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ihangelic · 6 months ago

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PAS DE PUNK ╱ h.taesan

you and taesan go together like classical music and rock: not at all. but similar to the way taesan keeps getting piercings, there’s something about the way he gets under your skin that you kind of like— and you’re too proud to admit why you keep coming back for more.

pair ; punk!taesan x ballerina!reader

genre ; smut (with plot), fluff?, rock band au, enemies to lovers

warnings ; fem!reader, taesan has piercings (including tongue), arguing (flirting), some jealousy, ‘make me shut up’ kiss, confessing of feelings, petnames (mostly princess), lots of mentions of taesan’s hands & rings, dom!taesan, bratty/sub!reader, thigh riding, praise, degr*dation, bre*st play, begging, a little sp*nking, no prep, piv

wc ; 8k

playlist ; smells like teen spirit by nirvana / sugar we’re goin down by fall out boy / a little death by the neighbourhood / punk rock princess by something corporate / she’s kinda hot by 5sos / good girl by thomas larosa / s*xtape by deftones / closer by nine inch nails / all i really want is you by the marías

✉️ 𓂃 ₊˚⊹ note ; happy new year!! idk if it’s unhinged to make a playlist for a smut fic but i couldn’t help myself ><. i avoided using lesser-known ballet terms for non-dancers to understand (aka me), but also tried to make it enjoyable for dancers to read. hopefully i was successful lol.

! . . . COPYRIGHT OF IHANGELIC

dancing along with the music of l’oiseau bleu is practically impossible when it sounds like a rock concert is taking place in the room just across from you.

lowering to stand flat footed in your pointe shoes, you raise your hands to your face, pinching your nose bridge in frustration as you try and resist the growing urge to pull your hair out.

the obnoxious sound of drums, a bass’s low rumble, and an electric guitar’s higher tune rings in your ears— drowning out any of your more rational thoughts until you’re left with only rage.

you try your best to block it out, to take a moment to breathe and try to get a controlled hold over your emotions— and you think it may work after you cover your ears with your own hands, the sound of the instruments still audible but sounding more distant. then the teeth gritting noise of a cymbal pierces through the barrier of your hands and it’s almost like it’s a sound effect for the way your train of thought shatters, letting out a sigh that sounds much more like an animalistic scream before stomping over to your phone and turning off the music.

power walking out of the dance studio and to the very unfortunately placed neighboring rental space, you don’t even have to turn the knob as you look through the glass door. the raging bitch face you wear is absolutely effortless as you mean-mug all three ‘problems’ in the room; ‘problems’ that drip in leather, distressed or patched fabric, spikes, and way too oversized jeans. you’re about to feel acquainted with the three men as this situation seems to occur more and more often.

foam panels are stuck to the walls; black cords are neatly coiled or in squiggly lines across the floor; and of course there’s guitars, a drum set, and microphones everywhere.

finally you catch the eyes of the long, blond haired drummer— and that gives you enough incentive to open the door and barge in like you own the place.

“could you be any louder?” you rhetorically ask, but it goes unheard as two of the men sing passionately into their microphones, eyes closed and hands working the strings of their guitars while the drummer keeps playing his drums— all while staring at you with a relaxed, barely inquisitive face.

“could you be any louder!” you shout, the end of the sentence awkwardly fading in volume when there's a screech from one of the guitars and everything goes quiet.

the two seeming vocalists turn their heads to look at you, all three men now staring while you stand, clearly bothered as your hands are on both sides of your hips and your chest heaves with deep breaths of frustration.

“well…” the dark haired, taller one begins— and your expression only sours more as you’re already familiar with how snarky and full of himself he can be. “you’re the one yelling.”

you let out an appalled scoff, unable to help the way your eyes roll as you’re angered even more by how that only seems to make the man smirk.

“if someone has to yell just for you to hear them that means you’re the loud one.”

“you sure about that, princess?” he asks, quirking a pierced brow. your impending explosive response must be visible as the shorter statured one interrupts for damage control.

“w— we’re sorry!” he starts, speaking on his friends behalves. the blond’s expression never changes as he stares at your fuming face, while the darker haired looks like he’s about to protest— but the other continues before he has the chance. “look..we got off on the wrong foot and…”

the way his hands float in front of him, bass hanging against his chest by the strap— it only adds to how lost he looks on what to do, and it makes you feel kind of bad. (for him at least.)

you’re about to start apologizing when he’s suddenly reaching his hand out towards you.

“i’m riwoo.” he introduces, then gestures over to the other two men. “this is taesan and leehan.”

“…y/n” you say somewhat sheepishly, a bit of your shame coming back at the politeness of the bassist you now know as riwoo.

previously you’d only knock aggressively at their door to ask them to shut up, a few times popping your head in when that didn’t work to snappily ask them to please try and keep it down at least a little. you’ve never actually had a full conversation with them before— or an argument...whatever this exchange of words could be classified as.

“unfortunately we can’t really be any quieter. we have to practice for a gig we got coming up—“

“isn’t your little dance school supposed to be closed now anyway?” taesan abruptly interrupts, yet again grinding your gears with the snarky way he says the words ‘dance school’.

“it’s closed for classes, but the rooms can be used for practice up until eleven pm.” you provide smartly, catching yourself before you scrunch your nose in disgust at him.

“we try to keep the noise at a minimum if we’re here at prime hours,” riwoo cuts in again, attempting to explain gently. “but past that…” he trails off, shoulders shrugging as he gives you a sympathetic look.

you process his words, how he really is seemingly trying to help you out here, before sighing softly as your hand raises to press into your increasingly aching temple.

“do you have to use your amps?” you ask, raising a hand to point at one.

“did you not hear him? we have a show to do, we need to practice as best as we can. so yes, we have to use our amps.” taesan firmly states, over enunciating like you can’t hear. his brows are slightly furrowed as his previous amusement is completely gone, a flame of annoyance now in his eyes.

you let your hand defeatedly fall and slap against your bare thigh, taesan’s eyes glancing down at your leg for the smallest of moments before looking back up to glare at you.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” you bite at him, sick of his selfish attitude as you turn your body fully in his direction, crossing your arms.

“wxnder.” he dryly states, making your head tilt in confusion and absolute impatience.

“huh?”

“wonder— but like, with an ‘x’. that’s our band name.” leehan provides, throwing you off as you’re momentarily sidetracked by how deep and smooth his voice is. (are all these men vocalists? also, with an ‘x’— how cheesy can they be?)

“you should come watch us perform.” he smiles widely, eyes creasing and everything. you’re yet again thrown off as he speaks to you with such casual friendliness as though you haven’t practically yelled at all of them and continue to seethe at his guitarist like you want to rip his throat out.

“uh, i…”

“i’m sure miss priss has other things she’d rather do, like dance to swan lake in a feather tutu or something.” taesan finishes your sentence for you, conjuring a string of curses to lace your tongue.

“shut the f—“

“bye, twinkle toes.” he waves you off dismissively, grabbing the neck of his guitar by his multiple ringed fingers as he directs his attention back to his instrument and mic.

“it was nice meeting you, y/n.” riwoo adds somewhat shyly, adjusting the strap of his instrument as well— though much more apologetically.

“see ya’, y/n!” leehan calls before picking up his drumsticks and twirling them in his hands, looking up to taesan for his cue. you watch him cock his chin, the sudden rhythmic pounding of leehan’s drums making you flinch before taesan and riwoo start playing their strings again.

riwoo’s voice starts out soft before slowly raising in volume and you’re shocked by his melodic vocals that contrast so satisfyingly well with the rock instrumentals.

still disgruntled but more off put than anything, you don’t know what more to do than shuffle out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you stare at the air in front of you.

well, guess it’s time to find some earbuds that are sound and pirouette proof.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you got it. you got the lead role.

all the extra (maybe slightly excessive) practicing, late nights and frustration (which would be a lot less if there wasn’t a band next door) paid off.

you’re playing as princess aurora for your dance studio’s performance of ‘the sleeping beauty’, which will be showing at a local theatre next month.

jaehyun, your good friend and fellow dancer who’s always making you smile and lightening sullen moments during classes— is your dance partner, playing as prince désiré.

the second the both of you found out you got lead roles, jaehyun was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, insisting that you go out tonight to celebrate.

which is why you find yourself by jaehyun’s side at ‘sundown lounge’, your favorite bar and hang out spot.

“you look good, by the way!” jaehyun attempts to speak over the loud karaoke, leaning a little closer to your ear as you weave through the crowd.

“thanks!” you turn your head to smile at him over your shoulder, hoping your iridescent eyeshadow twinkles under the lights how you wanted it to.

“you do too.” you compliment before someone’s elbow is jabbed into your stomach, squishing yourself against the wall as you and jaehyun try to make it to the bar to order some drinks. “why is it so busy tonight?”

“i don’t know, maybe it’s happy hour!” jaehyun suggests hopefully, but when you finally reach the counter his theory is proven wrong when you’re told everything’s its original price. regardless, you sip on a strawberry margarita while jaehyun holds a glass of something that looks like muddy water before deciding where to sit.

“wanna go there, near the stage?” he asks, pointing over to a table that’s very near the performance area. you’d rather not have to hear a drunk girl sloppily sing a britney spears song right in your ears but jaehyun finds it hilarious, often unable to resist curling in on himself while giggling uncontrollably— and that always makes you laugh. so you nod your head, jaehyun grabbing your hand to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd before leading you to the table.

there’s only two more songs played before the dj hops on the stage, speaking into the mic. “karaoke will be ending as it’s time for the band of tonight to take the stage. give us a few minutes while the performers are setting up!”

some people in the crowd hoot and holler excitedly as jaehyun turns his head to you. “i wonder what type of band will be playing tonight, last weeks was pretty good.”

“it’s punk rock!” a girl excitedly butts in from the table right next to yours, having accidentally overheard your conversation.

“a rock band?” you ask, somewhat groaned in annoyance as you now have a personal vendetta against the genre. but your tone goes completely unnoticed by the girl as her eyes continue to sparkle with enthusiasm.

“yeah! their music’s really good and they’re all super hot, my favorite one plays the electric guitar.”

“what’s their name?” jaehyun asks, curiosity evidently sparked.

“wxnder!” she answers, and your brows furrow with the familiarity of it. where have you heard that name before?

the girl’s head turns at a sound and her mouth drops open, a small uproar caused as some people in the crowd shriek and cheer. the unexpected noise has you flinching before looking towards the stage— and your jaw drops too, but not in a good way.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” you say to yourself in shock, watching as riwoo sits down his amp and plugs it into the wall.

“what?…what!” jaehyun whisper-yells, grabbing onto your arm to try and get your attention.

leehan appears next, sitting down behind the drum set that’s already on stage and wagging his head to adjust his hair, causing another small wave of squeals.

then a broad back covered by a black leather jacket abstracts your view, and he doesn’t even need to turn around for you to know who he is— but he does anyway. the way taesan almost immediately catches your gaze amongst the crowd is infuriating, smirking while glancing down at how close your table is to the stage before looking teasingly into your eyes again.

and it makes you pissed, unbelievably so— yet you feel your cheeks burn as you can’t help but think about how hot he looks, the stage lights glinting off his lip ring and drawing your eyes towards them.

have his lips always been so…plump?

taesan winks at you before looking down to tune his guitar, hands gripping the neck of it. veins pop out from the contours of his knuckles; long, thick fingers adorned with silver rings picking at the strings.

fuck…

“y/n?” jaehyun tries again, and you finally respond with the shake of your head, downing the remainder of your drink like it’s a shot.

“it’s nothing.” you insist.

after a few minutes of setting up, tuning, and making sure everything’s in order; taesan introduces the group (not that he exactly needs to, since it seems the bar is full of their fans), saying that their opening song will be ‘take my tears’, a song he wrote himself.

usually you and jaehyun talk throughout a band's live performance, as they’ll be playing all night— but you can’t seem to look away as you listen to the lyrics and how they perform.

it’s entrancing— much different than when you’re trying to ignore them through the studio walls. the song is somewhat emotional, beautiful; yet it also has such a fun and freeing feel. or maybe it’s just the way they sing it— how taesan sings it, his body grooving and head nodding to the beat of their sound. the lyrics aren’t what you’d expect from him— the guy you thought he was, and it leaves you wondering what more there is to him that you wouldn’t expect.

your heart skips a beat, and you’re not sure if it’s just the thrill of the rock music or if it’s because of him; the annoying, pompous punk who suddenly looks so sexy when he’s performing. (and never any other time. definitely not.)

you’ve just finished your second margarita and are a little buzzed by the time their set is finished, the night passing faster than you realized.

jaehyun is eating on a basket of fries, yapping away so fervently that he doesn’t even notice how you’ve gotten up from the table and are approaching taesan— who again locks eyes with you as he walks down the steps of the stage to meet you halfway.

“so, what did you think?” he asks, a little out of breath from the long performance, having had no breaks in between songs.

he stands closely so you can hear him— and it’s enough for you to smell his cologne; to see the way sweat clings to the skin of his neck; deep breaths coming out in puffs as his chest expands. something about it all has an effect on you— or maybe it’s something in the air, because taesan doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, admiring your legs in your denim mini skirt.

“you..you guys were amazing.” you compliment, sounding a little out of breath yourself.

taesan makes a ‘hm’ sound, faintly smiling at you while biting his lip— and you swear you see the glint of metal on his tongue.

your body heats up as you wonder if his tongue is pierced too, what kind of things he could do to you with it, what it would feel like against your skin— before you frantically try and dismiss the increasingly dirty thoughts, reminding yourself that the man you’re fantasizing about is right in front of you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come.” taesan says, speaking in a teasing tone that you swear seems flirty paired with the slight quirk of his brow.

“how’d you even know we’d be here? did you stalk us, princess?”

okay, surely that was flirting, right?

you’re about to playfully roll your eyes, paired with a smart little comment and deny that’d you’d ever be interested enough to ‘stalk’ them— until the girl that spoke to you about wxnder earlier suddenly appears, putting herself between you and taesan.

“you were absolutely amazing, taesan.” the girl croons, confidently placing her hand on his forearm as she leans all up in his personal space.

and you expect him to shrug her off, either politely or not-so politely establish some distance between them. but again, he surprises you— in a way you absolutely hate.

he smirks at her, in just the same way he did to you just moments ago— and leans even closer to her face, unneededly close.

“aren’t you sweet. thank you so much.”

“no problem.” the girl smiles cattily, clearly enjoying the attention.

something in your heart burns, and that familiar feeling of uncontrollable annoyance comes back even worse than before.

“do you think i could get your autograph?”

“sure, princess.” taesan answers lowly— and that does it.

without even feeling the urge to look back and see that girl all over him, you’re gone, picking up a drunk jaehyun by his arm.

“wh— where are we going?” jaehyun drunkenly slurs, eyes glossed over as they look at you.

“to get an uber home.” you answer firmly, eyes hard as you once again weave through the crowd.

you feel eyes on your back, but you ignore it until you get to the door, turning your head as jaehyun leans half of his body weight against you. even amongst all the faces, you and taesan’s eyes meet easily, his arm now slung around the girl’s waist as she whispers something in his ear.

his lips are in that same smirk— like he’s taunting you, and you scoff, dragging jaehyun and yourself out of the bar.

you can’t believe you were actually feeling into him— but you surely don’t have to worry about that now.

he’s just confirmed that he is in fact what you thought he was: an absolute ass and a cocky player who sings on stage to get girls in his bed.

well, fuck him. he can get his dick wet with anyone he wants but it sure as hell won’t be you.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the very next day you’re back at the dance studio, rehearsing for the upcoming performance.

jaehyun whines the whole day, saying that it’s somehow your fault that he got drunk off his ass— but despite that, he does incredibly well during class. you do also, but unbeknownst to you, your friend wonders why you seem so tense— like something has been bothering you all day.

“shouldn’t you go home and rest, y/n?” jaehyun asks you at the end of class hours. everyone else is packing up their totes and leaving, yet you’re stood at the ballet barre doing leg exercises.

“i’ll be fine. practice makes perfect.” you insist, keeping your eyes on your form in the mirrored wall.

“well..just don’t overwork yourself, okay?” jaehyun sweetly tells you, and you flash him a thankful smile through the mirror.

“don’t worry, yunie, i wont. see you tomorrow.”

if it weren’t for the absolute beast you’re known to be in the studio, jaehyun would force you out of your pointe shoes and drag you home himself— but you don’t seem even a little bit tired, and it appears as though you have some steam to blow off.

so jaehyun and you exchange goodbyes before he leaves you in the empty classroom. (yes, completely empty— aside from the lady at the front desk. no one is as obsessive as you to want to stay even another second practicing when you already have for the whole day— on a saturday night, no less.)

you spend the next thirty minutes going over the steps you learned today that you don’t have down perfectly yet, having small cool downs in the form of stretching in between.

‘entrée d’aurore’ is still playing on your phone when you hear the distant voices of what must be the front desk lady and someone else speaking. you wonder if somebody has returned to get some extra practice in as well, and as you hear footsteps approaching, you remain sitting on the floor doing toe touches.

the door to the classroom opens, echoing slightly in the big, empty space— you lift your head to see someone who definitely is not a part of the sleeping beauty cast.

“y/n?” taesan says somewhat quietly, eyes looking around the big room that only holds one ballerina, who looks small in comparison to the high ceilings and vacant space.

your eyebrows furrow, somewhat irritated to see him while also being surprised— not only by his presence but by the unfamiliar way he almost looks sheepish: barely taking a few steps inside the classroom, looking around like he expects someone or yourself to scold him and kick him out.

“…don’t tell me you auditioned.” you joke, although it’s said casually. your eyes only scrutinize him for a second before you look back down to your own hands as you stretch them across your straightened legs and to your toes.

taesan has seen you a handful of times when you’re in your casual practice wear, but what you’re clad in for an official performance class is a little different. you’re wearing a black leotard with a little mesh skirt, a cropped shirt overtop, tights, and black leg warmers.

you look..really cute. even when you’re pretending to ignore him.

“no. the lady at the front desk said you were in here.” he explains lamely, all his usual snarky remarks not coming to his thoughts as he watches you in your element.

“good. i don’t want to see you in tights anyway. not your aesthetic.”

“sure you don’t.”

your head snaps to look at him before you can think not to react, cheeks heating up as you see the twinkle in his eyes and the small smile he tries to conceal by pressing down his lips.

you sigh as though you’re bothered— because you are— obviously…and get up from your floor stretches to walk over to the ballet barre again. taesan follows you.

“i don’t know why you’re here but i’m practicing. you should leave.”

“who was that with you at the bar last night?”

your cold indifference is broken at the unexpected question, your expression clearly confused as you look at the man standing beside you in the mirrored wall.

“what, jaehyun? he’s my friend. he wanted to go out to celebrate our castings. y’know, for the performance i’m trying to practice for right now?”

“so it was a date.” taesan remarks, eyes hardening right in front of you— and there’s that angered burn in your chest again, your hands squeaking from how tightly they hold onto the barre as your expression turns sour.

“who i date isn’t any of your business to speculate. i haven’t asked you what you and that fangirl got up to last night, have i?” you snap, raising a challenging brow at him— but it only makes him shake his head in unbelief, staring at you like you’re an absolute idiot.

“what? y/n, i don’t even know her name.”

“yes, well, i’m not surprised over that. i’m guessing it’s not very important for you to learn a girl’s name— as long as you’re in between her legs by the end of the night.”

his hand is on your shoulder, turning you around to face him abruptly as he stands closely, right in front of you.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you think i fucked her?”

“i don’t want to know what you di—“

“shut the fuck up.” taesan orders, his fingers curling over your wrists making you wonder when they got there in the first place.

“make me.” someone (you?) says, and then you feel the cold press of taesan’s lip ring against your mouth.

it’s firm at first: the way his lips slam into yours, how both of your expressions still look pissed off at each other, even with both of your eyes closed. but eventually you seem to realize that taesan is actually kissing you— and then you’re melting into him, sighing as you feel his touch soften in response.

his kiss quickly turns demanding, lips moving against yours in pursuit of your taste. you squeak when his teeth bite at your bottom lip, not knowing you’ve fallen right into his trap until his tongue has already seized the opportunity and invaded your mouth. turns out you weren’t wrong when you thought you spotted a ball stud piercing on taesan’s tongue, you can most definitely feel it when he brushes it against your own appendage.

your head is pushed against the mirror from his vigor and you whimper, never having felt so dominated simply by a man’s kiss; taesan explores your mouth like he owns it, like it’s his, and it makes your core pulse, a flicker of neediness growing.

the rough groan he lets out as his hands move to roam and grasp at your waist hints at his possessiveness, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin material of your leotard.

“didn’t fuck her. didn’t want to.” he murmurs between the eager movements of his lips. “just wanted to make you jealous.”

“wh— why?” you manage breathily, taesan pressing his body against yours as your hands move to brace yourself on the barre.

“because i like you, y/n.” he smiles and huffs in disbelief at your denseness.

“i want to take you on a date— whether you let me between your legs or not.” he smirks, referring to your earlier harsh remark and making you cringe at the reference.

“i…i’d like that.” you say shyly, looking at him through your lashes. “the date— and..and the other thing too.”

“the other thing?” taesan repeats, confused as you only avoid his gaze, not further explaining— but funnily enough, your sudden bashful attitude is what makes it click in his mind.

“princess?” he experimentally calls, pleased when you automatically lift your head to look at him. his tongue unconsciously peaks out to play with his lip ring as he cockily grins, hand creeping up from your waist to pinch your chin between his fingers.

“why don’t you be a big girl and tell me what you mean?”

your nose crinkles, a pathetic attempt at defiance amidst your embarrassment. taesan’s other hand pinches the tender skin of your thigh, causing you to flinch and whimper at the slight pain as he makes a disapproving sound under his breath.

“come on, y/n. be good or i won’t give you what you want.”

“i— i want you...i meant—”

taesan does anything but go easy on you, eyes dark with mischief as he lowers his head to nibble at your neck. you squeeze your thighs together, looking for relief from the way your pussy now pulses prominently.

his hands move in tandem, one cradling along your jawline while the other brushes up and down your thigh, making you annoyed at your tights with how they keep you from feeling the cold brush of his rings against your skin.

you want them off. you want taesan to take them off. so you admit it.

“want you to fuck me. please, taesan.”

“awe,” he coos. “aren’t you a sweet one.”

you swear the tone in which he says those words turn you into goo, your hands releasing the barre to desperately hold onto his shirt.

“please.” you beg, finding yourself only wanting more praise— more of him— just anything he’s willing to give you.

taesan is able to identify the look in your eyes, staring at your lips and leaning down so slowly, making you whine at his teasing until he finally grants you mercy and kisses you again.

it’s dirtier than before: a lot more spit, moans, and movement from both of your tongues. taesan’s leg leans against the wall between your thighs, and whether it was his purpose to give you relief or not, you take the opportunity and hesitantly grind your core against his ripped jeans.

the pleasure is immediate, sending a tingle up your spine that has you arching against his chest, forgetting any shame as you begin to earnestly grind your hips against him. the thin layers covering your core paired with the roughness of taesan’s denim creates a wonderful friction, feeling how wet you’ve become in your panties.

“shit, you’re such a slut for it.” taesan remarks in genuine awe after breaking the kiss to watch the little show you’re putting on. his eyes take in every movement, from the way you rock against him to how your eyes squeeze shut and you tilt your head back.

the previous song playing on your phone has long since finished as some other tune now plays from your playlist— taesan suddenly becoming aware of it and that he has a girl whimpering and riding his thigh in the middle of a dance classroom.

he abruptly pulls away, the presence between your legs disappearing as you conjure a bratty sound from your throat.

“y/n,” taesan scolds in a harsh whisper. “did you forget where we are?”

“thought you said you’d fuck me if i was good?” you argue, flashing him a defiant expression.

“you think using my thigh to get yourself off without my permission is being good?”

your eyes widen, not expecting him to call you out on it.

looking to the floor and hearing taesan’s responding laugh at your childishness, it only makes the desire to act out against him stronger— you’re just not sure how you can do it in this moment.

“get your things. we can go to my place.” taesan offers, your stomach fluttering at the idea as you do what he says— moving to grab your phone, bag, and change out of your ballet wear.

your heart is pounding out of your chest and what’s between your legs hasn’t calmed down at all either by the time you walk out of the dance studio and sit in the passenger seat of taesan’s car.

and the drive is just as excruciating.

the man seems hellbent on teasing you by not giving you a drop of attention, keeping his eyes on the road while some rock song plays through the speakers. and you know he knows what he’s doing, how you can’t keep his eyes off of him, because the corner of his mouth is subtly turned.

you see no reason to hide it since he’s already aware, so you stare at him— once again admiring how hot his hands look wrapped around the steering wheel, the contours of his jawline and perfect side profile illuminated by the low hanging sun.

your eyes keep wandering— down, down, down until you get to his lap, where you see the large bulge tenting his pants.

your mouth waters and your hands twitch, wondering if he’s really as big as he looks and hoping you’ll get to find out by the end of tonight.

then you’re struck with an idea, recognizing the perfect opportunity you have right now— and you reach your hand out confidently to grope him over his pants.

you’re so proud at the way it makes taesan softly gasp under his breath, back stiffening at the unexpected touch. you mold your hand over his clothed dick, rubbing and gently squeezing— in all the right ways apparently, as you feel him twitch in your hands— even through the thick denim fabric.

“y/n, stop it.” taesan grits, and you hear the squeak of what you guess is his hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel. you don’t look at him until after you’ve located the head of his cock, rubbing over it with your thumb and meeting his fiery glare with a teasing bite to your lip— clearly pleased with yourself.

taesan is visibly pissed at your blatant act of defiance, but he gives you one more chance in the form of a threat.

“you’re not very patient, are you, princess? keep touching my dick like that and you won’t even get to see it out of my pants.”

your hand immediately stills— the man releasing a huff of disbelief when you pull your hand away completely to lay both of your hands on your lap, avoiding his gaze as you stare ahead.

not another word is shared, taesan enjoying the way you nervously squirm in your seat as he finally pulls into his apartment’s parking lot.

“stay.” he simply orders once he’s parked, and you’re left confused as he exits the car, only to watch him come around and open your door for you— even going as far to unbuckle your seatbelt and keep a firm hold around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs of his building. it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach yet your insides twist with nervous anticipation— because he does it all with the same stern eyes he spoke to you with as he threatened not to fuck you.

when the key is twisted and his front door lightly squeaks open— his residence somehow looks exactly how you thought; dark, moody, vintage rock posters and memorabilia hanging on the walls.

you expect him to be cheesy and press you against his door the moment it’s closed, but he doesn’t— instead walking over leisurely to his couch and sitting down, legs widely spread in an oddly commanding and powerful way.

your eyes widen at the arousing image, feeling yourself become sheepish as taesan lets his eyes roam over your form without shame.

“why do you look so shy now? you were such a disobedient little slut in the car.”

you swallow, hardly able but trying to hold eye contact with him as your face heats up in a delicious sort of shame.

taesan sighs as though he’s annoyed with your silence, patting one thigh with his hand.

“come here.”

“…h— huh?”

“don’t make me say it again, y/n.” he orders— and next thing you know, your body is moving to straddle the leg he’s directed you to sit on.

“there we go. guess princesses can take orders sometimes, hm?” he rhetorically asks, but you’re nodding your head anyway.

taesan just stares at you for a bit, admiring how pretty you look sitting and waiting for what he’ll do next, so different from the bratty attitude you had during the car ride.

then his hands rest on your bare waist, giving him easy access as you had disregarded your leotard before leaving the studio, now only wearing your cropped shirt and athletic shorts.

you’re unable to conceal the shuddered inhale you take as taesan’s hands creep upward, seeing him smirk at the sound before his hands slip under your shirt and reach your tits.

“no bra?” he teases, biting his lip as his fingers pinch at your hard nipples.

“n— no,” you struggle out, flinching lightly as taesan plays with your tits without any restraint, like your body is his toy. the contrast of his cool rings against your heated skin causes goosebumps to rise on the surface of your arms, chest pushing further into his hands. “didn’t think there was any p—..point.”

you watch as taesan shakes his head like he’s disappointed, yet he’s smiling darkly.

“dirty girl.” he remarks, giving a firmer pinched tug to your hard bud and forcing a whimper to escape from between your lips. “just take everything off then.”

you’re quicker to do what he says this time, only letting your sudden shy attitude make you hesitate for a moment before getting up from his lap to discard your clothing to his floor, keeping eye contact with taesan as best as you can manage— as he seems pleased when you do. he lets out a hungry exhale when you take off your shirt and your tits are revealed to his eyes, hand leisurely jerking himself off over his pants by the time your shorts are removed— leaving you only in your underwear.

“is that a thong, princess?” taesan asks breathily, eyes slightly widening in what you think might be surprise.

“yeah? it’s…it’s what i always wear underneath my leotard.” you confirm, somewhat confused— until taesan speaks again, hand moving up and down his dick faster.

“fuck, just— just didn’t expect such a prissy girl like you to— shit, i don’t know. you’re so hot.”

you smile— and it’s equally sexy and cute in a way that makes taesan feel like he’s going to go insane if you don’t get back on his lap right away. your fingers slip beneath the band of your panties to tug them off, but he stops you before you can.

“don’t. keep them on, wanna see you make a mess in them for me.”

a part of you— the bratty side— wants to say you already have, the dark spot from your leaking arousal evidence of it. but you don’t, the desire to listen actually winning over as you remove your hands from your hips and straddle his thigh again. you hover this time, not fully sitting down as you’re embarrassed for him to feel your wetness directly against his bare skin, which are revealed through the large holes in his jeans.

but taesan catches on immediately, tutting fondly as his hands squeeze at your hips.

“all the way.” he drawls, like he’s giving a ditzy dog a command they’re struggling to understand— and it makes your stomach flip, hurrying to do as he says.

you know he feels it, how your panties clinging to your wet pussy lips press against his thigh— and as he bites at his lip, drawing your eyes to his twinkling piercing yet again— your face burns as you’re sure he’s probably looking at the glistening residue you’ve surely left on his skin.

“good girl.” he mutters roughly, you whining in response as your hands fist into the material of his shirt.

you feel like such a slut, sitting on a man’s lap almost completely bare while he’s fully clothed, your needy pussy slowly drenching his thigh in your juices; and you sound like one too as taesan leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth.

you gasp and stutter— unsure of what you’re even trying to say as taesan chuckles around your bud, continuing to flick and roll his pierced tongue over you. the contrast of his warm appendage and the occasional brush of round metal against your skin makes you sensitive, hole clenching around nothing with every other swipe of his tongue.

“like that?” he whispers before switching to give your other breast attention.

“yes,” you quietly moan, wrapping your arms around to grip and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, subsequently pushing his face deeper into your tits.

he likes that— if his responding groan is anything to judge by, his hands pulling your hips forward and drawing a more unabashed sound from your lips at the movement.

“use me. get your little pussy off on my thigh.”

“fuck— yes,” you obey, rocking your hips and finding a rhythm.

“shit. that’s it, baby.” he coos, his hand suddenly reigning down against your ass a contrast to his soft tone as it leaves your skin tingling with heat. “just a few little touches is all it takes to get the brat out of you, huh?”

you scoff at that— though it’s interrupted by a moan when taesan flexes his thigh. shame burns your skin and his little remark makes you want to act out again, but all you can do is grind your pussy against him, gasping and going faster whenever your covered clit gets brushed over just right.

your hands that are still tangled in his hair pull to disconnect his mouth from your tits, leaning down to kiss him instead. taesan doesn’t scold you for the demanding gesture— but he does lift a hand to grasp it over your throat. he doesn’t squeeze, but the simple act makes you feel so good and dominated— and his other hand which gropes at your ass and snaps the string waistband of your thong has you falling further into delirium.

“please— please, tae. wanna cum.”

“then cum.” he says simply, and when you finally open your squeezed shut eyes, he’s staring at your desperate face with amusement— and just like that, you’re pissed.

“taesan! i can’t! not— not enough!” you whine, not even able to think about how pathetic you sound.

“you’re cumming by my thigh or not at all. this is what you get for acting like a fucking whore while i was driving.”

you whisper out a sigh, and it’s so broken and helpless as you rock your hips earnestly against him that he almost feels bad— but the bigger part of him is proud; proud in a dark and twisted way at how he’s dwindled the ballerina down to nothing but a mindless slut that’s practically crying with the need to cum.

another spank is delivered to your ass and you flinch, taesan’s hand around your neck getting a little firmer as he forces your teary eyes to look up at him— and you feel like a dog in heat as your hips never stop their efforts to bring you to release.

“please.” you beg, and taesan’s eyes turn hazey at the beautiful sound.

“come on, princess. i know you can do it for me.” he encourages— and turns out that’s all you needed.

taesan gets an up close view as your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as he feels you ruin your panties even further.

his thigh is dripping as you keep rutting your hips against him, letting out small whimpers as you work yourself through your high. taesan grants you mercy at the very end, helping you grind your hips before eventually slowing you to a stop.

then he’s picking you up and carrying you into what you can only assume is his bedroom— because in the next moment he’s laying you down on a black comforter-covered mattress and stripping off his clothes.

you’re panting, still catching your breath— but you still manage to make a somewhat teasing comment as the man’s bare chest is revealed to you.

“no tattoos?”

taesan looks up at you right after pulling his shirt over his head, black hair disheveled and brushing over his eyes as he smirks silently at you and combs it out of his face.

“i thought all emo’s had tattoos.” you tack on— and that gets him to respond.

“emo?! i’m not emo, i’m fucking punk!” he argues, somewhat offended but mostly amused as he works on removing his jeans.

“emo, punk, metalhead. it’s all the same thing.” you offhandedly say.

“…i’m about to go soft.” taesan threatens.

“kidding!” you laugh, sitting up on your elbows— and the smile is completely wiped off your face when taesan removes his boxers and his dick is finally freed, slapping against his abs.

“shit..” you whisper to yourself, watching as taesan rolls a condom on before climbing on the bed and caging you underneath him with his body.

“need me to stretch you first, princess?” taesan sweetly asks after peeling off your drenched panties, hand brushing up and down your hip soothingly.

as much as you want his sexy fingers in your cunt— you can’t wait any longer, spreading your legs for him as you flash him your best puppy-dog eyes.

“no. please just fuck me, taesanie. need you.”

“god…” taesan sighs, not making you wait anymore as he lines his head to your entrance before pushing in slowly. “oh, fuck. you’re so tight, princess.”

your chest heaves as he pushes into the hilt, your hands gripping against the sheets.

“move. fuck me hard, please. want it rough.”

you think you hear taesan mutter something about you being a dream before his pulling out till just the tip is stretching your hole— and slamming back inside.

you both turn a little animalistic and desperate, learning how the other feels and bodies being taken over by the pleasure of it. taesan’s cock stretches you out so good— he fucks you so good. the rocking of his bed frame hits against his wall, and you have a fleeting thought about if the walls are thin and if he’ll get a noise complaint— before all that is forgotten as taesan takes hold of one of your thighs and bends it against your chest.

“feel it, baby? feel how fucking bad i want you?” taesan groans between his teeth, hand squeezing tightly around your leg unconsciously— and you secretly hope it leaves mark indentations from his rings; tiny bruises from his fingers you can admire the next day.

you only can respond so his deeply uttered words with a broken moan, and taesan only fucks you harder.

“that’s it, princess got what she wanted.” he coos, eyes surprising you by how they turn a little soft— though the movement of his hips certainly never do. “always give my princess what she wants.”

you whine at that, grabbing him by the shoulders to ask for a kiss.

“fuck, you drive me crazy, y/n.” he breathes before leaning down to yet again give you what you ask for.

“but i like that about you.” he finishes between kisses.

your thighs are trembling in pleasure, sweat is lining your hairline and glistening from taesan’s chest— and you can’t take it anymore, wrapping your legs around taesan’s waist as your nails dig into his back.

“can i come, please? oh, fff— please?”

“such a good fucking slut when you got a cock in you, huh? can’t believe my princess likes it rough.”

his hand manages to squeeze between your bodies despite how tightly you cling to him, his fingers finding your clit and tracing shapes over it.

“cum, baby. get it all over my sheets.”

your body going stiff before trembling uncontrollably against him, all while your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock— it brings taesan to release as well, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow each other's cries of pleasure.

the come down is slow, taesan rolling over and pulling your body on top of his so he doesn’t accidentally fall against you in exhaustion.

your deep breaths puff warmly against his neck as he cradles you on his chest, hands swirling patterns over your back absentmindedly.

“that was…amazing.” you say around a sigh, enjoying the comforting aroma of taesan’s cologne imbedded into his sheets.

“yeah…are you done?” taesan asks, still breathy yet curious— and you raise your head to look at his face.

“you want to go again?”

“well,” taesan starts, somewhat sheepishly— yet his eyes hold that constant playful sparkle. “just thought you might be curious what it feels like to get eaten out with a piercing.”

your eyes widen, clearly shocked by not only the question but at how correct he is.

“come on, princess. you’re not slick. don’t think i didn’t notice you staring at it when we were at the bar. plus, you did say you wanted me between your legs—“

“can you stop bringing that up!?”

note ; and for anyone wondering, yes, taesan went to reader’s ballet performance. (and yes, he got jealous watching her and jaehyun dancing on stage together…part two material?🤭)

all taglists (perm/fluff/smut) are open if anyone would like to be added! age must be in bio/somewhere on pinned post if you want to be tagged in perm/smut taglist.

#ihangelic smut #taesan smut #taesan x reader #taesan imagines #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #bnd smut #bnd imagines #bnd x reader #kpop smut #kpop imagines #han taesan #han dongmin #bonedo #hard thoughts #hard hours

2K notes · View notes

4linos · 6 months ago

Text

SKZ hyung line random hard thoughts (18+) MDNI.

warnings: porn. mentions/hinting of free use & somnophilia.

(a/n: don’t take this serious 😝 i’m just bored & these are my personal opinions lol)

maknae line ver.

red links are phb & regular links are twitter!

chan

- sorry but he's a dom not a sub or a switch he's just a dom.

- very passionate lover & VERYYY experienced.

- has a hidden folder full of lewd pictures of the two of you.

- nudes/dick pics. he'll sneak off when he's busy with schedules, makes some kind of excuse that he has to use the restroom and snaps a picture or video of his hard cock to send to you.

- when you tell him you're going shopping he'll always send you extra money for lingerie, he likes those silk slips he can lift up whenever for easier access.

favorite position: missionary

"don't hold back. let me hear how much you love it."

"you're such a good girl getting all wet for me. you're all mine, aren't you?"

"cum for me, pretty one"

<<unrelated this video just reminds me of chan>>

minho

- dom !!!!!! anyone who says otherwise is wrong sorryyy (again).

- loves to be in control. at all times.

- gentle but can be rough especially when he's stressed.

- shower sex he loves shower sex

- doesn't care for lingerie because he'll end up taking it off of you anyway.

favorite position: doggy style

“beg me for it and i might let you cum.”

“that's it, baby, nice and slow.”

“go on. fuck yourself on my cock”

changbin

- switch but dom leaning.

- can be subby when he’s tired and horny

- role playing: pt/client, nurse/patient, ceo/secretary

- loves loves loves quickies before work

- lazy morning sex >>

- road headdd

favorite position: cowgirl

“i need you. please. i'll be quick.”

“you're taking me so well.”

“i'm yours to do whatever you want.”

hyunjin

- switch switch switch

- said this before (i think) but he doesn’t care if anyone can hear him. he’ll be very loud. so soooo whiny.

- big fan of somno

- public sex: fitting room, restroom, etc.

- pegging.. pretends he doesn’t like it and will never actually admit that he likes it.. he was reluctant to try it at first & ended up really enjoying it.

favorite position: 69

“i've been a good boy today.”

“please don’t stop.”

“i need to cum. please, i'll do anything.”

nini’s notes

2 posts today because why not lol again this is just for fun & i don’t know if i’m even going to make a post for the rest of the members. i’ll probably delete later heh😇.

1K notes · View notes

hollyoongs · 23 days ago

Text

⤷ MY BABY WILL BE YOURS!

시놉시스 ┆idol!𝘁͟aesan, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +2k ꒰ ⌗ smut with plot, fluff to the end ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

─────⠀reader is ovulating (oh boy) and with birth control, baby fever!!!! (just in case it wasn't clear), creampie (and yes, breeding kink), praise, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, possessiveness, rough sex, dirty talk (mutual), one partial undressing scene, multiple orgasms, first time squirting (let me know if I'm missing something)

Taesan was on cloud nine; the smile on his face—even after little Bom had fallen asleep in his arms—couldn't be erased even if someone tried to knock it off with a punch.

All the interaction felt so natural. The soft weight of her body leaning against him, the sound of her tiny giggles when he played with her dinosaur toys, the clumsy high-fives, and how she tried to say his name—Tae-tae!—all of it tugged at something deep in his chest.

He remembered playing with his little sister when she was that small, but it felt different in a good way. Due to his past experience, the staff kept praising him, calling him a "natural," saying how amazing he was with the baby and how in the future, he would be a good dad. And maybe they were right.

His manager drove him to your place. He had two free days, and he asked if he could stay with you. Not having seen each other for a while, you with college and him on tour complicated things. Thankfully, they agreed. His mind kept replaying the day's events. The more he thought about it, he missed out on the moment the reality started to turn into fantasy.

He wasn't a guest on a children's reality show—he started to see himself as a dad. A real one. With a baby that shared his eyes and your smile. You, next to him, wearing one of his shirts, a soft glow in your cheeks as you played with the baby as the mother of his child.

"We arrived. Please be careful, Taesan. Sasaengs are really something else."

“Huh?” He blinked, startled out of the daydream. “Right—thanks.”

He stepped out, grabbing the small overnight bag he had packed the night before while telling you the news in one of your many night calls. As he reached your door, he didn’t even have to knock. You opened it before he had the chance. You’d been standing there waiting for him, smile wide, eyes soft.

You barely had time to say hi before his arms were around your body, mouth on yours.

"Woah—someone missed me," you teased, laughing as he kicked the door shut behind him and pressed your back against it.

"Yeah, I did." His whispered words landed on your ears. You look at his eyes. Actually, you were looking at the intensity they were carrying. You noticed how his hands roamed your body, their grip tighter than usual, needier. You decided to kiss him back when his lips touched yours again, melting into him, until he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes.

"As you know, I took care of Bom," he said, and you smiled a little despite how breathless the kiss made you. "And behind the scenes, she called me appa. Got me thinking a little bit too much."

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your mouth, the mere thought of it warming your heart.

"What did you think, Dongmin?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. About us," he took a brief moment before whispering again. "About making one"

Your lips parted, and you hate to admit it, but the words made your body bloom with heat. "You're serious?"

He nodded, crowding you back until your thighs hit the couch. "Dead serious. I want you swollen with my baby. I want a family with you."

Then his mouth was on you again—this time rougher, his hands finally slipping under your clothes, tugging his stolen shirt up over your head without a care, leaving you only with your panties and bra, too busy making you feel everything.

"I kept thinking about you," he said between kisses, dragging them to your neck, where your eyes fluttered shut in delight. "What you'd look like... carrying my baby. Fuck—your tits, your belly..."

His hand dropped to your ass, gripping it tightly as he sat down and pulled you into his lap, straddling him. Your arms locked around his neck, your body fitting perfectly against his.

"... My ring on your finger," he finished with a growl.

"Fuck—Dongmin," you gasped, throwing your head back the moment his hands helped you ground your hips against the bulge already straining beneath his jeans.

You bit your lip. You knew dirty talk was his thing—he thrived on it, got off on hearing the filth that poured out of his own mouth when you both were intimate. But after that very brief talk, something inside you shifted. Maybe it was the way he always looked at you, or it was the way he’d said he wanted to make one—a baby, a future. Whatever it was, it loosened your tongue.

He sighed, his hand took a step further and slid under your panties to cup your bare ass. His fingers dug more when you started grinding on him, a brief pre-game of what was about to happen in a few minutes, probably even less.

You started another make-out session; it was getting even messier, tongues having a fight that he won the moment his hand grabbed the back of your head, deepening the kiss even more. He broke the kiss, but his lips were caressing each other. "You feel it, baby?"

He whispered, dragging his teeth along your jaw. You simply nodded. "That's what you do to me. Just thinking about filling you up got me this hard."

Your eyes looked for his, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-bruised, skin hot under your finger. You could bet that you looked the same. You swallowed hard, gaining confidence at the look of his state before speaking.

"I want all of you, Taesan." You whispered, breath catching, feeling your panties were getting sticky. "Please... fill me up, baby. I will take... every drop."

His eyes opened, the look in his eyes turning completely into lust. He pulled his jeans down just enough to free his cock, thick and flushed at the tip, precum already leaking, making you smile with pride. He flipped you onto your back on the couch, moving your panties aside.

He was finally over you, between your thighs, lining himself up. You were so wet that he thrust into you in one deep, punishing stroke, and you cried out, clutching at his back when he started to set a brutal rhythm, his hips practically slapping against yours, your breath only coming in sharp gasps beneath him.

He fucked you like a man possessed—even going as far as to put one of his hands right where his bulge could be seen going in and out of you. You have never felt your orgasm coming to you that fast; your eyes rolled back when the thumb of his other hand started to rub circles over your clit.

He felt how you clenched around him hard, making his thrust sloppier as he also started to reach his own climax.

"Come on, love," he rasped. "I want you to cum while I fill you up. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes! Just don't—fuck—don't stop." Your back arched as pleasure ripped through you, your hands wrapped around his arms, and you could feel how his spill was starting to get you full. He hid his head on your neck, hips jerking with every pulse.

He slowly collapsed over you, sweat-slick against yours, and lips pressed in your cheek. Still buried inside you, he kissed down your throat, letting his hips roll painfully slowly, testing how sensitive you were now.

He smiled when you whimpered, your body twitching at the overstimulation. You tried to squirm away, but when he grabbed your waist and held you still, you knew he was not having it.

"You are not leaving anywhere, I told you."

"Taesan," you gasped, nails digging into his biceps. "You already came—"

You saw the clear smirk being formed on his face. "Yeah, and I meant it when I said I wasn't pulling out. Take every single load until I'm sure you're knocked up."

You stop breathing when he moved briefly. He was getting harder again. "I don't hear you complaining, though," he added, this time pulling out until just the tip remained before snapping his hips back in, a cry leaving your throat in disbelief.

You swallow dry, locking your hooded eyes into him. "I'm not," you moaned, wrapping your shaky legs around his waist. "I want you to fuck me stupid and cum inside me again."

Again, his eyes opened. He never thought you would actually talk dirty to him again. He saw that faint smile on your face when your eyes darted at his red ears. "Please, Dongmin, I want to feel it leaking out for hours."

"Ah, fuck you." He grabbed your thighs hard and lifted you with him, carrying you to the bedroom in one quick motion. You clung to him, his cock never leaving your body.

The moment he dropped you onto the bed, he stripped his clothes off in a blur, his cock flushed and heavy against his stomach. Your bra joined the pile of clothes in seconds, and he moaned—actually moaned—when he saw your bare chest.

The view made him start pounding on you again—harder than before, to the point your eyes fluttered shut as you became a moaning mess.

The sound of skin slapping could actually cause a sound complaint from your neighbor; your breathless moans were caught by his lips as he kissed you deeply.

“Fuck,” he whispered, pressing hot kisses between your breasts, hypnotized by how they move like ocean waves. “I missed these. They’re going to be pretty swollen with milk.”

He dragged his tongue up to your nipple and took it into his mouth. The action itself brought sweet pain that made your back arch, your fingers tangling in his already messy hair.

"Tell me again, baby," he said through gritted teeth, his tip hitting your cervix every single time, like he always does. "You were brave before. Tell me how badly you want my baby."

"I want it so much, baby. I want your cum dripping out of every—fuck!" You were cut mid-sentence as he put your legs over his shoulders.

He lost rhythm for a second at your words before fucking you again with the same determination.

"Fuck, how can you be so tight? I'm touching heaven," your hands tried to touch his biceps, a sign you always did when you wanted to ride him. He grabbed them before it touched him, putting them on each side of your head.

“Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight I do everything. You just take it, princess.”

You didn't even realize how the bed rocked beneath you; his free hand moved between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, incoherent words were falling from your lips, and the only loud and clear word was his name. The sheets beneath you twisted in your fists, a clear sign of how the pleasure was building up.

"Louder, baby," he said, sweat sliding down his temples as he kept the pace brutal and steady. "Let the neighbors know how good I make you feel."

His cock was slamming deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot and treating your clit. He kept your legs folded up, pressed to his chest, with his hips grinding into the heat of your soaked cunt that was getting even more wet.

"I can feel you're about to," he sighed before he could also finish his sentence. Your walls wrapping him so good were the reason for his loss of words. "Gonna fall apart for me?"

You couldn't answer—your body was trembling, legs shaking against his shoulder, the pressure building faster than usual. Your belly tightened and your muscles locked around him as a helpless cry tore from your throat.

"Shit, it's—it's too—!"

"Yes, you can, baby." He was dragging his body over yours, eyes engraving all your facial expressions into his mind. "Give it to me. Show me how—god—much you want me to fuck my baby into you."

The new sensation was making your head fuzzy; his thumb pressed harder as his hips pistoned with a perfect precision, combining to send you into complete bliss.

Your body seized beneath him as a hot wave of pleasure ripped through you. Your thighs shook violently on each side of his head, a scream caught in your throat as liquid gushed from between your legs, soaking his abs, thighs, and the sheets—nonstop.

Taesan froze for a beat, his eyes wide for the third time in a day, cock buried to the hilt as he watched you come undone like never before.

"Holy fuck," he breathed, a pure stunned tone in his words. "You just squirted, baby."

You could only whimper, way too overstimulated and dazed. Your hips were twitching as aftershocks rippled through you. He slowly eased out, eyes fully locked on the glistening mess between your thighs; the delightful combination of his cum mixed with yours caused him to lick his lips.

"Look at you," he murmured as he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, dragging your hips forward. "Made a mess just from me fucking you the way you deserve."

You tried—really tried—to close your legs, his hands keeping them apart, spreading you open to admire the way you pulsed and throbbed, still dripping. His impulse won when he got near your cunt, licking a long stripe up your inner thigh, humming against your heat.

He saw you covering your face with your hands and smiled a little. "Don't hide from me now, princess," he said with tenderness and pride—a lot of it. "That was one of the many hottest things you have done."

You removed your hands from your face. "I didn't mean to, Dongmin."

"Hey, don't ever say that," he said, kissing your knees as his hand caressed your leg. "That was beautiful. You're beautiful."

You laughed weakly; you saw him climbing back over you.

You blinked up at him, still breathless, flushed all over.

"How was my dirty talking?" you asked, cheeks pink and laughing softly alongside your boyfriend. With a soft smile on his face, he brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead as he looked down at you with utter adoration.

"You really surprised me," he said, his grin more evident. "In the best way possible."

He leaned in softly to gently kiss your cheek, then your jaw, and finally your lips—playful and tender. "I didn’t realize you had it in you. You got me so turned on I almost lost it right then."

You couldn’t help but giggle, tucking your face into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. Your legs rested over his as your bodies relaxed together. His fingers lazily traced gentle patterns on your thigh, his voice soft and warm against your ear.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. "I meant what I said." You looked at him, his eyes already in you, his hand went to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "I only want a family if you are by my side."

─── NEW FORMAT CHANGE! after the pool, i decided i will do this change, plus it has been a while since i posted for bnd (plus first smut of them). HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT LOVES ♡ @onedoornet

#𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗹𝑦𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠! ৎ ˚⋅#onedoornet #taesan smut #taesan x reader #taesan imagines #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor x reader #bnd smut #han taesan #han dongmin #hard thoughts #hard hours

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pankesitopank · 1 month ago

Note

oh i have a poly request if thats okay.

minhwa or yunwoo or yunhwa (you pick) being roommates with reader and theyre doing it without the other knowing. like reader is sleeping both of them but they didnt know. until they do know and que the threesome lol

i love roommates trope

What They Don't Know

pairing: Mingi x Reader x Seonghwa

wc: 5k

cw: poly!mingixreaderxseonghwa; smut without plot; secret "relationship" (like, they are no a couple, they just fuck); threesome duh (mxwxm); double penetration; possessive behavior (mingi); no condom (a true diva use one); idk, if i missed something let me know!!!

note: It took me so long to finish this.... m sososo sorry, I hope it's what you had in mind and I hope you like it! It's the longest piece I have!!!

You’d told yourself it was a one-time thing.

The first time you fucked Mingi, it was reckless and fast and shouldn’t have happened—but the problem was, it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt like something you’d both been building toward since the moment you moved in.

Now it’s the third time, and he’s got your leg slung over his broad shoulder as he fucks into you on the living room couch. The TV is still on—some mindless show playing in the background—but it might as well be silent for all you can hear over the wet, messy rhythm of his hips meeting yours and the low groans escaping his throat.

“Shit,” Mingi pants, leaning forward until his chest is brushing your knee, the new angle making you gasp. “You’re so fucking tight today. You miss me?”

You bite your lip, trying not to moan too loudly. The walls aren’t that thick, and Seonghwa’s bedroom is just down the hall.

“Mingi—” you whisper, breath hitching when he grinds into you, staying deep and rolling his hips slowly.

He grins like the devil. “That’s not a no.”

You’d like to say you’re in control of this. That the two of you falling into bed was a power play, a casual thing, an itch scratched. But every time you let him in—literally and otherwise—you’re left feeling less like the one calling the shots and more like a girl who keeps saying yes to her cocky, loud, stupidly hot roommate who doesn’t know how to wear a shirt.

Or close a door.

“Mingi—faster,” you whisper, fingers tightening in the fabric of the couch.

“Oh, now you wanna tell me what to do?” he chuckles low in his chest, but he does it anyway, pulling back to snap his hips in hard, quick thrusts that make your head fall back against the cushions.

The sound is obscene—wet and rhythmic and too loud—and the fact that Seonghwa could walk in any second only makes it hotter.

You shouldn’t like this. You shouldn’t crave the danger, shouldn’t enjoy the way Mingi’s hand clamps over your mouth as he fucks you harder, muffling the sounds that threaten to slip out.

But you do. You like the way his fingers curl around your face, how he doesn’t stop even when your eyes go wide and your legs twitch around his waist. You like that he gets off on it too.

“You’re dripping,” he groans, dragging his thumb over your cheekbone. “Like this pussy knows who it belongs to.”

He’s possessive, but in a way that feels addictive—like he wants to ruin you just enough that no one else could ever compare.

(Not that he knows someone else already is.)

You whine under his hand, your nails digging into his bicep as your hips jerk up into his, chasing your high.

“Almost there, baby?” he murmurs, pulling his hand away just enough for you to gasp for air. “Come for me. You always get so fucking wet when I talk like this, huh?”

“Mingi—fuck—” your voice breaks, and you arch under him, thighs trembling.

“That’s it,” he growls, grinding deep into you with a stuttering rhythm as you clamp down around him. “God, you’re perfect.”

You don’t hear the front door open.

Or the way Seonghwa’s bedroom door clicks shut from down the hall.

But Mingi does.

He freezes.

Your eyes snap open just as he covers your mouth again and leans down, his hips still buried inside you, sweat dripping from his brow. His lips brush your ear.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers, barely audible, “or he’s gonna find out what a little slut you are for me.”

Your whole body tightens at the words, arousal pooling again even as your mind screams at you to be more careful.

Footsteps in the hallway.

You and Mingi don’t move.

For a breathless second, it feels like everything will fall apart.

But then the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts, and Mingi—smiling like a boy who just stole candy from the store—starts moving inside you again.

“Missed you too much,” he mutters, kissing your neck. “Gonna finish, then I’ll clean you up.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, biting into your lip as he picks up the pace again.

This isn’t just a fling. It isn’t just a secret.

It’s a time bomb.

You don’t remember how it started, exactly. Maybe the night you came home after drinks with Seonghwa, tipsy and giggling and falling over your own feet. Mingi had been awake—shirtless, of course, sitting on the counter and eating noodles like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You look hot,” he’d said, blunt as ever. “You’re lucky Hwa’s not a little braver.”

You’d laughed, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

He’d kissed you before you could put your purse down.

And you’d let him.

That night, he’d bent you over the kitchen counter and told you not to be loud. You came twice and almost knocked over a glass in the process. He didn’t even ask if it was a bad idea.

He knew it was. You both did.

That was two weeks ago.

Now, it’s become a game—secret glances over breakfast, brushing hands on the couch, sneaking into his room in the middle of the night while Seonghwa’s fast asleep. It’s messy, addictive, and exhilarating.

But sometimes… you feel guilty. Because Seonghwa isn’t just your roommate too. He’s sweet. Gentle. He makes you tea when you’re stressed, brings you snacks when you’re working late, and always knocks before coming into your room.

He’s not the type to throw you against a wall and make you scream—but you’ve wondered, late at night, what would happen if he did.

Sometimes, the guilt hits while Mingi is asleep beside you, one hand curled possessively over your hip.

Other times, it hits when Seonghwa is smiling at you over his coffee mug and calling you “angel” like it means something.

You shouldn’t have slept with either of them.

But you did.

And you’re not sure you can stop.

Not when Mingi pulls your panties down in the laundry room because you teased him too hard during dinner. Not when he whispers filth in your ear when Seonghwa is in the room, watching you with those soft eyes like he doesn’t have a clue.

Only… you’re starting to think he might.

Or worse—Mingi’s going to find out that he’s not the only one who’s had you moaning into a pillow behind closed doors.

And when he does?

You have no idea what’s going to happen.

It starts with comfort.

A quiet night, both of you curled up on the couch under the same blanket, legs tangled, half-watching some drama neither of you are really following. Mingi’s out with friends and the apartment is calm for once—no blasting music, no yelling from the kitchen, no sudden crashes.

Just the sound of rain against the windows and the soft, steady beating of your heart as Seonghwa’s fingers stroke over your shin where it rests across his lap.

You should move.

It’s too familiar—too cozy—and you know what’s been happening with Mingi, what’s still happening, but…

But Seonghwa looks so beautiful tonight.

Hair pushed back from his face, wearing that oversized white sweater you once teased him for because it made him look like someone’s boyfriend.

He didn’t argue.

He just smiled and said, “You’d look better in it.”

You told him he was full of shit.

He said he wasn’t joking.

That was the first time you looked at him a little differently.

This is the first time you kiss him.

His lips are warm and soft, and the way his breath catches makes your chest ache. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t push. Just cups your cheek like he’s afraid you’ll vanish and kisses you again, deeper this time.

Like he’s wanted this. For a while.

You moan without meaning to, and he pulls back just slightly, eyes dark but uncertain.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, thumb stroking under your jaw. “If this isn’t—”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

It’s too easy to say. Too honest. And it’s not a lie. You don’t want him to stop.

Even if it’s wrong.

Even if Mingi was inside you three days ago with your hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Seonghwa doesn’t know.

And he kisses you like he wants to worship you.

You don’t sleep with him that night.

You kiss until your lips are sore and he touches you over your clothes, hand down your pajama shorts and fingers moving so gently it makes you shiver.

He makes you come with slow, teasing strokes, murmuring soft praises against your temple the whole time, and then lets you curl up against him under his blankets, warm and trembling.

In the morning, he makes you breakfast. Kisses your wrist when he hands you coffee.

Mingi walks in halfway through the meal, yawning and rumpled and clearly nursing a hangover.

“Why’s everyone so happy?” he groans, flopping into a chair.

Seonghwa just grins.

You almost choke on your eggs.

The guilt is different this time.

With Mingi, you felt like you were playing with fire. Like it was a game of who could sneak around better, who could take more risks without getting caught. And you loved the danger of it. Still do.

But with Seonghwa… it feels more like you’re breaking something sacred.

He doesn’t treat you like a fuck.

He treats you like something he wants to hold onto.

There’s less noise. Less desperation. But so much more meaning.

Like the night he has you on his desk, the one covered in sketchbooks and open novels. He’d spent the whole day working on a song, headphones on, completely zoned out—and you’d wandered in, sat in his lap, teased him about how long it’d been since you’d had his attention.

He kissed you so deep your toes curled.

Now your shirt is halfway off and his hands are dragging your panties down your thighs while you sit on the edge of his chair.

“Hwa—” you whisper, but he hushes you with a kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth as his fingers glide between your legs.

“Need you,” he says against your lips. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

You whimper when he slides two fingers in, curling them just right, and you’re already so wet that it’s shameful.

“You always get this wet for me,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw. “You know how good you feel? How sweet?”

You nod, even as your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at me, angel.”

You do.

And when you come on his fingers, biting into his shoulder to stay quiet, he holds you through the aftershocks like you’re something fragile.

You shouldn’t want this.

You shouldn’t crave the way he touches you like you matter.

But you do.

And you can’t stop.

It doesn’t take long for patterns to form.

Mingi gets your body. Seonghwa gets your heart.

Or maybe you’re just lying to yourself to make it feel better.

Because sometimes, you see Seonghwa look at you like he’s sure he’s the only one touching you like this. The only one who’s kissed your thighs, your stomach, your lips with so much care. The only one who’s fucked you slow in the shower and whispered that you’re the only one he thinks about when he’s in bed alone.

Sometimes he brings you flowers on random days. Sometimes he cooks for you, then leaves a plate out with your name on it if you’re working late. Sometimes, he lingers in doorways with that look in his eyes like he’s about to say something important, but never does.

You want to deserve that.

But when Mingi corners you in the kitchen one night and fucks you over the sink because you moaned his name in your sleep the night before, all of it comes crashing back.

You’re caught between two men who think they’re the only one.

And you’re falling for both of them.

The scariest part?

You don’t want to stop.

Seonghwa makes you feel wanted. Needed.

He’s the one who makes your heart race when he brushes your hair behind your ear. The one who memorizes your drink order and buys your favorite snacks. The one who holds you like you’re more than a warm body in his bed.

But he’s also the one who never asks where you go late at night.

Never questions why you come out of the bathroom with Mingi’s hoodie on.

Never stops to think that maybe—just maybe—he’s not the only one who has you like this.

And maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to know.

Or maybe he already does.

One night, after Seonghwa’s made you come so hard you see stars, he tucks the blanket around you and brushes a kiss over your forehead.

“I wish we could tell him.”

Your stomach lurches.

You shift to look at him, heart hammering in your chest. “Tell… who?”

He smiles, eyes soft but sad. “Mingi.”

“I—”

“I know you’re scared,” he says gently. “But he loves you, too, you know. Just in his own way.”

You’re frozen.

Seonghwa doesn’t push. He just kisses your knuckles and pulls you close again.

You don’t sleep at all that night.

And the next morning, Mingi watches you across the table with something unreadable in his eyes.

It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon.

Mingi had left that morning, a little earlier than usual—just said he was grabbing coffee with a friend and maybe hitting the gym. You'd kissed him goodbye with swollen lips, sore thighs, and one too many bite marks on your neck from the night before. Seonghwa had only smirked at the sight when you wandered into the kitchen later, shirtless and stretching like nothing was out of the ordinary.

You thought Mingi would be gone for hours. Enough time. Plenty of time.

You thought wrong.

The front door cracked open softly. Mingi stepped inside, earbuds still in, phone in one hand, keychain swinging in the other. He kicked off his shoes without a sound, half-listening to a voice message—until he heard it.

A soft sound. A moan, muffled.

He paused.

The hallway stretched toward the bedrooms, and everything about the apartment seemed normal. Quiet. Peaceful.

Except…

Another sound. Louder this time. A gasp. Faint, but real. And yours.

Mingi frowned, pulled out one earbud. His feet carried him slowly, cautiously down the hall. Something in his gut twisted—confusion first. Then something colder. Something hotter.

And then he heard it again.

Your voice. Breathy. High. Seonghwa's name.

A crack of skin on skin.

The rhythm of it is unmistakable.

Mingi’s breath caught. His whole body went still in the hallway.

No. No way.

He stepped forward, just once, and the view that met him through the barely ajar door made his heart stop.

There you were—straddling Seonghwa in his bed, riding him like you were fucking made for it. Hair sticking to your sweat-slicked neck, lips parted, moaning with every bounce of your hips. Your back arched, tits bouncing, fingers digging into his chest as Seonghwa held your waist and thrusted up to meet you.

Mingi couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

What the fuck.

Shock. Then fury. Then—

Lust.

It hit him like a truck. Because you looked so fucked out, so pretty, so ruined—and not by him. By Seonghwa. His best friend. His roommate.

He knew that face you were making. He knew the way you whimpered when you were getting close. He knew that you were about to come.

And it wasn’t for him.

You didn’t even notice him at first. Neither of you did. Too lost in it. Too noisy. Seonghwa was panting curses into your skin, one hand tangled in your hair, the other squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise.

Then your eyes fluttered open.

And you saw him.

Standing in the hallway. Watching.

Everything froze.

Your breath hitched. Your body stopped moving. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Mingi’s jaw was clenched. His stare sharp and unreadable. Arms at his sides, chest rising slowly—too slowly. And then…

He stepped inside.

Silent. Stalking. Dark eyes locked on you like you were prey. Seonghwa sat up, trying to cover you instinctively, but Mingi raised one hand to stop him.

"Don't," he said quietly. A whisper. A warning.

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to beg—but he was already standing at the edge of the bed, eyes dragging over the way Seonghwa’s cock was still buried in you, your body frozen in place, your skin glistening.

“How long,” he asked, voice low, too calm.

You swallowed. “Mingi—”

“I said,” he cut in, stepping closer, “how long have you been fucking him too?”

You trembled. “Not… not that long…”

“Bullshit.” His voice cracked now, heated. “You think I don’t know how you sound when you’re close? How you look when you’re about to come?”

Your silence said everything.

Mingi laughed once. Dark. Bitter. But there was a curl to his lips that made your stomach flip.

"You've been fucking both of us. For weeks."

It wasn’t a question.

And when you nodded—small, sheepish, shivering—something in him snapped.

“That’s so fucking dirty,” he breathed, stepping closer to the bed. “You’re filthier than I thought.”

Seonghwa opened his mouth, maybe to defend you, maybe to apologize—but Mingi didn’t even look at him. His eyes were glued to you.

“You let him fuck you in our apartment. In his room. With my cum probably still inside you.”

You flinched.

“Oh,” Mingi smiled. It was not kind. “That’s what it is, huh? You like this. You like being caught. Being used. Being filled by both of us.”

He reached out and brushed his fingers over your cheek. You whimpered.

“Mingi, I—”

“I should make you get on your knees right now and explain exactly how many times you’ve done this behind my back.”

You shuddered.

“But you know what?” he whispered, leaning in close, mouth grazing your ear. “I’m so hard right now, baby. So fucking hard. You’ve been playing with fire for weeks, and now…”

His eyes flicked to Seonghwa, who was still breathless, wide-eyed beneath you.

“…now I think it’s time you burned.”

He backed up a step. Tugged his shirt over his head, slow and purposeful, baring the sculpted lines of his chest, his abs flexing with every breath. Your mouth went dry.

"You wanted this?" Mingi asked you, voice low and hot. "You wanted to be fucked by both of us? At the same time?"

You nodded. Breathless. Shame and desire tangled in your gut.

He tugged his sweatpants down, and his cock sprang free—hard, heavy, throbbing. The sight of it made your cunt clench around Seonghwa.

“Oh, you do like this,” Mingi muttered, staring at where the two of you were still connected. “Still dripping from him, and your greedy pussy’s already clenching again.”

He climbed onto the bed behind you, spreading your knees wider as he leaned in to speak low in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you too,” he whispered, dragging his cock along the curve of your ass. “You’re going to sit on both our cocks before I’m done with you. You’ll take us like the little cock-hungry slut you are.”

You whimpered, head falling back.

Mingi bit your shoulder.

“Beg for it.”

You hesitated.

He slapped your ass once, sharp and fast. You gasped.

“Beg.”

“Please, Mingi… I want you both. I want you so bad, I—”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

You shuddered. “You—both of you—”

“No,” he growled. “Say my name.”

“Mingi,” you gasped. “I’m yours.”

His cock nudged your hole from behind.

Seonghwa gripped your hips tighter.

And you knew, in that moment, there was no going back.

Mingi kissed your shoulder—then looked over it, straight at Seonghwa.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

Seonghwa’s eyes burned. “You sure?”

“I want to watch,” Mingi whispered. “I want to feel her come on your cock. And then I’m going to fuck it back out of her.”

Your whole body trembled.

And just like that, the rhythm started again—Seonghwa’s thrusts, deeper now, more intense, as Mingi held you in place, cock teasing between your folds. He didn’t slide in yet. He waited. Made you feel the heat of him. Made you ache.

And just as you started to come undone, voice cracking, walls fluttering around Seonghwa—

Mingi grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard.

“You’re ours now,” he murmured. “Hope you’re ready.”

Because this was only the beginning.

Your knees are still jelly from being caught—fucked—against the hallway wall, Mingi’s hand on the back of your neck, the growl in his throat echoing in your ears. Seonghwa’s voice still haunts your skin, the way it trembled when he realized what was happening, when he saw what you had done. And now—now you’re laid out between them, thighs trembling, mouth parted, eyes wet and barely able to focus.

Mingi’s behind you. Seonghwa’s in front. And they’re both looking at you like they’re going to devour you whole.

“Oh, baby,” Seonghwa murmurs, dragging his fingertips along your jaw like he’s trying to memorize it. “You were really gonna keep this to yourself?”

“I didn’t— I just—”

“You wanted us both,” Mingi cuts in, low and molten, his hand skimming up the back of your thigh. “You couldn’t choose. So you didn’t. You let us both fuck you like it was a secret.”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“But you let it happen,” Seonghwa finishes for him, leaning closer, his breath hot against your lips. “And now look at you.”

Pinned between their bodies, naked and heaving, your skin marked by both of them already—bruises blooming along your collarbone, teeth indents in your thigh, slick smearing down your inner leg. You’re soaked, overwhelmed, and so close to tears from the heat of it all—and they haven’t even really started.

“Such a pretty little liar,” Mingi purrs against your ear, his voice full of dangerous affection. “But if you’re gonna be ours, baby, you don’t get to keep secrets anymore.”

You gasp when you feel it—his cock, hard and thick, pressing against the back of your thigh.

“Oh my god—Mingi—”

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, sliding one hand around to your front to part your folds, “We’re gonna fuck you so good, you won’t even remember your name.”

And just like that—he pushes in.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as Mingi’s cock sinks into you from behind, slow but deliberate, stretching you wide—wider than Seonghwa had minutes ago. He groans behind you, head tilted back, the heat of your pussy pulling a low, broken sound out of him.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight after Hwa… still greedy, though. Still taking all of me.”

Seonghwa watches the way your face crumbles, leaning in to kiss the corner of your lips.

“You’re so pretty when you cry,” he says, his voice velvet and cruelly sweet. “Is that why you wanted us both? So we could see how wrecked you’d get with two cocks instead of one?”

“I— I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” Mingi growls, gripping your hips tighter. “You’re gonna take both of us. Right now.”

Your eyes go wide. “B-Both?”

Seonghwa smiles slowly. “Oh, sweetheart… You didn’t think we’d share you without fucking you at the same time, did you?”

You can barely breathe as Seonghwa slides down your body, shuffling between your shaking thighs. You feel him nudge your entrance with two long fingers, already coated in your slick, and then—slowly, teasingly—he slides them into your already stuffed pussy beside Mingi’s cock.

You scream. There’s no other word for it. The stretch is unreal, your walls fluttering and fighting to accommodate the width, the heat, the obscene pressure.

“Shhh,” Seonghwa coos, kissing your temple, “You’re doing so good. Just let us in.”

And then—you feel him line up lower. Lower. At your tight, untouched hole.

“Wait— Hwa—what are you—”

“Gonna fuck your pretty ass, baby,” he says, voice breathless as he kisses your cheek. “Fill you up from the other side. You want that, don’t you? Want to be completely ours?”

Your whole body trembles, but you nod. Whimper. Beg. Anything. Just do it. You’re too far gone to say no. You need them. You need all of them.

Mingi growls as he braces your hips. “God, you’re so fucking filthy.”

Seonghwa lubes you up with his spit, his fingers gentle but insistent, working you open with care—but you’re already so overstimulated, every touch sends sparks through your spine.

And when he finally slides in, pushing into that second tight ring of muscle with a low groan—

You break.

Your voice cracks, your hands scramble for something to hold, but all you feel is them—their heat, their cocks, their hands, their mouths. You’re pinned in place, fully impaled, filled everywhere.

Seonghwa kisses your shoulder softly. “You okay?”

You nod, sobbing, gasping—“Yes. Please. Move.”

And they do.

The pace they set is brutal.

Mingi rocks into you from behind, slow and hard, while Seonghwa thrusts up into your ass, perfectly timed so you never have a second to breathe—only to feel. Your body’s reduced to a shaking, crying mess, your legs unable to hold you up, your voice breaking from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, she’s clenching so hard,” Mingi growls. “You feel that, Hwa?”

“Every twitch,” Seonghwa pants. “She loves this. Our filthy little girl loves being double-stuffed like a toy.”

You moan loud, hips bucking, and both of them chuckle darkly.

“Oh, that’s the spot,” Mingi says, adjusting your angle and slamming in deeper. “Right there, huh? That makes you cry.”

Seonghwa leans in and licks your tears. “So pretty. So full. You were made for this, weren’t you?”

You can’t even answer—you’re sobbing through your third orgasm, and they’re still not stopping. Their cocks keep pounding into you, your slick running down your thighs, your walls clenching again and again as you lose all sense of time, space, sanity.

Your hands grasp for something—anything—but Seonghwa grabs your wrists and pins them to the mattress.

“You take what we give you,” he whispers, low and dangerous. “You asked for this.”

“Such a greedy little slut,” Mingi adds, voice wrecked. “Wanted both our cocks in you at once. Look at you now.”

You’re beyond words. Just gasping, trembling, coming again and again as they use you, wreck you, claim you.

When Mingi’s pace starts to falter, you know he’s close.

“Hwa,” he pants, “switch?”

Seonghwa nods. “Let’s finish her together.”

They flip you over—Seonghwa behind you now, Mingi in front, cock glistening and ready. He grabs your chin, tilts your head up.

“Open.”

You obey, mouth dropping open, and Mingi slides in with a deep, satisfied moan.

Seonghwa fucks you from behind, hips snapping against your ass, and Mingi thrusts into your throat at the same rhythm. You’re choking on him, tears running down your face, drool spilling onto your chest—and you’ve never felt more loved. More wanted. More owned.

Their pace builds, both of them panting, groaning, gripping your body like it’s the only thing keeping them from falling apart.

And then—together—they come.

Mingi spills down your throat with a growl, hand tangled in your hair. Seonghwa finishes deep inside your pussy with a gasp, hips jerking, his nails digging into your waist.

You collapse between them, trembling, sobbing, completely wrecked.

You don’t remember falling asleep. Just warmth. Hands. Kisses. Water on your lips. A towel between your legs.

When you finally stir, your body sore and ruined, you feel two warm bodies curled around you.

Mingi’s nose is buried in your neck. Seonghwa’s hand is laced with yours.

“You okay?” Seonghwa whispers softly, brushing hair from your face.

You nod.

Mingi smiles against your skin. “Ours now, right?”

You blink up at them, smile through the haze. “Always.”

And you swear—you’ve never felt so full. So loved.

So perfectly ruined.

465 notes · View notes

imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year ago

Note

thinking about how there isn't enough on virgin!minho

like things get a little handsy and then you learn how sensitive he is... idk i just love subby whiny min but i haven't seen any inexperienced/virgin minho around :/

Made of Glass

pairing: lee minho x reader

warnings: dom afab reader (no pronouns are mentioned, reader does have a hole but i don't think anything else - besides minho referring to the reader as a goddess once), sub virgin minho, lots of build-up, little bit of a handjob, grinding on his bare dick, penetrative sex ( r receiving, haven't written it in a long time so don't get mad if it's shit😻), fluffy build up (they're in love your honour), he says he hates you a lot (but he doesn't mean it cause we love subby tsundere boys)

word count: erm...about 4.6k

-- MINORS BEGONE --

Minho wasn't ashamed of the fact that he was a virgin.

Untouched and "pure", undirtied by the hands of another some might even say. Specifically you, teasing him with light kisses and gentle touches.

And sure, he'd gotten to 2nd base in a high school relationship and older drunken mishaps but never anything more. Never as so far as to...feel certain things from another person.

Or from himself for that matter.

But no, wasn't ashamed that he was a virgin but he was maybe, perhaps, just a little bit embarrassed.

And he had absolutely zero idea how to breach the topic with you much less approach it.

You, who knew he was a virgin. Always so patient and careful with him.

Obviously, it should be expected that in the heat of the moment you stop when he freezes up or slows when he tenses up. But none of his previous partners had ever treated him so nicely, without getting angry or miffed off after at the very least.

They hadn't kissed his cheeks gently with a smile and conceded into a cuddle after it happened several times. They hadn't wrapped him up in their arms and turned on a movie, or delicately asked to talk about it after the fact.

You did though.

With no questions and no pressuring and no guilt-tripping. No anger.

He loved it. He loved you...as long as that had taken for him to come to terms with, with you and with himself.

He loved you.

And he was ready.

To...to, yeah.

And what better way than to just come out and say it? But that's embarrassing.

"I think I wanna...you know."

"Darling, sorry, can you speak up?" You looked up at him, yawning and setting your phone down on the coffee table.

He flushed and turned away, "um..." and he could feel every ounce of confidence in his body drain out of him like that.

Under your eyes, like this, you so attentive to listen to him. So nice, giving him your whole attention like he was the only thing that mattered.

You patted the couch next to you and he had no choice to sit down, falling into your arms like he was the missing piece to your puzzle.

He was quick to nuzzle his face into your throat, hiding against you. You just made him so nervous. Why did you make him so nervous still? After dating for this long, you shouldn't make him feel this way still.

Fluttery and gooey and nervous.

He'd say he hated it. The way you made his heart flutter...as sappy and love-drunk as that sounded.

He'd say he hated it when your hand cupped his cheek, turning him back to you. But he didn't hate it. Not one bit.

"I love you."

A grin split across your face, lighting up in that way you always did when he said those three words. No matter how many times he's said it, it would still drive you crazy like it was the first.

You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose gently. "Say it again for me darling? Just one more time, please?"

Now you were teasing him. But you couldn't help it. You loved teasing him so much. Loved fluttering kisses over his face and hearing him say those words again and again and again.

You didn't think you could ever get sick of it.

"Fuck you," He groaned but his tone with filled with anything but malice, making you laugh; letting him bury his head into your neck. "Fuck you for being so..."

"So what?" You challenged. "Hmm?"

His voice was muffled against your skin, barely legible, "So...insufferable." But he must like suffering then. "And intolerable." And he must have built up some tolerability, maybe because he was around you so much, indulging in you far too often.

You pulled his body against yours, leaning back to slot his body onto yours.

He was too eager to follow your lead.

To let himself be maneuvered so his hips were pressed against yours and your chest was aligned with his, so softly you moved him, so carefully you treated him.

He could feel your heart beating in time with his, fluttering and quick. He loved the feeling like he loved everything about you.

Fuck you for making him feel like this.

For the butterflies in his stomach. And the flush on his cheeks. And the hard-on between you and him, wishing desperately you wouldn't notice.

But of course you would.

You pulled his face from your neck, hands holding either side of his face, keeping him in place - like he'd want to be anywhere else.

"So I'm insufferable and you're...what?" Your lips pouted and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss them. To kiss you. Hard and fast and the way he needed.

He pretended to think but was only sidetracked by the feeling of your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, tracing his lips and following down to his jawline.

"Mmm, I'm...handsome. And, uh," he let out an embarrassing breathy sigh when you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth so softly he wouldn't be sure it was there if he hadn't watched you.

"And...?" You prompted, smiling coyly. You knew the effect you had on him.

You peppered kisses over his face, following where you'd touched him with your fingers seconds before. You nipped at his cheek and pulled away before he could properly reply.

"...pretty?" Though the words came out more as a question than anything else. "I mean-"

A giggle escaped your lips, "Hell yeah you are," you brush your nose against his, looking at him in a way so scarily intimate he has to look away first.

"Pretty..." you mutter, sighing. "Y'know, I think I can accept being insufferable and intolerable if you can accept being pretty," you whisper, guiding him back to you with a delicate kiss, finally to his lips. "And handsome," you murmur, smiling against him as he deepens the kiss, hands grasping at the fabric of your shirt.

You pull away with a small teasing smirk, "And beautiful, and gorgeous, and stunnin-mmph!"

His hands fist the fabric, pulling you in before you can continue with your stupid rant. Before you can focus on the way his heart pounds when you add on another praise.

You hum and recede into the motion, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth, sloppyily, in the way oddly reminiscent of the way horny teenagers kiss.

In a matter of seconds he's turned the kiss from sweet to something not-so-sweet.

Exactly what he wanted, and maybe he wouldn't even need to suffer through the awkwardness of asking.

Everything he put in was returned by you in the tenfold, one hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, the effects making you laugh against his lips. His form shivering into yours, full-bodied and obvious.

"Sensitive?" You pulled away, with a breath, mouth curling up. "It's okay, it's cute-mmph!"

He crashed his lips against yours again, effectively cutting off your words and your thoughts. Even if you continued to play with the nape of his neck, fingers teasing over the spot. The feeling only made him more and more desperate.

But if he was needy, you were nothing but eager to reply, deepening the kiss like you were trying to consume him whole.

"Darling," you mutter, too soft. "Minnie," you groan, holding him to you gently.

But you were too soft, too gentle.

He wanted more, he wanted you.

Unrestrained, doing what you wanted for once, using him like you wanted. Because he wanted it.

Wanted to not be treated like he was a piece of glass, in danger of breaking every moment. He loved how carefully you treated him but now he wanted to be treated rough, he needed to be treated rough.

But he didn't want to say it.

Slowly, he pressed his hips against yours, shuddering at the fizzle of friction sending sparks through his nerves.

"Minho," you sighed, nails scratching against his scalp making him whine. "Darling," with a particularly harsh nip to his lips, almost hard enough to break the skin - that was what he wanted.

A whimper built up in his throat only to be swallowed down. He wasn't that desperate yet. Even if every one of his movements seemed to argue otherwise, finding a clumsy rhythm in grinding against you, replicating and intensifying those sparks.

Building them up to what he hoped was more.

Even if the motions were clumsy and new. Curious but wanting all the same, the way he moved was raw, exploring and ruining. It made his head spin and everything else go foggy.

You dragged your mouth away from his, tugging his head up by his hair to lick your way down his neck.

A lick and an open-mouthed kiss, making him shudder and shake, heat emanating from the areas you touched and the places you pressed together.

Separated by stupid clothes but not enough to stop him.

He must look pathetic the way he thrusts against you, each discordant grind getting more desperate, more sloppy with the skim of your mouth. With the drag of your tongue down his jaw and pulse-point, heart thrumming beneath your lips. With every shockwave of euphoria that tingles down his spine, with every moan and whisper of his name that leaves your lips.

"Minho," "Minnie," "Baby," "Darling,"

His head is too fuzzy to worry about anything else. To think about the needy noises that leave him, he's sure he sounds lewd, and dirty.

From just dry-humping against you.

But it's not enough. He wants you rough and hard and on top of him. Showing him what to do, telling him what to do. To make him feel good, to make you feel good.

He falters imperceptibly. Should he...?

No, he doesn't want to. He can't. Because how is he supposed to ask you to-

He's caught up in his head but his body works on autopilot, reacting to the sensations that are bringing him closer and closer to cumming in his boxers.

Caught up in his thoughts but not so much so that he forgets about you,

and he certainly doesn't miss anything you say, like the words "Such a fucking good boy," nearly growled into his throat, voice husky and ragged as your teeth scrape down his skin.

Good boy?

He freezes. Heat pools deep inside of him, warm and making him painfully, painfully hard. The words push him nearly to the edge, and he can feel himself on the precipice of-

And then he's being shoved back, hard.

Harder than you meant to, but necessary for what you were about to do.

You pant, as does he, both of you flushed and trying to catch the breath stolen from your lungs.

No, no, not when he was finally getting somewhere, not when finally, finally he was getting what he wanted. Not when you were actually unrestrained and-

"I'm sorry."

His gaze snapped to yours.

"What?"

Your lips were red and parted, he was sure his weren't in much better shape. All he wanted to do was kiss them again, and again, and again.

He wants to hear you call him a good boy again.

"I-I'm sorry," you ran your hand through your hair. "I should've...I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry Minho." This time you were the one looking away.

"The fuck do you mean?" He snaps. It came out a little harsher than intended, he admits. But really, he was sitting here, horny and pent-up and just wanting to get fucked, and here you were, pushing him away and apologizing?

You blink, slowly, surprised.

And here he is, fuming.

Why won't you just fuck him?

"I'm sorry-" would you just stop saying that? His glare shuts you up. "Um," You only looked confused now, a furrow between your brow.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. You watch it.

He wishes you'd just make the first move.

Because now he was going to have to say it. Out loud. To you. Not just mumble some nonsense and hope that you'd pick it up.

"I want you." He said simply, inching closer to you.

You nodded but made no move to continue anything. "Okay..." then a sigh. "I'm going to need you to elaborate just a little, Minho."

The flush across his cheeks spreads, down his neck and over his collarbone. Why did you have to look at him like that? Like he was made of glass or something? Like you cared about him so much it made him melt.

Fuck, he loved you.

"Look at me baby." You gently cup his face, turning him to meet your eyes. "You can tell me."

You definitely knew.

He could see it in your eyes, the worry giving way to a teasing look. Now you just wanted to humiliate him huh?

He hated you.

"Shut up."

You smiled, pulling him into your chest again, laying between your legs. Just like you were before. "Well that's not what good boys say, now is it?"

He pulled his face away, burying it into your shoulder to hide from your eyes. "I don't like you." His voice came out muffled into your shirt.

You only scoff out a laugh. "We both know that's not true darling. You love me." Voice dropping to a whisper, you lean into his ear. "Do I make you nervous baby?"

Someone just kill him now.

Put an end to his misery.

"N-no;" his voice still muffled in the fabric of his your shirt. "you're just-"

"Just what?" You challenge, fingers teasing into his hair, the way you know he likes it. "You're a big boy, you can use your words, can't you?"

He shudders and swears he can hear your smirk. "I...- fuck you."

You tug on his hair, making him face you. You swear he has a eye-contact problem. Or maybe he just gets too nervous looking you in the eye.

Either way, he's too adorable not to coo at.

"I was imagining this the either way around, but whatever rocks your boat~" you purr. "All you have to do is tell me what you want."

His hips jolt against yours, heat filling his body. As soon as he does though, your free hand stills his hips, fingertips teasing under the hem of his shirt while you look at him expectantly.

He wants to hide again, but you hold him in place. Pinning him against you, not letting him look away, not letting him move.

He wants you so bad.

"Touch me..." He mutters, and your hand slides just a bit higher on his abdomen, your thighs squeezing just a bit tighter around his hips.

It's over for him. He knows as soon as your lips turn up just a bit more into a coy smile. "Where?"

When he doesn't reply soon enough you skim your hand up and over his ribcage. Breathing growing heavy as your other leaves his hair, trailing down his neck and over his shoulder, slipping just beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Here?"

Such a simple touch makes him feel hot.

"Or here?"

Slowly, your hand under his shirt makes its path towards his chest.

He gasps lightly when your fingers tweak over his nipple, delighting in the way he quivers, rutting against you. You click your tongue at him. "You know, I really can't do anything to you until you tell me what you really want." Lips ghost over his ear, nipping lightly at the shell. "Too bad, really. I could take such good care of a cute little virgin like you~"

His voice cracks under the weight of your touch; trying to clear his throat while biting back a moan. "I'm not cute-"

You cut him off with a kiss, tentatively, like you hadn't stolen his breath with a kiss only minutes ago. Like you're afraid to break him.

But he wants you to break him.

The kiss is too short for his taste but it effectively cuts off his thought process, making him nearly dumb against you. Not dumb enough to not catch the smile against his skin, "I'm not cute." But he sounds so cute. It only makes the smile widen, turning your attention to trail kisses down his neck, murmuring between each press of your lips.

"Yes you are." Kiss.

And for some reason, he can't argue.

"Remember?" Kiss.

"I'm...what was it?" Smile, kiss, lick.

"Intolerable?" A pause, but only for a second, taking the moment to drag your tongue across his throat.

"And you're cute," Stopping to suck on the spot where his pulse thrums, feeling his heart beat under your lips.

"And pretty..." Kissing, once again, over the pretty mark you've left on his pale skin.

"And beautiful...and stunning...and..." you pull away, looking to see his eyes hooded and pupils blown. "...not getting anything more until you can tell me what exactly you want here."

You pinch his nipple one more time before pulling away, leaving him cold, whining, grinding desperately between your legs.

He's hard enough, you wonder if he would've cum in his pants if you hadn't stopped.

"I..." he starts and you wait patiently for him to continue. If you've learned anything about Minho, it's that he's nothing if not embarrassed to voice his wants. Especially the ones like this.

You remember how he blushed and couldn't stop wringing his hands when you worked him up to ask to kiss you for the first time.

The way he couldn't look you in the eye, focusing anywhere else.

But he knows by now, you're nothing if not a tease, willing to play the long game to get him to tell you what he wants.

Fuck you.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

He's so hard though, it hurts. And his skin nearly burns with the need to be touched, to feel you on him again. And all he wants to do is let you have your way with him.

Something that won't happen until he tells you.

"Please," he whines. Though he knows it's not enough. He just wants you. "Please?" On him, touching him, teasing him, kissing him, consuming him. "I need it." pressing a sloppy kiss to your collarbones. "Just fuck me, I want you so, so bad." He pants, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Wanted you so bad, for forever now."

God, you can't wait to fuck him.

A grin blooms across your face, one that he can barely process. "Thought you'd never ask baby."

Not before you're pushing him onto his back, onto the soft cushions of the couch, switching your positions before crawling on top of him.

"M' gonna make you see stars baby." You purr, and he can do nothing else but nod dumbly, looking up at you with wide eyes like you're something of a goddess on top of him.

And you will make him see stars. Not yet anyway.

His vision goes hazy though as your hands quickly move to pull his shirt over his head, leaning down to kiss him again.

Deep and hard, filled with promises and care.

You lace your fingers with his against the couch cushions as you kiss down his jaw and down his neck and his chest and-

He gasps when you lick over his nipple, wrapping your lips around one to suck on it lightly.

Your tongue swirls around it, free hand tweaking at the other, making sure not to ignore it.

His cock is so hard, he can feel it throbbing in his sweats. He's sure he's already leaked through his underwear.

He swears he could cum from this alone.

"Don't!" He gasps and you pull away quickly, concern etched across your brow before you see his face clouded with pleasure, mouth hung open to let out breathy moans. "Please don't." He squeezes your hand in his. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."

You melt, filled with the overwhelming need to make him cum by just playing with his nipples. How cute he'd look from having his tits played with.

"So sensitive, aren't you?" You coo.

Maybe another day though. Right now, you'll give him what he wants. What he's wanted for 'forever'.

"Shut up," he scowls though it's quickly wiped away when you pinch his nipple one more time, making him gasp.

Finally, you glance down at his sweats, tenting with his boner. "Well someone's excited for me." Seeing you stare at his crotch makes him excited. His already hard cock twitching in his pants. "You're so sensitive for me, aren't you, Min?"

He hates you so much, covering his face with the back of his arm. The fact that you're only telling the truth makes him want to hide his face into your chest again.

But you're too far away, and too focused on watching his boner through his pants, fascinated by how hard you've made him with so little.

"Please," he whispers, but the way you watch him, eyes full of hunger makes him throb even more.

Somehow, he gets a kick out of you just watching him, softly moaning at his eagerness, as he lets out a hushed whisper, "Please. Please y/n, don't tease me like this. I'm already horny." His legs spread open shamelessly.

"Awe, why? Can you not handle it?" You look up at him, at his blushing face and his needy eyes. You wanna kiss him so bad.

And so you do, getting close to his lips, your warm breath tickling him. Your hand runs over his clothed cock, teasing your nails gently over the head of his dick. His eyes widen as you begin to touch him over the fabric.

But your lips quickly silence him as you kiss him again. He moans into it, the feeling of your hand on his cock, stroking him lightly and your lips on his.

Your tongue pushes through his lips as you stroke him a few more times, squeezing him lightly in a way that has his back arching off the bed, pushing into your hand even more.

Panting, you pull back a little. "Such a good boy for me, Minnie." Before you're pinning his hips to the couch and looking at him one more time for conformation.

Then you pull his sweats and boxers down in one swift movement.

And then he does see stars as you slide yourself over his hips, grinding against his bare cock.

He thinks he tells you he loves you, that he worships you, that he adores you more than anyone on this planet. He thinks his hand squeezes yours so hard that you bring it to your lips, kissing his hand and telling him to relax. He thinks you grind against him slow and gingerly, watching to see his reactions.

Like he'd ever tell you to stop.

He'd rather die.

Shoot him in the head if he ever tell you to stop, because it sure as hell isn't him.

Again, he thinks. But he isn't sure. He isn't sure of anything really right now.

His head is a mess of sensations and feelings, whines pouring from his mouth until you kiss him again and again and again.

Whispering that he's a good boy.

He's going to cum, he's going to cum.

Stars explode behind his eyes as they roll back and he isn't even inside of you yet.

And then you stop.

And he thinks tears might be rolling down his cheeks. He needs you, he needs you so fucking bad.

"Please, please, please." He pants, trying to roll his hips up against you, failing to find any contact as you sit back on your haunches, just out of his reach. "Need you," he gasps. "Need you so bad!"

You push sweaty hair out of his face, kissing the back of his hand one more time before you pull away entirely. He whimpers and you coo. "Be patient baby, just need to do something."

He watches blearily as you pull off your shorts and tries to calm his racing heart and heavy breaths as you roll a condom over his length.

"One more minute baby," you hush as you kiss him. "Are you ready?"

He nods desperately, of course he is. He's waiting for this for so long. He's wanted you for so long. He's going to go insane if you don't-

He gasps.

You groan as you slide down his length, slowly burying him inside of you until he bottoms out.

If he though grinding was intense, this was like nothing he could've ever imagined. His mouth gapes open, an endless stream of whiney moans and needy whimpers flooding into the room, feeding into you as you lift up and sink onto his again, groans of your own mixing with his.

He can't think anymore - he doesn't want to. He only wants to fall into the feeling of your walls squeezing around his dick, warm and wet as you ride him and the feeling of your hand once again finding his.

Whispering into his ear that you love him so much as you turn his head into mush

"I…I can-" Minho tries his best to talk, to tell you how good he feels. He really does, but whenever the thought comes to mind, it just gets cut off with the liquid heat coursing through his veins.

By the intense feeling of everything that is you.

He's an idiot for not asking you to fuck him sooner.

"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle breathlessly when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?" You bring your interlaced fingers to your lower abdomen, "You feel it?"

All he can do is respond with a loud sob as he nods his head to your question, hips bucking up into you, desperate to chase the high quickly approaching ever since you've touched him.

He's not going to last much longer.

"You fit so well inside me," you murmur.

He's going to cum. Of this, he's sure.

"Please!' He hiccups, but he's not sure what he's pleading for. "P-please!" For more? For less? For something - anything to stave off the inevitable, he doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want it to ever end.

You kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw. You flutter kisses over his face, so softly compared to how you're fucking him into the couch so roughly.

"I love you, Minho."

"I love you so much!" He pants and squeezes your hand, his other grabbing onto the nape of your neck as he shoves your lips against his.

He's fucking beautiful, you think. Cute and pretty and beautiful, under you, falling apart.

It's the most gorgeous sight you've ever seen, and he's whining your own name against you lips, pleading between sloppy kisses for you to let him cum, to let him cum for you.

You show your approval with a collision of lips and teeth and tongue as he tips over the edge and you follow suit. He sobs as he cums, shivering violently as waves of pleasure roll over his body, his back lifting into an arch, pushing himself deep into you with a followed whine.

Each moan and whine are muffled by your tongue pushing into his mouth but his hips still grind as he pushes himself into overstimulation, whining until you have mind enough to still his hips.

For a moment, the two of you are silent, chests heaving, both catching your breath as you pull away, looking at him.

"Minho?" His eyes are shut and his cheeks are painted red. "You okay baby?"

He murmurs something you don't catch, but you don't tease as you push the hair out of his face, sweat-soaked and tired, kissing his forehead once.

You make a move to get up off of him but he only wraps his arms around you, holding you in place. "Don't leave," he whispers, looking up at you with tired eyes. "Just stay, please. For a little bit?"

His sleepy eyes make your heart skip a beat. "Who are you and where's my Minho?" You tease softly, but give in nonetheless.

"Fuck you." But his tone is with filled with anything but malice, as he nuzzles into you like a happy cat.

"I just did." You giggle.

"I love you so much." He mutters, kissing your shoulder. "I love you so fucking much."

"And I love you too."

a/n: I did it ^-^, who's proud of me!! also haven't written reader being penetrated in a looooong time, so if it's shit, oh well :p

pls leave feedback, i need motivation to finish my other teaser fics😭

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hothardthoughts · 10 months ago

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Need this rn

Just want a pretty boy to sit between my legs in front of a mirror and make him watch as my hand slides its way up his torso to his nipples, rubbing and lightly pinching them until his body starts jolting in pleasure. Such a good boy.

My other hand reaching his pants, feeling his growing bulge. I rub my fingers on the slit, his tip already leaking, a spot forming on his pants. Poor boy, already making a mess and I've barely touched him.

A shy boy who whines when I stop touching him, his hips bucking up into my hand, desperate for some sort of friction. Oh baby, I'll stop touching you if you look away. Making him lift his eyes back to the mirror, redness spreading from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

A good boy who whimpers the second I slip my hand inside his pants, properly touching him the way he deserves. His hips meeting mine to relieve some tension from his aching cock. I rub him slowly, watching as tears form in his eyes, desperate for release. Oh baby, you'll only cum when mommy tells you to.

#subby boys #good boy #femdxm #male sub #fdom #bf x gf #bf #gf #fxmdom #submisive men #sub boys #dommymommy #fantasizing #i miss you #love #gentle femdxm #hard thoughts #thoughts

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scribesoflex · 2 years ago

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just thinking abt older miguel x younger reader (smut 17+)

age gap! dark concept!

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚.

you’re his best friend’s daughter, who he watched grow from an awkward teen to a young woman.

until puberty hit, and everything changed. no longer wanting to be around miguel or your father, prancing around like you’re better than that – than hanging out with family.

you grew up much faster than he’d hoped you would and sooner rather than later he’s loosing you to parties and dumb college boys (not like you were ever actually his) that he obviously thinks aren’t good enough.

no more wanting to spend Friday evenings snuggled on the couch, watching a scary movie. no more splashing around in his pool, shrieking out when he tosses you from the ladder. it all came to a stop.

you smiling at him or wishing him a good day coming to a halt, and he begins hearing your father complain of your behavior almost everyday. he’s getting sick of it, wishing you’d just be a good girl again. he tried to tell your father that you need punished, but he’s not having it – he swears it won’t do any good. that you’ve grown up too much.

miguel isn’t oblivious to what a young woman in college does. he was your age once, he knows. knows that your frame filled out, and that your legs grew longer, eyes got shiner, pouty lips got poutier. he just tries not to think too hard about how other men know that as well. and don’t get miguel wrong either – he feels like a creep for staring too long, looking where he shouldn’t. you look up to him.

or atleast you did.

but he’s also not an idiot, and he knows that when he’s not looking at you – you’re looking at him. chewing your lip, thinking things you probably shouldn’t, because that would just be wrong. it would be so so wrong.

it’s miguel who knows that it will do good. a simple plan really, to catch you alone, corner you and scare you into being a better daughter. miguel knows he’s a scary guy, that not even you can see past.

a late evening, one where your father is working late, and you don’t have to study. miguel is going to do it then, slipping in through the front door quietly, padding up the stairs to your bedroom.

that’s when he sees you doing something you definitely shouldn’t be.

your bedroom door is cracked, because you think you’re alone, and it’s just enough for him to see you – pillow lodged between your thighs, face screwed tight in pleasure, hips jumping and squirming. Your shirt is longer than it should be, but it’s caught on the curve of your bare ass, revealing it to his wide eyes.

He knows he should just silently retreat, go home and try to pretend like this hasn’t happened, he really does know it. but he stays put.

in a trance, length growing hard in his boxers with every stupid little incoherent plead you let out, squeaking and whining. you’re begging into the air, please wanna cum, please please. frail frame shaking and twitching. he just can’t seem to stop watching, drool pooling at the back of his throat, swallowing thickly.

you gasp out, thighs clamping tighter around the pillow, clearly approaching an orgasm, but you force yourself to stop, chewing your bottom lip. miguel thinks for a moment that maybe you can see him somehow, but that thought diminishes when you toss the pillow to the floor, falling forward, pressing your face into the mattress, legs spread wide, ass high in the air.

he can’t breathe when he sees it – your soaking pussy, screaming for him, creamy and puffy as if you’ve been at for hours.

you slip two fingers in your hole, moaning out, toes curling. the noises you make when you start thrusting your small fingers in and out, gushy and obscenely loud, make him hot. sweat building at his hairline, cock twitching in his pants.

and as if it can’t get any worse, you say it. what he’d been imagining you do.

“miguel please, need it so bad mi vida” you croon, muffled by the bed sheets, but clear as day in his ears.

“hmmm what does my sweet girl need” he coos, clicking his toungue, sucking a breath between his teeth to suffice the nerves building in his stomach.

you pause, face twisting around to see him as he trudges into your room, glowering down at you with shame. your pussy clenches around your fingers, wetness seeping out around the knuckle, and you whine.

your fingers spread your folds, letting him see your greedy hole as his hands come to spread your cheeks, shuddering at the sight up close.

“want you to fuck me, want it so so bad”

he hums, fingers ghosting over your slit, flicking your clit “since you’re begging so sweetly” he smirks.

you behave better the next day.

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. severely unedited! pt.2 here

#hard thoughts #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut x reader #fanfic smut #spiderman smut

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j-jinxee · 14 days ago

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[ ⟡ ] — NSFW audio !! :: sim jaeyun,,

─────

✦ :: imagine,, giving jake head so good he needs more of you !

!! — wear headphones,,

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izzyy-stuff · 3 months ago

Text

𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐬𝐟!𝐊𝐚𝐢

warnings: blow job, porn, inexperienced!Kai, sub!Kai ,, wc: 630

You weren’t sure how you got yourself in this situation. Frankly, if anyone told you you’d be spending your afternoon by watching porn with your best friend, you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, sitting on his bed and squeezing your thighs together as the video played on his laptop.

It started off as a joke, you think. One second you were teasing him, saying that he probably had a hentai addiction and watches it at night with Soobin, but he quickly argued with you, accidentally admitting he doesn’t watch porn at all.

You were in shock, to say the least. And at that point, you definitely weren’t thinking straight because without any other word, you placed his laptop in the middle of the bed and sat beside him, encouraging him to open it.

And so now, you’re stuck with your panties soaking wet while your eyes flicker between the screen and the boner in Kai’s pants. He tries to adjust his positions so it’s that visible but every time he does, you only get a better look at what he’s packing. Your throat bobs as you swallow, averting your eyes.

“Hav–Have you ever given a blow job before?” His words catch you off guard, making you glance at him again. Your eyes immediately fall to his crotch and you have to curse at yourself to bring your eyes back up. “I– yeah,” you admit with a slight nod of your head. He hums, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he eyes your whole body. “I see.”

“Have you…Have you ever had someone give you a blow job?” You ask back, watching his eyes widen. He shakes his head awkwardly and you nod again. “Do you wish to?”

Kai hesitates for a second before nodding, averting his eyes from you and focusing on the screen ahead instead. Big mistake. Watching the woman on the screen roll her eyes back as the guy thrusts into her immediately sends a shiver down his spine and dick. “Do you wish to?” You repeat your question, and when he looks at you again, something in him snaps. “Do you like giving one?”

And just like that, that easily, you find yourself sitting between your best friend’s legs with his cock in your mouth. His groans as he thrusts into your mouth fill the whole room soon enough and you watch him squeeze the bed sheets in his hands, holding onto his dear life.

You grin happily, taking him deeper in your throat. You gag but don’t pull back, relaxing your mouth more. You feel his fingers wrapping in your hair and glance at him quickly, feeling his dick twitch. “Don’t stop,” he moans, his breathing heavy. Ever since your lips wrapped around his cock, he’s been fighting with himself not to cum immediately as if he was some horny teenager, and every time you look at him like that, you make it a bit harder for him.

One of your hands moves lower so you can chase your own pleasure while the other cups his balls, watching as he gasps and squirms under you. It makes you proud, honestly. Seeing him so vulnerable does something with you.

It’s fast, too fast Kai would say, and before he can stop himself, he reaches his release, filling up your mouth. You pull back, the soft pop sending a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, his breath shaking as he watches you swallow and lick your lips. “Can we– Can I–” “Anything,” you assure him, moving up to kiss him. “Do anything you want, Kai.” His hands grip your waist as he chases after your lips, keeping you as close as possible. “Sit on my face then. Please.”

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez @bamgeutsz @lovingbeomgyudayone @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @saejinniestar @dawngyu @xylatox @thetxtdevil @biteyoubiteme @luvsicktyun ✶⋆ Want to get notified? Join taglist here!

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catiuskaa · 1 year ago

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you asked me to stay. [Not yet].

PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader

SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.

WC: 4.1k

CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)

REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3

A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

He's so sweet.

You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.

“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.

He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”

You could melt at the sight of him.

“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.

His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”

…

You blinked, your eyes wide.

As what?

He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.

Oh. So he knew what he was doing.

You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.

“One minute.”

You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.

“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”

There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.

You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.

“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …

Oh.

OH.

MY GOD.

He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.

For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.

But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.

“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.

He winked at you as you left.

W-What had just happened?

Your mind felt fuzzy.

Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?

Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.

He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.

“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”

Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”

And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.

But idols don’t do that.

Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.

Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.

“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”

The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.

“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.

Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.

He covered his face with his hands.

Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.

It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.

He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.

His whole body tensed up.

He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.

He knew who that was, because he had been right.

He had seen you before.

“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.

He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.

“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.

“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”

He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.

It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.

“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.

“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.

“Huh?” You muttered softly.

Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.

He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.

To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.

Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.

“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”

He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.

You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.

“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”

You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.

You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.

You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.

The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.

Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.

You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.

He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.

“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.

There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.

But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.

You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.

With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.

But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.

“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.

He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.

“Much.” Chan muttered.

His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.

But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.

He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.

And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.

His breath hitched. He stopped walking.

“Chan?” You smiled.

He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.

Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.

You grinned.

“Hi.”

He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.

“Hi.”

He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.

“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”

…

He blinked, his eyes wide.

As what?

He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.

Oh. So you knew what you were doing.

He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.

“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”

“Huh?” He inquired softly.

“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”

He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.

“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”

“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.

“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.

He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.

“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.

He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”

His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.

“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”

The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.

And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.

Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.

“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.

“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”

You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”

You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.

“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.

You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.

“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”

“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”

You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.

“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.

He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.

“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.

You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.

He tensed up under your arms.

You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.

He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.

“But you—”

“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.

“Who’s in there?”

Chan’s breath haltered.

You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.

You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.

And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.

You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.

“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.

You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.

You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.

He nodded with you.

“We should go before it gets too late.”

Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.

The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.

“Good night, Chris.”

It wasn’t going to be a good night.

Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.

Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.

Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.

He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.

may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.

He grinned.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.

[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]

When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.

There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.

His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.

Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.

He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.

But then, Minho came in to his room.

“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.

Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”

The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.

It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.

“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”

“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.

The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”

It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.

His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.

Would you know about this?

What would you do?

“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.

The same someone who knocked on his door at night.

“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.

But it hadn’t been any of the guys.

“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.

Had you ran your way there?

“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.

“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.

“Chris.” You mumbled.

He turned around to face you.

“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”

He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.

“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”

You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.

“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”

Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.

Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.

He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.

“I missed you.”

You blushed.

“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”

He kissed you again, longer this time.

His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.

He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.

His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.

Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.

He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.

“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.

The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.

He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.

“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.

He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”

His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.

“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.

“I intend to break that promise.”

Maybe you and him would be difficult.

But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!

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