axlenbear

[axlenbear]

Oh my GOD. This is so good 😭😭😭 i need this. All eight versions ausksksk

G r e y S w e a t p a n t s & M u s k

stray kids ot8 x reader | sweat-drenched worship, spit-slick ruin, and eight different ways to be fucked stupid

🖤 synopsis: You’ve always loved watching them stumble through the front door after dance practice—sweaty, breathless, loose-limbed in those damn grey sweatpants that hang just right. Usually, they shower before you can get your hands on them. Not tonight. Tonight, you ambush them. You wanted them filthy. Now you can’t stop shaking.

💌a/n: this one’s for the sinners 😵‍💫 filthy friday poll said grey sweatpants or die and y’all voted with your pussies, so here we are. shoutout to 🍒 for the original brainrot (you did this. i’m just the vessel). i blacked out somewhere between chan’s throatfuck and jeongin’s edgeplay. i’m not sorry for the filth. i should be. but i’m not. p.s. reblog if you got ruined. p.p.s. if this ruined you, tell me how. moan in my inbox. whimper in the tags. confess your sins—I eat those for breakfast. p.p.p.s. can you tell i still struggle with the aesthetic pics? yeah... 😒 ⚠️warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI | pure filth | oral (m & f) | face-fucking | gagging | deepthroating | rough sex | hair-pulling | spanking | choking | praise | degradation | sweat kink | scent kink | | spit kink | overstimulation | edging | cockwarming | fingering | squirting | multiple positions | furniture abuse | messy makeouts | creampies (wrap it up ppl) | swallowing | possessiveness | begging | dumbification | slurred speech | no plot just grey sweatpants and primal lust | explicit language | literally dripping smut | fic is horny and knows it | do not read in public unless you have a death wish

📌 Wipe your chin. Stretch first. Cancel your plans.

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

🎧 » Drip Drop — Taemin « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:25 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Bang Chan

The keypad beeps.

You barely breathe before your feet are moving—heart thudding, heat already curling low in your belly. You don’t wait. No time for hellos. No time for “Welcome home.”

The door creaks open and Chan moves inside—hood off, hair stuck to his forehead, black t-shirt clinging to the sweat on his chest, and those goddamn grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

He doesn’t even see you coming.

You collide with him in the hallway—fists gripping his shirt, mouth crashing into his before he can speak.

“Wha—mmph,” he grunts, catching your waist automatically, stumbling back a step from the sheer force of your hunger. You don't give him a chance to recover.

Your tongue licks into his mouth, hands already sliding down, tugging at the loose knot in his drawstring, fingers brushing against sweat-damp abs. He shudders. You moan.

“Fuck—baby,” he groans, pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown, lips already swollen. “What’s gotten into—”

You drop to your knees.

Right there in the hallway. No warning. No teasing. Just grab the waistband of those soaked sweatpants and pull them down with purpose.

Chan gasps—his cock already hard, flushed deep red at the tip, leaking. You look up, tongue running across your bottom lip, and he just breathes, “Oh, fuck me.”

His hand flies to the back of your head—but he’s not pushing. He’s holding on. Like he might fall apart if you move too fast.

“Didn’t even shower,” he mutters, voice thick, guttural. “You want me like this? All sweaty, baby?”

You hum in response—warm breath ghosting over his length, and he twitches.

“I want you filthy,” you whisper, dragging your tongue up the base—slow and teasing, tasting every bead of sweat, the salt of his skin, the heat of hours on his body. “I want to ruin you before you get clean.”

“Jesus Christ,” he chokes. “You’re—fuck—You’re gonna make me cum already.”

And then you wrap your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks, moaning as he sinks deeper into your mouth.

Chan loses it.

His head drops back against the wall, hips jerking forward, thighs trembling. The hand in your hair tightens, the other gripping the corner where wall meets doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

“Good girl,” he groans. “Fucking perfect like this. Tongue—ah, shit, just like that.”

He grits his teeth, hips rolling forward slow—but the tension in his thighs betrays him. He’s trying to stay controlled, trying to savor you. But the second you moan around him again, lips glossy, eyes already glassy?

It’s over.

"Fuck it,” he mutters, voice dropping to that dangerous growl you know means trouble. “You want me filthy?”

You nod—barely—mouth still wrapped around him, your tongue licking behind your teeth, dragging along every swollen vein.

He exhales through his nose and grabs your jaw, thumb pressing against your cheek. “Then take it.”

And he starts to fuck your mouth.

Not a tease. Not gentle.

Thrusts deep, the tip hitting the back of your throat before you can breathe. The wet slap of skin on your lips echoes loud in the hallway as he ruts into your face, sweat from his abs dripping down your chin. You choke, eyes watering instantly—but you don’t pull back.

You want this. Need it. Crave it like air.

"That's it, baby," he pants, looking down at you like you're something to worship and ruin all at once. “Drooling on my cock already? Fuckin' nasty little thing.”

Your nails dig into his thighs and he groans, hips stuttering. “You’re not even fighting me. Just letting me use your throat like it’s mine.”

You try to say his name but it’s nothing but a garbled choke, spit dripping down your chin, eyes red and cheeks bulging. He pulls out with a loud, wet pop—just enough for you to inhale—before thrusting back in deeper, pushing past resistance.

“Gonna cum just like this,” he hisses, twitching on your tongue, forehead slick and eyes wild. “Not even a second in the door and you’re gagging on me like a fuckin’ heat-drunk mess.”

You whimper.

He feels it—your throat clenching, your tongue flattening, your jaw relaxing just to take more. You’ve gone slack and obedient, dripping with spit and submission.

“Ohhh fuck, good girl. Good—good fucking girl.”

And then he cums.

Hard.

Hot.

Deep.

Cock pulsing against your tongue as he moans, low and filthy, holding you flush to his pelvis. You swallow instinctively, once, twice, choking just a little—and he groans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

When he finally pulls out, cock still twitching and glistening with spit, your jaw’s slack, tongue out, lips shiny, and he just watches you breathe for a moment.

“Didn’t even let me get my shoes off,” he chuckles, dark and breathless. His hand strokes your cheek, thumb smearing a bit of his own cum across your lower lip. “God, look at you.”

You blink back the tears that gathered and Chan tucks himself halfway back into his sweats, helps you up to your feet—but doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath.

His arms wrap around your thighs.

You yelp.

And just like that, he hoists you over his shoulder, your ass in the air, face pressed to his sweaty back, heartbeat thundering between your legs.

“Didn’t even let me take a fuckin’ breath,” he mutters, palming your thigh. You can feel his cum still warm on your chin. “You think you’re getting away with that?”

You squirm, giggling, breathless—but he lands a hard slap on your ass and grins when you gasp. “You’re real fuckin’ lucky I missed you today.” You try to respond, but all you can manage is a breathless whimper as he stalks down the hall, grip possessive, pace fast.

He kicks the bedroom door open. Slams it shut behind him. And tosses you on the bed like you’re the next thing he’s about to devour. Already tugging his sweats the rest of the way down, dark eyes locked on you like a promise.

You're laid out on the mattress, chest heaving and Chan’s already crawling over you. Sweats gone. Cock hard again. Eyes dark like stormclouds rolling in. You can still feel his cum smeared across your chin, tacky on your skin, and it makes your head spin.

"You look so fucked out already," he murmurs, voice thick with want. “But you’re not done yet, are you, baby?”

You shake your head, biting your lip—and he smirks like you just said something delicious.

“No,” he hums, crawling between your legs, body hot and heavy and damp with sweat. “You’re never done with me. Not until I say.”

He grabs your jaw again—thumb smearing your bottom lip, collecting his own release from your skin and pushing it into your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

You moan around his thumb, tongue curling around the taste of him, and he groans, hips twitching forward.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Such a good little mess for me.”

Then he leans in. Not to kiss. To devour.

His mouth crashes to your throat, trailing down to your chest, teeth dragging, tongue licking every inch of skin you didn’t even know was sensitive.

And when he gets between your legs? He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t talk. He just presses his cock in deep—slow and thick and overwhelming—with a groan that sounds like prayer.

You arch, crying out, hands clutching his forearms, nails sinking into sweaty skin.

“Shhh,” he coos, thrusting deep and slow. “Just let me in.”

You do. You take it. All of him. All over again. He fills you like it’s instinct—like your body was made to hold his. And once he’s buried to the hilt?

He doesn’t move.

Just holds you there, pinned underneath him, cock throbbing, your cunt fluttering from the pressure, your legs wrapped tight around his waist.

“Feel that?” he whispers, kissing your jaw. “That’s me, baby. That’s all of me.”

You whimper. Squirm. Try to roll your hips.

He chuckles—deep and dangerous.

“Nuh-uh. Not yet. You wanted me sweaty? Filthy? Unshowered and on the edge? Then you’re gonna lie here and take every fucking inch of it until I decide I’m done fucking into you.”

He grinds, slow and brutal—just once—and your eyes roll back.

"Let’s see how many loads you can hold, sweetheart.”

He then starts to move. Not fast. Not pounding. Just deep. Possessive. Each thrust a grind of heat and pressure that makes your toes curl and your back arch.

“Yeah,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours, breath hot against your lips. “You’re fuckin’ perfect like this. Wrapped around me. Taking me.”

You sob—can’t help it—because it’s too much and not enough. You’re so full, so wet, his precum already starting to mix with your slick, squelching every time he rocks into you.

“God, listen to that,” he pants, his mouth at your ear. “Hear how wet you are for me? You love this. You love getting stuffed full of me before I’ve even washed the day off.”

You nod frantically, legs locked around him. “C-Chan—fuck—I’m gonna—”

His hand slides down, grabs your jaw, tilts your face up.

“You’re gonna cum baby?” he growls, eyes sharp and electric. “Already?”

You whimper—helpless, delirious—your hips rising to meet his every push.

He’s so deep. So thick. So fucking good.

"Cum on it, then," he says through gritted teeth. “Be my good fucking girl and cum.” And you do. Your orgasm hits so fucking hard and you clamp around him with a cry, thighs shaking, eyes rolling back—and he fucks you through it, grinding deeper, sweat dripping off his body and down your chest.

His cock pulses—he’s cumming again.

“Shit—fuck—fuck, baby—”

He buries himself to the hilt with a groan that sounds like pain and pleasure melted together, hands grabbing at your waist like you’re slipping away. And then—

You feel it. Hot. Heavy. Endless. He cums again. Deep inside. But he doesn’t stop.

Just grinds. Slow. Messy. Filthy. Spreading the warmth of it everywhere inside you, cock still twitching, your cunt fluttering around the overstimulation.

He leans in, panting against your mouth, your sweat and his mixing on your skin, his arms shaking from holding himself up.

“You’re still fuckin’ tight,” he moans, rubbing himself deeper with every lazy grind. “Still squeezing me like you want another load.”

You can’t even speak. Just cry out, overwhelmed, broken open and full to the brim. And that’s when he stops moving. Just stays there. Buried deep. Cock still throbbing. Still hard. And he kisses your cheek, feverish and slow, whispering: “Shh… Just keep me inside, baby. Let me stay. We’ll move again in a minute.”

Lee Minho

You hear the door click open.

Minho having returned from dance practice. All silent and composed and already toeing his shoes off, black hoodie halfway unzipped, revealing the faintest sheen of sweat down his chest.

He doesn’t see you at first. But you’re already moving.

You don’t even let him shut the door.

You grab a fistful of his hoodie, yank him inside, and press your mouth to his before he can speak. He freezes—just for a second. Shock, maybe. You don’t usually ambush him.

But then—his hands slide around your waist. And his mouth turns hungry. He kisses back slow at first—dangerously slow—like he’s thinking while tasting you, deciding exactly how he’s going to handle this.

And when your hands drop to the drawstring of his grey sweatpants?

He grabs your wrists. Tight. Controlling. Not cruel. But unmovable. “What do you think you’re doing, baby?” His voice is a low purr. Dangerous. Almost amused.

“I want you like this,” you breathe, nuzzling into his neck. You inhale—he smells like warm cotton, salt, and that irresistible Minho scent that clings to his sweat. “Don’t want you clean. Want you filthy. Want you now.”

There’s a pause. Just the sound of your breathing. His grip doesn’t loosen and before you even know it, he yanks you toward the bedroom.

You stumble as he drags you down the hall, grip bruising on your wrist, chest rising under his damp hoodie. You try to speak—say “Minho—”—but you don’t get the chance.

Because the moment the bedroom door shuts behind you?

He pushes you onto the bed. Hard. Your back bounces on the mattress, and he’s already stripping off his hoodie with one hand, the other pushing your thighs apart like it’s his fucking right.

“You want me sweaty?” he growls, tossing the hoodie to the floor, eyes flashing like warning signs. “Want the smell of my sweat on your skin while you cum?”

You can’t even speak—just nod, breath shuddering as he sinks down to his knees.

“You really are filthy.”

He doesn’t even pull your panties down. He just presses his face between your legs, inhales hard, groans—“Fuck, that’s it.” And then licks you right through the fabric, tongue slow and deliberate, letting the scent of sweat and sex bleed together into something carnal and overwhelming.

You gasp—hips jerking—but he pins you down with both arms, holding your thighs wide apart, his face already soaked from your arousal and the heat of his own body.

“Minho—oh my god—” you choke, fingers flying to his hair.

And he rips your panties to the side with a grunt, diving in fully—tongue sliding between your folds, slick, greedy, relentless.

It’s not soft. It’s not patient. It’s devastating.

He moans low in his throat, tongue flicking your clit like he’s mapping out revenge, sucking hard, filthy, his nose bumping against your cunt, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

“Does this feel good?” he mutters between strokes, not even looking up. “Getting eaten out by a man who hasn’t even showered?”

You sob something incoherent, already trembling.

And he smirks against you.

“Good. Because I’m not stopping until your thighs are shaking and my face is dripping with you.”

And then he buries himself again—tongue fucking deep, lips locking around your clit, fingers digging into your thighs like anchors—eating you like he’s starving and your cunt is the cure.

Your head rolls back.

You’re gasping now, sobbing into the sheets, legs locked around his shoulders—but he’s unrelenting. Tongue working in slow, devastating circles, lips dragging across your clit like velvet, every move so calculated it makes you cry.

And all the while, Minho doesn’t stop moaning.

Like you taste better than water. Better than sleep. Like he came home for this. Like your pussy was the destination.

“You sound so pretty when you whimper,” he mutters, pausing just long enough to breathe before licking a thick, heavy stripe up your center—tongue flat, slow, filthy. “Dripping all over my face, and I haven’t even touched your pussy with my cock yet.”

“Please,” you beg—desperate, undone. Your thighs tremble against his jaw, and your hands are in his hair, trying to anchor yourself to something.

He chuckles darkly. “You gonna cum like this? All messy and cock-starved?”

You whimper something like yes—but he doesn’t let you finish.

His mouth clamps around your clit again, sucking, tongue curling just right—and the orgasm rips through you like lightning.

You scream, back arching, thighs clamping, hips bucking into his face—and he just holds you down and keeps eating through it, licking and lapping and humming like he’s trying to drink your soul.

“Minho—fuck, please—”

You’re babbling, shaking, overstimulated beyond reason—and then he finally pulls away, his lips slick, chin wet, and eyes dark with hunger.

“Look at you,” he breathes, licking his mouth like he’s tasting your cum for a second time. “You came so fast for me.”

You reach for him. Desperate. Feral. Already empty again.

“I need—” you choke, voice shaking. “Minho—please, I need your cock. I need it—I need to feel it—I need to be full.”

His gaze sharpens. Voice lowers.

“You need to be fucked dumb, don’t you?”

You nod frantically, writhing.

He grabs your hips—flips you with one brutal pull—and kneels behind you. His sweats are already shoved down, cock flushed and leaking, and he doesn’t tease. Doesn’t pause. Doesn’t even breathe.

He lines up and slams into you in one deep, unforgiving thrust.

You moan loudly, voice cracking, because he fills you all at once—thick, hot, stretching you wide, your pussy already soaked and fluttering from the orgasm he tore out of you with his tongue.

“Fuck yes,” he growls, thrusting deep, pace fast and merciless. “This what you needed? This what that pretty pussy was crying for?”

You’re shaking under him, face buried in the mattress, hands clutching the sheets like they’ll keep you anchored to the earth.

He fucks you like he’s claiming you, hips slapping, sweat dripping from his body onto your back, his cock dragging across every nerve inside you like he knows exactly where to aim.

“Take it,” he pants, voice breaking. “Take all of it. You wanted me dirty, baby? You’re getting all of it.”

You’re choking on every thrust. Your body jolts forward with each snap of his hips, the mattress creaking beneath you, your thighs trembling, soaked and burning.

“You wanted this?” he snarls, pace brutal now, his voice wrecked, ragged. “Wanted me like this? Sweaty. Filthy. Feral—?”

Your mouth is open, drooling into the sheets, sounds spilling out with every slap of skin-on-skin. He’s so deep, fucking you like he’s trying to stay inside you forever—like your pussy is the only place he ever wanted to be.

And then—

His hand fists your hair.

He yanks your head back—sharp, mean, delicious—exposing your throat to the hot, panting air.

“Look at you,” he hisses against your ear. “Fucked stupid already. Can’t even speak.”

Your lips tremble, eyes fluttering, brain static. “M-Min—”

“No,” he cuts in. His cock drives deeper, angling just right to grind against your sweet spot with every savage thrust. “Don’t say my name. Scream it.”

And you do.

Because the drag of him inside you is overwhelming—relentless, the tip of his cock punishing your walls just right, your clit swollen and untouched, but still throbbing. You're wound so tight you could shatter from nothing but breath.

“Fuck, I feel you,” he groans, hips starting to falter—not slowing down, just getting wilder. “Your pussy’s choking me. You close? Huh?”

You sob—legs giving out—but he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you fall. He grabs your hips tighter, slams in deeper, and pulls your hair harder.

"Cum on it," he grits out, teeth clenched, sweat dripping from his jaw to your skin. "Cum on my fucking cock like you were made for it."

You break.

Your whole body convulses—mouth open in a silent scream, vision white-hot as your orgasm tears through you. Your pussy clamps down around him, tight and wet and pulsing, and Minho groans like a demon.

“Shit—fuck—take it, baby, take it—”

He slams in one last time—deep and desperate—and cums hard.

So fucking hard.

His cock pulses, twitching inside you as he fills you deep, warm, thick—his hips rutting through it even as he moans, low and guttural, pouring himself into you like he’s emptying his soul.

You both collapse forward.

His body blanketing yours, cock still buried, cum dripping from between your legs, your chest heaving, your brain gone.

He doesn’t move. Just breathes. And whispers: “...Next time? Don’t you dare wait ‘til I’m clean.”

Seo Changbin

The lock beeps.

You’re already perched on the armrest of the couch like a trap. Loose tank. No bra. Nothing under the shorts. Waiting.

And when Changbin walks in, fresh from dance practice—hair sticking to his forehead, black tank soaked through, neck glistening, grey sweatpants clinging to his thighs like a sin—you move.

“Hey, baby—whoa—!”

You pounce. Full-body slam.

He grunts, catching you with both arms instantly—those arms—biceps flexing as you wrap your legs around him like a koala on a mission.

“Missed me that much?” he teases, grinning, breathless from the surprise. “Or are you just that horny for my sweat?”

Your answer? Mouth on his neck.

Tongue dragging over salt-slick skin, nose buried in the heat beneath his jaw, hands tugging at the waistband of his sweats.

“Shit,” he breathes, stumbling backward as you grind against him, your arousal already soaking through your shorts. “You’re fucking serious.”

“Don’t shower yet,” you pant. “I want it like this. I want you like this.”

He looks down at you. Sees the hunger in your eyes. Smirks. “You’re outta your mind.” Then shrugs. “Lucky for you… I’m worse.”

He hauls you up higher, grips your thighs tight, and throws you on the couch like you weigh nothing. You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s on you—sweat-slick, pumped, and hard already.

And he doesn’t undress you. Doesn’t even ask. Just yanks your shorts down and growls: “Gonna fuck you like this until you’re crying.”

“Spread,” he growls, voice low, knuckles bruising your knees as he pushes your thighs open on the couch. “Now.”

You do.

Breath hitching. Heart pounding. Pussy already wet and twitching at just the sound of him. Changbin lowers his sweats alongside his briefs, freeing his cock and then spits into his hand—messy, hot, unbothered—and strokes himself once, twice.

And you see it.

Thick. Veined. Heavy.

That fat fucking cock you always forget just how much it stretches you. Until it’s right there again—pulsing in his palm, the tip flushed and leaking, already too big for your brain.

“You’re already dripping,” he mutters, leaning over you with a smirk. His tank hangs loose from one shoulder, soaked with sweat, and his hips are cocked like he’s about to ruin your entire career. “You that desperate for this cock, baby?”

You nod frantically. “Please—Binnie—need it, need to feel it—”

“Yeah?” He lines himself up. Pushes in—slow at first. Just the head.

And you sob. Because fuck, the stretch. The stretch.

Your pussy clenches helplessly, trying to take him, trying to make room—because he’s so thick and heavy, the kind of full that makes your eyes water. And he hasn’t even bottomed out yet.

“Shit,” he breathes, watching your face twist. “Still so fucking tight.”

He slides in more, and more—inch by devastating inch, sweat dripping from his chest onto your belly, his hands gripping your thighs so hard you’ll have bruises.

And when he finally bottoms out?

You’re split open. Stuffed.

“God, you’re fucking made for me,” he growls, pulling out halfway—then slamming back in. “Taking all this cock, huh? Just letting me stretch this little pussy out like it’s nothing.”

You choke on a cry, back arching, nails digging into the couch.

He picks up the pace. Fast. Brutal. Loud. The wet slap of skin against skin echoes through the room. Your body bounces with every thrust, tits shaking, throat raw with moans.

“You like that?” he pants, one hand gripping your waist, the other coming up to your throat.

Pressure. Just enough. Enough to make you go dizzy—floaty—your pussy fluttering around his cock as he ruts into you like a beast.

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he snarls. “Taking it all like a little cockslut. You wanted me sweaty? Now I’m drippin’ all over you while I pound this pussy into the fuckin’ couch.”

You can’t even answer. Just sob. Shake. Clench. So full.

And when he leans in, lips brushing your cheek, voice rough and close?

“You’re gonna cum like this. On this thick cock. With my hand around your throat. Soaked in my sweat.”

You’re whimpering, barely coherent, mouth slack as his fingers tighten around your neck—just enough to make your breath shallow, your vision swim.

And his other hand? He slips it under your loose tank, shoves it up, exposing your tits to the hot air.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he sees them—bouncing with every thrust, nipples stiff, glistening with sweat. “You’re so fucking pretty like this. Messy little fucktoy.”

His hips don’t stop. Not even for a second.

Slamming into you, brutal and perfect, cock dragging along every sensitive nerve inside you like he’s trying to carve you open. You cry out, high and breathless, and he just grins.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”

His palm cups your breast, rough and greedy, thumb flicking over your nipple while his cock splits you open, while your body burns under him—your pussy fluttering, stuffed so full you feel like you might break.

You gasp into his hand, and he moans low in his throat, like he can feel your reaction in his cock.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, almost sweet if his tone weren’t dripping with pure filth. “So fuckin’ close, huh? You gonna cum just from this?”

You nod, frantic, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as he releases your throat—only to drag that hand down between your legs.

“Oh my god—”

He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t tease.

Just rubs your clit hard and fast, the way he knows drives you insane—his cock still hammering into you, still filling you with every deep, punishing thrust.

“S’too much—Binnie—fuck—” You’re blabbering, sobbing, legs shaking, the couch damp beneath you.

But he’s not stopping. Not when you’re this close. Not when you’re writhing. He leans down again, body pressing to yours, soaked tank clinging to your skin, and growls in your ear: “Cum for me. Ruin this couch. Show me how good your little cunt is at milking every drop out of my cock.”

And you snap.

You cum with a scream—loud, shaking, your entire body locking up, your pussy clamping down so hard around him he curses, slamming in deep one last time.

He shudders as you pulse around him, and then he cums deep inside, thick and flooding you, pushing it even deeper by the way your hips buck helplessly under him.

You’re sobbing into the cushions. Soaking the couch. And he’s still grinding.

“Don’t run from it,” he murmurs, fingers still working your clit gently as his cock twitches inside your ruined, overstimulated cunt. “Take it all, baby. All of it.”

You’re wrecked.

And he just kisses your neck, smiling against your skin, whispering—

“You’re not moving for a while. And I’m not pulling out.”

Hwang Hyunjin

You hear the door before you hear his voice—keys dropping, gym bag thudding, shoes kicked off with a tired sigh.

He’s home. And you’re already moving.

Because Hyunjin after dance practice is your favorite version of him. Sweaty. Loosened. Raw. His long hair sticking to his temples, his tank top clinging to his chest, and those goddamn grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, riding just right over tight thighs.

You meet him at the hallway.

No warning. No hello.

Just grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him in—mouth on his, tongue sliding deep, needy and wet and messy, and he freezes for half a second before he moans low, like a match being struck.

“What the fuck,” he breathes, dazed as you grind your hips against his. “You’re seriously doing this right now?”

You lick into his mouth, fingers already tugging at the knot in his waistband, and whisper, “I want you sweaty.”

He laughs—sharp and breathless. “Oh, baby. You’re in trouble.”

You don’t even make it to the bedroom.

He presses you against the wall, one hand already down your shorts, fingers dipping between your folds like he’s testing how badly you need it.

“You’re soaking,” he growls. “From a kiss? From my sweat? Fuck, that’s filthy.”

He sinks to his knees without warning, sweat-damp hair falling around his face, and rips your shorts down like he’s starving.

“Jinnie—!”

“Shut up,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “I’m eating.”

And then his mouth is on you.

Hot. Wet. Mean.

His tongue licks up your cunt like a threat, like he’s trying to carve his name into you with every flick. He grabs your thighs, spreads you open wider, and goes in.

He groans. Loud. And then he moans. Fucking moans like your pussy is the best meal he’s ever had, sloppy and noisy and unashamed, saliva dripping down his chin as he devours you like a man possessed.

"Sweet and salty," he murmurs, breath hot against your clit. "Just like I like it."

You’re shaking.

He presses his tongue flat, drags it over your clit slow—then sucks hard, lips locking around you, tongue fluttering fast, cruel, perfect.

Your hands fly to his hair. Your knees buckle. And he just grips your thighs tighter, moaning like he’s getting off on your sounds, your taste, your squirming.

“You gonna cum like this?” he pants, lips slick, chin drenched. “Gonna fucking fall apart on my face?”

You sob—already so close, already gone.

And he smirks. “Then fucking do it.”

Your vision’s gone white.

Your hips are grinding against his face, fingers clawing at his scalp, knees wobbling as the orgasm rips through you like a storm.

“F-Fuck—Hyun—!”

You cum on his tongue.

Messy. Loud. Drenched.

He groans—deep in his throat like he’s getting drunk on it—tongue flicking even harder, lips sealed tight around your clit as he sucks through your climax.

You try to pull away.

He doesn’t let you.

He grabs your ass with both hands and pulls you down onto his face harder—and now you’re riding it, practically sitting on his mouth, your thighs shaking, whimpering, overstimulated and wrecked and still so, so wet.

He comes up for air only after you’re crying.

Face soaked. Lips glistening. Chest rising and falling like he just sprinted a marathon.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looks up at you with those wild eyes, and smirks.

“Did I say I was done?”

You barely have time to blink before he’s lifting you up, arms under your thighs, carrying you to the couch like you weigh nothing.

“Jinnie—wait—!”

“No.” His voice is low. Commanding. Filthy. “You’re gonna squirt on my fingers, and then you can beg for cock.”

He drops you onto the cushions, spreads your legs open, and sinks to his knees between them.

“You look good like this,” he mutters, watching your cunt twitch, still wet, still sensitive. “Pussy all swollen. Just begging to be used.”

And then—two fingers. Right in. No warning, no warm-up, just thick, long and fast, curling upward like he’s already memorized every nerve you can’t handle.

You scream.

He starts to finger fuck you hard, sweat still rolling down his neck, muscles flexing as his wrist moves with precision—like an artist painting with your body.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, thrusting deep, palm slapping your clit with every motion. “You’re dripping all over my hand. You want more?”

“Please—fuck—I can’t—”

“You can.” He leans in close, breath hot against your cheek. “I haven’t even drawn my name in your cum yet.”

His fingers speed up. Wrist twisting. Palm grinding.

You lose it.

Your thighs lock, your eyes roll back, your pussy gushes—

You squirt.

All over his hand. All over the couch. Soaking the cushions, his arm, your thighs, everything.

And Hyunjin just watches. Smirking. Drenched. Hard as hell. “Yeah,” he pants, licking your cum off his wrist with lazy, hungry strokes. “Now you’re ready.”

He leans over you, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your stomach. “Now you’re gonna take my cock. And we’re not stopping ‘til you do that again.”

He leans over you slowly, tongue licking the corner of his mouth, his free hand already sliding down to push his sweats and briefs down just enough to free his cock—hard, flushed, dripping, slapping wetly against your mound.

You whimper.

"Shhh," he coos, breath hot against your cheek. "You're twitching already. Look at you. So fucking sensitive, and I haven’t even fucked you yet."

You try to speak—don’t even know what you’re trying to say—but your body is trembling, eyes wide and glassy, lips parted, hips rolling involuntarily toward the heat of him.

He reaches down and grabs his cock, drags the head between your folds, slow and mean, teasing your overstimulated clit with just the tip.

Your whole body jolts.

He watches the way your pussy jumps, the way your thighs clamp together, and smiles—soft and cruel.

"Still soaked from squirting on me like a needy little mess," he whispers, circling your clit again with the head of his cock. "You gonna cry when I finally fuck it in?"

You nod, desperate, broken, begging without words.

"Yeah? Then cry."

And he thrusts in. All at once. Deep. Heavy.

Your back arches off the couch with a scream, the sudden stretch too much, too fast, too fucking perfect, and Hyunjin moans as he bottoms out—his hips pressed against yours, your walls fluttering like they don’t know whether to grip or push him out.

"Oh my fuck—" he chokes, head dropping to your shoulder. "You’re tight as hell. So warm. Just sucked me right in."

He doesn’t move.

Just grinds, deep and slow, letting you feel every thick inch as your pussy clenches, so wet that the slide is almost obscene—your slick and his precum mixing, leaking down your ass and onto the couch.

"Can feel you pulsing," he whispers, voice gone hoarse. "Still coming down? Don’t care."

He leans up—grabs your hips, and starts to thrust. Hard. Deep. Bruising.

The sound of skin slapping against soaked skin fills the room. Sweat drips from his chest to yours. His hair sticks to his face. His cock pounds into you, and you sob from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Take it,” he growls, one hand sliding to grab your tit, fingers digging in as he thrusts rougher. “Take all of it.”

There's tears in your eyes. Mouth open in gasps. Pussy milking him like it’s trying to keep him in your body forever. “You’re shaking again,” he breathes, leaning close to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Bet I can make you squirt on my cock.”

You whimper—your whole body trembling, overstimulated to the point of delirium, sweat soaking your back, your thighs aching from how hard you’re clenching.

But he doesn’t stop.

He’s fucking you through it—deep, fast, brutal. Every thrust is precise, his cock dragging right over that spot inside you that makes your legs kick, makes your voice break.

“C’mon, baby,” he pants, licking the sweat from your jaw, voice breaking with you. “Give it to me. Fuckin’ give it to me.”

His hips roll faster, slapping against your soaked skin, the sound wet and obscene, your body bouncing under his weight. You claw at his back, crying out, overwhelmed beyond sense, your mind already unraveling.

“Jinnie—I can’t—too much—!”

“Yes you fucking can,” he growls, teeth dragging against your collarbone. “You're gonna squirt all over my cock, and you’re gonna take every drop when I cum inside you.”

And then he slams deep and grinds, hips rolling in a filthy rhythm, cock thick and twitching inside you—and something in you snaps.

“Fuck—!”

You scream, back arching violently as it hits you. Your pussy clenches so hard around him it makes him moan, and then—

You squirt. All over his cock, down your thighs, onto the ruined couch beneath you.

Hyunjin groans deep in your ear, his voice a raw, fucked-out growl as your cunt pulses around him like it’s trying to pull his soul in.

“Oh my fucking god—yes—fuck yes—”

And he loses it.

One final thrust, and he cums. Presses all the way in, burying himself to the hilt, and you can feel the way he twitches, the way he fills you—thick ropes of it spilling into your sore, overstimulated pussy as he pants above you, drenched in sweat, still shaking.

He doesn’t move.

Just collapses forward, still inside you, your bodies pressed together, cum leaking down your ass, both of you breathless, ruined, shaking.

And then—his hand cups your cheek.

“Look at you,” he whispers, voice warm, wrecked, in awe. “Made a fuckin’ masterpiece on my cock.”

Han Jisung

The door slams open—harder than usual—and there he is:

Han Jisung, soaked with sweat, hood halfway off his head, grey sweatpants dangerously low, curls stuck to his forehead, and lips already parted.

“Baaabyyy,” he groans before even seeing you, tossing his bag somewhere in the general direction of the floor. “Practice killed me. I’m so sweaty, I smell like I fought a demon and lost—”

You cut him off with your mouth.

One second he’s mid-ramble, the next, your tongue is in his mouth, your hands in his waistband, your body already on fire. His eyes go comically wide—and then roll back.

“W-Whoa—wait—wait—mmph—!”

You don’t wait. You don’t stop. You’re already pushing him into the wall, kissing him filthy, tugging those sweatpants down while he makes the prettiest little sounds—half-laughs, half-gasps, all desperation.

“W-What the fuck—what the fuck is happening?” he pants, dazed. “Did you—did you just get turned on by my smell—?”

You palm his cock through his briefs.

He whimpers.

“Oh my God,” he chokes, hands flying to your hips like he doesn’t know whether to push or pull. “You’re—fuck, you’re actually into this? You’re gonna suck me off while I’m still gross from rehearsal?”

You pull back, licking your lips.

“I don’t want you clean, Ji. I want you messy.”

He just melts. Full body crumbles, eyes fluttering, mouth falling open.

“...I’m gonna cum just from that alone.”

You grab his wrist and yank him toward the couch without a word.

He stumbles after you, breath hitching, cock already half-hard under his briefs. He’s still sweaty, flushed from practice, his skin warm and sticky—but you don’t care.

You want it. You want all of it. You push him down onto the cushions, and he just falls with a soft oof, legs spread slightly, looking up at you with wide, ruined eyes.

“Wait—baby, are you—fuck, are you sure? I smell like a locker room and I haven’t even—”

You shove your hand into his waistband.

He chokes on his sentence.

You grip both sweats and briefs and yank them down in one go, cock springing free, flushed red and twitching—already leaking for you.

“Fuuuck,” he whines, head falling back, chest heaving. “You’re serious. You’re really—oh my God—”

You toss his sweats aside like trash. Kneel between his legs. Grab his thighs. And sink your mouth over the head of his cock without a single warning.

“F-fuck—oh fuck oh fuck—”

He’s already moaning, legs tensing, hands scrambling into your hair like he doesn't know whether to push or just hold on for dear life.

Your tongue swirls over the slit, catching the precum, letting it mix with your spit as you take more—inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat and your eyes start to water.

You pull back just a little, then slide back down with a slick, wet groan—gagging softly, your lips stretched, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Jisung is losing his goddamn mind.

His hands tighten in your hair, and he’s panting like he just ran five miles.

“Shitshitshit—baby, baby, you’re gonna—fuck—if you do that again I’m gonna cum—I’m not kidding—”

You moan around him.

His hips jerk up off the couch, thrusting into your throat before he can stop himself.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, voice cracking, eyes rolling back. “I-I didn’t mean to do that—fuck, you just feel so good, your mouth is so wet, I can’t—”

You moan again around him—loud and filthy, throat tightening around his cock as your own hand slips down into your shorts, fingers diving between your legs, rubbing messy circles over your clit while he fucks your mouth like he owns it.

You’re gagging softly, drooling, spit soaking your chin, hand moving faster over your clit as he thrusts shallow and fast, hips jerking forward in helpless little snaps.

Jisung looks down.

And he loses it.

“Holy—fuck—are you—are you touching yourself right now?!”

You look up at him, eyes glassy, makeup smudged, tongue flattening under his cock, and your fingers keep moving.

You don’t break eye contact. You just moan again. On his cock.

The sound vibrates all the way through him.

“Baby,” he whines, voice cracking open like he’s about to cry. “You’re gonna fucking break me, I swear to God—”

His hands are gripping your hair, holding you down while his hips fuck into your throat, wet sounds echoing through the room, your saliva dripping everywhere—his thighs, the couch, your own chin—and your fingers don’t stop.

You’re soaked.

So turned on from the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of his precum, the sound of his needy little moans echoing above you as he loses every last thread of control.

“Y-You’re fucking gagging on me while fingering yourself—fuck, I’m so in love with you—”

That one breaks you.

You whimper hard around his cock, thighs clenching, your clit throbbing under your fingers as he holds your head still and thrusts deeper, his hips rolling forward, desperate, brutal, eyes wild and glassy.

“You’re gonna cum?” he gasps. “Oh my god, you’re gonna cum with my cock in your throat?”

You nod. Just barely. And that’s all he needs.

“Cum for me. Fucking cum while I fuck your throat—please—please—”

Your fingers move faster. Your mouth is full. Your pussy is clenching—

And you cum. Hard. Shaking. Muffled. Gagging. And Jisung, he cums with you.

One loud, broken cry as he thrusts in deep and pours into your throat, his cock twitching hard on your tongue, his entire body curling over you, sweating and sobbing and panting like he just survived a war.

And you take it all. Every drop.

You pull off him slowly, lips dragging across his length with one last, wet suck—cum dripping down your throat, your mouth glistening, your chin a mess.

And then?

You swallow. All of it. Head tilted back, throat bobbing, eyes never leaving his. Jisung is frozen. Mouth open. Hair plastered to his forehead. Cock twitching, already starting to swell again between his thighs.

“...Holy shit,” he breathes.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then push yourself up onto your knees, climbing into his lap.

He still hasn’t recovered. But you don’t give him time. You straddle him, bare thighs spread over his, your soaked core grinding down against his softening cock—already half-hard again, twitching with every breath.

“You’re insane,” he whispers, hands flying to your hips. “You’re actually—fucking—insane.”

You just grin.

Then you kiss him.

Hard. Filthy. Desperate. Spit and heat and teeth and cum still on your tongue, moaning into his mouth as he grabs you tighter, groaning into the kiss like he’s being pulled back from the grave.

He tastes himself on you. You feel him thicken again beneath you. He breaks the kiss first—panting, eyes wild, lips swollen.

“You’re grinding on me already—?” he pants. “I just came. You swallowed all of it. I should be dead.”

“You’re hard again,” you whisper against his lips.

“Yeah, because you’re fucking sitting on me, making out with me like I’m your next meal—”

You roll your hips once—slick heat sliding over his cock.

He gasps.

And then: “Sit on it.” His hands grip your ass now, pulling you closer, voice wrecked and ragged. “Ride it. Ride me just like this. Sweat, spit, cum—I don’t care. Fucking ruin me again.”

Your hands press to his shoulders, thighs shaking, cunt throbbing as you lift your hips, grab his cock, and line him up.

You sink down, slow, stretching, aching.

And the second he slides in—fully, deeply, bottoming out—

You both moan, loud and wrecked, heads dropping forward to each other’s shoulders.

Your pussy clamps around him immediately, still tender and fluttering from cumming on his tongue, from choking on him until you shook, and now—he’s buried to the hilt, twitching inside you, and you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“Holy shit,” Jisung gasps, voice cracking. “You’re so tight, baby—fuck, you’re squeezing me like you missed me—”

You start to move.

Slow grind first, hips rolling, teasing him with every inch, the wet squelch of your cunt sliding along his cock so loud it makes his jaw clench.

His grip on your ass tightens.

And then?

SMACK.

“AH—!”

Your eyes fly open, body jolting as he slaps your ass, hard and perfect, his handprint blooming red against your skin.

“I said,” he growls, “ride me like you mean it.”

Before you can even catch your breath— SMACK. Other cheek.

You cry out, thighs shaking, cunt fluttering around him like it’s begging, and he groans at the way you squeeze him tighter with every hit.

“Fuck, I knew you liked that,” he pants. “Knew you were the type to cream on my cock while I spanked you.”

He grits his teeth and grabs your hips, starts thrusting up into you from below, meeting your hips halfway with each brutal slap of his thighs. “You’re gonna cum like this,” he growls, pulling your body down to slam against his with every movement. You’re gasping, slapping down onto him, the whole room echoing with wet, dirty sounds—skin on skin, sweat, soaked moans.

"Let me take control now baby. You had your fun." he breathes, pulling your hair back to make you look at him. His eyes are wild. Pupils blown. Mouth swollen.

“You sucked me so good,” he pants, hips snapping up. “Took me down your throat like you were starving for it.”

You whimper, back arching as he keeps fucking you from underneath, slamming into that perfect spot, his grip on your hips tightening until your skin burns beneath his fingers.

“I should be giving you a nap,” he growls, thrusting deep. “Letting you rest after swallowing all that cum—” He leans in, teeth grazing your jaw. “—but you rode me like a filthy little cockdrunk princess. So now I’m gonna break you.”

Your cunt clenches at his words—hard.

And he feels it.

“Oh, you like that,” he huffs out a laugh, sweat dripping from his neck to your chest. “You love when I take it from you, huh? When I grab your hips and fuck you like I’m claiming every fucking inch?”

He slams up into you, once—hard and deep—and you scream.

“Say it,” he pants, hand sliding from your hair to wrap around your throat lightly. Not squeezing. Just enough to hold you still.

“Yours,” you sob, eyes rolling back. “I’m yours—fuck—Jisung, I’m so close—”

“That’s right, baby,” he whispers, voice rough and proud. “My perfect little fucktoy. My good girl. My cockslut.”

His hips move faster now—precise, filthy, relentless.

“You’re gonna cum again, huh?” he groans. “On this cock you sucked dry. On the same dick that dumped down your throat and still came back hard for you.”

You’re gone. Shaking. Drooling. Falling apart.

And then he lifts his hips, grinds deep, and whispers: “Be a good girl. Cum for me. Cream on my cock while I fill you up again.”

And your orgasm rips through you.

Loud. Soaked. Violent.

You clamp down around him, pulsing so hard it nearly knocks the breath from his lungs—and Jisung groans, slamming up one final time, burying himself deep.

“Fuuuck—baby—fuck—”

He cums with a moan, high and sweet, whole body trembling as he spills inside you, hips jerking, breath catching, cum flooding your pussy in thick waves.

You both collapse—sticky, wrecked, gasping.

Jisung wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple as you collapse onto his chest.

“God, you’re insane,” he breathes. “I’m never letting you suck my dick again unless we’ve got, like, a week to recover.”

And then softer—sweeter: “Good girl. So fucking good for me.”

Lee Felix

The door opens. You don’t move.

You’re curled on the couch, legs tucked under a blanket, scrolling aimlessly—but your eyes snap up the moment you hear the keypad beep and the door click open.

Felix walks in like pure comfort. Grey sweats, damp curls, flushed from rehearsal, hoodie half off his shoulder. A sweet smile spreads across his face the second he sees you.

“Hey, baby.” Voice low. Soft. Like honey. Like he missed you so bad, even after just a few hours.

You don’t say anything. Just stare. Because he looks ridiculous. All sweaty and musky and glowing, and that smile? You’re going to hell for the things you’re about to do.

He crosses the room, leans over the back of the couch to kiss you—just a soft brush of lips, but his hand finds your cheek like always. Gentle. Warm.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod. Then—reach down.

Grab his waistband. Tug. Hard.

Felix freezes. Eyes flicker. “…What’s that about?”

You smirk. “You smell too good to shower yet.”

He blinks. Once. Then again. And then—the smile shifts. Just slightly. “Oh, baby…”

He moves fast. In a blur, he’s coming around the couch, blanket yanked off, phone tossed aside, and you’re gasping as he climbs over you, caging you in.

“That little tug,” he whispers, mouth ghosting over yours, “was real fuckin’ brave.”

You grin, daring. “What if I do it again?”

He leans in. Nose to yours. Smile still soft, but his eyes?

Not sweet anymore.

“Then I guess,” he murmurs, “you want to see what happens when I stop being nice.”

You barely have time to gasp before his hand wraps around your throat—not tight, not cruel—just enough to hold you still. To make you look at him.

Felix grins.

Wide. Wicked.

Then he kisses you. Hard. Tongue greedy. Teeth catching your bottom lip. Soft hands—gone. Now they’re gripping your hips and yanking you flat beneath him, the weight of him pressing you into the couch.

"You really think I was gonna be soft forever?" he whispers between kisses, dragging his mouth to your neck. "After the way you looked at me? The way you tugged on my sweats like I’m just here to be used?"

He ruts against you—slow, heavy, his cock already straining hard beneath the fabric, grinding into your core like he’s marking the spot.

“I came home to shower,” he says, biting the shell of your ear, “but now I think I’m gonna fuck you messy and let your cum wash over me instead.”

Your breath catches—completely, violently gone—when he reaches down, yanks your shorts aside, and presses two fingers right against your soaked slit.

“Of course,” he laughs, low and smug, “you’re already wet.”

“Lix—” you gasp.

“I said you wanted this.” He kisses your cheek, sweet again for half a second—and then shoves your panties down with one hand and drags the other up to your throat. “So you’re gonna take it. All of it.”

He stands, yanks his sweats and briefs down in one motion—his cock slaps against his stomach, flushed and leaking, a fucking weapon aimed straight at you.

You stare, wide-eyed, mouth parted, thighs instinctively pulling together—

“Nope,” he grins. “Open those legs, pretty. Or I make you.”

You obey.

And then he’s kneeling on the floor, hooking your knees over his shoulders—

“I’m not gonna fuck you yet,” he purrs. “You wanted messy, right?”

He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You jolt. You scream. Because he doesn’t stop. Tongue fucking in, nose nudging your clit, moaning like you’re his favorite thing he’s ever tasted. Holding your thighs down while you squirm and cry and beg, humping his face, and he’s just smiling—grinding against the couch while he eats you alive.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. “Cum on my tongue. I’m not stopping till you do.”

His tongue is licking up every drop, flattening against your clit, then curling in with maddening precision. He groans like it’s divine, like you taste better than anything he's ever known, and you feel the sound vibrate through your whole body.

You arch. Grab at the cushions. Whimper his name.

And he just moans, mouth pressed so deep between your thighs it sounds like he's drunk on you.

“Felix—” you gasp, trembling.

He hums, lips never leaving your skin. Then, without warning—one finger slides in.

Perfect pressure. Curling. Filling.

Your eyes roll back.

"You’re gripping me so tight already," he pants, voice ragged now. “God, you really did wait for me, huh?”

A second finger joins the first. Slow. Stretching you. Fucking into you deep and steady while his tongue keeps flicking circles around your clit.

You cry out, back arching so high he has to hold you down.

"Stay still, angel," he murmurs against your soaked skin. "Let me take care of you. Just feel."

The lewd, wet sound of his fingers pumping into you mixes with his low groans—a symphony of filth and devotion. He licks harder. Sucks gently. And you snap.

Your thighs tremble violently. Breath stutters. Your hands fly to his hair—

“I—I'm—”

"Cum for me," he says into you, voice raw, fingers relentless. “You’ve been so good. So patient. Let go.”

You do. With a cry that shatters the room.

Your orgasm hits like a wave—rushing, rolling, full-body and dizzying. He doesn’t stop. Not even for a second. Sucking you through it, moaning like he’s the one falling apart.

And when your hips finally jerk away, overstimulated and slick and still fluttering, he kisses the inside of your thigh. Gentle. Sweet.

Then licks his lips, eyes dark.

“…That was one,” he says softly, standing up.

“And baby?” He presses the head of his cock between your soaked folds, eyes fluttering. “I’m not nearly done.”

Felix finally presses in. The stretch is filthy. Your mouth falls open. Your back arches. He lets out a low, broken sound that doesn’t even sound human.

“Fuck, baby…” he pants, sinking deeper, inch by inch. “You feel—God—you’re soaked.”

You gasp his name, nails digging into the cushions behind you as he finally bottoms out—deep and hot and thick and pulsing. For a moment, he just stays there, buried inside, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you trembling.

Then?

He moves.

Not gentle. Not slow. He fucks you like he means it.

Hips slamming against your thighs, cock dragging against that sweet spot again and again—wet slaps, broken gasps, filthy praise.

“Wanted to ruin you the second I walked in that door,” he groans, grabbing your waist to yank you into every thrust. “You looked at me like you needed it—needed me.”

You moan, breath catching as his pace turns brutal, the couch creaking beneath you.

“So take it.” He pulls out halfway, slams back in. “Take all of me.”

You can’t even form words anymore, just messy cries of his name, hands scrabbling for purchase as he leans over you, kissing your jaw, your mouth, your throat.

“You’re shaking so much,” he breathes, voice tight. “You gonna cum for me again?”

You nod frantically, tears prickling, already so close from how he devoured you before.

“Yeah?” he pants, thumb finding your clit, rubbing hard and perfect. “You'll hold it baby, yeah? You're my good angel, and you're gonna hold it for me.”

And you simply whimper at those words.

“Lift your arms for me, baby.” he suddenly said and you obey—barely—fingers shaking, vision still swimming, and he peels your shirt up slowly. Not rushed. Not frantic.

Just hungry.

It’s soaked with sweat, clinging to your back as he pulls it over your head. And then—his hands are everywhere.

Palms warm. Confident. Reverent.

He cups your breasts like he’s waited all day to touch them, brushing his thumbs over your nipples until they stiffen under his fingers. Then his head dips—lips soft and open-mouthed as he kisses between them, up your chest, until he can take one into his mouth.

Your back arches. You whimper.

“Felix—”

“Shh,” he breathes, voice like velvet and smoke, “I’ve got you.”

His tongue flicks, circles, sucks just hard enough to make you gasp. One hand kneads the other breast, lazy but firm, and the other? Slips between your thighs again, rubbing on your clit, a perfect rhythm to match his thrusts and you jerk at the feeling. “You’re close,” he breathes against your skin, lips grazing your collarbone, hips still moving in those deep, precise thrusts. “I can feel it.”

You nod frantically, eyes wide, barely holding on. Your body is taut beneath him, thighs trembling, hands gripping his arms like lifelines.

“But I said no, didn’t I?” he whispers, licking a slow stripe up your throat. “Told you not to cum. You held it for me like such a good girl.”

You whimper—desperate, wrecked. “Please… please, Lix…”

His pace falters. Just for a moment. Then his forehead presses to yours, eyes locked on yours, glowing with something tender and dangerous all at once.

“Okay,” he murmurs, breath warm and ragged. “Now.”

The permission breaks you. Instantly.

You unravel in his arms, clenching tight around him as your orgasm crashes through you—shaking, crying out, your entire body trembling.

And the second he feels it—the moment you pulse around him like that—he loses it too.

“Fuck, baby—god, you’re perfect—”

He spills inside you with a deep, broken groan, thrusting through it, chasing every last second of the high as his hands bury into your hips.

Even after—he keeps moving. Slow. Shallow. A few more messy thrusts.

Felix leans down and kisses your jaw. Your chest. Your forehead. He’s still buried in you, still warm, still full. “Shh,” he breathes, rocking into you once more. “I know. I know, baby.”

His voice goes soft again. Sunshine again.

“You're so perfect. All mine.”

Kim Seungmin

He doesn’t even blink when the door opens and you lunge at him.

Seungmin just tilts his head, one brow arched, sweat-damp hair clinging to his temple. His chest rises slow beneath the loose tee he hasn’t even had time to peel off. Grey sweats slung low. Post-practice glow radiating off him.

He drops his bag.

Crosses his arms.

“Wow,” he deadpans. “No ‘hi, baby’? No ‘how was practice’?”

You press your mouth to his jaw, already tugging at the waistband of his sweats.

He exhales. A quiet chuckle. “You really are desperate, huh?”

You nod, lips dragging down his neck, one hand already palming him through the fabric. “You smell so good,” you whisper. “So hot like this. I couldn’t wait—please, let me—”

And that’s when he grabs your wrist.

Hard. Firm. Controlling.

Eyes dark.

“You could’ve just said you needed to be put in your place.”

You blink.

He takes a step forward.

You take one back.

Until your knees hit the edge of the couch and you drop into it with a soft gasp.

“Better,” he mutters, leaning over you, hands braced on either side. “Now pick. You’re getting ruined either way.”

You swallow.

“On your knees,” he murmurs, “or on the couch. Choose.”

You don’t answer.

You can’t.

You’re already slipping off the couch and onto your knees—palms splayed against his thighs, mouth parted, breath coming fast. You look up at him with that desperate, pleading stare he lives for.

He hums. Smiles lazily.

“Good choice.”

Then he shoves his sweats down in one motion—boxers too—and his cock springs free, flushed, hard, dripping at the tip. Your mouth waters.

But before you can lean in—

His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just a bit.

“Tch. What’s the rush?” His thumb brushes your bottom lip, eyes glinting. “You couldn’t even wait five seconds to say hi to me, and now you think you deserve my cock in your mouth?”

You whimper.

“Say it,” he demands. “Say how desperate you are. Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m—” you gasp, “I’m sorry, Seungmin. I just—fuck—I need it. I need you.”

He grins, teeth sharp.

“Then open wide,” he growls, stepping closer. “Since you’re so fucking starved.”

You do.

And the second your tongue slides against the head, he groans—low and guttural—and sinks into your mouth with a hiss of breath through his teeth. “Yeah, just like that. Filthy little mouth. Fuck.”

His grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back, then guiding you forward again. His hips begin to move—slow thrusts, shallow at first, letting you adjust—but it doesn’t last.

Not when you moan around him. Not when your tongue flattens against the underside of his cock like you need to be ruined. Not when you look up at him again with tears already gathering.

“Oh, you like this,” he pants. “You want me to use your mouth. Want me to fuck it raw, huh?”

He’s fucking into you now. Properly. Holding your head still. Groaning when your throat spasms around him.

“Gonna fill you up,” he gasps. “Make you swallow every fucking drop. And then I’m gonna throw you on that couch—stuff you full all over again.”

Your knees ache, your throat burns, and your whole body trembles from how long he’s kept you like this—spit slicking your chin, breath catching every time he slides back in with a guttural groan. But god, it's worth it.

“You’re still hanging on?” he pants, jaw clenched as his grip in your hair tightens. “Fuck. You’re better than I thought.”

His hips roll into you with a little more weight now. Less restraint. More need.

“You wanted it this way, remember?” He leans in, breath hot against your flushed face as he holds you steady and thrusts deeper again. “Didn’t even let me sit down. Didn’t give me a second to think.”

You moan around him—pathetic, needy—and that seems to do something to him.

“Thought so.” His voice drops to a low growl. “You like being used, don’t you?”

You nod as best you can, mouth stretched wide, spit coating your lips. Your hands are fisting the fabric of his sweatpants at his thighs, desperate for something to hold onto.

He groans through gritted teeth. “You’re shaking. You gonna cum just from this?”

You almost do. Just from the look on his face. The weight of him on your tongue. The raw, breathless sound of his pleasure.

Then—his cock twitches in your mouth, and he hisses, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye.

“Don’t move,” he warns. “You want to be my pretty little toy? Then stay right there.”

His hands cup your jaw, holding your face still, and he thrusts into your mouth again—slow but brutal, breath coming faster, his muscles tensing with every motion.

You barely register his words through the haze,

but his voice cuts through it all:

“Be good. Take all of it.”

And then he groans. Deep. Guttural. Raw.

The thrusts falter. Hips jerk. And you feel it — thick, warm, undeniable — as he spills down your throat with a choked, breathless growl of your name.

His hand is still tangled in your hair, but he’s shaking too now, his abs tightening as he pants through it, every muscle strung tight as a bow.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You… fuck. You’re too good.”

You stay still, letting him empty every drop, swallowing around him as your hands clutch his thighs for support. He twitches once, twice, before finally pulling back, breath ragged, cock still flushed and glistening with the aftermath.

Your lips are shiny, your mouth wrecked.

He stares down at you like you’ve undone him completely.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, thumbing at your chin, his voice softer now. “Look at you.”

You look up, pupils blown wide, chest heaving.

And that’s when his smirk returns—dangerous, slow. “What?” he breathes. “You thought we were done?” He leans in close, brushing his lips against your jaw. “Cute.”

Seungmin moves and drops back onto the couch like he owns it, which he does,

sweatpants pushed halfway down, thighs spread, cock flushed and twitching against his stomach, still glistening from the mess you made together.

He looks wrecked. And hungry.

“Take it off,” he murmurs, gaze locked on you. “All of it. Want to see you.”

Your fingers tremble as you pull your shirt over your head, and he groans when he sees the state of your chest—kiss-bitten, rising and falling with every breath. Then go your shorts. Your panties. Every inch of you exposed, aching.

You take a step forward.

“Uh-uh,” he says, voice dipped in warning. “Beg first. You want me again? Ask.”

You swallow, pulse racing.

“Please, Seungmin,” you whisper, climbing into his lap with trembling thighs. “Need to ride you. Need it so bad.”

He smirks, hands gripping your waist. “Then ride me like you mean it.”

You sink down slowly—his cock still sensitive but hardening fast—and his head falls back with a growl.

“Shit—fuck, you feel perfect.”

You gasp at the stretch, the heat. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you down until you’re seated fully, your cunt fluttering around him as you adjust to the pressure.

And then—he slaps your ass. Once. Twice.

"Move baby." he coos, words contradicting with the way he slapped your ass, skin bright red.

You start bouncing in his lap, your hands braced on his shoulders, your moans slipping out faster than you can control—Seungmin thrusts up to meet you, teeth grit, pupils blown wide.

Your thighs are trembling. You’re barely keeping rhythm, gasping every time his cock presses against that spot that makes your vision blur.

Seungmin’s grip tightens. He watches you—devours you—with that sharp, dangerous glint in his eyes. Your tits bounce with every slap of skin, your pussy soaked, sucking him in like you’re trying to pull his soul out.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls. “You’re so fucking messy for me.”

You nod—barely coherent, chasing your high.

But then—

“No.”

Suddenly his hands slide down, grip your thighs tight, and before you can even react—

He flips you.

Your back hits the couch cushions with a gasp, legs in the air, and his cock slips out for just a second—slick and twitching, the loss of pressure making you whimper.

He leans over you, hand gripping your jaw, eyes dark.

“You think you can fuck me like that and not get ruined?” And just like that, he slams back into you—deep, and hard.

His thrusts are relentless now. Sharp and punishing. One hand holds your leg up over his shoulder, the other planted firm beside your head.

“You’re not done till I say so.”

You claw at his back. Your walls clench. Every snap of his hips makes your mind blank out. It’s all Seungmin—his sweat on your skin, his cock driving you insane, his breath in your mouth as he leans in closer—

“You gonna cum for me pretty girl?” he pants, voice wrecked. “Gonna cream all over me like a good girl?”

You sob a yes, so close—

He’s deep—too deep—and you’re clenching so tight around him it feels like you’re going to split open. He leans over you, bracing his forearm beside your head, the other hand dragging down your thigh, gripping until your skin dimples.

“Come on,” he murmurs, voice gravel-thick. “Come on, pretty girl. Let go.”

You whimper. You’re close. Too close.

He dips his head, mouth brushing your cheek, breath trembling. “You know I’ll be right behind you. Just give it to me.”

Your fingers dig into his back. He’s grinding now, not thrusting—hips rolling deep, slow, cruel. His cock hits that devastating spot again and again, and your eyes blur, lips parting around a helpless moan.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers. “God, look at you—falling apart for me.”

You nod, unable to speak. Your whole body’s caught in that moment right before you break.

And then—he says it:

“Cum for me, baby. Right now. Let me feel you lose it.”

And you do.

It crashes into you like a wave—hot, blinding, full-body. Your back lifts from the cushions, a sob rips from your chest, and your thighs clamp around him as your climax hits—hard and all-consuming.

He groans your name like a prayer. Hips stuttering. You feel it—his release catching up with yours, the sound he makes low and wrecked, fingers gripping your face like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the earth as he spills his cum inside, painting your insides with it.

He stays there, buried deep inside you. Both of you breathing like you just ran through fire. And then he kisses you. Not rushed. Not filthy.

Just… real. Gentle.

"My perfect fucking girl. I think I would like to be greeted from dance practice like this."

Yang Jeongin

You barely hear the keypad beep before you bolt—socks sliding on the floor, heart pounding.

The door creaks open, and there he is.

Jeongin, sweaty and flushed from practice, black hair sticking to his forehead, grey sweatpants clinging low on his hips. He’s shrugging off his hoodie when he sees you rushing toward him.

“Wha—?”

You grab his face, kiss him hard. Open-mouthed, messy, greedy.

He staggers backward with a soft grunt, dropping his bag. His hands are up like he doesn’t know where to touch first. “W–Wait, baby, I’m—sweaty—”

“I know,” you whisper against his lips, tugging at his waistband. “Don’t care. Want you just like this.”

His breath catches.

“Oh,” he breathes, voice cracking around a moan as you sink to your knees. “Oh my God.”

He looks down at you like he’s never seen anything so filthy and perfect. His cock is already hard beneath the fabric, a damp patch blooming at the tip.

“You’re serious?” he pants, shuddering when you press your mouth over the bulge. “You—you’re gonna—fuck—here? Right now?”

You nod, tongue tracing him through the cotton. “You’re not going anywhere, Innie.”

His breath hitches as you tug his sweats down, just enough to free his cock—already flushed, leaking, twitching. And when your lips wrap around the head, he chokes on his own moan, one shaky hand flying to the back of your head.

“Fuck—baby—slow, slow, please—”

But you don’t slow down. You devour him.

Tongue licking flat underneath, hand stroking the base, spit dripping to your chin. You look up at him—eyes glassy, mouth full—and that’s what snaps the last of his control.

Jeongin’s voice drops, low and tight. “Get on the couch. Now.”

You blink, stunned by the sudden shift. He’s already pulling you up, guiding you backward, his hand curled around your jaw like he can’t stand not touching you.

You fall onto the cushions, dizzy from the way he’s looking at you now—hungry and steady and unshakable.

“Take your shorts off.”

You do, trembling. He kneels in front of the couch, spreads your legs with gentle fingers, and drags two through your wetness, his eyes going hazy.

“Messy already?” he murmurs. “From sucking me off?” He smiles, soft and wicked. “Poor baby. You really thought I was gonna let you cum that easy.”

You don’t get to respond.

His mouth is on you—hot and unrelenting—tongue pressing firm and slow, lips sucking just enough to make your hips jolt. And when you try to grind into it, he pulls back.

“Uh uh.” A soft laugh. “You stay still. Or I stop.”

You whimper, hips twitching—instinctive, desperate—but his strong arms hold your thighs apart, locked down like restraints.

“I said,” he repeats, voice low and dangerous, “stay still.”

He licks up your slit with deliberate slowness, savoring the way you tremble, how wet you are already, how you pulse around nothing.

“God, look at you. Thought you were doing me a favor, baby. But you're the one falling apart.”

You gasp when he sucks your clit—just once, just enough—and then pulls away again, mouth wet, chin glistening, flushed and still panting from dance practice.

“You taste so fucking good when you’re needy,” he groans, rubbing his slicked jaw against your inner thigh like a cat marking its prey. “But you don’t get to cum yet. Not until I say.”

His tongue returns, this time featherlight. Barely there. Every flick a tease, every stroke too soft to give you what you crave. You try to roll your hips again—just a little—and he slaps the inside of your thigh.

You gasp.

“Didn’t I just tell you to behave?”

His voice is breathless now, gravelly with want, his cock hard again from watching you lose it. He exhales through his nose like he’s trying to stay calm, but you can see it—his self-control hanging by a thread.

He drags two fingers through your slick, slow and thick, then brings them to your lips.

“Suck.”

You moan around them, tongue wrapping eagerly as he watches you with dark eyes.

“God, you’re such a good girl for me. Bet you’d let me edge you all night if I asked, huh?”

You nod, dazed. “Please, Innie, I—I need—”

“You need?” His voice goes sharp, mocking. “You need to cum?”

He slips one soaked finger in—and you cry out.

It curls just right, finding that spot instantly. But then it’s gone just as fast.

“No,” he whispers. “You want to cum. And that’s different.”

You’re sobbing now, tears welling from sheer frustration, your legs trembling against his shoulders.

His thumb circles your clit again—slow, steady, but never quite enough. Just on the edge of unbearable.

“You feel that? That pressure building?” he murmurs, licking back into you. “Don’t you dare cum. Not until I tell you.”

You clench, thighs shaking violently, pleasure coiled tight like a scream in your gut.

“Innie, please, please, I can’t—”

He growls, pulling back again, dragging your hips to the edge of the couch. His sweat drips onto your bare stomach as he leans over you, still panting, still flushed from training.

“You can. You will. You’ll take every second of it for me.”

Then—he spits on your pussy. Hot. Filthy. You cry out.

“Again,” he whispers. “Mouth open.”

You obey, lips parting—and he kisses you filthy, licking into your mouth like he owns it. You taste yourself on his tongue.

He’s jerking his cock now, slow strokes as he watches you writhe.

“When I finally let you cum…” he pants, eyes gleaming, “I want tears. I want begging. I want to ruin this couch.”

And then—he slides two fingers in, curls them just right—and stops.

“Not yet.”

You sob. He grins.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum so hard you forget your own name. But not until you learn how to be good for me.”

Your body is trembling, sweat slick between your thighs and on the backs of your knees, chest heaving like you’ve just run a marathon. But all you’ve done is beg. And beg. And beg.

Jeongin’s knuckles are white around his cock now, stroking himself slow and steady, eyes never leaving you—your ruined expression, your swollen pussy, your trembling hands clutching the cushions.

You sob out his name. “Please—please, Innie, please—”

“You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?” he growls, leaning forward, gripping your jaw again. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, I—”

“You want to cum?”

You nod frantically.

He slaps your pussy—not hard, but mean. You yelp, whole body flinching.

“Too bad.”

You scream in frustration, thighs clenching, but he shoves them apart again, rutting his cock between them—rubbing the head against your slick folds, but never pressing in.

“You don’t get to cum just because you’re messy and desperate,” he breathes into your mouth. “You cum when I say. Only when I say.”

You moan—wild, helpless—as he rubs the head of his cock right against your clit. One press. Two. Three. Each time you jolt like you’ve been shocked.

“Want my cock?” he pants. “You think you’ve earned it?”

You nod so hard your neck aches.

“Open your mouth.”

You obey immediately, lips parting, tears clinging to your lashes. And Jeongin spits into it.

“Swallow it.”

You do. Without thinking. Without shame.

“Good fucking girl.”

And that’s when he snaps. With one hand braced under your thigh, he slams into you in a single, brutal thrust.

“Fuck—you’re so tight—” he groans, already moving, fucking into you like he means it. Like it’s punishment. Like it’s relief.

Your hands claw at the cushions, legs shaking around his hips, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Innie—Innie—I’m gonna—”

“No.”

He pulls out completely—you sob, your orgasm vanishing like smoke—then slams back in.

“You don’t fucking cum until I tell you.”

He’s soaked now, even more than before, more than dance practice made him, hair stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping onto your body, the sound of skin on skin obscene in the room. His cock drags perfectly against that sweet spot inside you, over and over—until you're right on the edge again.

“You close again?” he growls.

You nod, sobbing.

“Hold it.”

He fucks you through it anyway—deep, rough thrusts designed to undo you—but keeps you dangling just on that razor-thin edge.

And when you start to tremble, to break—he pulls out again.

You cry out, a broken noise, back arching. “Please—I’ll be good, I swear, I swear—”

He grabs your face. Kisses you hard. Spits into your mouth again.

“Not yet.”

You can’t stop crying. Not from pain, not from fear—just from need. You’re shaking, soaked, every part of your body screaming for release.

And Jeongin is still holding you right there. Just there.

Teasing thrusts. Barely in. Pulling out. Slapping the head of his cock against your pussy like he’s mocking you.

“Every time I stop,” he pants, voice shredded, “you clench so tight. Like your body’s begging even when your mouth can’t form the words.”

You whimper, unable to breathe around how full he feels—when he lets you have him. And when he doesn’t? That emptiness is worse than death.

“You want to cum that badly, baby?”

You nod, broken. “Please, Innie, I can’t—I c-can’t—”

“Shhh,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your lip. “You can.”

And then—he spits into your mouth again.

“Swallow.”

You do. Reflex, reverence. His spit tastes like sweat and salt and sin. And Jeongin loses it. He slams into you. No warning. No restraint. Just full, deep, filthy thrusts—hips smacking hard against your ass, cock dragging against that sweet spot with unrelenting precision.

Your back arches. Your scream catches in your throat. Your orgasm hits like a fucking bomb.

He doesn’t stop.

“Cumming baby?” he growls, watching you fall apart. “Didn't tell you to, but I'm going to be nice, so fucking take this cock, yeah?”

You’re cumming so hard it hurts, body locked in a seizure of pleasure, clenching down on him like a vice.

Jeongin grunts in pleasure, too much pleasure, your cunt squeezing his cock perfectly. The perfect fit. “God—fuck—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—”

But he keeps going. Fucking you through it, past it, until you're shaking so hard your legs give out. Until your tears smear across your cheeks and you’re begging—actually begging—for mercy.

“Innie, please—please—I c-can’t—”

“Yes, you fucking can.”

He pulls out just long enough to flip you—rough hands manhandling your limp form onto your stomach, ass up, face buried in the cushions.

He shoves back in. Deep. And you sob.

“You wanted this,” he pants, cock twitching inside you. “Wanted to get on your knees all pretty with spit on your chin and act like a little slut—”

He grabs your hair, tugs you up so your back arches.

“Now take it.”

You’re crying, mouth open, drooling, babbling nonsense as your second orgasm crashes down even harder.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarls into your ear. “Now stay right there while I fill you up.”

His thrusts go erratic. Desperate. He grits out your name—once, twice—then groans, deep and raw as he empties inside you, cock pulsing, hips twitching.

And he stays buried. Breathing hard. Sweaty chest pressed to your back. You’re limp. Soaked. Ruined. And then he kisses your shoulder. So soft. His hand rubs slow circles into your hip as you tremble, wrecked beyond words.

“Next time,” he murmurs, pulling out with a filthy squelch, “you’ll ask before you put my cock in your mouth. Yeah? Or maybe let me get in the shower first.”

A pause.

“Actually, we can do this in the shower next time.” Smiling, all innocent.

[axlenbear]

I think I’m addicted to the tittle “you and me”

Authors note— this took me a while to write because finals had been fucked up. Also. This chapter has a lot of bang Chan so.... Hope yall like it?

Summary-

Chris comes to save the day after seungmin makes you sad :/ I don't know how to summarize this

—part 1,

Warnings ⚠️- angst, smut, angst then smut, Kim seungmin/ reader, bang chan/reader, friends with benefits, public sex, unprotected sex (don't).

**this work is for adults audiences only, minors DNI!! **

4.1k words :)

Chapter two- escape from reality.

The next day you woke up, you immediately noticed the tears stained on your pillow. Last night was a nightmare, and the problem was– you had to see him today. You can’t just bail on the rest of your friend group… So you got up, washed up, and then left your apartment.

You shouldn't have come.

You knew from the second you walked into the restaurant and saw Seungmin sitting at the table with the rest of the group. His head was down, looking at his phone. But even then, you felt the way the air shifted the moment you approached.

Changbin was the first to notice you. “Oh! You made it,” He smiled, waving you over to sit on the seat between him and Seungmin, conveniently the only seat left. “You're late, we were starting to think you bailed on us.”

A forced smile spread across your face, sliding into the seat and feeling your knee brush against Seungmin’s. Sitting next to him felt wrong, he kept glancing at you– he was so obviously still mad.

“Oh, I just woke up a little late.” Which was partially true, but you failed to mention that you just sat in your car for a while, contemplating if you should go in or not.

“So, Seungmin’s been quiet today.” Jeongin spoke up, nudging sungmin's shoulder, making him slightly push into you. “Why so quiet seungmin?”

Seungmin’s eyes lifted from his phone, his eyes flicking from your face to Jeongin’s.

“I'm just… tired.” He said faintly. He seemed calm, but you weren't stupid. You could feel the tension between you and him.

“You both look like shit. At least act like you want to be here.” Felix blurted out. “We’re supposed to have fun! Lift your spirits.”

“Right.” you mumbled.

You stared down at your drink, looking at the reflection in the water. The table buzzed with conversation– almost everyone was talking about something. Except for you and seungmin. While everyone was loud, you and seungmin stayed in silence and didn't talk to each other. All you could feel was Seungmin’s presence. The cold glares he shot at you. He wasn't saying anything.

You started to think about last night. Feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. The way he cut you off so coldly when you let too much slip. The way your chest still felt heavy with god knows what.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you muttered, wiping off the tears from the side of your face. And no one stopped to look at you, except Seungmin.

“Do you need help finding it?” Seungmin asked, looking directly into your eyes.

“Uhm, sure.” And so he followed you into the bathroom, closing and immediately locking the door once you were in there with him.

“What?” you mumbled, walking to the sink and splashing your face with water.

Seungmin stayed by the door and sighed. “Hey.”

He walked closer to you. “What do you want, seungmin?”

“I just…” His breath was shaky. “We should talk.”

You laughed bitterly. “Now you want to talk?”

His eyes darkened. “Come here.”

“Seungmin—”

“Just for a second.” His voice was low, strained. The tension between you was suffocating. You could feel his breath, the warmth of his chest just inches from yours. His hand slid down to your palm, squeezing you.

“You left last night,” he murmured. “You hung up on me.”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“We could’ve talked… about this, about us.”

“No, I couldn't.”

Seungmin’s eyes darted on you, gaze hard and conflicted. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and your body reacted instinctively, leaning towards him and resting your head against him.

“This isn’t… this isn't something we should do.” you whispered against him.

“Maybe it should be…”

Your breath hitched. His hands slid up your jaw and made you look at him, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You were shaking in his arms.

“Minnie… “

He leaned in, his lips hovering over your lips, close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath.”Tell me to stop.”

But you couldn't. How could you ask him to stop?

So he kissed you. The kiss felt different, it was more needy and desperate than normal but at that moment, nothing else mattered. Only you and him, kissing each other with a need for more. His hands slipped to the hem of your shirt, pushing it up and grabbing your bare waist. His hands wandered all over your body, slipping up your back and making you pull closer to him.

“Minnie, we really shouldn’t.” You said against his lips, pulling back from him to stop the kiss.

“But I want it so bad… Let me make it up to you, sweetheart. Let me give you this, something with meaning instead of only lust.” His words stuck with you. Fuck. How could you say no to that? And so, your head pushed against his again, lips against lips and now with something underneath it. He wanted to give you this, and you wanted it to.

His lips started trailing down your neck, kissing you softly while his tongue escaped his lips and wet your neck. His hands then gripped onto your thighs and lifted you onto the counter. And before you could do anything, he kissed you again. He was hungry, desperate. His fingers dug into your skin, rolling his hips against yours.

“We have to be quiet,” you breathed between kisses, barely able to think straight as he pushed your legs apart and settled between them.

“Then don't make any noise.” he licked your bottom lip and sighed.

His hand slid down, fingers slipping beneath the waistline of your skirt and touched the dampness of your panties, making you gasp and grip onto his shoulders.

“Shit,” he mumbled, lips hovering over your jaw. “You're already so wet…”

You bit your lip, head tilting back as his fingers moved against you, slow and teasing. He knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how to manipulate your body into submission. And suddenly Seungmin’s patience snapped, so he tugged at his belt, pushing down his pants just enough to pull out his dick. His breath was heavy, forehead pressed against yours as he pushed your panties to the side and lined himself up with you.

“This is a bad idea,” he murmured, his tip rubbing against your folds.

“The worst.” you whispered.

And so he pushed in.

The slight burn that came with the stretch of him always made you moan, but this time you held it in, your fingers clawed into his back, teeth sinking into your lip to keep quiet. He groaned, muffling his sounds by kissing you, his hips rolling in slow, deep thrusts. Eventually, he started to go faster, kissing your neck and sucking on your lips.

It was rushed, messy, but it felt different– as if you both were trying to down each other, trying to restore the damage caused from the night before.

You clenched around him, his grip tightened on your waist. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, closing his eyes shut.

Your head fell against his shoulder, swallowing down the noises threatening to escape. He started growing rougher, more frantic, chasing a high neither of you should be indulging in.

Your nails dig back into his shoulders, the force of his thrusts taking away your breath with every movement. He was holding you, making sure you didn’t slip away from his touch.

The bathroom was silent except for the quiet, muffled sounds of ragged breaths and moans that managed to escape you, the occasional sound of skin against skin, and his name falling out of your lips in broken whisperers. You shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not now.

But he wasn’t stopping, and neither were you.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispers. “You’re so— fuck— I’m not going to last—“ his voice was strained, breaking between every thrust.

You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of his touch. The way his hands trailed every part of you, as if he was trying to memorize your body. Everything he was doing was so hot. He was putting his full focus on you.

His dick was curving up and repeatedly hitting your g-spot, making your body feel hot, too hot. He was hitting every single nerve inside of you, forcing tears to swell up in your eyes from the pure overstimulation he was giving you. You were about to cum until—

A knock was heard on the door.

Seungmin stopped, looked down at you and just stayed still inside you. Not pulling out, but not moving either.

“Seungmin? Are you in there? Seriously, where'd he go?”

Your stomach dropped.

It was Chris. Fuck.

Seungmin looked back at you and then shushed you. “Yeah, I'm here.”

“Are you ok in there? You kinda just disappeared after she did…” Fuck. They noticed.

Seungmin then looked back at you and slowly started to thrust into you again. The feeling made you yelp, but he quickly shushed you again. “Uh… yeah, I'm fine.” He said as if he wasn’t balls-deep inside you. Like he wasn’t pressing his thumb into your hip, watching you struggle to not make a sound.

He was fucking you. While Chris was right there.

Chris let out an exaggerated sigh. “I mean, take your time, but, like…” you could hear the amusement in his voice. “Please, hurry up.”

“I’ll be out soon.”

You wanted to die.

The moment the footsteps faded, you collapsed against Seungmin, your face was on fire.

“You’re the worst person ever….” You whispered.

Seungmin simply chuckled, still slowly, painfully, slowly thrusting inside of you. “But you like it right?”

“Hnn— fuck!” What are you doing! Ah—!” You yelped, moaning a bit too loudly.

He slapped his hand against your mouth, covering it and forcing you to swallow down the moan threatening to escape. Seungmins thrusts were restless, each movement dragging you closer to the edge. His hand gripped your waist, guiding you into each deep, controlled thrust, pushing you to places you didn’t expect.

You could feel the way his dick hit all your sensitive spots, hand covering your mouth while his other hand was still firmly placed on your waist. The overwhelming sensations and pleasure started to build up, manifesting in the form of tears that escaped your flushed face, tears of pure overstimulation.

You looked up at Seungmin, trying to get him to stop. But you could tell he was close. What was the point of stopping now? So he continued, chasing his own high by going faster. And that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore.

You bit down on his hand, closing your eyes and felt your pussy clench around seungmin, milking him dry, forcing him to spill inside you.

After a couple minutes of just sitting like that, in silence while you tried to catch your breath, seungmin pulled out and almost immediately put his clothes back on. Seungmin looked at you, then looked at himself through the reflection in the mirror. He knew this was wrong.

“We shouldn’t have done this. Let’s— let’s just… forget this ever happened.” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair, fixing himself up before leaving you in the bathroom. You stood there, still trying to process what had just happened. You had sex with Seungmin and he just… walked out.

You stayed in the bathroom for a bit longer, making sure you cleaned yourself up and at least looked presentable by the time you got back to the table. You fixed up your hair and tried your best to push down the thoughts crowding your mind. And so, you went back to the table.

You noticed the way Chris looked at you once you were back, he could tell something was off. You were still a bit flushed, your lips were still swollen and Seungmin… he just didn’t speak. He refused to even look at you. You could feel Chris’s gaze on you, the way that he paid attention to every minor detail.

And eventually, it was time to finally leave.

“Wait, I want to talk to you.” Chris said, chasing after you before you entered your car.

“Why? What's up, Chris?”

“Uh… I feel like this is better to discuss in private. Could I come over?” Your eyes widened. What did he want to talk about? Why did this have to be in private?

“Uhm, yeah sure.”

By the time you got to your apartment, you were scared. You and Chris sat at your couch, your finger tapping on your thigh trying to soothe your anxiety.

“You seemed off today at dinner. Is everything ok? I mean you don't have to tell me what's going on, but I just want to make sure you're fine.” He calmly said. Thing about Chris is, he always paid attention.

Chris sighed, running his hand through his hair before glancing at you again. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” he said, voice steady. “But if you do… no matter what it is, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Chris hesitated, then added, “and I don’t know if this is about Seungmin, but… it so clearly is.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. You turned to face him fully, wiping away the non-existent tears that kept wanting to come out. “Is it that obvious?”

Chris chuckled, “only to someone who pays attention.”

That made your chest twist. only to someone who pays attention. And Chris did. He always had. Maybe even more than you liked to admit. You always pretended not to notice the way his eyes lingered on you, how he noticed the little changes in your expressions, how he was always there when you needed him. You just needed to ask.

Your throat tightened. You looked away, rubbing your eyes. “God, it’s just— so fucking stupid.”

Chris didn’t push. He just waited. Waited for you.

Your fingers curled into your lap. “I— we’ve been doing this thing, I don’t even know what it is, what to call it… it’s not dating, it’s not nothing, it’s just…” you exhaled sharply. “It’s something. And last night, I— I let too much slip. I let myself feel. And he just— he just shut me down.”

Chris’s Jaw clenched. It was subtle, but you noticed it.

“He told me it was a mistake,” you went on, your voice starting to break. “That we should stop. And then today…” Your hands moved to your arms, holding yourself. “Today, he fucked me again. As if nothing ever happened.”

As if he didn’t leave me sobbing just the previous night— and he left. He left me there. Like I… like I was nothing.”

Then, “you’re not nothing.”

You dropped your hand from your mouth, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well. Sure feels like it.”

Chris shifted beside you, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you but stopped himself. “You know,” he murmured, “I don’t know everything that’s going on between you two. And I’m not trying to pick sides, but…” He exhaled through his nose, gaze flickering downward. “You deserve better than this.”

Your breath hitched.

Chris looked back up, his expression unreadable. “I don’t think Seungmin even realizes what he’s doing to you. But that doesn’t change the fact that it hurts you.” His voice was steady, but there was something behind it. You just couldn’t tell what.

You swallowed hard, letting the silence stretch between you before finally exhaling. “ I don't know how to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Going back to him.” the confession tasted awful in your mouth, thick with shame. “Every time I tell myself this is the last time, then he does something– something small, something stupid, like looking at me too long or saying my name in that voice, and it's like I forget every reason I should walk away.”

Chris stayed quiet, but his eyes softened. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

So you kept ranting. “It’s not even about the way he makes me feel when we’re together, while we’re fucking. It’s about how he makes me feel after.” Your breath caught in your throat. “Like— it all means nothing, like I don’t matter. And sure, that's what it’s supposed to be but— it’s starting to feel wrong, like I want more.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything you had said before. You had never admitted that out loud.

Chris exhaled sharply. “You don’t deserve that.”

“I know, but I just can't let go of him.” You mumbled, leaning against Chris. You could feel his heart beating. You could feel the way he breathed deeply while wrapping his arms around you to provide comfort.

“It's ok. You can tell me more if you want…” he looked away from you for a second and sighed. “And, I really don't want to get in the middle of this mess, but if you ever want or need anything from me. I'm happy to assist.”

Your breath stopped. Was he asking what you think he was asking…? “What do you mean, Chris?”

“I mean… I'm here. For whatever you need.” you looked up at him for a second, staring at his face. He was always a handsome dude, muscular, manly, pretty, this opportunity was almost too good to be true.

While you looked at him… you saw an escape. Someone to rely on. Someone who cared.

So before you could second guess yourself; you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. You pressed your lips against his, noticing the look on his face before you kissed him and started. You positioned yourself to straddle his lap, tilting your head to go deeper inside his mouth and simply kissed.

Chris was struggling to keep his composure, he could feel the way you sat directly on top of his dick, kissed him, and looked at him. It was so good. He hadn't expected this moment to be so good. He didn't expect the moment where he would finally kiss you, hold you, and love you to be this good. It was wrong to do it like this… but he knew that your heart was taken already. This was the best chance he had.

You felt yourself growing wetter by the second, there was nothing to hide anymore. He was there to please you. Only you.

His hands gripped your waist, holding you against him. He brought you closer to his chest and let out a sigh. Your body melted against him, it almost felt like you were two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. You could feel him getting hard, growing impatient.

And so, it was his turn. He moved his hands from your waist and onto your thighs, squeezing not-so-gently and then kissed you deeper. You could feel his tongue licking your lips and going into your mouth, using his tongue against yours as he shut his eyes and held you close. His hands didn't seem afraid to roam around since they kept finding themselves on your tits, squeezing and rubbing your nipples.

He eventually detached himself from your lips and then started to kiss your neck. You looked down at him and bit your lip. He was so… obsessed? He was kissing you as if he had never kissed someone before. It was messy, uncoordinated, but so good. His warm breath was sending sparks though your body, it all felt so good. At that moment– you forgot about Seungmin, you thought about Chris and the way he was making you feel.

Good.

Wanted.

Taken care of.

You couldn't help but want more.

Your hips rocked forward– just slightly– and he groaned into your skin. That soft, needy sound lit something inside you. It made your stomach flip, made your fingers clutch the back of his neck like you needed to steady yourself.

Chris pulled back to look at you. His lips were swollen, eyes dark. And then he whispered, his voice strained. “You don't have to hold back with me.”

You didn't even realize you were holding back. But the second he said it, something inside you snapped. You leaned in and kissed him harder, somehow even more desperate than before. Your hands slipped up and under his shirt, feeling the way his chest tensed against you. Then you tugged up to take off his shirt, he let you. You got hit with the view of his chest, his abs– and fuck, you could just tell it was going to be good.

His hands found themselves back to your waist, and he mirrored your previous actions. He slipped his hands under your shirt and felt you under it. He squeezed and then he took off your shirt. He stared at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world, as if your body was perfect. He moved his head down to kiss your neck, your collarbone and then your shoulders. He couldn't resist it. He wanted to worship your body, to make you feel like you're the only woman in the world.

He moved his hands to your back and unclasped your bra. Then he scooped up one of your breasts in his hand and kissed it. He kisses, sucks and teases your nipples with his tongue. He couldn't help but to love it.

“You're so pretty,” he kissed you, “fucking gorgeous.” The way he was treating you was… so hot. He was praising your body in such a nice way, you could just feel your panties sticking to you.

He breathed heavily after sucking your tits. His breathing was unsteady but the look in his eyes told you he wanted– needed– more. His hands made their way to your waist and he moved you to lay down on the soft cushion under you. Your shorts were still on but underneath there was a wet mess.

“Hm… Chris…” you looked at him, who was seemingly still admiring you.

“Should I just do whatever is in my mind?” He mumbles.

“Sure Chris, surprise me…”

He kneeled over you, and started to kiss you. He kissed your lips, your neck, your breasts, your stomach, and then finally made his way down to your waist. He unbuttoned your shorts and then pulled them down and off of you. He immediately eyed the wet spot on your panties, but he didn't say anything. Not yet at least.

His head leaned down to your thighs. He kissed your inner thighs and pushed apart your legs with his hands. You were already shaking from how he was kissing you, if he did that–

He planted a kiss over your panties. He then licked up at them and you could feel his tongue brushing against your clit. He was gonna eat you out. It had been so long since someone has done that…

Your own breathing grew uneven the moment he did that. You bit your lip and looked down at him. Fuck

He looked so concentrated between your legs… as if he'd been waiting to do this, to show you he could satisfy you. His ears were flushed red, his face was also a bright pink. And when he looked up from your still-clothed pussy and into your eyes– the look in his eyes was unlike anything you'd seen before.

He was there for you. He was there to make you feel good.

So then why did he look at you like that? Like this… this was more than just a hookup? Oh well, who cares.

His hands gripped your thighs as he continued to tease, eating you out though that stupidly thin layer of fabric. Then, he pushed it aside and actually ate you out.

His movements were so precise. He first went to kiss and suck on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance as he only pushed in the tips and slid them in and out. The way his tongue circled your clit– slow, deliberate– had your back arching off the couch.

“Fuck…” you gasped, your fingers weaving into his hair without even thinking. He groaned when you pulled, and that vibration against you made your thighs clamp around his head.

But Chris didn't mind, he loved it.

His fingers started to go deeper, curling them just right while his tongue worked on you like it was second nature. Like he already knew your body. Your hips started rolling towards his mouth without even realizing it– he was effortlessly pulling you into a high.

And he looked up at you again. Mid-lick. His eyes were half-lidded, blown wide with lust and something else. Admiration? Devotion? You didn't know, and ultimately– it didn't matter. Cause’ his mouth felt like heaven right now.

Eventually, your legs started to tremble. The overbearing feeling of your climax creeping up on you as his hands grabbed onto your thighs— as if he was trying to ground himself when you were the one receiving.

“Cum for me please…” He whispered, still right in between your thighs, his voice thick with admiration. “I can feel you tensing.”

And then he went back in, closing the space between your pussy and his mouth— devouring you with his tongue, as if he never wanted to stop.

You knew it was wrong for you to use him like that, but he knew that. But he stayed.

And when you came, it hit hard—like waves crashing into you all at once. Your breath caught in your throat as the pressure in your core finally snapped. You bit down on your lip, shaking, unraveling completely in his hands. He held you through it, fingers and tongue never relenting, pressing into you like he wanted to feel your pleasure spill out.

When you sat up to look at him, you saw his face completely soaked, along with the cushions under you. Wait— did you…

“That was amazing… you did so good— I… I don’t know what to say.” He muttered, finally raising his head up from between your legs and licking off you essence from his lips.

“Let me get you a towel… sorry, uhm. I didn’t realize I was going to… well, squirt.” You whispered, completely embarrassed after realizing what you did.

You stood up and with wobbly legs made your way to the bathroom to get the towel. While you were in the bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked absolutely wrecked. Your face was all flushed, your hair was a complete mess, you looked dazed… Chris did that? The dude who you always thought was just teasing, had ruined you.

When you made your way back to the living room and saw him on the couch you handed him the towel and put one down on the couch before sitting down and letting an awkward tension rise into the air.

Your body still tingled from the places where he had held you. You licked your lips and felt them get wet, and then looked back up at Chris who was already staring at you.

“Do you want more? I’m happy to help.” He asked, moving one of his hands to your thighs which made you shiver.

“No thank you, channie. But if you want… you can spend the night? It’s late, and we can share the bed if you don’t mind.” You said, even though you did want more.

He blinked, like he hadn’t expected that. “Oh—uhm, yeah. That’s fine.” He smiled, though there was the faintest flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “You don’t mind if I use your shower, right? You kind of made a mess on me.” His smirk broke the tension, and you couldn’t help but smile too.

“Of course! Make yourself at home.”

Later, after you’d both cleaned up, you found yourself tucked into bed, your muscles still relaxed, your body humming with a quiet warmth. Was this what it was supposed to feel like—with someone who actually saw you?

And then Chris entered the room in clean clothes, his damp hair curling slightly as he slipped into the bed beside you. He offered you a soft smile before turning on his side and closing his eyes.

No pressure. No expectations.

Just him, choosing to stay.

[axlenbear]

My man, my man….

dominATE in Peru (250409) / @ Lunatik

[axlenbear]

Authors note- Again. I’m still getting used to tumblr so. The format IS weird. Please tell me if I need to add tagsssss. Oh and. This is a bit of a change of pace for me (and challenge) since this is my first CHAPTER FIC. And it’s also… well, Angsty? I guess.

Summary-

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone on the mattress next to you as you took deep, heavy breaths. Your chest felt heavy, as if you had incredibly fucked up. Your breathing turned shaky, breath getting caught in your throat as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

And then, you heard your ringtone.

Seungmin

Or— a friends with benefits but feelings started to get involved.

—

**this work is for adult audiences only, minors DNI!!**

Tags (?)- friends with benefits, angst, slow burn, unspoken feelings, smut (eventually), VERY sad mc.

Warnings - mild smut, and cussing. Idk if that counts

1.7k words, cross posted on ao3 (eventually)

I think I’m addicted to the title “you and me”

Chapter one - Lines we cross.

You should’ve left. It was an unspoken rule with this arrangement, you did what you had to do and left. But instead you were relaxed against his bed, allowing the room to fill with the buzz of his fan and still naked in his sheets.

Seungmin layed next to you, looking up at the ceiling and occasionally looking back at you. The sound of his breathing making you feel a weird mix or unsteady and comfort. Neither of you said anything since you’d finished— but this felt nice. That was a feeling that you needed gone.

You shifted slightly, pulling the sheets to cover your body. You looked over at Seungmin, his body glowing with the glistening sweat and the dim lamp in the corner of the room. Why was it always like this? From the first time you and him had sex, the feeling after of the quiet intimacy that shouldn’t exist… it made you uncomfortable. Like you were walking very close to a line neither of you were willing to cross.

“So…” you finally broke the silence.

He looked over at you, his full attention on you from the moment you muttered a word.”Yeah?”

“We should probably stick to the rules… right?” You mumbled, looking at him.

He pressed his lips together and then sighed, looking back up at the ceiling as if he wanted to call off the conversation. He didn’t immediately respond, obviously. So when he did, his voice was low and almost reluctant. “Right. Yeah, probably.”

Seungmins hand twitched besides him, but he simply gripped the sheets and sighed. You both knew the rules— no attachments, no feelings, it’s all physical. Yet somehow, that line always seemed to blur when you were together like this. When you were together, basking in the aftermath or sex, it always felt like you could have more. But neither of you dared to admit that.

“Right.” You muttered, almost wanting him to ask you for more.

“I should leave.” You said, staring to sit up.

Seungmins eyes followed your body as you moved, but he did nothing to stop you. “You should but if you want to stay—”

“No thanks Minnie,” You smiled faintly, even though your chest felt heavy. “using your apartment was more than enough.”

You couldn’t dare to look at him as you gathered your clothes. You didn’t want to see the expression on his face— whether it was disappointment or relief— cause honestly… you weren’t sure which was worse.

Eventually, you said your final goodbyes and left his apartment. You felt so empty while walking down the hall, you felt off without him. This feeling never followed you home… So why now? Why was it making your chest ache as if a part of you was missing?

When you got home, the first thing you did was lay in bed and take your clothes back off, then immediately called Seungmin. He picked up instantly.

“Seungmin, I’m sorry to bother but… I’m still feeling—“

“Really? You couldn’t even look at me earlier… and now you want to touch yourself with me?” He interrupted, making you listen to the irony in your actions.

“Minnie, don’t be like that… just help me out here, I feel horny.”

Seungmin sighed from the other end of the line. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but he didn’t hang up.

“And you don’t have to stay on the phone… Yet, here you are.” you teased, shifting on the bed as you hand made its way down your stomach. “I can always handle myself.”

“Oh really?” His voice was quiet, but flirty. “Go ahead then, leave the call, make yourself cum.

You hesitated. “I don’t want to.”

“Didn’t think you would.” You could just picture the smirk that grew on his face.

“Seungmin… please… help me.” You whined.

Seungmin sighed again, but this time it sounded more like resignation than annoyance. Like he hated that he couldn’t say no to you.

“What are you wearing?” His voice had dropped, and you could hear the shift in his breathing.

“Nothing,” you whispered, your hand slipping between your thighs. “I took everything off.”

“Of course you did. Did I not give you enough?” There was a quiet sound on his end—maybe the rustle of his sheets, maybe his hand moving. You wished you could see him, wished you were still with him.

“I mean… I could’ve gone for a round two…”

“You could’ve asked.” He said, then you both grew quiet for a second.

“It doesn’t matter right now Minnie. What are you wearing?”

“Just my boxers… didn’t think I would need clothes.” You gently rubbed your clit as he talked, bitting down on your lip when he said how much clothes he had on.

“Fuck, I wish you were here…” You both got quiet again. But only for a second.

“I wish I was too… wanna see you squirm for me again,” he mumbled. Then you heard him spit on his hand, he was going to jerk off with you. “Touch yourself for me, sweetheart. And tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“I want you to touch yourself too…”

“I am, just tell me… are you thinking of me? Thinking of the way I fuck you and leave you breathless?”

“Hnn… well, that and the way you look at me. You’re so sweet Minnie… makes every part of the sex better.” Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.

The call got quiet again, but then Seungmin spoke again. “Is that so? Tell me more,”

“I guess… just our friendship, we’re friends you know? Sometimes I just think about your smile— you’re very pretty Minnie.” Fuck. That’s worse. Being horny was no excuse for being stupid, what are you doing?!

You heard his breath hitch. You pulled your hand away from your clit. “Sorry, that— I didn’t mean to say that…”

“No, no, tell me more. Do you really just think about me, my smile?” His voice sounded more careful now.

“Minnie, we can’t talk like this… you know our agreement, right?”

“Then let’s talk like friends.”

“I— Seungmin, no. I’m sorry for bothering you. Good night.” You hung up on him. Why did you do that.

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone on the mattress next to you as you took deep, heavy breaths. Your chest felt heavy, as if you had incredibly fucked up. Your breathing turned shaky, breath getting caught in your throat as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

And then, you heard your ringtone.

Seungmin.

You stared at the screen, hands shaky as you picked it up and stared at the screen. He never called you back— so why now? When you can’t even keep yourself from losing it?

You took too long to answer, so he called again. You knew you shouldn’t but… you did.

You picked up.

“What?” You whispered, voice shaky.

Seungmin’s breath was sharp on the other end. “That’s it?” His voice was tight. Fuck, what had you done.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. You couldn’t bring out the words.

“So, you start running your mouth about my smile— Tell me that I make the sex better by being sweet, you admit to just… thinking about me, and you hang up?” His voice was low, angry. “You really think I’m just going to let that go?”

“I— Minnie—“

“You fucked up,” he cut you off. “And now, you’re just gonna sit there, all half assed and pretend you don’t mean it?”

You swallowed, fingers gripping into your legs as you heard him lecturing you about your stupidity.

“I didn’t—“

“Bullshit.” He wasn’t letting you hide this time. “You think I don’t notice the way you look at me after we fuck? Or how you stay a little longer each time, like you’re waiting for something?” He breathed out, sharp and low. “You really think I don’t see it?”

Your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the tears welling up. “Seungmin, stop—“

“No, you’re the one that blabbered about me, now you suffer your consequences.”

Tears started to fall down your cheeks as your breathing grew heavier, louder.

“You don’t have the right to act like this is nothing when you clearly want more,” he said. His voice was low and bitter. “So tell me—what do you want from me?”

“N-Nothing, I don’t want anything. W-were friends…” you were desperately trying to keep the tears from flowing out, desperately trying to steady your voice to not make it obvious that you’re crying. But your emotions got the best of you, sobs left your mouth every time you spoke.

He paused, his breath heavy from the other end.

“Yeah? Then don’t call me next time.” His voice was cold.

The line went dead.

You sat there, phone in hand, your whole body shaking. The sockets of your eyes burned. You hated the way your chest burned, the way you so desperately wanted to call him back.

But instead, tears fell down your face. One after another.

You sucked in a shaky breath and curled in on yourself, knees to your chest as the first sob ripped through your throat. Your chest felt like it was caving in, a heavy ache spreading under your ribs as the tears came faster, harder. You pressed your hand over your mouth, trying to silence the ragged, gasping sounds you were making, but it didn’t work—nothing worked.

You hated yourself for crying over this. Over him. But you couldn’t stop.

Another sob tore through you, and you gasped, clutching the fabric of your hoodie like it might ground you. Your whole body was shaking now, your face wet with tears as you choked on a breath.

Why did it feel like you’d just lost something? Why did it feel like this was worse than just sex?

You shouldn’t care this much. You shouldn’t feel this much.

But the ache in your chest said otherwise.

You eventually pulled yourself under the covers, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to steady yourself—but all you could hear was his voice. That cold finality when he said, Don’t call me next time.

And you hated how much it hurt.

[axlenbear]

I’m still getting used to posting on tumblr ausjsksj. Don’t mind if the format is weird… also just posting fics in general. Pls tell me if there’s a need for any more warnings or tags :)

— summary

“Minho,” you whispered. “Go to the backseat with me.”

His eyes widened. Then a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. “Are you asking me to do what I think you’re asking me?”

“Yes, I am… are you going to let me? I’ll help clean the mess… if you let me make one.”

“Fuck. Alright… but you know, if we do this… I'm not sure if we well be able to be only friends anymore…”

“Yes or no? Tell me before I change my mind.”

“Yes. God, I've been waiting for you to take me seriously.”

—

Or you crossed a line with him but you end up liking the result :)

**this work is for adult audiences. Minors DNI!!**

Tags(?): friends to lovers, fluff and smut, mutual feelings, happy ending.

Warnings: smut, overstimulation, fingering, car sex.

3.2k words, cross posted on ao3!

I’ve seen this scene a lot in my dreams

You had always known that what you had with Minho was special. Your friendship with him was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You weren’t sure when it started to feel different — maybe it was the way he softened around you when he was so cold with everyone else. It was subtle at first, but you liked it. Maybe you liked the special treatment he gave you, maybe that’s why your small crush on him started growing into something more.

It got worse when he started joking about dating you. His teasing always left you flustered — talking about how you’d look good beneath him or how you’d probably sound if he ever got you alone. You laughed it off because that’s just how Minho was… right? He was playful with everyone, so it couldn’t mean anything. But then why did your mind wander to him when you were alone at night? Why did you hear his voice in your head when your hand slipped between your legs? It didn’t mean anything. He was just a friend.

At least, that’s what you liked to tell yourself.

So when Minho invited you over for a movie night at his place, you didn’t think much of it. It was a movie you were both excited about, and you almost immediately agreed. But on the drive to his apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Why was it only the two of you? Why did he insist on buying your favorite soju? Was this just how normal friends hung out?

“Are you alright?” he asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat.

The way his hand rested lazily on the steering wheel with one hand made your stomach twist. Why was that attractive? “I’m fine,” you said quickly. “Just… thinking. Don’t worry about me, baby.”

You always called him that — a harmless nickname. But why did it suddenly feel different leaving your mouth? His eyes flicked toward you at the word, his expression unreadable.

“Your face says otherwise,” he pushed, stopping at a red light and turning toward you. His gaze pinned you in place. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” You swallowed, looking away. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“I don’t believe you.” His hand slid to your thigh, squeezing gently. The warmth of his palm through your shorts made you stiffen. “We’re close enough, you can tell me anything.”

You felt your thighs press together. His hand moved slightly higher. Your breath hitched. What was he doing?” “I swear it’s nothing,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m just… lost in thought, I guess.”

Minho’s hand stilled, but his eyes darkened as he watched you squeeze your thighs together. His hand lingered, grazing just under the hem of your shorts.

“There’s really nothing that can get it out of you?” he murmured, turning his attention back to the road as the light flashed green. The way his hand stayed on your thigh made the heat pool low in your stomach. You hated how much your body reacted to him. You were already wet, and the worst part was… you were pretty sure he knew. You know that you are easy to read.

You grabbed his hand and pulled it off you, trying to breathe normally. He chuckled, resting his hand on his own thigh instead. “You know…” he said after a pause. “I always thought you were interesting.”

Your head turned toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I never understood why you didn’t take me seriously,” he said casually. “I almost gave up on you. But now I’m curious about something.”

“What?”

“Are you wet?” You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple question,” he said, smirking. “You’ve been acting weird. You think I didn’t notice how you reacted when I touched you?”
You stared at him, mortified. He wasn’t even looking at you — eyes fixed calmly on the road as if he’d just asked you about the weather.

“I—I don’t know how to answer that,” you stammered.

“Come on, baby. Be honest.”

You squeezed your legs together even tighter, but the growing ache between them wasn’t going anywhere. “I am,” you whispered.

His head turned toward you, eyes dark yet confused. “You are?”

“I’m wet,” you admitted, your face burning.

He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “You wanted to know,” you added, your tone defensive. Minho’s tongue brushed his lower lip. “Is it because of someone? Or just a random thought?”

You hesitated. “There’s… this guy. He’s been crowding my mind lately.”

“Someone I know?” His voice was low.

“Pretty well.”

His brow lifted. “Jisung?”

“No.”

“Chris?”

“Nope.”

“Then who—”

“It’s you,” you said before you could stop yourself.

The car slowed as he pulled into his apartment’s parking lot. He parked but didn’t move. His eyes were burning into you.
“You’re serious?”

You nodded, heart hammering in your chest.

Minho leaned closer, his hand brushing your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” Your breath hitched as his thumb traced your jaw. The tension between you was unbearable. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Minho,” you whispered. “Go to the backseat with me.”

His eyes widened. Then a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. “Are you asking me to do what I think you’re asking me?”

“Yes, I am… are you going to let me? I’ll help clean the mess… if you let me make one.”

“Fuck. Alright… but you know, if we do this… I'm not sure if we well be able to be only friends anymore…”

“Yes or no? Tell me before I change my mind.”

“Yes. God, I've been waiting for you to to take me seriously.” He said as he left the car, and made his way to the back seat. You started to move over to the backseat, shifting your body to be with him. It was unbelievable, you were doing this with one of your friends. What happened to having morals– but with a face, body, and personality like that… most people would also forget.

He extended his hand and helped you into the car. Allowing you to hold him by the hand and then pulling you into the backseat of his car. You tumbled onto the seat and fell on top of him, quickly laughing with each other before you sat on his lap and settled onto him, noticing that he was already hard.

“I don't think you understand how badly I've wanted this…” His hands settled onto your waist, holding you down onto his lap before you tried anything.

“Maybe I’d like to know, you assume a lot Minho.” Your hands made their way up his chest, gently squeezing him. He has such a nice chest. His chest was so firm, yet in a way squishy. His body felt so good under you, thighs firm and big. A perfect starting point. You settled yourself onto one of his thighs, feeling the slight spread of your legs once you sat.

“Do you really want to know? Do you honestly want to know how bad I've wanted you like this?” His tongue went down to his lip, hypnotizing you as he grabbed your waist.

“Tell me”

“It's better if I show you, right?” He moved his hands down your waist, grabbing you by the ass to make you grind on him. You felt the friction on your clit and let out a moan. He was guiding you to your pleasure, and before you knew it you were grinding on him, making your panties be an absolute mess. Fuck, his thigh felt amazing. “Don't you want to take off those shorts? I wanna see how wet you are, baby.”

You hurried to take off your shorts, looking down to see the fact that you were dripping. The dark spot on your panties made him smirk. “I didn't realize that you got this worked up, baby. You know you could’ve told me before… I would've happily helped.” His fingers made their way to your panties, making the fabric stick to your folds with a wet and lewd sound.

“Why would I tell you? We’re only friends…”

“Do you get this wet for all of your friends? Or am I in a special situation?” His face moves closer towards you, kissing your ear and breathing in your scent. “Do all of your friends let you dry-hump them?”

“Well… no, but– that's not the point you know…” you mumbled, holding yourself against his chest.

“Cute.” He kissed your forehead, his fingers moved your panties and touched your clit, not pressing too hard but moving his fingers in a circular motion. His touch on your clit was so good, you had never felt it be this good.

A moan escaped your lips as he touched you. His lips moving towards yours and quickly capturing you in a kiss. His tongue digging into your mouth, fighting for dominance which you quickly surrendered to. He continued to touch you and you continued to moan, moaning into his mouth. He seemed to be chasing your high but when you were almost there he changed the touch on your clit, he wasn't chasing it for you, this was only to tease. You broke away from the kiss and started to catch your breath.

“Please… I just want you to fuck me.” You whined. You sounded desperate, and you could tell that he liked it as his smile only grew larger and he took his hand off you.

“Is that so…” He moved his hand down to his crotch, tugging down those god forsaken grey sweatpants, teasing you by showing off the waistband of his underwear. The flash of his underwear made you do something that you might regret. You moved away his hands and pulled down the sweatpants, looking up at him with needy eyes. “If that's what you want, then… ride me.”

There was no restraint on your side, you sat on him again and now started to grind against his clothed cock with your pussy. He was unbelievably hard. His hands gripped your waist, feeling the way that your body moved against him. “Minho… fuck, youre amazing.” His face was so pretty, fucked out and flushed red.

“Ah… you’re unbelievable,” He growled, a low and rough voice forming on his lips. His hands tightened on your waist, guiding your movements. The friction was overwhelming, heat pooled between your legs which only grew hotter with every roll of your hips.

“Maybe I am…” you teased, breathless as your hands trailed his chest. You could feel how tense he was, the way his muscles flexed under your touch. “Then… do something about it. I want to see what you can do.”

“Careful what you wish for, 'cause you might just get it…” Before you could make some sassy comeback, he grabbed you and flipped you onto your back. The soft cushion of his car seats hit your head as he prompted himself between your legs in the very limited space. He knelt his face down and took his chance to smell you through the fabric, which he quickly grew frustrated with.

“Please baby, can I?”

“You’re asking now? Really, you're already all up between my legs…” You moved your body to sit against the tinted windows. Moving him with you as you pressed your thighs together, which made you have a hold of him. The feeling of his breath against your core was making your heart race.

Minho smirked, looking up between your thighs as he spread them apart with kisses. “I’m being polite. But if you want me to stop…” he traced his fingers against the slick of your panties, outlining your folds, again.”

“Fuck… look at you. You’re soaked. I just want to suck on that pretty pussy…” he whispered, eyes locking with yours as he pushed your panties to the side, getting a real glance at your dripping wetness. “This wet from a kiss? Or did you step into my car thinking dirty?”

“A little bit of both,”

“You’re such a tease…. But I love it.” He said as he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your clit before he leaned in and used his tongue on you.

“Minho…” you whined, hands gripping onto his hair as you subconsciously pulled him closer.

“Patience, baby,” he smirked against your skin. Moving his focus to eating you out. His tongue spread your wetness around, flicking your clit and sucking on your hole.

“Fuck— oh my god—“

“That’s it…” his voice was low, rough, almost a growl, as he wrapped his arms against your trembling thighs. Holding you into place as he continued to overstimulate your clit, sucking, licking, and picking up the pace when he noticed you were close.

Your hand tightened in his hair as he brought you to the edge, moans and his name spilling your of your lips as if you begged for more. “Lee know— i'm going to—“

“Come for me baby… I wanna see your fucked out face as you do….”

So you did, you listened to his commands and came. Your back arched as the tension snapped inside of you. Waves of pleasure crashing over you as he helped you though it. His mouth didn’t stop— working you though your high, drinking you as if he couldn’t get enough.

When Minho finally pulled back, his lips were a glistening mess. He looked up at you, eyes dark as he licked off the glisten off his lips. “God… you taste so good…

“Minho…” you whimpered, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.

“Shh… I’m not done with you yet.” He smirked, his hands trailing higher until they reached the hem of your shirt. Without waiting for permission, he pulled it over your head, leaving you in your bra. His eyes darkened at the sight of you—lips parting slightly as he took you in.

“You’re so beautiful… I can’t believe that I finally get the chance to have you like this…” his voice was soft and low. He moved his hands up your stomach and kissed your lips. The kiss was slow, intimate but it made you wet all over again. His hands moved to your back to unclasp your bra, which was quickly thrown on the floor. You were now completely bare in front of him.

“So pretty baby…” he hummed against your neck before softly kissing down your chest until he reached your breasts. He kissed, sucked on, and played with your nipples. He moaned against your skin, leaving your chest with a ‘plop’.

“You’re so sensitive… I could play with you all day.” His voice was rough as his hand drifted lower, fingers sliding between your legs again. He traced slow, lazy circles around your swollen clit, smirking when you bucked your hips into his hand.

“Please…” you whispered, legs trembling from your previous orgasm.

“Please what, baby?” He teased, his mouth making its way back up your neck. He bit down gently, making you squirm from his touch.

“Minho… I need you.”

“Oh, you need me?” He chuckled darkly, slipping a finger inside you and curling it just right. Your back arched off the seat as he added a second finger, thrusting slowly but deeply. “Say it. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Ah… Ngh… all I need is you inside me… please Minho, I want you inside…”

“Fuck… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he pulled back, his eyes met yours before he pulled down his boxers and let his pretty cock spring free. He was dripping pre-cum, a pretty flushed color. And well… he was big. Fuck, he was big.

He moved his hand onto his dick and held it at the base for you to see, using his other hand to find a condom in the seat back pocket. “I’ve waited so long… fantasized about you like this… a mess because of me… You sure you can take me, baby?”

He opened the condom with his teeth, quickly putting on himself as he waited for an answer. “Yes, Minho please… please ruin me.”

Without another word, he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed himself into you without a second thought. The stretch of him making you gasp, as he filled you inch by inch. A exasperated moan escaped his lips as he felt himself bottoming out, his hands moving up to your waist, pulling you close to him.

“You’re so fucking tight, fuck….” He stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust. His hands moved up your back eventually reaching your face, his thumb traced your cheek before he leaned down to kiss you. His hips started to slowly move, the kiss leaving you breathless as the feeling of him overwhelmed you.

“That’s it, baby… take it, you’re doing good.” He hummed against your lips, slowly picking up the pace which caused the sound of skin slapping against each other echo in the car.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as the waves of pleasure washed over you. He traced his hand down your body until his fingers could play with your clit, overstimulating you till you couldn’t feel anything but pleasure.

“Fuck… you feel so good… so good, baby.” He growled, his breath hot against your neck. “Gonna make you cum again, I need to feel you squeeze me…”

He knew you were close. You were trembling in his arms, tears were escaping the corners of your eyes, as he drove into you harder, rougher, chasing his own high as he pushed you over the edge.

It was amazing what he could do in a car.

“Ngh… Minho— I’m—“

“Do it for me baby,”

So again, you listened. You let yourself go. You’re whole body tightened around him as your orgasm crashed through. Minho followed with shaky breaths and a low, broken moan, his grip on you tightening as he gripped and sat you on top of him again.

For a moment, only the sound of heavy breathing filled the car. Minho’s hands stayed on your waist as you both tried to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

You nodded, your head resting against his shoulder. “Yeah… better than okay.”

He chuckled, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Good.”

After a minute, you slid off him, wincing at the emptiness that followed. He helped you adjust your clothes, his hands lingering a little longer than necessary on your bare skin.

As you settled back into the front seat, he leaned over and kissed you again — slower this time. Less desperate, more… tender.

“So,” he murmured against your lips. “Still think we’re just friends?”

You smiled, fingers brushing his jaw. “What do you think?”

Minho’s eyes darkened. “I think we should’ve stopped pretending a long time ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am… sweetheart, I’ve loved you for years. I’m just glad we had the chance to do this, because I’m not going anywhere.”

As his hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him once more, you realized there was no going back. Whatever line you’d crossed tonight — you weren’t about to regret it.

[axlenbear]

nom nom nom 💪

[axlenbear]

© xiaoyuOuO | do not edit and/or crop logo

[axlenbear]

SEUNGMIN – ‘ULTRA’ @ SKZ 5’CLOCK FANMEETING (250215)

[axlenbear]

'RAILWAY' (HAN VER.) 250214 | © pomelo_0914.

[axlenbear]

Fellow bubble users… is this a direct response or am I taking this too seriously 😭😭 he’s so funny I CANT LOL

[axlenbear]

Me too girl. I’ve been saying this 😩😩

idc how many times I see “han is so MSUB” I would happily scream ‘daddy’ for him and beg him to corrupt me for anyone else, leave me broken and have his way with me.

what. he. says. goes.

[axlenbear]

I didn’t know how to make it look good. I don’t use tumblr that much…

Summary-

——

"Y/N… I need to finish this—can't you wait…?" He mumbles, a soft sigh escaping his lips, attempting to maintain his composure despite him gripping the seat to keep himself in that chair. So many weeks with him keeping all of his thoughts to himself, and even now he tries to hide it, how much he needs release from it all. He had to admit he was flustered, so desperately needy for your touch. But he had to finish this. It was important. Nothing could distract him now, not even you.

When you hear this, your eyes widen in shock. You guess he wasn't going to give in as easily as you thought. “No, that can wait, I cannot– I need you now.”

—

Or, he’s overworked, and your underfucked :)

*** this work is for adult audiences. Minors DNI ***

Warnings: smut, Overstimulation, Vaginal Fingering, unprotected sex (don’t), Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Minimal use of Y/N

3.9k words, - cross posted on ao3 :,)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63023806/chapters/161404672

I need you closer

It had been so long since you'd last seen him like that, a mess, whimpering under you with tears in his eyes as he begged—and oh, you missed it. He is always busy now, working on some new album for his group. It made you sad to see him worn out like that, seeing that shine in his pretty eyes slowly get numbed away over time as the pressure overwhelmed him. It was like its own special torture that he couldn’t help but dive deeper into. It killed you to see him like that, and you were growing needy for him, to help relieve some of the pressure that’s been building up inside him.

As the days passed, you felt more hopeless of doing anything with him since he wouldn't get off his damned computer. Days turned to weeks, and those weeks being pent up with so many feelings turned you crazy, you simply couldn't take it anymore. He’s your husband. He should be taking care of you, loving you, letting you rule his life. So, if he wasn't going to do anything, then you might as well try.

You spent the whole day cleaning and making his favorite food. That night, when he got home from practice, he immediately sat at the dinner table with his computer, opening a file to edit something for a bit longer before he notices the scent of his favorite dish.

“What did you make for dinner?” He asks as he finally looked at you for the first time today.

“Oh, nothing much, but there's dessert too. I don't mind whichever you have first.” You say as you placed a piece of cheesecake and a spoon in front of him.

“You made cheesecake? Are you trying to bribe me?” He teases as he uses the spoon to scoop up a small bite before lifting it to his mouth to eat.

“Did I say that out loud or what? Sheesh, it's kind of scary how fast you read me.”

“No, it just seems like something you’d do. And since that’s what's happening… What is it exactly that you want from me?” He questions, his eyebrow raising a tiny bit as he watched you curiously.

“Well, if you really want to know… I planned to have you under me tonight. I know that you’ve been so busy lately so I thought that I should help you out, let me do all of the work, I know how to push your buttons…” You toy, looking into his eyes to see his reaction. Once you say that, you see blush form brightly on his cheeks and ears. You won, or that's what you thought.

“I—I hate to break it to you, but I'm not done with this song. I haven't even pitched the idea yet—”

“Shhh… I don’t need you to help, I need you to listen. So be good for me and try to stay quiet.” You whisper, hearing his breath hitch. He always submitted to you so easily.

“What do you think? Are you going to let yourself go tonight?” You hum, loving the way that he looked up at you, trying to resist you can see the struggle in his eyes. Jisung's eyes widen in surprise, his breathing becoming heavier as he gazes up at you with a mix of anticipation and desire. You could feel the tension between you both, the air thick with unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

"Y/N… I need to finish this—can't you wait…?" He mumbles, a soft sigh escaping his lips, attempting to maintain his composure despite him gripping the seat to keep himself in that chair. So many weeks with him keeping all of his thoughts to himself, and even now he tries to hide it, how much he needs release from it all. He had to admit he was flustered, so desperately needy for your touch. But he had to finish this. It was important. Nothing could distract him now, not even you.

When you hear this, your eyes widen in shock. You guess he wasn't going to give in as easily as you thought. “No, that can wait, I cannot– I need you now.”

“It’ll just be a couple minutes…”

“That's what you say, but it takes you hours to actually finish up.”

“Y/N… I really don't want to disappoint you–” Jisung say with a strain in his voice, the sound of his groggy words only making you more desperate.

“Then just shut it, let me do the rest.” You say affirmingly, getting off the table and sitting on his lap, facing him, before quickly going in for a kiss. You kiss him as you teasingly trail your tongue on his bottom lip as you press against him, trying to close as much contact between you as possible. Your desperation was obvious to him. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your waist, not pushing you off but stopping your movements.

“Fine, if we're going to do this then– do you want me to wear a condom?” He mumbles against your neck, feeling his lips against your skin, breathing in the sweet smell of your perfume.

“I don't think it really matters… Plus, who said you'll have the chance to cum inside me? I'm going to guide you through it, whether you like it or not. You will only cum if I give you permission.” You gently palm his crotch, feeling his erection pressing against his shorts. Seeing how worked up he was already, you grab his wrist and lead him to your shared bedroom, shoving him onto the bed without a second thought. He fell back onto the bed, his breath got heavier, a small smile forming on his face, even if he’d try to deny it.

“One last thing, Han…” You murmur, climbing on top of him. Your fingers hooked at the base of his shorts, tugging at them slightly. “This… I need it off.” You move your hand to slide under his shirt, feeling every part of his abdomen, taking in every sensation under your fingertips. Tracing small circles on his skin and pressing against his stomach to feel his firm muscles which he had recently started gaining from his frequent workouts when he wasn’t working. His skin felt hot under your touch, igniting the fire that burned within him even more.

“Can’t you take it off…?” He mumbles, looking up at you with those pretty eyes of his.

“No, do it yourself. I love watching you strip.” You respond with a smug expression spreading across your face. He takes your words in for a moment before immediately taking off his shorts, raising his hips to slip them down to his feet before throwing it somewhere in the room. You stop to take in his body, noticing the wet spot on his boxers, making your body feel more desperate, not that you weren’t already wet to begin with.

You run your finger over his lap, stopping at where the wet spot is and pressing harder against there, to better feel the dampness.

“Can’t you pick up the pace a little….? “ Han groans in frustration, letting out a shaky breath as you continue to tease him with the wetness strained against his clothed cock.

“No, I don’t want to…” You hum, acting as if you had all of the time in the world, which only agonized him further. “Take off the shirt.”

Han listens to your commands, allowing you to boss him around as if he was your own personal fuck toy. He takes off his shirt in a swift motion, letting his right arm slide to his back and lift up, and strips off the layer of cloth. It was unfair really, you were still fully clothed, teasing him, playing with his arousal, while he was starting to turn into the vulnerable mess you loved.

“Ngh… Why do you keep teasing me?” He said with a small moan that escaped his lips, not even trying to hide his sounds.

“Because, I like hearing those sounds of yours, it's cute.” You say with a smile.

“What are you even going to do to me…?” He said, his voice coming out a lot more whiny than intended, full of curiosity for what you had in store for him. When you heard his whine, you smiled and then pulled down his boxers, closing any barriers from what you wanted, letting you stare at his cock before he looks away from you in embarrassment. His cock was glistening with pre-cum, flushed a delicate pink, pulsating with desperation for this teasing to end. The sight was beautiful– almost sinful– to see him this desperate beneath you.

“I'm going to play with this pretty cock of yours, then after I'm done teasing, I'll let you cum.” You instructed, running your fingers lightly along his length. After you said this, you got off from him and moved to kneel between your legs. “Sit up, please.” Han sat up and used the headboard of the bed to prompt himself up, watching your actions.

“Are you going to–”

“Yes, yes I am. Is that something you want?”

“Mhm! Just… just do it. Please.” He was so desperate for you that he almost moaned. He watched you, noticing the moment you leaned down more and were face to face with his cock. You slowly used your hands to grab it and guide it to your mouth, squeezing his cock upward towards his tip gently, making a generous bead of pre-cum escape. His tip was burning, he was so hard. After some admiration, you ran your tongue over his tip, addicted to the salty taste of him.

“Ngh… Y/N…” Han moans out your name. He was incredibly worked up. Taking note of how easily he moaned even to any slight action you did. Now you were wrapping your lips around the head, teasing the sensitive hole on his dick, making him moan with every lick and suck. You continued to control the pace, edging him. As you continue, you realize how wet you already were, your panties feeling soaked from your arousal. Your head moves in a steady rhythm, matching the heat pooling between your thighs, taking his hand and guiding it to your clit under your clothes.

His touch on your clit was good, the way his finger circled in a steady pace despite how your knees buckled under the overwhelming pleasure. So good that you didn't even notice him whining, begging you to get off his dick. Before long, you can feel him push against you as he comes, filling your mouth with his warm seed. Once you finished swallowing his cum, licking up every drop he released, you sat up, You smirk at him, wiping whatever was left on your face, embarrassment filling his face.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” He says as panic comes from his voice, as he disobeyed what you ordered him not to do.

“No point of it now. But, don't you think you should be punished for this?” You ask teasingly. You take off your shirt and roll it up to be used as a rope using its long sleeves. You then take off your skirt and panties, tossing them across the room. “As a punishment, I'm going to use this to tie your pretty little hands up, alright?” He nods eagerly, his eyes filled with excitement at the thought of being dominated by you. You smirk, enjoying the power you have over him in that moment.

“I– Alright. If that’s what you want to do.” He says under his breath, trying to not act as excited as his reaction gave away. You take his hands in yours, kissing the back of his hands before tying his wrists together. The feeling of his soft hands makes you exhale with pleasure. He was unreal. Too perfect for your own sanity.

“Ji, since we're doing this. Just know, you can tell me to stop.” You reassure him, making sure that you could fit a finger into the makeshift handcuffs around his wrists to be sure it didn't cut off his circulation. When you take a look at him, you love the sight. He had his hands behind his back, unsurprisingly his dick was hard again, leaking pre-cum as it twitched from the cold breeze in the air. His hair was stuck to his forehead from sweat as he stared up at you, his expression being unreal. His face was flushed, his eyes needy before you looked down at his slightly parted lips, seeing the tip of his tongue making his pink lips wet and glossy before he bit down on his bottom lip. You couldn’t stop looking at the sight. He looked so pathetic.

After admiring the sight for a minute, you let yourself have some fun. Crawling up from the edge of the bed when you took a moment to stare at the man you put into submission to be face to face with him once again You line him up to your dripping entrance, hovering for a second before you finally sit down on him. You felt him filling you up, his girth stretching your walls, making you feel a sensation that you hadn’t felt in seemingly forever.

You let out a satisfied moan when you felt his length filling you up, not even stopping to check on Han who was equally satisfied with your pussy around his length. He let out a stifled moan, quickly biting his lip to stop him from letting out his moans any longer. Fuck, his moaning sounded amazing.

“Han, I told you to not moan, isn't that right?” You tease, looking down to see your pussy sinking down on his cock. What a beautiful sight.

“I'm sorry– I didn't mean to… it just slipped out. You feel so good…” He whined, closing his eyes as he felt you clench. “Did that excite you?”

“Maybe… But you know I can't help it. I feel your cock twitching inside me, Ji…” You mumble, a moan following after you felt his dick twitch again which made you grip onto him, digging your nails into his biceps as you clenched your eyes shut. When you re-opened your eyes, all you see was his chest, which gave you an idea. After a second of thought, you used your tongue to lick up his chest– tasting the sweat on his skin– before stopping at his nipple, you used you mouth to suck at, and gently nibble his nipple. His reaction to this came not from out of his mouth, but you felt it inside of your pussy as his cock was throbbing inside your walls. All of this felt too good. You started to move against him, grinding your clit against his pelvis. The friction against your clit making you moan against his chest. You look up at him, he was watching your movements, holding back his moans. “Han, you can moan now. I can't see you suffer like that any longer…”

He stopped biting his lip, immediately letting out a moan, and finally having the chance to release what he had been holding in all of this time. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck— Ngh~… You feel so good…” He whined, his voice made you clench. He sounded so desperate, for you, only for you.

“Ji– fuck…” You moaned out, your breath growing heavier as you continued to grind against him, now lifting your hips and bringing your body down onto him, riding him slowly. His dick felt so good, your moans were inevitable.

He was moaning with you, trying to grip onto something to steady himself a bit. You wanted him to touch you, but he wasn’t allowed to. You moved in to kiss him, forcing your tongue into his mouth. "Fuck,” he groaned against your lips. Your kiss was sloppy, wet, and good. Your tongue fighting his own for domination. His hips started to move against yours, chasing for more pleasure.

“Han,” you gasped, shocked by the fact that he could still move. You need him to touch you, you take his hands from behind him and then quickly untie him. He smirks as you untie him, almost immediately moving his hands to your waist without hesitation, holding you still as he thrust up into you. You moan from it, even if he didn't change the position, he dominated your insides. "Shit—Han, ngh, slow down..." You said in between moans. His movements only grew more intense, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered.

"I can't, Y/N. Not when you feel this good." You gripped onto him tighter, nails digging harder into his skin.

“I need to change positions. Please.” you whispered, trying to keep down your moans. He stopped and then moved you to be on your back, laying you against the bed before sliding out of you, making you whine slightly to no longer be full of his cock. Your pussy ached in anticipation, allowing him to manhandle you. He moved a pillow under your hips, then he started to touch himself, making sure he was slick with a combination of your juices.

He then kneeled below you, spreading your thighs apart with kisses, and moving his mouth closer to your mound. He started by giving your clit a kiss, licking the sensitive bud and trails his tongue across your labia. His tongue lapped across your folds, savoring the sweet taste of your pussy, taking in every part of you that you allowed him to have. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to steady yourself but accidentally doing the opposite since you can’t help yourself but to grind against his face. His tongue was so good. Eventually, he started to tease your hole. He entered the tip on his tongue inside you, inserting his fingers alongside his tongue.

“Fuck! Han… Please, please put them in.” Your desperation showed though, you needed him to make you cum. Once he heard the desperation in your voice, he stopped teasing. He almost instantly inserted his fingers inside you, moving his mouth to suck on your clit as he curled his fingers inside you, instantly hitting your g-spot and started to abuse it. He moves his fingers in an up and down motion, making you moan louder than usual. Quickly, the pressure started to build up, your eyes teared up, and drool started escaping the corners of your mouth. It was so good, he made you cum almost immediately, feeling every part of you build up and crescendo, leaving your pussy to pulsate from the sensation. You scream when you come, his name escaping your mouth along while you soaked his face and the sheets. That was easily the best orgasm of your life.

“Fuck, I didnt realize it was that good. I didn't expect you to squirt on me.” He chuckles as he lifts his head from your glistening pussy, licking your cum from the edges of his mouth and wiping away the rest. The smirk on his face was so hot.

“Han, please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me again, I need to feel your cum dripping from inside me when we're done.”

“Fuck, dont say it like that…” He grows, grabbing you by the wrist, flipping you as if you weighed nothing. “How did I not notice that you're this needy?”

“I've always been ready for it, you just didn't take advantage of it.” You say before spreading your legs, moving your hand down to your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly. “Are you ready to use me now?” You knew that you looked like a total slut, he loved it. His gaze darkened as you spread yourself out for him, you were perfect. A brief second passes before he flips you over and got on top of you, kissing you intently before poked the tip of his tip inside you, almost as if he was begging for permission to fuck you hard. Of course you let him, I mean, who wouldn’t? From the moment of you saying yes, he starts. You were so wet that he just slid inside you with ease, pounding into you in a sloppy way at first, then finding his rhythm and giving it to you real good.

The pillow under your hips made everything better, allowing him to repeatedly hit your g-spot until you came. He gave you no time to recover as he continued, using your cream as a lubricant. Every thrust inside you felt more overwhelming the next, your abused g-spot getting more used each second. It hurt, but sex with pain was worth having. You grip onto him, your nails digging into his skin, his back getting scratched every time he slammed his pelvis against you. You were almost crying from how good it felt, the two previous orgasms he made you had made you much more sensitive than you should've been. “Fuck! Han, you feel amazing. Oh… you feel so good…” She moans, her breaths shaky, her words exasperated.

“I love it when you say my name like that… do it again.” He said as he continued to pound into you.

“Han…” You exhale, your voice was shaky from his thrusting.

“Fuck…” He moans, your voice was music to his ears. He loved your sounds, it made him go crazy. The rhythm continues, being steady, consistent, and perfect. Eventually, his voice became more ragged, he was gasping for air; a clear sign that he was getting close. He was painfully hard, you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he continued to chase after his own pleasure. His thrusts were turning sloppy, his tongue was completely relaxed against you as he continued to try and kiss you, but he was too focused on how close he was to cumming in you to care.

“Cum for me baby… please, I need to feel the tightness of your pussy when you cum. I’m so close…” He begs against your neck, his hot breath against your skin. His body glistens in sweat, it was so fucking hot, it only took one more thrust into your pussy to make you cum again.

As you came, you felt his seed spilling inside you. His warm cum made your mind fuzzy, your mind and body could only feel ecstasy at that moment. The sound of Han’s moans against your neck as he collapses on top of you made everything so much better. You had worn him out, you could tell. He was panting, but took the opportunity to lick the sweat off your shoulder. Everything was fuzzy, the room was still hot. Though, you eventually managed to refocus your vision, quickly wrapping your arms around your husband, completely satisfied for the first time in weeks.

Han didn’t last long after his orgasm, from the moment he collapsed on top of you and managed to regain his composure, you felt him falling asleep— not that you mind, it was just unexpected. Normally he would’ve had the energy to watch a movie with you after, but you both were exhausted. The room reeked of a mixture of sex and sweat, and you knew that his cum which was leaking from your pussy was making a mess. But you didn’t care, sleeping messy, sweaty, together after sex was the best, maybe even better than the sex itself.

[axlenbear]

HAN 🏆 THE ULTIMATE SKZ CODE RECAP #1

[axlenbear]

BANG CHAN ♡ SKZ CODE EP. 69

[axlenbear]

HAN for DAZED KOREA (FEB. 2025)

[axlenbear]

I want to have him skin

HAN — SKZ-TALKER GO! S05E04

[axlenbear]

HAN JISUNG for DAZED KOREA