A Requested Drummer Boyfriend!san One-shot

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar. 

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime? 

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rests in his hand with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out. 

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other. 

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him now, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curved into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your boot- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.” 

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips and San mirrors it instinctively.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.” 

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build. 

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think. 

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?” 

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.” 

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses. 

“Yes, good… v-very.” 

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.” 

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath. 

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose. 

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.” 

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock. 

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips. 

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles. 

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns. 

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth. 

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically,  as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs. 

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor. 

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him. 

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it. 

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously. 

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side. 

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release. 

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately. 

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank  you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...” 

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been. 

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

clair de lune. (m) - part seven

genre; yandere, vampire!au, reincarnation! au angst, smut

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count: 23k

warnings; manipulation, explicit scenes, murder, blood, smut, gaslighting, prior abuse/assault mentioned, knives, wounds, brief talk of religion, mass murder

summary; you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?

note: this first deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read.

masterlist | final

Keep reading

---

chiaroscuro (m.l)

Mark Lee, choice of medium: Charcoal, Graphite, Ink, and…you???

ao3 | m.list | minors dni !! | please reblog and leave feedback on my works.

wordcount―20.3k

pairing―mark lee x fem reader (ft. hongjoong of ateez)

description―the romanticization of art school is typical and no one romanticizes it more than mark lee, the too-confident messy-haired guy who, accidentally, makes people uncomfortable. to you though? it’s kind of flattering to become his focus. 

content―college au, art student mark lee, he’s kind of creepy, y/n is also kind of creepy, jealous mark, desperate smut, art talk, hongjoong fwb, a lot of hickies,  mark is a horny college student with a reputation for making “weird” art of people

warnings―mentions of scars, bruises, and other features against skin that could imply abuse or trauma. I also tried to be as inclusive as possible, but please note that this fic includes the idea of charcoal smeared against skin and hickies.I am not intentionally leaving anyone out. If wording needs to be changed to be more inclusive, please message me.

note―shoutout to my favorite person @domjaehyun​ ​ for hearing me talk about how I fantasize about mark on campus as an art student, then mentioning that he would totally leave messy charcoal fingerprints all over you. also huge thanks to her for helping me word some things for better inclusivity! 

not proofread, because you should know by now that i don’t like that kind of lifestyle. 

taglist: @aedreamzy, @ahgastayzen​

Keep reading

---

ugh. vampire chan. not gonna lie i was expecting big old meanie vampire but a soft one? one soft and a simp for his girl? LET ME AT HIM NOW.

Monarchs: Blood Favor

Pairing: Vampire Chan x Human Fem Reader

Summary: Chan is a great leader. You’ve known him your whole life. You trust him. You also trust him to teach you new things after things escalate between you.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI due to adult content. Blood feeding, Virgin MC/inexperienced MC, MC has a praise kink, corruption kink, size kink if you squint, fingering, unprotected sex/PIV, heavy use of petnames(Baby, baby girl, good girl. I have to. It’s Chris.)

Word Count: 10,800 and some change

Author’s Note: Oh my god I’m finally updating this series. It’s been a year! Holy cow! I’m sorry! 😭 I will say I’m not sorry for this Chan. 😤 He’s a 300 year old vampire with a consenting virgin in his lap. Enjoy though. I’m glad I finally got this baby out. And those who have been invested in the series let me know if you caught some references and I’d love to know what upcoming fic in the series you’re excited for!

Tag List: @lee--felix, @nymeriaaa, @hyuckilstan, @9900z, @jess-1404 , @formysakeamaryllis, @skzflix-au, @downforseochangbin, @lotus-dly, @cb97percent, @moasworld, @nixtape-foryou, @skizzel-reblogs, @svintsandghosts, @jeyelleohe, @starryoong, @djeniryuu, @toplinelix (Message me if you would liked to be added or removed. You’ll be notified when I post!)

Scared doesn’t cover what you felt as you sat in the office waiting for the vampire leader. Chan, as you knew him, agreed to meet you when you sent a letter asking to speak to him. You needed a favor, or rather, his help. Your father is sick, and the bills are piling up. As a last attempt, you hoped for Chan’s graciousness after 40 years of your father’s work for him. 

The door opening behind you causes you to turn around to face it. You hadn’t seen the leader up close in a while. The same as you remembered him. His undead state preserved his appearance. 

He took confident strides across the office to where his desk sat. The courage you had vanished. A dark aura surrounds Chan. Despite being a compassionate leader, he is an indisputable, powerful creature. You saw what his men could do with less strength. 

Now here you sat pestering him when he had more pressing matters to deal with. You planned to keep your conversation short and to the point of avoiding dragging out the situation. The longer you stay in the same room with him, the quicker you’ll fall apart from intimidation. Even knowing Chan since childhood, he still scared you and the last thing you wanted was to anger him. 

He sat down with a huff, giving all his attention to you. “I am sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“No, I wasn’t waiting long.” You shook your head as you sat down across from him. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Of course. How is your father doing? I meant to check in. Unfortunately, I have been busy.”

“Sir, forgive me.” You clutched your hands in your lap, trying to hide your anxious trembling. The daunting image of your frail, sick father haunted you to the point you might cry. He needed your support now more than ever. “He’s not doing well. Felix believes there is better care outside the city. I don’t have the funds. I hoped you might help.”

Chan’s deadpan expression was impossible to read. Is he upset? Angry at the request? There was no shift in his tone when he spoke, either. “How much are you asking for?”

“Five thousand. I have done everything minus the business. I can not sell it. It’s providing for my family and it’s my home.”

“I am not a charity. Running a town to keep the humans here safe from what is outside those walls is my job. I can not just give every struggling family inside money.”

“I understand that, I do. But I also know how much good my father does for you and without him, it has hindered you and your newborns. If he recovers, he can—”

Chan had cut you off mid-sentence, his tone harsher. “So you are expecting me to just help you? What do I get?”

“Sir, I have nothing to offer you.” Your mind raced, searching for words to say. There were no other options left. You needed to convince him to help you. Your father didn’t deserve to die from not being able to accept the care he needed. “He has given you so much of his time. Not once disappointed you. I am asking you for the generosity of your heart.”

“What heart? I am undead.” Chan looked amused by your words as a smile appeared on his face. He sifted in his seat, hands now clasped together, resting in his lap. His piercing gaze is tearing you down by the second. Doubt filled you, telling you wouldn’t get any help here. All you wanted was to disappear. Let the ground open up and swallow you whole. Anything that was an escape from the moment right now. You perked up hearing him speak again. “You have something to offer me.”

 “I will give it to you. Just tell me what, and I will.” You said without hesitation. Not caring if you sounded eager.

“You have your blood. That’s what you can offer me.” You were uncertain of his meaning, taken aback by his words. Asking for clarification, feeling discouraged the longer he went on. “I’m sure you are aware of stock workers.”

Yes, you were indeed familiar with the job. There were people in town that dedicated their life supplying sustenance. The workers paid to be fed from. A decent amount of people will do such a job, but unsure if you could. Especially with the vampire leader himself. 

“I’ll give you the money. In return, you will provide for my hunger till I’ve decided the debt is paid.”

The offer conflicted you. Your father would benefit from the deal, even though Chan is asking for a lot. There were a bunch of questions flooding you at once. You lacked knowledge of how often he fed or what your body would go through trying to keep up with the demand. Deep down, you knew you would give anything for your father’s well-being. He fought this hard to survive and you would do the same for him. 

Despite the numbness coursing through you, your hand reached up from your lap to over the table towards Chan before you processed what you were doing. You needed to say yes now before you backed out. You could deal with the consequences later. All that mattered was gaining the funds. You forced yourself to look at Chan as he looked between your eyes and hand. He must know how nervous you were. Still, you kept your hand steady, wanting to show your dedication to the deal. 

His icy hand came over to grab yours to shake. “I’ll get the money to you by tonight. I’ll summon you when I need your work. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

Truthfully, you had no preparation for what was coming. It was too late now. Chan made good on his word. Roughly twelve hours later, he visited your home to hand you the gold. He wished your father luck with his health before leaving without another word. You appreciated the discretion from him. You kept the details of the meeting to yourself, not wanting the rest of your family to know. Regardless, the reassurance of the gold perked even your father up. Your uncle would leave with him in the morning to Rellbridge. A few days of travel for the higher chance of recovery. 

While growing up, your family often took trips to the river outside the city. The river was wide, running cold even in the middle of the heat wave summer brought. A small patch of land sat in the middle of the river. Grass covered the stretch of land with a large tree sitting in the middle. 

Your older brothers often swam across to the island. All three of them were adventurous, risk takers, or foolish, as your mother said. You never went deeper than waist high into the water. The river was deceiving. Eerie peacefulness on the top with a sweeping current able to surprise anyone if not prepared. 

The boys loved the challenge. 

However, teenage boys can be cruel, teasing you about how scared you were, teasing how everyone else can swim across the small stretch with ease. You always wanted to prove them wrong. 

You practiced, grew as a swimmer overall. Determined to show not only were you capable, but willing to conquer your fear. Once you were ready, you swallowed down the uneasiness and took the risk. The rush was exhilarating. You had done what you considered impossible. Even beating two of your brothers. 

Thinking back on such events only motivates you today. As childish as it is, fear can’t run your life. The task is normal for many, so it's not a big deal. Stock workers provide blood every day. So can you. 

As you did before, you take a deep breath now and walk up the estate steps. 

The estate Chan owns is busy at all hours of the day. A true epicenter of the town. You could find several of the clan members here at various times. Besides them, a human city council was here in one wing of the estate. The group oversaw the town during the day, dealing with a majority of human affairs. Civil issues that didn’t require Chan’s attention. Either way, people are coming or going. 

When you made it inside, one of Chan’s staff greeted you. Thankfully, Chan had informed the staff earlier about your arrival.

“I can escort them.” Says a voice coming from behind you. A quick glimpse back revealed one of the younger leaders you knew as Seungmin. “Follow me.”

“Thank you for the help.”

“It’s not a problem.” Seungmin shrugged indifferently. “This house is a maze.”

The walk is quiet. You stay on Seungmin’s heels, avoiding several groups of people moving throughout the home. How Chan finds any peace here is surprising. 

Rounding a corner, Seungmin almost collided with Felix. “Oh Seungmin! I was looking for you. I need your help.”

“Let me drop this human off and I’ll come with you.” Seungmin half turns to you. “What’s your business, anyway?”

“Uh, an arrangement. I am to offer my blood.”

“I see. A blood favor.” Seungmin nods, continuing to lead you down the familiar hallway to Chan’s office. “You should be ecstatic. People beg to be in your position. Be thankful for this intimate opportunity. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

You hesitated to respond. Felix seemed to pick up the uneasiness, giving a playful swat against Seungmin’s arm. “He is teasing you. Ignore him, we all do.”

“There is truth in my words.”

“Even if that may be, don’t scare the poor human.” Felix points to a nearby door. One you recognize from before. “It’s there. Go inside.”

After a quick word of thanks, you slipped past the heavy doors into the office. Chan is already at his desk this time, engrossed in a heap of papers. His hand scribbled with a pen over the stack. He doesn’t look up, only offering a word. “Yes?”

“I came as quickly as I could.” 

“Ah, forgive me,” says Chan, looking up for a moment. He stops writing, places the pen back in the holder, and collects the papers to tuck away in a desk drawer. “I must have lost track of time. Please, come closer.”

Anxiety twisted your stomach as you walked across the office. A quick wipe of your hands against your clothing couldn’t stop the nervous sweat from forming. 

In reality, you are safe. 

The safest place in the entire world, to be honest. Yet, the idea of an undead creature taking your life force for sustenance is jarring. Once again, you remind yourself how stock workers provide this service and have for years. They live full enjoyable lives; you tell yourself. You can do this. 

Perhaps Chan can read minds after all this time in existence. His first words on the matter are a question laced with concern. “Are you sure about this? Speak now if you have any hesitation.”

“Yes. I am here by free choice, and not by force. I swear.”

“If you are uncomfortable, please tell me. We’ll go back to the original arrangement. You can always pay the loan back. I’m sure friends of the family would help.”

“I don’t have the money.” You shake your head. Now is not the time to debate your decision, already having mustered up the strength to show up. Pushing the annoyance down, you plead with Chan. “Please, let’s just do this. I can close the debt sooner and it’s easier for all of us.”

“Alright. I don’t want you to feel this is your only choice.”

You stand your ground with your response. Chan doesn’t press the subject further. Instead pushes his chair backwards to create space between the desk and himself. He pats a knee, encouraging you to sit. Your eyes widen. He’s suggesting you sit on his lap? You may know each other well, but this is a wild request. 

Take a deep breath. The proximity is so he can feed. That’s all it is. There is nothing to worry about. 

With that in mind, you sit on his knees. 

Chan is breathtaking up close. He’s seen death, been through wars, lived hundreds of years, and yet no signs of aging. He remains as he was when turned. 

Your eyes meet his. They search yours, watching with curiosity, trying to read your face. The intimidation is still there even when he doesn’t mean it. You swear he can see through you. Straight down to your beating heart.

Can he see how it skips a beat? 

Unable to keep eye contact any longer, your gaze drops to his lips. Chan is undead, no blood runs through his system. Though even with paled skin, his lips still hold color. Still plush and inviting. It’s no secret that many find Chan handsome. Plenty of people in the city gossip about him, about his lips, and the cost they would pay for one kiss. Seungmin wasn’t wrong. You can name several friends who would envy such a moment up close. 

Chan’s voice stirs you from your thoughts. “Your heart is beating so fast.” 

Words remain trapped in his throat. What can you say? This was not what you expected. Most stock workers don’t elaborate on their work. Now Chan acts so casual with you on his lap. Even a hand on your thigh to keep you from slipping off. 

“What are you so afraid of?” He asks, voice low. “You’ve known me for years and I’ve never hurt you.”

All you can focus on is the hand on your thigh. His other hand sneaks around your frame to hold you to him. The contact causes goosebumps to form where he touches. He expects you to be calm? 

“It’s not you.” You attempt to keep your voice stable. “I’ve never been in such a position before.”

“With a vampire?”

“With anyone.”

“Well, that is something you don’t hear every day.” Your gaze immediately settles somewhere across the room. The playful tone in his voice causes you to regret the sudden confession. “Lucky for me to be your first.”

Mercifully, Chan doesn’t tease you more. Only asking for confirmation to continue one last time. Still, you don’t back down. You take another deep breath, ready to get this moment over with. 

The hand on your thigh moves, coming up to brush the hair away to expose your neck. You curse at yourself. You could have made his life easier by wearing it up or out of the way. Chan doesn’t appear bothered. “I’ll be as merciful as I can be. I’ll only take a moment. Try not to move too much.”

You tilt your head to the side, feeling his soft lips against your neck. A shaky sigh leaves you as his lips continue to ghost over the skin, searching, looking for a pulse. You didn’t expect the gentleness from Chan. Not from the creature who has single-handedly taken out a group of elite vampire hunters. 

The sharp pinch of his fangs sinking into the skin catches you off guard. You try your best to keep still as a board. I’ll only take a moment. The words echo in your head. A hand of yours grabs a fistful of his shirt to ground yourself. You fight every instinct to not to pull away from him. 

A small whimper slips past your lips, causing Chan’s grip to tighten around you, keeping you trapped against him. An occasional groan leaving him reverberates through his chest as he continues to feed. You let your eyes shut, waiting for him to finish. As time ticked on, you grew weaker. 

A ‘mere moment’ went on for an eternity.

At last Chan pulls away, hand reaching for a handkerchief out of his pocket to bring to the bite. Your hand replaced his, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. 

The gentle touch returned, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. “Try not to move. Give yourself a moment.”

“Your touch is comforting.” You mumble out. “I didn’t expect that.”

“I may be undead, but I don’t lack sympathy.”

You tried to focus on his words. The gears in your brain are stuck in mud, sluggish while trying to process. The patterned rug in front of you spun. Your eyes trail over to the clock in the room. The hands were blurry. No matter how much you blinked to clear your vision, the dizziness grew. Closing your eyes provided some relief. Chan’s advice seemed reasonable. You were in no rush to move. The thought of walking seemed risky. 

It couldn’t have been more than a second. You don’t remember passing out. Only realizing what occurred when coming to. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the surroundings. You were in a bedroom of some sort. Thick dark curtains are drawn shut. The room is dim, only illuminated by a lamp on the nightstand by you. The eiderdown quilt covering you was soft under your fingers. Chan spared no expense on his belongings. 

Chan. 

The bite. 

The sound of him feeding off of you came back. 

Your fingers trailed up to your neck. The area is tender to the touch. Two small marks remained where his fangs pierced the skin. The wounds have scabbed over. 

Did he place you here? 

You smiled to yourself. How kind of him. There was a couch in his office. He could have left you there. Instead, he placed you in a bed, tucked under the blankets to stay warm. 

Speaking of the vampire, he came through the door across from you. “She awakens.”

“How long was I out?”

“Only an hour.” Chan saunters over. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand extended beside you to the nightstand where a glass bottle sits. “I had them prepare this for you.”

“What is it?”

“Beetroot juice. It will help you. Or so Felix tells me. He’s got more knowledge than I do.”

You accept the bottle from Chan. The juice is a dark plum color. The taste itself is earthy but bitter. Even with the added hint of honey, it’s not pleasant to consume. You sip with no rush to finish the juice. 

“Awful, I know.” Chan picks up on the distaste. “Visit the clinic when you can. Felix can test your blood. We have medication for those who are anemic. I believe they’re called Blaud’s pills. They’re common among a couple of our stock workers.”

“I’m sorry for all this inconvenience.”

“Oh nonsense. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you. You did so good for me.”

The simple praise sends a wave of warmth through you. Good? For him? Your mind tries to run with his words. Heart fluttered at such a comment. You inwardly scold yourself for thinking his words mean anything more than generic friendliness. You try to squash your thoughts down.

“How often do you need me?”

“Not every day.” Chan let out a chuckle at your sigh of relief. “Every couple of days will suffice. We can make a schedule. To be fair to each of us.” Chan places a hand on your knee, thumb caressing you over the blanket. The smile he offers seems genuine. “Please rest as long as you need. It’s no trouble for me. Then go see Felix if you need to. He’s available.”

The feedings become easier. Chan required less blood thanks to the schedule you decided on. He revealed he was grateful for the blood favor. Without the agreement, Chan would have continued feeding inconsistently.

The excuse? 

He was too busy to feed. 

There were bigger issues, he said. Chan argued he could manage his hunger. No one was in danger. He knew his body, and his limits from years of experience. 

Truthfully, that wasn’t your concern. Your heart sank. The one working so hard to keep his city running sacrificed himself. The creature stretched himself thin. Not feeding causes a handful of issues. From overall weakness to slowed healing times. 

Chan was okay with these risks? 

He’ll at least feed consistently for the duration of the deal. That’s better than nothing. Stubbornness to help will keep you coming to the scheduled appointments. Especially now the fear is gone. 

Despite that, there is a new growing problem. The attraction you have is getting stronger. You tried to let the feelings go. He’s just being kind. The concern he shows for you is normal. You are a human while he’s a vampire. It’s nothing more than that. The lingering touches aren’t happening. A figment of your imagination. There is no possibility that he…

The thoughts melt away when Chan hoists you higher onto his lap. His lips are inches from yours. The full, swollen lips haunting your dreams for the last week. The same lips muttered the familiar line of praise of how good you are for him. 

That damn praise will be the death of you. 

If the proximity doesn’t take you out first. 

Your gaze often finds his lips. Today is no different. Watching them move when asking about your well-being. The second time he repeats himself is when you can speak. “I’m sorry. Being lightheaded is making me delirious.”

His lips curl up into a smile, voice lower, and taunting you. Almost as if he can see right through you. “And what makes you think that?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Self control flies out the window when Chan gives you permission. There is no hesitation as you close the distance, slotting your lips against his for a brief, timid kiss. You cling to any part of him your fingers can reach. He’s not close enough to you. Even with your whole body curling to press against his. You want another. A million more if possible. Every dream of his kiss doesn’t compare to the real thing. From the sound of things, the desire appears to be mutual. 

“Again.” Chan says in a hoarse whisper. “I want another taste of you.”

Chan’s fingers find your chin, pulling your face closer to him. He takes the lead this time around. You attempt to match his energy. Lips sloppily trying to follow. A warm sensation pools in your gut. In this moment, only the two of you exist in this time and space.  

Your chest tightens when you pull away to breathe. Reality sinks in like gravity, yanking you back down from the clouds you floated away to. You kissed the town’s leader. He allowed you, then asked for more.

“I shouldn’t…” you say, eyes wide in panic. “I…” 

“What’s wrong?” Concern flashes over the vampire’s face. “Whatever is the matter?”

Your mind races. What have you done? You were here to supply blood. What do you do now? The only plausible solution is to move to another city and never show your face again. Not only did you kiss this man, but it was your first kiss. You just kissed a 300-year-old vampire. Not some average man in the city. No, you saved it for a heat of the moment with Chan of all people without a second thought.

“Please tell me what’s causing this distress.” The vampire moves into your line of sight. His arms are the only reason you don’t melt into a puddle on the floor. The hold tightens when you attempt to squirm away. “Talk to me.” 

“I don’t know why I did that. I’ve never…” As your words trail off, Chan encourages you to continue. “No one has kissed me till today. A woman in her twenties and never been kissed. Oh, you must think I’m so pathetic.”

“No,” Chan coos, continuing to reassure you. “Of course not. You’re young. Still figuring life out. There is no rush for these experiences.”

This creature doesn’t understand what door he is opening. The sweet words that are only going to feed your delusion. This must be a dream. You can’t fathom a reality where this is happening to you. Now he sits in front of you with a grin on his face as if he is proud the series of events occurred.

“I am dreaming. I have to be.”

“But you’re not.” Chan leans in closer, lips almost touching your own once more. “Can I have another from you? I quite enjoyed myself.”

The creature knows his way with words. To be expected with his age. Such an extended time on earth he’s bound to learn a few lines. Your thoughts dip negatively. He must think you are clueless. Most of your knowledge comes from gossip among your friends and a few late night self indulgent moments. You never felt close enough to someone to try anything until now. 

The leap into the unfamiliar territory is magnetic with Chan. You have the free will to stop, but you don’t want to. No, you long to see where this moment goes. 

You kiss the vampire again. His lips distract your worries. You focus on the way his tongue slips past your lips to deepen the kiss, how one of his thumbs rubs comforting circles against the back of your hand, and you stop fighting the growing desire flourishing inside of you. 

“Do you want us to continue? Tell me what you want.” Chan asks. The serious tone is back when you nod. He’s not accepting the action as an answer. “Say it or I won’t.”

“I want you to kiss me again and I want you to touch me.”

“Good girl.” He praises. “You must understand consent and communication are very important. How will I know? Or if you want it? I can’t read minds.”

“I understand.”

“Good. You can deny anyone and everyone. The priority is you and what you want.” Chan’s hand tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Can I unbutton your blouse?”

Once Chan hears a vocal response, his fingers move with precision, undoing every single button. He peels back the flimsy material to reveal the thin undergarment. Icy fingers brush over your breast with a featherlight touch. Your breathing hitches with the gentle squeeze. He kneads the soft flesh, causing your nipples to harden from the teasing.  

“But what about the door?” You squeak out, realizing you answered before thinking of the consequences. Your head whips around to glance at the unlocked door. “We’re in your office.”

“Don’t worry. These are private quarters. No one enters without permission. Staff know not to let anyone in while you’re here. I wanted you to have privacy during the feedings.”

Privacy? Chan genuinely cared about your comfort. He thought about everything. 

“How is this?” He asks. “Good?”

“Yes.” You answer. Uneasy to ask for more. “But can you?”

“Can I do what, baby? Do you need my hands somewhere else? Show me where.”

“Here.” You reach for his hand, leading him down to your parted thighs and against your clothed pussy. “I need you here.”

A quick shift of your hips lets you grind against his hand. The wetness makes your clothing stick to your folds. It’s rough yet not a painful friction. One that sends a zing of pleasure up your spine. Yes, this is what you need. The contact provides some relief. 

“Do you want me to show you the pleasure you’ve never felt? It’s okay to want it. Don’t be ashamed.”

“Please.” Your words come out a whine. “I…I’ll go crazy. It’s not a terrible pain, but I ache.”

“I know.” Chan stands up, arms holding you to him. Your limbs tighten around him, clinging to avoid being dropped. You might as well be a feather in his hold. There’s no struggle as he crosses the room to a half opened bedroom door. “Let me take care of your hunger for taking care of mine.”

A soft kick to the door with his foot reveals the same room you woke up in the first time he fed. He places you down in the middle of the bed, hands helping remove the layers of clothes you have. You expected to be eager for the first time being intimate with someone. Yes, your stomach flips with anticipation, but Chan provides a safe space. One where you don’t feel vulnerable being naked. 

“Can you take this off?” You say tugging on his shirt.

“Whatever you wish.” Chan nods, not hesitating to shed the shirt, letting it fall off the side of the bed. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight. All the muscles hidden under his clothes are on display. Skin you desperately want to touch.  

The bed dips where Chan kneels on the bed. His callused hands are rough against your skin, running up and down your thighs. He lets you set the pace. When you are ready, you part your thighs. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to gauge his reaction. You were already wet when you crawled into his lap when you first arrived. Now you swear you are dripping down onto the bedding just from his hungry gaze. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbles. Chan starts at your knee. Lips placing soft kisses on your inner thighs moving higher. Your body buzzes with anticipation. The tingling sensation between your legs drives you mad. He knows you need relief, and he tortures you. He already proved how gentle he can be. Now you just want him to hurry and help. 

You couldn’t blink, afraid the beautiful sight in front of you would disappear. Or worse, another dream you would wake up from. Chan’s fingers ran over your slit experimentally. No set pattern. Just the soft, repeated action to let you get used to the sensation. Curiosity ate at you, wanting to know what it would feel like if his fingers slipped inside you. Maybe something else? Would Chan go that far if you allowed him? 

“Have you ever touched yourself like this?” Chan asks casually. His eyes are back on your face, waiting for the answer. “I ask only to know how slow I need to go.”

“Yes.” You moan, focusing on his fingers, finding your clit to circle. It’s distracting. Hard to focus on your words. “But I- Oh, it’s too embarrassing.”

“Tell me. I won’t laugh. Be honest with me.”

“I-I’ve grinded against a pillow.”

“Mmm, never thought I would be jealous of a pillow.” You groan, throwing an arm over your face to hide the embarrassment. Chan only chuckles in response. “I jest. I’m sorry.”

His fingers continue the methodical touch, earning him a few more soft moans from you. When you peek at him, he still has his eyes locked on you. “Would you like my finger? See how you like it?” Chan asks, well aware of your breath hitching at the suggestion. 

“Yes, please.” 

Cautiously, a finger dips inside of you. Experimental with the prodding, testing the waters of comfort. The sensation is indeed foreign, but not unpleasant. Not when knowing what pleasure is on the horizon. 

“You’re doing so good for me. Can I add another?” Chan rubs reassuring circles on the side of your hip with his other hand. You nod, relishing in this gentle side of him again. The side you never expected. Two weeks ago, you could panic talking to him and now you never could imagine cruelty from him. Especially when he speaks with praise. “You’re such a good girl. Look at you. Look how my fingers get sucked in.”

“Full. So full.”

“I have no doubts. Pretty hole of yours is greedy.”

A third finger slips in. Your hole stretches around the width, accepting more of him with ease. Even your body wants him with the same desire. All you can do is squirm in your spot. The familiar feeling of too much and not enough comes back. “Oh Chan! Please, that’s…”

“That’s what, baby girl? Tell me. Does it hurt?”

“No. I want more.”

“I already told you. Use your words.” He’s so calm, collected while you sit here falling apart on him. “Say it.”

“Can I have your cock?” The words are foreign to you. Words you never muttered to anyone. If someone else heard you, it would be embarrassing for you to say such things. At the moment, this is right, meant to be. “I wanna feel you.”

“Do you?” The amused grin is back on his face. A look of triumph. The creature wanted you to be a desperate mess in front of him. You realize the cocky bastard is teasing you. “Say please again.”

The word barely leaves your lips by the time Chan pulls away, eager to remove his remaining clothing. Seconds later he’s back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You are so exposed, but not a single ounce of fear. Not with Chan. 

His body is in your sight, trailing down the smooth expanse of his chest down to his hand where he strokes his cock absentmindedly. Your eyes widen in shock. “You won’t fit.”

“I assure you I can.” Chan chuckles while hovering over you. One hand rests by your head while the other lines the head of his cock against your wet pussy. He’s right there. The realization that Chan is the first to have you so intimately hits you. The soft, caring tone is back. “Breathe, just breathe for me. Remember, we’re in no rush.”

“Slowly, please.” “Of course. Tell me if it’s too much.” You only gasp when his cock slips into you. He stayed true to his word, taking his time as he inches deeper with shallow thrusts. The low guttural moan slips out of him. “Ah, so warm and tight.” 

Your desperate plea for a kiss is heard by the vampire, leaning down to capture your lips. As expected, everything he does is soft. This care, the touch, the push to allow you to enjoy the new experience at your own pace. Currently, you are the only other creature in this world besides him and he’s determined to show you the tenderness you deserve. 

“Let’s see if we can relax you.” Chan says while his fingers find your poor swollen clit again, still sensitive from earlier. 

“I feel,” Your hips squirm against the bed. “Oh I feel something.”

“Good.” Chan encourages. “Don’t fight it. Embrace it.”

As you always do, you trust Chan’s words, allowing your body to accept all his touches. An unfamiliar sensation hits you out of nowhere. Your wall clenches around his cock, core feeling a furious rush of pleasure spreading throughout our body. Its toe curling, powerful enough to drive your mind blank, replaced with a satisfying fuzziness. 

In a few seconds, the pleasure was gone as quickly as it arrived. The sound of his thrusts is louder now, with the wetness that formed. Chan can bury himself deep inside you now. Every inch of his cock inside your walls, moving back and forth, pulling almost all the way out to sink back to the hilt. The initial stretch subsides with your body getting used to his size. 

“There we go. Better?”

“Yes!” There is desperation in your voice when you speak. Arms wrapping around Chan’s neck to keep him close. “Please. I want it again. I want more.”

You can hear the smile on his face when he speaks. “You don’t even know what you are asking for.”

His kiss is hungry this time around, tongue slipping past your lips when you moan. Your own tongue is timid against his, unsure how to match his enthusiasm. Chan doesn’t appear bothered with your inexperience, rather enjoying every second. 

Chan pulls away, sitting back on his knees when you need air. His hands are on your hips once more, pulling you closer to him, eyes locked on your pussy. “You take my cock nicely. So gorgeous when I fuck you.”

No one has ever addressed you in such a brazen manner. Hell, you have never heard Chan speak this way to anyone. Yet something about how the vampire speaks with a face full of adoration makes you want to encourage him. Just as his words inspire thoughts you never thought you would say out loud.

“You’re so deep inside.” You gasp out, hand trailing down to your lower stomach. If you dared to look down, you swear you could see him. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Chan’s gaze darkens. Your words appear to have the same effect on him. He leans forward, muscular forearms keep you trapped underneath him. All you can do is cling to him as his pace quickens. There is a proud smile on his face as your nails dig into his flesh. 

His thrusts are relentless. Chan’s shaped like a man, but fucks like a beast with the way he doesn’t tire out, able to maintain the consistent pace, and forcing another orgasm out of you. Thoughts melt away other than the pleading for more. He may drive you insane with how effortlessly he can bring you pleasure in a matter of minutes. 

“I will ruin you in the best way possible.” Chan growls in your ear. “I swear, no one will ever compare. They will dream of the pleasure I can bring you.”

You believe him. 

Chan is running late today. You sat in his office, watching the time tick by at an agonizingly slow pace. The clock across the room revealed two hours had gone by. You heard from the staff that he was out of town on his way back this morning, yet the sun had risen. 

You stayed unsure what to do. Most of the time, the wait minimal. Chan is a busy man, but he tried to make sure to not keep you waiting. He knew you had the business to keep operating. Today, a Saturday, you could handle a late opening. 

When Chan came through the office door, you could see the front of his shirt torn with several large gashes. The once white fabric now stained a dark red, undoubtedly blood. The material soaked, caked in enough that it was still wet. You have never witnessed Chan hurt anyone. Not even a bug. However, it didn’t mean he wasn’t capable. 

The leader froze, hearing you gasp. His face mirroring your shocked look. “I forgot I summoned you. It’s not human if that is your concern. A vampire’s blood.”

“What happened?”

“There was a vampire terrorizing cities.” Chan fumed as he crossed the distance to the fireplace. He aggressively ripped the shredded shirt off his body. Without a second thought, he tossed the remains in the flames. “I was tracking her for a while now, in case she neared us. I assumed the hunters would kill her, but she was clever. Slipped out of their grasp a few times now. She was foolish enough to come close.”

Your heart sank seeing his body. He survived a mauling. Large lacerations covered his broad back.

Vampires heal at a sped up rate. 

Yet Chan wasn’t. 

Your arms wrapped around your knees. You were unsure how to help. A million questions ran through your head. Should you offer your blood? Would yours be enough? Was he even in the mood? 

Chan’s fist slammed against the wood banister, causing you to flinch. “She threatened everything I have created!”

Cautiously, you unfolded your limbs. Pushing off the couch, it took only a few strides to close the distance. You placed a hand on his shoulder. Chan’s tense body relaxed under your touch.

“Come.” You muttered. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chan turned, moving away. He headed straight for the connected bathroom. You followed, allowing the vampire to continue to vent. The annoyance radiated off, hotter than the sun. “We can coexist. We have for centuries, but there are a select few that will go to the ends of the earth to stop it. Human and vampire.”

Chan plugs the sink, running the hot water to fill the basin. The steam fogs up the mirror in front of you. You could barely make out how only your reflection showed up. He half turns to face you. “I hope you never have to run into either.”

“It’s a shame. You care for all of us without a second thought, and yet the church still thinks you’re an abomination.”

“They assume we keep you for livestock.”

“We’re not.” You huff. Anger courses through you. “We have freedom. No one holds us here.”

“I know. They say you need liberation.” Chan digs around the drawers near his sink. He pulls out a rag, which he aimlessly tosses into the water. His jaw is clenched tight. His fists rest on the counter. You worry he may break the counter out of rage. “The worst part about tonight? She wasn’t alone. She had a newborn. A young man, a boy. So young and lost.”

“What will happen to him?”

“He will stay. I will undo what she has taught him.” Chan let out a sigh, shutting off the water. “If you have other obligations, you may leave. I can find a stock worker.”

“No, I’ll stay.” You closed the distance between you two. Your hand reaches into the warm water, fingers brushing Chan’s fingers to take the rag from him. He turns to face you, leaning against the counter, watching you wring out the excess water before bringing it to his chest to wipe away the dried blood. 

“I can do it myself, you know?”

“I am aware. You always take care of us. Let me take care of you.” You peek up at Chan to see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, amused by your words. You asked for clarification on his gaze. “What is it?”

“Those innocent eyes of yours are trouble for me.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Yes you do or you wouldn’t have waited for me this morning.”

“I waited because I am in debt to you.” You explain, hand still working to clean the last few spots of blood off his skin. “I respect you enough to work around your needs.”

Chan’s hand found yours to stop you. Smile gone, replaced with concern. “If you are uncomfortable with what happened between us, you must tell me. I want your honesty.”

“Uncomfortable, yes, but not for the reasons you are assuming.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I lack experience.” You shrug. “I’m a fool in front of you.”

“Then I will teach whatever you desire to learn if you wish.”

Your eyes find the floor, attempting to hide how flustered the suggestion makes you. All you want is more of Chan. To feel his hands on you again. For him to recreate that pleasure. You tried at home with your own touch. It wasn’t enough to bring back that rush of bliss no matter what you tried. You gave up in defeat, too frustrated at the lack of release.

Now the simplest touch had your body reacting, tingling with desire. One glance from him had your thighs pressing tight. You craved him. Anything to have his mouth, his hands, and his cock. Nearly going delirious with your desire for him. You were nearing hysterics. One night with him and you were losing self control. Ready to offer your entire body to him. 

He will entertain the idea. How could you turn down such a tempting offer?

Chan takes the rag from you, letting it fall back into the water. “Tell me, did you touch yourself at the thought of me?”

“I tried, but it wasn’t the same as you.” You shake your head, frustrated with the blank expression on the vampire’s face. “That look…You think I’m a fool. Or worse, pathetic.”

“No, never. It would honor me to be the one to show you the world of pleasure.”

“We shouldn’t talk about this now. You need to feed. You need to heal. That should be our priority.”

“I’m fine. Right now, I want you. I need you.” Chan reached for your hand, guided down to his crotch. He holds it against the hardened bulge. You gasp, surprised to learn how you affect him. The hand over yours tightens the grip. “See what you do to me? 300 years on this earth and one touch from you drives me to insanity.”

“Chan, I-“

Both of Chan’s hands cup your face now. “Tell me it happens to you. That you need me as much as I need you.”

Chan needs you. The familiar wetness forms between your thighs. All it takes is his words. Because you need him too. He’s the only one that can make you feel this good. The both of you are two sides of the same coin. Two minds heading the same direction, craving to be connected. 

“Yes, I do. I give you all of me.”

The room is hot, your skin warm to the touch, yet his hands and lips are ice. Every moment of contact burns, not in pain, but a shock to your system. Chan turns you to face away from him, his chest flush against your back. The eagerness in him causes Chan’s fingers to fumble with pulling the hem of your dress up. You giggle, trying to help without getting in his way. His hand travels between your legs. You can’t move, trapped against his body. Two fingers slip inside with ease, scissoring in movement to prep you for him.

“Now what’s this?” He questions. Your attempt to pull away only encourages him. “I thought you wanted my touch. Why try to escape it now?”

“Please! Just…” Your words trailed off with a frustrated groan. His fingers aren’t enough. You want his cock, want the stretch, and the fullness again. 

“Patience, babe.” He mumbles behind you. A soft nibble on your ear lobe causes you to sink further into his hold. You can hear the smile in his voice. “I will take my time with you. My reward for surviving the night.”

His fingers never faltered. In and out, working you open. The orgasm is unexpected when it hits. Your hands ached, clinging to the counter, needing to ground yourself. As well to keep you from falling because of your weak shaking knees. The lingering buzz of the orgasm fizzles out. 

You gasped as Chan’s fingers pulled out, gently circling your sensitive clit. Your hips shift away to ease the overstimulation. It’s no use, his fingers follow, keeping the attention on your clit. “Chan please. Enough of this teasing.” You whine, pressing your ass against him. He groans at the friction against his clothed cock. “Let me have you. Haven’t I earned it?”

“You will ride me. So I can watch your beautiful body. We’ve earned that today.”

Your response never makes it out of your mouth. Not when Chan stops touching you to guide you to the bedroom. Both of you haphazardly throw clothes across the room. The thin dress you wear almost tears off your frame out of excitement. 

Chan falls back in the bed with a huff, positioning himself in the middle, head resting on the pillows. You join soon after, knees on either side of his hips while your fingers work the length of his cock. Chan is the desperate one now, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. Breathy gasps and low groans from your teasing. He’s a work of art sprawled underneath you and for you alone. 

“I want to feel you deep inside me.” You say while shifting your hips forward. “I can’t wait a moment longer.”

Your hand guides Chan’s cock to your wet folds. His head tilts back, enjoying the wet warmth sheathing around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you sank down onto Chan’s cock. Tiny, shaky breaths left you as stilled. The stretch is satisfying. You wanted to move, to savor the drag of his cock against your walls. Chan picked up on your eagerness as well, reminding you to be patient. Give your body time to adjust.

Slowly, you worked your hips up and down. Your hands rested on his chest for leverage. The familiar heat pulls into your gut. Even with this series of events happening so often, it’s delightful, as if for the first time. 

“There’s my good girl.” Chan grips your hips to help guide you up and down. “Nice and steady, baby. We don’t want you to tire out so soon, do we?”

“No,” you say between breaths, “I want to go as long as I can.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Something about the adoration on Chan’s face creates a warmth inside of you. He looks at you as if you are the only other being in this world. The sex you have together is something more. Perhaps your brain is teasing you with such an idea. There is no possibility of your town’s leader falling for you. The softness, the care for your wellbeing, and pet names he uses? It can’t be for nothing. 

Chan’s sudden words break you from your thoughts. “You’re thinking too much. Enjoy yourself.”

His eager fingers find your swollen clit, circling the bundle of nerves, causing you to clench around his cock. If you move, his fingers follow your movements, never breaking contact. He locked his eyes where you connect, watching his cock sink inside your wet hole. 

“Come on baby, don’t disappoint me. Give it to me.”

Your hips grind down, keeping Chan’s cock buried deep inside you. His fingers continue to tease your clit. The growing orgasm hits, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure rushes you, causing you to dig your nails into his chest. The last thing you see before closing your eyes is the satisfaction on Chan’s face. 

You pray he means it all. Hopefully, you are not just a play toy for the vampire, but something more. You want that reality. More than these sessions with him. Perhaps eventually you will have the courage to ask. Until then, you will enjoy every ounce of pleasure he brings to your body and you’ll soak up every praise that leaves his lips. 

Chan is in a better mood today. Rather, a playful one when he finishes feeding. Less blood loss means the weakness that follows isn’t dreadful. He still lets you rest on him. To check on your well-being, fingers sneak to your sides to tickle you. Your giggling fills the office. 

“Such a sweet moment ruined by you!”

“Ruined?” Chan playfully mocks. “Providing enjoyment is what you mean.”

“Oh, you are trouble.” 

“Trouble? You are the one causing trouble, and I am just a poor fool caught in your web.” Chan shifts you in his lap, helping you slot your knees on either side of his hips. His hands anchor around you to hold you in place. The amused expression changes, darkens to the familiar one of lust. “You danced in my mind during my meeting this morning when I should have been listening.”

“What did you imagine?”

“You, right here.” Chan says while hoisting you up in one fluid motion, forcing you on your back onto the desk. Contents on the desk fell off the edge. Official documents crumple under you. Chan is unbothered, eyes roaming over your body. “Spread out all pretty for me.”

Panic runs through you as your hand bumps an inkwell resting in the corner. The small container topples over. Blank ink runs off the edge onto the rug below. A noise of shock leaves you concerned about the rug below. 

“Leave it.” Chan mumbles into your neck. “It’s fine.”

His lips are everywhere at once, kissing your lips, down your jaw, over the fading bite marks, to the sensitive places that cause you to cling to him. Chan thrives with your squirming, nowhere to go when his body keeps you pinned against the desk. All you can do is helplessly arch into him, hips shifting under him, to entice him to move on from his teasing. His touch becomes overwhelming, yet not enough at the same time. 

“Chan, teach me.” You gasp out. “Teach me how to be good for you.”

“Is that what you want?” He mumbles across your skin. Lips placing kisses across a collarbone. “Teach you how to be perfect for me?”

“Yes.” You nod, hands wandering over his shirt down to the front of his trousers. “Tell me how to touch you, how to touch myself, the best position to present myself to you. I want to know it all.”

“How can I resist you?” Chan pulls away to bunch the fabric of your skirt against your stomach in a rush. A low groan slips past his lips. You are bare, no undergarments this time around. “You did this for me?” He asks, relishing in the small nod you offer in response. “How naughty.”

“Makes it easier for both of us.”

Chan watches as his fingers slip inside you with ease. The wet sounds of his fingers working in and out fills your ears. His voice lowers. “I’m sure the thought of me kept you soaked all day. So damn desperate for me.”

“Yes. Always think about you, too.” You gasp, head falling back. Your heart pounds in your chest. There is no shame in being so exposed in front of him, only desire now that you are comfortable fooling around with Chan. “I-I couldn’t even focus on work.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

A knock at the door caused you both to freeze. Not once during your sessions has there been an interruption. Chan doesn’t pull away. Two fingers curl inside of you, pressing against the familiar gummy spot. You bite your lip to muffle the moans threatening to come out. 

The knock occurs again. This time, a voice comes from the other side. “Sir, I apologize. You’re needed upstairs. It’s urgent.”

Chan huffs in annoyance. He struggles, contemplating what to do. To help the decision, you offer reassurance by saying you wait. You staffed the store well today. The employees won’t miss you. 

“I’ll be gone for only a moment.” Chan says, pulling away. He brings both of fingers in his mouth to suck the remnants of your taste. He gives one last remark before moving towards the door. “When I get back, I want you on your hands and knees naked on that bed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Chan halts with his hand on the door handle. Your giggle breaks the playful glare he gives you. He leaves, shaking his head. A warmth of pride fills your chest. You may be weak at his praise, but the vampire is weak at the use of titles. A fun way you learned to even the playing field. 

Hopefully, using the title earns a fun reward. 

There is someone else in Chan’s office when you come in tonight. A vampire. One you have never seen before. Chan motions you closer when sensing your hesitation. 

Elegance is the first word that comes to mind when you see the vampire up close. His posture is straight as a board while he sits. The suit on his thin, lanky frame is pristine, not a wrinkle anywhere. It’s sinful how beautiful this vampire is. Sharp features paired with big doe eyes that briefly glance over at you. His voice is soothing when he speaks to Chan. It’s not uncommon for outsiders to visit town. This is the first time you have seen another vampire that isn’t one of Chan’s creations. 

Chan grins when you come over to him. “This is Seonghwa. He is our neighbor. An elder of Hongjoong’s coven.”

“Hello,” you mumble shyly before turning to Chan. “I can come back later when you are free.”

“Nonsense. Stay with me. We won’t be long. He has another meeting with Jisung after this.” 

You want nothing more to sink into Chan’s embrace. Though the two of you are not open about the relationship you have. If it even is a relationship. That’s another reason you are here. To ask for clarification. If this is still just business to your leader or if it’s something more. 

The arm snaking around your waist to pull you into his lap reassures you. Chan wants you here, besides him. He’s willing to show you off in front of another coven leader. If you meant nothing, this public affection wouldn’t happen. 

Chan goes on with the conversation. “It’s true though. I killed her.”

“An ancient one? I’m impressed, Chan. Years of the church hunting her and you destroy her in one night.”

“I had too. Hongjoong would do the same. I told him I would take care of her. He needed to deal with that hunter infestation.” 

“An inconvenience.” A sigh left the other vampire. “But under control.” 

“Seonghwa, you understand that Hongjoong’s ways are not practiced here. Fewer eyes are on us. It’s why you see so many hunters.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes. “No, we have hunters because we are closer to the coast.” 

“Even more reason not to attract attention. He’s set in his ways, I know, but you must break some of his habits. Before it gets worse.”

“So you let your humans suffer?”

“We are careful. No, selective is a better word.” Chan leans forward to pick up a small glass container sitting in the middle of his desk. “If this works as well as you say, then even better for us.”

“Try it.” Seonghwa suggests. “Works on old and fresh wounds.” 

The smell of floral hits your nose when the jar is opened. Chan dips a finger into the dark salve, pulling out a small amount. You lean away from his approaching finger. There are a million concerns. The most prominent being the lack of knowledge of what ingredients are in the foreign substance. 

“It’s safe. A medicine to help the pain.” Chan’s voice is soft when he speaks. He waits to see if you continue to protest. You relax in his hold, tilting your head to the side to expose the freshest bite. 

The tension in your body melts the second the salve comes in contact with the bite. All the remaining pain dissipates. You can release the breath you were holding thanks to the relief. 

“See, always trust me.” Chan offers a reassuring smile. He allows you to take the jar to examine, already returning to his conversation with Seonghwa. “The compelling isn’t helping either. It can wear off.”

“Compulsion is not used often. An old practice. Not practical. Only used for interrogation.”

“All I ask of you is to be careful.” Chan heaves a sigh. “Onto other news, I heard Felix accepted the apprentice.”

“Yes.” Seonghwa smiles wide, fond of the person they discuss. “I think she can do a lot of good with proper training. My background lacks modern medicine. She’s eager to learn.”

You tune out the conversation. The topics are of no real importance to you. Nor is it any of your business. Truth be told, Chan was distracting you. The hand wrapped around you wanders under the hem of your blouse so the pads of his fingertips found a sliver of bare skin on your side. The soft, mindless caressing was feather light. Every brush sent a tingle through you. Such a harmless action. Though one that ignites something inside you. 

Eventually, Seonghwa stands from his seat, pulling on his jacket. “Thank you Chan. Now excuse me, Jisung is waiting. I don’t think I’ll be much help, but I will tell him what I know. I will take your advice and talk to Hongjoong as well.”

“If anyone can convince him, it’s you. He listens to you.”

“He does on occasion. The benefit of being his partner.” Seonghwa’s gaze turns to you. He points at the jar. “Please use the salve when the pain starts. It will help.”

Without another word, Seonghwa leaves. The office door shuts as the two of you remain in silence for a few minutes. Chan’s touch doesn’t stop. The question you wanted to ask is on the tip of your tongue. All you have to do is say it. Then you will finally have your answer. You can stop stressing over it. 

“What is troubling you? Hm?” Chan questions with concern. His other hand finds your chin to turn your face towards his. “I figured you were nervous because of Seonghwa, but your heart still beats so fast.”

You search Chan’s eyes. How could you ever have feared this man? Surreal how the short time has changed your entire outlook on him. Now, his charm has entrapped you. Stuck in love, desperate to know if it’s mutual. Perhaps he can shatter your delusion lightly. He’s been consistent with his kindness with you. 

You swallow the lump in your throat before mustering the courage to speak. “I can not fall in love with you.”

“Why not? Am I not worthy of your love?”

“No, the opposite.”

“You should never say such things.”

“You can have anyone. Why a woman with a silly crush?”

“Because she cares for me.” Chan’s hand brushed the hair away from your face. “She sees me at my lows and still wants to ease the burden. One of the few that makes me realize I’m cared for.”

It’s an honest answer. Straight from the source. An answer you didn’t expect. You spent so much time doubting the possibility his feelings were genuine, you never expected this as a reality. Butterflies swarm in your stomach. Any words you have for a response twist your tongue, keeping you silent. 

“If you wish to end this, I won’t stop you. The choice is always yours to make. I ask, for me, to consider waiting a little longer. A chance to let us flourish.”

“No!” you cry out, stomach lurching in panic. The outcry causes Chan to chuckle. Your words come out in a rush. “I want to continue. It scared me to bring it up.”

“Such a silly human.” He places a kiss on your forehead, following his words. Another on the tip of your nose. A final one on your lips. “Stop being afraid to tell me how you feel. I thought we were over this.”

Chan shushes your protest with another kiss, distracting you from your thoughts. There is no fight for dominance when the kiss deepens. Only a soft push and pull from not being close enough. He leaves you breathless every time. 

Chan is the one to pull away, knowing you won’t. The corners of his mouth curl up. He relishes in satisfaction knowing he’s the cause for the longing consuming every fiber in your being. 

“I hear your father is making a wonderful recovery.”

“He is, thanks to you.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “He’s excited to come home, to go back to work. The happiest he’s been in years. We wish to pay you back.”

“It’s unnecessary. You already paid the debt.” Chan shakes his head. “Your family owes me nothing.”

“But you don’t run a charity, your words.”

“A leader is only as strong as his people. I have to put their care first.” The corners of his lips turn down towards the floor. Remorse heavy in his voice. “I often say things in the heat of stress and regret it afterwards. Something I’ve always struggled with.”

“But you still helped.” You respond, not missing a beat. A hand of yours ghosts over his chest. “You have a good heart. Yours may not beat, but that doesn’t mean you lack one.”

Chan nods, staying silent. Your brows knit together in confusion. Something else appears to be on his mind. It’s unusual to see him struggling to find words. You encourage him to speak. 

“Changbin’s birthday is coming up. The town is celebrating.” Chan clears his throat, now speaking with more confidence. You can’t help but smile at the nervousness he has over a simple question. Over 300 years on this earth and he can still get flustered. “I want you by my side. Would you be interested in being in my company for the party?”

“I’d feel honored to go with you, but I’ll need to find something to wear.”

“I won’t protest you being naked.” Chan mumbles while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His soft lips brush over the familiar sensitive spot. He nearly distracts you from his words. You smack his arm lightly, earning you a nip in the skin of your neck in retaliation. Chan pulls back with a smile. “You are too easy to tease. I’ll contact a seamstress. I’ll have them make you something for the event. How’s that?”

“Better. Do I have to earn it?”

“I can think of an arrangement.”

Your eyes roll in response. Chan’s playful mood is a welcome addition. You hope it stays a while. He deserves happiness. He deserves these moments of peace after the chaos being a leader brings. Your heart swells with love, knowing you can provide this space for him. He can tune the rest of the world out and collect himself. You want nothing more for him and you plan to continue showering him with affection. For as long as you can.

Series Masterlist

©︎Abiaswreck | Do not copy, repost, or translate | As always, reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to comment, reblog with feedback, or send me an ask. I’d love to hear from you!

---

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙞. 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨

↳ A famous rapper trio looking to open their relationship. A charismatic dancer looking to open your mind. A myriad of possibilities, none of them tame. In at least one thing, Chan was right. This can't end PG.

↳ 3racha x Lee Know x female reader

↳ All drabble chapters <;1k

↳ 3racha au, fwb, free use, fujoshi reader, polyamory and enm, angst, smut, mxm, fxm, perceived mental illness, dead dove do not eat

! Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」  「© September 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

a/n: welcome to what happens when a commission gets out of hand. and that's probably putting this mess politely. i tried something new w this series, partly to attempt to address what seems to be a diminishing tolerance for longer chapters, but mostly to improve my style. this is shorter, but snappier. the challenges i faced w this story were some of the most difficult, the topics within some of the rawest. i like to think i got there in the end. (ty thea for putting up w my constant despairing). please heed the warnings and as much as you're able to: enjoy. dedicated to dear sanne, who initially commissioned a drabble. have eighty-five x

“Minho!”

Even with as much gumption as you put into the calling of your roommate’s name, the gush of water does more to drown out your voice; acquiescing to its power, you shut off the shower and try your luck a second time.

“Min, you there!?”

The trudge of heavy footsteps outside accompanies a gruff, “What is it?”

“Towel rescue, please!”

“Again?”

You swipe ticklish runnels of hot water from your forehead. “It’s not my fault a certain someone never thinks to replace them!”

“You can’t check before you get in the shower?” Minho gripes.

“I forget!”

Indecipherable grumbling carries off down the corridor. After a few moments, the bathroom door cracks open.

“I’m coming in.”

“Alright. Just don’t, like, look, or anything.” You tuck behind the glass shower door. Like it’s not made entirely of glass.

Minho steps inside, left hand shielding his eyes as his right offers out a clean towel. He can’t be long out of bed himself; shirtless with ash-blonde hair mussed and unkempt, loose shorts slung low around his shapely hips. Condensation mists the air and settles on his skin, his honey complexion glistening. A deep and heavy warmth throbs wantonly; as it has done every day since you met.

“Fuck me, it’s hot in here,” he puffs. “The shower has a temperature below scalding, you know.”

Well versed in concealing your infatuation, you roll your eyes. “Says the guy that only ever showers in ice water.”

“Cold showers are better for you. Healthier. It’s, like, proven.”

“So is spinach, but you refuse to touch that.”

Minho grimaces. “That’s different. Are you going to take this towel or what?”

“Yeah, I’m just— Can you come a little closer? I don’t want to get out.”

He shuffles forwards, socks sliding over the damp linoleum. “You forgot your slippers too?”

“Maybe.”

You crane around the glass, reaching for the towel. “I can’t— Minho, closer.”

He shuffles a bit more. You crane a bit more.

“Minho, just give me the damn towel!”

And his hand drops, thunder in his expression. He marches across the bathroom, not remotely nonplussed by your nakedness.

“Here,” he glowers, shoves the towel at you.

You snatch it breathlessly. “I told you not to look!”

“I told you to stop forgetting a damn towel.” He grins, abruptly about-faces to leave the room.

“Heathen.”

He stops at the door; you think your insult responsible until he says, “You do know I have seen you naked before?”

Breathless.

“W— What?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“But— When? How?”

“Just, you know. Around. We live together, it was bound to happen.”

“Right...”

Minho scoffs, turns to leave, the broad expanse of his naked back rippling with movement. The crippling urge to run your nails down it leaves scratches on your soul. Red and sore. Pretty.

“If the mood ever strikes, I’ll make us even and show you mine,” he says, closing the door with a wink.

His on-brand maniacal cackle carries away, implications left to hover.

You spend another ten minutes in the shower, shame descending with every helpless whimper your bitten lips fail to contain. Does he know how he ruins you? How you’re forced to purge him from your system by your own hand? Two fingers full and yet not even close to stretched? And this time the urge was brought on by nothing more than a thoughtless joke.

Pathetic.

Minho lives under your skin.

You’ll never carve him out.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

---

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙫. 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙨

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Sept 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

After a shower and light breakfast of hangover soup, Minho is rather more chipper than his waking state suggested he had any right being.

He’s curled up in the single armchair, laptop balanced on his knees, earbuds in. From teen emo fantasy to domestic dream, he’s all fluffy ash-blonde and clear skin, freshly washed loungewear and warmth. Make-believe boyfriend. He’s also content to let you dominate the television, taking an earphone out when the drama peaks; it’s never in short supply where Christine is concerned. You rather like that Crishelle doesn’t take her shit lying down. The jury’s still out on Mary.

Much of the morning passes in comfortable silence, his humming and occasional dance ticks catching your attention when the lives of the disgustingly rich and famous fail to.

“Oh,” he suddenly emotes, blinking at his phone.

“What?”

“Jisung texted me.”

You drop the duvet thread you were fiddling with. “What?”

“Han Jisung. Texted me?”

Struggling with the weight of the duvet, you manage to sit upright, stoked enough to mostly ignore the way your head smarts in protest of the movement.

“3racha?”

He nods.

“What did he say?”

He squints at his phone, purses his lips. “He’s, uh...” He cocks his head. “He invited me to a show tonight.”

“A show?”

“Their show.” His phone buzzes again. “They’re playing Sinner’s.”

Huh. It’s not quite jealousy. You don’t think, anyway.

“That’s awesome. Look at you going up in the world. Remind me to ask for your autograph.”

He flicks a gaze to you, dark and unimpressed. Your tummy throbs.

“What?”

“You’re coming with me.”

You wave a dismissive hand. “I wasn’t invited. Besides, I’m not feeling well. I’m better off staying—”

Before you can finish, he tosses his phone to the pillowy mass of duvet. “Read.”

The screen displays Jisung’s thread of texts.

>> yooo it’s jisungie. last night was lit. not feeling so hot today though lol

>> we’re doing sinners tonight. u and hot roomie should come

>> be awesome to see u again

“Oh.”

Minho hums.

“Hot roomie?” you ask.

“That would be you.”

“Naturally. And they think I’m hot because...?”

He catches his phone when you toss it back to him. “Because I told them so.”

Something in your frontal lobe implodes.

“Oh.”

“I have seen you naked.”

Right. That happened. Apparently? Fuck.

On your stunted silence, he puffs a breath. “I thought you hyped them,” he says.

“Bitch, please. You know I do.”

He laughs, a smirk lingering on his mouth. He rises from his chair and moves to you, veined, strong hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Warm. If only they weren’t so wide of your throat, you could be wearing them as a necklace.

He stares at you. The world is white noise and pixels.

“You know they’re fucking, right?”

“I— What? The fuck?”

“You didn’t?” He blinks, all feigned innocence. “They told me. Kind of had my suspicions anyway; they triggered my queer-dar to no end.”

“3racha...” You fall to silence, the mental images conjured so disgustingly salacious even the little black box struggles to contain them, because it’s the stuff of delirium made tangible and that simply isn’t—it can’t be—safe for consumption. There’s not enough room in the little black box. Nowhere near enough with what already lives there to comprehend the three of them. 3racha. Them. So beautiful and untouchable and all over each other in the aftermath of a concert or in the back of their tinted transit or in the steamed-up studio or—

Hysteria bubbles at the back of your throat; Minho giggles, thumbs a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Sorry. Probably shouldn’t have dropped that on you,” he says. “Some confidant I am.”

“N— No, it’s…”

Fine? Because it’s not fine. You’re so far from fine you’re no longer sure how to spell the word. Minho searches you, the weight of something unreadable behind his eyes. He wets his bottom lip, swallows and steps back.

Everything screams.

“So, you’re coming, yes?”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

---