⍣ ೋ cw: explicit sexual content, exes to lovers, mutual masturbation , penetrative sex, creampie, crying during sex, pet anxiety, mentions of pregnancy, artist!hyunjin, mdni
notes: in which your situationship ex hyunjin from college asks you to watch his dog for the week--and things spiral from there.
You almost don’t answer.
Your phone buzzes across the table, skittering like a beetle over the wood, and you glance at the screen with the reflex of someone who doesn’t expect surprises anymore.
Hyunjin. The name glows up at you, unfamiliar only in the way it makes your stomach twist—like a song you haven’t heard in years but still remember every lyric to.
It’s been months since you last spoke. Maybe a year since you last saw him. A coffee meetup that turned into wandering aimlessly through the park, talking like nothing had ever gone wrong between you, except it had. That night ended with a long hug and a promise to keep in touch that neither of you kept.
And now he’s calling.
You stare at the screen for another ring. Then another.
Then you answer.
“...Hello?”
There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make you wonder if he hung up, and then:
“Hey,” he says, breathless like he’d been holding it. “Sorry—sorry to call out of nowhere. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
His voice hasn’t changed. Still soft in a way that wraps around your ribs. Still threaded with that low, careful tension like he’s always thinking five things at once and only saying one.
You shift in your seat, heart suddenly too loud in your chest.
“Okay,” you say slowly, warily. “What’s going on?”
A soft rustle comes through the line—maybe the jingle of keys, maybe his bracelets sliding against his wrist. You picture him pacing his apartment, the same way he used to during finals week, lip caught between his teeth, hair tucked behind one ear.
“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important,” he says. “And I get that it’s weird. Us not talking, and then—me dropping this on you.”
You glance toward the window, try not to let your voice shake. “What is this, exactly?”
He hesitates. “I have to leave the city. It’s an art residency. Last-minute. It’s… big.”
Your stomach twists again, but this time it’s sharper. Of course it’s big. Hyunjin was always meant for something more.
You lean back in your chair, eyes tracing the rain sliding down the windowpane like it’s trying to draw an answer for you. A part of you wants to ask where he's going, what the project is, if he’s excited—because of course he is, he always was, always buzzing with vision and color and a kind of hunger you never could name. But that part of you lives behind a glass wall now. You’re not sure you’re allowed to tap on it.
So you don’t ask. You swallow the words like coins dropped into a well—silent, swallowed, never coming back up.
“I’m happy for you,” you say instead, and it’s almost true. “You deserve it.”
Hyunjin exhales, and for a second you wonder if he’s smiling. “Thanks. That means more than you probably think.”
It shouldn't. But you don’t say that either.
“I wouldn’t call if I didn’t really need the help,” he adds, voice dipping a little lower now, like he’s bracing for the ask to land wrong. “It’s Kkami. My sitter canceled last minute, and everyone else is either busy or allergic. You were the only person I thought of who could handle him.”
You laugh softly, mostly out of disbelief. “Handle him? Hyun, your dog hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Hyunjin says, though there’s something too quick in his defense, too breathless—like maybe he’s trying to convince himself. “He’s just... territorial.”
You huff a dry laugh. “Yeah, I remember. He tried to piss on my jeans.”
“That was one time.”
“Twice.”
“Okay, but in his defense, they smelled like me.”
You pause. The silence that follows is sharp and sudden, the kind that cuts deep and clean. It’s the kind of silence that remembers.
Because those jeans had smelled like him—after that night. The last one. The one where he’d backed you against the wall of your own bedroom with his fingers still wet from your mouth, where he’d said things he probably didn’t mean and kissed you like he hated how much he did.
The night you both decided—without saying it—that it was over. That whatever “thing” had been pulsing between you wasn’t something either of you could hold without bleeding.
And yet. Here you are. Picking at it like a scab that never healed right.
Your throat works around the memory before your voice does. You don’t say anything at first—just sit there, hand wrapped too tightly around your phone, eyes fixed on some vague point on the wall like if you don’t move, it won’t reach you. Like you can’t still feel him, breath hot against your neck, hands fisting in your sheets, mouth tracing every soft part of you like he was trying to memorize the map of a place he had no business returning to.
He clears his throat on the other end, and it sounds like guilt. Or maybe longing. You’ve always had trouble telling the difference when it came to him.
“Look,” Hyunjin says, quieter now. “I wouldn’t be asking if I had another option. Kkami doesn’t do well with new spaces, and I can’t board him. He’s too anxious, and if he’s not with someone he knows, he’ll make himself sick.”
You finally speak, though your voice is thin. “So you want me to stay at yours.”
A beat. Then—“Yeah.”
Just like that. No sugarcoating. No backpedaling. Just Hyunjin, honest and bare in the way he always was once he stopped pretending not to feel everything at once.
You run a hand down your face. “Hyun, we haven’t talked in almost a year.”
“I know.”
“You haven’t even seen me since—”
“I know.”
He’s not angry, not defensive. Just… raw. Like the words are scraping him on the way out. You can hear the scrape.
“I didn’t think I’d ever call you again,” he admits. “I thought that was the deal. But when they offered me this residency, and I realized I had to leave tonight—you’re the only person I could trust. With him. With my home.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, hard enough to taste the coppery edge of restraint.
His home.
It’s stupid, really. How easy it is to fall back into this rhythm. How even now, after all the months, all the distance, he can still lace your name with history. You’d been friends once. Kind of. You’d laughed a lot, touched a lot, fucked even more—on couches, against doors, in the low hush of early morning when everything was tender and wrong. It was always supposed to be temporary. Temporary, but all-consuming.
But the feelings crept in like rot through the walls. And neither of you were brave enough to call it love, so you called it off instead.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you say, but even you don’t sound convinced.
“I’ll wash the sheets,” he jokes weakly.
You laugh, soft and involuntary, the sound catching somewhere in your throat. It’s not really about the sheets.
It never was.
And the silence that follows—god, it aches. Not sharp like the aftermath of a fight, but dull and lingering, like a bruise you don’t remember getting. Like a conversation left open on a table, gathering dust.
You clear your throat. “What time’s your flight?”
“Late,” he says. “But I still have to pack a few pieces and drop off the canvases. It’ll be tight.”
“Do you need help?” The words are out before you can catch them. You curse yourself immediately for the softness in your voice.
He hesitates. “No. It’s fine. Just—just the dog. That’s all I need help with.”
Right. The dog.
You glance at your calendar. Clear. Of course it’s clear.
Of course the universe decided to leave space for this.
“Alright,” you murmur. “Just send me the code. I’ll stay at yours. It’s fine.”
“You don’t have to bring anything,” he rushes to say, and it’s like he’s trying to compensate for the ask with over-kindness. “I washed the old blanket. The one you used to crash under on the couch. It’s still there.”
Your fingers tighten around your phone.
He doesn’t mention that the last time you slept under that blanket, you were still tangled in him. Half-dressed. Half-drunk on him. That he pulled it over your hips after, when you were too spent to move, and he kissed your shoulder like he wanted to stay but didn’t know how.
You don’t bring it up either.
Instead, you breathe out slow. “Cool. I’ll head over in an hour or two.”
“Okay.”
Neither of you say I missed you.
Neither of you say This is weird.
Neither of you say Is this going to break us again?
Instead, Hyunjin adds quietly, “I’ll leave a note.”
“For the dog?”
“For you.”
You close your eyes.
“Okay.”
He doesn’t say goodbye. Just… hangs up.
And you let the dial tone ring for a few seconds longer than you should, like maybe he’ll change his mind. Like maybe you will.
But the silence stays.
And when you finally move, dragging out your overnight bag and stuffing it half-heartedly with essentials, you can’t stop thinking about the smell of his apartment. The way the floor creaks by the hallway. The coffee mugs he used to leave near the sink, rimmed with paint. The pictures he never hung. The sketchbook that held a drawing of you in fading graphite—one he never knew you found.
You wonder if it’s still there.
You wonder what else of you is.
The building hasn’t changed.
You hate that you notice. Hate that your fingers still know the keycode before you even read the text. Hate that the elevator creaks on the same floor. That the hallway smells like turmeric and old wood and the trace of him—Hyunjin, in incense and paint and something vaguely sweet.
His apartment door is unlocked, just like he promised. A sticky note is taped to the front, scrawled in the quick, crooked handwriting you used to recognize across lecture halls and grocery lists alike.
“Come in. He’s dramatic, not dangerous. Don’t let him guilt trip you.” —H.
You roll your eyes and open the door.
It looks the same. Lived-in, messy in a way that’s curated. An art book cracked open on the coffee table. Two mugs in the sink. One of his hoodies flung across the back of the couch like he wore it last night. And maybe he did.
You hear the growl before you see him.
Kkami stands in the middle of the living room, ears pinned back, hackles raised, tail stiff like an accusation. He looks you dead in the eye and lets out a snarl so pointed you actually step back.
“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, tugging your bag higher on your shoulder. “We’ve been over this.”
He growls again. Louder.
You raise your hands. “I come in peace.”
He barks.
You take a careful step inside, nudging the door shut behind you. Kkami follows your every move like you’re an intruder in a palace he was knighted to protect.
“I’m not stealing your shit,” you tell the dog. “I’m just crashing here. Ask your absentee father.”
Kkami doesn’t find it funny.
You inch toward the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s written schedule sits neatly beside two bowls—one for food, one for water. Both full. Fresh.
You glance at the clock. He’s probably already at the airport. Maybe already boarding. Maybe looking down at the city through a plane window, tapping his fingers against the glass like he always did when he was anxious. You wonder if he thought about calling you again. You wonder if he’s relieved you didn’t call him first.
Kkami lets out a soft, pitiful whine behind you. When you turn, he’s sitting but tense, eyes never leaving you. Suspicious. Wounded. Territorial, like Hyunjin said.
“Jesus, you’re worse than him,” you sigh.
A folded slip of paper catches your eye. It’s tucked under the magnet shaped like a paintbrush on the fridge. Your name is written across the front.
Your throat tightens.
You don’t open it. Not yet.
You drop your bag by the couch and finally take a seat, letting the quiet settle around you. The apartment hums with memory. You used to sit here wrapped in his hoodie, eating leftover tteokbokki at midnight, legs draped across his lap while he rubbed lazy circles into your shin. You used to kiss in this corner. Fuck in this corner. Sleep in the bed down the hall like it meant nothing, even when it meant too much.
Kkami barks once—sharp and offended—then hops up onto the other end of the couch and curls into a tight, annoyed little donut.
“Truce?” you offer.
He sneezes. Well then.
You sigh and reach for your phone. Maybe you can FaceTime Hyunjin later. Let the dog see him. Hear him. Maybe that’ll help.
Or maybe it’ll make everything worse.
You glance over at the folded blanket. The place where you used to lay your head.
And wonder how long it’ll take for this place to feel empty without him in it.
You don’t sleep well that first night.
Kkami stays curled at the farthest edge of the bed like he’s punishing you, his little back turned, ears twitching at every shift you make beneath the sheets. He doesn’t bark, but he lets out these occasional, theatrical sighs—deep, betrayed, bone-deep things—like you’ve committed the ultimate offense by existing where Hyunjin should be.
You get it.
You feel it too.
In the morning, you wake before the sun finishes rising. The air in the apartment is cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your joints, your thoughts, the hollow behind your ribs. You drag Hyunjin’s blanket from the couch and wrap yourself in it, settle on the floor near the window with a mug of instant coffee that tastes like cardboard and nostalgia.
Kkami watches you from the kitchen doorway, still suspicious.
“Do you have a schedule, or are we just winging it?” you ask him.
He sneezes and turns his head. No comment.
The hours pass slow. You walk him—twice. He barks at a bus, growls at a stroller, and refuses to let you tie his leash to the bench while you grab a coffee from the corner place Hyunjin used to love. You wind up going without.
At noon, you wander the apartment, not touching anything but looking at everything. A half-finished canvas still rests on the easel in the corner. It’s abstract—something celestial, maybe. Blue and smoke and gold bleeding together like bruises in motion. You don’t know if it’s new. You don’t ask.
You think about texting him. Just something simple. He misses you already. Or He hasn’t peed on anything today. But the words feel too light. Too personal. You settle for:
12:31 PM — [You]: he ate most of his food. drank a lot of water too. no accidents.
The read receipt comes instantly. His reply is a few minutes later:
12:36 PM — [Hyunjin]: thank you <3
The heart curls in your chest. You close the app.
You make pasta for dinner and Kkami doesn’t touch his kibble until you sit beside him on the floor and pretend to eat a piece. Then he snarfs it all down like he’s proving a point.
That night, he won’t sleep again. He whines. He paces. He jumps down from the bed and runs to the door, then back again. Tail twitching. Eyes darting.
When you try to pet him, he flinches like he’s expecting a trick. You sit on the floor again, cross-legged in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie (you told yourself you brought it by accident), and say softly, “He’s not here. It’s just me.”
He whines again. Low and pitiful.
“Me too,” you whisper.
You glance toward the kitchen. Toward the fridge. That little slip of paper still waits, untouched beneath the magnet shaped like a paintbrush. Your name in his handwriting. Like a bruise. Like a dare.
You haven’t opened it. Not yet.
You slept on the couch.
Not because the bed wasn’t made—Hyunjin had even tucked in the corners, left a glass of water on the nightstand like he thought about what you’d need—but because you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl into the same sheets you used to wake up tangled in. Not when the scent of him still lived in the pillowcases. Not when the memory of his hands on your bare back still lingered in the seams of the duvet.
So you curled up under the old blanket instead, the one you used to steal during lazy afternoons and Netflix half-watched kisses and accepted the fact that your neck was going to ache in the morning. Kkami refused to join you. He spent most of the night pacing between the door and the hallway, growling at shadows.
The second night is worse.
Kkami is inconsolable. He won’t eat. Won’t lie down. Won’t stop pacing between the front door and the window like he’s waiting for Hyunjin to materialize from thin air. At one point, he noses Hyunjin’s shoes—left by the entryway—and lets out a sound so hollow and pitiful it actually makes your eyes sting.
You try everything. Treats. Music. White noise. The blanket that still smells like Hyunjin’s shampoo. But nothing works. It’s like something inside him is unraveling, the cord pulled too tight and fraying with every hour he doesn’t see the one person he’s built his little world around.
Same, you think bitterly, and feel stupid for it.
You end up sitting on the kitchen floor around midnight, your legs numb, your patience thinner than it’s been in weeks. Kkami’s resting his chin on his paws but still letting out this tiny, high-pitched whine every few seconds, like he’s trying not to cry but can’t help it.
And that sound—god, that sound shatters something in you.
You sigh, rub your face with both hands, and reach for your phone.
12:04 AM — [You]: he won’t sleep. he’s been crying for an hour. won’t eat either.
You don’t expect him to reply. Not at this hour, not while he’s halfway across the country doing Important Artist Things.
But your screen lights up with an incoming FaceTime call within seconds.
Your heart drops into your stomach.
You hesitate. Just for a second.
Then answer.
And for the first time in nearly a year, you see him.
Hyunjin’s face fills the screen—soft-lit and sleepy, hoodie bunched around his neck like he’d just been getting ready for bed. But it’s not just the setting that throws you. It’s him.
The long hair you used to run your fingers through—gone. All of it.
In its place: a buzzcut. Clean, close, severe in a way that shouldn’t suit him but somehow does. It makes his features sharper, more present. Like there’s nothing to hide behind anymore.
You blink. You don’t mean to stare, but the shock is immediate, visceral.
“Hi,” he says, quiet.
You swallow. “Hi.”
He sits up straighter. “Is he okay?”
You shift the camera toward Kkami, who immediately perks up. His ears shoot up like radar, and he lets out a small, startled bark before beelining to your lap—bumping his snout into the phone like he’s trying to crawl through it.
Hyunjin laughs. It’s breathless. Disbelieving.
“God, he’s dramatic.”
“He gets it from you,” you mutter.
Kkami presses against your chest like he’s trying to bury himself in your heart, finally calm now, finally still. You stroke a hand down his back and try not to think about the fact that it took Hyunjin’s voice to soothe him.
You glance at the screen again. Hyunjin’s watching you, not Kkami.
There’s a beat where neither of you speak. The only sound is Kkami’s soft breathing and the low hum of the city outside the window.
Then, gently:
“I left you something,” he says.
You swallow. “I know.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d find it.”
“I did.”
“You gonna open it?”
You glance toward the fridge. The note still waits, tucked under the paintbrush magnet like a secret too fragile to touch.
“Not yet,” you say.
And he doesn’t push. Just nods. “Okay.”
Kkami shifts closer to your thigh and exhales, finally resting his chin on your knee. You pet him with one hand, still holding the phone in the other.
“He’s sleeping now,” you whisper.
“So are you.”
You blink. “What?”
“Your eyes,” he says. “They do that thing. The little flutter when you’re about to crash.”
You’re too tired to argue. Too tired to ask why he remembers that.
“I’ll hang up,” he offers.
You don’t say no.
You just murmur, “Goodnight, Hyun.”
And you hear the softness in his voice as he says it back:
“Goodnight.”
You don’t sleep much better that night.
But Kkami doesn’t cry again.
The next few days fall into a strange kind of rhythm—quiet, off-kilter, but somehow soothing in the way old routines can be, even when they’re made of things that weren’t meant to last.
Kkami still hates you by daylight.
He growls when you walk into the room. Barks when you open the fridge. Refuses to eat unless you pretend not to look. He doesn’t let you pet him unless he’s half-asleep or tricked by a treat, and he definitely doesn’t let you forget that this is his house, his couch, his missing person.
But at night, when Hyunjin calls, it’s like a switch flips.
Kkami leaps into your lap the moment the ringtone echoes through the apartment. He curls there, fast and warm and trembling just slightly, like he’s spent all day building tension he doesn’t know how to unspool without Hyunjin’s voice in the room.
You always answer on the couch, blanket pulled tight around your shoulders, phone propped up against a half-full glass of water. Hyunjin always looks a little tired, a little flushed from wherever he’s just come back from—a gallery tour, a studio session, a walk through some city that doesn’t have your footprints on its sidewalks.
He tells you about the art residency. The gallery director who makes coffee that tastes like battery acid. The studio space—wide and cold and full of light. He tells you about a piece he’s working on: abstract, rough, loud in a way he hasn’t painted in years.
“You’d hate it,” he laughs, voice crackling faintly through the call. “It’s all jagged lines. Chaos. I think it’s about… hunger. Or maybe grief. I don’t know.”
“I never hated your work,” you say.
Hyunjin quiets. Then, low:
“You hated what it did to me.”
Your breath catches.
Because he’s right.
You did.
You hated the way he disappeared into it—into himself—those long stretches of silence when he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t touch you unless it was desperate and fleeting, like he was chasing the ghost of something he could never quite hold. You hated the way he used his own pain like paint thinner, diluted himself until all that was left was color on canvas and a shell of the boy you used to fall asleep beside.
But you don’t say that.
You just sit there, curled on his couch in his hoodie you’ve stolen from his drawer, your phone glowing in the soft hush of midnight.
“I hated how much it hurt you,” you say instead. “That’s not the same thing.”
Hyunjin nods slowly, his lips pressed into a line. “No. It’s not.”
Kkami shifts in your lap, stretching a little, his snout nudging your elbow before he sighs and drifts deeper into sleep. You stroke his fur absently, eyes still locked on the screen, on Hyunjin’s face—the new angles of it, the way the buzzcut makes him look older, sharper, like a wound that finally scabbed over.
He watches you for a while. Then murmurs, “I was scared to call you.”
You smile, tired and small. “I figured.”
“I thought you’d say no. That you wouldn’t even answer.”
“I almost didn’t.”
His throat bobs. “Why’d you say yes?”
You don’t answer right away.
Because it’s not just about the dog. Not just about the key he left under the stairs or the food already stocked or the note still waiting on the fridge like a breath you’re not ready to exhale.
You look at him. Really look.
And when you speak, it’s quiet. Honest.
“Because I missed you. Even when I hated missing you.”
The silence after is different this time.
He blinks. His mouth parts like he’s going to say something, but all that comes out is a whisper.
“Fuck.”
You let out a laugh—dry, breathless. “Yeah.”
He shifts on the screen, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “You still sleep on the couch?”
“Every night.”
“Why?”
“Because the bed remembers more than I’m ready to.”
His eyes flicker. He nods once. Like he understands. Like he hasn’t been sleeping either.
Another pause. Then—
“I dream about you,” he says.
And it’s not a confession. It’s a bruise. Something he’s been pressing on in the dark just to see if it still hurts.
You blink. “Hyun—”
“Not just the sex,” he adds, voice hoarse. “Though… yeah. That too. A lot, actually.”
You glance away, heat creeping up your neck. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I want to,” he says. “I want you to know I still—”
He cuts himself off. Breathes out hard. Shakes his head.
Kkami stirs in your lap, shifting slightly. The air feels too tight suddenly, the silence too loud.
You focus on Kkami. On the slow rise and fall of his small body, the way his paws twitch in sleep like he’s chasing something warm. It grounds you—barely.
Hyunjin exhales on the other end of the line. You can hear it, soft and ragged, the kind of breath that holds everything he didn’t say. Everything he still might.
You don’t speak. Not yet. Because what could you say? I still touch myself to the thought of you? I still wear your hoodie like armor when I can’t sleep? I still think about that night on the floor when we couldn’t stop, even though we knew it was already over?
None of it would come out right.
So instead, you keep your voice even when you ask, “Do you paint me?”
The question slips out before you can stop it. You don't even know why you asked it. Maybe its because you're so sleepy you can't filter you're thoughts. Maybe because he mentioned it once, over soggy cereal over the golden morning light that filtered through the blinds, over the laughter you've never quite had again.
Hyunjin stills.
On the screen, he doesn’t look shocked. He looks… worn. Like someone who’s been carrying the answer around for a while and doesn’t know where to put it.
“I try not to,” he says eventually. Quiet. Careful. “But you always end up there.”
Your breath falters. You nod slowly, like that’s an answer you expected—because it is. Because you knew. Somehow, you always knew.
You shift the phone slightly, angle it so he can see the window behind you. The dark skyline. The reflection of the room, soft and gold and full of ghosts. Your voice is steadier than you feel when you say, “I haven’t opened it.”
“I know,” he replies, just as soft.
“I want to. But…”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I think I need more time.”
“Take it,” he murmurs. “I left it because I had to, not because I needed anything back.”
You nod. Not that he can see it—not really. But somehow, you think he feels it anyway.
“Okay,” you say. It's the only thing you can manage that doesn’t crack under its own weight.
A pause stretches between you. Soft. Not cold. Just full. Like the breath before a confession. Like the second before a kiss.
Kkami snores lightly, curled deeper into your lap now, his whole body lax with trust. You glance down at him, stroke a thumb between his ears, then look back at the screen.
Hyunjin’s still watching you. Not the dog. Not the view.
Just you.
“You’re wearing my hoodie,” he murmurs, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shrug, suddenly shy. “Didn’t pack enough layers.”
“I knew you’d steal something,” he says, teasing, but low—like he's remembering the way you used to steal everything from him. His clothes. His time. His breath.
“You left the drawer cracked open on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
His smile softens into something quieter. More real.
“I used to love seeing you in my stuff,” he adds. “Used to come home and hope you’d be there. Curled up in it. Pretending to wait for me.”
You swallow. It’s harder than it should be. “I wasn’t pretending.”
Hyunjin blinks slowly. Like that hit him somewhere unexpected. Somewhere tender.
And then, quietly, almost afraid to hope: “Are you still?”
You could lie. You could deflect. But instead, you meet his eyes through the screen.
“I haven’t been with anyone else.”
His jaw works. “Neither have I.”
The words land between you like a marker—drawing a line not to separate, but to measure distance. And maybe the distance isn’t as wide as you thought.
Your fingers curl a little tighter in Kkami’s fur.
“I should go to bed,” you say. Your voice is quiet. A little raw.
“Okay,” Hyunjin whispers. “Me too.”
But neither of you move. The seconds tick by. You don’t even blink.
Eventually, he says, “Tomorrow night. Can I call again?”
You let out a soft breath, not quite a laugh. “Hyun… you’ve been calling every night.”
His smile doesn’t fade, but it shifts—tilts into something deeper. Less playful. More certain.
“I know,” he says. “But that was for Kkami.”
You blink. “And tomorrow?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. Not once.
“That’s for you.”
It knocks the wind out of you a little, the way he says it. Not romantic. Not dramatic. Just simple. True. Like he’s only just letting himself say it out loud, but he’s known it all along.
Your throat tightens. “Oh.”
Hyunjin watches you carefully. “Is that okay?”
You nod once. “Yeah. It’s… more than okay.”
Something in his posture loosens then, like he’s been holding a breath he can finally let go of. His shoulders drop. His mouth twitches again, a smile fighting its way to the surface but not quite forming—like he’s still afraid to want too much, to hope too fast.
You don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Not really.
But you know you’ll answer.
And maybe this time you’ll stop pretending it’s for the dog.
“You’re on the bed.”
Hyunjin says it the moment the screen connects. No hello. No lead-up. Just those four words, soft and low and unmistakably aware.
You blink at him from where you’re sitting, back pressed to the headboard, knees pulled up beneath the comforter. His comforter.
You almost lie. Almost say you were just passing through. That the light was better in here. That Kkami stole the couch.
But Hyunjin’s already smiling—slow and knowing, like he’s been waiting for this.
You exhale through your nose. “Kkami’s on the couch.”
“Mm,” he hums, a little amused. “So it’s just you in my bed.”
Your fingers tighten around the phone, feeling a little flustered. “Is that going to be a problem?”
His eyes darken a shade, but the smile stays. “Not even a little.”
You roll onto your side, careful not to let the phone slip. The sheets are warm beneath you, still smelling faintly like cedar and fabric softener and something only he ever carried. His presence is everywhere in this room. On the walls. In the folded clothes. Under your skin.
Hyunjin shifts on his end of the call—he’s propped up on pillows, a fitted black tank clinging to his chest, the cut of it leaving little to the imagination. His toned arms are on full display, lean muscle catching the dim light, subtle and sculpted like something sketched in charcoal. His expression is unreadable, caught somewhere between reverence and restraint.
“I thought about you today,” he says after a beat.
You tuck your face into the pillow, just a little. “Like you usually do?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. “But this time I didn’t fight it.”
Your heart thuds against your ribs, slow and heavy. “What were you thinking?”
His gaze dips, like he’s shy all of a sudden. “That I miss you. That I used to wake up to you in that bed.”
You swallow, voice thinner now. “It’s a little colder without you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The silence that follows is different from all the others before it. It’s thick. Electric. It hums with all the things neither of you have said but haven’t stopped feeling. The kind of silence that shifts when the air gets warmer, when the breath starts catching, when the ache finally starts to slip through.
Hyunjin wets his lips. His voice is barely a whisper. “You look good there.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “I feel... restless.”
He shifts again, almost imperceptibly. “Tell me.”
Your gaze flickers. “Tell you what?”
“What you’re thinking. Right now.”
You hesitate.
But then, softly, deliberately: “I was thinking about your hands.”
Hyunjin’s mouth parts slightly.
“I was thinking about how you used to touch me here,” you say, dragging your fingers over the blanket, slow, just below your collarbone. “And here.” Down, lower now, to the place between your ribs.
His breath stutters through the speaker.
“And I was wondering…” you murmur, voice barely above a hum, “if you miss the way I used to say your name when you touched me like that.”
Hyunjin closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, they’re dark, focused, hungry.
“I think about it all the time,” he says. “Every fucking night.”
Your thighs press together under the blanket. You feel your pulse everywhere—behind your knees, in your fingertips, between your legs. It’s not even about the sex. Not yet. It’s about the weight of being wanted by someone who remembers you—who still remembers.
“I haven’t touched anyone else,” you say.
He swallows hard. “Don’t.”
“I don’t want to.”
Hyunjin nods slowly. “Me either.”
Then, quiet: “Can I stay on the call?”
You blink. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says, voice rough now, “if I asked you to touch yourself… would you let me watch?”
Your breath catches. Not from nerves. From need.
You don’t say yes. You just let the phone settle against the pillow beside you, angled toward your face, the way he used to tilt your chin when he wanted a better look at how undone you were.
The sheets shift as your hand moves lower.
Hyunjin watches. And when he speaks, it’s barely a whisper, like he’s already somewhere far beneath the surface with you.
“Fuck. You always looked so pretty like this.”
You inhale shakily, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, slow and careful, testing the heat already gathered there.
Hyunjin’s eyes drag down your body. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. His voice is rough with memory.
“Remember that time on the floor? After your exam? You were so out of it—barely undressed. I just shoved your panties to the side and made you come in, what, two minutes?”
You let out a quiet, choked sound at the back of your throat.
He smiles—crooked, dark. “Yeah. You clenched so hard around my fingers I thought I’d lose them.”
You whimper softly. Your hand moves slow, wet, dragging through the mess of your own need, slick pooling beneath your fingertips like your body remembers him even better than your mind does.
“God, that sound,” Hyunjin breathes. “That little gasp when you’re just starting to touch yourself. Same one you made when I used to run my fingers down your stomach—real slow, just to watch you twitch.”
You press harder against your clit, circles tightening, mouth falling open as your back arches into the memory. He’s not even touching you, and still—your body bends like it’s learned him by muscle memory.
Hyunjin notices. Of course he does.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice gone low and ragged, the kind that scrapes the inside of your throat just hearing it. “All spread out in my bed. Fucking yourself open with your hand like you want me to see everything. Like you know I used to make you feel better than anyone else ever could.”
You moan, breath catching, and Hyunjin’s smile sharpens.
“Touch your tits,” he says, not as a command—but a conjuring. Like he already knows you’re aching for it. “Lift your shirt for me.”
You obey without a sound, pushing the hem up slowly, just enough to expose the curve of one breast, the soft point of your nipple hard and aching from the friction of your shirt.
He groans. “You remember how obsessed I was with your tits? Couldn’t stop sucking on them. Couldn’t stop biting.” His jaw clenches. “You used to beg me to be gentle. And then beg me not to stop.”
Your fingers slide down again—slippery, desperate. Your thighs shake under the weight of it. The rhythm is messier now, your hips chasing pressure. Hyunjin watches all of it, his hand dragging down his torso, disappearing beneath his waistband.
“Touching yourself in my bed,” he growls. “Wearing my shirt. Letting me watch while you make yourself come for me.”
He’s panting now, hand working slow, deliberate strokes beneath the screen. His tank top clings to his chest, sweat beading along his collarbones. His buzzed hair is messy, sticking slightly to his forehead, and his mouth—his fucking mouth—is red and parted, like he’s still tasting you.
“You remember the way I used to fuck you from behind?” he says. “Pushed your face into the mattress, held your hips like you’d run from me if I let go?”
You whimper—your fingers falter, then speed up.
“Could barely breathe, baby. You’d just sob into the sheets. You loved it. Took every inch, crying like you couldn’t handle it—and still begged for more.”
Your body goes taut, heels digging into the mattress, orgasm hovering just out of reach.
Hyunjin's voice drops to a growl, breath quick and filthy. “Bet your pussy’s fucking tight right now. Clenching like it forgot what it’s supposed to take—like it’s trying to remember the shape of my cock.”
He groans, low and wrecked. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach it again. I’ll stretch you open so slow you feel it for days. Won’t stop ‘til you’re dripping all over my sheets, crying into the pillow, begging for more.”
You whimper his name—helpless. Shattered.
“You want me to say it?” Hyunjin pants, fist working now, muscles flexing. “Want me to tell you how I’d do it?”
You nod, frantic. Desperate.
His voice turns molten. Thick with lust, arrogance, something cruel and beautiful.
“I’d start slow. Tease you with just the tip. Let you feel the stretch, let you beg for the rest of it. Then I’d give you all of it at once—deep, hard. Just to see you fucking cry.”
You do cry out. The tension in your body snaps tighter, hips lifting off the bed, toes curling. So close.
“I’d fuck you into the mattress,” he growls. “Grip your hips and slam into you so hard you’d lose your voice. You remember how I’d do that? Say, ‘You’re not done yet, baby. You can take it.’ And you always fucking would.”
You’re whimpering now, moaning into your own shoulder to muffle the sound, fingers moving in slippery, filthy rhythm. The orgasm’s close—so close—spooling at the base of your spine, hot and tight and relentless.
“Oh, fuck, there it is,” he gasps, fucking into his fist now, stroking faster. “You’re close. I can see it—hear it. Just like that, baby. Let go for me. Come for the boy who still dreams about the way you taste. Come for the fucking lunatic who’d trade his last painting just to feel your pussy clench around his fingers one more time.”
That breaks you.
You moan his name—soft, ruined, high-pitched—and you come with your hand buried between your thighs, eyes fluttering, back arching. The pleasure pulses through you in waves, soaked and frantic and unstoppable.
“God, you’re still so fucking perfect,” he grits out. “I could’ve painted this. You—like that. That’s my favorite version of you.”
You whimper, still trembling.
He grins. Dark. Gleaming. “Wanna see what you do to me?”
You nod, dizzy.
He shifts the phone—just enough for you to see the slick length of him in his hand. Red at the tip, dripping, veins thick under taut skin. His pace is ruthless now.
“I used to fuck your thighs just to tease you,” he pants. “Not even your pussy. Just that pretty space between them. Used to slide my cock right there and come all over your stomach.”
You let out a breathy sound of disbelief, hips twitching in aftershock. Your cunt flutters around nothing, empty and aching.
“Fucking ruined me,” he snarls. “You ruined me. No one else has even come close. No one sounds like you. No one feels like you.”
And then, through gritted teeth:
“I’m gonna come thinking about your mouth. That filthy little tongue. That sweet fucking smile you gave me while I fucked your throat.”
Your legs tremble again.
“Fuck, baby—fuckfuckfuck—”
He comes with your name on his tongue, head thrown back, muscles tensed, body shuddering through it as his hips stutter beneath the blanket. His jaw slackens, hand squeezing out the last twitch of pleasure.
The silence after is sharp. Breathless.
Your own body still buzzes, skin flushed, sheets damp with sweat and want and memory.
Neither of you speak at first. Just breathing. Just staring.
Eventually, Hyunjin looks up again. His voice is hoarse, trembling at the edges.
“Tell me this isn’t just sex.”
You don’t.
You just stare back.
And then you hang up.
You hang up, and your hand is still trembling. Your whole body is still trembling, wrecked in ways that have nothing to do with the orgasm.
It takes less than a minute for him to call back.
Then again.
And again.
You watch the screen light up with his name—Hyun—and each time, it makes your stomach twist so violently it feels like punishment. Like grief.
You don’t answer.
The fifth time, he stops calling. Thirty seconds later, your phone dings with a text.
[Hyunjin]: i’m sorry. please just tell me if that was too much. [Hyunjin]: i didn’t mean to push you. i didn’t mean to fuck everything up.
[Hyunjin]: we don’t have to talk about it. we can pretend it didn’t happen if you want. i’ll follow your lead. just… please say something.
You don’t respond to those either.
You just turn off read receipts and shove the phone under the pillow.
The next few days go by in a strange, slow blur.
You and Kkami settle into a rhythm. He doesn’t bark anymore when you walk past. Doesn’t flinch when you reach for his leash. He even curls up at your feet when you’re on the couch, sometimes nuzzling his nose into your ankle like he’s already decided you belong here.
It should feel comforting.
It doesn’t.
You stop sitting in Hyunjin’s bed. You stop wearing the hoodie. You wash it, fold it, and put it back exactly where you found it, like none of this ever happened.
You send him brief texts. Clipped. Neutral.
[You]: he ate all his dinner. no accidents. slept fine.
[You]: took him for a walk. he peed on someone’s shoe.
[You]: when’s your flight again?
You don’t tell him how it feels like the walls have closed in.
How you’ve stopped sleeping in his bed again—even if the couch hurts your back. Even if the couch doesn’t smell quite like him.
How Kkami curls up beside you now without growling, without guilt. You take him for long walks. Let him tug you through the park. Let him bark at pigeons and lick your knuckles and rest his chin on your thigh when you scroll through old texts you don’t send anymore.
You don’t cry. But your chest aches in a way that feels dangerously close.
You were never going to be able to leave without feeling like this.
But now it’s worse. Because you let yourself want again.
And it’s giving you vertigo.
[Hyunjin]: should be back around 5:30. just leave the key in the box. thank you again. for everything.
You stare at the message for a long time.
Not because of what it says.
But because of what it doesn’t.
And what you don’t know is this:
Hyunjin’s lying.
His flight lands at 3:10.
He’s already halfway through the city when you’re zipping up your bag.
He’s already in the elevator by the time you’re taking out the trash.
And he’s standing at the front door—key in hand, chest tight, hands shaking—when you reach for the handle to leave.
You open the door and nearly collide with him.
You freeze.
The air catches.
Time does something strange.
Hyunjin’s just… there.
Sweatshirt slung over his shoulder, suitcase by his side, curls of damp air clinging to the collar of his shirt from the humid sprint through the city. And his eyes—sharp, dark, wide with something between relief and devastation—lock onto yours like he’s forgotten how to blink.
For a second, neither of you speaks.
Then—
“Hyun—?”
Kkami barrels into view like a missile. He lets out a shrill bark of excitement and practically throws himself into Hyunjin’s legs, circling and jumping and whining like he’s just won the fucking lottery.
But Hyunjin doesn’t look down. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink.
He just stares at you.
And says, low, quiet, steady:
“You were really gonna leave.”
You clutch your bag a little tighter. “You said you’d be back at five.”
“I lied.”
You swallow. “I figured that part out.”
His jaw clenches. His hands twitch by his sides, like he doesn’t know whether to reach for you or shove them into his pockets or bury them in your skin just to make sure you’re real.
Kkami lets out another bark, trying to wedge his head between you two like he’s the center of gravity—but Hyunjin doesn’t even glance down. Not once.
All of him is focused on you.
“You weren’t going to say goodbye.”
It’s not a question. It’s an accusation. A plea. A wound.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to.”
“Bullshit.”
That makes you flinch. Just a little. He sees it. His expression softens, but only barely.
Hyunjin steps forward. Not fast—but purposeful. Like if he stops now, you’ll disappear all over again.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice taut with something sharp. “I’m sorry I came on too strong. I’m sorry I didn’t give you time. I’m sorry I didn’t say what I should’ve said months ago, years ago—fuck, the morning after. But don’t stand here and tell me I didn’t want you.”
You inhale—tight, shallow. Like there’s no room in your lungs for this.
For him.
“Hyun—”
“No,” he cuts in, but it’s not cruel. Just cracked. “You don’t get to walk out and let me find the ghost of you in my bed again. Not after you let me see you like that. Not after I—”
His voice breaks.
He swallows it down.
Kkami sits at his feet now, finally quiet, as if even he knows this part isn’t his.
“I meant it,” Hyunjin says, softer now. “That night. Everything I said. Everything I remembered. It wasn’t just to get you off.”
Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag.
“You said you missed me,” he goes on. “But then you shut the door in my face. And I was willing to pretend I didn’t care. I was willing to take scraps just to be near you. But if you’re still standing in front of me—if you haven’t walked away yet—then just fucking tell me.”
He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize you all over again.
You look at him. Really look. And you know—he’s not going to let you run.
Not this time.
“Go get the note.”
His voice is soft, but firm. Like a command spoken through a kiss. Like an ache wrapped in velvet.
You blink. “What?”
“The letter,” he repeats. “The one I left you. On the fridge.”
You freeze.
“I know you haven’t opened it.”
You swallow. “I wasn’t ready.”
“I don’t care,” he says, and there’s a flicker of something dark in his voice—something possessive, guttural. “I want you to read it. Now.”
You hesitate.
“Please,” he adds, and that’s what breaks you.
You nod—barely—and turn without a word. Each step toward the kitchen feels thick, underwater.
You open it, and—
It’s not a letter.
Not really.
It’s a patchwork of thoughts, of half-confessions. Scribbled lines, crossed-out phrases, uneven spacing. The ink changes color midway—black, then blue, then black again. Some words are written in cursive. Some in a rush. Some like they cost him something to write.
You glance up. He nods again.
“Read it,” he says. “Out loud.”
You hesitate. Then you read.
“You once laughed in your sleep, and I didn’t sleep at all that night. I just watched you and hoped that whoever you were dreaming about looked like me.”
You swallow hard. Keep going.
The ink shifts color. From deep black to something fainter. Navy. A pen running dry, maybe.
Your voice wavers.
“There’s a sweater you left. It doesn’t smell like you anymore. I hold it anyway.”
Hyunjin’s throat works. He doesn’t interrupt.
“I never painted your face. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get your eyes right. But I painted your hands. A hundred times. Because they always knew how to hold me better than I knew how to ask.”
Your chest twists. You can’t speak the words out loud anymore, but you read. You read and read and read until there is nothing left, until the space between you feels alive–electric.
He steps forward. Just one step. But it’s enough to close the distance.
“I had people,” he continues. “So many people I could’ve called. People I trust. People who would’ve said yes.”
His eyes are burning now—dark, wet, glittering with something fragile and ferocious.
“But I didn’t want them. I wanted you.”
You don’t say anything. Can’t. Your hands are trembling.
“I told myself it was about Kkami. About the timing. About convenience.” He huffs out a broken laugh. “But it wasn’t. It was you. It was always you.”
Your breath falters.
“I missed you,” he says. “So much it made me sick. I thought I could bury it. Paint over it. Work through it. But I couldn’t. I never did. You’ve always been underneath it all—under the hunger, the silence, the mess I made of myself.”
He steps closer. You’re breathing the same air now.
“I loved you then,” he says. “When we were tangled up in bedsheets and half-truths and pretending it didn’t mean anything. I loved you when you wore my hoodie and called me yours with your eyes. I loved you the second I saw you, and I—”
His voice cracks.
“And I love you now.”
You don't remember moving. Don’t remember closing the gap, dropping your bag, reaching for him with hands that should’ve known better.
All you know is this: one second, you're blinking back tears, and the next, you're kissing him like you're drowning.
Hyunjin catches you with both hands—one at your jaw, the other curling around your waist, steadying. The kiss is messy, open-mouthed, frantic. His lips part on a gasp when you press your body to his, and then he's devouring you like something starved.
Your back hits the wall. His teeth scrape your bottom lip. Fingers thread into his hair—short now, prickling at the scalp—and he groans like it’s breaking him.
You drop your bag. You don’t even hear it hit the floor.
You don’t care.
His hands are everywhere. On your waist, your hips, the curve of your spine. He pulls you in so tight you feel the tremor in his arms, the sheer desperation coiled in his chest like a spring pulled too far.
“Fuck,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you—”
His voice breaks again, and then he’s back on you, lips trailing across your jaw, down the line of your neck. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting on a moan as he bites softly into your throat—just enough to mark. Just enough to remember.
Your hands scrabble at the hem of his shirt, yanking it up, palms hungry on bare skin. He hisses as your nails drag over his stomach, muscles twitching beneath the heat of your touch.
“Take it off,” you breathe.
He does. In one motion, the tank top is gone—flung to the floor like it offended him. And you stare. You can’t help it.
He’s still art. Still all sharp lines and soft skin and lean, desperate hunger. His chest heaves with every breath, sweat glinting in the hollow of his throat, and you think: I could die like this. I could burn for him and never want to be saved.
Hyunjin kisses you again—harder this time, hungrier. Like he heard it. Like he wants to go up in flames with you.
His hands slide under your thighs, lifting you without warning, and you gasp as your back hits the wall again, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The air shifts. Your breath catches. His cock presses against you through his jeans—thick, hot, twitching with every grind of his hips.
“I can’t wait,” he pants against your mouth. “I need to be inside you. Right now.”
“Then do it,” you breathe, dragging your nails down his back. “Hyune—please—”
Hyunjin breathes something that sounds like a curse, or maybe a prayer, and then he’s walking—stumbling, really—half-guided by the desperate way you’re clinging to him, the press of your mouths, the sharp hitch of your breath when he grabs at your ass to hold you higher. You barely register the shift from wall to bedroom until your back hits the mattress, until the world becomes sheets and skin and the low rasp of his voice murmuring your name like it’s sacred.
The mattress gives beneath your weight, springs groaning under the tangle of limbs and heat and history. Hyunjin follows you down like gravity itself — hands sliding, mouth chasing, body already slotting between your thighs as if it never forgot where it belonged.
His shirt is gone. Yours joins it. He kisses you through every inch of skin he unveils, frantic and starved and reverent, like he’s not sure whether to worship you or ruin you.
You arch beneath him when his tongue traces the curve of your breast, the bite of his teeth following fast after — a soft sting that makes your breath catch, your fingers dig into his shoulders. He groans when your nails drag down his back, when your thighs fall open wider.
And then he’s there — rutting against your center, clothed still but so hard it aches through the friction, the weight of him pressing perfect and punishing between your legs.
You can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can only move — hips grinding up to meet every desperate push of his, your cunt soaked and aching with the need to be filled.
Hyunjin’s hand slips down, hooking your thigh over his hip. He grinds into you through the last barrier, jeans rough against your soaked underwear, and it’s filthy the way your body answers—already arching, already clenching around nothing. You chase the friction shamelessly, trying to wring every ounce of pressure you can from the maddening drag of his cock pressed to your core.
He hisses against your throat, breath hot, teeth scraping the fragile skin there. You’re drenched. There’s no mistaking it—the way your panties cling, the way your slick seeps through them and stains his jeans, how he shudders just from the heat of you pulsing against the fabric.
The zipper’s down before you can even register the motion. He pushes his jeans low enough to free himself—hard and heavy and flushed dark with want. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. He tears your panties off with a quiet growl, not cruel, just crazed with the need to feel skin on skin, no more layers, no more time.
When he lines up and pushes in, it’s one long, devastating stroke—his cock thick and perfect and stretching you open like you were made for it.
You gasp—sharp, strangled. Your nails sink into his back.
Hyunjin goes still.
Buried to the hilt inside you, his entire body trembling with restraint, every muscle locked tight like he’s trying to keep himself from coming right then and there.
“Fuck,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “You—oh my god—”
His forehead drops to your shoulder. He’s shaking. You feel it. In his arms, in his breath, in the way his cock pulses deep inside you without moving. The kind of overwhelmed that turns to worship. The kind of ruin that feels like coming home.
You tighten around him instinctively—hungry, pulsing—and he lets out a strangled moan against your skin.
“I swear to god,” he whispers, forehead pressing to yours. “If I move, I’m gonna come like a fucking teenager.”
Your nails dig deeper into his back, anchoring him there, as if you could stop time with the press of your fingertips. His cock twitches inside you, thick and throbbing, and it feels like too much and not enough all at once.
Hyunjin groans—low, raw, like the sound is being dragged out of him by force.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants. “You feel… I forgot—fuck, I forgot how perfect you are.”
You whimper, breath caught in your throat. You’re stretched so full it feels like splitting—blissfully unbearable. Like he’s carved to fit you, or maybe you were carved for him.
He doesn’t move. Can’t. His whole body is locked in place, every muscle drawn taut with the kind of restraint that hurts.
“I’m gonna embarrass myself,” he rasps. “You’re so warm, I—I need a second.”
You nod, gasping. “Okay.”
But your body doesn’t care. It’s greedy. Slick clings to your inner thighs, to the base of his cock. You pulse around him again—tight, hot, involuntary—and he shudders, a curse breaking on his lips.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” he whispers, biting your shoulder.
“I’m not,” you breathe, but your hips roll anyway, a tiny grind up into his stillness.
Hyunjin moans—loud, broken. “Baby, I’m serious. You do that again and I’ll fucking—”
You clench again, on purpose this time.
He snaps.
In one hard thrust, he pulls out halfway and slams back in. You cry out—sharp, wanton—as your body folds around his. The stretch. The impact. The sound of skin on skin.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, your head tipping back, throat exposed.
Hyunjin watches the way your mouth parts, how your breasts bounce with every desperate snap of his hips. He groans then drops his mouth to your chest, sucking a bruise over your heart.
“This mine?” he pants, dragging his cock out slow before plunging back in. “Still mine?”
You can’t speak. Can only nod, breath caught in your throat. He fucks you through the motion, slow and deep now, the grind of his cock so obscene you swear you can feel him everywhere—behind your knees, in your throat, echoing in every part of you that remembers how he used to love you.
“No, baby,” he murmurs, voice fraying, fingers sliding under your knee to push your thigh back, opening you wider. “Say it. Let me hear you say it.”
“It’s—” Your voice breaks on a moan when he thrusts deep again, dragging against that spot that makes your vision go white at the edges. “It’s yours, Hyunjin. Always.”
He groans into your chest like the words punched the air out of him. Then he’s fucking you harder, deeper, like he’s trying to anchor himself in the way you take him. The bed creaks, the headboard thuds against the wall, but you don’tHe moans into your chest like the words physically hit him, his thrusts growing messier, more frantic. His hand finds yours and pins it above your head, fingers lacing together tight, grounding him even as he loses himself in the slick, pulsing heat of you.
You’re soaked, ruined, trembling under every thick slide of his cock. He hits so deep it borders on pain, and yet you arch into it—into him—dragging him closer, clawing at his back like if you could just get closer, it might be enough.
“I missed this pussy,” he growls, the words slurred and broken against your throat. “I fucking dreamed about it. Thought about it every night with my cock in my hand—nothing felt as good, nothing—fuck—”
You keen, high-pitched, overwhelmed. Your body pulses around him again, tight as a vice, and it makes him stutter—a half-thrust cut short by the shudder that runs through him.
He kisses you then—desperate, biting, tongue dragging into your mouth like he wants to consume you from the inside out.
You’re moan is swallowed by his mouth when he hits that spot—deep and relentless—and your whole body jolts. Your back arches, your legs tighten around his waist, dragging him deeper.
“Right there?” he growls. “That the spot, baby?”
You nod, frantic, mouth open but no words coming—just breath, just heat, just the sound of him splitting you open again and again.
Hyunjin grins. It's crooked. Crooked and cocky and dizzy with something feral. Like he’s gone. Like you’ve pulled him under with you.
“Yeah,” he breathes, thrusting deeper, slower now, grinding his hips in a filthy circle that makes your eyes roll back. “I remember. Right there. Got you clenching like you’re about to cry.”
His voice breaks on a moan, guttural and reverent. “Fuck, that’s so pretty—so fucking pretty, baby—your face when I fuck you like this.”
He’s unraveling, you can feel it—his rhythm fraying, pace faltering, every thrust a prayer half-remembered. He buries himself deep and stays there, hips pressed flush, cock pulsing inside you like a heartbeat. His forehead falls to yours again, and he’s breathing so hard it shakes both your bodies.
“You gonna cry for me?” he whispers, voice all fray and silk. “Wanna see it, wanna feel you fall apart. I’ll take care of it—I’ll hold you through it, I promise.”
You don’t mean to. But it’s been too much—his mouth, his voice, the stretch of him splitting you open in perfect, deliberate ruin. Your eyes blur, your breath hitches, and before you can stop it—
A tear slips down your cheek.
Hyunjin sees it. And something inside him shatters.
“Oh my god,” he chokes, fingers trembling where they hold your thigh. “That’s it, that’s—fuck—”
He fucks you through it, slow and deep, every stroke angled to keep you on the edge. His free hand cradles your face, thumb brushing the wetness from your cheek. And he’s murmuring now, wrecked and ragged and sweet:
“You’re so good for me. So perfect. I don’t deserve you—I don’t—”
You cry out again, back arching as your orgasm hits—wave after wave of unbearable heat crashing through you. You seize around him, walls fluttering, hips stuttering beneath his weight.
Hyunjin groans like it’s killing him. Like the feel of you falling apart around his cock is undoing him thread by thread.
“Can I—fuck, baby, where do you want it?” he gasps, teeth gritted, body coiled so tight you think he might break apart if you say no.
“Inside,” you breathe, wrecked and shameless. “Want it inside—please.”
That last word shreds him.
He thrusts once—deep, sharp—then again, slower this time, drawn-out like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel. His eyes flutter shut. His mouth falls open. And then he’s coming—hard.
A low, desperate sound tears out of him as his cock jerks inside you, spilling warmth in thick, molten pulses. He buries himself as deep as he can go, arms trembling around you, breath stuttering in your ear. His whole body shakes with it, every muscle straining to stay rooted in you as pleasure rips through him like lightning.
He stays like that—deep inside you, trembling, breathless—until the shudders fade to something softer. Something quieter.
The kind of silence that feels like safety.
His forehead rests against yours, damp hair brushing your temple, and you can feel the weight of him everywhere—his chest pressed to yours, his arms wrapped around your waist, the steady thrum of his heart syncing with your own.
Neither of you speaks.
There’s nothing left to say.
Just breath. Just warmth. Just the slow, wet drag of him slipping out of you when his body finally yields, when your bodies finally remember they’re separate things again. You wince a little, overstimulated, but he’s careful—gentle hands guiding your hips as he settles beside you.
The bed is a mess. You’re a mess. But in his arms, none of it matters.
He pulls you close, one hand curling behind your neck, the other splayed low across your spine. You fit against him like you were made to—legs tangled, faces barely apart. His eyes find yours, dark and soft and unreadable. And then—
He kisses you.
Slow. Tender. Unhurried. Like he’s not trying to restart anything—just thank you, silently, for letting him fall apart in your arms.
Your fingers slip into his hair. His thumb draws circles at the base of your spine.
And in that quiet, breathless space—there is no ache, no past, no noise.
The gallery hums with low conversation and champagne glasses clinking. Golden evening light filters through tall windows, casting Hyunjin’s paintings in soft amber and dust. He stands near one of his larger pieces—stark, aching, all deep reds and pale ivory brushstrokes layered like wounds healed over—speaking to a small crowd of critics and curators, hands moving with slow confidence as he explains his process.
It’s been years since he’s spoken like this—without apology. Years since he let the world see him this raw and unguarded. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, long hair tied back loosely, wedding band glinting when he gestures. He looks settled now, anchored. And you know what it took to get him there.
You weren’t supposed to come.
He’d kissed your forehead this morning, hand warm and reverent on your swollen belly, and told you to rest. “You’ll just get exhausted,” he’d said, brushing your hair back, “and I’ll be distracted the whole time wondering if your ankles are swollen or if the baby’s doing backflips again.”
But now you’re here.
Standing just inside the gallery, framed by the door like something sacred. You wore the dress he loves—the one that drapes gently over the curve of your belly, soft and simple, glowing in the dusk light. One hand rests instinctively at your side, the other slipping under the swell of you. There’s a quiet smile on your lips, half proud, half bashful, and your eyes are locked on him.
Hyunjin doesn’t see you at first. He’s mid-sentence, talking about brush technique and layered memory, about how grief isn't linear, how art can be a body trying to heal. His voice is steady. His hands are sure.
Then he glances up.
And freezes.
You watch it happen in real time—the shift. His mouth stutters around a word, vowels cut short, fingers faltering mid-gesture. And then—god. That smile. Unrehearsed, boyish, wide in a way that crinkles his eyes and ruins all pretense. A pure, delighted thing that belongs only to you.
A few people glance over their shoulders, curious. But Hyunjin barely notices.
He catches himself, coughs once, and somehow fumbles through the last few lines of his explanation. His voice is softer now. Almost sheepish. He wraps up quickly, answering a question with a vague nod, thanking the crowd with a half-bow.
And then he’s moving.
Straight through the gallery, long strides purposeful, eyes never leaving yours.
You open your mouth—maybe to apologize, maybe just to greet him—but he’s already cupping your face in his hands before you can speak. His fingers are cool from holding a champagne flute, but his palms are warm. Familiar. His touch gentle despite how frantically he reaches for you.
“You’re unbelievable,” he says, kissing your forehead. “I told you not to come.” A kiss to your nose. “I specifically said—” another to your cheek, “—that I’d worry—” your chin “—that you’d get tired,” he murmurs against your skin, peppering kisses like punctuation. “That your feet would swell. That you’d—fuck, baby, I said stay home.”
You smile, tilting your head just enough to meet his gaze—warm and full of something playful. “I know, but—”
He kisses you.
Soft and certain, his mouth presses to yours before the words can even leave your lips. It’s instinctive, almost impatient, like he couldn’t bear to hear the excuse when you’re standing right here, glowing and breathless and his. His hand curls at the back of your neck, thumb brushing the line of your jaw. You feel him smile into it, lips warm and reverent, like maybe he’s trying to convince himself he’s not dreaming.
You giggle against his mouth.
It bubbles out before you can stop it—light, easy, surprised by your own happiness.
“Hyunjin,” you laugh, gently pushing at his chest. “Let me speak.”
He leans back only a little, just enough to see you again. There’s a smudge of your lip gloss at the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it with your thumb, grinning.
“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur.
Hyunjin pulls back just enough to look at you—really look. His eyes trace every inch of your face like he’s memorizing you all over again. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone. “You take my breath away,” he murmurs, like a confession. “Every damn time.”
You want to say something—something light, something teasing—but the way he’s looking at you leaves no room for irony. Just warmth. Just wonder.
And love. So much of it, it floods the space between you.
His hand slips down, resting over the swell of your stomach, and he sighs when he feels the smallest kick beneath his palm. “Little traitor,” he whispers to your bump, grinning. “You two planned this, didn’t you?”
You feign innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mhm.” He leans in and kisses you again—soft, slow, not quite chaste. Like there’s no one else in the room, no critics still lingering, no gallery full of people pretending not to watch the artist come undone in the arms of his muse.
Eventually, he pulls back—just a little. Just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“Stay?” he asks, almost shy. “I want to show you something. After everyone leaves.”
You nod.
You nod, and his smile deepens—boyish, brilliant, the kind that still makes your knees weak even now. He kisses you one last time, quick and giddy, before reluctantly pulling away with a soft groan, dragging his hand down your arm like he’s tethering himself to you.
“I’ll be quick,” he promises, squeezing your fingers before turning back toward the crowd. “Don’t go into labor while I’m gone.”
You roll your eyes fondly. “No promises.”
He shoots you a look over his shoulder—mock-scandalized, lips twitching with laughter—and then he’s swept back into the flow of guests, nodding politely, shaking hands, answering a few last questions as people begin to drift toward the exit.
You watch from the side, sipping sparkling water from a plastic flute someone handed you, perched on the edge of a velvet bench like you belong in one of his paintings. A few guests glance your way—some with recognition, some with curiosity—but none of them matter.
You only watch him.
And he watches you too—between conversations, between thank-yous and signatures, his gaze keeps sliding back—like a tether, like gravity, like a vow that’s already been made a hundred times in silence.
You smile around the rim of your glass and press a hand to your belly, where the smallest flicker answers back. A quiet reminder of everything the two of you have built in the quiet spaces between the chaos. In the brushstrokes. In the breathing.
The gallery empties slowly, like a tide pulling away from shore. But you stay, bathed in golden light, watching the man you love exist in a room full of people who will never know him like you do. Who will never see the version of him that wakes up sleep-tousled and soft, who talks to your stomach like it already understands him, who paints love into everything he touches because he’s learned how to survive by making beauty out of ache.
Tags: mutual masturbation, porn, closet sex, rough sex, first time together, desperate thrusting, overstimulation, hand over mouth, biting, semi-public sex, stifled moans, creampie, aftershocks, dazed clinging, emotionally intense
Word count: 4.1k
Summary: you’re just his best friend; his open-minded, dangerously close, overly flirty best friend. so when hyunjin tells you he can’t watch porn unless someone else is in the room… you roll your eyes and let him do it. but you don’t expect to stay. you don’t expect to watch. and you definitely don’t expect to end up with his hand around your mouth, legs shaking, his cock deep inside you in a locked closet at a house party four days later.
This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
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You and Hyunjin had always been open with each other.
It was part of the reason your friendship worked — that weird, shameless kind of bond where nothing was off-limits. He could talk to you about anything. You could say things that would’ve made other people flinch, and he’d just laugh, head tipped back, telling you that your brain was his favorite place in the world.
There were no rules. Just you, and him, and the strange little rhythm you’d fallen into over the years. Late-night hangouts, casual sleepovers, the occasional too-long hug when one of you needed something unspoken. No lines ever crossed, but plenty blurred.
So when he asked you to come over that night — casual, chill, just to hang — you didn’t think twice.
You showed up in your usual post-shower state: oversized hoodie, bare legs, the kind of soft cotton underwear that felt like home. His place was warm, clean in a way that said he’d tried to impress you without saying it out loud.
He opened the door, hair messy, smile crooked. “You’re late.”
“You’re lucky I came at all.”
He stuck his tongue out. “You always come when I ask.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping in.
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the quiet intimacy of the night. But somehow, two episodes into whatever trashy dating show you’d landed on, something shifted.
“Do you mind,” Hyunjin said, reaching lazily for his iPad, “if I put something else on?”
You shrugged. “Sure.”
You didn’t expect him to open his browser and pull up porn.
“Hyunjin—”
“Don’t freak out,” he said, like this was totally normal. “I’m not gonna jerk off. Just… I don’t know. I like having it on sometimes.”
You stared at him. “With me right here?”
“That’s the point.”
You blinked.
“I can’t enjoy it when I’m alone,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s not hot unless someone else is in the room. I’m not gonna do anything unless you want me to. I just… I don’t know. It feels less sad this way.”
You stared at him, mouth opening, then closing.
“Hyune,” you said slowly. “That’s not normal.”
He grinned, eyes bright with mischief. “You say that like I’m trying to be normal.”
Your instinct was to say no. To laugh it off. To tell him he was fucking insane and grab your shoes. But you didn’t.
Instead, you sighed, shaking your head, and muttered, “Fine. But you’re not allowed to make this weird.”
“I never make anything weird.”
“That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”
He winked. “And yet… you’re still here.”
⸻
The video was loud. That was the first problem. The moans were high and breathy and clearly real — not the fake, over-the-top stuff that was easy to ignore.
The second problem was Hyunjin himself.
He didn’t just watch it. He felt it. Breathing in these slow, shallow hitches. Sinking back into the pillows like he was alone, even though you were right there.
You weren’t even watching the screen. You were watching him.
His mouth was slightly open. His chest rose and fell under the soft black tee he’d half-tucked into those stupid grey sweatpants — the ones you’d teased him about a thousand times for being too dangerous.
And then… he moved.
Just a shift of the hips at first. Then his hand — long fingers twitching — rested near his thigh. A rub. Absentminded at first. Then another. Slower. Firmer.
Your stomach dipped.
He groaned, soft and low. His head tilted back.
And that sound — fuck, that sound — sent a pulse straight between your legs.
You tried to ignore it. You tried so hard. But your body was already reacting before your brain could process what was happening. Your thighs pressed together. You adjusted your hoodie. You stopped breathing entirely when his eyes flicked toward you and then dropped — low, slow, hungry.
“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse.
You nodded too quickly. “Fine.”
He smiled — a little too knowingly — and exhaled. “Fuck, she sounds like you.”
You blinked. “What?”
“The girl. On the video.” His voice was dreamy, almost dazed. “She moans like you.”
You stared at him. “How would you even know that?”
He looked at you then, eyes dark and shining. “You think I’ve never heard you?”
Your skin went hot. “Hyunjin—”
“I wasn’t trying to. But you always leave your door cracked. And sometimes I’d just be passing by and then… you’d make this sound. Like you didn’t know how to stop yourself.”
You opened your mouth to say something — anything — but then he moaned again. This time because of you. He was hard now. Very visibly hard.
“God,” he whispered. “Why is this so much hotter with you here?”
You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
Your body was buzzing. Your underwear damp. And every inch of space between you suddenly felt razor-thin, unbearable.
“Touch yourself,” he said, almost breathless.
You shook your head, barely.
He leaned in, voice low. “Please.”
You swallowed. “Why?”
“Because I need it,” he said, groaning again as he pressed into his palm. “And I don’t want to be the only one.”
His eyes flicked to your legs.
“You’re turned on.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” His voice was firmer now. “I can see it. The way your thighs are clenched. The way you’re breathing.”
You looked away. He reached out, gently brushing your knee.
“Look at me.”
You did.
“I swear,” he said, “I’ll stop if you tell me to. But if you want this even a little… just stay.”
You exhaled. Shaky. Unsure. Wet.
And you stayed. Neither of you said anything for a long moment.
The porn still played softly in the background, but it was just noise now — the tension in the room had turned so dense it pressed in on your skin like heat, like breath.
Hyunjin dragged his bottom lip between his teeth and exhaled slowly through his nose. His hand hadn’t left his lap.
You were still watching him.
And he was watching you watching him.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, voice hoarse.
Your chest tightened. “No.”
That was all he needed.
He shifted closer, just barely, and let out a sound — low, needy — as he rolled his hips against his palm. The motion was subtle, but it jolted through you like lightning. He rubbed again, slow, firm, a deliberate drag of pressure down the thick line in his sweatpants.
Your thighs clenched instinctively. You were soaked. You could feel it — the press of cotton against slick skin, the fluttering ache that had been growing steadily in your core from the moment he started moaning.
He looked drunk off it. His mouth was open, panting softly. His eyes flicked over your face, down your body, then back to your eyes.
“Touch yourself,” he said again, quieter this time. “I want to see what you look like when you’re needy.”
You let out a breath that trembled.
Your hand moved before your mind could stop it — sliding under the hem of your hoodie, then beneath the waistband of your underwear. Hyunjin’s eyes followed every inch.
“Oh my god” he whispered.
Your fingers dipped into yourself. Soaked.
Your breath hitched hard.
Hyunjin groaned — loud, ragged — and dropped his head back against the headboard, his hand now gripping the full length of his cock over his sweats. The bulge was thick and heavy, straining the fabric.
You moaned — quietly, shakily — and he snapped his eyes open.
“Say something,” he begged. “Tell me what you feel like.”
“I’m wet,” you whispered, eyes closing. “I’ve never been this wet just from watching someone.”
That made him gasp.
“God—fuck—” He shoved his sweatpants down just enough to free himself, and suddenly you couldn’t look away.
He was long, flushed red at the tip, already glistening with pre-cum.
You whimpered.
His eyes fluttered shut at the sound.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “You know that? Just—so fucking pretty when you touch yourself like that. Show me more.”
You moved your fingers again, slow and deliberate, spreading the slickness and brushing over your clit. Your hips arched subtly into the motion, breath stuttering.
Hyunjin watched like a man starved.
“I want to taste you,” he said suddenly, voice broken. “Fuck—I want my face between your legs so bad.”
Your whole body shuddered.
He jerked himself once, twice — not fast, but hard. Focused. Like he was trying to memorize the way it felt while staring at you.
You moaned again, louder this time. Embarrassed at how fast your body was unraveling.
“I’ve thought about this before,” he confessed, still stroking. “Not like this exactly. But… you. Under me. Wet and panting. Saying my name.”
You bit your lip, fingers moving faster now. “I didn’t think we’d ever—”
“Me neither,” he whispered. “But now I don’t even want to stop.”
The air was charged, burning.
You were close. So close it was making your knees tremble.
Hyunjin leaned in again, his free hand brushing against your thigh as if asking for permission.
You didn’t stop him.
His lips were inches from your ear when he whispered, “Let me help.”
You paused. Swallowed.
He watched you — tense, hopeful, ruined — until you nodded.
And then… the shift happened.
Hyunjin slipped his hand down, fingers brushing yours under the band of your underwear. You gasped, but didn’t pull away. He cupped you gently, middle finger sliding through the mess you’d made.
“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”
Your head dropped against his shoulder.
“You made me like this,” you breathed.
“Yeah?” he said, voice shaking. “You like watching me stroke my cock for you?”
You whimpered again. “Yes—fuck, yes.”
He slid his finger in, slow and deep, while still stroking himself with the other hand. You cried out, biting down on your hoodie sleeve as he moved inside you, curling slightly.
“Come for me,” he said, lips against your temple. “Please. I want to see you fall apart.”
It didn’t take long.
Your body clenched tight, the pressure building sharp and sudden until it broke — heat flooding you from the inside out, your voice catching as you gasped and ground against his hand.
Hyunjin let out a desperate groan and came right after you, hot and heavy against his stomach, chest rising in ragged breaths as his hips jerked through the last few strokes.
You both collapsed sideways into the pillows, breathing hard, sweaty, trembling.
For a moment, it was quiet.
Then—
“That was…” you began, voice wrecked.
“I know.” He laughed, still panting. “I know.”
You turned your head to look at him. His hair was a mess. His lips were red. His eyes were soft now — not teasing, not smug. Just open.
“That didn’t feel casual,” you whispered.
His gaze dropped to your mouth.
“No,” he said. “It didn’t.”
You didn’t know what would come next.
⸻
The worst part wasn’t what happened between you.
It was the silence after.
The way everything between you and Hyunjin felt louder because no one was talking about it.
You’d spent the last three nights pretending that orgasm hadn’t happened. That your fingers hadn’t tangled with his. That he hadn’t whispered I want to taste you while stroking himself, eyes on your mouth.
You didn’t talk about it. You couldn’t.
But the tension between you? You may as well have been shouting.
He sat closer now. Looked longer. He didn’t tease like he used to — not playfully, not harmlessly. Now every glance had heat. Every brush of skin felt intentional.
So when Jisung shouted across the living room, “Let’s play hide and seek — losers get a punishment dare,” you already knew something was going to go wrong.
Because you and Hyunjin couldn’t be trusted anymore.
⸻
You didn’t even plan to hide in the closet.
You were laughing, breathless, the count ticking down — Ten! Nine! Eight! — and you darted around a corner in the hallway looking for literally anywhere to disappear.
The closet door was cracked open.
You pushed in and—
“Shit—!”
A hand reached out to yank you the rest of the way in.
Hyunjin.
He shoved the door closed behind you both, muffling your gasp, then exhaled hard against your ear.
You were chest to chest. Pressed flush to him. The closet was barely the size of a broom closet — coats brushing your cheeks, the smell of old cedar, the wood beneath your bare feet cool from the tile.
“Seriously?” you whispered, half-giggling. “You’re here?”
“You ran into me,” he hissed. “Be quiet—”
Footsteps passed in the hallway. The sound of someone shouting: “Not in the bathroom!”
You both stilled.
And then you started laughing.
Quiet, breathy little giggles that made your shoulders shake. His hands were on your hips now, steadying you, his face so close you could feel his mouth twitch into a smile.
“Shhh,” he whispered, amused. “You’re gonna get us caught.”
“It’s your fault,” you whispered back.
“Yeah?” His breath ghosted your cheek. “Pretty sure it’s yours.”
Your back hit the wall as you shifted to give him room. But there was no room. Nowhere to go.
His thigh brushed up between yours. Your knee bent just slightly.
And that’s when you felt it.
The slow, unmistakable press of something hard against your hip.
You froze.
Hyunjin did, too.
“Hyunjin—?” you whispered.
He didn’t answer right away. His breath had turned shallow, his forehead dropping forward slightly to rest against the wall beside your head.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I can’t help it.”
His voice was low. Strained. Honest.
You swallowed.
It didn’t feel like a joke. It didn’t even feel like a dare. It just… was. Real. Present. Pressed right up against you.
The memory of that night came rushing back — the way he gasped when you moaned, the wet sound of your bodies moving in sync, the look in his eyes when he touched you like it meant something.
And now you were here.
Too close. Too warm. Your short dress had ridden up when he pulled you in, and your bare legs were brushing his sweatpants with every shaky inhale.
You should’ve moved away.
You didn’t.
Instead, you whispered, “This is dangerous.”
He nodded. Barely. “I know.”
Your hands were on his chest, fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt. His hands still sat heavy on your hips. Neither of you were breathing quite right.
And then—you shifted.
Just the smallest movement. An unconscious roll of your hips as you tried to balance.
And Hyunjin let out the quietest, shattered groan.
Your stomach dropped.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered.
“Do what?” But your voice was thinner now.
“That.”
You did it again. Just to be sure. The press of your core against him was slow, experimental — your thin underwear the only barrier between your body and the thick, hard line of his cock beneath his sweats.
He whined.
Low, soft, desperate.
His forehead dropped to your shoulder. You felt him tremble.
“You can’t grind on me like that,” he breathed.
“You were already hard.”
“And now you’re already wet.”
The words punched the breath out of your lungs.
You didn’t say anything — couldn’t — and instead let yourself roll against him again, slowly this time, hips rocking once more into his.
His mouth dropped open. You felt it brush your skin.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he groaned.
The coats swayed faintly beside you as he gently pressed you back into the wall, his hands tightening at your waist, thumbs brushing under the edge of your dress.
You gasped quietly as he rocked up into you, the friction too good, too familiar.
“I think about it every night,” he whispered, like it hurt. “The way you sound when you come. How soft you were. How hot your hand felt over mine.”
You were burning.
Your body responded before your mind did — rocking again, your arms slipping up around his neck to muffle a soft, stuttering moan into his shoulder.
He cursed under his breath.
Then he stilled. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his.
“Tell me to stop,” he said.
You didn’t.
Instead, you leaned in — your lips brushing his, breath against breath, heart in your throat.
And that’s when the closet door creaked.
“Anyone in here?” someone called.
You and Hyunjin froze.
Your mouth hovered over his.
Neither of you moved. Neither of you dared.
The door didn’t open.
Footsteps passed.
And the second you were alone again, Hyunjin exhaled.
You were still catching your breath when you heard it.
The soft click of the inside lock.
Hyunjin had turned the tiny latch on the closet door — sealing you both inside.
Your eyes darted to his, wide, breathless, heart kicking.
“What are you doing—?”
But he was already shifting you, gentle but firm.
Turning you in the dark, pressing your front to the wall of the closet, your palms flat against the wood paneling, your chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.
His voice came at your ear, low and wrecked. “I can’t pretend anymore.”
His hands slid up your thighs — slow, reverent, shaking slightly — fingers brushing the hem of your dress, pushing it higher until it was bunched around your hips.
You gasped when you felt it — the warm weight of his cock, thick and flushed, freed from his sweats and nestled right in the crease of your thighs. Hot, hard skin against the damp cotton of your panties.
“Hyunjin—” You tried to say something. Anything.
But then he rocked forward.
And your mind blanked.
The first thrust wasn’t deep, wasn’t precise — just a desperate press of his cock between your thighs, dragging the thick head right along your clothed pussy.
You whimpered.
Your knees nearly buckled.
His breath left him in a shaky hiss. “Holy fuck—”
You didn’t realize you were moving until you were rocking back against him — instinctive, helpless — meeting every slow rut of his hips with the arch of your spine.
The friction was perfect.
Each thrust of his cock between your thighs rubbed right against your clit through the soaked fabric. It felt filthy. Overwhelming. Like a fever dream you didn’t dare wake up from.
And then his mouth was on your neck.
Hot, open, wet kisses down your jaw, your pulse, his tongue tasting your skin like he’d wanted to for years. His hands grabbed your hips, greedy now, pulling you tighter against him with every roll of his body.
You were panting, trembling, moaning softly into the wall with every pass of his cock between your slick thighs.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice unraveling, “you feel so—shit—so soft.”
You turned your head, breath shallow, eyes finding his in the dark.
“Hyunjin,” you whispered.
His mouth crashed into yours before the word could fully leave you.
It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t careful.
It was desperate.
Tongue and teeth, lips parted, mouths gasping against each other like this kiss had been trapped between you for years. Like he was starving for it. Like you’d never survive it.
You grabbed at his hair. He groaned into your mouth.
His hand slid up your front, fingers curling under the fabric of your dress, and suddenly he was palming your breast — rough, hungry, his thumb brushing your nipple through the lace of your bra.
You arched into his hand.
He bit your lip.
You whined, trembling, your voice cracking. “I need you.”
He froze.
Your words hung in the air — too raw, too loud, too real.
Then he growled, deep in his chest.
And his hand moved.
Down your stomach. Past the waistband of your underwear. Two fingers slid through your soaked slit and came away dripping.
He hissed, whispering something under his breath you couldn’t catch.
Then he hooked his fingers under your thong — pulled it aside.
And you felt him.
The head of his cock, hot and heavy, slipping between your folds. Your knees nearly gave out.
“Are you sure?” he breathed. “Fuck—tell me.”
You didn’t hesitate.
“Yes. Please—”
He didn’t wait another second.
He gripped your hip, braced a hand on the wall beside your head, and with a single smooth thrust, sank into you.
You gasped — loud and broken.
He groaned like it hurt.
Like he’d been dreaming of this for too fucking long.
You could barely breathe.
He filled you so completely you felt split open. Every inch of him slid deep, hot and thick, your body clenching around him like it had been aching for this—like it knew him.
Hyunjin stayed still at first.
Forehead to your shoulder, panting, hand tight on your hip like he was trying to ground himself.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel like heaven.”
You whined — a low, raw sound — hips rolling back into him, your fingers scraping the wall for anything to hold on to.
That was all it took.
His restraint snapped.
His hips drew back.
And then he started fucking you.
It wasn’t slow anymore.
It wasn’t careful.
It was frantic, overwhelming, wet — the obscene slap of skin-on-skin muffled only slightly by the coats around you, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs with each thrust.
You tried to be quiet. You really did.
But every time his cock drove into you, you couldn’t stop the moans — breathy and soft at first, then high and frantic as his pace picked up.
And when a louder gasp escaped your mouth—
His hand clamped over it.
Large, warm, shaking fingers curled across your lips, muffling the helpless sounds spilling from you as he pounded into you from behind.
You whimpered into his palm.
His voice broke right beside your ear. “I’m sorry, baby—I need you quiet—can’t let them hear—”
You nodded. Barely.
But your body was shaking. Your walls fluttering around him. And Hyunjin knew you were close.
So he got mean.
Rougher.
He slammed into you harder, his cock dragging across all the right spots, your thighs trembling from the pressure of each thrust — and the filthiest part? You were soaked. The squelch of your cunt around him was wet and loud and pornographic, and it only made him fuck you harder.
You bit down.
Hard.
Right into the base of his palm as his hand stayed tight over your mouth.
He groaned, bucking into you like it drove him insane.
“Shit—fuck, just like that—”
He lost rhythm for a second, stuttering into you, hand slipping from your mouth to your throat, thumb under your jaw to tilt your head back, mouth against your skin again.
Then he bit down.
His teeth sank into the soft curve of your shoulder as he buried himself deep, his moans muffled into your skin.
You swore you blacked out for a second.
You couldn’t tell which way was up anymore — just the overwhelming drag of his cock, the heat in your belly, the white-noise roar in your ears as your orgasm crept higher, hotter, inevitable.
“Fuck—Hyunjin—I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—”
You came with a cry into his wrist, your whole body spasming.
Everything snapped — the pressure, the tension, the weeks of unsaid things between you, all of it boiling over in that moment as you fell apart on his cock.
He barely held it together.
You felt him twitch inside you, pace faltering, his voice falling to ragged, desperate whimpers.
“Fuckfuckfuck—oh my god, I’m gonna—can I—inside—?”
You nodded, dazed. “Yes—yes, please—”
One more thrust. Deep. Hot.
And he came with a bitten-off moan into your neck, his body jerking hard as he spilled into you — thick, hot spurts of cum painting your insides, his cock buried deep as he rode out every last pulse, twitching and trembling.
You slumped forward, boneless.
His arms caught you. Held you there.
Both of you breathing like you’d run miles. Sweaty. Shaking. Still joined, still stuffed full.
The closet spun in silence.
And when his hand finally fell from your mouth, you whispered — voice shot, lips swollen —
“…We can’t ever just be friends again, can we?”
And Hyunjin, still inside you, kissed your shoulder like it was a promise.
“No,” he said. “We’re so fucked.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Authors note: HIIIIIIIIII!!!! Breakfast is served (or lunch or dinner lol) 😂 personally i think this is the filthiest hyunjin fic i have written… right? I cant even remember lol! So i got that closet idea from this edit… saw it and my brain short-circuited 😭🫠❤️ And now we are here!
Give this a lot of love! Also update; i have officially started writing my first original novel 🥹 ahhhhh
Ve’s note - drunk (as usual) and in a headspace . minsung has a hold on me i can’t get out of . need to be in between them really bad . anyway here’s a drabble . just bf thoughts something simple . nsfw mdni !!
minsung who always make sure one of them is with you . no matter where you are or plan to go . they just can’t bother the thought of you feeling lonely . when it’s both of them minho is always on your right and jisung on your left . sheilding you from anything that’s could harm or disturbs your peace .
minsung who takes you out clubbing because they know how much you love to dance . your body between them as you sway to whatever song is playing . jisung’s just as drunk as you . lathering kisses and praises in your skin as he pushes you further into minho . who withholds from drinking but gets caught up in the way his lovers are drunkenly feeling each other up .
minsung who buys you whatever you want . shopping with them is always fun . you and jisung playing fashion show while minho observes with a smile on his face . and if he’s feeling playful he’ll let you to dress him up like a doll .
minsung who loves you harder than anyone ever has . jisung dedicating song after song to his lovers as they make his heart full . minho choreographing to said songs . putting on a show only for you .
minsung who feel they can be themselves around you . as loud or as quiet as they want . you three can stay inside and have just as must fun as if you were out in the town . life is never dull but always comfortable .
minsung who take the time to teach you al the ways you can feel pleasure . guiding you safely into waters you never thought you would tread . minho and jisung who mark you up . letting everyone know that you are well taken care of .
♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’
sorta proofread
Kinktober Schedule
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”
“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.
“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.
“Thank-” “On one condition.”
“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.
“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.
“I have something in mind…”
“Open the fuck up.”
His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.
He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.
“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin.
“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.
Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.
“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.
He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.
His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.
His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.
It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.
“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.
“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”
“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.
“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.
This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”
He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.
So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.
It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.
He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.
“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.
He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”
“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”
“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.
The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.
“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.
Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”
You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.
“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.
He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.
“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”
A/N: this is part two obviously, since it was requested I continue this, I still have no one to beta read this filth lol. anyways i hope this is okay because my ass is in fact very inexperienced lolol. pick up right where i left off so go read the first part.
part 1 | warm hands and a lack of subtlety
Changbin steps away from you and Seungmin. As his warmth leaves you both, Seungmin pulls himself up on his arms, his arm wraps around your waist, rolling you under him. Your faces inches apart, he leans into you, lips brushing against your ear.
“God, puppy,” his tongue pokes out as he makes his way down your neck. His hands grasping at your hips.
Steps indicate Changbin is back, he doesn’t waste any time, his pants hit the floor with a thud, and he’s back on the bed. He’s quick to shed his shirt, while Seungmin is completely focused on you, his hand previously on your hip running down your body, groping your ass. His eyes look at you glistened over, as he brings your hips to his. His hand slithers under your bottoms, lifting your hips ever so slightly to slip them off, as soon as he throws them across the room, two hands grab his waist, slipping his own pants off. His belt clanks on the floor.
Changbin takes advantage of the separation between you and the puppy-boy, to run his hands on the other boy’s chest and shed his shirt. Watching you over the younger man’s shoulder practically devouring you with his eyes. Your tongue runs over your lips, before you make quick work of your top too. The gym rat tosses you the lube he had left to fetch onto the bed, hands moving to keep the smaller boy still, before pushing him to settle between your open legs.
Seungmin settles between your legs, breathing warm against your inner thigh as he mouths a path downwards, slow and teasing. His fingers dig into the soft of your hips like he’s trying to brand you, pulling you closer with each kiss.
“Still acting like you don’t like this,” he murmurs, lips brushing too close and not close enough. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”
Changbin’s fingers trace your jaw, tilting your face toward him. He watches every flicker of pleasure across your features with something like reverence, even as his thumb brushes your lower lip. He presses two fingers past your lips, smirking when you take them easily, instinctively.
“You’re always so eager, baby,” he hums. “All that bratty talk… just for show, huh?” His free hand settles on your thigh, prying your legs apart for your boyfriend. “Don’t mind me,” he murmurs, mouth ghosting over your skin, “just keep your eyes on him”
Seungmin huffs a laugh against your thigh. “She’s not going anywhere,” he says, but his grip tightens on your legs, just to prove a point. “She loves this too much.”
You whimper when Changbin’s teeth graze just beneath your jaw, the vibration of a low chuckle between your legs only making it worse.
“Still want to pretend you’re not loving this?” Seungmin taunts, his free hand sliding up your bare thigh, stopping just shy of where you need him. “Or are you ready to behave now?”
You bite your lip, stubborn, breath coming out shaky. “You didn’t say please,” you whisper, just to rile him up.
Seungmin growls, not playful this time, and lowering his mouth to your heat. “You’re going to regret that,” he mutters darkly.
Changbin pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your breast, grin on his face. Changbin’s hands move to hold your hips steady as he presses a kiss just above your core, breathing you in like you’re his favorite reward.
“No, she won’t,” he says, voice thick and reverent. “She lives for this.” His breath and Min’s merge into one as it hits your skin. Seungmin presses a kiss on your clit before moving down to your entrance, he groans when your slick hits his tongue. Your buff bunny moves to kiss you, tongue meddling with yours as he tangles one hand into Seungmin's hair pulling the boy’s face closer to your core. Another groan escapes the boy, the vibrations running up through your body.
Seungmin groans again, more desperate this time, starving for the taste of you. His tongue slides through your folds, speeding up, more deliberate. He’s focused, obsessive, like he’s got something to prove. He knows Changbin’s watching, and knows your moans aren’t just for him. He whimpers quietly as he ruts against your foot from his place on the floor.
Changbin’s lips never leave yours for long. He kisses you through every gasp, every whimper, occasionally breaking away to murmur, “That’s it, pretty girl.”
Your thighs try to close around Seungmin’s head when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard. He growls against you, forcing your legs wider, holding you down like he wants to ruin you.
“She’s close,” Changbin says, voice thick with pride, watching your whole body tense under their touch. “You feel that, Min? You’re gonna make her cum just like this.”
“Already?” Seungmin lifts his head just long enough to smirk, chin slick. “You’re so sensitive tonight, puppy.”
You don’t get the chance to respond, he dives back in. His mouth moves fast, tongue circling and flicking your clit in just the way he knows you like, and the pressure builds fast, almost unbearable.
Changbin cradles your face, watching the way your eyes flutter. “Don’t hold back,” he whispers, lips brushing your cheek. “Let go. Let him have it.”
With a cry that breaks through your lips, thighs trembling, one hand tangled in Seungmin’s hair as the orgasm crashes through you.
Seungmin doesn’t stop until your body jerks from overstimulation, and even then, he presses one last kiss to your inner thigh, looking thoroughly smug.
“Don’t look so smug, pup, I can feel you humping my leg,” you pant out, smirking back at him.
Seungmin’s still catching his breath, eyes glazed over, face flushed,and soaked in your slick, when Changbin pulls him up by the back of the neck. “Get up here,” he mutters and Seungmin moves without hesitation, crawling up the bed between your legs. He’s full on grinning at the older boy’s rough touch. Perv…
You’re still panting, sensitive and spent, but it’s not nearly enough. Not when Seungmin’s cock brushes against your inner thigh, heavy and aching. Not when Changbin settles behind him, one hand on his shoulder, the other wrapped around the lube bottle.
“Go slow,” he says, guiding Seungmin’s hips forward with one hand and slicking him up with the other. “She just came, she’s sensitive. Be good for her.”
Seungmin groans, his forehead pressing to yours, hips twitching forward as he lines himself up. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, but his voice shakes, desperate. He pushes in, slow, so slow, and you both gasp at the stretch. Your nails dig into his arms, and Changbin’s hand wraps around Seungmin’s throat from behind, steadying him.
“That’s it,” Changbin growls, fingers tightening just enough to make Seungmin gasp. “Feel her. Fucking heaven, right?”
Seungmin nods frantically, hips stuttering forward again as he buries himself inside you. “Fuck, she’s so warm, fuck-”
“Watch your mouth,” Changbin chides, tightening his grip. “You cum too fast and I’ll have to punish you. Princess had a point earlier… You’re showing off how much of a pervert you are to Stay… Maybe I should be punishing you instead of helping you feel good.”
Your breath hitches at the threat, at the way Seungmin shudders in response, held between you and Changbin like a toy for both of you to use. God, as much as you love mean Bin, something about desperate Seungmin scratches an itch, his there was you clenching around the boy’s cock.
“You feel how deep he is, baby?” Changbin’s voice is right at your ear now, his fingers slipping between your legs to stroke your clit. “He can’t stop shaking. Think he’s gonna make it?”
Seungmin whines, hips snapping harder, more desperate now, chasing the tight heat of you.
You moan, legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “Please, please—” you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore.
Changbin’s lips brush your temple, smug. “That’s it, baby. Look at that. You’re wrecking him… He looks so pretty like this, don't you think?” Bin smiles into your shoulder, watching Seungmin’s breath speed up as he approaches his release.
“Not yet,” Changbin warns, pulling Seungmin’s hips back with one arm around his waist. “You don’t get to finish before she does.”
Seungmin gasps, trying to fuck back into you, but Changbin tightens his grip and pulls—forcing him to slip out of you with a wet sound that makes all three of you moan.
“Hyung-” Seungmin protests weakly, shaking, already missing your heat “Please…”.
Changbin doesn’t respond with words, just manhandles the younger boy onto his back, pushing him flat against the pillows. “You wanna cum?” he asks, voice low and rough as he grabs you by the hips. “You’re gonna take it like this. Watch me fuck her.”
You let out a shaky breath as Changbin bends you over Seungmin’s lap, one hand splayed over the smaller boy’s chest to keep him down, the other lining himself up behind you. You’re soaked, still dripping from your last orgasm and Seungmin’s cock, Changbin’s cock is thicker than the other boy’s but it takes nothing for him to slide in.
You cry out, loud and high-pitched, as the stretch hits you all over again, Changbin’s thick length pushing deep with a grunt.
“Fuck,” he hisses, burying himself to the hilt. “Still so tight after all that? You really were made for this.”
Seungmin groans beneath you, his cockpresses against your stomach,, as Changbin fucks into you, trapped between your bodies. “Please- please let me-”, the fiction is driving him insane.
Changbin doesn’t let up. He sets a punishing pace, hips snapping against your ass as he fucks you into Seungmin, the friction between your bodies delicious, unbearable.
“Such a good girl,” he pants, hand tangling in your hair to pull your head back. “Taking care of both of us like this. Doesn’t he look so cute all teary”
Seungmin whimpers, breath coming in stuttering gasps. “Can’t hold it-”
Your body tightens, every nerve ending burning, building to the edge as his cock hits that perfect spot over and over. You reach for Minnie’s hand, fingers grasping blindly at anything to anchor you.
“Fuck- I’m gonna-”
“That’s it,” Changbin snarls, pounding into you harder, faster. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess on our puppy”
Your orgasm rips through you like fire. You scream, clenching down hard, body shaking as you cum around him. That’s all it takes… Seungmin lets out a broken cry, cock jerking against your stomach as he cums between your bodies.
Changbin fucks you through it all, pulling out at the last second. He strokes himself once, twice, holding your cheeks apart, before spilling across your ass with a moan.
For a moment, no one moves, just the sound of your breathing, the feel of three bodies tangled and spent.
Seungmin struggles to keep his eyes open and you move to peck his lips. You barely register Changbin getting up to fetch something to get cleaned up. He kneels between you and Seungmin, focused only on cleaning you both up. Every touch is soft now, his earlier dominance faded.
“You good, Min?” he murmurs, his concern heavy beneath the teasing edge.
Seungmin hums, sleepily smug. “Never better.”
“You’re half-melted,” Changbin says, smiling into the nape of Seungmin’s neck as he plants a soft kiss there, slipping into bed with you both, then glances over at you. “And you? Still feel like being bratty, or did we get that out of your system?”
You groan, flopping on his chest dramatically. “Wasn’t the only one being bratty.”
“That’s not a no,” Seungmin snarks, which earns him a light swat from Changbin.
vampire!bang chan x reader | “you gave him your blood. he took your soul with it.”
🔞synopsis: You signed the contract. Gave your blood. Agreed to his terms. He promised protection, pleasure, and power. What he didn’t tell you? The contract never ends. You weren’t just a blood doll. You were chosen. And Bang Chan doesn’t share what’s his—not your body, not your blood, not your soul.
💌a/n: i blacked out. this is what happens when you play Cabernet and then think “what if bang chan was a vampire who tied me up, drank my blood, and fucked me until i forgot my name?”
🩸 he’s not your dom, he’s your religion.
🩸 you didn’t sign a contract—you surrendered.
🩸 yes, you came when he fed. no, you’re not okay.
those who know me know i can’t run into smut directly, so yes—there’s a bit of background first :3 consider it the slow poison before the bite. this one’s for the bloodlust girlies. the silk tie sluts. the “bite me harder, please” crowd.
p.s. hope you brought holy water.
p.s.s. rate, scream, moan in the tags. i’ll be watching.
⚠️ warnings: NSFW (18+) — bloodplay, biting kink, body worship, orgasm control, bondage (silk restraints), overstimulation, edging, marking, possessiveness, creampie, vampire feeding-as-foreplay, rough sex, filthy talk, praise + light degradation, dom!chan energy, sensory overload, manipulation kink, claiming/mating themes, emotionally manipulative tenderness™, aftercare that hits too hard, consent framed as control, he bites you and you come. you said “i can handle it.” he said “prove it.”
🎶now playing: "Red Lights" — Bang Chan & Hyunjin
📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune
🩸 background
CAST
Vampire!Bang Chan
Ancient, but looks late 20s. Charismatic. Seductive. Deeply calculating.
Keeps up the façade of elegance, control, and civility—but beneath it lies an animalistic hunger.
Treats his blood dolls like precious, exclusive possessions.
You? His last. The only one he’s ever signed a lifetime contract with.
He feeds slow. He fucks slower. But when he snaps? There’s no going back.
Reader (Blood Doll!You)
You signed the contract voluntarily—but not just for the money.
Maybe you were running from something. Maybe you were drawn to the dark.
You’re inexperienced with vampires. This is your first arrangement.
You said it was a business deal. He knew better.
Your body begged the first time he bit you.
🩸what is a blood doll?
A blood doll is a human who willingly offers their blood—and sometimes their body—to a vampire, bound by a formal contract.
In return, they’re protected, housed, and cared for financially, emotionally, physically.
It’s supposed to be a mutual exchange.
But when the vampire is Bang Chan… it becomes obsession.
Control.
A covenant.
The elevator doors opened with a hush, spilling dim light across polished black marble. You stepped out, heels clicking softly like the tick of a countdown.
The penthouse was silent.
Not empty—waiting.
Everything gleamed: obsidian floors, dark glass walls streaked with rain, gold accents warm against shadows. The air was scented faintly with something ancient—wine, cedar, and blood just barely gone dry. It didn’t smell unpleasant. It smelled like a memory you weren’t sure was yours.
He stood at the far end of the room, one hand resting on the back of a high-backed chair, the other cradling a glass of something red and viscous. He wasn’t dressed like a monster. He wore tailored black trousers, a silk shirt undone just enough to tease the curve of his collarbone, and no shoes. Just him—barefoot in his own cathedral.
Bang Chan looked up at you, and the world seemed to still for a breath.
"You’re punctual." His voice came low, warm, and polished with civility. But the cadence was too slow, too careful—like someone used to commanding rooms with silence, not volume. "Good."
You nodded, throat tight. “You said midnight.”
"I did." His mouth curled, sharp and soft at once. “And here you are. Come. Sit.”
The table was long and dark, minimalist, with a single folder placed at the center like a relic. When you lowered yourself into the chair opposite him, your legs barely brushed the underside before you crossed them tightly, trying not to look tense. But you were. Your skin buzzed with it. Not fear. Not exactly. Something older, hungrier.
“I assume you read the terms,” he said, setting his glass down with a soft clink.
You nodded again. “Twice.”
“Mmm. Still”—he reached forward, flipping open the folder with elegant fingers—“I like to go over the finer details… in person.”
The contract looked deceptively simple: black ink, pristine paper, heavy with embossed lettering and a dark red wax seal. Legal, binding. Intimate. You scanned it again, though you could recite most of it by now.
Clause 3: The Vampire shall provide financial, medical, and physical support to the Doll at all times during the bond.
Clause 7: Feeding shall occur with full verbal consent. In absence of consent, no feeding is permitted.
Clause 9: Sexual contact is optional. However, if initiated by either party, it must be fulfilled within safe and agreed-upon parameters. Withdrawal is permitted, but rare.
Clause 11: A Doll who offers themselves for long-term service is to be protected as a permanent asset.
You paused at Clause 9.
“...Sexual contact is optional,” you said aloud, almost skeptical.
Chan’s eyes didn’t move from yours. “Technically.”
You raised a brow.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “That clause was added after a rather… messy disagreement in Vienna. Some dolls think they can offer blood without intimacy. Some vampires agree. I don’t.”
You swallowed. “You mean you won’t feed unless—”
“No.” A beat. “I mean I’ve never wanted to separate them. Blood is pleasure. Pain is trust. Sex is… currency.” He tilted his head. “What are you willing to give to be kept?”
The silence draped over your shoulders like velvet. His words should’ve chilled you. But they didn’t. Instead, your skin prickled. Your thighs pressed a little tighter. You hated that he noticed.
“Let me see your wrist.”
You hesitated.
His eyes didn’t waver. There was no impatience in them—just certainty. Hunger, tucked behind a glassy calm.
You extended your arm, pulse fluttering like a ribbon in the wind.
Chan took your wrist with a gentleness that was worse than roughness. Reverent. He held it between both hands, thumb brushing the vein just beneath the skin. You swore you could feel his fingers in places he hadn’t touched yet.
“Hmm,” he said quietly. His voice dropped, low and rasped. “You’re trembling already.”
You hated that he was right. Hated that your heart had started pounding the moment you stepped into his domain. And he could hear it—you knew he could hear it.
“It’s not fear,” you said, too quickly.
“Oh, I know,” he whispered. “It’s anticipation.”
He released you, slow as syrup.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Chan reached for a fountain pen—black with a silver serpent wrapped around the barrel—and set it beside the parchment. “Go ahead,” he said, voice rich like candle smoke. “If you’re ready to surrender. If you’re ready to be mine.”
Your fingers wrapped around the pen. You wrote your name in long, fluid strokes—first name, middle, last, like signing your soul away required formality. The ink glided, but just as you lifted the tip from the page, it snagged—slightly. A prickle. Then warmth.
You hissed softly, looking down.
A drop of your blood rolled down your finger and splattered right at the base of your signature. Small. Bright. Stark red against the cream paper.
Chan’s chair creaked as he stood.
He leaned over the table, one hand braced beside the contract, the other reaching out—but not to you. Just the paper. His fingertip grazed the blood, collecting the crimson bead, then lifted it slowly to his lips.
He tasted it.
And closed his eyes.
“…You bleed beautifully,” he said, almost reverent.
When his gaze returned to yours, it was darker. Deeper. “No turning back now,” he murmured.
The signature was barely dry when Chan’s voice sliced through the quiet. “Come,” he said, stepping away from the table and beckoning you with a single finger. “We’ll begin tonight.”
You blinked. “Tonight?”
He turned his head slightly, a half-smile curving his lips. “Why wait? Your blood’s already calling to me. I can hear it… humming under your skin.”
You stood, slowly. Legs steady, voice not so much. “I thought the first feeding was scheduled—”
“I changed the schedule.” His eyes dropped to your neck. “You’ll find I do that often.”
He didn’t lead you to a sterile feeding room or a clinical space with straps and silver tools. No, he brought you to what looked like a bedroom. If vampires even slept. The space was soft with shadows—curtains drawn, the faint glow of amber sconces casting flickers across the walls. A plush velvet chaise rested near the window, flanked by shelves full of antique books and empty crystal decanters.
He gestured to the chaise. “Sit.”
You obeyed.
Chan knelt in front of you—not rushed, not showy. Just deliberate. Like a priest at a private altar. His hands, still cool from the glass he’d held earlier, gently took your knees and parted them enough for him to slot between. It was chaste. For now.
“I’ll be gentle,” he said, brushing hair back from your neck with the backs of his fingers. “Unless you want it rough.”
Your breath hitched. He smiled.
“I thought so.”
He studied your throat like it was scripture. The pad of his thumb pressed lightly under your jaw—tilting your head, exposing the fragile, thumping line beneath your skin. His gaze sharpened.
“Heartbeat’s racing again,” he whispered. “Such a pretty tempo.”
You tried to speak, but your voice had vanished somewhere behind your teeth.
“Relax,” he murmured, “I won’t take too much. Just enough to make us… connected.”
You felt his lips first. They brushed against your pulse in a whisper-soft kiss, reverent and maddening. Then—the scrape of fangs.
Not sharp. Not yet. Just a threat.
“I need you to say it,” he said, voice vibrating against your skin. “Consent. Give it to me.”
You swallowed hard. “I consent.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I… I want you to feed from me, Chan.”
His eyes fluttered closed. The sound of his name on your tongue did something to him. When they opened again, they weren’t just dark. They were hungry.
And then—he bit you.
It wasn’t a stab. It was an invasion dressed as intimacy. The pressure sank in slowly, coaxing your skin apart, followed by a bloom of sharp heat. Your body arched without permission. A sound slipped from your throat—too soft to be a cry, too desperate to be a sigh.
Chan groaned against your neck.
You felt his mouth moving—drinking—his tongue sweeping across the punctures with devastating control. His hands gripped your thighs now, not rough but anchoring, grounding you while your body dissolved. Your pulse thundered in your ears, but your head felt light, floaty, distant.
Heat pooled low in your belly.
Your hips shifted without thinking.
That’s when he pulled back.
Blood glossed his lips—your blood. He licked them slowly, as if savouring the last drop of a rare vintage. His tongue dragged across his bottom lip, chasing the taste.
“…Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re sweeter than I expected.”
You were still panting. His thumb wiped a smear of blood from your neck with gentle precision. He pressed a kiss to the spot, sealing it closed with a trace of heat.
“You’ll start to feel… different,” he said, rising to his feet and towering over you now. “Feeding changes you. Makes you… sensitive. Addicted, some say.”
You looked up at him, dazed. “To you?”
He smiled. But it wasn’t comforting.
“No,” he murmured. “To this. To being wanted like this.”
He leaned down, eyes burning into yours. His voice dropped to a hush.
“And soon, you’ll want me too.”
You didn’t notice it at first.
The ache.
It started as a dull flutter under your ribs—barely there, easy to ignore. But as the days passed without Chan’s fangs in your skin, it grew sharper, more insistent. Like hunger, but not for food. Like arousal, but with no release. You woke up one morning with your sheets twisted between your legs, skin damp with sweat, heart hammering.
You hadn’t seen him in four days.
He said he had business. Said he wouldn’t be far. But the bond was forged now. His absence echoed through your body like a missing rhythm. A phantom touch that never landed. Your body knew he hadn’t fed.
And it wanted him to.
You tried to act normal. You showered. You ate. You answered emails. But nothing settled. You were restless. Your skin felt too tight. Your limbs, too heavy.
And then… the gifts started.
The first was a book. Left on your pillow.
An old hardcover—The Picture of Dorian Gray. You flipped it open and froze. The margins were full of notes. Your notes. From university. From a copy you hadn’t seen in years.
You didn’t tell him about those annotations. He must’ve tracked it down somehow. Bought it back. The idea that he’d searched for something that touched your mind, not just your body—
You clutched it to your chest and pretended it didn’t mean anything.
The next day, it was a necklace. Silver, fine, weightless. A small black garnet hanging from the center. You found it on your nightstand with no note, but you knew. You put it on without thinking. The gem sat perfectly over your collarbone—right where his mouth usually went.
After that came the clothes. Silk robes. Cashmere sweaters. A pair of shoes that fit like they were molded for you.
He didn’t speak of them. Just watched you wear them with a look that was too satisfied, too sure.
You started sleeping in his bed without realizing when it began.
At first it was just because you couldn’t sleep. The scent of him on his pillows helped. The air in his room felt thicker, safer, like the shadows themselves bent around you to listen to your breathing.
You told yourself it was convenience. Proximity.
Then, one night, you woke with the feeling of being watched.
Your eyes fluttered open.
He was there.
Sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room, legs crossed, one hand resting under his jaw. His shirt was unbuttoned. Bare feet on the rug. No sound. Just him, and you, and the silence between.
"How long have you been there?" you whispered.
He smiled faintly, fangs just barely visible. “Long enough.”
Your breath caught.
“You moaned my name,” he said softly. “In your sleep.”
Your cheeks burned. “That doesn’t mean—”
“It means you’re mine,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a declaration.
It was a fact.
The next feeding was different.
You didn’t wait for him to ask. You came to him.
You didn’t knock. Just opened his door, eyes wide, pupils blown, breath already trembling.
He didn’t say a word—just reached for you, pulled you into his lap, and buried his face in your throat.
This time, you felt everything.
His bite burned and bloomed, molten and euphoric. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your hips rolled instinctively in his lap. He didn’t stop you. He guided you. Hands on your waist, mouth on your neck, whispering filth between gulps.
"You're shaking."
"Need it," you gasped.
"I know. You were made for this. For me."
By the time he finished, you were panting and soaked between the legs, thighs twitching, vision fuzzy. He held you through the aftershocks, licking the wound closed with obscene tenderness.
"You’ll crave it more now," he murmured. “Soon, you won’t be able to come unless I’m inside you… or feeding.”
You should have told him to stop. That it wasn’t true. That you had control.
But the worst part was—you wanted it to be true.
The gala was held in a forgotten cathedral—repurposed and gilded in fresh vice. Glass chandeliers hung like dripping fangs. Shadows wore tuxedos and corseted gowns, wine swirled in crystal like blood, and the air vibrated with the undercurrent of hunger.
This was not your world.
Not really.
And yet—you were here. A blood doll, yes, but one under his protection.
Marked, fed from, cared for. No one could touch you without risking war.
But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t look.
And you… you let them.
The vampire in question wasn’t particularly handsome, not like Chan. But he was bold. He offered you his hand during a waltz, and you took it. He leaned close when you laughed. You let his eyes linger on your neck—on the healed bite that still ached from last week. You didn’t move away.
You didn’t stop him.
And Chan saw everything.
From the gallery above, he stood like a statue—expression unreadable, drink untouched, fangs pressing into his tongue to keep the growl down. He watched you flirt with another predator, watched the flick of your lashes, the curve of your mouth, the bare skin of your throat on display.
He said nothing.
But his eyes never left you.
You expected him to confront you after. Maybe a whispered threat in the car, a sharp warning through clenched teeth.
Instead… silence.
Not a single word on the drive home.
Not one glance as you entered the penthouse.
You were halfway down the hall when you heard it.
The click of the door locking.
You turned.
Chan stood behind you, still and deliberate. He took off his jacket slowly, folded it, and laid it across the nearest chair. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms—veins taut, muscles coiled like he’d been holding himself back for too long.
You opened your mouth, but he spoke first.
Low. Lethal.
“Tell me,” he said, voice like black velvet soaked in wine. “Was he worth it?”
You blinked. “What—”
“You think you can offer this blood to someone else?”
The room dropped ten degrees.
You backed up a step, heart tripping. “It was nothing. Just—just dancing.”
He moved closer. Slow, stalking. “You let him look at you.”
“I didn’t—”
“You let him imagine tasting you. Touching you. Filling you.” His eyes gleamed now—obsidian, deadly. “And you didn’t stop him.”
Your back hit the wall.
Chan leaned in, bracing his palm beside your head. His breath ghosted over your cheek.
“You wanted to see what I’d do.” His other hand slid to your throat—not squeezing, just resting. Claiming. “You wanted to test me.”
Your breath hitched. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
“You’re mine,” he growled, voice rumbling from deep in his chest. “I feed from you. I fuck you. I care for you. No one else touches what’s mine.”
He leaned in closer—lips brushing your ear.
“Now… get on your knees.”
Your knees hit the floor with a soft thud, silk pooling around you like an offering.
Chan stood above you—barely restrained, chest rising with quiet fury, his jaw tight. He looked down at you like a king surveying his most treasured possession, soiled by another’s gaze.
“Open your mouth,” he said, voice low and lethal.
You obeyed—lips parting, tongue already peeking out slightly like a plea. He hummed, pleased, and reached down to cup your jaw. His thumb traced your lower lip once. Then again—pressing harder until you had no choice but to let it past your lips.
“Suck,” he ordered.
You did.
He watched you, unmoving, as your mouth worked over his thumb, soft and obedient. Your tongue swirled, your lips hollowed, and when he pulled it out, it left your chin glistening.
“Good,” he muttered. “You know how to behave when you’re on your knees.”
He undid his belt with one hand, the metallic sound of the buckle snapping through the air like the start of a ritual. You swallowed hard. Your thighs squeezed together instinctively—already soaked, already wanting.
His cock was hard. Thick. Veins prominent. You barely had a second to breathe before he grabbed the back of your head and fed it to you.
Slow at first—his tip dragging over your tongue, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest as your lips closed around him.
“You take me well,” he breathed. “But you’re not gonna get it easy tonight.”
His hand tightened in your hair.
Then—he started thrusting.
Not shallow. Not gentle. He fucked your mouth like it was his right—like it was the punishment and the reward. Your throat burned, your eyes watered, but you took it. You moaned around him, the vibration making him curse above you.
“Look at you,” he growled, glancing down. “Choking so pretty on my cock.”
Tears slipped down your cheeks. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth. He didn't stop. Didn’t slow. His hips moved with brutal rhythm, driving deeper every time until your throat gave in, welcoming the violation.
“You think anyone else could do this to you?” he snarled. “Think he could use you like this? Own you like I do?”
You whimpered around him, lashes fluttering. You tried to answer—but you couldn’t speak. You could only take.
And he loved that.
Finally—he pulled out. You gasped, coughing, spit trailing down your chin.
He grabbed you by the jaw and forced you to look up. His eyes glowed now—hungry. Ferocious.
“Say it.”
You blinked, dazed. “Wh-what?”
His thumb smeared your spit across your cheek.
“Who do you belong to?”
You swallowed.
“You. I’m yours, Chan.”
He exhaled like that was the first thing that soothed him all night.
“Good girl,” he rasped, eyes trailing over your flushed, ruined face. “Now get on the bed.”
You stumbled to the bed, still breathless, throat wrecked and wet. Your legs trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer force of want pooling between them, slick and desperate.
Chan stood back, watching.
Commanding.
You crawled onto the mattress, knees sinking into the soft black sheets. You didn’t even make it all the way before his voice stopped you.
“Don’t lie down,” he said darkly. “I want to see it.”
You froze on all fours.
He prowled toward you—slow, deliberate. A predator savoring every second of the hunt.
His fingers caught the strap of your dress. “This,” he murmured, dragging the silk down your back, “wasn’t for him, was it?”
You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
The dress slid from your body like water.
And when it pooled at your knees, revealing what you wore beneath—it wasn’t silence that followed.
It was a growl.
Black lace. Barely there. Garters. Sheer cups that lifted your breasts just enough to tease. A tiny diamond charm hanging between your ribs. Skin flushed. Bite marks healing.
Chan let out a sharp breath, almost like it hurt to look at you.
“You look…” he stepped closer, eyes dragging down every inch of your spine, “fuckin’ divine.”
You felt him kneel behind you. Fingers hooked into the lace at your hips and ripped. The sound tore through the room, and your body jolted, arousal dripping from your core onto the sheets.
Then—fabric tightened around your wrists.
Your head snapped back. “Wh—”
“My tie,” he whispered, knotting it expertly behind your back. “You wanted to be played with. Now you don’t get to touch. Or beg. Or finish… unless I say so.”
He spread your thighs apart with both hands. Sat back on his heels to admire the way you glistened.
“You’re already dripping,” he muttered. “Pathetic. You want to be used.”
You whimpered. “Yes—please—”
He pressed his thumb against your entrance. Collected the wetness. Smirked.
“Then you’ll wait.”
He brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it clean, slow and deliberate, groaning softly like he’d just tasted something indecent.
Then he looked up at you from behind—eyes black with hunger, lips parted just slightly.
“So sweet.”
Without warning, his hands clamped around your thighs, dragging you down so your knees slipped wide, your back arched deeper, your ass and cunt perfectly exposed. He didn’t give you a second to breathe.
He dove in.
His mouth landed on your soaked pussy like it was salvation—tongue flattening against your slit, licking from your entrance to your clit in one long, filthy stroke. You choked on your own breath, body lurching forward, but your tied wrists left you helpless to do anything but take it.
“Fuck,” he groaned against you, voice muffled by the obscene wet sounds between your legs. “You taste even better when you’re desperate.”
He buried his face in deeper, tongue pushing inside you now, slow and thick, swirling with maddening precision. His nose pressed to your ass, his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. He moaned into you—guttural, low, possessive.
Every time he pulled back to suck on your clit, he made sure it was loud—sloppy and wet and absolutely wrecking. You could feel his fangs graze close to your skin but never break it, teasing you with the threat of another bite you weren’t allowed to beg for.
Your thighs trembled.
Your breath hitched.
Your entire body was on the verge.
“Chan—” you whimpered, voice high, ruined. “Please, I—please—”
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips glistening, chin slick with your arousal.
“Please?” he repeated mockingly. “Didn’t I say you don’t get to beg?”
You whimpered again, hips twitching back toward him instinctively.
He spat on your pussy—warm and obscene—then licked it up without hesitation, sucking your clit between his lips with a deep groan that vibrated through your spine.
“Look at you,” he muttered, tongue flicking wickedly. “Already about to come and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
You moaned, eyes rolling back.
“Feel it?” he growled against your cunt, licking long and slow. “That edge? Right there?”
You nodded frantically, tears starting to sting the corners of your eyes.
“Good. Now stay right there.”
Then he stopped.
You screamed—a strangled, broken sob of frustration.
Chan chuckled darkly and rose to his feet behind you. You could feel the heat of his cock against the back of your thigh, hard and heavy.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, running the head along your dripping folds. “You’ll get to come.”
A pause.
He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
“But not until I feed.”
He leaned over you slowly—caging your body with his, forearm braced beside your head, the other gripping his cock as he dragged it through your soaked folds again and again. Not entering. Just teasing.
The head nudged your entrance. Slipped up to your clit. Down again. Wet noises filled the space between your ragged breaths.
"Feel that?" he rasped, grinding against your slit, hips rocking just enough to make you ache. "How badly you want me? How wet you got just from my tongue?"
You gasped, squirming under him, wrists still bound behind your back with his silk tie.
"Please," you whimpered.
“Not yet.”
His mouth dipped lower—pressed to the curve of your shoulder, tongue tracing the skin like a map he already knew by heart. He kissed it once. Then again, slower.
And then—fangs.
You tensed, body electric, just as he whispered:
"Mine."
He sank his teeth in.
Deep.
You cried out—part pain, part unbearable pleasure—as heat burst through your entire body. His cock thrust into you at the same time—slow, thick, stretching you open inch by inch as he drank from your shoulder. The rhythm matched—the draw of your blood, the press of his hips—every thrust perfectly timed with every pull from your vein.
It was too much. Too intimate. Too raw.
You keened, back arching, legs trembling.
"You feel that?" he groaned against your skin, licking the blood that trickled from the bite. "This is what you need. My cock. My bite. Nothing else will ever satisfy you again."
He began moving in earnest—fucking you deep and steady, the slap of his hips echoing through the room as your slick coated his cock with every thrust.
He licked your bite clean.
Sealed it with a kiss.
Then his hand curled around your throat and pulled you back against his chest, fucking you from behind with filthy precision. His cock hit so deep, dragging against every sensitive spot that had already been teased raw.
"Look at you,” he growled in your ear. “Taking me so well. Making such a mess.”
You sobbed, drool slipping down your chin, tears lining your lashes.
"Chan—can't—gonna come—"
“No,” he said darkly, slowing just to the edge of cruel. “Not yet.”
He angled his hips.
Hit that spot again.
And again.
His fingers pinched your clit. Once.
You screamed.
"Now," he breathed. "Now you can come."
And your body obeyed. You shattered around him—tight, pulsing, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed through you, white-hot and endless. But Chan’s grip tightened around your waist—and he kept going.
Thrusting.
Hard.
Unrelenting.
Your cunt, still pulsing, still wet and raw, clung to him as he fucked into you like he was chasing something deeper than pleasure—possession. You cried out, your tied wrists flexing behind you.
“Chan—ah—please—!”
He growled behind you, low and dangerous. “That wasn’t enough.”
His pace slammed into you now—each thrust brutal and perfect, his cock dragging against every spot that made your spine melt. The sound of skin slapping skin, your wetness, your sobs—it filled the room like music.
You were incoherent. Wrecked. But your body still begged for more.
He leaned over you again, chest pressed to your back, and this time—this time—his lips went to your neck. The untouched side. The one he hadn’t bitten yet.
“Gonna take more,” he whispered, voice fraying. “Need to feel you.”
And then he bit.
Sharp. Deep. Devouring.
You screamed, the pleasure so sharp it cut straight through your nerves. His cock slammed into you as he fed, synced perfectly with every draw of your blood—each thrust harder than the last, deeper, until you were delirious from it all.
You felt yourself unravel again—another orgasm building too fast.
Your thighs shook, overstimulated. Your moans cracked into sobs.
“Such a good girl,” he growled against your throat, voice thick with your taste. “Bleeding so fucking sweet for me. Coming so tight around my cock.”
You sobbed his name, broken and blissed-out, body on fire.
And he snapped his hips again—deep, grinding into your soaked cunt until you felt the thick stretch of him press so high inside, you swore he touched your soul.
You shattered.
Again.
This time, harder. Your orgasm tore through you, so violent your vision went white. Your body spasmed around him, pussy clenching so hard he groaned, fangs still buried in your skin.
And still… he didn’t stop.
He growled low, deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your skin as his hips slammed into yours, cock thrusting through every pulse of your orgasm, every tight squeeze of your overstimulated cunt. You were shaking—wrecked—but he chased his high like a man possessed.
“Fuck—just like that,” he snarled, mouth full of your blood, voice shredded and animal. “Fucking perfect—so tight, so fucking good—”
Your walls were spasming around him, dripping down your thighs, your pussy fluttering like it was begging for him to fill you.
And Chan—he gave in.
With a final, brutal thrust, he pushed deep—as deep as he could go—his cock pressed against your cervix as his body shuddered against yours. His fangs slid free from your neck, blood smeared down your skin, and he roared your name as he came.
Thick.
Hot.
Endless.
Spilling into you in long, staggering pulses, flooding you with his cum. It filled every clench of your pussy, every slick, swollen fold, leaking around the base of his cock even as he stayed buried inside, grinding in slow, final strokes to make sure it stayed in you.
You gasped, boneless, melting into the sheets beneath him.
He didn’t move. Not for a long moment.
Just held you—cock still buried, cum dripping, his breath ragged against your neck.
“…Mine,” he whispered again, quieter this time. Like a prayer.
Then he kissed the bite mark gently.
Twice.
One for the pain. One for the promise.
You weren’t sure when the tremors stopped. Or if they ever really did.
All you knew was this: you were limp, boneless, your body melted into the sheets with Chan still buried deep inside you—his cock softening slowly, his cum thick and warm where it leaked from your spent cunt.
Your skin was covered in blood, sweat, his mouth, his hands. The bite on your shoulder throbbed. The one on your neck pulsed. And your wrists—still tied behind your back with his silk tie—twitched weakly as you tried to move.
You whimpered.
Immediately—immediately—he responded.
Chan’s breath caught. He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, like withdrawing from something fragile. His hands—no longer demanding—were tender now. Reverent.
“Shh…” he whispered, voice low and raw. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
You felt the weight of his body shift, then his fingers—trembling slightly—began to undo the knot binding your wrists.
“You did so good for me,” he murmured, loosening the fabric. “So fucking perfect.”
The silk slipped free. Your arms fell forward limply, and he caught them in his hands, pressing kisses to your wrists where the skin had reddened.
“I didn’t mean to hold you that tight,” he whispered.
You could barely answer, barely move. But your breath hitched at his voice, at the gentleness of it, and that was enough.
Chan leaned forward, turning you slowly onto your side, then carefully—like lifting something too delicate to breathe on—gathered you into his arms. He sat against the headboard with you in his lap, pressed chest to chest, one arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other cradled your head to his shoulder.
His scent surrounded you again—cedar, wine, and the faintest trace of blood.
“You’re okay,” he whispered again. “I’ve got you.”
His hand slid through your hair, combing it back, and he pressed a long, warm kiss to your forehead.
Sometime later, you felt yourself being lifted again. Carried.
Chan’s arms under your back and knees.
The lights dimmed automatically as he crossed the room into the bathroom. He tapped the marble edge of the tub with his foot, and the bath began to fill—perfect temperature, gentle steam curling into the air like a cocoon.
He set you down carefully on the edge.
You didn’t resist when he peeled off what was left of your lingerie, brushing your skin softly where it stuck with dried sweat or blood. He climbed in behind you, drawing you into the water between his legs, your back to his chest. Warmth surrounded you. So did he.
He reached for a soft cloth and dipped it in the water.
“Let me take care of you.”
He began with your neck.
He cleaned the bite marks with feather-light precision, dabbing away the blood without pressing too hard. Then your shoulders. Your thighs. The inside of your knees. His fingers brushed your folds just once, so gently it made you shiver—but not from arousal. From how safe it felt.
He kissed the back of your shoulder.
“Next time,” he murmured, “you don’t flirt with anyone else.”
You let out a breathless laugh, eyes fluttering closed.
“Noted.”
He chuckled against your skin, arms tightening around you. “I meant every word. You belong to me.”
You turned your head, eyes meeting his. “And you belong to me?”
His gaze softened—but the hunger never left.
“Always.”
He kissed you then—slow, deep, claiming in a new way. Not as the monster who fed from you. But as the one who would never let you go.
The next evening, you found the contract, the same contract you had signed. Folded neatly on the black marble desk in his study, next to a glass of untouched wine and a blood-red fountain pen.
You hadn’t seen it since the night you signed it. Since you bled on the page and gave him everything.
Curious, you reached for it.
You flipped through each clause slowly—Clause 3, Clause 7, Clause 9... and then your eyes landed on one you hadn’t noticed before.
Clause 13: This bond is eternal. Should both parties fulfill the covenant, termination is not permitted.
Your breath caught.
“Covenant?”
You turned—heart thudding—just as Chan appeared behind you, silent and barefoot.
He didn’t look surprised. Not even guilty.
Just satisfied.
“I was wondering when you’d find that,” he murmured, stepping close. “You skipped the fine print.”
Your lips parted. “You said it was a contract—”
He cut you off with a smirk, eyes gleaming dark.
“I lied.”
He reached for your waist, pulled you flush against him. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered:
“You didn’t sign a contract, sweetheart.”
His hands slid down your back.
“You signed a covenant.”
Your heart stuttered. “What does that mean?”
His lips found your neck. The spot he hadn’t bitten yet tonight. The one that ached for it now.
“It means you were never going to leave me,” he whispered. “Not after the first feeding. Not after I marked you. Not after I filled you.”
He kissed your pulse once, slow.
“It means you’re not just my blood doll.”
He kissed lower.
“You’re my chosen.”
Lower.
“My mate.”
Then—fangs.
He sank them in slow. Gentle. Not like before. This time… it was intimate. Sacred. Your breath caught as your body melted against his, cunt already throbbing, slick already dripping and making a mess of your panties from the sheer gravity of his presence.
And then—you felt it.
His hand slipped between your legs, beneath the panties, two fingers sliding through your soaked folds like he already knew exactly what you needed. And of course he did.
He fed.
You arched.
And just as he groaned from the taste of you—you came. Shaking, gasping, crying out his name as he held you, bit you, fed from you like you were his first and final meal.
Your body clamped around nothing, but it didn’t matter.
You weren’t cumming for friction.
You were cumming for him.
Because now, it wasn’t just about being claimed.
It was about being kept.
When he pulled back, blood on his lips, eyes wild and reverent, he whispered against your skin:
synopsis: hyunjin asks his friends to model for his paintings and things take a turn as they indulge in their fantasies.
genre: smut, fluff
word count: 6.6k
warnings: everyone is a horny desperate switch, oral (f and m), voyeurism, threesome, mxm action, fingering, a lil spit play, cockwarming, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), double penetration (one hole), cum eating, cum swapping, creampie
a/n: can't seem to get enough of hyunlix so enjoy🤭
~ divider by @anitalenia
~ Masterlist
"Fuck...! Lixie!" you jolt, your middle lifting towards Felix's lips as he flicks his tongue in a particular way that he knows gets your toes curling.
He groans into you, the taste of you and the sounds you make, how you sit on the couch spread out for him while he kneels with his head buried where he loves to be the most; he can't help his hand as it travels into his pants, grabbing his needy leaking cock.
You're so close, his nose pressing into your clit perfectly as you play with your nipples through your thin shirt and Felix pulls his cock out to bring himself release along with you.
"I'm gonna-" you're interrupted by your phone ringing, both of you jolt and groan as Felix moves away, licking at his lips.
"Who is it?" your best friend looks up at you, a little breathless, still stroking his length slowly, squeezing it a little.
"Hyune." you chuckle.
"Answer him." Felix smirks diving back in, pushing his tongue between your soaking folds into your warmth.
You groan and accept your other best friend's call.
"Hi, beautiful." you can just hear Hyunjin's smirk by the way he says it.
"Hey, prince- ah!" you accidentally moan as Felix pinches your clit teasingly.
"Hi, Felix!" Hyunjin yells loudly, making you laugh as you move your phone away from your ear.
Felix chuckles, detaching his lips from you as you put Hyunjin on speaker so Felix can talk to him too.
"You're between y/n's legs, I presume?" Hyunjin teases.
"My favorite place to be. Care to join?" Felix claps back as you close your legs and flick his forehead.
"That's besides the point. I'm calling cause I need a favor from my two very beautiful and very horny best friends." Hyunjin announces as Felix rubs his forehead, his brows pinched together.
"I'm not filming a porn movie and putting it on the internet!" you chime in, making Hyunjin laugh.
"I wasn't gonna ask that but now that you said it-"
"Stop stalling, Hyunjin." you interrupt him and he giggles.
"Alright, since the two of you are at it anyways, I wanted to ask if you would let me paint you in different sex poses? I wanna make it aesthetic, erotic, raw... you know? You two would be perfect for it!"
Even though you and Felix messed around sometimes, you've never actually went all the way so both of your faces become red as Hyunjin explains his vision.
You've kissed Hyunjin too, as has Felix but it never went further than that so the thought of being naked with Felix inside you, while Hyunjin paints the both of you made your gut stir, arousal gushing out of your already wet pussy.
The three of you had an interesting friendship, and you know not many people would understand it or support it but as long as you have each other, you didn't care.
"Hello? Earth to my pretty people?" Hyunjin laughs.
"I'm down." you nod and then look at Felix whose face was as red as a tomato now.
"M-me too. Yeah. Why not." he shrugs, trying to make it look like it didn't affect him at all.
"Great, that's settled! Come to my studio tomorrow at 6pm." Hyunjin sounds excited.
"Sure, see you!"
"And loves?" Hyunjin adds, his voice dropping a few octaves.
"Y-yeah?" Felix speaks up first.
"Don't worry about anything. I'll take good care of you." Hyunjin almost purrs and you feel your pussy clench at his words.
After you hang up, Felix and you look at each other and then burst into an awkward laugh.
"This'll definitely be interesting." he says, a contemplative look on his face.
"Mhm. Let's think about that tomorrow, though. We have some unfinished business here." you smirk, spreading your legs again as Felix looks at you darkly, licking his lips.
Excitement runs through your veins that night as you curl up in bed, anticipating tomorrow.
Felix drives you to the familiar building and the two of you step into the elevator, letting it take you to the top where Hyunjin's studio sits.
Hyunjin lets you in, and as always when he paints, he is messy, his hair disheveled but somehow making him even prettier, his bottom lip is red as he probably bit into it with concentration, there's a streak of yellow paint on his left cheek, and more on his shirt and pants.
"You know the rules." he wiggles his eyebrows before twirling away like some fairy, making you and Felix laugh.
The rules were simple; no shoes because they're dirty (and probably because Hyunjin likes to take peeks at your feet, sometimes even rub them when the three of you cuddle) and no phones as he felt they were an unnecessary distraction in his sacred space.
You and Felix leave your shoes and phones by the door, before following Hyunjin, walking on the plastic that's covering the floor for protection, and Hyunjin looks at you, leaving his paintbrush aside before he skips to you, his long arms enveloping both of you in a hug.
"Oof." Felix huffs out air as he accidentally knocks into Hyunjin a little too hard, making Hyunjin snicker before he leans back, his hands splayed on the backs of your heads.
"My loves. Are you excited?" he asks as you swat at him which he dodges with a laugh, finally releasing you.
"Intrigued, I would say." you smirk, both of you looking at Felix.
"I'm - a little nervous." Felix admits, a blush coloring his cheeks.
"We shared a bath multiple times." Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Felix, a playful smile gracing his features.
"This is different!" Felix swallows and you chuckle, your hand on his upper arm in an attempt to comfort him.
"It's just us, I know you'll feel better as soon as we get into it." you say, knowing that Felix isn't as spontaneous as Hyunjin or you are and it takes a little convicing when he's on the spot, but ultimately he always caves in.
"You don't have to strip right away. Here, I prepared coffee and snacks for my models." Hyunjin beckons you to the table with a smirk.
"Hardly a model." you chuckle as Felix picks up a drink.
"Y/n, you're gorgeous and you're not allowed to talk badly about yourself in my studio... or like ever." Hyunjin nods, folding his arms on his chest.
"Damn, calm down, I was joking." you giggle, your face warming up.
"Oh my god, ew! What the fuck did I just drink?" Felix makes a disgusted face and the two of you laugh.
"That would be my coffee. Your hot chocolate is on the left, sugar boy." Hyunjin smirks.
"I swear-" Felix starts, his hand curling into a fist and you laugh.
"Anyways. How will this work?" you stop whatever banter they were about to have, because you know it can drag on, sometimes they don't know how to stop when they start joking around.
"So. The bed, right?" Hyunjin says, semingly a bit bashful himself.
You look towards the bed, one where the three of you spent countless nights watching some artsy european movies on Hyunjin's projector; Felix would fall asleep with his head on your chest and Hyunjin would end up putting his head on your lap, demanding of you dramatically that you need to caress his head and play with his hair or he'll die.
The three of you would end up falling asleep together, limbs all tangled and messy, and one of you would always be close to falling off the bed (that one would mostly be Hyunjin).
"Okay." you nod.
"I will instruct what poses you'll make and then paint them. Of course we will take breaks when it becomes too much. Or stop altogether if either of you feel uncomfortable." Hyunjin waves his arms around as he talks.
"Alright. Should we just start?" you shrug and Felix sputters a little.
"I'm not hard yet." he says quietly.
"That's no problem. I'm sure y/n can help you with that." Hyunjin smirks. "Or if you want, I can help you."
"T-that... y/n and I can just make out." Felix's deep voice is so quiet in the big space.
"Okay, if you need me I'll be here. I can turn around if you want." Hyunjin chuckles.
"N-no, you can... watch." Felix says and you smirk, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.
Hyunjin sits on his stool, his eyes darkened already, his tongue pressed into his cheek as you push Felix to sit on the bed, your body following his as you grab his face in your hand and press your lips on his.
His lips are sweet and familiar, albeit trembling a little in this moment so you press harder into them, his hands coming up to caress your waist.
Hyunjin watches with dark and curious eyes, his two beautiful best friends kissing in front of him.
Felix relaxes the more you kiss, his tongue darting out to lick at your lips, asking for permission to taste you which you happily grant him.
Hyunjin's heart speeds up as he observes you, his cock twitching in his pants.
He notices the way your hands tangle in Felix's hair and how you pull at the strands, he notices Felix's hands on your ass, squeezing and massaging the flesh as you get closer to each other, the wet sounds of your tongues dancing together bounces off the walls as spit dribbles down your chin.
He notices Felix's pants growing tighter, and he doesn't feel jealous of him, he feels exhilirated.
He wants to join.
Hyunjin stands up and makes his way towards the bed, which gets your attention as you detach from each other, a string of saliva connecting your lips.
Without any words, Hyunjin cups your chin and leans down to kiss you messy and sloppy, his tongue pushed in instantly to lap at you and you whimper, jolting a little as Felix grips your thighs.
Hyunjin leans away and turns to Felix, his hand big on Felix's head as he gathers his hair in it and yanks his head a little, making Felix whimper.
Hyunjin leans down and kisses him equally as messy and sloppy as he did to you, arousal gushing on your panties as you watch them making out.
"Fuck. I'm sorry." he shakes his head.
"It's okay, Hyune. You're always welcome to join." you lick your lips, your eyes traveling between his face and the obvious bulge in his sweatpants.
"I'll hold onto that invitation. But, right now, I need you two to strip. Okay?" he asks and both of you nod.
It's easy to be naked in front of each other as you have shared baths and one too many nightly escapades which ended in skinny-dipping, Felix always being a victim of yours and Hyunjin's jokes, where you would dive in and grab his ankles or try to scare him with stories of lake monsters.
Felix would nearly cry but you didn't want to be too cruel so you would hold him, as the three of you floated around naked in the cold water.
But, something about only you and Felix being naked while Hyunjin is dressed and observing every single move you make is new and exciting.
"So, what would be the first position?" you ask curiously as Hyunjin prepares his easel.
"What do you usually do?" he asks, not looking at you.
"We never... we never did that." Felix says, making Hyunjin look up.
"Really? I thought you for sure have. Don't you like - mess around?"
"Yeah, but we never went all the way." you nod and Hyunjin gasps.
"Oh my god, why didn't you tell me! Is this uncomfortable for you?"- he panics, his arms flailing, making you laugh at him because he's seconds from slipping on that plastic cover.
"Calm down, Hyun!" you say as you sit on the bed.
"I'm totally fine with it. Lixie?" both of you look at Felix.
"Yes. I'm okay to go." he nods.
"Alright, just prep yourselves then." Hyunjin says it like it's a command to obey and you can't help the way your pussy clenches at his words and the determined look in his warm eyes.
"H-help us?" Felix gets bold suddenly, batting his pretty eyelashes at Hyunjin and he lets out a delighted chuckle, only two long strides and Hyunjin is in front of you.
"Sweetheart, spread your legs for us." Hyunjin coos at you and you immediately obey.
The smirk on his face deepens as he brings his hand to Felix's lips.
"Spit on my fingers, angel." he taps his lips and Felix whimpers a little, gathering spit before letting it drip onto Hyunjin's long fingers.
You expected him to only finger you, but what you didn't expect is for Hyunjin to drop to his knees between Felix's legs and spit on his cock as he grabs him, making Felix squeal from the sudden action.
Hyunjin wastes no time, his wet fingers press into your clit and run down your folds, as his other hand starts slowly working Felix's length.
"Ah!" Felix moans, jolting into Hyunjin, you know it must feel quite different to have another guy jerk him off like that and you whine for more attention as Hyunjin stares up at Felix with a knowing smirk.
Hyunjin turns to look at you, eyes softening before he slowly pushes his fingers inside you, your warm pussy welcoming them and sucking them in.
His tongue darts out to catch a bead of pre-cum from Felix's tip and Felix gasps, his hands clutching at the covers under him as his thighs tremble.
Hyunjin doesn't stop smirking as his tongue swipes around Felix's tip before he takes him in, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head up and down slowly, his fingers matching the pace of his lips as he fucks them deep into you.
"H-Hyune." you whimper, the tips of your fingers touching Felix's as he falls apart too, his head thrown back, a string of curses leaving his lips as Hyunjin sucks on him harder.
You admire how he seemingly has no gag reflex as he keeps sucking him in, his nose pressed into Felix's pubes as he swallows his whole length, while fucking your pussy skilfully, scissoring you open to take Felix's cock.
"There." he suddenly pops off of Felix, pulling his fingers out of you and immediately sticking them into his mouth to taste your sweet juices.
"Mm." Hyunjin moans around his fingers.
"T-thank you?" you bite your lip teasingly and Hyunjin giggles.
"Anytime."
"How do you want us for the first position?" you ask, your pussy throbbing and clenching, needing more attention.
"Okay, so..." Hyunjin pushes Felix to lay down and then moves him a little, making you chuckle at how Felix looks up at him cutely and almost innocently as Hyunjin adjusts his body however he wants.
"I want your arm lifted and kind of falling of the bed. And the second on will be on y/n's hip when she straddles you." Hyunjin motions at you and you nod, your legs on either sides of Felix and he squirms a little as you grab his cock and run it on your wet folds.
Felix gasps as you moan and slowly lower down on his length, Hyunjin observing his cock pushing into you with his lips parted.
You wiggle a little to adjust, feeling your best friend's cock filling you up perfectly and Felix whimpers quietly, bucking up into you.
"Where do you want my hands?" you ask, sounding almost breathless as you clench around Felix involuntarily, making his eyes flutter.
"Hm. Actually, let's change it up. I want y/n arching off you and holding your hand. So you can put this one-" Hyunjin takes the hand that was falling off the bed- "here." he lays Felix's hand on your hip.
"Your other hand here." Hyunjin takes your hand and puts it on Felix's abs but a little bit to the side so the point where you connect can still be visible to him.
"Beautiful." Hyunjin breathes deeply. "I want you looking at each other." he adds, messing with Felix's hair and then yours, making some of it cascade on one side, but not covering your breasts.
"Arch your back a little, sweetheart." you do as he says, any movement making both you and Felix moan.
"Now, stay like that as long as you can." Hyunjin smirks, almost evilly, the bastard.
He moves from the bed to blast some music on his speakers, whistling and acting nonchalant but you can see his cock struggling against the fabric of his pants.
Your eyes find Felix's and he licks his lips as he looks at you.
"You okay, Lix?" you ask, squeezing his hand a little.
"P-perfect. Feel so good. You're so warm and tight." he whimpers and you can't help your hips moving at that, your pussy clenching.
"Hey, no actual fucking." Hyunjin chimes in, knocking down a few paintbrushes accidentally. "Yet." he adds with a devilish smirk.
"Bastard." you mutter under your breath with a chuckle, making Felix smile.
"I heard that!" Hyunjin sits at his easel, and you look up at him, sticking your tongue out at him as he rolls his eyes playfully.
Hyunjin starts sketching quickly as you look back down at Felix.
The two of you lock eyes and in the sudden silence devoid of your conversation and jokes, you're aware of everything.
You're aware of Felix buried inside your warmth, throbbing and full, his fingers slotted between yours, his other hand gripping your hip, his dark eyes fixated on you.
Felix's eyes travel down to where he's filling you up and he groans deeply.
"Fuck." his hips buck just a little and you feel your arousal gushing and coating his cock.
"Lix." you warn but it comes out as a moan.
"You two have no patience." Hyunjin scolds as he continues sketching.
"You try being in my place." Felix huffs.
"Maybe later." Hyunjin winks at you as you flip him off.
"Hand back on Lix." he points with his pen and you make noises of protest but listen nevertheless.
You look into Felix's eyes again and he looks at you so softly but still full of lust and you find yourself getting lost in his gaze.
After he's done sketching, Hyunjin starts mixing his paints and you wiggle a little, making Felix moan under you, his nails digging into your hip.
"My legs hurt." you whine with a pout.
"Let's take a break." Hyunjin states, and you can see that he's adjusting himself in his pants, as his other hand holds the paintbrush.
"You have a sketch though," you start, sliding off of Felix and making him whimper. ",can't you like finish painting without us having to be in this position for so long?" you ask, your eyes falling down to Felix's cock, wet with your arousal.
Your face warms up and you tear your eyes away to look at Hyunjin expectantly, as Felix sits up, feeling a bit dizzy as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath in.
"I need you in the position just a bit longer. Just to get some shading done, then you can change positions." Hyunjin says, finally looking up at you.
His eyes rake all over your body and he licks his lips hungrily at the sight.
"What, you hate being on top of our Lixie that much?" he decides to tease to calm himself down.
"As much as I love cockwarming Lix, my legs are cramping." you state nonchalantly, making Felix cough behind you as he stands up.
"You okay there, angel?" Hyunjin asks.
"Perfect." Felix nods but you can see that his eyes are almost crossed from the need to be touched.
You laugh under your breath, drinking some water before sitting down and stretching your legs.
Hyunjin stands up abruptly, making his way to you as Felix sips on his chocolate.
You look up at him and before you can ask him what he's doing, Hyunjin kneels before you, his fingers wrapping around your ankle as he brings your foot on his thigh.
"W-what..." you start but he shushes you, his hands wrapping around your calf as he gently massages you, soothing out the tension in your muscles.
Your pussy keeps clenching around nothing as Hyunjin stares into your eyes darkly yet his touch is so sweet.
You smirk a little, sliding your foot on his flesh before gently resting it on the bulge in his pants.
Hyunjin sucks in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as his hands squeeze you a little harder.
"Be careful, sweetheart." he warns you but you want to play, so you press harder into him, wiggling your toes against his tip, realizing quickly he isn't wearing any underwear.
Hyunjin looks up at you, narrowing his eyes with a smirk.
"Lix, come here for a sec." Felix makes his way to the two of you instantly.
"Entertain our sweetheart. Perhaps she needs a distraction." Hyunjin winks at Felix, and Felix returns the wink with a smirk of his own as he stands in front of you.
You look up at Felix and he puts his hand on the back of your head, gently caressing you as his other hand holds his cock, bringing it closer to your lips which fall open immediately, letting him gently push his tip inside your mouth.
It's not the first time you've done this, but you never tasted yourself on him or done this with Hyunjin in the room and it makes you moan around him, Felix's hips stuttering as he pushes in more.
Hyunjin whines quietly as he starts massaging your other leg and Felix holds your head in place, fucking into you slowly.
"See how good you can be for us, sweetheart." Hyunjin's voice is low and you struggle to look down at him as Felix slides his cock deeper inside you, your throat adjusting to take him.
Hyunjin's hands wander up towards your thigh, squeezing and massaging the flesh there, his fingertips dangerously close to your wet core.
By now you're dripping on the sheets, and Hyunjin subtly parts your legs just to take a look at your cunt and the sight of your glistening folds has him groaning.
Without a word he leans in and starts kissing up your thigh.
You jolt a little, whimpering around Felix's length as his eyes fall down to see Hyunjin kissing and nipping at your flesh.
The sight makes him twitch inside your hot mouth as Hyunjin comes closer and closer to your core.
He worships your inner thighs with his lips, tongue and teeth as Felix pushes his cock deep inside you, making you gag a little.
You know he's about to apologize so you start bobbing your head on his length just to prove to him that you don't mind, rather the opposite, you love it.
Felix's fingers grip at your hair as he lets you take control, wetting his cock with your spit as you close your eyes and get into it.
Just as you're beginning to lose yourself, Hyunjin suddenly buries his face in your cunt and inhales deeply, making you aware of him.
"You smell so sweet." Hyunjin almost growls. "Fuck the paintings." he mumbles against you and your legs tremble but be grips them, pulling them over his shoulders before his lips attach to your lower ones.
"Shit." Felix thrusts into you, the sight of Hyunjin's plump lips against your cunt as he kisses you and sucks on your clit, his tongue darting out to gather all your dripping juices drives him insane and he can feel the familiar build up inside his gut.
"I'm gonna cum." Felix whines as he continues fucking your face and you're a mess, drooling on his cock, your legs shaking from the way Hyunjin eats you out, like he's never tasted anything better in his entire life.
The slurping noises Hyunjin makes as he presses his lips and nose as hard as he can into you, his tongue fucking your clenching hole, bring Felix to the edge and he twitches inside you as you grip onto Hyunjin's hair making him groan into your pussy.
"Ah, y/n!" Felix moans loudly as he shoots his load down your throat and you swallow readily, not letting a drop go to waste as you milk him dry.
Felix pulls out of you, trying to come to his senses and catch a breath just as Hyunjin is about to lean away and throw some snarky remark but Felix is quick to grip his head and push him back into you, making him moan.
"Finish what you started, Hyunjin." Felix's voice is deep, his eyes sharp and electricity shoots through your body when he takes charge like that.
Hyunjin's eyes roll back in his head as he eats you out even more hungrily, palming his erection harshly through his pants, a wet spot appearing on them.
Felix smooths out Hyunjin's hair with a smirk.
"Good boy." Felix's deep voice rings out and Hyunjin groans deeply, bucking his hips into his hand, very obviously moaning into you and you whimper, you're so close to release.
Felix decides to help you feel even better as he sits down next to you and leans in to suck your nipple in his mouth, his fingers playing with the other one.
The combined stimulation proves to be too much and you cum hard, painting Hyunjin's face in your pleasure and he whines lapping you up and licking at his lips.
"Now I understand why you love being between y/n's legs so much." Hyunjin pants as he looks up at Felix, his hand shoved in his sweatpants.
"I'm right here, you know." you chuckle and he stands up.
"I know sweetheart. Ah, please help me." Hyunjin whines, pulling his cock out as it twitches miserably in his hand, pre-cum dribbling from the tip.
"Let me." Felix interjects, sensing that you need to come to your senses a little bit and let your throat rest.
"Be my guest." Hyunjin smirks as Felix sits right in front of Hyunjin's core.
You gasp quietly at the sight before you, Felix wrapping his lips around Hyunjin's dick and Hyunjin tangling his hand in Felix's hair making him take more as he guides him.
You get desperate all over again, your hand reaching between your legs to play with your puffy clit as you observe your best friends lost in pleasure; Hyunjin's head thrown back as he moves his hips purposefully, languidly, fucking Felix's mouth, his big hands gripping his hair and controlling him as Felix drools around him, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands digging into Hyunjin's thighs.
"Oh god." you whine as you push two fingers inside your pussy and start fucking yourself with the same speed Hyunjin is moving his hips against your friend's plump lips.
Hyunjin opens his eyes and looks at you with a smirk before he looks at Felix.
"Looks like you're the good boy now." he says lowly before snapping his hips into Felix harshly, making him gag as tears spill from his eyes and for a moment you get worried but you see that his cock is twitching against his thigh at the way Hyunjin is handling him, fucking harder into him, making the tip of his cock hit the back of Felix's throat.
You speed up with your fingers, your other hand coming up to play with your aroused nipples as Felix cries against Hyunjin, gripping his thighs and as his nails dig into his flesh and break skin, Hyunjin whines loudly and cums, painting Felix's throat with his cum.
"Don't swallow." Hyunjin warns and Felix sputters a little, some of the cum seeping out of his lips.
"Come here, beautiful." he beckons you as you stop what you were doing and come closer to Felix.
"Kiss her." Hyunjin commands and Felix grabs your face gently and you open your mouth to let Felix push Hyunjin's cum on your tongue.
The two of you make out, playing with his cum and Hyunjin joins in, grabbing the back of your heads, he leans in and kisses you first, tasting himself on your tongue then he does the same to Felix, wiping his tears as he kisses him.
"You've no idea how long I wanted you both." Hyunjin exhales, his eyes shiny.
"Kinda did. You are obvious, eye-fucking us whenever we're together." you smirk.
"You humped my ass while we were sleeping here once." Felix added with a flush on his cheeks and Hyunjin hits his arm as he got embarassed.
"Shut up, I was half asleep then." he mutters and the two of you chuckle.
You lean in and place a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"Are we gonna continue or what?" you smirk. "Or are you going back to painting? Was that just a ruse to get us naked and fuck us?"
"It wasn't! I genuinely wanted to paint you!" Hyunjin pouts.
"Okay no need to get defensive, prince." you wink.
"We can get back to painting some other time." Felix chimes in and you agree, leaning in to kiss Hyunjin to get him back in the mood.
It doesn't take long before he lays you down, with Felix on your left side and Hyunjin between your legs.
"I want to worship you, my beautiful sweetheart." Hyunjin grabs your foot and starts kissing your toes.
You whimper a little and Felix leans over you, pressing his lips into yours.
There are so many hands on you that you can't even think straight, your mind is cloudy, your pussy is soaking and you can't stop arching off the bed, your body begging for more.
Hyunjin worships your feet, kissing them and licking them, sucking on your toes, his lips pressing into your ankles gently; while Felix's face is buried in your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin and leaving purple bruises as he marks you, his hands slide all over your chest and stomach until he lets his hand settle over your pussy as he cups it.
"Ah!" you whine as Felix runs his fingers on your folds before stopping at your clit and pressing into it.
You moan quietly, your eyes closed in bliss as you play with Felix's hair, your other hand gripping the sheet.
Hyunjin kisses up your leg until his face is close to your cunt for the second time tonight.
"Need to taste you again." he mutters and you open your eyes to look at him as Felix retracts his hand and instead puts it on your breast, massaging it and playing with your sensitive nipple.
Hyunjin doesn't wait, he dives in, his tongue lapping at you again as you drip on him.
"Come, angel." he calls out to Felix, gently taking his hand in his and pulling him to kneel between your legs too.
You groan when they start making out, both of them battling for dominance but ultimately it's Hyunjin who lets Felix tilt his head with a fistful of his hair gripped.
When they part, a string of saliva connects them and they smirk at each other before leaning in closer to your core.
You almost yelp when both of their tongues start playing with your throbbing pussy, Hyunjin pushing his inside you and sliding over your folds, Felix flicking your clit with his and meeting Hyunjin in the middle where they move together against your cunt.
With your legs spread as they hold your thighs, your best friends continue to lap at you, their tongues meeting constantly as they make out, their spit and your slick making everything even more wet and naughty.
They both eat you out like you're the sweetest treat ever as Hyunjin keeps dipping his tongue into your hole, Felix concentrating on your sensitive clit, sometimes sliding down to lick at Hyunjin's tongue and your hole.
Your legs start trembling and you can't hold in anymore, you let go, gripping at the bed, your hips spasming as you squirt all over their faces.
"Fuck, she squirted for us." Hyunjin groans, lapping at you.
"What a good girl." Felix adds, looking up at you darkly as he kisses your inner thigh.
Hyunjin leans back and Felix grabs his face, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue, making Hyunjin grind his cock against the mattress.
"I need you inside." you whimper when they lift up to look at you.
"Which one of us, sweetheart?" Hyunjin asks, as Felix gently caresses your thighs and waist.
"Both." you whine.
"Both?" Felix's eyes widen. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Please."
"Whatever our princess wants, she gets." Hyunjin smirks, fingertips teasing your clenching pussy.
"Lixie, get under me." you lift up and Felix lays down, his eyes becoming hazy instantly, his lips parting as he stares at you in awe.
You throw your leg over him as you hover, before grabbing his cock and sliding it inside you with ease.
Felix moans, arching off the bed as you adjust yourself.
You lean down, pressing your chest on his as Hyunjin shuffles behind you.
"Make some room for me." he almost whines, making Felix chuckle.
"Always." you say as Hyunjin presses himself behind you, the tip of his cock on your already stuffed pussy and you whimper.
"Are you sure you can take both of us?" Hyunjin teases, prodding at you with his tip.
"Y-yes. Don't make me wait anymore, please Jinnie." you moan as Felix caresses your head.
"As you wish, love." Hyunjin whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pushes in.
It's tight and it stings but you love the feeling of your best friends stretching your little cunt at the same time.
"Fuck, so tight." Hyunjin groans, pushing in slowly as you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes.
"You're doing so good, darling." Felix praises you, his hands gentle on your soft skin.
"Mhm, taking us so well." Hyunjin moans, pushing in as much as he could.
"Ah!" you moan, your pussy stretched and dripping on their cocks.
"Angel." Hyunjin looks at Felix, their hands finding each other as their fingers entwine.
Hyunjin's other hand is on your hips, while Felix gently holds your head, caressing the back of your neck.
"Tell us when to move, love." Felix kisses your forehead.
"You can move." you say breathlessly, as your pussy clenches around them eagerly.
Both of them start dragging their cocks inside you, opening you up with each gentle and languid thrust, their lengths rubbing against each other in the tight, warm space.
"F-feel so good!" you exclaim, your eyes crossing from pleasure already.
"Yeah. S-so good." Felix whines, fucking up into you.
"Ah, my loves. I love you so much." Hyunjin groans, his lips dragging on your skin, face buried in your neck.
"Love you too." you whimper.
"It's just the three of us. Forever." Hyunjin grips Felix's hand and your hip harder, nails digging into your skin.
"Mm yes." Felix groans as the two of them speed up, their cocks filling you up constantly, the squelching sounds so loud in the big room.
You've never felt this full or this wet as they fuck into you desperately, pressing into your sweet spot and stretching your little pussy just for them.
"Lix." Hyunjin moans, releasing his hand and lifting up a little to angle his hips better as he holds yours.
Felix smirks faintly, wrapping his arms around you before the two of them start fucking your hard, using you like a little fuck toy as you grip at Felix and moan, becoming putty between them, letting them have complete control over you.
"Ah, ah, ah, L-Lixie! Jinnie!" you whimper and babble as your orgasm builds up.
"Squirt on our cocks, sweetheart. Please." Hyunjin ruts into you desperately, making both yours and Felix's eyes roll back as he matches his pace and fucks up into you as hard as he can.
You dig your nails into Felix's arms and let go, cumming and squirting around them as you clench making them both groan.
"I'm gonna cum, ah!" Hyunjin whines.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and take our cum?" Felix asks, his lips brushing yours.
"Y-yes, please." you moan, your vision cloudy as your body burns up.
All three of you are on fire and slippery from sweat, holding each other tight as Hyunjin and Felix reach climax, both of them cumming inside you, filling your pussy up to the brim, making you cum with them again.
"Shit." Felix whimpers as Hyunjin pulls out first.
Felix helps you as he lays you down and you whimper, your pussy throbbing from the stretch you just endured, all of your releases gushing out of you.
"Are you okay, beautiful?" Hyunjin hovers over you, his hands gentle on your face as Felix slowly stands up to retrieve a wet cloth and some water.
"Mm. Perfect." you smile blissfully and Hyunjin giggles, leaning down to kiss you gently, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before leaving more sweet pecks against your mouth.
Felix kneels on the bed and cleans you up gently and Hyunjin sits up, quickly kissing Felix too.
"I'm gonna go run us a bath." he says.
"Are you in any pain?" Felix asks and you can't help swooning at the thought of having two sweet men who care about you.
"No, I'm okay." you say and he smiles.
"Good." he kisses you too and before long, the three of you are in the bath together.
As always, you relax at first before one of you starts getting playful which is usually Felix who splashes Hyunjin's face with water.
It's not that different this time as you sit between Felix's legs, leaning your back on his chest, your legs on Hyunjin's thigh as he caresses your feet.
It's silent and relaxing for some time as you melt into the warm water with your two lovers until Felix decides to joke around, splashing Hyunjin's face and making him whine dramatically before he returns the favor, you being the victim in between them.
The bathroom fills with sounds of laughter, stupid insults and splashes of water for some time before you finally manage to calm down.
The three of you sleep naked that night, you between your two favorite boys, feeling like you have the whole world in your hands when you have them.
In the morning, you're tangled up with Felix, his face smushed into your chest as you hear the familiar clicks of Hyunjin's camera.
Your eyes slowly flutter open to see a still very naked Hyunjin holding his camera, a cheeky grin on his pretty face.
"Hyunjin. Were you taking pics of us?" you almost growl at him, making Felix stir.
Hyunjin giggles and then bursts into full on laughter as you sit up, grabbing a pillow and throwing at him.
Felix looks at you confusedly, his hair a royal mess and eyes barely open as Hyunjin dodges your attack only to twirl away laughing.
"You were too adorable not to!" he yelps.
"I swear I'm gonna kill you!" you yell out and Felix puts his arm around your waist, pulling you back down.
"We can kill him later, I wanna sleep more." he mumbles and you chuckle, your eyes still laced with sleep too.
"Hyun! Come join us!" you beckon and Hyunjin appears from the kitchen.
"Promise not to kill me." he pouts.
"Eh, you're safe." you say and he makes his way to the bed slowly and lays down. "For now." you add and he giggles, kissing your neck as he wraps his arm around the both of you.
You don't know where the three of you start or end, all tangled up together in the warmth of the sun and the soft sheets, but you know it would always be like that with them.
Summary: Just Felix being unable to say no to his girlfriend.
Warnings: Phew…. Double Penetration, Lots of Sex, we also got a bit of Dick on Dick action thanks to Hyunjin and Felix, a little bit of Breeding kink…. yk a little bit of this a little bit of that….Minors DNI
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Felix had never really thought of himself as a voyeur, but maybe he was. Or maybe it was just Y/N. Maybe it was just Hyunjin.
Whenever he took his girlfriend, fucked her good, he wanted people to know. His boys, especially. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was something else, but he liked it when they heard. When they knew how she moaned, how she came apart under him. And maybe—just maybe—he liked the idea of one of them stepping in.
Hyunjin, especially.
────୨ৎ────
It started as a passing thought, just a flicker in his brain during late-night practices when he was too tired to think straight. The way Hyunjin’s lips always looked plush and wet, the way his fingers were long and delicate, the way he looked at Y/N sometimes—too fast to be caught, but Felix saw. He always saw.
Then, the night in the dorm kitchen happened.
Felix should’ve pulled away when Hyunjin walked in, should’ve at least covered her up. But he didn’t. Instead, his grip on her thighs tightened, lifting her slightly, angling her just right. He wanted Hyunjin to see. See the way Y/N took him so well, see how her body responded, how she moaned into the marble countertop, breathless and needy. And Hyunjin—he didn’t leave. He didn’t say a word. He just stared, mesmerized, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Felix had fucked her harder after that.
Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop picturing what would’ve happened if Hyunjin had stepped closer. If he had bent down, taken one of Y/N’s nipples into his mouth, let her whimper against his tongue. If he had traced his fingers over her stomach, lower, lower, until—
Felix exhaled sharply.
Beside him, Y/N shifted. Then, she turned to him, eyes heavy with something unreadable. Felix set his phone down as she leaned in, her voice quiet but certain.
“I want to have sex with Hyunjin.”
His heart slammed against his ribs.
Fuck.
────୨ৎ────
Felix didn’t hesitate. He never did when it came to Y/N. His princess got what she wanted—always. And if she wanted Hyunjin, then that was exactly what she was going to get.
He had to be smart about it, though. Had to make sure Hyunjin knew this wasn’t some weird setup, wasn’t some test of loyalty. He could already imagine the way Hyunjin would furrow his brows, lips pressing into a tight line, searching Felix’s face for any sign of a trap.
“You’re serious?” Hyunjin had asked when Felix finally brought it up, voice low, careful.
Felix just smiled. “She wants you.”
Hyunjin scoffed, crossing his arms. “And you’re just… okay with that?”
Felix leaned in, his voice dropping. “More than okay.”
The disbelief lingered in Hyunjin’s eyes, but Felix saw the way his throat bobbed, the way his fingers twitched, restless. He was thinking about it. That was enough for now.
────୨ৎ────
So Felix set it up.
Y/N deserved more than some awkward, hesitant arrangement. She deserved to be wanted, to be cherished, to feel like the center of the universe. So he made sure everything was perfect—her favorite lingerie, soft lighting, the scent of vanilla lingering in the air. And then, he sent Hyunjin a simple text:
“Come to your room.”
Hyunjin walked in first, shoulders tense, still half-expecting some kind of joke. But when he saw her, all that skepticism melted away.
She was waiting for them, sprawled across his bed like she belonged there, wrapped in delicate lace, smiling so brightly it made his chest ache. Like she was the happiest girl in the world. Because Felix had given her exactly what she wanted.
Hyunjin turned his head slightly, eyes flickering to Felix.
Felix just grinned.
“Go on,” he murmured. “She’s waiting for you.”
And fuck, if that didn’t make Hyunjin’s knees weak.
Hyunjin swallowed hard, gaze flickering between Y/N—laid out so perfectly for them—and Felix, who stood beside him, entirely at ease.
“Come here,” Felix murmured, voice smooth, knowing. He stepped forward first, crawling onto the bed like he’d done a thousand times before, settling between Y/N’s legs. His hand ran up her thigh, slow, possessive, before he turned back to Hyunjin, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Let me show you what she likes.”
Y/N let out a quiet sigh as Felix’s fingers trailed over her stomach, his touch light enough to make her shiver. “She likes it when you take your time,” he continued, voice dropping lower. His fingers brushed over the lace covering her, making her hips twitch. “She likes being touched like this first—gentle, teasing. Gets her desperate for more.”
Hyunjin exhaled sharply, but he listened. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Felix’s hands, watching Y/N’s reactions, her breath hitching, her lips parting just so.
Felix glanced at Hyunjin, eyes dark with something unreadable. Then, he reached out, grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, and guided his hand over Y/N’s thigh. “Feel how warm she is?” Felix murmured. “She’s been waiting for you, too.”
Y/N whimpered, pressing into their touch, and Hyunjin felt like he was drowning.
Felix’s voice was right by his ear when he spoke again. “Kiss her,” he whispered. “She’s so pretty when she gets kissed.”
Hyunjin hesitated for half a second before leaning in, brushing his lips against Y/N’s. She melted into him immediately, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. He could taste the sweetness of her lip gloss, feel the soft hum she let out against his mouth.
And then, just as Hyunjin was getting lost in her, Felix’s fingers tilted his chin.
Hyunjin barely had time to process it before Felix kissed him.
It was slow, deliberate, a test—but also not. Felix kissed like he did everything else, confident and easy, like he already knew Hyunjin would kiss him back.
And fuck—he did.
The air in the room shifted, heavier now, hotter. Y/N whimpered between them, watching with wide, eager eyes as Felix pulled back just enough to smirk.
“See?” he murmured. “Told you this is what she wanted.”
And maybe—just maybe—it was what Felix wanted too.
Felix didn’t stop.
Hyunjin was still catching his breath from that kiss, lips tingling, head spinning, but Felix was already moving. His hands ghosted over the hem of Hyunjin’s shirt, fingers brushing bare skin as he pulled it up and off. Hyunjin let him. Let Felix undress him, piece by piece, watching as Felix’s own shirt hit the floor next.
Y/N lay between them, eyes glazed with want, her hands skimming over their bodies, exploring.
Then, Felix’s hands were back on her, tracing the straps of her lingerie, playing with the delicate lace before sliding it down, baring her inch by inch. “Perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration.
Hyunjin swallowed hard.
Felix noticed.
His smirk was slow, knowing. He tilted his head slightly, voice low, taunting. “You want to touch her?”
Hyunjin exhaled, shaky and uneven. His gaze flickered to Y/N’s, searching for permission—for confirmation that this wasn’t just Felix testing him.
She met his eyes, and for a second, she was so soft. So willing.
Then, without hesitation, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, delicate but firm, guiding him exactly where she wanted.
The first brush of his fingers against her made her gasp.
Her thighs twitched, back arching slightly, hips pressing closer to him on instinct. Warm. So fucking warm. Hyunjin swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a shudder as he watched his fingers disappear inside her.
Felix sat back, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. He was watching everything, chest rising and falling in short, uneven exhales, his pupils so blown they were nearly black.
Hyunjin worked her open, pushing deeper, curling his fingers just right.
Y/N moaned.
She spread her legs wider, giving them both a perfect view. And then, slowly, deliberately, she reached down with her free hand—using her own fingers to spread her pussy lips even more.
Hyunjin choked on air.
Felix nearly groaned.
“See how tight her pussy is?” Felix murmured, voice low and wrecked.
Hyunjin’s breathing stuttered. His fingers flexed inside her. His eyes flicked up to Felix, something dark and unreadable swirling in them.
“You kept that all for yourself?”
Felix chuckled, running a hand through his hair. His smirk widened, lazy and dangerous.
“Not anymore,” he murmured, shifting closer. His voice was a husky promise.
We stretch her out today.
Their smiles matched.
But Y/N—Y/N smiled the most.
Oh, this was heaven.
Hyunjin wasn’t hesitant anymore.
The second he had Y/N trembling under his fingers, once he saw the way Felix devoured every little reaction, something inside him snapped.
His grip tightened on her thigh. His other hand fisted the sheets beside her head. He wanted more.
Y/N let out a soft, surprised gasp as Hyunjin pushed her back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers. His eyes were wild, pupils dark, jaw clenched tight.
He wanted to ruin her.
Felix leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Let him, princess.”
And she did.
Hyunjin spread her wide, lining himself up, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. His grip on her thigh was firm, holding her still, keeping her open as he eased inside, stretching her inch by inch.
Her lips parted in a soundless moan.
Felix’s breathing hitched. His fingers flexed against his thighs.
Hyunjin let out a slow, shaking breath, his head dropping to her shoulder as her tight heat swallowed him whole. His jaw tightened, a deep groan breaking from his throat.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice wrecked, already breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”
Felix’s cock twitched painfully at the sight.
And then Hyunjin moved.
Deep. Slow. Deliberate.
A steady, claiming rhythm.
Y/N gasped, her back arching off the bed, nails dragging down Hyunjin’s arms. Her tiny, helpless whimpers filled the room, mixing with the slick sounds of her soaked pussy taking him so easily.
Felix couldn’t fucking look away.
The way Hyunjin fucked her, the way Y/N arched into it, the way her pretty little moans grew louder with every thrust—
He was gone.
“Felix,” Y/N moaned, reaching out blindly, her body shuddering between them. Desperate. Needy for her Boyfriend.
Hyunjin’s gaze flickered up, something dark and knowing swirling in his eyes. He saw it too—the way she ached for more.
“Come here,” he murmured, his voice low, husky. “She wants you.”
Felix didn’t let them ask twice.
He was on the bed in seconds, his hand sliding over her heated skin, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. His lips crashed into hers, swallowing her soft, breathy whimpers, his tongue teasing hers—hot, slick, claiming. She tasted so fucking sweet, so wrecked already, but he wanted more.
And then Hyunjin.
Felix barely had a moment to breathe before their eyes met again, their lips only a whisper apart. He could feel Hyunjin’s breath—warm, uneven —ghosting against his mouth, and suddenly, he wasn’t thinking anymore.
He just took.
Their lips collided again—this time with no hesitation, no second-guessing, no restraint.
It was Filthy.
Their tongues tangled, the kiss messy, deep, hungry, like they had been waiting for this just as much as Y/N had. Felix groaned into it, his fingers sliding lower, palming Hyunjins balls through his thrusts, feeling the way his cock buried deep inside her, the way he filled her so perfectly.
Hyunjin moaned into his mouth, the sound low and wrecked. His hips stuttered, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he fucked Y/N even harder.
Rough. Deep.
Felix felt every thrust, felt the heat radiating from them both, the damp sweat clinging to their skin. He pulled back, panting, watching the way Hyunjin’s cock disappeared into Y/N’s tight, wet pussy, the way she arched into every movement, the way her lips trembled, her eyes fluttering shut as pleasure consumed her.
She loved this. She fucking loved this.
And then Hyunjin flipped her over, pressing her down onto the bed.
Positioning her just right.
“Open your mouth for Felix,” Hyunjin murmured against her ear, his breath hot, his fingers gripping her jaw—not too rough, but just enough to make her shiver.
Y/N obeyed immediately.
Lips parting. Tongue flicking out. Eyes pleading.
Felix’s cock twitched at the sight.
“Fuck,” he muttered, a deep, low growl, his fingers threading into her hair, gripping it just tight enough to make her gasp.
Hyunjin smirked behind her, one hand sliding down the curve of her back, spreading her open, watching her drip for them.
Felix exhaled shakily. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. Rough. Possessive.
And then Hyunjin thrust into her from behind, slow and deep, while Felix slipped between her lips, groaning the second the heat of her mouth wrapped around him.
They moved in sync.
Hyunjin’s thrusts rocked her forward, forcing her to take Felix deeper, her throat tightening around him as she let out a strangled moan. Felix’s fingers flexed in her hair, his head dropping back for a moment, a breathless curse spilling from his lips.
She was so Helpless. Overwhelmed. So completely theirs.
And Felix had never fucking loved anything more.
Hyunjin met his gaze over her shoulder, his smirk all mischief.
“Wanna stretch her out more?”
Felix swore under his breath, his grip tightening.
Hyunjin smirked wider. Their hands met in a quick high-five, both of them already so fucking gone, before Felix pulled away, letting Y/N catch her breath.
But she didn’t want a break.
She whimpered at the loss, soaking the sheets beneath her, shifting, needy, desperate.
Hyunjin chuckled darkly.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, rubbing slow, teasing circles against her overstimulated clit. “You still want more?”
Y/N could barely speak, barely think—all she could do was nod.
Felix exhaled hard, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “She’s not done until we say she’s done.”
Hyunjin’s grip on her hips tightened. “Exactly.”
Felix moved her again, effortlessly flipping her onto her back, lifting her into his lap like she weighed nothing.
Her breath hitched, completely at his mercy.
“Hi, baby,” he whispered, his voice like velvet, fingers trailing down her spine, teasing, possessive.
She smiled, still breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. “Hi, sunshine.”
Felix tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes drinking in her flushed skin, her kiss-bruised lips, the dazed, blissed-out look in her gaze.
God, she was so fucking beautiful like this.
“Enjoying yourself?” he murmured, lips ghosting over her cheek, his voice a slow, delicious tease.
She nodded, a soft, desperate sound escaping her lips, her thighs squeezing around his hips.
Felix smirked.
“You know I always give you what you want,” he murmured, lining himself up with her, teasing the head of his cock against her soaked, aching entrance.
“Just ask for it. You know how much i love Spoiling you”
Felix pushed inside her, slow and deliberate, groaning at the way she squeezed around him, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Before she could even adjust—Hyunjin.
His hands found her waist, warm, firm, grounding.
His body pressed against her back, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“Breathe, baby,” Felix whispered, his lips brushing against her temple.
And then—
Hyunjin pushed in.
Right beside him.
The stretch was unreal.
Y/N’s head fell back, a strangled moan spilling from her lips as Hyunjin eased inside, the two of them filling her so completely she could barely breathe.
Felix let out a shaky exhale, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as Hyunjin groaned, gripping her hips tighter, his fingers leaving bruises.
The way her walls squeezed them both, the wet heat surrounding them, the perfect, sinful tightness—it was almost too much.
“How do you feel, baby?” Felix asked, voice gentle, breathless, wrecked.
“Is it okay?”
Behind her, Hyunjin pressed soft, teasing kisses along her jaw, his lips barely there, his hand slipping up to cradle her throat.
Her breath hitched, her body shivering, stretched so perfectly between them.
Felix’s fingers found her clit, circling slow, deliberate, coaxing, guiding her into pure, blissful surrender.
“It’s so good,” she whispered, voice trembling. So full. So overwhelmed. So desperate for more.
Hyunjin’s gaze met Felix’s over her shoulder.
Felix smirked.
Hyunjin mirrored it.
“You take two cocks so well,” Hyunjin murmured into her ear, voice smooth, thick with admiration and lust.
A shiver ran through her.
She arched back against him, pressing into the hard, muscled tones of his chest.
His arms tightened around her, securing her, owning her, holding her in place as they both pulsed deep inside her.
And then—his lips were on hers.
Plush. Warm. Needy.
A kiss that sent her spinning.
Felix took his time with her breasts, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers, his lips tracing over her throat, worshipping every inch of her.
They stayed buried inside her, letting her adjust.
But she was ready for more.
And they knew it.
When they started moving, Y/N swore she was on cloud nine.
The stretch—blissful torture.
A deep, delicious burn that made every thrust more intense, made her head spin, made her body tremble.
She was so fucking full.
Two thick, hard cocks, moving inside her, claiming her, fucking her open.
Hyunjin moaned, low, wrecked, ruined at the way she clenched around them.
Felix cursed under his breath, gripping her hips tighter, pulling her down onto them both, forcing her to take every inch.
The friction was filthy.
She could feel them, not just inside her but against each other, their cocks rubbing eachother, sending electric shocks of pleasure through all of them.
Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his hips stuttering slightly. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure.
Y/N’s nails dug into one of their arms—she didn’t even know whose.
Felix’s voice was in her ear, soft, breathless, hypnotic.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. “Taking both of us like a perfect little slut.”
“God, you feel so fucking good.”
“So tight for us, princess. You’re dripping.”
And then, Felix grabbed Hyunjin by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss over her shoulder. Messy, desperate. Tongues sliding together, Felix sucking on Hyunjin’s bottom lip like he was starved for it.
“The way your dick presses against mine is so fucking hot, Jinnie,” Felix groaned.
Hyunjin chuckled darkly, breathless. “Mhm… and this is the best pussy I’ve ever had. You’re a really good friend, Lix.”
Felix let out a breathless laugh—until Y/N shifted between them, so needy.
“Oh, look at her,” Felix cooed, a teasing edge to his voice. “We’re not giving her enough attention.”
“Sorry, princess,” Hyunjin smirked.
Their hips snapped forward in sync, harder, deeper, filling her over and over until she was nothing but moans and trembling limbs. Their hands and mouths were everywhere—hot lips dragging down her throat, rough palms gripping her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Completely surrounded. Completely taken.
She came harder than she ever had before. A cry tearing from her throat, body shaking, completely undone.
The pleasure was so overwhelming that she barely registered the way Hyunjin and Felix groaned in sync, her orgasm clenching around them, drawing them deeper into her. They had to have been heard. The entire dorm probably knew what was happening by now, but none of them cared.
The men pulled out, leaving her trembling, her body still spasming from the aftershocks. Hyunjin laid her on her back gently, pressing soft kisses to her damp forehead before pushing back inside her, sliding in so easily through the mess they had made.
Felix followed, stretching her out all over again.
Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, thrusting in tandem, driving her into another wave of overstimulation that had her eyes rolling back, her lips parted in helpless moans. It was too much, but it was perfect.
Her fucked-out state only made them more desperate—her messy hair, the deep red marks littering her soft skin, her parted lips glistening with drool. She looked ruined, and they were responsible.
And they wanted more.
When Y/N came again, they both lost it.
Hyunjin let out a deep, guttural groan, his body trembling, his grip on her tightening as if he was trying to hold himself together.
Felix bit his lip, his whole body shuddering, a choked, wrecked moan slipping from his throat.
But in the heat of the moment, their lips met again and somehow, both of them slipped out.
Y/N barely had time to process it before she saw the sight in front of her.
Felix and Hyunjin, lost in each other.
Hyunjin’s hands roamed greedily down Felix’s back, gripping his ass, squeezing, spreading him open, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin.
Felix gasped into Hyunjin’s mouth, his hips rolling forward, their leaking, rock-hard cocks rubbing together.
Y/N’s breath hitched.
Her pussy was still pulsing, loose and aching, but all she could do was watch, mesmerized, entranced, utterly ruined by the sight.
Hyunjin wasn’t gentle.
He grabbed Felix’s hips, pulling him closer, grinding against him, their cocks sliding against each other, throbbing, dripping, needy.
Felix moaned into his mouth, his fingers tangling in Hyunjin’s hair, tugging, making Hyunjin groan, making him push harder, rut against him like he needed to crawl inside him.
Felix’s hands slid lower, gripping Hyunjin’s ass in return, pulling him in, pressing their bodies together even tighter, until every inch of them was aligned, until they could feel each other’s heat, each other’s need.
Felix’s fingers trailed over Hyunjin’s nipples, teasing, pinching, making the other man gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily.
“You like that? Wanna fuck my ass someday too ?” he murmured, dragging his tongue along Hyunjin’s jaw, his throat, tasting the sweat on his skin.
Hyunjin just groaned a quiet yes, his fingers digging into Felix’s back, nails leaving faint red lines.
Y/N let out a soft, desperate moan.
This was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.
Felix and Hyunjin panting against each other’s mouths, rubbing against each other, fucking against each other, hands roaming, tongues tangled, grinding and moaning like they couldn’t get enough.
Hyunjin’s forehead dropped against Felix’s, his breath ragged, uneven.
“I’m so close,” he gasped, his voice breaking, wrecked.
Felix nodded quickly, his hips still rolling, chasing friction.
“Me too—fuck,” he choked out, his cock twitching against Hyunjin’s, so fucking close to falling apart.
And then, Y/N’s voice cut through the haze.
Hoarse, desperate, wrecked beyond belief.
“Inside me.”
Both of them froze.
Felix’s gaze snapped to hers.
Hyunjin’s fingers tightened on Felix’s skin.
They didn’t need to be told twice.
They turned their attention back to her, both pushing inside her at the same time, their cocks sliding in so easily, her pussy still greedy for more. The overstimulation made her whimper, and they groaned in sync, finally giving in.
Hyunjin shuddered, his breath hot against her skin, as he came deep inside her, Felix following moments after, moaning as he spilled into her alongside Hyunjin.
The thought of it—being so full, so completely claimed by them—made Y/N smile in satisfaction, her body utterly spent.
“Imagine if she gets knocked up by one of us,” Hyunjin murmured, still panting, his voice laced with laziness and amusement.
Y/N only hummed sleepily at the thought of their cum breeding her—not even knowing which one of them it would be.
With all of their energy drained, none of them moved. They simply stayed buried inside her, keeping her warm, adjusting so she lay comfortably between them. Their bodies pressed close, their arms wrapped around her protectively, sweat and heat mixing as they held each other.
Felix traced soft circles over Hyunjin’s arm, his other hand resting on Y/N’s stomach, possessively, tenderly.
“On a scale from one to ten, how happy are you right now?” Felix asked, his voice drowsy but warm.
Y/N barely had the strength to answer, but she smiled sleepily at Hyunjin before whispering, “Twenty.”
Hyunjin chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You cute girl.”
But she was already asleep, safe and cherished in their arms.
Spider’s note - so yeah i’m drunk again sue me . i really need me a bang chan i fear . sparsely proofead (im sorry don’t kill me) but im committed to posting more this year . (my third post in a month i think everyone clap) but yeah this is nsfw for sure so mdni. n e ways enjoy as always and take care of yourselves my bees !! <3
“Baby cmon you have to get up.” said your boyfriend Chan.
“no im so sleepy lemme stay here”. You said from above him.
You two had just finished having sex. You know the routine that follows. And normally you're quick to follow it. But after this last round, all you want to do is fall asleep.
“you can sleep after we get you cleaned up.” attempting to slip his softening dick from inside you, hissing when you wouldn’t release him. Squeezing your arm in warning.
Aftercare is important. And you both know it. Chan has had a strict after-sex routine since you both started sleeping together.
water
toilet
shower
cuddling
in that order. But you were being stubborn today. And that was concerning him. Normally you willingly comply with his demands. He only wanted to best for you. Your health and happiness are his top priority always.
With a finger under your chin, you let him gently push your head back. Beckoning you to open up. Gratefully swallowing the water he poured down your throat. Quenching a thirst you didn’t know you had.
You felt him lift you both into a sitting position. Wrapping your legs around his bare waist to keep him as close as possible. You wanted to be inside his skin. He was always so warm and strong and steadfast. And with your head spinning all you wanted was for him to be your anchor.
Closing your eyes you started to dose off. Head in the crook of his neck. Inhaling in his intoxicating scent. He smelt like sex and you. Chan kisses your shoulder and stands the both of you up. Carrying you into the bathroom. Enjoying how he makes you feel like a feather around him.
Setting you in the sink. He grips your chin so you're looking straight at him.
Let’s brush those teeth yeah? open up .”
You do as you are told earning you a “good girl” and a smile from the man in front of you. You watch his face as he prepares your toothbrush for you. Allowing him to brush and manipulate you as he sees fit.
Chris liked to treat you like a doll sometimes. You didn’t mind that much. Especially at times like this when making decisions for yourself seemed hard . he watched as you spit in a cup and smiled when you showed him your pearly whites.
Watching his defined back as he walked to cut the shower on you couldn’t help but feel hot again. It’s like this man could do anything and it’ll get you started.
Like he could read your thoughts he turned around and shook his head. Sticking his pointer finger in the water to make sure it’s a suitable temperature for you both he helps you off the sink and and into the shower.
The second the warm water hits your back you let out a moan as your muscles relax. You could beat him and laugh distantly at your antics but all you could focus on was your body unwinding. Chan lathered your body with soap, massaging gently as he went. When you attempted to wash him back he shooed you. Always wanting to be the one taking care of someone. You’ve told him it’s okay to be taken care of but he’s stubborn . and you don’t feel like ruining the moment by reminding him so you let him get away with it. Willing to revisit that later.
Stepping out of the shower he dries you off with a towel. Gently pressing against your body to not irritate your skin. Throwing one of his shirts over your head for your comfort. As he turned to leave the bathroom you grabbed his hand to stop him. Gently tracing the words “thank you” across his back. Sometimes you had trouble expressing your feelings but Chan always understood. Squeezing your hand in a silent you’re welcome.
“C'mon, now we can sleep.” pulling you along with him. falling into a pile of limbs on the mattress.
you know what i'm talkin' about. [re-upload from @chvnlix!]
MDNI (18+) - Sexual Content, Pure Smut, literally no fluff. Just sex.
genre: smut
pairing: ot8 [duos] x reader
warnings: sharing is caring <3
I have to thank one of my LOVELY anons who reblogged a LOT of my work - thank you, angel!! you're doing us all a great service by gathering these so I can repost them for others to see once more <333 hahaha
chris will share you with any of the boys - after a certain point in your relationship. it starts because of the younger aussie ogling you when you come to visit them during dance practice - and later that night chris found him outside his bedroom mid-fuck, pulling open the door to drag the other man inside and gesture to your bare body on his bed. you're panting, chest heaving and eyes lidded as you stare over at felix. he's choked up with pink cheeks, but only ten minutes later he's throat deep eating your pussy until you're gasping and choking on your tears. chris, ultimately after that, is more than happy to watch and help the others please you the same way he does. felix is more often than not the one popping around when he hears you two fucking, though. (and minho. minho comes along a lot, too.)
minho will share you with hyunjin. the two share the same lookdown on you sexually. you're smaller than them in every way, so they're both more than happy to pin you against the sheets and fuck into you until you're braindead and your eyes are rolling back into your skull. though minho isn't one to just sit back - he needs to be involved, either fucking your face while hyune takes your pussy or sucking marks over your tits while hyune eats you out with your thighs squeezing around his head. and they're absolutely going to take turns flipping you around and holding you down by your throat as they use you like you're nothing but a free use slut.
changbin will share you with jeongin. it's something about watching the youngest of the group fuck a woman who's older - and hearing him call you noona is just too cute. he's more the type to watch while it happens, absolutely in awe at the way you take charge with jeongin but not with him. you'll ride the maknae until he's damn near in tears, the mattress caving each time and bouncing and squeaking under your movements - or you'll sit on jeongin's face and rock your hips back and forth until he's sputtering and drooling and clawing at your thighs for air, which you absolutely won't give him until his ears are pink.
hyunjin will share you with changbin. hyune takes pride in his arms, in his strength and being able to hold you up while he fucks into you - but watching changbin do it is something else. it makes a rouse of jealousy stir in his chest the first time he invites the older man to fuck with you two, but the jealousy just fuels his lust and he ends up being more rough than ever. changbin is happy to kiss over your body and up your throat while hyunjin holds you by the wrists, pounding into you from behind and keeping you sat up on your knees as you whine. only when you're really putty in their hands is when he'll hand you over, knowing he did that to you - put you in that state - before letting changbin pick you up and press your back to the wall to fuck up into you.
jisung will share you with felix. the sunshine twins take pride in being able to take care of you together, and felix loves it so much when jisung hints at letting him in the bedroom with you. he'll sit back at first and let felix worship over your body until you're squirming and begging for one of their cocks - or both - before moving to your side to whisper sweet nothings and join in on the worshipping. jisung'll get more mushy than ever, fucking into you so sweetly and letting felix use your mouth or your hands or whatever he wants, before letting him have his own turn. one at a time, just to be gentle with you. and they'll both cover you in cum and grin when you're giggling, claiming you're not done and want to keep going. (though they're soft now, that doesn't mean there isn't times they'll invite you to the studio during late hours and fuck you on the couch or up against the desk.)
felix will share you with minho. he's more than happy to start things off and get your clothes on the floor before getting to the good stuff - and minho is too impatient to sit back and just watch the entire thing. he'll let you know he wants you by pressing his cock straining in his jeans right up against your hip, caging you between himself and felix while sucking marks all over your skin. he's the type to leave his presence on you - and felix doesn't seem to mind it at all. they'll fuck into you at the same time, either spitroasting or dp if you're down for it - and though felix would be alright with being done whenever, minho is the type to force multiple orgasms from you until he's satisfied. it leads to long, long nights.
seungmin will share you with jisung. it's a different dynamic, the two. seungmin is happy to shove you around and onto the bed, watching you trip over yourself and let him pull your shorts right off you to land a few hard smacks against your ass. he likes to watch you squirm - and so does jisung, of course. but he'll knead at the handprints seungmin left on you and caress over them to soothe the sting. the dynamic is also different in the sense that jisung is a needy lover. he'll rut into you like a rabbit wanting to breed, barely even pulling out before hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock. he refuses to be so far from you, too impatient and wanting to pull out all the way and leaving you moaning loud; choking and gasping and bouncing back and forth against the mattress beneath you. and when seungmin finally gets his turn it'll be the complete opposite - smooth and long strokes that make you whining for him to go just a little faster - which he of course won't listen to.
jeongin will share you with seungmin. mean, mean, mean. rough dominant men that press the side of your face into the wall, holding you by the back of your neck and slapping your ass so hard that your cheeks are pink and burning by the time they're done. the types to chuckle about it all and barely say anything to you the entire time they fuck you, using your throat until it's raw and you're drooling, tears streaking down your cheeks and jaw sore from being slack. jeongin will let seungmin do whatever he wants - use you however he wants, whatever hole, however fast. and he's the type to keep you busy and occupied even when seungmin is fucking into you, one leg thrown over his shoulder while jeongin keeps his index and middle fingers pushing down on your tongue as you stare up at him with tears in your eyes. he'll coo and watch spit pool, sliding down your cheeks while you gag and whine.
🪽… ( reaction ) have you ever tried this one ? ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 스트레이키즈 ՞
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ straykids favorite positions to fuck you in ヾ
boyfriend!스트레이키즈・ fem!reader g ・ smut cw ・ unprotected sex, oral sex ( F ), dirty talk, nsfw links. wc ・ 1.2k | click to library
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 tried something new today and added links no i cant make longer drabbles for any of these …
﹙ 𐙚 : bangchan ﹚ .ᐟ
wants you to feel all of him; he wants to be as deep as he can possibly be, that’s why nine times out of ten chan will have you folded in a mating press, stretching you out with his big cock. “fuck!” you screamed as the man above you fucked into you , holding your legs up to your chest. “deeper please.” no matter how deep he is , you want more — you want him to breed you. “fuck baby im already in your guts, how deep do you want me.” he grunted, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “want me to breed this pretty pussy.” you scream out, answering his question. “fuck yes!” moaning out feeling your cunt tightening around him. “sh-shit , that’s what you want? for me to fill this pretty pussy?” you moaned. “fu-fuck yes chan.” you moaned out. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hissed.
“gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.”
﹙ 𐙚 : lee know ﹚ .ᐟ
we all know lee know is an ass man, he’s revealed this on numerous occasions. when he fucks you, he wants you ass up so he can watch your ass recoil against him. “that’s it.” cursing , holding your hip with one hand , rutting into you. “shit keep moving that ass.” he was hypnotized by the way your ass moved. “fuck minho!” you screamed into the pillow. “fuck don’t stop.” he didn’t either , the grip on your waist tightening as he moved his hips faster. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” he breathed out. “gonna fucking cum.” he groaned , pulled out stroking his cock. “fuck im cumming!” he howled as he came all over your ass. “shit baby.” he slapped your ass, you helped out
“god i fucking love your ass so much.”
﹙ 𐙚 : changbin ﹚ .ᐟ
changbin loves to show off his strength; he doesn’t spend his days in the gym just for fun. showing you how manly he his, lifting you up and fucking you in the air. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, his hand firmly grasping your ass holding you up as he pounded into you. “oh my god changbin!” your legs dangling on the side. “fuck me!” he held you up like you were nothing. “so-so strong.” he smirked. “yo-you like that?” he stuttered out, his voice deep. “shit , you like how i can lift you up and fuck you on my fat cock. nodding dumbly, babbling nonsense. “y-yes.” he cursed , bouncing you on his cock. “pl-please be careful.” you stuttered. “do-don’t worry baby im not gonna drop you.”
“gaining these muscle just so i can fuck you like this.”
﹙ 𐙚 : hyunjin ﹚ .ᐟ
hyunjin fucking loves morning sex , rolling over on his side , spooning you pulling your clothes down, his cock hard as a rock as slid inside you, sighing in relief. “so-so warm baby.” his sexy morning voice in your ear as his hand came up u onto your boobs , feeling up your body , squeezing your boobs. “fe-feel so nice baby.” he rutted into you. “so fucking nice , i love you so much.” his hands in between your legs, rub your clit — the sun was bleeding into the room. “hy-hyune im gonna cum.” you moaned out , he opened your legs , rutting into you harder. “cum for me princess.” letting you cum, him following right after. “sh-shit baby.” he let your legs go , kissing your neck tenderly
“good morning princess , you felt so good.”
﹙ 𐙚 : han jisung ﹚ .ᐟ
just put him in between your legs and let him do his thing, han jisung certified munch ! he doesn’t care whether he’s on top or if you’re on top. as long as he can taste your sweet cunt and feel your soft tittes in his hands , he is in heaven. “shit baby keep doing that.” you moaned, hands tangled in his hair , pushing him deeper into your mound. “fuck more.” hips moving against your will, he was that good , lapping at your cunt. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hummed as you came on his tongue, coating his tongue. “fuck you taste so good.” he pulled away. “like candy.” he bought his fingers to his mouth, bringing them back to your slit. “wanna make you cum again.” he rubbed your bud.
“wanna make a mess of you.”
﹙ 𐙚 : felix ﹚ .ᐟ
ride him in his gaming chair and his life is yours. he loves this shit — you “ innocently “ sitting in his lap , which ends up with you both naked , his game long forgotten as you milked him for everything he had. “sh-shit.” he held your lower back letting you do what you wanted before he pulled you flush against him , pressing down on your lower stomach. “lixie.” he squeezed your boobs. “lo-love you feel so good wrapped around me.” he moaned. “so fucking warm.” he kissed your boobs , bucking his hips up. “lix I’m gonna cum.” you whined , he rubbed your clit. “cum for me.” he whispered into your ear. “cum for me like a good girl.” releasing all over him.
the game was long forgotten after that , he was ready to make you cum all over again.
﹙ 𐙚 : seungmin ﹚ .ᐟ
you’re always on top, but he’s always in charge. his legs flat against the bed fucking up into you , his hands yanking your back , making you scream. “sl-slut.” he growled. “letting me fuck you like this , you’re so nasty.” his thrust were brutal , your ass bright red from his previous slapping. “you like being fuck like a whore?” he asked , knowing you can’t ask. “whose whore are you.” he yanked your hair. “i asked you a question , whose whore are you?” you were a mess , trying to get the words out. “yours -fuck!- im your whore minnie.” you let out a pornographic moan. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” he let your cum , holing you down as he emptied his load inside of you , holding you close to whisper in your ear.
“that’s right , you’re my whore.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jeongin ﹚ .ᐟ
your body pressed flatly against the bed, arms pinned behind your back , jeongin kissing the sweet spot on your neck as , the kisses sweet and soft — a completely different from how deep he was inside you. “i-innie.” you babbled , he let your arms go , his hand wrapping around your neck, choking you lightly. “yo-you feel that -fuck- that’s my cock deep inside your pussy.” he grunted in your ear. “so-so deep.” he kissed your cheek. “i know baby , i know.” he moaned. “going dumb on my cock aren’t you.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head, his strokes were slow but deep. “just take it , that’s all you can do.” his hand tightening around your throat. “you can’t take it.”
“don’t you think i deserve your cum princess? i’ve been so good for you.”
he never fails to make your eyes roll back. hyunjin had been fingering you for the pass hour. four orgasms later and he still wants more out of you. hair sticking to your body as you strain against the headboard where your hands are trapped in cuffs. you’ve never been this overstimulated in your life. but you want more. want to give him more. as many as he wants.
“angel face you can give me another cant you? just one more baby please let me have it.”
his fingers speed up inside you, walls clenching as his cold rings stimulate your clit. you can feel another orgasm welling up inside you. you want to come for him so bad and with the way he’s talking to you it won’t be long now. without breaking eye contact with you, he places his lips on your clit before giving in a soft kiss and then sucking hard. that’s all it takes to have your spine arching off the bed and your orgasm ripping through you. a tear leaving your eye as he kisses your thighs as the orgasm washes over you. smiling gently as he climbs up your body to kiss your lips.
Ve’s note - bang chan x reader . this is an aladdin reimagining . also inspired by spider-man . you’ll see it . slight royalty au (?). brief allusion to parental abuse so warning . very short and very sweet drabble. not proofread ofc . enjoy my bees <3
“why don’t you let me take you away from this place?” chan asked as you leaned on the hood of his car . stargazing with him was a normal thing for you . one of your few solaces in this life you called your own .
“you know why chan .” you said with a sigh . this wasn’t the first time he broached this topic with you . he was your knight in shining armor you could only meet in the dark of night . he wanted to leave this crooked bubble but he would never do it without you . you were worlds apart . dimensions away from each other . the line between where you are and where he is so thin yet impenetrable .
“my father ….he would never approve . he would never stop hunting us . he would never be free .” you saw with a frown on your face . you were your fathers possession . the people’s princess . your life was never your from the moment you were born . your destiny being owned by the pillars that hold up your kingdom . your fate being entwined with the brown your father currently sits on and the husband he already has picked out for you .
chan grabbed your hand . bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss . he had nothing to offer you but his heart . your status putting you above him from birth . you never held that against him though . you were the first person to ever see him as more than a lower . to you he was chan , the man he loved you more than he loved himself . he would do anything for you and that scared you . your father was known for his wraith and you never wanted chan to be on the receiving end of it . having been caught up in his warpath a few times you knew better than to cross him .
“i have nothing to offer but myself my love . i have no riches no status but i’ll give you my all .” he declared as he stood up , your hand still in his as he stepped into the car you stole to come meet him at the edge of the kingdom .
“trust in me i got you my love .” and you hate how you could never deny him . not when he looks at you with eyes that bare his soul . you’ve never met someone with intentions so pure . so you step in . taking a leap of faith . he buckled you up . and started that car . panic leaping into your throat . you were really doing this . you were really making a decision for yourself and it terrified you . a hand on your thigh calmed your raging doubts .
“you ready ?” chan asked . and once you nodded in approval he hit the gas and you were gone .
Ve’s note - bang chan exes to lovers? idk just angsty but kinda fluffy not detailed smut with a no resolution ending bc i’m mean . not proofread at all . enjoy it tho ! nsfw mdni <3
“fuck i’ve missed you so much .” chan says as he kisses down your throat pulling choked sobs from you . it’s been three month since he broke up with you . but you never really stopped seeing wash other . every tuesday like clockwork you were under him . on top of him , all over him . a habit . a routine . established out of the live you still had for each other . his life was so busy . he was always so far away . he thought he wasn’t good enough for you . although he never asked your opinion on that . just ended the relationship so that he ‘couldn’t hurt you anymore’ . you still had clothes over at his place . a toothbrush in his bathroom . even your favorite mug still sat next to his in the cabinet . it’s like you never left . you’ve missed him . you felt used by him . this routine of yours was wearing you down . you didn’t know how much longer your heart could take it .
you hadn’t noticed you’d been crying until chan wiped the tears off your cheek . never stopping his movement inside you . your brain was foggy with the pleasure and pain you were experiencing at once . whispered ‘i knows’ and ‘it’s okay’ hit your ears but did nothing to calm you . stray tears turning into full sobs as your body reacted in the only way it knew how when it came to him . “baby hey breathe with me you have to breathe .” but you just kept sobbing .
mixtures of “did you ever love me ? and “don’t call me baby” “is this all i’m good for” tumbled from your lips as you slurred your words together . the pleasure you were experiencing was reaching its climax .
chan stopped his movements after hearing your words . his cock stilling inside you making you whine out . you were so close you needed this . “why would you say that my love ? of course i loved you i still love you .” you couldn’t see through the tears in your eyes but you could feel a few strays that weren’t your own landing on your torso .
“please don’t stop i need this please” you whined . the rope in you was so close to snapping . just a little but more pulling bf you’d be there .
he was hesitant “maybe we should talk about this . about us . or at least wait until you’re calmed down” and you immediately rejected that proposal .
“no i need this i need you please make me cum.” he could never deny you . not when you were pleading . so he started up again . hitting that spot in you that had your vision blurring . moans and tears coming from the both of you as you reached your highs together . he stilled inside you as he caged your body under his . protecting you from whatever this future conversation might bring .
VE’s note - concert skz brainrot . also sorry for the abrupt ending this was sitting in my drafts for a few days and i wanted it out ! not proofread . nsfw .
minho could never let you have it easy. he made you work, beg, and cry for every orgasm he gave you. and usually you never had much trouble with any of the challenges he threw your way, except for this one.
minho had just finished a concert with his group in melbourne. this leg of the tour you were so excited because it was finally approved for you to accompany minho as his plus one. although the countless stages, new countries every night, and endless airports had turned your sex life down a few notches you were still satisfied just being with him. tonight however there was a different energy in the air when you and him finally made it back to the hotel room. fresh out the shower with the towel hanging low on his waist. you needed him now and badly. but minho was just so tired and worn out, you couldn’t possibly ask him to do anything tonight when he had another show tomorrow.
“kitten what’s going on in that head of yours”
nothing . nothing but thoughts of him . you don’t even respond . just making subtle eye contact hoping that he can somehow hear your thoughts .
“ahh i know what’s wrong . you need me don’t you ? it’s been awhile since i’ve had you . come show me how good you are .”
you didn’t waste another second . with minho on his back you take the chance and slot his thigh between your legs .
“cmon kitty give me a show”
you started worked your clothed cunt back and forth on his thigh . feeling his muscles flex below you had soft whimpers coming out your mouth . it just felt too good . he’s felt too good . while you made yourself shiver on his thigh minho pulled out his cock and started stroking . every moan that left your mouth had his hips jumping off the bed .
“love seeing you get so worked up on top of me .”
“always such a good slut for me”
“god you’re going to be the death of me”
his words on encouraged you to go faster , to move harder. your own body struggling to keep up with the pace you were setting. and with minho moaning below you , it wasn’t long til you felt your orgasm building up inside you . you reached down to slide a finger up his chest and flicked his nipple and he came with a groan . the guttural sound that left him had your head spinning . thank yous leaving his mouth like a prayer . he grabbed your hips and started helping you move back and forth on his thigh.
“cum whenever you want kitten you’ve earned it . cmon little one cum for me”
his breathless permission and his bruising grip on your hips had you coming undone with a scream on your lips. your body gave out from all the exertion as you lay chest to chest with minho , just breathing together .
“you did so well. don’t be afraid to use me when you’re in need little one” he hummed. you just nodded with the energy you could muster up.
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