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Star never misses!!!

Kinktober Day 1: Cuckolding

[kinktober masterlist.]

🔞 Warning: smut below! mdni.

•

“What are you so busy with?” Minho inquires from his spot at your shared desk, observing the way you navigate the mousepad of your laptop with a knowing smile on your face.

“Reading comments again,” you remind him. “They really liked yesterday’s video.”

“Yeah?” Minho muses, beckoning you over with a gentle wave of his hand. “What are they saying?”

There’s a passing moment of silence as he awaits a reply- one you don’t indulge him in just yet, as your eyes scan the request for what seems like the hundredth time. The clean black text outlines a simple question, one that shouldn’t be as provocative as it is, considering it’s been published in the comment section of your very public adult film together. But the implications lie in an area too gray for even you to consider without an accompanying sense of guilt.

“What is it?” Minho asks again, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes note of the very clear concern that now washes over your features.

“It’s a little embarrassing,” you tell him, shaking your head in an attempt to brush off the question.

But Minho’s interest is already piqued at the blush that now creeps upon the apples of your cheeks, a smirk of his own present, too, as he brings two fingers up and beckons for you once more in a “come hither” motion.

“Don’t be scared,” Minho says coyly. “I don’t bite.”

As much as you want to ignore him, he’s difficult to resist when he’s sprawled over the length of the bed in nothing but a thin black tank top, one arm propping him up, while the other continues to gesture for your laptop. His biceps flex with the slightest movement of his slender fingers, and his narrowed eyes seem to bore right through your timid figure, as you finally oblige, hoisting yourself off the chair and taking reluctant strides toward him.

“Let’s see it,” Minho states confidently, allowing you to slot yourself between his muscular legs and present the bright white screen to him.

He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder as he observes the way you scroll down several comments, and then navigate the trackpad back up once more, using your middle and index finger to enlarge the text and present it to him.

Your eyes scan his out of your peripheral vision for a reaction, admiring the way his big brown eyes digest the text from left to right, eyebrows furrowing when he finishes the short sentence. And then he reads it, again. And again- and perhaps three more times, before a breathy chuckle escapes his lips.

“That’s the request?” He says simply.

“I know, right?” You retort, shaking your head to brush off the sheer ridiculousness of it. “It’s stupid.”

Stupid, absurd- wrong. But perhaps also a little fascinating- rousing, even. An admission you’d never make to Minho, of course.

Minho clears his throat once, and then the guilt settles in once more when you hear him read the request out loud this time, the boldness of his tone quickening the pulse in your chest.

“Nice video,” he begins, the same smirk present on his face, still. “I love the way she takes your cock. Would pay to watch her take a different one, while you sit and watch.”

Your face cringes as he concludes speaking, his eyes not yet leaving the laptop screen, as he brings a hand up to run it through his silky brown tresses.

And then his gaze meets yours again, as he finally produces a verbal response to the request itself.

“Stupid?” Minho repeats. “It’s not stupid. It’s kinda hot.”

His muscular arms reach out in front of him to stretch, his neck cocking left, and then right, to relieve the tension in his upper body, and then he lies flat on his back, setting the laptop aside and propping both arms behind his head.

“It is?” You question, biting your lip as he stares at the ceiling.

“Mhm,” Minho says simply. “To me, at least. But if you’re not into it, then it’s not hot. We’d have to be on the same page.”

You desperately scan his expression for a sign that he’s joking- maybe even testing your loyalty. But his eyes remain shut as you think it over, his eyelashes only fluttering open to meet your gaze as he hums in your direction.

“How do you feel about it?” Minho inquires, his expression completely serious now, as he awaits a reply,

“I mean…” you begin, intent on telling him that you’re not so keen on cheating right in front of your boyfriend. But the fact replays in your head, that Minho finds the idea of it arousing. And you do, too, erotic thoughts racing through your mind at the image of Minho getting himself off to somebody else having their way with you.

“I suppose it’s a little hot,” you say finally. His reaction isn’t some grand display of emotion- nor is it rooted anywhere in the implication that he’s testing your loyalty. He simply hums, his eyes shutting once more.

“Then quote your price to the guy,” Minho says simply. “Whatever price you want. If you’re cool with it, then I’m cool with it.”

Your lips pull into an involuntary smile at his willingness to let you explore your preferred sexual endeavors, and then you pause before responding, your eyebrows furrowing in a state of deep thought.

“Who would we even recruit for something like this?” You ask him, glancing nervously at the laptop, which has now defaulted to its screensaver. “No one would be willing to go through with this-”

“Hyunjin,” Minho interjects casually.

You turn to face his satisfied expression, his eyelids opening to meet your amused smile.

“From that party we went to, like, a month ago? What makes you think he’d agree to it?”

“Oh, please,” Minho begins. He props himself up with one arm, leaning in to graze his lips just briefly over yours, yet he doesn't kiss you.

“He wanted to fuck you so bad,” Minho explains in a voice just above a whisper. “He also offhandedly mentioned something about some intense threesome he had one time. In Paris, no less. The pretentious fucker.”

And then his lips form a pout as he kisses you for just a brief second, before pulling away again.

“Plus, he was hot. I’d kill to watch him fuck you, too.”

The room circles with heavy anticipation, neither of you saying anything as your eye contact doesn’t break from one another. And your lips seem to mirror each other as they pull into equally satisfied grins, nodding eagerly, his fingers running over the trackpad as the colorful sequence of the screensaver is broken, so that he can type out a proper response.

*

When payments are settled, Hyunjin is easily convinced one night over a conversation at a luxurious French restaurant by Minho, who doesn't even need to conclude the specifications before Hyunjin’s agreeing to it.

“You’d think he was the one offering,” Minho explains when he’s home again, half-buzzed on a glass of white wine as he indulges you in the details. “He’s almost as excited as I am.”

And on the night you’ve both agreed upon, Minho’s excitement is made evident in the way he bites back a grin, as he watches Hyunjin traverse your shared apartment’s entrance.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Minho says coyly. We’re going to be here a while, after all.”

It’s true that Hyunjin is no stranger to shared lovers and sexual escapades alike, having participated in a passionate ménage à trois in the French countryside one summer. But somehow even that was different- it was a gradual process, one that involved conversations of feelings, and futures alike. It wasn’t like this- an invitation from complete strangers, to be filmed for the whole world to gawk at.

“Up this way,” you instruct, ascending the staircase to your bedroom and beckoning for him with the wave of your index finger.

Hyunjin glances at Minho reluctantly, who ushers for him to proceed, already several steps behind you. And then he finally follows, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark blue jeans, as he meets you at the doorway of the bedroom.

“This is where the magic happens,” you say with a warm smile, leading him into your bedroom and assuming a spot at the foot of the bed.

He’s quick to observe the master bedroom you two share, glancing curiously at the photographs in nearly placed frames that line the dresser across the bed. The duvet is pulled taut across the mattress, not a wrinkle in sight as you run a hand along the beige quilted surface. A gray armchair is placed in the corner of the room by the bed, angled so that it’s in good view of the bed. And when Hyunjin’s eyes follow the path from the chair to the dresser, he finally takes notice of the very professional-looking camera, already setup on a tall, black tripod.

“This your camera?” Hyunjin inquires, making his way over and fiddling with the shutter release.

Minho nods, his eyes flickering over yours briefly, as Hyunjin’s lean figure towers over the tripod. His stature is especially alluring like this, the sculpted convexes of his biceps protruding in the thin, white tank top he sports, as he taps the screen lightly and watches the yellow box focus around your seated figure.

“Are we already recording?” Hyunjin then asks, breaking eye contact from the screen to glance at you.

“Not yet,” you say to him. “We start whenever you’re ready.”

He swallows nervously, mentally formulating how this is all going to unfold. Of course he’s already aroused by the thin black lingerie you flaunt, and from the corner of the room, Hyunjin can hear the gentle clink of Minho’s belt, as he lets it find purchase on the wooden floor. But he feels less-than-adequate at the thought of how to commence the process; much less how to do it while recording.

You rise from your spot on the bed, making your way over at the same time Hyunjin’s fingers search for the record button. His fingers seem to miss it several times over, before yours are grazing his delicate skin, pressing the button with a firm push and watching as the little red light flashes affirmatively.

Hyunjin seems to be more aware of his surroundings now that the recording’s begun, overthinking every breath that escapes from between his parted lips as he towers over you. He wonders how the moment of passing silence will translate to your thousands of viewers, or whether they’ll comment on how he’s visibly much less confident being on camera than Minho is. But when he angles his face down to meet yours, his lips parted to say something and instead grazing lightly over your own, he is confident that he wants to kiss you.

“You can kiss her,” Minho chimes in from the corner of the room, as though he can read Hyunjin’s thoughts. “She’s all yours for the evening.”

All yours, the words echo in his mind. He thinks over his granted permissions to kiss you- and subsequently to pleasure you, even though your lover sits just a chair’s length away.

And then he finally indulges himself in what he came here to do, cupping your face between his calloused palms and pulling you in for a passionate, desperate kiss. Your lips work against his like you’ve done this several times before, and suddenly it’s not Minho swirling your thoughts, but Hyunjin, who tastes like the cherry chapstick he wears on his pink lips. He walks you forward as he tilts his face the other way now, gasping between breaths as his nimble fingers find the lace trim of your bra. He doesn’t make haste to remove it just yet, instead skimming his fingers along the elastic band and letting his towering figure guide you back toward the bed. Once at the bed, it’s you who falls back first, pulling him into your lying figure with your hands around the back of his neck. Fingers weave into his long ebony locks as his mouth advances to the crook of your throat, where he pulls the flesh between his teeth and litters fresh red bruises where Minho will be sure to see them.

And from across the room, the sight is completely foreign to Minho, who’s begun to feel a little conflicted as he observes the way you arch up into Hyunjin. He takes note of the way Hyunjin has several inches on him in height, making the bed appear almost too small, as he continues to paint your neck in love bites. Minho’s eyebrows furrow a little when your bra is finally undone with the careful maneuver of Hyunjin’s fingers, and then Hyunjin parts briefly to pull his own shirt over his head.

Once bare, Minho’s eyes travel over every inch of Hyunjin’s sculpted torso, admiring the artistic v-line just below his navel. His slim waist lengthens when he leans back down to kiss you, his hands now traveling over the curves of your breasts as his thumbs graze over your nipples. And when Hyunjin’s hands find the waistband of your underwear, tugging it halfway down from its original position, Minho feels his jaw clench in what he can only understand to be jealousy.

It’s a little envying to watch how swiftly you seem to respond to Hyunjin’s touch- a gasp when he pulls your skin between his teeth, a whimper when his fingers caress the small of your back, even the flutter of your eyelashes when he quickens his movements, rutting his still-clothed crotch against your upper thigh as he aims to find some relief. But Minho is well aware that he’s the one who permitted all of this to unfold in front of him, so he just remains silent, squirming in his chair as he unfolds his crossed knees and switches the leg he has folded over the other. He watches intently as you sit up now, your hands finding the button of Hyunjin’s jeans, as you assist him in getting fully undressed.

“You’re already hard,” you muse to Hyunjin in a breathless voice. “We’ve barely kissed.”

Hyunjin chuckles sheepishly, his eyes forming little crinkles as he snakes off his jeans and allows his erection to swell against his abdomen. His eyes flicker briefly over Minho, who can hardly make out the conversation between the two of you from across the room, and then he tugs off his boxers, too, exposing himself fully to the both of you.

“Am I allowed to say I’ve dreamt about this?” He asks in a voice just above a whisper, his hand coming down to stroke the length of his shaft gently.

“Yeah?” You muse back at him. “Dreamt of fucking someone else’s partner?”

“Dreamt of fucking you,” he corrects you.

His kisses resume between the valley of your breasts, and then his hands are spreading your legs for him, palms sprawled out over your knees, gesturing for you to lie parallel to the mattress again. When you do, Hyunjin positions himself so that his face is effectively slotted between your sex, pressing a trail of kisses along your inner thighs. And Minho can do nothing but watch, mentally assuring himself that this is all just for your shared channel. He’s been in Hyunjin’s position perhaps hundreds of times- hovering over your aching body, scattering bruises along your most sensitive areas and planting his face- and typically his cock, wherever you so please. One night of sharing you certainly isn’t going to change the fact that you still belong to him- and your loyal viewers will still tune in for your sessions with Minho, first and foremost.

An audible groan emits from between Minho’s lips when he watches Hyunjin part his mouth over your glistening pussy, and even at this distance, Minho observes the way you’re practically soaking for him. Hyunjin chuckles softly over you, amused at how eager you are for his tongue. And when he finally leans in to lick a long stripe up your folds, your face tilts toward the chair on the other side of the room, where you find your eyes locked with Minho’s. Minho’s pupils seem to tremble in tandem with your shaky responses, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, as your hands instinctively lower to tangle into Hyunjin’s tresses.

Hyunjin’s movements are skillful, and it’s clear he's done this dozens of times before, his hands still upon your knees as he keeps your legs parted for him. His tongue alternates between quick strokes from your folds up to the bud of your clit, where he then takes it between his plump lips, sucking harshly and filling the room with erotic smacking sounds. Your body squirms desperately in his touch, as though you might orgasm from the mere seconds he’s been working you, and then as though he can sense it, he moves back down to just graze your entrance with his tongue.

Minho feels his cock swell in his boxers at the sight of it, your legs coming around the sides of Hyunjin’s pretty face as you allow him to devour you. Your eyes don’t leave Minho’s, your lips attempting to pull into a satisfied grin as you watch him stare. Yet you fail miserably, your mouth instead parting to let out a series of staccato gasps as Hyunjin finds your clit once again and begins to practically make out with your sensitive flesh, allowing a string of drool to escape his lips and dribble all over your aching sex.

Minho reaches up to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead, trying his best to ignore the pulsing sensation from his now completely swollen cock, his tip kissing the fabric of his boxers with every shallow breath he takes. He adjusts his position so that his legs are parted over the flat of the chair, and then he observes as you simply nod in his direction, your eyes falling to his cock, too.

He glances down at his boxers for a moment, a little embarrassed at the stain of precum that graces the dark gray fabric. His eyes scan Hyunjin’s figure again, the sharp features a complete blur to Minho now, as Hyunjin remains buried between your pussy, just his locks of ebony visible, as he darts his tongue in and out of you.

Minho cocks his head once, thinking back to the original plan which he’d established between the two of you. Let Hyunjin fuck you on camera- and then when he’d gone home for the evening, Minho would have his turn with you. No cameras, no audience- just his worked-up body, and perhaps several hours to prove he’s still better. But as Minho glances down at his crotch again, he’s now certain he won’t be able to neglect himself any longer- not when he’s right in front of the dirty sight of Hyunjin having his way with you. He slurps up your juices as though Minho doesn’t even exist, as though he’s not just a few feet from the mattress his own lover lies upon. Your legs are spread so obediently for another man, your moans swirling the room in an orchestra of pleasure, like you’re trying to get Minho hard. And maybe you are, he thinks to himself, as you seem to nod again in his direction.

Minho’s hand guides itself down to his boxers, and then he tugs down them over his bulge, allowing the cool air of the bedroom to graze his erection. He exhales sharply when his hand makes contact with his shaft, grasping himself with just enough pressure to soothe the rhythmic ache that reaches his tip. His strokes begin slow, light pants escaping his parted lips as he watches Hyunjin pleasure you. He imagines himself where Hyunjin is now, remembering what it feels like to be bent over your lying figure, his tongue darting in and out of your entrance and then tracing your anatomy as you writhe beneath him.

And his eyes scan Hyunjin, too, his plump lips forming a pout to kiss along your inner thighs, his slender fingers maneuvering from your knees to your folds now, where he slots two fingers inside of you, pumping them at a fast pace as his tongue wags back and forth in desperate motions.

Hyunjin’s biceps are more sculpted than Minho had originally taken him for, and his chiseled face is a sight to marvel at when he’s finger-fucking you like his life depends on it. If he was going to bear witness to anyone fucking his woman, he’s glad it’s Hyunjin.

Hyunjin seems to take note of the groans from across the room, coming up for a breath as he glances in Minho’s direction. His eyes scan Minho’s erect cock, and then he shoots him an almost proud smile, as he shoves his dampened hair out of his face with both hands.

“Couldn’t help yourself?” Hyunjin asks, feeling more confident than perhaps ever before.

He’s sheen with sweat, his pink lips glossed with your arousal as he catches his breath for a moment. Minho simply shakes his head, shooting him an equally amused smile as he watches Hyunjin position himself on his knees. When he does, his cock is visible again to Minho, who takes a second to properly marvel at it. He’s long, and girthy, his tip appearing just as desperate as Minho’s was, for some release. Hyunjin chuckles lightly when he observes Minho quicken his own movements, little cusses escaping his lips as he strokes himself to the sight of your legs spread for him. And then he gestures back to you with the cock of his head, before speaking.

“You gonna fuck her, or what?” Minho asks, not slowing the jerking movements of his hand.

Hyunjin chuckles again, positioning himself over you with his own cock in hand.

“I might,” Hyunjin teases, his eyes meeting yours now. He adjusts his tip so that it’s just barely grazing your entrance, and then he leans in to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“Can I?” Hyunjin asks, his mouth grazing over yours, but not kissing you.

You nod eagerly in response, glancing once at Minho, who hasn’t stopped stroking himself at the sight of you.

Hyunjin grins against you, his hand finding its way to the base of his cock again, and then he steadies himself up with his other hand behind you on the mattress, before entering you with a swift buck of his hips.

Your gaze meets Minho across the room when Hyunjin is finally inside of you, your eyebrows arching up in blissful pleasure as he begins with fast, yet calculated strokes. Hyunjin seems to have a method to the way he fucks, ramming his hips into yours, as loud squelching sounds fill the room all around you. And then he slows again, relishing in the sensation of your walls clenching eagerly around him and practically begging for him to quicken his pace again. His grunts are loud, his hot breath swirling against your sweaty skin as he fucks you tirelessly. And Minho can’t stop himself from letting out a fervent moan when Hyunjin’s nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder so he can hit an entirely new angle.

“Jesus,” Minho groans from his spot on the couch.

Hyunjin chuckles at the sight of both of you losing yourselves to his skillful movements, and he steadies your knee in the crook of his elbow as he moves a little faster now, his other hand coming down to you with your clit.

“Is this what you both wanted?” Hyunjin inquires wickedly, glancing down to admire the way his length disappears inside of you. You’re unable to control the erotic moans which escape you now, your breath hitching in the back of your throat when Hyunjin cups your face with one hand and forces your gaze onto Minho’s.

“Watch him,” he orders, also craning his neck to observe Minho’s movements.

Minho fucks his fist even faster at the attention of both your gazes, a little shy at the realization that Hyunjin appears to be waiting for him to finish. Yet when he glances between your tangled bodies, and observes the way Hyunjin ruts his hips forward only in tandem with Minho’s own strokes, he feels his cock twitch once in his grasp, much closer to his orgasm now.

“Is this what your viewers wanted?” Hyunjin asks, grinning devilishly as he speaks. “To watch me fuck her?”

Minho doesn’t reply yet, gasping as he thumbs over his tip just once.

“Must feel pretty weird watching her take another cock,” Hyunjin then remarks. “Probably wishing you were between us.”

Minho’s eyes squeeze a little at the statement, and he bites his tongue back from admitting that between Hyunjin’s toned body, and your erotic moans, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to be tongue-kissing both of you at the same time.

He can hardly respond now, simply nodding between gasps, as you watch him squirm in his own touch, desperate and on the edge of release now.

Hyunjin fucks you at a record speed now, showing no mercy as he pounds into you while Minho fucks his own fist, reckoning he can probably get you both to cum at the same time.

“Cum,” Hyunjin commands in a breathless voice, peering over his shoulder at Minho.

Minho’s eyes are shut, as the loud squelching sounds of his own precum coating his shaft fill the room. And then he lets out what Hyunjin believes to be a moan, caught somewhere in the back of his throat, as he finally catches a glance of Minho’s release. His tip shoots thick, milky strings of cum onto his toned thighs, and he throws his head back in a state of pure bliss as his hand begins to slow its movements.

From on the bed, Hyunjin can feel his own cock twitch once at the sight of Minho’s finish, and he leans in to press a sloppy kiss upon your lips as he slows his movements, too.

“Cum for me,” Hyunjin coos down at you, his disposition much calmer now. “Your boyfriend’s all finished.”

Little gasps continue to escape your lips as you attempt to kiss him back, instead failing, as your nails claw at his toned back. He thrusts into you several more times, the base of his cock grazing your clit with every stroke. And then his eyes shut, a stifled groan emitting from his plump lips, as he spills his seed into you.

You and Minho both agreed to it, but the feeling is foreign, no doubt, to have another man’s release inside of you like this. His thick white fluid coats your walls with warmth, and when he begins to thrust it back into you, is when you feel yourself let go around him, too.

Your arms wrap around the broad of his back, leg still positioned at an upward angle, as you throw your head back and feel your own release gush out of you.

For a moment, the two of you say nothing, Hyunjin simply steadying himself with one arm on the mattress as he catches his breath.

And then he pulls out again, slowly, the lewd sloshing noises filling the empty room around you.

“Jesus Christ,” Minho remarks with a breathy chuckle.

He watches Hyunjin dress his lower half again, his gaze falling to Minho’s as he fastens his belt buckle again.

“Have everything you need?” He inquires, gesturing at the camcorder. He crouches down briefly, hands sprawled on his knees, before giving the camera a polite smile and a wave.

“Everything, and then some,” Minho jokes.

You’re far too breathless to produce a coherent sentence, simply nodding at Hyunjin to relay your thanks. And then he’s at the doorway again, pulling his thin white tank top back over his torso.

“How much do you make from this shit, again?” Hyunjin asks, not turning to face either of you.

You shoot Minho a small smile, shrugging, and then call out to Hyunjin in response.

“Enough,” is all you say.

He’s quiet for a moment, adjusting the expensive silver watch you hadn’t realized he was wearing around his wrist.

“Let me know if you guys ever need another third,” Hyunjin calls back. “With that performance, safe to say we can negotiate a higher rate.”

*

I reconnected with this girl I was talking to awhile back and she told me she’s happy with her boyfriend I remember when she was telling me that she was going out on a date soon I’m so happy everything went well for her 🥹🥹

Wlw museum date (x)

LEE KNOW + DLC VIDEO MAKING FILM

16 notes 🥹

Some old photos

Bookstores always remind me that there are good things in this world.

— Vincent van Gogh

I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.

— Friedrich Nietzsche

I am such an Autumn person. Give me a quiet, cozy spot with a view of the changing trees on a crisp, late September day with a warm drink and a good book and I will be in all my glory.

who fucking litters. why do i ever see litter. who thinks that’s okay. who. who NEEDS to throw their fast food bag out the fucking window instead of waiting until they get somewhere with a trashcan. what kinda clown behavior. get fucked.

cttos <33 pinterest

@lovesdaya

Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

— Franz Kafka

Maybe if I just

🌃⊹°˖➴ in my dreams, i never have to be alone kim seungmin x f!reader (implied x yang jeongin)

summary: prologue to don't wake me, I'm dreaming of home, but can be read separately. you, seungmin and jeongin have been best friends since the day you met - more than best friends, you've been living in each other's pocket, sleeping all three in a bed more nights than not. what happens when you and seungmin climb into the frat house jacuzzi at one of their parties? lines may finally be crossed

word count: 7k words

author's note: I have no reason for this except I couldn't stop thinking about them <3 can be read separately, but I really recommend reading the whole thing because the fic is so very dear to me. if you want to know, this is the gifset I was staring at while writing this. he's so dreamy. (also I have barely had time to write so this was written over many sessions so if it sucks, pls don't even tell me lol I know it's probably not my best, but it's the best I could do)

warnings: college!au; codependent besties to lovers; (implied) mxm action, as usual; unprotected and intoxicated (but very consensual!) sex; semi-public sex; dirty talk; fingering; body hair otherwise pretty vanilla!!

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

“Y/N we can’t …” Seungmin hiccups, “we can’t do this here!”

You giggle. The world spins a little bit, the stars in the night sky all blurry and streaky. EDM music booms from inside the frat house, through the clear night air, dulled by the closed windows and doors, but still clearly audible. The night air is balmy, the first warm one of the year.

The big terrace and the lawn of the frat are empty. It’s well past midnight. Chan herded everyone inside hours ago to avoid another noise complaint. You and Seungmin stole outside to smoke, shared a joint on the steps to the side entrance, huddled together, whispering, giggling, you sitting a step below him, your head on his thigh, sleepily blinking up at him in a way that sent his mind reeling.

On your way back inside, you spot it, mostly hidden from the main windows in the living room, behind an awning. The jacuzzi. One glance into the living room tells you that you’re alone. The party is in full swing, nobody’s watching. You don’t need any more of an excuse.

Alcohol makes you giddy and impulsive.

“Ah, come ooooon,” you singsong, already skipping over to it, kicking your sneakers and pulling your socks off. Seungmin follows, footing uneven, his sense of reason floating about five feet above his head, courtesy of the drinks and the weed and the energy and maybe even the cloudless night and the first smell of summer on the air.

The jacuzzi bubbles, shimmers an inviting light blue. It’s one of those nights where you feel invincible. Like the world was made for you. These are the nights you will tell your children about once they’re all grown up, you think. The nights that will prove to them that their Mom used to be cool, too.

You cross your arms, take a hold of the hem of your thin knit jumper, and pull it over your head without hesitation. The tank top you’re wearing underneath it follows. You don’t look back to see if Seungmin is watching. Something deep inside you hopes he is.

Alcohol makes you giddy and impulsive. Weed makes you horny and makes you want the two people you know you can’t have. Makes you toe the line, hoping you’ll stumble and finally fall across it.

“You know Innie would do it, if he were here,” you hum as you pop the button of your jeans.

Seungmin sucks in a breath. He could stop, he could not look, but your back is facing towards him. And he’s watched you plenty of times before, secretly, through a crack in the door, or not so secretly, before you crawled into bed with him and Jeongin, eyes greedily raking over any inch of skin you granted him to see. And a part of him wonders if you want him to watch. If you feel it all, too.

You shuck your jeans down your soft thighs, bend over to push them the rest of the way and kick them off your legs, and the rational part of Seungmin’s brain is fighting a losing battle. He thanks his lucky stars that he doesn’t get hard easily because you’re already descending into the hot, bubbling water, the fabric of your underwear clinging to you, before you turn around, waving him towards you with a smile on your face that spells trouble. Seungmin wonders if tonight will be the night that everything changes.

The jacuzzi is warm, but goosebumps race over your skin nonetheless. Maybe it’s the cool night air on your wet shoulders, or the weed, or the thrill of being out here while everyone else is inside. Or maybe it’s the way Seungmin is looking at you, his face unreadable, as always, but his eyes glimmering with something you don’t dare name. You lick your lips, and watch deliriously as Seungmin’s eyes follow the motion as if in a trance.

You smile, lift your finger, crook it, motion for him to come closer. He hesitates for only a second before he does.

Without taking his eyes off you, he toes off his sneakers, pulls off his socks, and finds the hem of his shirt with his hands. Tonight, you don’t look away. Watch him reveal inch after inch of milky, soft skin, stretched taut over his skinny frame. There’s a shadow of a happy trail under his belly button that you know too well, having spent too many stolen moments committing it to memory. His chest isn’t thick, but sweetly defined, his nipples pebbling in the cool night air. There’s a smattering of soft, dark brown hair curling on his chest. His collarbones look like they could cut glass, give him the air of a statue hewn from marble.

Then he pulls the shirt the rest of the way off, and he meets your eyes again, and you don’t know if you’re terrible at hiding just how much you want him, but you think his chest is starting to rise and fall more rapidly. Then his long, gorgeous hands find the fly of his jeans and your mouth goes dry.

Your eyes, glued to his hands as he undoes his pants, nearly makes Seungmin lose his head. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the way you’re looking at him, or if you’re not looking at him in any way at all, and he’s just imagining it.

He pops the button, drags the zipper of his jeans down. You blink, like you’re coming out of a daze, then your gaze shoots up, your eyes meet his and heat licks up his spine. He realises he’s on borrowed time now, only precious little time to get undressed and into the water before he can no longer hide what you do to him. And he’d rather not find out like that, if wishful thinking has made him delusional.

You watch as he shoves his pants down, your gaze dropping right back down, over the swell of his cock in his briefs, mouth-wateringly heavy-looking even just like this, then down further, over the soft skin of his thighs, the sparse hair that decorates it. When his pants are finally off, your heart is in your throat, your fingertips aching for him to get in, to come closer, even if your courage fails you, even if you don’t get to touch him, just so he’s at least closer, but …

You huff out a laugh.

Seungmin looks up from where he’s haphazardly folding his jeans to throw them where his shoes are and meets your sparkling eyes, giggling.

“What?!”

“Just …” you laugh, the weed making every giggle fizz bliss through your veins like they’re filled with champagne, “just … god, just leave them and get in here.”

You hope Seungmin can’t hear the neediness colouring your voice. Seungmin does hear it. It makes his dick start filling out in earnest, and he throws his jeans out of dodge. He throws his jeans out of dodge quickly (he still doesn’t want them to get dirty and wet, he’d prefer not to have to walk home all the way across campus in only his wet boxers, thank you very much) and takes his first step into the fizzing water. It’s pleasantly warm. The bubbles of the jets tingle on his skin, sensitive from the weed.

Under your watchful eyes, he takes the next step, then another, until he finally sinks down onto the little bench opposite you, warm water lapping up to his chest, a bubble jet massaging his side.

You both freeze there for a moment, but you never stop looking at him, and it’s not like Seungmin can tear his eyes away from you. Your body is mostly hidden, miles of soft skin, hidden under the bubbling water washing against you, droplets beading on your shoulders. Your face is bathed in light blue, shadow and light dancing over your skin, making your eyes sparkle with every movement. A smudge of mascara under your left eye. A sore spot on your lip where you’ve no doubt been biting it, a habit you never could shake. Somewhere inside, the music is still playing, but it feels like the source of it, the party you escaped from, is half a world away. Like there’s only you and him in this moment. Seungmin’s heart hammers in his chest. It’s not the first time he felt like he was standing right at the precipice of something, with you and Jeongin, like one careless movement could change everything. But it’s never, ever felt this real.

Your breathless laugh breaks the silence, makes Seungmin’s eyes flick back up from where they were glued to your lips. Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, your whole body screaming for him. You get up on shaky legs, watch Seungmin’s eyes dip down to the swell of your tits in your wet bra for only a split second before they’re back to being trained on your face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It almost makes you laugh. He’s adorable. You take a tentative step forward.

“Why are you all the way over there …”_

And really, you’re clumsy on a good day, much like Jeongin is. Seungmin makes fun of you for it at least once a week, calling you a danger to yourself and society, taking hot pans and sharp knives out of your hands, his heart thumping in his chest. So he shouldn’t be surprised, when you take a step, your eyes widen, and your foot finds a smooth piece of the floor, instead of one that is covered in those little bumps that are meant to prevent just that – and tumble forwards.

You manage to catch yourself with a hand on the side of the jacuzzi next to Seungmin’s head, but you would’ve slipped sideways, maybe cracked your skull open, if his arm hadn’t shot out, as if on instinct, catching you mid-fall, wrapping securely around your waist and letting you down gently on the bench next to him, one of your legs draped over his lap and–

Oh. He caught you, of course he did, he always catches you, but … you’re so close. He’s right in front of you.

Your Seungmin. Your and Jeongin’s Seungmin. Your best friend. Your home. With his broad nose and his full lips, his cupid’s bow so pretty and kissable, his perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed in concern, probably because you just nearly fell, but you can’t care about that. His concern makes him look all serious and stern, his big, dark eyes, at half-mast, fluttering down to your lips. When he looks back in your eyes, all the sternness melts. Into something softer, something hungrier, something that you greedily wish was made just for you. It’s irresistible. You stare into his eyes. He stares back, his eyes flitting back down to your lips.

And you don’t know who leans in first, but his lips find yours and the only thing you can think is finally.

His lips are plump and as soft as they look, and they move against yours without a shred of hesitation, the tip of his nose pressing into your cheek. His hand comes up behind your head, nudges your head to the side, gently slides his hot, velvet tongue into your mouth and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life.

When his tongue brushes against yours, you let out a choked moan that goes straight between Seungmin’s legs and if he was needy before, he feels like he’s starving now. He kisses you deeper, presses closer, feels your fingers run up his chest, over his shoulders, up to the sides of his neck, pulling him closer in turn, pressing your sweet lips against his harder, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth, and he follows, desperately, blindly, until you lose your balance and nearly fall backwards into the water again, but he tightens his arm around you just in time, uses his grip on you to haul you up and into his lap, a wave of water lapping over the side of the jacuzzi as you come to rest there, your knees on either side of his hips, your pretty ass on his thighs.

For all the times you’ve touched, all the times you’ve sat in his lap, you’ve never crossed this line. He thinks it’s because you both knew that if you had, you would’ve ended up right here.

You blink at him, your lips, swollen, kiss slick and slightly parted in the most adorable little o and then wet hands slide into the hair at the back of his head, and you’re kissing him again, so deeply and greedily arousal lances through him and his hips stutter up into nothing. His dick is hard. Just a little bit of kissing with you, and he’s full-mast, absolutely rock fucking hard and aching. He would laugh if your tongue wasn’t in his mouth and he wasn’t trying to not lose his damn mind.

He winds his arm around your waist, but he doesn’t even have to pull – you drag yourself closer all on your own, chest pressing against his, your hips dragging forwards until oh good god.

He doesn’t dare move, sitting there with you perched basically on his cock, you sucking his tongue into your mouth because … because … There’s not enough … fuck, there’s not enough fabric between you. Your chest is covered, but he can feel your belly against his, the softness of your arms over his shoulders, your naked waist under his palms – and your barely clothed heat right above his cock, only separated by two flimsy pieces of soaking wet cotton that allow him … he drags you closer, kisses you harder, his breath hot and heavy against your tongue, trying to distract himself but also selfishly, foolishly, desperately needing you closer because – fuck, he can feel every single curve of your pussy against his cock, and he has never wanted anyone as badly before in his life.

Your hand slides deeper into Seungmin’s hair, tugs just enough to make his breath hitch, as you slowly, carefully, experimentally grind your hips forward, carding through the short black hair as you kiss him, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him groan into your lips desperately.

Your other hand slides down, explores every inch of him you can reach, gliding over the skin of Seungmin’s shoulder, his arms. When your palm drags down his chest, grazes his nipple, smoothes up towards his collarbones and his neck, his cock twitches underneath you and, shit, you knew Seungmin was big (though not too big, you always thought, judging from the stolen glances when he was in his boxers or his sweats – long and thick in just the right proportions that he would probably feel heavily inside of you) but feeling the thickness of his cock drag against your barely clothed centre makes him feel so much bigger.

You would be nervous, but you know you can take it; have shoved several fingers into yourself on nights alone in your room, or those few nights when it was just you, alone in Seungmin’s bed, pressing their pillows into your nose, dreaming of Seungmin, dreaming of Jeongin … The thought of Jeongin nearly makes you buckle under the weight of your longing. Your mind is still hazy, and it’s ridiculously easy to imagine what it would be like if he were here with you, instead of back home, for his grandma’s birthday. If he was right here, in this damn frat house jacuzzi, almost naked, too, his eyes dark, the tips of his hair dripping rivulets of water that run down his toned, thick chest. You find it simultaneously easy and difficult to imagine what he would be like, maybe because you know him so well. Your mind wanders. You imagine the heat of his body behind you, his beautiful, big, knobby hands wrapping around your body, one cupping your breasts, the other reaching out further, sliding into Seungmin’s short, dark hair, tugging even harder than you are, or maybe softly cupping his face … You imagine his hard cock, rutting against your ass as he leans over to drag Seungmin into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss …

You whimper into Seungmin’s lips and Seungmin’s swears he gets dizzy, with you, the heat of the jacuzzi, the grind of your pussy over his cock, your greedy, demanding hands mapping out each and every inch of his body. It’s everything he wanted, but he can’t help it, his mind wanders because it inevitably always does, to you and … to Jeongin.

Seungmin’s hand runs down, smoothes over the plush of your ass, down your thighs and up to your ass again, and he wonders, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if Jeongin was here.

The mental image of him, sitting in one of the deck chairs, leaning back casually, maybe, his ridiculously built arms crossed over his thick chest, that stupidly cocky grin on his face, narrow, foxy, almost predatory eyes locked onto you and Seungmin, watching you, watching the filthy kisses and Seungmin’s hands and the way you’re rutting your pussy over him, the water doing nothing to hide what’s going on. God, keep going, imaginary Jeongin says, laughs, leans forward, brings one hand down to palm his cock, I’ve been wanting this for years …

Seungmin nearly comes, right there and then, only holds on by a thread and an ungodly amount of self-control, his fingers digging into your hips, forcing you to still.

His head falls back with a quiet groan, eyebrows drawn together and when his head lolls back forward, your breath hitches in your throat. He looks wrecked. He looks beautiful. You’re so fucking in love with him.

“Y/Nie,” he whispers, screws his eyes shut, but you interrupt him.

“Don’t tell me to stop. Please, don’t tell me to stop.”

It’s a breathless whisper, your eyes glued to his lips, your wet hands coming up to cup his face, one of your thumbs swiping over his cheek. His heart aches. He blinks. His heart cracks open. His feelings bleed out of his fingertips and into your skin.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he murmurs, and you meet his eyes. And you understand. The smile that tugs on your lips is beautiful, lit as it is by the blue of the jacuzzi, and he’s helpless. He’s so fucking in love with you.

He winds his hand around the back of your neck, leans up and crashes his lips back into yours.

This time it’s you who pulls away, breathing hard, pressing your forehead against his like being any further away from him would physically hurt you. Your eyes meet.

“Jeongin,” you mutter, and you look so worried. But Seungmin knows. He’s seen how you look at him, how your eyes follow him across any room. How you always stretch an arm over him when he’s in the middle, so you can touch Jeongin, too. He has worried, agonised, of course, whether it was him, only him, but now, with you in his lap and all the love in the world in your eyes, all he can do is let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “me, too.”

You pull back a little, far enough that you can see his entire face.

“You … too?”

It makes nerves bubble in his veins. He’s not good with words, never has been. He thought he could get away with not having to take the chance, not having to say it.

“You’re in love with him,” he says, almost matter-of-factly. The blush blooming on his cheeks says otherwise. You blink at him, then huff in defeat. Here goes nothing. You hope he kissed you like that because he loves you back.

“I … I am, but … I’m also in love with you.”

You say it so sweetly, so calmly. His belly erupts into butterflies.

“M-me, too,” he mumbles, pulls you closer again until he can kiss your lips softly. “Both of you. Always have been.”

You let the words sink in. You laugh out in disbelief. Something in your chest clicks into place.

“Do you …” you start, leaning in to nudge your nose against Seungmin’s. His eyes flutter shut in a movement so vulnerable it sends your heart into a flurry. “D-do you think he loves us, too?”

Seungmin smiles almost sadly, drags you closer, presses a kiss to your cheek, all without opening his eyes once.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully.

Your lips brush against the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then his jaw. The gesture is so soft it makes his heart skip a beat. He runs a thumb over the skin of your lower back.

“I think he might …” you murmur, press another kiss to the bottom of his jaw that makes him shiver, despite the warmth of the water.

“Yeah?”

Seungmin asks, and you nod. You press a sloppy, wet kiss against his neck and his cock twitches. God, he’s so turned on.

Gently, he coaxes your face from his neck, cups your face until you’re looking into his eyes again. His other hand disappears back under the water, to your thigh, wandering up, hooking a finger under the waistband of your panties at the side of your waist. Your breath hitches and he smiles at you, makes sure you’re listening, before he manages to get it out.

“And just for the record, I love you, too,” he mumbles, and you stare at him for only a split second before you dive in.

The kiss this time is much less gentle. It’s sloppy, giddy, your smile brushing against the one he can’t hold back any more, pressing your body closer, swivelling your hips down over his cock, still half hard, despite all the talking. The finger he has hooked into your panties drives you fucking crazy. With one of your hands still buried in his hair, you let the other find his there.

When you pull it away from your body, you feel him falter, like he’s about to pull back and apologize, but when you slowly guide his hand between your legs, he shudders out a breath. And he doesn’t need to be told twice, though his breath comes shallower as his fingertips gently brush you over the cotton, the water making everything feel so different, but still mind-numbingly good, but still not even nearly enough.

“Come on,” you mutter, kiss him again, let your tongue dip into his mouth and right back out, making him chase your lips, “touch me. I’ve … ah I’ve waited too long for this.”

And to his credit, he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slip the material of your panties to the side, and then his middle and ring finger slide over your clit, wet and slippery with the water, and your head falls forward, your forehead thunking against his almost painfully.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. He rubs at your clit softly, gently, before dipping down, exploring you with his fingers. They’re sure in their touches, almost practised, and the thought makes jealousy flare up in your chest. You’ve only known him, known them, for two years, but that had always felt like a fluke. Like something had gone wrong somewhere, like you were meant to have grown up with them, meant to have been there to be their first, to not have to deal with the knowledge that there was someone before you.

Seungmin dips the tip of his ring finger inside of you, does a little twirling motion with it that makes you half insane with need. You rock your hips down, causing his finger to slip in to the first knuckle, and he sucks in a breath. You kiss it away, hips still moving in little movements, gentle fucking yourself on his finger. And he lets you. Just kisses you back, offers you his hand to hump, and it’s infuriating.

“Seung, please, for the love of God,” you huff against his lips, and he laughs, breathlessly, “I know you’re trying to be all gentle and shit, but I trust you, I’ve been waiting for this for two years, I need you inside of me yesterday.”

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, but there’s something deep, swirling in his eyes, before he pulls your hips down and buries his finger into you to the knuckle. His other hand, that’s still resting on your waist, traces a tortuously slow pace up your side. He leans forward, presses his lips to the wet, salty skin of your neck, sucks. You hope it leaves a mark.

“Two years …” he breathes. He fucks his finger into you, slowly but deeply, and it makes pleasure shiver down your spine. Then he crooks his finger, rubs the pad of it against your walls, and you can’t hold back the helpless twitching of your hips into his touch.

You nod blindly, but you can’t think of anything but the feeling of him inside of you

“M-more, pl-please,” you murmur, and this time you don’t have to wait. Seungmin bullies a second finger inside of you, and you sigh, eyes screwing shut because the pressure is so good. He sets a slow pace, fingering you open on his fingers so deeply and intentionally that you nearly double over, your thighs threatening to start trembling with every brush of his knuckles over your g-spot.

Seungmin knows he’s staring, but he can’t rip his eyes away. You look like a vision, better than any of his dirtiest dreams, better than any porn he’s ever watched; not like that ever did much for him, anyway. But you, towering over him, one of your hands on his shoulder, nails digging into skin, your eyes shut, head thrown back, sinful mouth open, moaning softly – your bra strap fallen down your arm, back arched, your tits jiggling with every bounce as you take your pleasure from him, fuck yourself on his fingers … it’s insane. He’s insane.

“Fuck, I love your fingers,” you babble, almost drunkenly. Seungmin’s chest swells with pride. “You have the nicest hands I’ve ever seen. Except maybe Innie’s.”

Seungmin’s guts burn with arousal. Should he be jealous? He’s not. He huffs out a laugh, but it’s gravelly.

“Except Innie’s, huh,” he teases, and watches as your lips pull into a smile. He crooks his fingers and you moan through it. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You lean down, find his lips, lick into his mouth filthily.

“You don’t think so?” you murmur into his mouth, and suddenly Seungmin understands the game you want to play. You unravel him with one sentence.

“Do you think I don’t see when you stare at his hands? Like last week, when he touched your thigh …”

Seungmin shivers. Last week, when you were all lounging on Seungmin’s couch on their phones, sending each other TikToks back and forth, when Jeongin’s hand had casually found his knee, slid up to rest on his thigh, just high enough to brush against the fabric of his shorts that had ridden up. Seungmin thought he had been at least a little bit subtle, though he knows his eyes were glued to Jeongin’s beautiful hand, his long fingers, the heavy silver ring, his thumb over his skin. He didn’t know you were watching then. God, you had been watching.

He shudders, and you huff out a laugh, though he can hear how much this affects, you, too. You fuck yourself down on his fingers harder, and it rips another twin moan out of both of you.

“W-wanna f-feel you both,” you whisper, and Seungmin’s thoughts spiral, imagines what it would feel like, Jeongin’s fingers, trailing up his wrist, up his own fingers, pushing inside of you alongside his, knuckles grinding against his as you writhe and beg above them, stretched, riding their fingers, begging for …

“Fuck,” he gasps out, the moan that follows louder than any sound he has ever heard himself make. His hips stutter up hard, make a wave of water rush out of the jacuzzi, soaking the wooden deck surrounding it.

You laugh, grind on his hand, your heart thundering in your chest. You feel manic. Insane. Drunk and high and everything in between.

“F-fuck, baby, fuck,” Seungmin curses. His brain feels like it’s about to leak out of his ears. “I never thought I would say this but, fuck, please let me fuck you. Please. I’m going insane.”

Another laugh, light as air, but with something laced into it Seungmin has never heard before. He feels crazed.

You tug at his wrist, enough to let him know to remove his fingers from you, and he complies, nearly loses his head when he feels your fingers tug his boxers down. It’s all a little bit awkward in the water, with you perched on his lap, but somehow you manage it. You suck in a breath when his cock finally springs free. He tries not to let it get to his head but fails spectacularly.

“Like what you see?” he teases, trying to play off just how affected he is. You wrap your hand around him, start stroking him torturously slowly and hum in agreement. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth with a soft laugh and a lazy grin that’s infuriatingly hot.

“Do you have any idea,” you mutter, press a kiss to his lips, “how often,” another kiss, “I’ve woken up,” another, deeper now, as you pull your underwear off your legs, “with your or Innie’s hard on pressing into my ass?”

Seungmin can’t help but laugh, but it’s breathless. He nearly chokes when he feels the head of his cock nudge against your folds. Everything suddenly feels too hot.

Your eyes get softer, and then you sink down.

“I’ve been dreaming of you for years,” you murmur and bottom out, and Seungmin feels like the breath is punched out of him. His hands fly to your hips, your back, trying ground himself because the feeling of you wrapped around him, so tight and hot and inviting is nothing short of overwhelming.

When he’s buried in you to the hilt you pause, take a moment to get used to the stretch, to the overwhelming knowledge that it’s Seungmin inside you, his hands on your body, his beautiful dark eyes staring into yours, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth like he’s trying to hold on, too.

It’s surprisingly comforting to be here, in his lap, your nails scratching over his scalp, your chest pressed against his, skin on skin. But then again, it makes sense. It’s Seungmin. You’ve always been safe with him.

You let your forehead fall forwards, come to rest against his again, before you carefully raise yourself up until only the tip of his cock is buried in you, before you sink down again. Seungmin moans, deeply, gutturally, slides down the seat of the jacuzzi to give you more room, to angle his hips and when you fuck yourself down on him again, it’s so good you nearly collapse into his arms.

His hand on your hip is steady, strong, and he uses it to coax you back up, then down, until you’re starting to set a steady rhythm. It’s pathetic, really, how gone you are, your thighs already shaking, but the pressure of him, the way he fills you and drags against you – it’s perfect. He’s perfect. You’re so close already.

He drags the hot palm of his free hand up your spine, settles between your shoulder blades, drags you forward, until he can press his face against your sternum, his hot breath ghosting over you, before he starts pressing kisses there, travelling from there to your collarbones, down the swell of your breasts. You loosen one of your hands from where they were digging into his shoulders to drag down the cup of your bra and Seungmin groans and immediately latches his mouth onto your nipple, lapping at it, sucking it into his mouth, making you sob out in pleasure. Nobody has ever made you feel this way before, and you have no idea if it’s because it’s him, or because you’re in love, or because your bodies are just that perfect for each other.

Your belly burns with pleasure, hot and tight with an orgasm that is building, but can’t be reached because your legs are trembling, and the stupid water makes it difficult to set any kind of faster rhythm, and the frustration makes tears build in your eyes until you can’t hold back the frustrated sob.

Seungmin’s head shoots up, and he stares at you worriedly for only a second, before he puts two and two together. Carefully, he lifts you up until his cock slips out of you, pecking your lips when you let out a pitiful whimper at the loss, and then he wraps an arm around your waist, supports himself on the back of the jacuzzi and hoists himself to his feet. You squeal, tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, cling to his shoulders, but he doesn’t stand for long, instead turns, places you down on your back on the decking of the jacuzzi, your ass sitting perfectly on the edge, before he all but crawls over you, his arms next to your head, his legs still in the water.

“Please, don’t cry … that just … that made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel,” he grumbles out, his pupils blown, eyebrows furrowed together like he can’t believe what he’s saying and God, you love him so much. You giggle, drag him closer until you can pull him into a filthy kiss, one he reciprocates immediately. You pull back, swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, watch in fascination as Seungmin’s mouth opens, his tongue darts out to lick at it.

You look at him with all the fake coyness you can muster.

“You don’t wanna make me cry on your cock?”

Seungmin groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he half-heartedly punches the decking next to you.

“Oh God, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, and your heart swells. You run your hand down his back, drag your nails over his skin until he shivers.

“You can’t die, we need to tell Jeongin we love him, still,” you giggle, completely, stupidly, desperately in love, and Seungmin laughs into the skin of your neck.

“God, I hope he loves us back,” he mumbles, before he pushes himself upright, his eyes still glued to you, but his whole body on display for you, and wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking himself. You don’t even know where to look.

“Me, too,” you breathe, watch as Seungmin runs a reverent hand down the side of your thigh, wraps your leg around his waist, leans in, lines up his cock and pushes back into you in one smooth movement. The moan you let out sounds like a sigh of relief.

“F-fuck,” he stutters out, “I’ll never get used to this.”

You only whimper in return, a sweet, pitiful sound that stokes more of that fucked up fire in the pit of Seungmin’s stomach. He always knew sleeping with you or Jeongin would rock his fucking world, nothing like high school girlfriends and ill-fated, casual club hookups that didn’t care to learn what he wanted. He always knew sleeping with someone he was in love with would be it for him – but nothing compares to the real thing. He’s obsessed. Utterly, and entirely fucking obsessed with the way you look like this, the way you wrap around his cock like you were made for him, the way you trust him so easily, let him take care of you, the way your features he knows so well helplessly fall into pleasure. It makes him feel drunk on bliss, his whole body burning, every sensation dialled up to 11. You blink at him, your eyes rolling back for a second when he fucks into you deep, and then you reach out; stretch out your hands, tug at his arm until he folds himself over you, and you drag him into a kiss that makes him groan into your mouth.

The kiss is sticky and hot and wet and messy and your legs are wrapped around his waist, hips rocking up to meet every one of his thrusts, and he knows he won’t last long. And it gets even harder to hold on when he fucks into you, bottoms out and grinds his cock in deeper and probably grinds over your clit because you tighten and gush around him so hot and constricting that it makes the world around you blur into the background, his mind, his body, everything, filled with you you you.

His hips work almost by themselves, something animalistic in the way he thrusts you into you, trying to go deeper, get closer. His nails dig into the wood of the deck, his other, shaky hand wrapping around your thigh, trying to hold you in place as he fucks you into you like a madman, spurred on by every moan, every gasp, every delirious little sound he manages to pull out of you.

He’s hurtling towards his orgasm so fast he can barely catch his breath and warn you, slurring something half-conscious into your lips that makes your hands fly to his ass, angle him to grind into you just right, and he’s rewarded with a quiver of your walls around him that punches the breath out of him.

He fucks into you, chasing his high, your high, moans tumbling freely from his mouth right into yours, slick lips sliding over slick lips, hot breath colliding until you squirm, grind into him just as he grinds into you, and then you’re coming, right underneath him. Your back arches, your breath catches in your throat, and you sob out in pleasure, your cunt clenching around him so tightly he can barely move, but it’s enough to send him hurtling over the edge as well. He pulls back, not too far because he feels like he might die if he does, but just enough so he can slip his cock out of you and fist himself desperately until his toes curl and his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he spills, hot and heavy, all over your belly.

When he’s spent, he collapses into your arms. It only takes a few seconds before post-nut clarity hits him like a truck; suddenly, he can feel the ache in his thighs and the pruning of his fingers, remembers where you are when the music from the frat house slowly filters into his consciousness. Before he can freak out, he buries his face in your neck, forces himself to take a few deep breaths, lets the realisation that he can touch you like this now, without hesitating, without overthinking it, soothe him. You’re his. Nothing can hurt him now. You run soft fingertips down his spine. If this is aftercare, he realizes now, it’s what he has always needed.

Slowly, gently, he pulls back, until he can see your face. Sleepy, lax with pleasure, make up smudged and a small smile on your face. Gorgeous. He has to force himself to look away. To turn, to fish his soaked boxers out of the jacuzzi, using them to wipe gingerly between your legs, wipe his sticky cum off your abdomen.

You’re quiet, until you’re not, and your words make him freeze.

“Why did you pull out? Do you hate me?”

Seungmin blinks at you, the shock and disbelief on his face so serious it makes your poker face slip immediately, and you dissolve into giggles. You feel like you’re floating, booze and weed and the hormones from your orgasm making you feel like you’re barely there.

“Just kidding, thanks for not getting me pregnant,” you sigh, when your giggles have calmed down, and Seungmin huffs and rolls his eyes, but it’s different this time. He doesn’t turn away, instead dips in to press a quick kiss to your lips, less as a response to what you said, more to reassure himself that this is real because the way his heart is aching with affection for you and how needy he’s suddenly feeling is threatening to make him freak out.

Your lips are still hot and swollen and pliant, but the kiss itself is softer now. A lazy, loving dance of tongues, your fingers tracing the shape of his jaw, threading through the hair on the side of his head. He shivers, and not because of the cold night air.

When you pull back, you’re smiling. Seungmin’s heart seizes. “We’ll talk to Jeongin,” he says, watches as your eyes soften even further, a devastating little sigh drips past your lips. You nod.

“After his game?” you ask, sadly. You don’t need to say anything else. Seungmin understands. But it doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t ache at the thought of having to resist making every one of his dreams a reality and having to keep something from Jeongin for two whole weeks. But he knows you’re right. You can’t risk it. There’s too much riding on Jeongin’s game.

“After his game,” he agrees.

You kiss him again, sweet and quick, then deeper until his mind is fuzzy, but then something shatters in the house and there’s yelling and Seungmin once again realizes that you’re both naked in the frat house yard with half the college just a few yards away. He gets up, stretches his hand out for you to take, and pulls you to your feet.

“Let’s go home, yeah? Before someone realizes we just fucked in their jacuzzi.”

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

The cutest little outfits!!!

*cough cough*announcement....I got Lee bit and dwaekki new clothes

There’s a possibility that I may move or be able to visit California more 🥹

My dad doesn’t get the point of depression and anxiety to him it’s us being lazy when it’s not

New doodle dropped on my instagram

A bee landed on me 🐝❤️

HYUNJIN | VERSACE MFW 24

Some people don’t want to hear this but sometimes accessibility is not sustainable or eco-friendly. Disabled people sometimes need straws, or pre-made meals in plastic containers, or single-use items. Just because you can work with your foods in their least processed and packaged form doesn’t mean everyone else can.

HORSESHOE CRABS OMG I LOVE THEM

quick 7 minute horseshoe crab