I Read This So Long Ago And It's Still So Good

I read this so long ago and it's still so good

if you were mine and i was yours

pairing: bang chan x reader

themes: mentions of jealousy, slight insecurity, fluff, a lil angst

synopsis: you reveal how you truly feel about the the thought of being with Chan when the boys talk about what it would be like if you dated each other but your answer leads to an unplanned confession

“I’m too jealous to date you,” you stated absentmindedly as you took another drink from your cup.

The room had fallen eerily silent at your confession. You knew you shouldn’t have indulged the guys when they started talking about what it would be like if you dated each other. It had been funny at first listening to the other guys argue until they had paired you with Chan. Obviously it was all hypothetical and just for a bit of fun—the nine of you having been friends for years now.

However, when the guys had started talking about what it would be like if you and Chan were a couple, you couldn’t seem to hold back the words you had thought of more often than not.

Keep reading

#! — 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 | hh

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: fem!reader x hyunjin

wc: 1.1k

warnings/ contents: established relationship, unprotexted sex, coming inside, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, very very soft tho enjoyy <3

req!

"No wait... let's try it- without it today."

Your voice had been desperate, whining almost as Hyunjin had pried above you, ready to glove over the condom he had ripped open impatiently prior. Sweat lacing your bodies, dripping to create a pool of mutual wetness on sheets beneath you. Eyes glowing light in the dark of the room, stars on nightly sky, and breath left your mouths in huffs of apprehension. You laid with your hair a mess on Hyunjin's pillow, supporting your head, his scent all around lulling you into depths nothing but alluring. His touch on your skin an addicting one, his kiss on your flesh as passionate as ever — you'd swear your life to had died the moment his lips had clashed yours, had come back when they'd travelled down a path from your shoulder to your navel.

And then he had bent his body over your own and towards the nightstand beside his bed, clattered with pencils and unfinished sketches of your body, and had opened the top drawer to fish for a remaining condom — and your thoughts had short circuited. You wanted to feel him closer, in absence of layers separating your bodies. With no need of protection if passion utterly great coursed your very veins, if adoration and love was the sole thing you felt — you needed to feel him nearer, and you weren’t shy to let him know of it.

Hyunjin’s eyes doubled in size, halting in his movements when you had uttered the words. Blinking at you for seconds in disbelief before cheeks painted pink and eyes became hurried, mouth opening like fish in wish to say something. Only after cocking his head and huffing out in amusement he seemed to be ready, though.

“What if you—… you’ll get pregnant baby.”

Hyunjin’s voice quiet, scared and shy almost, though within it laid anticipation. Excitement, maybe, something deeper, possibly — his pupils blown out like you’ve never seen before, body nearly trembling above your own. Breath scattered momentarily and lips quivering — his whole screamed lust if anything, need and desperation. It got to you in an instant, infected your own being and your body heated up, felt like fire burning beneath your skin. Fire ignited by him, ignited by his fervour.

“I don’t care if I do, just need to feel you.”

Words hushed, spat out in manners quick because you were growing impatient. Your hands explored the expanse of Hyunjin’s body, hot fingertips against hotter skin, playing with the dips and highs of tummy and thighs. His flesh growing bumps with every touch of you, his eyes searching for a sign of nervousness, of discomfort in your face — he couldn’t find one. His excitement mimicking your own, your longing for nearer contact, for your bodies to feel as flush as ever mirroring his. Your touch electrifying his every muscle, his every nerve, occasional squeezing of his arms or shoulders daring to take his very last breath.

He lined up with your slit, shaking hands against your core and you felt his bare tip brush against your wetness — a sensation by it’s own, and you anticipated what was to come. You felt his precum against your cunt, felt his preparing sliding, his every curve when he entered you in nature more intense — your head threw back against his pillows, your back arching to have him deeper. A feeling you wished to bask in for as long as humanly possible, discarding any other need if this was the exchange.

Hyunjin’s state not better than yours, the man panting and hips stuttering against your body, your warmth engulfing him intoxicatingly, your voice in whines and sighs pure music to his ear. His hands found their place on your body at all times, travelling around or fixating on your hips, to stabilize himself or to keep you down, he wasn’t too sure. And he couldn’t take off his eyes; not from you nor from the point where your bodies collided, where they merged into a body of one, eyes fixed on your cores or your distorted face in sheer painful desperation. Your own eyes were closed, struggling to keep them open though if you did, Hyunjin was the only sight before you — his scrunched nose and agape mouth collecting sweat, his dyed hair falling in locks and messes framing his face. His eyes travelling up and down to meet yours or to watch his ever moving hips meet yours in a dance addicting. Occasionally his head lowered in exhaustion, and he never missed the opportunity to leave wet kisses on the expanse of your neck, or to whisper affirmations of love against the lobe of your ear — antics that only drove you closer to where you needed the two of you to be, closer to a state of mere insanity.

Stuttering hips and increasing volume of skin against skin and pathetic voices indicated said state was in arms reach, ready to grab and bask in for the rest of the night. Your nails dug into the skin of Hyunjin’s shoulders, leaving traces of crescent moons on the pale canvas. Locking eyes and whining out in unison, and Hyunjin managed to pant a question.

“You sure? I’m gonna cum baby, tell me you’re sure.”

Heart melting at his care, stomach throbbing at the building tension and the raspiness of his voice, the depth and emotion it carried. His gaze fixating yours and holding until a word of confirmation left your lips, your eyes rolling back in purified ecstasy, your body trembling against his. Your walls fluttered against him and Hyunjin’s head hung low, big palm finding your lower tummy before he reached his own orgasm, broken voice and shut eyes, groping hands and wanting gaze revealing that he’s been dreaming of this moment for a long time. That he’d been waiting for you to make a first move because he wouldn’t dare have the confidence to utter such wishes, that the satisfaction of being good for you got his heart pump more blood, that the feeling of his relief within you, the way it oozed out against the sides of your cunt was everything he’d ever wanted — that the very thought of said relief would turn your belly round got Hyunjin lightheaded. You would tease him later on, when he had long pulled out to watch the white pool at your slit, when he had cleaned you up and laid beside for you to rest atop his chest — you would tease him knowing well of the look in his eyes, of the hidden wish for this one time to be enough, for his seed to put down roots. And maybe it was your unsaid wish, too.

@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @etheralsung @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts @bokjaz @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

-

You kick open your bedroom door.  As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.   

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him.  The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man.  Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best.  Lee Felix is the best.  Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter.  Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself.   He is annoyingly good at it.    

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes.  An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention.  Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind.  Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard.  Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary. 

Including the one tonight. 

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says.  He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone.  He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content. 

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave. 

“You broke his arm!” you cry.   

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment.  He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt.  He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror.   He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.   

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats.  He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.  

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic.  His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles.   That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back. 

You swallow.  The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head.  It joins the pile of discarded articles. 

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.  

“His arm,” you repeat.  “You broke his arm.  He was a completely innocent guy!  I’m allowed to flirt with guys!  Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.” 

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile. 

“Cute,” he says.  He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt.  Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk. 

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?”  Felix says.  He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer.  Not that he waits.  Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet. 

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says.  “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way.  I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone.  He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome. 

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch.  You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit.  You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation. 

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality.  Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock.  Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated.  He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.  

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed.   You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night.  You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window.  You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.    

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it.  You still need Felix.  You still share a bed.  Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not.  Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care.   If you can’t have what you want then neither can he.   You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously.  You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn. 

“Really?”  Felix says.  “Do we have to do this tonight?” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.   

“Right.”  He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed.  He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure.  His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear.   He leans on one arm, looking at you.  “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.” 

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it.  The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it.  Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it. 

His smile only deepens. 

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says.  “It’s been a long day, yeah?  And we’re both so tired.  Come on.  Let’s go.  Just need some rest I think.  Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” 

You do not move.    

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound.  He runs his hand through his hair again. 

“All right,” he says, soulfully.  “All right.  Fine.” 

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late.  Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side. 

That second is too long.  Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail.   “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap. 

“Go ahead,” he says.  “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach.  It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side.   “Well?” he asks.  “Do you want to phone him?”   

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies.  “Sorry.” 

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass.  His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again. 

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem. 

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him.  He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour. 

“I hate you,” you say again. 

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.  

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time. 

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives.  He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.  

You hate him.  You really, really do hate him.  You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof.  But you can’t do that.  You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.  

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle.  His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head. 

“Stop being silly,” he says.  “Go get ready for bed.” 

Your eyes follow him as he stands.  He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back.   Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did.   He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge. 

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still.  “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath. 

You smile, victorious. 

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask.  “You can do no wrong.  Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says.  “And I do a good job.  Okay? That’s all that matters.”   

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly.   You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him.  It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry. 

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably.  He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger.   He knows better than to just let go.   He knows you perfectly.  You glare at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again.  “I said look at me.”   He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression.  “You’re listening, yeah?” he says.  He doesn’t wait for an answer.  “You’re going to go to your closet.  Get ready for bed.  Sleep.  You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.” 

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly.  “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?” 

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings.  “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”   

Leaving the club, you were both wired.  Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm.  You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you.   He always does.  No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job. 

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions.   Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on.  It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated.  You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer.  Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs. 

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish.  Because he’s the worst. 

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—”  you start. 

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know.  You hate me.  Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet.  You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway. 

You get ready for bed.   You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room. 

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you.   You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it.   So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin. 

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake.  You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans.  He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers.  He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down. 

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you.  You roll over to face him.  His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep. 

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes. 

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest.  He opens his eyes and stares straight up. 

“I need a cuddle,” you say.  “Or I’ll have nightmares.” 

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says. 

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this.  When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him.  Now, he keep his distance.  Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you. 

So no one does.    

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas. 

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.  He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head.  He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you. 

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears. 

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this.  You just know that it was somehow worse.   Worse than being a watchdog.  Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else.   Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.  

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings.  You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other.  You watch a shiver roll down his spine.   He doesn’t turn around. 

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed.  You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears.  You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.    

Fabric rustles.  You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms.   You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else. 

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.”  He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck.  “I know.” 

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you.  He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all.  All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible.  His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling. 

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair. 

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“You know we can’t do that,” he says. 

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart.  It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you.  You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck.  “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him.  “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head. 

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says. 

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband.  “It really was.  But it felt good, didn’t it?   Dangerous.  Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible.  You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night.  Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out. 

That time was… a lot.   You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone.  It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved. 

That feeling is mutual.  Felix knew better too.   If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you.   Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist.  You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted.  It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that.   You didn’t even panic after the fact.   You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine. 

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period.   He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.  

Your father has truly never suspected a thing.  He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier.  He doesn’t know anything about Felix.  Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.  Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything.  Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.  

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say. 

He gives you no chance to say more.  One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you.  Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument.   He knows it as well as you do.  As you do his.  It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling.  He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile.  “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says. 

“What? Noooo…”  Your giggle turns into a gasp.  You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars. 

“Yes, you are,” he says.  “But you won’t win.” 

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.” 

He makes you come twice before he does.  He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall.  He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing. 

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears.  “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease.  “You totally are.”

He just giggles.  Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says.  “Got you.  Got you.  I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.  

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.   When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly. 

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own. 

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity. 

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that.  He laughs then kisses you.   The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate.  It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did.  You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back. 

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say.  You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips.  If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it.   So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say,   “I hate you so much.”   You sniffle when he wipes your tears away.   You turn your face.  “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” 

“I know,” he says in a strained voice.  He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales.   “I know, sweetheart.” 

The King of the Forest (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: WerewolfKing!Chan x HumanPrincess!Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Mild Angst | Royalty | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: As a Princess, all you’d ever been deemed good for was doing what you were told and keeping to your role, something that frustrated you beyond belief. It wasn’t until you met that young wolf in the forest that you finally realised there was more out there for you. Warnings: reader is implied to be chubby/curvy (of course, when is it not atp) · descriptive attributes of the reader are used. such as: exact age & having long hair · themes of misogyny · themes of motherhood/pregnancy · possessiveness · pet names · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: shout out to 🐧 anon for suggesting the idea of WerewolfKing!Chan x Princess!Reader in these two asks. at this point i’m convinced i’ll end up going through every possible iteration of werewolf!chan i can lol. it probably won’t go in the direction it was expected, but i hope some of you get to enjoy it regardless~ special thanks to @cursed-mars-bars & @straylightdream for beta-reading this.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: mentions and depictions of loss of ‘virginity’ · praising (duh) · oral (F.Rec) · unprotected penetration [piv] · probably body worship · marking · breeding · public sex? · cum eating (probably not in the way you expect)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

This was wrong. It was so, so wrong. At least, to the standards of some. 

As a princess, you’d been taught that all you’d ever be good for was marrying you off to a powerful family, to be used as an offering for political convenience and alliances, with no regard for your own wants and needs. That was, of course, as long as you maintained your virtue. Or what your mother referred to as ‘virtue’.

‘No man wants to own an already used glove’, you heard the Crown Prince say once, which sounded just so ridiculous to you. Not only because women were most certainly not pieces of clothing, but also because your dearest older brother had probably laid with dozens of men and women without being married himself.

Hypocrites, all of them. 

“Your–Your Majesty…” You gasped. You could feel blood rush to your head under the devious tongue of the man between your legs. Although, you weren’t sure if man was the right word to use to describe him.

He hummed, effectively sending delicious vibrations through your body that made you whine.

“I told you, pup…” He detached himself from your centre enough to speak, temporarily replacing his mouth with his fingers to rub slow circles on that bundle of nerves between yours legs. “When we’re here, just the two of us, I want you to use my name. Hm?” 

Swallowing the saliva that had collected in your mouth, you nodded.

“Say it, Your Highness. Say it with your whole chest. Relish the fact that only you get to do so”.

The movement of his fingers on your clit had your head spinning, but you needed to comply–you wanted to comply–so, after taking a deep breath, you did. “C–Chris”.

A smile formed on his lips, but it wasn’t smug, nor belittling. It was a genuine smile, one of those that always made him look his age, as if he hadn’t experienced any form of cruelty in his life, a smile that made your heart flutter in your chest. “Again”. 

“Chris…” You could barely hold eye contact anymore, it was hard to do so when your brain was trying to send you into fight or flight whenever you looked into his eyes–a feeling that completely clashed with the one building in the pit of your stomach due to Chris’ movements between your legs.

“That’s it, pup. So good for me”, you felt yourself flush, not only at his praise, but also because he returned his mouth to your centre to lightly suck on your clit.

If your father knew you were here, laying on the ground, in the middle of the forest, with the Wolf King himself feasting on your cunt, he’d surely send you to a convent to repent. Not only for ‘losing your virtue’, but also for ‘losing your morals’ by giving yourself to what he believed to be a barbaric beast.

You didn’t care, though. You never did.

Your father didn’t know Chris. He didn’t know anything that wasn’t what he’d been taught by those before him, he’d never even bothered to question it. He didn’t know that, in reality, the man you had wholly–willingly–given yourself to, was heaps more civilised than he would ever be.

“Oh…” You brought a hand to Chris’ head to bury your fingers in his hair, shivering not only at the feeling of his plush lips and his wet tongue on your clit, but also at the silky feeling of his dark strands between your fingers. You needed to hold onto something, something that could keep yourself attached to reality while he quickened the pace of his tongue.

In retrospect, you figured it was only a matter of time before you ended up here with Chris. You’d known him since you were a child. The first time you saw him he was but a young pup, a fluffy canine that had found you sitting on the ground, with your back against a tree, sobbing in the middle of the forest after you’d had an argument with your mother.

You didn’t know what he was back then, you thought he was just a regular, maybe overly friendly and domesticated wolf, but after a couple of times of seeing him in the forest, he finally revealed himself to you. You would’ve honestly never expected for an animal to shift into a boy, much less a boy like Chris.

He was so…regal.

As soon as your eyes met when he was in his human form you could immediately tell he wasn’t just some boy–not only because of the obvious furry situation, but also because of the way he carried himself, because of the way he articulated his thoughts.

After a couple of times meeting as just a boy and a girl in the forest, you got to truly learn who he was. The Prince of the Forest, he’d said. His mother led the biggest clan of lycanthropes in the vast forest, a realm that would be his in due time.

Meeting Chris had changed your view on the forest, on what your people said of this place. You’d been taught it was filled with beasts that ate people, that killed people, that deceived people… But when you met Chris, a simple boy who just so happened to also be a wolf, a boy who kept you company and understood you and respected you as an equal, you realised your father and your mother and everyone around you were all just full of shit.

It was fascinating, really. Learning the hierarchical structures of the forest as an outsider… Especially when Chris clearly trusted you enough to confide in you. Which was why, in a cruel turn of fate, by the time you were sixteen, you could no longer go to the forest to meet him.

Your father had noticed you were frequently missing, and one day, while you walked the familiar paths to your usual meeting spot, you noticed someone following you. Thankfully, it all happened before you met Chris that day, but, regretfully, it also meant that you never got to say goodbye.

You often found yourself thinking about Chris after that. Not all day, but almost every day you did. At least once… When you saw your father’s hunting dogs, when you ate something you liked, and even when you started to bloom into adulthood and your dreams bled into images of greens and the feel of smooth skin and warm lips on your own.

For your twenty-fourth birthday, your father had kindly gifted you a betrothed, probably the complete opposite of anything you could’ve possibly wanted. ‘You’re getting too old, my dear. Your younger sister already has two children of her own. It’s time you finally fulfil your duty, aren’t you happy?’

You were not happy, to say the least. You were furious. You’d managed to avoid any arrangements for years, always got the other party to call off the engagement first, but this time it wasn’t working in your favour, they’d have you marry soon after you turned twenty-five. Which was why you found yourself back in the forest. Trying to escape the sombre future ahead of you.

That was how you found Chris again, that was how Chris found you again. After almost ten years. Sobbing on the forest floor with your back against a tree and your head pressed to your knees.

You honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. There was, of course, a small light of hope in you that wished you would, but you never entertained it, it just hurt way too much if you did. However, what you also hadn’t expected, was the hurt look in his eyes, nor the tremble in his voice when he asked you ‘Why did you never come back?’

So, with a tremble of your own in your voice, you told him the chain of events that led to your disappearance. ‘I just didn’t want them to find you, Your Highness. It would’ve gotten both of us in danger’.

You could still remember how Chris cradled your face in his hands that night, rubbing away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks with his thumbs, just as he muttered a very quiet, and very soft ‘Your Majesty…’ 

The confusion must’ve been clear on your face, because he chuckled, offering a ‘It’s Your Majesty now, Your Highness. I’m King now. A lot has happened since we last met. I can tell you all of it, if you wish to hear it, but with one condition… Right here, between us, I’m just Chris, and you’re just you. Just like before…’

Just like before, he’d said… But before you’d never been that physically close to each other. Before, you’d never kissed like you needed each other to breathe. That wasn’t what you did before, but somehow it felt just so incredibly natural, almost as if you’d spent a lifetime doing so.

You did talk a lot that night in the forest, both of you. Chris told you the events that led to his coronation, about the war amongst clans that took his mother’s life as well as many others. A war that, despite the many costs, he managed to win. Just like you told him stories of your own–much less interesting stories than his, to be honest. 

You, also, lost your ‘virtue’ that very same night. You really hadn’t planned it to be that way, it just sort of happened, and you weren’t sure if it was the moonlight shining on you both, or if it was the longing accumulated during those almost ten years spent apart, but, at that moment, there was nothing more that you wanted than to feel Chris’ body against yours.

Any time his lips attached to your skin sparks of pleasure and love ignited within the deepest areas in your heart. It didn’t matter if it was on your lips, your cheeks, your chest, your tummy, your thighs, or between your legs… His kisses steadily kindled the burning flame in the pit of your stomach, making it burn bright just for him.

The pleasure you’d provided to yourself all these years had been nothing compared to how you felt with Chris. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that it was someone else that was stimulating those sacred areas of your body that no one else had ever touched, if it was the fact that you’d been in love with him practically since the day you met him in the forest over thirteen years ago, or if it was the combination of it all that had stars clouding your vision and your heart growing ten sizes in your chest… 

Regardless, you knew this would be a feeling that no one else would be able to replicate, and if there was ever someone capable of it you just didn’t want them. You wanted no one else but Chris.

It wasn’t until he’d finally soiled your tummy with his release, when he had carefully cleaned it off of you and you laid in his arms that you finally told him of your engagement. Maybe it was a bit cruel, you’d admit. To drop such a bomb on him in one of his most vulnerable moments. His eyes clouded with a dangerous mix of pain and sadness and anger.

So much of it all you did get scared for a second. Until he cradled your face in his hands and very confidently said ‘Marry me’.

You were at a loss, suddenly feeling incredibly inadequate to marry a King, even more the Wolf King of the forest. You didn’t know enough of his people, you didn’t know if they’d accept you, if you’d be fit to cater to their needs. All concerns which you voiced to Chris. He’d reassured you that his people were very different from yours, more accepting, and that you were already more than capable of leading, that he’d never wanted anyone else by his side that wasn’t you.

Over the course of a year, you got close and personal with Chris’ kind. It was honestly almost insane, maddening, how these people that shifted into beasts had shown you more kindness than your own kin. It baffled you, knowing how much pain you had endured over nothing throughout your short life when you saw just how much more socially advanced they were. Although you shouldn’t have been surprised, not when these were the people from which the man you fell madly in love with was born.

So here you were, a few days after your twenty-fifth birthday, gone without leaving a trace, just a month before your marriage to Duke WhateverHisNameWas, laying on the forest floor with only a thick coat to protect your back, and a completely different man than the one you were supposed to marry between your legs–but, admittedly, the only man you’d ever wanted.

“Chris, I’m…” You could hardly speak. Tears were collecting in your eyes, you could feel your lower belly tightening further with Chris’ diligent licks and gentle sucks, with the tight grip of his hand on your soft lower belly, and the delicious drag of his four digits inside your walls hitting your most sensitive spots.

Chris hummed in response, picking up his movements, bringing you closer to that satisfying climax you were so desperate for.

Quiet moans spilled freely from your lips once that blinding pleasure consumed you whole. Your thighs trembled, your grip on his hair tightened, and you simply let the feeling overtake every single one of your senses.

When Chris finally detached himself from your sensitive warmth, your body slumped. You were gasping for air a bit, with your eyes barely open, just enough so you could catch a glimpse of the satisfied smile on your lover’s lips before he came back up to connect his mouth with yours.

You sighed, content, looping your arms around his neck as you savoured the unmistakable taste of your pleasure still lingering on his lips.

“Are you sure about this, pup?” Chris asked when he finally pulled back. 

How considerate of him to worry about this now.

“I am. I don’t want to be anyone else’s. Just yours. Only yours”, you replied confidently, because if there was something you believed in right now was just how irrevocably his you were.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his warmth between your legs, as you felt the tip of his length drag along your folds and spread the remnants of your release all over you both. Chris looked deeply into your eyes, looking at you like you mattered, like you were someone truly important, someone he cared for.

“No one else’s”, he repeated, just as he leaned in to connect his mouth to yours again, as he finally started to push himself into you.

You whimpered at the feeling. Not only because of the undeniable stretch, but also for what it represented. What it had always represented.

Chris hushed you softly, attaching his lips to your cheeks so he could press soothing kisses on your soft skin. He took his time, slowly giving you every centimetre of him he had to offer, until he was fully sheathed within your heat. It didn’t matter if you’d done this before, if you’d taken him more times than you could count, having him fully inside was always difficult for the first few minutes, but you never complained, not when you knew just how incredibly good it would soon feel. 

“Can’t promise you I can remain this gentle, pup”, he mumbled against your cheek, just like he often did. He was capable of gentleness, but he was also capable of being incredibly unforgiving, so he always tried to give you a heads up–not like you didn’t know this already. Pressing one more kiss on your cheek for good measure, he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “I’m using every single drop of willpower to not let the beast consume me… But, fuck, you’re just so warm…”

You cradled his face in your hands, dragging your thumbs over his skin, unable to keep your eyes from shifting focus between his eyes, his nose, his lips, the tiny, barely perceptible freckles that littered his cheeks… “It’s okay, my love. Let it consume you if you must. I’m his, too, after all”.

Ever so slowly, Chris finally moved, starting a rhythm, letting you adjust to the movement of his thickness within your walls. With a hand buried in the hair on the back of his head and the other spread palm flat on his warm chest, right over his racing heart, you wrapped your legs around his waist. The movement shifted the angle of your hips, and moans fell from both of your mouths at just how deep inside of you he could reach like this. 

“That feels… Fuck…” He increased the tempo of his hips, eliciting desperate whines and moans from your mouth once he started to fully ram into you. You could feel your breasts bounce with every harsh thrust of his hips, but even if to an outsider it might’ve seemed like he was pushing your limits, this was one of the tamest versions of himself, one that balanced his human needs along with his animal ones fairly well, one you were more than acclimated to.

“Good…” You finished the sentence he’d started, throwing your head back when his cock hit your sweet spot, effectively sending jolts of pleasure up and down your spine. “Fuck… There. Right there, love”. 

“Mmm… Here?” With precise thrusts, he repeatedly stimulated those utmost sensitive areas inside your walls, making you lose your train of thought and leaving you no other option but to desperately nod to answer his question.

With a hand next to your head and the other holding on tightly to your hip, Chris kept his steady pace. The nacre moon charm that always hung from the chain around his neck continuously dragged against your chest with every thrust of his hips, the quiet tinkling it produced barely audible among the cacophony of blissed-out sounds he was coaxing out of you, and the ones you were coaxing out of him.

Chris buried himself deep inside you time and time again, until you lost track of time, gradually speeding his movements, increasing the strength in which his hips hit your soft skin.

“Close… So, so close…” He mumbled eventually, and you shivered in anticipation. 

He lowered himself on his elbows, getting close enough to start leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

“Do it, Chris”, you whispered in his ear, panting a bit, pressing one of your hands on his lower back. “Mark me, my King”.

Chris groaned, and before you knew it, he was sinking his teeth on the junction of your neck and your shoulder. The sting of his bite quickly shifted into a feeling of unadulterated ecstasy, a feeling of euphoria that spread all throughout your body, dragging searing heat in its wake.

A low, animalistic growl resonated from your lover once he reached his own climax and started to pump you full of him, of everything he had to give. You barely even registered it, too consumed by the pleasure still coursing through your body, by the feeling of his canines still attached to your skin and his unfaltering thrusts.

After a minute, with a grunt, he pushed his hips flush against yours, burying himself as deep as he could inside of you, and his movements finally stopped. His tongue soothed the fresh bite he’d left on your skin, and you shuddered a bit.

His mouth was once again on yours, kissing you deeply, just like he had always been meant to do.

When he pulled back from the kiss, Chris looked you in the eyes, softly caressing your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re all mine now, pup. Mine to keep, to love, to breed. Only mine”. 

“Always have been”, you replied simply, regarding him with a small smile on your lips. 

Chris chuckled, and he leaned down to press a brief kiss on your lips. 

He finally pulled himself away from you entirely, bringing his hands to your inner thighs so he could keep you fully spread open for him. With his eyes so focused on your centre, you suddenly felt heat creep on your cheeks–a bit of an absurd reaction, considering he’d seen your modesty innumerable times, although never after stuffing you full of his seed. That was a first.

Chris dived in again, and you trembled as you felt his warm, wet tongue lapping up your sensitive folds, gently cleaning you up.

When he was done, he straightened himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling brightly at you. 

You brought your hands to your soft lower belly, just as a bashful smile settled on your lips. “You really think I could…”

You let your question trail off, and Chris chuckled as he brought his hands to your sides. Slowly, he dragged them down to your hips, where he squeezed the plump swell of them. “When I saw you again after all these years, when I saw these hips of yours, I knew you’d be just perfect to carry my pups, love”.

“We might have to give it a few tries, though”, you extended your hand, and Chris immediately took it and helped you sit down. The coat he’d placed on the ground before he laid you on it was soft against your bare skin, and you couldn’t help but appreciate his thoughtfulness.

“Then we’ll try as many times as necessary”, Chris sat with his back against a tree, and pulled you to sit on his lap.

Resting your arms on his broad shoulders, you leaned in for a kiss, and as soon as your mouths touched, he let out a satisfied hum.

“My father is a goddamn fool for thinking he could marry me off to some guy”, you said as soon as you pulled back, burying your fingers in his hair and gently dragging them over Chris’ scalp, making him chuckle. 

He pushed your now undone hair off of your shoulder, exposing the mark he’d left so he could softly trace it with this thumb. The area was incredibly sensitive, and his tender touch made you shiver. “Doesn’t matter now. The second anyone so much as tries to take you away from me will be the moment they draw their last breath. You’re already my Queen, my love. All mine”. 

You leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his lips. Pulling back just a bit, with your mouths barely a hair’s width apart, your lips brushed against his with every whispered word that came out of your mouth. “Yours, my King”.

Maybe if your father had taken you seriously for one second in his life, you wouldn’t have ended up here, married to the King of the forest. But as Chris held you in his arms, and as he eventually helped you re-dress so he could take you to what would now be your forever home, you figured it was best not to dwell on hypotheticals, not when you finally felt this incredibly cared for and so incredibly full of love.

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Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist

❥bad idea (m)

↳ stuck in a vacation home with nobody but the most annoying man in your friend group, there’s not a lot offered to help take the edge off.

a couple of glasses of wine and a crazy idea might, though.

lee minho x fem!reader — enemies to lovers (kinda), explicit sexual content. [3.6k wc] cws: alcohol consumption. sexual cws: penetrative sex (unprotected), oral sex (m), facial, hair pulling, hatefuck (hardly cuz he’s kinda sweet), praise, dirty talk.

The saying is that “bad things come in threes.”

So, when your bus arrives and leaves all of five minutes before you get there, forcing you to rebook a ticket and wait an hour and a half in the cold, windy weather for the next — that’s one. At the time, not something you spend much thought on, it happens.

And when your friend calls you to inform you that the weather is so bad coming from her side of town that she and the car load of friends meant to accompany you at the rental home for the weekend getaway won’t be arriving until some time tomorrow morning — there’s the second. It’s not the end of the world, you think to yourself, as she explains that she’s already contacted the rental host and changed the name of the reservation into yours so that you’re able to get inside safe and sound — after all, there are worse things than having a whole, lavish, five bedroom, three bathroom house to yourself for a night.

The ‘worse things,’ of course, being the third and final ‘bad,’ as it were — hauling your bags up the brown and grey cobble stone walkway and close enough to the front porch for the motion sensor lights to finally illuminate — frankly, you’d have been happier to find a stranger, and you’re already wondering if there are any axe murderers mulling about these parts that you could contact straight away, perhaps their schedules are free and could do you a solid.

“Not you—“

You’re unsurprised that he’s the first to speak, and to say something irritating at that. Hair slightly damp and windswept, it looks as though he’s been standing out in the elements and against the door for far too long — a thought that brings you much delight; the misery of one Lee Minho.

Keep reading

The Sound of Silence

Jisung x Female reader

Word count: 4.5k

Synopsis: When you were born deaf your parents and you thought you were just like anybody born unable to hear, that is until you meet your soulmate Han Jisung.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I would like to preface this whole story and make it clear that in no way do I think there is anything wrong with deaf people. They do not need to be "fixed". If a hearing impaired person chooses hearing aids or a cochlear implant that is their choice and no one else's business. If they don't that's also their choice and no one else's business! It's just another difference between humans, your hair is brown, my eyes are green, and some people can't hear. If anything in this story comes off as offensive to someone hard of hearing or deaf please tell me and I'll remove it. Also anything bold is meant to be read as sign language. I hope you all enjoy this part of the soulmate series! If you do please reblog, like, comment, jump over to my ask box, I love hearing you all's feedback! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, strength kink (a little if you squint), oral (m&f receiving/69ing), unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cream pie, breeding kink. That should be it, I feel like the soulmate ones are all pretty tame which is okay. If I misses something please let me know and I'll add it asap!

When you were born your parents were so happy. Of course they were, they had a beautiful healthy baby girl. You were a normal happy baby, your parents had no reason to think otherwise. It wasn’t until you were a year old when your mom was taking you into daycare and a firetruck with it’s sirens on went blaring by did she have suspicions. When the loud siren flew past almost all the babies started screaming and crying, scared of the unfamiliar loud noise, all the babies but you. You laid there nuzzled against your mom’s shoulder sound asleep, didn’t even flinch. Your parents took you to the doctor who confirmed what your mother already knew. You were deaf. The strange thing was, after your examination, there was nothing the doctor could find wrong with you that could be causing the hearing loss but it was clear that you were one hundred percent deaf. 

Your mother was determined not to let that hold you back and wouldn’t let anyone treat you differently just because you couldn’t hear. When you were ready to start primary school the school board wanted to send you to the deaf school. Your mother told them you didn’t need a special school and insisted on sending you to a regular public school. She had taught you sign language since you were an infant and you were learning to read lips. As you grew the doctors tried every kind of hearing aid. Your mom was against a cochlear implant, she didn’t feel like you needed to have surgery, there was nothing wrong with you. The doctor had said so himself. None of it ever worked, you still couldn’t hear. Everyone was baffled. You didn’t know any different, so it didn’t really bother you either way. Just because it didn’t bother you didn’t mean you didn’t wish you could hear, especially certain things. Birds, music, you wish you could hear your mom’s voice because you knew how happy it would make her. You wished you could hear these things, but you couldn’t. Dwelling on it would do no good so it didn’t bother you, but everyone had a wish. 

Your mother was right about school of course. You thrived just fine at a regular public school. When you graduated high school you did so a year early, with honors. Now at twenty-three you were working towards your master's degree in literature. Single and still living with your parents. Not ideal but you worked all the time and it seemed silly to spend money on a place you’d never see. It was a light semester for you and when you were leaving one of the classes you were auditing, god you needed a life, you saw a flyer posted on a bulletin board and that immediately caught your eye. ‘Sound of Silence’ it was a study another student was doing on vibrations, music, and the deaf and he was looking for volunteers. You typed the number in your phone and texted it. 

You: Is this the sound of silence guy? 

Unknown: Uh yes? 

You: You don’t seem certain... 

Unknown: Sorry! I am I just... those flyers have been up for two months and you’re the first person to text. 

You: Oh, well I just started a class over this way and saw it. You need deaf volunteers? 

Unknown: Yes! Oh my god that would be fantastic. 

You: What exactly do I have to do? 

Unknown: It’s nothing invasive! I’ll ask you some questions and do a simple experiment 

You: Experiment? 

Unknown: It’s not like it sounds I swear! I can explain everything in more detail if you’d like to meet for coffee or something? If anything seems fishy or if you’re uncomfortable, then you just don’t have to do it. 

You: Okay which coffee place do you want to meet? 

Unknown: Really?! 

You: Yeah of course. Why not? Like you said if I don’t feel comfortable, I just don’t have to do it. 

Unknown: Okay uh does ten tomorrow morning work for you? The one on main by campus? 

You: I’ll see you there! 

Unknown: Thank you so much! My name is Jisung by the way, Han Jisung. 

You: Han Jisung I’m y/n I’ll see you at ten 

Unknown: See you at ten! 

You weren’t sure what you were doing exactly but it seemed like an interesting concept and music was THE wish. If you could only hear one thing, only one time, it would be music. Maybe he’ll show you a way to see it, you were definitely intrigued by this Jisung guy right off the bat. When you went to meet him for coffee the next day you were looking around trying to find a guy and you didn’t even know what he looked like. Suddenly a ridiculously cute guy with moppy hair and chubby cheeks was waving you over. He started signing. 

“y/n right?” You didn’t know why but you were surprised he could sign. You signed back. 

“You can just talk I can read lips.” He smiled and continued to sign. 

“I really don’t mind signing, most people tell me I talk too much anyway.” You giggled and he smiled bigger, his eyes scrunching up, they sparkled, they were such a beautiful deep brown. 

“If you don’t mind I don’t.” Turned out Jisung picked that café because they had baristas that could sign. You both ordered and Jisung started explaining just what this experiment was going to be. 

“So I’ll put a sticky little probe on your forehead in four places and I’m going to record your brain waves while I play certain instruments and songs.” You were impressed. 

“You can play musical instruments.” He smiled nodding. 

“Only a two, piano and guitar.” You shrugged. 

“Two more than I know how to play.” He smiled and shook his head. 

“Fair enough.” You and Jisung sat at the coffee shop for two hours as he explained how he had come up with such a study. His grandmother had been deaf. She had raised him most of his life, she’s who taught him to sign. She was the inspiration behind it all. He asked about your major and you explained that you were preparing a thesis for your masters in literature. You finally realized the time and you had to go, you had class. 

“Oh I’ve got to run, I have a class. Text me the details.” Jisung stood. 

“So you’ll do it?” You nodded.  

“Of course Jisung. Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there.” He grabbed your hand with both of his and shook it. Your whole body erupted in goose bumps when he touched you. Get a grip you told yourself. Jisung let go with one hand and signed thank you over and over. You giggled again and shook your head as you left to run for your next class. Jisung texted you the address and asked if that Friday after classes would be okay. You guys set the time and everything was ready to go. 

Friday was upon you. After classes you went home, washed up and changed. Nothing fancy, jeans and a hoodie. You let your mom know you were leaving to meet Jisung. You had shown her the flyer and told her about your meeting with him at the coffee shop. You mom was a little wary of you meeting a strange guy but it was on campus in the music department, it wasn’t like you were going to his apartment or anything so she kissed you and told you to be careful. When you got to the music department Jisung was already there setting up. He smiled and waved at you. 

“You made it. Fantastic. Have a seat right over here.” Jisung pulled up a chair for you and you sat. He grabbed a notebook and jumped right in. 

“Okay so questions...” You nodded smiling sweetly at him. 

“If there is anything you’re uncomfortable answering just say so and we can move on.”  

“Okay Jisung shoot.” He smiled his big toothy smile at you and you started melting. He was so cute it was almost hard to pay attention to his signing. He did start speaking while he signed and then at least you had an excuse to be staring at his lips. The questions were pretty basic, were you born deaf, what was your diagnosis, things like that. Once you were done with the questions it was time for the experiment. 

“So I want you to sit there and I’m going to play the piano and record your brain waves. Then I’m going to have you put your hands on top of the piano and I’ll play it again and record those brain waves. I’m looking to see if there’s any drastic changes or unusual readings.” That all made sense to you, at least it seemed like it should, you didn’t know shit about music or brain waves. Jisung started placing the probes on your forehead. His face was right in front of yours as he concentrated. His eyes flicked down and looked into yours, realizing only then how close he was, his heart pounding in his chest. He smiled and quickly looked back up at the probes, a little sweat forming on his temples. As soon as he was done, he wiped his face with his sleeve and walked over to the computer he had set up. He clicked the mouse and hit a few buttons before walking over to the piano. 

“Okay so just sit there and well just sit there.” You laughed and nodded. 

“Sit, got it.” He shook his head, took a deep breath and started to play the piano. You watched his movements, fluid, passionate, you could tell he loved the music, he loved making it. When he completed the song you clapped. He smiled, shy, clearly not good at accepting praise and compliments.  

“Why are you clapping I could have just elegantly mashed the keys for all you know.” You shook your head no as he walked over and punched keys on his computer again. He looked up at you. 

“I can see the music through your eyes when you play.” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the ground blushing. 

“Well thank you.” You nodded and he quickly changed the subject. 

“Okay this time just sit next to me on the bench here and put your hands on top of the piano.” You did as he said and sat down on the bench, putting your palms flat against the top of the piano. He sat next to you almost elbow to elbow and your heart started racing. You hoped that wouldn’t show up on his brain scan thing. Jisung took a deep breath again and started playing. You weren’t sure why you’d never thought to do something like this before. The vibrations of the piano tickled the tips of your fingers and your palms, you could feel the music as Jisung played. The rise and fall, the building crescendo, tears filled your eyes as, for the first time, you truly felt like you were experiencing what music was. The song felt sad, it felt lost, it felt heartbroken. When Jisung finished the song he stared at the keys in front of him for a moment, then looked up at you. When he saw the tears in your eyes his face softened. His hand came up and his thumb swiped at the tear rolling down your cheek. His palm rested gently against your face and you leaned into his warmth. Jisung started to close the space between you, his gaze fixed on his target, your lips. When his nose brushed yours you realized what was about to happen and panicked. You pulled back falling off the bench and on your ass. Jisung stood quickly. 

“Are you okay?” He tried to help you up but you quickly got up. You looked at him exactly one second and ran off. You felt like a complete idiot. You ran into the closest girls room and cried for a good ten minutes. When you finally managed to dry it up you grabbed your phone and saw the slew of texts Jisung had sent you. You opened the thread. 

Jisung: I’m so sorry... I... 

Jisung: I shouldn’t have done that I’m so sorry I made you uncomfortable. Just... are you okay? 

Jisung: I get it if you don’t want to finish the project. 

Jisung: You left your bag here. I’ll just take it to the lady at the front desk. 

Jisung: I really am sorry y/n 

Your heart ached. He didn’t make you uncomfortable, it was just a lot of intense feelings all at once between the music and him and you freaked out. Now he thought he’d done something wrong. You weren’t sure how you would face him again but you knew you had to. You cleaned up your face and headed back towards the music room Jisung had set up in. You walked through the first set of double doors and you were certain you were losing your mind all together. You could swear that you heard a soft pretty sound. Someone’s voice singing. You burst into the room and Jisung jumped, surprised to see you there. It was silent again. 

“Were you just singing?” You were signing frantically because you thought you were losing your fucking mind. Jisung looked surprised that you asked that but nodded. 

“Yea I was, how did you know?” You shook your head. 

“When you speak as you sign are you actually talking or just moving your mouth?” He shrugged.  

“I usually just move my mouth, I really prefer to just sign.” Your head kept shaking from side to side. 

“Say something.” Jisung was confused. 

“Say something. Anything.” He was brain dead not sure why you were so adamant about him saying something. You yelled. 

“SAY SOMETHING!” He yelled back startled that he was being yelled at. 

“OOOOKAY WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY!?” You stood there shocked. You heard every word he had just said. The longer you stood there wide eyed and awestruck the more sounds you noticed. The hum of the AC, birds outside, a car horn and siren. After a minute Jisung touched your shoulder and you focused on him. He signed. 

“y/n? Are you okay?” A tear rolled down your cheek. 

“I can hear Jisung.” He shook his head confused and started to sign again. 

“What do you-” You grabbed his hands and put them down. You looked into his eyes, his deep brown eyes that shined. 

“I can hear you Jisung.” 

“How is that possible?” You shrugged as tears ran down your face.  

“I... this might sound crazy but... I think we might be soulmates.” Jisung suddenly looked like a light bulb went off in his head. 

“That’s actually not crazy at all! From the moment you text messaged me I have felt this magnet pulling at me and the closer I get to you the less it pulls. Like I’m close to what it’s drawing me towards.” You stepped closer to Jisung. 

“Like this?” You stepped closer again and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. You were about to lean in and kiss him but Jisung beat you to it his lips crashing into yours as he gently held your face. He stood there holding you and kissing you for a moment, both of you feeling like a piece of a puzzle you didn’t realize you had lost was in place. You finally broke away for air. Then it hit you. 

“I’ve gotta go tell my mom!” He nodded and kissed your lips.  

“Go, text me later?” You pecked his lips. 

“I’ll call!” You dashed off to go tell your mom. To hear her voice. When you got home you ran through the front door and your mom was right there. She immediately started signing. 

“What are you running like a bat out of hell fo-” 

“Mom I can HEAR!!” Your mom was surprised you didn’t talk often, she wasn’t used to hearing your voice. She looked at you like you were crazy. 

“What are you talking about?” You grabbed your mom’s shoulders and made her look you in the eyes. 

“Mom just say it. I can hear!” She looked at you still disbelieving but spoke. 

“Sweetie, how is that possible?” You shrugged shaking your head. 

“Jisung, the guy who I was helping? I think he’s my soulmate. We almost kissed and I panicked and then I thought I heard him singing and I don’t know mom, when he spoke I could hear every little bird chirping outside the window there. I could hear him, I could hear them, and I can hear you, I can hear mom!” She wrapped her arms around you hugging you tightly as tears came to her eyes. 

“I... that... I don’t know what to say...” You squeezed your mom and your dad walked in hearing a commotion. 

“What’s going on?” Your mom turned to him. 

“She can hear.” Your dad’s brow scrunched up. 

“What?” 

“I can hear dad.” He quickly pulled you in and hugged you kissing the top of your head. 

“How on earth...” You told your dad and your mom that you would explain everything to them. You all sat in the living room and you told them about Jisung and his grandmother and his project. You told them that he seemed like a kindhearted man and that you both believed you were soulmates. Your dad agreed, there were some strange soul links, this could very well be one. Once you had explained everything and your parents exhausted their questions you felt all the events of that evening catching up with you. Your eyes were getting heavy. You excused yourself to bed and went up to your room. After you changed and crawled into bed you called Jisung. He answered on the first ring. 

“Hey Jisung.” You talked on the phone for longer than you intended to and ended up falling asleep with him still on the line. 

“y/n?” He heard your slow breaths and realized. He whispered. 

The first night in your apartment together you ordered pizza and watched tv on a mattress on the floor in the living room. After you ate you picked up your trash and put the box in the kitchen. You dug around and found some clean clothes. 

“I think you’re going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Sleep well.” Jisung hung up the phone. Unfortunately for Jisung he no longer had a deaf volunteer but he could live with that if it meant finding the love of his life. Someone else would find a flyer eventually. As it turned out Jisung didn’t have to wait too long. You asked a friend that was also deaf if he’d be interested in helping Jisung and he agreed. You decided to take a speech therapy class a couple of times, just to work out a few kinks in your pronunciation of certain letters or words.

You also went to a specialist on soul links who confirmed what you both already knew, you were in fact soulmates. You and Jisung spent every minute you could afford together when neither of you were working. After seven months Jisung asked you to move in together. Your mom was sad to see you go but glad that you were so happy, hearing or not hearing that’s all she’d ever wanted for you. Your dad insisted on coming over with his truck and helping you and Jisung get things moved in. He’d instantly taken a liking to Jisung and knew his little girl’s heart would be taken care of. 

“I’m getting in the shower.” You kissed Jisung’s pizza saucy lips and laughed as you wiped it off your lip and licked it off your thumb. 

“Maybe you should take one too.” Jisung wiggled his eyebrows at you while you grabbed your toiletries from the box labeled bathroom. 

“Together?” You giggled shaking your head. 

“No way you hog all the hot water.” He laughed and finished eating as you walked back towards the bathroom. While you took your shower you couldn’t help but get lost in the sound of the water hitting the porcelain tub. Little sounds like that surprised you still sometimes. Your thoughts wandered and before you knew it Jisung was knocking at the bathroom door. 

“You okay in there? Need some help?” You quickly rinsed and laughed as you shook your head and replied. 

“Nope all good!” You could hear him laughing through the door. You turned off the water grabbed your towel and went to dress in what would eventually be your bedroom once you unpacked everything. Jisung was at the door his lips ready for your soft, clean skin. He went in for your neck and you laughed pushing him away.  

“You’re gonna get pizza on me I just got clean!” He shook his head. 

“I washed my face.” His lips made contact and you started to melt instantly. 

“Well we’ve been moving all day and you’re stinky so go wash everything else too.” He laughed kissing the side of your head as he walked into the bathroom and you towards your room. You got dried off, put on your panties and t-shirt, wrapped your hair in your towel and went out to the bed on the living room floor. You took your hair down, climbed in, and got cozy while Jisung showered. You didn’t realize it but you had started to doze off. About twenty minutes later you were waking up to Jisung crawling into bed warm and clean. He pulled you close and you turned burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath. He smelled so good. You kissed the soft skin of his firm pec and he hummed. You kissed his collar bone and up his neck. 

“Mmm should we break the new place in?” You giggled against his skin then pressed your lips to the shell of his ear and whispered. 

“If you mean should we fuck each other's brains out on this mattress in our new living room...” You kissed that soft spot under his ear. 

“Then yes, we should.” He playfully growled and rolled on top of you, pinning you down. You were suddenly under him and at his mercy, exactly where you wanted to be. His lips ghosted over your skin. You could feel the warmth from them but they never touched you. He climbed down your body, between your legs and smirked. He pulled on your panties and you lifted your ass so he could take them off. When you were exposed for him he licked his lips and didn’t hesitate to start savoring you slowly. You gripped his hair and moaned. 

“Mmm Ji yes, that feels... fuck...” He nodded, his tongue flicking over your clit as his hands traveled up your shirt and started squeezing your breasts. He hummed as he sucked on your clit and it kind of felt like when your hands were on the piano but all over your body. You tugged at his hair harder as your impending climax rushed up on you. 

“D-don’t d-don't st-stop...” You were panting, he could feel your chest heaving under his hands as they cupped your tits and pinched your nipples softly. If you said don’t stop there was no way in hell he was. Not until you saw galaxies exploding. Your legs tightened around Jisung’s head while your universe collapsed as you came. Jisung gently kissed your thighs, running his fingertips along your buzzing skin. When you could see, hear, and everything else again you sat up pushing Jisung to his back. You pulled your shirt off and knelt next to him. Jisung hadn’t bothered getting dressed after his shower, he laid there hard ready for you. You grabbed him and started sucking on the tip of his cock. 

“Oh fuck yes! Come here jagiya.” Jisung made you move and straddle his face. He pulled you down and started going down on you again. The deeper and sloppier you sucked his dick the more he licked and sucked at your tender pussy. You deep throated Jisung and came, your legs shaking in his hands as he worked your through your second orgasm. You had to stop sucking him off and catch your breath. 

“Lay back beautiful.” Jisung turned flipping you onto your back again. He propped himself over you and ran his hand down your face. 

“I love you y/n.” Your eyes got big and watery. 

“I love you too Jisungie.” He kissed you and sank into you at the same time. You moaned against his lips as you took him. Jisung let out a breath. 

“Made for me...” He kissed you again and started a slow but steady rhythm. He was right, it was obvious that you were made for each other. Every roll of his hips made his cock brush against that soft spot inside you. You held onto his broad shoulders as he started fucking you harder. 

“Yes yes! God please faster!” Jisung picked up his pace and sweat started beading on his brow.  

“Can I cum inside you jagiya? Wanna give you my babies, god please can I?” You nodded gripping one shoulder, your other hand gripping his hair again as you looked into each other. 

“Yes Jisung god yes please cum inside me! I’m so close! Cum with me!” Jisung’s hips stuttered and you came hard around his cock as he started coming deep inside you. 

“Take it jagi, fuck, yes! That’s where it belongs baby... inside you.” Jisung thrusted deeper and then collapsed on you, breathing heavily. You ran your fingers through his hair gently as you both recovered from your orgasms. Jisung took a long deep satisfied breath and nuzzled into your breasts more, ready to fall asleep.

"I knew you'd be the best thing to ever happen to me..." Your heart swelled.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me too Jisung."

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

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