Latest Posts by hyukastuffies - Page 2

GAD DAM HE IS SO FINE LIKE DUDE ISNT EVEN TRYING AND NOW IM SHAKING IN MY FUCKIN BOOTS

This was scarily similar to what happened in my relationship just a few months ago. Wahh you write so well! Your depictions of emotion are right on the money🥹

— push, pull

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 3.1k

a/n: specific is good, helps me figure out what you want! hope this is somewhat what you were looking for! i went maybe a bit heavy on the angst lmao also sorry for being so late, couldn’t post for a few weeks.

Keep reading

I know my moots are thinking the same thing as me... 🤒

Seungmin Hard Thought Visualizer

Okay so don't even TRY and tell me this isn't hot as hell. Seungmin 100%. Y'all were supposed to be at a welcome home party for yourself but as soon as you got in the car both you and seungmin knew you were gonna be LATE LATE to your own party. In broad daylight, right in the airport parking lot, seungmin asks if he can play with you but he gets a lot more than that...

Just found this acc and I’m so happy I did, I think I’m obsessed. And I had to ask — is this like a side of tumblr that I didn’t know about? Could you point me to other accounts like yours? Maybe with gg idols 🥺

(tho I’m not even a bg stan and I find your content so hot so any recommendations accepted)

I would love to help you but i actually know of no accounts that mainly do links and that's why I started this account! Some writers have anons who ask questions with prn links but that's all i really know! I'll try to incorporate more gg idols and do my research ! If you have any recommendations don't be shy to ask<3

can we please have a hyunjin and lee know link? <3 tysm!

Ofc you guys canヾ(*’Ｏ’*)/

Lee know Hard Thought Visualizer

Whiny sex with him would be so cute don't even try to convince me otherwise.. It's so easy to find links for him oml I'm in minho BRAINROT.

Hyunjin Hard Thought Visualizer

I ALWAYS think of hyunjin when i see a link like this. The way he would hold you up against the wall, yeah struggling the tiniest bit, but ultimately keeping you up there is the HOTTEST thing.

(If links are missing that were there before sadly they do not work anymore, for the Twitter account has been suspended)

My number one favorite stories for real... Not only are they HELLA HOT (HELLA IM SERIOUS), but they are so accurate when it comes to how us bigger girls think and act before we come to terms with ourselves and our beautiful bodies<3

Skz317CB97's Stray Kids X Thick Reader Masterlist

I hope you all enjoy this thick reader series! It has been so much fun to write so far! There will be strong language and explicit content in every part of this series and every part will have its own individual warnings so be sure to read before consuming! If you would like to know the outfit inspiration for the MCs in each part of this series click here!

Bang Chan- Blind date

Lee Minho- Teasing Poppy

Seo Changbin- Strength Training

Hwang Hyunjin- The Set Up

Han Jisung- Movie Night

Lee Felix- Forever My Wedding Date

Kim Seungmin- COMING SOON!

Yang Jeongin- Aphrodite's Pain

**To any new followers! Thank you so much for enjoying my content enough to follow me! Be aware, if you are a blank blog and/or do not have some indicator of your age being 18 or over some where on your page you will be blocked. This is STRICTLY MDNI/18+ ONLY blog. Thank you again to anyone who reads my stories or follows me I truly appreciate it!**

Chan Hard Thought Visualizer

So we all know chan is VERY strong and has quite the bit of stamina so hear me out ... Chris holding you in this position while you just take it😮‍💨

<3

(If links are missing that were there before sadly they do not work anymore, for the Twitter account has been suspended)

THIS IS AN EXAMPLE OF ME GETTING ASKS = ME POSTING. IT HELPS ME WITH MOTIVATION YALL KEEP ASKING ME FOR LINKS AND I'LL PROBABLY GET TO YOU( ╹▽╹ )

Been missing your links 😢😢

Honestly same babes, so here's a jeongin link just for you (◠‿・)—☆

Jeongin hard thought visualizer

Hear me out, Jeongin is VOCAL. Duh vocalracha... Anyways the way i know this is how he would moan when you make him cum in you. So in conclusion, Jeongin is a vocal man but even more so when he's cumming in you<\3

<3

If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just like my post! That works too.<3

Been missing your links 😢😢

Honestly same babes, so here's a jeongin link just for you (◠‿・)—☆

Jeongin hard thought visualizer

Hear me out, Jeongin is VOCAL. Duh vocalracha... Anyways the way i know this is how he would moan when you make him cum in you. So in conclusion, Jeongin is a vocal man but even more so when he's cumming in you<\3

<3

If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just like my post! That works too.<3

WHY DIDN'T SOME ONE LET ME KNOW I HAD THE LINKS BACKWARDS THE ENTIRE TIME ITS BEEN UP😮‍💨💔

can we get a seungmin and huening link please <3

Kpop hard thoughts visualizer

Seungmin helping you bounce on him so you can cum ft. being obsessed w ur ass <3

Kai doesn't get to feel your pussy around him until he's helped you squirt first </3

This is my latest ask I'm sorry love</3 i hope this is okay pretty ❤️

-

If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just like my post! That works too.<3

three in one || hwang hyunjin

» summary: hyunjin finds it depressing to hear that you’ve never had an orgasm. he’s determined to give you three in one night. at least. 

» pairing: hyunjin x reader

» rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact 

» genre: acquaintances to very well acquainted LMAO, porn with minimal (no) plot, implied he has a crush on you though

» warnings: WELL so… degradation, dom hyunjin, sub reader, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation (if you squint), squirting, unprotected sex (it’s fiction ok do better), name calling, very brief crying, hyunjin is big, cowgirl, creampie, spanking, chocking, spitting, slapping (tame tho like once), hyunjin is smug af, sex at a party, hints of aftercare mentioned, i think i got it all now...

» words: 4,742

» a/n: i am revamping tomorrow hyunjin blog only everyone else irrelevant (i’m only joking do not come for me i very much love everyone) but fr i can't even defend myself anymore han i'm so sorry ily. also, i am hitting a milestone soon and have a celebration post up with some ideas in mind for how to celebrate so if you have any particular WIP's of mine you'd like to see first, you can find it here.

The silence in the room drove you further into your best friends arms, hiding out of sheer embarrassment at everyone's surprise. You hadn’t really thought about it, that spilling something you didn’t even deem a secret to be so… well, crazy.

“You’ve never?” Minho speaks up first, his face both disbelieving and feeling a little sorry for you. He’s incredibly outspoken, and you know both from him and others that unlike you, he has a rather successful sex life. 

“How do you know?” Felix interjects. 

“What do you mean how does she know?” Seungmin’s hit the back of his friends head, who in turn hits back as the two begin to argue amongst each other. 

“I mean… it’s not a big deal,” you try, but it’s met with even more outcry from your circle of acquaintances. That’s what makes it so awkward, maybe, that you’d dared share it to classmates that were more only known to you through Jisung, rather than being actual friends to you. 

“You’re in your sexual prime and you’ve never had an orgasm. How is that not a big deal?” Minho continues, and you don’t miss the compliment thrown in there somewhere that he considered you to be in your prime at university. 

“Maybe men just don’t do it for her,” Seungmin interjects, and you don’t miss the way he glances over at Hyunjin, who’d sat rather quietly the whole night. 

You’d ended up at a house party that was still going on all around you, mostly in the living room (where loud music could be heard even from the kitchen), but you were sat in a chair at the dining table, drink in front of you nearly finished, and your best friend and some of his friends around you. 

Hyunjin was the one you knew the least and also found the most difficult to speak to. Maybe it was the crush you’d been developing on him, or maybe it was the fact that he was just very, very hard to get a word out of when he wasn’t in a particularly talkative mood. 

“Wouldn’t blame her. We aren’t that great,” Minho looks entirely offended by Jisung’s offhanded comment next to you, as if he couldn’t believe the audacity of someone to even suggest it. Though it was all in good fun, and seconds later he’s breaking out into laughter. 

You’re thankful that the conversation bleeds into another hot topic and that the boys all seem to move on from your confession, even if part of you thinks they’ll be ready to bring it up again in no time. Deciding to slip away before that happens, you excuse yourself and offer to replace everyone's drinks while you grab water. 

“I’ll come with,” Hyunjin’s chair scrapes loudly, only muffled slightly by loud cheering out in the living room that makes all of you turn while he stands up, “could use the refill.”

You nod, realising very quickly that you’ve never actually been alone with Hyunjin. You shared art classes together, but he always sat on the other side of the room near one of the windows, and the few attempts you’d tried to make at conversation, always ended in you saying nothing before sitting back down defeated.

The annoyance on Hyunjin’s face is near commical when people push and stumble into you both, though it surprises you to feel him reach for your wrist and pull you further behind him to shield you. Maybe you’re overthinking it, but he seems more frustrated at people crashing into you than into him. 

“Fucking hell,” you both land by the bar that’s situated ontop of a rather unstable table, an assortment of half empty drinks and buckets of ice that hold wine.

“I just want water,” you interject when he’s about to refill your wine, and while his face seems a bit confused (something which you think is really, really annoyingly cute), he doesn’t argue with you or try to convince you to keep drinking.

“Water it is,” to no ones surpise, the water bottles are the most full, Hyunjin pouring it into your cup before handing it back to you. 

“Thank you,” he nods, making his own drink while you watch in silence. It feels a little awkward, but it may just be the fact that you’re staring at him whilst he’s ignoring you completely. 

“How many people have you slept with?”

You nearly spit out your drink, coughing while Hyunjin immediately reacts and hits your back lightly, waiting for you to steady yourself. He’s smiling, hiding his laughter, and you begin to feel so stupid for ever struggling to say a word to him. Whilst he’s rather introverted, from what you could tell, he seemed nothing but sweet. 

“Are you going to judge me?”

“No, I’m not asking so I can judge you for it,” he leans back against the table, something he maybe shouldn’t do given that it trembles slightly, his hands holding the edges.

“Six,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms in a defensive stance. He’s eyelevel with you, though his shoulder blonde hair is hiding his brown eyes, covering part of his face before he runs his hand through it. 

“Isn’t that a little sad?”

Immediately you recoil, feeling not only embarassment but shame as you look away. You can see him move out of the corner of your eye, but you refuse to look until he’s hooked his fingers under your chin and forced your head up, “you’ve been with six people and not even one could make you come?”

Again, you deflate in shame though this time a little differently, understanding that he hadn’t insulted you the way it had initially sounded to you.

“I mean… I… maybe I just can’t-”

“Bullshit, don’t even try to give me that excuse,” his fingers are still holding your chin up, and you watch him bite down on his lower lip before placing his drink down on the table. He’s thinking, what of you’re not sure, but you can practically see thoughts twist in his head before he leans down and kisses you. 

You don’t expect it, but it’s such a welcome surprise that you immediately melt against him. He’s electrifying you, pulling you in as he grips your waist and you fall further into him. It ends all too quickly, an embarassing sound close to a whine leaving your lips when he pulls away. 

“I’ll show you if you want…” he’s teasing you, nibbling gently on your left ear before leaving a wet kiss on your neck, “I’ll make it three.”

Hyunjin walks away before you have time to react, his drink in hand as he holds it up as if to say cheers, and you’re standing there wondering if you’re hallucinating or having a very imaginative dream. You’re wrong in thinking he’s going back to the kitchen though, for you see him turn the other way towards the staircase, looking back at you one last time with a knowing smirk. 

He’s inviting you. 

And you can’t seem to say no. 

You send Jisung a message that you’re with Hyunjin getting some air, choosing not to elaborate but saying just enough so that hopefully, he doesn’t worry too much about your lack of return and also doesn’t go looking for you (though with him, you could never be sure). 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you head upstairs, being met with a rather spacious hallway and an assortment of photos on the walls and pots of flowers and plants along the doors. You have no clue where he is and don’t really want to check in every last corner, but turns out you don’t have to, for one door opens and arms snake around your waist and pull you inside before you can say a single word in protest. 

“Couldn’t resist, hmm?” the familiar voice makes you calm down, realising it’s Hyunjin that took you hostage and not a stranger, cornering you at the door that’s now kicked shut and locked. His eyes are darker, more driven with lust and you wonder if you look much the same. 

“Hyunjin-” he kisses you again, effectively shutting you up as you moan against him, feeling one of his hands slide to the back of your thigh, lifting your leg to push himself closer between you. It makes you arch into him, though he forcefully presses a hand to your chest to push you back into the door. 

“F-fuck me. You’ll ruin me,” he bites your neck, enough to sting but there’s a sense of pleasure that comes with it that makes the sensation rather addicting. You want him to do it again, “you think I never noticed you in class? Always looking at me but never saying anything? I was just waiting for you to speak to me.”

“Y-you noticed-”

“Hard not to notice you,” his eyes run along your body, hovering over the zipper that runs through the entirety of your dress at the front. Whilst it looks more like a decorative pieace, it also happens to be the way in and out of your tight dress that now, you realise, may also have been daringly short, “and then you show up in this.”

It’s the way he says it, so raw and rough as his hands run over the fabric, that makes you whimper again. You weren’t sexually inexperienced at all, but the way he was treating you made everything feel new again. 

You get barely a second to react to him lifting you up, your legs going around his waist while the skirt of your dress rises enough for him to see your panties that match the red of your outfit, as if you’d really thought this out, “Jesus.”

He’s captivated by you, using one hand to hold you up and using the other to push the fabric further up, until your underwear is so clear to him that he sees the way the barely there lace fabric clings to your folds. You tremble at his display of strength when he holds you up, reaching for his shoulders to pull him against you. 

His mouth is back on yours as he moves, eventually throwing you onto the bed with far more force than he needed to whilst he kicks his shoes off. You’re about to do the same with your heels, though his hands circle your ankles before he kisses the skin there, “leave them.”

It’s a demand you don’t say no to, watching him while he bruises and licks your inner thigh, leaving trails of kisses while your breathing becomes heavier and the room becomes hotter, “Hyunjin.”

He responds to his name easily, your dress up over your hips as his tongue glides over your clothed folds, and you’re already gripping the bedsheets roughly. He’s teasing you slowly, so painfully that you’re a whimpering mess underneath him and can barely comprehend when he’s pushed the fabric to one side, his tongue circling around your throbbing clit. 

“Fuck, H-Hyunjin,” he groans, making your entire body respond as his mouth does wonders on your cunt, twisting his tongue into patterns before dipping it inside your entrance. 

“You have no idea how good you taste,” and you’re inclined to believe it, if only for the way you see his eyes hungrily gaze into yours while he’s teasing the bundle of nerves gently between his teeth. Your legs push against him, forcing his head back down with your hand that grips his hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind as you practically suffocate him. 

It actually urges him on, if anything, to repeat what he’s doing and adjust his pace, and you clench around nothing as a familiar coil twists in your stomach that never quite goes over the edge of letting go. 

“Please,” you beg, and it sounds like music to his ears. His hands grip your hips, pushing you down hard enough to bruise, and the strength he displays, seeing the way his muscle strain under his shirt and him between your legs makes you lose it. 

Your entire body lets go, thighs likely crushing him between you as your body lifts off the bed, but he doesn’t let go or stop, moving with you as his hands go to you ass, kneading the skin as you grind against his lips, your orgasm tearing through you as you scream his name. 

“Hyunjin… god, Hyun- fuck,” you’re shaking, near tears because his tongue won’t stop lapping over your clit, and you’re half off the bed tempting him to absolutely ravish you. 

“P-please,” you’re trying to tell him it’s too much, but you’re just as desparate for him to never stop. Though he lets go with an obsence sound as you fall back down, seeing his face glisten from the little light from the moon outside. 

“I’m not done with you,” you nearly tell him you don’t want him to be, but the words get caught in your throat when he starts to undress. You’d known he was muscular, if you hadn’t already before you defintiely knew it when he’d been holding you against the wall or pushed you into the bed, but seeing it was different.

His muscles were perfectly defined, creating beautiful shadows and light with the source outside, and you don’t realise how much you’re staring until he’s laughing at you, “that surprised?”

“N-no,” but it sounds rather pathetic and you can’t even try to make yourself sound more stable, for he’s taking his jeans off next, left in only his briefs that seem to strain a lot aganst his hard cock. It looks so tempting, though when you go to take his last pieace of clothing off, he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head with one hand, laying beside you.

“Don’t,” it’s another demand and you listen, legs squeezing together when he kisses you again. He’s so calculated with everything, pulling away to lean his forehead against yours, watching the way your face twists and changes in pleasure and arousal as he begins to unzip your dress. 

Your tits practically spill out once the fabric allows them to, and Hyunjin can’t contain his surprise to find the metalic jewelry in both of them. It’s the first time since coming into this room that you feel like for a brief second, you have the upper hand, “like them?” you twist your body slightly, enough for them to push together whilst he’s still bound your hands together. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” the zipper is completely undone, your dress now open at the front as he takes one of your nipples into your mouth. It’s foreign to him, to feel a metalic object in his mouth, but he doesn’t mind when he hears the way you start panting again. 

He swears you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in his life, and he lets two of his fingers slip between your slick folds again with next to no warning, smirking when you cry his name out, “are you going to be good and come for me again?”

“Y-yes,” he grins, eyes falling onto yours to watch you, see the way your face changes as one of his fingers pushes inside you. The cold metal of his ring makes you clench, and he hisses at the feeling. 

“How the hell are you going to fit my cock if you’re this tight?” he pushes the imposing digit in and out of you, agonising in his movements before he adds another. Hyunjin feels the way you relax more and more, your chest moving up and down with heavy breaths as your eyes begin to close. 

He decides he doesn’t like that, sitting up in a way that allows his free hand to go around your throat, squeezing lightly. The shock makes you open your eyes, and immediately, he stops the small constriction in airflow, “good girl.”

You whimper, a crying sound that turns into a louder moan when a third finger slips inside you, “did you like that?” 

There’s a blush on your cheeks when you nod, and Hyunjin makes a mental note to remember it, “so you like it rougher?”

In a way, it doesn’t surprise him, but it makes him grin as his fingers push deeper, enough for you to arch up, though you’re flat on the matress again when his hand is back on your throat, “is this okay?”

He’s asking out of concern, even if you aren’t offering up much resistance, but he stops the grip he has on you when you don’t say anything first, “yes. Please d-don’t stop.”

“Hmm, you really act like a whore,” he’s grinning, feeling you clench around his fingers at the insult and more and more, his thought that you love to be degraded very much seems to ring true. 

He doesn’t warn you when his thumb finds your clit, nor do you expect it. You’d been so distracted by his fingers inside you and his insults and the hand occasionally on your throat that it was the very last thing you expected, realising how close to the edge you actually were when he teases you there. 

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop. Hyunjin p-please,” and how could he say no if you begged so nicely? He leans down, kissing the shell of your ear before he whispers. 

“On one condition,” you’re ready to give anything, feeling tears sting at the corners of your eyes from the frustration you feel, “you ride my cock like the slut you are.”

It pushes you over the edge, your eyes squeezing shut as your body pushes off the bed again, though he’s quick to push you down and hold you there with his free arm, fingers still deep inside you as your walls clench around him. His thumb is still teasing your clit, briefly stopping the motion to spit on the throbbing bundle of nerves before letting his saliva mix with your orgasm. 

Your come is along his forearm and even on his thighs with the way he’d been sat, but he’s relentless on not stopping, enough to send an afterwave of another shattering orgasm that has you squirting onto him again, and you’re crying and screaming his name over and over from pleasure that’s too much. 

He wonders if the whole house hears it, but honestly, he’s not that sure he cares, nor does he care how you’re spilling onto someone’s bedsheets. 

“H-Hyunjin,” your tired arms dig into his biceps, tearing the skin red, making him hiss, fingers slipping out of you before he slaps your pussy, your body arching off the bed when he does, “f-fuck.”

“Open,” you’re barely able to comprehend anything, but your jaw goes slack as you let two of his fingers push in, immediately sucking on his digits and tasting yourself on your tongue, “you made such a mess, princess.”

You groan, still shaking from your orgasm though seeing the way his thighs and arms are glistening in your juices. He looks nearly just as spent, breathing heavily, his hair clinging to his skin by his neck and forehead, but you don’t think you look any better. 

“Let’s take this off,” he helps you out of your dress fully, your underwear following quickly before he strips naked before you. Your jaw practically drops again, seeing his cock spring free and slap his stomach. You feel yourself get more aroused, and it doesn’t surprise you to feel some of your arousal stick to your thighs. 

“You look ruined,” he’s grinning, hand cupping your cheek as he admires the streaks of mascara and mess of light pink lipstick on your face. You still look beautiful.

You push your body up to sit on the edge of the bed where he stands, eye-level with his waist as your hands go to his hips. He seems to know what you’re doing, but he thinks he prefers you in a different position, “knees.”

It’s like you’re possessed, for you’re on your knees in an instant, your heels against your ass while the wooden floor digs into your skin, “open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, looking up at him just as he spits into your mouth again. When you’re about to swallow it, he tsks, stopping you, “stick your tongue out.”

When you do, he’s grinning, seeing how eager you are to please him makes his cock twitch as he lays the tip onto your tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone respond so eagerly, but you wrap your mouth around him immediately, eyes looking up at him wide and innocently. 

He doesn’t know how much longer he can go without fucking you. 

“Good girl,” you love the praise, even as your jaw aches slightly from his girth. His cock is long and thick, your mouth far too small, though you manage to push yourself about halfway before you’re chocking. 

Hyunjin’s hand goes to your hair, tugging it harshly to make you look up, and it’s that innocent look again, sucking on his cock like you’re starved, that makes him lose all reserve, yanking you back so his cock springs free again. You don’t get much of a warning when he leans down, hands going to your waist as he lifts you up rather roughly, making you yelp as your arms go around him. 

His cock is pressed against your folds, making you both moan as the tip grazes your entrance. You’re coating him in your slick, and he doesn’t waste a second to fall back on the bed first with you on top of him. Your small fingers find his cock whilst you lift yourself up, letting his tip push just past your aching hole as you let out a mewl. He’s barely a centimeter inside you and already, you feel painfully tight, “go slow… it’s okay.”

You nod, feeling him steady you by your hips to hold you up if needed, and even though it pains him considerably, he’s letting you choose the pace as he mostly stays unmoving. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open, clenching around him and making him hiss when you do, but you will yourself to relax and slowly inch yourself up and down on the bit of his cock that you’ve managed to fit inside you. 

“Hmm look at you… you’re being so good,” the praise makes you eager and willing, and he feels the way you respond to his words, slowly going an inch further. 

You don’t notice his cock fully inside you until you realise you’re fully straddling his lap, his head rolling back just seeing the way he’d disappeared in you. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, having you above him, naked and wanting. 

It’s absolutely agony for him to see you slowly bounce up and down, getting used to his length and moaning every time he bottoms out, your tits moving more and more the faster you go, and he reaches to pinch your nipples, teasing the pierced flesh as you whimper before slapping the skin.

“F-fuck,” he wants to move, be rougher, but he doesn’t unless you tell him he can, until you tell him you want more, “m-more.”

It’s like music to his ears, and he immediately begins to meet your thrusts, using the strength in his body to be rougher, his hands finding your ass and giving it a daring slap to see how you react. Your hands fall to his chest, steadying yourself while you bounce on his cock, and he slaps your ass one more time, harder, feeling the way your walls clench tightly around him when he does. 

“You like that?” you nod, a tired yes leaving your lips, and Hyunjin decides that maybe, he’ll let you rest a bit. Though his idea of rest is rather different from most, “sweetheart, let me.”

Feeling his cock leave you nearly makes you cry, but he’s turning you around so your back is to him, slipping himself back inside your pussy without thinking about it much, as if it's molded for him. You’re not sure what he’s planning as he sits up slightly, letting your back fall to his chest, pushing your legs up against your stomach so you’re folded against him, allowing him more control of how deep he goes inside you whilst his hands hold your ankles by your heels. 

You realise quickly that Hyunjin had changed the position because it would allow him to thrust into you faster, and he’s immediately relentless with his pace, making you cry out his name as every angled movement of his cock hits inside you beautifully. 

Your tits bounce deliciously, his mouth sucking hickeys onto your shoulder to hide his groans, one arm moving to hold you under your knees while the other finds your throat again, “you’re gonna come on my cock.”

It’s not a request but rather you being told, and you meekly nod as your fingers go over those around your neck, daring him to squeeze tighter. He does, fucking into you harder, hard enough that you wonder if his hips will bruise you, but your senses are overwhelmed and you can’t help it when your free hand goes to your clit, teasing the nerve just like Hyunjin had done earlier. 

It makes him lose it, seeing you pleasure yourself with his cock deep inside you and his hand around your neck, and he’s almost relieved when your body stops moving before it crashes into your third (or fourth?) orgasm of the night, screaming his name so loudly that he knows it was heard downstairs just as his cum spills inside you, coating your walls as you clench and twist in his arms, your sweat covered back sticking to his chest. 

Hyunjin slows, but he’s still thrusting into you, more languid as he pushes his cum inside you, and you let out a strained moan when you see him slip out of you, the mess of both your orgasms on his cock and spilling out of you whilst you try to regain your breathing. 

It’s peaceful first, as you lay next to Hyunjin trying to kick your heels off, though you eventually give up and he does it for you with a little laugh, though he's interrupted with a knock on the door. 

“Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do?” it’s not angry, but you recognise the teasing voice of your best friend and you immediately want to disappear. You’re convinced you can never leave this room again, or if you do, it’ll have to be through the window. 

“I was only trying to help,” you look next to you, about to hit Hyunjin for the way he’s teasing yet the way he lays there, so ethereal and practically glowing from the aftermath still panting, you can’t bring yourself to. 

“Ah, well I take it it was succesful?” there’s laughter, all good natured but it makes you hide in Hyunjin’s chest anyway, and the blonds heart practically melts seeing you push into him. 

“It would be very rude of me not to have been!” 

He kisses your forehead, the laughter fading away and whilst you know they’re only well intending, you know you’ll never live any of it down. If not from Jisung, then definitely from Minho, from what you could gather.

Or Seungmin.

“Are you okay?”

You look up at Hyunjin, seeing the very real concern in his eyes and it takes your breath away. Your silence, however, worries him, and his face immediately turns into a frown, “did I hurt you?”

“No! No, I’m just… tired.” 

He nods, understanding because he feels much the same, but he doesn’t really want to keep you in this mess. 

“Can you get up for me?”

You sit up slowly, his fingers running along your arm in patterns as he urges you on, smiling, “let’s clean you a bit. I’ll drive you to mine and you can shower? I’ll order us some food. How does that sound?”

Honestly, you could really use the meal. That, and food always tasted better when it was free. 

“I like pizza,” Hyunjin laughs, nodding as he does his best to clean up the mess on your body with the ruined sheet that he’ll have to throw on the floor for the laundry (or even burn). 

“Pizza it is.”

got nothing to say aside from feedback, comments, reblogs etc always appreciated and yeah... i got no defense hyunjin has me in a chokehold it's getting toxic fr

masterlist || nav

Reblog if Chan has saved you in some way 🖤

Soobin Link Masterlist

Sex after his concert stream

More to come...

(If links are missing that were there before sadly they do not work anymore, for the Twitter account has been suspended)

hueningkai links pleasee

Hi! I just posted this!

Heuning Kai Link Masterlist

Kai helping you squirt

More to come ...

(If links are missing that were there before sadly they do not work anymore, for the Twitter account has been suspended)

Damn this is a need 😮‍💨 Such good writing too😟

To Hyunjin, Edging is a Team Sport

Inspired by this lovely post, it crawled inside my brain and would not leave

warnings: afab reader, edging, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink and sub hyunjin if you squint but really you don't have to squint that much, light dirty talk

Smut under the cut :))

Being around Hyunjin was always hard. Dating him was difficult, and it wasn’t because of anything he was specifically doing. It’s just that. He was so distracting. Just looking at him from across the room was enough to get you going, and that had been the case long before you were together. And now that you had him? Well. It was, hard, to say the least, to keep your hands to yourself. 

Today was proving to be especially difficult in that regard. The two of you had gone out to get coffee and hopefully get some work done at a local cafe. You had gotten literally no work done, and it was all because your drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend was sitting in front of you. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't keep your mind from slipping to all of the things you wanted to do to him… all of the things you wanted him to do to you.

“Jinnie?” You mumble softly

“Yes, love?” He lifts his head to look at you, and the eye contact nearly takes your breath away.

“Do you think maybe we could just head home? I’m having a really hard time focusing here and I think I could maybe get more done if we just head back?” As you spoke, you couldn’t help but glance down at his lips and then back up to his eyes quickly, hoping he hadn’t caught your gaze wandering. 

His lips slowly pulled into a small smile, so no hope of him not noticing then.

“Yeah we can go, are you sure you’re gonna keep working when we get back though? Or do you maybe want to, ah, work, on something else?” His eyes were practically sparkling, he loved to tease you about things like this. It wasn’t your fault he was literally sculpted by the gods, ok? 

“Hmm I don’t know, it depends on how much work you’re willing to put in, love.” 

So ok. Maybe you really like to tease him back. Most of the time things start out this way, the subtle push and pull, teasing each other until one of you can’t stand it anymore and gives in. You find yourself blushing lightly at the thought of it. God, you want him so bad.

“I definitely feel like I have a lot of energy to put into the job today, if we’re lucky maybe we can make this last for hours.” 

He smiles again, quickly standing up from his seat and starting to gather his laptop and notes. You follow suit, and soon the two of you are in the car, and then walking up to the door of your apartment. Mere moments after closing the front door, you find yourself pressed against it, pinned there by your boyfriend as he leans in and starts placing light kisses along the side of your neck.

You tilt your head to the side to give him better access, and he begins to bite a little bit along with his kisses. It sends delicious shivers down your spine, and you can feel your stomach tightening already at the sensation. It really was ridiculous how fast he was able to turn you on, get you wet and begging for it. 

After a moment, he lifted his head from your neck to look into your eyes, and you felt another wave of arousal wash over you when you see his attraction to you written all over his face.

“Baby, do you think we could try that thing today, what we talked about last week?” 

His voice was soft, almost a little shy, which was something you didn’t see on him all that often.

“Fuck yes, please,” you reply, and it comes out far more like a whimper than you originally intended. But to be fair to you, last week the two of you had talked about the idea of edging each other for at least an hour, fucking each other and stopping whenever either of you was close, going until you were both needy and squirmy and begging for it, and now he wanted to actually do it? Now? You were going to die a happy death. 

He leans in, kissing your lips for just a moment before pulling back,

“Head to the bedroom?” He asks, cocking his head to the side slightly.

“Hell yes.” You giggle in response and follow him down the hallway.

Once in the bedroom, you quickly remove your shoes and socks before settling back onto the bed and waiting for him to come to join you. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and he swiftly walks between your legs, immediately bending down to resume the kiss. 

Eagerly you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss, and within minutes you find yourself getting impatient. You knew what was coming, you wanted it. Wanted him.

“Jinnie please, hurry up.” You whine softly. 

He chuckles but moves to remove your shirt and push you back further onto the bed. He clearly wants this just as bad as you do, and that fact becomes clear when he grinds down on you lightly and you feel that his cock is already starting to get hard.

“Oh, baby you’re getting hard already? I thought the plan was to edge each other for hours how will we manage it if you’re already this sensitive?” You feign concern as if feeling him being affected by you hadn’t made you leak into your underwear. 

He ignores your words and begins kissing down your neck again. This time though he’s clearly intending to leave marks, and it makes heat rush through you. You love having his marks on you, you love being his in every way possible. 

You tip your head back and moan softly as he makes his way down to a nipple, licking over it gently, You know that you’re already wet enough to soak through your underwear, and it’s just getting worse the longer he stays at your chest alternating between licking and biting you all over. His long black hair brushes against your skin as he continues his ministrations, and you can’t wait to see it hanging over his face as he hovers over you, fucking you until you're begging him to cum inside you, to fill you up and make you his. 

The thought makes you whine, and this makes him stop and look up at you.

“Hm? Something especially good going on in that head of yours?” He smiles softly and it's so unfair that he can be this sexy and just plain adorable at the same time.

“Yeah,” you breathe “Just thinking about you cuming inside me later once we’re both so worked up. I bet it’s gonna be a lot, after all that edging.” 

Your words have the desired effect, as his eyes darken and his hips buck forward in response.

“Shit,” he mumbles, pulling away from you only to undo the buttons on your pants and begin to pull them down.

You wiggle out of them, and pull your underwear down as well, now fully naked and spread out in front of him.

He looks you over, gaze filling with want. It makes you impossibly wetter to see him watching you like that, and you shiver a little at the intense expression on his face.

“God, you’re gorgeous. I can’t wait to feel you clenching around my cock.” You whine in response and sit back up slightly.

“Hurry up then, take off your clothes, please?” He complies, rushing to remove his sweater and jeans, and then there he is in his full glory.

His cock is fully hard now, and its 8 long inches curve upwards in a way that makes your mouth water. Fuck you need him inside you, preferably right now.

You know he won’t have that though, insisting on fingering you to get you ready for him every time the two of you have sex and honestly you can’t even bring yourself to complain. His fingers feel so good.

He moves back so he’s resting between your legs, and slowly drags a finger across your cunt feeling how wet you are. 

“So wet for me already love?” He smiles that charming smile again and it makes your hips buck upwards.

“Please Jinnie- can you just-” 

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” He replies before gently sliding a finger into you.

It literally burns it feels so good. The moan you let out is far louder than what should be warranted by one finger but he just makes you feel so good. He begins to thrust it in and out of you slowly, adding a second finger a few moments later after you’ve adjusted to the first. He isn’t curving his fingers to find that spot within you that makes you writhe with want, at least not yet, and you’re grateful that the edging hasn’t really started at this point.

After one more finger and many more minutes of slow fingerfucking and kisses on your inner thighs, you start whining louder and louder.

“Jinnie please, I’m ready for you, I’m so ready I need you inside please.” And maybe you should be embarrassed that you’re begging already, but he always brings this out in you. Want and heat and lust, plain and simple.

He nods and removes his fingers, positioning himself over you to drag his cock along your pussy, coating it with your wetness.

He moans softly as he does so, and you feel your legs trembling with anticipation. Slowly, painfully slowly, he slides the tip into you and then stops.

Fuck. Even just the tip is enough to make you feel crazy as you squirm trying to get more of him into you. 

So slowly it almost hurts he continues to slide in, and the slow speed makes you feel insane because you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks into you. 

After what feels like years he bottoms out, breathing deeply as he hovers over you. He’s already starting to sweat a little, and ok. Look. Maybe this is a little bit gross but nothing on this earth is hotter than Hyunjin when he’s dripping sweat, especially when he’s dripping sweat onto you as he fucks you hard, his hair sticking to his face with the amount of sweat covering it as he works to fuck you the way you want it. The way you need it.

“Shit, you feel so good around me. It’s gonna be so hard to keep from cumming, oh fuck,” he whines a little, and you can tell it’s taking a lot of effort for him to not start moving right away.

“You can move, Hyunjin, please move.”

And oh, does he move. He immediately sets a pace that's slow but intense, and for a second you’re worried you might cum on the spot and ruin the whole plan as he hits your g-spot on his first full thrust back in. 

“Fuck..” you moan, and move your legs up to wrap around his waist. 

He’s breathing hard in time with his thrusts as he continues to move, picking up speed slightly as time goes by. You’re practically out of your mind as he continues, every nerve ending in your body feels like it's sparking, and you can feel yourself getting wetter around his cock. 

A particularly hard thrust makes both of you moan out, and then suddenly he’s swearing softly under his breath and hurrying to pull out of you. You can feel his hips twitching ever so slightly as he struggles to calm his breathing.

“Oh baby, were you close already?” Some of your mocking tone gets lost in how breathless you sound, the fact that you were able to get him to the point of cumming so fast is so fucking hot.

“Ah, fuck, yeah. Just, just give me a second and I’ll keep going.” He breathes, continuing to shake slightly as he hovers over you. After another minute or so he lines his cock back up with your entrance and slowly starts to push in. 

He chokes out another moan as he goes, and honestly, the best part of this plan is how many times he’s going to get to push all the way into you after stopping for a while. You’re obsessed with how good it feels to be filled, the addictive feeling of his cock spreading you open just for him. He’s getting so deep with every thrust, hitting right on the spot that makes you feel like melting into a puddle of pleasure. You’re letting out little whimpers with each thrust, and it’s so good, it’s so good, and then suddenly he’s gasping again and pulling out.

“Oh shit, oh fuck oh my god.” He whines out and tips his head back, hips twitching with the want to fuck back into you and cum deep inside. He’s so beautiful like this, it’s your favorite way to see him. Gently you run your hands along his back as he takes deep breaths.

Eventually, once he’s calmed down once again, he pushes back in.

“Oh fuck, Jinnie, fuck.” You moan out loudly as he starts his fast pace again, this time thought he brings a hand down to your clit and begins to rub small circles on it as he thrusts.

Pleasure races through you, you’re not going to be able to last at all like this oh my god. He’s sweating more and his hair is beginning to stick to his face from the moisture, his skin is flushed red and he has an expression of pure bliss on his face. This man who looks like a literal Greek god looks on the verge of orgasm and all because he’s fucking you, and it’s suddenly too much and you’re gasping and pushing at him.

“I’m gonna- fuck-  stop I’m gonna cum Jinnie-” he quickly stops his ministrations and pulls out, and this time it's both of you shaking with the effort to not keep going, the edge so close you can taste it.

“You’re so gorgeous darling, fuck I love seeing you like this.” He runs a hand gently along the outside of your thigh as you take deep breaths and attempt to calm down. After a moment you reach down and bring his cock closer to your pussy again.

“You’re ready?” he asks.

“Yes, get back inside me please.” Both of you let out desperate-sounding moans as he enters you again. 

It’s so wet, the slide is so smooth. Getting edged always makes you literally drip with want, and you’re sure there’s already a puddle forming underneath you.

Hyunjin seems to be thinking the same thing, as he whines softly and says “Fuck you’re so wet, god, you feel so good, oh shit,” he tips his head back again and brings his hand down to your clit once again.

It only takes another minute before he is pulling out again. The next time both of you are gasping and pushing each other away at the same time, and you sit up to really look at him. He looks so gorgeous, and you tell him so. 

He’s dripping sweat, breathing hard, and shaking a little. His beautiful (who would have thought you would ever call a dick something like “beautiful”) cock is red and swollen at the tip, leaking so much precum it's dripping down the side and onto the sheets. You can’t believe that this wonder of a man is all yours.

“Kiss me, please.” He complies, leaning forward and immediately connecting your lips.

You kiss for another minute, and then the two of you are calmed enough for him to slide inside of you again.

He can’t seem to stop himself from letting out these soft, high-pitched moans with each thrust, and it's so hot it makes your head spin. He reaches up a hand to run through his hair and push it away from his face and. Oh my god. Just that action has you suddenly on the edge again, begging him to stop.

“Fuck Hyunjin you’re so hot I literally think you could look at me for long enough and I would cum.” You giggle a little as you say it, finding it ridiculous, if true.

“Do you think, this time, we could actually finish? I’m dying here I think I might cum on the spot the next time I push into you.” He says a response, and you nod eagerly.

“C’mon, get back inside me and fill me up then.” 

He does as he’s told, and now that he knows he’s allowed to cum it’s like a damn has broken inside him.

“Fuck baby, can I cum inside you please? Please I’ve been so good, I’ve been fucking you so good, can I cum? Get you all messy and full, please? Ah- love- please oh fuck-” 

Your head is spinning, getting closer with every thrust, every word he speaks. 

“Yes you can, Jinnie please cum inside me please, fill me up, oh god,” you whine, feeling your own high approaching again.

“Oh I’m- it’s happening I’m gonna-”

You watch as his features contort in pleasure as he throws his head back and cums, the feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you as he pumps you full of his cum is enough for you, and you follow him over the edge with a long moan of his name.

Honestly, you might black out for a second, because the next thing you know he’s collapsed on top of you softly kissing your neck.

“Are you ok there love?” He whispers.

“Yeah, you just fucked me so good I knocked out there for a second I think.” You look over to see a silly smile stretch across his face, he’s looking very pleased with himself about all of this.

You pull him in for a slow kiss, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair.

“We have to do this again.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Oh definitely, but I wanna ride you next time.”

can we get a seungmin and huening link please <3

Kpop hard thoughts visualizer

Seungmin helping you bounce on him so you can cum ft. being obsessed w ur ass <3

Kai doesn't get to feel your pussy around him until he's helped you squirt first </3

This is my latest ask I'm sorry love</3 i hope this is okay pretty ❤️

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If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just like my post! That works too.<3

Changbin Hard Thoughts Visualizer

A Jealous, Angry Changbin destroying you after he witnessed Chan coming onto you. "You think chan can fuck your slutty hole this hard? You would love that wouldn't ya?" You can't help but squeeze around his cock at the thought of chan while your best friend had his way with you.. I guess you are a slut. :))

This wasn't requested but i saw it and IMMEDIATELY (sad ik) thought of this exact situation. So here you demons go<3

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If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just like my post! That works too.<3

COLLEGESLUTS.COM — IDEA 686 | HHJ

Part one of the CSC series. You can find this series’ masterpost here. This can be read as a stand-alone, but you may have questions that will be answered in future installations. Keep in mind this is the intro.

There are three things you hate more than anything: 1. Your english Lit. professor, 2. Frat parties, and last but most definitely not least, 3. CollegeSluts.com and their founders. There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything: 1. College, 2. Back alley blowjobs, and 3. The frustrating desire to fuck you silly.

PAIRING: hyunjin x f!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers; smut; crack; angst; college au

WC: 17k…. fear me! (also broke my record!!)

WARNINGS: reader is going through it and will continue to go through it. there’s no development for them at all in this installment i apologize (😭) reader calls skz sex-crazed demons, she’s very confused but not irrational, there’s not many warnings besides for the smut— profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, annoying characters, insanely inexperienced reader, bet making, one-sided hatred, hyunjin wants to figure you out & thank god for that otherwise this series wouldn’t exist, sexual tension bottled up as hate bc yn is stupid. virgin/corruption kink, loss of virginity, overstimulation, dirty talking, unprotected sex…, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, teasing, breast play, and i think that’s it…

A/N: hi angels, i finished this in three days somehow and even though i didn’t plan on this being my post for 400, we hit it recently so this is it! and it’s fitting since a lot of people are waiting for this series <3 I hope you enjoy the first installment, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, my ask box, or in a reblog! & lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent one which is linked below! i hate writing the introduction to a fic and if you feel like this entire one-shot is pointless i promise it’s not 😭 there’s a lot of drama to come soon but i had to establish some things first!

i managed to make a playlist for this series! please enjoy 👩🏾‍💻

mlist; taglist; navi; | ⇦ previous | next ⇨

There are three things you hate more than anything.

Your english lit. professor

Frat parties

last, but most definitely not least, collegesluts. com and it’s founders.

It’s the literal bane of your existence, the reason why it’s so hard for you to sleep at night, and the one thing that makes your skin itch even more than the fuzzy sweaters your grandma knits every winter season.

Maybe if the creator of the site wasn’t such a douchebag, and maybe if the site users weren’t even worse, you wouldn’t abhor it as much as you did. But that’s a lot of maybes— ones that create a reality much different than your own and don’t make you feel much better.

You were first introduced to the hellsite in your second year of college— only made a year before. After you found out, age twenty hanging high over your head and no longer a fresh face in the school system, you’d tried and failed to get it shut down. Multiple times.

Happy, carefree people, would just ignore its existence— get on with their life, allow people to be college sluts in peace, but you couldn’t do that. Only you saw it for what it was, right? A sex site for college-goers to ruin their lives before it even started. Everyone else was too blissed out, a hand shoved in their pants every night as they watched their classmates fuck each other without fail. Only you could really see—

“Hello, can you hear!?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the voice behind you and your shoulders tighten when a finger pokes harshly at your skin.

“What?” You groan, rubbing the section of your arm that was unjustly abused. “Can you just be nice like a normal person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole so why would I be nice to you?”

“Fuck off Seungmin. What do you want?”

The only thing that betrays the fact that he heard you at all is the laugh that echoes behind you. Your chest tightens in response, and you fold your arms over your chest.

Kim Seungmin. A close fourth on your list of things you hate more than anything else. He was one of the users on the-site-that-must-not-be-named. A platinum member actually, a fact that always made your skin burn even in the coldest of weather. He was even friends with the site creators, and you wouldn’t doubt he had a hand in making it completely. He’d never been shy in supporting his use of the site, because nowadays regular cam sites were somehow uncool. He even had shirts with the college sluts logo in big, bold, letters. He was a part of one of the things you couldn’t stand. A big part of it even, but you ignored all that so you could call him your best— and one of your only— friends.

Kim Seungmin is first on the things you love, and that automatically removes him from the list of things you hate. When an arm slings itself across your shoulders you barely react, simply steering you both in the direction of your first class. It’s too early to deal with your best friend, and especially his toothy remarks and sarcasm, but you don’t say so and simply allow him to talk your ear off while you concern yourself with more important things.

Things like Hwang Hyunjin and Christopher Bang. The admins of College Sluts and the cause of the twitch in your brow. Sometimes the amount of hatred you felt for the two amazed you. To others, they were college boys— hotter than most, smart, talented, promiscuous. They had a good personality, a future, and were people a lot of other people got along with (and their other friends but you won’t get into that lest you pop a vessel).

To you, it’s agree to disagree. In short, they’ve got everyone totally fooled. Only sex-crazed low lifes actually managed to create a porn site. It’s one thing to think of it, sprawled around their dorm rooms knocked off their ass and barely sober, but it’s another thing to actually do it— work hard on it, execute such ideas— it’s completely baffling to you. How can no one see how perverted that is? You don’t even know what to call it, but the fire that erupts in your gut is enough to tell you that it’s bad.

There’s a bunch of girls and guys crowding around them, laughing and hugging and touching. Touching as if they were in the privacy of their home and not outside where others could see. It makes your chest heat up, and makes weird maggots swallow up your stomach, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake. You hate it. They’re demons. Sex-crazed demons.

“God, I’m starting to think you’re like anti-sex or something.”

You grunt.

“Literally we’re just walking by and you look like you’re contemplating murder.”

You hum.

“Jesus,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head before waving over at his friends. More like his sinner acquaintances. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not overly religious or particularly shameful— despite how you might seem— but it’s something about that entire group (Seungmin sometimes included) that makes you feel like breaking something. Choking something? Crying? Screaming? You’re not sure anymore.

When you catch Hyunjin’s eye he smirks and you frown. Just the sight of him is enough to make your head hurt and your knees weak. At least, that makes sense to you. The rest of the student body? Not so much.

You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and tear your gaze away from him. Your building isn’t much farther and if you squint really hard you can pretend you don’t see Hyunjin approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s a hot day and when he sidles up to you, shoulders almost touching, it gets much hotter.

“Hey,” he greets, slapping palms with Seungmin and holding one down low for you. Your hand hesitates, almost greeting him in return before you slap his arm and send a glare his way.

“Bye,” you grit, turning your head away from him and grabbing at Seungmin’s arm. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Loosen up!” He calls, his long legs easily catching up to your fast pace. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl.”

Your breath stutters the tiniest bit but you ignore it, not bothering to grant that remark an answer. Hyunjin is flirty. Too flirty. Stupid flirty. The kind of flirty that gets girls like you all riled up even when you’re supposed to be hating him, even when you’re supposed to curse the very ground he walks on, and it just makes the dreadful maggots in your system start up their annoying fluttering.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, even when your grip on his arm tightens at a painful rate. You will your heart to stop beating so damn hard and for your entire body to stop reacting so easily to him. You don’t even know him so why does he hold so much influence over you? Someone like him? Someone who spends their time and their intelligence on a haphazard college porn site? No. No way.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?”

The devil with the long brown hair, and soft cheeks, and cute dimples takes the chance to lean close to your ear, making sure you hear whatever it is he has to say.

“Don’t be too mad at me, bug. I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous today.” Hyunjin pats your cheek, smiling before he leans away, turning back the way he came.

“See you later.”

And that’s that. The sex demon comes to set your cheeks ablaze and leaves once he’s done, letting you deal with your muddled feelings on your own. Once you start walking again, ignoring the stare boring into your cheeks and the confusing pounding of your heart, there’s only three words on your mind.

Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.

There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything:

1. College

2. Back alley blowjobs

3. The frustratingly clear desire he has to fuck you silly.

Hyunjin isn’t sure when he realized it exactly. He doesn’t even know why he reacts to you so strongly. If you were anyone else he probably wouldn’t give you a second glance. He’s sure of it. Maybe it’s the desire to want something you can’t have, or the fact that you aren’t groveling at his feet.

It’s not like Hyunjin has any idea of why exactly you’re so hellbent on hating his guts, nor does he really care all that much. So you don’t like College Sluts, that’s your right as is anyone else’s, but it’s not like he’s shoving the damn shit in your face. He minds his business, manages his porn site, and does it all with a smile on his face. You, though? It’s a miracle he’s seen you smile once. And that was when he wasn’t paying attention and knocked into someone carrying a full tray of food.

Chan laughs at him all the time and so does Minho, wondering if he has some weird kink for wanting people who clearly don’t want him back, but more and more he’s thinking that isn’t the case. He’s always been bold, always been a bit flirty even when he wasn’t trying, and he knows he’s easy on the eyes. It’s not a secret, but your reaction to him isn’t one of disdain or clear attraction, but rather confusion, and that confuses him.

He flips the mic in his hands, switching between cradling it and flinging it every which way. The speakers of the karaoke system effectively drag him from his thoughts as the music gets louder and Jisung spins Felix around on their makeshift stage. Whoops and hollers echo from around them, the rest of their friends cheering at the performance in front of them. Hyunjin can’t bring himself to laugh even as a smile threatens to take hold of his features.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Jisung plops down beside him, slinging an arm around Hyunjin's shoulders as puffs of breath leave his lips. “You’ve been sitting here brooding. What’s going on?”

“I don’t brood,” Hyunjin argues, though he maneuvers his body so he can tell Jisung exactly what has him brooding. “It’s just— I’m still thinking about Y/n.”

“Bro.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to you?”

“Weird that she’s just not interested? This is a new low, Hyunjin. Not everyone is gonna be attracted to you—”

“I know, but that’s not what I’m saying. Doesn’t her whole attitude towards us seem a bit excessive? All over a website.”

“It’s not your typical website.”

“Sung, it’s probably one of the safest porn sites out there because of how exclusive it is. No one but students here can get on it.”

“Does she know that?”

“That’s my point,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair before starting again. “If she doesn’t even know the full details of the site, how can she possibly hate it? Hate us?”

Jisung pauses, looking back towards the stage. It’s true that all eight of them have thought about this at least once. They know there’s people who hate the website, who steer clear of it in all instances, but none who have made petitions and gone to the superintendent requesting an audience about it. No one who’s actively been so hateful to them specifically, refusing to look in their direction unless it’s to send a glare their way.

“Maybe there's another reason?” Jisung offers, sending Hyunjin a sideways glance. “I mean, maybe she just hates porn.”

Hyunjin snorts at that. How can anyone hate porn?

“You’re laughing but I’m dead serious. Has she ever even had a partner?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“You think about her 24/7. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew what she ate for breakfast.”

“Not fucking funny.”

Jisung barks out a laugh, falling over into Hyunjin’s space. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it soon.”

Hyunjin isn’t so sure but he nods anyway, allowing Jisung to go back to the stage for the next song. Hyunjin knocks back his drink, throat constricting barely at the bitter taste. He doesn’t care. He really doesn’t, but there’s something weird about your behavior and he’s more than determined to figure it out. Maybe he needs to just mind his business but fuck that, he thinks, no one is gonna hate him for no reason. Maybe he’s a little too riled up at that, maybe Jisung is right and this is a new low. Maybe he just really can’t deal with rejection well. Maybe.

Minho’s screeching into the mic does it’s hardest to ruin Hyunjin’s night, but the way the rest of his friends tackle him and attempt to steal the mic just makes him laugh, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. This is all he needs— his friends and a good drink to put a smile on his face. And the college porn site he worked very hard on, of course.

The group only gets through a few more songs before they decide to leave, deciding to ignore the fact that some of them have classes in six hours or that they’ll be nursing a bad headache for the entirety of it. Hyunjin is one of them. He laughs along with his friends as they walk, and he watches them from where he stands in the back.

Jisung has his phone out and is making a concerned face, typing furiously on the device. Either they’re having technical issues or his girlfriend is getting on his ass once again. Minho has an arm slung around his shoulders, laughing at whatever it is he’s typing and whoever it is that’s typing back. Next to them Felix and Jeongin have joined hands and Felix swings them back and forth, giggling as he does. Jeongin pretends he doesn’t like it, like usual, but Hyunjin notices the hint of a smile on his face. He always notices.

Chan and Changbin are quiet on either side of him, walking in the tranquil quiet that’s always rare for their group. It feels incomplete— Hyunjin wishes Seungmin could’ve come. He doesn’t know how the boy manages to be friends with the creators of the CSC and also be friends with its #1 hater. Maybe he’s selling secrets, telling you everything about the site, all its loopholes and glitches. Maybe he’s working against them now, coming up with a plan to shut them down once and for all, though Hyunjin doesn’t know if that’s possible.

Right after those thoughts trickle into his mind, he thinks about Seungmin wearing the handmade “merch” for the site, and doesn’t entertain them any longer. It would be ridiculous— even for him— to think that someone who repped college sluts like it was their brand would ever work even harder to tear it away.

The knot in his throat that’s been squeezing at his airways since earlier that night relaxes just a little. He’s never actually said this to anyone, but just as much as he thinks about why you hate him, he thinks about whether Seungmin will hate him too; about if he’ll lose a friend due to reasons he’s not even sure of. As much as he thinks about why you hate him so badly, he thinks about why he doesn’t hate you right back. He wonders why he— instead of wanting nothing to do with you— wants to know everything about you. Why he wants to understand you when you’ve made no effort to understand him, or worse, made up your own mind about who he is without even attempting to entertain the idea that maybe you’re wrong.

Hyunjin has lived his whole life suffering from other people's ideas of him, from their expectations that they held with no prior consultation with him, from the perfect picture of him in their minds that didn’t correlate with the real Hyunjin. He’s had his fair share of wondering, thinking, wanting. And it’s disappointing to see how even after all this time, since childhood, nothing has changed. He’s always wanted what he’s not allowed to have, but it’s not for lack of trying.

They don’t arrive at their frat house quick enough. As soon as the door opens into the building Hyunjin feels like falling asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’s also not sure what last happened on that couch. Between spilled drinks and sex that was too rushed to even make it to a bedroom he’d rather take his chances on an actual bed. Chan doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he comes in, and the seven of them shuffle around each other, spilling into the living room or into the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks as if they didn’t just come back from eating.

Hyunjin knows he’s been distant all night but he can’t be bothered to care as he sends a quick good night his friends’ way and makes his way upstairs. The house holds eight other boys besides them and he’s surprised none of them are downstairs or hanging around even at the late hour. Though, Hyunjin reasons, most of them have girlfriends and the few others that don’t are seniors and probably pull all-nighters in the library or some shit.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to think about that. The year only started back up again a few months ago, he doesn’t need to be thinking about work anymore than he already does. He makes a good living even without a real job, so he’s taking shit day by day. It’s not like anyone else is much different. Most of his seniors are cramming because they were so carefree. Hyunjin doesn’t think about the implications of that either.

The softness of his bed is long overdue and his body sinks into the plush bedding. He strips off his shirt and pants, not bothering to make his way to a shower or put pajamas on or do anything really. He has five hours before he needs to wake back up and this is nothing if not a power nap that won’t help him get through any lectures the next day. Or, later that day rather.

Hyunjin doesn’t concern himself with that though, because there’s only one thing that’s on his mind when he falls asleep and when he wakes up, and that’s what he’s going to say to you tomorrow morning in the first class of the day.

The first thing you manage to think of when you wake up is how best you’re going to ignore Hyunjin today. You’ve been brainstorming, wondering which response will humble him the best, maybe make him speechless for long enough that you can get away. If only those getaways could last forever, you sigh, pulling a fitted tee over your head. It’s low-cut, makes your cleavage pop just a little bit more, and you add a necklace for that exact reason.

You’re not the sex-crazed demon that the CSC most definitely are, but you do like a little attention every now and again even if you don’t get that much action. Or any, really, and you’re just fine with that. It’s one of the reasons why you don’t like the CSC. There’s no reason to sexify everything, and that’s exactly what they do. People can get by just fine without it.

Just fine? Seungmin would probably jab, but he’s not here right now and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are just fine, but the mention of the-site-that-must-not-be-named just fills your stomach with stones and ignites your nerves like nothing else does. To you, that’s more than enough proof that it’s the CSC’s fault— not yours.

Anyway, today is the day you have to see Hyunjin bright and early, which always manages to set your day off to a bad start. No one should have to deal with him at this time of day, or any time of day, and you pity the ones that do. Seeing Chan isn’t rare, but he doesn’t talk to you like Hyunjin does. He stares every now and again, gives you a lazy smirk, and is generally sexy as much as it pains you to admit it, but he doesn’t bother you. Though you know he probably talks about you. His stares are too knowing, way too insightful even when you don’t really know each other.

The rest of the boys you’ve talked to on a few occasions. They aren’t as insufferable, but they are associated with Hyunjin and Chan and are, in fact, involved in the upkeep of the-site-that-must-not-be-named. To you, that’s more than enough reason to at the least dislike them. You don’t hold soft spots for any of them, except maybe Felix who seems way too sweet to be a sex demon, but then again, it’s always the nice ones.

Besides, it doesn’t matter what they say to you or don’t say, or if they look at you or not, or if they even know you exist. It really doesn’t matter. You shake the thoughts from your head vigorously, ashamed at the fact that you spent the first hour of your morning on them. It’s unbecoming of you. It’s good to remind yourself not to actively concern yourself with any of them, and simply fight for the site’s demolition like you’ve been doing.

Seungmin says you have no life, but Seungmin also wears T-shirts with cartoonish, glittery pink boobs and the site’s name in glittery cursive letters. You don’t think Seungmin should have an opinion.

The last time you attempted to do anything about the site was roughly two months ago, a month after school started back. You took your time to settle in, fall into a routine, and get your work and classes in order before resuming your mission. It was arduous, brainstorming and juggling school work, but it was your responsibility since no one else would work hard enough.

A quick shuffle through any of your things would tell people you were a perfectionist— articulate in your placement of items and the way you did things. Even taking the time to plan certain outings to a T, determined to make sure everything goes well. It’s not a secret how obsessive you get over things and how uncomfortable or incomplete you feel when things don’t go your way, when you have to follow someone else’s idea of how things should work. It’s the reason why most people don’t get along with you because to them you’re too controlling, too compulsive and dominating.

When you were a child that fact had bothered you. It was confusing— that was just your nature, and you wouldn’t have survived your childhood without it based on the way your parents lived. When kids would shun you, treat you like something sticky at the bottom of their shoe, it hurt your young heart. You felt apologetic simply for acting the way you always felt like you should act, for doing the things that left you satisfied after. Now, in college, no one demands classmates to get along, no one can shun you in the cafeteria and force you to eat in the library. If they don’t like you it’s fine with you, frankly it doesn’t matter. You have one goal and one goal only, and once that’s over with you can move on.

When you step out of your dorm the sun is blinding, shining down with unforgiving rays of light. All you can do is squint, tilt your head down a little and wish you had a hat. The walk to the Art’s building is long, but feels longer with how warm it is. The heat shimmies its way under your clothes and into your skin, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

The scenery on the walk there is always breathtaking though, the pavement that makes up the pathway to the building is closed in by blades of grass that have been cut and trimmed to perfection. Rocks make up the border between them— large smooth stones that vary in size but are more or less the same oval shape. There’s an entire garden full of all types of flowers, Gardenias, Lilies, Irises, Tulips, and even some you can’t name. At the entrance of the building there are bright lights that illuminate at least 25 feet in front of it at night, and wide hedges that have been designed to look like swans, their necks curved in a way that if they were moved next to each other they’d be forming a heart. White flowers grow inside the hedges serving to make the entire scene look more beautiful, and as much as you hate walking there, the view is unmatched.

The Art building has always been your safe haven, Art in general being your home away from home. It took a long time for you to feel comfortable studying it— always caught up in the what if. What if you can’t make a living from it? What if you end up not liking it as you grow older? What if it’s not a sustainable career? Questions that still plague you often, and stop you from putting as much of your heart in it as you’d wish. These classes are somewhat self-indulgent. A way for you to escape from the hectic mess that is your life, away from the stress of work, from the anxiety of what comes next, and from the infuriating instances that continue without your control— away from the things you can’t control so you can run to things you can. So imagine your horror when you found out Hwang Hyunjin was in the same class as you. At the same time. Doing the same thing.

It felt like your escape wasn’t yours anymore, and that the stress from your day followed you everywhere you went. It wasn’t enough for Hyunjin to pester you often— he had to be everywhere you were too.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, setting your shoulders and regain the poise you take pride in– carrying yourself with the confidence you wish you had. It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the entrance of the building, as you walk, having been kissed by the scorching light of the sun and brushed against by dewy blades of grass. It feels surreal and staggering to be outside alone so early in the morning, yet peaceful, for you know that it will be long before you get this chance again.

“Bug!”

Oh no. no no no. You walk faster, hoping to make it inside before Hyunjin can catch up to you. Hyunjin is never this early. He either comes right on time or late to the frustration of your teachers and peers although no one would ever say it to his face. You can hear his feet against the pavement louder and louder as he comes closer to you, catching up just when you take the first step up the stairs to the entrance.

“You didn’t hear me, bug?”

“Stop calling me bug.”

“Sorry, bug,” Hyunjin laughs, putting a heavy arm over your shoulders and bringing you closer.

You roll your eyes so hard it feels like they’re gonna stick. Maybe they should so you don’t ever have to see Hyunjin again. Maybe he’d think you look scary like that, your eyes rolled up forever. Maybe then he’d leave you alone.

Hyunjin is annoying. He always acts like you’re his friend, but you know it’s fake because why would he want to be friends with you, someone who hates everything he works hard on and hates him as well to an extent. It seems overly fake and forced to you, so you don’t ever entertain it. The last thing you need is to fall for it and then be made out to look like an idiot when he eventually embarrasses you.

“It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early, pretty.”

“It’s always too early to be dealing with you,” You groan, wrenching his arm away from where it laid over your shoulders. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asks, seemingly unaffected by your attitude towards him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised up to his chin in a shrug. “I like talking to you.”

You snort, looking up at him with eyebrows raised, “You like talking to me, the one person— possibly in this world— who absolutely hates you, and barely spares you the time of day?” You ask, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’m sure this is the longest we’ve ever had a conversation, but nice try.” You squeeze his cheeks, hard, and when he swats your hand away you can’t help the giggle that you let out. If his cheeks felt like dough under your fingers you’re choosing to ignore that, wiping a hand on your jeans with way more intensity than needed.

“But see,” Hyunjin starts again, “We’re having a conversation right now and neither of us wanna choke each other.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m barely resisting the urge to punt your head like a baseball.”

It’s silent for a moment before you both burst out into a fit of giggles. Hyunjin braces himself against his knees as he laughs, his hair falling over his face as he does, and you’re not much better— staggering where you stand to laugh with him. It only takes a few seconds for you both to calm down, and slowly the reality of what happened catches up to you.

“Do you even punt baseballs?” Hyunjin snorts, and you just laugh harder.

“I don’t know, Hyunjin, if you haven’t noticed I’m at the arts building not sports.” You wheeze, fighting through another laugh. “Now I’m just imagining your head flying over the gardens.”

Hyunjin lets out another chuckle but shivers a bit at the thought. He waits for you to calm down, your giggles turning into small huffs. A hint of a smile still remains on your cheeks, and the sun shines down so strongly on your features it feels like he’s seeing an angel— like divinity right in front of his eyes. When you straighten up, he can see every movement. The way you position your bag upright, the way a bit of your gums poke out from your lips. Your lips, soft, glossy, and look the most perfect in a smile. He can see the way your eyebrows lose the tension from your laughing fit, the way the crinkle of your eyes lessen as your face relaxes. He can see everything, so he can also see when your lips fall back into a firm line, when your eyebrows go back to that angry stance they always hold when you’re around him. The way your shoulders stiffen, and the grip on your bag tightens. He can see everything, and he reminds himself the only time you laugh is when he’s the butt of the joke.

“I’m going to class,” You murmur, walking the rest of the way up the stairs and into the building without looking back or waiting for him to respond. Though Hyunjin wonders what he would’ve even said.

I’ll come with you.

We can sit together.

No, you both can’t do anything together, and more and more Hyunjin wonders why he even wants to.

“You were laughing with Hwang Hyunjin? The sex demon??” Your friend hisses from next to you, stringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You?”

“Yes, me, Jieun.” You huff. “I can barely believe it either. What did he do to me? I hate him, I can’t show weakness by laughing around him.”

“Honey,” Jieun laughs, leaning towards you, “You can laugh. Honestly the fact that you ran away after is hilarious.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“You ran away.”

“I didn’t run.”

Jieun settles on you with a heavy stare, face slack, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, I walked away.”

“I don’t know how either of you take each other seriously.”

“I don’t take him seriously.”

“Yeah you do, babe. You refuse to laugh around him. That’s very serious.”

You snort.

“And the fact that he gives you the time of day when this is the dumbest feud possible… I just don’t understand it.”

“It’s not dumb.” You sputter, smoothing your hand over the glossy wooden desk of the classroom. “It’s…” You trail off, staring into the large windows at the side of the room. You cock your head and lean forward, jaw slack when the sex demon himself waves outside. “Oh what a stalker.” You growl, throwing up the middle finger in his direction. “He’s got his little posse following him too.”

When Jieun makes to wave back you smack the back of her head and groan when she gives you an affronted look.

“What was that for?” Jieun exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of her head.

“Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” You hiss, folding your arms over your chest and staring back at your professor.

“Are you gonna explain the feud—”

“No.”

In your opinion, class doesn’t end quickly enough. You split with Jieun at the entrance, the both of you going in opposite directions, and attempt to reorder your frazzled mind. So you laughed. A lot of people laugh at people they hate. Plus, he laughed too— so why should you be overthinking it? You’ve laughed before, in situations you weren’t supposed to, and this is no different. Now you just need to make sure it never happens again. You nod to yourself as you walk, pulling out your phone to make sure Seungmin is already at the meeting spot.

The sun is still just as ruthless as it was earlier, but a light breeze grazes your skin and rustles the trees along the sidewalk and in the field in front of you. There’s a bunch of picnic tables, some occupied and some of them not. There’s groups of friends sitting under trees, some couples, some of them alone; reading or completing assignments in the nice weather. You spot Seungmin a few tables down, a brown sweater over a collared shirt and cute glasses perched upon his nose.

You take your time walking to the table, letting your skin soak in the warmth and tranquil peace of nature. When Seungmin spots you he shuffles over, giving you some space to sit next to him and you do, mumbling a small hey before knocking your head against the table.

“You’re going to a party with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Seungmin… Hi, how are you? How was your day? No, I’m not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Well, unless you’re going to drag me, no I’m not.”

“I just might,” Seungmin sighs, “Why are you so difficult?”

“Difficult? You’re the one being difficult. I don’t want to go and you’re telling me it’s not a choice.”

“Because it’s not.”

You let out a groan, a long torturous one that has people turning their head to a straight faced Seungmin and you who’s head is still knocked against the table. When people think it’s stopped it starts all over again, a guttural groan filled with displeasure and frustration that loosens your chest when it’s done.

“Are you done?”

“Leave me alone.”

“It’s on Saturday. I can pick you up.” Seungmin says instead of arguing.

“Today’s Thursday.” You whine, just stopping yourself from letting out another groan— one that wouldn’t ever stop for as long as you have to deal with Kim Seungmin and his annoying, snarky, bossy self.

“…. I’m aware.” Seungmin says, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s making a face like and so what?

“I can’t stand you, I hope you know that. No type of warning, no preparation… I don’t party. I need at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself and another two weeks to get an outfit.”

“Damn.” Seungmin says, but he rubs a hand against your back, lightly pushing you to lift your head from the table. “Listen, I’ll help you. And it’s being thrown by people I know so you don’t have to worry. I don’t think many people throw college parties a month in advance but I’ll keep that in mind.”

All you can do is nod, waiting patiently as Seungmin finishes whatever assignment he’s working on. You’ve already completed the ones you have, the pro of not having much else to do and being on top of things always. Everyday you both meet up here, either at a table or under one of the trees and talk. Read, finish assignments, or even eat snacks. There have been some times where you meet there and then go somewhere else together, rarely off campus but it happens, and you get something to eat or go on a mini adventure. It’s the highlight of your day and you’re sure it is for Seungmin too, but you’d never admit that to each other. You don’t have to, though, because you’re both always on the same wavelength especially when it counts the most.

Though now he’s given you something else to worry about, that being this sudden party. It’s no doubt being held by a frat house, and you have an inkling which house it is. You haven’t asked, trying not to pop the bubble of secureness that surrounds you. You can go to a party being held by the CSC. You can, and you will, and if it isn’t being held by them then that’s even better. You try to convince yourself you really don’t care at all, but the thought remains. Can you really enjoy yourself at a party being held by them? You don’t know why it bothers you so much or why you feel so uncomfortable having a good time around them, but you just keep repeating the same thing to yourself over and over. It doesn’t matter.

“Jieun told me what happened this morning.”

“Of course she did.” You sigh, staring ahead at the group of squirrels running up a tree. The people under it startle when leaves start to fall over their heads. “We just left each other, how did she find the time to text you all that?”

“She called me,” Seungmin cackles, braces on full display as he scribbles furiously into his notebook. “Every story I hear about you and Hyunjin is against my will.”

“Every interaction between me and Hyunjin is against my will,” You counter, shifting so that you face him. “What did she say?”

“That you laughed with him and it embarrassed you. That you’re confused about your feelings towards him.”

“So are you two my therapists now? I’m not confused. I don’t like the things he does— I don’t like his carefree attitude, how he has no problem talking to me like we’re friends. I don’t like- No, I hate the fact that so many people fucking praise him because he created some crude porn site.”

Your heart rate picks up, your hand gripping at your jeans as a poor attempt to conceal your growing frustration. “I don’t like the fact that no one else sees what’s wrong with it. We shouldn’t have a fucking porn site for college students? I don’t think we should know what we all look like under our clothes and I’m tired of everyone acting like I'm the crazy one. He’s the perverted one, the weird one. Who the fuck thinks of something like that? It’s not just him, it’s all of them.”

Seungmin ponders your words, the grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly. “Hyunjin is a good guy. All of them are, and if that’s how you feel then why do you talk to me? I use the site, I'm their friend, I’ve helped them out when making it. Aren’t I weird and perverted too?”

You sigh, “Seungmin…”

“Help me understand. Because if you can stand to be around me, then why can’t you be around them? Or try.”

“It isn’t the same and you know it. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s you. That’s them. They are the CSC to me. A reminder of everything I hate, what I want to get rid of.”

“But why the hell does it matter? People want to use the site and that’s why they do. No one is fucking forcing it.”

“You guys just don’t understand it. None of you do. It’s like you’re blinded by it or something.”

“We’re grown adults, Y/N,” Seungmin growls, “We don’t need you to be a guardian fucking angel.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, just because all you fucking care about is sex or some college sluts, like can you actually be that shallow?”

“Why is it so hard for you to see reason? Do you see how angry you’re getting at me for asking a simple question? You asked me what Jieun said and I told you.” Seungmin spits, shutting his book with a slam.

“Stop asking me about that site. Stop making me seem like some confused hateful person just because you’re too dense to understand where I’m coming from. I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel. I try not to bring it up because you like the damn thing so much, and you can’t seem to hold the same courtesy for me.” You stand from the seat, settling a dark glare at Seungmin’s angered form.

“Fuck your friends, fuck that site. Stop talking about me like I need guidance.”

You’re not irrational. You’re not. You have every right to be angry. Seungmin is your friend. Jieun is your friend. They’re supposed to be there for you, not gang up on you. You feel alone, so alone in everything you fight for, in everything you aim to conquer— as if the things you stand for don’t matter. It reminds you of middle school all over again, of high school— having people look at you like you were something from another planet. Someone people had always failed to understand. It’s lonely. You’re not irrational.

You didn’t blow up. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated, yes, but you don’t blow up. You don’t get mad. You aren’t irrational. Anyone else in your position would feel the same, right? Anyone else would be upset because it feels like your friends always take the side of the people you despise more than anyone else. Why aren’t they on your side? Why don’t they believe you? Why don’t they understand? It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel like you have no right to feel the way you do. It’s lonely.

You’ve never been irrational. You’ve always had a good grip on your feelings. Always. And when it feels like the grip loosens it’s always the cause of something relating to the CSC. It’s proof that it’s what the root of your problems is. It’s proof that the CSC needs to be gone so you can finally go back to normal. So you don’t feel like the odd one out. So you don’t have to feel so upset. Because you’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way. You don’t get mad. You’re not angry. You don’t blow up.

You control everything, you control your actions, your emotions, and you make sure to hold control over your environment— of how things play out for every second of your life. This feels like it’s running out of control. That the CSC brings havoc in your life no matter what— even when you try to ignore it, it comes running back to fuck you over even further. You’re not irrational. You’re not confused. You don’t get mad. You don’t. You don’t blow up. You control everything.

The sun hides right when you need it. You pretend tears don’t blur your vision, you pretend that the suddenly gloomy environment doesn’t affect you the way it does. You pretend that the once comforting breeze doesn’t feel sharp against your exposed skin. You pretend because when things run out of control that’s all you can do. Pretend you’ve got it handled, pretend that you still have a grip on things, pretend that you understand. You’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way.

You never argue with Seungmin. Playful bickering from time to time or you two being rude to each other but always playfully. You’ve never cursed at him so maliciously, spoken to him like he was someone random, as if he wasn’t your best friend. You’ve never done those things— but you do when the CSC is involved. You never get pissed at Jieun, even when she’s annoying, even when she acts like the only thing important in life is the new boy she’s talking to— You don’t get mad. You’re not mad now, but you’re something. Something fiery, and everything always goes back to the CSC. You’re not irrational. You’re just the only one who understands.

Right when you see the blurry form of your dorm building it gets blocked by a large body and you slam right into its chest. You can barely see in front of you and you know your face is screwed up into the worst form imaginable, tears falling with no control. Without your control.

“Sorry, excuse me,” You laugh wetly, sidestepping whoever is blocking your way and running up the steps to your dorm. The sooner you fall into your bed and cry this out, the sooner you can forget about it. The sooner you can apologize and move past this weird limbo of feelings. It feels like purgatory, stuck in the in between, not sure which direction you’ll end up going in. It’s full of unsureness, of frustration. It feels like a loss of control. It angers you, makes you feel like nothing is going right.

But you don’t get angry. You’re not irrational. You don’t get mad. You pretend, because that’s all you can do.

Hyunjin is confused.

The last thing he expected to see this morning was you laughing, but now, he realizes the last thing he ever expected to see was you crying. Eyes glossy with tears, a nose rubbed raw, face screwed up into something pitiful.

Hyunjin doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t expect a lot of things, but most of all he doesn’t know how to continue after seeing it. He doesn’t expect to care so much, not after the way you’ve regarded him. After the way you’ve both regarded each other. He doesn’t know why he can’t walk away and say nothing when he knows he should. If he brings it up you’ll get defensive, be embarrassed, be angry. He shouldn’t say anything.

He keeps walking, frowning slightly at the gloomy clouds. It was so sunny less than an hour ago. Things change so quickly, it doesn’t make any sense. He thinks back to earlier that morning, the light that shone on your face with every laugh you let out. He thinks back to just a few seconds ago. How dark shadows fell over your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

The walk is more automatic than anything else. He doesn’t take the time to stare at the scenery, he doesn’t look at the people around him. He barely sees the ground in front of him as he walks, his mind not registering what’s right in front of his face. He’s too caught up in you. Like usual, wondering why you do the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, wanting to understand. What did he do? What can he do to make you feel better? How can he make you hate him any less? He wants to understand, he wants to listen, to talk to you, to be near you. It confuses him.

His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s chan, texting about the party on Saturday, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s so tired, tired of running around for parties, tired of attending to the site, tired of waking up early for classes. He just wants a second to sit down and relax, to not worry about you ruining the one thing he’s worked hard for, to not worry about what class he’s flunking, about what party he’s expected to attend, to not worry about why you were crying in the middle of the afternoon. He just wants a moment to collect his thoughts and free his mind.

HJ: I got it

BC: alr cool, put it in the cabinet with the lock, you know how Hyunjoon gets

HJ: Fuck, is it that bad?

BC: he’s an alcoholic bud, it’s that bad.

Hyunjin laughs a little, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He wonders if Seungmin told you about the party yet and grimaces, wondering if that’s the reason why you were crying. If it is, he’s not sure who needs to get a grip. You, for hating him so bad, or him for continuing to try and get you not to. It takes a lot of effort for him to continue the power walk back to the frat, but he arrives sooner than later, stuffing the bag of drinks inside the cabinet and locking it shut. He thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that they have to lock the alcohol up as if they have small kids running around, and also wonders the effectiveness when Hyunjoon lives in a frat house and is an adult who can buy his own alcohol.

It’s Thursday afternoon but he finds that he’s not as excited for a party as he should be. Usually, he’d be bouncing on his heels, counting down the hours for it to start, and realizing he’s so caught up in everything else going around he doesn’t feel that normal excitement that he so often does. He makes sure to fix that, shaking the unnecessary thoughts from his head, pushing responsibilities to later. He has a party to prepare for and he's gonna act like it.

The rest of the boys don’t get back till later— they’d given Hyunjin the responsibility of buying cups and drinks and shitty snacks while they went off somewhere else. Hyunjin can’t keep track of what they do especially if he’s not joining, so he focuses on doing what he’s supposed to in order to make this the best party of the year so far. His frat has always held the record of best parties— has always held their winnings in high regard as well, and he’ll be damned if he gets the cold shoulder if he’s the reason the party isn’t as good as it should be. Most of all, he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do during it.

Hyunjin is not shy on having sex— never has been, never will be, and more often than not he’s having it. Sure, that may be expected since he made a literal porn site, but Jisung also had a hand in it and he has a girlfriend. Felix doesn’t have one-night stands often, nor does Seungmin. It’s different for all of them.

He knows there’s a few girls that have been actively trying to get in his pants, knows that he’s been trying to get into theirs, but he can only hope he can focus on them for long enough to do so without thinking about you. If you come, he knows that there’s no chance he’ll think of anything else, and he’ll probably spend the entire night just getting you to laugh again. To get you to explain to him why. why why why. It’s confusing, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.

Thursday comes and goes too quickly, and Friday does as well. The day isn’t over yet, it’s only the afternoon, but the implications of that make you anxious. Make your nerves ignite far more than they should.

Seungmin didn’t answer your calls for the rest of that Thursday. Didn’t read or respond to a single text until you decided to leave him alone. Jieun called, but you didn’t answer. You think the way you felt towards her is the way Seungmin felt towards you. Maybe something worse, so you gave him space and took some for yourself, a moment to really think about what made you react the way you did. You don’t think you’re in the wrong, you still don’t think you could’ve reacted any other way and you’re not sure what that says about you.

You take another bite of your sandwich as you walk down the street from the Art store, your phone cradled in your other hand and a drink poking out from the opening in your bag. It’s hard to mentally prepare for things that you don’t know anything about. You don’t know where the party is, who’s hosting it, how long you’re expected to stay. Thought that’s if you’re even still going. You want to take Seungmin’s silence as an answer that no, you aren’t, but you also don’t want to assume that and then he shows up at your door and you’re not ready.

You don’t want to go, not at all, but if it made Seungmin happy then you would. If he didn’t come to pick you up you briefly entertained finding your own way to the party and cornering him, forcing him to hear your apology before leaving and soaking your pillow with tears. But you don’t know where the party is. You also briefly entertained the idea of calling Jieun and asking her, but you’re not interested in the lecture that would come from that. You still don’t appreciate her words about you to Seungmin and the implication of them. Seungmin is your friend, you can tell him what happened all by yourself. You don't need Jieun to play messenger.

You swallow the last of your lunch and throw the wrapper in the nearest trash can. You want to start a new painting, one that can unleash the frustrations of your life as it is right now, and you can only do that by getting some new supplies. You save up constantly for this exact reason— for the ability to buy whatever your heart desires whenever it desires it. You dip your toes into whatever interests you, and all concepts of Art satisfies you more than anything. Writing whatever you desire, taking pictures of the things you find beautiful, painting whatever you want— it gives you the control that fuels you more than anything else.

The art shop by your university is quaint, always quiet and never very full, yet always filled with high quality supplies and fully stocked. You’ve made friends with the old lady who owns it and her daughter, constantly going there just to buy something in order to catch up with them on whatever has happened since your last visit. They’re like the mother and sister you never had, people who feel more like family than your own. It’s partly for that reason that you’ve made the trek there, hoping to get some advice for the things you’ve been feeling before going to the party that’s undoubtedly being held by the one group of people you despise.

The bells above the door jingle when you step in, and you let the smell of paint, chalk, crayons, pens, and faint air freshener soothe you. It’s just as cluttered as it’s always been— stacks upon stacks of sketchbooks and canvases on one side situated next to the easels and small desks. The paints have a section of their own, oil, watercolor, acrylic, matte, and more— on the opposite side there’s pens and crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, and sharpeners of all shapes and sizes.

The walls are covered in paint as if before bringing in all the items they’d had fun splattering the walls in color. It’s messy, unruly, cluttered, and barely organized— so it doesn’t make sense to you why it comforts you so much. When you see a small form hobble out from behind a stack of books a smile forms unbiddenly on your face, and the small old lady smiles back.

“I missed you, dear,” She scolds, wrapping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit.”

“I know, I’ve just been busy Ms. Yang. I missed you.” You sigh, rubbing your nose in the soft fabric of her sweater. She smells like paint and flowers— she smells like home.

“Sam will be here soon, she’d love to see you.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I need to talk to her too.”

“I can tell, child. You look stressed.” She sighs, shuffling behind the counter and sitting on one of the other seats behind it. “Get what you’re looking for,” She says waving a hand dismissively towards you.” I won’t make you explain it twice.”

You huff lightheartedly, making your way over to the canvases and picking one of medium proportions. You’re still not sure what it is you want to paint, but you know whatever you’re feeling is strong enough that you grab Oil paint, needing something rich and vibrant and something sharper to contrast the muddled and cloudy image of your mind.

It’s before long that you settle on a brand you normally buy, and the set of bells signal someone’s arrival into the shop. You turn your head, expecting to see Sam and her long curly hair, beautiful in its volume and her tawny brown skin, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of straight brown hair, swept behind the ears of a tall man, a mole under his eye and the reason for all your problems. You don’t know why you react the way you do, but with your items cradled in your hand you sprint behind a large stack of sketchbooks and hold your breath, staring with wide eyes at the cans of paint at your feet.

What the fuck is Hwang Hyunjin doing at your shop? This is your safe place— your safe haven. A part of you curses the ground he walks on, hopes that the store is too messy and cluttered for his liking, prays that he proves he’s as shallow as the company he keeps and that he leaves and doesn’t come back. Another part of you hates yourself for being so ridiculous. For letting your personal feelings about him delve so far that you’d think something like that. Sam and Mrs.Yang deserve the business, deserve the money, deserve the customers. You shouldn’t hope for anything different— but it still amazes you how he never fails to intrude on the things you hold dear. To intrude on the things you want to keep to yourself.

You don’t move from the spot you’re in. It could’ve been ten minutes, an hour, even, or maybe it was only thirty seconds, but you only peek out when you hear Sam’s voice ring through the shop. You survey the room, stepping out from your hiding spot when you confirm that Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. Though, you don’t think you could’ve hid regardless by the way Sam calls your name.

“Hi, Sammy,” You smile, coming up to pull her into a hug. She grips you tightly, her kinky hair tickling your cheek and her clothes smelling faintly of vanilla and roses. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hun,” Sam smiles, albeit a little sadly as she looks over your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, don’t leave a poor old lady out,” Mrs. Yang huffs, “Come over here and tell us both about it.”

Without even saying anything they’ve already cheered you up, your steps feeling lighter as you make your way behind the counter and sit on one of the three seats. You sit between them both, their eyes set patiently but concerningly on you.

“I don’t know, really,” You start, and then, you tell them. About your argument with Seungmin, about how lonely it is feeling like you’re the only one feeling this way, about how much the site angers you— how it makes you feel. You tell them about Hyunjin, about how he doesn’t stop bothering you no matter how much you make it obvious you don’t want his company. How much that frustrates you, as well, and about how the lack of control over the entire situation, and over the CSC’s place in your life makes you uncomfortable, and about how the CSC itself makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and how much that scares you. You can barely describe the way it does, and who else can you blame besides its creators.

When you’re done it feels like you’ve vented a lifelong event, it makes a heavy weight lift itself off your shoulders and the heavy silence that remains doesn’t feel like judging, but rather them trying to understand— soaking up the meaning of every word you said in an attempt to place themselves in your shoes.

“I think,” Sam starts, “That your cluelessness about your feelings towards the site in general turns into anger, and the fact that the boy,”

“Hyunjin”, You offer.

“Yes, I think his attempts at speaking to you only worsen it somehow, like you’re being cornered by this weird feeling that you don’t understand and it makes you even angrier.”

“You said your friend is a part of it?” Mrs.Yang interjects, a wrinkly hand kneading your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s good friends with the group and he loves the website.”

“That probably doesn’t help then,” She continues, “If you’re surrounded by people who know what they like or enjoy something you don’t like or don’t understand, of course you’re going to feel angry. You feel like the odd one out.”

“I think more than anything you need to figure out if it’s really anger you’re feeling, and if the only reason why you hate this website is not because of its purpose but because of your lack of control over it.” Sam finishes.

“I can’t say I agree with it either,” Mrs.Yang grunts, “It’s not something I think college students need to be worrying about. Things like that stick with you, but it’s their choice to indulge in it, Y/n, you can’t control that.”

You sigh. You guess so, but you still feel like you need to get rid of it. You’ve been slacking, not paying attention to it as much as you should because of all the chaos it’s creating. It’s been a while since you’ve done a petition or made a list of ideas as an attempt to shut it down, but for now it seems like enough to just hate it. They can’t change your mind. Not Seungmin, not Sam, not Jieun, not Mrs.Yang, not Chan or Changbin or Minho— not any of them, and especially not Hyunjin. You just want to be hateful in peace and you don’t know why you don’t seem to be allowed to do that.

You leave the shop feeling lighter, but also like you didn’t actually get any good advice. Sure they validated your feelings, but that’s it. You’ve been trying to figure out your feelings. You know why you’re frustrated, and even though it felt good to be validated it also felt like a waste. You hold the bag of art supplies closer to you as you walk. The sun is setting, painting the sky reds, and oranges, and purples— and you think maybe you’ll paint that. To represent the end of the turmoil that surrounds you, as something hopeful.

You relish in the soft slope of your shoulders, in the relaxation you so rarely feel nowadays, and walk briskly to your dorm so you can fall into your bed and try to forget about the fact that there’s a party you’re supposed to be at tomorrow.

And as if the thought brought it on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out quicker than you’d ever admit and a relieved smile pulls on your lips when you see it’s from Seungmin.

pup: be ready by 9

you: ok!!!!!

you: i miss you

There’s no more responses but you don’t let that dampen your mood. He still wants you to go with him and that says enough. You do feel terrible about the way you acted— the way you’ve been acting— but you know it’s justified. You’re not irrational. Not at all.

If you collapse at the foot of your bed, art supplies sitting on the floor by your feet, and a paper by your head titled #686, no one has to know.

This Saturday has not been a day of relaxation for you. You didn’t have any plans, though instead of enjoying the peace you so rarely received, the day consisted of you running around your room with a frazzled energy following behind like a ghost. At first you contemplated showing up in a sweater and jeans; no makeup, no jewelry, just you and a lazy fit— but realized that would only bring you even more stares than if you dressed as slutily as possible.

It’s with a black leather mini skirt and a black, lacy, low cut long sleeve tucked inside that you finally allow yourself to relax. You’re probably dressed way too flashily for a college party, but you can’t entertain any thoughts like that or you’ll spend the next three hours obsessing over it— and that’s three hours that you don’t have. Knee length boots stare at you from the door and it’s with a sigh that you walk to the door and put them on.

There’s more reasons to be nervous than just the party, between the inevitable walk with Seungmin to the encounter you’re most definitely going to have with the CSC and all of its users, you’re out of your element. There’s not enough deep breaths to make you calm down, there’s no method available to help clear your mind. Your heart races much more than should be healthy. It feels like hell, even, and all you can do is let this plethora of nerves run its course.

When your phone buzzes with Seungmin’s ‘I’m outside’ text, it almost feels like your heart stops. Fuck, Seungmin’s gonna ask who you’re all dressed up for, gonna ask why you’re so nervous. Why are you all dressed up? Why are you even going? It’s too much, too much of not knowing, not understanding, not feeling right. What will it take to get you to feel right? Like in freshman year when your biggest worry was whether or not you were passing your classes, now it feels like that's a lifetime ago. Like you’ve encountered way too much to even consider anything like that— not that you need to worry about it anyway. It was supposed to be a carefree year for you. You’re always on top of your responsibilities, always prepared, and nothing ever changed that until you went on that site for the first and last time.

You stop, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath that’s otherwise pointless, and step out the door. You curse the day you ever went on that website. It’s why everything is all messed up now, but you rid those thoughts from your mind. You’re determined to have fun tonight no matter what, and no matter who’s there.

Seungmin waits at the door, A button-down hanging off his shoulders and jeans. His hair is combed back and he’s ditched the glasses.

“Hey.” It comes out meeker than you’d like, a little too timid for what your relationship with Seungmin is.

“Hey,” he smiles, the braces you love so much on full display. Your best friend is beautiful, and it’s with a pang to your chest, it’s with seeing him now— so welcoming and so normal with you— that a small part of you realizes maybe you have been being irrational. Maybe you have been acting too strongly, but then you remind yourself that you’ve never been irrational. Never.

“So I’m guessing we’re going to the CSC’s dorm?”

“You’ll fit right in,” Seungmin laughs, starting to walk. You struggle to catch up to him; it’s been so long since you last wore heels that it’s hard to get used to. You don’t grace his comment with an answer, simply relishing in the soft nightly breeze and the shine of the moon. The stars glitter from above you, light years away yet so visible. So sure of their stance in life. You don’t think stars blow up at their best friends, or feel confused, or feel lonely.

You arrive at the party all too soon. From a block away you could see people drunk, staggering in the same direction, and from down the street you could hear the bass of the music, but the warning signs weren’t nearly enough to prepare you for the actual sight of it. It’s like the typical house parties you’d see on TV, but louder and more nerve-wracking. People hang out in front, the music loud enough for them to enjoy even from outside the building. Lights flash from behind the window, an array of purples, greens, reds, and blues. You can see people's shadows from behind the curtains over the front windows, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

“Oh god,” You mumble, taking a few shaky steps inside. You can't do this. You’re gonna freak out and embarrass yourself. You can almost feel the anxiety seeping from your pores, and the word no repeats over and over in your head like a mantra.

No no no no no.

You can’t do this, but you do it anyway. Stepping inside the party is a feat in itself, and you can’t tell if your hands are shaking from the strong bass of the music or because of pure anxiety. The music knocks into your body so strongly that your knees buckle, barely able to hold you upright. At any moment you feel like you might collapse.

You can’t do it but you do it anyway, taking one step and then another, and when the door closes behind you, you resist the urge to turn back and run away. The party is full of people— so full that it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone, and despite your best efforts you do get stares. Whether it’s because of what you’re wearing or if it’s because it’s you at a party being held by the CSC… you’re not entirely sure. You don’t think it makes a difference. You try to ignore it, act unbothered, and it must work because after a while they look away, murmuring something or the other about what you’re doing there.

Seungmin drags you away from the door and to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets like it’s his home. You take in the somewhat chill vibe of the kitchen compared to everywhere else. It’s not nearly as full, but there are couples at opposite ends acting as if it isn’t a place where food is kept.

You take a few deep breaths, reassure yourself that you can do this, and even if you can’t you’ll do it anyway. Seungmin doesn’t say anything, just pours you something sweet and fruity in a red cup and hands it over with a raise of his eyebrows. You drink it way too quickly and you know you’re gonna regret it later, but you need the effect it’ll bring. The faux calmness that’ll help you get through the night. Though with how full the party is you think that you won’t be able to see the hosts anytime soon if at all, and that’s enough to bring your heart to a stuttering stop before it resumes its beating in a much more slow paced manner. You’re still not calm, but you’re doing your best.

“Try to relax,” Seungmin chides, his gaze heavy where it bores into you. “Everything will be just fine.”

You nod, taking a more calculated sip of your drink this time. You let the music relax you instead of startle you— focusing on the beats and the melody— on the lyrics, instead of the volume and how it makes your body tremble. You can do this.

When you finally feel like you’re able to relax, Seungmin parts from you, saying there’s some people he has to see. You’re an adult, so you can handle being alone for a few minutes. Eventually, though, the few minutes turn into something longer. You wonder if maybe Seungmin is still upset with you— you didn’t speak much about it on the walk like you thought you would. Honestly, it was mostly silence, and you didn’t think much of it before but you are now. You hold your drink close to your chest, dubbing it your life line for the night.

You last all of thirty minutes before you feel like you’re getting too hot— the building only gets even more stuffy as more people arrive, all of you packaged like a can of sardines. You take the fleeting burst of confidence to leave the kitchen and go to the backyard, hoping that it’ll be a bit more peaceful (as peaceful as possible considering the music blasting), and allow the fresh air to graze your skin like a soft blanket. You sit down on one of the benches in the backyard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. What will it take to feel at peace? Maybe there’s nothing you can do. And it’s with these thoughts that you do exactly what you shouldn’t do at a party, wallowing in self pity and confusion. You’re so caught up in these thoughts that you don’t notice when someone else joins you.

“Hey, bug.”

Your head whips up faster than what’s comfortable, and you barely hide the wince that struggles to leave your lips. Hyunjin speaks again before you can respond.

“Don’t leave, alright. Please?” He asks, sitting down beside you and smoothing his hands over his pants. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“About us? About you? I’m tired of running in circles and I want to know why you hate me— the CSC so much.”

You’re silent for a moment, contemplating, thinking. You should get up, leave the backyard and this party altogether. You should ignore whatever it is Hyunjin has to say because he’s the reason for all this, right? Why is he always pretending he doesn’t know; acting like he wants to get to know you? Acting like it really matters how you feel. Everyone wants to understand, everyone wants to know why, but you don’t even know— but you’ll never admit it outright. You’ll never say the one thing that’s been your driven principle for the past year is something you’re unsure about. All you know is that it’s bad, that it’s made you feel ways that were foreign to you, and in order to regain control you need to get rid of it. No matter how anyone else feels about it, no matter who gets upset with you along the way. You need to do it.

Your voice is soft, but not meek. For once, you’re gonna get this entire experience off your chest. “When I first went on the site in the beginning of freshman year I was curious,” You start, glancing at Hyunjin and feeling the tightness in your chest return when you realize he’s already looking at you. “At first, I was curious, and then I was confused. I clicked on a few videos— I scrolled for a while— and I started to get this weird feeling. The more I watched the videos, the more I scrolled through pictures and posts, the feeling got stronger.”

You feel so stupid, but you continue. If Hyunjin makes fun of you he’s just proving your assumptions correct. “I’d never felt that way before and honestly, it kinda scared me, and it was annoying that I didn’t understand it. I didn’t do anything after that. I ignored how fast my heart was beating, how my body was reacting, and never went on that site again. Slowly, that confusion turned into anger— it’s not normal. The way I felt wasn’t normal, and that’s why I think that site needs to get shut down.”

“Bug…” Hyunjin laughs a little and you want to be offended, but you can tell it’s more shock than amusement. “Bug have you ever had sex? Or.. touched yourself at all?”

Your mouth opens and closes comically, but Hyunjin is patient, waiting and watching carefully for you to speak. “Is that what’s important?” You finally say, your eyebrows furrowed and you’re ready to defend yourself if need be. “No, I haven’t.”

“God, bug this is…” Hyunjin squints at you, “I think you were aroused.”

You splutter, feeling your heart rate spike in embarrassment. “What!? No. No.”

“That weird feeling? That heat in your gut,” Hyunjin says, and to punctuate he lays a large, warm, hand over your stomach. “You were horny.” This time, Hyunjin’s laugh is one of amusement, but you're too distracted by how big his hand is, splayed over your stomach and so warm it feels like it’s burning through your clothes.

“Hyunjin, the feeling— no, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Bug, if you’ve never ever been aroused before somehow, of course it felt weird. Holy shit.”

You don’t say anything, but Hyunjin continues before you can get a grip on your thoughts.

“I can’t believe this is the reason why you’ve hated us for so long, I honestly can’t believe it.”

“Hyunjin… that feeling wasn’t pleasurable. Control is pleasurable. I didn’t have a grip on anything that day and barely regained it on the days following. You can’t convince me that getting rid of the CSC won’t bring back a sense of normalcy. You can’t, and even if you’re right, I think that morally, the site is still wrong, and I’m not going to stop trying to shut it down.”

“There’s so much about the CSC you don’t know about, and there’s so much more to pleasure than control.” Hyunjin sighs, clearly more at ease now that he realizes you’re just confused. You don’t know, really, why you hate them. That’s clear. You’re stubborn though, he can tell, and even if this idea he has works— he’s not sure you’ll stop until you get what you want.

Earlier that day the CSC received an email from the dean, threatening that they’ll start looking into all that their site entails because of how often you keep badgering them about it. It’s starting to create a murmur between staff, and they’re growing increasingly frustrated. All that means to Hyunjin is you’re finally breaking through their resolve, running them down enough for them to consider shutting it down or supervising more intensely. Hyunjin can’t have that. None of them can. When Hyunjin approached you tonight he expected to have to beg— to have to plead with you to stop meddling. The site is bigger than you know, more important than some college stupidity. It rakes in a lot of cash, and he can’t have such petty reasoning stop that flow.

Hyunjin’s voice is husky as he continues and his words send an undeniable shiver down your spine “I can show you that the site, and sex by association aren’t bad at all. Mentally, you’re confused and physically, you’re pent up. We can’t have that can we, pretty girl?”

“No, we can’t.”

Wait. What? Yes, we can. Yes you can. You’ve been doing just fine right? You don’t need Hyunjin’s help. He’s not gonna change your mind because your mind doesn’t need changing.

“You can try to shut us down, but at the same time let us help you.”

“Us?” You murmur, attempting to understand what exactly is happening.

“All of us, the CSC can help you figure out what you’re feeling, right? We can help you decide what to do.”

“…You can help me?”

Hyunjin hums, removing his hand from your waist and trailing his finger along the skin just above the hem of your shirt. His fingers dip over your cleavage, tug at your necklace, up and up until your chin is in his hand, and he turns you to face him as his lips brush your cheek. “I want to see who will succeed first, so let me show you that there’s more to pleasure than control.”

He can help you. Out of all the people who ask you why, who say they want to understand but don’t try, he’s the one who’s offering a solution. As annoying as he’s always been to you, as much as he’s always embodied something you hate— the person who’s embedded such foreign feelings in your mind— he wants to help you. He wants to try, and he’s not telling you to stop your goal either. He’s not telling you it’s stupid, he’s not getting angry. He doesn’t make you feel irrational. You’re not irrational. You have a goal and it’s one you’re gonna complete, but… it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And if you succeed, if you shut them down and Hyunjin fails— if the CSC fails you’ll win. You’ll win and prove that you were right all along.

“Go easy on me.”

“Of course, bug.”

You keep your eyes downcast in embarrassment as Hyunjin whispers against your skin, his fingers gently turning your chin up and over to the point of focus. His lips. Pouty, sinfully crimson, curving upwards so surely, like they themselves know their effect on people. They look so soft, so wet. You want to feel them, and it’s as if Hyunjin’s read your mind because his lips are on yours before you can even blink.

“You just kissed me,” Your voice is airy, breathless, and usually you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I do it again?”

There’s a simmering, boiling tension both of you have been ignoring but you’ve lost the will to care about hating Hyunjin or Chan or the CSC. Momentarily, you’ve lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion you feel. You’re sick of it, sick of feeling confused. Last night you’d dealt with it by crying your eyes out, before that you’d dealt with it by having a screaming match with your best friend, and now you’re ready to look for something to fix it. This just might be the best way to start.

“Not outside.” You whisper, your hands clutching the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt with such an intensity you’re afraid it’ll rip off then and there.

The trip inside and upstairs is a blur. You’re sure if anyone saw you they stared, wondering what you two were doing together, wondering what you were going upstairs for. It’s a blur, nothing is clear but what you’re going to do at this moment, and with Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Of what you’re going to do in the future, with the CSC of all people, what you’re gonna do to them— what you’re gonna allow them to do to you— that’s the only thing on the forefront of your mind. Not about who’s watching, not about who wants to know. It’s about you. You’re the one in control, you’re the one who gets to decide. You’re the one who needs to know.

Warm. You feel warm all over, pressed against Hyunjin with his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands are clutching at his clothes, at his arms— It’s so hot, yet somehow the constant cool air of the room makes you shiver.

“W-what do I do?”

Hyunjin chuckles, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to do anything, pretty. Let me handle it.”

Letting Hyunjin handle anything doesn’t sound like a very good idea to you in any instance, but in this case you let him. You’re otherwise clueless in this area and frankly, if you want his help you’re going to have to accept it when it’s given. His mouth lands back on yours, a certain kind of desire running through the kiss. His hands are all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he can, and you try your best to kiss him back with equal intensity— to move your lips against his with the same fervor.

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when Hyunjin slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold. And if Hyunjin had imagined this during late nights, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he dreamt of you pushing your panties to the side for him to enter your tight hole, no one has to know.

“Look at me, pretty,” Hyunjin growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with a foreign intensity. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a small burst of confidence, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for another kiss. It’s a little awkward with your inexperience, all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. His lips feel like heaven and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. You want to sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of him on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," Hyunjin teases, pressing your thighs farther apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again. "I don’t think you really hate me, bug.”

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your skirt, slipping under the hem and holding the fabric tightly. God, you feel so bare. Like Hyunjin is looking at you from the inside out. When he pulls your skirt down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, his warmth. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Hyunjin lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold. You’re so sensitive. So, so sensitive.

His hands grip your waist tightly and his lips trail upwards, the bridge of his nose pushing your shirt up until it’s so high your breasts threaten to fall, smothering Hyunjin’s face underneath them. You shiver at the thought, those sinful lips pressing kisses against the skin of your breasts; what would it feel like? Would it feel like this? This feeling that you’re still so unfamiliar with?

"Pretty girls deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Hyunjin starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. You didn’t know you could make sounds like that. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Did you come to impress someone tonight?” Hyunjin murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Hyunjin’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

“You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

“Yes.”

It’s breathless. It’s not you. It’s not the person who wanted nothing to do with Hyunjin only a day ago, but you want answers. You want clarity. And right now, you want this.

Hyunjin wastes no time after your confirmation, his fingers slipping under your panties and ghosting over your skin. He lets out a harsh breath at the feeling where you’re otherwise silent, trusting that he knows what to do. When a rush of cool air blows over you though, your legs close instinctively, and Hyunjin hums, “Stay with me, bug.”

“I’m here,” You respond, slowly spreading your legs back wide and allowing him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off ur ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to cradle your cheek you lean into the warmth. It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you for the first time.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect Hyunjin— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to help you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

The man before you reaches his other hand towards the hem of your top to pinch the edge of it between an index finger and thumb, and pulls the cloth away from your skin.

His eyes bore into yours: “This okay?”

“Fuck, the more you ask me the more nervous I get.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t wanna make you nervous.”

“Just… be nice to me, Hyunjin. Okay?”

Hyunjin smiles, and you exhale, relaxing into Hyunjin’s sheets and letting his musky cologne consume your senses as his touch roams everywhere else.

And then finally— yet all too quickly— the shirt is tugged away from your breasts and they fall freely as Hyunjin eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch his pupils dilate quicker than you thought was possible. He’s barely holding back the urge to fuck you dumb, and the finger that still thrusts slowly into your cunt stutters in its movements.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, god, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Hyunjin’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, holding your breast in his large hand and rubbing over your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moan, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groans, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He wanted to do this right— show you all that pleasure could be. He moved his mouth from your nipple to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh- oh Hyunjin help me, please,” You pleaded, his shoulders too far to grip onto; your hands instead finding his hair, running your fingers through and pulling when he nosed at your clit, groaning heartily when your wetness clinged to his skin.

It’s with a lick to your clit that you wail, your thighs threatening to close, and they would have if Hyunjin’s hands hadn’t reached out to force them down, pushing further and sticking his face into your arousal with more fervor, licking and sucking with such vigor that it felt as if he was trying to devour you. Your thighs trembled with every movement of his tongue, poking and prodding at every inch of your cunt, his nose dug against your clit and for a moment it felt like you were seeing stars. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.

You didn’t think it’d feel this good. But, you remind yourself, control feels better. You can’t let him change that— he won’t change that.

The obscene sounds that came from his actions should’ve embarrassed you, but nothing like that came to mind. Hyunjin was relentless, and you couldn’t even think of anything more than the feeling of his hair between your fingers and his tongue slurping at your cunt.

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

Besides control, of course. And you assume, the eradication of the CSC would, also.

Suddenly, your stomach tenses, your body locking up, and you quickly cream all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty lips. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from this feeling. Afterwards, Hyunjin’s actions felt too harsh. He didn’t change pace at all, but it felt like your body was going to arch its way into oblivion. Unable to ignore the sensitivity of your body any longer, you pushed against his head until he stopped, attempting to catch your breath.

“You okay?”

You hum, begging the beating of your heart to soften, though as soon as it finally did you looked back at Hyunjin and saw his pants sliding down his legs. His toned, muscular legs, and it started its harsh beating once again. That wasn’t it? Of course, that’s wasn’t it, but fuck. You don’t know if you can handle anything more.

The headboard of his bed knocks against the wall as he climbs back up on the bed, moving his body closer this time and instead of only his chest hovering over you, this time his legs cage you in, one on either side, as your heart pounds itself into oblivion.

One hand supported his weight on the pillow by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever Hyunjin would come bother you. It intensifies when Hyunjin wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging the bedding from under you and you yelp.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your twitching folds, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you.

“Relax,” Hyunjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Stay with me.”

You do your best, forcing your body to relax, as he sinks deeper and deeper still. Hyunjin grunts softly when you clench down on him, and he sighs as you blink dazedly up at him.

Pretty eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Hyunjin watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his sweat slicken forehead, and he sinks back into your slick walls with another languid roll of his hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight, baby.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Hyunjin’s chest expands with a shaky breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your virgin cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper than his playful one. Tonight you’re seeing a whole new side of him— a new persona. This isn’t the annoying Hwang Hyunjin who bothers you and calls you ‘bug’, this is the Hwang Hyunjin everyone else knows. The one you hadn’t met yet.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the sheets.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Hyunjin moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, baby,” He pleads, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and Hyunjin’s groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all Hyunjin. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And again, you feel that strange feeling before tensing up, your body convulsing and arching up as Hyunjin’s thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the mattress and Hyunjin’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when Hyunjin gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwater back on. You hear it when he sighs, something light and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. You can’t do much more than sigh, but it seems like enough for him— like that was the exact answer he was looking for. You succumb to blissful sleep right before the door shuts behind Hyunjin.

“Hear me out,” Hyunjin sighs, a lazy smile on his features even still. You’re no joke even if you might not know it yet. “I think it could really work.”

“You want us to convince Y/n to what? Leave us alone or..?” Jeongin says, leaning against the table in the kitchen.

The party has long been over, there’s a mess everywhere but it’s empty except for the eight boys and you knocked out in Hyunjin’s bed. Jisung sits sprawled on the couch, head twisted ever so slightly to betray that he’s listening to the conversation, Jeongin leans against the table and Chan has his arms folded where he leans against the wall serving as the entrance between the kitchen and the living room.

Minho downs a bottle of water by the sink, and Changbin leans against the fridge, leveling Hyunjin with an intense look. Felix and Seungmin sit on the couch opposite Jisung where they have a full view of everything and everyone.

“She barely even knows what porn is, so I said I could convince her the site isn’t that bad— and is something she could grow to like, if not love.” Hyunjin explains, his eyebrows raising in wait for the retaliation that’s sure to come.

“Why should we?” Minho asks, with a swallow, “If she doesn’t like it, honestly what does it matter.” Heads nod in agreement.

“Listen, they’re starting to consider whatever the fuck she’s selling them at those little meetings, and I got an email about investigation if this keeps up. If we fail to change her mind, we can at least distract her enough for the heat to lessen a little.”

Chan nods, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He shrugs, looking over at everyone in the kitchen. “We change her mind, then we got one less problem to deal with.”

“And if we don't?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at both Hyunjin and Chan. “And if this is just a waste of time?”

“It isn’t,” Hyunjin assures, “Trust me.”

The rest of them don’t argue, but Hyunjin feels Seungmin’s gaze boring into him from the couch, feels his questions burning at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, so he leaves before they can succeed.

“We can talk about it more later, but I think it’ll work. It’s a good deed, and I know how much you guys love those.” Some scoffs and laughs fill the room, but Hyunjin is already halfway up the stairs, a plan forming in his mind and a pleasant smile growing on his face.

a note from iris: this chapter was late because of that long ass smut scene so i hope it was enjoyable and that this wasn’t 17k worth of a snoozefest 😭 i’m sorry it’s late!! so sorry but it’s still friday even if it’s 11 pm <3<3 not beta read not nothin so pls.. spare me.. and i hope you liked it !!!

not-so-mini taglist (there’s so many of y’all !!???): @chrisbahng @seonghwatoothless @bubblelixie @199719932000 @imsuchasimp00 @hyu-hl @oddinaryfelix @raspbinniecreme @fa3body @kittykatkrissa @andreaswrld @hattorihaechan @lachinitaaaaa @j-0ne25 @bangchanbabygirlx @ni-sh @green-orangeade @sincerely-skz @exclusivej3ss @elizalabs3 @lili-kims-blog @curiousgworge @midsoulz @sawadabegum @reighlee-greaves @lotus-dly @blcar @impossiblewritingrebel @yourhwngness @idek-at-this-point-lol @multihoe-net @hyun-bun @hwan-g @ughbehavior @rindomo @awesomelycoolworld @springdeity @todolyn @meowminhosblog @hyunelixies @emotionalwreckkk-blog @seungschacco @avyskai @cvfechan @jeyelleohe @vvsmydiamonds127 @chriscentric @simpforpunzngl @be-a-spacequeen @svintsandghosts @myjisung @hanjiesgf

*** if your tag didn’t work make sure your blog is visible! if i somehow missed you when tagging i offer a sincere apology <3

I'ma BIGGGGGG sucker for this trope for some reason even tho i do not condone irl. BUT GAHDAM THIS WAS HOT AS HELL. MEANIE PROF CHAN YEZ PLS

Sex Education

Genre: teacher!Chan, legal student!reader, smut

Warnings: teacher x student relationship, unprotected sex, size kink, corruption kink, cunnilingus, slight spanking, praise kink, cockwarming

Request: no

Member: Chan

Y/N sighs as she opens her textbook. She's never been one to care about her sexual status - in fact, she never even thought about it until today.

The entirety of lunch, her friends had been making fun of her for still being an "angelic virgin", as they put it - they were all extremely sexually active, and for some reason after being made fun of it for the better part of an hour, Y/N can't stop thinking about it.

She doesn't know whether she's upset or not about all the teasing … all she knows is she's been clenching her thighs together ever since she got to her last lesson, and she has no idea why.

Y/N watches as Mr Bahng walks into the classroom. She can't help but let her thoughts wander as her gaze lingers on her math's teacher smart appearance; is he sexually experienced like all of her friends? For some reason she can't imagine him going home and having sex with anyone …

She clears her throat and violently shakes her head. No. She can't be thinking such explicit things about a teacher … that's completely inappropriate. Clearing her mind, Y/N looks down at her book as her thighs tighten under her desk, and she's unaware of her teacher's gaze on her.

It's not long before the last lesson finishes. Y/N is slipping her books away into her bag in a daze when Mr Bahng's soft voice calls out to her.

"Y/N? Can you stay behind after class, please? There's something I want to discuss with you," Mr Bahng says, leaning back in his seat. His slender fingers casually spin a pen around, and Y/N is taken aback at his request. Am I in trouble?

She does as he says, despite the strange looks from her classmates. Her friends cock their heads to the side, questioning her with their eyes.

Y/N shrugs. "Just go on without me. I'll text you."

They leave the room and soon Y/N is alone in the classroom with her teacher. She zips her bag up and is unsure whether she should get up and go to his desk or not; she's saved further pondering when Mr Bahng gets up from his seat and walks over to her.

Y/N can't help but gulp as he approaches her. He's always intimidated her; intense gaze, perfectly slicked back hair, crisp white shirts, their sleeves rolled to the elbow - his forearms are lightly veined and she can't help but stare as he tucks his hands into his pockets, his blazer left on the back of his seat.

She watches as he reaches the desk next to hers. He pulls out the chair and spins it around before sitting down on it, his arms leaning against the top of the back rest.

"Don't worry," he suddenly says, and a small dimple flashes in his cheek as he smiles. "You're not in any trouble."

"Oh," Y/N says faintly. He's so close to her that she can smell his cologne; it's woody and fresh, with an intoxicating base layer of sweet warmth. Y/N feels strange. She doesn't know whether it's because being anywhere near a man has always intimidated her because her father left, or because of another reason.

She clears her throat and smooths her skirt over her rigid thighs.

"I noticed you looked a little down earlier," Mr Bahng says. "You're always quiet, but today you seemed like there's a lot on your mind. Just wanted to ask if you're okay?"

Y/N blinks at him. She's unfamiliar with this sort of thing - an adult, asking how she is? She doesn't remember the last time anyone asked her how she was; she gulps, tilting her head slightly.

"I'm fine, sir. Just … tired," Y/N says. She tries for a smile - it must falter because Mr Bahng looks at her with slight pity that makes it hard for her to breathe.

He leans back against the desk, watching her intently. "Y/N, this is a safe space, okay? I'd like it if my students felt comfortable enough to confide in me … about anything. It doesn't have to be school related, it can be about anything that's bothering me. You can tell me anything, okay?"

Y/N nods. She's unsure what else one would say in such a situation.

Especially since the man's voice is doing strange things to her stomach. Things she's never felt before.

"So … what's bothering you?" Mr Bahng asks.

"I don't know … " Y/N bites her lip. Should she tell him?

Mr Bahng raises an eyebrow, willing her to go on.

So she takes a deep breath and looks down at her knees under the desk. "I'm a virgin," she blurts out, and Mr Bahng's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. "And my friends make fun of me for it."

He's not sure what he was expecting, but this was definitely not it. Mr Bahng doesn't know what to say for a moment, temporarily robbed of his words. He shifts position; something about those three words are doing things to the comfort of his trousers.

"Oh?" Mr Bahng lets out a quiet chuckle. "I uh … wasn't expecting that."

"I'm sorry sir."

"No it's okay," Mr Bahng gently places a hand on her arm; Y/N jumps, the contact making her inhale sharply. "I'm glad you told me."

A short silence passes between the both of them; it's not awkward, but almost as though the man is trying to gather his thoughts.

"I'm sorry about your friends," Mr Bahng continues. "You know, you don't have to sex if you don't want to. Don't listen to the things they say to you."

"But that's the thing," Y/N bites her lip again, fiddling with her skirt. "I do want to have sex. I don't know what any of it's like and I want to know."

Mr Bahng swallows. He really should tell her something like 'you'll find out when you're ready' and send her away - she's his student.

But at the same time … he is a teacher. Surely teachers don't just have to teach maths …

"I could teach you … " Mr Bahng says slowly. "If you wanted."

Y/N's head snaps up in shock. "W - what?"

"I can teach you how to have sex," Mr Bahng says, more confident now as he leans closer to her. "I mean, I am your teacher after all."

Y/N exhales shakily. She knows the right thing is to say no. But gosh, the way he looks at her with those dark eyes …

"Okay," she whispers. "Teach me."

"You're sure?" Mr Bahng asks. "We don't have to, if you don't want this."

"No, I want to," Y/N breathes. "I want you to teach me how to have sex."

Chan smiles then. He reaches out and gently runs his thumb over the girl's chin, brushing it over her lower lip. Her breath hitches at the contact and her eyes flutter shut, her breath warm puffs against the man's finger.

"Have you had your first kiss yet?" Mr Bahng asks. "I'm sure you have."

Y/N shakes her head against his touch. "I haven't."

"You haven't?" Mr Bahng's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Yeah … " Y/N replies. Her cheeks grow warmer by the second, and the faint touch from the older man's touch is sending her slowly but surely into a heated frenzy.

Mr Bahng smiles. He suddenly stands up and holds his hand out to her. "Come with me," he says.

Y/N stares at his hand; it's slender, veiny, and incredibly attractive. She takes his hand and he pulls her out her seat, lacing his fingers slowly through hers as he leads her down the length of the classroom to his large desk.

"One second," Mr Bahng lets go of her hand and walks to the classroom door; he locks it quietly before pulling down the blind over the small window. The man smiles when he turns around again, Y/N biting her lip as he seems to get taller and taller the closer he gets to her. "Better be careful, hmm?"

"Now, where were we?" Mr Bahng sits down in his large chair, his legs spread casually as he looks up at the girl. "Oh yes. Your first kiss. Come here, baby girl."

Baby girl. Y/N's mouth practically waters at the pet name; she suddenly feels very small and very shy in front of this man. She can't do anything but listen to him, letting his hands guide her so that she's suddenly sat straddling his lap, looking down at those intoxicating eyes of his.

With one hand, he caresses her jaw and brings her face closer to his - he cups her face before closing his lips over hers.

Y/N immediately moans; her body is pressed up against him and she can't help but arch her back further into him as his plump lips kiss hers, each stroke of his lips sending heat and shivers down her spine. His hands travel over her body and seem to stop over her ass where he slips fingers up her skirt before squeezing her plush behind.

"Mmm," Y/N moans into his mouth; Mr Bahng smiles as he seizes the opportunity to let the tip of his tongue stroke her lower lip. When she gasps, he slides his tongue inside her mouth and sucks her tongue gently, letting the wet muscle slide against hers in a manner that makes Y/N automatically grind her hips into his.

"Such a good little girl," Chan breathes as he moves his mouth against her jaw. His hands are large compared to her body and he easily cups her in them, the size difference only making Y/N melt further into a submissive pile of nerves. "Aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Y/N whimpers. She's panting heavily with anticipation as the older man's head begins to duck further, his teeth ever so slightly grazing her throat. "I'm … a good girl."

"My good little girl," Mr Bahng continues; he's reached the collar of her shirt, and Y/N's chest is heaving with her shallow breaths. She watches with wide eyes and trembling thighs as Mr Bahng stares into her eyes, his slender fingers slowly unbuttoning her shirt to the middle. Once he's reached the middle of her torso, Mr Bahng slowly pushes the crisp material away and bites his lip at the sight of Y/N's breasts rising and falling against the cups of her pink bra.

"Sir … I feel … strange," Y/N breathes.

"What kind of strange, baby girl?" Mr Bahng asks as he ghosts his fingers over her deep cleavage. He palms his hands over them, pushing them up slightly and making Y/N's thighs squeeze around his.

"Like … I have a heartbeat down there," Y/N whispers. Her core seems to be pulsing and clenching with its own accord, the sensation making her squirm. "My tummy feels like it's full of butterflies."

Mr Bahng smiles as he strokes his fingers over her bra. "That's a good thing, baby girl. Let it happen."

With a moan of acknowledgement, Y/N watches as Mr Bahng pushes her bra down; her breasts spring free, swollen with pleasure and hard at the nipples. The sight is so wrong to her that it sends exhilaration down her body in pleasurable tingles as Mr Bahng begins to fondle her breasts.

When he leans forward and clamps his mouth around one of her enlarged nipples, Y/N whines. She looks down, watching in fascination as her math's teacher sucks her breasts seductively, his tongue trickling saliva all over her sensitive skin and making her continue to squirm all over his lap.

"You're such a pretty little thing," Mr Bahng groans around her breast. His other hand caresses the other one, his fingers flicking its nipple and sending waves of pain and pleasure through her skin. "I always wondered what your uniform was hiding."

Y/N's eyes widen; Mr Bahng laughs, and he suddenly picks her up from her lap before setting her down on the desk in front of him. "Surprised, little one? I don't know if I should admit this or not, but believe me … I've had plenty of boners thinking about it."

The stunned girl moans at his words; she gasps when he suddenly spreads her legs, her skirt flipping up over her thighs and exposing her drenched underwear. The pale pink is now a dark pink, and Mr Bahng's eyes flood with dark lust as he realises just how wet his favourite student is from his touch.

Mr Bahng pulls his chair closer to the desk before he rests his fingers on the insides of Y/N's thighs. "You smell so good, pretty baby," Mr Bahng groans; he slides his hands down her legs, gently snapping the tops of her stocks over her thighs and making the girl squeal from the feeling. He takes his time using his hands, massaging over legs before spreading them wider, and pushing them back so she's half laying on the desk.

"Let's get rid of this," Mr Bahng whispers against the curve of her thigh; his thumb pushes against the wet fabric of her underwear and Y/N jumps, her breasts shaking against her bra. She gulps as he pulls them down her legs, and when his eyes widen at the sight of her already dripping over his desk, she flushes.

Mr Bahng trails his fingers lightly over her folds; he parts them with both his hands, exposing her completely to him before he winks up at her. Then he closes the distance between her lower lips and his mouth, his lips kissing the top of her pulsating area before he licks over her wetness.

"Sir … " Y/N whines, her breath getting stuck in her throat as her teacher begins a slow rhythm of his tongue lapping at her folds. "What … what are you doing?"

"Shh, pretty baby girl," Mr Bahng hums against her citoris; his voice vibrates throughout her and she moans, her body shuddering. "Just focus on the feeling, okay? Sir is going to show his pet such a good time that she's going to come back begging for more at the end of every class."

Biting her lip at that, Y/N does as she's told. She gets rid of any more curious questions and watches through slitted eyes as he continues to push her folds apart, the very tip of his tongue licking against her swollen clit and the flat of his tongue lapping at her hole.

He slowly increases his pace, and with every lick, he moans against her folds; Mr Bahng breathes heavily as he smiles up at the girl who's a squirming mess on his desk, her cheeks red and her eyes fluttering shut as wonder floods her face with evident pleasure. The sight of her naked in his classroom makes his cock continue to strain against his trousers, and he moans as he continues to eat his student's pussy.

"Sir," Y/N suddenly pants; her eyes are wide and her thighs have begun to tremble even more. "It … it feels like … like I'm going to pee. It feels weird … "

"That's normal baby girl," Mr Bahng hums. "Don't hold it back … let everything go, my pretty girl."

His words seem to have a igniting effect on her body for she suddenly can't help but scream; her entire body tenses and she digs her fingernails into the wood of the desk as an overpowering sensation floods though. She feels as though she's burning in the best way, her core pulsing and clenching as pleasure continues to rip through her. It makes her breathless and she shuts her eyes, arching completely off of the desk as her breasts push against her shirt.

"Sir," Y/N half sobs; she looks down and is shocked when she sees the desk wet beneath her. She feels sticky, her ass slipping against the wood as she sits in her own release. "That felt … " she trails off, completely lost for words.

She's taken aback when Mr Bahng collects her juice with his fingers; after running them through her folds, he sucks the glistening liquid off of his fingers, and Y/N's eyes widen.

"You're such a good little girl, baby," Mr Bahng stands up then, and now that he's hovering over her naked form, Y/N shivers. "You taste so sweet … I could eat you for hours."

"Sir … " Y/N flushes again and looks away; she gasps when Mr Bahng cups her jaw and turns her face to look at him again, and when le leans down to kiss her mouth, she's shocked to taste herself on him.

Mr Bahng pulls back after a while, his hands squeezing her breasts. He kisses her forehead before he starts to slowly unbuckle his trousers, the leather and metal falling to the floor with a loud clang.

"Ready for the next part of your lesson, my pretty girl?" Mr Bahng strokes down her thighs and playfully slaps her ass; she bounces against the wood as she nods, wanting anything and everything this man can give her.

"Yes, please sir," Y/N moans.

She watches in a lust filled daze as Mr Bahng slowly pulls his cock out of his trousers; it's unlike anything Y/N thought it'd be like, and the way he's swollen on the tip of his long girth makes Y/N squirm further. She can feel herself growing wetter by the minute as she stares at Mr Bahng's hand wrapped around his cock, and she's sure she's almost about to drool.

"You think you can take sir's cock like a good girl?" Mr Bahng hovers over, gently stroking the head of his cock along her folds. "If you do, I'll reward you with another orgasm, baby girl."

"Yes," Y/N nods eagerly. "Yes, yes, yes."

"That's my girl," Mr Bahng cups her neck before he starts to push inside of her. "Oh, you're still so wet."

Y/N moans; the feeling is exquisite. He's as hot as she is, and the strange, smooth hardness pushing into her and moving her walls out of the way makes her buck her hips towards him. She's ever felt empty before, but with him slowly pushing inside of her, she suddenly feels full in a say she didn't know one could feel.

"Sir … " Y/N moans loudly; Mr Bahng throws her legs over her shoulders and he pulls her closer to her, her skirt half way up her stomach and her breasts bouncing with every movement. He smiles when he pulls out again, making Y/N cfy out at the feeling before he pushed in again, his balls slapping against her thighs.

"Baby girl, you're so adorable," My Bahng groans. "You're so tiny and yet you've taken all of my cock so well. Looks like you deserve a reward, hmm?"

Y/N nods with her wide eyes; she lets him hold the both of her wrists above her head as he starts to thrust into her, each thrust squelching wetly and filling the room with the most explicit sounds Y/N has ever heard.

"Sir it feels so good," Y/N chokes; her eyes have already begun to roll to the back of her head, not having yet come down from her previous high. "You feel so big."

With a loud groan, Mr Bahng suddenly pulls her thighs towards him; in a split second, she's on her knees on his chair, her breasts hanging over the top and her ass quivering in the air. She barely has time to process what just happened when she feels his hand fist in her hair at the nape of her neck, tugging lightly before he slams back into her again ftom behind.

They both gasp; the new position feels so different and Y/N can't help but let out a constant string of high pitched moans as Mr Bahng continues to pound onto her. Every stroke ensures the tip of his cock is stroking the sensitive spot inside of her, and soon Y/N is a whimpering, whining, completely flustered mess.

"Oh baby girl," Mr Bahng gently slaps her bouncing ass as he fucks her. She moans, the slap enhancing the pleasure and she begins to see white dots floating around her vision. "You're so beautiful. You're doing so well, my little baby."

She moans as she nods in acknowledgement; the same pressure from earlier has begun to build up inside of her and she grips hard onto the chair as Mr Bahng leans over her, his shirt cool against the hot of her back.

"Think you can cum all over sir's cock?" Mr Bahng whispers in her ear. The sight of her ass bouncing on his cock is making him struggle; the thought of being the first man to ever see her like this makes him shiver. "Let sir see his cock covered in his pet's juice."

"Yes, sir," Y/N gasps; two more thrusts later, she moans extraordinarily as her second orgasm rips through her. It's deeper this time, making her entire body shake and dip onto the chair, and she suddenly blacks out for a short while as the pleasure takes her to a completely different world.

"Good girl," Mr Bahng is panting, sounding almost strangled and incredibly sexy when she comes back to her senses. "You did such a good job, my baby girl."

Y/N can't help but smile as she collapses onto the seat; she doesn't even realise when Mr Bahng moves her again, and suddenly she's sat on his lap with him still inside of her. His shirt is suddenly gone and her cheek rests against his chest as his large arms wrap around her softly, hugging her as he lets her regain some of her strength.

"I'm so proud of you," he's whispering to her as he cards his fingers through her hair. He gently rubs circles into her back as he cradles her small body against his larger one. "I can guarantee none of your friends ever got fucked this good for their first time."

At that, Y/N can't help but giggle. She then yawns, and she curls her fingers over his chest as her core continues to clench around his cock. "Do I have to go now, sir?"

"No, baby girl," Mr Bahng kisses her temple. "You can stay here for as long as you want to."

Y/N smiles. She curls herself further around him, shutting her eyes. She doesn't particularly want to leave at all; something about this older man's aura has her in a chokehold, and she wants to stay with him inside of her for as long as she possibly can.

Even if he did mean what he said earlier …

Y/N swallows. Maybe seeing him everyday after class isn't such a bad idea.

---

Tag list ~ @koos-euphoria @es-kay-zee @raethethey @hugs4chan @hotmesshapa @manonblackbeak-trash @hendsernoodle @sir3racha @stanskzseungmin @loving-unicorns106 @ateez-babygirl @dalamjisung @dinosdawn @cookiemonstermusic258 @strwbrryfroyo @gazelle-des-pres @qtieskz @stigmvta @necromancersupreme @sulfurcosmos @super-btstrash-posts @changlix-mp4 @exonations @fluffybitch0325 @jeyelleohe @planetdemon @dani41 @jumbocircus @octalalica @velvetand-roses @foivetimesacharm @anaaam @waverzzzzzzzz @peachy-flxwr @lady-hunkyhair @justamessofablog @elizabeth11moreno @lenfilms @xhazmania @hotboyyeonjun @starshine-moon @justoutfromdead @snow-pegasus @lixiesbabyhands @chansbabydoll @serphinsquans @bbychannie97 (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

Wowwiieeee. I don't think I've ever been so infatuated with a story like this. I have never been one for fantasy or bxb smut but this is just so beautifully written. Your takes on humanity are so true and the way you spin it into this faerie fantasy web has me kicking my feet and giggling like an idiot. You are so genius. Ugh. Love love love. And the forget me nots flowers being the only ones left. Stop i wanted to cry. Maybe i did but shut up no i didn't

a trick of the light (chan/felix)

Chan wanders into a faerie ring during a hike. He is taken and enslaved by the faeries, and though he’s furious and dreams of escape, he can’t deny that the king catches his eye. But Chan shouldn’t want the very person holding him prisoner, should he? And regardless, King Felix couldn’t possibly be interested in a mere human.

Characters: Chan, Felix, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Minho

Genre: oneshot, smut, fae!au, faerie!felix/human!chan, falling in love

Warnings: it’s not dub-con per se (everyone wants everything that happens in sexual and romantic scenes) but there are some tricky elements. there is the question of the influence of magic, as well as the nature of any relationship between a captor and those they hold captive.

Rating: Explicit

Length: 25k

It takes five days, Chan is later told, of keeping him on sedatives, before he doesn’t resist. Everyone says they’re glad the delirium cleared, that he was able to fight through it and recover.

“Malnourishment and dehydration do terrible things to the brain,” the doctor tells him. “But typically the confusion dissipates once your body is no longer so exhausted.”

“I knew you were crazy, but not that crazy,” his little sister says, rolling her eyes, when she’s allowed in to visit. 

Chan lets her hug him. He lets his family believe it was just a momentary lapse—delusion brought on by exposure to the elements, just as the doctors say. That he stopped fighting because he stopped believing it. 

The truth is, he’s not sure what to believe anymore. He knows how it sounds; he saw the terror in his mother’s eyes when he tried to explain everything that happened, when he tried to make them understand as the nurses pinned him down and stuck him with drugs that put him under, that made him slow and weak so he couldn’t so much as lift a finger. And they’re right—it is crazy. But he can’t accept that it was just a hallucination, or a particularly vivid dream his starving brain had conjured up when he lay dying in the woods. 

It had felt so real. 

Keep reading

Can you do an Innie friends to lovers fic. Thick mc. Smut obviously but like baby bread to daddy toast🤣🤣

Aphrodite's Pain

Jeongin x thick female reader

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY! Verbal and emotional abuse, physically intimidating behavior, mentions of gaslighting, body shaming, unprotected piv intercourse (be safe use protection) cum eating, praise, body worship, a little spanking (like one smack), Jeongin has a big dick (is that a warning?) I think that's all but as always if I missed something please let me know and I will add it!

A/N: Hope everyone enjoys this one! I had fun writing it. I'm sorry for the terrible joke at the end but I couldn't help myself. I'm cheesy like that.

You and Jeongin became inseparable almost immediately when the guys first introduced the two of you. You loved all of the guys but you and Jeongin had a lot of similar interests and the same sense of humor so you fell into a very comfortable friendship quickly. Movie nights, coffee hang outs, amusement parks, arcades, you spent most of your free time with Jeongin. The guys thought for the longest time that you two would perhaps become more than friends and it was frequently discussed amongst them but they didn’t want to push you so they all swore not to say anything to either of you. For all intents and purposes, Jeongin was your baby bread and you were his Noona. If you ever needed help with anything he was always a call away and you would always drop anything if he needed you. Jeongin was your friend and you appreciated and needed him more than you could ever express.

The one thing that you just couldn’t understand since you and Jeongin had become friends was, in the three years that you had known each other you had run though countless boyfriends. For whatever reason they couldn’t handle the fact that you and Jeongin were so close. You were always up front with your them about your best friend being a guy and you did everything you could to make sure your partners felt secure in your relationship. It never seemed to matter by the end though. Every time the inevitable happened and the guy you were seeing dumped you, your confidence took a hit. Was your friendship with Jeongin just an excuse, a means to an end? Was it really because of you? Were you not pretty enough? Was it because you were heavy set? You had never questioned your weight or appearance or appeal until one guy after another kept leaving you. They all couldn’t really be leaving just because of your friendship with Jeongin. Right? Every time another guy ended things with you those questions plagued your mind. Of course, Jeongin was always there to help hold you together and assure you it was the insecure idiots that you had been dating that had the problem and not you, but Jeongin was your friend he was supposed to tell you things like that. You always held back just a bit never really touching on your insecurities about your appearance. So, while it helped to hear the things he would tell you in the moment it did very little for how you were actually feeling in the long term.

When you met your current boyfriend Matt you were apprehensive about dating him, about dating anyone really. You were at a place in your life where you were thinking maybe you just needed to be single, reflect on yourself and what you’re doing or not doing to not be able to sustain a relationship. You were convinced the issue had to be you in some way. Matt was persistent though. He would send flowers, text you sweet little things all the time, and he didn’t seem to mind Jeongin being around or the fact that he took up such a big chunk of your life. Before you would consider seriously dating Matt you felt the need to express the fears you had about getting into another relationship. How you wondered if it was truly your friendship with Jeongin that made guys in the past leave or if it was the fact that you were thicker or not attractive enough. You laid it all out, admitted more to him than you ever had to anyone, maybe even to Jeongin and Matt had assured you that he wasn’t like the rest of those guys. That you were beautiful and he knew you and Jeongin were friends and that was all.

“You are gorgeous baby, don’t say stuff like that about yourself. Regardless of how stunning you are, I’m not the jealous type. I trust you; I wouldn’t have pursued this with you if I didn’t. I know you’d never do something to betray me like that Y/N so don’t worry so much. Okay?” Against your better judgment you believed Matt. He seemed so sincere and so far, he HAD been better than your ex’s when it came to you and Jeongin. It wasn’t long though before the same things that always happened started. Matt would try to get you to cancel on Jeongin to go out with him instead and get mad when you wouldn’t. If you invited Matt along to spend time with you and Jeongin he would throw side eyes and glares even though Jeongin always made sure to be nice, for your sake at least. Matt would make snarky, jealous remarks whenever you brought up Jeongin. He was actually worse about all of those things than other partners had been and still you would try to reassure him, you would try to make things work. At first after he did things like that, he’d apologize but after a while the apologies stopped and the gaslighting started. He would blame you for arguments he started and try to make you think you weren’t being loyal because you wanted to spend time with your friend. Even still, you hoped you could work out these issues and be happy with Matt. You were trying your best to, as hard as it was.

You and Jeongin were finally getting to hang out after what seemed like forever for the two of you. Between your work and really focusing on trying to make things work with Matt, not to mention Jeongin’s busy scheduled, you hadn’t gotten to spend much time together recently. So, you were both excited to get to do one of your favorite things, stay in at your place and watch movies. At least that’s what you were trying to do when Matt started texting you. He blew up your phone through most of the first movie you were watching to the point you had no idea what was going on. Jeongin was glancing over from time to time but you were too absorbed in the conversation, well more like bickering, with Matt to realize. As soon as you started the second movie your phone started going off again.

That stung. Your face contorted into a grimace after reading it and your chest tightened a bit. Jeongin noticed your stiff posture, the frown and the worry lines on your forehead becoming more prominent. He knew those worry lines only showed when you were trying to hide that you were upset.

“Everything okay Noona?” You looked up from your phone and realized Jeongin had been watching you for a minute now.

“Wha- oh yea. It’s just Matt wondering when we’re gonna be done.” You didn’t mention what he’d said in the last text. Jeongin shook his head.

“Jeeze we’re only just getting through the first movie.” Jeongin made a vary valid point and you agreed.

“I know he’s just upset…” Before you could finish your sentence, you heard a knock at your door. You looked in that direction and then back at Jeongin confused.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked. You shook your head before getting up to see who was at the door.

“I’ll be right back.”  You called back to Jeongin as you disappeared down the hall way. When you got to the door you looked through the peep hole. When you saw who it was you were not only surprised but furious. You opened the door and were immediately met by Matt yelling at YOU.

“Why the fuck didn’t you message me back!?” You looked at him like he was a crazy person because he was acting like it. You looked behind you checking to make sure Jeongin was still in the living room and then walked out into the hall closing the door behind you to try and keep him from hearing the commotion Matt was causing.

“One, lower your voice. You JUST messaged me. You didn’t give me time to reply before you were knocking on my door. How long have you been wai- you know what never mind it’s not important. You were being mean Matt if I had replied, what was I supposed to say to that that wouldn’t have just ended up being a huge fight? I’m trying to have a good time with my friend and watch some movies.” Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes. He looked behind you at your closed door.

“Why did you close the door huh? Afraid I’m gonna see something you don’t want me to?” This again. Matt started pacing the hall back and forth as you pressed your fingers into your temples trying to will away the headache this was bringing on.

“We go through this all the time Matt! He’s like my little brother. It’s not like I hide or lie about spending time with him. I invite you to join, don’t I? If you call or text I always answer, don’t I? I spend almost all my time with you and do everything I can to make you feel secure in our relationship and you still get so jealous. You knew Jeongin was my friend before we started dating. We had a whole conversation about this, multiple in fact. You said you understood, you said you were okay with it. So, why are you getting so bent out of shape?” Matt spun around and walked back up on you quickly, his finger out, pointing at you. You flinched a little surprised by the aggressive action.

“Yea I want to tag along and be the third wheel with my own girlfriend on your little dates with your little boyfriend.” You let out at heavy sigh. You were getting exhausted with this.

“We don’t have little dates and we are just friends Matt. YOU are my boyfriend.” Matt laughed and started pacing again.

“Not any more I’m not. You always say the same shit, it’s always ‘he’s like a little brother why are you mad?’ You must think I’m fucking stupid. I’m so done Y/N, this is over. We’re over! You’re not worth this shit.” Matt spun around and faced you again.

“Just admit you’re just a whore and fucking him already!” Your jaw dropped.  

“What did you say?!” You were shaky and had tears in your eyes. You couldn’t believe he would say that. You truly had never given him any reason to think that you and Jeongin were anything but friends, in fact you’d done everything you could to prove otherwise. Matt took a few steps closer, baring down on you, looking down his nose at you. Anger radiated off of him.

“I SAID that you’re a fat whore. And that I KNOW you’re fucking him.” The tears in your eyes fell and you choked out a sob. He knew where to hit you so that it hurt and he took his cheap shot. Just then your door flung open behind you and Jeongin was standing there. It was obvious he’d just heard the whole exchange between you and Matt even though you had tried to prevent it. Jeongin’s face looked like it had no emotion in it. It was stiff like it was made of marble. His fists were clenched and the veins of his arms and neck visible. He was clearly trying his very best to restrain himself. You had never seen him like that in all the years you’d known him.

“Y/N, go inside.” His voice was firm but he spoke calmly to you and moved to the side to allow space for you to go in. You didn’t say anything. You did what he told you to and ran into your apartment still crying. Once you were inside Jeongin pulled the door closed behind him this time and stood in front Matt.

“Wha-“ Jeongin cut Matt off before the first word.

“Shut the fuck up.” His words were calm but they still dripped with venom. Matt was stunned. Jeongin had always played the quiet shy kid around him up until that point, mainly for your sake. So, when Jeongin told him to shut the fuck up, he shut the fuck up.

“You have got to be the dumbest asshole alive do you know that? You have never deserved Y/N. She would never cheat on you or willingly hurt anyone she cared about for that matter. Never, and I would never try and make her to do something like that either. We are just friends you fucking neanderthal. We have never fucked, are you hearing me you insecure dip shit.” Matt looked angry and confused, like he wanted to believe Jeongin but didn’t. Jeongin wasn’t done though he leaned in closer and lowered his voice.

“I have never fucked her Matt BUT… I assure you… tonight? I will.” Jeongin looked Matt right in his eyes as he said it. Matt puffed out his chest like some gorilla trying to assert his dominance, challenging Jeongin. Jeongin squared up to him totally unafraid. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes remembering you were upset in the apartment and just wanting to get back to console you. He didn’t have time for Matt’s shit.

“I don’t want to Matt. I’m really, really trying not to. So just get the fuck out and I won’t have to do something we’ll both regret.” Matt hesitated for a moment thinking about calling Jeongin’s bluff. When Jeongin opened his eyes again Matt saw how serious he was. He rolled his eyes and huffed before turning and walking towards the elevators without another word.

“Oh, and Matt?” Matt stopped and turn around.

“You won’t be around anymore but rest assured, if I ever hear you calling Y/N a fat whore again, nothing will stop me from absolutely rocking your shit. Got it?” Matt pressed his lips together. He didn’t say anything but Jeongin knew he got the point. Once Matt was on the elevator and gone Jeongin went back into the apartment. He found you in the living room curled up in the mountain of blankets you had been under watching movies, with your face pressed into the couch cushions, you were still crying. He walked over and sat by you and started rubbing your back, trying calm you.

“Noona? Y/N? Please don’t cry.” You pushed the covers off and turned over facing Jeongin. When he saw your red cheeks and teary eyes, he almost walked back out the door to find Matt and give him the beat down he deserved. Instead Jeongin wiped your fresh tears away as they fell.

“It’s my own fault Innie, things have been getting worse for a while. I should have known; I should have just ended things myself but…” You sniffled and more tears fell.

“What’s wrong with me?” You tried to choke back another sob unsuccessfully.

“Come here Noona.” Jeongin opened his arms to you and you sat up and fell into them pressing your face into his shirt. He let you cry against him as he stroked your hair. After a minute when you started to quiet down Jeongin spoke.

“You know it’s not you right? Seriously. What could be wrong with you? Huh?” You pulled away from him and fiddled with your hands in your lap.

“I’m…” you hesitated to say it but knew Jeongin was your friend and that you could tell him anything.

“Because I’m… you know…fat.” You said the last word so quietly as you wrung your hands together. Jeongin looked at you speechless for a moment. How long had you been dealing with these feelings and he had no idea? He felt horrible.

“First of all, you have fat, you’re not fat. You’re more than your body type Y/N, so much more. It doesn’t matter if you are skinny or full figured. You are kind, and funny, and you are absolutely stunning Y/N, just the way you are.” It was your turn to be speechless. Most of your friends would deny the words if you said you were fat to them, or just tell you that you were pretty which didn’t really help, as much as they were trying to. Not Jeongin though. He didn’t want to convince you that you weren’t thicker, you are, he wanted you to know that it didn’t matter because it was just a fact about you, like having blonde hair or green eyes. It was not who you were and no matter what you were beautiful. He had the most serious look on his face as he continued.

“You’re so willing to try and see the best in these guys and you don’t see the best parts of yourself and they refuse to, all of them, and then you end up hurt. I hate it. I hate that you get taken for granted by these assholes. Y/N, you deserve someone who wants to worship you because you… are beauty personified.” You blushed but you couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief at his words.

“Innie, you’re sweet but…” Jeongin cut you off before you could say anything else.

“No Y/N no buts you are SO beautiful add to that that you are a genuinely good person. Anyone should count themselves lucky to have you. I know I would.” You looked at Jeongin. His eyes bored into yours. Then you blurted out the next words without even thinking.  

“Did you mean it?” Jeongin looked at you confused. Did he mean what? That you were pretty? That you deserved better? You scooted closer to him on the couch. Your eyes were so big and dreamy, they sparkled from the tears that had been in them moments before. Jeongin couldn’t help but get lost in them.

“Mean what?” He finally managed to make himself speak. Suddenly you climbed onto his lap and straddled him, one of your thick thighs on each side of his legs. You rested your arms on his strong shoulders and sat your plump ass on his thighs, your fingers started fiddling with the hair at his nape. Jeongin froze.

“That you were going to fuck me tonight?” His eyes went wide suddenly. You had heard that?!

“Uh… I-I’m sorry… Noona I-I was just talking, trying to make Matt mad… I’m sorry…” Your face fell and you stopped toying with his hair.

“You didn’t really mean that you wanted to then?” You started to get off Jeongin’s lap, your face flushed with embarrassment as tears started to prick your eyes again. You felt incredibly stupid for saying and doing that, what were you thinking? Of course he didn’t want to fuck you he’s your best friend. He said that to make your ex mad and he was saying all those things to you to be nice. To comfort you like a good friend does. Before you could get off Jeongin’s lap though his strong hands grabbed hold of your full fleshy hips and held you in place on top of him.

“Don’t! Don’t get up.” He pulled you the rest of the way down on his lap again so your full weight rested on his thighs. Jeongin pushed your hair away from your face so he could look you in the eyes again before his hands moved to rest on the curve of your waist continuing to hold you in place.

“If you want that Y/N, then yes, I want that. But…” Jeongin was hesitant say the next words. Your fingers played with the hair at his nape again, coaxing him to go on as you looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“But I don’t just want to fuck you. I… I’m in love with you Y/N. I always have been.” It seemed like your eyes glowed even brighter when he said those words. Your lips turned up into a small smile that Jeongin was relieved to see.

“Innie, all this time… why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jeongin sighed.

“We’re friends and I thought you wouldn’t take me seriously since I’m younger than you.” You shook your head.

“Inn… Jeongin. I’m only 2 years older than you it’s not like it’s a huge age gap.” Jeongin shrugged his shoulders.

“I know but you always date older guys and you call me baby bread like the hyungs do, you always told your boyfriends I was like a little brother to you. So, I thought you would reject me if I said anything and I didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship.” You nodded as Jeongin explained, understanding now why he had never said anything.

“I was compartmentalizing my feelings Innie, so that my partners would feel more confident in our relationships, so that they wouldn’t feel threatened and try to interfere with our friendship. I didn’t take into account how that might affect YOU in our relationship though and I’m sorry.” Jeongin grabbed a hold of your face, his hands were rough but so gentle. He leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering so close to yours. You closed your eyes and held your breath.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about Y/N.” Jeongin’s lips met yours. Soft lips pressed against soft lips. It was like a supernova went off in your chest the way your heart thumped out of control. The kiss started tender, lips slotted together, soon your tongues were tasting, tracing the inside of each other’s mouths. Before long you were practically ravaging each other, teeth tugging at full lips, both tongues trying to assert dominance. When you shifted on Jeongin’s lap his hard on pressed against you pulling an unexpected moan from you. Jeongin broke the kiss and looked at you. His eyes were such a dark brown.

“FUCK! That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard Y/N.” He growled the words and his lips crashed into yours again. Jeongin feverishly kissed you as his hands gripped the soft love handles on your waist and rocked you against him harder making you moan louder into his mouth this time. You both were completely fueled by lust as you moved against his firm cock over his jeans, the pressure against your clit, even through the fabric separating you, was making your body thrum with excitement. Jeongin leaned back against the couch still guiding your movements. He watched with hooded eyes, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth as you held onto his shoulders and rode him, your big breasts bouncing along with your rhythm.

“God you’re so fucking gorgeous Y/N. Does it feel good?” You were flushed and softly panting as you shook your head up and down.

“Good baby, I’m gonna make you cum now okay pretty girl?” He leaned forward and kissed you again wrapping one of his arms around you to pull you closer to him. Jeongin slid his hand down your plush tummy past the waistband of your pants and panties. When his fingers dipped into your soft wet folds your breathing hitched and you stopped moving.

“No no baby. Don’t stop, keep riding my fingers. Want you to cum for me. Can you do that Y/N?” You shook your head again you were having trouble forming words he was making you feel so good. You started rutting your hips against Jeongin’s hand as his lips and teeth worked over your neck and shoulder, leaving love marks behind, his tongue soothing each one after. Every grind against his fingers sent chills through your whole body and you could feel your climax creeping up on you quickly.

“I-Innie…fuck…I-I… I’m so close…” Blush was creeping up your chest and neck as your labored breaths came in between you trying to form words. Jeongin slid his fingers past your clit and pushed them inside you, curling them so they rubbed against your g spot with every grind of your hips. Your jaw fell slack and your eyes went wide.

“JEONGIN!” A slight smile crept on to his face hearing you scream his name like that just because of his fingers.

“Come on you can do it, cum for me beautiful, make a mess on my hand.” Jeongin started pumping his fingers deeper into you as you continued to slide across his lap chasing your orgasm. When Jeongin pressed his thumb firmly against your clit it pushed you over the edge and you came.

“Oh… oh my god..Jeo..Je..In-Innie… !” Were the only words you were able to remotely form as you fucked yourself on his hand, his fingers still pushing into you, his thumb roughly rubbing against your clit. You hugged Jeongin’s head shoving his face into your supple breasts. He pulled your tank top down and kissed and nipped at the soft skin on the top of your breasts as you shivered and twitched through the remnants of your orgasm.

Jeongin removed his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth, licking the pads of them to taste you before sticking them into your mouth. You sucked on them willingly and your teeth grazed his fingers as he retracted them.

“Fucking gorgeous, god damn. Just gorgeous.” Before you could think, let alone reply to Jeongin’s words, he gripped your thick thighs with his big hands, lifted and flipped you so you were under him on the couch now. You let out a little squeak at the show of strength.

“Jeongin!” You breathed out his name in surprise. He looked down at you a little glint in his eye and a smirk, one that looked mischievous.

“What? Are you surprised I know how to handle my girl?” Another wave of arousal washed over you hearing Jeongin call you, HIS girl. You tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

“I’m not baby bread anymore beautiful. I’m going to show you how you should have been treated all along.” Jeongin stood and pulled his shirt off over his head and then quickly started working at his pants and boxers tossing each article of clothing aside before kneeling on the couch and helping you remove the yoga pants and tank top you had been wearing. Once you were completely naked under Jeongin his fox-like eyes narrowed and took in every curve, every soft cushiony piece of your body. Completely enamored by you. He started speaking absent mindedly, his thoughts just forming in his head and coming from his mouth as he took in your form.

“Y/N did you know most artist depictions of Aphrodite show her with hips and dips, a tummy and full breasts.” Jeongin leaned in close and whispered in your ear.

“How do I have the real-life Aphrodite under me right now?” You blushed at his words and looked away but he tilted your chin urging you look at him.

“Look at me.” You did.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on Y/N, every piece of your body should be kissed and loved baby.” Jeongin placed a kiss on your lips, your jaw, your neck. Soft kisses trailed and traced along your body as his hands caressed the curves of your breasts and hips gently touching you where ever his lips and tongue were not. After truly worshiping your body with the soft prayers that were his lips he kissed your mouth again, this time deeper, more passionate. Tracing his tongue across your lips as it dipped between them. Your head was buzzing but you wanted more, needed more. You needed Jeongin.

“Please! Jeongin, please fuck me.” Jeongin leaned over you bending your knees and pushing your legs apart so he had better access to your dripping cunt.

“Anything you want baby. Anything for you.” With those words Jeongin spit in his hand and rubbed it over the head of his thick cock, sliding it through your wet folds before guiding it towards your aching core. When the head of his dick pushed into you you let out a soft gasp.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you am I?” Jeongin asked sweetly. You shook your head no.

“No…I’m okay… mmmmm… just BIG. Go slow?” Jeongin gave you a small smile and nodded at you as he slowly sank into your cunt deeper. Your finger nails dug into his shoulder leaving little indents behind as you felt the stretch and sting of Jeongin’s thick cock being pushed deeper and deeper inside of you until he was fully engulfed in your sweet warm wetness. You could hear the low growl come from the bottom of his chest as he tried to compose himself and not just start ramming into you mercilessly. It was hard to control himself but he didn’t want to hurt you so he slowly pulled out to the tip and pushed into you again a little faster than the last time. He kept doing that in and out. Slowly until you started rocking your hips and meeting his gentle thrusts into you.

“I’m gonna go a little harder now baby. Are you ready?” You bit your lip and nodded.

“Yes Innie.” Your voice was so sweet to his ears it shouldn’t have sent more blood rushing to his cock making him throb inside you, but it did, he was so hard. He pulled out and pushed into you the hardest he had yet and you moaned out in pleasure as the head of his dick hit your g spot.

“FUCK! Jeongin… right there… keep doing that.” He heeded your instruction and started moving faster thrusting into you at that same angle and abusing the soft spot with the tip of his cock over and over. You pussy was soaked and the sounds of his skin connecting with your wet cunt every time he pumped himself into you deeper egged Jeongin on to fuck you harder. He gripped you by your squishy hips and his fingers dug in as he fucked you faster and harder.

“God baby you are taking my big cock so well. You’re so pretty. Every inch of you feels so fucking good. I can’t get enough of you baby, gonna have to have you on my cock all the time beautiful.” You moaned out at the praise. He made your body buzz with his words.

“Yes… yes Jeongin. Want you to fuck me when ever you want. How ever you want.” Hearing you say that Jeongin flashed you a mischievous smile again. He pulled his dick out of you and wrapped his arms around you pulling you up flush with his own body. Your big soft breasts squished against his chest as he kissed you.

“Turn over baby. Push out that beautiful ass and let me see your pretty pussy from the back.” His words were like ecstasy and practically made you drip down your legs with excitement. You did exactly as he told you to and bent over presenting your ass and drenched cunt to him arching your back. Jeongin’s hand came down and connected with your supple ass cheek causing a delicious sting.

“Innie!” You jerked and moaned out in surprise looking back at him. His smirk grew as he rubbed the red hand print that was appearing. As he massaged away the pain, he sunk his cock back into your soaked pussy. His hands gripped your hips and gently pulled you back on him as he pushed his aching cock into you deeper. Jeongin ran his hands from your hips over your voluptuous ass and up the small of your back easing you down, your face rested on the couch cushions, arms out in front of you holding onto the arm of the couch. His hands followed back up the trail they had come from stopping to grope your ass and spread you so he could see his cock sliding in and out of you covered in you juices. The sight set something off in him. He gripped your soft hips firmer than he had before and stopped moving.

“Y/N you better hold on to whatever you can.” As soon as the warning passed his lips his hips started pounding into you full force and fast. Each thrust pushing your face into the couch cushions harder as you tried to keep your hold on the arm of the couch.

“Fuck! Oh… God-fuck yes fuck me hard Jeongin Fuck me, yes.” He continued fucking into you hard and fast bringing you closer and closer to your climax. Your walls tightened around his cock, he let out a grunt and squeezed his eyes closed.

“Oh fuck baby… I’m so fucking close. Are you close beautiful? Are you gonna on my cock?” You moaned out in utter ecstasy unable to form words. He knew you were close the sound your sopping pussy made every time he slammed into you made it obvious. Still he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“Talk to me gorgeous… FUCK… are you gonna cum for me baby?” You panted the next words out.

“Ye-yes I-I-Innie… go-gonna c-c-cuumMMM! Jeong-Je-J In!” You screamed out fragments of his name as he drove his cock deep into you. You twitched and throbbed around him coming so hard you couldn’t see. Jeongin kept fucking you deeper rocking his hips hard against your ass searching for his own high as well as riding you through your orgasm. Making your cunt tighten and squeeze his cock harder.

“Fuck. FUCK! Baby… baby… I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out and begged for it.

“Yes Innie give me your cum. Want it Innie please.” He grunted and slammed deep in to you one more time before pulling out and stroking the head of his cock quickly. He moaned out as his thick, warm, cum painted your full ass in stripes. You could feel it warm pooling on your lower back, dripping down your ass and onto your cunt.

“Fuck baby, so much cum covering you right now. You look so fucking good covered in my big load pretty girl.” Jeongin massaged one of your ass cheeks with his finger tips as he tugged on his cock, smearing the last of his cum across your ass. He pressed the underside of the tip of his cock between your ass cheeks and slid it up and down over your cum overed ass hole. You clenched at the sensation as he smeared his cum up and down, twitching from the overstimulation to the head of his dick. You propped yourself back up on your elbows and reached around with one hand, running your fingers through the pool of warm cum that had landed on your back and sucked them clean. Jeongin’s eyes rolled back and he closed them biting at his lips.

“Fuck baby. How do I taste?” You ran your fingers through his cum again and sucked more off humming in appreciation as your wiggled your cum coated ass against the head of his cock he had pressed against you.

“You taste so good Innie…mmmm.. taste soo good.” Jeongin kneaded your ass cheek for a moment longer with his cock nestled in between them, appreciating the complete mess he’d made of your ass and cunt. His smeared cum coating your ass cheeks like a glaze as you continued to run your fingers through it and clean yourself off sucking and savoring the taste of him on your fingers each time as Jeongin watched you.

“Fuck baby, you look so sexy eating my cum.” He leaned over, kissed and playfully took a bite of one of your ass cheeks and your pulled away laughing still sucking the last of his cum from the tips of your fingers.

“How about I get you cleaned up and we can watch this other movie?” You leaned back down on the couch and nodded as Jeongin got up and ran to get a warm cloth to clean you up with. When he came back, he wiped what you hadn’t scooped off and eaten off your backside and then ran it down your sensitive cunt. You winced at the sensation of the warm rag just a little but it was soothing.

“Did I go to hard? You’re not hurt are you?” Jeongin asked as he finished cleaning you off. You turned over and laid on the couch on your side propping yourself up on one elbow looking at him.

“No Innie, I’m fine. You were great, that was amazing really.” You lazily smiled as you laid there your cheeks, chest and breasts, even the tops of your thick thighs were painted in blush. Jeongin slotted himself between you and the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around you. You grabbed one of the mountain blankets from before, covered up and turned the movie back on as Jeongin held your soft body against his. You tilted your head and looked back at him. The tv screen giving you just enough light to admire his face this closely for the first time. His strong jaw, the five o’clock shadow that was starting to peek, he looked down at you.

“What, do I have something on my face?” You laughed and shook your head no.

“Just you were right. You are NOT baby bread anymore.” His eyes narrowed a bit and he smirked.

“More like daddy toast now.” His eyes narrowed further as he gave you that look he always gave you when you’ve said a stupid joke. He shook his head and laughed pulling you tighter against him. Legs and arms tangled; you watched the movie until you both fell asleep on the couch. Jeongin was your best friend and from that night on your lover.

10XL |BangChan (WIP)

𝐀/𝐍: This is just a wip idea in my notes it will probably take forever to get out ┻━┻ミ＼(≧ﾛ≦＼)

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You feel like blowing money and buy a 10xl hoodie for you and Chan to try and wear together for a cute Instagram couple video. You get all tangled with chan in the sweater and have to communicate slowly and move slowly to get untangled but you just let yourselves fall onto the floor and fuck in the huge ass sweater instead. No way are you putting this video on Instagram.. 😮‍💨

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If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just give me feedback! That works too.<3

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Wip | Kim Seungmin

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Seungmin knows it's fucked up wanting his best friends girlfriend but he couldn't help it. It was Jeongins fucking fault anyway. He shouldn't have sent him that video..

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Mentions of nude videos, masterbation, multiple orgasms, subby?seungmin (yes this is a warning), overstimulation

𝐀/𝐍: Um hi! <3 This is a small section of a bigger oneshot? I'm working on. I just wanted to get this out because I take a really long time to write. I've been nervous because it's like my first smut kinda (not really but you get it right?) But anyways i hope you like it..<3 Thanks to @spicyfrogbrain for helping me fix mistakes ! <3

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6 months ago Seungmin was in his dorm alone, scrolling through Instagram when he got a notification from Jeongin. He figured he needed help with classwork like the idiot he was but when he opened his text he did not expect to see a video of you. Well, it wasn't just a video of you. It was a mirror video you sent to Jeongin and in this particular video you were seated on the floor, adorned only in underwear, which you pulled to the side to reveal how soaked you were for your boyfriend while biting on your lip. You then inserted your middle finger into your heat moaning Jeongjn's name so prettily. You flashed your big doe eyes at the camera as innocently as you could while slipping another finger in. Just as you moaned out again you ended the video, a clear motive of wanting to tease.

Seungmin had never heard moans as pretty as that and never thought he would. Just like you never thought for a second that it would end up being sent to Seungmin's phone.

Seungmin didn't expect it to get send to him. He also didn't expect to get rock hard but that's not the point.

Stupid Idiot Fox

*Attachment sent*

She's so hot ain't she..

Bro what the hell is wrong w/u

Does she even know you sent that?

Well of course she doesn't know

Dumbass now answer my question..

Yeah i guess she's hot or whatever

i guess.Fucking idiot istg.Don't

come crying to me when she dumps

your ass.

To be quite honest seungmin wasn't annoyed at all that jeongin sent him that. In fact, as soon as he seen a couple seconds of the video he saved it to his phone and stashed it in a private folder. From then on seungmin couldn't stop thinking about you and how it would feel to touch you.

On some late nights like yesterday, when he was alone and needy he would palm himself through his boxers until he was hard enough to take his cock out. He always got so hot watching you play with yourself. He would grip himself tight and stroke slow eventually picking up his pace like he imagined you would. He would hiss when he spit in his hand twisting it over his red, angry tip.

He would moan your name loud as his head fell back onto his headboard. Every stroke of his cock felt so fucking amazing when he watched you. He was so close. He needed you. Needed to feel that pretty pussy around him. Needed to show you how good you could feel with him under you.

"Fuck y/n I'm so close to cumming please" He bucked his hips into his hand frantically when you moaned Jeongjn's name through the speaker. "S- so fucking hot baby fuck. Fuck!" He mewled out a string of curse words, body shaking as he shot his warm sticky cum all over his hand and stomach.

He kept toying with himself for hours after that, edging himself with both hands to your video until he was a pathetic, writhing mess on his bed covered in his cum from multiple earth shattering orgasms.

"Mmm you're going to make me cum again, please it hurts, i want it so bad" He mumbles as he milks his last orgasm from his body. His phone falls from it's position on the bed but he couldn't bring himself to care since he was already sinking into his mattress, drifting to sleep.

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If you like my content and would like to support me you can tip me! Or just give me feedback! That works too.<3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Euphoria | Lee Minho

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Minho and you definitely do not like each other. No matter what the tabloids say. He’s your friend who argues and bickers like no other but you also crave the taste of him on your tongue. You are people who sling insults at each other from your respective stages, only to find him later painting your skin with sloppy kisses. And that's something you need to work on.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Minho x Reader (female)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 23.2K

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Actors AU, friends with benefits to lovers, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (both male and female receiving), finger fucking, secret relationship, mentions of past relationship and cheating, angst, time jumps

𝐀/𝐍: Hello! I have no control whatsoever. It's tragic. This fic exists because I woke up at 4 in the morning and promptly died over the idea when someone mentioned 'actors' and 'smut' together. It also happened to be when I was in Minho appreciation hours, and hence this monster. Reblog and share your thoughts if you enjoyed the fic!!

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then

J U N E

He thrusts into you at an agonising speed, all grappling hands and searing mouth, while your fingers tangle in his hair. Part of you knows that you should not be doing this, not when just seconds ago you were screaming yourselves hoarse at each other, faces hot in anger as you went along with the same old song and dance.

“But I guess things like that are beneath people like you, right, baby?”

You arch into him with a soft murmur when he bites on your bottom lip, sucking it none too gently in his mouth and soothing the sting with his tongue. It sends frissons of pleasure down your spine, and you get to taste his moan, sweet on your tongue, as you pull on his hair.

“You’re just a self serving jackass, you know that Minho?”

His hands are heavy on your hips, gripping them hard as he lets his tongue lick into your mouth, and the two of you are all heat and fire, neither willing to give an inch. You can hear your blood rushing in your ear, blocking out everything but him, the feel of him, the smell, the way he presses his mouth against yours, hard and unyielding, and you have to hold on to him tight.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And that’s how you ended up here, backed against the cold metal wall of his trailer, because you deliberately came over to pick a fight having been too on edge all morning. Nothing calms you down like riling Minho up, but the tension that’s been coiling tighter ever since you met finally reached its breaking point today, leading to him pining you to the wall.

Or maybe you pulled him to you.

There was want echoed in both of your eyes, that’s for sure.

Either way, you were both equally as guilty even though this was wrong but you just pull him closer, let your hands run over the curves of his biceps straining against those ridiculous wizarding robes and give in, loving the way his teeth bite into your skin, the rasp of his hair on your cheeks. Minho kisses like he talks, confident, demanding and a little rough, and you might have whimpered a little bit when his hand came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing along the ridge of your cheekbone.

One kiss flows into two, then three, never once losing its intensity, never once losing its harshness and heat and ability to suck the air straight from your lungs. Teeth clack against one another, lips pressed together with a bruising force that makes you see stars, and when he slips his tongue into your mouth it tastes a bit like war and heartbreak, and you want more.

Three turns into four, and he pulls back a little, just the barest brush of lips against yours yet it still sends your heartbeat skittering, and his hand slips to your neck, fingers pressed on your thrumming pulse. Shockwaves seem to originate from that spot, and you let your lips part, just a little bit, in a silent gasp of pleasure.

Five is a whisper of breath, shaky and deep, and you let your hands linger at the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at his scalp in a way that has his nose brushing your cheek, tender and soft. You know how to make him moan with it, how to test that bit of control he never seems to want to let up, and you do it again.

The sixth is a punctuation mark, a full stop at the end of the sentence, sweet and succinct with clumsy lips before you both pull away with wide eyes and harsh breaths.

“Fuck,” he says, running a shaky hand through his hair as he takes a step backwards. It leaves you feeling strangely cold, but you don’t pay too much attention to that, not when fuck seems like the understatement of the year for the mess you have gotten yourselves into here.

Your eyes meet his and you echo his words, because really, what else can you say.

* * *

before: 12 months ago

M A Y

“No,” you say, contemplating, smothering yourself with a pillow just to end this conversation.

On the other end of the line, Liv sighs in a way that you can tell that she’s pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Come on, Y/n. This is a good opportunity.”

“I don’t want a good opportunity,” you say, flopping onto your stomach, “I don’t want anything other than to be left alone. If I go back out there the tabloids will eat this shit up.”

“It’s been six months. Surely people aren’t going to remember that now.”

“Pretty sure people are going to have a hard time forgetting the fact that my ex boyfriend outed me on the red carpet and then broke up with me then and there. In front of the press. On the red carpet,” you emphasise. “My mascara was running down. I was turned into a meme.”

“A lot of celebrities are turned into memes,” Liv points out unhelpfully, and you pull a pillow across your face. “Look, everyone has their ups and downs in this kind of work. Get used to it.”

You scrub a weary hand down your forehead. “You should host a seminar on pep talks, Liv, I’m sure people will learn a thing or two.”

There’s a bit of shuffling around on the other end of the phone and you hear the muffled sound of a door closing. When she speaks, Liv’s voice is the softest you have ever heard it. “You need to start putting yourself back out there, Y/n. These things happen and yeah, it’s mortifying and you want to crawl under a rock, but you’re stronger than that.”

You blink several times, actually pulling your phone away to check the caller ID to make sure, yes, that is in fact Liv, your hardass manager. “That might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips, “Careful, I might cry.”

“Fuck off, Y/n,” she grunts, and the smile widens. “So, will you at least give it a chance?”

Hesitating for a moment, you contemplate the idea. “I could always just move to the countryside and become a dairy farmer instead of going back to acting. I have enough money to do that. You could find a new, competent client who doesn’t have a crisis every other week,” you say slowly.

You can practically see Liv raising a single brow, a look of pure skepticism on her face. “Imagine what the tabloids would say about that,” she says, “Since that’s apparently your basis for making decisions these days.”

“They’d call me a butch, and then let me fade into obscurity with my ten cows,” you answer promptly, and receive a grudging huff of laughter in return.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one,” she says, “Now back to the point at hand, do you agree or not?”

You bite your lip, hugging the pillow close. It would be nice to get back out there, you guess. Despite all the drama, you really do love acting, and while these past few months have been a nice break, you don’t know how much longer you can go without having anything to do. Finally, with a long, drawn out exhale, you relent, “Fine. You can send me the specifics and we’ll see.”

You are not even done with your sentence before you hear the ding of your email notification and you startle out a laugh. “Jesus, were you waiting with your finger on the send button or something?”

“I was confident that I could break you,” she says, smug, and you breathe a laugh again. “It’s just the audition package, but I think you’ll really like this show. It’s a cutesy, no bullshit type sitcom.”

“You know me well.”

“Let me know by tomorrow. I’m giving you twenty four hours to make a firm decision,” she says before hanging up.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at her actions. Liv is a great manager, but she’s definitely got a flair for dramatics.

… And knows exactly what kind of role would be perfect for easing you back into the industry, you grudgingly admit.

It starts off like another one of those generic crime investigation shows where you play a damn good detective who doesn’t play well with others until she meets her new partner, an unknown actress.

Liv was right. It’s the right amount of charming while still keeping with the grittiness that comes with crime shows nowadays, and your character – as well as your yet to be known partner – shuts down at least three instances of perceived sexism in just the first episode.

And you may be reading into things, but you are pretty sure that the two detectives have a thing for each other. A subtextual thing. God, you hope it’s a thing.

It’s a really good show.

Not only is the writing well done but the characters are pretty fleshed out and developed for a pilot episode and you are already tempted to call back Liv with the affirmation that yes, you are willing to go in for the audition. The only thing that’s holding you back is the smug look that you can picture all too well on her face at the news.

You last seven hours, caving after you have had dinner and Liv sounds just as self satisfied as you imagined.

Turns out the reading is in a few days time and Liv says, “I’ll drive you up there myself. I don’t trust you to not run away because of cold feet.”

You sigh, “As always, your faith in me is astounding.”

“We’re driving up the day before and booking a hotel. Start getting your shit together, Y/n.”

And you do, unearthing whatever you think would be suitable enough for being thrown back into the spotlight. If it was up to you you would just wear sweats all day. The morning you were scheduled to leave, you are awoken by an incessant pounding on the door to your apartment at 7:30am.

Not even bothering to throw something over your night slip dress, you stomp over and yank the door open with a belligerent, “What the fuck.”

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Liv demands, placing her hands on her hips. You glare at her weakly through your post sleep haze. Of course Liv would be looking runway ready at 7:30 on a Wednesday, both hair and makeup immaculate as she judges you for looking like an overgrown sewer rat. You are only mildly upset about it.

“You do realise it only takes like two and half hours to drive up to Seoul right? And that the audition is tomorrow?”

Liv merely grunts, and shoulders past you into the living room, though not before shoving a warm thermos in your hands. “Shut up, drink this, and get dressed.”

Unscrewing the cap, you're immediately hit with the scent of fresh coffee, and a strongly brewed one at that. “Seriously?” you ask, eyeing the dark brown sludge Liv likes to drink. She goes through at least four cups a day and you aren't quite sure how she’s still living.

The other woman just gives you a shark-like smile. “Bottoms up,” she smirks as she throws herself down onto the armchair.

You grumble but do as you are told, only to gag at the first taste of it in your mouth. It’s bitter and horrible and you're pretty sure your heart stutters over itself before beating double time.

“That’s disgusting,” you wheeze, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

Liv barely glances up at her phone. “I don’t care. Get dressed.”

You briefly consider drawing out your shower, but you're fairly certain that Liv wouldn’t hesitate to barge in and drag you out herself so you keep it quick. Mostly. You probably could have spent a couple less minutes shaving your legs but oh well. What’s done is done, and Liv hasn’t expressed any desire to harm or maim you as yet so you consider it a win.

By half eight the two of you are trudging down to the carpark, your duffel bag swinging lamely between them.

“If this goes badly I’m going to go back to my original plan of rearing llamas in South America,” you warn, pulling open the door to the passenger side with far more force than necessary. You throw your duffel in the backseat, having it land haphazardly on the floor.

Liv smoothly slides into the driver’s seat and the car hums to life. “I thought you were going to be a dairy farmer?” she asks lightly, passing over one of those heavy bran muffins you like to eat. You make a face but accepts it nonetheless. Asking Liv to stop at a Starbucks to pick of breakfast will only result in a stink eye and another bran muffin thrown your way.

“I changed my mind. Llamas have more personality than cows. Plus the paparazzi will never find me as an obscure livestock owner in the Andes.”

“I’m glad you’ve thought this through,” she says wryly, and you just smile at her, taking a huge bite out of the muffin.

You regret it instantly. It tastes like sadness and despair.

You don’t do much at the hotel, getting separate rooms and Liv leaves almost immediately to… do whatever it is she does on her downtime. Probably making a necklace out of human remains or something.

You dick around for a little bit, channel surfing before landing on an old episode of Charmed and then making the decision to hesitantly open up your Twitter account to scroll through your feed. You don’t go on often, especially because of these last few months, only tweeting when Liv says you need to make sure the world knows you are not dead, and even then it’s just a retweet of something, like one of those cute kitten vines.

You go through the writers’ room account, familiarising yourself with the producer and director before you catch yourself and stop. You could not get the role. You know that this industry is more luck than talent. You shouldn’t get attached.

It doesn’t stop you from looking up the studio though, learning that they’d be shooting on the same block as several other shows including some pretty well known ones. Homeland Studios is home to shows like Star Kingdom, Reign and Rebellion, and The Wreckage, just to name a few. It’s just a subtle reminder that it’s expected to do really well, and you swallow heavily, anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach.

When it’s time for you to go to the actual audition, you are a veritable bundle of nerves, to the point where Liv has to grab you by the shoulders to take you to the studio.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, hands clenched tight enough that yor nails dig crescents in then inside of your palm. “Maybe I shouldn’t get back into this just yet. Maybe we should go back home.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” Liv says mildly, switching lanes to head for their turn off, and you just nod, meek, settling down in your seat and trying not to think of everything that could go wrong.

None of those things happen of course; in fact, the audition surprisingly goes well enough.

You somehow manage to get in the mindset of your character and deliver your lines almost flawlessly despite the fact that you felt like you just came off a rollercoaster. The executive producer, Mr. Jung, is impressed at the end of it, and the room is all smiles when you are done, stumbling back out into the arms of a waiting Liv.

“See?” she smirks, “You did just fine.”

“I’m going to throw up,” you declare, and Liv just rolls her eyes.

Later that night Liv shows up to your room, a bag of Thai takeout in hand while you are aimlessly scrolling through your phone.

“Can you believe that there are articles on this already?” you ask, glaring at the luminescent screen. “I thought this was a closed audition? How do they have pictures of me?”

“Never underestimate the power of the paparazzi,” Liv says sagely as she begins to unload containers. You eat in silence, sometimes a quip here or there about an article that popped up. The pictures are blurry at best, which many say means that it’s just a hoax. That’s a good thing, in your opinion. The last thing you want is to ease back into the water only to have a sea monster drag your down kicking and screaming.

When you’re finished, Liv puts aside her container and looks at you, determined. It’s intimidating to say the least.

“You should start looking into apartments,” she says, blunt as always.

You are taken aback. Out of all things you expected her to say, this wasn’t even on the list. “What's wrong with my apartment?” you frown, “I like it.”

The look you get in return suggests that you are stupid for asking a question like that. “Well for one it's a good three hour commute from there to the studio.”

If anything, that just makes you frown deepen. “You're acting as though I already have the part when I’ve only gone in once.”

At that, Liv is suspiciously quiet and it makes you narrow your eyes. “What? What aren't you telling me?” you demand.

Another beat of hesitation and then, “They specifically contacted me with the role. They want you to take the part.”

That makes you even more confused and you ask, “Why would they do that? I haven't been acting for a while and I doubt that I'm good for press at the moment.”

There's a sigh from Liv before she unwillingly says, “They cast one lead already and she specifically asked for you to be her co lead.”

“Who is it,” you ask, voice flat and eyebrows raised expectantly.

Liv lifts her chin to meet your gaze, as though squaring up for a fight. Well, it’s not necessarily out of the ballpark just yet. “Shin Ryujin,” she says at last, and you are certain you can hear the screeching of brakes as the world stops.

Neither of you speak while you digest this information until you glare at her and almost spit what you have to say, “Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to team up with my ex boyfriend’s ex? The ex who dumped me on the red carpet? What the ever living fuck, Liv?”

She sighs again before saying, “I knew you would react like this, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You slump backward into your pile of pillows. “The tabloids are going to come for me, you hear that? They’re going to come and ask me a million different questions and turn me into another meme. The opportunities for this are endless.”

“Relax, you’re making this worse than it needs to be.”

Your voice is muffled through the layers of pillows, but you are certain Liv can hear you when you say, “Tomorrow. I’m flying to South America tomorrow to start my yet to be named llama farm tomorrow.”

now

M A Y

A bottle of lavender and citrus shampoo has never looked that intimidating to you.

You probably spend a good five minutes under the stream of water just staring at the thing since you first noticed it. Your hair is already soaked all the way through, and the bodywash – his bodywash, the one that makes you smell like pine trees and musk – has swirled down the drain ages ago, but you can’t stop staring at the green and purple bottle sitting so innocently in the shower caddy.

It’s the exact same brand you use, the one that only the beauty store a good fifteen minutes from here sells, and you know that it’s stupid to get all worked up over a simple bottle of shampoo, but you can’t help it, not when it makes your stomach flip like that, not when you find yourself swallowing several times.

The shower door clicks open and you jump, almost slipping if it weren’t for the muscled arm that shoots out to grasp you.

“Whoa, careful,” Minho says, voice trembling with mirth as he pulls you into his chest. You feel the hotness creep up your chest, and he notices it too, dropping a finger to your breastbone, tracing it all the up your neck. “You trying to drown in here, baby?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Just got sidetracked,” you say sweetly, thanking every deity you can think of that your voice doesn’t shake. You smirk and let your eyes run unashamedly over his bare form, the sinews of his neck, the hard ridges of his stomach that taper into a sharp vee at his hips. You love to stare at his naked body, love how it’s a study in sharp lines and angles that you wish to trace first with your fingers and then your teeth and tongue.

Minho doesn’t miss the way you are watching him, and he steps near you under the spray of the shower with a halfway smirk, letting it flatten his sex mussed curls.

“Well,” he all but purrs, and you shiver, letting your hands trail across his broad frame. He leans in to bite your ear while his thumbs brush over the tight bud of your nipples. “How about I sidetrack you a little more?”

Your hands spasm on his shoulders at his words, nails digging into corded muscle and he drags his teeth down your jaw.

“It’s your water bill,” you breathe, already rubbing yourself against his hardening cock, and he huffs a laugh into your skin.

Placing a kiss at the hollow of your throat, he mumbles, “It’s worth it,” and the grin that was budding across your face falls flat, stomach twisting awfully again.

You grab his hand from where it’s playing around with your breasts and drag it down to the the junction of your thighs, widening your stance slightly. “Less talking and more of this,” you tell him in a no nonsense kind of voice, his fingers taking their place on your clit, “I’m not getting sidetracked as yet.”

He misses the emotions that played across your face before, for when he finally looks up, it’s to meet a challenging eyebrow and a playful glint in your eye. He laughs again, pressing his forehead against yours and lets his fingers trail across your folds, parting them and spreading your wetness around and your eyes flutter shut, head tilted back.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, and then he’s kissing you, soft and deep while his other finger drums on your clit.

You try to put all thoughts of that damned shampoo bottle out of your head, god you try, and it works for a while, letting yourself get caught up in his fingers and tongue.

His fingers dipped in your heat, collecting all the slick that had gathered there before he dragged them back to your clit, swollen and throbbing in need for him. You allowed yourself to lean into Minho as he kept you pressed close to his body, planting small kisses at the top of your head.

It was intimate enough for you to freak out, intimate enough that it shouldn't come under whatever arrangement you and Minho had. Any rationality slipped from your mind when Minho tipped your head back to capture your lips in his.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body falling completely into his embrace. His lips felt so fucking soft, gliding against yours smoothly, a little chapped and raw, yet so fucking perfect against yours.

You sighed into the kiss and Minho’s tongue licked your lower lip, the simple sensation sent heat straight to your core when he caught them in between in his teeth, slightly nibbling on them. You craved this feeling more than anything in the world. Nothing could compare.

“Fuck” you breathed, and he bit your lower lip, tugging at it, breaking the skin hard enough to draw blood. All you could do was let out a breathy moan, which came out as more of a whine. Your fingers grazed the nape of his neck, digging crescents into the soft skin and his overwhelming scent completely indulged you.

For a moment you forgot about his fingers until he pushed you against the shower wall, plunging two fingers into your soaking, greedy cunt waiting for him, where he belonged.

"I've barely started, baby," he cooed at you, lips meeting yours again to match the intensity of his fingers.

You couldn’t feel it in yourself to be embarrassed, you just wanted him to touch you.

“Please” you whined, and he increased the intensity with which his fingers were rubbing against your walls, a delicious pace that you were far too guilty to be both indulging in and craving for.

“M-Mnho…” you spoke, faltering at your words as he explored you.

“Feels good?” He asked, out of breath, leaning to press kiss under your ear. His tongue was languidly tracing a path along the side of your neck.

“Yeah…p-please. Fuck, don’t stop…” you moaned as he fucked in and out of you with his finger. The small kisses, the way his fingers owned every inch of you, the way his thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub, everything was too much for you to take. You threw your head back, trying to contain yourself, unsure if you will ever get enough of this, ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, you’re always so wet for me. Are you close already?” He mumbled, watching you.

“Just fuck me” you breathed, of course, Minho isn't one to make any of this easy for you.

“I know, baby. Your cunt can't be left untouched,” he chuckled.

“Go faster, please” You pleaded, leaning backwards to rest your head against the shower wall. You know for a fact that if it wasn't for his hands steadying you, you would barely be able to hold yourself up.

Minho knew how to push you to the edge, he knew how to curl his fingers just right inside you, his dark gaze on you, hot and determined. It was all too much.

“Please, don’t stop,” you said, knowing very well he won't.

“Don’t worry, baby. I'll make you feel so good,” he said, finding your mouth again with his own. You were far too fucked to kiss him back properly but that didn’t stop him. His fingers moved so fast inside you and his tongue explored your mouth at the same time. “Always so tight,” he mumbled, making you clench around him.

You didn't bother to reply, feeling the pressure finally build up, a tightening coil settling deep in your belly. You could hear how wet you were by how fast his fingers pulled in and out of you.

“Faster…I’m so close” you panted, feeling everything inside you build up and Minho listened to you, increasing his pace, fingering you at an insane speed, his fingers curling inside you so well.

He pulled you in for a kiss, and just then, you came, the knot uncoiling and you let out a loud moan, into his mouth. You came with repeated moans of his name and incorrigible words, and he helped you ride out your high, kissing your neck, his fingers still inside you as your thighs trembled.

"Fuck, Y/n, you have no idea how beautiful you are." You breathed out a laugh, your eyes fluttering close. “I could watch you come a hundred times.”

"You’re that great."

"Yeah? Let me wash all that grease from your hair."

Your stomach twists when he offers to wash your hair for you, an unsettling amount of domesticity in the suggestion, and you move to capture his mouth in a frantic kiss that catches him off guard for a second before he can say something else.

Soap gets in your mouth, but you ignore it in favour of kissing him harder, hands drifting up to grip his own hair, slippery between your fingers, and you stumble back into the wall behind him, his hands flying to grasp your hips.

The water beats down on you fully now that you have his back against the wall, and his hands squeeze your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass, causing you to groan in his mouth. The soap suds drip down your back, and you try your best to ignore it, focusing on the warmth of his mouth, the hardness of his cock trapped between your bodies, pressing against your stomach, until the water runs clean, and that’s when Minho growls, fumbling to turn off the tap and hauling you up against him, dripping wet.

You shriek a little when he lifts, carrying you the short distance to his bed and dropping you down on the edge of it only to kneel between your open thighs, shouldering them apart.

A hand darts to his hair, grasping it when he nuzzles the crease where your hip meets your thigh, stubble chafing in the most wonderful of ways against your skin, and it brings a smile to your face, all previous worries long gone because this you can do. Sex is just sex. This is what you signed up for all those months ago.

“Insatiable,” you tell him, tapping his cheek.

He noses at you again, this time dangerously close to your centre where you can feel his breath brush against your cunt and you shiver, waiting.

“Your fault,” he mumbles, too busy peppering your mound with light kisses.

“I wasn’t done in the shower,” you say, laying back with a sigh as he licks up your slit gently. “You distracted me.”

“That was my plan,” he says unabashedly, using his thumbs to hold your folds wide open in front of him, everything on display. Minho looks up at you with a boyish grin, “You’ll have plenty of time for that after,” he says, and keeps eye contact with you when he seals his mouth over your clit, and really, what can you say to that?

‘After’ turns out to be nearly an hour later, rinsing the combined stickiness off your skin while he changes the sheets. Your hair is long dried, a halo of frizz around your head, and a cloud of lavender scent following you wherever you go. It still makes you feel uneasy, the level of intimacy you are at now, far higher than when this entire thing started, but you make a gargantuan effort to push it away. You could just be overreacting. You have a tendency to do that sometimes.

You step out into the living room in just a ratty t-shirt of his to find him lounging on the couch in sweats, a documentary playing on the TV while he nibbles on a slice of pizza. His glasses sit lopsided on his nose as always, and it makes your heart swell with fondness.

“Ryujin’s tweeting about us again,” he says, without any preamble, “Apparently she thinks we are going to burn the building down if we are left unchecked.”

You immediately unlock your phone and open up the app, spotting the tweet at the top of your timeline, and you snort. “What an idiot,” you say fondly, “Although I’m somewhat offended that she thinks we’ll destroy the complex.”

“I know right? Come on Ryujin, we’re not monsters,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “Obviously if I wanted to get back at you for something I’d just trash your apartment. I’m not going to inconvenience the entire building just for our feud.”

“What a gentleman,” you say wryly, slumping down on the couch next to him, and he prods you with his toes.

“We should take a selfie,” he says after wiping the grease off his hands, “To show her that we’re definitely still alive and everything’s intact.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say to take a selfie? You with me? Minho? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“You’re a bit dramatic at times, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only several times a day.”

He rolls his eyes again and reaches out for your phone, pulling up the camera app. “C’mere,” he tells you, sitting up so that his shoulder brushes against yours. You readily move into frame.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” you say, “I feel like I should being taking a photo of you taking a selfie with me, you know, to record this historical moment-”

You only stop talking when you hear the sound of the camera going off and looks up to Minho, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

“You did not just do that,” you say, shooked just a bit, “I was talking!”

“Well if you won’t shut up and pay attention,” he teases only to have the camera go off once more.

Now it’s your turn to cackle at the look on his face, and you pat his cheek lightly. “Karma,” you say succinctly, and there’s another sound of the shutter that makes you huff. “Alright enough of that. Give me back my phone.”

He holds the phone out of your reach, grinning. “Just one more. And then you pick whichever and post it to um-” he wrinkles his nose as he tries to find the word and you can’t help but giggle.

“Instagram?” you prod him, and he makes a face, nodding in assent. “Honestly, you’re weird. Stop acting as though we would be the first actors to post a selfie together."

“Shut up,” he grumbles, knocking into you with his shoulder before lying back down on the couch. His eyes drift shut. “Just make sure that in whatever you post up, you get my good side.”

“You don’t have a good side.”

“Rude,” he says, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips that causes one to appear on your face. You never thought that the two of you’d get here, even when you started fucking, and now you did, and it leaves you warm and fuzzy inside, this friendship you have developed with him. It also fans the flames of your anxiety, wondering if you should just stop having sex entirely before it permanently screws up your friendship into something irreparable.

It doesn’t stop you from posting the picture though, turning off all notifications and throwing your phone on the coffee table before wedging yourself between the back of the couch and him to watch whatever it is he found on Netflix for them. His arm ends up around you, and you snuggle into it, perfectly content for the time being.

before: 12 months ago

M A Y

Shin Ryujin hasn’t changed since the last time you saw her.

Of course, you have only seen her twice before, once at the afterparty of an awards show where you had possibly the most uncomfortable conversation of your life, and the other time when you found her sitting on your – their? – ex boyfriend’s lap.

She is still the perfect mixture of cute and hot, all cute features and sharp edges that cut a pretty damn beautiful figure. She’s still bubbly and lively, eyes impassively trained on you for the moment you enter the room, and she still makes you feel nervous, mortified and uncomfortable all at the same time.

You get the part, to no one’s surprise, but the actual cast listing hasn’t been released yet, not until they have all gone through a table read.

Unfortunately, as if life loves playing these little, mortifying games with you, you are placed in the seat next to Ryujin and it’s awkward to say the least. It’s still early with half the cast not here as yet and there’s only so much fake texting you can pretend to do before it becomes noticeable.

Finally, you crack, turning in your seat to say, “So. This is awkward.”

She lifts a single perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What, most friendships don’t start with you realising you’re not dating the same two timing scumbag as someone else?” she asks, keeping a perfectly straight face.

“Is that what we are?” you ask, perhaps a bit too quickly, “Friends?”

Ryujin scrutinises you a little bit, as though expecting there to be some sort of alternative motive, and you wonder where all her extraversion energy has dissipated or if she was always like this. Then, Ryujin must not have found any twisted meaning behind your words because she leans back with a half a smile and says, “Yeah, Y/n. We are friends.”

You try to bite back a smile but you probably don't succeed, especially since Ryujin shoots you a sly, sidelong look and gently knocks her elbow into yours. You mimic the motion, knocking back into her in return before frowning as another question comes to mind.

“Why did you request me to be your co-star?” you ask falteringly, “We have only met twice, and one of those times happened to be with you and my ex were naked in bed together.”

“Good times that was,” she says with a wry twist of her lips. She turns so that her whole body is facing you and worries her lip between her teeth. “Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I have seen your stuff Y/n, you’re good at what you do and what happened all those months ago-” You stiffen and you know Ryujin notices as she slows her speech, “-was pretty shitty. But you can get back up again eventually and if this was the opportunity for that, then why not?”

“It was the least pretty shitty thing, it was a pretty mortifying experience,” you point out and Ryujin laughs.

“Yeah I figured. Getting outed and broken up with within the span of seven minutes? Ouch,” she winces and you are pretty sure you end up gaping at her. She leans over and taps your mouth closed with a ‘click.’ “Take it from me,” she says, resting a hand on her arm chair, “One bad experience doesn’t mean you have to hide away forever.”

You stare at her for a beat longer before a shaky smile unfurls itself across your face. “I like you, Shin Ryujin,” you declare and get a smile that’s all teeth in response.

“Good,” she nods, “Because hopefully we are gonna be seeing each other a lot for the next few months.”

And with one last shared grin, the directors and producers enter the room, the room filled with all the actors for script-writing, calling them all to silence to begin the table read.

It goes surprisingly well if you do say so. The cast is fun and quirky, each of them bringing something new to the table and there’s something about firing off quick witted banter with Ryujin, both of you smirking just a little while you do so, that just seals the deal for you. For the first time in a long you actually feel truly at home. Acting has always been something which put you at ease, and despite the bigger picture demanding more than what just interest can fulfill, the idea of associating bad memories to your passion wasn't the best.

“Hey,” Ryujin calls out when it’s all over and she’s walking over to catch a cab, “Wait up.”

You slow to a stop, turning to look at her as she catches up. “What’s up?”

She comes to a stop in front of you, shifting her weight from one leg to another and fingers the end of her ponytail. “Where are you staying?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from Busan right?” she asks, and you nod once, “So you need a place to stay while we’re filming.”

Right now you are still living out of your duffle in the single hotel room. Liv left a few days prior, once she was sure that you weren't going to run, and you have been on your own since, not even sparing a thought about your housing predicament.

“Fuck,” you groan, raking a careless hand through your hair, “I forgot about that. And we start shooting in a week, dammit.”

She smiles at you, the same sharp one as before, but you can see the nervous tightening around her eyes. “Well actually,” she begins, hesitating slightly, “I have a spare room. If you’re interested that is.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise that you’re gaping at her, mouth hanging open just a little and you hasten to shut it. “What – are you sure?” you sputter, “Because you don’t have to; it’s totally fine, I could just-”

“What?” she interrupts with a raised brow, “Live in a hotel room until you find somewhere to rent? Sounds fun.”

“Ryujin, I-” you falter searching for the right words. “Why?” is what you come up with in the end, looking up at her beseechingly.

Her face softens infinitesimally. “You look like you could use a friend,” she says, “A real friend. Someone other than your agent.”

There’s a bit of a sting hidden beneath her words, and you find yourself scuffing the loose gravel with the toe of your shoe. She’s not wrong; you have been in this industry for ages and while you have had acquaintances here and there, none of them had ever been able to quite move into the friendship category.

“You don’t even know me,” you warn, “I could be a terrible roommate.”

She shrugs. “Hey, if that idiot had the balls to date both of us and then cheat, we must have something in common, right?”

It gets a smile out of you. “I guess so.”

“So. You up for it?”

You duck your head for a moment to hide what must be a truly ridiculous grin. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m in.”

The two of you shake on it and two days later you move in with her. At least unofficially.

It’s a bit of a hassle getting everything together; you have to find your way back down to your old apartment considering Liv was the one who drove you up here in the first place, and then figure out what to pack in your car to tote back up to your new place. It’s in doing all of this that you realise the sheer amount of crap you have come to own. Really, you have no idea how your wardrobe didn’t explode before because you have a truly frightening amount of clothes.

At the end of it, everything works out for the best.

You and Ryujin spend the day before you’re scheduled to start shooting unpacking your things in the spare room and it’s… fun. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time, enthusiastically singing along to trashy pop music playing over the radio while the two of you unload box after box. It turns out Ryujin's spare room was a lab of sorts, all sorts of knickknacks and tools spread out.

“They were going to go back in storage when I started working again anyway,” she says, brushing off your concern as she dumps them into her previously empty boxes, “Relax Y/n.”

When it’s all said and done, the two of you find yourselves sprawled off on the sofa, watching some sort of mindless reality TV show while you split a pizza. As far as days go, this one is a veritable success, and, watching Ryujin trying to balance straws on her nose while they lounge around together in their pyjamas, you think that you made a good choice.

M A Y

Your first day on set is… interesting to say the least.

The couple of scenes you do go well, the cast is just as amicable as before and the crew is a riot. Not to mention you are slowly coming around making friends with a handful of other people around you. It makes you feel like you have somewhat successfully navigated your adult life.

That isn’t what makes it interesting though; no what makes it interesting is your run in with some overweening asshole while you were still in your car.

There’s a tap on the glass which causes you to jump, and when your head snaps towards the source, there is a man standing right by your door, frowning. He’s fairly handsome, with caramel skin and bedhead, extremely attractive, and you swear that you know him from somewhere but you can’t put your finger on it. You don’t dwell on it though, because he’s standing outside your car, arms crossed over his – admittedly broad – chest and looking thoroughly put out.

“Can I help you?” you ask, polite, after rolling down the window.

The man doesn’t seem to have any regards for manners however as his upper lip curls into a sneer and he says, “You’re in my parking spot, miss.”

You blink. You're fairly certain that this spot didn’t have anything labelling it as reserved when you pulled into it. So, like any person would do, you step out of the car to check. As you suspected, there’s nothing there saying that it belongs to anyone else and you whirl around to tell him as much.

He just scoffs at you in response. “Listen, I know you’re a newbie and all but that’s been my spot for the last two and a half years, so if you could kindly fuck off, it would be much appreciated.”

“Wow, a real gentleman, aren’t you?” you hiss, and then make a point about pressing the button on your keys so that your car locks with a cheery chirp. “This is the first time I’ve seen you all week so maybe you should be the one kindly fucking off.”

“All week, hmm?” he says, eyebrows raising, “Funny because in my two years of being here this is the first time I’m seeing you so.”

The way he says it makes it seem like you are the one at fault for taking an unmarked parking spot. It causes your hackles to rise and you find yourself sniping, “Well maybe if you spent less time being a diva and more time trying to be punctual, then maybe you’d have your precious parking space!”

His eyebrows seem to have disappeared up his hairline. “A diva?” he sputters, before glaring at you once more, “Please. As if you’re one to talk, miss.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you huff, before stomping your foot and saying, “And stop calling me miss, dammit! You don’t know me.”

“I know your type,” he drawls, and his lips twist into a smirk. The change in his expression is going to give you whiplash, you’re sure of it, what with the way he keeps going from angry to smug. He presses on, “Whiny girl trying to make it big. Thinks that the world has fucked her over and she’s out to show them that she’s more than just a pretty face.” You can’t help but wince as his words hit a little bit too close to home, and his smirk just widens. “If the glass slipper fits, Cinderella. Try not to break it.”

“Are you always this much of an asshole to strangers?” you fire back after a moment of hesitation, “Or am I special?”

“What do you think?”

“I think,” you sniff, hiking your bag up on your shoulder, “That you’re a dick and I hope someone spills hot coffee on that pretty face of yours.”

And with that you turn on your heel, stalking off to stage four where you are set to begin shooting today. He yells something indistinguishable from behind you and you don't even bother to turn around, just flip him off over your shoulder.

You stomp on to the set, seething over the altercation until Ryujin calls you out on it with a, “Who pissed in your coffee?”

“Haven’t had any as yet,” you reply, slamming your bag down on the table and reaching for the pot of the aforementioned drink.

“No wonder you’re glaring daggers at everything that moves. Coffee is essential, Y/n. It’s our ambrosia.”

That gets a smile out of you and you feel the tension slowly start to work its way out of your shoulders. You quickly fix your cuppa to suit – two sugars with the barest dab of milk – and take a huge sip, sighing as it washes down your throat. “I can believe that,” you say and take another sip. “But it wasn’t my caffeinated – or lack thereof – self that brought this on. Just some asshole in the car park.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I feel like I know him from somewhere so he’s probably an actor too, but god, he’s such a dick. I wanted to punch him in the face.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you. We all know you have got a mean right hook.”

You felt the heat creep up your neck and face. “I’m sorry, if that asshole had the gall to try and get back with you at your movie premier you’re telling me you wouldn’t punch him?”

“No, I’d kick him in the balls and take a picture to use as the newest reaction photo. Caption: when you get hit by the feels.”

You snort a laugh and drain the rest of your coffee. “I better head to hair and makeup. I have a feeling they are going to need some time to tame this into some form of neatness,” you say, gesturing to the tangle of your hair thrown together in a sloppy bun at the top of your head.

Ryujin nods, reaching for a peach. “I should probably do the same. After we are done we can raid craft services before Felix and Jeongin get to it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

After that, everything is smooth sailing and you easily push the incident from your mind, getting into character as you call them on set. You shoot three scenes that day, and you and Ryujin learn how to fire fake guns. It’s fun, and when you’re done, Felix suggests that they all head for celebratory pizza at Lia’s around the corner. You feel right at home with them, with all of your co-stars, as you chat and trade stories over weak beer and greasy pizza, and when you and Ryujin stumble back home later, you pretty much just collapse into bed, only toeing off your shoes.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, and on Friday you are the only one who needs to go in, leaving Ryujin at home watching cartoons curled up on their couch with a bowl of soggy cereal. It’s easier than you expected, having her as a roommate. You are both still careful around each other, but by each passing day the walls are slowly being chipped away.

“Want me to pick up anything on my way back?” you ask while slipping on your shoes.

She shakes her head. “Nah. Don’t forget though, I invited Minho over later. I can’t believe you’ve been here a week and you haven’t met him yet.”

“You mean your imaginary friend who lives down the hall?” you tease.

“He’s not imaginary,” she insists, laughter colouring her voice, “I don’t know why you keep insisting he is.”

“Probably because you keep referencing him but I’ve never seen him.”

“Because he’s working somewhere else in the meantime. He left Monday evening.”

“Uh huh,” you say, still sceptical, “Sure. I’m going now. Say hi to your other imaginary friends for me!”

You hear a loud, “He's not imaginary, dammit Y/n!” as the door shuts behind you and you can’t help but grin to yourself as you jog down the stairs.

* * *

Work is a bit boring today with most of the cast not there. You are needed for two scenes with a couple extras, one fake fight where your stunt double is doing most of the work, and then the resulting interrogation scene. It’s nice, but dull, and you take to snapchatting Ryujin various pieces of set equipment until you flip her off, not answering anymore after she presumably switches off her phone.

You get to leave early when your scenes are done, and stop off at the bakery around the corner to pick up some pastries before heading home.

Their voices can be heard through the door as you toggle the lock, and you can't help but bite back a smile when you hear Ryujin bark out a laugh.

“Honey I'm home,” you announce as you fling the door open, kicking your shoes off in the hallway.

There’s a muffled, “In here!” coming from the kitchen as well as the tantalising waft of spices that has your stomach growling.

The first thing you notice as you round the corner is the guy standing by the stove all messy yet neat hair and deliciously broad shoulders, stirring the pot while Ryujin goes on about something and your mouth waters for more than one reason. The second thing you notice when he turns a bit, giving you a glimpse of his side profile, is that he looks shockingly familiar. That one is fleeting however, only to be replaced by the third and final thing, when Ryujin finally sees you standing on the edge of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” she yells out in greeting, and when the man turns around, giving you a good look at his face, your jaw actually drops.

Because standing there in the middle of your kitchen, looking surly as ever is the parking space asshole.

Seriously, what the fuck.

“Y/n,” Ryujin says again, sliding off her perch on the counter, “This is Minho. The one who you thought were imaginary.”

“I wish he was imaginary,” you mumble under your breath.

“What was that?”

“I said we have met,” you correct yourself with a tight smile and that’s when his lips curl up in a lazy smirk.

“That we have,” he drawls, shoving his hands in his pants pocket. He nods at you in acknowledgement. “Miss.”

“Douchebag.”

Ryujin is looking between the two of you, perplexed. “How–” she falters, eyebrows creasing together.

“He's the carpark asshole,” you say, flat, and that’s when Ryujin laughs, loud and bright, bouncing off the kitchen cabinets.

“Nah,” she smirks, patting him on the shoulder, “Just a regular asshole.”

“Thanks Ryujin.”

She whirls around to face him, smacking his bicep lightly. “I can’t believe the girl you were complaining about was Y/n. And Y/n,” she says, cutting a glance back at her, “Why didn’t you tell me it was Minho? I would have helped come up with some more colourful insults for him.”

“Again, thank you Ryujin.”

You feel your cheeks get warm and you duck your head, saying sheepishly, “I uh, I didn’t exactly recognise him at first.”

You don’t have to look up to know that the pair is gaping at you. Well, Ryujin is gaping at you, that is. Minho on the other hand is still trying to be cool and pretend that he’s not bothered by your admission.

“...Seriously?”

“It’s not like I watch the show okay?” you defend yourself, “I only know about it in passing.”

“Yeah, but he was on like every news outlet for the first year of it because of his fuck ups.”

“Why am I friends with you again?” Minho asks to no one in particular and you both ignore him.

Ryujin is still frowning at you, looking at you a bit suspiciously. “You really didn’t know?”

“Trust me, if I knew who he was and that he was your friend, I wouldn’t have said half of those things,” you sigh, using both your hands to push your hair back. You look at Minho properly for the first time since you realised who he was, and he’s just as stupidly hot as before. It makes you frown. “So does being friends with my roommate mean that I’ll have to see you around here often?” you ask, and his grin turns wicked.

“Something like that,” he shrugs, being deliberately vague, and turns back to the stew bubbling away on the stove.

Next to him, Ryujin rolls her eyes and says, “He lives down the hall and he’s usually over most nights if our schedules permits it.”

You feel your eyes flicker close of their own accord. “Great,” you sigh, and then they snap open almost immediately. “Wait, he lives here?” You look between the two of them before pinching the bridge of your nose. “What, is there some sort of celebrity quota the complex needs to fill or something? Is James Franco gonna pop up downstairs while I’m getting my mail?”

“Why James Franco?” Minho butts in mildly as he turns the gas off, “Why not Dave? He’s obviously the better Franco.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” grouses Ryujin, stretching up to get the bowls from the top cabinet. The floor squeaks as she moves and you all wince.

“Need wheels for walking, Ryujin?” he asks, elbowing her out of the way to grab the bowls and he starts ladling the food into them.

“Nah. I just forgot to see about it this weekend,” she says, setting the table. You remain standing there in the kitchen, awkwardly holding the box of pastries. “Got sidetracked with a new show and all, this floor is still irritating though.”

“Uh huh,” he says, before his eyes drift over to you and he lifts an eyebrow, “What, you just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart?”

You jump, startled, and throw a weak glare at him. “No. Shut up,” you reply, placing the box on the counter and grabbing the cutlery from the drawer. Ryujin pops open a bottle of wine and soon enough you are all sitting in silence, eating. You have to begrudgingly admit that whatever it is he made ('Galbi Jjim,’ he had said, and the word sounds clumsy in your mouth) tastes amazing. Of course, you’re not going to tell him that; he’s already got a big head and you don't need to feed his ego even more.

You do however need him to feed you and Ryunjin more; his cooking is leagues better than whatever you and Ryujin can manage to put together.

When dinner is over and you have suffered through the appropriate amount of smalltalk, you finally give in and ask, “So how did this,” you gesture between them, “Happen?”

Ryujin cackles and it unnerves you just a bit.

“We hooked up after the incident,” Ryujin shrugs unashamedly. Minho shrugs but you notice a hint of redness creeping up his neck. “I woke up to this asshole sitting in my kitchen drinking my coffee–”

“Your shitty coffee,” he interjects and she elbows him in the stomach.

“–going through my apartment plans–”

“She wanted to move to the south side,” he snorts derisively, “Can you imagine? She wouldn't survive a week down there with the health junkies.”

“This is my story shut up,” Ryujin says without any heat behind her words, “But yeah, there we were, the random guy I hooked up with giving me real estate advice while he stood half naked in my kitchen, and the next thing I knew, I was signing the lease and he was helping me move in here..”

“Do all your friendships begin this weird?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to hide an amused smile.

She winks at you. “Only the good ones,” she says, and that gets a laugh out of you.

You offer to do the dishes after while they set up shop in the living room, bickering goodnaturedly over whose turn it is to pick something to watch on Netflix. You can’t stop your eyes from straying though, looking over at him ever so often for some strange reason.

* * *

Minho is an enigma.

On one hand, he seems like the type of person you wouldn’t mind having as a friend. His humour isn’t quite as dark as Ryujin’s but it’s drier, and he says almost everything with his lips curled up in a smirk, not to mention they have most of the same views on certain topics. That doesn’t stop the two of you from arguing all the time though; at the studio, at the apartment, it doesn’t matter where, you always find something to disagree over.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Ryujin says, rolling her eyes. You were running through lines on your break when Minho appeared, immediately throwing himself on the couch next to you, despite the fact that there were several other seats available.

“You are ridiculous,” you sulk, jabbing him in the ribs with your elbow just because.

Minho reacts like the mature adult he is by sticking his tongue out at you and swatting your thigh easily. “I’m just here to say hi to my friend Ryujin while I’m on lunch,” he says, loosening his tie, “Dunno what the princess’ reason is though.”

“I work here,” you reply, flat. “You’re literally on set where I work. Where else would I be?”

“Jesus, you guys are a headache,” sighs Ryujin when you and Minho start bickering once more, although you can hear the love peeking through. Somewhat.

“It’s his fault,” you mumble, and he tugs on your hair.

Ryujin groans again, swatting you both with her rolled up script. “The two of you are children,” she announces, ignoring your indignant yelps of pain.

It doesn’t help that Minho always seems to be around. He spends most of his lunch breaks on your set, dragging Hyunjin over with him, and then spends most of that time antagonising you. When you’re not filming, he’s over on your couch, needling them into watching the most boring movies ever, and you’re certain that the only reason Ryujin hasn’t kicked him out yet is because he makes them dinner most nights.

“Don’t you have your own apartment?” you somewhat grouse as soon as you spot him lounging on the couch one Sunday morning. You have just woken up, still squinting suspiciously at everything, and it’s not fair that he still manages to look so good that early in the morning. It accounts for about 30% of your bad mood.

Minho just gives you a quick up down, a hint of smirk making itself known and you refuse to fidget, refuse to pull down the shorts you know are riding high on your thigh, refuse to brush back the tangled snarl of hair partially obscuring your vision. “But if I was in my apartment then how would I see your beautiful face, sunshine?”

You don't even dignify that with a response, just trudging your way across the room into the kitchen where Ryujin is already sitting at the table, gulping down coffee like it’s her job.

“Does he ever go home?” you ask, rummaging around the fridge for some milk. “How’d you even put up with him before?”

She just shrugs. “He’s been around more often now that you’re here” she says offhand, and you glance sidelong at her, stopping mid stretch for the cereal box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, but she can’t quite hide the smug little smile pulling at her mouth. “Nothing at all.”

You are fairly certain that it’s something, so you press on, “Come on. Obviously you meant something with it. What aren’t you telling me?”

Ryujin slumps back in her chair with a roll of her eyes and pitches her voice low so that it doesn't carry. “Look, he used to visit before, yeah, but since you’re living here now, he’s coming over every day and actually leaving his set to come to ours. What do you think might have caused the change of heart.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “What are you insinuating, Ryujin?”

“You know damn well what I’m insinuating, Y/n.”

“I know that it sounds like a load of bullshit because-”

“Because it’s so implausible that Minho might like you?” she cuts in with a raised eyebrow, “I’ve known that boy for a while. There’s something going on with him. There’s something going on with both of you, and when it finally happens, I’m going to say I told you so.”

“Please,” you scoff as you drown your cereal in milk, “Nothing is going to happen between us.”

J U N E

“Fuck,” he says stumbling back. His eyes are wide and frenzied, lips red, and you're fairly certain you look the same way.

You run a shaky hand through your hair, possibly making it even messier but you don’t really care, not when you have bigger things to worry about like the fact that you just kissed Lee Minho while in the middle of arguing with him.

“Fuck.”

He breathes out a shaky laugh, fidgeting with the tie around his neck. “Pretty sure I just said that.”

“It deserves to be said again because – fuck.”

“Eloquent aren’t you?” he mutters, looking everywhere in the room but at you and you feel a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth.

“This never happened,” you tell him, taking a step closer and forcing him to look at you. “And this is never going to happen again. Got it?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw, eyes hard when he finally meets your gaze. “Whatever the hell you want, Y/n,” he says with abit of an edge, and you nod once before stalking out.

It’s only once you’re out of sight- of him, the trailer and everything else – tucked away in a dusty corridor that leads between studios, do you lean against the wall, breathing shakily as you brush the pads of your fingers across your lips, still tingling.

“Never again,” you mutter, already feeling the migraine building at the base of your skull.

now

M A Y

There’s sunlight streaming through the blinds, and you groan, throwing an arm over your eyes as you move further away from Minho. It’s warm, even with the air conditioner on full blast, and your body is sticky with sweat underneath the light linen blanket. You kick it off with a huff, hoping that maybe you can finally lapse back into a state of blissful unconsciousness, but it’s to no avail.

The bed vibrates with unheard chuckles and you crane your neck to throw a glare at him from over your shoulder.

“Shut up,” you groan. He's ridiculous, lying spread out on the bed without a stitch of clothing to his name, skin all pale and carmel smooth while his hair is a tousled mess. It's upsetting how good he looks, and you shove your face in your pillow so that you don't have to watch him a moment longer.

He just laughs again, this time louder and shuffles closer, ignoring your mewl of displeasure as he pulls his body flush against yours. “Good morning baby,” the coos in your ear before placing a line of sloppy kisses down the side of your neck.

You squirm in his arms, trying in vain to bat him away, but he just laughs again, letting his hair chafe against your skin as he grabs both your wrists and pins your hands above your head, sending a pang of want through you.

“Asshole,” you mutter, even as you tilt your head back to let him suck softly on your pulse point. The hand holding your wrists together applies a bit more pressure to them and he presses more firmly against you until you whine. “It’s hot,” you complain.

His teeth grazes your earlobe when he shifts, and you sigh, relaxing into him. “Mmm, that you are,” he says into your skin, free hand moving to palm your breast. Your lips part in a silent moan when he squeezes it, thumb flicking over your nipple, and he ruts against your ass, letting you feel him, already hard and hot.

“I’m all sweaty and sticky,” you warn, though your protests are getting more and more feeble by the minute, especially when he nips at your jaw gently, hand leaving your chest and moving south to brush across your clit.

His responding hum reverberates through you and you whimper as his fingers tease your cunt. “Well, let’s see if we could make you sweatier and stickier,” he says, and you have to huff out a laugh, startled and bright, because he’s ridiculous .

“What an – oh,” the rest of your sentence is replaced by a moan when he easily lifts your leg, hitching it over his hip, and slides in, all hot and heavy and perfect.

You whimper again when he grunts into your neck as he bottoms out, and you stay like that for a moment, just basking in the feel of each other before he finally starts to move.

He can only give you short, shallow thrusts like this, but more than makes up for it by using the pad of his thumb to rub gentle circles on your clit. You grind back against him, wrists straining against his hands, but he doesn’t let up, no matter how much you ask.

Then he’s hitching your leg up higher, changing the angle inside of you that has you seeing white, almost choking on your tongue as you spasm against him, wanting him to reach you deeper.

“Fuck, Minho, right there,” you beg, turning your head blindly in search of his lips, and he obliges you, giving you a kiss that’s more tooth than lip, but you still whimper, teetering on the edge.

Sweat gathers across your bodies, and you can feel your hair sticking to your temples, to the back of your neck, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when you inadvertently clench down on him. He finally lets go of your hands, only grabbing hold of your thigh, keeping it in place as he repeats the motion from before that has you seeing stars.

“Better?” he asks, voice strained, and all you can do is nod, too busy panting to string actual words together. You clutch on to the pillow when he does it a third time, free hand darting back down to pinch your clit, needing something to anchor you to reality.

“I’m so- I’m so,” you almost sob, thrashing, and his laugh is low and gravelly behind you, lips fastening to your pulse point and causing you to cry out. “Minho.”

He soothes you with sweet nothings muttered in your ear, but it does nothing to quelch the burning need inside you. Only when his fingers bear down on your clit too, thrusting in as deep as he can go, do you keen loudly, walls fluttering around him as you come.

It takes both of you by surprise, the sheer intensity of it, and for one brilliant, mind numbing moment, everything goes blank, and you just feel as though you're blissfully floating in space, electricity pulsing beneath your skin.

You come back slowly, your harsh breaths mingling with his as he softens inside of you, and he squeezes the fleshy part of your stomach gently before rolling onto his back. You go with him, twisting so that you now lie on his chest, sweat soaked skin sticking together, too lazy to actually go and clean up.

Minho pets the hair away from your face and pecks you on nose, laughing when you wrinkle it in response. “Morning,” he drawls again, hand trailing up your spine. “We should probably get up.”

You hum noncommittally, letting your head droop forward on his chest with a sigh. “I’m not moving for at least another hour,” you tell him, and he chuckles again, brushing his lips across the crown of your head. “Don’t let it get to your head” you tack on when you notice him crowing, and he pinches your thigh in response.

* * *

It’s Friday.

You have spent almost an entire week at his apartment, shirking your responsibilities in favour of playing house with Minho.

The intimacy should be too much: staying several nights in a row, cuddling with him after sex while he does things like that, but you can’t find it in you to muster up the energy to care, not when your blood is still roaring in your eyes and sheets have yet to cool.

“We've got time,” you think you hear him say through the fog settling in your mind, squeezing your hand, before you finally drift off.

before: 10 months ago

J U L Y

You get a late invite to the Seasonal Con.

Only Ryujin and you are going, along with the producer, and it’s not even a real panel, just a screening of the pilot episode to a group of maybe fifty people, and then fielding whatever questions the crowd might have.

It’s your first major event ever since you stumbled back on the scene two months ago and you're equal parts excited and terrified.

“Hey,” says Ryujin, nudging you gently as you turn out the sheets. You are both staying at your apartment instead of renting a hotel, since it’s only a half an hour drive from the convention centre. “Relax,” she says, “It’s not like we are going to be dealing with a lot of press or anything. Just smile and look pretty.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mumble under your breath, and this time there’s nothing gentle in the way Ryujin elbows you.

* * *

The morning that you are scheduled to go to the Seasonal Con, you are mostly fine. You get up and help Ryujin make pancakes for breakfast, then you shower and do your makeup, donning a cute sundress, and even going as far as to make sure your hair is in some semblance of order and that your makeup perfectly suits your dress.

You are fine.

Ryujin has to press her hand against your thigh to stop you from shaking your leg.

You throw her a thin smile in return. “What, you’re not gonna buy me dinner first?” you try to joke, but even you can hear how weak it sounds, and Ryujin gives you a meaningful squeeze.

“You got this.”

And she’s right. Mostly.

The screening is fine, the audience seems to be genuinely interested in the show, and they even garner more than a few laughs which probably made you disproportionately happy, but whatever. You are glad people are liking something that you helped to make. You do get asked a few questions later on, just a handful of things about the show that your producer answers mostly, and afterwards, a couple fans ask for pictures and autographs.

It’s all very textbook, but you breathe a sigh of relief once it’s all over, wringing out your shoulders.

“See?” says Ryujin with a grin as you walk out of the hall. The adjacent hallway is mercifully empty, free of any onlookers for a few moments. “You made it through.” You have got the rest of the day to yourselves and while you would rather go home immediately, Ryujin convinced you to stay a little while, just an hour or so.

“I guess it wasn’t that bad,” you concede, and Ryujin nudges you until you duck your head in a grin. “Fine, okay, it was fun. Jeez, you have pointy elbows.”

She just smiles angelically at you, and ducks out of the way before you can tug on her ponytail. “Everything’s better with Shin Ryujin around,” she announces.

“That is your new tagline, Ryujin?” a voice drawls from behind the two of you and both of you come to a stop.

You immediately recognise the speaker and your eyes fall shut as you take a calming breath, tilting your head heavenwards. You do not need this right now, especially not when your day was actually starting to look up. Ryujin on the other hand has no qualms about whipping around with a grin, saying a cheery, “Hey Minho,” in greeting.

He nods in acknowledgement before sidling alongside you, and you still have your eyes wrenched shut. “Y/n,” he says, lightly hip checking you.

That’s when you open your eyes, giving him a clinical up and down. He looks good as always, wearing a leather jacket over a soft tee with a faded Hogwarts insignia on it, and his cap is lurched lopsided in a way that is certainly not adorable. You think it might be a Pokemon one, but you don't want to spare him the extra thought.

You purse your lips. “Asshole.”

Minho chuckles, holding the door open for you as you enter the main part of the convention centre. People are swarming all over the place and while no one outright stares at them, you begin to feel the anxiety creeping back up your spine and quicken your pace, Ryujin right at your side.

“Hey, I’m just being nice,” he says, jogging to catch up with them.

“Fuck your nice.”

“Someone’s hostile today,” he frowns, staring down at you. His eyes flit over to Ryujin and he asks, “What’s up with her?”

“I’m right here you know,” you snap, “You don’t need to ask other people when I’m literally standing right in front of you.”

“Easy baby,” he soothes, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. There’s still a dip between his eyebrows as he appraises you carefully, and you look away, feeling a flush of hotness creep up the back of your neck. Behind you, you can feel Ryujin shaking with silent laughter.

“Leave me alone,” you say, shrugging off his arm and stalking off. You don’t get very far before the other two catch up to you, Minho catching you by your wrist this time.

He opens his mouth to say something – no doubt another snide jab at you – but is interrupted by a girl, clutching her phone tightly and staring at him in wide eyed amazement.

“I’m sorry, but can I get a quick photo please?” she says in a rush, “I’m a huge fan of your show!”

He presses his lips together in a line, giving you one last look, before turning to the girl with a charming smile. “Sure,” he says, posing for the selfie, and the next thing he knows, there’s a whole crowd around them, asking for autographs and pictures, blocking them in.

Honestly, the only thing that stops you from taking off then and there is Ryujin’s hand resting on the crook of your elbow through the entire ordeal. Besides, almost all of them are for Minho anyway. Hardly anyone spares them a second glance.

They must have been standing there for over five minutes before he says, loud and clear, “Sorry guys, I have to get to lunch, but I’ll be doing a signing at two if you want to come over.”

There’s general murmurs of disappointment from the crowd and they start to thin out. But, before they leave completely, Minho curls his arm around your shoulders with a, “Come on, love,” that sends a hushed whispers throughout the crowd and the tingle that was prickling under your skin moments before slams back into you, full force, no doubt faltering your public image.

Ryujin is all out cackling behind them and the moment you are all out of the public eye, you plan on ripping her a new one for her betrayal.

“You’re such a dick,” you hiss at Minho, trying to escape his hold. He just pulls you even further into his side and ducks his head to whisper,

“I’m doing you a favour.”

You try to ignore how warm and solid he is, how he smells like cinnamon and pine trees, but it’s proving to be difficult. “Yeah, well, you can shove your favour up your ass,” you mutter, and he throws his head back, barking out a laugh.

“You’ve got a real gratitude problem, you know that?” he says, almost bitterly.

“No, just a you-problem,” you retort in a saccharine voice.

“Easy kids,” says Ryujin , not even bothering to hide her smirk. “Be careful. You never know what this is going to look like to the outside eye.”

“There’s only one way murder can look to the outside eye, Ryujin,” you say, and he just scoffs.

“I try to do one nice thing for you and what do I get?” he says, mostly to himself, finally letting his arm slip off your shoulders as you near the end of this hall. “Not even a thank you. Last time I will try to help you.”

“Good I don’t want your help,” you snap, pretending that you don’t miss the heat and heaviness of his arm around you. Your fingers brush together when you walk though, and neither of you make any attempt to create some space between yourselves.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Oh my god, you’re like an old married couple,” says Ryujin exasperatedly and you both turn to glare at her.

“Shut up, Ryujin,” both of you chorus before snapping your glares over each other.

“Jesus,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes. “I’m just saying, keep acting like that and people are going to assume things.”

Minho makes a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “Please,” he says, leading them down the corridor, presumably where the rest of his cast is hanging out, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

* * *

Your phone barely even rings once before you’re swiping accept, not even sparing a glance at the caller ID. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she deadpans, voice scratchy with disuse.

On the other end of the phone, Liv sighs, a common reaction to dealing with your mishaps. “What happened yesterday?” she asks again, already sounding tired. That’s how you know this is a big problem, because Liv never sounds tired in the morning.

“Nothing!” you say, flailing wildly, “Seriously, we were arguing as usual. That’s it. Nothing about that screams romance.”

“So he didn’t call you ‘love’?” she asks dubiously.

You hesitate, biting your lip. “Well, yes,” you relent, “But he always calls me something ridiculous. It’s meant as an insult not a pet name!”

Liv seems to ignore you. “And did he put his arm around you?”

You hesitate again. “...Yes.”

There’s another sigh coming from her end of the phone, and you screw your eyes shut as you wait for the verbal smackdown.

“Come on Y/n,” Liv starts, “You’ve been in this business long enough, you know how the public perceives things. Especially things like this.”

You swipe a hand through your tangle of hair – damaged from all that damn hairspray – and toss it up in a slipshod bun. “Can’t you skew it?” you ask, “I’m not involved with him, I do not want to be involved with him. At all. Forever. Never in my life.”

There’s silence on the other end for almost a full minute before she says slowly, “We could just let it all blow over. Dating rumours crop up everyday.”

You lift your eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that we just leave it alone?”

“It should disappear by itself. After all, this is the first time someone alluded to your relationship with Minho as anything but professional. A lot of people are probably going to flat out deny it,” she tells you. “Let the internet work it out for itself. You’ll be old news by yesterday.”

“One can only hope,” you say, shoulders slumping. “Why did I come back to this hell hole? Why didn’t I start my hopefully lucrative llama farm?”

“Goodbye Yn.”

The phone goes dead and you pull it away to glare at it. “See, my llamas would put up with my bullshit Liv. They wouldn’t abandon me because of it.”

It’s only a few minutes to eight, but you can’t go back to sleep so with a disgruntled full bodied sigh, you roll out of bed to get started on breakfast. They have only been here for three days so far, driving back up tomorrow, so you are fully aware that the fridge is woefully scant, even with the groceries they picked up on the way. There are some eggs left over though, so you scramble them, and makes some toast to go with it.

You have given into temptation, scrolling through your Twitter feed as you wait for Ryujin to wake up, sipping on your coffee. It’s not terribly bad; it’s the most notifications you have had in a long while, and most of them happen to be the same question repeated over and over in a multitude of ways: Is there something going on between you and Minho?

Your fingers itch to answer them, or maybe even just vaguely tweet something but you resist, thinking of what Liv would say if you somehow made matters worse. You are saved from being a torment to yourself only a few moments later when Ryujin stumbles in the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot.

“What?” she asks once she’s inhaled half a cup and is now awake enough to notice you glaring at her.

You just groan and slide your phone across the table to her, before dropping your head onto your arms. When Ryujin reads the headline she snickers, absolutely delighted.

“You called this upon me,” you say, your words muffled by the tabletop. “You fucking called this on me.”

Ryujin pets your hair aimlessly, doing more harm than good. “Look on the bright side; it’s Dispatch. No one takes it seriously.”

“My Twitter feed is like 99 per cent of people asking me if Minho and I are dating. Or having hate sex.”

“Obviously it’s the latter.”

“Obviously it’s neither.”

“Oh come on,” she says, throwing her hands up, “You’re telling me that a little bit of hate fucking isn’t going to fix this-” she makes some sort of weird gesture with her hand that you can’t even begin to comprehend, “-this whatever it is going on between you two?”

Your traitorous mind jumps to the kiss, the way he felt so hot and solid beneath your hands as he pushed you against the wall, the way you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and a shiver runs down your spine.

Never one to miss anything, Ryujin narrows her eyes at you. “Unless you already did that,” she says slowly, taking in every bit of emotion that flits across your face.

“I didn’t,” you say, dropping your gaze to the worn and scarred tabletop. “But I did kiss him.”

“I knew it!”

“It was a one time thing that we both agreed to ignore,” you’re quick to point out, and Ryujin just snorts.

“Yeah. Right. Okay,” she says, “You can miss me with that ‘one time’ bullshit.”

“Ryujin!”

“What?” she shrugs, “It’s true. There’s obviously something there.”

“There’s nothing but hate and animosity there.”

“Again, I point you towards hate sex.”

“How about I point you towards the door instead. God, you’re worse than the internet.”

Ryujin holds her hands up in surrender. “Alright, let’s not get too crazy,” she says, although her smile is still far too smug. She takes another sip of her coffee. “But, just let it be known that I still reserve the right to say I told you so when it does actually happen.”

You just groan, letting your head fall against the table.

A U G U S T

Still though, you can’t help but think about Ryujin's words.

It’s not your fault okay? Ryujin just managed to make your mind conjure up some very…interesting scenarios for you over the last couple of weeks.

You can no longer look at Minho for, every time you do so, you can only picture the feel of his mouth on yours and wonder if it’s just as good at other things as it is as kissing, can only wonder what else those hands of his can do, can only wonder if he is as good as Ryujin slyly told you he was.

It’s turning you into a mess to be honest, which is why, a few weeks after they returned from Season Con, you find yourself blurting out, “Ryujin thinks we should fuck,” as soon as you are left alone in your trailer with him.

You wait until he’s taken a sip of water to say it, and you’re rewarded by him hacking his lungs out.

“Pray tell,” he wheezes, “Why does Ryujin think we should fuck?”

You shrug. “She says that it will help us get along better. You know, once we get rid of all that unwanted sexual tension. Purely platonic fucking and we can actually stand to be in the same room as each other.”

“Right,” he says, and there’s something a bit off to his voice. You look up almost immediately, frowning, and catch the tail end of some unknown emotion flitting across his face. He hitches an eyebrow when he catches you looking. “And what do you think?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I think’?”

He shrugs. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

You don’t understand how he can be so blasé about discussing it, not when you are already three steps closer to looking like an alarmed porcupine.

“I think it could be worth a shot,” you say, as casually as possible with your chin held high.

Across from you his mouth curves into the most sinful of smiles and he looks at you through hooded eyes. “You wanna fuck me, Y/n?” he murmurs, voice dropping several octaves, and it’s all you can do to not squirm in your seat, warmth settling heavy and wonderful in your stomach.

“It’s just a thought, okay? Ryujin might have definitely been onto something and who knows maybe it could work if we just fucked once and got it out of our systems I mean-”

“Hey Y/n?” he says, interrupting your steady stream of nonsensical babble, and you exhale shakily.

“Yeah?” He’s much closer than you remember him being, and when you look up, almost to the point where you can count each individual eyelash, you look elsewhere.

“Shut up,” he murmurs, and then his hand is wrapping around your jaw, bridging the gap between the two of you.

His mouth is just as you remembered, hard and warm, tongue flickering against yours as he pulls your body to him. You make a soft sound of surprise in the back of your throat, and your hands immediately dart to his hair, feeling the silky strands sift through your fingers. His thumb traces your cheekbone as he sucks on your bottom lip, and when your nails scratch at his scalp, he lets it go with a soft sigh of pleasure, kissing you even harder.

“Just to be sure,” you pant once you break apart and he starts sucking kisses down the column of your throat, “We’re doing this right?”

“If science says it’ll work then there’s no harm in giving it a shot,” he rasps against your skin, moaning a little when you pull on his hair.

“Ryujin said it, not science.”

He mutters something too low for you to hear as he kisses his way down to your cleavage. “Ryujin is basically science,” he tells you, looking up from your chest, “I’m taking this off,” he tugs at your camisole.

“I’d be more pissed if you didn’t,” you say, helping him pull it off. You arch up into him with a whimper when he suckles your breast through your bra. “Fuck, Minho,” you moan as you reach behind you to undo the clasp, needing to feel his mouth against your skin now.

His other hand skims across waist, leaving a trail of warmth in its path as it heads towards the snap on your jeans, and he deftly opens it with a twist of his fingers, wriggling his hand inside. “Hope this is alright,” he says, fingertips just ghosting across your underwear as he leans down to swirl his tongue around your nipple.

It takes you three tries to formulate words in your head, and even then all you manage to say is, “Very alright,” trying to tilt your hips to get more friction, feeling the heat of his palm through the thin scrap of fabric.

Only once you have said so does he dive right in, fingers slipping beneath the flimsy material of your underwear to stroke you and you both swear.

“Fuck Y/n,” he swears, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from one breast to the other as his fingers trace up your slit, “You’re dripping. How long have you been thinking about this?”

He sinks blunt teeth into your sternum until you whine. “A – a while. Ever since Ryujin brought it up the first time. And then you show up today – fuck ,” you cry, hips jerking up when his index circles your clit, “Do that again. Please Minho.”

He chuckles, pressing a smacking kiss to the outside of your breast, and repeats the motion, rubbing his thumb on your clit until you whine again.

“You have been thinking about this for what? The past half an hour while I have been sitting right next to you?” he asks, accidentally butting you in the chin as he tries to bite at your collarbone. “Shit babe,” he flicks your clit again, “Bet you’re all worked up, huh?”

“Minho, please.”

“Were you thinking about this the whole time?” he presses, rising up so he can get a good look at your face, your mouth just slightly parted while your eyes keep on fluttering, struggling to stay open. He slows his motions until you make a soft plaintive sound in the back of your throat and he can’t help but bend down to kiss you, sweet. “Come on, Y/n, tell me what you were thinking about,” he lets his teeth graze over her earlobe, “I wanna know, baby.”

“Your hands,” you whine, trying to get him moving again. He has to pin your hips to the couch to stop you from wiggling all over the place and it sends another flare of want through you. “I was thinking about your hands and – and–”

“And what?” he coaxes, letting his fingers ghost across your entrance. You jerk with it, pleasure curling at the base of your spine. “And what else Y/n?”

“Mouth. Your mouth, Minho.”

His lips curl up in a halfway smirk, pleased, and he presses a single finger into you, just barely. “You want my mouth on you, baby?” he asks, “You want my mouth on your sweet pussy?”

You clench down hard at his words, eyes screwed shut, and you feel the warmth flood your face as he laughs lowly.

“Please,” you murmur, and you feel his lips just barely brush across yours before pressing down more firmly in a soft exploratory kiss. He removes his hands, and you whine at the loss of contact, until he breaks the kiss, sinking to his knees before you.

“Whatever the hell you want, baby,” he says as he slowly peels your jeans off. He litters featherlight kisses up your leg, mouthing his way across the crease where your leg meets your hip. And then, without warning, he leans forward, nuzzling his face against your lace covered pussy, and you squeak in surprise. His hands come up to grab your hips, steadying you, and he repeats the motion, this time letting his teeth graze against your clit through the pathetic excuse for underwear, letting you moan.

“So fucking wet,” he mutters again, a hint of awe colouring his voice, and you flush hot, trying to get him to put his mouth on you for real.

He does away with your underwear quick enough, leaving them in a sad little crumpled heap on the table next to the couch, before ducking back down to lick a fat stripe straight up your centre that sends your pulse skittering.

One of your legs hooks behind his shoulder as he steadies himself, and the hands pinning your hips flex, lifting you closer to his mouth as he laps at you with long licks, making an enthusiastic sound in the back of his throat. There’s nothing slow and gentle about it, very little finesse to be found, but it still has you curling your toes and keening loudly, especially when he slips one, then two fingers in, scissoring you wide open so he can truly fuck you with his tongue.

It doesn’t help that Minho seems just as into it as you are, low groans pressing into your flesh, the vibrations of it doing all sorts of things to your body.

His mouth is even better than you thought, and within minutes, you’re pulling on his hair when he sucks your clit in his mouth, high pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat as you clench down hard on his fingers, coming with a broken gasp of his name that has him grunting into the side of your thigh.

He groans when you pull him up, and you lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth while tugging on his stupid robes. He’s still fully dressed in costume while you are laid out wantonly before him.

“Off,” you command, nibbling on his lip.

Minho pushes you away gently, stealing one last kiss before starting to undo the million and one clasp that holds his costume in place. “Condom?” he asks, voice pitched low in a way that makes you shiver. He can’t seem to look away from you, eyes dark with want and you bite your lip.

“I’m supposed to have one in my bag,” you say, stretching for it, “Hurry up."

“You always this bossy?”

“You always this slow?”

Your fingers quickly find the foil packet, and you rip it open as fast as you can. He’s finally naked by the time you turn back around, and you push him down roughly on the couch, climbing onto his lap. He’s all lean muscle, broad and firm beneath you, and you can’t help but run an appreciative hand down his chest as you fix him to your liking.

Minho chuckles, palming your ass as you settle on him. “You are bossy, huh?”

You smile at him sweetly, wrapping your fingers around his cock and feeling him twitch in your palm. “I just know what I want.”

There’s a muscle ticking in his jaw that you just want to bite into as he nods, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Then by all means, Y/n.”

In another time you would taste him, drop to your knees and take him in your mouth, but right now you just want him, already too keyed up from before to do nothing else besides give him one last squeeze and then roll the condom on, quickly sliding onto him in way that has you both groaning.

“God, Y/n,” he shudders, already sounding wrecked. He squeezes your hips again, leaning up to mouth at your breast, and you gasp, rocking down on him.

It takes you a few moments to find the rhythm, and even then it’s still sloppy and hot and oh so good in a way that you find yourself digging your nails into his shoulders. He keeps his mouth on your breasts, and each tug of your nipple sends a shock wave of pleasure directly to your cunt, and you throw your head back with it, moaning.

As you both near climax, your moves get more and more frantic until Minho grabs hold of your hips, pulling you down forcefully, your clit catching on the bump of his pelvis each time, and you come with a broken moan, slumping against him. It triggers his own release, and he thrusts up into you, once, then twice, before tensing up beneath you, coming with a low growl as he sags into the couch.

For a moment there’s nothing but the sound of your harsh breathing, and you sigh into his neck as the sweat cools on your skin.

“We should probably clean up,” he mumbles, eyes still closed and you nod, slowly sliding off of his dick, moaning a little when your cunt gives a feeble little flutter. He just groans unashamedly, staying right there slumped on your couch, arm thrown over his eyes, until you throw his pants at him.

“Get dressed,” you tell him, slipping into your bathroom to clean up. Your skin is coated with a thin layer of sweat and he made a total mess of your hair, but you pay no attention to it, giving yourself a perfunctory rub down with a washcloth before slipping back into your clothes.

When you return, he’s almost ready, fidgeting with his tie. He didn’t bother to do anything with his hair, but it’s not like anyone would be able to tell the difference.

You take a deep breath. “So.”

“So.”

“Think we got it out of our systems?’

He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. Only time will tell I guess.”

“Right.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of you willing to meet the other’s eye until Minho blurts out, “I feel like I’m supposed to shake your hand or something. You know, properly close the deal.”

It gets a giggle out of you. “Didn’t realise we were making a business deal here.”

“Well, you never know,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets with the barest glimmer of a smile. “The handshake makes sure you know that it’s one and done.”

“Oh, of course it does.”

Another bout of silence falls over the two of you during which you just stand there, smiling at each other like a pair of loons until Minho clears his throat.

“I should, uh, probably get going,” he says, raking a hand through his curls as he squeezes past you to get to the door, and you nod.

“Right.”

“Right.”

He turns around just before he leaves, mouth open to say something else, but he ends up just shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “See you around, Y/n.”

now

M A Y

You should have left already. Instead you are lying on the couch, spooning with one Lee Minho as some mindless cop drama plays out on TV. It’s becoming a habit.

“Can you do that with your gun?” he asks, voice dripping onto your skin like honey. One of his hands has found its way under the sweatshirt you stole from him, resting heavily on your stomach.

You barely even glance at the screen. “I can barely even keep a good grip on my gun,” you confess. “It’s always falling all over the place.”

He hums in response before you lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the show. You are more than content to lay there, feeling his warmth all around you, his breath stirring your hair, his heart beating against your back.

It’s nice.

Eventually you do have to leave, glancing at the clock on the wall before saying, “I should probably go. It’s getting late.”

Minho makes a soft, plaintive sound in the back of his throat and pulls you closer. “Or you could stay. Ryujin’s flight doesn’t get in for another three hours. You have some time to kill.” His hand skims across your stomach, light, and you actually find yourself considering it.

With a shake of your head you sigh, “No, I really need to get going. I still need to pick up dinner before you get here. And make it look like I was actually living in the apartment these past few weeks.”

He chuckles at that, nosing the nape of your neck. “Point,” he says, even as he tightens his hold on you, reluctant to see you go. “Or we could take a nap, order pizza and forget about cleaning in the first place. You know, like what we’ve been doing everyday for the past week and a half.”

You snort, batting his hands away and finally sitting up. “Right. And then what will I tell Ryujin when she asks why the apartment’s been abandoned for a month?”

He’s silent, causing you to glance at him while you stretch out your arms. Minho is never one to shy away from telling you what he really thinks, and his sudden apprehension has you tilting your head quizzically. Eventually he looks back up at you for a brief second, and then sets his jaw, fingers trailing across your skin distractedly.

“You could always tell her the truth,” he hedges, hand tightening on your waist and you freeze mid stretch.

“Why?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

Minho shrugs, still overly casual and unable to meet your gaze. “I mean, we’ve been sneaking around for a while now. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“No,” you say, slowly, “Because we both said that this was a one time thing, and when it wasn’t, we both agreed not to mention it to anyone. For both our sakes.”

“Well, things have changed now, haven’t they?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “We’ve been doing this for nine months, Y/n.”

“We’ve been doing this on and off for nine months, Minho.”

He ignores you, pressing on, “You can’t tell me everything's the same, especially not after December,” and when he finally looks up at you, your stomach drops.

Ever so slowly, you stand up, stepping away from the couch and out of his reach. The TV is nothing more than white noise in the background.

“Actually, I can,” you say, voice brittle, and he freezes.

You never used to hook up at home, you never used to stay over, you never used to share inside jokes and smiles, tweeting and subtweeting each other, posting selfies together for the world to see.

“Because this has been kept separate from the rest of our lives in a neat little box.”

He sneaks kisses from you sometimes when he comes over to spend the evening with you and Ryujin, holding your hand under the table. You get asked questions about each other at cons, and you distinctly remember that one time he told a fan that you were ‘only a fucking amazing and a phenomenal actress who he’s glad to know.’ You have a drawer of your clothes in his wardrobe, but you still choose to steal his.

“Nothing has changed, Minho, not for me. Not between now and last fucking August.”

You think about the shampoo bottle he keeps in his shower for you, the herbal tea he stocks in his cupboards. You think about how you have memorised his favourite songs, can rattle off his favourite passages from any book to the way he won’t eat ice cream unless it’s in a cup with the cone crumbled into it.

Minho sits on the couch, unmoving except for the clench of his jaw that has the muscle popping. “So I guess that’s that then?” he asks quietly, looking up at you, face blank.

You nod once, your chest feeling too tight. “Yes,” you reply, just as quiet and weak as before, and then turn on your heel to leave. He doesn’t say another word, not even when you shove your feet in your shoes and walk out, the door closing behind you with a soft snick.

You fumble with the key to your own apartment, the too long sleeves getting in the way and you end up swiping furiously at the frustrated tears that have inexplicably gathered in your eyes. Once inside, you brace yourself on the counter, taking deep breaths as your vision blurs for one startling moment, trying to ease the pain in your chest.

Your eyes are still too bright when you pull away, but you steady yourself, pulling off his sweatshirt and throwing it in the dark recess of your closet before starting to clean, trying to get your mind off of things.

It works, somewhat, but later, once Ryujin is home and safely bundled in bed, you sit with your phone in your lap. Minho is the second person in your inbox, right under Ryujin’s flight confirmation, sending you a stupid pick up line a few hours ago. You open up the chat and slowly types out your message with shaking fingers.

Y/n: i think we should stop seeing each other

His response comes seconds later.

Minho: fine.

The words from before have left a bitter taste in your mouth that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t get rid of it. It’s the taste of a lie and heartbreak all rolled up in one, and this time you can’t rid of the tears with just a few swipes.

before: 5 months ago

D E C E M B E R

“What,” you say flatly, still staring at Ryujin, with your arms crossed.

The other girl just smiles at you. “You heard me.”

“What I heard was that you want me to take your place at the award show next week because your dislocated disc is giving you trouble. The very same award show that you were attending with Minho,” you say, still terribly unimpressed, “Surely I heard wrong.”

“No, you heard correct. And I already cleared it with Liv. She thinks it’s a good idea, especially since the show is doing so well.”

“You talked to Liv ?” you sputter, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Ryujin shrugs, looking entirely too innocent from where she’s laid spread out across your couch. “Because I know that you wouldn’t do it if I didn’t bring in the big guns. I’m covering all my bases.”

“Goddammit Ryujin.” You scrubbed a weary hand across your face.

“So is that a yes?” she asked, phone already in hand, “Because I can’t wait to let the internet know about this. Your shipper fans are going to lose their minds.”

You can just imagine, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. Liv’s solution of ‘letting things blow over’ had backfired stupendously and you are certain that at this point everyone and their mother wanted to see you date Lee Minho.

“I fucking hate you.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

* * *

That’s how you find yourself a week later, being ambushed by a team of make up artists as they help get you ready for the night while Ryujin sits off to the side with an oversized bag of crisps, flat out cackling at you.

“I really fucking hate you,” you grit out, trying to at eye her while one of the make up hands fix your eyebrows.

Ryujin just laughs again, wincing a bit as she shifts herself on the chair. On one hand, you know that her back has been giving her trouble these past few days, especially because of the cold weather and shooting, but on the other, you really hate her for making you do this.

“You should see your timeline right now,” she snorts, “Everyone is so frenzied.”

“I’m going to beat you to death with a curling iron.”

She just blows a kiss at you, continuing to chortle while you scroll through your phone. “The general consensus is that you’re either going to tell the world you’re finally dating, or let everyone know that you’re pregnant and Minho’s the baby daddy.”

“The only thing keeping me sane right now is picturing stabbing you multiple times with a mascara wand,” you hiss, yelping when someone pulls on your hair a bit too roughly.

“Look on the bright side,” says Ryujin , “At least you too get along now. Somewhat. And I can promise that Minho is an absolute joy to be around during these things. He’s almost better than a hip flask.”

You’re glad that Ryujin’s not paying attention to you, for she would have caught how you can’t maintain an eye contact at the mention of Minho and your relationship.

Turns out that sleeping with Minho couldn’t be a one time thing.

Who knew?

It’s not a regular thing, but you still do it often enough that you’re no longer snapping each other’s heads off, but instead engaging in playful banter.

It’s nice. Somewhat.

You would just like everyone to know that it only started up because he’s just really, really good with his hands.

And mouth.

And…everything else.

You are jerked out of your reverie by a knock on the door, and Ryujin practically flounces over to open it, a massive shiteating grin spread across her face as she does so.

“Minho!” you hear her say, bright and happy, “Come in. She's still not ready yet; give her a couple more minutes.”

“You’re awfully perky for someone who claimed to be in debilitating pain,” he says, sounding suspicious.

“It’s the painkillers. Come sit!”

You catch a glimpse of him as he passes in front of your door and well. Your jaw doesn’t quite drop, but it certainly comes close to doing that, and your cheeks just heat even further.

Minho looks really good in a suit.

Like insanely good.

Ryujin darts back into the room, and, after taking one look at you, she bursts out laughing again, even as she throws herself on the bed. She’s having far too much fun with this, and you kind of want to throw something at him.

“You so want to hit that,” Ryujin whispers, smug.

I am already hitting that, you almost say, the words on the tip of your tongue, but you easily swallow it down, schooling your face into a scowl.

“If you mean take a frying pan to his face then yes,” you nod, and then wince again as a hair pin digs into your scalp.

“All done,” says the girl, before spritzing perfume on you. You almost choke on a cherry blossom scented cloud, and when it passes, Ryujin is standing by the door, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. You may or may not have deliberately stepped on her good foot.

“Come on Cinderella,” she says, linking your arm through yours once you stand up, “Let’s get you to the ball.”

“I hope a spider crawls in your mouth when you’re sleeping tonight.”

You do manage to school your face in a pretty neutral expression when you enter the living room, and it seems as though Minho was preparing himself beforehand, as he barely reacts to your appearance, only giving you a cursory look up and down. The only tell is the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from looking too smug.

“Do I meet your standards?” you can’t help tease him, and his eyes snap up to yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I guess you’ll do,” he sighs dramatically, and offers you his arm.

“Have her home no later than eleven, Minho!” Ryujin calls out as you are both walking out the door.

He flips you off behind his back. “Fuck off, Ryujin,” he bites out, succinct.

Her laughter follows you all the way down the hallway and you grumble, “She’s a goddamn menace,” while hiking up your dress to walk down the stairs.

“That she is,” he nods before looking sidelong at you. “You look nice.”

Your heart picks up pace on its own accord. “Thanks. So do you.”

“Thanks,” he says, and you can’t mistake the the humour in his voice. You elbow him in the rib and he laughs. “What? What did I say?”

“You’re a dick,” you huff, still trying to calm your traitorous heart, and that just makes him laugh louder.

“The car should be here in a moment,” he tells you as you come to a stop in the empty lobby. You just hum in response, glancing around aimlessly until he says, “Hey, Y/n?”

Before you can turn to look at him, he’s cupping your jaw, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you sweetly. You make a sound of surprise in the back of your throat, but then you’re kissing him back, just as slow, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, while the other fingers his tie, and he breathes a soft sigh of relief, pulling you flush against him.

When you pull apart, he rubs his nose against your cheek gently, mumbling, “You look really nice,” and swipes a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away, slipping his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

You are fairly certain the whole neighborhood can hear your heart stammering at this point, but you still reach out for his arm, looping yours through it as you say, “You look really nice too, Minho.”

The boyish grin he gives you makes your heart stutter in your chest, and then he glances at his phone. “Come on; car’s here.”

He helps you into the backseat before slipping in himself, and then lets his arm rest on the small area of your back the entire drive there. You take advantage of it, leaning into his warmth, and you feel him trace mindless patterns on your waist in response.

“You have some lipstick,” you say, noticing the smudge of it on his mouth. He swipes at it with his hand, but misses the spot completely and you reaches up, thumb rubbing the corner of his mouth. “I got it,” you mutter, getting it out completely, and he presses a kiss to your temple in turn.

“Thanks love,” he says, looking at you impossibly soft and you feel warm all over, very different from the first time he called you "love".

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, because soon enough you are pulling up to the venue where the event is being hosted and you are being blinded by the flash of cameras.

The whole walk down the red carpet is a blur in your mind, filled with cameras and questions and the warmth of his arm hooked around yours as he leads you through. You stop only once or twice for pictures, and you paste on a wide grin for those, posing next to him until his arm hooks through yours again, pulling you inside.

The awards themselves are boring, intended mostly for crew members, but Minho keeps you from nodding off with his hand on your thigh the entire time, tracing maddening patterns that you feel even through your layers of skirts.

“Stop that,” you hiss while Chan continues to drone on onstage. You catch his wrist and he flips his hand over, linking your fingers together.

“If we sneak out no one is going to notice,” he mumbles under his breath, “This thing is boring at fuck, and I haven’t had you in over two weeks.”

Despite the flash of heat his words send through you, you say, “And who’s fault is that?”

“Hey, what am I supposed to do? Tell them not to shoot offset because then I wouldn’t get to fuck you?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“It’s true,” he mutters, glaring up at the stage. “Chan doesn’t know when to shut up. I could make it worth your while instead.”

“You know, Ryujin told me that you made these things fun and I needn’t bring a flask, but I’m starting to think that I should have smuggled it in anyway.”

Even in the dim light you can see the shine of his teeth as he grins. “Hey, I’m offering to make things fun and you’re turning me down.”

You turn to run a critical eye over him and he stares back, unflinchingly, his irises more black than brown, and positively irradiating lust. “Hmm. Fine, maybe later. Now behave,” you hiss.

The grin just widens and he leans in close, letting you feel the warmth of his thigh as it presses against yours. “Oh baby,” he sighs, untangling your hands, so that he can go back to teasing you. You manage to repress a shudder when his fingers press against the dip between your thighs through your dress. “You don’t want that.”

Miraculously, you manage to get through the entire programme without drawing too much attention to yourselves, though you do go through quite a few glasses of champagne, especially when you show him that two can play at that game, palming him through his slacks in a way that almost made him choke the first time.

You get out of there as soon as it’s done, escaping fairly unnoticed through the throngs of people, and he goes down on you, quick and messy, in a cramped utility closet, far enough from the hall that you can be as loud as you want. After you repay the favour, giving him a lazy handjob before switching to your mouth when you realise that you have nothing to clean up with.

Neither of you remember to stagger your entrances back into the hall, and slip in with your fingers still tangled together, your dress obviously crumpled and a telltale redness blooming on the apples of Minho's cheeks. To anyone paying attention, it would be clear as day what you were up to, but you are lucky enough that you only garner one or two looks in passing. Minho stays glued to your side, hand heavy on your hip the rest of the night, and when it’s time to leave, he slings it around your waist, keeping you close.

You make out for a while, trading soft sloppy kisses in the back of the car all the way home. He tastes a little bit like champagne, all bubbly and sweet, and you melt into him, carding your fingers through his unruly hair.

“Had fun?” he mumbles against your cheek, exhaling heavily when you bite his jaw. He gropes you in retaliation, and you squeak.

You pull back far enough so he can see your truly outrageous smile. “I guess you made it worth my while after all,” you muse, and he chuckles, pulling your mouth back to his.

He walks you up, arm slung around your shoulders, holding your heels in the other, and you bury your nose in his bicep breathing him in. When you reach your door, Minho lets his arm fall, reluctantly, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. It’s chaste and sweet, and starkly different from any other kisses that you have shared these past few months during your on and off hook ups, and even though you’re somewhat drunk, it still feels like a turning point.

“See you later, Y/n,” he says, with a slight wave of his hand and by the time you gather your bearings to tell him the same, he’s already clicking his door shut.

Ryujin is still up when you walk in, face illuminated by the blue light of her phone screen, and she grins like a shark that’s caught blood.

“Don’t,” you say, slumping against the door. You try to tamp down on the giddiness to avoid suspicion, but Minho left you feeling like you are floating on air.

Her grin just widens and she turns the phone towards you. “There is going to be so much fanfiction written about you two tonight,” she snickers, “You two have been trending on Twitter for almost an hour now,” and you just flip her off, heading to your room.

You throw yourself on the bed with a contented sigh, grinning into your pillow.

later

J U N E

Despite being back in the spotlight for well over a year, you still don’t do very well with interviews.

Most of those in the beginning were what you expected: what happened between you and your ex boyfriend, where did you go for six months, and are you sure you are not in any relationship right now?

Then Minho started getting incorporated into your interviews as well.

If you had a nickle for how many times you have been asked if you were dating, you’d have enough money to buy a small island where you might be able to escape him once and for all. If you wanted to, that is.

It took you a while, but eventually you managed to accept interviews, no longer panicking at the sight of one, but for some reason today you’re on edge, trying not to fidget as you sit on the lime green sofa opposite an annoyingly peppy interviewer.

When she deviates from the script however, you realise that you have had good reason to have been tense all morning.

“So what’s happening with you and Lee Minho? It’s been quite a while since we have seen any interactions between you two.”

It’s been four weeks and three days to be exact, the numbers jumping to the forefront of your mind almost immediately.

Next to you, Ryujin stiffens, all but baring her teeth at the interviewer in a snarl, vastly different from the times when she used to kill herself laughing.

You don’t know exactly what happened between you and him, but you figured out enough when Minho stopped coming around as much, and you started making excuses to avoid seeing him.

You take a shaky breath and flash the peppy woman a tight smile, the closest to a ‘fuck you’ you can give and says, “We’re just friends, that’s all. And we’ve been busy these past few weeks. Not as busy as Ryujin though. She just did this amazing movie…”

Thankfully no one questions your completely unsubtle segue and Ryujin is more than happy to take the pressure off of you.

What’s happening between you and Minho? Well, you still have his sweatshirt crumpled into a ball and hidden in your closet. You have exchanged maybe five words a piece at most, and he still has a drawer filled with your things over at his place. You ran into each other on the last day of filming, your cars parked next to each other, and it reminds you of that first day when you almost had a yelling match right there in the parking lot. Instead, he just nods and gives you a wide enough berth so you wouldn’t even brush against each other as he gets in his car.

You miss him, something which shocked you to the very core when you realised it a few weeks back, and you have never wanted to kick yourself as much as you did then for throwing everything away.

What’s happening between you and Minho?

Who knows; you fucked it up.

later

J U L Y

This year, Seasonal Con is more eventful for two reasons.

The first being that your show has an actual fandom now – a real, honest to god following, larger than you would have thought possible, who are so involved with the show that it’s both amazing and a tad bit scary. Not to mention those who want your character and Ryujin’s to get together.

“We have shippers,” Ryujin had informed you gleefully one night, and you distinctly remember groaning out loud before cursing to high heaven because you have had enough shipper madness to last a lifetime. Possibly even two lifetimes.

The second reason is a bit of a harder pill to swallow.

You got invited to the fan favourite panel on the last day.

And so did Minho.

Who the event supervisors thought would be nice to put next to you for an hour in front of hundreds.

If you get out of this weekend alive, you are going to thank every god and deity you can think of.

Ryujin is understandably worried once you get the news, immediately coming up with a variety of ways to get out of it. “You could fake sick, or pretend to lose your voice,” she rattles off, “Or maybe you fell down in the shower the night before and broke your hip-”

“It’s fine,” you interject, squaring your shoulders. You try to smile at her but you are pretty sure it falls flat. “What’s the worse that can happen?”

She doesn't seem impressed by that answer because she replies, “You and Minho air your dirty laundry for the entire world to see.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you say resolutely.

“At this point I don’t put anything past you two,” she mutters, and you nudge her with your toes.

* * *

The day of the actual panel, you take Liv’s advice and try to meditate in the morning in hopes of calming yourself. It helps a bit; you are not quite as jumpy as you could be, but you are still definitely on edge, clutching your purse like a lifeline as you navigate the halls on your own.

The waiting room is mostly empty, with just a few people here, but that’s not what you pay attention to, eyes immediately landing on Minho, hunched over his phone in the corner.

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

You really, really miss him, didn’t realise just how much of an impact his presence alone has on you.

Before you know it, your feet are taking you to him, and you carefully sit next to him on the loveseat, wiping your palms on your skirt several times.

He doesn’t notice you until you clear your throat, to which he stiffens, very slowly looking up, eyes guarded.

“Hi,” you say, quiet, tucking an errant curl behind your ear.

“Y/n,” he nods, impassive as ever and you feel your throat clog up.

You worry your bottom lip for a moment and see his hand twitch, as though he was about to pull it free. “I, um – can we talk?”

Minho just stares at you for a good minute or so, to the point where you’re struggling not to fidget. Finally he just scrubs a hand down his face and hisses, “Now? You want to talk?”

“I-”

“It’s been an entire month, Y/n,” he says bitterly, shifting away from you, “What could you possibly have to say after an entire month, that we won't work out anything that was between us?”

Your eyes burn and you stare at your hands clenched tightly in your lap. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice catching on the end of it. You can feel him staring at the side of your head, and you press on. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt with everything, and I… I miss you, Minho.”

When you finally muster up the courage to look back at him, his eyes are squeezed shut, pained.

“Don’t,” he manages to croak out and you jerk back as though you have been hit.

“Min-”

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” he tells you after taking a deep breath, “You don’t get to do this right before we do a panel together.”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

The next hour is the longest hour of your life. You slip on your public persona mask easily enough, smiling and laughing, and answering your questions as coyly as possible, but on the inside you are a mess. A shaking, confused mess.

After the panel is over and all requisite photos have been taken, Minho grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you along behind him. You follow without a word, barely sparing a thought for the shutters you hear going off as you weave through the crowd. That’s a bridge you will cross when you get there. Or you might just avoid it all together. What’s one more thing to the whole ‘Y/n and Minho’ story, right?

Only when you end up outside at the pick up area do you ask, “Where are we going?”

Minho doesn’t even glance over at you. “My hotel I'm staying at. It’s only five minutes away, and a lot more private than a spare room at a convention centre.”

You stare down at your feet, “Okay,” you say, and then follow him in the cab that pulls up.

The short ride to the hotel is tense, and you find yourself biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from speaking after firing off a quick text to Ryujin. Minho still doesn’t look your way, choosing to glare at the window instead, jaw clenched tight, even when you are dropped off, he just jerks his head in the general direction with a gruff, “Follow me.”

Once the door to his room has clicked shut, he turns to look at you, face impassive and arms crossed. “You wanted to talk? Then talk.”

You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about before,” you start, “I – you’re one of my best friends here, Minho, one of my only friends here besides Ryujin, and I was so fucking scared when you – I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships, and you – you’re too important to me to lose, so I’m sorry, and it was my fault we got in this whole mess in the first place, and if you forgive me, can we still be friends at least? I miss you.”

You say all of it in one go, and by the time you are through, you're heaving. Still, when he opens his mouth to speak, you hold a palm up and continue, voice wavering, “I just- I really fucking miss you and I’m so, so sorry.”

The words just hang there for a moment while you lean against the wall.

“You through?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow. When you nod, he says, “You’re a pain in the ass–”

“Charming.”

“–who’ll argue with me about every fucking thing under the sun no matter what-”

“Oh stop it, I’m swooning, Minho.”

“You gonna be a little shit the whole time, or can I say my piece?” he asks mildly, and you feel stupid. When he’s certain you are no longer going to interrupt, he throws himself back on the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his face. After a few seconds of silence, he confesses, “Ryujin called me out in like two weeks,” voice slightly muffled by his bicep, “Apparently my crush on you was painfully obvious.”

What?

You must have said it outloud because then he’s craning his neck slightly to glance at you, and you just feel like a dense idiot even more, picking your jaw up off the ground. “But you,” you sputter, “You were such a dick!”

He’s groaning again, hiding his face, but if you look closely you can see the tips of his ears tinged red. “I was into you. Am. And terribly so.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t want to fuck it up. Which, I realise is what I might have done the moment we agreed to continue having sex with each other, but I was just…so eager to have you in any way I could, even if it meant pretending that I wasn’t pinning away.”

“But…why?”

“Why what?”

You bite her lip, scuffing the toe of your sandal against the carpet. “Why me?”

Minho just gives you a little shrug, smiling helplessly. “Because you are you,” he says, easy as nothing, and those four little words make all the air in your lungs leave with a whoosh, causing you to stumble back against the wall in order to stay upright. “You had me on my ass within seconds with your no bullshit type attitude and I just…I don't know. You threw me for a loop.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says, messing with his hair. “You – God, Y/n, didn’t you realise? You had me. Every single thing you did just bewitched me, I couldn’t look away, and then I started to get to know you, all of you; the bossy little you who likes to order me around and sleep until noon, and prefers green tea to black, and I…I fell in love with you,” he breathes, tearing his eyes away from yours to stare up at the ceiling, “I don’t know how, or when, but I just- I’m in love with you.”

If his previous statement made the air leave you, then this one makes you feel lightheaded and faint hearted all at the same time. The word ‘love’ echoes throughout your head and you feel a bubble of happiness growing in your chest, and you slip down the wall a little as you try to make sense of the rest of his words.

He chuckles nervously when a few moments pass and you haven’t said anything as yet. “Please tell me if I just fucked up this whole new ‘friendship’ thing so I can take it back. Five second rule applies here, right?”

It startles a faint laugh out of you. “It’s been more than five seconds.”

“Five minute rule then?” And you laugh again, this time louder, and then you are crossing the room to meet him, clumsily climbing on top of him and bracing your hands on his chest.

“You goddamn idiot,” you huff as he grabs your hips, steadying you, “I’m in love with you too.”

The smile that unfurls across his face could crack it in two, absolutely blinding, and you shriek when he sits up suddenly, one hand moving up to cup the back of your neck while the other pulls you into his chest, lips ghosting across yours.

Then he’s kissing you soundly, lips chapped and eager, and it’s messy, the two of you grinning far too widely to make anything work.

“Oh, thank god,” he rasps into your skin, forehead pressed against yours, and then he’s kissing you again, slower this time, and deep, and you just hug him tighter, licking the joy from his tongue, or maybe having yours intermingle with his because you are just so fucking happy, you feel like you are going to float away.

“Hey,” he mumbles against your lips, caressing your cheekbones when you make a move to get you and him to lie horizontal, “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his forearm. “I know, I just,” you drop your head in the crook of his neck, and he pets you, letting his fingers tangle in your hair. “I just missed you a lot, that’s all.”

His responding smile is achingly soft, and a little shy, and he slowly presses you into the bed, kissing you sweet once more.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs again, and your heart is bursting at the seams at this point.

“Good,” you sigh happily, trailing a hand down his back, feeling the movement of his muscles as they tense and flex beneath his shirt. You hold his face between two palms and look him dead in the eye when you say, “I’m not going anywhere either.”

Minho grins, soft, and when he leans back down to kiss you, you can feel the love bursting from every cell in your body, flooding you with warmth and sunshine from the inside out, making your toes curl.

You are in love with him, and he with you, and nothing on this earth could ever top that.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

TRAPPED IN BY YOU. (YOU'RE THE DRUG)

main character(s): lee know x genderneutral!reader

genre: smut (with some angst if you squint)

warning(s): cheating, implied penetration, non-explicit rough/hate sex, mentions of heavy degradation/bruising, somewhat heavy descriptions of drugs, reader is compared to being a drug, implied that lee know is abusing reader during sex but thats just wordplay in this, possible inaccurate descriptions of what a drug feels like

wc: 0.8k

special note: yes, i know the title is weird, but i like funky titles like that. i thought of this prompt when i saw a tiktok and i couldnt help of a nasty ass fic that included no other than lee know. i tried to make this as gender-neutral as possible so im very sorry if you see any female references!

lee minho, famously known as lee know, would absolutely be shunned if anyone found out what he was currently doing. it's absolutely nerve wrecking. his entire career and family would be destroyed if anyone found out.

but thats kind of why he likes it, too. the thrill. the excitement. the adrenaline. what was once a "one time thing" turned into a casual "meetup" every other weekend. it feels so bad, and feels so good.

almost like a drug, it has him trapped around it's finger.

hurriedly walking into the too-familiar building to escape from the pouring rain, he comes up to the too-familiar front desk and sliding his fake I.D to the clerk before getting the keycard to his assigned room.

it's a painful ride up the elevator. it's too slow. too nerve-racking. he wants to be shielded away from all of these security cameras and curious eyes. although he is wearing a face mask and baseball cap, his body drowning in an expensive oversized black coat, he still worries about being identified.

when the elevator dings, he rushes to the room. when he walks in, he is greeted by the too-familiar red lights. the too-familiar cage surrounding the mattress that could fit a party of six. and most importantly, the too-familiar sight of you in that cage, submissively waiting for him to join you.

this is why he actually likes it. because of you.

you are the drug that has him trapped around your finger. when he sees you in the black and red lingerie, pearls, diamonds, the black harness the gifted you on special occasions..

you have him going numb.

you are such a drug. it's just the best way he can describe you. it feels so bad to do, yet feels so good. he practically forgets that he has a pregnant wife at home, that has a fragile popstar career. when he is entangled with you in that too-familiar love cage of yours, it feels so good he wants to do more.

for once, he isn't afraid to do more. to explore himself more. he doesn't hesitate to do "taboo" deeds in the best way possible that has his brain evaporating from his skull.

he desperately breathes in your toxicity like a drug, inhaling and exhaling it all in for what could be for other people long headache prying periods of time.

when he finally exhales, he feels the 3rd eye you practically gave him. he can hear, feel, taste, see, smell everything. he can feel the way the temperature in the room spikes up almost in a suffocating manner, resulting in him tearing his (and your) clothes off.

when he takes you in his mouth, he sucks on and takes in whatever he can. knowing that it's just the beginning of him tipping over the edge, he cannot wait for the unique sensations you give him.

he laps and bites at whatever piece of you he can reach. it's so addicting, its painful. whenever a surge of pleasure runs through his veins, he cannot help the tears that form along his waterline. it's painful, but he can't stop. you're just that addictive.

like a true drug addict, he "abuses" this drug as much as possible. he isn't afraid to go over the edge, as, unlike his wife, you let him that way. you let him take out all of his anger and frustrations out on you, let him yell out profanities and venom at you. let him control over you and your body, abusing it in the way he loves, marking it red and purple.

and when you, like a drug, have completely taken over him, he cannot help but feel the absolute euphoria. he sees the stars, the true meaning of his life, the true meaning of life. when you are running through the veins of his body, riding him like some waves, he has to hold onto the cold bars surrounding the two of you to ground himself.

when you are intertwined with him in the deepest part, practically connected to each other's bodies, he cannot latch away from you. he doesn't want to latch away from you. the sheen of sweat acting as some cheap glue.

it's like this does he think he is fullfilled. it's like this does he wish that he could be intoxicated by you forever. forever being numb from all of the constant pains he receives from his "fans", the media, hell, even his wife. he wishes he could stay with you, forever.

but of course, a drug is temporary until you take it again.

in the end, when the sensations become too much and is shaking, trembling, overdosing on you, does he realize how addicted he is. addicted to you. and goddamn, does he realize he is fucked.

he got trapped in by you. you trapped him.

wedding season ♡ the unplanned activity

The day at the pool is a planned activity, but Minho and you find something better to do.

⇢ pairing: minho x fem!reader ⇢ word count: 7.1k ⇢ genre: smut, angst, non-idol!au, fake dating!au, exes to lovers!au, unrequited love, love triangle, exboyfriend!minho, ex!best friend chan ⇢ warnings: 18+, minors dni! mentions of a group of people being immature pricks, fear of water; drinking, drunk sex, smut [groping, handjob, fingering, tit sucking, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), protected sex, use of the word slut (the mc uses it for both of them), one tit smack, cum on body] ⇢ masterlist ♡ series masterpost ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3 ⇢ reblogs and feedback are always motivating and appreciated! ♡

if you want to support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here and let me know what you think about it here. thank you! ♡

When you thought about what the trip will be like, never once did it occur to you that you’d find yourself in the pool with Minho, surrounded by people, and see him not care about anyone or anything else. You didn’t think he’d go swimming, period, let alone look this relaxed doing it.

But then again, you two have been flirting for a while now, joking around and pretending other people exist, so him forgetting about his fear doesn’t surprise you at all. 

Out of the blue, some of Chris’s friends start swimming around you, spraying each other with water and trying to hold each other’s heads underwater. It’s a stupid, childish thing, and you can’t believe grown men are acting this way and getting everyone else around them wet.

Chris soon joins them, and it seems like they’re drunk because they’re spraying water everywhere and getting other people involved, laughing as they do. It could be fun, maybe, but it’s not fun when you worry about Minho and his fear of water.

Even poor Sunyoung gets her head underwater, but she emerges laughing and spraying her soon-to-be husband. “Screw you, guys!” she shouts, and you almost laugh at them being idiots, but then you remember this is Minho’s worst fear.

Judging by the small group’s moving pattern, they’ll soon reach your part of the pool and probably won’t even ask before deciding to have “fun” with the two of you.

“Minho, it’s time to get wet!” Chris jokingly shouts, still too far away to notice how Minho frantically grabs your hand underwater and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding onto you tight. 

“Don’t think so!” you shout back and stand right in front of Minho, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. The very next second, you’re in his arms and he’s helping hold you up, the water doing most of the work.

Your ex is surprised by you climbing on top of him but can’t even express it out of fear—you can read it all on his face. It’s been years, but you still know how Minho feels just by looking at him. The fact that he’s doing this for you even though he’s scared just reminds you of the things Jisung told you, and you instantly feel like the worst person out there. This guy shouldn’t be out here in fear just to indulge your stupid little whim.

“It's fine,” you whisper at Minho, which makes him look at your lips and close his eyes for a second as if he's trying to agree with you without saying a word. “I promise.”

Your ex hums and opens his eyes, sighing loudly. His arms hold onto you tight, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds you up.

Chris shouts something at you in return, but you’re too busy looking into Minho’s eyes to even register it, and you don’t care about their childish game enough to turn around and face the groom. “Maybe later,” you say, raising your voice just a little bit. “We’re busy now.”

Minho doesn’t say a thing for a while, focused solely on your eyes, even though his gaze does fly over your shoulder here and there to check where the group is and whether anyone's coming over to try to pull you two below the surface.

“What are you doing?” Minho asks as soon as the three men move back to their side of the pool. “You’re supposed to be convincing the guy you’re miserable with me, not the opposite.”

You chuckle, throwing your head back, your limbs still wrapped around his body tightly. It’s a relief that he’s not angry or scared—after everything, he’s here worrying about your plan. “I kind of enjoy being carried around. Plus, this is a good workout for you.”

“You do know you’re a lot lighter in the water, right?” Minho reminds you and grimaces at you, but you laugh that off, too.

“I know. I’m saving you from people and letting you enjoy your pool time,” you whisper, leaning in. You feel your lips brush against his ear in the process, and your core clenches at the touch for some reason, even though the moment isn’t intimate. “You don’t have to carry me, though, that part is a joke.”

“No, it’s fine,” Minho tells you, grabbing your thighs to lift you a bit before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his frame. You’re now so close your noses are practically touching, and you haven’t been in a position like this since the last time you two kissed. “Fewer people will bother us if they think we’re a couple doing coupley things.”

“I’m sorry about this,” you tell him, ignoring the last part. You don’t want to think about all the things that come up in your mind when he says that. “I didn’t think they’re such kids.”

“Pretty, weren’t they always?” Minho squints his eyes and glares at you, knowing he has a point. “You’re always surprised when your man acts childish like he hasn’t been that way since you met him.”

“You… Actually have a point,” you admit with a shrug. “You’re right.”

“God, I love hearing you say that,” Minho says with a loud groan, similar to the ones he lets out when he’s coming—and if anyone knows what that sounds like, it’s you. Why you’re thinking about that, you have no idea.

“Let’s have another drink,” you suggest, hoping that will take your mind off of things you shouldn’t be thinking about while you’re in his arms.

When Minho agrees, you two wave a waiter over and soon get the drinks that you gulp down almost instantly. It’s because you need courage if you’re going to make the trip worth his while. Jisung has made a good job of getting inside your head and making you question your relationship with his friend.

Throughout the whole thing, you stay in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, drink in hand. Minho and you talk and giggle, tease each other constantly, and you enjoy every second of it. Being around him is so easy when you’re not putting up a fight or overthinking things, and today just reminds you of that. He carries you around while you drink, and everyone leaves you two be, which is how you prefer it.

“You should drink more often,” Minho suggests with a grin, downing the shot he ordered with the latest round of cocktails. It has to be the last one because you will pass out if you have any more drinks other than the one already in your hand.

“Why, because I’m on you when I do?” You down your drink and place the glass on the edge of the pool, arms once again free to wrap around his shoulders.

Your ex stops moving and looks at you for a second or two, inspecting your face thoroughly. Then, he smiles. “No, because you laugh loudly and smile all the time, and you’re even prettier then, pretty.”

“Aw, are you getting soft on me?” You fake pout and pinch his cheeks, to which he scoffs and puts his shot glass down by the edge of the pool.

“Trust me, there’s nothing soft about me right now,” he says teasingly and tongues his cheek, and you know exactly what Minho means. “I’m not saying it because of that, though, but because you need to be more confident.”

“I’m way more confident now than I was back then,” you point out, happy with your progress. You’re never going to be on Minho’s level of confidence, you’re sure of that, but you feel better about yourself than you did back in college, and that's something.

“The only reason you weren’t confident back then was that asshole,” Minho mumbles and glares at Chris, who is jumping in at the other side of the pool, far away from you in Minho’s arms.

“What do you mean?” You laugh at the very idea of Chris having anything to do with your low self-esteem back then. The truth is, you’d been single for a long time and you thought your value as a person was low because you couldn’t find a great person to date. Of course, when you grew a bit older—and wiser, you like to think—you realized that being single had nothing to do with someone not being good enough. Chris had nothing to do with your distorted sense of self.

“I mean… He made you think you weren’t good enough,” Minho says, sounding fully convinced in the truthfulness of his statement. “And you were even more than that.”

You have to disagree with him. “He didn’t say anything like that…”

Minho shakes his head and pulls you in closer, so close your chests are now touching. “Really? Chris didn’t constantly remind you that I fucked around before we got together, that I had a lot of experience you didn’t? He didn’t warn you about me, telling you to be careful because so many,” he rolls his eyes while he mutters, “women wanted me and I had never been in a relationship before, and I could easily fuck one of them when you weren't around?”

When he says these things, you get taken back to the past and realize Minho is right—Chris did say them, but he was just trying to warn you. He didn’t want you to get hurt, and that was your biggest fear. After all, you knew Minho was way out of your league. You looked okay, weren’t stupid, could be fun, but he was gorgeous, smart, funny, and had such charisma that people just flocked to him, even back then.

Before you two got together, Minho had never been in a real relationship, never wanted to settle down with someone, so it surprised you that he wanted you two to try it. You knew he fucked more girls than you could count and they were all probably more experienced than you, better than you. These things weighed over you all the time, but you couldn’t really blame Chris, even if he pointed them out often. “It’s my fault for believing these things.”

“If Jisung was dating a girl he thought was too good for him, I’d tell him no one was too good for him because he’s a great fucking guy,” Minho tells you with a smile, and you know he means it. “I wouldn’t tell him she slept around before him and that she’ll probably do that again because so many hot guys want her. I wouldn't try to make him doubt himself so he could break things off with her. You wouldn't say that to a friend either. You should have listened to me instead.”

You should have. 

Being with Minho—physically—was always great for your self-esteem. Despite all the teasing and playfulness, you always got more compliments than you needed, and Minho made sure you knew he found you pretty and attractive and funny and interesting. That’s why he called you pretty in the first place—the first time he called you that, you were so moved you kissed him and said it was the sweetest thing anyone had told you. After that, it became like a new name to you, at least in his book.

“You’re right about that,” you agree with him, even if you think Chris didn’t have bad intentions. “But I’m over most of those problems now, anyway.”

“I can see,” he looks down at the way you’re wrapped around him, “and you should be. If you weren’t pretending you were with me, trust me, all these guys would try something. You’re too good for them, though.”

You scoff at that, even if you think everything he is saying is sweet and caused by the alcohol rushing through his system, plus the adrenaline of being in the water. “Really? Is it because I’m such a moral person?”

It’s Minho’s turn to laugh heartily. “You’re not in it to hurt other people, and that’s what’s important.”

Are you? You think about it for a second, but the last thing you want is to see Sunyoung or Chris hurt. You wanted to hate her, but it’s hard when she’s such a sweet, nice person. You’ve met her last night, even danced with her, and she gushed all about her love for Chris. You couldn’t hate her if you tried, that much was clear. Besides, your plan was fucked from the beginning.

“I guess I’m softer than I thought,” you admit, not wanting to talk about Chris when you’re so confused about Minho to even think about the other dude. So, you change the topic back to something lighter and say, “Unlike you.”

“I thought you couldn't feel it,” Minho says and throws you towards the surface, enough for your crotch to move away from his erection and get pressed into his stomach instead. “My bad.”

“You thought I wouldn’t feel a dick that hard between my legs?” You look at him questioningly before smirking. “How drunk are you, Minho?”

“Not as drunk as the girl that’s secretly been enjoying having my dick against her pussy for the last ten minutes,” he quips and downs the rest of his cocktail, even if he’s just had a shot. You're always surprised by how he can say the crudest things with the straightest face in public. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“I’m in your arms, it’s right there, things happen…” You shrug and lean backward, letting your back rest on the water while Minho holds you by the waist. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Don’t do this to me if you don’t want to get fucked,” he hisses out a warning and chuckles. 

That’s when you realize the position is extremely sexual for two people who have had sex a million times before—your legs around him, your crotch against his, his hands on your waist, holding you pressed into him while your upper body floats. You hate sex in water, but if all these people weren’t around, you’re sure Minho would make even that feel good.

“Maybe I do,” you say with a chuckle and open your eyes again to look up at Minho. It’s up to him now. “So what?”

With one quick move of his hands, Minho gets you to sit up and straighten your back, his arms once again around you, lips next to yours. “What are you doing, pretty?”

“Offering you sex, if you’re interested,” you respond and lean in to press your lips against his. You're at the pool and most of the wedding guests are there too, but you can't get yourself to care. For all they know—including Chris—you two are a couple. You kiss and fuck and love each other, so this shouldn’t be surprising.

Minho kisses you back, not letting himself get carried away before he pulls away and inspects your face from up close. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been hard for a long time and it’s making me want to fuck you right here,” you admit, leaning in and biting on his lower lip. You'll never be immune to Minho, no matter how hard you try. Besides, why should you try? You want him, he's clearly horny—what's stopping you? “We’re both single, and you fuck so well, so…”

Instead of saying something to your offer, your ex kisses you, this time using his tongue. The more it swirls inside of your mouth, the wetter you get, and the more you enjoy having him between your legs, long and hard, reminding you of what’s to come if Minho is willing. You don't care about your surroundings and who can see you—all you're focused on is reciprocating the kiss and enjoying every second of it.

Minho grunts into your mouth and pushes his hips into yours, and you feel like you could come any second even if he hasn’t even touched you yet. Fucking Minho and his perfect tongue and taste and smell and the way he touches you and how attractive his moans are and how well you know he fuc—

“Get a room!” one of the guys screams jokingly and sprays you two with water, but neither one of you moves.

Minho breaks the kiss and pulls away just enough for your lips to part, but you feel his breath on your face and see him looking at you with lust written all over his face. The guy is so pretty you can’t stop staring, and he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Shall we?” you feel confident enough to suggest, even though he could turn you down easily.

“What?” Minho asks, even though you’re sure he knows what you mean. He's looking at you like he knows, and his fingers are once again holding your thighs from below, even if they are practically resting on your ass.

Still, you indulge him and say it out loud. “Get a room.”

“Is that my reward?” your ex suggests, the grin wiped off his face for some reason, jaw clenching.

You shake your head at the suggestion. “No. I just want us to fuck. No rewards, no games.”

“In that case, your room or mine?”

Ten minutes later, still wet from the pool, you're in Minho's room, pushed against the door while he kisses you, his hand roughly groping your tit before moving down to do the same with your ass. You're wearing a bikini, but his hands manage to get under it with ease and touch whatever part he wants.

“Fuck, you're hard,” you mumble with both hands wrapped around his cock, which is leaking precum already. You swipe your thumb over the tip, making Minho hiss and bite into your shoulder, and it turns you on that he's so quick to show how much he likes your touch.

“See what you do to me?” Minho grunts into your skin, and the words make you get wetter instantly. “See how fucking hard you get me?”

You fucking love vocal men, and he's the one to blame for that. You enjoy hearing how horny you get someone and you bask in the sounds you get them to make all thanks to Minho and his filthy mouth which is currently kissing its way down your body. 

He pushes your swimsuit to the side to get your tit out. Once Minho does that, his tongue starts swirling around it, and all you can do is pump your hands faster and moan for him. “Suck harder,” you tell him, squeezing the tip of his swollen cock. “Want your mouth on me.”

Minho chuckles and does as asked, sucking your nipple into his mouth, biting the flesh around it. When he lets go of it with a pop, you think you'll come right then and there because of the sight of his wet swollen lips right next to your nipple. “Pretty, let's go get a condom,” he suggests, and you nod, even if you want to keep touching him for hours.

You follow him to the bed, sad that you two have to part while he looks for a condom in his drawer. But, while Minho is standing next to the bed and shuffling through the drawer, you drop down to your knees and pull his swim trunks down his thighs, taking his cock into your mouth, which stops him from moving.

He grunts and kicks his head back, hands grabbing your head and pushing it towards him, making you take all of him. When you do, you swallow on purpose, and he moans. “You really want me to blow before I get to fuck you,” he mutters happily and continues searching for the condom. “Not gonna happen because I want to be in you so bad.”

You keep sucking but are pulled up on your feet and thrown on the bed a second later. When you get on all fours, Minho pulls your swimming suit down your ass, exposing your soaking cunt to him. “So fucking horny today,” he mumbles, sticking a finger inside of you, both of you hissing when it just slides in. It gets drenched on the first try, and you can almost hear it move. “Aw, did Chris turn you on that much?”

“Stop talking about him,” you tell the man who now has two fingers up your pussy and is scissoring you open with them. “He didn't have his dick between my legs for half of the day, did he?”

Minho chuckles and puts the condom on. While he does that, he leans in and starts licking you up and down, careful to suck and slurp and make as much noise as possible to get you to moan and melt. “Minho, please,” is all you need to say to get him to pull away and put his dick in you.

You moan when you feel the stretch, the familiar burn of the dick you know every inch of, the slight stinging and overwhelming feeling of relief when something hard finally touches your walls. “Minho!”

“Finally,” he grunts to himself and starts moving, hips smacking into yours from the get-go. “So good—”

Minho keeps fucking you roughly, both of you unable to speak. There's not much you can tell him when he's giving you exactly what you want—good sex, the type that leaves you breathless. Each thrust fills you up with pleasure, makes your toes curl, makes you moan and grunt. Even though he seems to be more put together than you, Minho is grunting just as much. “So tight,” he tells you in between thrusts. “Tight little cunt… Wet just for me.”

“Yes, Minho… Fuck… Just for you.”

You've missed fucking him this way, missed having his hands on you like this, grabbing any body part they can reach while his hips push into yours from behind roughly. Minho still knows just how much you can take without it getting painful.

You're tipsy and horny, which means you are more than fine with rough sex, and he's delivering—every move is sharp and quick, cock buried inside of you deeply, thighs smacking into yours.

Being emotional all day made you drink, and that made you want to be close to Minho, which is why you're now fully enjoying the experience. “Harder, Minho, please!”

“Harder?” He giggles, sounding out of breath. “You really need a good fuck, huh?”

“Just had one recently,” you manage to mumble, still not over the sex you two had before coming here, the time that made you think of him more.

Minho laughs happily and smacks your ass. “Sure you can take it harder?” he checks again, hands now on your waist.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think of anything else.” A simple plea, one that he's heard from you many times before and always managed to deliver. “I don't want to think… Just want you.”

It's true. Right now, you don't care about Chris or the wedding or Jisung or anyone else—all you want is to get these frustrations out through sex with Minho. You wish he was on top of you so you could look at him, kiss him, so he could see what he's doing to you.

“Then get comfortable and hold on tight,” your ex instructs you gently and waits for you to grip the sheets and spread your legs to find a stable position, one that won't have you lurching forward with every thrust.

When you do, his cock makes you see stars. It's kind of funny how Minho's cock isn't anything special, technically speaking. There are bigger, longer, thicker dicks out there, yet his always manages to rub your g-spot, always makes your eyes water because it feels so deep, always pries your walls open, no matter how much they clench around it.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he hums to himself, probably enjoying the view on top of the feeling of being in you. 

He pushes into you hard with a loud smack which almost throws you forward and onto the bed. But, Minho's strong hands are holding you just below the waist, fingers digging into the skin, so he pulls you back onto his cock instantly. It's just back and forth, his dick rubbing your walls quickly, beautifully.

“Mhm, baby.” A smack of his hips makes you moan. “Such a good dick.” Smack. Your toes curl, pussy dripping for him. “Want to have it all the time.” Smack, smack, smack.

“Yeah? Want to let me fuck whenever?” Minho's voice is so low you just know he's seconds away from grunting and coming if he lets himself.

You hum again, trying to clench around him, but it's hard to do that when he's pistoning into you. Smack, smack, smack, the sound so delicious you want your ex to keep going forever.

“Yeah, just you—” Smack, smack. “It's your pussy anyway.” 

Smack, smack, smack until you can't say a thing anymore because you're too busy crying out from pleasure, all because you've told him something he loves hearing. Minho has never been jealous or possessive—you've found out to what extent just recently—but when you two slept together or fooled around, he loved hearing you say that you were his, that your body was his, that he could have it whenever he felt like it. If the timing was right, hearing you were his could make him blow unexpectedly.

You know these little things about him just like he does about you. So, you're not surprised in the slightest that he knows exactly how to move to make you scream. You're not surprised by your constant moaning, by the fact your mouth is open and you're drooling over his bed, by the fact you're dripping wet. The whole hotel can probably hear you getting fucked stupid, but you don't care about any of that.

“Take dick so well,” you hear him mutter, voice laced with pleasure, “my sweet little pussy… Mine,” smack, “mine,” smack, “mine! Right?”

“Yes! Yours, baby—”

“Only I get to make a mess out of it, hm?”

Everything he says goes straight to your head, makes you moan louder, makes you relax your muscles and enjoy the throbbing cock inside of you. You feel wet and swollen but so satisfied at the same time, even if you haven't come yet—it's fast approaching, your abs clenching and releasing.

“Yes, Minho, only you,” you agree, nodding even though your head is pressed into the mattress and he can't even see it. “Please, don't stop, baby— Please, just—fuck!—keep going!”

Minho knows you well so he recognizes all the signs of you getting fucked out of your mind, of you getting lost in pleasure, on the brink of coming.

“You're gonna come like this, pretty?” Minho sounds surprised because you find it easier to come with clitoral stimulation. Today, it doesn't seem necessary.

“Yes, yes, just move—”

He hums happily, clearly happy about the fact you’re enjoying this more than he expected you to. Minho recovers quickly and keeps muttering at you, hissing every now and then,“Let me feel you come, come on. Show me how much you wanted this dick…”

It's stupid that those are the words that get you going, but that's what happens. You come around Minho’s cock, letting your shoulders collapse on the mattress, fingers gnawing at the sheets while he keeps pistoning into you. 

“Yeah, baby, just like that, squeeze it hard,” he tells you through hard thrusts and gritted teeth. “Never want to pull out.”

While you are trying to calm down, Minho keeps fucking you, but his hand reaches for you and pets your head as he leans over so he can look at you. “Good fucking girl… So good. Came so hard for me, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement, practically purring with pleasure—his cock is so satisfying, but his touch is making you want to melt. You're not sure how he manages to fuck so hard and be so gentle at the same time, but that's just a Minho thing, one that other men in your life haven't been able to figure out. “Just for you. You make me come so hard every time, Minho…”

You suddenly realize that you want to look at him. Sex is great either way—at least with Minho—but looking at him makes it even better. So, you tell him to stop which makes him freeze in place and stay buried inside of you. You shimmy your hips until his cock falls out of you and then you turn around to face him, still on your knees. “Lie down, handsome.”

“What for?” Minho asks, grinning at you as you lean in and wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a long, wet, horny kiss.

“Let me fuck you,” you say sweetly, pulling him onto the bed.

Minho lets you push him around, make him lie on the bed, and straddle him—all with a smirk on his face. The smirk turns into a pleasure-filled frown when you sit down on his cock and clamp around it hard, fingers dragging across his chest, leaving red marks in their wake. “Want to see all the pretty faces this pussy makes you pull,” you tell him teasingly, knowing it will fuck with him. “So fucking pretty.”

Minho groans loudly and spreads his legs, allowing you to sit onto his cock comfortably and start moving forward and back, gently swaying your hips. “I love it when you act like that…”

“Like what?” you ask even though you know what he means. You reach back and grab his balls, squeezing and rolling them around your palm, which makes Minho’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Like you know how fucking good you are at this, pretty,” he suggests, licking his lips, and his words make you ride him harder, make you want to rub all over him until he comes hard for you. “Because you really are.”

“Maybe I do,” you tease, biting your lip and starting to move even faster, acting like you're in a porn video made just for the guy lying under you. You know what he likes and have no problem giving it to him.

Minho groans and asks, “Do you say things like that to other men?” His hands move to your tits and squeeze them, but his eyes stay focused on your face.

You grimace at the idea of being this open with anyone else and start moving your hips in circles instead, getting to feel him rub you in a new way.

“Didn't think so,” your ex grins, realizing he still knows you well.

“I can't be this open with anyone… That's why I love fucking you, Minho.” By this point, you're moving faster, squeezing him with every circle of your hips. 

This keeps him grunting, and he closes his eyes, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. “Why is that?”

“You've fucked me more times than I can count… You've licked and sucked every inch of me.” You mean every word of it. You two have done it all and there’s just no shame involved, no embarrassment about asking for something you want—things just happen, and nothing seems out of place.

Minho's eyes snap open and he smirks at you. “And I'd do it again. Want you to sit on my face for hours.”

You giggle, starting to move up and down while your hand moves to his lips. A finger pushes inside his mouth, and Minho lets you run it across his tongue. “See? You're a slut for me, so I don't mind being one for you. In fact, I love that I can act as slutty as I want just for you. I can tell you all the nasty things you need to hear to blow your load, baby.”

His hips jolt upwards into you, making you hiss. You pull your finger out of his mouth and bring it down to your nipple, wetting it, enjoying the way his eyes follow your every move.

“Oh my God, keep going,” Minho urges, hands grabbing your ass, eyes looking up at you. “You just get hotter and hotter. When we first met, you couldn't even say cunt without blushing.”

You laugh at that, even though you'd still have a hard time saying it in front of some guy you barely know. Minho is a whole different story—he taught you everything, anyway. “That's true… But now I can tell you I want your tongue up my cunt before you fuck it hard and shoot your load into it.” Minho moans so loud and long you think he's filling the condom up. “You like me better that way, don't you?”

Minho smacks your tit before he pinches your nipple somewhat softly. “I like you either way, pretty. Liked you when you needed the lights turned off to fuck me, like you now that you can ride me completely naked in broad daylight and act like a dirty slut.”

You think you could come just from the things he's saying and the way he's looking at you, but you're focused on his pleasure alone, which is why you're moving fast, careful to sit on his cock fully. “That's because in either case, I end up fucking you.”

Minho nods happily, his face getting sweaty and red, and you think he’s never looked hotter than he does now. “More than that, but that will do,” he says, not caring to explain further. “Just a bit more, pretty… I’m close.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle and start moving faster, happy to hear Minho is enjoying it as much as you are. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

You know the pet name does things to him. Even if you didn’t, it would be obvious from the way his hands squeeze your tits or how his eyes squint as he smirks. “Mhm… Wish I could do it in you.”

“I know you do,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him, sticking your tongue out to tease his lips. It gets Minho to chase you, which makes you giggle again, hips still smacking onto his. “You wish you could finish inside me every time.”

His compliments and looks are getting to your head, making you feel overly confident, making you feel like you're both crazy about each other, which is why you’re saying all these things. You don’t know if Minho wishes he could come inside of you today, let alone every time, but you’re not thinking straight.

However, your ex seems to be on the same page because he agrees with you. “That's because I know you get a little stupid when someone makes you come hard. You'd let me do whatever I wanted after a good fuck,” he says, making a good point. You were always so whipped for the guy, willing to try whatever he wanted after he’d make you come time and time again. “You’d definitely let me fill you up.”

“So confident,” you chuckle and lean in again, whispering, “I mean, you have every reason to be, but still… Confident.”

Minho scoffs and grabs your waist, pulls you onto his torso. Then, he flips over with you on top of him, getting you on your back with his dick still in you. The sudden change makes you even hornier, especially since he is taking control and getting on top and putting an end to your teasing, which means he is almost ready to come. 

“Do I need to teach you a lesson again?” Minho grunts against your lips but doesn’t give you the kiss you lean in for. “Is that what you want?”

Your pussy clenches at the idea of Minho's lessons—they always ended with both of you satisfied in every way possible. “No. Just want to see you come for me… Want to make you feel good, baby… Show you how much I like you fucking me.”

Your admission makes Minho go hard on you, hips moving back and slamming into you, cock entering you fully, pussy squelching with every thrust. “Yeah? Whose is it?”

You wrap your arms and legs around your ex and pull him into your frame, his hips still crashing into yours. “It’s your pussy, Minho, just yours—”

“Just mine, hm?” He sounds elated when he whispers the words, eyes zeroing in on your expression as you grimace and grunt. He’s fucking you so hard you can’t even tease anymore, even though you want to. Minho always enjoys teasing, but you’re too fucking horny for it.

“Only you get to fuck it like this.” It's not a lie—you never have sex like this, never have this much fun, never want to let a man do whatever he wants to you—unless you're with him.

“Shit, pretty, you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles before burying his head in the crook of your neck, and you realize he’s done for. “I want to fill up your cunt just once… Show you it's really mine.”

The idea sounds so good you want to let him do it. If there's a guy you trust completely, it's Minho. But, not today. “Maybe I'll let you sometime… After you fuck me stupid,” you suggest, to which he nods against your skin and keeps grunting lowly, cock still entering you at a steady pace. “You're right, you're so good I’d let you do whatever, baby, you have no idea…”

At this point, his thrusts are shallow, and you know he's about to come. Instead of filling the condom up, Minho pulls out while panting a hasty, “Can I do it all over you?” The condom gets thrown to the side.

You nod and spread your legs wide while grabbing your tits for him, sticking your tongue out. It's definitely one of your sluttiest moments, but it's also one of the hottest ones. Having a guy as handsome as Minho kneel over you with his thick dick in hand, jerking himself off for you, is a whole experience in itself. “Pretty, fuck!” he moans, eyes rolling back, lip caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I’ll—ahhh!”

Suddenly, cum sprays all over you, from pubic bone to neck, and you keep talking for him, knowing that’s what Minho needs. “Yeah, baby, give it to me… Want your cum all over me. Show me whose is it.”

You're bucking your hips into nothing, moaning while you watch him jerk off onto you, and you kind of don’t want it to end. Eventually, it does, when there’s nothing he can squeeze out of his dick, when all the cum has landed on your body, painting it white. When he's done, Minho collapses next to you, head sweaty, hair stuck to his face, breathing heavily.

You lie there for a while, not feeling strong enough to get up and clean yourself up—your entire body is still sore and turned on, buzzing with pleasure, your mind processing what has just happened. Minho seems to be on the same wavelength, except his hand is on you and he's rubbing cum all over your tits and stomach, playing with it absentmindedly. It all feels so warm and welcoming, familiar, and you wonder why.

So, you ask, “Minho, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot, pretty,” he says, sounding half asleep, as always after an orgasm. His eyes are closed, but he’s still touching you softly.

“Why did you decide to date me back then? You never— You didn't date that much before me.” You’re not sure why this is important to you, but you want to know. All the talk about your past made you wonder about that too, about how you never quite understood why he chose you, about how he was always a bit too good for you.

“Uhm…” Your ex hums while he thinks about your question, pointer finger dragging his cum over your nipple, making it pebble again. “I did date before you, but never like that. I guess you made me feel things other people didn't.”

“Like what?” Your voice quivers for no reason—you’re not afraid or nervous or tired. Maybe it’s the old insecurities creeping back up now that you’re talking about you two, about the only real relationship you’ve had. He’s definitely the only man you’ve loved like that.

“Like… You cared about me. I fucked around a lot, but I never really had someone who cared the way you did, checked up on me, was gentle with me. So I started caring for you and there was no way back, I guess.” Minho makes it sound so easy, as always, and it sounds natural. You two just cared for each other, and that made him want to be with you.

“I did care about you a lot,” you admit, years too late.

“I know you did,” he says and gives your tit a light squeeze, which would make you chuckle if you weren’t lost in all the thoughts about your relationship. “I did too.”

You don’t say anything for a while, but a question has been bothering you ever since you reconnected with Minho, ever since he walked into that bar and made you think of all the good times. “Do you think it's normal to have these feelings years after it ended?”

“Are you talking about Chr—”

You cut him off quickly, not even wanting to think about the guy while you’re lying in your ex’s bed naked, covered in his cum, which he’s dragging around your tits with his fingers. Not a good time for thoughts about the groom. “Us. Me.”

Minho sighs and rolls over on his back, joining you in staring at the ceiling. You miss the warmth of his hand on your chest but don’t say a thing. “I… I don't know. Do other people go through it?”

“Do you?” That’s what you’re more interested in here—fuck other people and how they feel.

“Me? Of course I do. You— I… I do, with you.” 

You turn to the side to face Minho because you can’t not look at him after he’s admitted to that. He looks almost angelic with his hair all wet from sweat, his cheeks flushed with color, plush lips slightly open.

When you two look at each other, your ex smiles. “Pretty, you're drunk and sad that he's getting married, and we've just had some… fucking amazing sex. You'll feel a lot of things. Don't get carried away.”

It's a warning that says don't care about me, we're just exes who are fucking. And it’s true. One ex is here to win someone else over and the other has never gotten closure, which led you to his bed. That's all there is to it, and Minho has spelled it out for you.

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TXT Soobin Hard Thought Visualizer

You made a mistake watching your boyfriend's concert Livestream. Currently that decision left you with a wet spot on your panties and your thighs clamped tightly. You sat waiting patiently for Soobin to walk through the front door. Only to lunge for him once he finally stepped in. Without a word spoken you stripped him of his clothes and straddled facing away from him. Maybe watching your boyfriend's livestream wasn't a mistake after all. (Reverse cowboy riding)

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