bxffietheblxxdy - Tumblr blog

bxffietheblxxdy · 7 months

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pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

"What’s wrong?" you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

"Sowon?" you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

"Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—" He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel," you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?" you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

"Sure. Sure," he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

"Thank you," you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Someone's knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are small lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#BFIWBXISHCIWBXDAK MY HEART #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions

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bxffietheblxxdy · 10 months

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her.

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed.

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore.

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness.

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.”

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had.

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth.

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth.

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival.

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch.

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film.

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right.

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you.

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday.

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now.

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again.

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation.

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect.

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.”

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you.

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker.

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly.

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made.

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully.

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation.

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need.

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.”

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw.

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened.

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too.

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure.

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message.

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top.

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.”

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you.

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you.

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you.

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again.

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex.

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you.

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted.

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die.

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable.

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

#bang chan smut #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #chan fanfic #chan fic #chan smut #stray kids smut

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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THIS WAS SO CUTE

Say yes to me

after your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.

pt. 2 of say yes to heaven. highly recommend reading it first (it's short i promise and it sets the mood ajsjd)

a.n: and if i told y'all i wrote this in one go... when i say hyune possesses me i MEAN it... these two pics sit at the same table for me, and three people asked for a second part and i can't say no to you guys!! ENJOY, feedback is highly appreciated as always <33

There are a lot of things that Hyunjin wishes he could say to you.

How he loves you is first.

He never planned on keeping secrets from you. Ones he carefully tucked away at the corner of his mouth, ready to spill each time your gaze met his.

He still remembers when it all started vividly- how the friendship blossomed into something more for him, the way petals shyly unfurl on the first days of spring.

You were sitting next to him on the bench of your favorite park, ice cream in your hands. Hyunjin intently watched as you rambled about your latest essay, and the world seemed to fall into a tranquil silence, save for the sound of your voice.

Hyunjin suddenly found himself enthralled by the way the sunlight gently grazed your cheeks, painting them with the softest golden hue. One he tried to replicate many times in his paintings, but to no avail, as they could never live up to you.

How the light breeze danced upon your hair, swaying it gently from left to right. How your lips moved with each word, pulling him into an unyielding trance. Those very lips that graced his skin with kisses, months later, scorching themselves into his memory.

Sometimes it still felt surreal, almost too good to be true, that you left traces of yourself on him. That he had you graze his jaw and collarbones, tentatively, as if you were afraid to dive in fully. "I'd catch you", he wanted to say, "even if it meant I'd drown in the process."

He wasn't ashamed to admit that he took a picture of the lipstick stains you left on him. He didn't even realize they were there at first, that is until he went to Changbin's bathroom. There, under the dim lighting, he found that the blush creeping up his neck matched the shade of your lipstick. His body seamlessly entwined itself with everything that made you.

He felt like a shaky tree branch at your hands- dainty leaves falling at your feet, each one scribbled with love notes for you. And he could no longer contain this feeling within him. He was tired of this five month old secret. He wanted to be an open book, one you could read or toss around, as long as you'd touch it.

But he needed to gather his thoughts and plan how he'd say it. How he'd free this scary confession from the confines of his heart. He told you that you'd talk about it later, and it's already been twelve days since he's last seen you. He had to do it soon.

So he went to his cabin, the one he rents on the weekends when he needs to get away from the world. It's small, nestled away in a remote part of the town, with a golden chandelier dangling in its living room- it's where Hyunjin feels most like himself.

Hyunjin doesn't hear your car pulling up into the driveway. Or your hurried steps to the door. But he hears your urgent knocks, and he's confused as he pushes the doorknob down. Then he's worried when he notices that it's you, with puffy eyes and a slightly runny nose.

For a moment, he stood there, too stunned to articulate a proper question. You don't give him the time to properly organize his thoughts, anyways, as you take timid steps towards him, before wrapping your arms around his waist. Your cheek rests against his chest, right above his heart, and you're crying. Hyunjin can tell from the slight tremors coursing through your body; the very one he's hugging right now, tightly, securely, until you're pressed to him, like two pages of the same book.

His large hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back, and a myriad of questions swirls in his mind. But they can wait, until you stop crying- the one sight that can bleed his heart dry.

"You- you said we'd talk later," you say through hiccups, as Hyunjin's hand moves to the back of your head, gently smoothing down your hair.

"I did," he hums, slightly rocking you from left to right.

"Then why didn't you? You just... stayed silent. For two weeks."

"Twelve days."

"Hyune," you whine and he giggles slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your temple.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were waiting for me."

"Of course, I was," you lean back, the sides of his black shirt scrunched up in your hands. "I was tipsy but I... I remember."

"What do you remember?" he asks, as his thumb gently brushes away your trailing tears. He knows what happened that night, he replayed those seven minutes in his head so much that he could recite them by heart. Every breath you took, every shaky exhale you let out. He remembers it all too well.

"What you said to me."

His eyes soften at the quiver in your tone. "Why are you crying then, hm?"

"Because you didn't talk to me and I thought you didn't mean it. And I- I can't handle anyone else lying to me. Especially you."

Hyunjin shakes his head, as the strings of his heart dance to the erratic rhythm of his pulse.

"I could never lie to you. Not when it comes to this," he says with the utmost sincerity he can muster. He pauses, a gentle smile etched on his lips. "I have tea."

"Tea sounds good," you respond quietly.

"Come in, then."

He let goes of you, but you remain close, your shadows merging together on the wooden floor. Hyunjin smiles softly at the sight- he too wishes he could become one with you.

His hands are shaking slightly as he brings the water to a boil. You're wandering around, admiring the cozy interior, and the questions in Hyunjin's head can't seem to stop. What does this mean? he wants to ask. Do you want me like I want you? But he bites his tongue. Not until you've fully calmed down.

One minute.

"Here," he says, handing you a steaming cup of Jasmine tea. He leans his head against the wooden wall, as the steam fogs up his glasses.

"Thank you," you smile, settling into the seat opposite of him. "I like your ponytail."

"Oh," his hands reach up instinctively to his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it. "It kept getting in my eyes so I tied it up."

"It suits you," you smile softly, and Hyunjin finds that the galaxy's stars are all shimmering in your eyes. He imagines the milky way weeping for the loss of its twinkling lights; but they look prettier in you, he thinks.

"How did you know I was here?" he asks, bringing the sweet drink to his mouth.

"Changbin told me," you reply.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes holding yours over the rim of his cup. He's nervous, a shaky mess from within, and he's unfolding right in front of you.

Two minutes.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

His question seems to take you off guard. Your eyes slightly widen, before softening around the edges.

"It seems too unrealistic. But I'd like to think it exists. And you?"

"Despite being a hopeless romantic..." Your chuckle interrupts his words, and he finds that the sound of your laugh is much warmer than the drink in his hand. "I never believed in it. Because love is much deeper than a superficial level. It could be infatuation or a crush. But not love," he pauses, idly circling the rim of his cup with his finger. "But then I realized I was wrong."

His eyes captivate yours as he leans back, his sole attention on you. "They don't call it love at the first look, but rather love at first sight... You know, the first time you truly see someone. And I saw you."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

Three minutes.

"I saw you. I see you. how kind, gentle, and full of life you are. How you turn the most mundane sceneries into extraordinary ones, because your eyes are filled with colors we cannot see. But I saw them through you."

He smiles softly, his hand reaching out to the middle of the table, right where yours rested. His thumb gently grazes your palm, as he starts to speak again.

"It hurt me to see you with someone else. But he made you smile, at least at first. And I love your smile, so I was happy for you despite it. Because you deserve joy in your life, even if I'm not the one behind it. But then he hurt you," he pauses, his eyes tightly shut as if it physically pained him to utter these words. "And it hurts me to see you in pain. Because you deserve a love as gentle as you."

Four minutes.

"Hyune..." you trail off, and he shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face.

"You don't have to say anything. You're confused and still hurt but I just needed you to know that."

"Know what?" you ask breathlessly, your hand now on top of his. You're hanging desperately onto his every word, you needed to hear it.

"That I love you."

Your fingers intertwine with his, and Hyunjin believes he has never truly breathed before this moment.

"I want to love you too, I do," you're quick to say. "You make me feel safe like I could hand you my heart and you wouldn't hurt it. But you also make me feel alive and I regret not seeing you first. Not when my love was still whole and not bruised."

"So you could love me?" he asks, a beaming smile brightening his face.

"I came crying to you because I thought you left me, and I couldn't bear it. You have your answer," you giggle sheepishly.

Five minutes.

"And you want to love me?"

"I do. I want to see you and notice a new detail about you every day. But I'm so scared, Hyunjin."

"It's okay to be scared. I don't want to rush you. I can wait."

"What if you get bored? Or if someone else catches your eye. I can't ask that of you."

Hyunjin squeezes your hand and the thoughts in your head go silent.

"I've waited for months for you. If it's you I get at the end then I can wait for an eternity."

"So you'll do it?" you smile incredulously. "You'll wait by my side?"

"Mm. I will."

Six minutes.

You're both quiet for a while, and he's too lost in you to count down the seconds. But then you clear your throat.

"Can we start waiting tomorrow?" you suddenly ask, walking up to him.

"What do you mean?" Hyunjin questions, the butterflies in him fluttering so intensely he's close to flying away.

"We're both here now," you whisper, as you sit beside him, his thigh brushing against yours. He licks his lips nervously.

"Can I try something?" you ask again, but this time you aren't drunk. You are less heartbroken and more sure of your feelings for him. You want this.

"I'm yours."

Your fingers reach up to cup his face, thumb grazing his cheeks gently. His hands hold your waist, beckoning you closer.

"I see you," you whisper, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry it took me so long to see you."

"Love at first sight," he responds breathlessly as your lips graze his, and his heart threatens to burst out of his chest- they'll find your name carved in his veins.

"I believe in it now, Hyune," you grin, before crashing your lips onto his.

Seven minutes.

There are a lot of things Hyunjin wished he could say to you. Sappy things, like how he believes you invented colors, that it drips down from your fingertips grazing his skin- explaining the red and yellow dots dancing before his closed eyes.

How everything seems to be heightened with you- the taste of the Jasmine tea imprinted on your lips, or the breaths escaping his body, eager to be released and to finally mingle with yours.

Or that he wishes that you were wearing your red lipstick so that your mark on him would last longer. A physical token of what you do to his heart.

But there was also much simpler words he wanted to say, ones that he managed to whisper in between tender kisses- "thank you for seeing me."

One year.

Your arms encircle Hyunjin's broad back, as you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade. "You know it's criminal for you to look this good in a simple white tee," you sigh wistfully, Hyunjin's perfume enveloping you both in an intimate cocoon.

"Good thing I'm yours then," he chuckles and you beam in reply, although he can't see you. Hyunjin is yours- he waited just like he promised he would. And now you're back in his cabin, where it all began, and he's making you Jasmine tea.

"And I am yours," you plant a kiss on his back and he turns around, a wide smile on his face.

There is still a sense of relief you find sometimes in Hyunjin's features when you tell him that you love him. As if he can't still quite believe it, even after a year of dating. It is the look traced on his face right now- a slight awe as he looks down at you.

"You said yes to me," he says so faintly, as if speaking to no one but himself, and you nod, placing a gentle kiss on his wrist.

"I'll always say yes to you."

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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Literally me to anyone with a pulse

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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DLMLU: A Concept Study

Writing is obviously meant to let your imagination go wild, but I have a severe compulsion when it comes to creative endeavors. That's why I prepared this art-based visualizer for DON'T LET ME LOVE YOU in case you were curious about what my original vision was 😊CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!

THE NEIGHBORHOOD

CHRIS' GARAGE

HUNTING DONUTS

PEACH VODKA WHILE WAITING FOR HIS TEXTS

THE WAITING ROOM OF CHRIS' CLINIC

YOU & I

Visual Spoilers from Chapter 4 (Click to enlarge)

📌Permanent taglist: @sai-kida134 @straywrds @svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @changbinluvr @lotus-dly @nabis-dreamscape-world @venustired @sikebishes @changbinheart @downbadreading @bxffietheblxxdy @binstitsweat @reallyloudstarlight @lifeinakpopbubble @djeniryuu @squishylee612 @hgema @gold-dragon-slayer @babebatter @quokka95scum @guiltycoco @sunnyseungup @midsoulz @aquavv02 @sunlitwilderness @goblinracha @mxnsxngie @itstorimf @suhomylife @fixation-dump @lmhsbitch @straydhampir @minhosdaydreamer

#YFITBDBSIDBWSKCHWO #THESE ARE SO PRETTY WHAT #IM SO EXCITED FOR NEXT CHAP CHWICBSKX

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

warnings: fem!reader, older!eddie, big age gap; reader is 22, eddie's 54, cheating; reader's husband cheats on her and she cheats on him. alcohol consumption, smut: thigh riding, oral (f receiving), light face, tit and pussy slapping, unprotected sex (p in v), some breeding kink and nipple play. minors, do not look or i'll take your eyes vecna style. also not proofread bc if i read it one more time i'll go crazy so if you see any mistakes or errors, just ignore them. ty

thank you to my babies who let me use their names in this fic :,) @munsonsfairygarden @eddieschains @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @keeponquinning @the-valkyrie-returns @micki-smiles @sleepy-wyvern @edsforehead @somethingvicked @emsgoodthinkin @sugarheart-riot @bxffietheblxxdy @haileighboi @live-love-be-unique @angellicbeast @sweet-villain @munson-enthusiast @imawh0r3-86 @choke-me-eddie @trashmouth-richie michelle, maddie and grace!! <333

ps: i named the husband john because fuck john mayer (stream speak now tv !!!)

“oh my god..”

“fuck yeah right there baby?”

“harder harder..”

the sound of the headboard hitting the wall can be heard from a block away. thudding repeatedly, loud knocks. the wall paint must be scrubbed off by now.

“you’re so good oh yes!”

“you like that you baby? go on take it then”

moaning fills up the room. the sound of sex bouncing off the walls and so does the smell of it. it’s unbearable to anyone who isn’t participating in making it.

it’s unbearable to you.

“john?”

john, your husband who was standing at the end of the bed with his secretary's thighs wrapped around his waist, turns to look at you with his panic flushed face. he pulls away from her, dropping her legs to the floor. his condom covered dick is still hard as he walks to you. “this isn’t what it looks like..”

uncontrollably, you laugh. you can’t even find it in you to want to murder him, you can’t find it in you to be mad or hurt. your husband is standing in front of you with an erect wobbly penis and nail marks on his ass cheeks while his secretary is laying naked on your bed, searching for her glasses between the sheets they messed up and you just laugh.

“what’s so funny?” he’s offended, of course he is.

“get rid of your hard on and leave my house, i can’t do this right now.” you tell him between chuckles before talking to the girl, “your glasses are on the floor right by the pink throw pillow.” she shamefully mumbles a ‘thank you’ not daring to look up at you, “you’re welcome.”

leaving them both upstairs, alone in your bedroom, you head to the kitchen and pull out the most expensive bottle of liquor in your cabinet. the one you’ve been gifted from his grandparents for your wedding, your husband has been saving for a special occasion eversince. this occasion is as special as special could get, you thought as you poured it down into a pint glass.

the drink on your tongue is bitter and heavy, just as the way you’re feeling. it’s perfect.

the girl comes downstairs first, she passes by the kitchen on her way to the door before she comes back into your view again, “i.. i’m really sorry i.. i didn’t.. i just needed a promotion i’m so sorry..” she stutters her words out.

you don’t blame her. you know what it’s like to be a woman in a man’s world. to have to beg for what’s rightfully yours, to have to do unspeakable things that goes against everything you stand for to get to where you want to go. the world is never easy on women and you’ve learned to be resilient as you’ve learned to be forgiving.

“i’ll make sure you get that promotion.” your voice is calm, collected. it may sound like a threat to her but to you it’s nothing short of a promise.

she hears his footsteps coming down the stairs and heads for the door, unable to face him once again, not when you’re there.

you hear him coming too and take another sip of your drink. “the man of the hour!” you yell out sarcastically as he enters the kitchen, clapping as you do. “took you long enough to get here, how’d you put it down? used your fist in the bathroom? that surely isn’t how you imagined your night to end, is it? poor.. poor boy.”

he sighs at your mockery, “can we ta..”

“talk about this? no we can’t. thanks for the suggestion. i made what i want clear. i want you gone, i don’t want to look at you right now.” you tell him but he launched forward anyway.

“baby..”

“stay away from me!” he halts, putting his hands up in surrender, “don’t ‘baby’ me. i want you out of that door immediately or else help me christ, i’ll do something we’ll both regret.” the venom in your voice could poison him and the fire in your eyes burn him alive. he’s never seen you like this before and he’s never been more confused.

“fine alright alright baby i’ll leave i’ll go..” he takes a few steps back as he speaks, his hands still up. “but i’ll come back in a few hours and we’ll talk about this and figure something out once you’re not acting so.. pissy, alright? i love you baby.”

acting so pissy..

he manages to leave, closing the door behind him just seconds before you threw your glass against the wooden door, shattering into thousands of pieces scattered on the floor. if he didn’t, it would’ve hit his back and you don’t know if that’s what you were aiming for or not, you just know that you wouldn’t have been sorry if it did hit him.

with shaky hands, you decide to ditch the glasses all together and grab the bottle by the neck, chugging it down. hoping the bitterness of the drink would drown out the bitterness in your soul.

some minutes pass by before you hear knocking on the door. you ignore it at first, let it knock and knock but it doesn’t stop so you yell at it telling it to go away only for the knocking to get louder, more persistent.

forcing yourself to your feet and careful of the shards of glass surrounding them, you walk to open the door, “what do you wan.. mr. munson..?”

eddie munson was the first neighbor you met when you first moved here. he helped you with getting the boxes inside, by helped you mean he did everything while you stared at him. he fixed the leak in your sink, screwed the door of your closet back in place, worked on the engine of your husband’s car when it broke and occasionally would nod at you when you wave at him from across the street.

he was kind at heart despite seeming a little cold at times and he was attractive. way too attractive, especially for his age. he was tall and fit. you’ve seen him without a shirt before, he’s covered in tattoos from his chest to his back but it was never long enough for you to memorize him, somehow he always knows when you're staring at him and goes to put his top back on, it's like he's hiding something. his shoulders are wide and he has just the right amount of muscles on his body. his hair’s long, dark brown with streaks of white mixed with it. his scruffy beard was a lighter shade of brown, you’ve heard rumors of why that might be, and there was white hairs there too. for a fifty four year old man, he wasn’t too bad and he was your neighbor.

“can i help you, mr. munson?” your voice came out weaker than you wanted for it to but you couldn’t help it. not after the night you’ve had and not when you’re standing in front of eddie fucking munson.

“i heard noises.. and..” his eyes fall to the ground, your bare feet and the broken wet pieces of glass on the floor before they come up to meet your face again. he’s saying it without saying it, “i wanted to make sure if you’re okay.”

“i.. i’m fine. thank you for coming by to check on me, i appreciate that mr. munson.” you give him a fake smile but he’s not having it.

“i heard john’s car speed away. he didn’t do this, did he? he hurt you?” he motions to the floor again, a frown on his face. he really has nerve coming to your house and bluntly asking you if your husband is abusing you. you don’t know whether you’re impressed or offended.

“no this isn’t john, it’s me. and no he didn’t hurt me, not like that.” you really shouldn’t have said that. fuck.

the frown on eddie’s face deepens and the questions in his mind multiply, you can tell too so you open the door further to let him in, “watch out for the glass.”

he steps on the glass carelessly with his black boots, cracking them into even smaller pieces.

“fancy a drink?” you offer him the bottle you've been drinking from and he shakes his head as he sits on the couch, the one where your husband usually sits. he fits in there better. “suit yourself.” you take another chug before putting it down.

“what did john do?”

sighing, you take a seat next to eddie. “twnety minutes ago, i caught dear john fucking his secretary in our bed.” you say impassively, “i don’t think this was his first time doing it too. i never saw it happen before so i kept thinking it didn’t, that i was delusional and paranoid but.. that isn’t even the worst part.”

eddie’s knuckles are white, he never liked john. since the day you moved in together, he knew john was bad news, he’s seen guys like him back when he was in high school and he sees them every day when he’s at work. he knows the type of guy john is. he’s not surprised but he’s furious.

men like john always get to have girls like you, smart, lively, pretty with an irresistible glint in your eyes that could make the devil repent then they drain you out. suck the life out of you and toss you aside, label you as damaged goods now that they’re done with you. men like john don’t deserve you, he doesn’t cherish the good he has. he doesn’t realize his privileges, that he gets to wake up to eddie’s dream girl and get to call her his own. john doesn’t deserve you and eddie always knew that.

“what is th..”

“mr. munson if i ask you a question can you promise to answer me honestly?” you interrupt him, looking at him with those desperate eyes, the ones he’d set heaven on fire for.

“yeah ‘course.”

“am i someone you’d fuck?”

“excuse me?”

“am i unfuckable is more what i’m asking. like.. if you had the chance and my willing consent, would you consider me a fuckable option?”

john really messed with your head, eddie thought before he spoke, “i don’t think i can answer that.” yes. he wanted to say yes, i’d fuck you in a heartbeat. i’d fuck you until the sun rises and sets again. i’d fuck you ‘til you forget his name but he can’t say that.

“you know what was worse than catching my husband fuck someone else? instead of getting mad at him for it, i’m mad because he never fucked me like that.” you blurt out, “he’d always have me on my stomach with my face down. he never touches me, he never talks to me, he never looks at me.” you shouldn’t be oversharing details about your sex life with the fifty four man you have a slight crush on and happens to be your neighbor but that doesn’t really matter anymore, just like your husband, eddie doesn’t want you too. “i thought something was wrong with him but now i know something is wrong with me.”

“hey hey nothing is wrong with you.” eddie chimes in and you want to laugh, “i’m serious, nothing is wrong with you.”

“you just said i’m unfuckable.”

“no i didn’t. i just didn’t answer.”

“it’s the same thing.”

“so you want the truth?” eddie asks and you nod, “i want to fuck you. i’ve wanted to fuck you since the first day you moved here. i moved the boxes to your kitchen and prayed that i’d get to fuck you on that counter but then your asshole of a husband came in and ruined it.” he confesses, “that didn’t stop me from fantasizing about it, about you. i’ve wanted you everyday, i fucking dreamed of you then i woke up and saw you with him. the piece of shit who don’t know how good he got it.” he huffs and adjusts his position on the couch, “that son of a bitch got to have you as his wife, got the chance to love you, to fuck you every night, to worship your little body and he didn’t take it. you see if i were him i would’ve..” he stops himself before saying too much, as if he didn’t already. “this is a mistake i should go.”

“no wait..” you move with him, quick to place your hands on his shoulder and sit him back down. “stay.” placing your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rising up with each leg lift, you straddle him and he doesn’t stop you. “show me what you would’ve done if you were my husband.”

“sweetheart, we shouldn’t be doing this.” he’s looking down at you on his lap, his hands laying palm up on his sides. he can’t look at you, he knows he’ll lose all sense of morality if he did.

“look at me and say that. please eddie.. just look at me.” you almost beg, your voice is tired, broken and needy and he can only resist it for too long.

he looks up, his eyes meeting yours. both dark with need, you more than him. you need this. you need to be seen and he’s seeing you.

“if you really don’t want this, if you want to leave.. i won’t stop you. just say it and i’ll let you go.”

“you’re..”

“too young for you? married? i’m an adult and i’m filing for a divorce first thing in the morning whether you’ll fuck me or not.” you will, you’ve already decided that before eddie came knocking at your door. “say you want to leave and i’ll let you go.”

his hands reach up to grab your waist, pulling you down on his hips. his hands are big and fingers thick. they dig into your body despite the fabric of clothes seperating them from your skin. “you’re crazy if you think i don’t want you.” one of his hands move across your back, up to the back of your neck and pulls you closer, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

wasting no more time, he connects his lips to yours, open mouthed and tongues immediately playing with each other, moving in sync. his lips are a bit chapped and rough, exactly how you’d imagined them to be like and he tastes like nicotine and mint mouth freshner. he tried to cover up the smell of cigerettes before he came here.

your hands rub his shoulders before they run down his chest, he relaxes beneath your touch, lowly whining against your mouth. you’ve never had someone react to you like that with nothing but your lips and hands before. it’s addictive.

“tell me about your fantasies.” you whisper and he pulls away a bit, staring at your lips then your eyes before leaning toward your jaw and planting kisses all across it and down to your neck.

“in my fantasies.. i mark you up everywhere, all across your neck..” his teeth gently sink into your skin before he starts sucking that area with his lips. soft then a little harsher then a little softer again. your husband never marked you. “you don’t cover it, let everybody see what i’ve done to you.” he moves away after he sucked enough and looks at the hickey he just gave you, a purplish red mark.

his fingers dance on the thin straps of your dress, “can i..?” he asks and once you give him your approval, he pulls them down and starts kissing across your shoulder then down your collarbones and the top of your breasts, giving attention to every new bit of skin that’s exposed to him with his lips. “i’ve thought of your tits everyday since i saw you sunbathing in that green bikini..” you remember that day, eddie came over to fix a leaking pipe in your bathroom.

you loved that bikini, it make your tits looks so good. you bought and wore it for john that day, he had just got appointed boss and you wanted to do look nice for him. “john didn’t even glance at me that day.” his scruff scratches you in the right away as he pulls your dress down lower, revealing your bare chest to him.

“that’s ‘cause he’s a fucking idiot.” his eyes stay glued to your chest, his mouth agape as he tries to regulate his breathing. “jesus.. look at you..”

eddie’s had his fair share of hook ups, more than a fair share actually. he’s been with plenty of women in his years but not one of them stands a fighting chance next to you, his forbidden pretty neighbor.

his fingertips lightly graze the top of your right tit and down to your nipple, he runs his thumb against it, feeling how your skin hardens under his fingers, feeling how sensitive and needy you are for him and you can’t help but feel your cheeks burn up at the way he’s touching you so tenderly, the way he’s looking at you like you’re all he craves.

he’s still clothed down to his boots but something about this feel so intimate. being naked for him feels just right.

“it’s a crime not to worship you.” he mumbles, using his other hand to straighten your back and lift you up a bit before he leans forward and begins sucking on your left nipple, whimpering as he does. this is a pleasure for him.

“ride my thigh sweet thing.” you don’t need to be told twice. fixing your position and lifting your dress until it’s pooled around your middle, flashing him your lacey underwear but he’s too occupied to pay attention to it now.

you sit back down on his jean covered thigh and slowly start to drag your core against it. the friction of your clit rubbing against the material of your panties and his jeans is immediately felt. it’s surprisingly pleasant, too pleasant. “just like that baby.”

“don’t.” you push his head back by placing your hand on his jaw , forcing him to let go of your nipple and look up at you, “don’t call me baby.” you tell him sternly and he doesn’t question you, just nods. “anything but that.. please.”

“if you say so.” he puts his hand above yours and brings it to his lips, kissing your palm. “i’m all yours pretty girl, whatever you say, i’ll do.”

“suck my tits then.” you tell him and watch him mumble a “yes ma'am” before putting his mouth back on your chest, kissing, sucking, biting, devouring you with his lips. “fuck..” your hands find his shoulders to stablize yourself as you grind your clothed cunt against him, “mr. munson..”

you feel him laugh against your chest, “mr. munson.” he mocks, pulling away to reveal a red spot right where his mouth has been and he stares at it proudly. “doll face.. can you make yourself cum for mr. munson hmm?”

hearing him call himself that does something to you. it’s a reminder that he’s still your fifty four years old neighbor who apparently steal glances at you when you’re in a bathing suit. he’s still the old man who fixes your broken pipes and helps you with heavy groceries. his hands that shook your husband’s are now gripping your hips and moving it in a circular motion on his thigh.

“yes yes i.. i’ll cum for you.” you moan, feeling how close you are to your release. your clit almost hurts from the roughness of his jeans but it feels so good. you don’t want to stop.

“that’s my good girl.” he groans, taking control, moving you back and forth so you can get lost in the feeling and not worry about a thing, “come on pretty girl, soak my thigh.”

you hide your face in his neck, closing your eyes as you reach your climax. feeling tingles run down your spine as you do then feeling wetness all over your folds. underneath you, in your underwear and on his jeans. you’d feel embarrassed of it but all you can feel is euphoria.

“there you go.. there we are, sweetheart take your time.” he soothes you, kissing along your jaw then your neck, gently biting at your soft spot. “gonna lay you down and eat your pussy yeah? wanna taste how sweet my girl’s for me.”

he wants to taste you. he wants to eat you out. he suggested it. you didn’t have to beg for it or even ask. it’s something he wants.

“yeah okay yeah..” you nod and feel his big hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you up as he stands then lays you down where he was sat. you noticed the wet stain on his thigh and your cheeks feel hot, you ruined his jeans and he’s okay with it.

he kneels down next to your feet, his hands still holding your waist. he pulls you toward himself and runs his fingers down to your hips, tugging at your underwear, pulling it down. it’s sticky and wet from your orgasm. you’d think it’s gross but you couldn’t care less right now.

“jesus doll look at the mess you’ve made” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“eddi..”

“shh it’s okay, cleaning up messes is my speciality.” he says as he tears your panties off, too impatient to drag them down your knees. “gonna clean you right up.” he nudges your legs open, spreading them as far as you can go before wrapping his arms around your ass, getting close to your core. he fucking breathes you in.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen..” he kisses your hipbones, one by one. “smells like heaven too” he fills up the valley between your hips with kisses, more tongue as he goes. going down lower and lower with each one. “i bet you taste like candy.” putting his tongue out, he licks down from your clit to your opening then back up again. expertly collecting all your cum on his mouth, making sure not to leave a drop behind before his lips attack your clit.

“eddie fuck!” you try to squirm away but he tightens his hold on you.

“don’t fucking move.” he demands and whine out desperate ‘okay’s’, your hands reaching down to grab his hair for some leverage as you wrap your legs around his head, your feet digging into his back. “good girl.” he whispers before circling his tongue around your clit again, drawing 8’s before wrapping his lips around it, sucking and suckling at it.

“so.. fucking.. good.” he whimpers, licking down to your slit and folds, messing with your slick before pushing his tongue inside you. you can tell how experienced he is when he begins moving his head up and down, nudging his nose against your senstive bud. he’s probably been with over a thousand of girls, more experienced girls, less insecure girls, girls who.., you thought but your thinking was cut short when you felt a heavy sting to the side of your thigh.

he spanked you. he fucking spanked you. with the rings on. and god does it burn like a fire in paradise.

“get out of your head.” pulling away a bit, he licks three of his fingers before slapping them down on your cunt. “focus” slap, “on” slap, “me.” slap.

you shouldn’t be moaning. this shouldn’t be as pleasurable as it is but the pain is making you dizzy in the best way there is. lost in a haze.

“i’m sorry” you yell out between groans, careless of what the neighbors will think. they can all go to hell with their pretentious, picture perfect lives.

“that’s what i thought.” eddie spat out before spitting on your pussy, putting his mouth on it again and rubbing his tongue across your folds, teasing your hole with each flick then slowly pushing it inside you again, way too slow. contrasting how his nose is rubbing against you.

the mix of that and the stinging of his beard overstimulate you further. you pull on his hair, your eyes rolling back. “eddie i’m gonn.. i’m gonna cum fuck..”

he moans against your core, nodding. his grip on your hips tighten, he holds you in place, holding you down as the heel of your feet dig deeper into his back.

“eddie eddie eddie..” you chant out his name as you cum, you’d feel him smirk against you if you were able to feel anything beyond the sugar rush running in your arteries, feeding your heart with delight. the feeling devoured you just as eddie just did. you stayed like that for what could’ve been three minutes or could’ve been three years but who’s counting?

“sweetheart? still with me?” he tapped your cheek with the pads of his fingers, the physical touch bringing you down to your celestial earth from your celestial high.

“i never came twice in a row before..” you didn’t mean to say that out loud and you don’t care that you did. the man’s heard your orgasm cry, so what if he heard another secret?

he wasn’t shocked in the slightest though. it seemed safe to assume john was a man who only cared for his own pleasure unlike eddie who sought pleasure in pleasing you. “what a shame.” eddie said, engulfing your waist in his hands and lifting you off the couch only to lay you down on the cold hard ground gently.

goosebumps take over your skin from the coolness of the floor underneath your back and the touch of his calloused hands, you’ll never get used to his touch, how rough and needy it is.

“make it three.” you blurt out as eddie’s hand travel up your body to your tits, stroking and squeezing. “make me cum three times.” your own hands reach towards his belt, pulling him closer to you, “fuck me mr. munson.”

you’re on your back in front of him and he’s never been more desperate for you.

“sweetheart..” he knows you’re only using him for revenge. only because you’re angry at your husband and he just happened to be there. he knows he’s only a temporary fix, a quick distraction, that’s all he’s ever been to pretty girls.. “only 'cause you asked nicely.” and he’s okay with that.

eddie lifts his shirt up, holding the hem of it between his lips as he’s unbuckling his belt, he’s even more fit upclose, you thought, letting your fingers trace across the tattoos on his hairy chest. you’ve wanted to do that since the day you caught him shirtless in your backyard while he was fixing the pool but then he put his shirt on once he realized you were staring. he’s almost covered in tattoos, demon-like figures and words, some of which you couldn’t make out because they were in different languages. you managed to make out a few though, lyrics and quotes but mostly names..

angel, delia, roo, maddie, wyvern, micki, yve, michelle, valkyrie, cat, victoria, emmalee, buffie, sugarheart, grace, haileigh, ellie, elizabeth, robie, julie, casey, rianna, josie, jewls, kat, ziggy and these are just the ones within your sight.

it’s endless, almost like a display trophy shelf if the trophies were dark black ink and the shelf was his skin except it’s not on display, it’s not meant to be seen.. that day by the pool he didn’t want you to see and in this moment, he still doesn’t.

your mind was too occupied trying to make sense of the names, you didn’t notice that he has already undone his pants and dropped it down to his knees until he lets go of his shirt, letting it cover his stomach again.

“will you get my name tattooed too?” you’re not shaming him for the number of girls he has slept with, he’s been around long enough for you to know that he’s been with way more women than the ones on his skin. you can’t help but wonder why he’s selective with the names.

he sighs, grabbing his cock through his boxers bringing your attention to the outline of it through the cotton material. “i hope not..” your confusion grows, does that mean you’re not good enough to make the cut? not pretty enough that he’d want to keep you on his body forever? not worth being engraved on his skin? “but i think i will.” there’s hints of sadness behind his voice, almost as if he chose the right answer but at a cost. you don’t get the time to question it before he speaks again, “still want this sweeheart?” one of his hands is rubbing along your calf, up and down. “you can tell me if you don’t, i want you to tell me if you don’t.”

“i do.” you confirm, spreading your legs further apart, feeling the sticky wetness run down your hole. “i want you.”

he pulls his boxers down, next to the jeans pooling at his knees, letting his cock spring free and hit against his stomach. “you’ve got condoms?”

he’s hard, big. he could easily be eleven inches and he’s thick, thickest you’ve ever seen. his own hand hardly wrap fully around his length. you watch him bump his dick a couple of times and watch him leak, pre cum dripping out of his crimson tip and you want to taste it, want to take him in your mouth and let him fuck your throat until it’s painted with his clear white load but more than anything, you want to feel him.

“yeah but i don’t wanna use them.” you say catching him off guard. “i want to feel you close.. without anything between us.” you’ve never said these words to john, you’ve never let him fuck you without a condom. a part of you never allowed it because it knew he was messing around with other people and you didn’t want to risk it, the other part simply didn’t want him like that. “i’m clean i promise.”

eddie’s eyes darken at the thought of fucking you raw, lust intensifying within him. the idea of feeling your velvety walls and being buried in your warmth alone could get him to cum so he stops stroking his dick to prevent that from happening. “princess if i fuck you raw, i don’t think i’ll be able to pull out.” he finds himself fantasizing about more, finishing inside you, filling you up until you’re dripping of him, marking you up from the inside, claiming you. the need is calling out his name like the sin that it is.

just as it’s calling out yours.

“then don’t pull out.” you place your hands on his shoulders, pulling him down until he was hovering above you with one hand keeping him steady on the floor by your head and the other holding his cock. you connect your lips to his, open mouth letting his tongue play free in your mouth as you wrap your thighs around his hips, you whisper, “cum in me, mr. munson.” his knees his the floor, you feel his wet tip rubbing against your clit, you moan against each others’ lips at the same time. “fill me up please.. i need you.”

eddie teases the head of his cock against your opening, your slick and his mixing together as he slowly pushes it inside you then quickly out, leaving you a panting mess beneath him, “how do you think your husband’s gonna feel if he knew his precious little wife is letting the old man next door fuck her raw hmm?” he chuckles, “can’t imagine he’d be too happy about it.”

“well fuck him.” you spit out, your hands running down eddie’s back and underneath his shirt, “besides, that’s kind of the point.”

this is all about revenge, getting even. it was never about you wanting eddie. you said it yourself seconds ago, you just need him. he knew it all along, that’s always how it is with him and pretty girls.

“ ‘course it is.” he thrusts his cock into you, giving you all of him at once. he smacks his palm against your mouth, muffling your screams as he slowly pulls out just to thrust in you again, fast and hard.

your nails dig into his lower back leaving crescent shaped holes in their wake as you cry out on his hand but he doesn’t falter. “this is exactly what you need isn’t it?” he says between grunts and you nod, slowly adjusting to his size the more he fucks into you, stretching and splitting you open on his cock. “god princess you’re such a whore.” he removes his hand off your mouth and you’re immediately moaning, smiling dumbly up at him.

“i’m your whore.”

eddie snorts at your words, he'll take whatever he's given if it means you'll be his. “if you say so.” his hips rock against yours, his pace is steady and rough before he takes his cock out and slaps it against your buffy clit then slowly slides it back in your hole, “john’s a fucking idiot” he mutters and you look at him perplexed, “don’t understand how he left this tight pussy and went looking for something else..” his lips find yours once again, he takes your bottom lip between his and lightly suck on it, “you feel like a virgin.” he whispers, letting go of your lip, “if you were mine, i would’ve fucking ruined you..” his right hand lands on your tit, slapping before groping and squeezing it, “wouldn’t have left this perfect little body desperate for attention,” his thumb strokes your nipple before he begins rubbing with it along his index finger, “bet john doesn’t even know how sensitive your tits are, does he?” he asks and you shake your head, too caught up in feeling good to verbally respond. “didn’t think so. those young boys don’t know shit about pleasing a woman.. taking care of her.”

his hand runs down your body and between your legs until his fingertips brush against your clit, “you’re gonna cum for me now yeah?” he’s not asking, he’s commanding. your pussy clenches against him, closing in your walls making him whine out, get weak in the knees. “fuck.. princess.. come on doll need you to cum first so i can fill you up isn’t that what you need?” he circles your cilt with his middle finger as his cock continues to abuse your pussy, you can feel him throbbing inside you. pulsating with each thrust. “want this old man to breed your cunt? get you so full of me? feel me all up in your tummy until you’ve got my baby in there? hmm?”

you never wanted a baby.. well, not with john anyway but something about this makes you feel ready to risk it all, something about eddie makes you feel safe to risk everything.

“yes eddie please i.. i..” your grip on his skin loosens as you feel your impending climax getting closer and closer, you go to shut your eyes but suddenly eddie’s hand is grabbing your face, cupping your cheeks.

“keep your eyes open. wanna see how my pretty girl cums for me yeah? keep ‘em open, let me look at you.” he says and you nod uncontrollably, forcing your eyes to stay open, staring into his dark ones, they look like black saucers with the thiniest circle of honey brown surrounding them. he wants to look at you. “good girl, such a good girl for me.” he praises you with a smile on his face, one that looks geniune, real.

your orgasm approaches you faster than the two before, harder too. leaving you breathless and helpless on the floor, gasping for air. eddie puts his mouth on yours and lets you breathe in his air.

his thrusts become messier and less stable after you’ve finished, chasing after his own release and not too long after, he feels his balls tighten and you feel his cock pulsing inside you, releasing a load after load of hot white cum. he truly meant it when he said he’s gonna fill you up because it didn’t seem to end. he just kept spilling inside you, moaning into your mouth as he does, “you’re so good to me, so fucking good to me.. milked me fucking dry jesus doll..” he says between catching breaths and admiring your face. “you’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful you make my heart ache.” he confesses, his eyes roaming across your every little feature, memorizing them. that lovesick smile hasn’t left his face, longing glances is all he can afford.

“i love you.”

the words slip out of your mouth before you could stop them, in no circumstance you would’ve imagined saying these words to your fifty four years old neighbor especially when you know they’re not true because they can’t be true but good enough for you, eddie knows they’re meaningless just as much as you wish you did.

“no you don’t.” he spits out just as quickly, “i’m just your escape and that’s okay sweetheart.” he kisses your cheek and it feels more intimate than everything else you’ve done tonight.

too intimate, too real, too good, too much for the both of you.

there's nothing left to do but to relish in the quiet afterglow of your sweet escape, his doomed daydream. but that's the thing about dreams.. they're gone once you wake up and you? you can only run so far before you run out of road.

for the next three days eddie waited. he waited for john to get out of the house. he waited to see his car pull out of the driveway and never come back again. he waited to watch him leave. he waited for you to come by, to tell him you’ve filed for a divorce. he helplessly waited for you to knock on his door and tell him that he should’ve been the one.

but that never happened.

on the fourth day a truck was parked on your driveway, a moving truck.

he couldn’t help but think john is finally leaving but his hopes were crushed to ash once he saw you carrying boxes to be loaded into the truck, with a big smile on your face and your husband by your side.

he stood on his patio and watched.

after a couple of minutes, you couldn’t ignore the lingering eyes that are fixated on you for any longer so you told john that you’ve forgotten a box upstairs and when he went to get it, you crossed the street to see your staring neighbor.

“mr. munson.”

“you’re moving. with him.” he dove right into the point, no causalities, no fake niceties.

your hand nervously reaches to your neck to scratch it and he notices it, “he’s my husband.” you covered the hickey he left there.

“what makes you think he won’t cheat on you again?” ouch.

you bite your lip, so hard it could bleed if you applied the tiniest bit more of pressure but it’s the only way to keep you from tearing up. you know john will cheat on you again. you know you’ll be stranded with no friends or family where you’re headed, no eddie. you’ve being exiled, it’s a punishment. there’s only so much you can think, or say, or do.

“i’m not here to dicuss my martial issues, i just wanted to thank you.”

“thank me? for what exactly?” he tosses his cigerette bum on the ground, stepping on it before crossing his arms against his chest.

“just for.. everything.” you mirror his stance, “so thank you, mr. munson.” with a weak smile on your face, his own softens, he looks at your house then back at you before nodding at you, silently telling you to go.

he’s letting you go and he watched you leave. because if there was one thing eddie munson knew how to do, it was loving pretty girls then losing them.

he can only hope that his tattoo gun isn't sick of him yet.

tags: @hazzaismyreligion @musicoverall @phyllosilicate-s @eddieschains @faeriemunson14 @munson-enthusiast @the-valkyrie-returns @winniesvane @quinnypixie @josephfakingquinn @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @ethereal-eddie86 @andrearose89 @crybabyddl @sugarheart-riot @becca-alexa

#IM SO UNWELL #HCOSBFJSICBSKSB #older!eddie #older!eddie smut #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

Text

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 15

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him.

there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

genre:friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au (kind of), star-crossed lovers

warnings:cursing, mature content, fancy drinking, mutual pining, sexual tension, so much angst, kissing, making out, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, dry humping, dom!hyunjin, jealousy, more angst

word count:35K (ik the wc makes it feel v long but it’s really not that much haha)

a/n: im so excited to be coming back with this huge of a chapter for you guys. so much goes down and im insanely excited to share this next phase of my story with you. its v long so pls get comfortable with a blanket and snacks. I would recommend rereading the last chapter, if you can! thank you for still being here.

i recommend that you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

He had fucked up. Even in the dimly lit drive-in theatre, the guilt on his face was evident. Hyunjin had never looked this devastated.

“I need to talk to you”

That’s what he had said. The gnawing feeling in your gut got worse. Those words together, in that order, was never a good sign. You knew as much, and you knew whatever he had to tell you was going to be something bad.

“Why did you leave in the middle of the film?” You asked, gaze darting between him and your friends.

Yuqi was staring wide-eyed, watching this unfold, soda cup clutched in her hands, and Felix…he looked beyond irritated.

The movie could still be heard all the way over here. You weren’t too far from the projection screen, and the speakers were right next to you. It was a horrible place to be having this conversation, but you couldn’t wait.

What was he holding back?

You’d always felt the safest around Hyunjin, but every breath between you right now was uncertain. He was fidgeting, sliding the silver ring off and on his finger.

“I was on my way back to you when—” Hyunjin paused, and the veins in his neck were prominent as he strained to be heard over the movie, “—when Felix found me. He wanted to talk”

Keep reading

#hiding my thoughts in the tags i case ppl haven’t read this yet #look away now #MY HEART HURTS VHANCOFBSN #WHAT IS GOING ON ?? IS THIS SELF IMPOSED PUNISHMENT ON HYUNJINS END? OR DID THE LABEL DO SMTH ??#WHAT IS HAPPENING #the way he was so cold to y/n😭#i rly hope there’s smth more going on and we find out soon😔🥹😭 my heart hurts for them both #ALSO LETTING FELIX KISS HER BEFORE SHE LEFT ?? Y/N GIRLY THATS MESSY PLZ #LIKE I KNOW IR SINGLE U CAN DO WHATEVER U WANT BUT PLZ THATS JUST COMPLICATES EVERYTHING MORE BCJSNCNS #another lovely chapter bubs🫶🏻🥹🖤 i hope you’re doing well ! be safe ! 🖤

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

Text

INFERNO | Chapter 2

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

«Say you love me.»

LIMBO IS BURNING 📜11.8k | Approx. 50-min. read 🚨Refer to series masterlist for general themes & warnings of this story (Reader discreation STRONGLY advised): HEAVY religious elements (skip if you're uncomfortable), old school traditions, discussions of arranged marriage at an early age, themes of demisexualism throughout, MC and Hyunjin slap each other once due to provocation, rage dryhumping, cum swallowing, accidental voyeurism, MC teaches Hyunjin how to masturbate, perform oral sex and vaginal fingering. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Day 1: Respect

Knock, knock, knock.

“Yes?”

You thought it was the head housekeeper checking to see if you needed anything, or maybe Bora delivering some news, or even the lead singer of the tavern downtown asking your hand in marriage, but you most certainly did not expect to see Hyunjin.

“Mother says I am to spend time with you this evening,” he uttered with that blizzard voice of his.

“Please sit, my lord.”

Hyunjin was dying the slowest death by mortification and found this whole thing outrageous as hell, but there was nothing he could do about it. He made his way to the sofa diagonal to you and sat down.

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” he curtly replied without looking at you.

Upon his response, you didn’t speak for some time. The tension in the room became so palpable that Hyunjin instinctively jumped to his feet and started pacing in the room like a caged animal.

“Why are you even doing this?” he raised his voice, “Don’t you have any self-respect?”

“What part of what I do is indicative of a lack of self-respect? I’m here to teach you about marital practices for your approaching union, my lord,” you responded calmly but your voice morphed into something dangerous in the second part of your answer, “And don’t you dare insult what I do.”

Not being used to a woman talking to him with that kind of firm voice, Hyunjin decided to take a step back and sit back down.

“What are we supposed to do here then?”

“We are supposed to converse,” you smiled at him, “Could you put that needle on this tray please?”

Hyunjin did as you said, and you reached for the tray to pick up the needle. The two-step action did not make any sense to him.

“Why didn’t you just ask me to hand it to you?”

“It’s an old superstition. Rumor has it people exchanging sharp objects with each other have terrible fights,” you tied the floss to the needle, “What do you think respect is, my lord?”

No one had ever asked Hyunjin such an abstract question before. He took a couple of moments to carefully think about it.

“Honor. And care. For people or things you consider important,” he answered seriously, “If you respect something, you should not attempt to change it, nor should you harm it.”

“Very true. A lady is to respect her man beyond all else. In return, a man is never to deny his lady’s worth. You should always appreciate and put each other first,” then you looked up to establish eye contact with him with double the emphasis on your words, “Should you fail, she will find a man who knows her true worth.”

“Says who?”

“Says your ancestors. It’s cumulative knowledge distilled from many many experiences.”

“I thought my ancestors said men were superior to women.”

“With all due respect, I refuse to believe your ancestors were of Barbarian descent.”

Hyunjin didn’t know what to expect from you, but he knew what not to expect. This. A clear display of wit and intelligence, refusing to retreat to your corner even when you were talking to someone of higher class.

And he found that… oddly charming about you.

“I’m afraid I don’t believe in things I don’t have clear references of.”

“Yet you’re a man of God, aren’t you, my lord?”

He felt like he was shocked from head to toe upon hearing those words. Hearsay was something, faith was something else entirely.

“That’s not up for discussion,” his voice was clearly symptomatic of acute irritation.

“I’m not discussing it. I’m merely stating a fact,” you spoke, annoyingly serene, “You do believe in God, don’t you?”

He jumped to his feet again, afraid he would do or say something he was going to regret if he spent any more time in this room.

“I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out!”

He harshly closed the door behind him and threw himself into the garden to calm down next to the fountain. As he was trying to appease the burst of emotions that came from nowhere, a figure approached closer.

“Hello, Hyunjin,” Yeji sat down next to him.

Hyunjin cursed a mouthful at the circumstances he was under. If only they were different… He wasn’t even able to talk to the one person he wanted to talk to the most.

“I assume you heard the news?”

“Yes,” he responded in resignation, “They even announced it.”

They sat there quietly for some time as neither of them knew what to say. Their whole lives were supposed to drastically change in less time than a human being was allowed to be born.

“You look sullen,” Yeji finally broke the silence, “Why?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you upset that we’re going to get married?”

“Aren’t you?” Hyunjin finally turned to her, “For crying out loud, Yeji, we’ve been friends forever.”

“Isn’t it better than marrying a complete stranger?”

Maybe. It could be. If getting married was on anybody’s radar in the first place. While the premise of wedding someone you knew seemed logical, the fact that it had to be a person you were this close to… That you were fond of in the most innocent sense of the word… That you were forced to see in another light that was impossible for you to see… Hyunjin was sure he was going to go insane within the month over how much he was thinking about these things.

“Who’s that woman at your house?”

“Mother took in a maid,” Hyunjin looked into the distance as he answered, “She’s not of good health lately.”

“She doesn’t seem like a maid to me, Hyunjin.”

“What else would she be?”

Yeji was pretty restless, but she just didn’t know how to word her concerns properly in a way that wouldn’t come across as offensive. One month prior to their scheduled wedding, and all of a sudden Gyeonggi Hwangs took in another maid? That alluring for that matter?

“I–I don’t know,” she shrugged, “You already have a maid, and uh– She seems older than you.”

“She is.”

“And she’s beautiful.”

“What’s your point, Yeji?”

Hyunjin was clearly getting more annoyed with this interrogation that didn’t seem to incorporate any questions. Yeji opted for keeping her silence in order not to irritate her friend-turned-fiancé any more.

“N-nothing,” she stood up and gently squeezed Hyunjin’s shoulder, “I hope to see you around.”

As Yeji disappeared into the distance, Hyunjin got lost in his thoughts once again. A woman older than him, but by what? She only must have been in her late twenties or something. She was indeed beautiful. Calm. Composed. Seemed to be skilled in holding a conversation. You were going to be living under this roof for the following month, yet Hyunjin couldn’t even be bothered to learn your name when none of this was your fault.

Who were you really?

Day 3: Respect

When Hyunjin arrived at your room that evening, you welcomed him with a little soju table you prepared in the corner, which also harbored some meat dishes you personally grilled as well as some fruits for dessert.

“Would you like one, my lord?” you asked him as you reached for the bottle.

“No, thank you.”

Upon his direct refusal, you dodged his glass and proceeded to pour some for yourself. You both ate in silence for some time and at long last, you reached for the shamisen that was laying right beside you.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked as if you were doing something completely heinous.

“Entertaining you?” you put the instrument back down since he looked like he was getting upset over it for no reason, “I thought you would like it.”

“Why would you assume such a thing?”

“I heard that you enjoy listening to shamisen pieces, my lord.”

The only person who knew Hyunjin’s fondness for shamisen besides his parents was Jaehyun. So you were asking about him, huh? Why? Why was it so important for you to entertain him? Didn’t you have anything better to do?

“Your lady has it tough,” you smiled at him warmly, “I hope you won’t be sulking this much when you’re with her.”

“I doubt they will be locking us in a room like this.”

“I doubt there will be any need to do such a thing where there is love.”

“Love?” Hyunjin scoffed, incredulous, “You think I’m getting married because of love?”

“Of course,” you shrugged, not even following why he was speaking with that sarcastic tone, “How do you hope to start a family without love?”

As you refreshed your glass, Hyunjin slithered his own glass towards you, silently asking you to pour some for him, as well. You obliged. As you took a big sip from the bitter liquid, you were hit with an unexpected question.

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

You momentarily froze. Why this all of a sudden? It was irrelevant to quite literally everything. What was he going to do with that answer anyway? Why would he st—?

“A woman who is not in love would not make a good wife. It’s the man’s duty to provide this to her.”

“So I should force her to fall in love with me?”

“A woman is ready to fall in love. You just need to—”

“I didn’t ask that,” Hyunjin interrupted, “Have you ever fallen in love?”

You reflected his usual irritated gaze back to him several times more intensely and basically spat your answer.

“Yes, I have,” you heaved a sigh, trying really hard to bite your tongue and change the subject, “A true man should be able to recognize the true beauty in his woman. Looks are ephemeral but the soul is permanent.”

“You deliver a lot of sermons for a prostitute, you know?”

SMACK!

You slapped Hyunjin on the face so hard that you could see the exact shape of your palm blaring bright red on his skin.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK I AM?!”

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him on the bed you were supposed to share all along, straddling him over his slacks immediately after. You ripped off the first three buttons of your blue dress to put your breasts on display and started dry-humping him out of pure rage.

“Look at a prostitute’s tits then. LOOK AT IT!” you grabbed his hands and pressed them on your hips, “It’s just a pound of flesh, isn’t it? There is NOTHING you can learn from a woman. They are only CUMDUMPS for you!”

As Hyunjin instinctively sank his fingertips over your clothed but still very much supple skin, a violent tremor spread throughout his body as well as excessive wetness between his legs accompanying a loud groan that ripped from his throat. It was quite different than what he had experienced in his demon dreams. This felt like a sneeze, only a million times better. Then he felt his brain reset for some reason.

“Do not ever insult me like that again,” you hissed once you were convinced he came to his senses, “Now go wash yourself. You’re gonna have to learn how to control your seed on your wedding night, brat.”

SMACK!

Hyunjin had absolutely no idea where that came from. He was so shocked at himself that it was as if he got out of his own body and just watched himself do it with no control over his willpower whatsoever. He had never been a violent person but… But…

“Good. You’re finally learning to become a man,” you pressed your cold hand on your cheek to soothe the burn his fingers left on your skin, a crooked smile refusing to leave your lips, “Thank you, my lord.”

You were about to leave the room to head towards the garden when you noticed Byeol right by the door, listening to the entire thing go down.

“What in the world is happening here?!”

“I’m teaching your self-righteous son how to ride a goddamn horse,” you gritted your teeth, “He has to fall down a couple of times to learn it properly.”

“What kind of horrendous language is this?!”

“Oh, was that too peasant-like for you, my lady?” you scoffed, “I’m trying to make a man out of a boy here. You either let me do my job, or we go our separate ways by the morning. I don’t give two shits about the aftermath.”

“Let’s… Let’s just all calm down,” Byeol tried to assuage the intense tension while Hyunjin just left the premises ragecrying. On top of everything you had just said, he absolutely despised himself for what he did to you. He walked and walked in the empty streets, drowning in his thoughts for god knows how long. Questioning, cursing, begging, praying…

A little past midnight, when you heard some footsteps in the marble hallway, you walked out of your room in your nightgown. In that dark corridor only illuminated by candles, you saw Hyunjin’s beautiful features stained with several liters of tears and it broke your heart into a million pieces. As he stayed put in his place, looking at you as if he was paralyzed, you slowly approached him and put your hand on his cheek.

“Don’t sulk. Don’t resent me. There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” you wiped away his tears with your thumbs, “Let’s forget about this and start over, shall we?”

You placed a chaste kiss in the exact spot you hurt him several hours ago as though you were trying to clean a wound.

“Good night, Hyunjin.”

You retreated back to your room, but Hyunjin stayed in that hallway for a little while longer, touching the brand-new new page your lips just turned on his skin.

Day 8: Sharing

As the hour was nearing closer to dusk, you and Hyunjin were in the garden accompanied by some cricket song and the scent of summer in the air enveloping you. You were sitting in silence, but not an awkward one this time—you were cross-stitching while Hyujin was scribbling some things in that little notebook of his right next to you on that bench. When you looked up, you noticed his brows were creased as if he was having a staring contest with the page in front of him.

“What is it that you’re thinking about so deeply, my lord?”

“I can’t find a word that rhymes with orange,” he kept tapping his fountain pen on his notebook, “Maybe there isn’t any.”

You scanned your memory to aid him in his quest and blurted out without thinking.

“Porridge, storage, courage, hemorrhage…”

Hyunjin looked at you all dumbfounded as he was racking his brain out for the past ten minutes just to produce absolutely nothing.

“Just how can you come up with rhymes this quickly?!”

“I was told you’re very fond of the art of poetry, so I’ve been studying a dictionary.”

For the first time ever since you met him, you noticed some softness in Hyunjin’s eyes. His usually sharp features were all relaxed while looking at you.

“For– For me?”

“Why, yes. We ought to take an interest in what makes the other happy.”

He jotted down the words you just uttered, and asked somewhat apprehensively.

“Do you have something like that?”

“Like what, my lord?”

“A craft. Or something you’re… fond of.”

“I’m very fond of cross-stitching,” you showed him the hoop in your hand, “In case it wasn’t obvious.”

“Ah, of course,” he chuckled sheepishly while scratching his nape, and attempted to change the subject, “Are you not going to give me the advice of the day?”

“Did you mean sermon by any chance?”

His expression suddenly fell. You didn’t mean to aggrieve him; you genuinely wanted to poke fun at the incident to convey that it was now a laughing matter for you. That all was forgiven. Hyunjin managed to surprise you once again, yet quite pleasantly this time around.

“I wholeheartedly apologize for my behavior back then. That was…” he was clearly struggling to find the words, “That didn’t suit me at all.”

“It’s fine,” you squeezed his hand over the table, “I mean it. Water under the bridge.”

He smiled in relief. If smiling suited one person in the entire world, that would be Hyunjin. Even when it was dark, he somehow managed to brighten up the whole entire place with those dimples of his, which were only visible when he smiled from the heart.

“So?” he looked at you with big eyes, “What does a true man do for his lady?”

You inadvertently chortled at the way he was looking at you so innocently as if he was a puppy asking for forgiveness for the mess it caused.

“A true man isn’t afraid to please his lady. In every way he can,” you told him while busying yourself with your embroidery, “You should regale her. Humor her. Make her smile. Laugh even. Using terms of endearment for her would be the first step.”

A shadow passed through Hyunjin’s face all of a sudden. He scooted closer to you, and to your complete astonishment, held your hands in his.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

You didn’t understand where that was coming from as you had just reassured him everything was fine between you.

“I told you, it’s water under th—”

“Not… not for that,” he shook his head, “I never asked you your name.”

His eyes… You had never seen his beautiful doe eyes this remorseful. Your heart sizzled in your chest and it hurt so much that it would have been preferable if someone poured boiling hot oil over it.

“It’s Y/N, my lord.”

He mouthed your name and smiled to himself contently. Then he momentarily checked his watch and immediately panicked, jumping to his feet.

“Going out again?”

“It’s– It’s not… It’s not that I want to go. I just… I have prearranged plans. I’m supposed to meet my friends today. We had promised that—”

“It’s okay, my lord,” you reassured him, “I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

While he was making his way inside, Hyunjin turned around at the last second.

“Thank you, darling.”

To say that you were electrocuted would be a massive understatement. Not only was it completely startling, but at the same time… You felt something in your heart that was desperately trying to fly. You didn’t know for how long you stayed on that bench after your makeshift husband left.

On his way to meet his friends, Hyunjin caught a glimpse of something colorful at some haberdasher. Without giving it much thought, he made his way in and bought a bunch of floss in different colors. Teals, baby pinks, pastel blues… Quite happy with his purchase, he made his way towards the downtown tavern while whistling along the way.

Man did he get drunk that night. Rather than trying to drink his troubles away, Hyunjin got the pleasant kind of intoxicated for once. Laughter, friendly banter, an overall good time that catalyzed his cheery haze.

He was pretty much aware of how drunk he was when he returned home, but he still wanted to give you the floss before collapsing on his bed. Although it was pretty late, on his way inside he noticed the dim lights coming from the bathhouse. It was a pretty peculiar incident as no one in this house bathed at this hour. Succumbing to his curiosity, his feet dragged him towards the window adorned with the brightest candle lights.

And when he peeked inside…

The bathhouse was basically a heated indoor pool. There was a lot of vapor inside fogging the scene, but Hyunjin was still able to discern that it was you. Completely naked and submerged under the warm water.

The only naked body he had seen until that day was his own. Now that he was in the presence of yours…

It was simply… beautiful.

Your head was resting against the edge of the bath and your eyes were closed. You seemed to be breathing heavily for some reason. Were you in distress? Did you need some help by any chance?

“Hyunjin…”

Did he hear that correctly? That couldn’t possibly be right. He must have been so drunk that he was hearing things, right?

Right?!!

“Hyunjin, please…”

No, it wasn’t a coincidence. You had said it again. All of a sudden, he felt himself get uncomfortably hard under his slacks. He unfortunately knew how good it was going to feel if he touched himself, but he couldn’t abuse his body. He wasn’t supposed to. It was a sin. It was the impure thoughts in his head and the lust in his heart that was the sin.

“Touch me, Hyunjin,” your voice reverberated through the hall, “Call me darling again.”

Touching you. Like he did that day. Would that cause the same tremors in you as he felt under you? If he touched you, would you feel like you were dying, too? Would you… Would you be willing to commit unspeakable sins with him because he was more than willing to knock on hell’s door with you.

But…

You were his wife for an entire month, weren’t you? Which meant… which meant if he acted on lust, it wasn’t going to be—

“Oh, god, Hyunjin!!!”

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help his body folding in half when you moaned his name like that. Untouched. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his throat, either, which instantaneously alerted you.

“Hello?”

Hyunjin ducked under the window and bolted towards his room, trying to camouflage himself between the trees and bushes. His heart was about to burst through his ribcage when he finally threw himself into the safety of his room.

When you looked towards the window, on the other hand, there was no one, but that sound that caressed your eardrums just now was eerily reminiscent of Hyunjin’s voice.

Hyunjin never knew it was possible to see a demon dream while wide awake, but from that moment on, he was painfully aware of how much trouble he was in. It was going to be simply impossible not to have a violent visceral reaction just to hearing your beautiful voice uttering his name.

Day 12: Communication

Call me darling again.

Hyunjin was convinced he was going insane.

Ever since he caught a glimpse of you under that bathhouse fog, his mind was infested with the thoughts of you. He was seeing you in his dreams every day and he hated himself for it because they were those demon dreams again. He was doing unspeakable things to you in his subconscious every night, but…

Call me darling again.

You seemed to like it when he touched you. You made delectable sounds of pleasure and pulled him close and kept saying ‘More’. You clearly couldn’t get enough of him as much as he was unable to get enough of you. He wanted that feeling to last forever. Wet. Hot. As irresistible as it could be. The most beautiful temptation.

Call me darling again.

‘Almost there,’ you were saying. ‘Almost there. I love you, my treasure. I want you. Call me darling again. Consume me. Eat me alive. Almost… there!!!’

But every single time, Hyunjin woke up right before he was able to fully satisfy you. It was messing with his head big time because he was convinced the reality of the marital bed would be exactly like that. He was feeling too self-conscious about it, maybe irrationally so, but still…

Call me darling again.

He didn’t even know how he got there. He only became aware that he was at your door when he noticed his hand was rolled into a fist to knock on it.

“Yes?”

When Hyunjin peeked inside, he saw you by the little corner of your room again, seemingly waiting for him with a bottle of cognac this time.

“Can I come in?”

“Please, my lord. It’s an honor,” you stood up as he walked towards you, “I think I already know the answer, but still, would you like a drink?”

“Actually, yes. Thank you.”

Surprises. Little ones. Hyunjin seemed to have a lot of those lately. Contrary to his usual aloofness, he seemed almost… nervous that night.

“I recommend a piece of chocolate with this,” you pushed a saucer-like small plate in front of him, “It really elevates the t—”

“I saw you.”

You looked at him slightly confused when he interjected out of nowhere.

“Where, my lord?”

“At the bathhouse,” he spoke examining the patterns on the table cloth. Looking you in the eye was simply going to cause him to combust, “Doing things… to yourself.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t even know what came over you that night. When he said darling right before he left the house, the tone of his voice, the smile he flashed for you then, the faint glimmer of mischief in his eyes… Something had shifted in you. You couldn’t stop thinking about what other beautiful expressions he was hiding from you the entire day. And when you finally surrendered to a blanket of warm water relaxing you to that extent, Hyunjin’s imagery insisted on clinging to your eyelids and refused to leave.

So you weren’t imagining things when you thought you heard Hyunjin’s voice in the vicinity that night. You wondered how long he was standing there and what exactly he saw.

“Did it… displease you?”

“No.”

“Then why the shadow on your beautiful face, my lord?” you gently touched his cheek, “Why are you frowning?”

He wasn’t frowning per se; this is just how his face manifested the sentiment of burning alive. Even the cold showers he frequently took didn’t seem to put it out. Even the cool evening breezes that brushed his hair were to no avail. He didn’t even know why he brought it up. It wasn’t like he was expecting anything. In a momentary lapse of sanity, he just blurted out the only thought that occupied his mind as of late.

“Being husband and wife does not automatically grant one the power of reading their spouse’s mind, my lord,” you held his hand over the table, “You shouldn’t assume things. You need to talk to each other, even talk each other through things sometimes, and explore together. Marriage is a neverending journey of learning,”

He finally made eye contact with you, but the meaning hidden in his gaze wasn’t quite discernible. It could be interpreted as many things. A bit of sorrow, longing for something unknown, patches of impatience, and…

“It might be makeshift, but I’m still your wife. You ought to tell me what you desire. Openly.”

“And you’re going to do it no questions asked?”

“Of course not. I shall tell you if I have my doubts about it, and you shall respect it, but it’s a two-way street.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning if you have doubts about what I ask of you, I shall respect it, too, and not insist.”

Hyunjin examined your hand on his for some time, then scooted closer to you.

“Then kiss me.”

If a bolt of lightning struck at that very spot at that very moment, it would have still been less shocking for you. The way he said it with so much intention… It painted Hyunjin in a completely different color in your eyes. All of a sudden, he felt ten times more manly than some self-proclaimed neighborhood machos you knew.

“My lord…”

“It’s Hyunjin,” he brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I’m your husband, darling.”

Your heart started beating in your ears when he uttered that word again. You could feel the blood rushing to your face and you wanted to freaking die.

“Kiss me,” he started leaning into your face, “Just once.”

One kiss. What harm could possibly come out of it, right?

Everything. It could derail every single thing you thought you knew.

When you pressed your lips on his, you could swear you were able to feel his heartbeat within you. Crazy. Rabid. Dangerously escalating. But it wasn’t enough.

You took those perfectly plush pair of flesh in your mouth to feel him more. The more you moved your lips, the deeper he invaded you. You tasted the mixture of cognac and chocolate on his tongue, but Hyunjin tasted better than any alleged aphrodisiac. A natural kisser. A natural lover. Naturally passionate.

“I know your condition was that you wouldn’t lay with me,” he spoke with his eyes closed, “And I’m not asking to, but I desire… I so desire to…”

You examined his face to figure out what he was trying to say so that you could help him get it out. He wanted something from you, but he was clearly embarrassed by it. You brazenly uttered the first thing that came to your mind.

“See my womanhood?”

“Not just that.”

He didn’t even hesitate when he said it. Not just that. Then what the hell else?

Hyunjin poured a glass of cognac for himself and hit it like it was liquid courage. When his insides burned like that, it allowed him much less space to overthink.

“I desire to watch you,” he confessed as he almost slammed the glass on the table, “Doing what you did the other night.”

You didn’t even know how to properly respond to that for it caught you so off guard. You could dare say no, but he was already stripping you with his eyes anyway.

“In front of you?”

“Yes. As your husband, I want to watch.”

Hyunjin’s sudden audaciousness with his eyes ablaze like that… It didn’t simply arouse you.

It set your soul on fire.

Without saying anything you gently grabbed his hand and stood up, guiding him to the bed with you. Every night you slept there, it felt so extravagantly big, but with Hyunjin right next to you, the size felt just right.

As you leaned against the headboard, Hyunjin crawled towards the middle of the bed and laid down on his side, propping up on his right elbow. You pulled the skirt of your dress up but refused to take your clothes off. Only your legs were naked up to your thighs, and the fabric of your dress was pooling between your legs.

“You can feel me under my skirt if you like.”

Hyunjin had dreamed about this for so long that he was having such a hard time believing this was indeed real. Clothed or not, it was still your most intimate part. Sensitive. Delicate. Probably tasted like heaven. And you were giving him permission to satisfy the maddening itch in his brain.

“R-really?”

“You’re curious, aren’t you?” you brushed his cheeks with your thumb, “Don’t be shy, handsome.”

“You think I’m… handsome?”

“Very much so,” you softly chuckled, “but I’m sure you are already aware of this.”

“No woman has ever called me that before.”

“That’s just not true!”

“No, really,” he insisted, “I’m not lying.”

“Do you feel uncomfortable when I call you that?”

“No,” a smile threatened to cling to the corners of his mouth, “I like it very much.”

“Well, here’s a little sermon for you,” you ran your fingers through his hair, “When a husband and wife are being intimate, they should call each other with loving addresses. It’s beautiful and makes the experience much more enjoyable.”

“Can I call you whatever I want?”

“As long as it’s loving,” you slowly reached for his hand and guided it between your thighs under your dress, “Touch. But don’t rush it.”

Hyunjin locked his eyes with you as his hand slowly disappeared under your skirt. He flinched in his place when his fingertips finally met the fabric of your undergarments. It felt warm to the touch. He instinctively started caressing you and while doing so, he noticed something out of the ordinary.

“It’s… getting wet,” he looked at you with inquisitive eyes, “Is that a good thing?”

You nodded.

Hyunjin’s slender fingers brushed against your inner thigh, and he inadvertently started silently groaning.

“Can I kiss this spot?” he very lightly squeezed the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh.

You nodded.

He lowered himself to be on eye level with your core, still hidden behind your skirt. But your thighs… They were out in the open. To be kissed by him. His thumb was still caressing your pussy over your undergarments, staining the fabric more and more with the slick you were secreting. When he finally pressed his lips on your skin, it felt so electric that you jolted in your place.

“Darling,” he whispered against you, “Oh, darling, you’re… you’re so…”

Kisses. Many of them. On your thighs. On your legs. Continuous friction on your pussy no matter how masked. You closed your eyes and started moaning.

“Does it feel good when I move my hand like that?”

“Mhm,” you contently sighed, “It feels just like the way you feel when you pleasure yourself.”

Hyunjin was flushed from head to toe already watching you from that up close, but your words somehow darkened the blush on his cheeks even more. You stopped his ministrations when he didn’t react and leaned into his face instead.

“You do pleasure yourself, right handsome?”

By then, you knew exactly what it meant when Hyunjin kept his silence. You held the hand he was caressing you with and brought it to your lips.

“When you’re away from your lady, you might feel these urges creeping in. You have to know how to take care of yourself so that you won’t fall victim to temptation. Fidelity is one of the utmost virtues of a true man.”

You pecked the fingers he was rubbing you with and then stole another kiss from his full lips. You looked right into his eyes when you asked the question that nudged him towards insanity a bit more.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

It was obvious how he was dying to say yes, but he was simply unable to utter that hardest fucking syllable of the language. You stroked his cheek with the back of your fingers and gave him an easy way out.

“Kiss me if you want me to.”

Immediately. With no hesitation. Yes, that kiss pleaded. Yes. A thousand times yes.

“You can ask your lady to do this for you, too,” you pulled him towards the headboard, “It’s not solely to be enjoyed when you’re alone.”

You started to leisurely unbutton his shirt. It was actually kind of cute how nervous he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him with a soothing voice, “It’s just you and me. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

You peeled the silk layer that hid him from you and what you saw was utterly mesmerizing even under those flickering candlelights. You gently pushed his chest for him to lay down, and Hyunjin was unable to look away from you the entire time as if he was hypnotized. You proceeded to take his trousers off, and soon enough, he was bare for you. In all his glory. Impossibly gorgeous.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I feel very privileged to see you like this,” you smiled at him, “Did you know you’re beyond beautiful?”

“Did you know beauty is in the eyes of the beholder?” Hyunjin placed a kiss on your hand. You couldn’t help the giggle you let out.

“Now close your eyes. Get comfortable,” you instructed him, “Do you happen to think about impure things every once in a while?”

“I– I know I shouldn’t but—”

“It’s okay. We are not fully in control of our thoughts, after all. They might occasionally pop into your mind,” you spoke almost in a whisper, “You will need those when you’re by yourself anyway.”

You took his hand and wrapped it around his girth, demonstrating a rhythmic motion to repeat.

“Caress yourself,” you laid down next to him and started speaking into his ear, “Now tell me. What are you thinking about?”

Hyunjin’s breathing started getting heavier when you came that close. He wasn’t in pain, but those moans were just forcing themselves out of him. It felt strange. A nice kind of strange. Addictive almost.

“I think about… about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

You lightly squeezed him over his hand, urging him to do the same every once in a while. His precum had pooled around his slit so densely that one drop of it trickled down his length like an ice-filled glass sweating under a hot summer day.

“Your– your silhouette…” he gulped thickly, “At the bathhouse.”

“Only that?” you pressed him for more details, “Don’t you ever think about doing things to me?”

Hyunjin was dying of embarrassment, but it felt incredibly good at the same time. His cheeks were flushed pink in a shade very close to the tip of his cock, and beads of sweat started appearing on his forehead.

“In my… dreams.”

“Do you see me in your dreams?”

“Yes.”

“What am I doing in your dreams, darling?”

When you started stroking him faster, Hyunjin’s moans became louder. His chest was heaving much more frequently and you could see how tightened his balls were already.

“More,” he panted, “You say more to me.”

“Are you fucking me in your dreams?”

“Ah, yes!” he squeezed his eyes tighter as if he was in pain, “And it feels too good, but I can’t… I can never get you to…”

Any skin-to-skin contact with you was already enough to blow his fucking mind, but when your fingers were wrapped around Hyunjin’s like that, guiding him, showing him what self-release looked like, of course it would cause him to rethink his entire existence. Of course it would make him want to commit fucking suicide in your hands.

“Why… Why does it feel—?”

“Tell me, gorgeous. What does it feel like?” you kissed his temple.

“I’m so lightheaded. I think… I think I’m going to faint.”

“No, you won’t. You’re going to have an orgasm,” you smiled when his breathing got even more labored, “But not right away. Control it. Relish this feeling.”

You slowed his rhythm way down so that he could calm down a little. When his breathing became somewhat stable, you picked it up where you left off.

“The more you prolong it, the better it will feel,” you caressed his hair with your other hand, “You’re doing great. You’re doing perfect, gorgeous. A little more now.”

“Kiss me, darling,” he begged desperately almost like a prayer, “For the love of god, I’m so overwhelmed, please kiss me!”

You kissed him, but you weren’t about to give him everything at once. Every time you took his lips between yours, you slowed him down and only started stroking him again when you moved away.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

And finally, fucking finally you were able to see his true colors after edging him for that long. Hyunjin was clawing the bedsheets out of sheer frustration, and you couldn’t bring yourself to torture the man any longer.

“I’ll finish you now, okay?” you informed him with a calm voice that was the complete opposite of your fervent ministrations, “Always ask if you can ejaculate on your lady. It’s only polite. Show her how much you need her. Ask for mercy. It will elicit a definite yes if you plead.”

“Please, darling,” Hyunjin snapped his eyes open and held onto you like he was holding on for dear life, “Please can I… God, PLEASE!!!”

“Yes,” you whispered into his ear, “A hundred times, a thousand times, yes.”

You swiftly made your way down on a whim and shoved his painfully hard cock down your throat. The second your tongue swiped against his skin, Hyunjin came so hard that he was almost knocked out of consciousness. You let him. You let him unload into your mouth as much as he wanted. You let him ride out the highest waves of pleasure, relishing his taste on your tongue all the while.

“Can I– I want to– for… for you.”

“Sleep now,” you placed a kiss on the crown of his head, “Maybe some other time.”

As you attempted to get up from the bed, Hyunjin mustered all the remaining strength left in his body and pulled you into his embrace.

“Into me.”

You let him. You let him hug you from the back and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You let him wrap his arms around your waist. You let him sleep on this bed with you that night.

“Good night, my night sky,” he sleepily mumbled into your ear.

You felt something tingle in your chest as if something sizzling hot splashed on it. A part of you felt joy, a part of you felt at peace, but another and much bigger part of you was incredibly confused. Almost guilty. Way to refuse to lay with him.

How fucking weak could you get? you castigated yourself.

Day 15: Sharing

I am willing To forfeit everything To feel your skin On mine again.

“Life is supposed to be shared, my lord,” you spoke to Hyunjin as he was scribbling something in his little notebook on the kitchen table, “Invite your lady for a conversation about your daily affairs and your business. In return, ask her how her day was, and do not settle for ‘Fine’ as an answer.”

You had asked Jaehyun to borrow the kitchen that afternoon so that you could cook some of Hyunjin’s favorites for him. When Hyunjin saw what you were doing, he brought out a handsome bottle of wine from the cellar and suggested having dinner out in the garden. He asked if he could watch you cook, and you agreed.

“Inquire. Make it clear you’re actually interested in the mundane details of her life and that they are not at all mundane to you. Help her, when you can, with her wifely duties. It doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

“How so?”

“Join her in the kitchen, for example,” you playfully smiled and offered him a copper ladle, “Walk her through your day while preparing a meal together.”

“Hang on one second,” he ran through the door that led to the garden and disappeared into the lush greens.

When he came back about ten minutes later, he was holding a bouquet of daisies in his hand that looked like they were freshly picked. He put them in a bottle to serve as a vase and placed it on the dinner table to serve as a centerpiece. Then he took a singular daisy from the bunch and attached it to your hair.

“For you, darling.”

It was such a simple gesture, but the impact it had on you… Your heart didn’t flutter; it fucking combusted in your chest.

“So, how was your day today?”

“Good, I’d say,” Hyunjin grabbed the ladle from you and started stirring the soup, “Preparatory school started today.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“It’s a small program of study you complete before transitioning into college,” he explained, “Father doesn’t want me to continue higher learning, but I’m taking them anyway.”

“That’s quite interesting,” you were genuinely intrigued by his news, “What are you studying?”

“Basically a survey of world literature.”

“Of course, I should have known,” you burst into heartfelt laughter, “Here, try this.”

You offered him a piece of seasoned mussels you prepared as an appetizer, and his lips touched your fingers while trying to eat it from your hands. It was mussels for fuck’s sake, probably the least sexy food to ever exist, but you felt an intense surge of arousal coursing through your body when he refused to break eye contact with you. As if he was doing it… on purpose.

“This is exquisite,” he finally uttered with a smirk on his face.

It could be either because you used the best ingredients money could buy or because you prepared this table with Hyunjin, but you had the best dinner of your life, talking about this and that, getting tipsy together, and losing the sense of all reality in the meantime. For a second there, it really felt like he was your husband and you were just having dinner after a long, hard day.

What was scarier was the fact that this thought didn’t bother you at all.

“So sharing drinks with my lady is important too, huh?”

“Very much so. It’s one of those things that puts you on equal ground. A sign of mutual respect, if you ask me,” you uttered while carrying the empty plates back to the kitchen, “But it’s not the act of drinking itself. It’s the conversation you share over it that makes it taste so sweet.”

You placed everything in the sink and were about to start doing the dishes when Jaehyun basically chased you away from the kitchen, saying it was outrageous that you would even consider doing it. After a lot of bickering, you raised the white flag and agreed to retreat to your chambers while Hyunjin watched the whole thing in a laughter fit. As you were passing by his room, Hyunjin tugged on the hem of your sleeve to stop you.

“Would it be okay if…”

You looked at his face with an encouraging nod. That combined with the liquid courage he downed glass after glass in the garden with you helped him spill the beans much more easily this time around.

“...if we slept in our bed again?”

“You want to spend the night with me?”

He nodded in response with his eyes on the marble floor as if he was scared to look you in the eye. The rational part of you wanted to refuse since you clearly remembered how much the feeling of longing lingered when he left the next day. On the other hand, the extremely irrational part of you loudly yelled, Well, this is still part of his learning, and you readily accepted it as your excuse.

“Of course,” you smiled at him, “Please bring your nightwear.”

He broke into a very bright smile and dashed into his room to gather his belongings. Shortly after, there he was again. Alone with you in the privacy of four walls.

“What scents do you fancy, my lord?” you asked him as you were walking into the room, which seemed to confuse him a bit.

“Why all of a sudden?”

You reached the edge of the bed as you peeled your cardigan off of you, and placed it on the bench.

“A man and his lady should freshen up for each other before they lay together,” you took two steps towards him, “This is the difference between sleeping next to each other and sleeping together.”

Besides that stolen moment in the bathhouse, Hyunjin had never caught a glimpse of your naked skin before. Now both your shoulders were out in the open, begging to be kissed by him, and it took an insane amount of willpower for him to look away as he answered.

“V-vanilla,” he loudly cleared his throat, “I also enjoy the scent of flowers.”

“Delicate taste of a fine man,” you knowingly smiled at him, “You can change behind the screen. Then come to the lavatory.”

You changed into your nightgown in there and let Hyunjin in once you were done. White looked so good on him. He was in simple nightwear but he still looked ethereal like an angel.

After going through a simple night care routine of brushing your teeth and hair as well as putting on lotion, you brought out a little box from a cabinet and took something that looked like a miniature glass bottle.

“How is this?” you let him smell the essence from the vial.

“Powdery,” Hyunjin observed, “I like it very much.”

“And this is sandalwood,” you brought another vial under his nostrils, “Do you like it?”

“Smells very fresh.”

“It does. Complements your skin very nicely if I might add,” you trickled a couple of drops on his wrist, and the powdery scent on yours, “Now we’re going to rub our wrists together and smear them behind our ears.”

Once you were done, you put the box away and started making your way towards the bed, but that ten-step distance seemed kilometers long to you. Your throat was dry and you were trying really hard to calm down your heartbeat for fear that Hyunjin could hear it when he laid down next to you.

“Any bedroom sermon I need to know?” he jokingly asked after getting into bed, and you reciprocated his smile.

“Once you lay, don’t forget to shower your lady with love,” you placed your arm under your head while turning to your side, “Kiss her. Embrace her. Don’t go to sleep before telling each other you love each other. A woman in love is the best asset a man can have.”

“You know, I noticed there seems to be a lot of things a man should do,” Hyunjin pointed out, “Shouldn’t a lady do the same things you tell me?

“Fret not. Once you do them, she also will,” you chuckled, “And do iterate you’re grateful for each other.”

“How so?”

“Like this,” you proceeded with your demonstration, “I’m very grateful to have you in my life, my treasure. You make me appreciate life more. You make me really happy.”

You tried to pass it as if you were saying a bunch of generic lines, thinking Hyunjin didn’t need to know that these were your genuine feelings. The change in his expression, however, didn’t seem like you were very successful in pretending. Because you said it. You said it for real this time. He didn’t imagine it; he heard you say it. You called him the one thing you were calling him in his dreams night after night, and hearing it spill from your lips with that much affection felt like a gutpunch for Hyunjin in the best sense of the word.

“Now you try,” you attempted to send away the silence trying to lay between you two.

“I’m very grateful to have you. In my life. In this bed. Right next to me,” he reached out to hold your hand, “I came to notice the little things in life thanks to your existence and it makes me very happy. You make me want to better myself for you.”

He wanted to crown the beautiful words that moved you to tears with a kiss, but you stopped him at the last second.

“My lord…”

“Please, darling,” he quietly pleaded, “I want to kiss my wife.”

You let him. You had no choice but to let him. The way he was still a little clumsy with it made you smile into his kiss. Taking courage from you, he smiled back. The way he looked into your eyes that lovingly pierced through your soul, and you had to do your utmost best to stop yourself from crying.

“Is it possible to fall for your spouse after you get married?” he asked while playing with your hair.

“By all means. Love doesn’t have an expiration date, my lord.”

“Please call me by my name,” he appealed, “At least here. In our bed.”

“Love doesn’t have an expiration date, Hyunjin,” you emphatically uttered his name with a smile. He smiled back and kissed your hand.

“I love you, darling.”

You felt like you were falling from a fifty-story building when he said that, knowing damn well that this meant nothing. You quite literally just told him not to go to sleep before telling his lady that he loved her, and he was simply exercising it. There was no meaning behind it. There couldn’t have been. There shouldn’t have been.

Then why did your insides twist and turn when he uttered those three cursed words while looking at you like that?

“I love you, too,” you attempted to say as nonchalantly as you could.

He kissed you again, but the shade of it was quite different this time. The first one was loving. Tender. This one felt eager. Passionate. Like a magnet pulling you in. As your kiss was deepening, you started touching each other under the covers until Hyunjin abruptly stopped himself.

“Are there… any other ways that I can… I can please my lady without… without…”

“Trespassing?” you cocked a brow, somewhat endeared by the way he put it.

He enthusiastically nodded while still panting, his hands still on your face. You placed a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose before answering.

“Yes, there is.”

“Then teach me,” he eagerly propped up on his elbows.

I shouldn’t have drunk that much tonight, you thought to yourself for there was a huge blank space where your willpower should have been. You found it impossible to say no to Hyunjin.

“I think I should show you something else first,” you guided him to lie on his back. He was keenly watching your every move with curious eyes, anticipating what you were going to do next.

You lifted his top up just enough to reveal his chiseled abdomen and started placing little kisses on him. Then you started making your way down. And down. And down. The thin layer of linen covering his body was making his growing bulge much more prominent. He might as well have been fully naked under you since it left very little to the imagination when his cock twitched every time you kissed him. You kissed him over his nightwear bottoms first. Then over his undergarments once you got rid of them. Then directly his skin once you got him completely bare for you from the waist down. Beautiful. Beautiful. He was so freaking beautiful that this should have been considered a fucking crime.

“If you feel like it, it’s okay to use profanities,” you encouraged him, “Your lady would actually appreciate that.”

“W-why?”

“It’s a sign of extreme arousal,” you made yourself comfortable between his legs, “It means you’re so overcome with your desire for her that you’re willing to cast all your manners aside and become as primitive as you can be.”

“But I– I can’t.”

“Trust me, you’re going to.”

You wrapped your hand around his delicious girth and guided him into your mouth as if you were a marionette controlled by someone else. You were acting on pure instinct with no shred of rationality to be found in a single bone of yours. The moment his cock met the excessive wetness of your mouth, he jerked in his place and sharply inhaled due to intense pleasure.

“Oh, Jesus fucking CHRIST, what are you doing to me, darling?!”

“I’m loving you,” you placed his hands on your head to have him guide you, “I’m loving you to death. Control me.”

He could cum to this. He could die to this. Nothing ever felt this consuming, not even what you did to him a couple of days ago in this very bad. Losing all control he had, Hyunjin felt himself spiraling and started to slowly grind against you while moving your head to the same rhythm. The deeper you took him and the wetter you got him, the louder, the more guttural, and the more frequently he moaned under you. It took less than two minutes until he erupted into your mouth, squirting string after string of his cum down your throat.

“Better than your dreams, isn’t it?” you wiped your mouth with a grin on your face, “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

“Teach me how to do this for you.”

“Maybe some other t—”

“No,” he swiftly sat up in his place and held your face between his hands, “Teach me. Right now. I’m willing to do anything.”

There was something burning in his eyes, and it was impossible to go unnoticed. It was a magnificent thing to witness, seeing him transform into a man made of pure desire right before your eyes, but you knew you needed to put it out. Before… Anyone got hurt.

“Hyunjin, don—”

“I want to be able to get you to give in to me,” he held your face between his hands, “Comfortably. I want you to feel safe when you do so.”

“You mean, your lady.”

It was only at that moment he noticed the true object of his sentences. It wasn’t the realization that he might be making assumptions about you that embarrassed him, but rather…

It was the discovery of the true object of his affection.

“Yes. My lady,” he gulped and briefly averted his eyes from you, “So teach me.”

You’re asking for it, you thought to yourself, It’s beyond my control at this point. You’re fucking asking for it.

“Fine,” you complied with his request and laid down next to him. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was simply ecstatic to witness what was about to unfold.

“This is an art, if I may say so. Not many men are skilled at it,” you informed him with a soft voice, “But if you can master this, you’ll basically own her soul.”

“Own her soul?” he raised his brows, utterly amazed, “Is this better than…? Well, you know.”

“It depends on the person, but I personally think it’s the best thing,” you answered his question, “It’s important to take your time, but don’t hesitate to get sloppy if you feel like it. This is the only kind of eating where all manners should go out the window.”

You slowly slid your undergarments down your legs and spread your legs for him. Hyunjin gulped very thickly as he watched you and slithered between your legs. The sight itself was so damn overwhelming that it led him to contort his face in absolute delight.

“It’s… It’s so pretty,” he ghosted his hand over your folds, slick with arousal.

You watched him watch you in utter fascination for a moment. Then you watched your own hand reach out to his head and slowly undo the silk ribbon tying his even silkier hair in a half ponytail. It fell down to his shoulders like a crystal clear waterfall. He turned to his side and kissed the hand that set him free.

“This is where I’m most sensitive,” you brushed your fingers on your clit and then ran them through his hair, “You know how you would lick the soft ice cream on a hot day to soothe your insides? Lick it just like that.”

Hyunjin felt like he was about to sit for the ultimate test, a rite of passage to manhood so to speak. If he managed to induce in you the intense feeling you just induced in him, if he could prove that he was indeed able to satisfy you, that would maybe change something in you.

And you would stop deflecting things maybe.

He licked a long drag from your entrance up to your clit, smearing your arousal everywhere, and started giving little kitten licks on it first. You were quietly moaning, but moaning nevertheless. It had to be a good sign.

Soft ice cream on a hot day.

A need. There needed to be a need. A desperate one to satisfy a fundamental urge. To relieve yourself.

Ice. Cream. Ice but as a cream.

He closed his plush lips on your clit and started gently sucking on it, and you let out a sharp moan upon the contact.

“Do you like the way I do it?”

Did you like the way he did it? Did you? You gave him one instruction and he was following it to a T like a teacher’s pet. And the fact that he was acing it already? Being nothing less than a star student? This willing to please? This eagerly?

“You’re… You’re fucking amazing, just… How?!”

Hyunjin was so damn proud of the reaction he was able to elicit out of you. Even more so that he got you to curse like that. It’s a sign of extreme arousal, you had told him. So he was arousing you. Extremely. Until your eyes rolled back.

“So beautiful,” he pecked your pussy, “So pretty. I’ll always stay this hungry for you, I promise.”

He switched to licking your clit again, this time swirling his tongue around it. With need. So much need. It was like he was trying to please himself rather than pleasing you. With each circle he drew on you, you were dripping more and more, staining Hyunjin’s chin as well as the sheets under you.

“Like that. Right–right there!” you spread your pussy lips further to give him more access to your clit, “Kiss me. Suck on me until my taste becomes more intense in your mouth.”

Maybe he didn’t need further instructions. Maybe you were going to cum violently to those huge puppy eyes anyway. Maybe he needed to fucking cut it off before you married his fucking pretty face off or something.

“Keep cursing at me,” he whispered against your folds, “That’s so fucking erotic. Keep doing it.”

You were so overwhelmed with arousal that you were riding his face by then. Just looking at his perfect lips wrapped around you, kissing you, sucking on you, it was enough to drive you insane. Clinically.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you pressed his face deeper into you, “Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK, RIGHT THERE!!!”

He was losing himself between your legs, eyes closed, kissing you deeply just like he was kissing your lips, hands wrapped around your thighs and squeezing them every once in a while. He was mumbling inaudible things into your soaked cunt and every single time it made you tingle harder.

“I love your scent. I love your taste. I love your skin,” he placed a kiss on your pussy after every sentence like a full stop, “I love you, darling. I love your everything.”

You were dying in his mouth. This was nothing less than a crime of passion, hot-blooded murder solely aimed at ripping your soul out of you.

“You should moan like that for me every night. You should let me love you until you forget who you are,” he wiped his mouth on your thighs, “You should ask me to love you whenever you crave me. I’ll come rushing.”

You were on the ledge, looking down at the cliff you were about to jump into. All you needed was the gentlest push and he was going to crush you into pieces.

“I’m addicted to you, darling,” he whispered and closed his mouth on your pussy completely.

“Hyunjin!!!”

You violently thrashed under him as your back arched, and he watched you cum like he was witnessing a miracle. He kept kissing your body everywhere until you were able to breathe normally again.

“I want to do it one more time.”

“You– you don’t have t—”

“I want to,” he insisted, “Again. Please.”

You caved. Who were you to say no to this absolute young god between your legs, desperately after gratifying you once again? Who the fuck were you to deny him permission to pleasure you out of your mind? You let him. You let him glide his tongue on your clit with more precision this time. You let him spell his name on your slick folds like he was signing a forever-binding contract with no way out. You let him play jumprope with your sanity, switching between reality and afterlife however the fuck he pleased. You watched him taste you like he was starving, but savoring every drop like there would be no more servings. You listened to him whisper sweet nothings into you again. You tugged on his soft hair as you were climbing towards your climax again. You came into his mouth as he slurped on you again.

“Again.”

“Hyunjin, I’m– I’m going to pass out.”

“No, you won’t. You won’t,” he wiped his mouth drenched in your cum and tasted you on his fingers, “Say yes. I’m learning here. Say yes to me.”

“Yes,” you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him to your face, “Yes, my treasure.”

Tasting yourself on his tongue had to be the most sensual thing you had ever experienced. It was the passion he was kissing you with that got you so dizzy. The way he touched you, felt you on his fingertips, the way he inhaled your scent and exhaled on your skin, his breath condensing on you like a layer of morning dew… You were completely drunk on him.

As he was kissing your soul out of you, his hand slithered down to caress your drenched folds, and his fingers were so long that he accidentally stimulated your entrance, causing you to jolt in abrupt pleasure.

“Ah, fuck.”

Hyunjin didn’t expect that at all. It felt like he somehow discovered some uncharted territory.

“Do you… like it?”

You had no idea why you suddenly became so embarrassed considering what he was doing to you for the past hour or so. You silently nodded, hoping he would think the flush on your cheeks was because of arousal rather than bashfulness.

“Is it… Is it okay if–?”

He gently prodded your soaking wet entrance to ask for permission. You got scared for a second there. If he was able to fly you out of your body with his tongue alone, who the fuck knew what he would do to you if he fingered you at the same time?

“Please?” he kept saying in between his kisses, “Can I please? Please?”

Oh, he knew. He knew you had lost your ability to say no to him when he relentlessly begged for something. You finally gave in and nodded, and Hyunjin’s excitement hit through the roof.

“Which one?” he showed his fingers to you.

“The middle,” you responded, trying not to die out of mortification.

As he smoothly slipped his finger inside, he could hear the wet sounds coming from your pussy, and if you thought you were overwhelmed, you could only guess what Hyunjin was feeling.

“Is this okay?” he examined your face to check how he was doing.

“Don’t rush,” you guided him with the minuscule amount of mental faculties you had intact, “Move your finger in and out. Slowly.”

He did exactly as he was instructed, admiring your pussy and relishing your sounds of pleasure as he kept stimulating you. You were so swollen inside. If you were this tight just around his finger, who knew how you would feel around his fully hard cock? Would you moan louder? Would you speak obscenities for how overcome you were with desire? Just thinking about how you would struggle to take all of him him forced his salivary glands to work at full capacity.

“Push one more finger. Hook them upwards,” you brushed his hair away to see his face better, “Pretend you’re gesturing me to come closer. There is a spongy texture inside me. Find it.”

It couldn’t get any more erotic than this. Hyunjin was listening to every word you uttered so seriously like you were giving him homework, and immediately putting it into practice as if he was trying to prove something to you.

Give me attention. Tell me what a good job I’m doing. Say how good I’m making you feel. Say it.

While he was busying himself with his quest, all of a sudden you were hit with the realization that you were letting Hyunjin fuck you. He was only using his fingers but he was fucking you nevertheless. When you clenched hard like that, it finally allowed him to spot his target.

“There!” you sat up on your elbows to watch him closely, “Right there! Now focus on it.”

He was scrutinizing every single change in your expression, studying what was making you pant that hard. When he started fingering you a measure faster, you clenched around him. You moaned louder. Your eyes rolled back.

“Do you like this?”

“Oh, I love this. I love the way you pleasure me,” you uttered in an ecstatic voice, “More. Give me more.”

This wasn’t a dream this time around. You said more, and he knew he could give you more. You had drawn the exact path he needed to walk on so that he could crumble you into dust, and he was struck with a terrific idea on how to end this.

“Hyunjin…”

“Say you love me.”

“Hyunjin…”

“Say you love me, darling.”

“I love you,” you tugged on his hair, “I fucking love you. Please!”

Oh, the way you said it… A desperate plea asking for mercy. And you meant it. He felt it in his bones that you meant it.

“I love you more, darling.”

He closed his mouth on your pussy and started lapping at your clit so fast that there was no way you could prepare yourself for your doom.

“Ah, Hyunjin!!!”

Even when you arched into him, even when you came all over his fingers, even when you collapsed on the bed contracting around him, Hyunjin didn’t stop and kept going with his frantic ministrations. You thought you could endure it, but you became so overstimulated that you were on the brink of sobbing, asking him to stop over and over again, but secretly wishing he never would. When he noticed the change in your reactions, something unfamiliar awakened in Hyunjin. He found the idea of you crying extremely arousing in some perverse way. You begging him to stop but only because it was too much pleasure than you could handle?

No pleasure was too much when it came to you.

“Again.”

“Please, I’m begging you,” you wiped the tears out of your eyes as he wiped your cum off his lips, “No more. I really can’t take it.”

He was partly disappointed that he didn’t get to do it again, but he was so content nevertheless. You were glowing because of him, and it was a fascinating thing to witness.

“I can get used to this,” he kissed your lips, “I can do this for you every night before you fall asleep in my arms.”

Your wits snapped back to your brain once he uttered that sentence.

“If you do, you’ll have the happiest marriage in the history of everything,” you played dumb as if you didn’t understand exactly what he meant. Hyunjin pulled you into his arms and kissed your hair before drifting off to sleep.

“I love you, my night sky.”

You felt something tingle in your chest as if something sizzling hot splashed on it, but this time, you chose not to dwell on the pain and let yourself be soothed in the comfort of his embrace instead.

“I love you, too, my moon,” you sunk deeper into his chest.

«TO BE CONTINUED»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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#bestie my entire immediate AND extended family are christians so this one hits diff🫠👀#i stopped attending church in like my early teens ?? but that shit is still so engrained in the back of my mind even tho i’ll be 24 soon #‘my night sky’ & ‘my moon’ ARE SO CUTE #‘my treasure’ just makes my brain immediately think of ateez LMAO #this was so good tho. the struggle hyunjin is having with his inner self and his beliefs is real asf and it sucks ass #hopefully throughout this he can find some common ground between both so he’s not constantly hating himself LMAO.#i’m so excited to see more of readers character and what their backstory looks like & why they’re so disconnected #(like yes ofc i know obvs on one hand it’s bc they were constantly changing ang training clientele at one point & they’d be fucked if they-#got attached to every single client. that’d just be straight up hell)#but i feel like there’s more to it than just staying distant from her trainees🤔 who hurt reader🤔#& DEAR GOD I HOPE HIS PARENTS GET AHOLD OF THEMSELVES CAUSE WHAT #WHY WOULD HE WANT TO MARRY YEJI🤔🫠 THEY GREW UP TOGETHER YES BUT I DONT SEE HOW THAT MEANS THEY SHOULD GET MARRIED OR BE IN LOVE LMAO #his mom seems 1% more reasonable than his dad but honestly not rly #AND HYUN WHAT HAPPENED TO THE FLOSS BESTIE WHERED IT GO🤔🥹#anyways ily this is superb as usual R🖤 be safe & i hope ur doing well !#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin angst

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

Text

CHARCOAL BLUES IN C MINOR

LEGEND 🖤Pairing · 📜Word Count · 🪐AU/Genre/Trope · 🚨 Warnings

🖤Hyunjin x (afab) Reader 📜23k | Approx. 1h 37-min read 🪐Jazz Age AU: Old-timey Romance, Angst, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Smut 🚨Reader discretion advised: Adult themes, strong language, impending forced arranged marriage, judgemental & suffocating societal/familial environment—premarital sex and loss of virginity is a no-no, depictions of class differences and old-school gender norms, physical altercation between fellas, depictions of a meltdown, demisexualism, (mutual) masturbation, (mutual) first times (kiss, sex), cum eating, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

SYNOPSIS Charcoal and straw papers. Piano keys and sheet music. A lighthouse and a speakeasy. Prestige and the lack thereof. A story of two souls falling deliriously in love despite everything that stood between them.

NOTES - This story has alternating POVs, and Hyunjin's POV is written in first person. - Written for @skzwritingcafe May/June event: Blossoming love🌸

Love doesn’t feed you. It never will.

A true lady was judged based on the elegance emitting from her wardrobe, her eloquence, her manners, and the lack of creases on her skin. That was phase one. Then she needed to learn how to play freaking chess with her femininity, and mind games training started as early as the age of sixteen.

Be subtle, never direct. Only insinuate. Be classy, never trashy. Learn the skills that will contribute to your added value.

The assigned roles had always been there. Esteemed women weren’t supposed to taint their perfectly manicured hands with manual labor like some commoner, but there was still a way for them to get a taste of prosperity. They weren’t much different than an overpriced gold watch if you thought about it, solely existing to adorn a big spender’s arm.

‘Rich’ is doomed to run out, but ‘wealthy’ is forever.

Therefore, starting from the second you turned legal, it was of utmost importance to be desirable by many, preferably by people of affluent descent, so that you could have your pick. There was nothing wrong with giving them the illusion that they could be the one to have you. Men lived to be a source of envy, after all.

Tease but never give in. Gently caress their egos until they’re about to burst. Make them dependent on you. Addicted even.

But you had to do it before you reached a certain age, of course. A double-edged sword, indeed.

Dignified women were never invited to be an active part of the cognac-induced laughter fits of men, but they were supposed to politely applaud their business triumphs while serving the cognac. If you had enough money to burn, you could afford to tell other women to serve the bitter drink to a room full of gentlemen in a lavishly-decorated guest room.

Otherwise, this gathering would take place at some club established solely for their pleasure. They were called Gentlemen’s Clubs, yet it was such a poor choice of a name since there was absolutely nothing gentlemanly going on inside.

But somebody had to do it. Somebody had to take on the monumental responsibility that was entertaining the married men of this town. Their wives took care of them, but they didn’t entertain them. That was why courtesanship was among the most well-paying jobs of this era despite all the trash talk revolving around it. You know, not much different than the beginning of time.

Of course it wasn’t considered cheating. Why would it? Burlesque entertainment was one of the finer pleasures in life only a select few got to enjoy. It wasn’t the patrons’ fault if the services included exchanging physical affection for money. Of course it wasn’t their fault.

Because this was a man’s world you were living in and courtesans were never going to be considered worthy of respect.

Much like everybody of your age, you were taught to be a suitor magnet, as well. Manners fully intact, knows how to gracefully regale, makes herself scarce when the brandy bottle is out, knows how to light up a cigar, also smoke one if need be. If you were paid money on top of all that, you would make one fine courtesan.

Minus the sex. That corset your mother made you wear to protect your virginity was complicating things a little.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust you; she didn’t trust anyone else. At least that was what she claimed. God forbid if you gave into the cravings of the flesh before marriage, what a tragedy it would be. Who would want a plum no matter how juicy and sweet when someone already took a bite from it? How would your mother be able to walk with her head held high ever again? How could you ever hope to attract well-off heirs, which seemed like the only way for you to close the monetary abyss you had recently learned that you inherited from your late father?

People would leave jewelry, antiques, or at the very least something of sentimental value to their children, and your share of family heirlooms was pain. A burden that wasn’t necessarily yours, but was passed on to you to take care of nevertheless.

Love doesn’t feed you. It never will.

Your mother would know. She just didn’t think it would change anything if you knew the reason why. She was resenting your father enough for the both of you anyway.

All the more reason why it frustrated the heck out of you that you were met with a firm ‘No’ every time you expressed your interest in working.

“And do what? Stick out among men and become a target? I’m not going to have you called a courtesan.”

“Mother, please listen…”

“My word is final. Do not bring this to me again.”

How was she this blind to her own contradictions? You weren’t allowed to make an honest living, but technically you were still expected to sell something.

You weren’t clueless. The day you had your first period, the loyal family aide Shima, who was more like a much older sister to you, told you all about a man’s serpent visiting a woman’s den and how much men liked it when the den was untouched.

“Are there untouched serpents too?”

“Serpents move by crawling on the floor, young lady. They touch by design.”

“But wouldn’t women like untouched serpents more? There would be less dirt.”

“They would maybe, but they can’t.”

“But why?”

“Because it’s not possible.”

“But why?”

“Because it’s just the way it is.”

“But why?”

“Okay, young lady, no more questions.”

Your ‘problem child’ tendencies also included hoarding knowledge like a dragon hoarding gold, but nobody needed to know about that. Intelligent women were nothing but anomalies that needed to be quarantined to prevent further spread, and amputated if need be. You needed to be dumb, dull, and live to please your husband. That was your job. Look pretty, act pretty, talk pretty, and charm people so that your husband could make money because this was a man’s world you were living in.

Then again, wouldn’t that make you the original business negotiator here? Wouldn’t that make you the breadwinner?

Goddamn men and their gatekeeping.

Among everything you were expected to master, you accidentally developed a severe passion for one of them. So much so that you fell head over heels in love with it.

Music.

You studied Chopin and Beethoven and Liszt and Mozart, and their pieces felt like fine china that needed to be treated delicately not to break. No mistakes allowed. Precise keystrokes. Gentlest bootcamp. Of course there were no ranks to be obtained at graduation because in what universe did women get to be sergeants? Nevertheless, you got this inexplicable kick out of being able to juggle those china cups with effortless finesse.

Other than playing your sorrows away, all you could do with your prowess was to entertain fancy crowds that may or may not have had your future husband among them. That was it. It was a skill to be traded in exchange for staying afloat.

Society might have branded this as manners training all it wanted, but for you, this was nothing short of being whored around.

And if your mother dared to ask for dowry, it would officially make her your pimp.

I’ve always had a problem staying still. I won’t bore you with the details of every single incident, but I never shied away from breaking a few rules here and there for the sake of being on the move. No, I’m not sorry, and I would do it all over again.

People use many different words when they talk about me. “Free spirit” is one of them. “Rascal” is another. Changbin says I’m also “easily moved” and teases me a lot for it, but that’s not true. I’ve never been easily moved; I’m just moved a lot when something manages to squeeze my soul, which doesn’t happen that often. There is a difference.

Changbin is my chosen brother, by the way, but I’ll get to it.

Our neighborhood was what the bourgeois called “the ghetto”, harboring people from many ethnicities. The living conditions might have been less-than-ideal, but we weren’t necessarily unhappy. I spent my entire childhood thinking we were living inside an everlasting carnival with all those different languages loudly spoken from door to door. Everybody laughed the same, though.

I left home with dad every morning. On his way to work, he would drop me off at our nextdoor neighbor Mr. De Luca’s barbershop. He had agreed to take me in as an apprentice after I begged him many many times. He was a magician with his scissors, and I really wanted to learn the tricks of the trade. He always said my hands were “way too dexterous” and I would have no problem earning a living with them. I didn’t understand what that meant at the time.

When my friends were back from school in the afternoon, we played football with soda caps in front of our building until dinnertime, and then everyone would go back home for their share of home-cooked meals. For us, it was just my old man and me, but the De Lucas frequently called us over for dinner.

I didn’t go to school. We weren’t able to afford it with the minimum wage my father was making, but I’m not illiterate. Mrs. De Luca taught me how to read and do math. Mr. De Luca taught me what it was to be a craftsman. My dad taught me to live passionately and I’m sure my mom would teach me a few things, too, if she were alive. We were missing a piece in our hearts, but I’ve never felt the absence of love in my life.

One day, Mr. De Luca’s nephew came to the shop to visit him. A young man by the name of Tiziano who looked about twenty years of age. He called me fratello. I loved how the word rang in my ear. He was such a handsome guy with a tall posture and tanned skin, and when he smiled at the ladies in our neighborhood, they would nudge each other and giggle a lot. I remember wanting to be like him when I became a man.

Tiziano was carrying a leather-bound folder with him. There were a lot of papers and a black stick inside. I still clearly remember the tingling sensation that started from my nape and traveled down my spine when he showed me what was on the papers. I felt like some invisible witch was casting a spell on me.

That was the moment I saw a charcoal drawing for the first time.

I begged my father for charcoal sticks and paper so that I could learn how to draw like Tiziano. Not to brag or anything, but my progress was quite fast. I’m not a genius by any means; I just don’t know how to like things. When something piques my interest, I obsess over it day and night. I lost sleep many nights trying to perfect the shading of an apple even though no one was putting a gun to my head. Mr. De Luca would scold me a lot on the mornings I was late to the barbershop because I overslept, but it wasn’t that big a deal. He would tell me not to do it again, knowing full well I would do it again. He hated the fact that he couldn’t stay mad at me for too long, calling me a ’fucking charming spawn of the devil’. I learned a lot of the curse words in my vocabulary from him.

When I saw Tiziano again in a few years, the ladies I smiled at were nudging each other and giggling at me, too. I showed him how much I improved with my very own leather-bound folder over dinner at Mr. De Luca’s, and he invited me to come back with him to Italy so that we could draw together. So that I could experience life. So that I could have a “broader horizon”, whatever the fuck that means. I agreed in a heartbeat.

The first time I saw a naked woman was at Tiziano’s studio in Rome. He was friends with a lot of streetwalkers, which gave me a chance to study the human body so that I could draw nudes. I remember the exchange I had with a very beautiful lady called Giulia when I was alone in the studio with her.

“Do I turn you on, Hyunjin?” she walked up to me while putting on her robe.

“You do.”

“If you want to fuck me, you can. I’m not gonna ask for any money.”

I shared my honest thoughts with her wrapped in a smile.

“But I’m not in love with you, Giulia.”

She laughed at my words for quite a while and pinched my cheek when her laughter died down. She said I was cute but an absolute fool. I couldn’t blame her. I knew people who would commit murders to be with a goddess like Giulia. Nevertheless, if not wanting to touch someone I don’t feel anything for other than lust makes me a fool, so be it. You can’t insult me with that. When I returned home, my virginity was still fully intact.

I always thought I would go on to become a barber myself, but my little European adventure left me aching for something more. I knew I wasn’t going to make it as an artist, and I still didn’t know what I wanted to dedicate myself to other than charcoal, so I opted for taking odd jobs here and there to maintain a living until I did. Whenever I have the time, I hang out at the pier, the square, the parks, and street corners because I enjoy peoplewatching a lot. I enjoy depicting raw as fuck shit through charcoal shadows. People kissing. A woman breastfeeding. The longing gaze of a young lad watching a girl knitting in the distance. It makes me happy.

But what made me happier was seeing you for the first time on a bench by the pier one afternoon as I was looking for something to draw.

You were just sitting there, gazing into the distance. You were so perfectly still besides the occasional sighs you heaved that it felt like you were sitting for a private sketch. I pretended that you were indeed modeling for me and tried my best to capture you in grayscale as fast as I could. Your drooped shoulders. Your resigned eyes. The intricately ornate jade comb in your hair.

I looked at that sketch a lot in the subsequent days.

I was so drawn to you for some reason. I wanted to sit next to you and ask why you were so sad. I wanted to ask if you liked candy apples. It would cheer anyone up, right?

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to intrude on your alone time with yourself despite the raging urge inside me to do so.

Then I noticed you were there again. And again. And again.

You’re at the pier every day.

You come at 12 PM sharp. You just sit there on your bench, having a silent conversation with the sea. An hour later or so, a woman that looks like your aide comes to pick you up and you leave with her. Every day you look a bit sadder. It wrenches my heart to see the gloom in your beautiful eyes.

Every day, I impatiently check my watch, and when the time nears the noon, I just bolt to the pier wherever the fuck I am to see you again.

I only draw with my charcoal, but you make me hear fucking colors. I don’t even know your name, but you’ve already become my muse. I go to bed every night praying for your happiness because I have never seen you smile. And I’m dying to witness it in its full glory.

If only I could steal one glimpse of your eyes looking at me. I know I’m probably going to lose it when and if that happens, but I’d love to hold some of your apparent heartache for you if it means you can rest a little easy.

One day… One of these days I’ll muster up enough courage to come sit next to you.

Please fix your posture, young lady.

Please eat slower, young lady.

Please do not laugh loudly and cover your mouth, young lady.

“To hell with being a lady!” you threw your pencil towards the corner of Practice Room VIII where you were all alone.

Yes, you were supposed to be ladylike, and by god, you could pretend to be one on cue, but you were on the brink of violently snapping and going on a rampage. You had less than zero interest in tea ceremonies or in how many different styles you could braid your hair. You wanted to learn marksmanship instead. You wanted to learn how to play pool. You wanted to do other things. As unladylike as they could be.

Like hell your mother would let you.

When you earned a full scholarship from The Institute of Fine Arts, obviously shots were fired in your household. It took a relentless battle of wits, but you refused to back down at any cost. Not when it came to music, not a chance. You eventually emerged victorious.

Because you happened to know about your mother’s biggest blind spot that was only supposed to be taken advantage of as a last resort.

Prestige.

Not only The Institute was notoriously selective, but only the ultra-elite were able to afford that monstrosity of tuition anyway. And you already making a name for yourself as the piano genius? Potentially befriending the crème de la crème of the high society in the meantime?

That had got to extinguish the protest fire.

And it indeed did. For quite a long while. Things were going a bit too well that you started getting suspicious, living in dread while anticipating the moment when it would all come crashing down.

The doomsday finally manifested itself in the form of your mother waltzing her way into the living room, interrupting your reading time with an unnecessarily high-pitched voice.

“Fan–tas–tic news!” she walked towards you on the couch with long and quick steps, “Look what just came in the mail.”

“My very own pumpkin carriage,” you quipped, expecting the joke to be stillborn, but your mother actually responded to you.

“Actually, yes!”

It was a burgundy velvet box she was ceremoniously holding in her hands as if it was a tray. When she opened it, you saw a fancy-looking envelope as well as a 24K golden shamrock pendant with drops of emeralds inside the leaves.

“A… necklace,” you observed, unimpressed.

“Guess who it is from. Guess!”

“I don’t know, mother. Just tell me.”

You had obviously lied. The O’Connor family was in the newspapers almost every day, and everybody in this town knew that shamrocks were basically their coat of arms. They were one of the highest-regarded people in the country, and it was mindblowing to you how they obtained that status while clearly being involved in some shady business.

No one ever got that rich that fast by doing something honest, and it didn’t take a genius to conclude that. The things people got away with if…

“Bridget O’Connor!” your mother squealed in utter excitement, “In her letter, she says she’s seen you perform at your year-end concert, and she’s officially asking your hand in marriage for her youngest son Ryan!!!”

Your heart didn’t only drop to your stomach; it hit every possible sharp edge along the way and almost bled to death. It was tragically ironic that such a beautiful and delicate piece of jewelry meant a life sentence for you.

“Don’t– Don’t I have any say in this?”

“This is no time to be joking, dear. It’s the O’Connors we’re talking about! Wear this. Wear it!”

“Mother…”

As she hurriedly put the shamrock on you, Shima watched you getting cuffed with big, concerned eyes. Being put on a leash. Being forced to wear a straitjacket. Whatever the hell you wanted to call it.

“Out of all the people you could impress… I’m so proud of you, dear!” your mother left a big kiss on the crown of your head. She had never once said she was proud of you for any of your achievements so far. Not even when you earned the top rank of your entire class year. She had never kissed you with that much affection before. You locked yourself in your room that night and cried yourself to sleep.

You were already living on a schedule. The time you got up, to have breakfast, for school, to come back home, for dinner, to go to bed… Everything was decided for you as if you were still a kid. You went to school at 9 AM. You had your lunch break at noon. Shima and your chauffeur picked you up to drive you back to school at 1 PM and you had your afternoon classes until 4 PM. Then you went back home.

You were enduring it, but you were just a ticking time bomb in the making.

The truth was when it was supposed to be your lunch break, you went to the pier instead. You never had lunch during that time. The knot in your throat that was the size of a fist wouldn't let you swallow anyway. You kept thinking about your impending doom.

What was it all for anyway? Once you got married, you were probably only going to be playing the piano for Ryan and whatever company he was going to have. Even the mere thought of it made you sick to your stomach. You wished there was a way for you to make good money with music so that you could tell people to leave you the fuck alone.

You only… wished.

But one of those days, you noticed something during a visit to the pier.

A young man sitting three benches away from you, seemingly drawing something. He was wearing a silver necklace with a cross pendant that gleamed under the sunlight. That was what attracted your attention in the first place anyway. Then you made the mistake of actually looking at his face.

It could not be possible for a human being to be this beautiful. It was criminal, to say the least. Perfect features on a perfect face that belonged to a perfect body. He put every living to shame. Did he know how blinding he was? Was he aware of his own beauty, or completely oblivious to it?

Judging by how nonchalantly he was crossing his legs on that bench, drawing away whatever was in front of him and not paying attention to anything else, it had to be the latter. But just… How?

You kept going back to the pier during your lunch hours, just hoping against hope that you would see him again. You never initiated a conversation with him; just knowing that he was there, keeping you silent company in the distance was enough for you. A part of you felt a little jolt every time you caught a glimpse of him, but even then it was short-lived. The second something warm started spreading in your chest, the screams of your ugly reality began to echo in your head again, and that unknown warmth dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

Yet, every time you walked away from the pier, you thought about the man with the silver chain. He was your only distraction from the reality. From having to get married. From the leash decorating your neck. From your mother’s incessant requests.

Eventually, the day you got vehemently sick of the military precision of your timetable arrived. One day, you decided to lie without even batting an eye at the dinner table, and if anybody asked, you could confidently say you had enough of having every single aspect of your life heavily scrutinized. You were your own person, too. You were entitled to your own life and decisions, too.

You were simply done playing this role you didn’t even audition for.

“I’ve been selected to perform at the Spring concert. It’s quite important as the Mayor’s family attends every year, so I have to practice.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie. There was a Spring concert, but the auditions weren’t even until the end of the month. Then again, nobody in your household needed to know about that.

“The Mayor?” your mother put down her fork loudly, “Does he attend with his wife only, or—?”

“They attend as a family, mother. To answer your actual question, yes, his sons are going to be there, too,” then you turned to Shima calmly, “Starting Monday, please come pick me up at 10 PM instead. That’s when my practice sessions will end.”

“Isn’t that quite late, young lady?”

“Our building is very well secured, and I won’t be alone. The entire concert ensemble will be there, as well,” you wiped your mouth with a linen napkin and got up to your feet, “As Mother will also agree, this is The Mayor’s family I need to impress, so I believe me staying late is not as scandalous as it sounds. Thank you for the meal.”

By some miracle, nobody actually questioned it. What you actually did during your freedom hours, on the other hand, was just walking. On the main boulevard. On the streets that you didn’t know. Sometimes on the walking path by the sea. You just walked and walked and walked. Sometimes you even openly wept, not caring about how people stared at you. Not giving a single damn about how ugly you looked. How unladylike your behavior was.

Then one evening…

You heard something for the first time accompanying the gentle melodies of a piano coming from a place with no sign outside. When you approached the door, you were met with a question that you most certainly did not expect.

“C Minor?”

Was this person asking for the notes comprising the chord? Or was it some completely irrelevant password he was seeking for? Having no other alternative, you gave him the only answer you had in store.

“C, E-flat major, G.”

The door opened. You were met with a large neon sign inside that spelled Poseidon. You had heard about this club, but never in a nice context. Your mother and her friends called that place and the women entertaining crowds in it deplorable. Casting those rumors aside, you followed the notes that were like a hand made of cartoonish smoke luring you in, only to find yourself in a large music hall.

The mysterious sound you heard was coming from a gold-colored saxophone. You couldn’t really see who was playing it since the orchestra was hidden in the shadows, but it didn’t stop you from instantly falling in love. You would petition for it to be called a sexophone for it was the most sensuous of instruments, but even that much would probably get caught by the censor radar anyway.

“And now, please welcome the first lady of song, Ella Simone.”

Then the richest voice you had ever heard filled the entire hall. You could literally smell it. It smelled like a burning cinnamon stick and caramel. This was the first time you heard someone singing from their soul instead of their diaphragm. People were losing their minds, calling out to the ‘First Lady’ men and women alike. It was nothing short of mass hysteria. You had never witnessed something like this before in your entire life.

Music did that. Nothing else.

After a couple of hours in that place, you resolved to sneak out to Poseidon to take in the talent of the greats. Cassidy, Simone, Parker, Cole… The names they never taught you at the great great Institute. During your free practice hours at school, you started learning jazz pieces, that ‘depravity music’ which was frowned upon by the pretentious high society. By ear. You didn’t need any sheet music to decipher those emotions.

You didn’t want to fathom what would happen if your mother heard you were indulging in this instead of practicing soulless piano concertos.

But a part of you just did not care anymore.

The reasons for me to take a job at Poseidon were threefold.

First off, Poseidon is a speakeasy. It’s not someplace whoever the fuck wants to get in can get in. You need to know a password for fuck’s sake, and if you’re not a music aficionado, then buh-bye.

Secondly, it didn’t feel like work. My shifts were at night, and it was just me and my boys playing pool most of the time instead of at the neighborhood pub. Mr. De Luca hated the fact that I was wasting away my youth, but I was having a great time being a backstage support staff.

And finally, the saxophone.

Good god, the fucking saxophone.

The first time I heard it was when Mr. Coltrane Parker played it on stage. People were losing their minds over it, as they should have, I mean. I clearly remember how I was nailed to my place because of how mesmerized I was by him. This could be it. This could be what I could dedicate myself to because I could swear I was seeing notes float in the air. They felt like colored charcoal lines to me.

Since I was supposed to be backstage, I could get my hands on that blonde beauty anytime I wanted. I came to work several hours early in the afternoon just so I could practice it.

“You know you’re not supposed to touch those, right?”

I almost had a heart attack that day.

Ms. Pearson, former courtesan turned manager, had busted me practicing without permission. Even though I kept telling myself I was going to get fired, she didn’t say anything to anyone and basically adopted me instead. I think she developed a soft spot for me after I told her my father had passed and I had no family.

She’s the one who bought me my very own saxophone. A King Super 20. Just like the legend himself uses. The fucking Cadillac of saxes. I almost came in my pants when she showed that to me.

Poseidon is a jazz speakeasy, but most men come here because of the courtesans accompanying them. They are very hardworking ladies, by the way, so I wish they earned more. All the staff working in this club are very friendly with each other as they should be. We see each other every damn day, more than our families. Well, the last part doesn’t really pertain to me, but you get what I mean.

There’s one particular person who seems particularly interested in me. Raquelle. Changbin keeps telling me to hit that, but with all due respect, that’s just outrageous. Just because she’s a courtesan doesn’t mean I have to make advances on her.

That being said, I’m not dumb. I notice how she flirts with me all the time, slipping in innuendos in her sentences even when we talk about the most mundane things. All my boys have already turned into a Giulia, telling me what a massive fool I am for not bedding her. I’ve told you this before; I can’t just casually touch people. Not just romantically, I’m not a touchy-feely person in general, but Raquelle seems to ignore that. Eventually, I had to just give it to her straight when she attempted to throw her arm around my shoulder backstage.

“Could you… not do that?”

“Why?” she shot me a sultry look, “Do I get you excited?”

“I don’t like it when people touch me.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Not only did she misread the situation, but she also completely misunderstood me.

“It’s because I’m a courtesan, isn’t it?” she spoke to me with her broken smile that did not suit her at all, “Because I’m tainted.”

No, it was because she wasn’t you, but I couldn’t tell her that. It would hurt her feelings. You, on the other hand, could be the most sought-after courtesan here, and I would dedicate an entire shrine after you.

“You’re not tainted, Raquelle.”

“Then one kiss,” she insisted when no one was looking, “That’s all I’m asking.”

“You’re the prettiest woman in this room. In most rooms for that matter. You know that,” I brushed her silky hair behind her ear as kindly as I could, “But don’t ask me to do impossible things.”

I could tell she was upset from the way her face drastically changed. Her eyes were looking at me with utter disdain.

“People actually pay me to kiss them, you know?”

“I know,” I confirmed, “And I’d say you should charge more.”

Even Ms. Pearson took notice of the negative tension between us one day. She cornered me by the bar to get the tea from me directly, as she would call it.

“She’s very pretty and clearly wants you. Why the cold shoulder?”

How do I explain this? I’m just not attracted to a woman just because she’s a woman. Or because she’s pretty. Or because she has nice tits, like why is this so hard to understand? Why the fuck does this keep coming up as a point of conversation, painting me as the oddest one out in the room?

“It doesn’t have anything to do with her personally, Ms. Pearson,” I opted for a shortcut, “I’m just not interested.”

I will never forget what happened just that very next night.

It was a Thursday and Ms. Ella Simone was the headliner that day. The boys and I were done with the backstage prep, so we were just shooting the shit and playing pool at the very back of the audience area. Every once in a while, I was checking in with the stage to confirm everything was going smoothly. But then…

I thought my eyes were deceiving me for a second, but I saw you. I swear I saw you. You were there, a little behind the group of people crowding the edge of the stage. By yourself. Standing.

This was the first time I saw you somewhere other than the pier. The first time I saw you wrapped in darkness rather than the sunlight.

But more importantly, this was the first time I saw you smiling.

You were completely entranced while watching the greats create magic and entrance the masses. I, on the other hand, was hypnotized by the way the corners of your lips curled.

God, you’re beautiful when you smile, and I don’t use that word liberally. One glance at you, and I was riddled with this intense urge to kiss you in the most innocent sense of the word possible.

“YES!” I was pulled back to earth when Changbin yelled right next to me, “You’re buying the next round.”

He had obviously obliterated me because of how distracted I was. I didn’t pay any mind; he could ask for a hundred rounds for all I cared.

“Yeah, sure, whatever man,” I answered him with my eyes still on you.

I really wanted to know if this was just a coincidence or if you were coming here regularly. I wanted to know what days you would be here so that I could put on my fanciest shirt for you. I will learn how to tie a tie for you. I’ve never used one before.

Maybe you would like me then.

The very next morning, when I said I was heading to the pier to draw, Changbin, Minho, and Christopher all decided to accompany me, saying they were bored at the house. The whole way there I didn’t talk. I was thinking about you. I was thinking about whether you were going to show up with your floral-pattern dress that day. I’m very fond of it because it makes you look like a cherry blossom garden.

“Hey, ain’t that your girl over there?” Changbin nudged me on the shoulder.

When I looked up, I indeed saw you sitting down on your bench. You were way too early. It wasn’t even noon. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, or myself in general.

“Shit, it’s her.”

“The fuck are you waiting for, man? She’s alone.”

What was I waiting for? I was waiting to be worthy of you maybe. We were clearly universes apart; I knew that from the second I noticed your jade comb. I know how expensive those are, and I can’t even buy you something half as valuable even if I worked my ass off.

“I don’t– I don’t wanna disturb her. Maybe she’s waiting for someb—”

“GO!”

And just like that, I was pushed to face my fate head-on by my brothers. They had a point because if it were up to me, I would just watch you from afar for as long as I lived. As I got up, my eyes darted to the old man selling candy apples at the corner, and without even thinking about it I bought one. I knew it wasn’t a jade comb, but… Maybe…

My throat had never been this dry as I was walking towards you. I felt like I was approaching my demise, but at the back of my head, I caught myself repeating the same thing.

I’m ready. I’m ready to die.

I don’t really know how to be gentlemanly. I didn’t receive some manners training like the bourgeois guys famously do. Heck, I don’t even have proper schooling.

But I noticed your shoelaces were untied.

When I finally reached you, I kneeled down to tie them without giving it much thought as if I was a marionette. I didn’t deserve to be in your presence when you were a queen and I was just a simple man. I didn’t deserve to breathe in the same air as you when you were a goddess and I was just a mere mortal.

But our worlds had collided somehow and there we were, sitting right next to each other on a bench under the morning sun. I forgot all the words in my vocabulary as I handed you the candy apple. You took a glance from it and then looked at me. Then you looked at the candy again and finally grabbed it from my hands. You weren’t wearing your floral-pattern dress, but you were wearing a white one that had little hearts on it. It suited you so well, and you looked so beautiful that I wanted to fucking punch myself in the face.

“You have it so easy, Romeo,” you spoke while looking at the sea solemnly, “I’m madly envious of you.”

I was a complete stranger to you. I know you didn’t mean it like the astronomically lovesick fictional man; you were just being mordant, but the sorrow in your voice was more palpable than anything else.

Nevertheless, you did call me Romeo.

“There’s nothing expected of you,” you continued your monologue, “You can be whoever you want to be and people would still give you a standing ovation. You can be with whoever you want to, bed whoever you want to, and no one would shame you for it. I would die laughing if you told me you had a curfew. Mere mortals like me can only dream of what you readily have at your disposal. We come and go as your kind pleases, and I have to get married to someone I barely know as a form of financial security. Did you know?”

I couldn’t say anything. I just listened and listened and listened, hoping against hope that the block of lead on your heart would at least move an inch. Dump it on me, I don’t care. You don’t deserve to be riddled with worry. Your soul is too beautiful for that.

You deserve to be the happiest person in the room instead.

“I apologize for unloading on you like that. I don’t have any friends,” you wistfully smiled at the candy apple, “And forgive my lack of response to your kindness. I’ve never received a present before.”

My eyes followed you when you stood up. My heart stopped when you held my gaze. I died a thousand deaths when you put your hand on my face.

“I hope the world gives birth to more people like you, Romeo.”

You left. All I could do was watch you walk away until you shrunk into a dot in the distance. My soul was being ripped apart with every step you took.

Please don’t walk away from me, I beg. I think I’m falling in love with you, Juliet.

The day you and your mother were supposed to meet Bridget O’Connor’s camp for lunch and shopping, the sky was so bleak that it could not be a coincidence. Apparently, even the weather gods felt the need to cast an appropriate background to project the fog that had colonized your soul. Or they were maybe just mocking you, who knew?

“Ah, what a pleasing sight! Such pure beauty,” Bridget squeezed your face when she saw you, lightly sinking her demonically long nails into your cheeks in the meantime, “Nowadays even common streetwalkers call themselves a lady just because they put on makeup. Despicable.”

You didn’t talk much throughout the entire lunch. Nobody directly asked you anything anyway. You felt more like an auction item on display listening to people discussing your price while eating your soup. You silently followed behind as Bridget and your mother bonded over whatever it was they were gossiping about. You didn’t pay any attention. You just walked watching the patterns on the pavement instead. After entering the department store, you didn’t feel like joining them in their wardrobe conquests.

“I have utmost faith in your taste. I will be fine with whatever you pick for me. Thank you very much.”

You politely excused yourself towards the bookstore corner of the huge hall and left the ladies to lose their minds over accessories and dresses and shoes and whatnot. You walked between the aisles and browsed and browsed with blank eyes. You weren’t even processing what you were looking at for your mind was crawling with grim thoughts.

“Wedding preparations?”

Your heart almost gave out when you heard a voice inside your left ear. You sharply inhaled to suppress your shriek and pressed your hand on your chest, trying to calm down your frantic breathing. When you finally calmed down, you turned to your left, just to have your heartbeat go crazy again.

It was him. The man with the silver chain from the pier, looking at you with an apologetic smile and chuckling to himself. Romeo. This was the very first time you heard his voice, and it was just so… So…

Soothing.

“Actually yes,” you quickly turned to face the books again.

“Why aren’t you with your folks then?”

Good question. These pre-wedding shopping sprees were supposed to be one of the most fun things about getting married, but in all honesty, it felt more like your mother was packing underwear for you to use in jail.

“I don’t feel like shopping for my own imprisonment,” you put the poetry book in your hand back on the shelf, “So it would be preferable if you indeed gave me a heart attack right about now.”

That solemn tone again. His face dropped along with yours as you picked up another book to flip through. The silver necklace man, on the other hand, asked you a bizarre question quite seriously while examining a copy of some short story collection.

“Did you hear about the circus fire?”

“Circus fire?”

“Yeah, it was in tents.”

You looked at his face with creased brows trying to figure out what the heck he was talking about. Then it… clicked. And you let out a very disgraceful snort. Seeing your features relax, he tried his hand at the lame joke parade once again.

“Isn’t it great spring is here?” he picked up another book, “I got so excited I wet my plants.”

The things he was saying were so unfunny that you found them hilarious for some reason. However, you had no idea how his heart combusted when your lips curled.

“Stop being so inappropriate, please,” you kept giggling with your eyes intently on the shelf still, “Someone might see us. ”

“I also have a joke about pizza, but it’s a little cheesy.”

Your giggles evolved into a full on laughter at that point, and you were trying hard not to make a loud sound that would attract attention. He started laughing with you, not that there was anything funny going on, but because of how contagious your joy was.

“I just wanted to tell you that you look heavenly this fine afternoon,” he leaned against the bookshelf with his residual grin.

“Fine?” you wiped the tears from your eyes as your laughter died down, “It’s pouring outside.”

“Then tell me why your smile is brighter than the sun, Juliet.”

You snorted again. He could do this all day, saying and doing a bunch of corny stuff just so you would shine that bright.

“Is that the pizza joke by any chance because that was so cheesy.”

“But you’re smiling.”

This was brand new to you, to say the least. Nobody had ever tried to woo you, court you by any means, much less through intentionally poor humor than a bunch of sweet nothings. Yet it worked on you. You had always found this man incredibly good looking starting from the very first glance you stole from him at the pier, but turns out he was also as charming as they came. You might have been deluding yourself, but it kind of looked like… he liked you.

“Say, do you come to Poseidon a lot?”

Panic immediately washed over all your giddiness upon hearing the name of your secret hideout. You shoved him into that little space behind the shelf and pressed your hand on his mouth.

“Please keep your voice down,” you hissed in a whisper.

This was a knee-jerk reaction to shut him the hell up before anybody heard anything, so it took a while for you to process how close you actually were to each other. Neither of you was saying anything, nor was able to look away for that matter. You were just intensely staring into one another’s widened eyes with deep breaths through your noses.

Then you started... perceiving him for the first time.

Flawless skin, adorned with a beauty mark right under his eye. He was so smooth to the touch and he smelled incredible, like the lovechild of amber and vanilla, permeating through every single orifice of your body. You could feel how hard his heart was thumping from the way he was breathing into your palm.

Something you were completely oblivious to was how much he was yearning to kiss you, but it was okay. He could make do with this substitute, too. Your skin was on his lips anyway.

“I’m– I’m sorry,” his voice came out all muffled under your palm.

You removed your hand and walked away all flustered. He kept following you like a magnet with a giddy smile on his face.

“Are you uh– Are you going to come on Friday, too?

“What did I just say about keeping your voice down?” you harshly turned around.

“I think you should. We’re having a little private gathering backstage,” he continued with his attempts to persuade you with his big brown eyes beaming, “Ms. Simone is going to be with us, too.”

“WHAT?!”

You slapped your hand on your own mouth this time to hush yourself.

Ella Simone. The first lady of song. Your idol was going to be there, and he was inviting you to meet her? In person? You were on the brink of losing your whole entire mind.

“Dear? Where are you?”

You turned around all alarmed hearing your mother’s voice in the distance. Remembering you weren’t here all by yourself, the man hurriedly grabbed your hands.

“Please come. Ask for me at the door. My name is Hyunjin,” he placed a kiss on your hands and flashed a devastatingly bright smile, “I’ll wait for you, Juliet.”

You watched him walk away with hasty steps, and his name kept echoing in your head. Hyunjin. Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin…

The spots he kissed kept burning for the rest of the day as if he branded your skin with the outline of his lips.

I don’t really care about the technicalities. Looking back, this was our first date.

The amount of embarrassment I felt after asking you to come to Poseidon that Friday, but not giving you the time… Let’s just say I’m not in my right mind when I’m around you. I didn’t even know if you were going to show up for that matter, but I started waiting for you around 4 PM. The club started getting more crowded, and I couldn’t peel my eyes from the entrance. I wanted to greet you the second you stepped foot in here. I don’t know how much time passed by when I finally heard Minho’s voice yelling at me.

“Hyun! You have a visitor!”

I bolted towards the door so fast that I was surprised how I didn’t knock over several tables along the way. I was breathless by the time I reached you.

“You… You came.”

God, what a beauty. You were absolutely stunning. You might have looked like an ordinary person to anybody else when in fact you were a princess masquerading among her subjects. As if to confirm my suspicions, you reverenced. I knew it was a joke, but I bowed back doing my best prince impression, and I audaciously extended my hand to you.

Some nerve I have, huh?

But you graciously allowed me to hold your hand as I escorted you inside. I never knew hand-holding was one of the most intimate things a person could experience. I could feel your entire body temperature through your palm. I could count your heartbeats through that simple motion alone. If you simply looked at my throat, you could count mine, too, for my pulse was through the roof.

I told you I’m not in my right mind when I’m around you. It never occurred to me to ask your name until I was introducing you to everyone backstage. You seamlessly intervened before I drew a total blank and embarrass myself, but I want to say one more time how sorry I am. Somehow my brain was convinced your name was Juliet.

And don’t get me wrong, your actual name is one of the prettiest things I’ve ever heard, but I’d much rather call you my girl instead. My soul. My other half. I know you’d think I was insane if I said any of this out loud, but when you find the one, you just know.

And I just knew, so sue me.

I realized you were a little tense being around all those people you didn’t know. I learned from Ms. Pearson long ago that a little drink always helped to calm the nerves. Heck, even Ms. Simone rolls one before going on stage. When I asked you whether you would like one and if you had a favorite, by god, I never expected whiskey sour as an answer. Just…

Just how fucking cool can you get?

I admit, I made it look like I was doing this for you, but in fact, I was about to die of nervousness myself.

It worked. As we reached the bottom of our glasses, you were much more relaxed, smiling more brightly at people, but not just out of politeness. I could tell it was for real because your eyes shine when your smile is genuine. You were answering their questions while looking at them in the face. By then, there was nothing left from your initial reservations, and I was loving seeing you so at ease with us as if we knew each other for years.

And I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.

“A pool table!” you exclaimed and pointed at it, “I’ve always wanted to learn this.”

“I can teach you if you want.”

“Really?!”

You didn’t even wait for me to answer and grabbed my hand to drag me to the table. It always irked me out when people touched me for some unknown reason, but you… You…

I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you touching me at all times. And this is fucking dangerous because I’m so scared of getting addicted to the feeling. Not the feeling of touching—you touching me.

Teaching you to play pool was the hardest thing I had to endure. Make no mistake, you’re quite a fast learner, but every time I got close to you… I uh– How do I put this delicately?

Your presence alone was already… doing things to me. Now add the fact that I could smell your perfume from that up close. I made goddamn sure there was enough space between us so as not to make you uncomfortable, but every time I was adjusting the way you were holding the cue, I had to… stand behind you, and…

Call me delusional, but I think you knew what you were doing to me, too. I saw the way you were biting into your smile every time I got flustered.

“I’ll be damned, you’re a great teacher, Romeo. Ever thought about doing this for a living?”

Please. Please stop calling me that before I fall irrevocably in love with you. It’s so hard to resist already. I’m one minor incident away from asking you to marry me as it is, for the love of god, please stop.

I was saved by the bell when Ms. Simone finally graced us with her presence. I swear, the look on your face was priceless when you finally met her.

“Ms. Simone, I’m such a huge fan. I’ve studied all your songs on the piano!”

Really? Fucking really? You know how to play the piano, too?

Just how fucking cooler can you get?

“Then let me see you play, girl,” Ms. Simone pointed at the console piano we had backstage. You, on the other hand, were clearly flabbergasted.

“H-Here?”

“Of course!”

I nodded at you with as much encouragement as I could convey as you shyly made your way towards the bench. When you started playing, my jaw fucking dropped all the way to the floor. I’m not quite proud of what I’m about to divulge, but yes, I did get extremely turned on. That was quite literally the most passionate thing I had ever seen. Erotic even.

“Go,” Ms. Pearson suddenly nudged me on the shoulder, “You know the song. Accompany her.”

I had to think fast about all the unsexy things I possibly could to manage my… situation because there was no way I was about to walk to you like that. Chairs. Sloths. Minho’s snoring…

When I finally calmed myself, I picked up Elaine from her case and started playing along with you. Not too long after, Ms. Simone joined us and sang her heart out as flawlessly as she always did.

A roar of applause broke out in the room with the last note, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the way Raquelle was looking at me with spite by the door. She left the area, most likely to tend to some of her patrons. Did I feel bad? Not really, but I did feel angry. I don’t like it when people bring their negative energy around me.

When Ms. Simone approached you, I left you alone so that you could have a private conversation with her. I leaned against a table, just watching you from afar, probably with a dumb smile on my face.

“So that’s the reason for the cold shoulder,” Ms. Pearson whispered in my ear and there was a huge knowing smile plastered on her lips, “You need to kiss her, my boy.”

“Believe me, I’m willing to sacrifice a lot of things just for one kiss from her,” I told her with my eyes following your every move, “but she’s getting married, Ms. Pearson.”

“So?”

“What do you mean so? She’s… taken.”

She did this every time she wasn’t satisfied with an answer of mine. I felt her notorious tornado smack at the back of my head.

“She’s not some property to be owned, you absolute buffoon!” she spat through her teeth, “She decided to be here with you tonight, didn’t she?”

I mean… She had a point. You didn’t necessarily have to be here. It was a choice. But you probably came to see Ms. Simone; I did tell you she was going to be here. It wasn’t… because of me. It couldn’t be.

“Listen to me, son. Don’t let people tell you it’ll pass,” she grabbed my shoulders and turned me towards her, “I’ve watched people die of heartache before.”

The way you were beaming with happiness while talking to Ms. Simone… My heart swelled several times its size in my chest because nothing was more beautiful than a happy you. You told me yourself that you had to get married to someone you barely knew as a form of financial security. You told me yourself you didn’t feel like shopping for your own imprisonment. So you didn’t love whoever this goddamn lucky bastard was, that was for sure.

Maybe… Was there maybe a snowball’s chance in hell that you would… choose me?

As you made your way to Poseidon that Friday, you didn’t really know what to expect. The only thing you were acutely aware of was the butterflies invading all the possible space in the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you knew what you didn’t expect: having this much fun engaging in things that your mother would call lower-class ways. Eating with your hands. Playing pool. Basically everything a lady was not supposed to do. You met some amazing people that day, and everybody was so warm and welcoming towards you that you felt like you knew them for years.

Lower-class ways combined with Hyunjin’s presence made you so insanely happy that you could die.

“I did warn you about keeping the last piece of chicken to yourself, didn’t I?” Changbin slammed his hand on the table.

“Then you should have prioritized that over your girl’s lips, bro.”

“Oh, fuck you, Hyun!”

A roar of laughter spread around the table. Hyun. People close to him were calling him Hyun. You found the name incredibly endearing.

You asked for a bottle of beer to have with your food, but the opener was nowhere to be found. Hyunjin quickly opened it with a knife he took out, earning a very concerned look from you.

“Why do you carry a knife with you?” you pointed at the sharp object.

“Oh, it’s– It’s not what you think,” he quickly put it back in his pocket, “I sharpen my charcoal with this.”

“Your charcoal?”

“Yeah, when I draw. Wanna see?”

He wiped his hands and showed you the leather-bound folder you were already familiar with. It contained pages and pages of his work inside. As the dates started going back in time, his depictions became… freer. Streetwalkers on a bridge. People having intercourse. A naked woman blowing out smoke with an absolutely satiated expression on her face. Things that people knew were happening but avoided talking about at all costs.

You were flushed from head to toe seeing those as if you were watching pornography in public.

“Do you… not like it?” Hyunjin hesitantly asked you when you didn’t say anything.

How could you not like it? You were on the brink of crying for how much it moved you. You were just thinking about how it was possible for a person to capture human emotion within a limited space in the shades of a single color.

“These are beautiful, Hyunjin,” you managed to utter with a look of total admiration on your face. While his relief was apparent, his smile was trapped between proud and embarrassed.

When you closed the folder and handed it back to Hyunjin, you were met with Changbin openly kissing his girl Anne without an ounce of shame across the table. You didn’t mean to stare, but the more you watched it, the more it tickled something in you. Although it was a mortifying thing to admit, you realized that you wished… Hyunjin would do that to you.

“I need to use the restroom,” you jumped to your feet to splash some cold water on your face. Otherwise, you were going to spectacularly catch on fire.

You managed to somewhat calm yourself in the restroom and when you walked out, you were met with Hyunjin by the door.

“Are you okay? You left so suddenly. I wanted to check on you.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m– I’m fine,” you stuttered but when you caught a glimpse of the happy table in the distance, you involuntarily smiled again, “I’m more than fine actually.”

“Are you glad you came?”

“Absolutely! This is the most fun I’ve had in… well, ever.”

There was a huge neon sign on the fire brick wall to your right in the shape of a trumpet, and the yellow light emitting from it was cast on you two like a spotlight. You were frozen in your place as Hyunjin slowly approached you. The more he closed the distance between you, the more rabid your heart was going. You really wanted to kiss him, but you became so self-conscious of the people in the vicinity that you moved away at the last second.

“Will you– Will you really leave me so unsatisfied?”

“What satisfaction were you expecting from tonight?” you immediately responded.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t– I didn’t mean to–” he held his hands to frantically apologize, “It’s– It’s from Romeo and Juliet, and–”

If humans could die out of endearment, this would be it for you. You had picked up on the reference of course since you were quite familiar with the scene from the play yourself. Just because you uttered the line using modern grammar with such a straight face, he must have thought you were actually offended.

It took iron-clad willpower not to burst out laughing.

“Please let me rephrase,” you held his hands, “What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?”

When Hyunjin saw you smiling at him again, he mustered whatever amount of courage he could, and responded to you with absolute adoration dripping from his eyes.

“The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.”

Your smile grew wide and you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Hyunjin turned beet red as if you just shamelessly drowned him in open mouth kisses for everyone to see. You extended your hand for him to hold this time, and you both returned to the table all giggling.

“You’re an O’Connor, too?” Changbin asked you out of nowhere as you were sitting down. Even hearing the name made you shudder with dismay.

“What makes you say that?”

“The shamrock,” he pointed at your glinting necklace, then nodded towards the public area, “Your folks are here.”

You dashed to the door in utter panic, and when you peeked out, you saw all three O’Connor brothers about to sit down at a booth.

“Oh, FUCK me!”

This was the first time you cursed out loud in your life. Hyunjin looked at you with gigantic eyes in shock and then cracked up with everyone else in the room.

“They can’t see me here. I– I need to leave.”

Hyunjin instinctively grabbed your hand along with his folder, and you snuck out through the back door with everyone’s help to remain unseen. You ran hand in hand down the street towards the pier, laughing your asses off as if you were playing a game of tag. It was still the young hours of the night, so it was quite a feat not to knock people over when the streets were that crowded.

When you finally reached the lighthouse, you thought it’d be empty inside, but it looked like someone was living there. There were signs of a very modest life. A mattress and a pillow, some books, a teapot…

“Um… I don’t think we should be here,” you turned to Hyunjin with worry.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. This is my stuff.”

“You live here?” you asked him in sheer surprise.

“Not live per se, but I come here some nights. To unload my mind.”

As he walked to the little portable cooker on the floor to make some tea, you sat down on the mattress and started going through his folder again.

“You really love what you do,” you uttered with a fond smile, “It really shows, you know?”

Hyunjin didn’t say anything and just sheepishly smiled in response while making the tea. You kept turning the pages and eventually saw the obscene compositions again, not being able to help the way you gulped thickly. The curiosity was killing you, and you just had to ask at this point.

“Did you… actually see these people… while… you know.”

“Some of them, yes,” Hyunjin casually replied, “Europeans are different, I guess. My friend had no problem fucking those women in front of me.”

“And you watched them?!” you shrieked, totally scandalized.

“Not– Not like that. I was in the room sometimes to understand what they were feeling,” he explained, “It’s fascinating to witness how lust manifests on one’s body. It’s unique to the person, you know? Much like a fingerprint.”

Lust as a fingerprint. The thought revolved inside your head as you examined the drawings closer.

“You said fucking.”

“Hm?”

“You said he had no problem fucking those women in front of you.”

“Oh,” he sat down next to you while handing you a cup, “I didn’t mean to be crass.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s the verb you used,” you smiled at him, “Sounds very… raw.”

“The physical act is exactly the same, don’t you think?” Hyunjin took a sip from his raspberry tea and looked at the papers, “I mean, I’d love to fuck someone I’m in love with, but making love sounds very ceremonial to me. I’d much rather we were our rawest selves while feeling each other than put on some performance. It’s an animalistic instinct after all.”

The way he described it so honestly made you tingle in places you didn’t know were possible, and you happened to notice the subject he used. So did he.

And it absolutely mortified him.

“I mean… When I say we, I didn’t… I don’t… I mean in general…”

“It’s okay,” you burst into laughter at the way he was stuttering, “I’ll take your word for it. I don’t have any experience in the subject.”

“Well, me neither,” he shrugged.

To say that you were stunned would be an understatement, but you were. You were stunned that a stunningly gorgeous man like him did not put his hands on someone.

“You… You really never–?”

He shyly shook his head no, but then it devolved into a broken smile.

“But you’ll find out soon enough, no?” he forced a chuckle, “Since you’re… getting married.”

“I expect there will be penetration, but it won’t be an act of love.”

Every time your face fell like that, Hyunjin found it so hard to endure. He felt like his flesh was being ripped apart; it hurt him that much.

Run with me, he wanted to beseech. Run with me, Juliet. Be my wife instead. I’ll shower you with acts of love first thing in the morning and last thing before we go to bed. I won’t let you fall asleep before loving you to death.

But he couldn’t say any of it. His shoulders drooped in resignation, not knowing what to do to make you smile. You, on the other hand, kept going through his drawings and stopped on the one that depicted a man under the sheets from the waist down, his back arched and eyes shut tight, clearly on the brink of a release.

“Do you do this, too?”

“Do what?”

You made it a point to hold his gaze intently when you replied.

“Touch yourself.”

It took a couple of seconds for him to react, but he couldn’t say anything out loud. He nodded somewhat abashed instead.

You wondered what he was touching himself to.

“How does it feel, Romeo?”

“How does what feel, beautiful?”

The name caressed something inside you, causing your lips to be tainted with a smile. You didn’t know where this brazenness came from, but you didn’t feel a shred of shame holding this conversation with him.

“An orgasm.”

You weren’t really curious about what an orgasm felt like per se—you wanted to know what it would feel like if Hyunjin gave you one. You wanted to know how many ways there were you could die in his arms. You wanted to know what he looked like watching your release.

He, on the other hand, was appalled at what he just heard.

“You surely have… I mean… Yoursel… Like…”

It entertained you way too much that he couldn’t say it out loud even though he had no problem depicting what fucking was mere seconds ago.

“I’m not following,” you feigned ignorance and looked at him with big confused eyes to elicit the word ‘masturbate’ from him, but he kept beating around the bush.

“You know,” he drew lines on the floor with the tip of his shoes, “Make love to yourself.”

“I thought you said making love was ceremonial.”

“If you’re gonna do it to yourself, it better be ceremonial.”

You burst into a loud cackle that was so disgraceful, but honestly, you didn’t give a rat’s ass anymore. Hyunjin was right about wanting to be his rawest self, and it wasn’t just about laying with someone. You wished you could act exactly like this all the time, doing and saying whatever felt natural to you.

But you only… wished.

“I’ve never made love to myself before,” you spoke in a mischievous whisper.

“Oh,” he responded, still unable to look you in the eye, “How… How come, though?”

“See this?” you pulled down your bust the tiniest measure to show a glimpse of the corset you were wearing under your dress, “I’m not allowed to take this off.”

“But when… when you’re bathing—?”

“I’m not allowed to bathe myself, either.”

Hyunjin didn’t know what to say, and frankly, saying anything else would be colossally rude at this point. It was your privacy in question after all. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him from being confounded to learn that you were denied very basic things in life. Meanwhile, your eyes darted to his folder again.

“I’d love for you to draw me like that, too.”

He couldn’t have possibly heard that right. He was completely bewildered at what he was hearing, almost breaking his cup in the meantime.

“You… You want me to watch you while someone else is—?”

“NO! God no, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You put down your cup on the floor and scooted closer to him. There was an amalgam of hesitance and expectation on his illegally beautiful features. His lips slightly parted when you leaned in, and you could see how his eyes darted to your mouth, intently watching the shape of it when you uttered the words in a whisper as if letting him in on a little secret.

“When I touch myself.”

There was nobody around for you to feel self-conscious anymore, and Hyunjin was right there, breathing heavily and utterly unsure of what to do next. It was like he was waiting for an indubitably clear sign from you just so you wouldn’t take him for what he was absolutely not. You hyperfixated on the shape of his criminally beautiful lips and when you leaned in mere millimeters closer to him, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Your first kiss. Also his. Your very first taste of pleasure.

It was a very simple motion of him pressing his mouth against yours, but it set an uncontainable wildfire on your entire body. When you moved your lips, he started kissing you deeper, tasting as much of you as he could, your hands traveling on each other’s faces and hair, wanting dangerously more with each passing second. You were going crazy with the intensifying scent of his cologne mixing with his own natural musk, and he tugged you even closer when he noticed how sharply you were inhaling him. You were both breathless when you stopped to catch your breaths, foreheads pressed against each other. You dared to look him in the eye in a momentary lapse of sanity, and there was only one desperate plea written all over that gaze.

Can we do it again?

You gave in. Of course. Of course you could do it again. You could do it all the time.

“You taste like heaven,” Hyunjin spoke against your lips, “God, you taste like a fucking aphrodisiac.”

When he cursed… It stirred something unknown in you. Raw. Just like he said.

Was this… what falling in love felt like?

“Can I touch you?” you asked him, your breathing barely stable.

Touch me. Feel me. Murder me with your fingertips. Perish me under your skin. I’m yours to consume until there’s nothing left of me.

But what spilled from his lips was the complete opposite of what he was craving.

“Not now,” he brushed your hair behind your ears, “It’s not the right time.”

You were quite obviously disappointed, but you also knew he was right. You lowered your head somewhat ashamed of what you just asked of him.

“But you can touch me here,” he guided your hand to his chest. His heart was beating like it was about to give out. You couldn’t help the urge to kiss him again.

Your kisses were shapeshifting, getting more and more passionate, and it was about to cross a dangerous threshold for Hyunjin. It was getting harder and harder to control his need for you. He needed to step away right fucking now for you were colonizing his entire existence, but he would rather kill himself than do something inappropriate.

“I don’t– I don’t wish to disrespect you. I wouldn’t even dare, but– but I—”

You actually wished he would disrespect you. You wished he would defile you right then and there and claim you for himself so that you would be with a man you were feeling intense things for. You’d love to be tainted, a hand-me-down, a second-hand as your mother described women who had premarital intercourse, but at least you would be Hyunjin’s.

At least you would be choosing the man responsible for your goddamn happiness.

You touched his dangerously reddened face as if he was coming down with something, but he still couldn’t open his eyes to look at you. He was trying so hard to keep his breathing stable.

“I– I still want to make love to you but with my words only. It’s more than fine if you say no but– but will you love me back?”

It wasn’t what he said; it was the way he said it. Scared and desperate and almost lovesick. You smiled at him and cupped his face to appease his apparent fears.

“So you want it to be ceremonial.”

“Yes,” he snapped his eyes open and replied without an ounce of hesitation, “For you, yes. Whatever you want from me, yes to everything.”

You pulled him closer for another kiss, and Hyunjin took it as an invitation from you. Your lips were swollen from being loved so intensely but you didn’t care. You didn’t care one bit.

“You still didn’t tell me what an orgasm feels like,” you whispered against his mouth. Hyunjin briefly locked his gaze on you, and then...

“An orgasm feels…”

As he spoke, he ghosted his lips on the naked skin of your collarbones, alarmingly close for you to anticipate a kiss, but still keeping the bare minimum of a distance.

“...really…”

Your shoulder.

“…really…”

Your neck.

“…really good.”

Your lips.

“Like a crescendo.”

“Tell me how you touch yourself, Romeo.”

Hyunjin was aware his face was burning, but even he couldn’t tell if it was because of embarrassment or extreme arousal.

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

What kind of a redundant question was that?! Was water wet? Everybody who had eyes would acknowledge this indisputable fact.

“Oh, please…”

“But do you? Look at me,” he lifted your chin up to make you face him, “Do you find me attractive?”

“It’s ridiculous how beautiful you are actually.”

“It’s ridiculous how beautiful you are,” he spoke, voice still barely audible, “Does it… Does it feel wet between your legs?”

“Yes.”

“When the time is right,” Hyunjin caressed your hair, “I will ask your permission to let me lick it clean. Nothing else. Just taste you. I want to kiss you there just like I’m kissing your lips. Only wetter.”

You were squeezing your legs together out of instinct. That tiny bit of friction indeed felt good, and he noticed the way you were almost squirming.

“It gets to you when I talk like that, doesn’t it?” he smirked all content.

“I don’t know wh– I don’t kn– I…”

Adorable had to be the last thing he could have found you under these circumstances, but nevertheless, he did. He softly chuckled into your ear, still refusing to directly touch your body in the slightest.

“Because I arouse you, beautiful,” he whispered, “But believe me, it’s nowhere near how much you arouse me.”

Your eyes instinctively closed. So this was what making love with words felt like.

“Come closer,” you lightly pulled on his wrists, “Walk me through it. Everything you will do to me.”

Hyunjin crawled right behind you and started speaking directly into your ear with the softest voice.

“You’ll be bare for me from the waist down. I’ll have the privilege of touching this supple skin,” he put his hand on yours, “It might feel ticklish when I start kissing you right there.”

He pressed your hand on your crotch, avoiding direct contact. The only thing he was touching was your hand, but it felt like he was rather teaching you how to please yourself. He was keeping the tiniest measure of distance between you out of whatever amount of respect he could show you in this context. You might not have had any experience but you were not naive, either. You knew he was doing it so that he wouldn’t be… touching you.

“Closer,” you breathily exhaled, “I want to feel you against me.”

He was clearly hesitating, but you erased all his doubts on his behalf when you yanked on his arms and pulled him flush against your back. You were able to feel his heartbeat down your spine and how hard he was on your hips. The scent of his cologne got denser on your nostrils and you were feeling completely drunk.

“Keep going,” your pulse started to escalate to match his rhythm, “Tell me. Tell me how you’ll love me.”

You intertwined your fingers with his. The way he was breathing down your neck made you feel tingles all over your body. You had never felt this naked in your whole life.

“I’ll explore every inch of your body to learn what you like. I’ll devote hours to it if that’s what it takes. Days even. Weeks. I’ll learn how to touch you just right. I’ll drown you in kisses. You’ll want more and more, and I’ll give it to you.”

You squeezed his hands with all your might as your breathing started getting labored. Hyunjin continued much more shamelessly in your ear.

“I’ll taste you everywhere. I’ll tease you until your pretty cunt aches for more. You’ll sound so fucking delicious whimpering under me, moaning my name over and over again. You’ll just tell me where you want me on your body and I’ll oblige, but I will not lick you until you push my head between your legs. I want you to become as hungry for me as I am for you.”

The more obscene his language got, the more unhinged you were becoming. You could completely picture everything he said. It felt like he was already on your body, about to break you in, and you were loving that it was him.

You were loving the way he loved you no matter how hypothetically.

“Touch yourself next to me, Hyunjin,” you exhaled in one breath, “Right now.”

That was a pleasant surprise for Hyunjin to notice that you weren’t this timid little thing, but unfortunately for him, his arousal levels hit the roof when you uttered his name in such a desperate and commanding tone at the same time.

“Don’t… don’t say things like that or I’ll—”

“I won’t watch if you’re embarrassed,” you reassured him, “I just want to know what it feels like.”

“What what feels like, my soul?”

Why would you say that?!, you wanted to yell at his face. As if the way he was making you feel was not intense enough. As if he wasn’t imprinting himself all over your existence already.

As if you needed further encouragement to fall madly in love with him.

“When you– when you climax because of me.”

“The lowlife term is cumming, you know,” his voice was riddled with mischief, “You can say it. Say you want to watch me cum.”

“I want to watch you cum.”

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t stutter. You flat out told him what you wanted, and it snapped something in Hyunjin. He couldn’t take it any longer, and you felt a very wet kiss on the left side of your neck. The buzzing sensation between your legs intensified threefold.

You were oozing.

“Say you want to watch me cum to you. Say you want me to be a slave for you,” you heard his belt unbuckling behind you, “Say you love me. Say you love me back. Please.”

You pecked his right hand with your eyes still closed, then turned it around to sloppily make out with his palm. His breathy moans started becoming louder in your ear. When you finally let go of his hand, he started stroking himself in a languid rhythm. You couldn’t see it, but you were able to clearly hear it.

“It sounds so wet,” you squeezed your eyes harder. Hyunjin, on the other hand, managed to shove the softest of chuckles in between his panting.

“This is what it will sound like when I’m inside you.”

Your wetness was so out of control by then that you felt like you soiled yourself. It felt like a part of you was itching and you badly needed to scratch it. You were seeking that friction that was going to relieve you. The fabric of your corset was indeed thick, but you pressed your fingers on it as hard as you could and started rubbing yourself.

“You mean when we– when we’re fucking.”

“Yes, when we’re fucking. When we’re making each other go insane,” his voice started becoming high-pitched, “You’ll feel so warm, so tight around me. You will drag me through hell when you start moaning in ecstasy. You will kill me when you cum all over me.”

You leaned against his chest and spread your legs wider to rub yourself properly. Hyunjin held your other hand and locked his fingers with yours.

“No one has ever made me feel this way before,” he barely managed to utter while heavily breathing, “I know I shouldn’t, but I’m so gone for you, beautiful. I want to be at your beck and call. I want to be your man. I have complete tunnel vision for you.”

“I want to see,” you sat up straight in one go, “Please let me see how you’re touching yourself to me.”

You didn’t know why you always pictured male genitalia as something unpleasant because when you turned around, you saw exactly how pretty Hyunjin was, flushed pink with clear liquid pooling around the very tip. The moment you caught a glimpse of him, it felt like a dynamite exploded inside you and you felt yourself getting infested with the most obscene thoughts you had ever had. You wanted to do so many things to him. On him. With him.

There wasn’t an ounce of rational thought left in you, and you were finally able to internalize the meaning of raw. The only thing you were able to process was your most primitive urges taking over, which you didn’t even realize you harbored within you.

“Touch me while I touch you, Hyunjin.”

“D-don’t… If you do…”

“Touch me.”

You grabbed his hand and pressed it between your legs over your clothed core. Feeling him even through all those layers of fabric jumpstarted something in you, and you watched yourself wrap your fingers around his cock, careful not to hurt him. He was so warm to the touch, burning to the point of spiking a fever, and you replicated the exact same vigorous rhythm he was stroking himself with. You unleashed yourself on his lips completely instinctively, and once he slipped his tongue inside your mouth and started swirling it around yours, something violently erupted deep inside you, causing you to convulse hard as you held onto Hyunjin for dear life. Not too long after, you felt something warm and wet gushing all over the hand you were pleasing him with, his muffled moans echoing inside your mouth and reverberating throughout your body.

You felt pleasantly tired, but you also felt like you were glowing. You felt this odd sense of total satiation that you had never once felt in your life before, and it made you giggle like an idiot.

“How do you feel, Juliet?” he asked you while cleaning your hand. The contentment on your face was the complete opposite of the words you uttered.

“I think I’m dying.”

“You look stunning when you’re satisfied, you know.”

Hyunjin crawled right next to you and pulled you into his embrace. You could feel the way he smiled when he kissed your hair. You laid there in silence for some time, just basking in each other’s warmth, allowing yourself to live in this little bubble of coziness that defied all reality.

Nevertheless, all good things had to come to an end. You fixed your appearance, and let Hyunjin hold your hand as you walked back to the Institute building where you were supposed to be picked up in another half an hour or so.

“A thousand times good night,” you told him before entering the building. He kissed your hands and reciprocated your line.

“A thousand times the worse to want your light.”

When Hyunjin went home that night, he spent hours drawing the exact expression on your face while you were cumming. He didn’t know what you looked like under your garments, but he’d at least seen you from collarbones up.

That was enough for him to draw a bust clearly indicative of you being naked just for his eyes to see.

“Can I ask you something, Mother?”

“What is it, dear?”

“I’m aware at this point I’m probably considered engaged to Ryan although I don’t have a ring or anything,” you added a finishing touch in your hair with a black silk ribbon, “Hypothetically speaking, if the Mayor’s son approaches me tonight, should I avoid conversing with him?”

“That would be very rude. There’s no harm in entertaining a conversation,” your mother winked at you.

That was enough to make you properly nauseated.

“I hate to be asking you this, and I wouldn’t if I absolutely didn’t have to,” you tugged on the hem of your shield, “My corset makes it very hard for me to breathe in this dress.”

“Oh, come on, dear, I’m sure you can endure it.”

“The concert is over two hours, Mother,” you appealed to her superficial logic, “I really don’t wish to pass out on stage and make a fool of myself. Please.”

She eyed you from head to toe and made a quick calculation in her head, eventually punctuating it with a sigh.

“Fine, but only this once. Don’t make a habit of this,” she started untying the laces on your back, “I still don’t understand why I cannot come to this event.”

“I’ve explained this already, Mother. It’s by invitation only, and they all go to very high-level people. There won’t be any parents there tonight.”

And that was the second lie you told her in a span of thirty seconds.

When you asked me to come with you to the reception thrown in honor of your ensemble, I panicked. Hard.

Needless to say, I don’t have experience with high-class events, and I only have one suit. Thank goodness Ms. Pearson was there when I showed up at Poseidon because I don’t want to imagine what would happen otherwise.

“Good god my boy, surely you’re not going to escort her like this? You look hideous!”

She dragged me to the artist lounge and put me in one of those expensive tuxedos reserved for orchestra members, made some quick calls, and before I knew it, I was at the mercy of some styling people. I have to give it to them though—they did such a fantastic job in such a short amount of time that if I appeared at some red carpet looking like this, no one would be able to guess they were looking at Hwang Hyunjin from Magnolia Street.

Ms. Pearson had arranged a fancy town car for us to make an appearance as she called it. She was over the moon when you also invited her so that she could network with some people. Between you and me, once you’re okay in her book, you’re there for life. As we were waiting for you to arrive, she orchestrated quite the bluff to make me look good, though.

“Mr. Hwang here is an up-an-coming musician, as well. Quite the saxophonist training under Mr. Parker.”

“Really? Are you headlining anywhere, my good man?”

“He will be headlining at The Titan this summer.”

The moment the man we were talking to left us, I felt the need to urge her to pump the brakes because what the hell indeed.

“Damn Ms. Pearson, you wanna cool it a little?”

“Shush. Just follow my lead.”

Well, she was the boss lady around here so she probably knew better, right?

When you finally walked through that door, dazzling the heck out of me in the meantime, she took it as her cue to leave the premises. You know she’s like my mom, so I hope you didn’t mind she hugged you that openly in public considering who she is. It’s just not that common of an occurrence for her to see me happy. She’s really fond of you, you know?

I watched your magic for however long that was, but honestly, it felt like only five minutes to me. I wish I could watch you longer. The way you play… Your attachment to music… It’s just mindblowing, Juliet. Tonight reaffirmed to me how much you and I are meant to be. You’re literally my other half.

After the concert, you were surrounded by people congratulating you just like you deserved, and I couldn’t feel any prouder watching you from afar although I had nothing to do with this. It’s like… This is the woman I love, you know. Witness her magic. Be as hypnotized by her as I am. She deserves the world. She deserves all the good things life has to offer.

Looking at everyone else crowding that hall, I didn’t feel like one of those good things. These people were… different than me. They had the means. Call it money, power, influence, talent, or whatever you want. They had all the things I didn’t have and they could offer you many more things that I could only dream of offering you in my wildest dreams.

But tonight wasn’t about me. It was about you. It was your moment to shine and I just felt lucky enough that I was able to witness it.

“Wonderful tonight,” I lightly touched your arm and turned around to see myself out.

“Going somewhere?” you looked at me with huge eyes, borderlining on sad.

I can admit this now. If you didn’t ask me that question, I was really going to leave. I wasn’t sad or anything; on the contrary, this was one of the happiest nights of my life. I just didn’t think… you needed my shadow around you.

But it was at that moment I decided to give you the piece of paper I was keeping in my pocket.

“I uh– I’ll just get some fresh air,” I discreetly handed you the note I had hastily scribbled.

Meet me by the fountain outside.

Not even two minutes later, you actually came. You had an apologetic look on your face when you absolutely shouldn’t have.

“I’m really sorry for not being able to get out sooner,” you approached me with quick steps, “These people can talk.”

Just… Why are you this beautiful, Juliet? You make me wanna cry sometimes.

I heard an Ella Simone song playing in the distance. I was convinced just mere minutes ago that I had no place in your life but…

I love you. I can’t help it. It’s wrong maybe, but I love you with sincere greed.

“Can I have this dance?” I extended my hand to you.

You took it. We danced under the moonlight in that garden where no one was around. We kissed each other slowly as if we had all the time to kill in the world. I fell deeper in love with you, and I could swear you loved me, too.

Then you said something that shortened my lifespan by ten years.

“Take me back to your lighthouse, Romeo.”

This was how you knew it was real. All your waking thoughts were riddled with Hyunjin. The way he smiled at you. The way he looked at you. The way he tightly held your hand. His eyes. His lips. That little mole on his face you were dying to kiss. Just… Everything about him was invading you. Your mind. Your heart.

And your body.

You couldn’t even keep track of how many times he appeared in your dreams, doing the exact same things as he whispered in your ear. Just loving you, fully unhinged. You were both falling under a euphoric spell as you ravished one another until the sky started gaining consciousness again. Dying in each other’s arms just to be resurrected into the same life. In the same breath.

You knew in your heart of hearts that you belonged with him. And you wanted to belong to him. In every sense of the word possible. That was why you asked him to take you to the lighthouse again without any hesitation. You wanted this more than anything else.

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” you replied with a total lack of pause, “Put your hands on me.”

He did. He put his hands on your face while kissing you, but you felt something you had never felt before, which was cause for concern.

“You’re trembling, Romeo,” you kissed his hands, “Are you nervous?”

“I’m just overwhelmed,” he shook his head, “I– I can’t stand the idea of you being with someone else, but if it’s what it takes to be with you… I’ll– I’ll settle for being the other man.”

“Do not say such things ever again,” you held his face in your hands, “There’s no other man. There’s only you.”

You kissed him like you never did before to get your point across. You kissed him so that he knew once and for all that the sovereignty he had declared in your heart was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. That you couldn’t even see anyone else. That he was the exclusive owner of your soul.

“Do whatever feels natural to you,” he whispered with a quivering voice as if he was left out in a blizzard for hours, “Teach me how to touch you right.”

“Undress me.”

It was the most unrushed thing ever. He was so careful with the way he was stripping you as if you would disappear into thin air if he got one move wrong. Excruciatingly patient. You did the same for him as you got rid of his bowtie, his blazer, and his shirt, just leaving him bare for you to appreciate.

When you were finally naked, Hyunjin admired you like with his jaw dropped like you were the world’s eighth wonder. He hugged you tight and put his hands on your back, pressing you close to him and just kissing you. Your shoulders, your cheeks, your lips… He was trying to soothe himself rather than you for you were devastatingly enticing to witness in your full glory. You ripped the necklace off of you and tossed it to the side for nothing was able to come between you. Absolutely nothing.

“Only you,” you pulled him into a kiss again. As deep as it could be.

He laid you down on his mattress, and it felt cool against your back. The only thing accompanying you two was the sound of the waves crashing in the distance.

“You’re way too beautiful,” he placed a kiss on your forehead, “Did you know you taste like my other half, Juliet?”

Your hands were all over each other albeit very clumsily. Your somewhat abashed giggles tickled each other’s eardrums every once in a while, but they were subdued when one of you touched somewhere just right. Even the way you looked at each other changed when that happened. You both took quick mental notes and iterated the motion that caused the other to let out that delectable sound of pleasure. Much better than any piece of music that could ever be written, past, present, or future.

“Turn around for me.”

You kissed all over Hyunjin’s bare back like you would kiss his plush lips. Delicately, with intention, with meaning. Tattooing little I love yous on his skin every time you pressed your lips on him. This man was made to be loved and he was made to be loved by you. No doubt about it.

“Oh… God!”

You found it. That spot right under Hyunjin’s right shoulder blade. That one spot that sent an absolute shockwave down his spine. His drive crazy button.

“I could– I could cum to this.”

“Then cum,” you silently whispered into his ear.

You held both his hands and alternated between his shoulder blades, listening to the escalating frequencies of his moans under you. He really came. When you turned him around again to face you, there were beads of sweat on his forehead. You wiped it clean and kissed him there. Then his nose. Then his cheeks. Then his lips. As his breathing was returning to normal, he was somewhat embarrassed about the mess he made and tried to cover it up with the sheets.

“No,” you stopped him, “I’d much rather we were our rawest selves.”

You made your way down between his legs, and all he could do was watch you with crushing anticipation.

“It’s an animalistic instinct after all,” you flashed a comforting smile.

Hyunjin flinched with sharp exhales when you kissed him on his crotch. Your lips were getting stained with his cum and watching that was so fucking erotic that if he was properly recuperated at the moment, he’d cum again right then and there. He was so sensitive to the touch but he didn’t care. He just let you do whatever felt natural to you.

And to you, what felt natural was kissing all over his most vulnerable corners and dragging your tongue over the bitter extract of him. You would absolutely detest this if it was any other person, but just because it was Hyunjin, the taste shapeshifted in your mouth. You sipped on him as if he was a refreshing glass of whiskey sour rejuvenating and intoxicating you simultaneously.

“Lay down. Let me,” he eventually stopped you and traded places with you, “Curse if you feel like it. Don’t stop yourself.”

You. Right there. On that mattress. Under him. Waiting for him to please you.

Were you even aware of how hard it was for him not to go insane?

If Hyunjin was overwhelmed before, he was on the brink of having a goddamn seizure now that he was this close to your soaked cunt, glistening perfectly under the dim lights of his oil lamps. He couldn’t decide what to do first. Touching you, or kissing you, or licking you. Which one would you like the most? Which one would make you cum so violently that you would ask him to please please remember it and do it again? Because he would. He would do anything to please you just right. He would do it until he conditioned you to cum with a single drag of his tongue on you.

You were keenly watching his every move, anticipating what he was going to do to you next. You suddenly remembered what he said to you all those times ago in this very place.

I will not lick you until you push my head between your legs. I want you to become as hungry for me as I am for you.

You weren’t sure if that was a hypothetical question or not as you simply couldn’t be any hungrier for him. You knew that for a fact because all that ruled your entire mind and body was your most carnal desires, and all of them were about Hyunjin declaring all your uncharted territories as his.

“Touch me,” you somehow managed to utter.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and you flinched hard in your place. The more he provided friction, the more aroused you were and it wasn’t enough. Hyunjin simply touching you was never enough. You couldn’t take it anymore and tangled your fingers in his hair to press his beautiful face between your legs.

“Oh, FUCK!!!”

His mouth on your pussy was everything you could possibly dream of. So warm and wet, slowly licking clit, gently sucking on it, kissing you just like he was deeply kissing your lips but only wetter. You were involuntarily grinding against him to get as much friction as possible, and with each lick, you felt closer to dying.

“Hyunjin, please,” you started whimpering under him, “Hyunjin. Hyunjin. HYUNJIN!”

This feeling was impossible to describe. This beautiful man you were crazily in love with, the man who deeply loved you back gratifying you in the most obscene way possible and taking obvious pride in it, looking dead into your eyes as you came hard into his mouth, hungrily savoring every single drop you had to offer until you begged him to stop… This couldn’t be real. The amount of passion and affection was so otherworldly that it just could not be real.

“You’re my dream come true, Juliet. I love you,” Hyunjin kissed your soul out of you with those lips that tasted exactly like you, “Love me back. Love me harder.”

“To hell with making love,” you held onto his shoulders, “Fuck me.”

“You’re hellbent on killing me tonight, aren’t you?”

Hyunjin aligned himself with your entrance and started moving inside you with very shallow thrusts, watching your every mimic to understand how you were feeling.

“More,” you urged him, “Push more. I can take it.”

He held your gaze at all costs as he gently moved further and further and further and finally…

“I love you, my soul. I’ll love you with everything I got now.”

He started thrusting into you with sharper movements. The way he was gliding inside you so easily, the sheer amount of pleasure he was drowning you in when he grazed against your swollen walls like that… You wanted to die. You wanted to die right then and there so that this was the last thing you remembered from this life.

Nothing could feel this good. Nothing could make you feel this satisfied than the man you were deliriously in love with paving his way into you. His face all convoluted, panting heavily, confessing his love for you over and over again through guttural moans.

“Hold on to me,” Hyunjin put your hands on his shoulders, “Look at me when you say you love me. Just look at me. Day and night.”

You couldn’t even say it properly when you felt yourself in ruins under him. All you could do was clench and hope that he was able to translate that somehow. Seeing how much he liked it when you squeezed him inside you, you clenched harder and harder and harder until you felt him spill inside you with a deliciously loud groan.

You wished you could do this every night in a bed that belonged to the two of you. You wished you didn’t have to come back to your senses and hug each other to sleep instead. Even after giving yourselves to each other, you had to face the ugly truth of putting that goddamn necklace around your throat again.

Every time you left the lighthouse, the cool night breeze would greet you, giving you a breath of fresh air until you had to go back to your reality.

When you opened the door this time, you were faced with all three of the O’Connor brothers instead.

“The FUCK you think you’re doing here with my girl you fucking lowlife?!”

It happened so fast that you couldn’t even process it. The three men ganged up on Hyunjin and started beating the crap out of him while all you could do was scream for help, beg for Ryan to stop while trying to pull him away, and violently cry.

“OH, YOU GOT SOME GODDAMN NERVE!!!”

By whatever stars aligned, Ms. Pearson burst through that door and broke the fight off in an instant. She was surprisingly strong for a woman. You noticed there was someone else who came with her. The beautiful girl from Poseidon.

“Learn to put a leash on your man, whore,” Ryan yelled at Raquelle while wiping the blood from the corner of his lips.

“Learn not to get castrated, O’Connor,” Raquelle dexterously drew a knife and pointed at his throat, “Stay put. We’re leaving.”

You wanted to say something, do something, but you were frozen in your place. All the strength left your body and you sat on the floor when your knees gave out, just watching Raquelle take Hyunjin away. In the meantime, you were somehow able to register Ms. Pearson’s voice echoing in the room.

“You three are familiar with Mr. Ricardi, right? Your father’s boss?” she was speaking directly to Ryan.

“And?”

“We happen to have a very close relationship with him, young man. If you don’t believe me, next time you see him, tell him Ms. Pearson said hi and watch the blood drain from his face,” she fearlessly walked towards the three men at the same height as her and pointed her finger at them, “You will not speak of this to anyone. If you do, I’ll dig a little O’Connor family grave myself. Now get the fuck out of here.”

The second they left, she rushed to you to hug you, rocking you back and forth like a little baby as you cried your eyes out in her chest. You didn’t know for how long you stayed there in her arms. When you finally calmed down, she put you in a car and instructed the driver about where exactly he needed to drive you off.

“Ms. Pearson, Hyunjin–”

“Shh, he’s okay, precious. I’ll be with him,” she patted your head through the window, “Go home and get some rest, okay? He’s in good hands. I’ll let you know how he’s doing as soon as I can.”

Meanwhile, back at a very empty Poseidon, Raquelle was in the middle of cleaning Hyunjin’s wounds surrounded by a monk temple-like silence.

“How do you know him?” Hyunjin asked her at last.

“Who?”

“O’Connor. You called him by name.”

“Oh,” she replied, unfazed, “Yeah, he’s one of my regulars.”

“How did you even know how to find me there?”

“They were here at the club and left extremely angry for some reason. I heard your name being mentioned so I thought I’d follow them.”

She poured some more antiseptic on a piece of cotton and gently dragged it on Hyunjin’s lips.

“You really should have thought it over before calling yourselves Romeo and Juliet. They both die at the end, you know,” she spoke with pseudo-indifference obviously laced with envy, “Was it worth it to get beaten to a pulp?”

“Yes, it was. I’m not about to compare getting some scratches to being away from her,” Hyunjin immediately answered, visibly annoyed.

Raquelle Shecter. Beauty queen. Famous burlesque dancer. Desired by the entire town and earning way more money than she could count.

One thing she was not, however, was being Hwang Hyunjin’s object of affection no matter how hard she tried.

She had tried being subtle, being not-so-subtle, even being embarrassingly obvious, getting her pride severely damaged in the meantime.

One thing she had not tried, however, was straight up telling Hwang Hyunjin how ridiculously in love she was with him.

“I can quit this life just to be your girl right fucking now,” she finally blurted it out, “Just say the word. You would always be my main man, Hyunjin. I can make you so damn happy!”

Hyunjin closed his eyes and took the deepest breath of his life, trying his utmost best to keep his composure.

“I’m not gonna repeat this again, Raquelle. Don’t ask me to do impossible things,” he stood up in one swift movement, “And next time you attempt to pull some shit like this, at least have the guts to properly finish the job.”

Raquelle Shecter. Beauty queen. Seen as the ugliest creature by the man he hopelessly loved for how transparent she was.

“Hyunjin, please, it’s not what y—”

“Don’t,” he shushed her, “I know you think I’m not as smart as you, but just don’t insult me anymore.”

As Hyunjin left the premises with a busted lip and bruises all over him, Ms. Pearson watched her adopted son seethe in fury and sorrow from a dark corner. The moment the front door closed, her heels started clicking on the hardwood floor as she approached Raquelle sitting on a bar stool all by herself.

“You were the one that led them there, weren’t you?” she rhetorically asked as she sat down on the stool right next to her, “Love is many things, silly girl, but if you’re willing to watch the person you love get hurt and not even blink, that’s called something else.”

Jeanette Pearson. Fierce lady, but a complete softie towards the people she loved. Mother to all kids who lost their way. She had seen way too much in her life that gave her the superpower of recognizing shame from five miles away.

“I’ve always liked you. I know deep down you’re a nice girl. You just made very bad choices somewhere along the way,” she swiveled on the stool to face Raquelle and spoke very very softly as if she was reciting a fairytale, “But Hyunjin is my son, and that crosses a line with me. I don’t give a fuck who you are and who you know. I’ve lived twice as much as you, and trust and believe, you don’t want to know who I know and what I’m capable of doing. ”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. I need you to stop acting crazy and leave him alone.”

Jeanette Pearson. Known for her graceful badassery. True to her reputation, she pulled out a knife from her purse twice the size of Raquelle’s and silently placed it on the bar counter.

“Otherwise I won’t be responsible for what might happen to you.”

This is worse than prison.

Ms. Pearson told me to lay low for some time, but I’m about to go crazy missing you, Juliet. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. I keep thinking about you, and I’m worried sick not knowing if you’re alright or not.

I know I need to keep it together for both of us, I know. I know you have it worse than me, but I’m gonna die if I can’t see you soon, my soul. Even just a glimpse of you from miles away would suffice. I just want to know if you’re okay.

I keep thinking about the night we vowed ourselves to each other. I miss you. I miss your scent invading mine. I miss your taste on my tongue. I miss being wrapped around you like your personal safety blanket. I caress my pillows every night imagining it’s you. I caress myself thinking you’re still with me in my bed. That this is not happening and we’re not apart and I’ll wake up to your beautiful face next to me in the morning. I don’t touch myself to satisfy some need; I do it so that I can at least see you in my dreams. I’m running out of tears to cry over you. I miss you. I miss you so much.

Hang in there a little while longer, my soul. I won’t let anything happen to a strand of your hair.

Completely contrary to your expectations, none of the O’Connor brothers seemed to have said anything to anyone, but that didn’t stop them from stinging you with thinly veiled sardonic comments whenever you faced each other. If anyone accused them of being rude, all of them would break into a uniform smile and say something along the lines of, “We kid, of course. We’re close enough now to have our inside jokes,” when it was so obvious what a blatant lie that was. What was worse, your mother didn’t seem to have a problem with it as long as an O’Connor was willing to take you.

You couldn’t see Hyunjin. You couldn’t sneak out anymore since you were escorted everywhere by the personal bodyguards of the O’Connors now. Your mother was next-level insane thinking this was a gesture of Ryan being doting and protective.

You started spiraling. Bad.

You stopped getting out of your room even to go to school. You refused to see a piano for it reminded you of Hyunjin. Everything reminded you of Hyunjin and Ms. Pearson hadn’t let you know how he was doing like she promised. It had been days, didn’t this qualify as soon? How soon was now, for example? You were cursing at yourself for not memorizing the phone number for Poseidon. You just needed a piece of news. Something. Anything.

Even getting out of bed seemed like an extremely difficult task, and you started considering how much your life was worth. A necklace? Some clothes at a department store? One flimsy lunch?

“Dear? Could you come outside, please? Ryan wants to see you.”

Your mother’s singsongy voice pierced through your locked door. Ryan wants to see you. Not Ryan is asking if he can see you. Not even Ryan is here to see you.

“I don’t feel well, Mother. Please send him away.”

“But he came all the way here to see you, dear. Fix yourself quickly and come out.”

All the way here. From Camden Hills to Beauvoir Drive, it literally took less than ten minutes by car. This motherfucker had just pulled up to your house, not even asking if you were decent first. He was just so used to getting everything he wanted, wasn’t he?

“No.”

“Young lady, don’t make me come in there.”

What could she possibly do if she came in here? Drag you from your hair and throw you at Ryan’s feet? Didn’t she have enough trying to live a reality she wanted for herself through you? Wasn’t everything she forced on you was fucking enough? Wasn’t being treated like a little doll enough? Wasn’t this godforsaken straitjacket of a corset ENOUGH?!

That was the absolute last straw. You had a full on meltdown and started screaming your lungs out, ripping all your pajamas and that fucking corset off of you. You could hear your mother’s mortified voice descending into worry echo outside your room, but you didn’t give a shit about what she had to say anymore.

“Young lady, it’s me,” you heard Shima crying with you, “Please. I’m begging you, please let me in. I’m by myself. I won’t let anyone inside. Please let me see you.”

This was the first time you heard her begging that desperately while violently crying for that matter. Your hiccups abruptly stopped like a baby finally hugging his mother. You carefully approached the door, very slowly turned the key in the lock not to make a noise, and opened it a microscopically small measure to see who was outside. It was indeed Shima by herself, still crying. You pulled her in, locked your door, and hugged her tightly to cry in her chest. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you finally calmed down. She was soothing you by caressing your hair in her lap, and it reminded you of Ms. Pearson a lot.

“Why are you this enamored with the artist boy, young lady?”

You looked at her face half shocked, half mortified at the unexpected declaration.

“You– You knew?”

“How long have I been taking care of you? You’re not as sly as you think,” she warmly smiled, her voice completely inaudible from the outside, “Why do you love him so much?”

“Because he saved me, Shima,” you confessed, “He saved me in every way a person can be saved.”

She didn’t ask you any further questions and just caressed your hair lovingly. If she told you she was your biological mother right then and there, you would believe her. Why was every other woman more motherly than your actual mother for fuck’s sake?

After sending Shima away, you locked yourself in your room again and just laid there on your bed until the darkness of the night came to hug you. You watched the clear sky until it was the deepest hours of the night, and your tears fell down along with some shooting stars. You kept wishing on them to see Hyunjin one more time, to hug him tightly to remember what he smelled like, to run your fingers through his silky hair once again, and to peck the mole right under his eye. You cursed at the fact that you had to be born into two diametrically opposite universes.

“Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” you spoke between your sobs. The gentle tapping of the branches on your window lulled you to sleep. You kept hearing the tapping sound as if it was thick raindrops hitting the glass. It continued. It continued for a long time. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted with a dark figure waving at you on your window and you would recognize that slender silhouette among a thousand shadows.

“Hyunjin?!”

When you checked your clock, you saw that it was way past midnight, and your wish had indeed come true. This was the craziest thing he could possibly do right now, but he didn’t give a damn, not that you were in your right mind either. You carefully opened your window to let him in, and the second he stepped foot in your room, he hugged you as if he wanted to squeeze the life out of you. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, filling your lungs with as much of his scent as you could. He was crying as he was kissing you. So were you.

Out of happiness for once.

“I’m going insane without you, my soul. I had to see you,” he whispered while drowning your face in kisses.

“I’m yours,” you held his face between your hands, “I don’t care what anyone says. I’m only yours.”

“Then deny thy betrothed and refuse thy name,” he smiled at you blindingly bright, “Come away with me. Marry me. We won’t have much maybe, but I promise I’ll devote myself to making you the happiest woman on earth.”

Hyunjin brought out a modest silver ring from his pocket and offered it to you.

Love doesn’t feed you. It never will.

FUCK all of that, maybe.

“Yes,” you let him put it on your finger, “Infinity times yes.”

You celebrated your impromptu engagement, the real one this time, by kissing the man you loved for a long, long, long time, avenging all that time you had to spend apart.

“Don’t go. Please, don’t go,” you pulled him close to you in your bed, “Stay the night with me.”

“But–”

“I can’t pretend my fingers are you anymore,” you looked him dead in the eye, “I need you. I know you need me, too.”

Well, if that wasn’t the truth… If that wasn’t the indisputable truth because the reason Hyunjin bolted to your window that night was a massive meltdown he also had himself.

“Then don’t make a sound.”

You pretended it was your actual marital bed you were fucking in that night. He pretended you were doing him the biggest favor when you let him eat his own cum out of your pussy.

“Nothing can taste this good, my god,” he kissed your inner thighs and smeared his cum all over you, “You and I… This is proof that we’re meant to be.”

You talked in quiet whispers until the first lights of daybreak, telling each other everything that happened in each other’s absence in excruciating detail. You felt better for the first time in forever. He was smiling. You were smiling. He said he loved you. You said you loved him more. You both said But I love you most in unison. Then Hyunjin told you all about the plot he was concocting as of late.

“Just act like you’re actually gonna go through with the wedding, Juliet,” he kissed your forehead, “Lucky for us, my letter from Verona did not get lost in the mail, and I’ll know you’re faking your death.”

On the day of your wedding, your mother was expecting guests to arrive at the venue, yet she had one in the afternoon knocking on the house door.

“Yes?”

“My name is Jeanette Pearson,” the stranger introduced herself with a smile, “Can I please come in to talk about your daughter?”

“Is everything okay?” her face bleached with worry.

“I’m afraid, not so much.”

Jeanette followed the head of the household into the living room area and sat down on one of the comfortable couches as your mother ordered Shima to make some tea. Without further ado, Jeanette cut straight to the chase with a katana.

“You think courtesans are nothing but gold diggers, don’t you, ma’am?”

Even hearing that reprehensible word was enough to push your mother to the very edge of a hysterical fit.

“You didn’t come here to give me a lecture on the elegance of courtesanship, I presume?”

“I’m biologically a man, my good woman, and I was one heck of a courtesan back in my glory days,” Jeanette crossed her legs with finesse, “But look at me now. I’m sure as hell twice the lady some folks will ever be.”

“What does this have to do with my daughter?”

Jeanette’s expression turned serious. She wasn’t there to make a point; that could be saved for another day way into the future. She was just here to have a heart-to-heart. Mother-to-mother, if you will.

“Would you rather protect your daughter and have her resent you for the rest of your life, or set her free and finally earn her daughterly affection, ma’am?”

“I’m not about to discuss motherhood with a stranger.”

“But you do,” Jeanette replied with a faint smile, “If she died tomorrow, how would you feel?”

“Don’t say such horrible things! God forbid!”

“But how would you feel, ma’am?” she insisted further, utterly heartbroken at the hypothetical question herself, “Wouldn’t that bestow the worst of agonies on you? Wouldn’t you go through hell on this earth every waking minute of every day? Is there anything in this world that’s worth this pain?”

Your mother stood silent as the tea arrived, partly furious at a stranger’s audacity to talk about such unspeakable things, partly revisiting that horrendous period she had gone through with you before you accepted to get married to the O’Connor boy. She really thought you were losing it, but she had no idea why. Come to think of it, she had no idea about many things when it came to you. Why you loved the piano so. What your teachers were thinking of you. She thought you would just tell her all about it, but you never did, and with every passing day, it felt like you were slipping away from her.

She was doing exactly what she had learned from her own mother. How could she be possibly wrong?

As she was having her internal monologue, only silence ensued. Jeanette let her process her feelings for some time, but then finally spoke up for there wasn’t much time in her hands.

“Then you know what really matters to you in this life.”

She fished for something in her brand-name purse, an envelope, then made her way to your mother and sat right next to her.

“I know about your late husband,” Jeanette disclosed as she placed the envelope inside the feeble hands of the woman next to her, “I know the situation he put you in and how he put you in it, but this is not your daughter’s fault. You can’t make her pay for this.”

When your mother opened the envelope, she was met with a hefty cheque inside.

“If this is about the money, you got it. If this is about fame and prestige, she already has it, and this isn’t even a fraction of what’s to come her way. She really is very talented, ma’am,” Jeanette looked at her with very fond eyes, “Please don’t let her go through with the wedding.”

Maybe it was the little glass of brandy your mother had had earlier to fight the stress of the wedding day, but was there any truth to this stranger’s words? Was she really making you pay for things? How was securing your future making you pay for things?

Then she remembered how you wouldn’t talk to her at all but would confide in Shima instead, spending time with her all day in your room behind a locked door. You were treating her like the enemy and you were way past your adolescent years for this to be a spoiled brat hissy fit.

You didn’t even like the O’Connor boy, did you?

“We’ve– we’ve come this far. How can I ever back out of this now? What would people think? The shame of it all…”

Jeanette leaned into her with mischievously squinted eyes.

“What if you had a really good reason, and people would shame you if you didn’t back out of it?”

Enter Raquelle Schecter. Beauty queen. Famous burlesque dancer. And one hell of a temptress.

“Can’t believe you’re about to tie the knot O’Connor,” she entered the groom’s suite with her tiny dress that left very little to the imagination, “Does that mean you’re not gonna come around anymore?”

“What a pleasant surprise!” Ryan broke into a sleazy grin, “I didn’t know you were invited today.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Raquelle put her hands on his shoulders and started playing with the bowtie of his tuxedo, “But I’ve always been a little bit of a gatecrasher. I thought I could finally have my groom fantasy with my favorite man. For old times’ sake, huh? What do you say?”

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Schecter,” he melted into her lips, not even trying to hide how fucking weak he was for her.

Their kiss quickly escalated to Ryan’s favorite act, and he dropped his pants to have this beauty choke on him one last time.

“You know the drill, baby. Suck it like your life depends on it.”

“Ryan?”

It would be one thing if you were the only one standing at that door. Your mother and Bridget were on either side of you with their mouths open, unable to look away from this car crash in front of them as Ryan hurriedly pulled up his pants.

“It’s rude to keep the necklace, dear,” your mother nonchalantly spoke to you, “Give it back.”

You calmly took the necklace off, poured the chain into your palm, and launched it on Ryan’s face with all your might.

“Fuck you, O’Connor.”

As you and your mother turned around to leave, you whispered in her ear.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Once you walked out of the doors, you hugged your mother tightly, and for once her warmth felt like Shima’s to you.

“Go, dear,” she smiled through her tears as she touched your face.

She got in the backseat of the family car and told to chauffeur to drive her back home while you ran towards the opposite side of the garden as fast as you could.

“Romeo!”

Hyunjin turned around when you called out to him and opened his arms for you to run into.

“Do you still have your knife with you?”

“Always, my soul.”

He handed you the knife he used to sharpen his charcoal, and you cut through the ridiculous petticoat holding you back. You ran hand in hand with Hyunjin, just like the very first night you were running with him, but for sure into a literal sunset this time.

People use many different words when they talk about me. “Free spirit” is one of them. “Rascal” is another. Now I have something else.

Romeo.

It’s been such a long time, but it still rings in my ear as beautifully as it did the first time you called me that.

I know I said we wouldn’t have much if you married me, but apparently, that was a lie. Even before our big night, you give me so much every single day, Juliet.

You wake me up with kisses, sometimes not even on my lips. You smile so big when you see me cook breakfast for you. You don’t even get mad at me when I burn things sometimes. You listen to the poems I write for you. You let me brush your hair when you get out of the shower. You let me love you endlessly, and I’m so proud to call you my girl. My soul. My other half.

The day we finished composing our song for Ms. Simone, you wanted to name it Charcoal Blues in C Minor. I acted like I was caving and letting you have the last word when in fact I spectacularly lost my goddamn mind over it.

She promised to sing it at our wedding, by the way. Act surprised.

It wasn��t that you wouldn’t accept it if I flat out asked you, but luring you into a deal is much more fun. You know how much I love teasing you. So we shook on it. You agreed to let me draw you.

When you touch yourself.

You know exactly how to torture me, you absolute seductress. You know how I can’t think straight every time you talk to me like that. You know how my mind goes completely blank when I see you bare.

“You’re still gonna pay me for this, right?” I asked you when sharpening my charcoal, “I don’t draw for free.”

“Oh, is that so?” you stood in front of me with your arms crossed over your chest, “How much, pretty boy?”

“Five thousand.”

“Excuse you?!”

“Or you know, you could let me eat your pussy.”

God, I love it when you smile at me with fire shooting out of your eyes. That’s the sexiest fucking thing. I don’t care how many layers of clothes you have on you, it gets me instantly hard.

“Do you take the payment in advance?” you straddled me on my chair and threw your arms around my neck. I lose it every time you do that because your scent envelops me through and through. You’re much better than whiskey sours at getting me drunk.

“Always, my soul.”

Stripping you fully naked is something, but having you half-dressed for me, only bare at your most sensitive spots is something else entirely. This feels more erotic to me. Only a couple of your shirt buttons loose, just enough to let me suck on your nipples. Your underwear still on and I only slide it to the side to kiss your clit. I guess it all started when we fucked on the pool table at Poseidon that night. I still remember how hard you came, fucking—

There aren’t many surfaces of this house where I haven’t eaten your pussy, but my desk is surprisingly one of them. I’ve been saving it for this moment specifically. But I’m not gonna do the half-opened present thing today. I want to see you fully spread for me and I wanna see everything up close. The exact moment you start to drip. To start clenching. When you can’t take the teasing anymore and prop up on your elbows to watch me make out with clit.

It doesn’t change. Every time my face is between your legs, it feels like home to me. Every time I get a taste of you, I’m so grateful I’m alive.

“Lick first.”

Now, always from your entrance. Always from the source of the spring. I love spreading your own juices all around you with my tongue. I know how much it annoys you when I lick everywhere and avoid your clit at all costs, but you do trust me, don’t you? I do it for a reason.

“Kiss me.”

Of course I will. Just knowing my lips are fully covered with your slick gets to you, doesn’t it? You like it. No, you love it. You love it when I kiss the other pair of lips on your body like that. But I might be enjoying it a little too much for my own good. I always make sure to whisper my confessions to you every time I kiss you down here. It’s a little game I invented for myself. I get a kick out of it when you’re able to decipher the shameless secrets I hide in sighs and you start moaning louder.

“Suck me now.”

This is where I cease the torture. I love it when your clit gets that swollen when I barely do anything to it. It feels like you’re silently begging for me. You always say you like my lips so much, but I think I finally figured out why. When I trap your clit between them and start sucking on it, doesn’t it feel like a perfect match? It’s the perfect sleeve for you. Meant for you to sit on whenever you feel like it.

“Oh god, don’t– don’t stop!”

Oh, there it is. You’re calling out to me with that desperate tone. I fucking love it when you get impatient and start riding my face. You want it all, don’t you? You don’t want the feeling the stop because the prelude feels so good, but you do want to cum hard at the same time. You can only have one or the other, beautiful. Do you want the endless buildup?

“Hyunjin!”

Or do you want me to endlessly tease that clit until you snap? I’m in love with satisfying you, but all I can think about is how I’m gonna slide right in if I make you cum.

“FUCK!!!”

I don’t know what it is about you cursing a mouthful that turns me into an absolute wild animal, but it does. You know it does. When you cum in my mouth pushing my head down as much as you can, that’s your way of giving me permission for what I’m about to do to you. Your walls are still throbbing, yet you take me in so easily. Feeling your aftershocks on my cock is my favorite part.

Who needs lubricant when I have you?

It’s the same thing as you pushing my head down when I lick you. Even though you just came, you like it when I hit your deepest corners when you’re so damn sensitive. Me?

I love it so much that it’s actually a fucking problem now.

“Don’t– don’t clench like that. Please!”

Every time I say please, you do the complete opposite. Please touch me. You won’t. You relentlessly tease me instead. Please kiss me. You won’t. You ghost your lips on me until I fucking snap. Please make me cum. You goddamn won’t because why would you when you can edge me forever?

But when I say Please don’t make me cum…

You rip my soul out of me and chuck it down the depths of an ocean made of molten lava.

And I fucking love it when you do that and drown me in kisses afterwards.

“I love you, Romeo.”

Ms. Simone might be the first lady of song, and rightfully so. No one can dare oppose that. But you’re my first and last of everything, Juliet.

Romeo and his fair lady might have been star-crossed lovers that fell victim to a tragedy, but you and I…

I know in my heart of hearts that we are beyond forever.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

My longest one-shot to date. An homage to my first fictional love, Leo in the '90s.

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

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#GRXHSQHDNSHZ #IM SO EMO #IM A PUDDLE #this was so beautiful #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #kpop smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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CHARCOAL BLUES IN C MINOR | Preview

LEGEND 🖤Pairing · 📜Word Count · 🪐AU/Genre/Trope · 🚨 Warnings

🖤Hyunjin x (afab) Reader 📜1.5k | Approx. 6-min. read 🪐Jazz Age AU: Old-timey Romance, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Smut 🚨General themes explored (reader discretion advised): Impending forced arranged marriage, judgemental & suffocating societal/familial environment, demisexualism, heavy mutual fantasizing. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

SYNOPSIS When Hyunjin finally mustered enough courage to come up to you at the pier, he still didn't know why you were that sad. What he did know, however, was that he was down bad for you ever since you came to the jazz night at Poseidon.

DISCLAIMERS - This story has alternating POVs, and Hyunjin's POV is written in first person. - Written for @skzwritingcafe May/June event: Blossoming love🌸 Full work will be tagged appropriately when it's completed.

[...]

Changbin is my chosen brother, by the way, but I’ll get to it.

That was the moment I saw a charcoal drawing for the first time.

I begged my father for charcoal sticks and paper so that I could learn how to draw like Tiziano. Not to brag or anything, but my progress was quite fast. I’m not a genius by any means; I just don’t know how to like things. When something piques my interest, I obsess over it day and night. I lost sleep many nights trying to perfect the shading of an apple even though no one was putting a gun to my head. Mr. De Luca would scold me a lot on the mornings I was late to the barbershop because I overslept, but it wasn’t that big a deal. He would tell me not to do it again, knowing full well I would do it again. He hated the fact that he couldn’t stay mad at me for too long, calling me a ‘fucking charming spawn of the devil’. I learned a lot of the curse words in my vocabulary from him.

“Do I turn you on, Hyunjin?” she walked up to me while putting on her robe.

“You do.”

“If you want to fuck me, you can. I’m not gonna ask for any money.”

I shared my honest thoughts with her wrapped in a smile.

“But I’m not in love with you, Giulia.”

But what made me happier was seeing you for the first time on a bench by the pier one afternoon as I was looking for something to draw.

I looked at that sketch a lot in the subsequent days.

I was so drawn to you for some reason. I wanted to sit next to you and ask why you were so sad. I wanted to ask if you liked candy apples. It would cheer anyone up, right?

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to intrude on your alone time with yourself despite the raging urge inside me to do so.

Then I noticed you were there again. And again. And again.

You’re at the pier every day.

Every day, I impatiently check my watch, and when the time nears the noon, I just bolt to the pier wherever the fuck I am to see you again.

One day… One of these days I’ll muster up enough courage to come sit next to you.

[...]

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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I'm very excited about this. Hope you'll look forward to it.

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

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#‘I’d love to hold some of your apparent heartache for you if it means you can rest a little easy’#STOP IT RN #MY HEART #IM SO EXCITED #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #skz smut #stray kids smut

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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DON'T LET ME LOVE YOU | Chapter 3

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

«Shall we take it upstairs?»

ATTENTION 📜8.3k | Approx. 35-min. read 🚨Refer to series masterlist for general themes & warnings of this story: Recreational drug use, jealousy, extremely possessive language during sex, sharing/threesome, dom/sub dynamics, body worshipping, sensory deprivation, squirting, praising, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

The weather in Sunderland was so annoyingly pleasant at times. If someone told you they had ordered microclimate services to shoot some feel-good family movie here, you would say ‘That checks out’. Yet, even on a wholesome day like this with the sun shining and birds chirping, the disturbance in the force was quite palpable.

Because Hurricane Minho had made landfall.

“What’s up, hardass?” he greeted you with his unyielding smug attitude like he owned that little greasy spoon, “Settling down looks good on you. Got your minivan yet?”

“Cut the sass, bitch,” you approached his table with a grin, “Give me a hug. I’ve missed you.”

Ever since you met him, Minho’s presence in your life had been somewhat of a staple. He was that one person who just got you as if you had known each other for a lifetime. Instant connection of equally twisted souls. You wouldn’t see one another for months sometimes, but every time you were reunited, it always felt like you were never apart in the first place.

He was the closest thing you had to reliable.

“So what is this interesting intel you kept teasing for so long?” you stole a sip from the drink in front of him.

“Oh, I’m doing swell, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“Minho…”

He stared right into your soul while dragging out the silence between you as long as he could, and relaxed against the booth.

“You didn’t actually think I’d spill right off the bat, did you?” he reclaimed his glass, “You should know better.”

“Is this your roundabout way of telling me you don’t have jack shit to tell me?”

“False. I’m here for a field study.”

“About?”

“All in due time. You are gonna go first,” he pointed at your face, “Why the sudden interest in the biography of some suburbia princess? Are you that bored?”

In all honesty, yeah, maybe you kinda were. Considering the concerningly high cruising speed of your life until that moment, getting used to the faint pulse of this town was a steep learning curve. You felt like a kid on a sugar high, if not accidental doses of Adderall, and having to sit still was eating you alive. Maybe that was the reason it took you mere days until you decided to fuck around for your personal entertainment. Maybe that was the reason you wanted to find an irrefutable reason for a divorce.

Maybe on particularly unstable nights, you were even thinking of concocting one.

“Where I’m from, we know we’re assholes and we own up to it,” you suppressed your annoyance over the ghost of Casey to the best of your ability, “Cunts like her just pretend that they’re not.”

“And I’m supposed to believe this is a simple matter of ‘Bitch gets on my last goddamn nerve’ beef,” Minho raised his glass to the person behind the counter to ask for a refill, “Try again.”

“She actually does. Why is that so hard to believe?”

Minho clasped his hands on the table and broke into a complacent smile.

“You weren’t really considering getting lip fillers when you went to the hot doctor’s office after hours, were you?”

“The FU—” you immediately lowered your voice after stealing a glance from your surroundings, “The fuck, Minho, were you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. The Club checks in with everyone. You know it’s standard procedure,” he nodded to the waitstaff while accepting his refreshed glass, “Are you gonna properly tell me now?”

You shot him a death glare in exchange for the infinite amount of fun he was having with cornering you.

“If you know what it is about, why are you pressing?”

“Because your denial is fun to spectate. I want you to say it out loud.”

Out loud. Saying stuff out loud made it way too real. That was the beauty of unspoken things. You could always act like they weren’t what it seemed to be. That they didn’t exist. That it was just an illusion. A hallucination. A beautiful nightmare even.

“I need to say it to myself first,” you mumbled with your eyes intently on your fingers.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged in response, “Once you tell me, I’ll give you your intel.”

“Minho!”

“Chill the fuck down. You’ll know sooner than later,” he hurriedly shushed you, “I need to make some visits first.”

“Fine,” you heaved a deep sigh to soothe your exasperation, “You haven’t checked in to some place yet, I hope?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Here,” you slid a keycard to him across the table, which only seemed to offend Minho.

“The fuck? I’m not staying at your place?”

“You and I both know you can never keep your hands to yourself, horny bunny,” you pinched his cheek and he immediately pulled away like an extremely annoyed cat, “Jerk off to all the pay-per-view porn you want. It’s on me.”

“Oh, goodie,” he deadpanned while rolling his eyes so hard you almost heard them, “I’ll make sure to max out your credit card for this betrayal. Consider it my retainer.”

You chuckled and got up to head back home. There was an arrangement you needed to get ready for.

You walked into the jazz bar of some hotel with what looked like a large fancy shopping bag in your hand and spotted your target.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

You had agreed to be a part of this as a reality check—to remind yourself what your place was in Chris’ life and remind him that what you two had was in the realm of something else. You were two people partaking in things you absolutely should not have, and while you personally did not have a conscience problem about it, you still needed to acknowledge that you could never be anything more than that. Both of you. Period.

You placed the bag on the chair next to you, which contained a box inside, and sat down. The two men at the table seemed somewhat relaxed, each with a half-finished drink in front of them.

“Good evening,” Chris reciprocated your greeting with admiration beaming out of his eyes, “Let me introduce you to my colleague, also known as the former campus playboy, Dr. Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the ash blonde man reached for your hand to place a kiss on it, “If I knew I was going to be in the presence of a goddess tonight, I would have dressed accordingly.”

“Smooth,” you nodded with an unimpressed expression and turned to Chris, “but I call bullshit on the former part.”

Both men broke into soft chuckles and you felt Chris’ hand on your thigh under the table.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“I have a much cleaner solution to take the edge off,” you slid his hand further up your thigh, “You’re both welcome to join me instead.”

“Sounds great,” he responded without taking his eyes off you.

“I think we need to discuss our terms and conditions,” you flashed the keycard between your index and middle finger and addressed Hyunjin directly this time, “Shall we take it upstairs?”

The duo followed suit after you as you made your way to your room in silence. Once you stepped foot into the room, the first thing you did was to take out the box from the bag and place it on the nightstand as the two men made themselves comfortable on separate armchairs.

“Needless to say, everything that happens here tonight, stays here,” you dipped your hand into your purse this time to fish for your relaxer, “Can I take your word for it, or do I need to make you sign an NDA, pretty guy?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Hyunjin contently smiled at Chris. Meanwhile, you held Chris’ gaze to confirm his trust levels in this stranger.

“He’s okay,” he reassured you.

“Well, I’m personally here tonight to entertain Chris,” you opened the ornate metal box you took out from your purse and leisurely offered your guest a perfectly rolled joint as if it was a girl scout cookie, “You can do everything he allows you to do and you will do everything he tells you to do. Simple, right?”

You watched the lips of this irritatingly beautiful man curl into a wider smirk as he reached for your offering. He wasted no time filling his lungs with as much smoke as he could like he was putting on a magic trick.

“Anything else?” he asked without breathing.

You slowly walked back to Chris and sat on his lap, threw your hand around his shoulder, and clicked on the lighter to light up his joint.

“Not on my part,” you softly pecked his temple, “The floor is yours, gorgeous.”

“Let’s establish some ground rules, then,” Chris took a quick hit and placed his hand on your thigh with his eyes fixated on the man sitting across him, “No disrespect. No namecalling. No pet names. No going rogue. You can touch her, you can fuck her, you can do anything to please her as long as she allows you, but you cannot cum inside her, in her mouth, or anywhere on her body. Non-negotiable. If you’re gonna finish, you either do it in a condom or on yourself.”

Hyunjin didn’t say anything and decided to keep his carefree silence until Chris finished going through his rolodex of rules executed with slight intimidation.

“If she doesn’t let you do something, you will switch with me and I will do it for you. You can watch and direct as you please, and you can touch yourself to what you see. You’re allowed to edge her for however long you want, but if you do so, you cannot make her cum. The only way you’re allowed to finish her is if I work her to the brink of her orgasm first,” he sank his fingertips into your skin to get his point across, “Do we have a deal?”

You expected him to get up and leave after that Declaration of Independence-level set of conditions, but Hyunjin just looked at you two from the couch he was sprawled on with a sinister smile on his face, and puffed out the smoke he was holding in for quite some time.

“Where do I sign?”

You’d been silently studying Hyunjin’s demeanor starting from the moment you saw him downstairs at the bar. His aura was more complex than what you assumed it would be, emanating many things at the same time. Confidence, for sure. A tinge of arrogance. Smoldering eroticism. However, this wasn’t just some pretty face with a head full of sawdust you were dealing with. It was obvious he had no problem bedding whoever the fuck he laid his eyes on, and his silence was just a front for his calculative mind.

He reminded you of Minho a little bit.

Needless to say, this was too quick of an agreement for a guy like him, so you kept expecting what outrageous grenade he was going to throw your way soon enough. You watched him slowly get up and head to the nightstand to examine the contents of the box you placed there. Even just the first glance into it was enough to amuse him.

“I mean, we’re all here for a good time, so you wouldn’t say no to a little game, would you?”

Oh, there it is, you thought to yourself while breaking into a smile. You liked it a little too much for your own good when someone managed to intrigue you.

“What did you have in mind?” you calmly asked while pressing your head against Chris’ temple, not being able to properly hide how much you were tickled.

“We will touch you at the same time while you’re blindfolded, and you will guess who’s making you feel good,” Hyunjin wrapped the black satin ribbon around his fingers and looked towards your direction, “Two rounds and no giving hints. I’m all about fair play.”

You and Chris shared a look, and his eyes uttered ‘I knew he would pull some shit like this’ with a mischievous grin.

“If she gets both of them correctly, you’ll win. I will forfeit everything and just watch you fuck the whole night,” Hyunjin continued while making his way back with lazy steps and pointed at you, “But if I win, I get to make you cum and finish inside.”

There was a reason Chris had invited Hyunjin for that night. They knew the worst things about each other, and they both knew the other would take it to the grave. Yet, neither of them ever backed down from trying to one-up one another under the disguise of some friendly competition, be it regarding their achievements, the money they earned, the purchases they made, and apparently the woman they agreed to share for one night.

“Fine,” Chris concurred with squinted eyes.

You weren’t sure how to interpret the change in Hyunjin’s smile. It looked softer but triumphant at the same time.

“Fantastic, then,” he took out his phone to put on a song and extended his hand to you, “Can I have this dance?”

You stole a glance from Chris to ask for his permission, and once he gave the go-ahead with a light squeeze on your inner thigh, you took Hyunjin’s hand. He guided you to the center of the room and placed a barely-there kiss on your jawline before blindfolding you. After you lost your sense of sight, you felt his hands on your back gently traveling down to your waist and pulling you close to him. You were slow dancing to the sultry music filling the room, and with your vision gone, his ambery cologne was much more perceptible. With faint undertones of powder and spice, Hyunjin smelled like fatal seduction materialized.

“What do you like, goddess?” he whispered into your ear, “Tell me how you like being touched.”

Oh, this guy was good. Rather than straight up cannonballing, he was testing the waters first to ease you both into it.

You wondered whether he had ever experienced any kind of refusal before in his life.

“That’s quite an intimate piece of information, don’t you think?”

“You told me to do everything Chris tells me, and he said I could do anything to please you,” he continued with almost an inaudibly low voice as if he wanted to keep the conversation between you a secret, “I really want to please you.”

“Is that what you said to your campus conquests?”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair.”

Suave motherfucker, you inadvertently giggled at his response. He was clearly well-versed in how to be charming, knowing exactly what to say to make it seem like the other person was the only thing in this world sweeping him off his feet. And honestly? As transparent as he was, you enjoyed being the object of his attention.

“You do realize you’re here to share me with him. You’re not going to make love to me,” you attempted to knock some sense into Hyunjin even though you were both high as a kite, “We’re just going to fuck, Hyunjin.”

He sharply inhaled when you used the word fuck and his name in the same sentence. It spilled from your lips beautifully. Nonchalantly, like you didn’t care. Unfortunately for you, Hyunjin happened to be aware of how much you actually cared since you two were not the only people in the room.

And he reveled in that fact a bit too much.

“At least tell me how you’d like me to touch you tonight.”

“You don’t need an instruction manual. Just go with your instincts.”

“But what if you’re taken away from me at the best part?”

“Then too bad for you.”

After he decided he was sufficiently relaxed, Chris put out his joint and approached the two of you. You felt his presence behind you, dragging his fingers down your back starting from your nape and trailing the shape of your spine. You shuddered hard at the sensation paired with his kisses on your bare shoulders as he unzipped your dress.

While he turned you around and took your lips between his, guiding your hands to unbutton his shirt in the meantime, he wished you could see how his pupils were blown wide. Not because he was falling for a girl named Mary Jane, but because he was living his entire life being high as fuck on you. You felt the straps of your dress being dragged down to fully expose your chest as well as your underwear being discarded, but there was only one problem.

Thanks to your massively lowered inhibitions, you were already confusing who was responsible for which.

There was a loss of contact as both men pulled away from you. The only sound you heard for a moment was the playlist of sensual melodies still playing in the background.

Then you felt a pair of lips on your neck and another wrapped around your clit while two hands were pressing you closer from your hips. You switched your brain off and let yourself relish the feeling of being worshipped all over your body regardless of who was providing the ministrations. After another brief break, you felt a presence on both sides of you again. Someone was caressing your breasts from behind you whereas someone else put their hands on your waist and started kissing you.

You could taste yourself on those full lips.

“So?” you heard Hyunjin’s velvety voice hitting your eardrums from afar, “Can you tell?”

You took a deep breath to recollect yourself before answering.

“It was you on my neck the first time and kissing me the second.”

“Tsk, sorry,” his contentment was obvious from his singsongy tone, “I think that means I won, right?”

Yes, it did because you had lied.

Hyunjin could take as much pleasure in this pseudo-victory as he wanted, but you knew it was Chris between your legs and then kissing you after. You had carved the outline of his lips into your brain long ago. You had already memorized the way he moved, but if you gave it away…

If he knew that you could discern, if he knew you were able to single him out with just the way he breathed towards your general direction, that would have been a disaster. As much as it hurt like hell to pretend, you just had to let him think he didn’t matter.

Because nothing mattered as much as him and you would rather die than admit it out loud.

“I wanna see what you look like when you’re stimulated from everywhere,” Hyunjin spoke as he removed the blindfold, “Fingers in your mouth, hands on your breasts, and my mouth on your cunt.”

“Then earn it first,” you sneered and attempted to head towards the bed, “Come eat my pussy.”

“No.”

Hyunjin grabbed your wrist to stop you dead in your tracks and pointed at the armchair to his left.

“Sit on his lap.”

You were scared to look at Chris’ face to see a hint of anything. Anything would make your heart sink to your stomach, you knew that, yet you feigned the most convincing indifference while averting your eyes from him, and held his hand to make a seat for yourself just like you were instructed. Your dress was still clinging to your waist as you leaned against his warmth. You watched Hyunjin come closer and kneel between your legs.

“Now make out with him while I make out with your pussy.”

It was easy. It was so easy to lock your hand behind his nape and press his face against yours, forgetting who you were and what you were doing at that moment. It was the easiest thing to get lost between his lips still carrying a faint note of your own taste. You could fake anything and everything you wanted, but the one thing you were incapable of doing was bluffing his deep kisses didn’t absolutely shatter your soul just to piece it back together perfectly.

You wished you didn’t know how his fever spiked every time your lips touched as if you were slow dancing in a burning room. You wished he wasn’t aware of what he was doing to you every time he moaned into your mouth. You goddamn wished you didn’t fucking realize you already had each other in an absolute chokehold and it was going to consume both of you until there was nothing left.

One kiss. It took one passion-loaded kiss for Chris to come back to earth. One kiss to notice you were a half-opened present on his lap, and you two weren’t alone in the room. He was sharing you with someone else just because you had talked about it that one time. Just because you wanted to fulfill a fantasy of his.

Well, I’m personally here tonight to entertain Chris.

He felt himself get out of his own body and watched his whole entire personality change right in front of his eyes all of a sudden.

While deepening the kiss even more, he held your legs back from under your knees and spread you wider for Hyunjin, and started whispering the filthiest sweet nothings you had ever heard into your ear.

“Listen, baby. Listen to how wet your pussy is,” he kept talking in between his kisses, “Fucking dripping. Wouldn’t it sound incredible if I fucked you right here right now while he gives you the sloppiest head you’ve ever had in your life?”

Those words rendered in Chris’ husky voice sent a goddamn shockwave from your swollen clit directly to your head. You sank your fingertips deeper into his nape while pressing Hyunjin’s face closer to you.

“Chris…”

“It excites you, doesn’t it? It turns you on so bad knowing I get to watch you like this. Do you feel how hard I’m getting under you? Do you feel how fucking bad I want you? Do you?”

“Chris…”

“I wanna watch her squirt,” he firmly instructed Hyunjin, “Do your thing.”

Hyunjin slipped a finger inside you first and hooked it upwards, gently massaging your walls until he hit that one spot that made you arch into him. Without wasting any time, he locked on his target and added another finger while quietly moaning against your pussy. Chris wouldn’t stop whispering into your ear all the while and that verbal teasing was way worse than the way Hyunjin was fervently fingering you.

“You’ve fucking ruined me. I can’t fucking think straight because of you. I keep dreaming about sneaking into your bedroom and fucking you awake in the middle of the night. I keep zoning out imagining all the different ways I want to make you cum. I keep hearing your pretty moans echoing in my head. I want to make so many stupid mistakes with you. You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“CHRIS!!!”

He knew. Hyunjin may have been the one physically working you, but he knew deep inside it was him who made you snap that frantically. It was him who made you cum so hard that you drenched Hyunjin’s face, and that sight was something to be absolutely proud of.

“Don’t move,” Hyunjin assumed his position between your legs while wiping your slick off his cheeks, “Stay like that. I want to fuck you into your man.”

Your man.

Was Hyunjin aware of the nature of your relationship with Chris? Did Chris tell him to say that by any chance? Did he pick up on it himself? Even so… Even so…

Whatever the case was, it had no business titillating you this much.

Chris was still holding your legs back, and the way you were still pulsating made it way too easy for Hyunjin to find and slip into his target.

“Oh, fuck— me! Still too tight.”

He started paving his way inside you, stretching you open with shallow thrusts, and once he bottomed out, he immediately picked up his pace to feel you contract around him more.

“You wanna see something fun, baby?” Chris chuckled into your ear and looked right at Hyunjin before continuing, “Compliment him now that he’s balls deep in you and see what happens.”

You tried your best to recollect yourself and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You have no business looking this pretty while fucking like a beast.”

You felt how hard he twitched inside you. Hyunjin let out a moan so deep that you thought he was on the verge of cumming already.

“You know how pretty you are, don’t you?”

“Stop that.”

“If I were you, I would jerk off to myself in the mirror all the time.”

“Stop that.”

“Does your cum taste as sweet as your lips?”

“Oh, fuck you!” he started laughing maniacally, “I’ve never been this fucking jealous of you in my entire life, Chris. You have the perfect playmate.”

He leaned into you for a peck on your lips and looked deep into your eyes before speaking.

“I want one of you for myself.”

“Well, since you can’t,” Chris emphatically uttered with an almost taunting tone, “I think that means I won, right?”

When Hyunjin heard his own words from Chris’ mouth, he started fucking you even faster. While you thought you could handle it, the pressure became too much too fast.

“Ah, fuck…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Chris soothed you with kisses on your temple, “You’re doing incredible, baby. I’m so… so… so proud of you.”

His intentions may have lied elsewhere, but Chris’ words made you clench even harder rather than relaxing you.

“Too– too much. St– Please!”

“Easy,” he immediately urged Hyunjin to pump the brakes, “Remember our deal. You’re switching with me.”

There was no way Hyunjin could walk around this one so he had no choice but to pull out. There was an amalgam of disappointment and frustration painting his vexatiously pleasing features.

“Told ya,” you flashed a fucked out smile to him to add insult to injury, “Too bad for you.”

Knowing how sore your legs were by then, Chris took it upon himself to carry you to the bed and lay you down comfortably. You watched him strip for you, and the sight instantly caused you to salivate. You hadn't even realized how much you had missed this magnificent view, not to mention how hard and flushed he was for you.

“Just the tip?” Chris smiled, his eyes beaming with mischief. You reflected it back to him remembering the incident he was referring to.

“Fuck you, Chris.”

“By all means. Just say the word.”

You were already pretty stretched out, so he had no problem picking up where Hyunjin left off.

“Oh, fuck yeah…”

Chris could do the dirtiest things to you, say the filthiest things in hushed tones, but for some reason, it never ceased to be an absolute turn on. Whatever it was, it just felt right with him.

And it was getting a bit scary, to be frank.

You let him fuck you however hard he pleased into that mattress while Hyunjin kept kissing you everywhere from the waist up. Your neck, your chest, your stomach, everywhere he could latch his lips to. His turn getting cut short along with how loud you were moaning under Chris was causing him to leak a little too much to go unnoticed.

“He’s done a good job for you, don’t you reckon, baby? You squirted on the man’s face for fuck’s sake,” Chris spoke in between his panting, “It’s rude not to return the favor.”

The insinuation of you making him cum peaked Hyunjin’s arousal levels right away. Chris pulled you up from your wrists and turned you around. You arched your ass for him to play with you as he pleased while Hyunjin made himself comfortable under you. One lick over his slit and he was already melting in your mouth.

And it was fine for a while.

The moment Chris felt he was being poisoned by jealousy was when he noticed Hyunjin was caressing your hair as you blew him, and it reached an unbearable level after some time. You didn’t know exactly what it was, but you picked up on the fact that he was upset with something when he started fucking you harder and you eventually felt a spank on your ass.

As if to say, That’s enough. Stop touching him.

Weren’t you the one who got rid of a man solely because he attempted to declare his independence on you by sending him to jail for that matter?

Then why the fuck were you luxuriating in this possessiveness fit that much?

You cannot cum inside her, in her mouth, or anywhere on her body. Non-negotiable.

You worked Hyunjin until the last possible moment, and once his moans started becoming way too guttural, you let him out with a loud pop and jerked him off until he came all over himself.

And it was fine until he managed to come down from his euphoric high.

It only took Hyunjin stealing one kiss from your lips for Chris to start seeing blindingly red. He immediately stopped everything and spoke in an intimidatingly firm tone.

“Hyun, I need you to leave.”

You and Hyunjin were both taken aback by the sudden change in mood, having no clue how to respond to this.

“Everything o–?”

“Leave.”

Hyunjin didn’t attempt to ask any further questions. He didn’t say anything else. He just got dressed as quickly as he could and left as if he was never there to begin with. You were riddled with an uneasy feeling from head to toe.

“Chris?”

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with sheets covering him from the waist down and his head in his hands. You approached him carefully and placed your hand on his shoulder so that he would look at you. His face was all contorted—you couldn’t quite figure out whether he was angry or sad or distraught or none of it or all of it at the same time.

“Will you kiss me?” he asked with a small voice, “Please?”

Of course. Of course you would kiss him. You would kiss him for hours if you wanted. For days. For months. His lips moved slowly on yours like he was trying to suture a deep cut. A bleeding wound that you inflicted on him. You hated yourself for causing him pain in any capacity, and the urge to punish yourself for it was starting to take over you. You were apologizing to him without words, just kissing ‘I’m so sorry’s on his skin to soothe his obscure pain.

This whole thing was an attempt you thought would set things straight, but it had backfired on both of you so bad.

So… so… so fucking bad.

You pulled Chris on top of you with one harsh move and grabbed his face with both your hands.

“Grope me. I deserve to be punished.”

There was a disconcerted look on his face as if he was having a hard time comprehending what you really wanted.

“What a–”

“Fucking do it!”

His gaze was piercing through you. His kisses were devolving into gentle bites again, and he was transforming into something untameable right before your eyes. Like you wanted. Like you deserved.

“Close your eyes.”

You wanted it. You wanted it more than anything else. You wanted him to take ownership of your body. Of your soul. Of everything that made you.

You wanted him.

“You’re gonna absorb the shape of my fingertips around your neck. You’re gonna commit the way I kiss you to memory. You’re gonna cram how my tongue feels on each different part of your skin.”

You felt the way he grazed his teeth on your neck, and his sloppy kisses quickly turned into not-to-gentle sucks to mark hickeys on you.

“You’re gonna memorize the flicks of my tongue. You’re gonna memorize the shape of my lips on your clit.”

The familiar texture of his plush lips enveloped your pussy as if he wanted to devour it whole. You instinctively tangled your fingers in his hair and guided his head in that rhythm you liked so much as he lapped at your clit.

“You’re gonna learn exactly how many centimeters my fingers are and how far I can reach into your pussy. You gonna learn the sound your sopping wet cunt makes when I finger you.”

He hooked two of his fingers inside you and kept eating your pussy while disrespectfully fingering you. You had told him you wanted to be punished, and if this was his way of disciplining you, by all means, you could keep fucking things up on the regular with pleasure.

“More… Please!”

“You’re gonna remember what it feels like to fuck me,” Chris hovered over your body and tugged at your lips with his teeth, “You’re gonna remember how I fit inside you perfectly. You know why? Because you’re a sleeve for me and that’s it.”

He aligned himself with your entrance again and started fucking you with sharp thrusts, each making a point as he was hitting the most secluded corners inside you.

“You’re gonna remember how my tongue makes you cum. You’re gonna remember how my fingers make you cream. You’re gonna fucking remember how my cock inside you makes you scream, you hear me?”

His rhythm became faster just a measure and he buried his lips into yours, kissing your soul out of you in the meantime.

“Did he fuck you better than this?” he pressed his forehead against yours and spoke in whispers even though it was just the two of you, “You love it when I fuck you, don’t you? You want me.”

You clung to his shoulders as if you were holding on for dear life and wrapped your legs around him tighter.

“More,” you finally snapped your eyes open and met his categorically fiery eyes, ablaze with unadulterated passion, “Talk to me. Please.”

“You wanna get your pussy eaten? You’re gonna come to me. You wanna fuck? You’re gonna call me. You wanna cum? You’re gonna ask me. Nobody else. I’m gonna fucking condition you if that’s what it takes. You’ll only get wet for me.”

“Chris…”

“He can’t have you. He can’t. He can’t,” he kept whispering into your ear like a desperate plea, “I’m not gonna let him. I’m not gonna let anyone.”

“Look at me.”

“You’re mine, you hear me? Only mine. I can’t fucking stand the thought of someone else touching you!”

“Stop being this fucking hot, I’m already under you!!!”

As you both erupted into pure rapture, one thing was crystal clear for you. No matter how much he thought he could do it, Chris wasn’t able to tolerate certain things. As much as you weren’t able to tolerate his wife for that matter.

Your arrangement for the night did not include a sleepover, and the fact that Hyunjin wasn’t there anymore did not change it. You both took a quick shower and headed back home in his car. You were supposed to get off two blocks away, but right before you got off…

“I think we need to talk.”

You turned back to him with somewhat of a worry on your face.

“Everything okay?”

“No.”

Oh…

“I don’t know what happened back there and I don’t want to say something I’ll regret. I think it’s better if I sleep on it.”

“O… kay?” you raised your brows trying to figure out where he was headed with this.

“I’m traveling tomorrow for a conference. Let’s meet when I come back, okay?”

No conversation prefaced with We need to talk ended up being good news.

Your chest tightened.

A week passed in nothing but worry. There was no word from Chris, and you certainly didn’t want to bust the man’s balls in the middle of a conference like, Oh hey, it’s the gal you’re fucking every once in a while. What were we going to talk about because I’m running out of nails to chew on.

A week. That week dragged on for three months.

The night Chris returned, he asked if he could come over for a quick visit, and you almost flatlined. You weren’t even sure what you were feeling anymore. The pale blues of anxiety had faded into the bleak gray of dread. You welcomed him through your backyard door and attempted small talk as if you didn’t want to yell at his face to spill his guts.

“How was the conference?”

“Boring to an average person,” he responded as casually as he could manage, “But I had a blast.”

Did that blast also include some out-of-town shenanigans by any chance?

You attempted to turn on the floor lamp right by your couch, but Chris stopped you at the last second.

“Don’t.”

“Why? You wanna sit in the dark?”

“I’m– Yeah, I kinda want that actually.”

You creased your brows in confusion and plopped down on your couch, running out of patience for him to get to the fucking point already. Chris sat down on the edge of his seat and finally began narrating his piece.

“Listen, I don’t know how to say this and not come across as an absolute dick, so I’m just gonna go ahead and say it.”

“Okay?”

“The night of our… hangout,” he briefly paused, trying to pick the correct words, “I realized that I’m definitely not made for this.”

You had taken a bullet to your arm once and that still hurt way less than this. What were you expecting? What the actual fuck were you expecting? To drive off into the sunset with him? How the fuck were you this oblivious that the very back of your subconscious was actually picking out wedding dresses while you were living in fucking denial? Stupid. You were oh so so so fucking stupid.

“I understand.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking! The idea sounded sexy in my head, but it made my fucking blood boil. I almost threw an uppercut on Hyunjin’s face.”

Throw a what on Hyunjin’s what now?

You cocked a brow, genuinely not following the flow of the conversation at all.

“I know I have absolutely no right to ask you this,” Chris held your hands in his, “but please don’t ask to invite someone else between us again.”

You expected him to continue, but he stopped. You were looking at him with such a blank stare that Chris thought you were having a stroke for a moment.

“That’s– That’s it?” you twisted your face with something akin to bewilderment.

“Yeah, why?”

You took the deepest breath of your life from your nose and cracked your fingers. You were fucking furious for what he’d put you through for a goddamn week, and this motherfucker had the audacity to utter the most clueless, Yeah, why? of the millennium. You started punching him on the arm with gradually more painful strikes.

“Why the fuck… would you say… we need to TALK… if it DOESN’T MEAN—”

“Hold up, hold up,” he grabbed your wrists in a hurry, “You thought… You thought I wanted to end things between us?”

“DUH?!?!”

To say that you were fuming would be a massive understatement, yet Chris was looking at you with utter endearment on his face.

“It’s way too late for that, don’t you think?”

“Why, did the stores close? Jesus fucking…”

When he started laughing, your frustration levels reached such a peak that you started pacing in your living room. Chris eventually got up to stop you and held onto your shoulders.

“I know we can never have a normal relationship, but I don’t give a fuck about being just friends with you,” he spoke more seriously, “Well, we’ve never really been friends anyway.”

You felt your annoyance melt away instantly, but something else was rapidly replacing it.

Panic.

“We… we said—”

“I know what we said,” Chris’ smile was long gone by then, “That was me-falling-hopelessly-in-love-with-you ago.”

No. No, no, no, no, don’t say that. Don’t fucking say that.

“Chris, don’t–”

“Do you love me?”

A question made up of four words. It had single-word answers. It should have been easy. It should have been fucking easy to respond. Either in the form of the truth or a blatant lie. Or something political as an emergency move. Just… something. But you were drawing a total blank.

“Please.”

“Yes or no. How I feel about you will not change,” he insisted, “Do you love me?”

Your eyes were uncontrollably welling up. Your voice came out so tiny that it wouldn’t be audible at all if the deep night didn’t render your living room deafeningly quiet.

“Please,” a single teardrop let itself run free down your cheek, “Please don’t let me love you, Chris.”

You wanted to nuke everything to the ground when he smiled that brightly. You wanted to fucking die when he kissed you that passionately. You wanted to resurrect again in another life just to be with him as the first and only man you had ever fallen in love with.

You wanted to run away far far far away from this cruelly ugly reality.

“I’m guilty of deciding the conferences I attend based on location as much as the next person, so sue me,” he leisurely shrugged, “An artist I’ve been admiring for so long lives there.”

Without saying anything else, he took his top off, looking very proud of what he was showing to you. The only source of light illuminating the room was the moonlight seeping through the window, and it was directly cast on Chris like a custom-made spotlight for him. He took your hand and pressed it on the tattoo on the left side of his chest, which depicted a tribal wolf head adorned with thistles.

“It’s you and me, baby,” he launched his devastatingly endearing dimples for you, “I’m wearing you on my body.”

You lost your fucking mind seeing that.

You were literally under his skin. Forever. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream your lungs out. You wanted to slap him into oblivion. You wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

You didn’t do any of that.

You pressed your lips on his tattoo and kissed it delicately instead. You kept kissing it while gently pushing him back against the sofa. You kept kissing it, and his torso, and his crotch while you were getting on your knees. Your mouth didn’t leave his skin for one second as you slowly rid him of his pants. You took your sweet time worshipping his abdomen and crotch just to see watch him twitch and get harder for you. Just to see him leak more and more. Just to listen to how his breathing quickened and how he started whining for you to wrap your lips around him.

“Taste me. Taste what you do to me.”

You licked a clean stripe starting from his shaft and pressed your tongue on the vein on his cock to feel his pulse on your tongue. It was as rabid as yours. Indubitably.

“I can barely move,” Chris let out a silent exhale, “You own me.”

You took him in the warmth of your mouth and let him guide you in a slow rhythm that he liked. Your end goal was not to make him cum. You just wanted to feel him. You wanted to say things that you didn’t know how, desperately hoping he would understand them.

“Come up, baby,” he pulled you to himself from your shoulders, “Please.”

You let him slowly take your clothes off and straddled him. You may have fucked each other before, but never this deep. Never this lazily. Never like you had all the time to kill in the world. Just kissing one another into the night. Chris was fucking his existence deeper into you and colonizing your soul with every thrust. It didn’t belong to you anymore–it was his exclusive property.

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” he whispered against your neck, “I know. Me too.”

He pressed your hand on his tattoo again. You felt his heartbeat on your fingertips. Inside you. Throbbing. You didn’t have blood running in your veins anymore. Your heart was pumping Chris to course through your whole body.

“I love you,” he softly spoke while looking deep into your eyes, “Please, at least let me say it. I love you so very much.”

You had never cum to hearing those three cursed words before, but in your defense, nobody had ever uttered them to you while they were deep inside you while being fully aware you were synonymous with the final circle of hell.

“Let’s go away next weekend,” Chris brushed your hair back to see your face better on his chest, “Just you and me.”

“And how will you be explaining your sudden absence?”

“At any given time, there’s always a conference going on somewhere.”

You giggled at his words and pulled yourself up to throw your arms around him.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he pecked your smile, “Bring your favorite toys again. I might have plans for them.”

You were at the same greasy spoon waiting for Minho when your phone rang. You couldn’t help the smile on your face, not because it was Chris’ name on the screen, but because you knew Jisung had invited him for a guy’s night out to get trashed.

“So I’m assuming you’re alive?”

You heard an extended groan on the other end of the line, which made your giggle turn into a full-on cackle.

“I’m… never… drinking… again.”

“Methinks somebody forgot what having fun looks like.”

“I don’t remember anything after the third glass. These guys can drink,” Chris spoke in a somewhat sleepy voice, “Jisung says it was a super fun night, so I’ll just take his word for it.”

“Glad you got to relive your frat boy memories,” you kept giggling and finally spotted Minho from afar, “I gotta go now. Talk to you later?”

“You’d better. I need to be nursed back to life with a million kisses.”

You hung up the phone as Minho settled down in front of you while opening the button of his blazer.

“Tell me you have something for me, Min. This is getting fucking ridiculous.”

“So you’re ready to admit it now?”

You were glaring at him as if you could instantly master the Jedi mind tricks to make his head blow up.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say you got it bad for the doctor dude and you want the wife out of the picture.”

“On my deathbed.”

“Suit yourself,” Minho immediately buttoned his blazer back and stood up to leave, which prompted you to instinctively cling to his arm.

“Fine!”

He glued his eyes on you and pointed at his watch to remind you that the clock was ticking, and you managed to stitch some syllables together due to running out of every other option.

“I'm– I lo– I–”

“Let’s not wait for the grass to grow, shall we?”

“I love him,” you coursed through the words as if you were rapping them with incomprehensible dictation, “There, happy?”

“Attagirl. Was that so hard?” he patted your head and slammed a file on the table, “Ya girl fucking psycho.”

“What is it?”

“May we have two peach iced teas, please? She’s paying. Thank you very very much,” Minho placed an overly polite order and turned to you again, “I called the admissions office to ask about their alumna currently going by the name Casey Bang for a profile for the city council newsletter. Guess what they said to me.”

“That they wished her a very ‘step on a lego’.”

“Better. They have no record of her.”

“They what?” you widened your eyes in shock, “So she didn’t graduate from Yale?”

“Well, she has a diploma from Yale. What she doesn’t have is conclusive evidence of her attending a single class,” he took a large gulp from his iced tea, “Which immediately led me to call Mingi.”

Everybody who had ever done business with The Club recognized the holy name of Song “Xerox” Mingi. He was the top brass of the counterfeiters of The Club. Your jaw dropped all the way to the floor.

“No shit! Malibu Barbie forged that diploma?”

“Affirmative. She did attend college somewhere south, though, but her records show me that she dropped out,” Minho tutted in disapproval, “Fucking sloppy work. If you’re gonna do something like this either leave no trace behind or be a little lowkey, jesus. Why the fuck did it have to be some Ivy League school?”

Was that some piece of useful information? Yes. But it was a single-bullet gun that required careful planning on how to use it.

“Anything else?”

“All I know for sure is that this marriage is a fraud. I mean, you would know. We collaborated on several projects together.”

“You think she has something on him?”

“Yes, and I’m trying to find out what it is. This doesn’t seem like some ‘minor leagues’ thing,” his tone turned serious all of a sudden, “Don’t jump the gun just yet. I still got a bunch of stuff to learn, but I think I have a pretty solid lead. I wanna try something to confirm my hypothesis.”

“Try what?”

Minho leaned into the table and spoke with the straw still in his mouth.

“We’re gonna invite the ghosts of her past over and make ‘em say boo.”

«TO BE CONTINUED»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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#‘we’re gonna invite the ghosts of her past over and make ‘em say boo’#STOP THATS SUCH A CUTE LINE #i love how unhinged reader is #and chan #and just everyone at this point rly #AND THE LIL MINGI CAMEO #as a staytiny i love it here #i’m slowly catching up !🖤🫶🏻#bang chan smut #chan smut #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #stray kids angst

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bxffietheblxxdy · 1 year

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HOSTS REQUESTED: Lee Felix & Hwang Hyunjin

«ONE NIGHT AT BACK DOOR COLLECTION MASTERLIST»

HOST PROFILE 🔸Name: Lee Felix 🔸Attracts: “I can fix him” collectors 🔸Characteristics: Sexy af wild demon with a filthy mouth [Needs revision: Delete this. You'll summon exorcists here; we're trying to remain lowkey -Chris] 🔸Name: Hwang Hyunjin 🔸Attracts: Worship/smoldering looks trash community [Needs revision: Literally why the fuck couldn't you use "community" by itself??? -Chris] 🔸Characteristics: Seductive prince. Everything is erotic to him. 🔸Why patrons love them: Their rivalry shit spices up the “desired by both” experience.

IT TAKES TWO 🖤Felix x (afab) Reader x Hyunjin 📜7.7k | Approx. 33-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Roleplaying, kink introduction, mc is a regular of Felix and they have long-standing agreed-upon terms, recreational drug use, depictions of sexual deviance, an unconventional take on cumplay, rimming, pegging, sharing/threesome, M/M makeout session, BDSM—dom/sub dynamics, masochistic tendencies (feat. marking, biting, hair pulling); double penetration, sex toys, anal play, edging, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected sex. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

L Practice your begging until you see me again

You smirked at the screen seeing who the text was from, then locked your phone to go about your day.

Long ago, you hadn’t made much of it when Chris invited you to the exclusive launch party of his new business. Sure, whatever, just another night to get trashed, dance a little, and maybe meet some people who were compelling enough to hold your attention for more than five minutes.

They weren’t exactly in abundance lately.

You had no idea when Chris said ‘club’, he was actually referring to a house of pleasure, and courtesy of your long-standing friendship, he was offering you the privilege of opening one of the boxes that night.

“Since you like keeping things interesting, I recommend him,” he pointed at one of the guys hanging out in the lounge area, “He knows his shit.”

The target of your gaze was an annoyingly attractive man with longish blonde hair, sprawled on a couch getting high as shit with his crew. With the ample amount of stardust covering his face, he looked like a pretty nebula in human form under those colorful neon lights bouncing off the cloud of smoke. Judging by the way his eyes were beaming with mischief, he was for sure the vice president of monkey business around here.

You didn’t make much of it. You weren’t making much of anything lately. He was probably going to try and wiggle his way out of this once the realization sank in anyway.

Once he noticed you were more than he could chew.

“Fine,” you agreed, unfazed, “Arrange it.”

Not long after, you found yourself in a room reminiscent of a lavish Vegas suite. You had to give it to Chris and Minho; it would certainly be impressive for someone who hadn’t already seen it all.

Not you.

“So, how does this work?” you addressed the man in an aloof tone while plopping down on the huge sofa, “I wasn’t given an instruction manual.”

“Yeesh, not even gonna ask me my name first?

“Why bother?” you shrugged, “We’re not gonna see each other again.”

He keenly scanned you from head to toe while slowly walking past you, examining your blank eyes and hyper-focusing on the absolute neutrality on your face. He was used to people explicitly drooling over his looks, not to complete indifference. He had a disproportionate amount of pride in his skills; that was the reason Chris included a bunch of addendums to his contract so that he would agree to work here in the first place.

The matter of the fact was you were both in this room fully aware that you were going to fuck, but you weren’t even exhibiting a shred of anticipation as he walked across that spacious room clad in warm beiges, soft peaches, and light browns. You watched him make two double shots of apricot espresso and sit right next to you.

Yeah, there it is, you thought to yourself as his lips parted to say something, You’re gonna say some shit you think is going to seduce me and it’s not gonna work. I’m not one of them.

“You’re bored,” he spoke matter-of-factly while handing you your cup, “This is not even slightly interesting to you.”

The declaration was nowhere near the vicinity of what you were expecting. To say that you were taken aback would be a massive understatement.

“Why would you say that?”

“This is not my first rodeo. I know when the other person is excited,” he brought the bright yellow porcelain mug to his lips, “Chris says he specifically recommended me to you, which means you’re into the no-holds-barred stuff.”

Listening to him talk was quite reminiscent of holding your hand under running water and thinking it was ice cold whereas it was actually scorching hot. It took a while for your synapses to register the correct sensation for how staggering it was. He had already uttered six sentences, but the sound of his voice just started to take effect. Tranquil. Profound. Hints of persuasion and deviousness. Could be straight up commanding under the right circumstances. You noticed the way he was enunciating every single word in that rich tone had a curious impact on you.

As if you could feel them on your skin.

“You’re a control fiend, but the thrill has worn off, hasn’t it?” he flashed a sly smile.

It took everything in your power to keep a poker face so as not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hit the nail on the head.

Sex could be many things. A love language, a conversation, a simple trade-off that didn’t have to mean anything more than momentary satisfaction.

For people like you, it was the way for genuine intimacy to be stymied before it could even begin to seep through your skin. Something to keep people at fucking bay, at many many many arms’ length.

No names, no words of affection, absolutely nothing that could hint at fondness. Proper hierarchy established with copious amounts of imperative sentences. A performance that didn’t care about the other people in the room. Not one bit. This was only for your gratification. Sex was nothing more than some twisted Pavlovian masturbation.

Your rendition of it surely wasn’t for everyone for it was draining. It was basically chess you played naked, and also one of the main reasons you didn’t get as much ‘laid’ as normal people. Even if you were in the mood to play, it wasn’t that easy to find enthusiastic accomplices. Or trying to explain yourself. Or trying to mentally prepare yourself for all the incoming judgment all over again. Or trying not to flinch when someone called you a freak to your face for the jillionth time.

All the more reason to stop searching.

But this man…

You hadn’t said a word to him about any of this. He just studied your posture, your gaze, and the bare minimum of words you uttered. He didn’t even call you a control ‘freak’ when that was actually the commonplace term. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel shamed.

You felt exposed instead, but for some odd reason, it didn’t immediately induce an urge to bolt out of there. It didn’t feel unsafe.

“Why don’t you hand me the ropes for once?” he calmly suggested, “You’ll like the change.”

“I will let you dom me?” your jeering tone came out louder than you intended, “And you think that’s going to get me excited.”

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He finished his remaining coffee and placed the mug on the coffee table with unrushed movements.

“Because it’s new,” he uttered while stretching his right arm over the backrest of the sofa, “Not to mention this is a professional establishment. You’re safe here.”

You wouldn’t know. You had never tried it the other way around. You had never trusted anyone to try it the other way around. Granted, this wasn’t some random dude you were going to blindly believe—he was a professional. An employee of one of your close friends for that matter. Therefore, if you ever considered trying this…

“You’ll give me my power when you want and how much you want,” he continued upon your silence, “If you think about it, I’ll still be obeying you.”

You had never thought about it that way before. The more he spoke, the more compelling his arguments were becoming. He carried on with his bargaining with you.

“You can get as whatever-your-version-of-dirty-is as you want; you’re not gonna surprise me. I only have one thing to ask in return.”

He scooted closer and looked right into your eyes like he was about to let you in on a little secret.

“You will not hesitate to inflict pain on me when you feel like it,” he asserted firmly, “No auxiliary items, just you. You can grope, bite, scratch, basically a free-for-all as long as it remains within the context of pleasure. Sounds reasonable?”

That night, you had walked into that room with the intention of introducing your demons to him, but turns out he was one himself. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning.

“What are your hard no’s?”

“No kissing. And nothing extreme,” you immediately responded as if someone pinched you, “The rest is pretty much the standard. I’m okay with bluffing of things as well as mild pain.”

“So I can bite you, too?” he asked with a mischievous smile.

“Within the scope of mild pain, yes you can,” you emphasized semi-jokingly, “Dose yourself accordingly.”

“Gotcha. We’ll need a safeword,” he took a second to pretend he was thinking hard, “If anything becomes too much for you, you say Felix. Clear?”

You nodded and took his extended hand to you to follow him to the bedroom area.

“Are you nervous?”

“Just a tinge,” you admitted, “I uh– I haven’t done this before.”

“I’ll make the adjustment seamless,” he smirked, “You’re still domming me. You’re just letting me delude myself into thinking I have control over you.”

He opened one of the drawers of the nightstand and started taking out a bunch of stuff. Various toys, cuffs, bottles of lube, satin ribbons, blindfolds…

“I’ll discard everything you don’t want,” he pointed at the items with his thumb, “Name it.”

You didn’t particularly spot anything unpleasant among them so you gave the greenlight to his little curation.

“Now I need your explicit consent,” he stood right in front of you, “You can stop me at any time with your safeword, but I will not ask for approval for every single thing I’ll do. I will tell you to do things and you will not talk back. Do you hand over your power to me strictly for your own pleasure?”

This was what it boiled down to, wasn’t it? You felt like you were on the brink of signing a contract with him and you were still trying to find a loophole that the terms could be used against you. Nevertheless, he kept reassuring you that all you needed to do was to waive control for your pleasure. And you could stop him whenever you wished. Ironclad. Pretty simple.

“Yes, but…”

You briefly averted your eyes from him, not knowing how to properly word it.

“Keep talking to me.”

“I will. Unless my mouth is full,” his eyes sparkled with mischief again, “Strip me.”

You started discarding his clothes as he did the same to you with unhurried movements. Not long after, you found yourself lying down on the bed with your hands holding onto the vintage headboard.

“How are you with overstimulation?” he asked while grabbing a pair of handcuffs.

“I can handle it.”

“Edging?”

“I’m not exactly known for my patience,” you sarcastically chortled.

“Good to know.”

You heard the clank of the metal locking over your head, cuffing you to the bedframe for good. He hovered over your body and came as close to your face as he possibly could with nothing but a demoniac smile plastered to his lips.

“I’m never letting you cum tonight, and it’s going to be fucking delicious.”

From that moment on, you lost all sense of time. It may have been five minutes or five hours; you had no way of knowing. The gear change was so gradual that it was unnoticeable to the naked eye. Within a span of however long that was, you were exposed to so many different means of stimulation on different parts of your body. Every time the volume of your sounds of pleasure suddenly peaked, he immediately deprived you of it, adding another item to the list of the things he was going to use to eventually crumble you. You hated to admit it, but he was right. This was new. This was lightyears away from the disaster you thought it would be.

It was indeed fucking delicious.

The last thing you remembered from your consciousness was the order he kept repeating as the sweat from his body dripped onto your chest.

“Beg for me,” he was lazily fucking into you with a bullet vibrator over your clit, “Beg to cum, or else I’m gonna make you fucking sob.”

“FELIX!!!”

That did it. He finally stopped torturing you and threw your legs on his shoulders, very clearly signaling he was about to pass through you.

“Now you know my name. Don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

You had never felt an orgasm coursing throughout your entire body before, starting from your crotch, going straight to your head, and doing a complete lap in your bloodstream. You squeezed him inside you so hard that there was no way he could resist cumming hard, not that he was planning on pulling out in the first place when you felt that good. Feeling super out of strength all of a sudden, he collapsed on you, and much to your own surprise, it was actually welcome that he did.

“Y/N.”

He lifted his head to properly discern what you were saying.

“Hm?”

“My name,” you tried your best to control your breathing with your eyes still closed, “It’s Y/N.”

And that night forged the bizarre connection between you and Felix that would be incomprehensible to an average person.

L Practice your begging until you see me again

You smirked at the screen seeing who the text was from, then locked your phone to go about your day.

Again. You were basically an inaugural patron now, visiting Back Door at regular intervals to spend time with your designated host. You were both aware of the rules: no association with each other outside the club, but it wasn’t like you were getting some extra content for free. No one would be able to protest against a couple of harmless texts that didn’t amount to anything. It was always initiated by him a couple of days prior to your appointment to build you up, as he called it.

He. Felix. Your designated host. Or whatever the fuck kinda title was more suitable for the twisted relationship you had.

You hadn’t really planned for it. You had always booked your appointments on Fridays, and this year, Valentine’s Day just happened to fall on a Friday, but Felix still called you a day before to ask whether you would approve if he invited another host as a guest to your regular session.

“I thought we could make it a little spicier this time.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Then he went on to explain the details of the little plan he concocted. You intently listened to every single sentence he uttered. Unless you were making shit up, the way he was talking into that receiver seemed a little more enthusiastic than his usual calm tone.

“So basically, we’re going to stick to our own routine, but you can be your usual self with him. He knows what that means,” Felix punctuated his brief for you, “How does that sound?”

You found yourself biting into your lips. Throughout your time together, he had never suggested anything of this nature, much less with another person involved. You couldn’t help letting your curiosity get the best of you.

“And what was the inspiration for you to come up with this idea?”

He took a moment before he answered, “I know we’re not supposed to exchange gifts with our patrons, but I felt like giving one to you,” he admitted with a somehow smaller voice, “So? What do you say?”

“Well, it’s definitely interesting,” you involuntarily chuckled, “Fine, I’ll play along. We’ll see how it turns out.”

You expected him to end the call, but only a brief silence ensued after your response. Three seconds. Four. Five. Then you finally heard his voice again on the other end of the line.

“I can’t wait to see you again.”

See you again. He didn’t say host you again. Even though you briefly felt something hitch in your throat, you immediately slapped yourself to come to your senses.

“See you tomorrow night, Lix.”

You couldn’t quite figure out what caused you to lose sleep that night.

Blue.

Anyone who caught a single glance of him would guess black, but Felix loved the color blue. All shades of it. He had a particular thing for you dressing up in blue for his viewing pleasure. It didn’t matter what. Could be a blouse, a belt, the tiniest stone on a ring…

But you knew for a fact that he particularly lost his shit when you covered your most intimate parts with it. Preferably with lace.

Blue.

Everything on you was in different shades of blue that night. As a gift for him. When you walked into that familiar room, a little part of him just wanted to admire you for hours on that couch, but the more untameable part of him was dying to see how much more blue you were hiding underneath that dress.

“I haven’t even done anything,” he pressed his fingers on the moist stain of your indigo underwear, “Have you been thinking about me?”

“Maybe,” you looked at him daringly, “Did you miss me?”

“Miss you?”

You couldn’t even process how quickly he managed to wrap his arm around your waist to pull you flush against him.

“I’m losing my goddamn mind because of you, you fucking tease,” he grazed his teeth against your jawline and whispered, “Hurt me again.”

Everything on you was blue that night except for your nails. They were burgundy. A delightful contrast to the cold but calming color you were clad in. In the exact shade of Felix’s eyes when he forgot who he actually was when he was with you.

You ripped the buttons off his shirt and straddled him to start marking your planned route on him again. Your hands on his shoulder started sliding down on his back, and the smooth touch quickly turned into a cursive calligraphy practice with your nails as his favorite fountain pen. He was loving the way you were marking hickeys on his neck at the same time, delightfully hissing at your ministrations.

“Just like that,” he breathily moaned with his eyes closed, “More.”

When he least expected it, you pulled on his hair to make him arch towards you, exposing even more of his skin for you to taste. The way you could feel his growing erection under you made you chuckle.

“You just can’t help but get hard, can you?”

“No backtalk,” he groped your hips as a warning, “Not with me.”

Right at that moment, you heard a knock on the door. As Felix got up to open it, you grabbed the metal case laying on the coffee table to light up a joint and sprawled on the couch.

“What do you want?” he deadpanned, slightly annoyed at the alleged gatecrasher.

“Tonight’s a bust. I need to borrow some weed.”

You instinctively turned your head in the direction of the source of this velvety voice while making smoke rings to temporarily entertain yourself. The second your eyes met, a dangerously content smile appeared on the tall man’s lips. The aura he was exuding was eerily similar to Felix’s—not quite the same, but it was as if they shared the same core.

If you thought about it, graphite and diamond were both the purest forms of carbon, but nobody was ever proposing with princess cut graphite rings, no?

“Oh, look who’s here,” he leaned against the doorframe and nodded towards you, “Fuck weed. Can I borrow your girl instead?”

“Does my girl look like emergency blue balls repellent to you?”

“No, but she does look like she would fucking blow my mind,” he continued with his squinted eyes intently on you and directly addressed you, “You’re in the wrong room, kitten. Mine is right nextdoor.”

“Read the room, mate. I’m kinda busy here.”

You were watching their back and forth with a faint smile on your lips. You were aware that this was going to be the scene of the night, but their performance was a little too convincing. The dialogue they were partaking in might have been make-believe, but their obvious rivalry most certainly was not.

“Be nice, Lix. Sharing is caring.”

This was your cue. You walked to the door with the joint in your hand and blew the smoke right in Hyunjin’s face, feigning slight irritation.

“Did you need something, Hyunjin?”

“I was just telling him you wouldn’t mind me hanging out,” he ogled you from up close, “I can at least watch, right?”

You and Felix shared a brief look, then your eyes darted to Hyunjin again. You scanned him from head to toe as if a comprehensive data readout was going to pop up right next to him in digital clock letters. You placed the joint in his mouth and gestured to him with two of your fingers to come in. He followed suit right after you and made himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch.

You can be your usual self with him. He knows what that means.

Your usual self possessed much more dominant inclinations, and you used to think feeding those tendencies was the only way for you to reach satisfaction. Then you met Felix, and he somehow managed to rewire your brain throughout your time together. For himself.

You still didn’t think you would willingly give up control for anyone else other than him because he was the only one you trusted to lower your defenses around.

Because he had earned that trust from you.

“So what’s the real purpose of your visit?” you asked Hyunjin as you reached for the glass Felix filled with green banana liqueur on ice, “I’m sure Lix is not your only plug around here.”

“I was bored,” he shrugged, “Not much to do around here when you don’t have someone to entertain, so I came to entertain myself instead.”

“You didn’t have a patron today?” you raised your brows questioningly, “What is it? They bailed on you?”

“It’s by choice. I don’t take appointments on Valentine’s Day.”

“Because?”

“On principle,” he responded in a tone stuck between dead serious and infinitely sarcastic, “I’m saving myself for the right person.”

You inadvertently burst out laughing. If he was joking, it was funny. If he actually meant it, it was fucking hilarious considering what he did for a living.

“The right person. Of course,” you continued with a straight face, “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding them. An homme fatal who’s been inside half the city is the ultimate dream guy of many people, after all.”

Hyunjin’s smirk grew wider upon your words. People of your disposition weren’t exactly common to come by in this place, and he loved it when he was in the presence of one.

“So you think I fall under the category of homme fatal,” he emptied his lungs, “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“You think this is what seduction looks like?”

“No, this is what sexual tension looks like,” he responded without a pause, “You know I can have you anytime I want, right?”

It was now Felix’s turn to enjoy the push and pull between you. He knew what you were like and he knew what Hyunjin was like, so he knew for a fact that Hyunjin met his match for a good battle of the wits, and it was entertaining the crap out of him.

“Is this what they teach you to say in escort school?” you quipped still with your poker face on.

“Maybe,” he relaxed in his seat with a knowing smile, “I’ll have you know I graduated summa cum laude.”

“Just because it has cum in it, it doesn’t mean you’re the shit, pretty face,” you scoffed, “I’ll believe it when I see it for myself.”

“Ouch, the kitten has claws,” then he addressed Felix directly, “Can I pet her?”

“You’ll get your throat slashed in half, but suit yourself, mate.”

You tapped on Felix’s thighs to signal him to get up and both of you headed towards the bedroom. You stood right behind Hyunjin still sitting on the couch and put your hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe we should give you an orientation first. Then we’ll see how much of a summa you can cum laude,” you dragged your hand across his nape as you walked into the bedroom, “Time to put your money where your pretty mouth is.”

He took one glance at your hand and followed after you with a content smile on his face.

There was a bunch of stuff already spread out on Felix’s nightstand. Nothing too out of the ordinary than the usual kit you used. Several toys, satin ribbons, and a clear glass vial with a dropper containing some white liquid. After stripping you bare in his bed, Felix rested against the headboard and shifted you to lay you down on his lap.

“Spread your legs.”

As Hyunjin crawled on the bed to watch you from up close, Felix reached for one of your recent favorites—which was a clit sucker—as well as the vial. He sucked the liquid into the dropper and smeared it around the silicone head of the toy.

“This new?” Hyunjin pointed at the vial with his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this lubricant before.”

“Because you can’t. This is custom-made,” he explained nonchalantly and shot a devious grin towards Hyunjin, “When we run out, she makes me cum again, and I keep a little vial for her.”

Hyunjin reflected the smirk back to Felix, and absolutely took that idea to the bank to try for himself some time.

“Watch. You can’t pet her right off the bat. You need to let her come to you,” he instructed as if demonstrating an actual tutorial, “Keep her legs apart for me.”

Hyunjin could feel the heat waves emitting from your body even before touching your bare thighs. There wasn’t even anything intense happening, but his throat was already dry.

The soft silicone head of the device was wrapped around your clit completely. Felix turned it on at the lowest setting, and the vibrations were so faint that it felt like you were getting your clit teased only with the tip of his tongue, causing you to automatically close your eyes and relax against his chest.

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

“How’s the suction?”

“Incredible.”

“Does it suck you better than I do?”

You inadvertently snickered while having the time of your life on his lap.

“Nothing comes close to your lips.”

When he increased the pressure, you moaned sharply and arched towards Hyunjin. The precise stimulation felt amazing on your body. Every time Felix pulled the toy away and pressed it back on your clit, it made sticky wet sounds, and it was so nice to listen to like your custom-made ASMR.

“See?” Felix addressed Hyunjin while caressing your hair, “She’s purring.”

“Damn, you’re dripping,” Hyunjin groaned at the way you were already oozing on the sheets, “Does it really feel that good?”

“Oh, she loves this, don’t you?” Felix answered on your behalf, “Can’t get enough of it.”

Hyunjin kept keenly watching the way you were involuntarily clenching with pleasure, and he was practically drooling because of how wet you were.

“Fucking pretty,” he licked his lips with a tunnel vision on your throbbing hole, “Begs to be fingered.”

You flinched in anticipation, but Felix put a stop to it before you could even say something.

“Shh, shh, shh, no. No one’s getting fingered,” he squeezed your left thigh as a gentle warning, “You’re just gonna lay here and enjoy getting sucked.”

He increased the pressure some more to remind you of some facts. With the amount of slick you were secreting and your moans getting louder, Hyunjin was having a tough battle with self-control.

“You look fucking delicious. So juicy,” he couldn’t help biting into his lips, “And you smell incredible. God, I wanna lick your cunt so bad.”

“You hear that? He wants to lick you,” Felix chuckled into your ear, “Look at how he’s watching you between your legs. He’s waiting for one sign to go to town on that pussy.”

You opened your eyes as if waking up from a dream, and the first thing you noticed was Hyunjin’s lips. Hyunjin’s fucking perfectly shaped plush lips that were obviously made to be wrapped around something at all times. They should have modeled those clit suckers after his mouth.

“Well, you can’t,” Felix continued, “Be patient. You’re here to serve, not be served.”

“Which is what I would do if someone didn’t gatekeep,” the irritation in Hyunjin’s voice was palpable, “Why use a placeholder when you can have the real thing?”

“Because you can’t lick my clit 32 flicks per second,” you instinctively ran your hand in his hair, “Just watch me.”

You weren’t supposed to do that maybe, but Hyunjin leaned into your touch while closing his eyes, and it snapped something inside him. Fucking you was already wishful thinking at this point, but nobody told him he wasn’t allowed to touch himself.

He slowly stripped himself for you to enjoy the view and started jerking off to you, fully taking in the sight of you getting pleasured. Every time he felt something surge inside him he stopped himself and let it die down before he started from scratch again. Over and over and over. He was trying to cum with you, but couldn’t. He was dying to at least brush his tip against your soaked pussy and let his precum mix with your juices, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He fucking couldn’t.

He couldn’t stand it anymore and stopped with a frustrated groan.

“Fucking torture. I’m this close to her and I’m not allowed to do anything?”

Felix’s smile turned more sinister watching him lose it, and he finally decided to show some mercy.

“You know what, we’ve never had a guest before. I guess no harm in just one taste, huh?”

Hyunjin didn’t even let him think over his decision and descended between your legs.

“One,” Felix firmly urged again, “Don’t overdo it.”

Hyunjin looked at him with an excessively entertained expression and flattened his tongue against your entrance, dragging the fuck out that stripe until he reached right under your clit.

“Oh my FUCKING—!”

His tongue felt fucking incredible on your folds and you obviously wanted more. So much more. Felix, on the other hand, drilled a hole in Hyunjin’s forehead with his gaze.

“What did I just fucking say? One lick and that’s it.”

“You didn’t specify how long I can take with it though,” Hyunjin shamelessly licked the slick off his lips.

Your arousal reaching a dangerous level, you were seeking as much friction as you could get, so you pushed Felix’s hand down while rolling your hips against the toy.

“That’s it,” he spurred you on, his breathing in your ear, “Grind. Grind against it.”

Your clit was so swollen when he finally stopped. If Hyunjin’s condition was bad before, it got fucking terminal after seeing that.

“Let me eat her pussy. Just for a little while.”

“No.”

“Have you even tasted her? Who would one lick be enough for?!”

“I have, and I agree actually. She tastes a little too good when she wants more,” he put the device back on the nightstand, “Fine, you can eat her pussy, but not by yourself.”

Felix shifted you to lie down on the mattress and wrapped the black ribbon around his fingers..

“You either watch this and don’t get to cum, or you don’t see anything and cum so fucking hard,” he dragged the smooth piece of fabric on your skin, “Your choice.”

If Hyunjin’s condition was terminal, yours was fucking post-mortem since your own frustration was at a very dangerous level at this point.

“I don’t care. Just… ENOUGH with the teasing!”

You let Felix blindfold you, and shortly after you felt your legs being spread wide. A pair of wet muscles were stimulating both your clit and your entrance, loudly slurping on you like there was no tomorrow with quiet moans.

“Admit it,” Hyunjin’s voice tickled your ears, “Doesn’t compare to the real thing, does it?”

Then you feel both of them on your clit, and judging by the way they glided on you with occasional loss of contact, they weren’t just licking your cunt.

They were also licking each other.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt a very unfamiliar tinge of excitement spreading in the pit of your stomach, chucking you six feet under an orgasm purely made of molten lava.

“He keeps talking about you, you know,” Hyunjin spoke in a hushed tone as Felix removed the ribbon from your eyes, “I wanna see what the big deal is for myself.”

The way Hyunjin was approaching you was nothing short of a panther stalking its prey. Patient. Unrushed. You knew it was danger on the horizon, but instead of running away as fast as you could, you were looking forward to being ripped apart under his claws if he had the balls to come for you. You chuckled.

“You don’t want to see what I can do to you.”

“Yeah? What can you do to me?”

You shot a knowing look at Felix to mean, Care to explain?

“Let me put it this way for you, mate,” he laid down right next to you, “Every time she does as I say, she gets fifteen minutes of playtime. She can do whatever she wants to me during that period.”

“Why fifteen?”

“That’s our agreement. Otherwise, I’ll probably pass out from consecutively cumming,” he threw his arm around your shoulder, “She doms a little too good.”

Hyunjin looked at you with slight disbelief in his eyes and pointed two of his fingers at you.

“You’re a dom?”

You shrugged in a way that neither confirmed nor denied the allegation. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was very intrigued by this brand-new piece of information about you.

“I want you to dom me.”

“Trust me, you don’t,” Felix chortled, “You can’t handle it.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck I can or can’t handle,” he snapped and crawled closer to you as if he was about to make an appeal, “I’m not really familiar with the concept of limits. Just name what you want.”

“Dangerous answer,” you started drawing circles on Felix’s thigh with your eyes still fixated on Hyunjin, “I like to watch, too, you know.”

“What is it? You wanna see me beg?”

“No, my guy. For starters, I wanna see a nice and slow boy-on-boy makeout session,” you clasped your hands under your nape while getting in a more comfortable position, “With tongue.”

Hyunjin cocked a brow at what seemed like a pretty tame request.

“That’s it?”

“If you think that’s all I want, maybe he didn’t do a good job telling you about me.”

“Counteroffer,” he leaned on his elbows, “I’ll do it, but you’ll let me eat your pussy by myself.”

You examined his face, then looked at Felix, currently sprawled on the bed with you and lazily smiling.

“Counter-counteroffer,” you extended your hand for a shake, “You can, but you’ll let me play with your pretty ass.”

Hyunjin didn’t even hesitate before grabbing your hand.

“Fine, but then you’ll take us both. Deal?”

You took one look at the amused expression on Felix’s face and sealed the deal.

“Fucking deal.”

He promptly made his way to Felix and grabbed him by his nape. These two ridiculously gorgeous men were making out a little too enthusiastically like they already knew how to kiss each other by heart, and the sight was more than pleasing. As much as Hyunjin was busy teasing Felix with his hands all over him, half of his attention was still on you. By the end of their makeout session, both men look like they were dunked in a neon-colored pool of arousal, hair in disarray, eyes darkened, and slightly panting.

“Very good,” you slowly clapped at their performance, “I deem your offering worthy.”

“You want your gear?”

“Yes, please,” you replied to Felix in a cute singsongy voice and gestured Hyunjin to approach, “Turn around.”

You started kissing his back to relax him, slightly annoyed at his perfectly defined features. Hyunjin’s excitement was already through the roof and the way your nipples were brushing against his skin was certainly of no help to keep it contained. You gently pressed your palms on his shoulder blades to signal him to lie face down.

“On your knees. Arch your ass for me.”

Besides Felix, Hyunjin could be the prettiest man you’d ever had the pleasure of rimming, and the way he was already reacting to you started to make you see red. You could feel your urges rapidly seeping through you, so much so that his moans were practically ringing in your ears. Felix might have been only watching this from the sidelines, but it was quite a new kind of turn on he was experiencing. You had done this to him many times before, but he never got to actually see what you looked like in action.

After prepping Hyunjin sufficiently, you put on the strap and rested your back against the headboard.

“Come sit on my lap,” you slowly pulled him towards you, “No touching yourself. I’ll take care of it.”

You aligned the dildo at a comfortable angle for him to sink on and once adjusted to the feeling, you pressed on his chest to lean into you more.

“Fuck yourself on me, pretty.”

When Hyunjin started moving, you met his movements halfway and started playing with his balls as you fucked into him. He let out a guttural groan when you wrapped one hand around his girth to lazily jerk him off.

“God, I should have asked him to stretch you first,” you whispered into his ear, “You’re a little too tight, aren’t you?”

It started feeling a little too good as you began stroking him with faster pumps. Basking in the intense pleasure provided by you, Hyunjin momentarily halted his movements. You heard the delicious hiss he let out when you pulled on his hair.

“Did I say you could fucking stop?”

You started fucking him at a rapidly quickening pace, syncing your hand movements to your rhythm and grazing your teeth on the sensitive skin on his neck. When you cupped his tightened balls and started caressing them very gently, something in Hyunjin violently snapped and you watched him cum all over himself with breathless throaty moans. His orgasm went to his head so hard that it took a while for him to come back to his senses. You helped him clean up and just as you were about to lay back down to hold up your end of the deal…

He kissed you.

You were so taken aback by it that you couldn’t even reciprocate at first, and of course he noticed the awkwardness of the way you were reacting to him.

“Doesn’t he ever kiss you?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

You shook your head, averting your eyes from him as if this was something to be ashamed of.

“Why not?”

“I told him not to,” you explained, “That’s not in our agreement.”

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Hyunjin’s intense judgment didn’t stem from the fact that you and Felix had never kissed. It was due to how fucking stupid he was being. He had listened to this guy talk about you every chance he got, and from the looks of it, you were a little too into him yourself. If there was one context you two could pretend some facts didn’t exist, it was here, so why the fuck weren’t either of you taking advantage of it?

“Pass me the No.0, will you?” Hyunjin addressed Felix, “Then sit behind her.”

As Felix handed him a small chrome-plated sphere, Hyunjin reclined you against Felix’s chest again.

“I know you have your own demonic shit going on and I don’t judge, but this is how you properly do it,” then he playfully winked at you, “Just so you know my tongue works on praise.”

He started his ministrations with a dragged-out swipe of his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, immediately melting you into Felix. You felt his tongue gliding all over cunt smearing his saliva and your own slick everywhere, not leaving a single spot unteased.

“You know what a clit sucker can’t do?” he emphatically asked his rhetorical question, “It can’t eat your pussy.”

He covered his mouth over your folds and swirled his tongue painfully slowly around your clit just to see how many licks it would take to get to the center of you. You could feel yourself dripping down towards your hips. Hyunjin smoothly placed the plug inside your ass and kept eating you to get you completely drenched.

“It can’t tell you how delicious your cunt is. It can’t get aroused by the sounds you make.”

He teased your entrance for a while, then flattened his tongue and lazily pushed it inside you. You didn’t know it was possible to get tongue-fucked like this.

“Oh, fuck, that’s– You’re fucking amazing.”

“It can’t get this fucking hard when you start cursing like that,” he placed wet kisses on your throbbing folds, “It can’t lick you deeper when you praise like that.”

He started moving the little ball inside you with careful movements to stretch you while sloppily making out with your cunt. You rested your head on Felix’s shoulder and grabbed his nape in a dire need to hold onto something.

“Kiss her,” Hyunjin firmly instructed Felix, “And kiss her deep. She’ll love it, trust me.”

You and Felix briefly looked at each other with hesitation written all over your faces. While your initial justification was different, there was a reason you had avoided it for so long. Things were fine the way they were and this would change things. You were scared to face what those changes would look like.

Right in the middle of your internal monologue, Felix unleashed himself on your lips and you finally satisfied the evergrowing curiosity of what his lips would feel like in yours. He was kissing you as deeply as Hyunjin was licking into you and it was fucking mindblowing. You were breathless by the time you stopped.

“There should be a consequence of getting yourself licked by someone else, don’t you think?” Felix spoke against your lips.

“What did you have in mind?”

He leaned into your ear and whispered breathily in that abyssal voice of his.

“I wanna fuck your ass and make you cum when I’m fucking dismantling you.”

His words hit you so hard that you almost came on the spot and had to stop Hyunjin in a hurry.

“Don’t– don’t finish me. Not yet.”

“But you’re on the brink already.”

“Just… Not yet!”

“See how much better that was?” he wiped his chin with a content smile and cautiously removed the plug, then handed an actual bottle of lube to Felix to prep you and himself.

“Looks so damn perfect. Molded for me,” he aligned his cock with you, “I’ll slide right in,”

You had only taken him halfway, but the tightness already made him want to combust.

“Oh, FUCK, that’s the stuff,” he started carefully working you open with shallow thrusts, “Sit on me.”

Hyunjin watched you until Felix completely disappeared inside you, giving himself a few pumps in the meantime, and nestled between your legs to pave his way in you. He sharply hissed with delight as he was sliding in.

“Too fucking tight,” he groaned, “How the fuck do you even stretch her?”

You and Felix started snickering at each other, and Felix responded.

“I don’t. She likes it this way.”

“Listen to this shit. Fucking incredible,” Hyunjin moved slowly to the obscene squelch sounds coming from your pussy as pushed further, “I wish I could go down on you while fucking you, but since I can’t…”

He grabbed the clit sucker from the nightstand and handed it to Felix. Then both men started moving inside you with a lazy rhythm. With the familiar texture of the silicone pressed against your clit again, you were about to overdose on arousal.

“Admit it, you love this,” Felix kissed your jawline, “Much better with the two of us inside you, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to. You just pulled on his nape as a response and he buried himself into your neck while fondling your breasts.

Filled to the brim on both ends, this was a whole new realm of pleasure you hadn’t experienced before. You were getting fucked and sucked and licked and touched at the same time, and you had never been this close to splitting into your atoms.

“Harder,” you screamed, “Fuck me harder!”

Your words drove both of them to go full berserk, both inside you as well as on your clit, resolute to give you the most violent orgasm of your life.

“I wanna see what you look like cumming all over me,” Hyunjin spoke in between his panting, “I wanna watch the way your cum drips down your thighs. I promise I’ll lick it clean for you.”

All of a sudden, you felt Felix’s loud and breathy whispering in your ear, uttering the words that were going to obliterate you in every possible sense of the word.

“Do it for me, baby.”

It was over for you.

You felt yourself quite literally explode. Convulsing hard with the shocks of your orgasm, you squeezed both men trapped inside you, and they had no way of holding it back anymore. It was the filthiest kind of bliss you had ever experienced, feeling yourself getting filled with warm spurts of cum on both ends, arms and legs tangled with each other to form this bubble of extreme lust. As Hyunjin collapsed on top of you, you let yourself rest against Felix’s chest. Nobody said anything for a while. All you were able to hear was heavy breathing sounds dying down.

“You know,” you turned to Felix and uttered very seriously, “keeping your sex toys clean is very important.”

“Right,” he immediately agreed and pretended to get off the bed, “I’ll go run a bath for Hyunjin.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

I have no idea what I was thinking. This is the first OT8 collection I've been able to finish. Hope you enjoyed One Night at Back Door even though we're way past Valentine's already. I'll see you at my other work!

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

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