop," he begs, voice so weak, so pathetic.

you don’t stop. you drag your lips across his skin, finding a new spot to bite down on, leaving another mark, and—

"OH SHIT!"

you pull back, startled, just in time to see soobin staring in absolute horror at the bowl in front of him. he’s gripping a salt container. and he just dumped a quarter of it into the brownie batter.

there’s a moment of dead silence.

then—

"YOU DISTRACTED ME!" soobin wails, turning to face you with the saddest pout you’ve ever seen.

you burst out laughing.

"soobin!" you gasp, holding your stomach. "oh my god, you—oh my god—!"

"this is NOT funny!" he cries, stomping his foot like an actual child. "those were gonna be SO GOOD!"

"they still can be!" you tease, wiping a tear from your eye. "just... y'know, if you wanna die of sodium overdose."

soobin groans, covering his face in shame. "i hate you."

you smirk, stepping closer. "no, you don’t."

"I DO."

"no, you don't."

"i dooooo—"

he cuts himself off mid-whine. because suddenly, he’s hit with an idea.

a horrible idea.

and you see it in his eyes before it even happens.

in the blink of an eye, soobin spins around, trapping you against the counter. his arms cage you in, his broad frame looming over you, and he leans in all slow and deliberate, trying to act like he knows what he’s doing.

"now look what you’ve done, baby," he murmurs, voice dropping an octave.

oh.

oh, he thinks he’s being hot.

the problem is—he looks more adorable than hot, because his ears are bright red, his eyes keep darting to your lips like he doesn’t know where else to look, and the way he’s breathing just the tiniest bit too fast gives away how insanely nervous he is.

then he licks his lips.

(or at least, he tries to.)

because the second his tongue peeks out, he accidentally bites it instead, letting out a pathetic little "ow."

you stare at him.

soobin freezes.

the tension shatters.

then you die laughing, "you—YOU TRIED TO BE SMOOTH AND THEN—!"

"NOOOO, WAIT—!"

but you’re already giggling uncontrollably, fully doubling over against his chest.

soobin groans, hiding his face in his hands. "ugh this is so embarrassing!"

you lift your head, still laughing, pressing a kiss to his flaming cheek. "you’re so cute, baby."

"don’t say that!" he whines, flailing his arms.

but you just smirk. "what? i thought you wanted to be all smooth and confident?"

soobin collapses onto the counter, burying his head in his arms. "i am NEVER doing that again."

you giggle, patting his head. "i dunno, baby. i think it was kinda hot."

soobin lifts his head slightly, peeking at you with hopeful eyes. "really?"

you grin. "no."

he lets out the loudest groan ever.

 BEOMGYU

beomgyu is the absolute worst best friend to have a crush on. he’s loud, annoying, and somehow always finds new ways to make you suffer. he’s clingy in the worst way—stealing your snacks, flopping onto you like a deadweight whenever he’s tired, and absolutely refusing to let you do anything in peace. he always has to be touching you—whether it’s throwing his leg over yours, wrapping his arms around you like a koala, or straight-up lying on top of you like you’re a personal mattress.

but the moment you touch him first? malfunction.

the second you get even a little flirty? shutdown.

and lately, you’ve been having way too much fun testing that theory.

because beomgyu’s been working out.

like, seriously working out.

and god, is it showing.

he’s huge now—his shoulders broader, his arms thicker, his waist still slim but now complemented with solid muscle. you don’t know when exactly he started hitting the gym like his life depended on it, but you do know it’s made play-fighting with him so much harder.

like right now, for example.

you’re on your bed, engaged in an intense pillow fight, but it’s not even fair anymore. beomgyu used to suck at this—he used to wheeze and flail and scream whenever you got the upper hand. but now? now he’s too strong. every time you swing at him, he effortlessly blocks it, laughing at your pathetic attempts to win.

"aw, what’s wrong?" he teases, easily dodging your next swing. "is someone losing?"

you scowl. "shut up."

"no, seriously," he grins, mocking you. "this is sad. like, you’re not even putting up a fight. are you even trying?"

oh, fuck him.

you drop the pillow, launching yourself at him instead.

beomgyu yelps as you tackle him down, using your weight to pin him beneath you. before he can react, you go for the kill—your fingers digging into his sides, tickling him ruthlessly.

"no no WAIT—"

his laughter explodes from his chest, high-pitched and desperate. he squirms, his muscles tensing under you as he tries to fight back, but you’re relentless, giggling as he gasps for air.

 but then, just as your giggles subside, you become painfully aware of two things:

beomgyu looks hot.

you want him to choke you.

the realization hits you like a truck. because holy shit—he’s under you, panting, his face flushed, his arms bulging as they grip your waist, his lips parted just slightly, his brown eyes dark and half-lidded as he catches his breath.

oh.

oh, no.

you freeze, eyes locked on his.

beomgyu, of course, being the oblivious loser he is, just blinks at you, completely unaware of the thoughts flooding your brain.

and then he flips you over.

in one quick motion, Beomgyu has you pinned instead, his thick arm curling around your neck in a chokehold.

your brain short-circuits.

because—

this is exactly what you wanted.

and Beomgyu, still oblivious, leans down, his breath hot against your ear.

"what now, huh?" he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, teasing tone. "you thought you could win? look at you now."

oh, fuck.

your entire body shudders. this is too much. his scent, his weight, the way his arm presses against your throat just right—

"god, this feels so good."

the words slip out before you can stop them.

beomgyu freezes.

and then—

"…huh?"

his grip loosens instantly, and he stumbles back like he’s been electrocuted. his face is burning red, eyes wide in pure, unfiltered panic.

"w-what do you mean—" he gulps. "w-what do you—w-what—h-huh—?"

you blink up at him, suddenly just as flustered.

"uhm—"

"n-no wait—like—" beomgyu waves his arms, looking so painfully distressed. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT FELT GOOD—?"

you gulp, forcing yourself to meet his panicked gaze.

and then, because you literally have no other choice, you blurt out, "i think i like you."

beomgyu stares.

he stares.

and then he glitches, mouth opening and closing, hands twitching by his sides, brain fully crashing. his eyes dart everywhere except at you, his entire face a shade of red so intense you’re afraid he might actually pass out.

"you-you like me? like—LIKE ME like me?"

you bite your lip, nodding shyly. "yeah."

his breath catches and he immediately looks away, running a shaky hand through his hair, looking like he’s about to combust.

"h-holy shit—" he mutters under his breath. "oh my god oh my god—"

then—

"WAIT—SO YOU—SO YOU LIKED THE CHOKEHOLD?"

you groan, covering your face. "BEOMGYU—"

he wheezes, hands on his knees. "OH MY GOD—"

you swear he giggles. like, actually giggles.

then he stops and his entire body shudders.

and he whispers, "holy shit, that was kinda hot."

you choke.

"BEOMGYU!"

"you’re a freak," he teases, grinning. "wanting me to choke you and shit—"

"OH MY GOD SHUT UP!"

but when he pulls you into a hug, still laughing, still red-faced and awkward and loser-ish in the best way, you can’t help but smile.

TAEHYUN

taehyun is a very serious tutor. he has strict rules—no distractions, no unnecessary conversations, and definitely no messing around. this is a learning environment, not a hangout session.

he prides himself on his focus, his ability to remain calm under any circumstance. he’s the type of guy who color-codes his notes, has a rigid study schedule, and unironically enjoys doing practice questions for fun. he does not—under any circumstances—get flustered over dumb things like romantic tension.

at least, that’s what he used to believe.

then you happened, and suddenly, his ability to not be a complete loser around you has disappeared entirely.

from the moment he agreed to tutor you in math, things have been an absolute disaster. you’re so unfair. you bat your eyelashes, you ask him to repeat things you already understand just to hear his voice, and worst of all, you stare at him. like he’s some kind of fascinating subject to study instead of the guy desperately trying to keep his composure while explaining differential equations. 

he thought it would be fine—after all, he’s taehyun, and taehyun doesn’t get distracted. but within one week, he realized he was in deep, deep trouble.

because you mess with him. constantly.

like today.

you're both seated at a table in the library, supposed to be going over trigonometric identities. taehyun has the patience of a saint (or so he tells himself), but after fifteen minutes of you not even pretending to be paying attention, he's starting to lose it.

because you're staring at him shamelessly, chin propped up on your palm, eyes locked onto him with a lazy smile playing on your lips.

he tries to ignore it. he really does. his eyes flick to the textbook, his pen tapping against the table in a controlled rhythm. but it’s like your gaze is physically burning into him, and the more he tries to focus, the harder it gets.

finally, he snaps.

"what?" he blurts, gripping his pen so tightly it might explode.

you blink, all innocent. "what do you mean?"

"you're staring at me."

"oh." your lips curl into a slow smirk. "i was just thinking."

taehyun immediately doesn’t like the sound of that.

"thinking about what?" he asks, voice strained.

"how pretty you are."

his pen drops to the table with a clatter.

"i—" he chokes on air, already feeling heat crawl up his neck. he forces himself to focus, grabbing his pen with a death grip like it’s some kind of life support. "th-that’s irrelevant. get back to the problem."

but you? oh, you're evil.

you lean in closer, resting your chin on your hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. "i mean it," you hum. "you’re so cute, taehyun. it’s distracting."

distracting?

oh, the irony.

because you’re calling him distracting while he’s actively trying not to combust on the spot.

"s-stop," he stammers, adjusting his glasses even though they don’t need adjusting. "i—i don’t see how this is relevant to trigonometry—"

"it’s not," you shrug. "but I think you should know how much I like looking at you."

his breathing stops.

and then, as if you haven’t already destroyed him enough, you reach forward and fiddle with the hem of his sleeve, fingers brushing against his wrist like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

taehyun physically malfunctions.

tis ears are burning, his pulse is racing, and for the first time in his entire life, he has no idea what to do.

and so? he chooses violence.

without a word, taehyun slams his textbook shut, grabs his bag, and bolts out of the library so fast that he nearly trips over his own feet.

"we’re done!" he yells over his shoulder, voice cracking. "see you next week!"

you lose it, dissolving into laughter as you watch him practically sprint out of the building, ears glowing red.

and somewhere, down the hallway, taehyun is muttering under his breath about how this is why he should’ve never agreed to tutor you.

oh, he is never living this down.

HUENINGKAI 

hueningkai has been a mess around you for as long as you can remember.

it’s kind of ridiculous, really. despite being handsome and built like a human teddy bear, he has zero game. like, none at all. he stutters when talking to pretty people (you), trips over his own feet at least twice a day, and would definitely combust if you so much as complimented him unexpectedly.

and the fact that he’s your best friend bahiyyih’s older brother just makes it all the more entertaining. every time you so much as acknowledge his existence, bahiyyih rolls her eyes like she’s watching a romcom in real-time.

it’s adorable, really.

which is why, when he hesitantly approaches you after lecture one day, eyes darting everywhere but at your face, you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to be good.

"c-can you help me shop for hiyyih’s birthday?" he stammers, gripping the straps of his backpack like his life depends on it. "i—i don’t really know what to get her, and you're, um, good at this stuff…"

you smile, amused. "of course, kai. let’s go."

fast forward an hour later, and you find yourself in a cosmetics store, browsing through endless rows of lip glosses.

you hold up two tubes, lips pursed in thought. "i can't decide between these two," you mumble, glancing at kai, who has been hovering behind you like a nervous puppy the entire time.

his eyes flicker to the glosses, then to you, then away, like he’s afraid of looking at you too long.

"uh, i mean—" he stammers, rubbing his neck. "they both look nice?"

you narrow your eyes. useless.

"i need an actual opinion," you huff before popping the cap off one of them. you apply a coat to your lips, then turn to him with a tilt of your head. "how does this one look?"

hueningkai’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.

iI—it’s pretty," he says finally, voice cracking on the last syllable.

you suppress a giggle, then glance at the other gloss. "okay, but I need to compare. I can’t put this one on my lips because I already have the first shade on."

he blinks, confused. "oh. uh, so—"

"so I should put it on yours," you finish simply.

his face goes from pink to red in record time. his eyes are huge, lips parting slightly like he just had a stroke.

"w-wait—on me?!"

you arch a brow, feigning innocence. "yeah? so I can see the difference properly. otherwise, we’ll never know which one’s better."

his throat bobs. his fingers tighten around the straps of his shopping bag. "i—uh—"

he looks like he’s two seconds away from self-destructing, but then he nods—barely and stiffly presses his lips together.

you bite back a grin.

he really is a loser.

gently, you lift the applicator and lean in, holding his chin steady with your free hand. his skin burns under your fingertips, and you swear you can hear his breathing get shakier. his eyes squeeze shut, his shoulders tense, and his entire existence is one giant ball of nerves.

but the second the wand makes contact with his pouty lower lip, he starts fidgeting.

"kai, hold still," you laugh, reaching out to cup his face with one hand. his cheeks are burning, and his lips part in surprise as your fingers graze his skin. his entire body locks up, lips parting slightly as his breath hitches. his big, round eyes are glued to your face now, completely mesmerized as you lean in closer.

his lips are so pouty. plush, glossy, glistening under the store’s lights, and suddenly, it feels like your body is moving on its own. before you can stop yourself, your gaze flickers to his wide, dazed eyes—then down to his parted lips—

and you kiss him.

It’s soft at first—just a press of your lips against his. but the moment you start to pull away, he—to your utter shock—kisses you back.

slow, hesitant, but definitely kissing back.

his lips move against yours in a way that’s both nervous and eager—like he can’t believe this is happening but wants more anyway. his hand hovers near your wrist, as if he wants to hold you closer but is too shy to do it.

and that’s when it hits you.

you just kissed hueningkai. in public.

iou jolt back, eyes wide. "i’m so sorry—i-i didn’t mean—"

but kai? he just stared at you, lips still glossy, blinking like his brain is still catching up to reality. then, slowly—so, so shyly—he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, lips curling into the tiniest smile.

"i... liked that, actually," he mutters, barely above a whisper.

the air turns thick with tension, and you can’t tell who’s more flustered—him, with his red ears and adorably shy expression, or you, with your pulse hammering a mile a minute.

for a long moment, neither of you say anything.

and then, in a quiet, hesitant voice, hueningkai clears his throat and asks, "s-so, um… which gloss do you think looks better?"

you laugh, cheeks still warm. "honestly?" you glance at his lips. "i think i like this one better."

and just like that, his face explodes into color all over again.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @soobnuuy @moafloribunda @lunalovesstories @firstclassjaylee @levandright @fancypeacepersona @mirouie @gaonashi @firstclassjaylee @kkamismom12 @evandsolo

[yeonilla]

not to be an unclassy freak but boy am i craving big dick yeonjun

Anon I don’t blame you yeonjun is definitely packing some serious heat..🫣 LETS TALK ABOUT ITTT

BIG DICK YEONJUN HEADCANONS

⚠︎: this post contains explicit sexual content read at your own risk!!

- let’s just say he's not shy about it but he doesn't brag either!! he just knows he's packing and he enjoyed your reaction when you found out. he loved seeing the look of shock and awe on your face when you realized how big he is.

- he likes to tease you by making you beg for it, knowing that you can't handle all of him at once. He'll make you work for it tho :(( teasing you with just the tip before finally giving you what you want.

- he takes pride in being able to satisfy you in ways others can't but he's also very attentive to your needs and boundaries. he loves to push you over the edge and make you cum harder than you ever came before.

- sometimes he worries that his size might be intimidating or uncomfortable for you so he always makes sure to communicate and go slow if you need it. but once you’re comfortable, he’ll let loose and fuck you hard.

- he loves the feeling of being deep inside you, especially when you’re moaning his name and begging for more. he'll pound into you relentlessly until you’re screaming his name and begging him to cum inside you.

- yeonjun enjoys experimenting with different positions and techniques to see how deep his dick can go in you.

- he gets a thrill out of public sex or risky situations where there's a chance of getting caught. the thought of someone seeing him fucking you with his huge cock turns him on like nothing else you have no idea lorddd.

- yeonjun also has a high sex drive and can go multiple rounds in one night without getting tired. he's always ready for more action, no matter how many times he's already cum.

- yeonjun is definitely the type to send teasing pics or videos to of himself to you showing off his size and making you crave him even more. he'll send a pic of his massive cock bulging in his pants or a video of him stroking it until he's about to cum but he’ll never give you the full video :(

- he really enjoys receiving oral and loves the feeling of you struggling to take all of him in your mouth. he’ll grab the back of your head and force you down on his cock making you gag and choke as he fucks deep in your throat.

- and yeonjun is not afraid to get a little rough in bed but he always makes sure you’re enjoying it too. he'll spank you, choke you, and pull your hair as he pounds into your hole with his huge length.. (🤤)

- he also has a bit of a kink for being worshipped and loves when you tell him how big and impressive he is. he'll make you get on your knees and worship his cock like it's a god.

- he loves the slurping sounds of your mouth while you go down on him. he also loves when you suck his tip and massage his balls. gosh the combo makes his knees buckle..

sorry this is soo late :<