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BangChan NSFW Alphabet

genre : suggestive smut word count : 1212 warning : suggestive and some smutty content A/N : if you enjoy my work, please like and reblog so it can reach more people, and if you want me to do another member please feel free to send me a request!

Aftercare : 

Chan isn a very sweet person, he's always looking after other people, there's no exception when it comes to the person he loves.  After you finish the deed, he would do or get you anything you need.  Run a bath for the two of you to relaxe and clean up, get you both some snacks to eat while you watch a movie and cuddle, and eventually fall asleep together.

Body : (his favourite part of his and your body)

He loves his abs, he works on the all the time and is very proud to show them off to his partner and feel them touch them.  On you he loves your hair, p;laying with it and holding it up, back and to the side.  He loves brushing his hand through your hair as well.

Cum : 

Unless he's wearing a condom he will pull out when he finishes, cumming on your stomach, he'll promptly wipe it up though since he doesnt want you to feel dirty from it if that makes sense.

Dirty Secret : 

For the most part Chan likes very loving, vanilla sex.  But he secretly wants to have a rough session every once in a while, maybe use some bondage and try out some bdsm things, but nothing to the extent of causing you pain.

Experience : 

I feel like Chan doesn't have a lot of experience when it comes to these things, so he's always learning new things every time you guys do it.

Favourite Position:

Chan's favourite position is doggy style.  He can go as fast as he can and it feels the best for him, and his partner.  He also enjoys seeing their ass clap against his thighs, the site itself makes him want to cum.

Goofy :

Chan likes to have fun during sexy times, he likes to make you feel comfortable and cared for and if one of you makes a weird sound he'll ease your embarrassment with laughter.  Although, during certain times he does like to be serious and focuses on showing you all his love.

Hair : 

Chan doesn't mind hair at all, he prefers to keep himself clean cut but not completely hairless.  

Intimacy :

He gets very passionate when it comes to sex.  He gets into the zone and does his hardest to make his partner feel not only pleasure, but loved as well.  He doesn't goof around when he's in the moment having sex, but afterwards he'll giggle and pull them in tightly for cuddles.

Jerks off :

Chan only really jerks off when he's super stressed.  Once or twice a week, but he doesn't go crazy.  He's very busy so there's not much time to do it anyways, but if he's working late in his studio and the thought of his partner comes to mind he would pause to relieve some of his stress.

Kinks :

HUGE dominance kink, size kink, choking kink and control kink.  He's soft natured, but once he's in the bedroom he becomes a beast.  He likes to experiment with new kinks and to see what pleases his partner and himself.  He loves being in control though and seeing his partner submit to him.

Location :

He prefers the privacy of a bedroom versus public sex.  He likes to spend his time with his partner, taking their time to slowly reach an orgasm together and really enjoy their intimate time.  The only other place would be his office if the door was locked and he was really horny and desperate.

Motivation :

Music.  Chan loves music, it's his profession.  If he hears a sensual song or his partner singing beautifully he could get turned on in a second.  Music playing in the background is an essential during sex for him, he uses it to help control his pace and to create a more sensual environment.

No :

His biggest turn off is pain.  He has a choking kink but he would never actually hurt his partner.  If they asked him to spank them, hit them, bite them or anything that would cause them pain he would stop immediately and step away.  He could never cause harm or pain to his partner.

Oral :

Chans not too big on oral, he would give his partner oral if they asked, but he's not big on it.  He prefers hands, using them to give his partner pleasure and to be pleasured.

Pace :

Like I said before, he likes to listen to music and match his pace with the music.  He prefers a slower harder pace though, reaching as far as he can and feeling every inch of his partner.

Quickie :

He doesn't like them.  He prefers long intimate sessions, quick sex just to get off isn't too appealing to him.  If his partner really wanted a quickie he would do it though, he just doesn't like them that much.

Risk :

The only risks he's into are trying out new kinks.  He'd never risk being walked in on or seen in public, he likes to keep those things private, so he's not a very risky person.

Stamina :

Chan has great stamina, he could go for hours if his partner wanted to, whatever it takes to get them to orgasm.  He enjoys sex and wants it to last for a long time.  He however doesn't have enough stamina for multiple sessions.  One long session is good for him.

Toys :

He has a vibrator or two for his partner, anything to help them reach a climax.  They also are great for foreplay to get his partner riled up, as a dominant he will use anything to make his partner cum, wether that be vibrators or penetration.

Unfair (teasing) :

He likes to tease as a way of foreplay.  Slow make out sessions, a little touching and then retreating to tease his partner, getting them excited for sex.  Once he gets to the actual sex he stops teasing and goes into a serious mode.

Volume :

Chan likes top keep his own volume to a minimum, he likes hearing his partner moan and whine during sex and he gets off to the sounds they make while being intimate.  

Wild card :

Hair pulling.  It's not something he would normally be interested in, but one time when his partner and him were going at it they pulled his hair and he groaned and finished in that very moment.  It's a secret that he tries to keep, and his partner likes to tease him with it, while they're out they'll pull his hair slightly to turn him on, and he can't do anything about it.

X-ray :

"Y' know what else is big?"  Famous words of Christopher Bang Chan.  He's probably average size when fully hard, around 6.5 inches, but with girth.  He has good girth.

Yearning (sex drive) :

His sex drive isn't too high, he doesn't feel the need to have it every day, but it does increase when he's stressed out.  He's not too horny, but he'd like to have sex at least once a week, he like's to make his partner feel loved in that way.

Zzz (sleep) :

He waits for his partner to fall asleep first before falling asleep himself.  He'll stroke their hair and kiss their cheek and head and humm them songs till they pass out, then he'll fall asleep.

[6:02am]

Pairing: Chan x reader Word Count: 0.4k Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, swearing, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving)

a/n: I'm not even a little bit sorry about this.

"You're so needy today babe" you cooed running your fingers through Chan's messy curls, he had been this way even since he got home from the last part of the tour and to be honest you loved it.

"M'not" he whined as he rutted against your pajama clad hip, his lips attached to your bare shoulder.

"You're going to be late Channie" you teased your fingers creeping across his abs to flick the waistband of his boxers making him pull himself away from you.

"Want you though, I can be quick" he groaned your hand finally ghosting over his throbbing cock.

"You are never quick but I can be" you but you lip sensually while you squeezed him through the fabric causing him to shiver against you. Pushing him onto his back you slid down and positioned yourself between his thighs placing kisses on his abs, hips and thighs as you rid him of the only scrap of fabric between him and you.

"Fuuuuck" he moaned eyes rolling back as you pumped his length lazily smirking at his reaction.

"Such a good boy" you praised taking him into your mouth letting your tongue swirl around the head before taking him all the way into your throat.

"Yes baby, I can be good" he slurred his hands tangling into your hair as you bobbed up and down his length, sucking and humming as you did. His fingers gripped your hair a little tighter pulling the roots a little and you purred softly, hearing him take a gasping breath from where he was sprawled on the bed. You knew from how long he had been rutting against you since you woke up he wouldn't last long so when he started rolling his hips to fuck your throat you couldn't help the low moan that left you.

"Shit, shit, shit" Chan moaned as you felt his swell against your tongue before he came thick hot ribbon of his seed down your throat.

"Told you I could be quick" you smirked letting go of his length with a pop.

"Love you. I will spoil you later for this baby" he panted looking at you with adoring eyes as you moved back to lay beside him on the bed.

"Love you too babe" you smiled kissing his lips softly. a/n: Your likes, comments and reblogs are adored just as you are adored xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow

[06:30 am] the soft rays of the sun gently hit your face, causing you to stir as you wake up from your sleep. You smile to yourself as soon as you feel a familiar pair of arms hug your waist tighter, pulling you in until your flush against his chest.

"Good morning," you hear Chan say, his voice still laced with slumber. You chuckle, turning around to face him. "Good morning," you greet with a smile, your hand moving to cup his face, thumbing at his still-closed eyelids. Chan smiles at that, leaning further into your touch as his eyes flutter open. "Merry Christmas, my love." Chan says as he moves to place a kiss on your nose. You giggle, moving to place a kiss on his nose as well. "Merry Christmas." You greet back, threading your fingers over his hair.

Chan hums at the feeling, a satisfied grin drawn on his lips. "I have a present for you," he says, voice gentle as ever. "It's waiting for you downstairs, under the tree." He continues, his fingers smoothing through the skin of your back. You sigh at the feeling, scooting closer to your lover. "Yours is downstairs too, I hope you like it." Chan softly laughs before he gives you a mischievous grin before asking, "what do you mean? My present is right here, waiting to get unwrapped." He says as he trails his warm hand under your sleep shirt. You scoff at his cheeky remark, slapping his arm playfully.

"Chan Christopher Bang, what you do think your doing?" You say with a chuckle as he hovers on top of you. "Checking out my present, of course." He says, his fingers playing with the elastic of your shorts. "Can't you wait till later?" You say, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. You hum in satisfaction once you feel his lips against yours, molding into a slow and passionate kiss.

"I don't think I can wait any longer," he says against your lips, his voice merely a whisper. You almost shiver when you feel his fingers trace the skin under your shirt, his hand dangerously close to your breasts. You feel his smile against the skin of your neck before placing feather-like kisses, the sensation sending tingles down your spine.

"I just can't wait to see what's inside."

「𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗」 · course iii

❝𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎.❞

WC: 10k (42 min. avg. reading time)

⛔ — Not suitable for readers who might get triggered by rough play and/or themes of sexual deviance. The author chooses not to issue tags for every act to preserve tension and some element of surprise. By clicking "Keep Reading", you accept to proceed at your own risk.

⚠ — Open discussions of sexual deviance, extreme possessiveness as a kink (in play context; not as a personality trait), heavy breeding kink, rimming, verbal mentions of somnophilia and anal play (see masterlist for more).

★ There is no taglist. Please turn on notifications if you wish to be updated.

※ This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

That evening wasn’t the first time Chris caught himself randomly thinking about you.

Getting on someone’s nerves, teasing them to no end just to watch their reactions shouldn’t have been this much fun, but it just was. You were just so interesting. Since day one. You became even more interesting when he started raiding your dreams. He had a magnifying glass to look right into your deepest desires now, study them for not-so-pure motives, and they had become his favorite movies to watch. You seemed to find him just as fascinating. He seemed to turn you on just as much, to the extent that you would concoct private shows for him under the transparent veil of obliviousness. You could have just asked him to come watch you, but he understood where you were coming from. Sometimes it felt much better when it felt wrong, didn’t it? The things that weren’t meant to be confessed out loud were always much more delicious. Like any forbidden fruit was.

“Is this bagel to your liking?”

He turned to his right in the backseat of the lavish Bentley that was supposed to take you out of town to The Culinary Institute and watched you settle in. You were unknowingly twinning with Chris with your matching black blazer and jeans attire, but while he was clad in his silver chains around his neck and wrist, you had golden details to contrast him like the buttons of your jacket and the delicate knuckle rings you had on.

“Perfectly golden Asiago,” he observed after checking you out from head to toe, “How’d you know it’s my favorite?”

“It is?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind demolishing one all of a sudden,” he nonchalantly commented and reached for the perfectly cooled bottle sitting in the bucket in front of him, “Champagne?”

“Stop being nice, Chef, it’s weird,” you contorted your face while pushing your weekender bag under the seat in front of you.

“Don’t be formal with me,” he handed you a sweating flute and proceeded to pour a handsome amount of the bubbly drink for himself, “This is not dinner service. We’re just going to have a good time.”

You were so used to Chris’ threatening tone whenever he was not yelling that the change in his demeanor felt like whiplash, not to mention the subtly flirtatious undertones of his request. You hadn’t even taken one sip from the champagne yet something warm was already spreading all over your face and… well… your other parts.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Of course,” he shrugged, not getting why you were this surprised, “I’m your commanding officer only at work. We’re just two colleagues outside.”

You couldn’t help your smile. The validation meant everything to you as a professional.

As an individual, however…

“No takebacks, Christopher,” you slurped on your glass obnoxiously. He smirked in return and got back to the notes he had in his hands.

“Got any toys on you today?” he asked without looking at you, his voice so aloof one would think he was asking you about the weather. You avoided choking on your drink at the last second.

“Sure, I brought you a stroker,”  you deadpanned, “You want it now or later?”

“Don’t make me pat you down,” he faced you again, firm like a teacher asking the resident troublemaker of the class to behave on a school trip, “I can’t have you cumming on the podium. This is a serious event.”

“No, I don’t have any toys on me and I won’t be cumming on the podium. You have my word. Happy?”

“We’ll see about that,” he stared you down, barely able to stop himself from smiling.

After a ninety-minute drive, you arrived at your destination. The second Chris stepped foot into the building, he was of course welcomed like the celebrity he was. You felt privileged to be affiliated with him as it was, let alone being invited to an event like this, and while his success had nothing to do with you, you were still beaming with pride watching him get showered with love and respect.

“Chef Bang, what an honor!” the moderator of the event exclaimed with a shriek-like greeting.

“The honor is mine,” Chris firmly shook the woman’s hand with a charming smile and introduced you, “This is the associate I’ve told you about. You might as well change the name of the Q&A to Chef Corneille Dish Session.”

After shaking your hand, she laughed a bit too loudly while touching his arm and led the way inside the auditorium.

“Yes offense, it wasn’t that funny,” you muttered in a voice only Chris can hear, “She wants you to fuck her. Hard.”

“The only way I know how,” he responded with his warm smile reserved for strangers as if you were talking about some benign topic, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Maybe it’s my only business, fucking tease,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let’s go inside.”

All in all, the event was a success. Chris was nothing but endlessly charismatic throughout, making perfect use of his quick wit while engaging in banter with the audience, so it was understandable why the entire room had the fattest crush on him. To you, however, it was a little weird to see him like this. These wholesome shenanigans were most definitely a front, not that his true colors were completely offputting, but you couldn’t comprehend why he felt like he couldn’t show more of his actual self to people. It wasn’t like he was completely hiding it—half the reason Wolfgang had a full house day after day was to watch the open kitchen action and his relentless temper tantrums. Was he just portraying himself as a showbiz maniac who was otherwise utterly pleasant?

Or was there something else entirely that ran deeper?

“This was lovely, Chef. We would love to invite you for dinner tonight,” the woman whose name you learned to be Lily alluringly smiled at him, which made you question whether this was a group dinner invitation or if she was legitimately asking him out on a date.

“I appreciate it very much, but as you can imagine, we’re a little travel-worn,” he politely declined, “Raincheck for the next time we’re in town, though!”

Chris basically rushed you out of that room towards the car before anybody had any chance to insist and instructed the driver to go back to the hotel.

“Why’d you say no?”

“I’m not gonna waste my time with what they consider good food when we’re staying at a fucking Conrad,” he explained straightforwardly, “You didn’t think I picked that hotel because the rooms are comfortable, did you?”

“You could have totally gotten laid tonight. Just saying.”

“The night is still young,” he spread his legs as wide as he could to make himself comfortable and turned to you, “Who’s to say I won’t?”

You tried your best to be subtle while staring at his crotch, but whether you were successful or not was a bit questionable.

Chris had asked for a table in the semi-private penthouse dining room in order to peacefully eat away from the prying eyes since he was in no mood to be cordial with the masses. You were in the middle of admiring the tastefully decorated spacious dining room as well as the fantastic view it offered right in front of the table when the head chef of the hotel walked in to greet Chris personally. 

“Chef Marshall Martin,” the good-looking man roughly around the same age as Chris politely kissed your hand and introduced himself, “Huge pleasure to have you here. Chris and I go way back.”

“Please, the pleasure is all mine,” you reciprocated his warm smile as he guided you to your seats.

“Didn’t know you were capable of taking someone on a date,” Marshall teased Chris and gestured to a waiter to attend to you, “Feel free to go off the menu. What can I get you?”

You stole a glance from Chris, waiting for him to correct the misinformation that this was a date, but he didn’t bother. He knowingly smiled instead as his eyes scanned all the dining options available and then he put down the leather-bound menu that was the size of a yearbook for a small school.

“Do you mind if I order for both of us?”

“Not at all.”

“Oysters with macerated lemon as appetizers. As for the entrée, roasted meat with wine reduction and spiced honey sauce with maca salad on the side. We’ll see about the rest.”

He had uttered all his orders in a single breath as if he were reciting a poem he had memorized. You, on the other hand, were questioning whether his choices were at all deliberate or not. Oysters, capsaicin, honey, maca… You weren’t dumb. You knew what these foods allegedly were. 

Fucking aphrodisiacs.

“He’s really into you, huh? I hope you have protection on you, miss,” the chef shot you a mischievous smile, then addressed Chris directly, “Right away, friend.”

You took the liberty of choosing the wine to pair with your food and waited until your conversation with the sommelier was over to say something, needlessly going over the recommendations over and over again just to have Chris seethe in his chair.

“Really into me,” you echoed the chef’s words back to Chris with a straight face when you were finally alone, “Yet he hasn’t even asked me if I have a boyfriend or not.”

His face instantly fell at your insinuation. No, he hadn’t asked that, but… Wasn’t it a given that you were single considering—?

“Y-you do?”

You dragged on the suspense examining every single detail on his face. How his eyes very slightly widened, how he gulped, how his posture got tense all of a sudden, and you had the time of your fucking life doing that.

“No, I don’t,” you eventually answered, completely cracking your façade with an annoying grin. 

You got him so good that his relief couldn’t have been more apparent. You downright burst into heartfelt laughter as he rolled his eyes and reached for the glass of water in front of him.

“Why the fuck would you say that then, jesus fucking…” he downed the cold liquid in one go to calm down.

The venue, the view, the food, the conversation, everything was just so pleasant. By the end of the wine bottle, you were both properly buzzed and filterless, and the night only promised to get more candid with the two Brandy Alexanders that arrived at the table to serve as your digestifs.

“Okay, I gotta come clean about something,” you reached for your purse and fished for something in it, “I didn’t have it in me, but I did lie to you.”

When you showed him the slightly curved pastel purple bullet vibrator you had with you, Chris started laughing his ass off.

“You have a fucking problem, you know?”

“Whatevs, dude. I’m not gonna apologize for enjoying a sex-positive lifestyle.”

“Is that fancy talk for being super horny?” he raised his brows, “Why are you this worked up all the time?”

“It’s called having a high sex drive.”

He looked infinitely entertained, but when his laughter receded into the darkness, his expression got a tinge more serious. He looked like he was about to say something but was in desperate pursuit of the right things to say.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” you sipped on the creamy drink. Chris took a brief pause and finally spilled the beans.

“What you said to Minho the other day,” he started scratching his napkin without looking at you, “How come you can talk about these things so openly?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you shrugged, “Just because you’re into some uncommon stuff doesn’t mean there’s something fundamentally wrong with you.” 

“You’re not scared people would judge you for it?”

“They can if they want. At the end of the day, I’m the one who gets to have fulfilling sex while they are stuck with their orgasmless lives,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your legs under the table, “Don’t you have anything you enjoy a little left of the center that makes your toes curl really hard?”

Man, did he. 

Ironically enough, this was the first time anyone had openly asked him such a question—besides the people who had to know, that is. Otherwise, how was he going to get his money’s worth? Even talking to an experienced professional felt like he was losing five years of his life every single time. Sure, professional. He knew it. He just fucking knew that they thought he was a freak and wondered when he would stop visiting.

“Maybe,” he responded, eyes intently on his glass.

“Such as?”

He averted his eyes again. He wasn’t talking, but his silence told you everything you needed to know. That was why he had asked you that very question in the first place, wasn’t it? He really thought you would judge him for something like this.

Just what kind of people was Chris surrounded with to feel this way?

“Oh, come on. It’s not fair you know something that personal about me when I don’t know anything in return,” you nudged him a little.

“Then you shouldn’t have blurted it out.”

“What do you want as a guarantee?” you put your bargaining chip on the table to encourage him to open up to you, “I feel like simply giving you my word is not going to cut it.”

“No, it’s not,” Chris finally looked you in the eyes again, “Tell me something you wouldn’t tell anyone else that easily. Something that you would only tell someone you trust.”

Only someone you trust. 

You might have been comfortable in your own skin, but that obviously didn’t mean you would randomly share intimate details about yourself with strangers out of context. You had your fair share of skeletons locked in some closet somewhere, and the only reason you felt like you could joke about that with Minho that one time was… well, because it was Minho—a firm believer of ‘To each his own’ that gave no fucks, so you didn’t make much of it. It was simple banter. Then you suddenly remembered what Chris said to you in his office. 

Trust is not given. It’s fucking earned.

No wonder he was the most private person you knew. He was actually asking you to give him a reason so that he could begin to trust you.

“Oh, boy,” you jokingly hissed, “This is where you’ll think I’m super weird, isn’t it?”

“I would never do such a thing.” 

You knew he meant it. His voice came out firm, but not in its usual assertive tone. More like he was confronting you. Telling you that it was a lie.

It tugged at your heartstrings for some reason.

“Fine,” you heaved a very deep sigh, “I love possessiveness in bed. As a kink, not as a personality trait. Let’s get that super clear.”

“Possessiveness?” Chris contorted his face in mild confusion, “That’s what you think is outrageous?”

“It is because as much as it’s about belongingness, I like the extreme version of it during play.”

“Extreme as in?”

“The idea of having someone I’m into maniacally crazy about me does things to me. That’s as far as devotion can get.”

Oh. 

You were one of those, huh? A claim enthusiast who liked pushing the boundaries of worship to the next level. Simply telling you how beautiful you were wouldn’t do it for you, would it? You needed something more. Much more. A twisted proof of loyalty no matter how make-believe it was.

His pulse started escalating unbeknownst to him as if he was in the middle of watching a very tense scene of some suspense movie.

“So what is it? Is there an act associated with it, or…?”

“It’s the talk actually. Say we’re in the middle of sex and all of a sudden you go batshit crazy about how some guy looked at me earlier that day, throw pretend threats around, and fuck me harder because, and I quote, I’m yours only,” you grabbed your glass and looked right into his eyes, “I live for that shit.”

Yours only. 

So it was true—you did have a thing for claiming. Chris could actually feel something shifting in him, clicking together like a perfect match with his own longings, and it was getting much harder to restrain himself.

“Is that limited to roleplaying only, or do you have a thing for dirty talk in general?”

“Whatever feels natural. I’m agnostic about scripted sex, but I do believe in the potency of heartfelt cursing,” you put down your glass and clasped your hands on the table, “And if my partner starts moaning my name, I’ll probably cream myself five minutes in. Sound is a powerful thing.”

“So you like it when your partner is vocal.”

“You don’t? How else would you know there is mutual pleasure?” you made a fair point, “Would you rather I wait for my needs to dawn on you, or straight up tell you to fuck me as hard as you can when you’re choking me?”

His face changed drastically. You were doing it again, saying all these things, not having the slightest clue about how much it was affecting him. How much you were driving him crazy. How feral he was going just with your words alone. Or maybe you knew it perfectly and you were doing it on fucking purpose.

You flashed a satisfied smile when he gulped that thickly and got up to head to the restroom.

“Exactly,” you stroked under his chin with two of your fingers before you walked away and whispered into his ear, “Christopher.”

His eyes automatically closed when you touched him, and he felt his cock twitch hard as he let out a loud exhale.

God, I need to fuck you.

Chris never thought he’d see the day he would witness a reflection of himself in a different shade. Sure, he found you gorgeous, but it wasn’t simply a matter of looks. You were just so unapologetically yourself that he couldn’t help getting more and more attracted to you with every exchange. There was no way he could prove it, but you felt like a long-lost piece of him, and he just knew it in his bones that sex with you would be atom rearranging.

“Alright, where were we?” you pulled him back to earth when you returned to the table.

“You were giving me a handy tutorial on how to fuck you just right.”

Jesus fucking—

That was nothing short of impulsively divulging your intrusive thoughts like some subcategory of Tourette’s. He didn’t mean to say that out loud at all. Chris was still so much under the influence of his internal monologue about you that he blurted out without thinking, and even he knew how crass that came across. He was actually getting ready to correct himself before you beat him to breaking the silence and let out a heartfelt laughter.

“Yeah, about that, why am I the only one telling you about these things?” you furrowed your brows, “Long story short, just communicate with your partner and you’re golden.”

“Yeah, nah,” Chris reached for some water in response.

“Why not?”

“I’m not about to confess to someone that I enjoy the idea of defiling the fuck out of them when I’ll never see them again, okay? I need some aspects of my life to remain private.” 

“Defiling the fuck out of them, huh? Interesting,” you started drawing circles on the rim of your glass and tilted your head, “And what does that defiling entail exactly?”

The way you were looking at him, your posture, your voice… You were just so seductive that it was messing with his head, and he could feel how he was getting more defenseless by the second. He took a deep breath before answering and tried to pass it as an aloof comment.

“For example, I love it when my partner wears makeup.”

“How is that defiling them?”

“So that I can ruin it for myself.”

You throbbed so hard between your legs. Your expression must have visibly changed, too, since Chris seemed to have found a little more courage to elaborate.

“Your lipstick all over my cock. Your mascara running because of how much I’m making you sweat. That’s the dream,” he sipped on his drink while eating you alive with his eyes, “Am I wrong to assume you also like being watched in secret?”

“I like it when a partner watches me, not some random stranger. There’s a difference.”

“I wasn’t your partner, though.”

A sinister smile appeared on his lips, and you reciprocated it. Yes, he wasn’t a partner—you didn’t have sex on a technicality, but he wasn’t a random stranger, either. He was this magnificent thing that was haunting your dreams, and it was becoming impossible to resist his magnetism, not that you wanted to in the first place.

“Do you want to be?”

Chris just licked his lips in response while checking you out from head to toe. His mind was crawling with everything he wanted to do to you and good fucking god just why did you have to look like that?

“I enjoyed watching you,” he finally answered, “Maybe a bit too much.”

“Did you like what you saw?”

“Who doesn’t like custom porn? You look incredible when you cum,” his eyes slowly darted to your chest, “But you turn into a fucking goddess when you say my name.”

“Duly noted, Christopher,” you emphatically replied and finished your drink, “Enough about me. Time to spill.”

“Spill what?”

“What do your demons do when no one’s looking?”

Well, it was fair trade. You had answered all his questions quite satisfactorily thus far, so he could answer a couple for you in return.

“They tempt me to speed in the wrong lane.”

“Yeah? How’s that working out for you?”

“Okay, I guess,” he responded, seemingly indifferent, “Not everyone has the willingness to drive that fast, though.”

Maybe he had earned his trust issues, you wouldn’t know, but Chris was still not giving you straightforward answers. You wondered what it would take for him to confide in you.

“One of my hobbies is trying to get out of speeding tickets, just FYI.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it with me,” he warned, “I don’t stop when the motion sickness hits.”

“Do I look like a carpool rider to you?”

“No, but I’m not sure if you’ve driven a Porsche before. That ain’t the same thing as a Prius, you know.”

“No one’s ever offered to take me on a ride in a Porsche, but I did ride an eighteen-wheeler all by myself once. Does this answer your question?”

The more you talked, the more he was getting turned on—to such an extent that he was on the brink of risking it all. His breath hitched in his throat when he felt your foot on his, slowly sliding up his leg. 

You fucking know I can’t dick you down right here right now so you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? You’re a fucking demon.

“You don’t understand,” he closed his eyes to practice self-restraint, “I will want to hurt you every once in a while.”

“Context is everything,” you reached for his glass and stole a sip, “Is it to cause me actual discomfort or is there an underlying pleasure-related reason?”

“Like, I have a thing for biting.”

“What about it gets you going so much?”

“I don’t know. It’s like a temporary tattoo,” he explained further, “I like leaving traces on someone’s body.”

“So it’s not that you want to hurt me, but you want to mark me,” you corrected him to reassure him, “It’s not as scandalous as you think.”

You suddenly remembered your dreams. Not that it was any reflection of reality, but if there was an opportunity to fact-check, it was this.

“Neither is being into discipline, by the way.”

Chris heard that one word, and his lips involuntarily parted. Why? Why would you say that? Why would you even fucking mention that when it was his goddamn kryptonite?!

“So you want to pull my hair or spank me when I allegedly don’t listen to you. You can,” you casually informed him, “Choking is also not off the table in case you were wondering.”

He almost malfunctioned. He quite literally couldn’t have been any more seduced than this, and it was driving him crazy how nonchalant you were being.

“How do you even know you can trust me?” he finally asked the question he had been holding on to.

“I don’t,” you replied with no hesitation, “I’m just choosing to.”

“That’s one hell of a risk to take, don’t you reckon?”

“Where’s the fun if you’re not willing to take risks every once in a while?” you leaned back into your chair, “And if you’re a maniac, I’ll just press charges and sue your ass if I survive your murder attempt.”

He liked your dark humor. He loved it actually. You saw the first genuine smile he flashed ever since you met him, and it made your heart flutter.

“Anything for dessert, sir?”

Chris looked at you to give the waiter your order if you had any, and the opportunity had basically fallen in your lap.

“Do you have Boston Cream Pie on your menu by any chance?”

“Unfortunately no, miss, but we can have it prepared right away.”

“Pity. That’s my absolute favorite,” you responded looking directly at Chris, then warmly smiled at your waiter, “Let’s not burden the chef. Thank you very much.”

“Well, I will burden the chef,” Chris intervened, “We would like two of his famous figs to go, please. Slow baked with saffron glaze.”

“Right away, sir.”

The man left after refreshing your water glasses. All of a sudden, the bubble encapsulating your table started pulsating with faint buzzes of electricity. Chris would not look away from you as though trying to decode a century-long mystery in your eyes, and his smile was anything but tame.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice what you’ve been up to with your eccentric food choices all night,” you finally called him out.

“What am I up to?”

“You’re trying to get into my pants.”

“So perceptive,” he quipped, “I think it’s safe to say I’ll emerge victorious, though.”

“Arrogant much?”

“Are you denying how much you want to jump me right now?” 

You didn’t answer, but you couldn’t help the smile smeared on your lips, either. Chris, on the other hand, was thinking about how beautiful you looked every time you smiled at him like that.

“You really like Boston Cream Pie that much?”

You took a graceful sip from your glass, making sure to leave a moist print on the rim, then answered him with a straight face.

“I don’t eat anything else,” you licked the droplets off your lips, “That’s the staple food of a breeding enthusiast.”

“A breeding enthusiast, huh?” he feigned surprise, “What a coincidence that I never carry condoms on me.”

“You’re not scared we might have an accident?”

“Breeding enthusiasts are all talk no play. If I look into your purse, I bet my ass I’ll find your birth control pills.”

You burst out laughing, and it was so contagious that he joined in. His dimples… Oh, god, his dimples needed to come with a heart attack warning.

“Touché.”

“The presidential suite has one hell of a kitchen here,” he provided an unsolicited fact, “We can make the pie you’re craving so bad if you like.”

“Aren’t you the gentleman for offering?”

He reached into his blazer and flashed a keycard between two of his fingers. 

“Spend the night with me.”

You already knew where this was going, but it still started a riot in the pit of your stomach when he said it with so much intention. If you so much as slipped for one second, you were actually going to jump him right at that table.

“So you’re not asking, but you’re telling me to,” you quipped with an annoying grin.

“Yet you’re still not saying no.”

How could you? How could anyone for that matter? Who the fuck possessed the unmatched willpower and nerves of steel to say no to this glorious creature?

“I’d love to,” you finally gave him the answer he had been waiting for.

This was strictly sex in a neutral zone. In neither’s room. You covered your bases as you were headed to what was going to be a messy crime scene soon enough.

“What are your hard no’s?” Chris asked in the elevator, “Anywhere you don’t like being touched?”

“Just go with the flow, but the only bodily fluids I’m willing to exchange are cum, saliva, sweat, and occasional tears. You can do the math for the rest.” 

“You okay with me being rough with you?”

“It’s fine. If I’m ever uncomfortable, I’ll tap you on the shoulder three times to pace it down,” you informed him as you walked out, “Your dealbreakers?”

“Anything goes as long as you know whatever we do is just play. I won’t literally mean anything I say,” he fished for the keycard in his blazer, “And I don’t cuddle. When we’re done here, we’ll go back to our rooms.”

“Fair enough.”

The door clicked open with the swipe of the card, and the moment you stepped inside you could feel there was something pulsating in the air. The anticipation had built up so much that it wouldn’t be completely in the realm of impossible if you came the second he touched you. You took a minute to take in the night view through the panoramic window the bed was facing, trying to calm your nerves as much as you could.

Because this wasn’t just sex. This was sex with Chris.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” he wanted to confirm one last time, “I won’t ask again.”

You turned around to face him upon hearing his voice. Still unsure. Still somewhat hesitant. Still waiting for you to say no for some reason.

“I’m a big girl who knows what she wants, Chris,” you started walking towards him in front of the bed, “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” he replied with a total lack of pause.

“Then let’s see if you can really rewire my brain,” you threw your arms around his neck, “Before I rewire yours.”

You closed the distance between you until there was barely any air passing between you and whispered against his lips.

“Defile me.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Don’t throw that word around lightly,” he urged in panic and closed his eyes, “If I start, I will not stop.”

“Look at me.”

He was breathing heavily, trying to compose himself very much in vain. How would that ever be possible when you were that close to him? When your scent filled his nostrils to the brim? When he could practically taste you?

“From this moment on you own my body,” you held his chin. 

Chris was on the brink of going fucking insane. You touched his face, hellfire in your eyes screaming at him how serious you were. Then your lips slowly made their way into his ear. 

“But in return, I own yours.”

The tension building up between you for weeks exploded so fucking hard that it left not a single shred of sanity behind. In one-tenth of a second, you felt his grip on your nape pulling you in for a kiss. That couldn’t even be described as a kiss; he was practically inhaling you whole. You had never had such full lips invading yours before, and it felt a million times better than your dreams. Much hotter. Much wetter. He tasted like a lust reduction—the remnants of chocolate from the drink you shared mixed with his natural flavor so dense on your tongue that it was invading all your tastebuds. You grabbed the collar of his blazer and dragged him on top of you on the bed.

“Don’t you wanna know what’s been happening to your underwear?” he took a short breather from devouring you.

“I have an inkling.” 

“Yeah? How so?”

“I’d do the same if I had yours,” you bit into his lips, “You’re jerking off on them thinking about how much you want to defile me, aren’t you?”

You were just too good to be true. Chris was still trying not to go full berserk on you, but this was your fault for relentlessly seducing him the whole night. He was already marking hickeys all over your neck, then drawing a wet trail towards your chest. His hands peeled your shirt off you as you got rid of his top, both pieces of fabric getting almost ripped to shreds in the meantime, and he almost had a stroke finally seeing your bare chest in the flesh.

“Gorgeous,” he wiped his thumbs on your hardened nipples, drooling at the sight of them, “You’re fucking gorgeous. Fuck!”

It wasn’t even anything that extraordinary. Just him, topless, towering over your body on his knees as he was unbuckling his belt, but you could literally feel your loins burning. There could simply be nobody with a figure as mouthwatering as Chris’, and you were in complete disbelief that it belonged to you tonight. He took off your jeans, and there you were, only covered in a piece of black garment under him.

“That’s too fucking sexy,” he brushed his fingers along the waistband of the lace, “Did you expect to get fucked tonight?”

“People don’t only wear sexy lingerie when they want to get laid, you know.”

“You’re saying I played no part in your choice?”

“No.”

“I love the way you lie to me, beautiful.”

Beautiful.

The word kept echoing inside your head until it was the only thing you could register. You shamelessly grinned at him, and he reflected it back to you twofold. Feeling his body weight on you pushed you to an even more crazed state when he leaned in to steal a couple of more kisses from you. They were getting deeper and a tinge more unhinged with each swirl of his tongue around yours.

“Touch,” he eventually guided your hand over his boxers.

That second you reached for him felt like it dragged on for minutes. You’d been dying to know what he felt like for weeks now, and now you had full permission to scratch the itch that wasn’t leaving you alone even in your dreams. Closer. Closer. Much closer until you finally finally established skin-to-skin contact when you slipped your hand inside.

“Holy shit!” you inadvertently exclaimed when you felt his size in your palm.

“Too big for you to take?” he contently smirked at your reaction.

“Geez, are you one of those that need to hear how big they are to function properly?” you scoffed, “Be humble. Don’t ruin it.”

“Why? Doesn’t it get to your head when you hear what a perfect ass you have?” he dragged your bottom lip down with his thumb, then proceeded to fondle your breasts, “Don’t you like hearing you can kill a man with these?”

How the fuck did he know?!

He was literally airing the dirtiest laundry you had tucked away in some dark corner of your subconscious as if he was a permanent resident there all this time. Well, he actually was considering how much you’d been thinking about him, but still… Still…

“Kill a man, huh?” you put your hands on his and squeezed them, “Suck on them hard enough, maybe you can taste something else.”

You’d just said that to see whether there was any truth to it at all. To confirm whether the intense movies you watched when you were knocked out were based on true stories.

And judging by how hard Chris throbbed with that loud exhale, it seemed— It seemed like…

He lowered himself on your body, and you felt the warm wetness of his tongue swiping across the pebbled skin, teasing it, sucking on it, gently grazing his teeth on it as he would do while making out with you, hyperfocused on reconnecting the nerve endings on your nipples straight to your clit. You closed your eyes, and your fingers slithered in his hair, caressing him, thinking about how hard he would snap if you pulled on it right then and there.

“Just say it once,” he climbed the moist path he paved up your neck and sucked on your earlobe while breathily whispering, “It wouldn’t kill you to stroke my ego a little bit.”

“Your ego,” you sarcastically giggled, “Is that the name you gave to your cock?”

You felt the vibrations of his chuckle reverberate throughout your entire body, and it was just so pleasant to listen to. Chris wasn’t even fishing for praise; he was literally asking for it. 

Had you been seeing fucking premonitions all this time by any chance?

“No, it’s not too big for me to take,” you looked into his eyes, then ran your hands down his back from his shoulders, “But it is mouth-watering to think how much I’ll struggle when you stretch me.”

“You leave that to me. Just worry about creaming all over it, beautiful,” he started caressing your pussy with two of his fingers, “Give yourself to me now. Completely. All of you.”

Chris had been arousing you so fucking much the entire night that you had actually soaked through the layer of fabric. Getting you this wet barely doing anything was inflating his ego more than anything, and although he had promised himself to take it slow, he knew how miserably he was going to fail when he licked his fingers to get one taste of you.

He hooked his fingers behind your underwear and slid it down at a pace so slow, but that wasn’t to tease you. He was trying to mentally brace himself for impact for he didn’t know how hard he could snap when he was finally face to face with your drenched cunt. You tugged on his waistband to signal him to take it off for you, and while you were completely unaware of his internal clash, you were the one that almost shoved him into the mattress when you caught a glimpse of how much he was leaking because of you. His veins so traceable on his massive girth forced your salivary glands to start working over capacity.

You didn’t even need to tell him how big he was anymore. Watching you drool at his sight was everything Chris could ask for at that moment.

He descended between your legs, and the warmth of his large hands transferred from his palms to the supple skin of your thighs, spreading all over your body at a concerning speed. You could feel his breath on your pussy, but he just wouldn’t make a move. Just admiring your slick folds with a lovesick stare, gently stroking your labia while sinking his teeth into his lips, and refusing to touch anywhere that had the slightest trace of moisture on it. It was embarrassing how frequently you were pulsating right in front of his face, but a part of you stopped giving a fuck.

“You’re going to stop bringing toys at work, otherwise I swear to fucking god,” he uttered in a maximally intimidating tone while shooting daggers at you with his eyes, “You’re either cumming in my mouth, or you’re not cumming at all. Is that clear?”

“Why? Does it hurt your pride, Christopher?”

“Don’t talk back to me,” he sank his fingertips into your thighs, causing you to hiss at the delicious sizzle, “Don’t force me to condition you to do as I say.”

“I’d love to see what that looks like.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t recommend it at all,” he shot you a perverse smile, then finally…

Finally…

“God, FUCK!”

He sent a violent shockwave down your spine when he latched those luscious lips to your clit, and you jolted hard in your place. Chris buried his face into you, kissing your slick folds like he had been touch starved all his life, sucking on your clit like you were secreting the elixir of life, and licking into your throbbing hole to prepare you for when he would wear you like a tight sleeve around him. The obscenely wet sounds he was making while brazenly smacking his lips on your dripping pussy forced you to cave way earlier than you thought you could endure.

“Just… Fuck— More,” you clawed at his shoulders, “Finger me. Please.”

“No. Nothing’s going in there before my cock,” he breathily spoke against your slit, causing you to writhe in frustration, “Why don’t you tell me all your intrusive thoughts about me instead? I like having something in the background when I’m eating.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t recommend it at all,” you reflected his earlier remark back at him, but it didn’t faze Chris one bit.

“Just so you know, there’s nothing hotter than listening to someone’s messed up fantasies about me. Especially when they turn me on this fucking much,” he licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, “Do it, or I’ll frustrate you until you sob.”

You were in no headspace to properly censor yourself. The buzz of the drinks you’d been downing all night combined with your extreme arousal levels hacked its way through all your defenses and disarmed it. You closed your eyes and allowed Chris to force you to narrate your fantasies at tongue point.

“I want to crawl into your bed when you’re sleeping,” you started describing the images behind your eyelids, “Suck you off to get you hard for myself first. I’ll be careful not to wake you up, but honestly? I don’t give a shit if you do. I’m sitting on you no matter what.”

Chris contently sighed into you, and satisfied with the picture you were painting him, he started swirling his tongue around your clit again with nowhere near enough pressure.

“I’ll ride you until I cum all over you. If you can manage to cum somehow, great, but I’m not exerting any effort to get you to blow. I just wanna use you to get off, then bounce.”

You felt his soundwaves inside you when he softly chuckled. You knew you were on the right path when he paired his licks with sucks on your clit.

“I want you to be so violently obsessed with me that I want to manifest in your dreams every fucking night. I want you to throw hysterical jealousy fits when someone breathes in my general direction,” you started rolling your hips into his face, “I want to haunt your every waking thought. I want you to be fucking restless whenever you’re not fucking me.”

Chris was for sure going insane now. Nothing could be as animalistically erotic as listening to the worst ways you wanted him directly from you, and he could legitimately cum just to your voice rendered in that desperate and eager tone. Nevertheless, he needed to pace himself to stop you and himself from prematurely cumming because he was nowhere near done with you.

“Let me take you out one night when we go back. You’ll get all dolled up for me. We’ll have a good time,” he placed a kiss on your mound, then looked directly into your eyes, “Until you start flirting with people right in my face just to piss me off.”

Oh, Chris was such a quick study. He didn’t waste any time to put what he learned into good use, and just with his opening statements alone, you were willing to give him five stars already.

“I’m not gonna kiss you. I’m not even gonna touch you. I’ll just keep whispering the nastiest things in your ear the whole night and drive you crazy,” he kept drawing the laziest circles around your clit with his thumb, “You’ll beg me to fuck you, but you should have been careful what you wished for. When we get home, I’m fucking you until you can moan nothing but sorry. You fucking know you’re not allowed to look at anyone else but me. You brought this on yourself.”

“And you think that’s punishing me?” you chuckled, insisting on producing snarky remarks even in that disheveled state.

“Oh, no, baby girl. Your punishment is crying in my bed all night. You’re gonna beg me to stop eating your pussy for how much you can’t take it anymore,” he collected as much of his saliva as he could and let it drip down your clit, “Keep crying then because I’m making you cum until you fall in love with me all over again.”

“God, fucking bite me!”

Chris took a juicy bite from your thighs, then started stroking himself to full hardness while diving into your cunt headfirst. His rhythm on your clit got much more fervent, and your moans were climbing to a higher pitch, becoming much more frequent with each lick. You were close. You were about to give him what he was craving for the longest time, but not in the way he wanted.

He stopped.

You let out such a frustrated whimper that it was music to his ears. He wiped his mouth clean, then got on his knees to align his length with you. He was giving you the signal—that he was about to satisfy the raging curiosity for the both of you. Of what it felt like being inside you. Of what it felt like having you tightly wrapped around him.

“No protection?” you feigned obliviousness when he made no attempt for it.

“What protection? How else am I gonna be able to knock you up?” he pressed his flushed tip against your entrance, “Why do you think I kept feeding you oysters all night long, baby girl?”

Chris was barely in as it was, but his insinuation made you clench so hard that you inadvertently squeezed him out of you, which he didn’t like at all.

“Shh, behave,” he shot you a firm look, “Be grateful I’m not shoving myself into you. I’m being nice here.”

His girth was so deliciously thick that a part of you wanted to feel that sudden stretch, but another part of you was enjoying the way he was slowly paving his into you with shallow thrusts, grazing against every single inch of your walls and molding you into a perfect sleeve for himself. 

“Say it to my face. Say what you were moaning about me to my face now,” he spoke, mere millimeters away from hitting a dead end inside you, “How it wasn’t enough. That you need me.”

Your hands reached to grab his nape, and you pulled him close so that he was right in your face when you spat the words.

“You fucking know what you’re doing to me when you tease me, don’t you? I can’t fucking stand you. Nothing will ever be enough until you fuck my sanity out of me, that’s how much I need you,” you squeezed his jawline from both ends with a single hand, “Now you know how much I mean it when I say defile me.”

Your words caused such acute onset ferality inside him that Chris rammed himself inside you at the exact moment his lips clashed with yours, causing your moans to spill in his mouth. Full. That was the only sensation you could process. Just full. He was conquering you inch by inch, claiming all the space you had to offer him for himself with every push. 

“Pull my hair.”

You held his locks drenched in sweat in a tight grip and tugged on them, but it wasn’t enough. When you looked like that, felt like that, sounded like that it could never be enough.

“Harder, baby girl,” he pleaded through his labored breathing, “Make it hurt.”

Upon his request, you yanked it back so hard that his neck was exposed to you in its full glory.

“Oh, FUCK yeah!”

You could feel the signs of trust building more and more between you, but it felt more like soul bonding. Even when you allegedly hurt each other, it was dosed accordingly to inflict just enough pain that wouldn’t cross the threshold of pleasure.

You wondered whether there were any matches that were forged in hell once every full moon.

You sneakily wrapped your legs around his waist and waited for a moment to catch him off guard, then rolled him over to trap him under you.

“Let’s go on a ride, shall we?”

You pulled him out of you and nestled between his legs as Chris rested his tattoo-ridden arms under his nape, just watching you wrap your mouth around his drenched cock with his lips apart. You shamelessly showed him what you were capable of first, carefully taking all of him down your throat without even gagging, making his eyes roll back with a guttural moan. Your saliva was dripping from the corners of your lips every time he throbbed in your mouth. When his breathing finally started to escalate again, you stopped.

Now it was your turn to have your fun.

You worshipped his entire crotch first, leaving lewd wet kisses all over him to get him to twitch for you. His inner thighs, his blunt tip, his engorged length, his shaft, his balls… All soaked with you through and through. You licked the white trails you left on him clean with torturously slow movements, then admired how his veins bulged when you lazily stroked his cock. You knew he wanted much more than this, but Chris didn’t even try to lead you and just basked in the ecstasy overdose you were pumping into his veins. He kept quietly hissing and moaning throughout the whole thing, but when you started making your way further down his balls, his excitement suddenly peaked. 

And the moment your tongue connected to his entrance, he moaned so loudly that you knew you had him in a chokehold.

You held his girth in a somewhat gentle grip and kept caressing him as your tongue carefully explored him. Deep enough to rip his soul apart but still shallow not to disturb his comfort. Chris couldn’t even talk. All he could do was let out euphoric moans and tangle his fingers in your hair to watch exactly how you were ascending him.

He was simply possessed by you.

“Say you’re mine,” you spoke against his skin, “Say it, or else I’m never letting you cum.”

“God, you fucking own me,” he throbbed hard under your touch, “All of me. It’s yours.”

Content with the response you received, you started stroking him faster and getting him even wetter in your mouth. The sudden change felt so overwhelming that Chris wasn’t going to be able to take it much longer.

“Fucking— Don’t!!!” he abruptly stopped you and sat up in one go, “On fours. Bend over.”

You promptly fulfilled his request and first felt a wet kiss on your nape, then his hands on your ass.

“Face down. Arch it. All the way up,” he landed a delicious smack on your hips, “Both hands on your back for me.”

His tip was pressing against your entrance again, giving you such short notice of what was about to go down. Hands pinning your wrists on your lower back, Chris bottomed out with one sharp thrust, eliciting that high-pitched moan he developed a quick addiction to from your throat again. His lips never left your neck as he kept relentlessly fucking your wits out of you. 

“It’s only right if I mark my territory, huh baby girl?” he uttered with a maniacal chuckle as drops of his sweat started pooling on your back, “I’ll fill you up so much it’s going to fucking gush out of you.”

The ownership was about to drive you irrevocably insane. He was hitting a spot so deep inside you that you were seeing white, and whatever Chris told you to do at that moment, you would do it no questions asked.

“Harder,” you squeezed him as tight as you could inside you, “Fuck me harder!”

“Will you moan like that for me when I ruin your ass?” he released your arms and slammed his hands on your hips, “Will you tell me to fuck you harder then, too?”

“So fucking cocky. No one cums from anal, Christopher,” you derided as annoyingly as you could just to piss him off. 

“Aww, you can’t? It’s okay baby girl, we’ll fix that for you,” he tangled his hands in your hair again, “Who do you belong to? Tell me.”

“You.”

“Say it,” he pulled on it to get his message across, “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“I’m yours, Christopher.”

Again. Just like your dream. That just could not be a coincidence at this point.

“Say it!” he urged you once again upon your lack of response.

“I’m– I’m yours, Christopher.”

“Yes, you are,” he placed a sloppy kiss on your back, “You’re mine. Only mine.”

He stopped his ministrations and swiftly turned you around, hurriedly shoving himself inside you again as if he would die if you weren’t wrapped around him.

“Look into my eyes,” he touched your face with an odd amount of compassion that didn’t quite belong to the scene, “I will not pull out, you hear me?”

“Are you expecting me to beg you no?” you started laughing hysterically, “If you knock me up, everyone’s going to hear about it.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, baby girl. You want this to be our dirty little secret as much as I do.”

You locked your legs around his waist so that he actually couldn’t pull out. You pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, and the way you played with his tongue combined with how hard you were clenching around him made him spill inside you with throaty moans quite soon. You allowed him some time to catch his breath, and once he was able to come down from his high, he carefully pulled out of you.

“Watch it drip,” you spread your legs wider, “Watch the mess you made.”

Chris broke into an extremely satisfied smile tracing the thick, white liquid with his eyes, and quickly found himself wrapping his arms around your thighs again.

“There’s my Boston Cream Pie.”

He messily slurped on your entrance to get a taste of the concoction you created together, then latched himself to your clit. You were on the very brink of the ledge anyway, so it didn’t even take ten sucks for you to arch into his mouth. But was that enough for Chris?

What a redundant fucking question.

Your legs still shaking out of control, you attempted to stop him, but he just didn’t give a fuck and carried on with his delectable overstimulation. He finally gave you what you wanted, although a bit too late, and fucked his cum back inside you with his fingers, tongue still at war with your swollen clit.

“Don’t even try to squirt it out. It’s staying inside until it holds and that’s it.”

He was saying one thing but doing another. He told you not to squirt it out, yet once his fingers discovered the self-destruct button inside you, he ruthlessly teased it until he got you pouring inside his mouth. Barely having any of your mental faculties intact, you weren’t able to talk at all, so you mustered whatever strength you could to tap his shoulder three times. Otherwise, you were simply going to combust.

Deep into the late AM hours, you were both floating in bliss. This was by far the most mindblowing sex of your life. As for Chris… 

Except for his regular appointments, this was the first time he didn’t have a mask on when he got in bed with someone, and he was simply dumbfounded at how the fuck he was able to cross paths with a person who was on an uncannily similar wavelength with him. 

Just how were you even real?

After taking quick showers, you left this fever dream behind and headed to your separate rooms.

“Had fun?” 

“So much,” Chris answered, his eyes intently on the carpet covered floor, “Too much, actually.”

“Likewise,” you smiled at him and swiped the keycard on your door, “Good night, Chris.”

“Listen, would you—?”

You turned to your left with one hand still on the door handle, brows raised, waiting for him to complete his sentence.

“...wanna repeat this? On a regular basis, I mean.”

“You wanna be fuck buddies?” you contorted your face in surprise.

“I don’t fancy that term, but something of the sort,” he leaned against his own doorframe, “This kind of compatibility is pretty rare to come by. I thought I’d shoot my shot.” 

The heck?

Never in a gazillion years would you guess the hotshot chef, who was simultaneously your boss and the lead star of your X-rated thoughts, would ask for an arrangement of this sort with you. It caught you so off guard that you didn’t know how to respond to him at first, yet he took your silence for something else.

“Only if you want, of course. If not, we’re never going to speak of this again.”

“On one condition,” you promptly replied when your wits finally clicked back into their sockets.

“Listening?”

“I want free use,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “Whenever I want to fuck you, you say yes to me.”

Chris was prepared for several different kinds of no’s, maybe one uneventful yes, but you straight up asking for fucking free use?

In his most creative lucid dreams maybe.

“And when I want to fuck you?” he nonchalantly asked as if he wasn’t dying of excitement inside.

“I say yes to you.”

“Whenever I mean.”

“Of course,” you shrugged, “Just don’t expect me to come to your place in the middle of the night when the craving hits. Then I don’t come to you, you come to me. If you can bring your ass to my place, I’m yours.”

You were the one with the blaring possessiveness kink, yet the second you said I’m yours, Chris felt something shooting all the way up to his brain, and the pronoun kept echoing inside his head.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

“But what if I want to do things to you that might scare you?” he asked somewhat scared but still keeping perfect composure on the outside.

“What did I tell you earlier tonight? Just talk to me,” you took a couple of steps towards him, “I can’t promise to say yes to everything you want, nor can I expect you to do the same, but we’ll discuss it.”

You didn’t know where that excess confidence came from all of a sudden, but you watched yourself stealing a kiss from his plush lips as if you had gone out of your own body. It was the tamest thing you had exchanged the entire night, yet ironically enough, it was also the most exhilarating one.

“I might want some things that might scare you, too,” you spoke against his lips.

Chris couldn’t open his eyes for some time and relished the aftershocks of the kiss he wasn’t expecting at all, eventually breaking into a faint smile. When he finally met your gaze again, you could see glints of eagerness flashing brightly in those deep brown eyes of his.

“Deal.”

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

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「𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗」 · course iv

❝𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠.❞

WC: 10k (42 min. avg. reading time)

⛔ — Not suitable for readers who might get triggered by rough play and/or themes of sexual deviance. The author chooses not to issue tags for every act to preserve tension and some element of surprise. By clicking "Keep Reading", you accept to proceed at your own risk.

⚠ — Objectifying language, fantasies related to sharing and providing extreme pleasure, use of a fictional aphrodisiac, threesome, spitting, cumplay (lots of it), a lot of breeding talk (see masterlist for more).

★ There is no taglist. Please turn on notifications if you wish to be updated.

※ This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

Chris liked his satin sheets. They absorbed the synthetic breeze of his AC and kept him comfortably cool during scorching summers. He was used to spending his nights alone between them—sometimes basking in the violent delights of his subconscious, sometimes exploring his body afresh fully awake.

But he couldn’t remember a single time where he was this turned on.

At first, he thought it was because of a dream. When he snapped his eyes open, he felt an unusual heaviness on his body and he was sweating. It was natural for him to feel the aftertaste of his dreams on his tongue, but not only could he not remember what he was dreaming about, but the feeling still continued while he was awake.

It was hard to describe what it exactly was. He was hard as a rock. His arousal wouldn’t calm down in the slightest as if he was getting edged for the past hour or so, and there was this unfamiliar feeling right under his shaft. 

He felt penetrated, but not in the way he occasionally indulged in. This was a much much pleasant sensation.

Was that… you?

Was that how you felt when you were snugly wrapped around him? Was that what caused you to let out those maddeningly satisfying sounds of pleasure when he made himself at home inside you? Was that the kind of gratification he was able to provide you? 

Did you have any idea what this was doing to his ego right now?

Maybe this was what it would feel like if you pegged him. Maybe he needed to ask you to do that. Maybe you could give him the most violent orgasm of his life. 

You were like this hypnotizing temptress sent as an answer to all his cries for help. A goddess watching over him, telling him it was okay to commit as many abominations as he wanted as long as he worshipped you. As long as he devoted himself to you. Only you. The texture of your skin was his 3 AM thoughts. The shape of your lips fueled his worst nightmares. Your unmatched appetite for him was how he was going to die. You, you, just you, the sole perpetrator of all the crimes of passion committed against him, and he lived to be your victim.

“Harder,” he quietly mumbled with his eyes closed, “Like you want me to.”

He had never experienced something like this before. He didn’t even have conclusive proof that he was feeling you, but considering his borderline monomaniacal interest in you, it just could not be anyone else, he was sure of it. Were you dreaming this or were you actively pleasuring yourself right at that second? Or were you fucking yourself to him, or were you with someone else?

What if you were with someone else? 

Who the fuck was this person? Why would you even feel the need for another person when he existed? Your chemistry was off the charts; he could give you anything you could ask for, then why the fuck—?

Did you want him to know there was another person? Were you after making him want you even more? Drive him up a wall? Go crazier about you? Because it was working.

What if there was someone else, though? What if Chris watched this person’s laughable attempt to give you pleasure and the resultant miserable failure, then took over to show them how to properly satisfy you? What if the way you fucked each other was so damn hot that this waste of oxygen couldn’t help masturbating to how you consumed one another? What if you told Chris you fucking loved it when he got jealous over you? What if you told him you were so glad he existed and that he could have you anytime he wanted if he was going to fuck you like this every time? He would. He would. He could give you so much more, just say the word. He would even be willing to share you with someone just to fucking put them in their place. It would be so much fun to humiliate them together with you. Pathetic. Pitiful. Who the fuck were they to even think they had a chance with you? You belonged to him. You were his goddess. He was the only one who could read your beautifully sick mind, and you could rewrite a much more lethal bad romance together.

“Oh fuck, you’re killing me, beautiful.”

Chris wasn’t even touching himself. He rested his arms under his nape and treated this like he was getting his dick sucked. Thinking of you. Of your voice. Of your taste. Of the most obscene memories he had of you. The time you told him all your unhinged thoughts about him. The time you told him he owned your body. 

The time you told him to defile you. 

All of a sudden, he felt a tidal wave rising in the pit of his stomach, forcing him to arch in his bed, his cum gushing from his cock and staining all over his abdomen. Without a single touch. Just the ghost of you, haunting him.

But it wasn’t enough.

How could it be enough? How could he make do with what might have happened when he damn well knew what could happen given the agreement you had recently made?

Just don’t expect me to come to your place in the middle of the night when the craving hits. Then I don’t come to you, you come to me. If you can bring your ass to my place, I’m yours.

You had said it yourself. You shouldn’t have said it if you weren’t going to honor it. This wasn’t on him; this was your doing.

He didn’t even check what time it was before jumping from his bed for a quick shower and darting to his car with urgent steps. The second he started the engine, he found your name on his dashboard and pressed the green receiver icon next to it. It rang once. Twice. Thrice. Your dazed voice echoed in the car right before the fourth time.

“Chris?”

“Wake up if you’re sleeping,” he demanded with an impatient voice, “I’m on my way.”

Then he hung up and hit the gas pedal harder.

Only ten minutes later, he was parked right in front of your building, considering whether it would be faster if he ran up twelve floors worth of stairs. He didn’t want to wait, but he so didn’t want to wait to catch his breath once you opened that door. There was not even one second to waste.

“You say I’m horny, but I beg to differ,” you welcomed him with an entertained smile, “It’s 4 AM, Chris.”

“Shut up and sit on me,” he took off his jacket while crossing the threshold of your apartment with rushed steps, “I wanna fuck you raw without stretching you.”

“Then say you need me.”

“I need you,” he cupped your face and gritted his teeth, “I never not need your body. Fuck!”

Your lips immediately clashed against one another, and the amount of violence in that kiss was quite telling of what was about to follow. You dragged him to your bedroom while walking backwards with your lips glued together, hastily taking off everything that covered each other’s body and creating a messy trail made of garments out in the hallway.

“Didn’t even bother tidying up,” he snickered once he saw the large dildo laying on your nightstand, “Did I interrupt your self-care time?”

“You stopped by just in time actually,” you responded while spreading your legs for him, “I think I may have manifested you here.”

“Yeah?” he broke into a bigger smile while aligning himself with you, extremely content with your answer, “Were you thinking about me?”

“I’m never not thinking about you when I fuck myself,” you put your hands on his waist, “Do a better job. Fuck me to sleep.”

And that was the last straw. 

Chris didn’t even look for some lube, not that he needed much anyway. Your cunt was wet enough from edging yourself for the past hour or so. He rammed his cock into you so hard as if you were starving him, as if he hadn’t been visiting your apartment lately in gradually more frequent intervals. This. This feeling was his fix, better than the purest cocaine he could get his hands on, and you were his sole plug. In return, you always felt much fuller with him inside you than trying to substitute him with some synthetic counterpart. As the name suggested, it was synthetic. Nothing compared to the feeling of Chris throbbing inside you when you told him to go harder. Go faster. Use you as he wanted.

“Shit, cumming,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m fucking cumming. Clench!”

He shot his full load on the deepest spot he could reach, fucking all the drops of cum on the shallow end of you further just to make sure they stayed where they belonged. He rode the waves of his orgasm pulling out of you until just his tip was in, then completely disappearing into you again, thrusts never losing their sharpness one bit.

“Thank you,” you flashed him a tired and utterly fucked out smile. He smiled back. Then left as quickly as he arrived.

Chris never stayed. He wouldn't be able to even if he wanted to. That was the rule.

You wondered how hard you would need to fuck him until he was too tired to leave.

The next morning went by uneventfully. The usual buzz of the kitchen served as white noise to keep everyone focused on their tasks for dinner service. Chopping, grating, kneading…  Microsurgical precision even during prep because otherwise you would besmirch the good name of Wolfgang and how fucking dare you?

Came the lunch break, Minho and Robin walked into the kitchen with a special dessert in their hands. You knew what that was because Robin only made it for special occasions, and it befuddled the crap out of you because you hadn’t told a soul about your birthday.

“How’d you guys know?!”

“Employee records,” Minho satisfied your curiosity momentarily, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Whatever’s going to get me the Alfred cheesecake. Thank you guys so much!”

You blew out the single candle and hugged everyone one by one. Minho was the one to hug you last. His cologne smelled so pleasant on your nostrils, and unless you were fucking delusional, it felt like he stole a whiff from your neck himself.

“Chef is asking for you,” he informed you before you could overanalyze anything, “If he rides you hard, you tell me.”

He had no idea of the absolute double entendre his words carried, so you pushed your internal wheezing down as much as you could. 

“I’ll make sure to show you where the bullies are,” you smiled at him and left the kitchen.

One interesting detail to note as you were climbing the stairs that led to Chris’ office was that when you stood in front of his door to announce your arrival, you were a little nervous for some reason.

“You asked for me?”

“Come in,” he beckoned you over, and continued after you closed the door behind you, “I heard it was actually the first hours of your birthday last night when I came by.”

“Duh, you should have known. It’s called a birthday suit for a reason.” 

He let out an amused chuckle while reclining in his chair. His features seemed a little softer than usual, but it could very well have been an optical illusion because of his dimples.

“I wanted to properly wish you a happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Sit.”

You moved towards the couch in front of his desk, but he stopped you halfway through.

“No,” he tapped on his desk with two of his fingers, “I said sit.”

You held his gaze for a couple of seconds, but it felt like half an hour. It was surely unexpected for him to initiate anything at his shrine as he called it, but there he was, telling you to sit on his desk. Right in front of him. On his eye level. You approached him with slow steps and settled on the spot he guided you to.

“It’s lunch break,” he stated the obvious fact, “Time to eat.”

It was mindblowing how Chris could be nonstop horny like a college freshman who was a virgin until very recently, but you actually liked it. No, you loved how eager he was. How much he seemed to want you. You loved being the object of his desires.

“Aren’t you going to stop me?” he asked while pulling himself close to you.

“Why would I?” you nonchalantly responded, “Have you ever blown yourself? Those lips make me wanna murder someone.”

“What if someone comes in?” he started undoing the buttons of your pants and dragged your zipper down.

“Maybe I like the risk.”

“What if they report it?” he slid your pants down your legs.

“Then it’s your problem. I’m just following the orders of my boss.”

“You don’t think I’m being a creep?”

“You would be if I wasn’t this into you. I think you’re just being a tease right now.”

Chris loved any indication of how sexy you found him. He never got tired of hearing this, and he was never going to. 

“So you’re into me,” he slowly got rid of your underwear, “How much?”

You spread your legs wide as a response to show him how wet you were. How much he liked the view was apparent in the depth of the sigh he let out.

“I’m quite into you, myself. A lot, actually,” he held your gaze intently, “Wanna see exactly how much?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip and nodded. Chris brought his beautiful face closer to your heat almost in slow motion and finally finally closed his luscious lips on your glazed folds, causing you to exhale deeply. 

“Up. Down. Up. Suck. A little more. Now swirl. Fuck, just like that.”

Combined with his leftover thoughts from the night before, the way you were guiding him sparked an idea in his mind. What if he was the one giving these commands? 

But to someone else.

What if he told a third party what to do to you? What if he watched another guy have his way with you? Just so he could hear how much better he knew you, he fucked you, he pleasured you. What if they had you cater to them, then pleasured you until you passed out as a thank you?

It drove him insane.

Chris followed all your instructions to a T, extracting all your essence out of you shortly after. He particularly enjoyed how you were caressing his hair when you were cumming in his mouth.

“I need to eat too, you know,” you spoke once you managed to come to your senses, and it elicited a silky chortle from him.

“Shit you call ‘girl dinner’ nowadays I swear…”

“Wanna switch places or do you want me to kneel?”

“I like it when you kneel for me,” he ran his fingers through your hair, then allowed you to descend between his legs and nestle there.

His erection was already pressing hard against his pants, impatiently waiting to be set free. You took his pants off and spread his legs wide, trying not to drool at how hard he was for you. It was like he was getting more gorgeous every time you saw him. You teased his tip the way he liked it, slowly dragging your tongue on the sensitive skin, and softly kissing along his girth.

“I can’t stop thinking about fucking you. I have a problem,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “You just breathe in my general direction and I get rock hard.”

This. The talk. He knew the exact right things to say to spur you on. It could have been pretend, but you didn’t care one bit. It always made you want to please him more. You licked, and licked, and licked, then took him deep down your throat.

“God, I so wish we were in my bed right now,” Chris quietly whimpered at the intense sensation, throwing his head back, “You look so beautiful like that, I kinda wanna give you a cumshot.”

You hummed at the mental image, and he melted. You were fucking perfect around his cock as if your mouth was made to suck him off. So that he could empty his balls there whenever he wanted. You sighed deeply, and he felt the pressure building right below his abdomen.

“Get up. I’m cumming inside.”

He quickly sat you down on his desk again, and disappeared into you, holding you in place from your waist as he was drilling you hard. Then he exposed your neck to give you the sloppy kisses he always did, but he smelled something unusual but very familiar already laced there.

Minho’s cologne.

“Thoughts on knotting, baby girl?” his thrusts got way sharper all of a sudden as if he wanted you to alert the people in the vicinity.

“If you can somehow manage to do it, I’m super down,” your fingers slithered towards his nape to hold on tighter.

“Who else? You know your pussy is mine to breed.”

Chris could feel something boiling inside him. He wasn’t mad at you per se, but he was mad nevertheless. The thoughts riddling his mind were getting out of control already, and the existence of this scent on you surely didn’t help calm him the fuck down. He was going to say it. He was going to risk it all and say it. If you asked what the hell the matter was with him, he could just say it was a spur of the moment thing and that he didn’t mean it.

“Though I wouldn’t mind watching someone else fuck you.”

His words pressed a button in your brain, and you remembered your very first dream about Chris. In his crisp suit, sprawled on a couch, sipping on some expensive scotch while watching you get devoured. He would listen to you moan. He would get hard to your screams of pleasure. He would stroke himself to your sight maybe. Maybe he would cum. Maybe he would ask you to swallow even.

You clenched.

“You– You wanna share me with someone?”

“Not share, per se, I just wanna see them try. To prove no one can make you feel the way I do.”

“That’s so damn cocky even by your standards,” you sneered, “but I kinda wanna see how you can claim me back.”

Oh, good fucking god, you liked this.

He started going faster. You pressed your palm against your mouth to stop yourself from making loud noises until you got used to the new rhythm.

“You’ll wait for me to say your name when some guy fucks the wits out of me, but I just won’t,” you spat through your teeth, “You’ll regret ever inviting a third person when you could have all of this to yourself.”

“See the best part about fucking you is not even cumming. It’s how fucking dirty you are. It’s the ride,” he briefly stopped to wrap your legs around his waist, “It’s the best fucking thrill ride I’ve ever been on.”

His fingertips were sinking into your ass, and he found that soft, spongy spot inside you that he loved so much. He was getting close.

“I kinda wanna make you pass out from pleasure, but keep fucking you. You’ll come to your senses with your pussy in my mouth. Then we’re fucking again,” he tangled his fingers in your hair, “What are you doing Saturday, baby girl?”

“Thinking of a birthday party. Wanna come?”

“Cancel it. You’re fucking me.”

He pulled on your hair at the last word and started dashing to his finish line. When you bit into his neck, it sizzled so good that he erupted inside you as if you threw a molotov cocktail into a tank of gasoline. You let him spill every last drop and rest his head on your shoulder until he came down from his high.

“Did you mean it? When you said…” he hesitated, but he needed an actual answer, “About someone else?”

“I mean, depends,” you responded while putting your clothes back on, “I need to know for sure they are discreet.”

The scent of the cologne that didn’t belong to him was all Chris could think about. Discreet. So as long as it was discreet it was okay with you?

One look at his metaphorical chips, and Chris decided to go all in.

“What if I know just the person?”

You had some memorably wild birthdays back in the day, but none of them required any negotiation beforehand. In your defense, you also never had a boss with benefits in possession of an inhumanely high libido.

The plan sounded simple, ‘sounded’ being the operative word. You were initially apprehensive about how this could potentially turn out awkward after the fact, but Chris reassured you on that front with how much he trusted this person. He had offered to be the middle man of communication so that everybody was aware of the mutually agreed upon ground rules prior to your meeting.

“So what do you have in mind?”

“You’ll get a free pass. Whatever you desire, we oblige, but on one condition,” Chris explained to you, “He can’t do anything I haven’t done to you before. Nor can you do anything to him you haven’t done to me.”

“Say I wanna peg him?”

“No one’s stopping you. You’re just pegging me first.”

“It’s my birthday, but this sounds like you have the ropes still,” you cocked a brow.

“Oh, I do, don’t I?” he faked an epiphany, then broke into a mischievous smile, “Would you look at that?”

Thus the reason why you felt like you were on your way to some set on Saturday night.

One interesting suggestion had come from your guest for the night. Were you to accept it, he recommended ingesting a substance called ‘24K’, popularly known as liquid gold, to heighten the experience.

“What does it do? Get us high?”

“Not in the way you think,” Chris clarified, “It’s an actual aphrodisiac used in some rare recipes with strict dosage restrictions. It will kick up your sex drive, and your senses will also be much more sensitive.”

“And that doesn’t sound like a hallucinogen to you?”

“Does it really matter what it sounds like as long as it feels like you’re getting gangbanged when I eat your pussy?” he smirked, but continued more seriously, “Joking aside I would say an unequivocal no if I didn’t know what it was. The decision is yours.”

You weren’t really sure if the decision you made was the right one, but you were excited about it.

The meeting location was decided as Chris’ place. Up until now, it was always him coming over to your apartment, which wasn’t a deliberate thing to prevent you from coming over or anything—he just visited so frequently that you didn’t feel the need to change venues, so this was going to be your first time seeing his habitat in the flesh. The building was very much on par with what you allowed yourself to imagine when you saw his address—a luxury condominium with a hotelesque high-ceiling lobby, extremely polite staff, and a handful of people who you assumed to be occupants walking around looking like they were cast to be there. Yes, that good looking.

“Right away, sir,” the model-like gentleman that welcomed you quietly hung up the phone, and swiped a tiny envelope with the building logo embossed across the granite counter, “Here’s your one-time code, miss.”

“A code?” you looked at him questioningly.

“Yes, to operate the elevator since it directly goes up to Mr. Bang’s residence,” he confirmed, “It’s on the top floor.”

A penthouse. Why were you even surprised in the first place?

You did know about Chris’ fame, of course, but you had to admit how foreign it felt for a second there. In reality, he was so unreachable that people needed one-time codes to cross the threshold of his privacy. Meanwhile, you had gotten so used to his presence that he had stopped being Chef Bang to you some time ago—he was just regular Chris, albeit still quite extraordinary. You could be so full of yourself for thinking this, but the amount of comfort you shared with each other seemed like something special. Special to the extent that it made you smile so big when you opened the envelope to enter the four-digit code into the elevator keypad.

Your birthday.

When the elevator doors opened again, you found yourself in a short, carpet-clad hallway with dark beige walls and warm white lighting, a single heavy-looking brown pivot door looking right at you. Once you pressed on the doorbell, everything suddenly felt so real that you got nervous. The door opened with a muffled clank, and you immediately questioned the reality you were experiencing because hot—fucking—damn!

“Hey, beautiful.”

Not that he wasn’t already criminally attractive on a weekday, but Chris looked ultra fine that night. Skin-tight pants, jet black blazer, and of course the silver chains. Good god, the chains. Not the chains…

You knew this exact fit from some dark bedroom with velvet walls.

He took a small vial from his pocket that harbored some ambery liquid in it, then sucked some into the dropper in the cap.

“Entry ticket. Stick your tongue out for me.”

Three drops fell on your tongue. Thick density, savory, quickly spread on your palate but didn’t necessarily invade the tastebuds. 

“Syrupy,” you observed after swallowing, “I really like the taste. What’s in this?”

“You’re a trained chef. Can’t you tell?” 

“I meant besides the obvious honey,” you deadpanned.

“What else?”

You swiped your tongue on your palate, then exhaled with your mouth closed to run the flavor in your mouth again.

“I’m inclined to say… saffron?”

“Good job,” a smirk stained his lips, “Five points to Slytherin.”

You stuck your tongue out again to get your well-deserved reward, but the two drops of liquid gold were followed by a 24K kiss from Chris. Wetter and a lot hungrier than usual as if it was possible. It caught you off guard, but you had absolutely no complaints.

“What was that for?”

“A little pre-game treat for me,” he held the tip of your chin, “You look ravishing tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you have any of this before my arrival by any chance?” you pointed at the glowing vial in his hand.

“Maybe,” he confessed then led you inside by gently pushing on your waist, “But then again you get me so fucking horny on the regular that I can’t really tell the difference.”

Your eyes were scanning every piece of detail they could perceive as you walked behind him. Chris’ place felt like a breath of fresh air. Spacious, for sure, but also unexpectedly cozy with the warm lights cast on different shades of beiges and browns and khaki greens contrasted by dark anthracites of his kitchen which even had a 50-bottle wine cellar next to his gigantic fridge. Modern architecture with moderner furniture, simplistic but tasteful decorations all around, and a magnificent view of the city sprawled right under your feet flaunted through the large curtainless windows.

Then you took one step into the living room area, and it kicked in.

You felt like you were being enveloped by something warm. The colors became even warmer and more vivid. For some reason, you felt like you were glowing and you felt fucking amazing.

“Damn, why didn’t you tell me there was a dress code for tonight?” you asked Chris while looking at the man sprawled on the couch.

Equally sharply dressed, equally cocky posture, sporting his long, wavy hair with several stray locks falling in front of his eyes. It was the first time you were seeing him like this rather than his usual clean-cut look at work.

Minho looked nothing short of a charming player.

“The princess of the night finally arrives!” he raised the scotch glass in his hand, “Happy birthday, your grace.”

“Princess?” Chris scoffed a bit too empathetically, “She’s a fucking demon.”

“Be nice, it’s my birthday,” you settled down on the empty seat to Minho’s left and reached for the drink Chris poured for you, “but yeah I kinda am.”

“Have you decided on your course for tonight?” Chris asked from the armchair he threw himself on, diagonal to you.

“I think I’m in the mood to have two guys worship me.”

“By all means. It’s time we got a baptism from some goddess anyway.”

“Baptism with cum and spit,” you retorted and took a sip from the icy amber liquid, “That’s new.”

“I’d be careful with the liberal use of the word cum,” Minho warned you and pointed at Chris with a nod, “His fangs come out whenever it’s mentioned.”

“I see. So we’re doing exposés on each other,” Chris raised his brows and crossed his legs, “This dude right here likes it too much when he hears praise. Give it a go.”

You turned to your left and scanned Minho from head to toe. He looked unfazed, but you could see how his shoulders were tensed up.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” you fixated your eyes on his chest, then looked right into his eyes, “You work out?”

“I do.”

“I love thick thighs in a man,” you caressed his inner thigh, and in return, he not so discreetly throbbed in his pants.

“And I love women who love thick thighs,” he brazenly ogled your breasts.

“Men lose it when you ride their thighs,” you dragged your hand down his leg, “And I like it when they get weak for me.”

“You know when they also lose it?” he sat up in his place and wet his lips with a single drag of his tongue, “When you have a sloppy as fuck make out session with their balls.”

“Duly noted.”

Interesting. Kissing was a simple act, but it was like a fingerprint for how differently each person executed it. When Chris kissed you, you felt your soul being set on fire. It was loaded with lethal amounts of passion and lust, and it made you wanna stop living for yourself and start living to please him instead.

Minho was much calmer. He kissed deep, somewhat slow, not touching anywhere else on your body other than your face, allowing just a kiss to do its job to seduce the fuck out of you. His lips were so full in your mouth, immediately making you wonder what they would feel like on more secluded parts of you. You liked the muted hums he let out as he swirled his tongue around yours, and they increased in volume by just a tinge when you palmed his bulge straining his pants.

“So?” Chris asked, trying not to make it too obvious how turned on he was by the sight, “Which kiss did you enjoy more?”

“Am I allowed to say it’s him?” you looked at him with hooded eyes.

“You are, but what you’re not allowed to do is lie,” he pointed at you, “And that is one.”

“Take the L like a champ, man. Don’t be a sore loser,” Minho quipped, very content with the answer you delivered.

You didn’t take your eyes off Chris as your smirk got wider, and he reciprocated, but you had learned to render the shades of anger that occasionally flashed in his eyes.

Oh, this was gonna be so much fun, wasn’t it?

“You talked a big game about how she tastes,” Minho caressed your back, “I wanna see it for myself.”

“You should. It’s pretty damn delicious,” Chris got up to his feet to lead you both to an even more restricted area, “but don’t make a habit of it if you want to live.”

His possessiveness was internally making you scream your lungs out. Oh, he knew. He knew what he was doing to you. He knew one good kiss was not enough to swipe you off your feet and he loved shoving that right in front of Minho’s face.

It was weirdly wholesome actually. Dare you said even a fucked up love language. 

If you walked into this bedroom without knowing who it belonged to, you would still be able to pick it out as Chris’. A massive bed dressed in black satin sheets overlooking the flickering lights coming from the pier, a huge framed picture of a full moon right above the headboard, dark grays and off-whites all around but by no means bleak. Ironically enough, this room somehow exuded the peacefulness of a safe haven.

“Any accessories you want?” Chris turned on the lights and dimmed them to a sultry lumen, “Blindfolds, cuffs, toys?”

“No, just you,” you responded as you stood by the edge of his bed, “and all the lube you have.”

You. As in second person plural. Chris knew that of course, but he didn’t give a fuck. You did say just you. Nothing else.

He had to take a deep breath to fucking stop himself from jumping you.

He took a couple of steps towards you and brushed his fingers on your collarbones first, then peeled your top off. As he took your lips between his, you unbuttoned his blazer and cascaded it down his shoulders to put his perfect figure on display. Then you felt Minho right behind you unclasping your bra and exposing your chest fully.

“Oh, they feel so full,” Chris noted while fondling your breasts, “Are you ovulating? Are we finally gonna breed you today?”

You hated how he knew what to say to get you to throb that hard.

“Take off her clothes,” he commanded Minho while unbuttoning his pants, “Then get between her legs.”

As Chris was getting rid of his own clothes, you let Minho strip you bare, then threw yourself right in the middle of Chris’ insanely comfortable bed. After getting fully naked, Minho crawled between your legs and kissed your thighs, awaiting his directions from Chris who was cuddling you on your right. The familiar vial made another appearance, and the drops of the golden-colored liquid felt cold on your pussy. Satisfied with how it dissolved into your own slick, Chris firmly demanded.

“Eat.”

Minho’s mouth on your cunt was pure heaven. Your eyes immediately closed when he licked a long stripe, and it was the perfect pairing to Chris kissing all over your neck. 

“I like it wet,” you didn’t wait long before telling Minho exactly what you wanted from him, “Lick all over me.”

While Minho was busy pleasuring you just the way you liked, Chris kept paying attention to your upper body, touching you, kissing you, licking the salt off your skin and replacing it with his own. The wetness you felt all over you amplified threefold courtesy of some saffron extract, and even just looking at these stunning men working you was enough for you to have a violent visceral reaction.

“God, yes, just like that. Now suck on my clit,” you directed Minho further.

You tugged on Chris’ locks to make him look at you and pulled him in for a kiss he so desperately was waiting for. You were trying to make a point with how deep you were kissing him, but you weren’t exactly sure if it was reaching him at all.

“Your pussy eating skills are as fantastic as your thighs after all,” you turned your attention to Minho again, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Hearing you praise his performance like that, he got even more eager, burying his face deeper into your cunt.

“If Chris lets you come play, come sit on my bar sometime,” Minho licked his lips and spread your pussy lips further apart, “You taste fucking incredible.”

“Well, she can’t. She has prior engagements,” Chris answered on your behalf, “Don’t you, baby girl?”

You involuntarily laughed, and Chris kissed your smile away, getting your lips raw from how much he was coating them in lust.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re a goddess. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, “Can I make it feel even better for you? Do I have permission?”

You nodded eagerly, not knowing what to expect in the slightest. The warmth on your right side was gone. When you opened your eyes, you saw Chris crawling between your legs right next to Minho, and it made you shiver.

“You take her clit,” he casually instructed, “I have an unhealthy attachment to her cum.”

You watched them take their positions, and even though you were about to implode from this sight alone, you managed to stitch some words together.

“Lick it spotless.”

“Paradoxical,” Chris uttered with an unamused expression, “You need to stop dripping first.”

You could feel everything. 

A pair of tongues gliding on you. So wet. So fucking obscenely wet. Minho’s tongue was on your clit, teasing it with the very tip whereas Chris was licking into your oozing hole, gently prodding your entrance with his flattened tongue and fucking into it every once in a while. Getting showered with slippery attention by two insanely gorgeous men ready to cater to your every whim made you feel like a queen, and you were about to have the most egocentric orgasm of your life.

“Chris,” you convulsed under their intense ministrations, “Come– Come up.”

He was surprised to be the one you called out to, but he pulled himself up right next to you again.

“Caress me,” you put his hands on your body, “Please.”

Please. He was pretty sure you didn’t know about the weight this particular word carried.

Please. Or maybe you did, and you were doing it on purpose again.

Please. Give him one reason not to worship the floor you walk on.

He ran his hands all over you with his lips glued to yours, kissing you, licking you while Minho was on the fast track to make you snap. When you felt your orgasm threatening to unleash, you grabbed Chris’ face and inhaled his lips, your moans rippling throughout his body. He didn’t let go until your body went limp, soaked in the afterglow languor, not having an ounce of strength to hold onto anything anymore.

“He did good, yeah?” he caressed your face and nodded for confirmation, “Shall we return the favor?”

You hummed a fucked out yes, and he gestured for Minho to get on his knees.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to dive into my girl’s freshly fucked pussy,” Chris broke goosebumps all over your body with the single finger he dragged down your shoulder, “He’s going to fuck you for my viewing pleasure now.”

You momentarily found yourself in his arms, back flushed against his chest, as Minho settled between your legs, awaiting his instructions.

“I want her pussy properly stretched. Soaking wet. Walls throbbing. You’re not going to pull out. Fill her up for me,” he firmly ordered then placed a kiss on your shoulder, “Then I’ll come take what’s mine. Fuck it deeper to make room for myself. We’ll see who makes you feel better.”

As Chris started leaving open mouth kisses on your neck, you watched Minho take position, and you noticed him for the first time. Full girth and mouthwatering curvature, and it reminded you of one of the massagers you owned. There was more than enough slick covering your cunt, but you were still struggling to take him, and judging by the extremely satisfied look on his face, he fucking loved it. It was so obvious that your sounds of mild discomfort were stroking his ego big time, and he didn’t even try to be subtle about it. When he finally managed to sink into you, you felt so full that your eyes rolled all the way back.

“We can do this day and night if you can take it,” he squeezed your legs as he bottomed out, “Let’s ride, princess.”

Minho was off to a great start. His rhythm was like a pulse with sharp thrusts of his hips deep into you. He was after enjoying himself first, relishing this maddening pleasure buried inside you before setting off to look for a spot to make you see white.

“He needs visual stimulants, too, don’t you reckon?” Chris turned your face to him, “Make out with me.”

He wasn’t simply kissing you at this point. It was so loaded with want and hunger that it felt more like a respiratory exchange. Too much sighing, short-lived moans, and wet, wet, just so wet, coating each other with as much bodily fluids as you possibly could. You had a raging suspicion that Chris was after making you regret not openly declaring his kiss as your favorite. 

Minho, on the other hand, was in no rush fucking you. He was just savoring this, savoring the indecently salacious view in front of him, which felt like he got to fuck the star of a hot porn clip he stumbled upon in real time.

“You’re doing great, baby girl. I’m so fucking proud of you,” Chris kissed your shoulder again and cupped your breasts, “Feels good, right?”

All you could produce was incoherent sounds. A simple touch on your body was magnifying to the extent that you could feel it everywhere, so you couldn’t even utter your own name if he asked you right now. You remembered how to nod in between your moans.

“But it should feel great,” he uttered emphatically to Minho, “It should feel so fucking good I need her to cry.”

When his name was uttered again, you opened your eyes to take Minho’s sight in. He was a goddamn beast. So damn gorgeous all around and he was fucking you good. How you couldn’t even properly open your eyes was telling enough of what a good job he was doing.

“Swollen as fuck,” he swiped his thumb on your clit, and looked right at Chris with a sly smile, “I have a great idea. You know what it is.”

“Should I lick it when he’s fucking you?” Chris asked in your ear with a soothing voice, and you almost combusted to his words alone.

“YES!”

“Tsk, rude, baby girl. What do we say when we really want something?”

Say it again, he was repeating inside, Again. Beg. Beg for me.

“Please, Chris—topher,” you adjusted the end of your address properly, and the fact that you remembered flew him over the moon.

Chris didn’t rush to leave your side. He started his ministrations by softly caressing your clit like he was petting you as Minho kept a steady, endurable pace. 

“Look at me when he fucks you,” he demanded, getting his fingers properly wet in your mouth, “Eyes on me.”

Give me attention. I want to be the only thing you lust after. Want me. Want me. Want me. Give me special privileges in front of him. Show him I matter more to you because you want to please me.

He started drawing circles on your cunt with his now slippery fingers without any pressure. The idea was to make you melt into him, but the way you jolted when he touched you ignited something wild in him.

“Did you know your body screams my name?” he whispered into your ear in a volume only you could hear, “You’re getting fucked this hard, but you’re still shuddering when I touch you.”

He stopped his strokes and gestured Minho to stop and take a breather while sliding away from under you and laying you down on your back. Then he lowered his face on your pussy as Minho took position again.

He timed himself so that his first lick would align perfectly with Minho’s first push. The pleasure running laps throughout your entire bloodstream was so concentrated that you couldn’t dare open your eyes. But it wasn’t just about how intense the feeling was.

It was the fact that this had turned into a race of who could get you there faster, and you were dissolving in the amount of attention they were subjecting you to.

“Overwhelmed?” Chris chuckled teasingly after a while, “Feels too good?”

Their movements gradually came to a halt to give you some rest since you actually looked like you could pass out. Minho made creative use of the lube on the nightstand to rub the soreness away from your legs while Chris climbed up to your right side and started stroking your hair, showering you with kisses on your forehead, your temple, and face to soothe you to the best of his ability.

If you didn’t know any better, you would be inclined to say he was almost making love to you.

“We just get each other, don’t we? We understand each other better than anyone else,” Chris softly spoke when your breathing returned to normal, then nodded at Minho to carry on, “I know you’re dying to take both of us right now. You can say it. Min’s not one to judge.”

Minho was probably expecting you to get embarrassed or something. When your eyes met his, you bit into your bottom lip so hard and you unwittingly snickered at each other.

“The question is can your tight cunt really take it? You can barely take me as it is,” he dragged his fingers from your chest down to your abdomen and fixated his gaze on Minho with an absolutely sinister smile, “And he’s quite endowed himself, right?”

Minho twitched so hard inside you that it was impossible not to notice. You took one look at Chris and you could feel your brainwaves syncing to concoct a quick little plan to gang up on Minho.

“He’s a fucking beast. Just look at this gorgeous body,” you put your hands on his waist and slid them down, “And his thighs, god, they’re so fucking juicy I wanna take a bite.”

“So you like his performance,” he threw his arm over your shoulder, “Why don’t you give him a review?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Minho warned Chris through his teeth, “Stop it.”

Neither of you was intimidated by his pseudo-threat. Not one bit. You leaned into Chris more and started praising the shit out of Minho with a shit eating grin on your face.

“Ravages pussy like he should, A+ tongue game, god tier stamina, and fucks like an unhinged maniac.”

“Stop it.”

“You’re insanely sexy, Minho. You’re so my type, I fucking love it.” 

“I said stop it.”

“Makes me wanna take you up my ass right fucking now.”

“OH, FUCK YOU!!!”

Heck, you enjoyed hearing praise during sex yourself. It was a great mood setter when used correctly, but that was about it for you. Witnessing someone so weak for compliments to the extent that they would cum this violently was a first and boundlessly entertaining to watch. Once Minho managed to come back to his senses, he reverted back to his no fucks given attitude and made himself comfortable on your left, trading places with Chris. You were a little sore, but Chris had been waiting long enough for his turn. He drenched you in lube and slid right in to pick up where Minho left off.

He felt electrified all of a sudden.

“Damn, your load is a bit heavy, huh Min?”

“Demon princess here got me a little worked up,” Minho chuckled, still wiping sweat off his forehead, “I have no fucking idea how you can stop yourself from cumming every five seconds with her around.”

“Who says I can?”

Chris could actually feel Minho’s cum inside you. Volume so dense that it felt like he was dipping himself in an entire bottle of lubricant. It was turning him on way too much that he couldn’t even control how loudly he was groaning. Only a couple of pumps in, he put his initial plan on hold and pulled out of you.

“Look how much you made him cum,” he showed you the thick white liquid glazing his cock and dripping off his tip, “I wanna watch you suck him off of me.”

The sight topped the chart of the dirtiest yet most erotic things you’d ever seen, easy, and it was making you salivate. You promptly got on fours before him once he laid down, not even caring about teasing him like you usually would. You straight up choked on him.

“God fucking damn, taking me that deep without being asked. Just how fucking fantastic are you?”

As you were devouring Chris, you felt some movement behind you, and shortly after Minho’s face was between your legs again, about to taste you from scratch one more time.

“Her clit only,” Chris urged in panic, “The cum stays in.”

Then Minho began munching on your tingling clit. He was pushing you down on his face from your hips, and there was no way for you to escape his death grip. You were writhing in how unendurable the overstimulation quickly became, but your whimpering on Chris’ cock was sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body.

“Look at what he’s doing to himself while eating your creampied pussy,” he broke into a delirious smile, “Ride his face for me. Make him suck on your clit harder.”

When you looked back, you witnessed Minho lazily stroking his cock with one hand, making happy little sounds into your pussy in the meantime as if he was tasting the rarest delicacy that ever existed. Thinking about how you were still filled with Minho’s cum and watching you blow him like your life depended on it riled Chris up too much too fast. There was no way he could hold back any longer.

“Yes. Fucking yes, milk it out of me. God, I’m gonna soak you in cum,” he swiftly sat up straight and started pumping himself frantically, “Stick your tongue out.”

Chris was already feeling like he was being edged for the longest time, watching Minho fuck you into his own bed and devouring your pussy. The second his eyes landed on your tongue, strings of his warm seed spurted all over your face and glazed your skin deliciously.

“Clean her face,” he instructed Minho while descending between your legs just to eat your creampied pussy for his own pleasure, “Spotless.”

Without having him say it twice, Minho laid down beside you and prompted you to close your eyes by brushing his fingers on your eyelids. Deprived of your sight, you felt the pair of wet muscles gliding on you even more profoundly, one on your folds and the other on your face ridding you of any trace of cum. You didn’t know what exactly took over you when Minho licked a clean stripe on your cheek, but you grabbed his hands to steal his attention.

“Let’s share.”

It wasn’t a request per se; you just informed him that you were going to do it. 

And when Chris caught a glimpse of what you were doing, he felt like his entire body got shocked.

You asked Minho to share his taste with you. Strike one. You were sucking on the coat of cum on Minho’s tongue so hungrily like you were starved for days. Strike two.

Then you swiped your fingers on your cheekbone to collect some of his cum and dared to start rubbing your clit with it as your personal lubricant.

Chris fucking lost it. 

It was most likely a byproduct of liquid gold, but he still couldn’t believe how fast he recuperated to get fully hard again. He started following the rhythm you liked so much before he took what he needed from you.

Up. Down. Up. Suck. A little more. Now swirl. Swirl. Swirl!

You moaned loudly into Minho’s mouth, properly dizzy and most likely out of any more orgasms to have by then. He soothed you with kisses on your face as you rode out your high on Chris’ mouth.

“You know what would make you taste even sweeter?” he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, “Double frosting.”

Through your almost blurry vision, you saw Chris getting on his knees and aligning himself with your throbbing entrance, too conveniently slippery for him to slide right in.

“Open up.”

He dragged your bottom lip down to prompt you to open your mouth, and then you felt a trail of saliva landing on your tongue. Out of everything Chris did the entire night, oddly enough, this one felt like his most possessive move.

“Jerk him off for me. Let’s get your tits creamed, too,” he declared his final request of the night, then addressed Minho, “And you know what you need to do.”

Minho positioned himself so he could lick your clit while allowing you to stroke him comfortably. Chris’ eyes on you were a bit intense as if he was trying to tell you something, but you weren’t in possession of any reasoning anymore to decode what it was. You just focused on his breathing instead. How it escalated as his pace got faster. How he got two steps closer to his final destination. How he had your entire soul in a chokehold at that moment even though there was another man with you in this bed.

Minho interrupted your long-running existential crisis when he suddenly stopped and fucked himself into his hand until he covered your chest with a much smaller volume of cum this time. You were unbearably sore at that point so you stopped him when he attempted to go down again. He hopped off the bed as soon as he collected himself and gathered his clothes.

“You kids carry on. This night never happened,” he pressed his index finger on his lips and winked, then disappeared into the hallway. Mere moments later, you heard the sound of water running. 

You felt so vulnerable under Chris all of a sudden.

“I don’t– I don’t have to finish if y—”

“I’m fine. This is always my favorite part,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “What’s the point if you’re not breeding me in the finale?”

A tired smile appeared on his lips, and he put his hand under your waist to support your body better. The front door opened and closed in the distance, indicative of Minho’s departure, and for some reason, once he left the premises for good, Chris started running to the finish line as fast as he could, unable to look away from your eyes.

I do. I do worship you. You’re all I ever wanted.

There were so many things he wanted to say, but it was neither the right place nor the right time, not even the right point in the timeline of his life. 

“Chris…”

As if you didn’t do anything to each other the entire night, the second he heard you call his name, his entire body convulsed over you. You let him rest his head on your shoulder for some time as a pleasant sense of fatigue slowly started to envelop you. The acts committed throughout the night were highly questionable, but you felt satisfied.

You felt happy.

“Rest now,” he pulled the sheets to cover you from the shoulder down, “I’ll go take a shower first.”

“Can you wake me up if I fall asleep?”

“Mhm.”

When Chris came back to his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, you were indeed sleeping. He sat down beside you and watched the way your chest softly rose and fell for a while. He was feeling a weird sense of tightening in his ribcage when he realized he actually didn’t want to wake you up. Could he fake that he tried but you didn’t wake up if you asked him? Could he—?

“Oh, you’re back,” you opened your eyes, sleep still dripping from them.

“I was– I was about to—”

“Mm, you smell good,” you smiled while inhaling the pleasant scent of his shower gel, “I’ll go take a shower. I sacrificed myself to two sex gods tonight.”

Chris involuntarily burst out laughing as you got up to your feet.

“I put out towels for you in the bathroom.”

“Thank you,” you ruffled his damp hair.

You gathered your clothes and walked to the bathroom naked. When you emerged again, you were fully dressed as though you had never seen each other naked before.

“Thank you for tonight,” you peeked into the living room where Chris was lounging on a couch reading, “I had a great time.”

“It’s late. I’ll give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he closed the cover of the book and grabbed his car keys, “I want to.”

You were both so tired that nobody uttered a word throughout the whole drive, but it felt safe. It felt nice to have Chris with you. As you were looking out the window watching the streetlights pass by, your heart was doing these weird somersaults, and you were feeling this intense urge to smile like an idiot for some reason.

“Thank you for agreeing to spend your birthday with me,” Chris softly uttered as he pulled the handbrake, then immediately corrected himself, “I mean… with us.”

“It’s not like I was doing you a favor, you know. I had a blast myself,” you smiled knowingly, “You were too hot to handle tonight.”

You saw something on Chris’ face for the first time. It was a smile alright, but it was almost almost laced with a tinge of shyness.

Your heart skipped multiple beats.

“Good night, Chris,” you stole one last glance from him and exited the car.

He watched you until you walked into your building, then went home to properly crash. Little did he know he wasn’t going to be able to get the rest his entire body was craving.

Chris found himself in an unfamiliar room. Sitting. He wasn’t tied or anything, but he wasn’t able to move. He knew the bed he was facing; it was his own. You were on it on fours. So was Minho.

Fucking you.

“Admit it, you want me more,” Minho was smiling maniacally as he pulled on your hair, “You came so hard with me, your legs were shaking.”

“Don’t say that to his face. He’ll never be able to take it,” you looked dead into Chris’ eyes, “No one’s ever gonna love you, Christopher.”

Chris snapped his eyes open with a gasp, completely covered in sweat. He had no idea what the fuck was up with what he witnessed just now. Were you seeing this in your dream by any chance? He didn’t know.

But what he did know was that he did not like what he saw.

He got up from the couch he passed out on and poured himself a tall glass of cold water to soothe his insides. Something at the back of his head was telling him he was neck-deep in trouble, and it was too late to nip it in the bud.

There was nothing he could do anymore besides helplessly waiting for the cancer to spread until it killed him.

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

Been thinking about Minho's thighs lately, how firm it feels when flexed, but at the same time, soft and squishy when it's relaxed.

Been thinking about how sensitive he probably feels down there, how he loves it when you take your precious time alternating between nipping at the skin and giving it a kiss. His thighs just look so irresitable, you end up sucking hickies all over it, watching the pretty bruises bloom. By the time you reached his inner thighs, your tongue darting out to taste him which does nothing but send sparks of pleasure down his spine, his cock is already so hard and leaking, just aching to be touched.

"Please..." he'd beg, and you watch as how he hopelessly cants his hips against the air, his swollen cock slapping against the tense muscles of his abdomen. "But I'm not done with you yet, Min," you simply reply, admiring your handiwork as your hands trace the purples and reds all over his thighs. But poor Minho was already so desparate to cum, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Y/n, please, stop teasing."

"Fine," you give in, giving his flesh a gentle squeeze. "But only because you asked so nicely."

Nerdy changbin(changbin with those glasses yk what i mean). Changbin just begging for you to let him dominate you, “just for this one time, please?” Hes pussy drunk now. Repeatedly slamming his cock inside of you. Giving you no time to think. His harsh thrust drives you insane. “F..fuck baby” he said while having his warm hands around your waist. Hes so loud that the whole dorm hall can hear him. Hes moaning and whimpers, asking for you permission to let him cum. Once you finally gave him permission, he hasn’t stopped since then. Watching your belly get full of his cum makes him wanna breed your swollen cunt. The room is so hot and heavy that his glasses are getting foggy. Hes so obsessed with you that he can never get enough.

he follows you around , begging you. "baby , please , just this once." he pleads , you finally agree and he waste no energy , picking you up , taking you to his room.

he's rough , basically manhandling your poor body , putting you into different positions , fucking into you. "fu..fucking hell baby , look at that ass go." he holds your waist , abusing your cunt , grabbing your hands , holding it behind your back , you scream at the new angle he was hitting. "ch..changbin fuck!"

he his loud , grunting and moaning , you're both sure you'll be getting a noise compliant , but the way he's making you feel , you both don't give a fuck , the way you're making each other feel.

"you...you're so big." you moan , your brain fuzzy. "your pussy is taking me so well , squeezing my cock -fuck- im gonna cum , please can i cum inside you." he's begging you to let him breed you.

once he cums inside , it's like his mind goes dumb , instead of pulling out , he fucks his cum back in you , filling you up a few more times , small bulge in your stomach. "to..too much, i can't take any more." he's panting , his glasses all fogged up , as he's emptying another load into your abused pussy.

"just another one baby , just another load , i want to see it leaking out of you."

황현진 BOYFRIEND HYUNJIN WHO...

bf! hyunjin who likes to squish your face and take pictures of you, so he can blackmail you by threatening to send them to everyone unless you give him a kiss.

bf! hyunjin who spams your instagram comment section whenever you post. "woah do you have a bf?" "all mine 😘"

bf! hyunjin who likes to copy your outfits and act like they're all his ideas

bf! hyunjin who makes spotify playlists to romanticize every moment he spends with you, whether its a road trip compilation or a midnight baking mix

bf! hyunjin who likes to send you red roses when he's far from home and adds fancy little handwritten notes for you to find

bf! hyunjin who brags about you to his friends and feels more proud than jealous when other boys admire you.

bf! hyunjin who changes your lock screen to a selfie of him when you're not looking, so you'll have a constant reminder of him

bf! hyunjin who complains about you stealing his sweatshirts but secretly loves to see you in his clothing

bf! hyunjin who sends you real love letters written on paper, instead of just text messages or emails

bf! hyunjin who pulls you outside so you can slow dance in the pouring rain

bf! hyunjin who likes to sketch you in his notebook whenever you aren't looking; when you're cooking, sleeping, or tapping away on your computer

bf! hyunjin who lets you try out new hairstyles on him and loves to post selfies of him all dolled-up, even if he has sparkly pink bows in his hair

bf! hyunjin who buys your perfume and sprays it on his pillow when you're not with him and he misses you

bf! hyunjin who buys a ring only a few months into dating and hides it in his closet for when he thinks you're ready, because that's just how much he loves you.

lee know is so cat coded like. he LOVES getting his tummy rubbed and his hair pet and just flops on you to sleep whenever he feels like it. will definitely try to sneak under the covers and cuddle after a fight because he really can't sleep without you 😣 and if you dont give him attention because youre busy or something he'll start whining about how he's going to die without cuddles

💭just cuddle me already

pairing: bf!minho x gn!reader

an: omg anon you're so right like ??? he tries to keep this cold façade but deep inside he's a little cutie who would die without his daily cuddles >< i decided to turn the fight part into a short drabble so enjoy ‹3

around midnight you heard the door to your bedroom open. at first, you didn't dare to turn around and look at minho, pretending to be asleep. but when you realised he was trying to sneak under the covers you sat up and raised an eyebrow at him. "what do you think you're doing?" you hissed and minho pouted. "ynnn… c'mon, let me sleep here, i'm going to die if i'll have to sleep alone," he whined. though your fight was rather stupid, you were still mad at him. you wanted to sleep this through and just talk with minho in the morning, but it seemed as if he had different plans. "no, i told you i wanna be alone," you responded, laying down again and covering yourself tightly with the blanket, trying to cut the conversation. but minho didn't stop, he laid down and placed his arm around your waist. you gently slapped his hand and attempted to remove it from your body. "go away, i'm still mad at you," you mumbled, trying to wiggle out of his embrace, but minho just tightened his grip. "there's no way out, yn. just cuddle me already," he hummed. you started to feel defenseless and eventually gave in. "okay, come here," you sighed and turned around to face him. you noticed a huge smirk on his face and rolled your eyes at the sight. minho didn't waste any time and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, sighing in content. you started running your fingers through his hair and you swore you could hear minho purr like a little kitten. even though the anger hadn't left you yet, you placed a gentle kiss on minho's temple and went to sleep with a soft smile on your face.

taglist: @rosieposieshifts @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist🩷

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

─ .✦ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐅𝐅!𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 📲

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: bff!jisung x reader

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: humor/crack

𝙎𝙎: 12

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: some curse words, mentioning of losing a grandparent, jisung has a lot of air in his head and is not using his brain 99% of the time

𝘼/𝙉: I got this idea because my bf sends me the most random shit he sees sometimes. So this is inspired by him and random dumb texts I found on pinterest.

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

─ .✦ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 ― 𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 📲

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: idol!hyunjin x reader

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, hurt/no comfort

𝙎𝙎: 5

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: hurt/no comfort, no happy ending, Hyunjin is being mean but reader is standing up for themselves

⤷ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

Safe Slumber

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Request: no

Character: Chan

Word Count: 1.2k

"You wanna watch a movie?" Chan wraps his arms around his best friend, resting his chin against her shoulder. He playfully shakes her body and she laughs as she drops a tea bag into one of his sister's comical looking mugs.

Y/N hums in thought. "Sure … I'd love to watch a movie. Are you sure you want to watch one though?"

Chan frowns as he squints at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Y/N pours boiling water into her mug before turning around, leaving it to steep. She crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking up at her friend with a knowing smile. "I'm pretty sure every time we watch a movie you fall asleep before the middle."

Chan flushes red, embarrassed. "I do not."

"Yeah you do," Y/N giggles. "It happens every time."

Adamant, Chan copies her stance and crosses his own muscular arms over his chest. "Name one movie."

"The Little Mermaid," Y/N recalls the last movie they watched together, just last week.

Chan rubs the nape of his neck. He's reluctant to confirm that he really doesn't remember seeing the ending.

"That's the only time," Chan groans.

"The Notebook."

"The only two times."

"Iron Man."

" … The only three times?"

"Deadpool."

"I. Did. Not."

"Inception. Creed. Fuck, even High School Musical," Y/N throws her hands up in exasperation as she names a plethora of movies she's tried to watch with him.

Every single one of them ended in the same way. Chan cuddled up to her, his arms thrown around her waist and his snores vibrating against her chest.

Y/N resists the urge to smile at the memories. She doesn't want to admit to herself that she actually enjoys the way he falls asleep on her more than anything … something about the way her energetic, flirty best friend looking so innocent and vulnerable while sleeping makes her heart melt.

"Okay fine," Chan sighs in defeat, his cheeks permanently stained red with a sudden shyness overcoming him. "Let's watch a movie and this time … this time, I won't fall asleep."

Y/N looks incredulous as she pours milk into her tea. She cups her fingers around the mug and turns to look at him again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Chan looks so determined that Y/N can't help but burst into laughter.

"Do you want some tea?" Y/N asks him. "Maybe the caffeine will keep you awake."

In a huff, Chan storms off towards the sofa, grumbling under his breath as he goes. "I don't need caffeine. I can stay awake without it just fine."

Y/N smiles secretly as she takes a sip of her tea. She already knows he's going to fall asleep … she's ninety nine point nine percent certain.

"Well, if you say so," Y/N walks up to the sofa and slides into the seat beside him. She raises her elbows, letting Chan tuck the heavy blanket around them both before she drops her arms again. She rests them on top of the blanket as her hands cradle her tea. "You know, it amazes me that you can fall asleep while watching a movie but it takes you four business days to fall asleep at night."

"You be quiet," Chan rolls his eyes. As always, her words slap a clown sticker over his face. "That's not my fault. It's my body's fault."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't your body a part of you?" Y/N smirks around her mug as Chan glares at her.

"You know what," Chan snorts and reaches for the remote. "Shut up."

Giggling, Y/N leans back into the sofa and curls her legs up underneath her as Chan plays the movie. He tosses the remote to the side and barely five minutes later, his head is a soft weight against Y/N's shoulder.

Peering down at him, Y/N bites her lip as a warm smile spreads across her face. "You asleep?"

Chan's body shakes against hers as he chuckles quietly. "No."

"Shocking," Y/N grins.

They fall into a soft silence as the movie begins to progress … but barely ten minutes later, Chan moves his head as he looks up at his friend.

"Y/N?"

"You're still awake?"

Chan sighs, shutting his eyes as she shakes his head. "Does it annoy you?"

Y/N frowns. "Does what annoy me?"

"Me. Falling asleep," Chan hums.

Y/N blinks. She looks down at him and is barely surprised when she catches him suppressing a yawn, his face contorting under the glow of the TV screen.

"It doesn't," Y/N says softly. She gently pushes him up into a sitting position and he protests lightly as she reaches over to place her empty mug on the coffee table. Then she leans back again, and she notices Chan trying to restrain himself from leaning on her again. "Why?"

Chan shrugs, looking down. He yawns again, and this time he covers his mouth with his hand, the extremity of the yawn making his eyes water. "I really can't help it, you know."

Y/N looks at him in question.

"Falling asleep. It's like … " Chan's soft voice trails off as he searches his mind for how to put his feelings into words. "I can't help but feel sleepy whenever I'm around you. You make me feel safe."

He murmurs the last words so quietly that Y/N is unsure if she heard him correctly; but she knows deep down she has, and her heart erratically pounds in her chest at those five words.

She doesn't say anything. Instead, she reaches out and gently places her palm on the side of Chan's head; she coaxes him back down to her. When his head is resting on her shoulder, she slides her arm around his warm body and the man automatically melts into her arms.

He wraps his arms around her waist as he settles his head into the crook of her neck. His breath tickles her skin and his lashes kiss her throat, but Y/N doesn't mind - she adjusts the weighted blanket around his shoulders as he adjusts his limbs.

"I'm sorry," Chan mumbles against her neck, his eyes still shut. "One day we'll finish a movie together."

His words have already begun to slur with sleep and Y/N's heart seems to be throwing a party inside of her; she wonders if he can hear the ruckus it's causing.

Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and gently caresses the back of his head as she looks at the TV. She really hasn't got it in her to feel annoyed about him sleeping through the movie again - not when he just said she makes him feel safe. And especially not when he looks like the most adorable person she's ever seen, his frizzy curls over his brows and his plump lips already pursed up into a child-like pout.

She blushes.

"It's okay," Y/N whispers. "I don't mind. Go to sleep."

Chan hums against her; his mind has begun to feel hazy and calm, the way it always does when he's around her. His body seems to go limp as Y/N's heat surges through him in comforting waves and he resists the urge to start attacking her with kisses the way he always wants to.

Instead, he tightens his arms around her waist and makes do by inhaling in her cosy scent. The last thing he remembers is her fingers rubbing soft circles on his back, and the soft thud thud thud of her heartbeat singing him to sleep.

---

Tag list ~ @koos-euphoria @es-kay-zee @raethethey @hugs4chan @hotmesshapa @manonblackbeak-trash @hendsernoodle @stanskzseungmin @loving-unicorns106 @ateez-babygirl @dalamjisung @dinosdawn @cookiemonstermusic258 @strwbrryfroyo @gazelle-des-pres @qtieskz @stigmvta @necromancersupreme @sulfurcosmos @super-btstrash-posts @changlix-mp4 @exonations @fluffybitch0325 @jeyelleohe @rae-blogging @planetdemon @dani41 @jumbocircus @octalalica @velvetand-roses @foivetimesacharm @anaaam @waverzzzzzzzz @peachy-flxwr @lady-hunkyhair @justamessofablog @elizabeth11moreno @lenfilms @xhazmania @starshine-moon @justoutfromdead @snow-pegasus @lixiesbabyhands @chansbabydoll @serphinsquans @bbychannie97 (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

Hyunjin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut🩷

Small note, hyunjin is really just- coming for me lately. So I needed this more than I knew lol

-🩵

•The hopeless romantic.

•He’s thinking of the best. Date ideas.

•They’re so thought out, so unique and cute-

•Takes you two to the beach for a beautiful picnic.

•Movie nights laying on your bed with a projected on the ceiling so y’all can cuddle.

•Plans cute painting dates.

•Speaking of paintings.

•Has so many doodles, drawings ext that are of you or things that make him think of you.

•Your first date? It’s a painting.

•That one picture he just melts seeing.

•It’s a cute little doodle he keeps in his phone case.

•Loves writings you little notes that you can put in your phone case.

•Loves telling others “that’s my partner”

•Gush’s about you a lot.

•Especially to the members.

•Which he always likes to tease you about them.

•”Ah- y/n why are you talking to innie? I’m right here? Your handsome boyfriend”

•And when you give any of them a hug.

•Mans whining “Right infront of me? How could you. We need to go home and change your clothes of his dirty touch”

•All in good teasing, makes you laugh, makes the members laugh.

•Sits and judges people with you.

•Like you don’t like someone?

•He’s picking up the same vibes but it’s plastered on his face.

•Random dance battles.

•Ending in you both on the floor laughing at each other.

•He’ll do the little “ew” thing to you when you ask for a kiss cause you pout and he just loves that.

•”Ew we can’t kiss! I have a partner”

•Likes to take you traveling with him especially to fashion shows.

•You’re always his plus one for anything.

•Tells you all the time “you should model you’re stunning”

•Ugh and this mans complimenting you so much.

•”My partner is just amazing, they look so pretty, they’re so stunning”

•Tries to learn about stuff you like so you both can do it.

•You like Knitting? He’s learning it.

•You like to play a certain game? He’s trying it out too.

•He gets the big sad when he’s away.

•Literally thinks he’s gonna die.

•Calls you from his room saying “I can’t go on my babies not here with me, it’s been 6 years”

•Dramatic man.

•Sends you so many dumb (cute) little videos.

•Also sends you so many pictures.

•So. Many. Pictures.

•Also listen- yall getting matching jewelry.

•Because he’ll be on tour and see these cute bracelets and need to get them for the both of you.

•He’s a really good gift giver too.

•Not that you want him too, and no matter how much you protest.

•He finds the most you gift. Like it’s scary.

•Overall this man is such a hopeless romantic.

•Be ready to be treated like a god.

•Cause honestly that’s how he views you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•He’s just as romantic in the bedroom.

•Does the whole rose peddles to the bed.

•Candles, good music ext.

•His favorite way of fucking you is anyway he can see your face.

•He just wants to be able to kiss you.

•Hands frantically touching your body.

•Also think he’s very vocal. Not so much talking.

•More of he has his head in your neck moaning and groaning.

•Is definitely leaving marks on you. Thinks they’re pretty.

•Im a firm believer that he loves when you ride him facing him.

•He can hold onto tightly, hands running all over you.

•Both of your faces contorting in pleasure.

•Likes when you suck or bite his neck.

•Honestly probably likes when you choke him. Not hard but just enough.

•If he does talk it’s him whimpering about how good you feel or how good you’re doing.

•If you got tittie he sucking them. Feel like he’s a tittie kinda guy.

•Man also really enjoys shower sex.

•It’s just so so intimate.

•And this. This is the most loving kind of sex.

•It’s normally when he is really needy and just wants you.

•The feeling of the warm water while he fucks you makes him cum so fast.

•He just loves loves it.

•Aftercare with him is a lot of loving words.

•Cuddling on the bed as he pushes his hair out of your face.

•Telling you how much he loves you.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

kinktober 2023

billy and i will be participating in kinktober this year with our lovely friend ems aka @cbini !! this is all of our first ever kinktobers and we can’t wait to share it with you :3

day 1: seungmin - olfactophilia - billy

day 2: changbin - stuck in a wall - ems

day 3: 3racha - free use - juno

day 4: felix - crossdressing - billy

day 5: jeongin - glory hole - ems

day 6: minho - period sex - juno

day 7: chan + jeongin - frottage - billy

day 8: changbin - armpit kink - ems

day 9: seungmin - knifeplay - juno

day 10: hyunjin - thighfucking - billy

day 11: chan + felix - double penetration in 2 holes - ems

day 12: jisung - water sports - juno

days 13-15: break from oneshots! answering your asks in this period

day 16: minho - somnophilia - billy

day 17: chan - edgeplay - ems

day 18: changbin - pegging - juno

day 19: hyunjin - waxplay - billy

days 20-22: break from oneshots! answering your asks in this period

day 23: felix - gags - ems

day 24: seungmin - tentacles - juno

day 25: jisung - small penis humiliation - billy

day 26: minho - boot worship - ems

day 27: hyunjin + jeongin - foot fetish - juno

day 28: minho - breeding - billy

day 29: hyunjin - sweat - ems

day 30: chan - rimming - juno

day 31: surprise collab fic

𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 11.1k

cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment

synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.

a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re intrigued.

Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.

Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.

“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”

“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”

“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.

Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.

It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.

You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.

Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.

“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”

“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”

“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”

Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”

“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”

“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”

“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”

“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”

“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.

His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”

Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.

Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”

You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”

“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”

“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.

“It’s not a crush-”

“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.

“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”

Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.

The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.

A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?

The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.

Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.

The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-

A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.

“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”

“I-I-”

“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”

“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”

“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.

You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?

What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.

“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.

It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.

Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…

In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.

Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-

A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.

Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.

Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”

“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”

He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”

He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”

“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”

“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”

You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”

He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”

You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.

“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”

“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”

“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.

“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”

“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”

“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”

You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”

“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”

“I’m not telling you that-”

“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”

“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”

He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”

“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”

“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”

“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”

“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”

He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”

You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”

“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”

“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Can I know?”

He turns to you. “Know what?”

“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”

He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”

“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”

“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”

You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?

Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”

You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.

First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?

Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.

Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.

Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.

You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.

“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”

He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”

“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”

He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”

He gulps audibly. “Nope.”

“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”

“He, uh- really? Did he?”

“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.

Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

“I knew it.”

He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”

“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”

He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”

You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.

“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”

“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.

“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”

You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.

“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”

“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”

You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.

“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”

He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”

“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”

Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.

You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.

“I- Jisung?!”

“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”

You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-

You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.

When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.

You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”

“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”

He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.

“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“

He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”

“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”

He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.

“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“

You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.

It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.

“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”

“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”

You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”

The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.

He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.

It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”

“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”

“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.

Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.

It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.

You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”

“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“

“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”

“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“

You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.

The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.

“You look fine.”

“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.

His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.

“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”

The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“

“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.

“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”

You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“

“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.

Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.

You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.

“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”

You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”

“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”

“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.

You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.

You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”

Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”

“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”

“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”

He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”

You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”

You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”

Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.

The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.

You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.

“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”

You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.

“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.

His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”

He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.

“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”

It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.

Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.

“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.

He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.

“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“

You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.

“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”

“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.

“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.

His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.

Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.

“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”

He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“

“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”

“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“

He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.

“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“

“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.

“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”

“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”

“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”

“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“

“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”

“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”

He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”

“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“

The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”

“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”

“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“

He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.

“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.

Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.

It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.

“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”

“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”

“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”

You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”

You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.

ear-resistible

pairing: seo changbin x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!!!, bunny hybrid!changbin, human!reader, sleepy weepy snuggy wuggy lovey dovey unprotected morning sex, multiple orgasms (m!rec), consensual somnophilia (see below)

a/n: solely inspired by me finding out that rabbit bucks literally pass out after mating and then wake back up like nothing happened, so. here’s changbin!

the sun is barely peeking through your curtains when you’re roused from your slumber. changbin’s body is graciously sleep-warm and still beside you, aside from the occasional twitch of his lop ear and unconscious smack of his lips. you’re about to let changbin’s slow, steady breathing lull you back into sleep’s embrace when you hear the blankets rustle and his foot thump twice against the mattress. 

you blearily realize that he must be dreaming, and without opening your eyes, you roll over slowly to tuck yourself into his side. his t-shirt rucks up when you plaster yourself to him, so your hand slips around his waist and settles on the warm skin of his belly. 

he doesn’t startle at the movement, almost like his body expects you, but his arm moves to wrap snugly around your shoulders so you’re properly cuddled closely together. 

changbin’s eyes also remain closed when he speaks. 

“y’bo. mmmtime’s it?” his words are sleep mumbled and raspy with unuse. 

all you give him in reply is a grunt, and you can hear him smile. 

the first time you blink your eyes open this morning, you’re met with the plush of changbin’s cheek and a twitching, black lop ear. you can tell he slept hard, indents of the pillow crease decorate the soft skin of his cheek. 

you move to kiss that first. he’s so warm and soft, his presence so steady beside you that you’re hit with the sudden realization that you could cry if you think too hard about it. so instead, you settle for pressing slow, tender kisses to the plush skin of his cheek. changbin hums when he feels your lips against him, and his arm tightens its hold around you as your lips move on to the velvety soft ear closest to you. 

a kiss is pressed there too, several in fact, his fur’s so soft you can’t help but nuzzle your cheek against it when you’re done. 

changbin’s other hand fumbles under the rumpled blankets so he can touch your leg, but he doesn’t stop there. changbin pulls your thigh so that it’s nestled over his lap, and when you wriggle closer to him to get more comfortable, he pats your thigh with a sleepy, goofy giggle. 

he’s hard in his shorts. it’s easy to tell with your leg pulled so purposefully over his lap the way it is. 

“somebunny had a nice dream,” you joke, and changbin gives you that goofy laugh again. your silly rabbit. 

“don’t remember,” he mumbles. his sneaky hand slides from your thigh to your ass so he can pat that too, touchy as ever. you curl into him more so that he has more access to your ass, and he rewards you with an airy moan as your thigh presses down harder on his chubbed up cock. “oh, wait. i r’member now. we were laying just like this, and then you- mm, you took your shirt off and rode me. yeah, binnie did dream that.” 

“oh, did i?” you question, and he raises his eyebrow at you the same time he gives you that dashingly handsome downward smirk. “like this?” 

with your leg already thrown over his hips, it doesn’t take much effort to straddle him fully. you fuss with his t-shirt before bothering with yours, pushing it up to his armpits so you can see the strong, soft plain of his stomach and chest. his nipples are dusky and brown, pebbled tight now that they’re uncovered from the warmth of his shirt. 

changbin gazes up at you with awe sparkling in his eyes as you finally raise your arms to take off your own shirt. he helps you toss it to the side and eagerly runs his hands up and down your hips when your skin is uncovered. 

your own nipples harden without the warm fabric of your t-shirt covering them, and you know the perfect way to warm them up again. changbin’s ears perk up on his head when he notices you leaning down over him and meets your tits with his waiting mouth, lips open and tongue out. 

changbin sucks your pebbled nipple into his mouth, circling the bud with his slick, soft tongue. you cup the back of his head as he works his lips against you. he pulls back slightly and licks a slow stripe from the underside of your breast to the peak of your nipple, and you’re addicted to the way it looks when it catches on his tongue. 

“don’t forget the other one,” you whisper, and changbin is quick to kiss across your chest to lap at your other nipple. since you’re leaning down over him, he’s almost smothered by your breasts, but you know he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

when you’re satisfied, you pull back to sit on your haunches again, cooing at the way changbin pouts when his mouth empties. you have other plans though, plans that involve sitting on his fat cock, and the longer you go without it the more your pussy aches for it. 

changbin watches with bated breath as you slowly scootch yourself down his legs, but he immediately catches on when your fingers tug at the hem of his shorts. changbin helps again, lifting his hips and moving his legs so that you can pull his shorts off completely. his shirt’s still on, but he shucks that over his head and off the edge of the bed too. 

now that he’s completely bare in front of you, he sleepily watches you watch him. changbin’s legs spread on their own accord, and he angles his hips up so that he can present his cock and his soft belly to you. 

“such a good buck,” you coo. changbin keens. his cock gives a valiant kick against his stomach, and he spreads his legs further so you can look your fill. his balls are thick and heavy between his legs. if he spread his legs even wider you might see the way you know his hole is clenching. 

quick work is made of your own panties, and you’re finally resettling yourself in changbin’s lap. 

his tip leaks, aiding in the slide of your cunt against him before you sit up on your knees and guide his cock to where you need him the most. 

“please?” changbin begs. his fingers come to pet at your sides. he doesn’t grip you roughly, just kneads the skin and holds you gently, a constant presence. “please. i love looking at you like this, i love you.” 

you sink down on him slowly and it takes your breath away. it does every time. his cock is so thick, just how you like it. 

your bunny’s lips fall open wide in a silent moan when you sit on him fully, but a noise finally pushes its way out of his throat when you start to ride him in earnest. changbin’s hips thrust up when yours angle down, and it’s bliss, bliss, bliss. 

“you feel perfect,” he says. his eyes roam from your face to your steadily bouncing tits. “your pussy is perfect.” 

a whine bubbles from your lips at the praise, and your hands scramble for purchase on his chest. 

“bin. bin, s-such a strong buck. i love you, o-oh my god,” you stutter. you’re not exactly close yet, but it feels so good you know changbin will get you there. 

“i can’t- can’t hold it. baby, you’re clenching me so tight, oh- it’s, ‘m cumming, yeobo, cummi-” 

changbin’s cock throbs, shooting pearly ropes inside of you, and he falls unconscious before he can finish speaking. 

it scared you at first, even though changbin told you beforehand that it happens nearly every time he orgasms. all of the preparation and explanation in the world still couldn’t have fully prepared you for the experience of your bunny passing out when you made him cum for the first time. you’ve been together long enough now that it’s just part of the process, and it’s unfairly cute. 

he’s only out for a few seconds, waking to the feeling of your hand cupping his cheek. changbin’s ears flick and his coffee-colored eyes blink rapidly before he focuses on your face again, smiling. his cock hasn’t flagged at all. 

“did i snore?” he jokes, and you slap his shoulder. 

“you’re in the best pussy you’ve ever had, you know damn well you didn’t snore!” 

changbin laughs and flips you onto your back, grin widening when you squeal. he settles on his haunches between your spread legs and uses his hand to guide himself back inside before he lowers himself down and blankets you fully. his elbows rest on either side of your head, and he cups your head with his hands to pull you into a kiss, sour breath and all. 

your lips smack in the otherwise quiet of the room, the only other noise is the rustling of the blankets under changbin’s knees and the click of the air conditioning unit. he’s fucking you so slowly, so sensually so he can focus on exploring your warm mouth with his tongue. 

he pulls away with a broken gasp when your hands sneak down to squeeze his ass, and he makes the most precious chirping sound when your fingers touch his sensitive tail. 

“want me to pull it, baby?” you whisper against his open mouth. he nods his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “pretty little cottontail.” 

you do just that, and his hips pick up speed like you knew they would. changbin’s cock ruts into you sharply as you grip his tail harshly by the base, but his rhythm stutters when you unfurl it to tug on the full length. 

“yeobo,” he whines. “my yeobo.” 

changbin’s thick fingers find your clit, and you can feel his dazed eyes on you before you even look at him. he has to double down, focus his efforts into keeping his rhythm and circling your swollen clit with the pads of his fingers. he’s concentrating so hard that his ears have perked up on his head. 

no one has ever cared about your pleasure the way changbin has. despite his rabbit stamina, he’s still focused solely on you and getting you there before he cums again. his fingers touch you with that just right amount of pressure, his cock hits that perfect spot inside of you that makes your toes curl when you drape your legs over the backs of his. 

“‘m gonna cum,” you whimper. “you’re gonna make me cum.” 

your eyebrows furrow and your lip quivers, beautiful agony, and changbin can’t take his eyes off of you. 

he knows you’re there when your breath catches in your throat and your eyes flutter and roll. the most devastating sound leaves your lips. the rhythmic pulsing of your cunt as you cum, paired with one last rough tug on his unfurled tail, gets changbin there as well. his hips nearly vibrate for a moment before he freezes stock still on top of you, immediately going unconscious again and falling limply to the side. 

you roll with him, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders so you can steady him when he hits the pillow. you have two loads of sticky cum leaking out of your pussy and onto your sheets, but all you care about now is massaging changbin’s velvety soft ear until he rouses. it doesn’t take long, it never does, until he blinks his eyes open again and focuses his tender gaze on your face. 

changbin flicks his ear against your fingers to make you giggle, and he smiles a small, toothy grin back when you do. 

“so, was that better than your dream or do we need to try again?” 

he presses a hand to the small of your back and uses it to pull you even closer to him, wrapping your thigh around his waist again just like he did earlier. his cock is still hard. 

“mmm, i think we could use some more practice.”

Aaaaaaaaaakkkkk SOFTIEE SEUNGMINIEEEEEEE Mwah mwah

shy boy? secret kisses?

you’re used to see him being confident when it comes to “romantic” encounters, but all of sudden when you find out about his cute habit, he becomes shy! (fluff warning!)

—

was your roof leaking? what were those little taps you felt going from your temple to your cheek?

“minnie what are you-“ he froze. his big brown puppy-like eyes widened when he heard you, soon stopping what he was doing while your eyes were closed. he quickly turned around, as if you didn’t clearly see he was awake.

“kim seungmin, i know you’re awake,” you said half-yawning and sitting up. one of your hands traveled to his back slowly caressing it as he was still facing the other way, refusing to see you as if he had been doing some witchcraft on you while you were sleeping and he was embarrassed now that you caught him—but of course it wasn’t anything like that.

he groaned, hiding under the blanket currently covering both of you, giving you a dry ‘what’, acting like he had been sleeping too.

you got closer, slowly pulling the blanket off him, his eyes were shut, cheeks red. “wanna explain what were you doing?” you said with a smirk, gently brushing some of the hair that was sticking to his forehead away. he just scoffed.

“pft, i was just.. i’m- you know what, you never saw that, nothing happened. go back to sleep, baby. yay! so happy, now go to sleep” he said muttering the last word and patting your head, but instead of going back to sleep you took his chin in between your thumb and index finger, looking at him directly.

you gasped. “was.. kim seungmin.. kissing y/n’s face???? on their sleep??” he was red red, like a fucking tomato, you bursted out of laughter. “oh my! kim seungmin? no this is not him, who are you? give me my cute boyfriend, who doesn’t want to admit he’s whipped for me, back!”

“you are so annoying”

you cradled his face with both of your hands “yes, very annoying. but you still love me. and love me that much you take the time to kiss my face while i’m sleeping! aw look at you, i didn’t know you were such a softie..” you traced random patterns on his skin as he rolled his eyes and just blushed as much as he could.

“CAN YOU STOP? Y/N IM DONE”

“SEUNGMIN LOVES ME! SEUNGMIN LOVES MEE~!” you cheered while singing.

“i guess…”

“so?”

“so what?”

“AREN’T YOU GONNA ADMIT YOU KISS ME EVERY NIGHT WHEN I CANT SEE YOU AND THAT’S WHY YOU LIKE ME TO FALL ASLEEP FIRST?” his jaw dropped, his hands traveled to his face and covered it in embarrassment

“SO YOU’VE BEEN KNOWING?”

“well um, i suspected it-“

“OH GOD”

“LISTEN! i suspected it. but i finally decided to stay awake and you definitely confirmed my assumptions” you said smiling. your boyfriend in the other hand was dying in the inside. how he could’ve been so dumb?

“this is so humiliating!” he whined before ruffling his hair. you rested your chin on his shoulder while he was still holding his face in between his hands and sighed, waiting for his obvious confession.

“i just- i do it because i don’t know. you look so… peaceful, when you sleep and i can’t help it but to start to kiss every single part of your face and it makes me wanna take care of you even more and keep you forev- y/n i swear if you’re laughing right now…”

“IM NOT!” you pressed your lips together, as an attempt of not letting out the loud ass laugh that was coming but it was too late. he lifted his head.

“YOU SEE? LOOK AT YOU LAUGHING! OH MY GOD”

“IM SORRY OKAY? YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE! BOY IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO EXPLODE!” the room quickly filled with your giggles and a bunch of ‘sorrys’ towards seungmin.

he shook his head, giving up “yea, well that’s how crazy you drive me, y/n” he whispered, looking at you with so much adoration. awww. no. because now you were the one about to scream and go crazy over the man in front of you.

“yes, yes, okay baby now can we go back to ‘sleep’? wait no i actually wanna sleep now” he laughed and nodded, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. once you rested your head on his chest his fingers softly ran through your hair before mumbling a low ‘love you’.

“kim seungmin is a softie~”

“SHUT UP.”

It's soooo FUCKING ADORABLE💓💓💓

Not really like "you" in this story but like you can clearly see the world in this story like just imagining bruhhh

Yeah, Flowers Follow

You have always been committed to your duty at your mom's flower shop since she got hurt carrying bags of dirt over a month ago. It was mostly just you and the flowers, until he barged in one day, slapped 20 bucks on the countertop and with a passive-aggressive tone, asked: "How do I say fuck you in flower?"

because seo changbin + fluff will always have me in a chokehold. And a flower au? fuck yea, bring it on, babe.

inspired by this pin which I'll link here

edit: omg guys you loved this so much I just couldn't resist making a part two, still, this can be read as a stand-alone, although I hope you guy's like this one as much as its 'second part', which I'll link here

Word count: 5k. Binnie isn't mean, ok? He's just emo and tough-looking. And kinda introverted. fluff fluff fluff. swearing. kinda horny towards the end, but no spice added. Lol

You wiped your sweat from your forehead, rolling your sleeves up with a huff as you took back in your hands a big old water can. You watered the lilies and small ivies that remained outside of the flower shop, quickly waddling back inside for more water.

Your mother was usually the one who took care of Lilac, the flower shop. At first, it had been her and your aunties, but it all flew away after your grandma's passing. You had been young, so much that your memories of the time were mostly made of blurry faces that were not present in your life to this day. Your mom had been okay taking care of the small flowery world she built, but an accident with a heavy bag of dirt over a month ago made you complain. She reluctantly let you handle the store until her back got better, which was coming along slowly.

After watering the plants, sweeping the floor, pruning the bonsais, and preparing the several bouquet orders you had for the day, you ran out of things to do, settling to play some jazzy music while you reviewed your class’ notes as you waited for clients.

Your evening was quite calming. Clients came in like droplets, so the shop never felt too crowded. Most of them asked for flowers for their loved ones, some even speaking about their partners, how they had met, or the dates they were excited to have.

It was cute. You had always been fond of the small flower shop and shared the interest with your mom, reason why you didn't care about taking the lead for a while or doing your homework there. You loved the way the flowers brought people together, and the stories and meanings that they had behind them.

Just as you figured out the answer to that one question you had been stuck on, the bell rang, indicating someone's presence inside. Someone that approached you in a rather passive-aggressive manner.

"How can I say 'fuck you' in flower?"

Words that you had never imagined coming out of someone's mouth —which was something, considering the wide range that your imagination could reach sometimes—.

You carefully observed the man's gestures, who didn't stop scanning the place. Years spent helping out at the flower shop had given you a kind of sixth sense, one that allowed you to easily see through people's appearances.

"Do you have anything in mind, or do you not care as long as it is full of loathing?" You inquired with a sweet smile.

Changbin found himself suddenly falling into the harmony of your eyes without realizing it. You quickly left the books on the shelf under the counter, lowered the music and turned to him. Your eyes rested on his, brown and limpid, to which he adopted a belligerent posture in response, an action that —to his surprise— did not unsettle you. He quickly shook his head, focusing on the anger that remained inside of him.

"Make it striking. Something so colourful that can even hurt to look at." You giggled.

"Intense." He held back a smile, his lips twitching. "One second."

He stared at your figure as you went to the small workshop behind the counter. The feeling that Changbin had at first had nothing to do with what he was perceiving at that time. A pleasant floral smell, mixed with mint and lavender essence filled the building. It wasn't only the exquisite aroma that captivated the man, but the beautiful colourful landscape that that small establishment hid. The white wood decoration made any bouquet or flower pot stand out as if it were the icing on a cake. The large windows allowed a large amount of light to enter, and they gave amplitude to the small place.

It was a beautiful place, but strange. Peculiar, for sure, and it was due to the chromatic order of its flowers. Sorted by colour scale, regardless of the species. The red roses were with the poppies, the tulips with the clivias and the orange jasmines. The ferns, aloe vera and fittonias were also together, despite having nothing to do with each other. The coves, cherry blossoms and hydrangeas shared a common space that at first glance, they should not have. It was a beautiful chaos, but it was still a floral hustle and bustle.

"Do you like it?" You asked sweetly when you came back.

"It's not bad." He replied vaguely. "It's..." Ravishing "...small."

From his attitude and the way he studied the place, almost as if he expected some kind of danger to appear among the pots and leaves, some would say he was not to be messed with, but to you, he looked like someone rather shy and quite sceptical, nothing to do with what he might seem as, considering that tattooed bad-guy build and the killer stare that he carried around. A thought occurred that his somewhat murderous look did not allow him to say what he really thought.

Nevertheless, you could agree with him. Not only was it a small store, but it was a disarray of varieties. Nevertheless, to Changbin, above all, feeling watched all the time was something he was used to, yet your stare felt different, making him feel more goosebumps the longer he was under your eager gaze. He couldn't help it, but when you looked at him so kindly, he felt strange.

He wanted you to stop looking at him.

"Orders arrive on Wednesdays," you mentioned, already arranged behind the counter. "Shop opens at nine, so feel free to arrive whenever. I will need more flowers for your bouquet, so until then, I'm afraid I can't have it. Either that or..."

Changbin interrupted you. He couldn't stand to have those deep-coloured eyes immersing in his own.

"Wednesday is fine." He said in a huff.

You smiled, dimples on display. "Okay! Then as long as you stop by on Wednesday, we can arrange the bouquet. I'll be here, spraying water to the chrysanthemums, alliums and hydrangeas."

Changbin felt his chest tighten, his eyes wandering around your features, your dimples, your lips. He stopped himself, took back his cash almost in a hurry, and left almost as quickly as he had arrived.

"See you then, and thanks for shopping in Lilac!"

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

Wednesday. The delivery truck was parked on the street facing the back of the store to unload the flowers you had ordered for the week.

To your surprise, Mystery —the nickname you had chosen for him, that sounded way better than 'fuck you flower boy'— came back precisely at nine am, and again, surprisingly enough, he wasn't alone.

He looked way more relaxed with his friend, the anger that almost shocked you looking long gone as his features didn't remain tense.

The bell rang as you were preparing the workshop for the arrival of the many flowers.

"Wow, this place is lit." His friend had good taste, judging by what you could hear.

"Thank you!" You mentioned with a cheeky smile, startling both men when you came out of nowhere. "Sorry, the truck’s outside, but I’ll be here in a minute."

You approached the delivery guy, who was opening the truck and setting the ramp so lowering the different flowers wouldn’t be too hard.

“Hey, Jerry!”

A comfortable chat took place between the two, who had met each other several times ever since your mom got hurt.

Inside, another conversation was happening. “Remind me, what are we waiting for, buddy?” Han asked as he wandered about in the colourful building.

Changbin sighed, frustrated at the reminder.

“The boss said something the other day I didn’t like. As a matter of fact, I despised it,” he grunted. “He looked at my desk and saw the bouquet I kept there, the one we got for that other show, you know?” Han hummed, paying attention. Weirdly enough, Seo’s eyes never left the backdoor you had gone through, not even when he continued. “So he mentioned how untidy my desk looked, how disgusting it would look when the flowers died, and hinted that flowers would look way better in his studio. It made me fucking angry. I don’t care if no one likes you that much to give you pretty flowers.” Han cleared his throat, allowing Changbin to return from his hating cloud. “Yeah. Uh. So we’re here to plan his bouquet.”

“Sheesh, I get that. The boss can be such an asshole sometimes.” Jisung mentioned vaguely. “But why nine am?”

Because I needed the excuse to see her. “I want to get this over with. If I’m lucky, he’ll even brag about the flowers.” He smirked, hiding his true intentions.

He suddenly heard some giggles through the door you had crossed. Han arched his brows.

“So you offered to pay for coffee and takeaway tonight for me just so I’d come with you here only to get flowers for the big man? Really?” He said, faking innocence as he settled his elbows on the counter, holding his cheeks in his hands, almost like a toddler.

He gave Han a side-eye. He shrugged. “Give me one more sign, and I might start thinking that…”

Bin covered his mouth. “Don’t. And that also goes to don’t lick it, or I’ll make sure Minho air fries you.”

Jisung lifted his hands, giving up. “I wonder what’s going on back there.” He smirked, teasing.

Changbin didn't want to flutter around you two, but he knew that putting the flowers in the store wasn’t that hard. He clenched his jaw unconsciously.

"If I had known that you were looking for an employee, I would have come running," said the boy, putting his cap back. “If you are looking for more staff, you know where I am.”

"It's very kind of you, but I never looked for anyone in the first place. Mom wouldn’t even dare to accept it,” you laughed. “Also, I wouldn't bother you knowing that you have your own trade. In addition, I get to put my skills to the test, but I can get quite moody sometimes. I bite, you know.”

He arched an eyebrow. "Don't worry about any of that. Working with you would be a thousand times better than distributing flowers throughout the city.”

Maybe it had been how you laughed or the snarky reply he had just heard, but Changbin needed that man to leave. Now.

Your eyes landed on that buff silhouette who entered the inside of the truck. Seo continued to unload the flowers. You tried to finish the conversation, but the guy wouldn’t stop talking while there was a client of yours doing your fucking job. You grew tired of Jerry, and you got up inside the trunk, willing for the man to take a hint and leave already.

Han couldn’t believe his eyes.

"Oh, please don't," Jerry went up too. "I'll take care of moving the plants.”

"Don't worry, it's the last one.” You tiredly smiled at him.

You took the remaining bouquet and got out of the truck behind Seo while the delivery guy wondered when the flowers had been unloaded. You quickly said your goodbyes before you returned to the counter.

"Thank you for lowering the flowers, it was not your job yet you did it anyways,” you smiled shyly as you started preparing the table in front of you with different sorts of labels plus the diferent tools you needed. “Sorry for the wait.”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry.”

Han stared blankly at the man who scolded him singlehandedly every day he was late to the studio just by a minute. He then stared back at you, then at his friend.

No bloody way. Holy shit.

"For your order, I found something the other day I though you might enjoy," your smile widened, your eyes like crescent moons as you handed him a small book.

“Oh.”

It was an old copy of a book that read “The Language of Flowers.”

“Maybe you could search up in the insults chapter if you see any meaning that you think could suit.”

He looked at you and quickly back to the book so he wouldn’t drift away in your eyes like days ago.

“Yeah, fine.”

Changbin was not very talkative, but the bitter tone with which he spoke was unusual. Han could tell, years of knowing the man allowed him to feel a bad mood in the way he communicated. His gaze was more frivolous than usual, and he squeezed his lips as if he didn't want to say anything. Shockingly to him, you noticed and were unable to let it go.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned softly. “Are you upset?”

Changbin hesitated. Han gave him a soft kick where he knew you wouldn’t see it.

“Yes.”

You started slowly writing in the labels before you as he, at the same pace, passed the pages.

"May I know why?"

Changbin cleared his throat. Shit, why was he so nervous?

"That guy was just talking, and that's why I had to do his job,” he grunted.

"I... I'm sorry." You looked down, sounding sincere. “If I hadn't given him a conversation, he would have started unloading the flowers.”

It wasn't true, and Changbin wasn't an idiot. That guy wouldn't have taken his eyes away from you unless he didn't have enough time to finish his shift.

But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was that your voice didn’t sound the same when you talked about this guy. It didn’t sound right.

"What type of flower is a Forget-Me-Not?" Han interrupted, looking at the book, reading past Changbin's shoulder. If he continued like that, Seo may not scold him anymore. For a short time, at least. Maybe a week.

"Oh." You recovered your kind smile, and the knot that had formed on Changbin’s chest untangled as soon as he heard your excited tone as you showed Han the small blue flowers. “They actually import them, from Mexico! Did you know?” You asked no one in particular, the two men in the shop suddenly interested in the topic as you continued to blabber about flowers.

To Changbin, only when you talked about them, your voice seemed less annoying. Even pretty, he could admit —not out loud, obviously—. But he liked it, mentally classifying your sweet tone of voice into “I-would-listen-to-it-to-fall-asleep”.

No one would notice.

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

“Dude. You are like, I don’t know, totally in love with her?” Han said as he took a sip from his takeaway coffee as he entered the recording studio and sat on the sofa.

In his mind, just because he hadn’t paid for it, it tasted ten times better, even though if it was the same he chose every day.

The accusation almost made Changbin spit his own drink. He stared at it, wondering if there could be something in it that could’ve explained why his face felt so hot all of a sudden.

Fuck, was it that noticeable?

“Yeah man, it is really noticeable.” Han smiled, surprised at his silent victory. “You look at her like Minho Hyung looks at his cats. It’s sickening, really.”

Changbin frowned. “I do not.” Jisung deadpanned.

“Says the man that made me third wheel in a fucking flower shop.”

“What are you guys bickering about?” Chan asked with a small smile as he got inside.

“Changbin is in love with the flower girl two blocks away.” Han teased in a sing-song voice.

“Fuck that.” Chan’s eyes grew big with emotion.

“Shit, he is.”

“Actually, Hyung,” Jisung mentioned as he handed Chan the other coffee he had bought, “I think she might like him back.”

Changbin coughed violently. The others smiled.

“Why the fuck would she?” He frowned again, his eyes not leaving his phone. “I literally met her last week and behaved like a piece of shit.”

Both Chan and Han smiled, knowing that by not refusing the allegation, Changbin was actually interested in Miss Flower Girl.

“Remember the analogy I made with Minho and his cats? Same shit goes for her. I’ve never seen anyone staring so intensely at someone’s eyes.” Han trembled, exaggerating. “Chills. Literal chills.”

Small hope was planted in Changbin’s heart, but he tried to shove it deep inside him. “Either way, after I go and get the flowers from her, whatever this is, is over. There’s no chance,” he shrugged.

Chan and Jisung shared worried looks. Despite what Changbin could show to people, he was a loving, sensible person. They both knew that if he had silently admitted the existence of a crush on this girl, it was because he meant it. And for a guy like him, who was often viewed as mean and rude or even dangerous, he usually chose to approach new people the less, so whatever was going through his mind meant a big deal.

Chan tsked. “Maybe it’s none of my business, bro, but after Hari, I’ve-.”

“Spare me the trip, Hyung,” Changbin interrupted in a low voice. “She’s been stalking me for months since I broke up with her. I really don’t want to hear it.”

Chan patted his back, a sad smile on his features as he looked at his friend.

“S’good, man. No hard feelings.”

After working on some tracks for a while, the topic was thoroughly avoided by the members, until Changbin sighed.

“Okay. You guys can stop your mind games.”

The others gave him a puzzled look.

“Whaddya mean?” The Australian wondered.

Seo let a small smile show as he passed his hands through his face.

“I really want to see her again.”

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

So thanks to Chris, the bell in the flower shop rang once again. You were humming a popular song, one that Changbin knew, so instead of approaching you, he wandered through the isles filled with flowers, listening to you as you continued the melody.

His heart beat like crazy when after a while, he opened and closed the door again, pretending he hadn’t been there listening to you.

“Oh, hey, Mystery.”

Your smile made his heart skip a beat. The sundress you were wearing, along with the short brown apron, made him swallow dry.

“Flower girl,” he greeted. You lifted your eyebrows.

“That’s a change of attitude. What can I do for you today?”

Do me. “I was wondering if you could deliver the flower bouquet. Is that possible?” He asked politely.

Your dimples showed when you smiled at him, looking for a notebook in the mess that your study guides made.

“College?” He wondered, staring at your eyes daringly as he pointed to your books.

“Music major, final year,” you grinned. “For your delivery, write the address here, and I’ll deliver it myself,” you played with a strand of hair, quickly moving it behind your ear.

Chanbin’s hands tickled. He wanted to do that too.

“I wouldn’t do it usually, but I figured you wouldn’t enjoy seeing Jerry again.”

He scoffed as he scribbled in the notebook. You cackled.

Suddenly, a loud noise from the workshop startled both of you, who were kind of lost in the other’s eyes.

“Girl, are you still here?” Your mother asked loudly.

You facepalmed, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Changbin, to which he quickly gestured that it was fine.

“You ok, mom?” You replied.

“I’m fine! God, you spend your days here. If it were me, I’d be outside kissing boys!”

Your face turned red in the blink of an eye. “Mom?!” Changbin held back his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand.

She never answered, just chuckled teasingly.

Changbin quickly closed the notebook and gave it to you, his cheeks suddenly almost as red as yours.

“See you soon, I guess?” He smiled, still holding back a loud cackle.

“Stop laughing.” You snickered. “But yeah. See ya… eh…”

“Changbin. Seo Changbin.” He left, smilling like an idiot.

You opened the notebook as you raised the music’s volume again, blushing furiously at your discovery.

Along with the address of what you recognised as some well-known company and the name of who the flowers where for, he had left a note below it.

In case you want to go kiss boys.

Was that… his phone number?

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

After closing the shop for the day, you stared at the flower bouquet as you were walking down the street, headed to where Changbin had written down. After figuring your way out with the maps app on your phone, you decided that taking your bike would be stupid, as it only was two blocks away.

The mix of colours was striking. At least, it had that. You hoped the person who would receive it would like it, meanings aside, considering you put effort into it.

The company was bigger than you expected. Before you could allow yourself to enter and look around, a security guard stopped you.

“Excuse me, miss, no one is allowed inside without a pass,” he explained.

You smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. “I was just here to deliver this…? I wasn’t told about this restriction, my client just said that I should deliver it in person.” Yeah, that was a lie, but he didn’t know that. “Would it be ok if I went inside? It’ll be only for a minute.”

He sighed, then shrugged. “I don’t think I’m allowed to let you pass…”

“Oi, Hyung!”

A somewhat tall man —at least taller than you— approached you two.

“You’re Flower Girl, right?” He said, sounding excited, failing to hide it. “She’s with me, don’t worry.”

You entered the company with him, but after that, you stopped and turned to him.

“I appreciate the help, but who are you?”

He smiled. “Yikes. Forgot about that. My name is Chris, it’s nice to meet you. I am close friends with Changbin.”

Your eyes softened, and you smiled. “Oh, I see.” You then looked back at the notebook you carried, the one Changbin had written down in. “Do you know where could I find Park Jin Young’s office?”

Chan looked at you weirdly. “Changbin paid for flowers for the big man? Damn.”

You giggled. “It’s not what it looks like. These flowers all have different meanings, and none of those is a good one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! For example, the orange carnations?” You pointed out one of the flowers. “Those mean ‘I hate you.’”

Chan snorted and laughed at every meaning of every flower you gave him.

“Chan!”

He turned around to face whoever had called him, seeing Changbin approaching him, looking anxious.

“Chan, she’s fucking downstairs.”

Chris’ stare turned darker. Your heart tightened in your chest.

“Stay with her. I’ll go see if I can talk to security.” Chris managed to say before he rushed downstairs.

“Bin, is everything good?”

He noticed your presence, to which he froze for a second. Time started to feel slow. His spine locked up, and his shoulders stiffened. He even felt his shirt stretch in a sudden motion.

“Flower Girl.” You could feel the sudden state of relaxation he arrived, his figure visibly less tense.

You hesitated on what to do but then chose to act by instinct. Hugging him.

He tensed up again, the sudden act taking him by surprise. You tried stepping back, feeling like you had made him awkward, but he then pulled you in a bear hug.

“Thanks, pretty.” He whispered in your ear. “I needed that.”

“S’ok.” You smiled, a fluttering feeling settling in your stomach

He stepped away, shyness all over him. You smiled at him, but something changed as he looked at someone behind you.

Before you could turn around to see what had been the issue, he got way closer than a second ago, a hand travelling to your cheek, directing your face to meet his.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Seo whispered, just before he pressed his lips against yours.

Your confused self couldn’t manage the sudden emotions that ran through your body. You felt his tongue brush your lips, and you had to make an effort not to drop the flower bouquet when you started matching his pace, feeling him smile in between the kiss.

Concentrated on the man that had a hand on your face and an arm around your waist, you were too into it that you didn’t hear a woman gasp at the end of the corridor, leaving in a rush, crying fake tears.

Don’t get Changbin wrong. Seeing the girl that had tried to manipulate and gaslight him out of his music career just so he could spend his time doing stuff for her, things she took for granted, he figured the only way of making her leave should be a harsh one.

And okaaaay, he might have been dying to kiss you for a while now.

After texting Chan that she was gone, you both eventually arrived in front of the office.

He stayed behind as you entered, approaching a somewhat 50-year-old man with clothes as striking as the bouquet you had in your hands.

“Who sends these?” He questioned, his features suddenly looking younger when he smiled.

“Seo Changbin, sir," you bowed. "Have a good day!”

You couldn’t help but snicker when you closed the door. You found the three known men standing in front of you.

“So? Did he like them?” Han inquired.

“Pfft. I made that bouquet. Of course, he loved them.” You bragged jokingly.

The three of them offered to give you a quick tour, as it wasn’t common to have the opportunity to see the JYP building from the inside. Before you realised, it started pouring outside, heavy rain that looked like it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

You cursed under your breath. If you even dared to walk under that rain, you would end up swimming your way home, your skirt and your blouse ruined.

3RACHA stood behind you, noticing that you were still at the entrance after a bit. Both Jisung and Chan ushered and pushed Seo to where you were.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, in a tone softer than what you expected.

“It’s just… ugh.” You looked at him, then tsked.

He froze when you got even closer, passing your hands above his shoulders. He had to hold back a shiver when your hands brushed his neck.

“Got no one to do this for you, I guess?” you gently fixed his collar, hands lingering on him more than they should have.

He couldn’t hold back a smile, looking at you differently, in a more intense way.

“I’ll take that as a no.” You ended the topic quickly, your eyes wandering from his eyes, then his lips, and back to his eyes again. You swallowed dry. “I can’t go back home with this rain, but my phone died, so I can't call for a cab or an Uber.”

He looked at you up and down. “Are you in a hurry?”

You stared at him, trying to match the intensity from before. “Not really. I just don’t have anything better to do. Why?”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

Neither Chan nor Han could say that Changbin was the messiest of the three, but he still was messy a generous amount. So when he got into the studio and picked up everything in less than five minutes, they gave him a look.

“Use protection, you bitch.” Jisung teased. Bin ruffled his hair.

“Fuck off," he chuckled. "See you tomorrow, guys.”

He guided you to the parking lot, and you both started driving.

Changbin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened when he noticed how your skirt rode up your knees when you sat down.

“Wait, I didn’t give you my address.” You realised, confused as to where was he going.

“I know.”

You looked around when he entered an underground parking lot, then parked and quickly got up to open your door.

He got really close, unbuckling your seat belt.

“You don’t need to be home tonight, right?” His eyes didn’t leave your lips when he asked.

“No.” You answered, almost in a whisper.

He took your hand as you got out of his car. Changbin walked with you to where the elevators were, hands still linked.

“Where are we?”

He pressed the elevator button and looked at you, even more intensely than later at the studio.

“My place.” He kept looking down at your lips. “I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

You woke up the following morning with a warm body next to you, the feeling making you snuggle closer to Changbin, passing his arm and setting it on your waist.

The sound of a notification made you groan in a low voice, reaching for your clothes and grabbing your phone from your jacket’s pocket. It was your mom.

You didn’t arrive last night. Where are you?

You smiled and replied.

I went to kiss a boy, like you said.

You went back to bed, looking fondly at the man next to you.

A buzz from your phone made you wake up from your daydreaming.

Cheeky girl. Flowers follow?

You laughed. As a florist, your mom had made up the expression one day. When saying “flowers follow”, it meant that there would be a positive outcome of whatever you had on your hands.

You knew that to your mom, in this context, 'flowers follow' meant just one thing.

Yeah, flowers follow.

Yeah. You might have fallen in love with him.

Don’t you dare come back home without that boy. I’ll cook something!

“What’s got you all smiley?” A sleepy Changbin made you giggle even more.

He, on the other side, could definitely get used to a morning like that.

You left your phone on the bedside table, and then got close to him again, tangling your legs in between his. He poked your dimples, and you chuckled.

“You, silly flower boy.”

~Kats, who has the urge to put lil’ details in every fic, like how the flower shop is named Lilac, which means ‘first love’ in flower, or how the flower that Han asks about means 'true love'.

(if you ask me, she was humming Come Inside of My Heart, bc I fucking love that song)

Literally LOVED IT!

I love the enemies to lovers trope, as always, but the emotions put in the story and the character development is such a YES FOR ME! the ending satified me frfr!

the enemies to lovers project | lee minho

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵; 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘶, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 – 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘺, 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~18𝘬+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺!!! 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦! 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘩𝘩 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 >.< 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥!

prologue.

“You know I despise you, right?”

“Oh, despise. Such a big word, baby,” Minho drawled with an obnoxious smirk, the one that simultaneously made you want to rip his hair out and kiss those perfectly delectable lips of his, “If it’s any consolation, I abhor your presence as well.”

“Wonderful,” you crossed your legs, a smile creeping onto your face as you leaned backward in your chair, “So why exactly are you here?”

Minho laughed, “The same reason I presume that you’re here for. A hundred dollars to put up with you is a tempting offer.”

Keep reading

Im nothing compared to you but I'll keep my eyes closed

Sad! Minho × reader / Angst

From strangers to lovers again

Part I : I'm nothing compared to you...

--------------------------------------

Minho is sitting on the bar stool with sagging shoulders as he tiredly runs his hand over half his face. The bartender in front of him refills his round glass, which Minhos immediately grabs and presses to his lips. His head filled as if it was going to fall to the side at any moment and land on the ground. But even then he would just lie limp there and probably wouldn't have the strength to pull himself up again.

It hurts too much for a moment. And even if it was due to his destroyed mental situation, it spreads physically to him and he drinks the bitter stuff down to escape that even faster. Hangs his head while the neon purple light shines through the unfilled bar. It was a fancy place. One and another of the other guest were playing billiards behind him, laughing while a group of girls sitting a few chairs further beside him, chatting away. But Minho didn't care about these people when he let the smoke out and drooped his head that became heavier after time. Close shortly his eyes before starring at the counter in front of him. Let his thought flowing across his mind which were more then cruel. Unendureable.

With the lighted cigarette on his lips again, he barely catches a pair of eyes that came from one of the women who glanced at him, laughing softly as she checked him off. The other women probably try to persuade their friend to speak to him. They were possibly older than him. Dressed more elegantly in contrast to his torn trousers and his large black jacket. It wasn't clear what they wanted from someone like him. However, for no important moment did Minho have his attention on her. Perhaps his eyes were briefly in their direction without being aware of it. Minho's mind was at the same time far away but still with him to let him hold on to the emotions he wants to get rid of. There was no room for the rest of the shit.

The pain was too buried in him, flowing into his thoughts. Staring at an empty space and pulling on the cigarette he is holding between his fingers. The smoke quickly leaves his mouth, flying upwards as his head starts to ache and his body is numb from the heavy alcohol. Everything revolves in him and his environment feels too spurious. He couldn't stay here longer.

The beautiful woman with the elegant dress who is about to ask him is leaning towards him at the moment when he is already getting up drunk. Showing her just the cold shoulder and only keeping his eyes on the way to the bathroom. The girl turns back disappointed to her friends, and like always begins to talking bad about him ,,Fucking fuckboy".

With his shoulders hanging, he walks along the cold, lighted hallway in a daze. Everything revolves around him and he felt sick. He was even worse off than before and the feelings he had tried to drink away were only intensified by the alcohol. He only felt the pain more intensely. As if it were the only thing he is forced to be bound to. He couldn't shake the feeling of sadness and despair away. Had no idea how to do to get rid of it.

For a moment he lost control over his body. Catches himself against the wall with his hand to prevent him from falling to the cold floor. He takes with hazy mind his time before Arriving at the small open bathroom after turning. With his head hanging, he holds on to the sink with both hands spreading out. Lifts his gaze to look at himself in the mirror and only stares at his reflection with cloudy eyes.

He looked the way he felt too. Shitty and miserable. Turning on the water, only the neon red lights that shone from the bar illuminate him. Holding his fingers down for a moment, he feels the cold water flowing against his skin, but the feeling was just numb. It's like his mind is completely somewhere else than where his body is. And he could already guess where it had disapears. to her. It was with her. Of course.

God, the thought of her was enough to desperately run his wet fingers over his face before he straightened up again. Holding a new cigarette to his lips and burn it up with the broken red lighter that belonged to her. The toxic nicotine took in and breath in his body before he breathed out the amount of smoke. His movements too hasty than they usually were. He just want to diseapear. He want all of this shitty feelings to diseapear.

Did she feel the same? So damn miserable and broken like she could die any minute? How long did she have to deal with the feelings alone before she finally revealed it to him that day and drew the line? He let the line draw without stopping her at all. Without assurance that day. That damn day. Minho's head shook as the conversation reappeared in his head.

,,I'm just saying that I feel lonely here without you, Minho. I'm done going to bed alone every damn day and then waking up alone again, "I explain to him, looking for the conversation when he comes back from his quick shower. It's something after midnight and not even an hour since he left his Dance practice to come home. It was the earliest time to catch him although I should be glad he showed up at all. There were days when he didn't come home to me for days. And when he did then he left so early before I could even woke up. Coming So late that I was already asleep. There were days when I hardly heard from him for days.

,, Really, (y/n)? Isn't that getting old? Even for you "He doesn't take me seriously. Standing at the counter in the kitchen, pours water from the water jug. Has the gray towel hanging over his shoulder. His hair is still wet and he wore his sleeping clothes on his body. Of course, he wants to go to bed going instead of spending time with me. We were both tired at the end of the day. Minho maybe even more than me because of his strict schedule, but still I couldn't break the hope that he would take our little time together as a priority. Is that too selfish from me to ask?

His posture alone shows how tired he is from the hard work today. His only wish just to go to bed. And for a moment I open my mouth to tell him that it's okay and we can forget it for today. He can then go to bed to get his desired sleep. It was my love for him that wanted to give in and let him in pieces. But the love for myself that kept me from saying the words. No, I couldn't go on like that anymore.

,,Minho. I can't- "

,,then you should never have gotten involved with me "he breaks through my sentence, leaving me speechless with surprise. He let the words slide over his lips as easily as if he's not interessed to know how much i suffer. As if it was my fault so I have to deal with this on my own."If you can't stand it," he has finished filling the glass, but it doesn't look like he's still drinking it. "Then you don't have to stay and suffer any longer, do you?" They were words that I hadn't expected and that I wasn't prepared for. Was that what I got when I opened up my feelings to my lover? No, that was- "What?" I ask dryly, my voice breaks at the end, "What did you say?" But Minho stares coldly at me. ,,You understood me"

Leave or stay. So it was that easy for him.

He knows it. He knows that he should never say these words. Even in that moment he knew.But they left his lips without even considering the effect. How much he now wished that he could only take the words back. Minho turns around from the mirror with weak movements and steps out of the bathroom of the bar. God, he couldn't do that anymore. The conversation repeats itself over and over again in his head. It didn't matter how hard he tried to swallow it, her voice was sticking through his head.

"Is it that easy for you?" I throw reproachfully and incredulously into the room. Can't believe how he doesn't care about all of this.

,,What else can I say about it?" His voice as if it would be from a stranger, ,,You clearly don't love me enough to accept me." He’s accusing me now, moves away from the counter. Begin to doubts me whereupon I laugh sarcastically out of frustration. "Right?" He pulls on when I fire back, "This is ridiculous" looking at him again. However, he seriously pointed at me with piercing eyes: "You didn't deny it", "Because it's not about that" I try to take up my point of view again, which Minho doesn't allow a bit. 

,,Of course, it's about something like that. You act selfish. I should already be in bed instead you decided to stress me out with such topics. Do you even think of me for a moment? "

,,I fucking do, Minho" I defend myself against his accusation, "I always think of you. You have always been my top priority." I let him know, now not as aggressive as the times before. Try again to explain him how important this topic is for me. And for a moment minho stands still and just listened. For a moment,,but I also want to be yours, as I always have been. ". And with that minhos discontent built up again ,,Oh god not again," he sighs out loud, as if he couldn't hear this shit anymore. Driving his hands across his face in frustration as he turns away from me.

Walking back down the long, narrow corridor, he can already see the counter and his seat again, where the alcohol is still ready for him. Another attempt to numb the pain. It was a damn vicious circle and he was well aware of it. Neither alcohol nor nicotine could rid him of what was chaining him.

His eyes move disinterestedly to the group of women who are looking bitter and arrogant at him. Minho clicks his tongue in annoyance as he ignores them. Looking away tiredly and not paying attention to those around him. Better said, is not capable of it.

“Minho, I feel really broken. It's hell if you don't sleep next to me "I try to swallow a sob. Our voice are loud enough so that anyone who walks thru the hallyway could defiently hear us.

"Have you ever thought that you could be the reason why I am not coming home" he replies bitterly. Defends himself with self-protective attitude and an uplifting anger. Comes in my direction, but he's still too far away from me. As if he would can't stand to be near me. "I can't stand to be next to you anymore."

That was a lie. That was such a shameless, gross lie back then. All he wanted was to be around her. He loved her so much. He still does, but anyway, no matter what he tried, it wasn't good enough. He should have tried more. But he didn't even have to do that. He should have just explained how hard he was trying instead of letting off his frustration on her. She would have understood, just as she always did before.

Minho's shoulder bangs hard against another pair whereupon he stumbles and the other guy also trip slightly. Minho couldn't care less. ,,Dude, watch the fuck out" the stranger curse at Minho, who just wanted to continue his way with lowered eyes till this words cross his ears. He definitely blamed the alcohol in his blood for his impulsive reaction otherwise he would have ignored him as usual.

"Sometimes you're really a terrible person" I let him know with a painful expression but fiery eyes.

Minho looks at him with blank dead eyes, annoyed. ,,You popped into me, you fucker" he lets the other person look irritably at him. "How was that?" The stranger takes a menacing step towards Minho, who returns his gaze unimpressed. ,,You’re not able to walk and now you’re mute too?". His hands find Minho's collar which he tugs angrily at. Minho's disinterested expression only made him more racy. "Take care of your dirty mouth, you son of a bitch"

But before either of them can react, his friend interferes and pulls his friend back by the shoulders. So that he loses the hold of Minho a little. “Let the shit with him get away from you. We're not here to fight, "he says to him, noting that Minho is in a drunken, bad mentall shape. While his friend only takes his eyes off Minho as soon as he has been convinced. He pushes away from Minho endlessly, wanting to turn away.

,,Yes, of course. It's me again. "he fires back bitterly, ignoring the pain hiding behind my voice. He was just as hurt as I was on this point. But his ego was too strong to swallow the next words. ,,And that's the reason why i wish we would be finally fucking done. "his words hit me more than they should. They made my heart beat in pain and literally crushed it. And that was the point where I finally had enough. "Fuck you, Minho"

,,Fuck you, man,“´the guy throws those last  words at him, but the younger one isn't finished with him yet. Minho's tight grip turns him quickly and  grabs him by the collar. His eyes are almost Burning. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do by someone drunk who was barely able to stand on his own feet. But Minho couldn't help himself.. "You fucking bumped into me and then blame me for it. And you think you can just go now?" Minho asks in an uplifting voice, looking straight into his eyes. it was really stupid. God, he know it himself. His grip on the next words tighten ,,You should watch your way, son of a bitch" and minho's fist hits his face. With strength so that the other stumbles, hisses in pain and holds his burning cheek. And there was the Damage already made. It doesn't take a second before the guy pushes Minho and hits him across the face, who's feeling numb but is aware of the pain.

,, Now you have the nerve to say such things, but who was there when the self-doubt took over you and you saw no other way out than to give up dancing-” ,,Better hold back your next words, (y/n)” my first warning that didn’t stop my next words to slide out of my mouth.

Minho hits painfully the Ground, touches the beaten spot that hurts like shit. Fuck him off. He can feel the pair of eyes from the guy, who receives a curse from his friend , on him without even looking up. ,,it’s enough now” his friend growls angrily. Rougly pull his friend away while minho’s chest rises and falls as he breathes heavily. 

,,You were at the Ground, Minho. You were alone and lonely. Nobody was there. How even could they? You pushed everyone away from you and let no one come near you. And everything got worse- ”my voice breaks, but every word is audible. Minho heard every single word clearly. ,,(Y / N), one more word-”my eyes watering from that Point on.

Minho gets off the floor. With his brow furrowed together, he holds himself straight till he feel the Ground under his feet again. Before Walking towards the guy who turn his back again towards him. “Apologize, you wanker” His foot bangs against his back, hits it hard so that the victim swings forward. With the weight falls on the decoration table and crush to the Ground. The things fall on top of him.

 “When you got kicked out before your debut because you weren't good enough. Your doubts almost eaten you up and you were down. Always called me because you didn't- "" Enough- "his body trembles with rage as I bring his worst memory back to life I couldn't have hurt him more painfully than with the words I roll over my mouth. He warned me but we both know I crossed the line a long time ago.Just how he did.

Now the other has lost his patience not only with his friend but also with Minho. Grab him by the collar before throw a Punch at his face.That spark an argument. Minho struck where he had to believe that it was a human like-looking being and took just as much as he gives. But the blows that fell on him were only vague given his condition. The pain was there, the insults and provocations that slide over his lips, did not let his opponent be friendly with him. Minho defended himself but ...

,,because you wasn't able Sleep from fear and sadness. I had to call chan because you were no longer able to-”

Minho hit the second one enough so that he would hit the wall but the another one catch minho at that short time and pulled him to the ground. Built himself over him and hit the younger one.

A loud noise makes me flinch and my words stand unspoken in the room, but I've said enough. Enough that Minho’s body shakes with anger and the pain is clearly visible in his face. The broken vase now lies on the floor between us. The shattered pieces spread across the floor so that we can't find a way to each other. The flowers he bought for me two weeks ago lay lifeless on the whole mess. It was damn ironic how much the picture in front of us reflected our relationship just at one glance.

Minho clenched his teeth as he tried to slam the guy away from him, hissing and cursing. He tasted blood, but from that point on he didn't care. It was relief and just too heavenly to feel something different from the feeling that had been dragging its way into his chest for many weeks and months. Covering one pain with another. Even if it was only for a Moment.

,, Do you even know what you're saying? "I ask trembling, the tears are already rolling down my cheeks as I claw my hands on the fabric of my sweater. ,, oh i fucking do." He spilled back, still angry at me. "If I always have to listen to this shit from you when I come home, then I will never enter this house again" "Fine. Then don't do it, you asshole" I spit back.

Minho hears footsteps approaching them from nearby before the next moment the weight that was on him was torn away. Minho still hears the racy words from the guy who is being prevented by guests and his friend from attacking Minho again. At the same moment he is pulled from the ground by the plump bartender. His grip is around the drunken man so he won't do any more stupid things. As if he would.

Minho had enough for the night and saw no reason to deal with this shit any further. His head throbbed, his body strained from the whole fight. He didn't want to be here anymore. Not with the feeling in his chest that made him feel so small. Minho pulls himself away from the grip of the older man, straightening his jacket and after one last dead glance at the people around him, he moves away from them and walks purposefully towards the exit.

That night the most disgusting, ruthless words that could have spoken left our mouths. We hurt each other until we take advantage of each other's weak points. In the midst of the chaos, we forgot the reason for the argument that started. But neither of us decided to take back the cruel spoken words. We both knew that even then, the words could no longer be taken back. Not with the damage that has been done. It was too late.

Minho walks across the empty asphal.Stressed, grabs his thick hair with his head hanging down. God. Groaning inwardly, he lets himself fall against the already closed store. His back hits the metallic material as he leans his head back against the cold metal.

Minho is now finally fed up with all of this. Can't stand it in the same room with me anymore and turns his back on me to walk towards the exit, ,,Where do you think you are going? " I ask him irritably as I notice his next move. Nothing new to what I'm not used to at Minho. But just to accepting that; i was done with it. ,,Wherever. Just get away from here, ”he replies bitterly, no longer looking back at me. 

And with my next words I make him hold still in his next movements.

"If you walk out of this door now, then we're over" my voice shudders with despair and anger. My eyes bore on his back, which been turn into my direction. His chest still moving quickly with anger. And i couldn't see his face now but i know, that he was so tired like me to that point. I didn't want the words to slip out of my lips, but as much as I knew that I was putting him in such a desperate situation, I knew that I had reached my limit with this too.

I prayed that he would turn around. That he would try to understand me and we could try to talk this out. Going to bed peacefully together, like the last time,which was weeks ago. Blame on his busy schedule. I had too much faith in this relationship. Believed that we could climb every hurdle together but in the end ...

Cars are driving the road past him. Most of them on their way to coming home and let themselves fall on the bed to get the sleep they look Forward to. Maybe even if they were lucky enough, they'll find themselves in the arms of a loved one tonight. But Minho had none of it. No more. Not a place to call home. Neither a lover who he can call his and into whose arms he could fall. He spent his nights lying wide awake with the tormenting thoughts that circled through his head and did not let him get a little bit of sleep. And it was all his fault.

Without looking back again, the door slams loudly behind Minho, who has made his decision after a moment's hesitation. As soon as he's gone, I feel like the world around me suddenly falls apart. Collapses on me and I slowly slide to the ground. The tears that had dried broke out again and rolled down my cheek. The only thing that echoed through the room was my loud crying and the sound of me gasping for breath. it was quiet for a while before an meow sounds and I look to the side to see our, rather Minho's cat looking at me with worried and curious eyes. I tried to keep my crying silent but I couldn't hold it back. and it only got worse when I see Soonie's leg bleeding. She must have injured herself on the broken pieces on the floor. Minhos and my chaos didn't just bleed us. Literally. If Minho could see her now. Quickly picking up Soonie, I push back the more tears that want to come up. I hug her tightly, hold her against my chest and carry her to the bathroom to take care of her. Cleaning up the wound and simplify her healing process. I just wish there was something that could heal my pain.

Minho didn't think long when he took his cell phone out of his pocket and entered the month untouched number that he wanted to call several times. But he always decided against it. He leans his head back, that was pounding, closes his eyes while holding the receiver to his ear. It beeps on the other line. Once. Twice. For seconds. Too long. Minho gets this only in a hazy way anyway. It wasn't about fact whether she will pick up or not. It was all about just saying the words he was dying to get rid of.

He pushes himself off the wall as he took his time. His head needs time to get the words out of his mouth. It was all about time. "Hey" he wanted to let out the first words willfully but nothing came of it. His voice was barely louder than a whisper and it didn't sound really gentle either. ,,Honestly, I knew you could be like this. You can be pretty cruel, "he says with a broken voice before he smiles slightly sarcastically with despair," All this shit driving me fucking mad. And I have the feeling that I'm going crazy ”he bites his lower lip and unintentionally tears it open, which is why it bleeds easily. Minho doesn't care.

“I wish i would have a Person now. Someone who holds me tight and heals me from this pain" he pours out, grimacing in pain. “A-And i-God.I want you back. I n-need you, you know? I am nothing compared to you. Nothing without you ”he says freely, taking a long time to leave the sentences out. His head is not working smoothly and yet his words couldn't be truer. God, if he could he would tell her all these words right here now. But that should be enough to burden him a Little less. Even if in small quantities.

"So could you please" he asks softly into the receiver, "be that person again?"

There is silence as he exhales and stays still. This should be enough for now. He better stop before Breaking completly Tonight.

He takes the receiver from his ear and tries to break off the mailbox with half-closed eyes.

But his limbs freeze and his heart stops with his movements as he looks down at the display.

The call has already been picked up. 

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