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𝒎𝒊 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂

[wonbinisms]

어렸을 적 외쳐 I'm a star ✰

[ MASTERLIST ]

dividers by @pixopix

[wonbinisms]

teacher’s pet * j.sc

enemies to lovers | college au | agedup!sungchan | fluff

When you first met Professor Jung he was just Sungchan, ‘the professor’s aide’. Dangerously competent and charming. The new graduate had grabbed the attention of many of the girls in class, including yours. However, whereas the others fawned over his tall stature and handsome features, you fixated on his unreasonable and inexplicable vendetta against you.

Maybe it was payback for getting higher scores than him on the exams freshman year or for quickly becoming one of the faculty’s favorite star students. Whatever the reason was, the act grew old fast. Every test had mild comments of disappointment written in the margins. Every opinion of yours stated in class was given a solid counter argument. Every achievement was marked by hesitant yet genuine praise. Incidents that continued even — especially — while he was your professor.

Nothing improved. If anything, it got worse. On top of the controlled tensions during class, Professor Jung also constantly asked you to stay late after class. Usually under the guise of ‘checking in’ on how you were doing. Nonsense he made up just to psyche you out. Apparently his fragile male ego couldn’t handle a woman getting the same attention and respect he had been given when he was a student.

You were lucky that you had always been at the top of your class, otherwise your classmates would’ve thought something salacious was going on during those extra minutes of class with the well coveted professor. When the truth was you didn’t want anything to do with him.

That’s why you were shocked when Sungchan selected you to be his aide for your final semester of post-grad. Was tormenting you for six years not enough? He needed some bonus credits to finally push you over the edge? If it weren’t for the glowing recommendation and cv filler, you would’ve rejected the offer. But the opportunity of starting off your career with solid experience was too good to pass up. Even if that experience came with someone as infuriating as Professor Jung.

“Dammit!” You hissed, removing the metal staple lodged into the skin of your finger. How you managed to do that you weren’t certain. Though you suspected it had something to do with the relentless criticism from a certain professor, this time about the efficiency of your work. Stapling documents didn’t seem complicated enough to deserve that kind of critique.

“What happened?” You could hear his resounding voice question from his desk, causing your stomach to drop. He was looking up at you, pen hovering over the midterm paper he was correcting. Eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. “Did you staple yourself?” A knowing glint in his eye. You immediately attempted to brush the incident off, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Come here. Let me see,” Sungchan insisted.

After a brief frustrating exchange, you reluctantly made your way over to him. Holding out your now bleeding finger while you sat down in a chair next to him. He spun the desk chair around to face you. Gently reached for your hand, turning it side to side to observe the damage. He tsked in disapproval. “This is why I told you to staple the documents while organizing them. You were rushing, and look what happened.” The man pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, carefully dabbing at the blood.

You let out a sharp breath, refraining from strangling him or yourself. God, why did he pretend to be a gentleman only to act like such a pompous fool? In his stupid navy blue sweater and crisp white button-up underneath. His sleeves rolled up, revealing the prominent veins on his forearms and hands. Fingers adorned with a couple rings. None being on the finger that mattered which drove all the girls in his class crazy.

Crazy. That’s what they were. Who cares that he had a head covered in soft dark brown locks or kind eyes that could pierce through your soul or a pretty smile and a dignified nose? Who cares that he took the time to learn more about his students, to create strong bonds with them and other faculty members? Who cares about the delicate way he held your hand in his and smiled to himself when he caught you staring? You sure as hell didn’t.

“I wasn’t rushing, I was just distracted by all your ridiculous criticisms,” you spat out halfheartedly. Even you didn’t buy the usual bite in your tone. Truthfully speaking, you’d never been this close to him before. Your brain seemed to melt as it shared breathing air with the three audacious brain cells beneath his skull.

“Is that so?” He hummed, tilting his head. Eyes soft and knowing. “Well, I apologize for trying to help my mentee improve her work ethic.” His easy tone unnerved you. So casual the way it mocked your entire existence.

“Please,” you scoffed, jerking your hand out of his grip. The small punctures on your skin were still bleeding. Now stinging from the sudden movement. You grimaced while speaking. “As if you haven’t been ‘trying to help me’ since the day we met. All I’ve gotten from you is criticism and unwanted attention, and I don’t understand why. I’ve never done a single thing to you.”

A low chuckle left his lips, eyes lowering from your face to your injured finger. Carefully, he reached for it again. Gently pressing the fabric to the open wound. “I always knew you were brilliant,” you raised a questioning brow at his comment, now listening intently, “with so much untapped potential that this program wouldn’t know what to do with.” He couldn’t contain the smile that appeared on his face. “But you were stubborn and a bit clueless. You still are.”

You grumbled something about not being that stubborn and his lips pulled into a breathtaking grin. His hold on your hand getting lighter. Almost… affectionate. Something dark and unfortunate settled in your stomach. It made you feel both grounded and like you were floating in air. “See, stubborn. Whether you care to admit it or not, you are who you are today because people like me saw that potential in you and pushed you to try harder.”

A frown formed on your face. Eyes not leaving the dark wood of his desk. “Wow,” your tone sarcastic to its core, “how selfless of you to critique every action I make. To make me feel inadequate and less than based on your stupid fucking expectations. I’m sorry I’m not the absolute image of perfection you were hoping for—“

“Whoa, whoa, Y/N,” he shook his head as you trembled under his touch, reaching for your other hand. You were too caught up in your emotions to notice. Your frustration was evident. “I didn’t mean…” Sungchan cleared his throat. It was the first time you’d ever seen the professional lose his calm demeanor. His concerned eyes searched your face. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way. I just wanted you to stop holding yourself back, to realize you didn’t need anyone’s approval but your own.”

You went to yank your hands away but he stopped you. He wanted you to only worry about your own opinion by over sharing his? This was utter bullshit. “Why do you care so much about what happens to me? I’m not even your student anymore. So why? Cut the bs and just tell me the truth. Why?” You stared up at him with wide frantic eyes. It was time to squash whatever this problem was that you had. You were practically peers now. He didn’t need to keep this up.

Sungchan let out a quiet sigh. A half smile pulling at his lips. “I told you you were clueless,” he spoke softly. Before you had a chance to retaliate he let the handkerchief drop to the floor as he allowed his larger hands to envelop yours. Fingers gently caressing the back of your hand. Breath stuttering, you glanced up from your joined hands to the almost bashful expression on his face. Your mouth hung open in disbelief, you had to look away just to catch your breath. Suddenly everything made sense, yet you had too many questions in your head to know where to begin.

“You… but… what? How?” all you could manage was an incoherent stammer.

“I didn’t know what to make of it when I first realized either,” Sungchan admitted, kind eyes taking in your reaction. “It didn’t seem like a big deal to me at the time, a few years difference didn’t seem like much, but then I took over your class from Professor Kang. It got too complicated. I thought I would get over it — over you — but I didn’t.” He sat up straight, perhaps realizing all at once just how close he’d gotten to you. He created some distance. Hands slowly releasing your own. Subtly licking his lips, he held a more serious expression while he continued talking. “I don’t… expect anything from you. I knew from the day I met you that it was just a fantasy, nothing more. We can continue on like nothing happened.”

Had he really waited six years for you? Your heart churned at the thought of his quiet pining with no way to express his feelings other than grabbing your attention when he could. All those after class chats were real; excuses to talk to you, but real. It was almost pathetic how much you apparently occupied his mind, drove him mad because he couldn’t be at your side. Maybe he had also occupied too much of your own mind. After all, he did look handsome in that navy blue sweater, a white button-up underneath, with the sleeves rolled up.

You didn’t need to say anything. Tentatively interlocking your hands with his again and settling them on your lap was enough. A soft smile on your face, cheeks warm. It was clear you both were nervous. “Or we could talk about this over coffee later?” He questioned with a raised brow, pretty smile showing brightly.

An uncharacteristic giggle escaped you. “I’d like that,” you stated with a nod. Professor Jung; dangerously charming indeed.

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[wonbinisms]

coming up next on wonbinisms💫

[wonbinisms]

good to eat * l.at

series finale (eat)

second chance romance | college au | mild angst

Mornings after a night out drinking were always rough. This one was more than usual. Your head pounded and you had a heavy weight on your heart. Waking up wrapped in Sungchan’s arms, staring into his emotionally drained face — tear stains still visible, lips chapped —, you couldn’t escape the events of the previous night. For better or worse, they happened and no amount of sleep was going to make the repercussions of your decisions go away. All you could do was try to amend things. After everything, you felt certain of what you wanted.

You were boiling water in your dorm’s small kitchenette for two cups of ramen when you heard Sungchan stumble out of bed. A couple minutes later he was behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His head resting on top of yours. No teasing comments or playful gestures. Just cautious affection. Even when the food was ready, the two of you ate on your bed in silence. His eyes watched you attentively. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, slightly defeated. “You’re doing that thing where you shut down when you have something to say but you don’t want to say it. I know you,” he said in response to your inquisitive gaze. “It’s okay, you can tell me. I’m a grown ass man. I can handle it.”

Teeth gnawing on your bottom lip, you took a second to collect your thoughts. “I only knew Anton for a few months and he told me that he loved me.” Sungchan’s brow twitched at the mention of the other man. “We’ve been doing this for, what? Four? Five years? And you only tell me you love me when someone else comes into the picture.”

Sungchan shifted in his spot to face you more directly. “I must’ve said a lot of bullshit to you last night.” He squinted his eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s still a blurry mess for me. If I said it, then I said it. I should’ve told you earlier.” His stare became fond and apologetic. “Of course, I love you, Y/N. I’ve always cared about you. Just… maybe not in the way you wanted.” He lamented. Your fingers curled around the paper container, still hot. “I wanted to say it, but… I didn’t want things to change. If I treated this — us — as something real, that would just make it easier for me to fuck it all up. But I guess it’s too late now anyway.” Despite his regretful tone, he sniffled back his emotions and continued to eat his ramen as if everything was normal.

Perhaps at the surface this moment wasn’t that disimilar from those of the past few years. Hanging out in your bed, calm and easy. But at some point that easiness shifted into something that couldn’t sustain itself anymore. The truth was that you outgrew this relationship. At least, this version of it. It might have blindsided Sungchan, however, it shouldn’t have blindsided you. “Chan,” you rested a hand on his tense arm. “We’re going to graduate. Our lives are going to change, and that’s okay.” He let out a soft ‘I know’. “Someday you’re going to meet someone that will make all those doubts about the future disappear.”

“I always thought it would be you,” Sungchan confessed freely. Your heart twisting a bit in your chest. “Is that how Anton makes you feel? Not afraid?”

You pondered his question for a moment. Unsure of how you should answer. Unsure of what was the truth, until it settled in your mind. “For some time yes. I don’t know now. Everything is kind of fucked up. After last night, he probably doesn’t even want me anymore.”

“Hey,” your friend called for your attention. You peered over at him, face stone cold serious. “He’s a fucking loser if he doesn’t give you another chance.” You laughed because finally you were seeing the Sungchan you’d always known. Still a true and genuine friend until the bitter end. Still caring for you despite it all. Your eyes stung at the memories. His tense smile showing the same melancholy.

“We had some good times, didn’t we? I mean… it wasn’t just… this. We laughed a lot and did a lot of fun stuff and—“

“It was the best.” He cut in, stopping you from getting too emotional. The empty container of ramen fell onto your bed as you flung into his arms. His doing the same as he held you for what felt like the last time.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out.

“No, I am.”

•••

“Anton!” You shouted, racing down the sidewalk to get to his car. He hadn’t left yet, but he was about to. The door open wide as he settled his things inside the vehicle. At the sound of your voice, his head whipped in your direction. Eyes wide and the beginnings of a hopeful smile starting to grow. Your arms reached for him before the rest of your body. Pulling him into a warm embrace. Something that just felt right.

“You actually came,” Anton spoke in disbelief, hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel him physically relax under your touch. Suddenly an image popped into your head of him sitting at the same table you always sat at, working on a song while he kept anxiously glancing at the doors for you. He had waited long enough, and so had you. “What happened? I didn’t think you were coming.”

You pulled away, staring into his worried eyes. “I broke it off with Sungchan.” Anton couldn’t even hide it. The shock. The relief. The unbridled joy. Lips pulling into a grin. His hands cautiously held your face. Thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“I know I should be more sympathetic, but that might just be the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” he chuckled as if he couldn’t believe it. He finally had you to himself. No weird hook ups getting in the way. Anton could just kiss you until you both lost your breaths. He was so close to doing it when he noticed your hesitant expression. His warm brown eyes comforting in their presence, focused on you. “Are you okay? Did he take it badly? Did he…” he gulped, all the muscles in his body getting tight, “do something to you?”

You vehemently shook your head. “No, he was fine with it. He understood how I felt. It’s just…” you really didn’t want to say it. Not when he seemed so happy to be with you. Not when you were on the cusp of your new life together. You needed to be completely honest with him, otherwise this wouldn’t work. “He came to my dorm room last night, crying and a complete mess.” Anton listened intently. “I let him in and one thing lead to another.” His hands fell to his sides clenching into fists before pulling at his hair. He turned around to face the other direction. “I wish I could say it didn’t mean anything, but it did at the time.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N,” he cursed in a tense tone. Looking back at you for a second with a harsh incredulous half-glare. “First you say that you broke up with him and now you’re telling me that you slept with him last night?” Anton groaned into his hands. “Was it because I didn’t take you home with me?” His question hit you hard unexpectedly.

“Anton,” you shook your head lightly, “that had nothing to do with you. He told me he loved me.” The man scoffed at the idea. You ignored it. “I’ve had feelings for Sungchan for years now. All I ever wanted was to hear those words from him. And when I finally did… I don’t know. It wasn’t how I expected it to feel.” Slowly, you inched closer to Anton. His sideways glance watching your every move. “I still care about Sungchan — and maybe I always will — but the way I feel for you is completely different.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, held back the tears. “I’m in love with you.” He turned to face you directly, eyes peeking through his fingers. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

The flow of emotions — from a twisted sense of relief to filtered frustration and finally to a numb calmness — coursed through him in the span of a minute. He set his hands on the back of his neck, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky. Something between a frustrated groan and a pained moan leaving his lips. “I’m in love with you, too,” he confessed, dark brown eyes taking in your features. “I even still see a future with you, but,” you cringed in anticipation, “I don’t know if I can look past this.” Anton rested his arms on the roof of his car, forehead placed on top of them.

You were at a loss. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand where Anton was coming from. Of course, you did. If he had confessed his love to you right after admitting he had slept with another woman the night before, you also would be confused and hurt. “I don’t want you to look past it, I want us to try to work through it.” Your voice was soft and delicate. Almost fragile. You inched closer to his car. “Because when I’m with you, I feel like there’s nothing I can’t handle, nothing we can’t handle… together.” You leaned on the side of his car, staring at his profile. “I love you, Anton Lee. You’re good for me in a way I never knew I needed.”

His head turned to set his dark eyes on you, more neutral this time. As if he were taking you in for the first time again, making that split decision if you were someone worth getting to know, to let into his life. “I don’t know what else to say,” you whispered anxiously. Something wavered in his numb expression. A hint of the Anton from your long cafe trips, late night drives, and stolen moments mere feet away from whatever classroom was on your schedule. It was his hand that popped the metaphorical bubble separating the two of you, reaching for your hand. You found yourself being carefully tugged in his direction, and next thing you knew your face was pressed into his shoulder.

“What do we do now?” The words settled like a thick fog. Your voice, the light trying to pierce through.

“I don’t know.” No pretenses. Just genuine feeling. His hand pressed you further against his body. Almost ready to press you into his skin. “Maybe,” his soft voice began, light and airy, “we should start over. Clean slate.” You thought about it, wondering if it would be possible. You thought and you thought, still wrapped in his arms. Until thinking wasn’t enough. Until possibilities weren’t enough. They meant nothing without some action.

Carefully, you untangled yourself from Anton’s embrace. He stared down at you curiously, watching as you created a short distance between the two of you. Hands still interlocked. “Hi,” his brows squished together at your sudden greeting. “My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?”

He chuckled softly, that goofy little bashful grin on his countenance that you adored. “Anton. It’s nice to meet you.” His face inched closer to yours. “This may sound strange, but I feel like I’ve met you before.”

“I don’t think it’s strange at all,” you replied with a shake of your head, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. His breath fanning your skin, noses brushing in an electrifying touch. The two of you slightly jolting back at the sensation, only to lean into it a second later. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Anton lifted your hand with his own, allowing the precious silver chain around your wrist draw your attention. It occurred to him that he would need to buy a charm for this very moment. Maybe a car or an eye. “I do now.” Your eyes fluttered shut as he closed the gap between you, soft lips attaching to yours. The kiss was tentative at first, slowly growing more passionate over time.

You felt yourself being backed against the cold metal of his car. Large hands wrapped around your waist, pressing your body to his. The only times you pulled away were in sudden gasps for air. Next thing you knew, Anton was swinging the car door open and settling you into the back seat. Bodies expressing what words could not.

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taglist: @toroufriteh @m1korwia @xovisa @songwoohwa @softponyoo

[wonbinisms]

camera shy * p.wb & j.sc & l.at

90’s boy band au | freeuse!groupie!reader | smut (mdni)

“Don’t be shy, Baby,” Anton urged you in his soft voice. “Come closer.” He held the camcorder steady with one hand while reaching for your bare waist with the other. Your band t-shirt was long gone, now lost in the mess that was their hotel room. Not that you’d expect anything else from three young men. The youngest aimed the lens at your bra-covered breasts. Thumb rubbing over the hardening nub through the lacy fabric. You sighed lightly, head rolling back as your thighs pressed together. His fingers hooked on the garment’s hem and lifted it up, exposing every curve of your breasts. The camera focused on your pebbled nipples, reactive to his touch.

“God, she’s so fucking hot,” Sungchan breathed out, still lounging against one of the bed’s headboards. Cupping his growing erection with his hand. “Don’t forget to get her face. I want to see her reaction when she comes.” Anton made a comment to the older about being patient. They had agreed to take their time with you, and that’s exactly what they were doing. Your chest was already heaving when his lips attached themselves to the sensitive circle of dark skin. Gently sucking and rolling his tongue over it. You let out a loud uncontrollable moan. Your small hands gripping Anton’s broad shoulders.

“She sounds so pretty when she moans,” Wonbin whispered, watching everything with wide, hungry eyes from his spot on the couch. With no hesitation he took the camcorder out of the youngest’s hand. He leaned in, certain to capture the way the younger sucked on your breast and the contorted expression of pleasure on your face. You climbed onto Anton’s lap. All words leaving your brain as you ground your clothed core against his jean-clad thigh. “She wants to come so bad. Look at her, she can’t even speak.” Your moans ripped past your throat despite the way you were biting down on your bottom lip.

Sungchan took Wonbin’s hint when the younger gestured for him to take over as cameraman, slipping off the bed. Unconcerned about the prominent tent in his gray sweatpants. He knew he would get his turn soon enough. At the edge of the bed, he got a perfect view of Anton leaving hickies and love bites all across your chest, and Wonbin sliding you off the youngest’s lap, causing your back to arch. “Fuck,” Sungchan mumbled, feeling himself twitch at the way you allowed yourself to be manipulated into any position they wanted. The most perfect little whore for them. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself.

Wonbin pushed up the hem of your short skirt, revealing your ass in the smallest pair of lace panties. His steady hands pulled apart your thighs and cheeks, groaning at the noticeable dark patch and the glistening skin of your inner thighs. “Guys, she’s so wet right now.” He reached over to the oldest for the camcorder and made sure to get your drenched panties and fluttering hole on tape. He even took a swipe at the soiled fabric with his tongue. You scrambled forward into Anton’s embrace, a drawn-out whine escaping your parted lips. “Shh, I got you, Baby,” Wonbin said, handing the device back over to Sungchan, and soothingly ran his hands over the back of your thighs.

You squirmed under the hot possessive mouths of the two men. Anton firmly attaching his lips to your neck, leaving enough bruises to warrant a wellness check. Wonbin lapping up your essence. His knuckles brushing your salivating skin while pushing your panties aside. His arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you still as he ravaged your core. Fingers lowering to circle your clit. “Mm, my god. Anton-ah. ‘Nbin’!” You shouted their names through mouthfuls of saliva. Sungchan told you to scream louder and you did. The thought that there was other people in the rooms around you not even entering your brain. All you could think about was the growing tension in your abdomen and your impending release.

Sungchan tapped Wonbin’s shoulder. “Stretch her out a bit. She’ll never fit us if we don’t stretch her out first.” The oldest crouched down. With a shaky hand he zoomed the camera in on your dripping entrance, squelching around one of Wonbin’s blunt fingers, then another, and then another. “Taking it like a good girl,” Sungchan commented, giving your ass a solid smack. Wonbin quickly soothed the stinging red skin with his tongue. Never slowing down the pace of his fingers. Each thrust making you jerk forward with a whimper. Sungchan placed a large hand on your stomach, minimizing your movements. Your nails dug into Anton’s back. Legs shaking around Wonbin’s wrist.

Anton held your face in his hands. “You’re doing great for us, Baby.” His lips found yours in a sloppy kiss that you chased after he pulled away. “You can take a little more, right?” Voice barely above a whisper in your ear. Lips crashing into yours again. You nodded while moaning into the youngest’s mouth. “Good girl,” he pressed one last chaste kiss on your cheek before undoing the clasp of your bra. With gentle hands he removed the garment. Then mixed around the remnants of his spit over your nipples, adding to the pleasure you were receiving from Wonbin’s fingers.

“Okay, it’s time.” Sungchan declared suddenly. “She’s ready.” Just as you felt your release coming to its peak, the two other men untangled themselves from you. Wonbin shoved his slick covered fingers into your mouth before you could whine at the loss of friction. Still your complaints were loud and clear. The oldest lifted you onto your feet by a loose grip on your throat. A choked out sob escaped your lips as you were pressed — by his now free hand — against his bare chest. His skin hot. “Want to come?” Sungchan asked bluntly into your ear. You nodded, wide eyes taking in the two excited men in front of you: Wonbin licking the rest of your arousal off his fingers and Anton adjusting himself in his jeans while focusing the camera on your dazed expression, your head falling back onto Sungchan’s shoulder.

“Use your words, Baby. Or we stop right here,” the oldest warned. You managed a quiet ‘yes, I wanna come’. “Good.” He grabbed a hold of one of your hands, placing it over his painfully erect length. Even through the fabric of his sweatpants you could feel how heavy and hard he was. “Feel that? Feel how you make us, Baby?” For the first time since this whole little experience started, you could hear the desperation in Sungchan’s voice. “This can all be yours,” he ran your hand down the entirety of his length. Your mouth watering at just the thought of feeling it inside you. “Just be our good girl and we’ll fuck your gorgeous little brains out. Is that what you want? For your idols to fuck the living shit out of you?”

“Chan, maybe we shouldn’t be so—“

You cut off Anton’s objection with a firm: ‘yes.’ “I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget everything except how full I am of all of you.” Your whole body trembled in excitement. Heart racing, core throbbing.

The three men shared a look. Different variations of smirks and sly smiles gracing their faces. “That, Baby,” Wonbin removed the camcorder from Anton’s grasp, setting it down on the TV stand, lens facing the bed, “we can do.”

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[wonbinisms]

another “accident” * j.sc

friends to lovers | secret hook up | suggestive

dumbass: r u free rn?

dumbass: come over for a game of Twister

As if Jung Sungchan owned a Twister board.

“Am I big?” The questioned lingered in the tension-filled room like an overly fragrant cologne that a teenager would wear. Just two minutes earlier he had been painting your walls a thick layer of white, now he was asking stupid questions as if this were a normal hangout. God, you were obsessed with it, with him.

His warm brown eyes that swept over your figure like taking in a piece of art. Possessive lips. Familiar laughter. Broad shoulders, so easy to hold onto. Sexy eyebrow raises. Soothing voice talking you through every poor decision that led you here: in the bed of one of your good friends.

You were right, that photo didn’t do him justice. He was built like a Greek God with the stamina of a pro athlete.

“Sungchan…” you whined, sinking further into the bedsheets. He only chuckled at your flustered state. Arm folded behind his head while he leaned on the headboard. So casual and handsome. It made you want to strangle your heart just to get it to stop beating so fast. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m disassociating.”

“I’m being serious,” he spoke through a laugh, an exasperated smile on his countenance. “I want to know. Is my… you know,” the fact he couldn’t say it outright made you feel even more embarrassed. Hands covering your face, mumbling a quiet ‘oh my god’. “Is it, compared to the other guys you’ve been with, is it bigger? Or the same?”

You scoffed, twisting your head to peer up at him through your fingers. “How many guys do you think I’ve slept with?” Sungchan stared up at the ceiling for a moment, counting with his fingers. You shook his arm in playful frustration.

“Four,” he stated with certainty, explaining his reasoning before you even got a chance to ask. “That kid you lost your virginity to in high school, the one who couldn’t find your clit to save his life.” You rolled your eyes at the memory. “Jaemin.” Your ex from second year. “That dude at Seunghan’s party who was all over you. And then me. The best and biggest..?”

“One,” you said sternly, turning to face him directly, “don’t ever mention that godforsaken incident again. I told you that in confidence. Two, I didn’t hook up with Mingi. We just made out.” Your eyes narrowed while shifting uncomfortably. “Why does it matter if you’re ’big’ or whatever? Everything felt good to me.”

Sungchan rested his hand on his bare chest, drawing your attention to his toned muscles. Every line and ridge you wanted to trace your fingers across. Smooth warm skin you wanted to press your face to. “Because for me it was a tight fit, very tight.” His expression faltered for a moment into something utterly pleasurable. As if he were imagining that particular feeling. “And you teared up when I put it in.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, mumbling about how those weren’t exactly tears of pain. He smiled softly. Fingers running through your hair.

“Did it really feel good for you?” His voice was low, almost vulnerable. Eyes searching yours. No jokes, no playfulness. Just a genuine question.

You nodded. “I thought it was… perfect.”

At your confession, Sungchan laughed in disbelief. Suddenly, wrapping a hand around your upper back to pull you closer. Your eyes fluttered shut once he pressed his lips to yours. A sweet kiss in comparison to how he had been devouring you earlier. “Touch me.” He mumbled against your mouth, settling your hands on his torso. “I know you want to. You’ve been staring this whole time.”

You didn’t even mind being called out. Your hands wandered and explored every inch of his skin. Planting open mouthed kisses from his collarbone to the center of his chest. There you buried your face, breathing in his unique scent. A comforting sigh left your parted lips as he held you close.

He reached for his phone on the nightstand, bringing the camera to where you were lying on his chest. Tired eyes drooping closed. Only the quiet shutter sounds of the device startled you for a second. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you, gently rubbing your back. “I’m not going to send those to anyone. They’re for me.”

perm taglist: @rixieisfreaky @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

it’s going to be okay * o.st

established lovers | idol au | hurt/comfort | fluff

Shotaro had been awfully quiet since you came back from the hospital. You knew he was upset. He had been putting his all into these upcoming performances and RIIZE’s comeback, spending long hours in the practice room until he could execute the choreography perfectly. Now with his ankle injury everything had come to a halt. The doctor said he could continue his regular daily activities, but dancing —for now — was out of the question. And a Taro that can’t dance is an unhappy Taro. No one likes an unhappy Taro.

You sat next to him on his bed. Your boyfriend didn’t even look up from his doomscrolling. It was bad. “Taro,” you cooed, grabbing onto his arm. Your face burying into his neck leaving soft kisses. “Want to watch a movie and order take-out?” Shotaro quickly dismissed the idea with a shake of his head. “Hmm,” you tried to think of something else that would cheer him up. “What about… I make some of your favorites and we have a little picnic in the living room?” Still nothing but frustrated sighs. You pulled away to stare at his depressed expression, reaching for his hand. “Well, we need to do something to fix this,” you stated pointedly. “You’re the sunshine in this relationship. We can’t both be grumpy.”

Finally, his sad eyes turned to you. A small flicker of amusement passing through them. “I’m sorry, Baby. I was just really looking forward to these performances. We have a new setlist and everything.” Shotaro leaned his head against the wall, tossing his phone onto the covers. His fingers rubbed into the tense skin of his face. “And I was supposed to help choreograph one of the songs for the comeback. I thought it would be my chance to — you know — share my creative ideas with the company. That I’m more than just a main dancer.”

Oh, it was really bad. You’d never seen your boyfriend so defeated before. Usually he was all smiles and exuberant confidence. You wanted your happy Taro back. You called his name gently. “Everyone already knows how insanely talented you are,” your fingers brushed through his messy hair, “and handsome and smart and funny.” He sent you an appreciative half-smile. “Taro, you just need to rest for a bit. You’re going to be up and dancing before you know it.” His cheeks flushed as you gave him an affection peck on the tip of his nose.

“But what if don’t? What if I don’t heal properly and I just keep getting injured again and again?” You held his hand a little tighter, nodding your head to show that you understood where his feelings were coming from. You knew when you started dating a dancer that they need to dance to survive. It’s their lifeline. But, at the same time, you were in the room when the doctor said he would heal in a few weeks.

“Taro, it’s going to be okay,” you said in your most comforting tone. Arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in for a hug. “I know it seems like the end of the world right now and that everything feels so intense and disappointing, but it won’t last forever.” Shotaro leaned his head against your own, hands settling on your waist to bring you closer. “We’re going to take it easy for a couple weeks, let you build up your strength, and when you’re ready for the stage, I’ll be standing in the front row. Alright?”

“You’re the best, you know that?” He mumbled appreciatively. Head twisting in your direction. You pulled away to look into his eyes.

“I know,” you playfully replied. The two of you laughed one of those easy laughs you always shared. And there was Taro’s famous smile, right in front of you. Leaning in you gently captured his lips with your own. He immediately melted into the kiss, finger dancing along your spine. Your lips broke apart just to reconnect in a short series of small pecks. “There must be something that will make you feel better.”

Shotaro suddenly got the tiniest devious smirk you’d ever seen. A scoff left your mouth as you shoved his shoulder. Cheeks growing hot. “Wait. No,” he clarified with a slightly embarrassed smile. “I didn’t mean.. that.” Then he quickly added: “well, maybe later. I actually had something else in mind.”

And that is how you found yourself in the living room, dressed in work out clothes, all the furniture pushed aside, practically dying of sweat and exhaustion as Shotaro had you try out different dance moves for his choreography. “Baby, you’re going to have to learn how to keep up if you ever want to debut,” your boyfriend joked from the couch. As much as you wanted to be upset at him for making you do all this, you were just happy to see Taro get back to his happy self.

a/n: hope you get better soon🥺

perm taglist: @rixieisfreaky @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

“accident” * j.sc

friends to lovers | college au | suggestive

dumbass: shit

dumbass: forget you saw that

You had spent the whole weekend staring at that damn photo. Sungchan didn’t even bother to delete it from the chat. And every time you went to remove it, you’d hesitate. Fingers pausing for a second before zooming in on the picture with a mind of their own. Your eyes took in each detail as if you were playing a game of ‘spot the differences’.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know Sungchan worked out. The man practically lived at the gym. Of course he has muscles and a toned body. However, you didn’t suspect he was hiding all of that underneath his loose t-shirts and sweatshirts. Mostly, you were shocked because you didn’t think he was the kind of guy that would send shirtless pics so casually.

For the couple years you had been friends, Sungchan hardly ever talked about dating or any romantic interests beyond a handful of conversations about ideal types and relationship advice. Even in the few times you had seen him “flirt” with a girl, he kept with his typical chill demeanor. Not too forward, almost coy.

The dude giggles, looks like a baby deer that’s unable to walk properly more often than not, and blushes like a teenage girl getting kissed for the first time whenever someone gives him a genuine compliment. Needless to say, Sungchan was very low on your list of guys with fuckboy tendencies.

“Hey,” his steady voice greeted you lightly. He set his bag on the floor while sitting down next to you. As if he hadn’t completely changed your entire perception of him with a simple misclick. The large lecture hall was practically empty, but with his sudden presence it felt overwhelmingly stuffy and hot.

You kept scribbling down the few notes you needed to make before he arrived. Unable to make eye contact with him. Your eyes always revealed your thoughts. “So… are we not going to talk about… what happened?” You kept your tone level, almost disinterested. The direct question didn’t seem to faze Sungchan.

“Been thinking about it all weekend, haven’t you?” He asked cheekily, raising a brow in your direction while searching his bag for a pen. “Okay, bring it on. Let out all your comments and questions now before I change my mind.”

You scoffed incredulously. Dude sends one shirtless picture and suddenly he thinks he some Casanova. “Well, where do you want to start? With the fact that you edited the photo to be black and white yourself or that you like to send unsolicited pics to girls like a creep?” You tapped your pencil on the wooden surface, legs crossed with your foot hitting the leg of the table anxiously. It was a bit of a relief to finally let all of this out. “The photo isn’t even that good anyway. It’s too far away to see anything.”

“If you wanted another one, you could’ve just asked.” You sent him a pointed glare. Cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Alright, alright,” Sungchan raised his hands in surrender. Lost pen now in his grasp along with his almost used up notebook. “Look, it was an accident. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Who were you even trying to send that to?” The curiosity was eating at you. Did Sungchan have some secret girlfriend that none of you knew about? Or maybe they were just hooking up? Your friend was no help at all. Only sending you a sly smirk as if to say ‘wouldn’t you like to know.’ You didn’t have time for this. The professor had just walked into the classroom. “Well, I hope your sneaky link liked the photo.” You stated dismissively.

“Oh, she did.” Even as your attention was elsewhere, Sungchan’s eyes remained on you. Eyeing the unnerved and flustered way you moved about. Perfect.

perm taglist: @rixieisfreaky @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

I wasn’t sure at first if I should speak on this topic because I’m not part of the affected groups and I didn’t want to talk over the voices of the people who matter most in this situation. But seeing as a large majority of my content is RIIZE related, I feel I should at least give this relatively brief message.

As a long-time Kpop fan, I’m disappointed yet not surprised that this incident occurred. Unfortunately, these kinds of “scandals” (microagressions) happen all the time and it has been this way since I became a fan of the genre.

I 100% do not agree with Eunseok’s word choice and condemn his actions fully. Although, I don’t believe that me or any group of writers on this platform who are going to stop writing about him will change anything or make much of an impact, it is the action I’ve chosen to commit to for the time being in order to show solidarity with my fellow BRIIZE.

I can only hope that Eunseok will learn from this and use his good experiences with the affected communities to realize how his words hurt others as well as acknowledge the faults in his way of thinking. I truly believe that no one is born racist. It is a learned behavior. And if it can be learned, it can be unlearned even if the journey to realization and undoing everything that you’ve been taught in a familial or cultural context is extremely difficult. It can be done.

For those stepping away from the fandom, I completely understand and hope that you can find another comfort interest. I will continue to write for the other 5 members, and will be here if/when you choose to return.

Sending my love and support to my fellow BRIIZE🥺🫶

[wonbinisms]

brandy confessions * j.sc

part six of the young & beautiful series

old money au | legal age gap | fluff

The days went on as usual. Neither one of you spoke about what occurred on the night of the party, but you could acknowledge that something had changed. The man nodded his head and greeted you when you crossed paths. Eyes bright with the hint of a smile. Your greenhouse rendezvous lasted longer. Only half the time was dedicated to reading, the other to light conversation and peaceful silence.

Spring came and went with that peaceful silence. The arrival of Summer brought with it an overwhelming heat wave. On many of those long days you found yourself in the stable with Shotaro and the other grooms and stable hands, pressing cold wet sponges over the coats of the horses. Shotaro would tell you everything he knew about handling and taking care of the beautiful animals. They were all amazing creatures, but Shadow had quickly become your favorite. He was calm and well behaved. He held a steady presence, similar to his owner.

Once the sun set though, there was a quiet buzz among the residents of Jung manor. Life was not easy but it was still punctuated by moments of solace. Light chats in the kitchen with Mrs. Ryu, the soft humming of Sohee in the parlor after a long trip to the port, and watching the fireflies that swarmed the creek with Shotaro. These moments made your existence at the manor content and pleasant. Especially when you had been seeing the young master less and less. Slowly finding himself once again locked away in his study.

It didn’t seem fair that he would disappear just as you felt that you were building a positive rapport with the young master. However, seeing as that title denotes an air of responsibility, it made sense for him to be rather busy. You could not deny that you had begun to miss his placid demeanor. His assuring voice. The tentative bliss he displayed when around you. All vanished in what seemed like the blink of the eye.

It wasn’t until one fortunate night that you were met with him again. Mrs. Ryu was caught up with the washing up, she didn’t have the time to bring the young master his tea. So, she tasked you to do it instead. You were more than careful carrying the tray of fine china. Aware of your clumsy tendencies, you didn’t want to risk any irreversible damage. The young master’s study was on the second floor, opposite to his bedroom. With a large wooden desk, shelves upon shelves of books that could replenish a university library, and a grand windowsill overlooking the front steps and garden of the manor.

Mr. Lee, the butler of the manor, held the door open for you, earning him a pleasant smile and meek ‘thank you’. “Young master Jung, Sir,” you called softly. This was your first time properly attending him and you did not wish to make a fool of yourself. “I’ve come with your nightly tea.” There was a long pause followed by a muffled ‘come in’. The first thing to catch your attention upon walking further inside was that he wasn’t at his desk, the large chair noticeably vacant. It was the movement of his pale hand running through his dark locks that signaled to you where he was.

He was sat on the floor behind his desk, back against the windowsill. Still clad in the same dress shirt and slacks you had seen him wearing earlier. Only now they were slightly wrinkled, tie undone, sleeves rolled up. Next to him was an open bottle of brandy and a crystal drinking glass, half full. “Sir?” Your tentative steps reached the solid oak desk. Papers covered in numbers and ink blots scattered across the old wood, some crumbled up. The man hummed, briefly glancing up at you. It was then that you could see the sorrow in his eyes, small tear streaks following the curve of his cheek.

“Young master Jung,” you gasped, quick to set the tray down and round the desk to get closer to him. “Are you alright?“ Squatting down next to his lethargic figure, it was easier to see just how far gone he was. You wondered how much of the bottle he had drank before you arrived. For a moment you had the strong urge to hold his face in your hands but you fought against it as soon as the thought appeared. “I will go fetch Mrs. Ryu,” you declared, standing back up. A tug at your skirt caused you to pause, halting in your spot.

“Don’t go,” his hoarse voice stated firmly. Firmer than even he had expected. Your eyes darted from his desperate stare to his invasive hand gripping your skirts, knuckles grazing your knee. You could feel your cheeks grow hot under the scandal of it all. Alone with an inebriated man who was reaching for your legs. The thought of someone walking in at that very moment mortified you. It dawned on the young master how his actions could be misinterpreted when he saw the stunned, anxious expression on your face. He removed his hand immediately, settling it back on his lap along with his discontented gaze.

“My deepest apologies, Ms. L/N. I did not mean to…” he trailed off into a quiet mumble. The young master swallowed the rest of his sentence with a slow sip from his drinking glass. “I would prefer it if we keep this between us, for the time being. I would hate to alarm anyone else.” You nodded along. The tension easing out of your body as he glanced up at you sincerely, a little bit of that tentative bliss peeking through the sorrow. “You are welcome to stay for a bit if you’d like. That is to say, I would appreciate it if you stayed. If I were to be completely honest with you, Ms. L/N, I find your presence rather calming.”

The compliment washed over you like a warm summer rain. However, you were wearing your Sunday best, the kind that would get ruined by the mud. “That’s awfully kind of you, Sir,” you bowed your head. Careful not to make too much eye contact. “I suppose I could stay for a bit. I must finish my chores before I head off to bed.” You scolded yourself for being so awkward, sitting on the windowsill’s edge instead of the floor, mentioning work that he was already well aware of. The young master had said it himself: you were meant to be a calming presence in his life. It was the very least you could do after everything he had done for you and the other people of the manor.

You accepted the small glass of brandy he offered to you with a grateful, though hesitant, smile. Taking the tiniest sip of the liquid, you ignored the slight burn. Instead becoming fascinated with the lines on each wooden plank that made up the floor. “The manor’s in trouble,” he confessed bluntly. Your wide eyes glancing over at him in alarm. “Our financial situation is not the most ideal. The market’s failings have finally reached us, and I’m unsure if we will be able to remain afloat.” You tried to make sense of his words, but it was as if he were speaking a foreign language. He could tell that the world of finance was completely unknown to you. He took sympathy. “Our money is running out. If something isn’t done soon, in a few years time all of this,” he gestured towards the whole room with his drinking glass, “will belong to someone else.”

The calm resolve you once held evaporated in an instant. A soft gasp leaving past your lips. “Oh, but it mustn’t!” You fretted, hands shaking around your glass. “The manor is your birthright. It belongs to the Jung family. You are the eldest male in the Jung family. This manor is yours.” The young master huffed in amusement, watching you get worked up on his behalf. Your cheeks flushed, lips quivering in a pout, and your bosom heaving with each breath you took. His dark eyes darted back up to your own. The pace of his heart quickened as a few alcohol-induced thoughts swirled around his mind and settled in the center of his chest. Unmentionable and blasphemous.

You couldn’t tell if it was his lingering stare or the alcoholic beverage burning you up. It left you to wonder if the day’s heat had returned in that very moment. An appreciative half-smile mixed with an underlying tension that had been building for a while. Months by that point. He was still the young master but something was different about him now. He was more tangible, more fragile. Disrupting your prior notion of him being this grand autocratic figurehead of the household. Though you found yourself intrigued by this revelation, this new version of him, turning away to hide any physical expression of your thoughts.

Your voice was small but clear. Not wanting to take too much space, just enough to make its presence known. “I mean to say, Sir, that I believe you are capable of anything beyond the imagination. If there is a way to solve this problem, you will figure it out. Of that I am certain.” Afraid that you had crossed a line, had gotten too candid and emotionally driven, you didn’t dare to witness his reaction. Eyes taking in the almost full moon outside the window when you felt a sudden weight on your lap. Solid, as if an object had been set on it.

Instinctively, you glanced down. “Young master Jung,” you spoke half in a whisper, half in a startled gasp. His head rested gently just above your knee like a small child finding comfort at the feet of his mother. You weren’t able to see his countenance as it was facing the opposite direction. But the slouch in his broad shoulders, soft hair blending into the skirt of your dress, the back of his neck flushed with red from the alcohol, captured your attention. Your hand hovered over his head full of hair first, fingertips tingling to run through the thick locks. Instead they pressed carefully against the tense muscles of his shoulder blades. Smoothing down the cotton fabric of his shirt.

It wasn’t long before you started to hear his quiet snores fill the empty soundscape. Setting the drinking glass down, you carefully slipped out from underneath him. Once you were certain he wasn’t going to immediately fall over, you rushed to the door, calling for Mr. Lee. The older man shook the young master awake. “Sir, we better get you to bed,” he spoke calmly, only receiving a simple nod in response. You watched as Mr. Lee helped the man to his feet.

The young master glanced over at you with hooded eyes. Tired, frustrated, sad, and drunk. Still his lips pulled into a small smile. His hand reached for your sleeve as they walked past. “Ms. L/N,” he mumbled appreciatively. With that the two men walked into the younger’s bedroom, the door shutting behind them. A shaky hand settled over your heart, leaning against the wall, taking a deep breath. Hand still tingling, head spinning from being too close. You prayed to never see the young master like that ever again.

perm taglist: @rixieisfreaky @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

taglist: @miraeluv @yutafrita

[wonbinisms]

fish * p.wb

marriage au | dad!wonbin | fluff

An amused chuckle left your lips as you heard Wonbin’s body tumble to the floor once again. “Appa, Appa, I got you!” Your smile widened hearing Bubu, your son. The joy as evident as the slight slurring caused by his three-year-old vocal cords. You were grateful that your husband decided to occupy the precious baby while you were cooking, otherwise you would‘ve had a koala bear hanging onto your leg as you cut vegetables.

However, you knew because of his hectic work schedule, Wonbin loved spending time with Bubu any chance he could. He would never let his career get in the way of doing his fair share of the parenting. Diaper changing became melody testing. Baths became ultimate rubber duck races. And bed time became audible journal entries, telling Bubu about anything and everything that was on his mind until the little one fell asleep. If anything, he saw being Bubu’s playmate as a privilege, not a burden. Even when it got him into crazy situations.

Walking into the living room you were blessed with a hilariously gorgeous scene. Your son sitting on the couch, curtain rod in hand with a long string taped to the end. Wonbin was kneeling on the ground — the other end of the string in his mouth — occasionally jumping up when Bubu ‘reeled’ him in, flopping around like a fish. His face turned a bright pink once he noticed you were watching, but still resigned to his scale-y ‘fresh-catch-of-the-day’ fate. Allowing your son to pull him up and wrap his tiny arms around your husband’s neck. “You caught me!” Deep voice embarrassed yet content.

“Eomma! Look! I caught Appa. I caught him!” Your son beamed at you, finally noticing your presence. Wonbin’s sheepish smile grew tenfold after watching the fond expression bloom on your face. It was moments like these that made you feel certain you had found your person. Nobody is perfect, but Wonbin was perfect for you. There was no one you’d have rather started a family with than him. Someone who sacrifices his last bit of energy for the day (and dignity) on making his son happy.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Bubu, you’re not going to eat Appa, are you?” Your son giggled profusely.

“No!” The boy smiled brightly. “I put Appa back.” Then with his small hands, Bubu gently pushed at Wonbin’s shoulders. Your husband stumbling a bit forward on his knees, holding himself up by his palms, pressing down on the plush carpet. “Again! Again!” Clearly not wanting to continue playing the game, Wonbin stared up at you in a pleading manner. “Eomma, play fisherman with us.” Though the word came out more like ‘fishamin’.

“Okay,” you agreed, walking the last few steps over to where they were. “I’ll be the coral reef where the fish hides and sleeps.” Your husband didn’t hesitate, just crawled quickly to your crouching figure, burying his face into your neck like a scared child. Meanwhile, your actual child ran off, saying something about getting his goggles to ‘go swimming’. The second the precious baby left, Wonbin relaxed. Eyes showcasing just how long his day was. Body clearly fatigued. You brushed your fingers through his hair and he let out a quiet sigh.

“You would think that after all these years I would upgrade from the part of ‘the fish’.” He mumbled, adjusting you so that you were properly sitting on the floor, tucked into his side. An arm slung over your shoulder. “First my brother, now my son. Will the humiliation ever end?”

You chuckled lightly, beyond used to your husband’s occasional dramatics. Fingers picking at the buttons of his flannel before affectionately rubbing his thigh. “I know, but he’s so happy to play with you. He misses you a lot when you’re gone. I can’t keep up with him like you do.” A small pout forming on your face.

“Hey,” Wonbin said softly, reaching for your hand. “Bubu talks about you all the time. We both do our best to be there for him.” You appreciated his comforting words. It felt so reassuring to have someone who always lifted you out of your pools of self-doubt. The two of you had found ways to do that for each other. “Besides,” your husband spoke in a cheeky tone, a knowing smile on his face, “we wouldn’t have to run around so much if Bubu had a younger sibling to play with.”

It wasn’t that you hadn’t seriously considered expanding your little family. Even before you got married, you and Wonbin agreed on wanting at least two kids. Three if your financial situation was stable. But after Bubu was born your lives were turned upside down. The idea of trying for another didn’t come up until one intimate night after too much wine. Since then the topic has been treated like an errand you keep putting off.

“Are you sure you’re prepared for a fisherman and a shark?” Wonbin’s smile turned into a slight grimace. The thought of two energetic troublemakers instead of one running through his brain.

“I was hoping for a singing mermaid or a starfish,” he confessed. “But I think we can handle a little shark.” Then your husband carefully added: “as long as they don’t actually bite.” You chuckled along with Wonbin, really taking in how good of a father he was to Bubu. How hard he worked to give his family a good life. How you had always managed to push aside your differences, come to a compromise at every crossroad. Perhaps you had been ready for this next chapter longer than either of you had realized.

“Okay,” you stated confidently. Wonbin only hummed in response. Unsure about what you were ‘okay’ing. “Let’s do it.” The shift in his demeanor was electric: instant and intense. Eyes wide in excitement.

“You mean— really? Are you serious?” His grin was the brightest you had seen since the moment when the shock of seeing those two little lines appear on that test three years ago had worn off. The realization that all your future plans were coming into fruition.

Despite your husband’s uncontrollable enthusiasm you stayed calm and content, messing with the wedding band on his finger. “Yeah. I mean we’ve settled into the new house. We have plenty of space. And Bubu’s turning four in a couple months, soon he’ll be starting school, and we said we didn’t want our children to have such a large age gap.” You couldn’t fight the large smile. The feeling of this being a momentous occasion getting to you. “We should do it.”

Wonbin leaned in and kissed you. The same way he had kissed you during your first moment alone after your wedding ceremony. Deep, passionate, and full of love and adoration.

You were both caught by surprise when Bubu jumped into your warm embrace. He often felt left out whenever you and Wonbin got too affectionate with each other in front of him. Neither of you minded as your small family of three fell to the carpet. You and your husband sharing a look of exhilaration over your son’s head, holding him between you both. Soaking in these last moments before becoming a family of four.

perm taglist: @rixieisfreaky @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

autograph * p.wb

rockstar au | power imbalance | smut (mdni)

“Pretty,” Wonbin hummed in salacious awe, jaw slack, head thrown back on the sofa. His fingers curled around the back of your neck, thumb caressing your cheek as you tasted his hot salty skin. The rockstar saw you as nothing less than perfect. Submissive and eager. You’d let him whisk you away to his dressing room, ushering everyone else out. Let him pour you a drink, stroke your bare thighs, and explore every crevice of your mouth with his tongue. He didn’t even need to tell you to get on your knees, you did that on your own, yanking his jeans down with his boxers. Hands quick to wrap around his length, lips following shortly after.

It was something out of a fantasy. A feral comment you left online about fucking your idol. All the different ways you’d let him take you. All the things you wanted to do to him. Now you were living it. Your chest sticky from coconut rum and whipped cream, nipples painfully swollen and fresh bruises littering the soft skin of your breasts. Red handprints on your thighs and ass, hardly covered by your tiny panties. The thin fabric practically ruined by your overflowing arousal and how hard you had been grinding on his rough jeans. You wanted him to leave a lasting impression on you and your body. You wanted to walk away a changed woman.

“Just like that, Baby,” he groaned. Your lips finally stretched around his girth, after kissing and giving small licks from his base to his tip. The way you rubbed your face against him — almost affectionate in your blatant, insatiable desire — made him throb uncontrollably. Veins prominent and thick. An inexplicable fondness directing his gaze and touch. Wonbin combed his fingers through your hair, collecting the strands to move them away your face and where the drool started to drip down your chin. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” You hummed around him, causing his length to twitch in your mouth.

Wonbin did taste good, musky and masculine. Your nails dug into his hips, cheeks hollowing out to fit more of him inside. A part of you was glad that you had drank all that alcohol before, otherwise you would have been too anxious, thinking about the other women he had been with. How many had been in this exact same position for him? Were they better at this than you? You wanted to be the best, be his favorite. But your drunk mind didn’t allow you to overthink. Just focus on his praises and the firm grip he had on your hair. “Fuck, Baby. You were made for this.” His words went straight to your dripping core, clenching around nothing. You bobbed your head, swirled your tongue, needing more of his praise.

He became impatient once your moans turned into quiet gags and whimpers, pushing your head forward so that his length went farther down your throat. “So fucking tight for me.” His eyes peeled open for a moment, taking in your erotic position. Kneeled in front of him, tears streaming from your fluttering eyes, pink lips glistening with drool and precome that flowed down your chin, the column of your throat, and onto your bouncing breasts. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips up to match your pace. So close to his release just by looking at you. “Be a good girl for me, Baby.” The stretch burned the back of your throat, but you obediently held still, mouth wide, tongue flat, as he chased his high.

His actions stuttered for a second, your nose pressed to his lower abdomen. You anticipated his delicious release painting your throat white, but it didn’t come. He let out a shaky breath then quickly pulled out of your mouth. Hand jerking himself tightly while the hot substance landed on your chest. Face twisted up in pleasure, Wonbin let out a long loud groan. You accepted his messy offering, relishing in the warm sensation. When you felt he was almost done, you snuck your lips around his red tip and suckled the last bit of the salty release. A breathy chuckle escaped him, amused by the innocent gleam in your eye as you seductively cleaned him up with tiny swipes of your tongue. “My favorite fangirl,” he sighed, caressing your cheek.

You watched as he removed his shirt. Sweat covered abs and chest now full on display. He bunched up the material, going to wipe up the sticky mess on your skin but you vehemently shook your head. “Don’t. It’s like my own personal version of your autograph.” Wonbin’s grin was wry. Eyebrows raising in intrigue. He could just cover you in whipped cream and call you his sweetest, consume you for the rest of his days. His index finger settled above your breasts, writing his famous signature in the viscous mixture. You excitedly parted your lips when he demanded for you to ‘open up’ for him. He seemed pleased by the way you sucked his finger clean.

Wonbin pulled you onto his lap, mouth crashing onto yours in an instant. Commanding. “How about another autograph, Baby?” He whispered with a crude smirk. Length already pressing against your clothed core. “Let’s make this one permanent, so I have another reason to come back.”

perm taglist: @rixieisfreaky @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

motel * s.es

established lovers | psycho au | smut (mdni)

You used the emery board to meticulously file your nails. A distraction to keep you from biting them out of anxiety. Nights were too boring without him, without your Seok-ie. But he was out taking care of something for you, so all you could do was wait, stare at the water-stained ceiling, lay on the faded over-washed floral comforter, and watch old reruns of a 90s tv show on a box television set that came from the same decade. Though you couldn’t hear much of the dialogue over the thunderstorm raging outside the motel room.

Finally, after what felt like twelve hours, a simple round of three knocks sounded on the old wooden door. You hopped off the bed in excitement, tossing the nail file to the floor as you padded over to the entryway in your white thigh-high socks. Despite wanting to immediately yank on the handle, you looked through the peep hole first just like Eunseok had told you. Of course, it was him. “Seok-ie!” You exclaimed softly once you saw him standing in front of you, pulling the door wide open. Not caring that the downpour and wind gusts were hitting your scantily clad figure.

“Doll, get inside. It’s too cold,” he ushered you back into the room. His black leather jacket was drenched along with his jeans, only a little bit of blood still visible on his hands and the side of his neck. He had that same stoic expression, but this time his lips were slightly upturned while drinking you in with his eyes. “It’s over now,” Eunseok whispered into your hair, holding you as you buried your face into his chest. “He’s never going to bother us again.” You pulled away, beaming up at him. His hands gently held your face. Cold lips pressing against yours firmly, commanding you to give yourself to him with their movements. “I’m going to wash up.”

He sat you next to the sink, giving you one last lingering peck before removing his clothes and stepping into the shower. The sound of running water blended in with the rain from outside. Thunder rumbling in the distance. The small space started to get humid with the mirrors fogging up from the steam. Your legs swung as you waited. Bored once again until you noticed the gap between the wall and the raggedy shower curtain where you could watch the final remnants of blood wash off of Eunseok’s lean body. Gaze trailing down his torso, a shaky breath leaving your parted lips once it fell onto his semi-erect length. Your thighs squeezing together. The cool toned light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered off for a moment and when it came back on, his domineering eyes were staring at you.

His slender fingers went from rinsing out his black locks to tracing the lines of his chest and abdomen. You blinked slowly, leaning farther back against the mirror. Slowly, you undid the two buttons that were holding your soft sweater together. The fabric slipping to your sides, revealing the supple skin of your breasts. A quiet groan from inside the shower reverberated across the tiled walls. His hand was wrapped around his erection, giving it short teasing tugs. Watching as you dragged your freshly filed nails along your collarbone down the curve of your breasts and delicately pinch at the pebbled mounds. Light sighs and moans leaving your lips.

Eunseok leaned an arm on the wall in front of him, hips jerking forward with each twist of his wrist. Water cascading down his back. You stared at his digits, silently wishing they were the ones caressing your sensitive skin, pulling at the hem of your pink lace panties, and collecting the arousal that pooled in your heat. He grunted at the sight of your glistening core on display for him. Your legs spread so beautifully. Breasts asking to be abused by his mouth. He bit down on his lip to relieve some of the tension that had built up inside him. Fingers pressed on the wall curling as he zeroed in on your small throat, vibrating from each of your little sounds of pleasure.

He could control it until you shoved two fingers inside your core, slipping in with a loud squelch followed by a desperate whine of his name. The silence being ripped open. His soaked form was looming over you before you could notice the water had been shut off. No words left his mouth as he easily tossed you over his shoulder, fingertips prodding your entrance while he walked with you to the bed. A careless toss sending you to the squeaky mattress. You stared up at him in anticipation. His hungry eyes staring down at you like a predator stalking its prey. Water droplets falling from his smooth skin onto the carpet and comforter.

With a painstaking patience, Eunseok leaned over to grab your hand. The same one you had been touching yourself with. He brought the slick-covered fingers to his lips, introducing them to the warm wet cavern that was his mouth. All the while never losing the intense eye contact. He groaned at the taste. The vibration passing to you from his tongue, swirling around and lapping up every drop of arousal. And when he pulled your fingers out, a solid ‘pop’ sound came from his lips. It was only a second after that he forcefully pushed the same fingers into your own mouth. You sucked on your digits passively, a mix of his saliva and your essence invigorating your taste buds.

He was worshipping with his touch as he removed your limited clothing. First the socks, then your soiled panties. Knuckles brushing the plush skin of your bare thighs. The articles were thrown to the floor thoughtlessly. His breaths got heavier, close to panting. Eyes wavering with a slightly crazed gleam in them. Observing the way you moaned around your fingers when his trembling hands squeezed and roughly kneaded your breasts. His length appeared painfully hard pressed against his abdomen. You reached down, carefully wrapping your small hand around it, giving it the tiniest of tugs. Eunseok grunted loudly, quick to grip your wrist and pin it to the pillow next to your head.

One arm lifted you up from the back of your waist. Your neglected core lining up with his length. He rubbed his leaking tip against your folds, pushing it inside with a harsh thrust when it caught your entrance. The sound of rain and thunder faded into the background. Skin slapping skin, the creaking bed, the headboard slamming into the wall, his aggressive grunts, and your faint pleas of his name taking their place. “Seok-ie,” your voice strangled sounding as he pressed you into the mattress by your throat. Burying his length to the hilt with each sharp thrust. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his bicep.

“My doll,” Eunseok stated between gritted teeth. “Mine. Tight little body all mine.” You loved it when he lost control: with you, for you, because of you. When he gave into his most primal instincts. The first time he ravaged your ‘tight little body’ was the night he snuck into your room after beating that catcaller to a pulp just hours earlier. You barely knew him back then and he was already calling you his. Already saying that he would light the whole world on fire for you. And that no one else could have you but him. Even saying that he would kill the both of you before seeing you with someone else. You found it all insanely romantic.

Your body was shaking in pleasure, desperate to release, when a loud knock came from the door. “This is the police! Open up!” Eunseok let out a long string of expletives, leaning over to get something out of the drawer. The knife was gripped tightly in his hand as he drilled his length into you harder. Anger and frustration being taken out on your cervix. Though he seemed to be soothed by your velvet touch on his back to his shoulders, and finally his hair. Tense muscles relaxing. His pace relenting just the slightest.

“Seok-ie,” you said in a pout. Eyes fluttering in that seductive manner that got him to stand down each time. “You promised there wouldn’t be any more unnecessary deaths.”

“I won’t let them take you away from me.” Dark eyes piercing through yours. Tears gathering, lips trembling. He placed the knife under your chin. You didn’t flinch. “If I can’t have you, no one can.” Barely a whisper., but still certain and daunting.

Your fingertips traced down his arm to his wrist. “No one else will have me, Seok-ie. I’m yours. Always.” You eased his face down to yours, kissing him deeply. His body and mind giving in to your earnest desire. Knife slipping away from your throat, quiet moans passing between your entwined tongues. “Now put the knife away,” you whispered into his ear. He threw the object underneath the nightstand. All his focus on you as he created a more steady pace with his thrusts. Arms holding you close, lips adoring your face and neck. The door busted open to this intimate scene: two lovers caught up in their torrid love affair. Ready to take on anything that came their way.

perm taglist: @secretvipersorcerer @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

i like the pain * o.st

office au | power imbalance | smut (mdni)

“Do it again,” your assistant Shotaro pleaded, lively dark eyes staring down at you with an unapologetic fervor. Meanwhile, your gaze was locked on your hand. The skin of your palm still tingling. Despite his already red cheek, he leaned in again. This time he directed his lips onto yours, movements slow but steady. For a moment, your eyes shut closed and you relished in the tender sensation. But it quickly disappeared as you remembered where you were and who he was. The HR nightmare flashing across your mind.

You shoved him away harshly by his shoulders. “What the fuck, Shotaro?” You exclaimed in a whisper yell, all too aware of your office door being wide open. Of all the ways to calm you down from an intense meeting, he elected to risk a sexual harassment scandal. His large hands grazed your hips, cautious in spite of their risky endeavors. Your reaction was involuntary. The slap sounding louder to your ears than it actually was. Shotaro bit his bottom lip, gulping at your angered eyes as they tried to make sense of the situation. Finally landing on the prominent tightness behind the seam of his dress slacks. “Shotaro?”

The man fell to his knees, fingers caressing your sides while he begged. Eyes wide and desperate. “Please, Ms. L/N, I need more. Take your anger out on me. I can take it. I like the pain.” You were stunned to say the least. Who knew your mild-mannered, diligent assistant was such a masochist? One of his hands reached for yours, placing it on top of his head. “Hit me, pull on my hair, step on me, kick me. Whatever you need to do. I want you to.” A gasp escaped your lips when his stiff erection brushed your leg, his face pressed into your heat. As if he could see right through your pencil skirt. Nose brushing your conflicted bundle of nerves.

Unconsciously, your fingers gripped his hair, yanking his head back. He let out a soft breathy moan. The both of you took sharp breaths, acknowledging the absurdity of the circumstances. However, it became evidently clear that this was something you both wanted. Maybe even needed. You had been too kind to your assistant anyway. You pulled at the fistful of his hair, forcing him to look directly into your serious eyes. “Get up and lock the door.” He nodded scrambling to his feet so he could complete the task. After, he hesitated at the door, waiting for your next instructions. “Come here.”

The tension in the air was thick, charged. Even without touching him, you knew you had Shotaro in the palm of your hand. You reached for his tie, giving it a sharp tug. His eyes fluttered shut. “Kiss me like you mean it,” you commanded, letting your lips brush his. The kiss was firm and rather grounding. His hands delicately pressed to your lower back. Growing frustrated that he was being too tentative for your liking, you shoved your tongue past his lips and teeth, deepening the kiss. “Harder. Don’t be gentle.” He hummed against your mouth. Hands getting friskier.

Shotaro’s tongue swirled around yours, lips becoming more demanding. And when that wasn’t enough, he crouched down, pushed up the hem of your skirt to reach your mid-thigh, and lifted you into his arms. Your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Nails digging into the back of his head and shoulders. You were panting, gasping for air. He made space on your desk, setting you on the wooden surface. All your frustrations came out in the kiss. Forceful and domineering. Biting on his lip so hard you could draw blood. Until your anger was replaced by something even stronger, hungrier. Something insatiable.

The hint was obvious by the way you shoved his head down and your legs accommodated for his broad shoulders. Shotaro unzipped your skirt, taking it off of you. Next, his fingers curled underneath the waistband of your tights and panties, pulling them to your knees. You sighed blissfully once he ducked under your legs to position himself in front of your heat. Breath fanning the glistening, hot skin. All hesitation was gone. He dove in, a man starved for your praise and pleasure. “Fuck, Taro.” Your fingers clenched around his hair. The sound of his loud slurping and lapping of your arousal so erotic. The quiet whines that vibrated your clit while he was sucking on it, practically pulling out his hair, devine.

Every thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure through your body. Suddenly, you were desperate to reach a climax that you knew would be more consuming than anything you’d ever had before. You clutched onto his head tightly, grinding your unclothed core against his mouth. Eventually, he pushed his tongue as far into your velvety walls as he could and let you fuck yourself with it. Nose rubbing your sensitive nub. Tongue curling in just the right way. He kept going even if he couldn’t breathe. An intense grunt ripped through his throat. The vibration causing you to come hard. Your vision blurred, nails digging into his shoulder. Shotaro hummed as he lapped up your release. Not letting a single drop go to waste.

You yanked him away from your heat once you started to get overstimulated. He stared up at you, eyes blown wide open. Pupils dilated. Your chest heaved along with his. Large hands settling on your thighs, giving the soft skin reassuring caresses. His right hand was sticky and covered in a white substance. You peered down at his entire body. Dress slacks completely soaked from his own release, mixing with yours that was dripping from his chin. You brought his sticky fingers to your lips, sucking the salty mixture off them. Shotaro groaned at the sight, almost about to get hard again.

Your gaze shifted to the clock on the wall, then back onto your assistant’s content, adoring expression. You cleared your throat before speaking. “Clean yourself up. We have lunch with Baekhyun in twenty minutes.” Even with neither of you looking as sharp as you usually did, no one suspected a thing. And thus began your salacious affair. A secret that only you and your pain-loving lover boy would share.

perm taglist: @secretvipersorcerer @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

200+ Followers!

평생 우리 같이 있다면 I never be afraid to fall

I just want to thank everyone who has liked, commented and reposted my posts, as well as followed my blog.

I started @wonbinisms as a way to get back into the routine of writing. I had no idea that I would receive this much support! We’ve reached so many milestones on this blog and it hasn’t even been two months.

Right now I’m a little swamped with uni work, but I plan to continue/finish all my series and keep writing (hopefully) enjoyable oneshots for all of you.

For the time being, if you want to, you can check out my other blog @dontstoplafiesta where I have a couple longer RIIZE fics.

Thank you so much for everything! ❤️

Much love,

— wonbinisms💫

[wonbinisms]

rockstar * p.wb

fan X celebrity | imbalanced power dynamic | suggestive

You felt faint. Throat raw from all your screaming. And the high heeled boots you were wearing were killing your feet, but it was worth it just to stand at the barricade during Park Wonbin’s concert. He had a lopsided grin on his face as he downed a bottle of water. Smooth skin glistening with sweat under the stage lights. Sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his perfect nose. And those sexy hands that caressed his guitar like it was his lover. The air was already sticky but it felt hotter under his heated gaze that landed on you every few minutes.

“Do you mind if we get a little intimate for this next one?” He asked in his typical deep voice, chuckling as the crowd screamed in response. Eyes flashing briefly over in your direction, breathing heavily, bottom lip caught between his teeth. With the electric instrument strapped over his back, Wonbin hopped off the stage. His band playing the first chords of one his more sensual songs. Your heart started to pound. He walked along the barricade, grabbing the hands of different fans as he sang the leg-trembling lyrics. You felt as if your eyes would roll back and you would collapse when he stopped in front of you.

Immediately, you reached for his broad shoulders, hands gripping the straps of his white tank top. Wonbin let you pull him close. Close enough to smell his smokey cologne. He stared into your wide eyes as he sang. Hand sneaking past the metal bars to graze your hip. You couldn’t tell if it was the bass of the music rattling your chest or your heart ready to explode. He smirked at your parted lips and awe struck expression. It was clear that he found you cute. Or maybe more, seeing as he let his fingertips reach the soft skin of your thigh. Emboldened by his actions you dragged your hands down his chest. Toned muscles flexing under your touch.

Right before the guitar solo he pulled away from you, tossing the microphone to one of the security guards. You thought for certain he was going to walk away. Instead he turned around, flipped his guitar off his back, and leaned on the barricade in front of you, performing his solo. Your excited screams got muffled as you pressed your face onto his back, arms sneaking around his waist. Fingers lifting up the hem of his shirt to trace his prominent abs. Tossing his head back, Wonbin’s necklaces hit your forehead. Cool metal creating a contrast to your burning skin. Sweat dripping from his nape. He was so sexy you could’ve just died in that moment happily.

He faced you for the final chorus of the song, amused smile on his countenance when you attempted to sing along. Too much in a daze to focus on anything that wasn’t him. A hand went to the side of your neck once the song came to an end. Wonbin abruptly captured your lips with his own. You gasped allowing him to subtly brush his tongue against yours. It must have been no longer than a couple seconds but it felt like a lifetime. He tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking. “Cute,” he whispered to himself after seeing how your brain malfunctioned, licking your lips in disbelief. “See you later, Baby.” Wonbin spoke in your ear then walked away.

You panted, mouth hanging open. Eyes fluttering shut involuntarily. Your hands gripped the barricade railing, but it wasn’t enough to keep you upright as your shaky legs gave out underneath you. Squatting down, you wondered if he was serious when he said he would see you later. And if your body could take any more.

perm taglist: @secretvipersorcerer @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

[wonbinisms]

what to eat * l.at & j.sc

part seven of the eat series

friends with benefits to lovers? | college au | smut (mdni)

Sungchan let out short curses in pain as you disinfected the cuts on his hands. “I can’t believe you were fucking stupid enough to come here drunk,” your chastising tone went over his completely wasted head. His glossed over eyes blatantly staring at your chest. Your bed was typically too small for the both of you, but in this moment it seemed as if you couldn’t create enough distance between you and his familiar warmth. Even with him sat back against the wall and you on the edge of the bed, leaning over to get a better look at his palms, it wasn’t enough to entirely dissuade your impulsive self. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

He pulled one hand away to push your hair behind your shoulder, allowing him to see more of your concerned face and the curve of your breasts as they annoyingly remained hidden underneath the thin fabric of your sleep top. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed out. “My cock misses you so much.” Sounding like the Sungchan you knew, you wondered if he was finally sobering up. But when you glanced down at the zipper of his jeans, it wasn’t threatening to pop open. “Misses your tight, wet pussy. Fuck, Babygirl, you’re killing me.” He let out a low groan.

Definitely still drunk. You grew frustrated at how easily your body reacted to his words. Thighs squeezing together, breaths getting heavier, heart rate quickening. Swallowing a mouthful of spit, you tried to remain neutral. “Chan, you make it sound like your dick hasn’t felt the inside of every available girl in a mile radius.” You only chuckled dryly when he claimed it hadn’t.

“I don’t fuck any other girls raw, really,” he confessed, fingers brushing your collarbones. “I don’t trust them like I trust you.” Despite being curious as to what he meant by that, you remained silent. Thinking this was just the ramblings of a man who had one glass too many to drink. “They’re immature and crazy. If I got one of them pregnant, it would be fucking over for me.” You didn’t gasp or say anything in response that would display your shock. It was difficult to do so when his warm eyes were staring at you with such an intense desire and not the kind he normally had for you.

You trembled when his fingers caressed your cheek. Just hesitant enough to make you shudder. Sungchan blinked slowly, carefully leaning forward to bring his face to yours. “Y/N, you’re the only one.” He mumbled assuredly. “I don’t— I couldn’t… want anyone else… in a year, in ten years, in fifty years.” A fresh set of tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Similar to your misty ones locked onto him. “It’s you. It’s always you.” His voice got shaky as the first drops fell down his cheeks. “I know I’m a fucking loser with no future compared to you. But I’ve never had anything this good before. And if— I can’t lose it. I can’t lose you. And—“

Sungchan’s skin felt incredibly hot under your fingertips as you held his face, quietly shushing him. He leaned into your touch. “Chan-ie,” you cooed, lips brushing his without much thought. In fact, you weren’t sure your brain was functioning for any of it. The soft kisses. Climbing onto his lap, running your fingers through his disheveled hair while embracing him. The open-mouthed kisses he trailed from your shoulder to the top of your breasts. Tears still dripping from his chin onto your skin. Him pulling your top down to gently suckle on your nipples, your hips unconsciously grinding down on his.

Next thing you knew he was in between your legs, hovering over you, and desperately pistoning his length inside you. You weren’t just chasing your highs, you were chasing the feeling of comfort and familiarity that came with being physical with each other. He swallowed all your moans with his fervent lips, held down your flailing hands. “Babygirl, I missed you so much. This tight pussy… fucking good girl. Takes me so well. I missed this. Fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing me like that.” He was more nonsensical than usual. Feeling him stretch you out again, the sensation mind-numbing and euphoric, you weren’t sure you would ever be able to live without it. Without him.

“I fucking love this tight little body, this perfect pussy. Love how wet it gets for me. How it pulls me in. And I love your lips… warm mouth. Babygirl, you suck me off so well. I jerk off to just the thought of it.” The rational part of your brain was glad that he was sobering up, feeling better, but the other part lamented the idea that this was real. That when you woke up in the morning you’d have to deal with all this before going to meet up with Anton. That is if you could meet him after this, if he still wanted you. “I love your gorgeous ass smile and your sexy eyes. Look at me like I’m good. I love your hands. Hold me. Your voice. Babygirl, I fucking love you.”

You gasped, coming so hard your vision turned white. Those three words. Those three meaningful words. You finally got them. Sungchan made a few more sloppy thrusts, then his hot release filled you up. A short encore of muttered ‘I love you’s leaving his mouth. He collapsed on top of you, soft length still buried deep in your walls. Neither of you spoke. Just held each other close. His hands caressing your waist until he fell asleep. Quiet snores echoing across the small room. You felt like you should worry about this more but his solid weight pushing you into the mattress comforted you like nothing else. His familiar scent intoxicatingly soothing. Before you knew it your eyes were fluttering shut. The concerns of tomorrow never feeling more distant.

CHOOSE ANTON CHOOSE SUNGCHAN

perm taglist: @secretvipersorcerer @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @sanniekook @hwrtoni @sukistargirl

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